The Science of Kindness

Why do people help each other? Is kindness something we learn, something taught by parents, teachers, and religious traditions? Or is it something deeper, something hardwired into our very biology? For centuries, morality has been treated as a matter of personal choice and cultural influence. Observant Jews, for instance, argue that studying the Torah from childhood encourages good deeds. Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, and many other traditions emphasize selflessness as a moral duty, reinforcing the idea that kindness is something instilled over time. But new research suggests something even more fundamental: the impulse to help may not just be about upbringing. Scientists have identified a specific region of the brain that plays a crucial role in determining whether we feel motivated to help others. That discovery could fundamentally reshape how we think about morality.

A study published in Nature Human Behavior by researchers at the Universities of Birmingham and Oxford examined a part of the brain called the ventromedial prefrontal cortex (vmPFC). This region, located at the very front of the brain, plays a role in complex decision-making—especially when it comes to balancing effort and reward. The researchers discovered that this same brain region is also critical for prosocial motivation, which is the willingness to put in effort to help others. To test this, they studied patients who had suffered brain damage, some with injuries specifically affecting the vmPFC. What they found was striking: patients with damage to this region were much less likely to make the effort to help someone else, even when it required very little exertion. Even when they chose to help, they put in far less effort compared to those whose brains were intact.

This finding is significant because it suggests that kindness is not simply a learned behavior or a moral philosophy—it is rooted in brain function. Some people may struggle with empathy or generosity not because they lack moral training, but because their brains process effort and reward differently. This raises profound ethical questions. If our willingness to help is tied to how the brain works, does that mean morality is not entirely a choice? If damage to the vmPFC reduces someone's ability to be kind, should we judge them in the same way as someone who simply refuses to help out of selfishness? And if this region of the brain can be influenced, could it be possible to enhance it, making people more naturally compassionate?

Neuroscientists have long studied the brain’s role in moral decision-making. Using MRI scans, they have linked the vmPFC to choices that weigh personal benefit against the needs of others. However, past studies could only show correlations—they could not prove that this region was essential for prosocial behavior. That’s why this new study is groundbreaking. By comparing patients with vmPFC damage to those with damage elsewhere in the brain, as well as to healthy individuals, the researchers were able to isolate the role of this region. Their conclusion was clear: without a properly functioning vmPFC, prosocial behavior declines.

This discovery ties into broader questions about how morality develops over a lifetime. The vmPFC is one of the last parts of the brain to fully mature, often not completing its development until the mid-to-late twenties. This may explain why adolescents often struggle with impulse control and long-term decision-making. It also suggests that moral reasoning and prosocial motivation continue evolving well into adulthood. If the vmPFC is still developing in young adults, could moral education actually shape its function? In other words, could teachings about generosity and responsibility be doing more than influencing beliefs—could they be physically rewiring the brain?

From an evolutionary standpoint, prosocial behavior has always been key to survival. Early human societies relied on cooperation to hunt, gather food, and protect each other. Helping others, even when there is no immediate personal benefit, strengthens group bonds and increases the chances of long-term survival. This could explain why the brain has a built-in mechanism to encourage prosocial behavior. Over time, cultures and religions reinforced these natural tendencies with moral teachings. But the foundation—our biological ability to care and act on that care—was already there.

The implications of this research extend beyond everyday acts of kindness. Disorders like psychopathy, schizophrenia, and depression have all been linked to dysfunction in the vmPFC. In psychopathy, which is characterized by a lack of empathy and remorse, studies have shown reduced activity in this brain region. Similarly, individuals with depression often experience apathy and social withdrawal, struggling to find the motivation to engage with others. If the vmPFC is responsible for calculating whether an effort is "worth it," then a malfunctioning vmPFC could make it harder for someone with depression to see the value in social interactions or helping others—even if they want to.

This leads to an exciting possibility: could treatments aimed at stimulating the vmPFC increase prosocial behavior? Some studies using transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS)—a technique that uses electromagnetic fields to influence brain activity—suggest that stimulating this region can increase generosity and the willingness to help others. While this research is still in its early stages, it suggests that moral behavior may not be as fixed as we once thought. If brain function can be enhanced, then perhaps people can be taught to be more compassionate—on a neurological level.

The study’s findings also connect to major global issues. Many of today’s biggest challenges—climate change, poverty, conflict—require people to make personal sacrifices for the collective good. Yet research has consistently shown that humans struggle to prioritize long-term benefits over short-term convenience, especially when effort is involved. Understanding the neural basis of prosocial motivation could help policymakers and scientists develop strategies to encourage collective action. If people are naturally less inclined to exert effort for others, how can we create environments where prosocial behavior is more rewarding and accessible?

This research also raises deeper philosophical questions. If a damaged vmPFC reduces motivation to help, does this mean that morality is partly determined by biology rather than free will? If so, where does personal responsibility begin and end? This has profound implications, especially in criminal justice. If someone commits a crime because of brain damage affecting their ability to make moral decisions, how should they be judged? Should legal systems take neurological factors into account when determining punishment? These are difficult questions, but they highlight how neuroscience is challenging traditional ideas of ethics, law, and justice.

It’s also worth considering how education and moral teachings interact with brain development. While the vmPFC is crucial for motivation, it doesn’t work alone. Upbringing, culture, and personal experiences all shape how people interpret moral choices. Religious teachings, for instance, may provide frameworks that reinforce prosocial behavior, strengthening neural pathways that encourage kindness. This suggests that while biology sets the foundation, education and experience shape the outcome. Can structured moral education actually alter brain function in a way that makes people more compassionate? If so, should schools integrate neuroscience-based methods into moral education?

Ultimately, this study challenges the assumption that kindness is purely a choice. It suggests that our ability to help others depends on both learned values and brain function. While religious teachings and cultural upbringing can encourage selflessness, they do not operate in isolation. The brain itself must be capable and willing to translate those teachings into action. For those with a fully functioning vmPFC, making the effort to help may come naturally. But for those with damage or dysfunction in this region, kindness may require conscious effort.

This research doesn’t diminish the importance of moral teachings or cultural values, but it adds a new dimension to our understanding of human nature. It suggests that the capacity for kindness is not just a social construct—it is wired into the brain itself. And if that’s the case, the next big question is whether we can learn—not just in theory, but biologically—to be better at helping others. If morality has a neurological basis, then perhaps it is something we can train, strengthen, and refine—just like any other part of the mind.