On the Morality of Nirvana in Fire

The morality of Nirvana in Fire (琅琊榜) is not ambiguous. There are clear heroes and villains, and neither vacillate in their moral choices: for all that Prince Jing suspects Mei Changsu of wrongdoing, he never once acts out of self-interest or against the common good, and is unwavering in his convictions. Xie Yu, Xia Jiang, Prince Yu, and the Emperor of Liang are similarly unrepentant: though they each fall to ruin, they never regret that they chose expediency over righteousness, nor do they consider the suffering which their actions inflict upon the people, lamenting only that their schemes were foiled. Thus, in essence, Nirvana in Fire is an endorsement of the heroes' values and an indictment of the villains'. Precisely because its morality is unambiguous, it is possible to interrogate the heroic ideals which it espouses, and in doing so, comprehend one aspect of Chinese ideology and values. Though Nirvana in Fire is set in a fictionalized ancient China (with accompanying supernatural martial arts), and ostensibly portrays an ancient culture, it is a modern work of fiction written for a modern audience, and reflects their modern values more closely than one might suppose. These values are not those of modern western culture, and are premised upon different axioms than those of western Liberalism (in the classical sense), but remain largely intuitive to the western viewer.

Yet there remain points of ideological contention stemming from differences in the moral frameworks of east and west; in the present day, Chinese thinking remains a source of confusion and confoundment in the United States. Despite the increasing importance of these contentions, as geopolitical tensions escalate and ideological challenges to the future of democracy and Liberalism emerge, the United States and the west in general are ill-positioned to resolve their confusion. The language barrier is steep, but also one-sided: Chinese is one of the most difficult languages for English speakers to learn, but while few Americans study Chinese, the majority of Chinese students study English as a second language. Interest in learning Chinese has actually declined in recent years; yet many classical texts from the Chinese literary canon lack English translations, and their native versions require a high degree of literary proficiency that is unattainable for the casual student. American education is largely Eurocentric, and 20th century history and philosophy in the west is dominated by the rise of fascism and communism, two collectivist ideologies that posed existential threats to the Liberal democratic world order. American politics in recent years has become increasingly polarized between left and right, increasing the tendency towards linear thinking along the axis of polarization. Yet the western political spectrum of the past century encompasses only a narrow subset of ideologies, and the dichotomous framework which has emerged is in many ways inadequate when evaluating ideas and values extrinsic to its mainstream.

It is difficult to define morality in a way that is both precise and universal; philosophers have attempted to do so for millennia, yet no theory can elucidate every question. Modern science, however, provides insights not available to past philosophers, and at present, the natural sciences are able to interrogate (albeit imperfectly) many questions which were once the exclusive domain of philosophy. Though our present understanding of the human brain is far from complete, we know that the sense of right and wrong, and moral emotions in general, arise from the function of certain brain structures (Moll et al., 2002). These structures have likely evolved in humans because of the role of moral emotions in facilitating cooperation, as the ability for groups of humans to cooperate can be advantageous for evolutionary fitness (De Waal, Macedo, & Ober, 2006).

Variation in brain structure between human beings means that each person possesses different moral intuitions, placing greater or lesser importance upon different factors when passing judgment, yet there remains sufficient similarity for most people to share many of the same values (Brown, 2004; Moll et al., 2005). These moral intuitions are partly determined by genetics, but their development is influenced by environmental factors such as upbringing and cultural values, and tend to shift as people age (Israel, Hasenfratz, & Knafo-Noam, 2015). Some people are compelled more strongly by moral emotions, whereas others are weakly or not at all affected (Fumagalli & Priori, 2012; Gregory et al., 2012). The concept of evil arises due to the propensity of some toward actions detrimental to the common good (Itzkowitz, 2018). Yet even well-functioning moral intuitions are imperfect at best, providing only a fast approximate evaluation. Beyond moral intuition, human beings also possess the capacity for moral reasoning, which can sometimes yield slower, but more accurate conclusions (Paxton & Greene, 2010). The nature of moral reasoning in humans is complicated by the fact that the articulation of moral values and justification for actions is also instrumental in identifying others with common cause, and persuading others to cooperate. Moral reasoning and reflective thinking may produce post-hoc rationalizations to defend one’s interests, often obstructing one’s ability to arrive at the objective truth when self-interest is at stake (Haidt, 2001). Humans are not only biased towards their intuitive beliefs, but also towards a belief in their own righteousness, and that of their tribe. Human cognitive ability is limited also, and thus there is also the tendency towards simplicity rather than nuance, towards dogmatism rather than flexibility. The optimal course of action changes with the circumstances, and is beyond the scope of calculation. Nonetheless, some approximations are better than others, and some are more capable in their calculations; in Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三国演义) (Luo, 2004), the sufficiently wise are able to perceive the will of Heaven.

The western Han historian Sima Qian, in Records of the Grand Historian (史记), writes that the rise and fall of a dynasty is fundamentally a matter of morality. These sentiments are echoed in Nirvana in Fire when Xiao Jingrui remarks to Yan Yujin (in Episode 14) that scheming is now seen as the new norm at court: those who do not take part in palace intrigues are seen as naïve. Because the Emperor is suspicious in nature, distrustful of those who serve him regardless of their loyalty and sincerity, those beneath him are preoccupied with guessing at his intentions and scheming for power, rather than serving the state to the best of their abilities. Thus, the state is in decline: the administration is inefficient, the common people suffer as a result of misrule, and the very borders of the nation are threatened by external threats. This discourse is essentially the viewpoint of Confucian philosophy on governance: in its model, the nation is an extension of the family, and the Emperor, as father to the nation, is responsible as a moral example to the people; superiors in general are thus responsible to their subordinates, and the ideal monarch is both benevolent and humane. To bestow rewards and mete out punishment are also the responsibilities of the sovereign, as these are the methods by which he is to act as a moral guide to his subjects. In modern parlance, misaligned incentives imposed from the top down are what plague the government of Liang; a harmonious state can be achieved when moral actions are incentivized, and immoral actions are disincentivized.

The finer points of Confucianism have been debated by scholars since its inception in the Spring and Autumn Period, and its Four Books and Five Classics (四书五经) have served as educational canon for over two and a half millennia: learned characters in Nirvana in Fire often quote these works directly, and educated modern viewers would recognize these allusions. For example, Mei Changsu paraphrases the Zuozhuan (左傳) (Durrant, Li, & Schaberg, 2016) when he says to Mu Nihuang (in Episode 2) that the reason why he has come to the capital is that, “as birds choose trees to nest in, men of talent choose worthy lords to serve” (良禽择木而栖，良臣择主而事). Enlightenment philosophers, whose works underpin or at least influence most mainstream ideology in the United States, clearly arrive at different views on human beings, society, and government. Yet there is at least one similarity: Rousseau would agree that the role of the sovereign is to uphold the common good, but posited in The Social Contract that sovereignty resided in the will of the people, separate from government; monarchy, placing responsibility upon one man, is often likely to fail to live up its purpose, resulting in tyranny.

But Rousseau’s assertions that human beings in the state of nature are born solitary, and choose to enter into the social contract, are not factually tenable. A Confucian could rebut with the observation that all human beings have a mother and father, and therefore do not exist as atomized individuals; the proper relationship between child and parents is of filial piety, but Confucian morality is premised upon propriety in all relationships. This viewpoint perhaps places a needed emphasis upon the social, rather than solitary nature of humans, and understands that the purpose of the moral emotions is to facilitate interaction between human beings. Yet a major flaw of Confucian morality is that the rites it prescribes are often too rigid. Though Confucius himself writes that the form of the rites can be altered as the situation dictates, so long as the underlying substance which motivates them remains, in practice, human thinking is biased towards dogmatism and rigidity. An overemphasis on the rituals often leads to hypocrisy, and the subsequent undermining of the morality which it is meant to sustain. Nor is there any clear prescription for when people fail to uphold their proper roles in society, particularly those in the highest positions of authority; rebellion and ensuing periods of civil war have throughout Chinese history claimed hundreds of millions of lives. Nor is it really clear that people have free choice in their participation in the social contract: not only because we are biased towards favoring the values of the societies in which we are born, nor because those societies actively promote our assimilation, but because there are in practice few, if any, viable alternatives to participation in society. Confucian government draws its legitimacy chiefly from meritocracy, from its ability and competence in promoting the public good, rather than the consent of the governed.

Similarly, Kant believed that free will was essential for the existence of morality, as morality in his view required free choice between right and wrong. This view of an axiomatic morality existing as an objective concept independent of human cognition is potentially suspect, especially in light of recent developments in the understanding of the role of neurology in morality, yet is a recurring trend within Enlightenment thought and its derivatives. Like Rousseau, Locke in his Two Treatises of Government puts forth as axioms that in the state of nature, men are born free and equal. Jefferson in the Declaration of Independence writes the iconic words, “We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” These theories are all reliant upon the truth of certain metaphysical conceptions of the world and human nature; yet Confucian ethics and morality are at least to a greater degree independent of metaphysics: societal harmony and propriety can exist with or without free will, in a deterministic material universe, or in one with strong mind-body dualism.

Some of these differences in outlook are apparent when Prince Jing learns that Mei Changsu was his childhood friend, Lin Shu, all along. His reaction is one of self-disappointment, that he failed to recognize his best friend and was unable to see through the deception. Mu Nihuang, Meng Zhi, and his mother (Consort Jing) all knew the truth before he did, yet none believed strongly on moral grounds that Prince Jing should be told. Prince Jing’s ignorance of Mei Changsu’s identity becomes critical to their success when Xia Jiang presents his statement to the Emperor: his genuine surprise and lack of foreknowledge is in part what convinces the Emperor. Kant, from his axiomatic formulation of morality, would conclude that there is a categorical imperative to tell the truth, and that not doing so is not only immoral, but compromises Prince Jing’s agency. Yet the reason why Mei Changsu hides his identity from Prince Jing is because he knows that, for practical purposes, Prince Jing would be constrained by their ties of friendship, and would be unwilling to allow his friend to risk his life, even when necessary for their success.

Mei Changsu frequently states that hard decisions must be made in order to prevail in the struggle for succession, though Nirvana in Fire does not take this statement as seriously as it perhaps should. When Wei Zheng is captured by Xia Jiang’s Xuanjing Bureau, Prince Jing is unwilling to allow him to be executed, and insists on rescuing Wei Zheng, even if it incurs the wrath of the Emperor. Mei Changsu vehemently opposes this decision: it is unwise to risk their endeavor for the life of one man, and as his former subordinate in the Chiyan Army, Wei Zheng himself would willingly go to his death. Yet in the end, he can only advise Prince Jing against his chosen course of action, and can only do his best to save Wei Zheng when Prince Jing will not reconsider. He and Prince Jing are the Confucian ideals of subject and lord: Prince Jing is righteous (义) and humane (仁), whereas Mei Changsu is talented (才) and loyal (忠), among their other virtues. The Analects (论语) state, “the gentleman understands what is moral, the petty man what is profitable” (君子喻于义, 小人喻于利). Their relationship parallels that between Zhuge Liang, styled Kongming, and Liu Bei in Romance of the Three Kingdoms, though whereas Liu Bei must pay three visits to Zhuge Liang’s thatched cottage to recruit him to his cause, Prince Yu and the Crown Prince are unable to recruit Mei Changsu, no matter how they try; Mei Changsu chooses to serve Prince Jing of his own accord. Their dilemma mirrors Liu Bei’s decision during the (fictionalized) retreat from Fancheng to Xiakou: the citizens wish to accompany Liu Bei, yet the presence of hundreds of thousands of civilians would slow the army, making it impossible to escape ahead of Cao Cao’s advance. Kongming advises that it would be best to leave the people behind, yet Liu Bei refuses, saying that he could accept it if the people wished to abandon him, but that he would not willingly abandon the people. Whereas Mei Changsu is able to save Wei Zheng, and even turn Xia Jiang’s accusations of Prince Jing to their advantage against Xia Jiang and Prince Yu, Liu Bei repeatedly suffers as a result of his adherence to righteousness: he is unwilling to accept Xuzhou from Tao Qian, and thus the province falls to Cao Cao; he is unwilling to invade Shu, and thus loses Pang Tong when Liu Zhang’s forces ambush him. Ultimately, his decision to allow the civilians to follow him is misguided as well, as Cao Cao’s forces overtake him at Changban, and Liu Bei is ultimately forced to flee; the civilians for the most part are captured, and one of Liu Bei’s wives (Lady Mi) dies in the process.

It is an enduring dilemma that morality is often an impediment to the attainment of power, and thus, all positions of power and authority tend towards corruption. F.A. Hayek in The Road to Serfdom remarks that centralization of authority tends to lead to tyranny because it selects for those who are willing to impose their designs on others. But perhaps this statement only holds true for societies with Liberal norms of freedom and autonomy. When Prince Jing comes to set limits for what strategies he will allow Mei Changsu to employ, Mei Changsu states that while he will do his best to avoid harming the innocent, those who must be used will still be used in his plans; Prince Jing does not object to this. Neither of our heroes object to attaining and wielding authority; indeed, it is explicitly part of the Confucian ideal of the gentleman (君子) to aspire to serve in public office in order to wield state power for the material and moral betterment of the common people. Yet even if their lords should choose poorly, neither strategist can help but obey. There are situations in which countermanding the ruler is acceptable, such as imminent military emergency; Sun Tzu writes in the Art of War (孫子兵法) that under certain circumstances, a commander in the field need not heed the sovereign, but in general, the rigidity of the Confucian hierarchy leaves little recourse for when tyrants assume the throne.

But this does not mean that all societies are doomed to oppression, even if the expediency of their tactics give villains an advantage in the short-term attainment of power. Xie Yu, Xia Jiang, and the Emperor of Liang justify their actions as necessary for the preservation of imperial authority. But their argument for attainment and preservation of power as an end to itself is not entirely convincing. Marquis Yan even attempts to assassinate the Emperor of Liang before Mei Changsu convinces him that this course of action would not be beneficial to the common people, who would be swept up in the ensuing power struggle. In the western consciousness, there is a dichotomy between rationality and emotionality; utilitarianism, Machiavellianism, and realpolitik are viewed as realist, logical, and pragmatic ideologies. Legalism, which asserts that one of the goals of the state should be its own preservation, as the consolidation of power is necessary for the maintenance of stability and order, has also heavily influenced Chinese state policy over the past millennia. Qin Shi Huang established the first unified dynasty under this guiding ideology, but though his state was efficient and prevailed against its rivals in the Warring States Period to achieve sole hegemony, the rule of the Qin was regarded as tyrannical, and Qin laws were seen as draconian. Jing Ke, who attempted to assassinate the King of Qin (who would later become Qin Shi Huang), would be revered as a hero. Because its governance inspired sentiments of moral outrage and rebellion, 15 years after its inception, the Qin would give way to the Chu-Han contention, and from that conflict, the Han dynasty would emerge as successor to its imperium. The Han dynasty would largely adopt the instruments of Qin government (albeit with much softer laws), yet would espouse Confucianism as its state ideology; some aspects of Legalist philosophy would be assimilated into Confucian thought: Reward and punishment, as the state tools of moral guidance, should be applied consistently and impartially. Laws and the delineation of state responsibility should be clear and unambiguous; ties of personal friendship and familial relationships should not interfere in the exercise of official duties. Zhuge Liang, who in Romance of the Three Kingdoms is portrayed as a paragon of Confucian values, executes Ma Su, his close friend, in accordance with military law when he makes a tactical blunder and fails to defend Jieting. But while clear organization of government, efficiency in administration, and the impartial rule of law are desirable qualities in a state, political expediency, while useful for the short-term gain of political power, is inimical to its long-term stability.

Cao Cao is also another notable proponent of legalism; coincidentally, he also rose to prominence through his assassination attempt on Dong Zhuo. In Romance of the Three Kingdoms, he states that when selecting subordinates, he is primarily concerned with their talents, rather than their morals. Cao Wei is also an efficient state, and becomes the most powerful of the Three Kingdoms. Yet the irony is that Sima Yi, whom Cao Cao selected on the basis of talent, would not serve Wei whole-heartedly, and would ultimately overthrow the Cao clan; his descendants would establish the Jin dynasty, reunifying the Three Kingdoms, though it too would be fraught with internal strife. Romance of the Three Kingdoms in general contains a more nuanced treatment of many of the same moral issues as Nirvana in Fire, and can be examined as a Hegelian tragedy on several levels; though it, too, has clear heroes and villains, the driving conflicts which decide the course of the narrative are the heroes’ internal struggles, as they must choose between opposing systems of virtue. Xu Shu, when his mother is taken hostage by Cao Cao, must choose between duty and filial piety. Guan Yu, when he encounters Cao Cao at Huarongdao after the battle of Red Cliffs, chooses personal honor over duty, and allows him to escape in the name of discharging his personal debts. Liu Bei himself ultimately chooses brotherhood over the Empire; after the deaths of his sworn brothers, he embarks on an ill-fated expedition of personal vengeance against Wu. The only hero who remains truly dedicated to his duty is Kongming; he is the wisest among the scholars at Longzhong, and while the others acknowledge Liu Bei as a righteous lord, they are unwilling to serve him. In the novel, this is because, as they are among the sufficiently wise, they are able to perceive that cosmic foreordination has doomed the Han. Shuijing remarks that, “although Kongming has found his lord, it is a pity that it is not his time.” Kongming is also torn between his Daoist acceptance of fate and his Confucian sense of duty to the realm; he embarks on a long journey, and is purposefully absent the first two times that Liu Bei comes to recruit him. Yet once he has made his decision, he is unwavering in his commitment to restore the Han.

There is a dichotomy between collectivism and individualism in the western consciousness. This divide is exacerbated by the rise of fascism and communism in the 20th century as ideologies competing with Liberal democracy for global hegemony; as a consequence, some regard all collectivist ideology as inherently predisposed towards tyranny and coercion. Moreover, polarization in US politics is at its most severe since the American Civil War, increasing the tendency for all political thought to be linearly framed along the left-right axis. In a nuanced examination, though, the dichotomy between collectivism and individualism breaks down, or is paradoxical in nature, when comparing classical Liberalism and Confucianism. For all its emphasis on the individual, Liberalism in practice places a great emphasis on the value of institutions which it views as unnatural, and in essence subsumes the individual will to the collective. Rousseau in particular viewed social institutions as fundamentally denaturing, and regarded society as the source of corruption in humans. On the other hand, while Prince Jing’s ascension as heir apparent represents a great shift in the government of Liang, its institutions are largely unchanged; only the individuals who comprise the government have changed. In principle, Confucianism promotes a kind of perfectionistic meritocratic elitism, with social hierarchy explicitly coded into its rites. Yet partly as a consequence of its historical inheritance of Legalist state apparatus, Confucian government in practice can support the objective of a fair and impartial rule of law as efficient and effective. Neither can answer the problem of how best to promote rule by the noble and wise; for both, this is something which can only happen seemingly against the odds.

Since its economic reforms during the leadership of Deng Xiaoping, the People’s Republic of China has lifted over 600 million people out of poverty. Its per-capita GDP has risen over 50-fold in the past 40 years, and its present global economic importance in some respects exceeds that of the United States. The true capability of the Chinese state, its future trajectory, and its geopolitical designs are contentiously debated. Presently, its political position is somewhat precarious: the majority of world powers are US-aligned, its population is poised to start shrinking and aging over the next decades, and the west remains relatively competitive from a technological innovation standpoint: American universities still produce the best research (though an increasing proportion of graduates return to their home countries), and the United States in general is still attractive as a place to live and work for global talent. It is not yet decided in whose favor the balance of power will shift over the coming years. The relationship between the two countries has grown increasingly adversarial in recent years; rather than seeking to efface the influence of Chinese cultural history, the PRC has largely reversed course, and now looks towards its Confucian past as a source of ideological counterpoint to western influence. At times, state actors in both mainland China and the United States actively push the narrative that democracy is incompatible with Chinese values. The language barrier, in conjunction with the dissemination of politically motivated official narratives, serves as the greatest obstacle to the amelioration of western confoundment, limiting the bandwidth of any exchange or discourse.

However, contrary to the popularized dichotomous view of collectivism and individualism, Confucian values are demonstrably not irreconcilable with representative government, individual rights, or personal liberties, though some adaptations are required. South Korea and Taiwan are both culturally influenced by Confucian thought, and though both experienced several decades of military rule, eventually instituted democratic reforms of their own accord by the late 80s. Optimists like Francis Fukuyama and Stephen Pinker are correct in pointing out that the ascendancy of Liberal democracy has led to unprecedented prosperity, peace, and health on a global scale. Strong democratic norms and institutions limiting and separating the powers of the state, ensuring due process and the rule of law, have proven both robust and effective in the United States over the past centuries. Yet where Fukuyama is famously wrong is in his 1992 declaration of the “End of History.” After the fall of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of the Soviet Union, he proclaimed that there would be no further evolution of government and ideology, and that the resulting world order was essentially a stable equilibrium. Both the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany had emerged out of previously democratic nations, demonstrating that representative government in the 20th century could degenerate into authoritarianism; but even once these challenges had been overcome, it was mistaken to view Liberal democracy as the inevitable conclusion of all sociopolitical evolution; as the opening lines of Romance of the Three Kingdoms state, “Thus is the great trend: the Empire, long divided, must unite, and long united, must divide.” (话说天下大势，分久必合，合久必分).

Perhaps this belief in a kind of manifest destiny is an extension of tendencies in western thinking, prevalent since the Enlightenment, towards holding certain values and propositions as axiomatic, objective, and universal. But this line of thought, while influential even in the present day, is ultimately incoherent; these ideological shortcomings are cracks in the foundation of Liberalism in the United States, and in recent years have begun to manifest. This ideological assumption of the universality of its values is in part what led the United States to spend twenty years and trillions of dollars in the middle east for little gain, while simultaneously turning a blind eye to authoritarian regimes within its orbit. In an age of declining religion, it becomes unclear from whence now the rights to Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness derive, as they are not necessarily self-evident to those who do not share its religious sentiment. The current postmodern ideological vogue asserts that all structures inadequate to capture reality, and thus all conceptions of objective truth are invalid. This is true, as all models are approximations, but neglects the fact that some models are useful, and that some approximations are more accurate than others. Ibn Khaldun in the Muqadimmah writes on the role of Asabiyyah, or social cohesion, in the historical cycle: that when a society has lost its cohesion, it begins its decline, until it is displaced by another, more cohesive, and more vigorous group. This portends poorly for the future of Liberalism in the United States, as its internal politics become increasingly polarized and divided; the global outlook is similarly dismal, as the trend of world governments in recent years has reversed towards authoritarianism.

Yet it does not seem clear that these claims of universality and objectivity are necessary for a well-functioning democratic society in the first place. Certainly, they can prove problematic when they form the basis of all ideology, as they have in the United States, but an inspection of societies that have successfully integrated Confucian values, which are a coherent basis for secular thought, and representative government seems to indicate that this need not be the case. Japan is a third example of a democratic society influenced by Confucian thought, yet its democracy was imposed upon it at the end of the Second World War, and its constitution largely written by American scholars. A comparison of the constitutions of the Republic of Korea, the Republic of China, and Japan reveals a somewhat subtle difference in worldview between the former two and the latter. All three first declare the principle of popular sovereignty, that the legitimacy of the government derives from the will of the people, then go on to specify the organization and responsibilities of government. Yet only the Japanese constitution, compelled by American ideology, declares that there are “universal principles of mankind” which motivate the formation of representative government. In truth, however, Liberal democracy is neither impossible nor inevitable, but the product of human action, requiring both opportunity and effective execution to succeed.

Nirvana in Fire is premised largely on Confucian aesthetic values, and its underlying moral philosophy begins on a different, yet valid, set of observations of human nature than western classical Liberalism. Though it ultimately draws different conclusions on humans, society, and government, these ideological differences are not fundamentally irreconcilable, and its moral reasoning is largely legible and intuitive to the western viewer, providing insight into Chinese thought. Though there is no direct solution to the societal concerns of the west, in an era of deepening social atomization and polarization, its premise underscores the need for societal cohesion, and provides a glimpse as to how a coherent secular ideology can provide a stable societal framework.

References and Further Reading

Nirvana in Fire (琅琊榜) on Viki, a streaming service.
De Waal, F., Macedo, S. E., & Ober, J. E. (2006). Primates and philosophers: How morality evolved: Princeton University Press.
Brown, D. E. (2004). Human universals, human nature & human culture. Daedalus, 133(4), 47-54.
Durrant, S. W., Li, W.-y., & Schaberg, D. (2016). Zuo Traditions: University of Washington Press.
Fumagalli, M., & Priori, A. (2012). Functional and clinical neuroanatomy of morality. Brain, 135(7), 2006-2021. doi:10.1093/brain/awr334
Gregory, S., Simmons, A., Kumari, V., Howard, M., Hodgins, S., & Blackwood, N. (2012). The antisocial brain: psychopathy matters: a structural MRI investigation of antisocial male violent offenders. Archives of general psychiatry, 69(9), 962-972.
Haidt, J. (2001). The emotional dog and its rational tail: a social intuitionist approach to moral judgment. Psychological review, 108(4), 814.
Israel, S., Hasenfratz, L., & Knafo-Noam, A. (2015). The genetics of morality and prosociality. Current Opinion in Psychology, 6, 55-59.
Itzkowitz, S. (2018). Psychopathy and human evil: An overview. Contemporary Psychoanalysis, 54(1), 40-63.
Luo, G. (2004). Three Kingdoms, A Historical Novel: Complete and Unabridged: Univ of California Press.
Moll, J., de Oliveira-Souza, R., Eslinger, P. J., Bramati, I. E., Mourão-Miranda, J. n., Andreiuolo, P. A., & Pessoa, L. (2002). The Neural Correlates of Moral Sensitivity: A Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging Investigation of Basic and Moral Emotions. The Journal of Neuroscience, 22(7), 2730-2736. doi:10.1523/jneurosci.22-07-02730.2002
Moll, J., de Oliveira-Souza, R., Moll, F. T., Ignácio, F. A., Bramati, I. E., Caparelli-Dáquer, E. M., & Eslinger, P. J. (2005). The moral affiliations of disgust: A functional MRI study. Cognitive and behavioral neurology, 18(1), 68-78.
Paxton, J. M., & Greene, J. D. (2010). Moral reasoning: Hints and allegations. Topics in cognitive science, 2(3), 511-527.