Personality Differences: The Importance of Chance
In the golden age of Greek philosophy Theophrastus, Aristotle's successor, posed a question for which he is still remembered: "Why has it come about that, albeit the whole of Greece lies in the same clime, and all Greeks have a like upbringing, we have not the same constitution of character [personality]?" The question is especially noteworthy because it bears on our sense of who each of us is, and we now know enough to offer an answer: each personality reflects the activities of brain circuits that gradually develop under the combined direction of the person's unique set of genes and experiences. What makes the implications of this answer so profound is that they lead to the inescapable conclusion that personality differences are greatly influenced by chance events.
Two types of chance events influence the genetic contribution to personality. The first, and most obvious, is the events that brought together the person's mom and dad. Each of them has a particular collection of gene variants—a personal sample of the variants that have accumulated in the collective human genome—and the two parental genetic repertoires set limits on the possible variants that can be transmitted to their offspring. The second chance event is the hit-or-miss union of the particular egg and sperm that make the offspring, each of which contains a random selection of half of the gene variants of each parent. It is the interactions of the resultant unique mixture of maternal and paternal gene variants that plays a major part in the 25-year-long developmental process that builds the person's brain and personality. So two accidents of birth—the parents who conceive us, and the egg–sperm combinations that make us—have decisive influences on the kinds of people we become.
But genes don't act alone. Although there are innate programs of gene expression that continue to unfold through early adulthood to direct the construction of rough drafts of brain circuits, these programs are specifically designed to incorporate information from the person's physical and social world. Some of this adaptation to the person's particular circumstances must come at specific developmental periods, called critical periods. For example, the brain circuits that control the characteristic intonations of a person's native language are only open for environmental input during a limited window of development.
And just as chance influences the particular set of genes we are born with, so does it influence the particular environment we are born into. Just as our genes incline us to be more or less friendly, or confident, or reliable, the worlds we grow up in incline us to adopt particular goals, opportunities and rules of conduct. The most obvious aspects of these worlds are cultural, religious, social, and economic, each transmitted by critical agents: parents, siblings, teachers, and peers. And the specific content of these important influences—the specific era, place, culture etc. we happen to have been born into—is as much a toss of the dice as the specific content of the egg and sperm that formed us.
Of course, chance is not fate. Recognizing that chance events contribute to individual personality differences doesn't mean each life is predetermined or that there is no free will. The personality that arises through biological and socio-cultural accidents of birth can be deliberately modified in many ways, even in maturity. Nevertheless, the chance events that direct brain development in our first few decades leave enduring residues.
When thinking about a particular personality it is, therefore, helpful to be aware of the powerful role that chance played in its construction. Recognizing the importance of chance in our individual differences doesn't just remove some of their mystery. It can also have moral consequences by promoting understanding and compassion for the wide range of people with whom we share our lives.
