Summary with Consciousness Blackmore & Troscianko - 3rd edition
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‘The mind is a kind of theatre, where several perceptions successively make their appearance; pass, repass, glide away and mingle in an infinite variety of postures and situations.’
These are the words of Hume , the beginning of the 18th century. It stems back from the days op Plato and his allegory of the cave. If you don’t know the allegory, look it up on YouTube, there are some pretty good videos on it.
But Hume did usher a word of caution, not to let the theatre mislead us. The idea of a theatre is very simplistic, while in reality, the mind is a very complex, fluent thing.
If asked where they think they are located, most people answer somewhere in their head or their heart. Most people (about 83%) conceive themselves as ‘the I that perceives’, often located in their head near the eyes.
Most people also feel like their mind is a space, where sensory experiences come and pass, a place where things and thoughts are viewed by the mind. This is exactly like the Cartesian theatre. And while it may feel like that big open space, Daniel Dennett (He’s back people!) argues, like many other theorists, that this space and the mind in that sense of the allegory, do not exist.
The Cartesian look of things is simple. Many materialists still search for that one place where consciousness arises – the Cartesian Theatre – and thus still hold onto a dualist pattern of thinking, where the consciousness has to arise from a single specific place.
Being a Cartesian materialist (CM) has become some type of word for abuse. It implies you cannot pick sides, or are unconsciously not very convinced of your own point. In other words, it’s not very nice.
CM is everywhere if you just look, in common phrases such as ‘snap into consciousness’ or the idea that something happens outside of the consciousness. This chapter examines the evidence of whether or not a theatre of the mind is possible.
The biggest question thus far asked is, ‘where the hell is our consciousness located then?’ If you, very attentively, reach out and touch you nose, where do you sit in your theatre and experience this sensation? Realistically, the consciousness should both give orders to the body and receive feedback on what the body does and feels. So, there are two options. 1) There is some kind of neural hierarchy and consciousness is at the top, or 2) something goes out, something goes in.
But the large trouble is that there simply is not space in the brain or body where this theatre can be located, no point where we can say our consciousness is attached to. Of course you could trace a path op input and take the point where the input stops and the output begins, but again, there is no single path for this. Different stimuli take different routes and there is not a single, true way. So no luck there either.
Same goes for the fact that there is not a specific moment where the output happens. It’s not like you sit in your theatre, examine what happens and then decide on a course of action. Sometimes you’ve already acted before the sensation is finished, and sometimes two reactions come at different speeds and times. There is not a moment where all input changes to output.
In 1971, Roger Shepard came with the mental rotation experiment, where people had to say whether two images were rotated views of the same thing or not. (Exercise 1)
It was found that the time it took to answer was similar to the time it takes to rotate the image in space. The same went for an exercise where they had to guess how long it would take to get from point A to point B on a map.
It suggest that there is some kind of mind’s eye that inspects visual questions. This point of view has been challenged often, but there still isn’t quite a clear answer yet (seriously, the book goes 1.5 page about the fact that there isn’t an answer, it is a little tiring). There are three views to it;
The problem with thinking there is a screen or stage in your head on which everything, no matter whether it is pictures, words or the act of imagining, are portrayed, is that, if there is someone watching, who also has a body and a brain and thoughts, then they must have an inner-person too. And that inner-person must than also have an inner-person. Do you see how it becomes an infinite row of inner-persons? This is one of the biggest problems the Cartesian Theatre has to offer.
Crick and Koch came with the solution that it is the front part of the brain that looks at the back part. But then it’s just the structure of the brain. Where does consciousness play into this?
If you look at something of a colour, ask yourself, what makes this colour so? If you have yellow, wonder what the qualia are. Is it just the yellowness? Or the warmth of the colour or the things it makes you think of? Where is this yellowness located?
Hard questions, I know, but none the less necessary to understand the magnitude of the problem we are dealing with here.
Have you ever been in the car or on the bike and you are going somewhere you have been a hundred times before. You have got some good music on and you become a little too involved in it, belting out the lyrics like you are on some big music show. Then you look up and WOW, you have already arrived, without the slightest recollection that you ever even drove there.
This is the unconscious driving phenomenon and often takes place when you are distracted. In the Cartesian theatre, it is easily explained, your inner person inside was occupied with something else that was on stage and let your body do the work. But what if there isn’t a Cartesian theatre? Or what if there is but it simply is just a theatre, nothing Cartesian about it. How do you explain that then?
Here, Bernard Baars’ General Workspace Theory (hereafter GWT) comes into play. Important to the foundation of this theory is the dramatic contrast between the little amount of items that are available in consciousness at any one time and the large number of unconscious neural processes going on at the exact same moment. The best way to understand this, according to Baars, is in terms of a theatre. Focal consciousness acts as a bright spot, which is the stage, on which the spotlight of attention moves to different actors and settings. Around the spotlight – on the stage but in the shadows, possibly is a fringe of events that are only vaguely or potentially conscious. Meanwhile, the rest of the theatre is dark and unconscious. The unconscious audience sitting in the dark receives information from the bright spot, while behind the scenes there are numerous unconscious contextual systems that shape the events happening in the light.
The GWT theory only becomes more plausible when looking at previously proven theories in the fields of psychology and neuro science. The stage is similar to the working memory, which can hold up to 7 ± 2 items at the same time. Which item is truly at the centre is dependent on what the, also proven, spotlight of attention is directed at. And the background unconscious systems are very similar to the way our previous experiences influence what we are currently seeing and feeling, even if we are not aware of it.
Baars thus also argues consciousness is nothing mysterious, it simply is a fully integrated part of our cognitive functioning, a gateway to our nervous systems. What makes a thought or occurrence conscious is the fact that it is being processed in this global workspace. If a lot of other things occupy this workspace, then the first thought is thus neglected to the fringe or the darkness.
What differs the GWT from a Cartesian theatre is that it does not require an actual space somewhere where everything comes together. Thanks to the spotlight of attention, everything can stay and be processed in their own sensory region or brain area.
However, one could argue that the GWT is still, in fact a Cartesian theatre, by making us of the following two points; 1) the theory still holds onto the idea that sometimes things are in the conscious and sometimes they are not, and 2) when does a thing have that extra bit of something that makes it appear in the GWT?
Now the last part is easily explained. When something occurs in the consciousness of the GMT, it is something that needs the attention for the perceived survival, thus making it important for it to be conscious.
For the first issue, remind yourself that in GWT, consciousness is practically equal to attention. And that something is in your attention suddenly doesn’t seem that Cartesian at all.
It’s hard to come up with a theory without any distinction of things being in and out of consciousness, but a good example is the identity theory by Paul and Pat Churchland. They correlate consciousness with cognitive electrical brainwaves. Taking the example that electromagnetic waves do not cause light, they are light, the pull the same distinction when it comes to consciousness. The activity of our brain, in waves and impulses and connections, that is what consciousness is.
However, it doesn’t explain how a distracted driver might not notice a red light even though he is still looking and doesn’t explain a single thing about how experience and brainwaves equal to consciousness.
Then there are also reductionists like Crick, who came with the ‘astonishing theory’, which reduces all a person is to a bunch of nerves and impulses. However, even though he does not speak of a theatre or stage, he still speaks of the thalamus as the spotlight of directing attention. In a way, thus, it is still Cartesian.
When it comes to the red light, Crick (and later joined by Koch) brought forwards a number of neural theories, such as thalamocortical loops, that determined whether the light was currently being perceived or not.
Then there are also other theories. Dutch neuroscientist Cyriel Pennartz, for example, called consciousness the solution to ‘the brain’s representational problem’: how to integrate multiple pieces of sensory information into a coherent whole that can be immediately recognized, rapidly understood, and acted upon. He started by splitting up the requirements for consciousness into ‘hard’, or also called non-optional, and ‘soft’, optional and common. The ‘hard’ prerequisite of consciousness is an ability to interpret multiple sensory inputs as having particular qualities, meaning, or content – in our example, interpreting all the visual qualities of the red light at the same time as surrounding stimuli, and attributing the meaning ‘stop’ to the scenario. The ‘soft’ requirements include projection of interpreted sensory inputs into an external, perspectival space (as in vision) or body map (as in somatosensation), and the construction of an illusion of ‘unity’ in consciousness and self-awareness. The brain, according to Pennartz, is capable of making a multi-dimensional representatation, and each new sensory experience adds a dimension.
(Honestly, the list of theories goes on and on, my god!)
This view of the importance of multidimensional integration bears some resemblance to the cross-brain broadcasting of information in GWT, which, in turn, also resembles what is currently probably the most popular of all theories of consciousness, integrated information theory (IIT). IIT was originally proposed by Giulio Tononi in 2004, and has evolved from there. The basic principle is that the more ‘integrated information’ there is in a physical system, the more conscious that system is, and the amount of integrated information is measured by a mathematical variable, Φ (phi).
Important in all these theories, but especially in IIT and GWT, is that consciousness is a continuous variable. You can have some of it, a little or a lot, different amounts of it are possible in different scenarios.
In the case of IIT, a system becomes conscious (and has free will) if it has a large value of Φ, and a system is more conscious the higher its Φ value (aka the continuous variable of consciousness). The fact of having a large value of Φ can also help explain the specific qualities of a given conscious experience compared to all the other possible ones: because generating a large amount of integrated information entails having a highly structured set of mechanisms that allow us to make many nested discriminations (choices) as a single entity. We experience the red light not simply as the opposite of no light, or of green, but as different from any other possible experience we might have. For IIT, consciousness is integrated information, and its quality (Φ) is given by the informational relationships generated by a complex of elements. This means that IIT does not need to even allude to a Cartesian theatre, because any part of the nervous system can in theory contain integrated information, and thus be part of the consciousness.
Another attempt to bridge the explanatory gap without the help of a theatre appeals to quantum-level processes – that is, processes involving the smallest possible amount of a given physical entity (like a photon or an electron). Now, I will discuss the most elaborately explained researcher in the book, but many small examples are mentioned, so if you want to read about those, check page 120, okay?
Roger Penrose, British physicist and mathematician, said that to solve the hard problem we need to understand the problem of incompatible explanatory levels. There are two levels of explanation in physics: the ‘classical’ level used to describe large-scale objects (such as ‘red’ or ’20 km/h’, and the quantum level used to describe very small things and governed by the Schrödinger equation (Look it up on YouTube!). Both these levels are completely deterministic and computable. The trouble starts when you move from one to the other. At the quantum level superposed states are possible – that is, two possibilities can exist at the same time – but at the classical level either one or other (seeing the light as red or green) must be the case. When we make an observation (working at the classical level), the superposed states have to collapse into one or other possibility, a process known as the collapse of the wave function. (yay)
The biggest issue of this entire theory has always been whether quantum coherence could survive in a warm, wet brain. Hameroff and Penrose argue that biology can use thermal energy to drive coherence, while physicist Matthew Fisher (2015) has proposed that the nuclear spins of phosphorus atoms in the brain could allow it to function as a quantum computer. But if the brain is a quantum computer, does this tell us anything about consciousness? Are we made of the same data our technology is?
Back to Dennet. The man tells us many things that are certainly not true, but then fails to completely promote a cohesive theory himself. He did come up with the ‘multiple drafts theory’. In multiple drafts theory, perceptions, emotions, thoughts, and all kinds of cognitive activity are accomplished in the brain by multitrack parallel processes that interpret and elaborate sensory inputs, and all are under continuous revision. Like the many drafts of a book or article, perceptions and thoughts are constantly revised and altered, and at any point in time there are multiple drafts of narrative fragments at various stages of editing in various places in the brain.
But the one question you should not ask, according to Dennett, is which one are conscious. The thing is, none of them are conscious and yet all of them are. There is not inner person, no inner-you to judge what is conscious and what is not.
Now here is what the books tells us about MDT; ‘If you find multiple drafts difficult and worrying, then you are probably beginning to understand it. It is difficult to understand because doing so means throwing out many of our usual habits of thought concerning our own consciousness.’ So, eh, I guess we’re on the right track.
For how great Dennett is at criticising, he kind of fails to see his own theory lacks the same things he judges others on. For example, the role of the brain and the extend of it is entirely unclear and the issue remains.
So obviously, the MDT is not the perfect theory either. Obviously, because otherwise this summary would be about MDT and not about consciousness as a whole.
5.1. Find yourself a version of the rotation experiment. Ask yourself, where am I rotating this image? Where in my mind am I doing this?
Hi!
This book is subdivided into six parts, each with 3 corresponding chapters. Here is an overview of the components;
Consciousness, or consciousness, is a confusing concept. This book is therefore not made to resolve this confusion - in fact, it will make the probable worse.
The majority of this confusion is caused by the fact that there is no fixed sense of explanation for the concept of "consciousness," despite the many attempts made by philosophy and science. Consciousness can be used as a sign of unconsciousness, but also as the concept of understanding science of something. In other words, words fall short for this concept.
Moreover, the study of consciousness is a relatively young branch of science and therefore not much is known. This book tries to teach you to take a different look at the world around you. As you read this, you are probably so aware that you are aware of the world around you, but is that so? When are you really aware? What are you currently aware of?
The problem of awareness is related to a few of the well-known philosophical questions. Why do we exist? What is the world made of? Who of what am I? Do I think I am actually doing that?
Over the last century, people have only become comfortable using the term "consciousness" and it is no longer always synonymous with the mind. We know how the brain works and how things develop, how the body reacts to drugs and alcohol and sadness - and yet we are not a step further to a definition for consciousness.
What it always seems to come down to is a kind of philosophical twofold. Are we our body of our thoughts, Are we subjective of objective? We come down to a sort of dichotomy, and the question of consciousness is spiritual is simply a scientific phenomenon that we cannot yet explain.
You can think about things or so many different ways, and that is then only your subjective experience. For example, think of a dog you are stroking - the fur, the warmth that the animal radiates, etc. And then think of the same dog, but now it is waiting for you at a distance. The same animal, two very different images.
For years, philosophy has been arguing about the concept of consciousness, and you can roughly divide their opinion into monism and dualism. Most people therefore agree with dualism, which says that there is a distinction between your body and the "self" (also known as the mind, the consciousness). However, nobody knows for sure where this separation is and what it is. (This entire book would be a lot shorter if we knew that.)
An example of a dualist is René Descartes, the creator of the well-known "I think, so I exist." Descartes had a theory, indeed that the body and soul were made of two different materials, and that the soul was made of something that was not physically tangible. This is called substantive dualism.
The big problem with this kind of dualism is the contact between the two substances. It must be an interactive connection, but there is no point in the body that seems to be present. Descartes claimed that this occurred in the pineal gland, but that was later caused incorrectly. Most voices agree that substantive dualism therefore does not work.
Gilbert
.....read moreIn 1974, Thomas Nagel came up with the question, "What is it like to be a bat?" He meant that wondering how a mental state is caused if neurons are not the same as understanding how water is H2O. Our consciousness and our subjectivity stand in the way of that concept.
If you compare a stone and a cat, you will quickly say that the stone has no consciousness and the cat does. This is because there are no experiences or forms to a stone. But there is something that makes a cat a cat, a kind of being a cat. So if you say that another organism is a consciousness, you are actually saying that there is a species for that organism.
So, Nagel's definition of consciousness is whether you can ask the question, "What is it like ..." There are some snags in this definition, but as long as you are not trying to be smart and take it out of context, you are on the right track.
Imagine that you are a bat. Bats are very different from humans - they use echolocation, and their ears are much more important than their eyes. As a human being, it is very difficult to imagine what that is like. Bats don't see depth, can you imagine what that is like?
But even if you could turn yourself into a bat and back, even then you wouldn't know what it's like to be a bat, since bats don't speak a language and aren't concerned with philosophical questions.
A distinction is therefore made between P consciousness (phenomenal consciousness) and A consciousness (access consciousness). The P consciousness is the function that makes it a being to be something, and the A consciousness is the presence to think and act.
You would think that we are only talking about P consciousness in this book, but that is not the case. Reporting and realizing everything that you are aware of is also very important. Just think how you would describe colors or life, for example. You can report it, but there will always be a bit more, a bit of consciousness. This is an example of a combination between the two types of consciousness.
This distinction is also regularly rejected, and some philosophers believe that there is only P consciousness, while others only believe that there is A consciousness. Does this sound familiar? Jupp, it is very similar to dualism and monism, huh?
But if there is something to be a bat, then there is also something to be you. Use
.....read moreIn the past two chapters you have hopefully become a little doubtful about your own interpretation of the world. Often we cannot fully trust our own ideas about consciousness, or we do not have the right tools to substantiate it.
It can be pretty scary to realize that you cannot trust your own experiences, and if you go too deep it can throw you in a deep dark hole. However, it can also feel very liberating for some.
The point is, sometimes the existence of consciousness can seem like an illusion. Remember that an illusion does not mean that there is nothing - an illusion means that there is something that seems something else. (Example: a barking dog is an illusion of aggressiveness - however, it is not aggressive but scared.)
In the context of consciousness, it is important not to forget this definition. When we say the consciousness is but an illusion, we mean to say that in fact, it is something else that hasn’t been explained yet.
A good example of illusions are the visual ‘optical illusions’ that we all know. Our brain create an image that isn’t actually there, but that doesn’t mean there is nothing. What is there are the things that create the illusion, and our brain makes something else out of it.
Vision, can be argued, is our primary sense. If two senses are competing (such as seeing someone say something and hearing something else) – vision wins most of the time. Our language is littered with visual allegories too, such as ‘I see what you mean’.
That doesn’t mean that vision is never wrong, however – cue the optical illusions. Just like our thoughts and experience, vision can sometimes betray us and show us something that isn’t there, or leave out something that is.
It’s hard to imagine not seeing if you have seen all your life. It’s such a basic thing that, just like breathing, you are not consciously aware of doing it most of the time. But now try to focus on seeing. Look around, close your eyes and open them again. Do you see one picture? Do you see loose elements combined into one? Do you see everything or just a little bit at a time? Do you notice anything you didn’t see before?
It’s weird how these questions focus your awareness, huh? This oddity is what caused the term ‘grand illusion’ to arise. Vision can be
.....read moreIf you could look right inside a brain and see everything that was happening there, would you then understand consciousness? That is what this chapter opens with.
And yes, some would say yes. Materialists and identity theories would agree that, of you could see and understand everything of the brain, then the problem of consciousness would be solved entirely. However, any of the theorists that believe that consciousness is something extended, something other would disagree. Because after all, the mind, the soul is something that isn’t physical, so how could examining the brain help with understanding it?
Noë is one of these people, who says ‘you are not your brain’. We always have tried to look at consciousness as something inside the brain but what if it isn’t there? What if it is somewhere else in the body, or even outside of it? You wouldn’t find it by studying matter and neural connections. This is what is the called the fallacy of neurocentrism – believing that everything happens inside the brain.
Then, there are also the mysterians, who seem to believe that there is never a way to understand consciousness and many would also say that we are not meant to understand it. They, too, would thus disagree that examining the brain would help not in the slightest bit when it comes to understanding the consciousness. Some other mysterians also simply believe that at this point in time and technology, we will never understand conscious, but maybe in the future we might.
Interesting is that nobody flat out said that the brain has nothing to do with consciousness, they just disagree on what extend it does. The naked eye doesn’t reveal much about that big grey lump in our heads, however, attaching some electrodes or looking at a slice through a microscope helps a lot.
It’s said to be one of the most complex things in the universe, holding over 80 billion neurons and trillions of neural connection. You can understand why it is hard to grasp everything that the brain does. But those neural connections don’t end with the brain. They are also spread out over the entire body, and with the spinal cord together form the Central Nervous System (CNS).
Quick recap of the brain:
‘The mind is a kind of theatre, where several perceptions successively make their appearance; pass, repass, glide away and mingle in an infinite variety of postures and situations.’
These are the words of Hume , the beginning of the 18th century. It stems back from the days op Plato and his allegory of the cave. If you don’t know the allegory, look it up on YouTube, there are some pretty good videos on it.
But Hume did usher a word of caution, not to let the theatre mislead us. The idea of a theatre is very simplistic, while in reality, the mind is a very complex, fluent thing.
If asked where they think they are located, most people answer somewhere in their head or their heart. Most people (about 83%) conceive themselves as ‘the I that perceives’, often located in their head near the eyes.
Most people also feel like their mind is a space, where sensory experiences come and pass, a place where things and thoughts are viewed by the mind. This is exactly like the Cartesian theatre. And while it may feel like that big open space, Daniel Dennett (He’s back people!) argues, like many other theorists, that this space and the mind in that sense of the allegory, do not exist.
The Cartesian look of things is simple. Many materialists still search for that one place where consciousness arises – the Cartesian Theatre – and thus still hold onto a dualist pattern of thinking, where the consciousness has to arise from a single specific place.
Being a Cartesian materialist (CM) has become some type of word for abuse. It implies you cannot pick sides, or are unconsciously not very convinced of your own point. In other words, it’s not very nice.
CM is everywhere if you just look, in common phrases such as ‘snap into consciousness’ or the idea that something happens outside of the consciousness. This chapter examines the evidence of whether or not a theatre of the mind is possible.
The biggest question thus far asked is, ‘where the hell is our consciousness located then?’ If you, very attentively, reach out and touch you nose, where do you sit in your theatre and experience
.....read moreIf there is one thing that has not been questioned yet, it is that our consciousness is one thing and certainly not made up out of many parts.
From an outsiders point of view, this seems like a rather illogical assumption. The brain for instance, is made of many parts and processes, all running and functioning simultaneously, without ever having to come together. The same goes for the body. So why not for the consciousness?
It is proven that different processes in the brain and body work at different speeds and cues. This means there isn’t a focal point where they all start or finish. Seeing as we cannot find on specific place the consciousness is housed or located, it would almost make sense to consider that the consciousness might be made of many parts as well.
However, if you stop looking from a biological point of view, you might see where this conscious unity is coming from. After all, you only experience one ‘me’, and the only point your consciousness can ever find itself in is the present. We only see one world around us, not different parts of sound and vision and touch. Thus, a question arises;
How can such unity, experienced right now, arise from such diversity of non-instantaneous processing?
When stating it like that, dualism will look like a very nice, promising option. Dualism, after all, states that there is one, coherent mind that governs consciousness and is completely separate from those neuro-biological processes in the body. There, problem solved.
Many philosophers, such as Descartes and Poppers, chose this solution. As did Benjamin Libet, who proposed to take a part of a person’s cortex from the brain and keep it artificially alive. If his theory was right, then electrical stimulation of the piece of brain should, through central mental fields, provide a sensation with the owner of the brain, and thus prove consciousness is a mental field. (It failed.)
So yeah, like proven in previous chapters, though seeming to hold the answers, dualism seems to run into more trouble than the answers that it offers. Including dualism, there seem to be three options to the unity of consciousness;
Doesn’t it seem like the three options every consciousness issue ever offers? That’s right, because they are. These are the three things always to consider when dealing with a consciousness problem.
.....read moreMany philosophers are still in disagreement of whether the concept of attention is a real thing or not. The very familiarity of the concept of attention can make it hard to think about clearly, but perhaps we should start with how it feels. The metaphor of the ‘spotlight of attention’ comes easily to mind because paying attention feels this way – like directing a light on some things and not others. Perhaps it feels as though attention makes things or thoughts brighter, more prominent, or more focused.
Attention feels like something extra. Hamilton, for instance, described it as, ‘Attention is like concentrated consciousness.’ It feels like the intensity of things increase when you focus attention on them.
And while we shouldn’t thing of attention’s metaphors – such as the spotlight – as something real, experiments have found that the metaphor of ‘lighting up’ has an almost realistic equivalent: a real attentional ‘spotlighting’ effect in visual perception. Participants kept their eyes fixated on the fovea, where spatial resolution is highest, and were shown textures in the periphery, where it is much lower. When they attended to the textures, they could more easily distinguish them. It was as though their spatial resolution had improved. Crucially, in tasks where enhanced resolution actually makes the task harder, the same effect was found for focused attention too: participants’ performance got worse. Later experiments found that the same effect for brightness, contrast, and colour saturation, but not for differences in hue. It seems that, as in James’s notion of focalisation and concentration, attention actually increases the spatial resolution of what we see. It may also change visual and other sensory experience in different ways depending on context, so it seems that attention can qualitatively shape the kinds of conscious experiences we have – even if, as James also pointed out, we know how to adjust for these effects so we are not misled into thinking the light actually just got brighter.
The image of the spotlight of attention is well known, but perhaps, looking at your own experience, there might be a couple of different metaphors applicable too. This is one way for what we call ‘first-person practice’ to relate to consciousness and one reason why we ask you to devote time and energy to the ‘exercises’ suggested in each chapter: we cannot hope to understand consciousness in general unless we are familiar with our own personal version of it. And the idea of ‘paying careful attention to experience’
.....read moreThe ‘power of the unconscious’ is a common phrase reflecting the popular notion that our minds are divided in two, conscious and the unconscious. We are either urged to unleash our unconscious potential or listen to what bubbles up in us, but we also learned to overrule our animal instincts and emotions with reason thanks to our conscious mind.
We link the conscious and the unconscious to mind and body: we often think as the conscious processes as mental ones (I’ve given it much thought) and the unconscious processes as embodied (I have a gut feeling)
The division of the mind can be traced back to ancient Egypt about sleep and dream and early Hindu texts. Plato also gave the soul three parts: Reason, Spirit, Appetite, all with their own goals and abilities.
Gradually this shifted from parts of mind to mechanisms and distinct types of processing within one brain. This can be traced back to Helm-Holtz’s idea of ‘unconscious inference’, to William James’s distinction between associative and true reasoning. Most theories suggest that one process is fast, automatic, inflexible, effortless and dependent on context, while the other is slow, effortful, controlled, flexible, requires working memory and independent of context. This has been rediscovered and reinvented time after time, the distinction is common because it is valid.
The question is this – what could the difference between conscious and unconscious processes be?
For this we will consider first perception, then action and finally how perception and action and conscious and unconscious may converge in the phenomena of intuition and creativity.
Simple everyday phenomenon, like only noticing the humming of a microwave when it stops, seem odd because it suggests perception without consciousness. You unconsciously hear the sound. The phenomena of unconscious perception have been known since the very early days of psychology. Whenever there is a talk of automatic behaviour, unconscious processed or subliminal effects, there is an implicit comparison with conscious processes, yet those remain entirely unexplained. In early experiments, conscious perception was defined in terms of what people said: if we say we are conscious or unconscious of something, then (unless deliberately lying) we are. Yet this is problematic in some ways:
One problem is that whether people say they have consciously seen (or felt or heard) something depends on how cautious that are being. This became clearer with the signal detection theory.
This requires tow variables to explain how people detect things like sounds, flashes of
.....read moreIf you think back to the things you do and the movements you make, there is often a disconnect between the build up and the actual action. Think of it like waking up and it is freezing, but you are under the covers and there it’s warm.
The question James asks us in this scenario, is, how on earth do we get up, under these circumstances? Where does the will to get up and go about your day come from? It might involve a long process of convincing yourself of sticking a leg out of the covers, then removing them, then getting up, but other days, you blink, and you find that you miraculously just got up, without any conscious decision to do so. (Exercise 1) This is example of the oddity that is free will.
The problem of free will may be the most-discussed philosophical problem of all time and we can date is back to as far as the Ancient Greek philosophers two thousand years ago. The basic question is whether or not we are free to choose our actions and make decisions, and for us and this book, it is whether consciousness has any role to play in our acting freely or feeling the things we do.
Many religions bear the concept of free will, as well as the consequences of the actions that you make out of free will. Christianity has Heaven and Hell, in the Islam people are judged by the Almighty Allah. And when asked then what it is that made these choices, most religions point to the soul as the one with the free will. A form of consciousness then.
There are two main problems. For free will, the biggest problem is determinism: if this universe runs by deterministic laws, then everything that happens must be inevitable, so the argument goes, and if everything is inevitable, there is no room for free will. And without free will, there isn’t a point to doing anything, because there was no other way things could have gone.
The problem for the belief of absence of free will is moral responsibility: if I am not truly free to choose my actions, then how can I be held morally or legally responsible for them?
This is where the connections with self and consciousness come in. Because after all, we tend to believe that ‘I’ am the one who acts, the one who has free will. ‘I’ am the one who (un)consciously decided to spring out of bed early this morning. When the chosen action then happens, it seems as though my conscious thought was responsible.
And it’s true that it seems that without the conscious thought, you would
.....read moreHumans are animals, so questions about consciousness of the human can also be related to the rest of the animal kingdom. This chapter will introduce the basic of evolutionary theory as a foundation on which to ask about the evolution of consciousness in different species.
What is mindless design?
When we see obvious signs of design, we readily infer a designer. This, in essence, is the argument of design by reverend William Paley in 1802. He supposed that he found either a stone or a watch. For the stone he concluded it had always been there, but for the watch he concluded it must have a maker. Every bit and piece constructed to fulfil its purpose. He could not see how these complex pieces could have come together by accident, nor the effect of natural forces. He thought it self-evident that ‘there can’t be design without designer; contrivance without contriver; order, without choice’.
With animals and their specific and complex designs of anatomy and behaviour, it must indicate there is a designer, in which this argument become evidence for the existence of god.
Paley’s ideas were wrong. Oxford biologist Richard Dawkins said there are more than just two options – accident and or conscious design. There is a third, that was not able to be explained in Paley’s time, but was clear by Darwin’s theory of natural selection and evolution.
Evolution means gradual change and living things might, in general sense, change. The fossil world suggested gradual change in living forms and this demanded explanation. What was missing was the mechanism of how evolution works. Darwin came with the answer, natural selection. Over a longer period of time, creatures vary and if there sometimes is a severe struggle for life, then some variation must occur in structure or habit that is advantageous to a creature. The individuals with this new characteristic will survive and produce off spring with that same characteristic. If you have Variation, Selection, and Heredity, you must get evolution.
Natural selection isn’t the only force in evolution. Together with mutation, genetic drift, gene flow, sexual selection, and layers of self-organisation from the molecular level upwards, it explains how design appears natural without designed.
What is directed evolution?
Jean-Baptiste Lamarck agreed with Darwin. He believed that if an animal used a particular faculty to change itself, the effect would be passed on to their offspring. This suggested evolution is progressive and directional, with species inevitably change over time. Darwin’s scheme suggested no thing as progress. This vastly created a tree
Evolutionary theory answers the ‘why’ questions in life. ‘Why do birds have wings?’ So they can fly. Then you can ask, why are we conscious?
Nikolas Humphrey thought we developed consciousness because it gave us a selective advantage. However, the link between consciousness and evolution is not that simple. The history of evolutionary psychology contains multiple scientists with different beliefs about its origin.
Charles Darwin wrote evolutionary psychology (E.P.) would settle as a respected field in biology. Nevertheless, Williams argued that the human mind couldn’t be defined solely by the mutations of genes. This opposition introduced ‘sociobiology’, a field which has been ridiculed repeatedly. Sociobiology has similarities well as as differences with evolutionary psychology, listed in the table below:
Similarities between sociobiology and evolutionary psychology | Differences between sociobiology and evolutionary psychology |
Exploration of human sexual behaviour and preferences | The understanding of the construction of the human mind |
Differences in ability and aptitudes between sexes | E.P. believes we behave the way we do because of our genes and environment |
Social gender roles | Sociobiology treats human behaviour as adaptions |
Assumption of the presence of human nature |
|
The problem with the ‘adaption’ theory, according the evolutionary psychologists is that we have a different origin (first humans in Africa) which we have to take into account when judging these adaptions (sugar for hunter-gatherers even though it causes obesity now, food cravings by pregnant women even though we are well-fed now). Steven Pinker debated that we also developed certain tastes and traits, because it made us more desirable to produce offspring.
Along the way humans grew a sense of morality, but where did this come from? Some believe it was provided by a God, others think it is a product of our consciousness. What is clear is that we can trace the origin of morality to our ancestors, namely the preservation of your own genes (family as well as racial) and the theory of reciprocity. This reciprocal altruïsm is believed to be the source of sympathy, trust and justice.
According to evolutionary theory, our consciousness should serve a function. However, we can argue whether it has a function at all, and if so, what it
.....read moreIs there something special about human beings that enables us to think, see, hear, feel, and fall in love? Something that gives us a desire to be good, a love of beauty, and a longing for something beyond? Or are all these capacities just the products of a complicated mechanism inside our bodies? In other words, am I just a machine? And could the machines what we create then also one day do all those things and more? In other words, could there be machine consciousness (MC) or artificial consciousness (AC)? If there could, we may have some kind of moral responsibility for our creations. We may also find that their existence changes our views of our own consciousness.
Ever since the Ancient Greeks, the idea that we are machines has existed. In the seventeenth century, Descartes argued that the human body was a mechanism but that no mechanism alone was capable of speech and rational thought – for that, res cogitans or thinking-stuff was needed.
Among those who rejected his dualism was Gottfried von Leibniz who came up with his famous allegory of the mill. Imagine a machine whose construction enabled it to think, feel, and perceive. Imagine, then, that the machine were enlarged while retaining the same proportions, so that we could go inside it, like entering a windmill. Inside we would find only pieces working upon one another and never anything to explain the perception. From this he concluded that to explain perception, we must look to a simple substance rather than to the workings of a machine, which can never have the unity that consciousness does. Similarly as the mill, if we now look inside our brain, we can see the cogs and beams and walls that make the brain so, but not anything that seems to give us consciousness.
Nowadays, with all we know of our anatomy and psychology, the question is not so much ‘Am I a machine?’ but ‘What kind of machine am I?’, and, for our purposes here, ‘Where do “I” fit in?’ and ‘Where does consciousness fit in?’ These answers we can seek in both biological research or try to mimic it using artificial intelligence.
In biology, science has successively explained more and more of the mechanisms of perception, learning, memory, and thinking, and in so doing has only amplified the ancient open question about consciousness. That is, when all these
.....read moreJames, at some point, said the following; ‘Our normal waking consciousness, rational consciousness as we call it, is but one special type of consciousness, whilst all about it, parted from it by the filmiest of screens, there lie potential forms of consciousness entirely different. We may go through life without suspecting their existence; but apply the requisite stimulus, and at a touch they are there in all their completeness, definite types of mentality which probably somewhere have their field of application and adaptation. No account of the universe in its totality can be final which leaves these other forms of consciousness quite disregarded. How to regard them is the question.’
James’s ‘other forms of consciousness’ would now be called ‘altered states of consciousness’ or ASCs – a concept that seems simple but is notoriously difficult to define. I get drunk and so feel and act differently; I recover from depression and wonder how life could ever have felt so unliveable; I feel like a calmer person on the meditation mat. In all these cases, something has obviously changed, but what? As soon as we start to think more deeply about altered states of consciousness, the problems begin.
You can define ASCs;
In everyday life, we discriminate ‘real’ from ‘imagined’ all the time without noticing the skill involved. That is, we distinguish our own thoughts from what we assume to be a public reality independent of those thoughts – a skill called reality monitoring or reality discrimination. Experiments in which people are asked to see or hear some stimuli, and to imagine others, show that many different features can be used for the purpose of discrimination, including how stable, detailed, or vivid the experiences are, and whether they can be voluntarily controlled. One study presented participants with either complete or incomplete well-known word pairs and tested how well they remembered which words were actually presented and which needed completing imaginatively: visual presentation resulted in better reality monitoring than auditory presentation, and speaking the words out loud worked better than internally verbalising (‘thinking’ about) them.
Distinguishing memories of events that really happened from events we have only imagined is particularly difficult, and its failure results in false memories – that is, convincing ‘memories’ of events that never actually happened. These can be created when we tell the same story many times, with slight variations, and then remember the last version we told. The latest version retroactively interferes with the original memory. False memories can also be created when a family story keeps being told or a photograph from childhood convinces you that you can remember that day on the beach. And they can have lasting effects on behaviour.
It is super important to make the distinction between real and imagined. False memories are most problematic when people ‘remember’ sexual abuse that never happened or identify suspects they never saw. There have been tragic cases in which therapists allegedly recovered repressed memories of sexual abuse under hypnosis and convinced their patients that the events really happened when they did not.
Real memories tend to be more detailed and more easily brought to mind than false memories. Sometimes real memories can be identified because we can put them in context with other events or remember when and how they happened – a skill called source monitoring. This is not important for learning skills and facts. For example, you may reliably and correctly remember the speed of light, the capital of Germany, and the name of the man next door, without needing to remember when or where you learned them, but for autobiographical memory the context is important. If the memory of an event in your life is detailed and plausible, and fits with other events in time and place, then you are more likely
.....read moreHave you ever had that you were dreaming and you realised you were? And then a lady passes by in your dream and you really don’t like her dog, and when you blink, the dog changes? No? Just me then?
This is an example of a lucid dream: a dream in which you know during the dream that you are dreaming. This ability to ‘wake up’ inside a dream while staying asleep prompts all sorts of interesting questions about sleep, dreams, and ‘altered states’ of consciousness. What does it mean to say that I ‘wake up’ or ‘become conscious’ in a lucid dream? Aren’t you conscious in ordinary dreams? What are dreams anyway? Are they experiences or only stories constructed on waking up?
When we sleep, we all go through a cycle of three states: waking, REM (rapid eye movement) sleep, and non-REM sleep, a typical night’s sleep consisting of four or five cycles between non-REM and REM sleep. These waking and sleep states are defined by physiological and behavioural measures, including how easily the person can be awakened, their eye movements and muscle tone (the degree of passive contraction in the muscle fibres), and their brain activity as measured by either EEG or scans. In REM sleep, the brain is highly active and the EEG resembles that of waking, although paradoxically, the sleeper is harder to wake up than during non-REM sleep. Even in non-REM sleep, the overall firing rate of neurons is as high as in waking states, but the pattern is quite different, with the EEG dominated by long, slow waves rather than complex, fast ones.
The neural systems and physiology of sleep has been well studies and generally considered to be well understood. During sleep, parts of the brain are isolated in different ways and to different extents. Blocking of sensory input happens at the thalamocortical level in nonREM sleep and at the periphery in REM sleep. In REM sleep, the brain stem blocks motor commands at the level of spinal motor neurons so that whatever is going on in motor cortex does not result in physical activity. This means you can dream of climbing out of the window onto the roof, but your legs won’t let you do it – although these protective mechanisms can break down briefly in sleepwalking, and are overactive in sleep paralysis.
.....read moreWho is reading this book? Who is conscious of the writing on the page, the attempt to understand and answer the question, or the sounds of revelry in the next room? Questions about the nature of consciousness are intimately bound up with those about the nature of self because it seems as though there must be someone having the experience: that there cannot be experiences without an experiencer. Our experiencing self seems to be at the centre of everything we are aware of at a given time, and to be continuous from one moment to the next. In other words, it seems to have both unity and continuity.
In everyday language, we talk constantly about our ‘self’. It seems that we not only think of this self as a single thing but give it all sorts of attributes and capabilities. In ordinary usage, the self is the subject of our experiences, who carries out actions and makes decisions, a unique personality, and the source of desires, opinions, hopes, and fears. This self is ‘me’; it is the reason why anything matters in ‘my’ life. But where or what is this ‘me’? Are you ready to question everything you know boys and girls?
One way of escaping the problem might be to declare that I am my whole body, and there is no need for a self as well. This would be fine, except that most people don’t feel that way. We feel like something more than just the body.
That this apparently natural way of thinking about ourselves is problematic has been recognised for millennia. In the sixth century BC, the Buddha challenged contemporary thinking with his doctrine of anatta. This is often, perhaps inaccurately, translated as ‘no-self’, when really he was rejecting the common idea that we consist of a separate and continuous entity. Instead, he claimed that the self is just a name or label given to a collection of parts, in the way that we give the name ‘carriage’ to a set of parts – a suggestion that seems as hard to understand and accept today as it was then.
The central question is why it seems as though I am a single, continuous self who has conscious experiences. Possible answers can be divided into two major types. The first, ego theories, claims that it is true: there really is some kind of continuous self that is the subject of my experiences, that makes my decisions, and so on. The second, bundle theories, accepts that it seems this way but claims that really there is no underlying continuous and unitary self. The illusion that there is
.....read moreWhat do you discover when you look into your own mind? William James was confident: ‘Everyone agrees that we there discover states of consciousness’, he said. But a hundred or so years later we might be inclined to raise a few awkward questions.
What does ‘looking’ mean? Who is looking into what? Does the looking itself change what is seen? Is there value in looking without reporting? Does reporting destroy what we are trying to describe? Can everything be reported when some experiences are supposed to be ineffable? How reliable are our judgements about our states of consciousness? Are states of consciousness even the kind of thing that reliable judgements can be made about? Do these questions ever end? God I hope so.
The study of consciousness is sometimes divided into two fundamentally different approaches: the objective third-person approach and the subjective first-person approach. Between these two there is sometimes added another: the second-person, or inter-subjective, approach. This approach is concerned with, but limited to, the development of empathy between people, the roles of mirror neurons, imitation, and joint attention in the relations between two people, and theories of intersubjectivity and how self is constructed through relationships with others and it will not be necessary for you to know this in order to understand the chapter.
Going back to the first two, there are two ways to discuss them; One concerns first-person versus third-person science; the other concerns first-person versus third-person methods.
There are at least three problems with the notion of a first-person science.
All these are arguments against a first-person science of consciousness, but none of them necessarily rules out a role for subjectivity, experiential work, or first-person methods in third-person science. There,
.....read moreIntroduction
Siddharta Gautama, after 7 days of fasting under a pipal tree, became enlightened, he “woke up”. His message for the world was not to look in others, like himself, for truth, but to see it within oneself. He said “work out your own salvation with diligence”. This was where the Buddhism, as we know it, really came to life. Siddharta, later known as Buddha, proposed four truths:
Despite warning of tradition, Buddhism became a religion, first Theravada Buddhism in southern India, Ceylon and Burma, then Tibetan Buddhism in Tibet, Chan Buddhism in China, Zen Buddhism in Japan, and now Western Buddhism… in the west, obviously.
So, this final chapter of the book discusses the following: Can we change our consciousness? Buddhism is one discipline in which spiritual and scientific learning are among the most interweaved. Buddhism also finds a place in psychology more than any other religion. Since 1987, Dalai Lama has been engaging with western scientists, in 2005 held a speech at the biggest annual neuroscience congress.
So why do we like Buddhism so much? Maybe because there is no god or otherwise supreme creator, no indestructible human soul (only, Buddha is a bit like Jesus but less from outer space and more an idol that people strife to be like) and absolutely no duality! Also, Buddhism is almost empirical: If you do X, you will experience Y. Straightforward instructions, based on practice and experience.
Also, Buddha said: Everything is relative and interdependent, arising out of what came before, and giving rise to something new. This is like the scientific principle of cause-and-effect and that’s also applied to consciousness. What it comes down to is that there’s no consciousness without matter, sensations, perceptions, and actions that condition it.
Buddhism focuses on methods, not doctrines. It has none, and in addition thus
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