We inherit mechanisms for survival from our primeval past; none so obviously as those involved in reproduction. The hormone testosterone underlies the organization of activation of it changes the body and brain to make a male. It is involved not only in sexuality but in driving aggression, competitiveness, risk-taking - all elements that were needed for successful survival and reproduction in the past. But these ancient systems are carried forward into a modern world. The ancient world shaped the human brain, but the modern world is shaped by that brain. How does this world, with all its cultural, political, and social variations, deal with and control the primeval role of testosterone, which continues to be essential for the survival of the species? Sex, aggression, winning, losing, gangs, the powerful effects of testosterone are entwined with them all. These are the ingredients of human history, so testosterone has played a central role in our story.
In Testosterone , Joe Herbert explains the nature of this potent hormone, how it operates in mammals in general and in humans in particular, what we know about its role in influencing various aspects of behaviour in men, and what we are beginning to understand of its role in women. From rape to gang warfare among youths, understanding the workings of testosterone is critical to enable us to manage its continuing powerful effects in modern society.
This paperback edition includes expanded material reflecting the latest research on the role of testosterone in women and in street gangs.
Despite its subtitle, this book is far from proving—or even convincingly illustrating—that testosterone has a fundamental influence on human behavior. As any serious scientist should, Herbert is candid about the limits of current understanding of testosterone’s effects on the body, so the book contains countless caveats and qualifications—which I enjoyed and found necessary. However, every chapter ends on a renewed, booming declaration of the universe-bending influence of this hormone in men (and, due to their affiliation with men, on women, as Herbert doesn’t tire pointing out), suggesting that readers should completely wipe their memory of the past twenty pages of hedging. What a weird, self-contradictory book.
Here is my sense of what is happening. Herbert (born in 1936), really likes the idea of this magical little steroid putting half of humanity into frenzies of aggression and libido which have to be heroically restrained by the prefrontal cortex. This is his jam. While most of the book is sober and appropriately detached, Herbert’s prose turns florid, nay, elegiac, when he marvels at the muscle-bulging, hair-sprouting, vein-popping qualities of his favorite molecule. He’s so in love with masculinity that he substitutes “man” and “mankind” for “humanity” or “humankind,” as if the book had been published in 1960 and not 2017 (I know that Oxford is a conservative press but, seriously, this should have been caught at the line-editing stage). This wishful-thinking elision of men and humans makes some of Herbert’s general observations about people extremely confusing (to put it mildly) since testosterone mostly shapes male physiology, although it also affects female people, just that adult women’s blood contains about 10% of men’s testosterone levels. Mathematically correct, Herbert then only devotes a single chapter (out of 10) to the way testosterone shapes women’s lived experience (news flash: it can heighten libido--who would have guessed?). The fact that this chapter was added for the second edition and is the shortest of the bunch indicates that this author doesn't really care about testosterone's role in female physiology.
Herbert does pay some lip service to the nature/nurture debate, but, throughout, he slips into biological determinism, making him sound like a Darwin fanboy. Simple evolutionary explanations abound (didn’t you know, all men always want to maximize the number of their offspring, no matter what!), and there's a lot of masculinist essentialism and transfer of insights gleaned from animal observations onto human behavior. Herbert ignores sophisticated research in biology, neuroscience, psychology, sociology, history, and philosophy on how gender, anatomical sex, and sexual orientation are expressed (and conceptualized!) differently depending on historical context and local circumstance. Still, to assure us that he is well-read, Herbert generously sprinkles his pages with epigraphs and footnotes that quote random male poets, novelists, and Greek philosophers (Virginia Woolf makes a guest appearance as the lone woman), oddly undermining the rigor of his method. This is not the latest on testosterone research—the prose is painfully dated and unaware of its own biases. Skip.