A recent study headed by researcher Tim Spector revealed there might be a gene that predisposes women to infidelity. According to tentative findings published in the Scottish newspaper The Scotsman, genes are responsible for 40 percent of the reasons why women have affairs. The other 60 percent of reasons are related to their husbands “having a headache” or just “not being in the mood tonight.”

This study is one of many that seeks to blame heredity for personality and character flaws. Everything from alcoholism to gambling addiction can be traced back to our genes, and slowly, a victor is emerging from the “nature vs. nurture” bloodbath.

Kids have been saying it and saying it – and science is finally proving it. It really isn’t our fault.

After all these years of blaming our parents and the media, we have found the true culprit. Those slippery little genes. Forget temporary insanity and psychological trauma pleas. Soon there will be a “rape gene” plea, or maybe even an “I didn’t know she was my cousin, plus she looked 18” plea.

However, before we all agree that it is not our fault, let’s examine the ugly side of the nature argument. If our genes predestine us to be either coke fiends or beauty queens, what hope is there for those of us who were born with needles in our arms?

I am forced to ask: If my genes have doomed me to be an obese, cheating, gambling, alcoholic nympho, then why am I even pretending to be to an LAS major? Why not just pull up to a curb on Green Street and open up shop?

These studies seem to let us off the hook for our bad behavior, but essentially, they tell us that a percentage of us are doomed to failure. Is it you? Or maybe me? In 2070, babies will be born with computer printouts that can let parents know right away that “Yes, he will be an addict” but “No, he won’t get your bad taste in sideburns.”

I don’t know about you, but I think that really takes the fun out of life. I, for one, want to be surprised when my future son flunks out of school and plays online poker for a living.

Before we all begin down that long road to Bumville, it’s important to note that genetic studies have yet to prove anything beyond a reasonable doubt. After all, Spector’s study hasn’t even been published yet, though it already has appeared in many national newspapers and probably will be written into the next episode of Desperate Housewives.

Still, even if Spector is proven to be just a bitter divorcee, there are plenty of other studies showing that genes have a significant effect on personality. Identical twins separated at birth have been shown to have many things in common, proving that genes determine many aspects of ourselves, from what we name our kids to what Sex and the City character we most identify with.

Even in the face of such facts, I still believe in accountability and personal willpower. Call me outdated, but I would like to believe that everybody has a chance at happiness and honesty, no matter what their genes dictate. I know I’m old-fashioned, but I would like to believe that the only thing keeping me down is patriarchy and Dave Matthews songs. With those kinds of enemies, the last thing I need is my own body turning against me.

Maybe the days when you could pull yourself up by your bootstraps have long since past. Maybe all we can do now is drift along in the gene pool.

But until they find the gene for designer-handbag addiction and Mary-Kate- and Ashley-mania, I am keeping my feet dry.

Bridget Sharkey is a senior in LAS. Her columns run Mondays. She can be reached at [email protected].