The Physiology of Faith by N. Fakhr - HTML preview

Discouraging Curiosity

Is curiosity an instinctive and important force in human beings? If so, why are there so many things we have no curiosity about?

I do not know the population of Tirana, the capital of Albania. Even if a magazine lying beside me contained that information, I would probably feel no desire to pick it up and find out. Why are we curious about some things but not others?

Research suggests that curiosity is aroused when our knowledge is incomplete—when we know only part of something, hear only part of a statement, or see an image that is incomplete or unclear. In such situations, the anterior insula (AI) and anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) become active. These regions are also active when we feel distressed, uncomfortable, or restless. In other words, incomplete information can make us uneasy.

On the other hand, when the missing information is supplied—when an unclear or incomplete image becomes clear and complete, or, in other words, when our curiosity is satisfied—the nucleus accumbens, putamen, and left caudate become active. These regions are associated with reward and pleasure. The nucleus accumbens is an important part of the brain’s reward system and is also activated by such experiences as eating pleasurable food, sexual activity, and the use of addictive drugs. Activity in these reward circuits is associated with dopamine signaling.

A third thing happens when we are curious: activity in the hippocampus, an important region involved in memory formation, also increases. Studies have shown that we tend to remember better the things we see and hear while we are curious.

Taken together, these findings suggest that curiosity must have been important to the survival of our species for so many brain mechanisms to be involved in it. Of course, it is unlikely that the mechanisms underlying curiosity evolved in Homo sapiens for the purpose of discovering complex philosophical or abstract truths. More probably, this trait developed because it helped us survive, discover ways of staying alive, and understand our own position and that of others within the groups in which we lived—the sort of interest in other people’s affairs that we might now call nosiness. Yet the same capacity can now drive us to seek answers in entirely different domains, and scientific and philosophical discoveries can themselves give us great pleasure. A progressively clearer and more complete picture of existence can become deeply attractive to us. [1]

The important point, however, is that this desire arises when we already possess some information but that information is incomplete—when the picture or subject is not entirely clear to us. It is this information gap, or perceptual uncertainty, that makes us restless and drives us to fill the gap, perhaps partly in pursuit of the pleasure and reward that come with completing the picture.

Overall, a curious attitude can bring us greater pleasure and better memory, and may even lead us into a kind of pleasure-seeking pursuit of information in different areas—from curiosity about other people’s affairs to the pursuit of science and knowledge—depending on the areas in which our information is incomplete and the areas in which we have learned to derive greater pleasure from satisfying our curiosity.

We tend not to become curious about subjects in which we feel we already possess complete knowledge, nor about subjects of which we know absolutely nothing.

In religious myths, curiosity is sometimes portrayed as undesirable, and the curious may suffer serious consequences.

Zeus created a beautiful and seemingly perfect woman named Pandora, whose one flaw was curiosity. Hermes gave Pandora a golden box and told her never to open it. Unable to restrain her curiosity, she opened the box, releasing the evils of famine, greed, suffering, and sorrow. In this story, curiosity is presented as the source of human misfortune.

Semele asked Zeus to reveal himself to her in his full divine form. Zeus, who had already promised to grant her a wish, was compelled to do so, and the brilliance of his divine presence destroyed her.

Adam and Eve, too, became curious about the consequences of eating the fruit that had been forbidden to them. They were expelled from Paradise, and the suffering of humankind began.

Moses questioned the wisdom behind the actions of Khidr, and Khidr ultimately refused to allow Moses to continue accompanying him.

In addition to encouraging faith, religions may discourage believers from questioning the wisdom behind the actions of their gods. There have, of course, been curious and philosophically minded believers who have examined the doctrines of their faith and the supposed wisdom behind their god’s actions and commandments without ultimately abandoning their religion.

Where the conclusions of their reasoning came into conflict with their religious doctrines, they often sided with those doctrines and remained within the boundaries of their religion. Yet the very fact that inquiry and philosophical reflection have sometimes led believers away from the views of the mainstream clergy—or occasionally caused them to abandon their religion altogether—has led many religious authorities to oppose philosophical and critical inquiry into religious doctrines. They may warn people against such inquiry, regard human reason as inadequate for judging their religion, and place great value on unquestioning acceptance of religious commandments and values.

Curiosity about the wisdom behind divine actions and commandments may therefore be condemned when it reaches the point of weakening a person’s faith. Statements such as “we cannot understand the reasons behind their actions” or “we should not question such matters” can become promoted and admired attitudes within religious traditions. Such attitudes help believers avoid perceiving faults in the actions of their gods and saints, or irrationality and moral problems in the commandments of their religion. Discussion of these matters may itself come to be regarded as improper, so that people who find such questions arising in their minds may even feel ashamed to voice them.

Engaging in behavior regarded by the wider group as a vice or a violation of accepted values can lead to social exclusion. Fear of exclusion is one of the powerful forces shaping human behavior. We Homo sapiens do not always decide whether our actions, thoughts, or beliefs are right or wrong through careful analysis. Often, we infer that we are right or wrong from whether we are accepted or rejected by others. Social rejection can disturb the brain’s limbic system, while acceptance by the group can help restore a sense of security. Being accepted within a religious group or community may therefore reassure us that everything is as it should be and that there is no need to reconsider our thoughts or actions. This can continue for as long as the group does not reject us. Even a single group may provide enough reassurance and security that we no longer feel any need to be accepted by other groups. We can spend our entire lives in such an isolated world, feeling little pressure to expend the mental effort required to question our beliefs—and potentially becoming vulnerable to manipulation by the leaders of the groups to which we belong.

Curiosity about the philosophy of religion and the wisdom behind religious commandments must therefore be discouraged—unless it remains within the framework of the religious texts themselves. In such a framework, we seek the answer to every question in the sacred texts: if an answer is found, we accept it; if none is found, we accept the matter without further questioning rather than testing the doctrines, the wisdom of the commandments, or the morality of religious teachings through our own independent reasoning. Intellectual discussions conducted within the framework of religious texts are generally called theology. Theological inquiry is not necessarily condemned within religions and is widespread among religious scholars.

The assumption of an afterlife can also help limit further questioning. If all the promised consequences of divine commandments, methods, and decisions—and all the forms of happiness or salvation promised by religions—were supposed to become visible during earthly life but repeatedly failed to appear, skeptical questions could continue to arise. The assumption of an afterlife, however, allows the ultimate wisdom and consequences of such commandments and divine decisions to be located in another life.