Aquila, beta, sigma, gaya, puto, maya

Upsilon, Sigma Rho, Beta Sigma, Aquila Legis, Fraternal Order of Utopia, Alpha Phi Omega, Gaya Gaya Puto Maya. Forgive me if I missed any of the other names of these powerful blackholes of sense and sensibility in Philippine society. I am familiar only with these ones. Besides, after a while, they really all sound the same, giving off the same fraternal mumbo-jumbo. These are the cult names I grew up with, having a fratman as a father, reading the same names in vandalized university bathroom doors, walls and benches, angry over dead young victims of hazing, dunking on the floor when gunshots were heard and a bottle broke the glass panels of our classroom where we were discussing "international peace" during a frat rumble, and even having some of the boys I grew up with in college go to law school and turn into the men they did, sworn and beaten into some kind of conspired secrecy and loyalty to a glorious tradition of idiocy and blind support for their members. I seemed to have waited all my life for this (and yes Dad, I am sure) – for some solid scientific perspective to point out the idiocy of fraternities and this week, I think I finally have it so without further ado, may I now say: Boys, secret’s out.

None of you may have yet heard of the last frat – Gaya Gaya Puto Maya (to non-Filipino speakers, it means "Monkey See, Monkey Do). It is the name of their "umbrella organization" – sort of the "father of all frats" and is at the heart of the secret I am going to share with you.

Neuroscientists have been, for almost two decades, studying how the brain learns, transmits and receives "learning" – any kind of learning. All this learning, sharing and passing on is what makes for culture. They wanted to see how biology and culture talk to (and "make") each other. New York Times reporter Sandra Blakeslee recently led us to veteran scientists like Giacomo Rizzolatti, a neuroscientist at the University of Parma, who found "a hall of mirrors" in human brains. These brain cells, called "mirror neurons," are cells that simulate actions that we see in others. What is crucial is that the cells also assign them the social intentions and meaning we find in the action that we see. For instance, when we see someone hit another and witness the pain, a brain "copy" of the scene and its meaning of "pain" or "violation" is registered. The next time we see someone raise his hand or weapon to another, our mirror neuron will flash a copy of the previous scene so that we know what it means and we know the intention to hurt or kill without having to see the actual moment when the hand or weapon strikes. A copy of this "image" is retained in the brain and this is the same thing that you use to make sense of similar actions that you do. Thus, it is not simply what you do but also the meaning and intention of what you do that becomes a part of who you are, how you live. So the copy of "meanings and intentions" that your experience stamps on your mirror neurons, is the same thing you use to do the same thing all over again. This assures our fratmen that the hazing that their frats do (and their denials of it) and the twisted and perverted sense of "honor and pride" that they assign to the ritual of hematoma and broken bones is the copy they have in their brains – the same copy they will use to participate (or turn a blind eye) to perpetuate this chain of tragic idiocies down the line. That is why, despite the destroyed and wasted lives of those killed in fraternity hazing through generations, it still happens. Your generation may do it differently – you may substitute paddles of "humiliation" to wack their dignities instead of their bodies who did not do anything to you except be coaxed in the same mindless cult. But there is no escape as far as your mirror cells are concerned because "humiliation" registers the same scars in the hall of mirrors in your brain as deeply as a wallop to their butts. I don’t think Mark Twain dipped into neuroscience but he was nonetheless wise when he said, "History does not repeat itself but it rhymes."

So you fratmen may want to rename your fraternities. I suggest tweaking the following phrases for more appropriate, biologically correct names: premotor cortex, the posterior parietal lobe, the superior temporal sulcus and the insula. These are the regions of the human brain that carry the weight of all your mirror neurons that reflect your egoistic intentions, cloaked in the platitudes of brotherhood.

I have another related secret that could explain the dulling mystery of fraternities. I was led to it by Dr. Tania Singer, the lead researcher of the Wellcome Department of Imaging Neuroscience at University College London whose experiment was reported by Elisabeth Rosenthal in the New York Times last Jan. 19. I figured this may also biologically explain why it is frats that are notoriously violent and not sororities. When Dr. Singer hooked the brains of men and women who had to witness the "mild electric shocks" given to those who "cheated" on a game that was set up in the experiment, they found that women, even if they say that the "cheaters" deserved the punishment, had the "empathy" lobes in their brains light up. This means that the women still felt for the "cheaters" (remember they were just made to believe these were "cheaters") even if the cheaters "deserved" them. The real revelation was that in the male brain, their empathy centers had a total blackout while their "pleasure" lobes lit up like Las Vegas. This means that as long as men are made to believe that what they are doing, even if cruel, is "just," they will not only be the ones more likely to mete out the punishment, they will also do it with unabashed glee.

I think the meaning of this finding goes beyond "crime and punishment" because it has to do with the "perception" of what is "just." If senior fratmen were made to believe that the rituals and mantras they are made to do and chant in their hooded cults, which include cruel and deadly hazing, are "just" because the ones they are "beating" really "deserve" them if they are to earn their membership in idiocy that is sanctioned by a Latin seal and logo, these paddlers will not only do it but even smile in the depths of their hearts while doing so. I dare a frat beater’s brain to be hooked up to a brain-scanning image while beating a new "brod." If his "pleasure" lobe does not light up, and he is doing this without any associated meaning – without logic or emotion "lobe" lighting up – he may not have a twisted sense of pleasure but it makes the case for the mindlessness of hazing.

You have to be in a coma not to notice that the emeritus arch-strategists of some powerful fraternities still carry their banner in all the branches of government, held up only by their falling Latin letterings – heavy on terrorizing power, but really short or even empty on intelligence and compassion.

"Who is she!?" "How dare SHE!" are some of the exclamatory objections I can foresee from the die-hard fratmen whom we all still see in the halls of our government doing everything they can to shrink the nation to make it fit into the narrow ends of their respective brotherhood’s interests. Some will call "Let’s hear it from the boys!" Imagine, geeky science raining down on your venerable parades of egos. I can even bet my father will be in those meetings. But I am not sure if they will even bother, considering the cases of botched hazing they have to deal with in their conscience (some of them I think still have them) or in the courts. But even if they arrive in my workspace, I will do what I always do to my Dad after he relates his frat-related stories to me when we break bread together, I put down my fork and calmly but firmly say, with all the love and concern for his future that I can muster: "Dad, grow up."

Some fraternity brods of my Dad ask him why I am the way I am. And he always says this:" She has a mind of her own and I am proud that she does." Way to go Dad, break those damn frat mirror neurons of yours!

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