Peter Singer has a really interesting piece in “The Stone” on the notion of medically curtailing immoral behavior:
If continuing brain research does in fact show biochemical differences between the brains of those who help others and the brains of those who do not, could this lead to a “morality pill” — a drug that makes us more likely to help? Given the many other studies linking biochemical conditions to mood and behavior, and the proliferation of drugs to modify them that have followed, the idea is not far-fetched. If so, would people choose to take it? Could criminals be given the option, as an alternative to prison, of a drug-releasing implant that would make them less likely to harm others? Might governments begin screening people to discover those most likely to commit crimes? Those who are at much greater risk of committing a crime might be offered the morality pill; if they refused, they might be required to wear a tracking device that would show where they had been at any given time, so that they would know that if they did commit a crime, they would be detected…
But if our brain’s chemistry does affect our moral behavior, the question of whether that balance is set in a natural way or by medical intervention will make no difference in how freely we act. If there are already biochemical differences between us that can be used to predict how ethically we will act, then either such differences are compatible with free will, or they are evidence that at least as far as some of our ethical actions are concerned, none of us have ever had free will anyway. In any case, whether or not we have free will, we may soon face new choices about the ways in which we are willing to influence behavior for the better.
So on one view, all decisions are rooted in biochemical processes, meaning that we don’t really have free will, meaning that a drug to alter our moral behavior wouldn’t undermine free will. On another view, not all decisions are rooted in biochemical processes, meaning that there are naturally occurring differences in the way that different individuals express their free will. On this second view, there is no universal standard of free will, and so to alter someone’s brain chemistry doesn’t cancel out their free will, it just changes it. But in what way?
In order to prescribe any sort of medication, there must be a settled concept of what the desired outcome is. What will the patient look like when he is cured? When you treat a sinus infection, the desired outcome is for the sinuses to clear up. When you treat cancer, it is for the cancer to go away. But when you treat the brain chemistry underlying moral decision making, what does it look like to be cured of immorality? In order to be able to recognize this state, we would need to have a shared concept of what is a proper manner of expressing one’s free will. We would all have to agree, that is, on a universal moral code of conduct.
This is conceivable within the scope of the examples Singer uses; a truck driver who runs over an innocent child is clearly not acting in a moral way. But what about a teenager selling pot? What about a financial trader selling bad assets? What about a vindictive prison guard? What is dangerous — or immoral — enough to warrant behavior-altering treatment, and what is tolerable conscious behavior?
Part of the difficulty in positing a treatment for morality is that you have to first conclusively define immorality as a disease. That is a daunting task. Cancer has been cancer all through the ages, but morality has changed as our cultures and values have evolved. Several hundred years ago, if a woman was raped it was often she who was punished. Several hundred years from now, who rightly knows what society will define as moral or punishable?
Cancer is biological, so it must be treated biologically. Morality is cultural, so the only proper way to treat it is through social mechanisms. It is jaded — and in my view, empirically incorrect — to say that you cannot legislate morality. That is, in any case, where we must start. Better laws, purer lawmaking, and cleaner enforcement tend to steer morality on course. There will always be sociopaths out there, and I don’t suspect there is much that society can do about that. But the more germane question is this: if you live in a country where the government openly encourages infanticide as a means of population control, is it really so outlandish that a truck driver might run over a child?