... on the nature of Consciousness
There is obviously no hope of thinking or acting rationally about any of the major issues of life until we learn to understand the instrument we use to think about them.
Aldous Huxley, Letters (443)Ed. Grover Smith 1969
Consciousness is a fascinating but elusive phenomenon; it is impossible to specify what it is, what it does, or why it evolved. Nothing worth reading has been written about it.
Stuart Sutherland, The International Dictionary of Psychology
On the subject of consciousness Nobel Laureate Francis Crick offers an “Astonishing Hypothesis” in his book of the same name. The hypothesis postulates that human joys and sorrows, memories and ambitions, sense of personal identity and free will are nothing more than the behaviour of a vast assembly of nerve cells and their associated molecules. “This hypothesis is so alien to the ideas of most people alive today that it can truly be called astonishing.” 1 The idea that thoughts and memories and daily percepts are due to chemical activity in the neuron or nerve cell is not new. A number of neuro-scientists prefer to think of brain activity in this way while a number of contemporary cognitive scientists tend to think of the brain as a data processing system. There is, nevertheless, little doubt that the activity in the brain is a direct consequence of chemical and electrical activity in the billions of neurons of which it is comprised. Popper and Eccles refer to “…the ten thousand million neurons of our cerebral cortex, some of them (the cortical pyramidal cells) with an estimated ten thousand synaptic links.” 5 No amount of knowledge in this direction, however, has been able to explain why consciousness is the way it is.
Primary amongst the alternative definitions for consciousness is the proposal that the conscious is that part of the human mind that is aware of the person’s self, environment and mental activity and that, to a certain extent, determines choice of action. Such a definition proves to be a very broad brush to identify what has been considered, until now, to be the mystery of human kind. The conscious, or consciousness, has a great many facets and while neurologists would not baulk at the task of investigating memory or perception the study of consciousness represents an entirely different ball game. For while consciousness is a common human attribute it is also intensely personal to an individual. It is an interior matter and therefore wholly subjective and, at the same time, a qualitative rather than a quantitative phenomenon. There is a difficulty therefore in determining how such a phenomenon can be made accessible to investigative techniques.
For an individual the path towards an understanding of consciousness must involve self appraisal of mind, a necessarily subjective technique because there is no way at present in which a direct investigation can be made on conscious activity in the mind of another person. Such a technique will be inevitably open to question, not least from the point of view of error avoidance when an entity seeks to investigate itself and because of the difficulty in verification. It is an accepted premise that any objective scientific investigation can only arrive at a truth that is relative. In other words no scientific proof is absolute and a relative proof, which by definition is dependant on something, which itself may not have been proved, is no proof at all. Huxley endorses this view; “Our existing scientific theories may not be true - in fact they are quite certainly not true, not in any absolute sense. They are merely relative, temporary and human.” 2 David Bohm believed that this situation attends all science and extends to rational thought also. What holds good for objective investigation must also be applicable to subjective investigation, perhaps more so. Therefore while we cannot be absolutely sure that our self-appraisal will be correct in all aspects we can at least arrive at a set of propositions about which we are comfortable. And we must be sure that being comfortable does not mean acceptance of propositions which are clearly untrue or questionable or which give rise to paradox.
Mind is considered to be a dynamic entity, a function of a kilogram or so of greyish-white tissue enclosed in the skull. It is defined simplistically as the attribute of an individual which is responsible for thought, feelings and speech. Anatomists know a great deal about the brain in terms of its structure, indeed the function of parts of the brain can be clearly defined by neuro-scientists in terms of nerve conduction, action potentials and activity centres and so on. But the mind is not the brain, it is the activity of the brain, and it is the activity of the cerebrum, in particular the cerebral cortex, which is of greatest interest because it is to this area that the functions of perception, thinking, self-awareness, communication, creativity etc. are attributed.
Knowing has previously been considered as being the key to understanding so it is not unreasonable to begin an investigation into the function of mind by looking more closely at what it is to know.
The brain has three principle modes of stimulation or sources of information to which it responds. The first is sensory and this corresponds to input, not just from the five external senses of sight, sound, smell, taste and touch, but from the myriad nerve fibres that carry signals to and from each part of the remarkable organism that is the human body. The second mode is symbolic and this corresponds to language recognition and speech and the interpretation of symbols or images generated by mind itself. The third mode is intuitive or contemplative and this corresponds to non-symbolic, spiritual sources or forms of stimulation. These three modes correspond approximately to Aristotle’s “three soul things that control action and the attainment of truth, viz. sensation, intellect and appetition.” 3 The term appetition is not one in familiar usage and has a wide range of definitions from different sources. The OED defines it as craving, Plutarch considers it analogous to instinct and Kant believes in some circumstances it is equivalent to will. For the purposes of this argument the term appetition may perhaps be supplanted by volition which implies deliberate choice. An even closer analogy to the three modes of brain stimulation could be taken as body, mind and spirit and these are hierarchic in the sense that spirit transcends mind and mind transcends body. The stimulation modes can also be considered to be hierarchic. Intuitive thought, the nous of Aristotle - a state of mind which apprehends first principles, will transcend symbolic thought, the phronesis of Aristotle - practical wisdom based on interpretation, will transcend sensory ‘thought’, the techne of Aristotle - a reasoned state capable of action. So modern understanding of the basic operational modes of the mind is not so far different from those arrrived at by the deductions of at least one ancient philosopher. Aristotle went on to define nine faculties of mind although he made the assumption that only five of these could be used to arrive at truth by affirmation or denial.
There is clearly interaction between the modes of knowing and it is possible to identify a link between sensory and symbolic modes and between symbolic and intuitive modes. The former provides an empiric mode, or knowing based on experience, whilst the latter provides a antinomic mode, or knowing based on intuitive thought or on mind’s attempts to unravel the mystery of spirit. The latter mode is sometimes known as the paradoxical on the basis that spiritual or religious truths are frequently based upon paradox. However, there is a fine semantic line to be drawn between the meanings given to antinomy and paradox. I tend to prefer the former because paradox is frequently equated with absurdity and there is a substantial body of evidence to show that intuitive thought is generally far from absurd. ( The nature of intuition is dealt with as a separate issue in another essay. ) Whilst antinomy and paradox share the essence of contradiction it is said that the opposing statements in an antinomy may be proved or supported by intellectual arguments. This seems an important consideration, indeed an advantage, when the antinomic mode is used in support of metaphysical matters. Thus we arrive at five modes of knowing by means of which mind acquires information and these may be displayed hierarchically as shown below:
1 Spiritual / Intuitive - direct, non-mediated, non-symbolic knowing.
2 Antinomic - discursively interpreted intuitive knowing.
3 Symbolic - knowing based on interpretation of symbols or images.
4 Empiric - knowing based on interpretation of sense data.
5 Sensory - knowing based on sense perception.
Of the above modes the last three present least difficulty in arriving at a plausible explanation of their operation. Largely, of course, due to the efforts of anatomists, physiologists and neuro-scientists who have studied the brain and the nervous system extensively over many years. As a result of their efforts there is currently a substantial body of information about the brain and the functioning of the nervous system but even at these lower levels there are still functions of the brain about which speculation remains prime. Memory is a good example. Whilst there is general agreement on the sub-division and low order functions of memory little is known about how information is selected for storage, and for images that are so selected, how the storage process is implemented. In their treatise on anatomy and physiology Gregoire and Gallagher suggest life-long changes in brain tissue: “There are indications that protein synthesis takes place via RNA activity. The proteins formed could be called memory-molecules. It is not known how such memory molecules are organised. Sometimes the term engram or memory trace is used. This, however, does not make the images of possible memory units any clearer.” 4 Crick thinks that there may be a molecular basis for memory linked to a reaction to the entry of calcium ions into a neuron. These would institute chemical changes in the neuron so as to increase the strength of the synapse, that part of the neuron which links to other neurons in a group. Pribram suggests that memory is organised in a frequency domain but engagingly admits that he does not really understand it. Pribram’s theory is dealt with at greater length in the essay on intuition. The neuro-scientist John Eccles suggests that within the cortex there must be a form of “reverberating circuit activity” in which a form of feedback of the original stimulus causes the synaptic changes required for memory development. “Synaptic activity lasting for perhaps an hour is required for the synaptic growth of long term memory (experiments show 30 minutes to 3 hours may be required).” 5 Karl Popper makes the point that we have a large pool of implicit memory in the form of inherited knowledge, most of which is unconscious, and which appears to be incorporated in our genes. He suggests that without this it would not be possible for us to acquire new knowledge. “I should be intuitively inclined to say that the huge amount of information which any of us can acquire in a lifetime through our senses is small compared with the amount of this inherited background of potentialities.” 5 By whatever mechanism it is achieved it appears that the synaptic change referred to above provides the link between brain cells that establishes what we call memory. A new-born infant will have very few synaptic links but these will develop at a remarkable rate as the infant encounters new experiences. The current thinking seems to be that it is experience, in all its forms, which stimulates the growth of synaptic links and therefore the development of mind.
We are reasonably certain that memory is subdivided into at least three sections, the ultra short term (USTM), the short term (STM) and the long term (LTM).
In consideration of mode 5, the sensory mode of knowledge acquisition, it is clear that our brains are being bombarded continuously with a huge amount of sensory information which arises both internally and externally to the body. If all this were to be allowed access to the brain’s interpretative centres then it would quickly become overloaded and unable to function effectively. A substantial sensory input is received from the vegetative, or autonomic, nervous system which regulates, independently of will the circulatory, alimentary, urinary and respiratory systems and the skin (the largest organ in the body). Autonomic sensory input therefore does not require interpretation and although it serves to control the function of its associated systems when the individual is awake or asleep some of its functions may be modified by signals developed in other modes of brain activity.
In consideration of mode 4, the empiric mode, sensory information arising elsewhere in the body, the so-called somatosensory signals require interpretation and are thus admitted to the USTM. Bodily sensations such as pressure, touch, pain, temperature and motion are included in this group. It is believed that the action potentials build up a memory image which lasts for a few seconds only, long enough in most cases to allow the brain to initiate an appropriate reflex or motor response. It is not clear whether the USTM plays a part in autonomic function although it is believed that the USTM has a vital role in filtering out much of the sensory input thereby preventing it from reaching the secondary sensory cortex or interpretative centre.
Transition to the STM is the first stage filter where storage of an ‘image’ is believed to take place in the form, possibly, of Eccles’ “reverberating circuit activity” arising as a result of the action potentials in the sensory input. The duration of the ‘image’ is thought to be about thirty minutes. Mode 3 functions involving interpretation of symbolic or image based data require the use of short term memory since all the information necessary for an effective interpretation cannot, in many cases, be made available instantaneously. e.g. reading requires a logical sequence of symbolic input for it to make any sense and that takes time. The second stage filter is encountered within mode 3 where it is likely that a decision will be made, for example in a learning situation, as to the importance of the interpretation and whether it should be committed to LTM. It is believed that images created under conditions of repugnance or fear or other strong emotional influence may be committed automatically to LTM which some neuroscientists hold may be further subdivided into units devoted to a particular type of memory such as events, categories and so on. Alternatively, it has been suggested that committal of a stimulus to memory is often the result of purposeful conscious activity. In whatever circumstance, once there it is believed that the memory will be retained for life. (The fact that memory recall becomes less effective as an individual ages is considered, by some authorities, to be a fault in the recovery mechanism rather than a fading of the memory image.)
The foregoing paragraphs represent a greatly simplified overview of the workings of the brain, in so far as sensory stimulation is concerned, coupled with a more speculative assessment of knowledge acquisition modes. One factor which is open to verification by all of us is the vast array of memory images available for recall. We can’t be sure at what point in our lives that storage of coherent images began. Many adults can recall memories of early childhood with great clarity but there is reason to believe that images which are recognisable and accessible to reason can only be recalled when they are stored within the framework of language. Thus memories from infancy, before the acquisition of language skills, are likely to be formless and nondescript.
A salient attribute available to the human species is the ability to take memory images and re-order them or manipulate them in various ways and from such manipulation create and store new or modified images. This is the attribute of thinking. The act of thinking is not, however, restricted to dealing solely with memory images which for the most part record past events. It is frequently used in the prediction of future events . Richard Dawkins, who speculates that the human body has evolved over many millennia as a gene survival machine offers a compelling picture: “When you have a difficult decision to make involving unknown quantities in the future you go in for a form of simulation.....just as in the computer, the details of how your brain represents its model of the world are less important than the fact that it is able to use it to predict possible events. Survival machines which can simulate the future are one jump ahead of survival machines which can only learn on the basis of overt trial and error. The trouble with overt trial is that it can take time and energy. The trouble with overt error is that it is sometimes fatal. Simulation is both safer and faster.” 6
Richard Dawkins is a Darwinian who puts over his ideas with great clarity and who has the gift of engendering intellectual excitement and concurrence in his readers. Most of the time ! The problem is that his view reduces the human body to a form of mechanistic life support system for human genes which have gained virtual immortality as a result. His “River out of Eden” is an excellent read and a well argued synopsis on gene survival but it does seem to discount any possibility of other factors having a part to play in the human ability to think. Dawkins clearly has little time for what has been termed ‘fuzzy’ science where professional scientists from many disciplines are looking beyond the limitations of their specialities towards a juxtaposition or combination of sciences to liberate what might be termed a holistic view. This returns again to the nous of Aristotle - a referral to first principles which is the province of metaphysics. In the case of consciousness the introduction of metaphysics is particularly apt because metaphysics deals primarily with being and knowing. But it does not do so in an uncontested way and there are many detractors and many problems engendered by the approach of New Age science. Take for example a growing seed which continually provides inanimate matter in the environment with new information that leads it to produce a living plant ( or animal ):
“Who is to say then that life was not immanent before the seed was planted ? In the same way it is held that that the more complex an animal the greater is its display of intelligence, but the intelligence must also be immanent in the matter that constitutes the animal. If the immanence is pursued more and more deeply in matter I believe that we may reach the stream (of development) which we also experience as mind, so that mind and matter fuse.”
In answer to the question “Would this (wholeness) link higher, self reflective organisms such as ourselves with such things as a leaf, a rock, a tree ?
“Yes, with the entire material universe. To my mind this would produce a much better civilization than that which emphasises a graded hierarchy of conscious life, in which that which is ‘above’ has the greater degree of reality. If we say that all matter is, in some way, holy, then we rid ourselves of the special sacredness which we have imputed to certain things, such as the temple or the church.” 7
These views are held and put forward by people who have an enviable intellectual pedigree. Whilst the concept of a universal consciousness is not by any means new it is unproven. There is some gain in credibility, however, when it is presented in such a way, in a technological age and by reputable scientists.
Dennet says that our concept of consciousness can be separated into two sets of considerations that can be identified by two phrases “from the inside” and “from the outside”. Bohms view, above, is clearly “from the outside” and , with regard to the other, Dennet says: “From the inside, our own consciousness seems obvious and pervasive: we know that much goes on around us and even inside our own bodies of which we are entirely unaware or unconscious, but nothing could be more intimately known to us than those things of which we are, individually, conscious. Those things of which I am conscious, and the ways in which I am conscious of them, determine what it is like to be me. I know in a way no other could know what it is like to be me. From the inside, consciousness seems to be an all-or-nothing phenomenon - an inner light that is either on or off. We grant that we are sometimes drowsy or inattentive, or asleep, and on occasion we even enjoy abnormally heightened consciousness, but when we are conscious, that we are conscious is not a fact that admits of degrees.” 8
Mental images stored in the brain of any individual, by whatever hypothesis, are, of course, conditioned by many factors that have a bearing on the life of that individual, not least by internal nutritional, chemical and biological factors. Indeed some sensory information arriving at the brain from various parts of the body will continuously consolidate and update the mental image of the body. The combination of external and internal images undoubtedly makes a significant contribution to an individual’s sense of self. Taken in conjunction with the ability to manipulate images this must surely be the foundation of consciousness that Antonio Damasio describes as ‘an elaborate rite of passage into everything that makes us human.’
So where have we come to ? The brain is a kilogram or so of soft tissue enclosed in the skull, a mass of nerve fibres and billions of cells arranged in tortuous convolutions and divided into lobes, cortex’s, ventricles and fissures all of which are clearly described in any anatomy textbook. We know quite a lot about the brain. The mind is not the brain, it is a function of the brain, or several functions. The cognitive scientist Steven Pinker describes mind as comprising several virtual organs (my italics), each of which has a highly specialised function and each of which engages in sophisticated interaction with the others. Processing sensory data, interpretation of symbolic input and image storage and manipulation represent only a small part of mind’s activity. But these activities are complex in the extreme as indeed are the others. Unlike the central processor in a computer which deals with information and instructions serially, one bit or one instruction at a time, the mind processes information in a parallel way each “organ” working concurrently, processing input, calculating outcome, communicating with each other and co-ordinating responses simultaneously. We really don’t know with any accuracy how it is done. Even a relatively simple task such as answering a telephone almost defies description when considered in terms of the detailed activity of the mind. We are pretty sure that the motor activity is initiated within the cerebrum and that the cerebellum co-ordinates the action once the movement has started. It is when the components of the action are considered that the complexities involved become more apparent. First there is the auditory stimulus as the telephone rings. The mind has to separate this from other auditory input which may be occurring at the same time, determine whether the telephone’s ring is part of the television or radio broadcast or whether it emanates from elsewhere. So there is the task of locating the sound spatially followed instantly by initiation of movement towards the telephone receiver. (We have to remember where it is and use the memory recall to guide our footsteps.) Walking bipedally involves co-ordination of leg and foot structures, constantly shifting the body’s centre of gravity, whilst organs in the inner ear prevent falling by providing feedback to make the appropriate corrections. This at every step and between steps. Walking activities are simple, however, by comparison with what happens when the telephone is reached. The arm is extended using sight as feedback to co-ordinate the movement. The movement of the arm itself will involve six definable forms of movement in varying degree, anteflexion, retroflexion, exorotation, endorotation, pronation and supination as the arm is extended towards the telephone and returned towards the body. The action of grasping the telephone with the hand is a mini-miracle in itself, the many muscle groups of the hand being controlled to give just the right tightness of grip to retain hold of the instrument, with tactile information from the fingertips providing the feedback. And all this happens under conscious control but transparently, without explicit thought processes. One does not reach the telephone and think “Now I must extend my arm”. The ears, the feet, the arm, eyes and fingertips are all responding to the drive from the mind and sending sensory signals back continuously to the brain which are then processed by the mind to ensure smooth and co-ordinated actions. But just as this happens under conscious control so too one may take a conscious decision not to respond to the telephone’s strident call. It happens all the time ! So the conscious is acting in an executive capacity by taking a decision as to how the mind, and the body, will behave in a specific situation.
In the foregoing example the conscious has access to, and responds appropriately to, information that has been processed by mind. It is essentially a functional form of consciousness. In connection with walking and balance we know that part of the equilibratory stimuli from the semi-circular canals pass to nuclei in the brain stem and part pass directly to the cerebellum. These parts of the brain send signals to muscles that control the orientation and weight distribution of the body. The reaction of these muscles is automatic, learned by experience, and effectively instantaneous otherwise we would fall over. Conscious decisions are not required to maintain balance whilst walking and, except in extreme situations, it is unlikely that the conscious is aware of any imbalance or of the complex signal processing going on during this action. In this example the semi-circular canals and their associated systems behave in many ways like other parts of the autonomic nervous system even though the canals themselves are not classed as sensory organs. Indeed the process of maintaining balance has been derived empirically from infanthood and forms part of the body’s system of learned responses. Other aspects of the autonomic nervous system, for example control of body temperature, respiration, heart rate, liver function and skin resistance, are not normally accessible to the conscious except under certain conditions. There is a considerable body of evidence which shows that using a technique of bio-feedback it is possible to change skin resistance and heart-rate. Even simpler is the ability to override the normal respiratory control mechanism and influence the breathing rate, and therefore blood chemistry, by Yogic breathing or hyperventilation. Most of the time, however, we believe the conscious to be selectively unresponsive to the vast amount of mental activity going on continuously to maintain the status of the body.
Mind processed somato-sensory information is also conscious accessible. For example we are aware of what we see without being fully aware of how the electromagnetic radiations from objects within our field of vision are processed to represent shape and colour. (There is more on the subject of vision in the essay on Reality.) Similarly our tactile sense can differentiate between objects that are large or small, smooth or rough, wet or dry, although we can only speculate on how the mind manipulates its memory images comparatively in order to arrive at a decision on texture. In the same way we can sense pressure, for example we can sense when the bladder is full and under most circumstances, fortunately, can control its emptying.
The amount of information produced by any one of these sources is huge, enough in most cases to occupy the whole of one’s conscious activity. So while the mind is aware, say, of all the input derived from the field of vision, the conscious can choose to accept the whole, as a kind of background, or to select part of the input for detailed consideration. Watching TV is a good example. One is aware of the room in which the action is taking place and we find that the surroundings do not fade away simply because one’s concentration is directed to the small screen. The mind continues to survey the surroundings and the evidence for this, the sudden movement ‘detected in the corner of the eye’, is often enough to break the concentration of the viewer. Most people will be able to confirm this sort of experience. Similarly the sense of taste provides a rounded, or smoothed, version of the sensory input from the nose and from the mouth. When eating a curry, for example, we do not normally taste the individual components of the curry sauce. We are conscious of the blend although, with experience and greater concentration, we would be able to detect changes in the proportions of individual components. Individuals involved in taste testing of food and drink have developed this discriminatory ability to a considerable degree. It is a question of conscious control and in these examples the conscious is again taking charge and being selective in what it chooses to bring to full awareness. It is what Robert Ornstein calls “...an exquisite undertaking, and it is done through a vast network of filters, sensors, and censors, all working with microsecond timing. The immediate selection process sorts out survival-related stimuli, from which we are able to, somehow miraculously, construct a stable representation of the world.” 9
The amalgamation of sensory activity of the mind/brain with motor activity of the body gives rise to some fairly spectacular human attributes. But they are not outstanding by comparison with other warm-blooded animals in the wild. Indeed there are many examples in the animal kingdom in which sensory perception and motor response is far keener and far faster than ours. The thing which sets the human race apart and which is arguably its most spectacular attribute is its command of language. The development of language has to begin with vocalisation and, in this, chimpanzees and humans have a common ability to produce between thirty and forty different sounds that are called phonemes. Studies of chimpanzees in the wild have revealed that each of the individual sounds and its inflection conveys a particular meaning to other chimpanzees. And in the chimp world the sounds are uttered individually so, although a particular sound may be repeated many times - as in an alarm call, there is no evidence that combinations of sounds are used. In the case of the human race the early hominids, at sometime in the distant past, dropped the regular use of the single phoneme and began to combine phonemes to provide greater depth and subtlety to their vocalisations. There is, as yet, no plausible explanation of how early man made the transition from single vocalisation to sequences of combined sounds but there is no doubt as to the effectiveness of the method as a means of communication. A relatively limited number of phonemes can be combined to give many thousands of words, each having a precise meaning, and these in turn can be used in combination to provide an infinite variety of word structures, or sentences, to express ideas on virtually anything. There is nothing remotely like this anywhere else in the animal kingdom (or if there is it has yet to be discovered).
Central to the development of language is syntax. Combinations of words can have little meaning unless they are arranged according to rules of grammar. “We have a syntactic language capable of supporting metaphor and analogical reasoning. We’re always planning ahead, imagining scenarios for the future, and then choosing in ways that take remote contingencies into account.....There is no doubt that syntax is what human levels of intelligence are mostly about - that without syntax we would be little cleverer than chimpanzees.” 10
Syntax is not necessary for the communication of simple ideas of course. To this extent many members of the animal kingdom may be said to have a language of sorts if one member of a group can convey meaning by producing a sound or making a gesture. But observing children who are brought up bi-lingually can yield some interesting findings. A number of central European languages use syntactical rules which are different to those used in English. Notable amongst these is the position of the verb which in German, for example, often appears at the end of a sentence whilst in English it is somewhere in the middle sandwiched between the subject and the object. My grandchildren who have been brought up in a German speaking Swiss Canton are fluent in both Swiss German and English. Even from a very young age they could converse in unaccented English that was grammatically perfect except that they would frequently place the verb at the end of a sentence. Whilst they were too young to comprehend the difference between the components of a sentence they clearly knew the meaning of the idea that they wanted to convey. It is perhaps not too surprising that, when using their own language, they often place the verb at the end of sentences because it is recognised that children tend to learn some grammatical rules by listening to adults and others talking. They appear to possess a mental means, a kind of universal grammar common to all languages, which enables them to extract the syntactical rules from the speech of their parents and other adults. But when they are speaking in another language how do they know which sentence component is the verb ? One can only assume that this is perhaps an example of the instinctive element to language that aids word selection. Linguists such as Noam Chomsky believe that language abilities are genetically mediated - in another’s metaphor, we are hard wired for language in the same way as we are hard wired for walking upright. This is not a universally accepted theory. Professor Philip Liebermann says that the fact a child learns to speak is no more proof of a language instinct than that every child can learn to ride a bicycle is evidence of a bicycle-riding instinct.
Despite the controversy around genetic involvement in language, it is nevertheless a powerful tool used to express one’s own subjective mental models to others. This is often done in a disjointed way, breaking syntactical rules, because when ideas are being exchanged on a face to face basis, facial expressions and gestures (body language) are able to convey meanings without the need for words. The recipient of the message has to interpret the sounds and gestures into his own mental model often choosing words from his own memory banks to fill omissions from the speaker’s output. The miracle is not so much that the mental models match but that they do so at light speed in most cases.
A facet of language that seems so obvious that it hardly needs stating is that it is, in most circumstances, a non-routine activity. This is particularly the case when one considers written language where the writer attempts to record facts or ideas in a meaningful and understandable way. Although the words used are likely to have been used many times before their arrangement into a sensible and original format represents an outstanding achievement of consciousness.
There appears to be no doubt that the ability to manipulate language effectively is a mark of intelligence and that language, both spoken and written, together with consciousness at the level most humans experience, may be mutually requisite. Language would not exist unless there was a conscious need to express or exchange ideas. Similarly, the broad sweep of consciousness enjoyed by most humans could not be sustained without the use of language to express ideas derived from simulation, imagination, current and forward planning and the like. Many, if not most, of our waking thoughts are language based. Take away language and our consciousness would be limited to the here and now and a series of conditioned responses. As language is learned and evolves in an individual so too does consciousness evolve with it as its corollary. And since consciousness evolves as the corollary of learning language and that language evolves with the conscious need to express ideas, it seems fairly clear that social behaviour and culture are corollaries also. Language, as a combination of sounds and/or gestures, is a means of communicating conscious intent. Once a language has developed sufficiently for members of a group (in the broadest sense) to understand one another it will then take on a more subtle character and enable objects to take on a representative status which language has taught should mean something to us. The symbolic nature of our British royal regalia is a typical example, the sceptre being a symbol of authority, the orb surmounted by a cross the symbol of Christian domination of the world and, in the hands of the monarch, a symbol of the defender of the faith. Culture, like consciousness, is difficult to define. Karl Popper describes a world of human culture in the broadest sense of the term and it includes all “the products of the human mind, such as stories, explanatory myths, tools, scientific theories (whether true or false), scientific problems, social institutions, and works of art.” Ruskin once said that ‘Great nations write their autobiographies in three manuscripts, the book of their deeds, the book of their words and the book of their art. Of the three the only trustworthy one is the last.’ Substitute ‘Great cultures’ for ‘Great nations’ and I think he has hit the nail squarely on the head. Deeds are more often influenced by the need for personal satisfaction as by altruism, words are often influenced by what the speaker or the writer believe the recipient wants to hear, but great art represents, in most cases, the clearest indication of what is in the mind of the artist. I believe this to be true regardless of the status of the society in which the art was conceived.
In the context of sensory perception and control it is probably as well to remember that the conscious is rarely involved in any such activity in a purely unbiased way. It is inevitable that the result of consciously directed actions will result in feedback, sensory data sent back to the mind for further processing. This in turn can induce feelings of delight, revulsion, anger, fear and so on, generating an emotional aspect to conscious activity. And emotions are puzzling. “Exotic at first glance, upon scrutiny they turn out to be universal; quintessentially irrational, they are tightly interwoven with abstract thought and have a cold logic of their own. They are adaptations, well-engineered software modules that work in harmony with the intellect and are indispensable to the functioning of the whole mind. The problem with emotions is not that they are untamed forces or vestiges of our animal past; it is that they were designed to propagate copies of the genes that built them rather than to promote happiness, wisdom or moral values.” 11
The conscious has access to other information from sources external to the body, discursively through the medium of verbal communication with others, symbolic through the written word or number or through direct imagery, works of art, film or television. These too will give rise to mental images which have an associated emotional factor and which may, in turn, lead to a consciously directed action. Since it can direct thought as well as direct action there must, by definition, be a connection with morality. And morality too presents many problems that are not amenable to easy solutions. Are we responsible for all our actions or are they determined in advance by the circumstances that exist before we carry out the act - in other words do we really have free will ? Is morality founded on a religious code of conduct or is it based on a more personal level of experience? Is a moral act, in the sense of right action, in one set of circumstances equally moral if the circumstances change? Is morality in perhaps its purest manifestation, that of reciprocal altruism, able to compete on equal terms with aggressively selfish motivation especially if individual survival is threatened. These so-called moral questions have been the source of argument for thousands of years but so far there have been no solutions having universal appeal. What seems right in one culture will almost certainly not be right in another. The effect is that these problems serve to heap complexities on a subject that is already complex.
We can be reasonably comfortable about mind’s ability to act in a fashion similar to a multi-processor, the ability of a number of mental virtual organs to carry out a range of concurrent tasks and modify each other’s function by intercommunication and feedback. It is not difficult to identify robust examples of this largely because it is clear that consciousness is a holistic activity. A memory of an experience is not just of the experience itself but of all the other factors about which the conscious was aware though not necessarily attentive to. Using a metaphor from computer science we could perhaps identify these functions as low level conscious activity at a cellular level in the brain.
We can also be reasonably comfortable that consciousness, as opposed to mind activity, is part, perhaps a significant part, of the human survival mechanism by bringing forward those emotions that warn of actual or potential threat to the individual. On this basis it is able to initiate action. In other words it comes clearly into its own when it is engaged in selectively choosing between two or more alternative means to an end, that is, in non-routine activity. Routine activities such as the maintenance of balance, cited above, do not require the active participation of consciousness to achieve an end even though the conscious may be aware of what is going on. It maintains the sense of self by continuously updating the body image with sensory data from within and without the body. Additionally it provides an executive function in allowing us to observe by various means selected parts of the material world outside ourselves to which a response of some kind may be required. It initiates thought, either symbolically or by manipulation of mental images, and by so doing can simulate, or predict, probable future events based on existing knowledge. Furthermore, the purview of the thoughts that can be initiated by the conscious within the bounds of language and number is virtually infinite. The conscious can direct the mind to range throughout the universe without regard to space or time, speculate on matters that have no material basis and, through third party knowledge, have mental images of matters that have not been experienced first hand. Using another metaphor from computer science we might therefore describe consciousness as the high-level version of the conscious activity taking place in the neurons.
Whilst we might be comfortable about these propositions, even though we cannot be sure of their truth, we are no further forward with the central problem. If the conscious is able to initiate and direct thought how does it do it? Is thought simply symbol manipulation and, if so, do different levels of ability in this respect imply different levels of intelligence? And would symbol manipulation in a different language arrive at a different conclusion? In the Astonishing Hypothesis Crick sets out to demolish the dualist notion of the “Ghost in the machine” or an homunculus in the brain which provides interpretations of the incoming sensory data. In the concluding chapter, however, he emphasises that the Astonishing Hypothesis is just that, an hypothesis, even though there is enough knowledge to make it plausible. He confesses that he finds it difficult sometimes to avoid the idea of an homunculus on the basis that it is easy to assume that some aspect of sensory activity does not need an explanation because it is what is done ‘naturally’. The “Ghost in the machine” is traditionally the non-physical aspect of every human that has been equated in the past with the soul. Plato, Aquinas and Descartes, amongst others, held this view while many contemporary philosophers now discount the possibility of the existence of an immaterial soul. If the Astonishing Hypothesis should be proved to be true, even in a relative sense, and all aspects of mind are shown to be due solely to neural activity then traditional religious belief in the West will be thrown into more of a turmoil than it is in at present. It is to be expected that a scientific proof that there is no such entity as a soul will have a more far-reaching effect than Darwin’s “Origin of Species” or Galileo’s “Dialogue on the Great World Systems”
Functional and experiential conscious states exist, whether we like it or not, and they are subjective, intensely personal, internal and qualitative. In the case of functional consciousness it is not too difficult to find examples of how our actions are mediated by conscious decisions and to develop a plausible explanation for the action. Experiential or qualitative issues, however, are more difficult to analyse. In this latter sense some philosophers propose measurements known as qualia as a means of assessing the subjective qualities of conscious experience. The experience of red, the experience of the odour of garlic, the experience of pain or of being in love. These have long been the most difficult of matters to reconcile with materialist solutions to the mind-body problem and are no less difficult to express in terms of qualia. This is principally because of their subjective character and because they are fully comprehensible only to the individual who partakes of the experiences. For this reason experiential consciousness has resisted the reductive materialist position of identifying consciousness with physical neuronal activity. An alternative way of looking at experiential consciousness that takes into account neuronal synaptic linking is based on the evidence that we are so much the product of our own experiences. No two people, even identical twins, are likely to record or recall a shared experience in precisely the same way. And it is this difference in conscious activity, in growth of synaptic links, which so much defines our individuality. It is this very feature which enables us to adapt to our environment, to escape from or to resist the instinctual drive which is dictated by our genes. This feature is underlined by the growing view, of which one example is that given by Nicholas Humphrey 12, that the problem of mind is an illusion based on our inability to understand the evolutionary history of the human species. In other words the problem of consciousness belongs not to the philosophy of mind but to the evolutionary biology of the body. There is a strong argument therefore to avoid the temptation to try and provide an accurate and definitive description of consciousness in all its aspects. It is much easier to accept it for what it is, a natural and non-physical characteristic of our lives. Mountcastle sums up the situation very well: “Each of us lives within the universe – the prison – of his own brain. Projecting from it are millions of fragile sensory nerve fibres, in groups uniquely adapted to sample the energetic states of the world about us: heat, light, force and chemical compositions. That is all we shall ever know about it directly: all else is logical inference.” 13
In the present day a large proportion of our knowledge is derived from the documented mental activity of others and we rarely have the means to validate it. Descartes too, finding difficulty in providing guaranteed and validated foundations for knowledge, chose to retreat from his claim to do so by taking the position that ‘If a conviction is so firm that it is impossible for us ever to have any reason for doubting what we are convinced of, then there are no further questions for us to ask; we have everything we could reasonably want.’ (Second set of replies to Objections to the Meditations.) With this reply Descartes anticipates by one hundred years the view of David Hume, ‘human beings have to rest content with what their nature irresistibly inclines them to believe; there are no absolute guarantees.’ 14 The core principle from his theory of knowledge states ‘Cogito ergo sum’ - ‘I think, therefore I am.’ This is a truth of which we can all be certain but only so long as we continue to think. And thinking, of course, is a natural process and the essence of consciousness. Nicholas Humphrey shows that thoughts formulated symbolically as language cause activity in that part of the cerebral cortex devoted to speech. Just as speech does. "Conscious thoughts are typically 'heard' as images of voices in the head - and without this sensory component they would drop away." 12 Similarly thoughts in the form of visual images - self-generated visual imagery - cause activity in the visual cortex just as though the cortex were dealing with an image arriving from the retina. On this basis Humphrey proposes that thoughts are closely akin to the sensory activities of hearing and sight. In a closely worked, plausible and persuasive argument he states that "to be conscious is essentially to have sensations…most occurring in the province of one of the five senses (sight, sound, touch, smell & taste)…The subject of consciousness, 'I', is an embodied self. In the absence of bodily sensations 'I' would cease. Sentio, ergo sum - I feel, therefore I am."
Nicholas Humphrey would probably not approve of my brevity here but what he appears to me to be saying, quite apart from anything else, is that consciousness is sensational. I would not want to argue against that proposition in whatever context that it was applied.
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2004 Commentary:
Re-reading this essay after it has gathered dust in a drawer for a number of years I am struck by how little substance it imparts to an understanding of consciousness. It may introduce a number of interesting threads on the subject but otherwise it falls neatly into the category defined by Stuart Sutherland at its start. Let me try to be a little more succinct.
A number of ingenious theories have been devised to explain the phenomenon of memory. Further reading on the subject has led me to subscribe to the view that synaptic links seem to be the key. Daniel Dennet, amongst others, has described how we are born with very few synaptic links that may, in all probability, be used to trigger the sort of instinctive infant behaviour designed to improve the chances of survival. As we develop and experience new sights, sounds, smells etc. further synaptic links are added to the total. This procedure gathers momentum and reaches a peak during our teenage years after which the rate of increase in new links begins a slow decline. The average person in their mid-twenties will have acquired many billions of synaptic links which represent the sum total of their experiences, and therefore their memories, to that time. But if our memories can be identified as a particular arrangement, or group, of synaptic links and if our memories, and therefore the activities of thinking, are associated closely with the physical presence of a group of linked cells and nerve fibres then mind becomes a great deal less esoteric than it was once considered to be. Mind is still a function of the brain but it is a tangible function as individual as the experiences giving rise to the synaptic links of which it is comprised.
So where does that leave consciousness? Part of the problem of defining consciousness is the approach that considers it to be an all encompassing phenomenon. When the going gets tough in this respect the horizons get lifted by the introduction of further complications such as an external universal consciousness, or streams of consciousness to which individuals are associated and which, in some way, have a bearing on their behaviour. As a refreshing change to this complex, and somewhat metaphysical, approach Nicolas Humphrey has suggested that consciousness be considered as a simple biological development. He presents a very plausible argument that seems to me to have great merit. It has certainly helped to shape my most recent view of consciousness which I propose might be defined as follows:
Consciousness is a function of mind: it is an awareness of events taking place at this instant, (evaluated against similar events that have been experienced during a past instant), which may act as a trigger to initiate an appropriate action at some future instant.
So it is all very biological and as individual as the mind from which it arises and as the arrangement of synaptic links that form the mind. I am content with that!
Bibliography ... on the nature of Consciousness:
1 The Astonishing Hypothesis: Professor Francis Crick; Simon & Schuster Ltd.,1994
2 Proper Studies: Aldous Huxley (Essays 1927)
3 The Nichomachean Ethics: Aristotle; Penguin Books Ltd, 1976
4 Life Sciences: Gregoire & Gallagher; Campion Press Ltd. 1992
5 The Self and its Brain: An Argument for Interaction. Karl R.Popper & John C.Eccles; Routledge & Kegan Paul 1983 6 Selfish Genes and Selfish Memes: Richard Dawkins; as contained in “The Mind’s I”, an anthology Bantam Books 1982
7 The Physicist and the Mystic - Is a dialogue between them possible ? A conversation between David Bohm, Professor of Theoretical Physics and Renee Weber, Professor of Philosophy. Taken from The Holographic Paradigm and other Paradoxes. Ed:Ken Wilber, Shambhala 1982
8 The Mind’s I (Introduction): Daniel C.Dennet; Bantam Books 1982
9 The Psychology of Consciousness: Robert Ornstein; Penguin Books Ltd (2nd edition) 1986
10 How Brains Think: William H Calvin; Weidenfeld & Nicolson 1997
11 How the Mind Works: Steven Pinker; Allen Lane The Penguin Press 1998
12 A History of the Mind: Nicholas Humphrey; Chatto & Windus 1992
13 The View from Within: Pathways to the study of Perception. Mountcastle V.B. John Hopkins Medical Journal: 136,pp109-131,1975
14 The Oxford Companion to Philosophy: ed: Ted Honderich; Oxford University Press 1995
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