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The Nuts and Bolts ofCONSCIOUSNESS

A Solution to the Problem ofMind and Matter

GIBRAN SHAH

What others are saying about The Nuts and Bolts ofConsciousness.

Both the philosophically minded and those that have anyinterest in the mind�matter relationship will find themselvesfascinated with the theory advanced in this well�conceivedbook.

Cathy Reyes, Lawyer

The most insightful and compelling ideas are generated bythose following a path they are passionate about. The Nutsand Bolts of Consciousness is the result of a relentlesspassion for the search for a solution to the mind andmatter problem.

Darren Hamilton, LawyerPhilosopher, Psychologist,

Computer Scientist

Copyright © 2012 by Shah Publishing Ltd.ISBN 978�0�9877529�0�1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced ortransmitted in any form without permission in writing from theauthor, except by a reviewer who may quote for review purposes.

For more information, or to order additional copies of this book,please write to the publisher at:

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The Nuts and Bolts ofCONSCIOUSNESS

A Solution to the Problem of Mind and Matter

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This work was in large part inspired by the numerous discussionsand debates that took place during the winter, spring, andsummer of 2011 on the I Love Philosophy discussion forum(www.ilovephilosophy.com), and much credit is due to theforum’s members for making this the work that it is. Particularthanks go to Jakob Milikowski, Richard Lancashire, finishedman,Jayson R. Abalos, R. J. Leonard, Moreno, Silhouette, Star Travel,and Remark, some of whom asked me not to reveal their realnames.

In addition, special thanks go to my father, Farouk Shah, for hissupport and encouragement, without which the publication ofthis work would not have been possible.

I would also like to thank Cathy Reyes (lawyer) and DarrenHamilton (lawyer, psychologist, philosopher) for their generousendorsements of this book.

Finally, I would like to thank Denise Hamilton of Ink TreeMarketing Ltd. for not only providing expert marketing advice,but for continuing to do so long after the period for which I paidfor her services had expired.

Acknowledgements

To me it is evident for the reasons you allow of, that sensiblethings cannot exist otherwise than in a mind or spirit. Whence Iconclude, not that they have no real existence, but that seeingthey depend not on my thought, and have an existence distinctfrom being perceived by me, there must be some other mindwherein they exist. As sure, therefore, as the sensible worldreally exists, so sure is there an infinite, omnipresent Spirit whocontains and supports it.

George Berkeley (1685�1753)Three Dialogues Between Hylos and Philonous, 1713

Volume I

THE THEORY

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One: Zombies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .1

Chapter Two:Neuroscience . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .35

Chapter Three:Philosophical Background . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .75

Chapter Four:The Basic Theory of Mind and Matter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .121

Chapter Five:The Advanced Theory of Mind and Matter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .197

Chapter Six:The Paradox of Individuality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .245

Chapter Seven:The Universal Mind . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .289

Chapter Eight:Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .331

Notes

References

About the Author

Chapter One:

ZOMBIES

INTRODUCTION

If you find consciousness as fascinating as I do, you've probablyfound yourself engaging at one time or another in philosophicaldiscussions on the subject. You've probably also found yourselfreading what other people have said about the subject. Perhapsyou've even done both at the same time. If you have, you'veprobably participated in a few online philosophy forums. Since Ishare your enthusiasm for the philosophy of consciousness, Itoo have participated in a few online forums. On one forum inparticular1, you will find a discussion that I started and in which Iargue that David Chalmers was correct in claiming, much to theconsternation of a great many who believe and have arguedotherwise, that neither philosophy nor science has fully illuminatedthe mysteries of consciousness nor shown how it can be explainedin terms of the brain sciences.

Now I must digress. "Who is this David Chalmers?" some readerswill ask. And why hasn't science or philosophy been able toilluminate the mysteries of consciousness? In order to answerthese questions, I must explain the problem—the problem ofmind (or consciousness) and matter (or brain). This topic is verypopular in philosophical circles. It has been particularly popularsince the seventeenth century, when the philosopher RenéDescartes proposed the idea that mind and matter are twouniversal, yet incomparable, substances—in fact, the substancesof which all other things are made. The philosophical conundrumis the puzzle of how each of these substances interacts with, orcreates, the other.

Chapter One: Zombies1

Why should a simple resolution to this conundrum be so elusive?The problem comes down to the very essence of mind and matter,or what we think mind and matter are. They seem to us to be sodistinct in their very mode of being that we are hard pressed tothink of anything they have in common. It therefore seems hardto fathom that one could affect or arise from the other. How doessomething physical, such as the brain, create something thatseems nonphysical, like consciousness? And how are we toconceive of the manner in which they interact? It's easy toimagine interactions between two physical objects: one bumpsanother, and the other moves. And it’s equally simple to imaginemental interactions: one idea sparks another, and memoriesaffect moods. It is much more difficult, however, to imagine howa physical object can interact with thoughts, memories, moods,and other mental entities. These are the questions and issues towhich I refer when I talk about the problem of mind and matter.

To date, no one has presented the world with a resounding andunanimously agreed�upon solution to this problem. Countlesstheories have been put forward and have found small andfactious followings, but none have been so compelling that theworld has said in unison, “Ah! At last, we have the answer!” Ofcourse, this is not to say that the theory I present in this book willbe the first to induce such a response—so don’t hold yourbreath—but I do mean to introduce this theory as a plausiblealternative to the theories that are most widely accepted today. Ibelieve that my theory is unique and holds a special edge aboveall others, and of course, I believe in it wholeheartedly (why elsewould I be writing this book?). But I would like my readers tojudge this for themselves.

Before I dive straight into the nuts and bolts of my theory, let meintroduce my theory’s major competition (which is also competi�tion for David Chalmers’ theory): physicalism. Although I stand bywhat I have just said—that no one theory of consciousness hasgrabbed the attention and garnered the consensus of thescientific and philosophical communities as a whole, physicalismcame very close. It came so close, in fact, that it dominatedscientific and philosophical thought on the topic of consciousnessfor the greater part of the twentieth century; and although smallpockets of dissent could be heard here and there (such as thatvoiced by Chalmer, Nagel, and Jackson), most remained silent.

The Nuts and Bolts of CONSCIOUSNESS


Physicalism’s grip on today’s philosophical and scientific thoughtis much less dominant than it was mid�twentieth�century, but Iwould hesitate to say that it has fallen out of favor. I would say thatmost thinkers in these disciplines are still hardnosed physicalists.The good news—at least, for us nonphysicalists—is thatnonphysicalism is gaining ground, and alternatives to physicalismare become more and more acceptable.

At this point, the reader will naturally ask, “What is physicalism?”In its broadest scope, physicalism states that everything real isultimately physical and that all things can, in the end, beexplained in physical terms. Physicalism is not necessarily elimina�tivist, that is, it does not necessarily hold that things that can onlybe captured through abstract concepts are not real; but it doesdemand that such abstractions be tied to the physical if they areto make any claim to existence. So, for example, physicalism doesnot deny the existence of something as abstract as government,but it does insist that in the end, government must turn out to benothing over and above the collection of all of its physicalconstituents—things like politicians, documents, buildings,computers, and perhaps even information, as long as the lattercan be defined in physical terms, perhaps as electrical signals andthe sound waves of spoken language.

With respect to consciousness, physicalism admits no exceptionsto its general demand. It holds that consciousness is nothingabove and beyond the brain’s physical constituents and activities.Consciousness consists of interactions between neurons andneurochemicals and everything physical that follows immediatelyfrom those interactions, and it is nothing more.

This “nothing more” is what troubles many, including Chalmersand me. Of course, any reasonable and educated thinker whoseriously considers the question of consciousness will acknowl�edge the important role that neurons and neurochemicals play inthe workings of the brain, but there is something bitterlyunnerving about settling the matter in these terms alone—unnerving, that is, to those of us who have reservations about thephysicalist doctrine. I call this unnerving feeling the “absurdity”of physicalism. I do not use this term so much as a jab at physical�ism itself (although, as far as I’m concerned, it could very well betaken as such), but more as the most apt expression of how hard



it is for us nonphysicalists to swallow physicalism. That is, I use theterm to make a comment about what makes physicalism not onlyunpalatable, but also unintelligible, for many of us.

The absurdity is this: Physicalism, it might be said, is fine as atheory in isolation, as a self�sufficient idea whose sole virtue is itslogical consistency. But physicalism seems intuitively false whenwe consider our common, everyday, hands�on experience of boththe world and our inner mental life. We do not experience eitherour conscious awareness of the world or our minds as anythingremotely like the actions of neurons and neurochemicals. In fact,I’d scarcely say that we experience our consciousness and minds asphysical, let alone neurochemical. For example, feeling the painof a hurtful emotion reveals nothing about the neurochemicalactivity or about anything physical underlying that feeling; andconversely, a description of neurochemical activity is not sufficientto indicate the presence of the hurtful emotions that it underlies.The same holds for any mental state and its underlying physicalinfrastructure. The only exception to this would be the case inwhich one is educated in the brain sciences and understands thecorrelations between the neurochemical activities and thecorresponding subjective experiences. In that case, one wouldknow what to look for, but only in virtue of the scientific studieswhich have established the correlations between neurologicalactivity and subjective experience, and not in virtue of directintrospection alone or understanding neurochemical descriptionsalone.

If we did experience our minds and consciousness as neurologicalphenomena, we’d have figured out all of the brain sciences soonafter the dawning of our species—because introspection wouldhave been all that we needed. But it was only during the lastcentury that we began to understand the workings of the brainin significant detail. The fact that our brain sciences are so newand revolutionary underscores how unexpected their findingswere and still are, and how unlike the first�person introspectiveworld to which we all have immediate access and with which weare all intimately acquainted.

That these two worlds—the introspective one we call “our mind”and the one constructed by the brain sciences—should be oneand the same is what strikes many individuals, even those who



are well�read and educated, as absurd. How is a thought, with itsmeaning, intentionality, and subjective feel, anything like a neuronor a neurochemical? How could it be physical? When we considerthe experience of mind and consciousness as an ordinary humanbeing would describe these, the conclusion seems, at least at firstblush, as simple as it is obvious: physicalism must be wrong. Theremust be more to our conscious life than the physical workings ofthe brain.

I said that my ascription of “absurdity” is not intended as a jabdirected at physicalism. Physicalists deserve much credit. Theyhave a rich and powerful toolkit of philosophical arguments andideas, enough to erase the impression of absurdity and to clarifywhat they propose and why they propose it. But the sense ofabsurdity is undeniable for those confronting the physicalistdoctrine for the first time, and it remains for many who, afterlistening carefully to all of the details of what the physicalist hasto say, are still unconvinced.

This is where Chalmers comes in. I’m convinced that his caseagainst physicalism is not only correct, but that it can also serveas the archetypal challenge that every physicalist theory ofconsciousness worth its salt must surmount. So let’s lay out whatChalmers has to say (Chalmers, 1996).

Chalmers asks us to imagine zombies. Now, it’s important, for the sake of this thought experiment, not to imagine creatures covered in rotting flesh, carrying dangling appendages, limping at a snail’s pace, and so on. We must imagine that anyone looking at these zombies would not be able to distinguish them from ordinary human beings who are alive, aware, and fully functional, and perhaps even healthy, happy, and attractive. Unbeknownst to you, they may be members of your family. You may work with a few of them. They may work for local law enforcement, keeping your streets safe and free of crime, or they may work at the grocery store down the street (the one where you buy bread each week). Everything about them, every detail right down to the molecules in their bodies, is what you would expect of a typical ordinary human being.The only difference is that they are not conscious. Even thoughthey act like conscious beings, talk like them, laugh like them, cry



like them, go to the movies like them, go out to dinner like them,and care for their children like them—that is, even though theyhave us fully convinced that they are no different from ordinaryconscious human beings—they have nothing of an inner mentallife. There is only a blank, a nothingness. They feel nothing, theyknow nothing, they themselves are nothing.

Their bodies obviously exist, and if you were to peer into thecranium of one of these bodies, you would see a brain no differentthan that of any conscious human being. This brain would behavethe same as a brain belonging to a conscious human being. Notest that you might apply to this brain, in order to see whether itreacts the same as a conscious human being’s brain, would beable to tell you whether it belonged to a zombie or to an actualperson. Right down to neurons and molecules, zombie brains areindiscernible from ordinary, living, thinking, feeling, conscioushuman brains.

If we are only interested in the question of how zombies getaround and perform all these seemingly human activities,Chalmers has no problem (nor do I) with physicalist explanations.He sees no problem in accounting for our behavior in physicalterms; our behavior is, after all, just as physical as the brain.Whereas some may insist that our overall behavior can only beexplained by something as intangible as “desires” or “intentions”or perhaps “free will,” Chalmers is satisfied that the brain is allthat’s needed. The brain is a very busy place, with billions uponbillions of neurochemical actions coordinating with one anotherto compute information and churn out results in the form ofelectrical signals deployed throughout the body to muscles whoseorchestrated contractions constitute acts of behavior. This neuro�physiological system is complex—there is no doubt of that—but itis organized and is sufficient to account for all our behavior. So ifzombies’ brains are identical to ours, why shouldn’t this system beable to account for their behavior as well?

Yet a question remains: Although the brain activity of zombiescould account for their behavior just as well as our brain operationsaccount for our behavior, does brain activity account for conscious�ness? Can zombies behave as they do without consciousness?Perhaps Chalmers would not have us believe outright that theirbehavior can proceed without consciousness, but Chalmers would



at least urge us to believe that we have no grounds for sayingthat it cannot so proceed.

Of course, Chalmers doesn’t expect us to seriously consider thepossibility of real zombies, even though no experiment in thebrain scientist’s repertoire could prove conclusively whether asubject is a zombie or a conscious human being. How could it?What would the experiment look for? Anything accessible toscience must be publicly observable by anyone peering under thehood of the skull, and the parameters of Chalmers’ thoughtexperiment clearly stipulate that all such scientifically observablephenomena would be detected in the brains of both zombiesand nonzombies—so such observations would be useless fordetermining whether or not we had a bona fide zombie on ourhands. But there is, nonetheless, something absurd about the ideathat some human brains come along with consciousness whileothers don’t, about as absurd as the notion that consciousnessjust is a physical brain operation, and Chalmers knew this.

His point wasn’t so much that the brain by itself is insufficient forproducing consciousness, but that what we understand of thebrain is insufficient to explain consciousness. And of course, if thebrains of zombies are identical in every respect to those ofconscious human beings, then Chalmers is saying that we willnever understand enough about the brain—at least in terms of itsphysical description—to explain consciousness.

We need not believe in zombies, but insofar as we can imaginethem without too much conceptual difficulty (insofar as we canat least entertain their existence and see no problem with the ideain principle), we don’t have the whole picture of consciousness.To the extent that we can imagine zombies without a sense ofbeing inescapably bound up in paradox, we obviously don’thave a grasp on why the physicality of the brain must result inconsciousness, and so the physicalist’s story is at least incomplete—if not totally wrong.

As I said earlier, I’m convinced that Chalmers' argument remainsthe quintessential argument for underscoring the pivotal problemwith which philosophy and science must still grapple as theyattempt to explain consciousness. But no doubt many will disagree.I know there were plenty of naysayers in the discussion that I



sparked on the philosophy forum. I refer to this forum discussionbecause I would like to use it as a template for my argument. Iintend to follow a line of argument that is similar to that in theforum discussion (but much abridged), and I hope that this willsucceed in showing the reader why I think the problem of mindand matter is indeed still a problem. I shall also use this templateto point out ways in which physicalism can be and is misunder�stood—a lesson I learned well by the time the forum discussionended.

This latter aim may seem odd; why would I argue that Chalmerswas right but also that physicalists are misunderstood? Thesimple answer is that the latter will make my job a whole loteasier. I could go through the entire physicalist arsenal, quotingthe likes of physicalists such as Daniel Dennett and Paul andPatricia Churchland2, and attacking their arguments point bypoint, but others have already covered that ground (Nagel, 1974;Jackson, 1982; Chalmers, 1996). If the apparent absurdity ofphysicalism might be a consequence of a misunderstandingrather than the radicalism that most nonphysicalists attribute toit, then our first step should be to forge a clear understanding ofwhat physicalists actually believe. I find that, once it is made clear,this new understanding paves a way for reintroducing Chalmers’zombie argument such that it is immune to the charges ofphysicalism, and that will be sufficient for my purposes in thiswork.

So I shall first present (an abbreviation of) the introductoryargument that I made in the discussion forum, follow this with apresentation of three main points on which I think physicalism ismisunderstood, and then explain why I think Chalmers’ zombieargument still applies within the context of this new understand�ing of physicalism. My overarching goal is, of course, to show thatthere is still a need for a novel theory of consciousness, a theorythat explains the relation between mind and matter. So I shallconclude with a sneak peek at what my theory of consciousnesssays.



REASONABLE PHYSICALISM

I started the discussion as a response to reading Daniel Dennett’sConsciousness Explained (1991), a book in which Dennett respondsto Chalmers. In response to Chalmers’ asking us to imaginezombies, Dennett asks: Can we imagine them? Here is myresponse:

[Dennett seems to be saying that] if one were to reallyimagine zombies in all their elaborate and complexphysicality—right down to every minute detail thatmakes possible and fortifies the link between the brainand consciousness/mind—one would find, emergingbefore [one’s] very (mind's) eye, consciousness itself. Sincethe patron argument in defence of [physicalism] is areductive one (i.e., consciousness/mind reduces to brainprocesses), the idea is that brain processes just areconsciousness/mind—constituting the latter—much as theatomic structures inside a rock just are the rock, and ifone could imagine—in all its elaborate and complexphysicality—such a structure of atoms, one would at thesame time be [imagining] the very rock that they consti�tute (it would emerge before [one’s] mind's eye, so tospeak). The argument goes on to say that any difficultywe may presently grapple with in understanding howconsciousness/mind can be reduced to the brain and itsprocesses is simply that we can't—not yet at least—[imag�ine] the brain and its processes in all its elaborate andcomplex physicality. The gap, in other words, is one of amissing ability to [imagine] or understand, and ... all thatwould be needed to fill the gap, if it were possible (andmay yet be), are physical concepts given by scientificknowledge.

My bone with this is that the problem goes deeper—much deeper—than a mere lack of scientific knowledgeof the [brain’s physical workings]. It has to do centrallywith the inability to understand how consciousness/mindcould be accounted for by anything physical. Conscious�ness/mind is not experienced as something physical—whether an object, a property, a process, a state, or what�ever—not in our most intimate acquaintance with it—and



it is this most intimate acquaintance that is the most inneed of explanation (for without this, the mind/brainproblem wouldn't exist). The suggestion that thisexplanation is forthcoming so long as science persistsdown the path of uncovering more elaborate andcomplex details about the brain's physicality simply willnot do, for in that case, the only destination one canimagine this path bringing us to is merely more elaborateand complex physical understandings. This misses thewhole point—the whole reason why there is a mind/brainproblem—namely, that we want to arrive at somethingnonphysical, something that bridges the gap between thephysics of the brain and our nonphysical mode of beingintimately acquainted with consciousness/mind. Sciencemust definitively reveal something nonphysical. Is such afeat within science's purview? It seems to me that sciencefunctions only to uncover the physical—physical facts,physical objects, physical processes, etc.—and so theanswer is no. You don't bridge such a gap—between thephysical and non�physical—by adding more physical.

The reason I can imagine zombies is not because I lackenough physical information about the brain, butbecause such information—even if I had it—would still bephysical. I need to bridge the chasm, not stroll furtheralong one of its banks. The problem, as I said, is not thatwe haven't had the opportunity to allow science to takeus far enough, but that it is taking us in the wrongdirection. That we can imagine zombies is a valid strikeagainst physicalism, for what it tells us—what it reallytells us—is that, not only do we not yet understand howphysicality accounts for consciousness/mind, but that,given the (mis)direction in which it takes us, it never will.3

It is important to note, for the sake of this discussion, that my useof the term “nonphysical” here is not an appeal to dualism—theCartesian theory that there are essentially two distinct andseparate entities or substances to our being, namely, the body (orbrain), which is physical, and the mind (or consciousness), whichis not—but rather harkens to our mode of being intimatelyacquainted with consciousness/mind. In other words, I use “non�physical” as a description of how consciousness and our mental



content seem to us, for that is how we know our minds mostintimately. It is the mind as we are acquainted with it that mustbe explained, and if physicalism is correct that the mind is indeedexhaustively physical, then we need an explanation of why this isnot reflected in our experience.

The catch�22 here is that this explanation must be nonphysical, orat least semiphysical or quasiphysical, for anything else would bean exercise in futility: the problem would continually re�emergewith respect to each new physical picture that science paints forus, each one more detailed and complex than its predecessor, andwe would spiral down a hopeless infinite regress.

The problem, in other words, is not in the incomplete nature ofour scientific knowledge about the brain, but in the kind ofknowledge that science is in the business of producing, namely,physical knowledge. The problem is that given somethingphysical, we can always imagine that it has a mind or that itdoesn’t. Consciousness always seems to be something superfluous,something that can be added to a body or taken away, and thestructure or constitution of that body, however simple or complex,cannot account for either the presence or the absence of themind.

The reason why consciousness always seems superfluous is, ofcourse, that it only exists as a first�person perspective. It allows usto see objects but it isn’t an object itself. When we look at anobject such as a brain, we see not only something physical butalso something that can only appear for us in the third�person (orthird�object). The first�person as such cannot appear—at least,not in this way. Thus, we have the peculiar circumstance in whichwe know there is this third�person object before us and we askwhether there is also a first�person coinciding with it. The latterdoes not appear—it isn’t supposed to—and so the questionremains unanswered. The result is that we are free to imagine thethird�person object as having a first�person perspective or not,and no logical inconsistency arises in either case. This is the casenot only with respect to brains, but with respect to all of thepossible physical constituents and processes that science may everilluminate. However deep our future scientific knowledge of thebrain may become, and however vast, no matter what infinitesi�mal particles we may discover therein along with their effects and



interactions, we will always be able to question whether any ofthese come with a first�person or not. This is the infinite regressof physicalism4.

In its original formulation, Chalmers’ argument is really not thatimpressive. It is not often considered to be one of the morepotent arguments against physicalism. This is why I felt that, if Iwas going to resurrect the argument on a discussion board, Ineeded to strike at the heart of the problem a bit more precisely.One of the weaknesses of Chalmers’ argument that has been(rightfully) pointed out by critics is that, as originally formulated,it seems to be arguing for dualism. It seems to state that if, givenour current scientific understanding of brains, we can imaginethem without consciousness, then consciousness must be some�thing different from those brains. I’m not prepared to embracethis interpretation, and based on his later interviews, I doubt thatChalmers ever did, either. Chalmers may have been (and may stillbe) open to this interpretation of his argument, but it seems tome that someone as learned and intelligent as Chalmers wouldnot be so daft as to confuse our current finite and incompletescientific knowledge for the physicalist’s entire case. His point wasnot only that our current scientific knowledge of the brain allowsfor zombie thought experiments, but that science in principle willalways allow these. Thus, I could not help but extract a key insightfrom his argument that perhaps could have been better articulated:the answer to the question of why zombie thought experimentsare possible lies in the very nature of physicality itself, in its third�person mode of being (for us) that leaves the first�person out ofthe picture. I had to make this very clear if I was going to resurrectthe zombie argument after it had been considered dead andburied by its physicalist critics.

But the voice of these critics could be heard reverberatingthrough much of the feedback I received from fellow members ofthe discussion board. Nor was that voice confined to just thisparticular critique—the one that promised that science wouldone day fully resolve the mystery of consciousness. Anothercriticism, for example, was the frequently�raised point thatChalmers is question�begging. If you assume from the outset thatconsciousness is nonphysical, then of course physicalism is goingto be wrong. But the whole premise on which physicalism standsis that consciousness is physical. If you don’t want to grant that



premise, that is fine, but you haven’t thereby falsified anything.One is still free to maintain the physicalist premise that conscious�ness is physical and therefore to consider Chalmers’ zombies tosimply be an incoherent concept. Chalmer’s argument presupposesthat we can imagine zombie brains that are identical to ordinaryconscious human brains in all physical respects but that differwith respect to consciousness itself. But then, since physicalistsclaim that consciousness is physical, the physicalists’ position isthat zombie brains and conscious human brains are not perfectlyidentical in every physical respect. Chalmers, they say, wants tohave his cake and eat it too.

Here we arrive at the first of the three points that I want to makeabout physicalism which, thanks to my discussion board peers, hasshown me how physicalism is often misunderstood. Even if thephysicalist were correct in accusing Chalmers of a question�begging fallacy, there is still the notorious absurdity thatemanates from physicalism in the first place. A nonphysicalistwould like to say, in response to the accusation of question�begging, “It may be fine for you to define consciousness inphysical terms—if that is what suits you—but don’t expect any�one with a shred of common sense to buy it, for only a second’sattention paid to the inner workings of your mind shouldconvince you that you’re wrong.” The things we find in the innerworkings of our minds are clearly not what we typically call“physical,” and thus, the physicalist doctrine can only bemaintained in a fantasy—that is, unless the physicalist isredefining “physical.”

This is what occurred to me during the conversation on thediscussion forum. I used an analogy:

The misconception is that the physicalist wants to denythe existence of internal states [and to assert] that suchso�called “internal states” are really just the things we can[observe] externally. On the contrary, the physicalistwants to say that such internal states are just as worthy ofthe label “physical” as any externally observed state.[This] is comparable to the claim that Paris is in Germany.Without being clear that by “Germany,” one really meansall of Europe, the claim seems blatantly false. Why onewould want to call all of Europe “Germany” is up to [that



person] to justify, just as it is up to the physicalist tojustify why he [or she] wants to call both externallyobservable states and internal ones “physical,” but solong as it is understood that this manoeuvre is one ofexpanding the term “physical” to encompass more territorythan it had hitherto covered, rather than [bringing]phenomena (like internal states) into its territory whenthey just don't belong there, then all's fair as far as thenomenclature is concerned.5

Now I could understand why so many would deny the verypossibility of imagining brains that are in every physical detailidentical to those of ordinary conscious human beings, yet lackconsciousness. At first, I thought this was merely a statementabout what was possible as brute fact—as one of my interlocutors,Jayson R. Abalos, eloquently put it: “If you build a human beingbiologically, it will have sentient, conscious self�awareness.”6 Ofcourse it will. No one, not even Chalmers, really believes inzombies (although the zombie thought experiment still points toa problem in our physicalist explanations of consciousness). I hadapparently missed my friend’s point: for him, the term “biologi�cally,” like the term “physical” for most physicalists, encompassesconsciousness. Biology is not merely the ground for consciousness—it is not merely the physical infrastructure that underlies andallows for consciousness—rather, biology is itself the fabric, as itwere, of consciousness. In that case, how could we imagine abrain whose physical constitution is exactly that of an ordinaryconscious human but that excludes consciousness? Consciousnessis part of that physicality. This is no mere argument from causation(brains cause mind) but from definition (brains include mind).

This could very well be what Dennett had in mind when he asked:Can you imagine it? But with Dennett, it’s hard to say. Like mostphysicalists that I have encountered, he plays a bit of anobscurantist game. Dennett himself even admits this inConsciousness Explained: “I do resist the demand for a single,formal, properly quantified proposition expressing the punch lineof my theory. Filling in the formula (x) (x is a conscious experienceif and only if . . .) and defending it against proposed counter�examples is not a good method for developing a theory ofconsciousness....” (Dennett, 1991, p. 459). He adds that if histheory should come up against questions whose answers run the



risk of incurring counterexamples, such questions “can be decidedas a matter of diplomatic policy, not scientific or philosophicaldoctrine.” (Ibid.) Certainly, they can, but that doesn’t mean thatscience and philosophy have nothing to say on the matter. Wesometimes can—and have a right to—explore the minutiae ofphysicalism or any other philosophy with a bit more scrutiny, ifthat is our purpose.

However, regardless of whether Dennett or any other physicalistrefutes the zombie argument on the ground that consciousnessought to be regarded as physical or that science will one dayprove it to be physical (and consequently imaginable), a variantof Chalmers’ argument can still be levelled against the physicalist.I call this a “variant” because, as we have noted above, Chalmers’original formulation of the argument appears to be geared moretowards defending dualism than anything else, and the pointmust be argued more subtly in light of this new understanding ofthe physicalist’s position.

The members of the discussion forum reached a certain measureof consensus once we agreed to abandon the terms “physical”and “nonphysical” in favor of the terms “scientifically observable”(or “publically observable”) and “privately observable,” respective�ly. Nothing in the physicalist’s conceptual repertoire disputes thefact that consciousness is a first�person occurrence, that a consciousbeing indeed has a “private world.” No one in the discussionobjected to the idea that we can’t get directly at the contents ofanother’s world insofar as it belongs to someone other than our�selves—that is, no one claimed that we can feel these contents inthe same way that their owner does (rather than inferring them).And everyone, of course, agreed that whatever was scientificallyobservable was accessible to all.

Based on these understandings, the “new and improved” zombieargument can be put as follows: We can imagine brains whoseconstitutions are identical to those of ordinary conscious humanbeings in every way that science can allow us to observe yet thatdo not experience the private world that is observable only to theconscious human being whose brain it is. Thus, what science cantell us about the brain is not enough to explain consciousness.When I advanced this version of the argument, I did not receiveany noteworthy objections, and so I am satisfied that this is an



important restatement of the argument.

The second point that I have come to understand is whatphysicalists mean when they talk about “neurochemical events.”This phrase has several variants such as “neuronal event,”“neurochemical activity,” “brain event,” and “neural process,”but I shall use the term “neurochemical event” to cover its variantsas well. Physicalists do not simply use the phrase to mean neuronsand neurochemicals doing stuff—at least, not necessarily. Thephrase does not have to refer simply to a collection of neuronsthat are firing in reaction to chemicals binding to them and thatare emitting further chemicals in response. The heat given off bythis activity can also be considered a “neurochemical event,” ascan fluctuations in the firing neurons’ local electromagneticfields. These count as “neurochemical” because of their direct,intricate involvement with neurons and brain chemicals, notbecause they are neurons and brain chemicals.

This extended meaning is obviously connected to the previouspoint about physicalism—that mind and brain are united underthe banner of “physical.” If mind can be classified as physical,then it also ought to be classified as neurochemical. This is simplya narrowing down, a specification of what kind of physical thingmind is. This is common sense, but only after wearing thephysicalist’s visors for a considerable while; that is, it was onlyafter I came to understand the first point about physicalism thatthis second point became “common sense” for me. If conscious�ness is physical, then of course the kind of physical thing it is mustbe a “neurochemical event.”

Of course, unlike heat or electromagnetic ripples, the mindhappens to be quite beyond the reach of scientific detection,even as a neurochemical event. Consciousness is still quintessen�tially first�person. Yet we can at least appreciate the case here: itmay, if we grant the physicalist’s position, be an effect, maybe evenan epiphenomenon, of scientifically observable neurochemicalevents.

Nevertheless, the zombie argument strikes again: we can stillimagine a brain with all the scientifically observable neurochemicalevents (to which I shall henceforth refer with the acronym“sonces”) of an ordinary conscious human brain but without any



of the privately observable neurochemical events (to which I shall refer to with the acronym “ponces”). If the physicalist’s argument turns on ponces just being a certain class of sonces—for example, many have entertained the thought that mind is really a form of energy or electromagnetic wave (a rather silly notion if you ask me, but taken seriously by some)—it still makes no difference to the zombie argument. One can imagine these sonces, events that are observed or imagined as third�person, without first�person experiences or ponces. Thus, whatever we understand about these sonces, it is not enough to discern a link to (or an identity with) ponces.

The third point on which physicalists are usually misunderstood isthis: they mean something quite specific by “consciousness” and“mind.” It became clear during my discussion with fellow forummembers that it was not enough to define “consciousness” or“mind” simply as a first�person perspective in which subjectiveexperiences occur. Consciousness is, after all, typically defined asan awareness of reality, and this means that it could at least bequestioned whether someone in the midst of a dream, forexample, really was conscious. The dreamer would certainly beexperiencing something from a first�person point of view, butwhat the dreamer believed to be happening would in fact be anillusion and, for all intents and purposes, the dreamer would notbe conscious of what was happening in the real world. Doesdreaming count as consciousness? Is it enough just to be havingan experience of some kind?

For the purposes of the discussion forum, I therefore definedconsciousness for the physicalist as “having at least a minimalawareness of the immediate world of an organism’s environment,currently and in the past insofar as the past is relevant or usefulto the organism, and having a minimal ability to predict futureevents insofar as those are also relevant or useful to the organ�ism.”7 I believe that this definition is sufficient to capture the kindof “consciousness” the physicalist has in mind. In turn, I defined“mind” as that inner realm of the subject in which thinkingoccurs. It may also include emotions, dreams, or anything else onewould usually take to be “internal.”

Well, one may ask, what else could consciousness be, if not anawareness of reality? Consider the nematode, as we did in the dis�



cussion forum. This organism became the basis for characterizingminimal scientifically observable and privately observable neuro�chemical events: the simplest nervous system that is capable ofgiving rise to the simplest kinds of first�person experiences.

Nematodes are wormlike crea�tures, usually microscopic insize, and contain only a fewhundred neurons in theirnervous systems, so it isquestionable whether they canbe “conscious” of anything atall. The most reasonable expec�

tations we might have of them would be that they are capable ofsensing or feeling things. Such a sensation or feeling may beenough to elicit a behavioral reaction, but this would be no morethan a reflex, rather than a planned or well�thought�out strategythat the creature implements in order to maneuver around itsenvironment or to gain resources. For all intents and purposes,therefore, the nematode is not conscious in the physicalist sense.

Yet no one—certainly not on the discussion forum—would denythe assumption that the nematode experiences something, somesubjective sensation or feeling that can only be had from a first�person perspective. It may not know it has this experience—itwould not know anything, really—but the members of thediscussion forum generally agreed that the experience, a ponce,was there. Therefore, a distinction can still be drawn between thethird�person nematode and its first�person experiences, a distinc�tion that permits the existence of the latter, unlike the former, tobe brought into question.

We need not venture too far from human brains to find poncesthat are below the level of full�blown consciousness. Take theexperience of pain, for example. Suppose we anesthetized theentire brain of a human subject so that every neuron lay dormantfor a short while, except for a small bundle of c�fibers that firedwhen the subject felt pain. In this scenario, the subject could notbe said to be conscious of or experience anything other than painif we stimulated those c�fibers. But even if we did stimulate thosefibers, would the subject really be “conscious” of the pain?According to our physicalist definition, the answer is “no.” To befully conscious of the pain (or anything), many other brain parts



Nematode

must be functional. They must process that information, that is,they must be able to take the signals present among the c�fibersand translate them into thought and knowledge, therebyproducing an “awareness” of the pain. On the other hand, wewould be able to say, even by the physicalist definition, that thesubject was at least experiencing the pain, that is, sensing orfeeling it. The subject would not know that he or she was feelingthe pain, but the feeling would be there.

The brain is chock full of centers like this: centers for ponces thatmay exist without our being fully aware that we are experiencingthem. Seeing colors is only possible because of specific centers inthe visual cortex. The same is true of hearing sound and feelinghot or cold. These ponces are the components into whichconsciousness can be broken down. But just as a single brick ishardly a house, neither are these sensations by themselvesconsciousness—or so the physicalists would have us believe.

And these physicalists are being reasonable, for their definitionof “consciousness” is itself reasonable. But we should not denythe presence of something corresponding to these brain centersor the nematode’s simple nervous system, something privatelyobservable, subjective, and only possible because of a first�personpoint of view. We may not be able to call this “consciousness,”but the term “ponce” seems to serve well.

With this new understanding of what “consciousness” means forphysicalists, we can begin to make sense of their claim that thebrain sciences have figured out how to explain consciousness. Tothe physicalists, explaining consciousness is nothing more thanexplaining human consciousness, and the task demands nothingmore than breaking consciousness down into its constituentponces and showing how the processing of the latter correlateswith the processing of its corresponding brain activity. If there isa question about how these ponces ever coordinate with oneanother to create consciousness, the physicalist can appeal to thebrain’s development as its owner grows from infancy to adult�hood or to our species’ evolution from apes and other prehistoricorganisms. The point would be that ponces existed long beforeconsciousness appeared, and the question of how consciousnessemerges is as different from the question of how ponces emergeas the question of how homo sapiens evolved is from that of how



life began.

But, of course, the latter questions can be asked, and therein liesthe infamous zombie argument: we can imagine nematodes in alltheir neural complexity (or simplicity?), yet without any ponces.How do we know that ponces are there? If we go with commonsense and assume that wherever we find neural activity we willalso find a ponce of some kind, we can still ask what creates thisponce. We can ask how the nematode’s nervous system createsponces. We can ask this question of the very first form of life thatexperienced something—anything—or of a single neuron if weremove it from the brain (but keep it alive) and stimulate it withan electrode. Where do ponces come from? How do neuronscreate them? Do they create them?

These last few questions proved to be a pivotal turning point forthe discussion forum’s conversation. In response to my questionof how first�personhood emerges (which is really no differentthan the question of how ponces emerge), Jayson R. Abaloswrote:

Here's the real question. How does a cell of any kind endup with a skin at all? How does a bubble have a skin? Howdid I ever separate me from everything else?... This skinstructure is ultimately what causes the private realm atall. And why it exists at all appears to be a rather interest�ing mixture of circumstance, product, and timing.8

That is, what makes me a first�person is the fact that I’ve separatedmyself from my surroundings (or my evolution has), and I’ve donethis by evolving a relatively secluded brain protected by a thickand nearly impenetrable barrier known as a skull, so that whatgoes on in my brain can and will be experienced as an isolatedsystem, a unit that is distinct from everything else. This is thecardinal reason that I experience myself as separate from myenvironment. In fact, this holds for any system that has managedto close itself off from its environment and maintain an internalsystem capable of self�perpetuation.

In response, I raised the question,



Do you believe that there was a 'me' before the cellmembrane introduced this separation? Obviously, itwouldn't be a 'me' as we now experience it—as anindividuated subject with his own private mental world—but perhaps a 'me' that was, for lack of a better word,'smeared out' throughout the environment, not attachedper se to any one object or local [system] of objects?9

Abalos’s response was:

There is, yes. Acceptance. The recognition of its constituentsis evident in its not refraining from being in the proximityof its constituents. Basically, the atomic, electrical, andchemical bonds are what innately determine the basiclevel of adherence that determines one group fromanother. It reacts to attraction and resistance, or, it recog�nizes—either way technically refers to the same concept;the latter is simply reflective consciously.10

I didn’t quite understand this at first, so I responded:

Here's how I read this: Yes, Gib, there was a 'me' beforethe split—but like you said, not individuated as we nowexperience ourselves. The three forces that make for'objects' in our world are the atomic, electrical, andchemical. These in some way *might* end up feelingindividuated. Attraction and resistance are the mainmodes of 'affect'—or that is to say, the modes of'communication' or 'transfer of information'—essentially,any exchange of energy between systems counts as'recognition.' The one system 'knows' about the other—or at least, 'feels' something which can be considered a'recognition' of the other. This 'feeling' counts as ourponce (or perhaps in this more generalized context, weshould talk about a 'pope': privately observable physicalevent). Is this correct?11

He answered in the affirmative. So in the end, this gives us apicture of physicalism that would have privately observable physicalevents occurring everywhere in nature, everywhere an exchangeof energy took place with one particle affecting another.According to this picture, mind is in everything—“mind,” that is,



in the broad sense.

Physicists will often talk about “messenger” particles beingpassed between other particles, such as two electrons exchangingphotons. The idea here is that the repelling force between twoelectrons is really a dance that is carried out when the particles“talk” to each other. One sends the message “Move away! I’m afellow electron” to the other by packaging it in a photon (like anote in a bottle) and shooting it at the other electron. The otherelectron does the same in turn, and they each obey the other’smessage and do the dance.

So where do ponces (or popes) come from? Nowhere. They werethere since the dawn of time. They are woven, as it were, into thevery fabric of existence. They are not “produced” by anything,but are rather reshaped and remolded as their physical (orscientifically observable) counterparts transmit, translate, andtransform them.

But does this answer our question about the link between theformer and the latter? Aren’t we in the thralls of the zombieargument even here? Can’t we still imagine two electronsexchanging photons without any “information” being gleanedby either one, without one or the other feeling anything?Frankly, I don’t see anything in this picture that convinces me thatsuch particles, or any other physical system, must experience anexchange or reception of information or have a kind of “feeling”or “sensation” or anything of that sort—at least, not from a first�person perspective.

Of course, if we dissolve the boundaries between inner and outer,between self and world, that are created by cell membranes, itcan be questioned whether there is any more “person” to be“first,” or whether its experiences are really “private” anymore.Yet, if a pair of electrons somewhere outside my body are havingan experience or an exchange of information, I’m certainly notprivy to it. The electrons are still third�person to me, and I can stillquestion whether such an exchange comes along with an“experience” or is taken by the electrons as “information.” If theanswer to these questions is “yes,” then obviously they occur in aworld that is private from me, and perhaps the “person” to whomthey occur is none other than the universe itself (or simply the



local environment).

Oddly enough, this view comes strikingly close to my own theoryof mind—the very one presented in this book—although, as Ishall later make clear, the former view still suffers one crucialdifference without which it could not be called “physicalism.”This was enough, however, to bring the discussion more or less toa close—although in my closing posts, I couldn’t pass up theopportunity to reassert the zombie argument. Despite my newlyacquired understanding of physicalism, I could not help but seethat Chalmers’ point still held plenty of water. I could stillimagine these electrons, or any other physical system, as notfeeling anything; I couldn’t see why they should feel anything(you can imagine how easy this was, considering it was alreadyrelatively easy for me to imagine human beings withoutconsciousness). The problem was the same one I had beenarguing throughout the whole discussion: physicality is alwaysthird�person, which, by definition, stands in contrast to first�person. Imagining a third�person doesn’t require imagining afirst�person. No amount of understanding of a phenomenon (suchas an electron or a brain) in physical terms—that is, in third�person terms—is going to suddenly and necessarily bring a first�person into the picture.

But physicalism does seem much less absurd now, doesn’t it?Despite my resistance to accepting physicalism, I have attemptedto make it more manageable and more intelligible—not so muchto reach a consensus about physicalism, but rather to figure outexactly how the zombie argument must be recrafted to addressphysicalism in the proper way, that is, in a way that mostphysicalists, if they’re honest, can digest and appreciate. Withoutthis new understanding, we’re just arguing past each other; withit, we can at least understand, and maybe even appreciate, ourdifferences and the reasons for our disagreement. Physicalists cannow understand why we nonphysicalists have a rough go at theirtheory, and we nonphysicalists can now understand that what thephysicalists are really trying to say is not so absurd after all.

Yet my three points about physicalism hardly address every possiblemisunderstanding about physicalism. Physicalists, probably becauseof their scientific penchant, tend to be sticklers when it comes toexact meanings and proper definitions. One term I have been



using rather liberally so far, but have since learned to be cautiousabout in my encounters with physicalists, is “experience.” This term,like “consciousness,” often carries highly specific connotations forphysicalists and neuroscientists alike. It does not refer to any oldponce such as pain or seeing red or tasting pineapple—at least,not in isolation—but to a more holistic and integrated apperceptionof the situation or event surrounding the ponce. The experienceof tasting pineapple, for example, involves not only the sweettaste itself, but also the pineapple’s juicy texture, the sensation ofchewing it, any thoughts or emotions that it may arouse, thesatiation that follows, and everything else that surrounds andinfluences the raw taste. Another term that I found to be amatter of contention in the discussion forum was “observable”(as in “privately observable”). To the physicalist, this term probablyconjures up notions like introspection or cognitive recognition.So I had to be very careful in making clear what I meant whendescribing the nematode’s “experience.” I had to make a distinctionbetween “observable” and “observed”—the latter implying thatthe experience is, in fact, observed by some power of introspec�tion or cognitive appraisal, and the former only that it could (inprinciple) be observed should there somehow be such powers,but not necessarily that there are any. It is a fair bet that the term“first�person” will be contentious when applied to anythingother than human beings since only humans are “persons.” Butthis latter nuance can be removed through a simple reminderthat the term refers to a point of view rather than the kind ofanimal that has it. The meanings of these and other ambiguousterms should never be taken for granted by either the physicalistor the nonphysicalist, for a great deal of head butting can, in myestimation, be avoided if we pay them due attention.

There is another danger in nonphysicalists’ discussions withphysicalists—namely, making the grave mistake of pigeonholingall physicalists. No group of people, regardless of how we definethem, fit a mold perfectly. One can expect to find diversity with�in any philosophy or system of thought that is as wide�rangingas its adherents are numerous. For example, when my forumdiscussion turned toward what I could only describe as a sort ofpanpsychism (the idea that every exchange of energy and everycause–effect interaction is accompanied by a “feeling” of sorts),I became particularly cautious about taking my interlocutor’sinsights as representative of physicalists’ views in general. I



suspect that a large portion of physicalists, if not the majority,would not venture much beyond nervous systems when attributingconsciousness or ponces. Nevertheless, I believe that my thirdpoint about how to properly interpret the physicalist—as holdingthat “consciousness” refers very specifically to a fully developedawareness of the world that only the most sophisticated animals,principally humans, can attain—makes a lot of sense of thephysicalists’ claims and can reasonably be said to be roughlyrepresentative of their views on the whole.

But there are bound to be exceptions. There are bound to be oneor two physicalists out there who fervently believe that conscious�ness and mind are nothing more than what we see when we lookthrough a microscope at the brain and observe the busy clamorof third�person neurochemical events, and that one need nevertalk about the existence of something over and above this clamor,something that is private, subjective, or first�person. In my experi�ence, physicalists can be quite hard to pin down, and it can bevery difficult to decipher precisely what a physicalist reallybelieves (for example, whether the three points outlined hereinaccurately describe his or her views). But one need not work one’sself to the bone trying to pin down exactly what one’s interlocutormeans to say. One need not even make the assumption that onehas misunderstood one’s interlocutor. If one’s interlocutor’s pointseems absurd, one has a right to call a spade a spade. One has aright, that is, to dismiss the point, after numerous failed attemptsto reason it out, as absurd (or incoherent, or paradoxical, or justplain wrong) and move beyond it.

Though there is no coming to terms with radicals and fanatics ofany “ism” (not just physicalism), one can at least explain thedifficulty of swallowing an analogy that should strike anyone,physicalist or not, as objectionable because of its sheer absurdity.This analogy comes from the discussion forum, and will serve asthe perfect note on which to close this brief exploration ofphysicalism. About midway through the discussion, I almostconceded defeat at what looked to me at the time as a colossalwall of absurdity, ready to admit that there was no getting pastit. But I decided to at least bow out gracefully with the analogy,if only to express my frustration and angst in face of a paradoxundermining the whole physicalist paradigm as I had understoodit up to that point. I said that the notion that consciousness or



mind is nothing more than the physical processes of the brainas we can observe them under a microscope is as absurd andimpossible to swallow as the notion that red might be nothingmore than a pattern of black and white. Anyone with a shred ofsanity should agree that the latter notion is clearly absurd andtherefore plainly wrong. I had no hope that this would makeconverts of my physicalist friends, but I did expect them to at leastappreciate my troubles and to believe me when I told themexactly what I felt. It doesn’t help to point out that consciousnessemerges from the physical microstructures of the brain over along course of development and evolution; for it would strikeone as no less absurd to be asked to entertain that red emergedfrom a pattern of black and white over a long course of develop�ment and evolution, once it became complex enough or wasarranged in the right configurations. The problem remains. Red isa color that we cannot imagine emerging from a mixture of pureblack and white. So too with consciousness: we nonphysicalistscannot imagine that it arises out of a mixture of purely physical(i.e., third�person) particles.

But I mustn’t get carried away. Having said all that, I must remindthe reader that most physicalists are quite reasonable people,and the absurdity of their claims is superficial. A careful lookbeneath the surface reveals a different, more plausible, renditionof their views. I only present the color analogy as a last resort—ameans of explaining, not so much why the physicalist is wrong,but why it simply doesn’t compute with us. That’s something thephysicalist cannot take away.

I hope I have persuaded the reader that Chalmers’ challenge,insofar as I have successfully resurrected it and properly reshapedits parameters in light of our new understanding of physicalism,still reveals a persistent weakness in the physicalist doctrine.Physicality, no matter to what extent our sciences may shedepistemic light on it, will always be presented to us as third�person, and this necessarily leaves any first�person out of thepicture. We are therefore free to imagine the first�person’spresence or absence, and because nothing about the third�person’s mode of being (to us) implies or necessitates anaccompanying first�person, the third�person perspective will neversuffice to explain its connections to the first�person or why thefirst�person should exist at all. I would not go so far as to claim



that this proves physicalism wrong, but if it is not wrong, it is atleast inadequate. If physicalism is correct, although I think it isnot, it can never fully explain consciousness and how it relates tophysicality. When brought to its logical conclusion, the bestphysicalism can say is that the link between physicality andconsciousness (or any ponce) is beyond human comprehension,and the problem of mind and matter is utterly insoluble. Thus,the problem of consciousness is still with us, and so, by implica�tion, no theory of consciousness has ever been fully adequate.

ALTERNATIVES TO PHYSICALISM

Leaving physicalism and Chalmers’ zombie army behind, wheredo we go from here? If we abandon physicalism, what are ourother options? Well, dualism—the belief that mind and brain aretwo distinct and separate entities—comes to mind, but philosophersare generally inclined to say that dualism is plagued with perhapseven more problems than physicalism12. Its key strength, at leastin Descartes’ rendition13 (Descartes is the father of moderndualism), lies in the universalization of its two substances (mindand matter). This gives us some nifty categories into which we canplace all things that exist or that could exist. This makes forparsimony, and a useful tool for classifying things. Dualism’sgreatest weakness—the key reason for its widespread abandon�ment in modern times—is that the two categories are utterlyincommensurable. That is, once the world is posited as consistingof two universal and separate substances, there is no way toexplain, save the positing of a miracle, how any interactionsbetween the two can occur. (This point is highly technical in philo�sophical circles, hinging on precise definitions of “substance”; seethe work of Spinoza for more on this14). Thus, far from resolvinganything regarding the problem of mind and matter, Descartesmore or less sabotages the whole enterprise by rendering theproblem insoluble. On the Cartesian account, mind and mattersimply can’t interact. An act of God is necessary, which is not anadequate explanation in rigorous philosophy.

Of course, we can also entertain a somewhat weaker form ofdualism, a form that we might call “folk dualism,” (Bloom, 2004)which is more or less the common layperson’s understanding ofhis or her own mind and its relation to the body. Generally



speaking, unless they are highly educated about these matters,people take it on intuition that they have a mind and a body andthat these are two different things. Questions about universalityand commensurability simply do not arise for the layperson; nordo questions about classifying substances. The layperson does notthink of the mind and the body in terms of substances but ratheras two different phenomena, like trees and the fruits they bear,that happen to occur in human beings and other animals. Theremay even be, as far as the layperson is concerned, ways in whichthe mind can affect the body and vice versa, ways that science canperhaps even illuminate. In fact, there must be such ways, for itjust seems obvious that they do interact.

Although this watered�down version of dualism is not nearly asfrought with problems as the Cartesian variety, it nonethelessremains silent on the question of how to explain consciousness interms of the brain. Both versions in fact remain silent. Cartesiandualism can’t explain it, while folk dualism merely doesn’t.

Seen through a philosopher’s eye, folk dualism really isn’t dualismat all, if it permits of interactions between mind and brain. If theycan interact, a philosopher would tell you, they must be one sub�stance. The layperson can remain on solid ground by identifyingthem as two distinct forms of this single substance, two distinctphenomena, but now this is really a variant of monism. (If thereader understands the term “dualism,” it shouldn’t be a greatstretch to understand “monism”—it is obviously the view thatonly one substance exists throughout the universe and thateverything we encounter in the world is cut from this singlesubstance.)

Monism eventually became the preferred solution to the mind/matter problem (James, 1904; Broad, 1925; Whitehead, 1929;Place, 1956; Smart, 1959; Feigl, 1967; Putnam, 1975), as it becamemore and more evident that Cartesian dualism simply wasn’tgoing to cut it. If we want to abandon dualism for a form ofmonism, Descartes gives us two options: we can reject either themind side of the mind/matter dichotomy or the matter side. Wehave seen that physicalism rejects the mind; physicalism is amaterialistic monism. Idealism is what you get when you rejectmatter. Idealists (Fichte, 1847; Renouvier, 1899; Royce, 1919; Luce,1954; Peirce, 1958; Gentile, 1922; Foster, 1982; Collier, 2010) say



that the world and all of reality are fundamentally mental innature. The objects strewn about us are really only sensations orperhaps hallucinations or a grand dream.

But idealism leaves much to be desired. Although it eliminatesthe question of how mind and matter interact, idealism raisesmore perplexing questions and urges us to accept a picture of theworld that is even more absurd than the physicalist world that Ihave described. Where do all these mental apparitions comefrom? How is a universe rooted directly in my own mind evenpossible? What is my mind rooted in? George Berkeley, the fatherof modern idealism (Berkeley, 1710, 1713), would have usbelieve that everything is sustained, not so much in the minds ofindividuals, but in God’s mind. When one sees a tree, for example,one is really looking at a divine thought. God is imagining thetree. He allows it to be communicated to us through our senses.In essence, to be in the world is to be in the mind of God.

Berkeley is a material skeptic, which is to say he doubts the realityof the material world. He thus calls himself an “immaterialist.”This would not be true if it weren’t for Descartes. While rejectingthe material side of dualism, Berkeley models his understandingof mind straight after his predecessor. Descartes’ concept of mindis designed for doubt. He reasons, quite cleverly, that one cannever be certain whether the world as it appears at one momentor another is the product of a dream, a hallucination, or even anevil demon set on deceiving us (Descartes lived in very religioustimes). He even casts doubt on our abilities to reason our waythrough such considerations. If it is possible that we are hallucinat�ing in our perceptions, we can also be delusional in our thoughts.We can even be delusional in our most well�thought�out andcogent deliberations, so that even our most powerful convictions—such as the conviction that 2 plus 2 equals 4 or that all circlesare round—might just be the ramblings of madness (evil demonscan be quite insidious). Therefore, we have no reason to say—that is, no absolute proof—that any of the world as it appears isreal or that any of the theories that we believe are true. In otherwords, there is nothing in appearances, or in the way things seemto us in our thoughts, that indicates conclusively that thoseappearances or thoughts are of reality, and so “realness”, in andof itself, does not exist in appearances, thoughts, or anythingmental.



This creates a severe problem, not only for Descartes, but for anybrand of idealism that banks on Cartesian notions of mind.Descartes is essentially saying that the reality of the world (ofanything) is never to be found in appearances. Though thisfacilitated the material skepticism that permitted Berkeley topropose a monistic theory of mind (and thereby resolve many ofCartesian dualism’s difficulties), it also created a new problem:now the world as it appears, consisting exclusively of mind, hasno reality. This was not Berkeley's position, of course, for heovertly claimed that the world, though exhaustively mental, wasindeed real. But herein lies the incoherency: when brought to itslogical conclusion, Berkeley's idealism, if it rests on the Cartesianconception of mind, must embrace the implication that the worldis completely without reality15.

On this note, it is important that I stress what my critique hereaims at: it is not Berkeley or his idealism, but Cartesianism. Ibelieve that what Berkeley was attempting to do was to undoCartesianism—that is, the Cartesian concept of mind and theskepticism over the material world that follows from that conceptof mind—but that he fell short in virtue of his following (perhapsunconsciously) in Descartes' footsteps. That Berkeley was influencedby Descartes in this way is a conjecture16, of course, but only some�one who brings himself to doubt the reality of matter in the styleof Cartesian skepticism could call himself an “immaterialist.”Only someone who works from within the Cartesian frameworkwould ever choose between the Cartesian concepts of “mind”and “body” and reject the latter in favor of the former. This is notto say that Berkeley ever doubted the existence of objects likerocks or trees or human bodies, but that ultimately he doubtedthey were material. But in the same stroke, he wanted to undothe Cartesian perspective that if a thing exists only in perception,it is not real—that a thing is real only in virtue of existing outsideperception—and to replace this perspective with one accordingto which the perception itself is the ultimate reality. What hefailed to do, however, was to recognize that if by “perception”one understands Cartesian perception (i.e. Cartesian mind), thenhis goal of making this perception the ultimate reality becomesincoherent. As argued above, the Cartesian concept of mind isdefined for doubt. It is conceptualized such that it is essentiallydevoid of any inherent reality. What Berkeley needed was to firstreject the Cartesian concept of mind and then to replace it with



something more accommodating to minds, by themselves,harboring some inherent reality. Thus, it is not Berkeleian idealismwhich I reject, but any vestiges of Cartesianism which it maycontain. It is really the Cartesian concepts of mind and matterwhich I reject, and with respect to Berkeley's idealism, I say merelythat it could use the kind of improvement that only the exorcizingof Cartesianism from it could accomplish.

To clarify this point, we should note that even though Descartesdenied the manifest reality of anything in its appearance alone,he did define mind as a substance—one of the two that exist.This is most likely what Berkeley fell back on in maintaining thatthe mind was real. Though this leads to the aforementionedincoherency in Berkeleian idealism, it is not a problem forDescartes. At least Descartes, through some fancy philosophicalchicanery, was able to posit the existence of the material world asa copy of what we find in appearance (God, he reasoned, wouldnever allow us to be deceived). He could do the same for themind itself: he could conceptualize the mind as a container andthat which the mind perceives as its contents. Thus, the mind,though not showing up for itself in appearances (not one of thecontainer’s contents), can be real in virtue of existing outsideappearances. For Berkeley, however, this was nonsense. It made nosense to talk about the existence of anything outside perception,certainly not as a copy of perception (how could an apple still bered if no one was around to see it as red?). This didn’t mean thatfor Berkeley, the world was irreconcilably unlike what it appearedto be in our perceptions, but rather that it was always within thepurview of some perception (i.e., God’s). But herein lies his fatalmistake. If he is borrowing his concept of mind from Descartes,which, as I’ve just shown, prohibits the reality of anything in itsappearance, then it prohibits the reality of even God’s ideas intheir appearances to Him. If God’s ideas are to be of real things,those things must exist outside all perception—even God’s.

Though this goes directly against the heart of the Berkeleiandoctrine, idealists in general might try another avenue: theymight say that there are no real things—not as they appear to themind at least—but that the mind itself is nevertheless real. Theproblem with this is that the reality of this mind cannot show upfor itself. Whatever appears to a mind would have to be illusory,and although we might like to say that a copy of that illusion



exists (as a real thing) somewhere outside its appearance, we findourselves inevitably brought back to the same catch�22: thatthere must be something real outside of not only our own percep�tions, but all perceptions. But in this case, that something turnsout to be those very perceptions. Could the mind be outsideitself? Not likely. Either nothing is real, which is nonsense, oridealism, at least when it relies on the Cartesian concept of mind,is false.

So it looks like we are out of options. Neither dualism norphysicalism nor idealism is satisfactory. What do we do now? It’sdeceptively simple: we recognize that the problem lies in theoptions we were given at the outset. We shouldn’t be choosingbetween the mind side of dualism and the matter side. The kindof monism we need to aim for is one that embraces a hybrid ofthe two Cartesian substances. We must somehow reconceptualizeour understandings of both mind and matter in such a way thatwe recognize them as different forms of the same substance, anew substance. What we really need is a novel way of looking atsubstance itself, one that permits us to appreciate substance asthe very fabric of reality and of which both mind and matter areinstances.

This is what I’ve set out to accomplish in this book: I present anew concept of substance. It embodies a radical shift in the waywe understand mind and matter, and it not only solves theproblem of mind and matter, but also presents a strange andwonderful new world view, the likes of which the world has notyet seen.

I expect my readership to consist mainly of academics andlaypeople who are interested in philosophy and spirituality. To theacademics, I offer an economization of philosophical disciplines.The philosophy of consciousness and that of ontology are thesame, with only their respective vocabularies to distinguishbetween them. Although this may seem obscure at this point, itwill become clear as the reader continues. My point is that theproblem of mind and matter can be solved by simplifying anduniting what at first may appear to be distinct fields of philosophy.

To the layperson, I offer a new spirituality, one that fits well withscience and that is guaranteed never to come into conflict with



any of its findings. We live in materialistic times where hard scienceand cold objectivity seem to relegate spirituality and religion tothe margins. It is sometimes difficult to reconcile spirituality withhard science, and it is not uncommon that scientific evidence isbrought in to tear down certain religious articles of faith. Ipromise the reader that the theory I present in this book is inprinciple fully compatible with science and therefore allows us toembrace a holistic view of reality that encompasses both scientificfact and a spirituality that complements it.

This book is the first of a three�volume series. It lays out the theoryitself. This introductory chapter is followed by a couple of chaptersthat contain background material: one chapter on neuroscience,and only those aspects of neuroscience that are relevant to mytheory, and one chapter on some of the philosophical ideas thatI believe are necessary for understanding my theory. Neither ofthese two chapters presents novel material; experts in the fieldsof neuroscience and philosophy should be entirely familiar withtheir content, and so if you are one of these experts, you may getby without reading one or both of these chapters.

My theory itself is presented in two parts, in Chapters 4 and 5,“The Basic Theory of Mind and Matter” and “The AdvancedTheory of Mind and Matter.” Together, these chapters comprisethe complete body of MM�Theory (as I call it). The Basic Theoryhas a customized definition of “experience” at its core, as well asa formal correlative description of the relation between mind (orexperience) and the brain. The Basic Theory presents this correla�tion only as a descriptive formula (rather than an explanation),and it doesn't diverge too much from a crude form of dualism.The full theory, the reader should note, is not dualist; the AdvancedTheory extends the customized definition of “experience,” alongwith the descriptive correlation, to all matter and every physicalsystem in the universe, fusing the material and the mental intoone ubiquitous substance. Ultimately, the theory does aim atexplanation, and it is finally rendered as a variety of monism.

What the Advance Theory will leave unaddressed at the end ofchapter 5, and what chapter 6 will pick up on, is the question ofwhat makes for individuals—that is, the “self” which one feelshim or herself to be—and without a thorough treatment of thisquestion, the theory of consciousness which I present in this book



could not be considered complete. Chapter 7 takes the moregeneral implications of my theory of consciousness—that is to say,the implications of consciousness’s relation to physicality in general(not just brains)—and touches on some of the most basic relationsbetween consciousness and the fabric of the physical universe.These will include questions on the atomic infrastructure of matter,fundamental particles, space and time, and how these relate toconsciousness and experience. In short, chapter 6 will deal withconsciousness as it relates to the self, and chapter 7 will deal withconsciousness as it relates to everything else. All the foregoingwill, no doubt, be a lot to chew. Therefore, this book willconclude, in chapter 8, with a summary of my theory.

Volumes II and III respectively address logical/conceptual topicsand scientific/ontological topics that stem from MM�theory. I say“topics,” not “problems,” because these volumes address bothproblems and implications, the latter being worthy of attentionpurely because of their interesting allure. Although the theorywould leave much to be desired without these last two volumes,they mostly present comments and reflections about MM�theorymore than vital components thereof.

I do encourage you, after you have read through volume I, to gofurther. I invite you to explore not only the theory itself, but alsoall of my ideas, as I’m confident they will stimulate and inspire.These three books may be long, but I promise they won'tdisappoint. I feel that I have something truly novel and intelligentto say and that the time that you spend reading my books willsurely be worth your while.



Chapter 2:

NEUROSCIENCE

INTRODUCTION

If we were to categorize the subject matter of this book, it wouldhave to fall under the philosophy of mind. However, any philosophyworth its salt should not conflict with science. It is even better ifthis philosophy not only avoids conflict with science, but is in factrooted in it. The purpose of this chapter is to outline the thickscientific soil in which MM�Theory is rooted. The scientific basesfor a philosophy of mind ought to be, and in the case ofMM�Theory indeed are, none other than the neurosciences. Inthis chapter, therefore, we will cover the extraordinary breadthof neurological facts that have been uncovered during the pastcentury. And what a breadth it is—much too vast to touch onevery minute detail. Therefore, as much as we would like to striveto exhaust the plethora of neurological facts, we will have tosatisfy ourselves with the basics. There are plenty of textbooksand articles that devote more attention to the richer details ofneuroscience, and these sources are readily available to the readerwho is interested in learning more (Johnson, 2004; Sacks, 1998;LeDoux, 2003; http://dericbownds.net,17 “Understanding theBrain”18).

We will begin by looking at the neuron, which is the basic cellfrom which our brains, along with the nervous systems of allorganisms, are built. We will then look at the brain piece bypiece. These pieces are the major systems of which the brain iscomposed, systems that work together to make the brain a fullyfunctional thinking device. We will examine the structures of thesepieces as well as their functions as they relate to our perceptions,experiences, and behavior.

Chapter Two: Neuroscience35

We will conclude this chapter with a bit of philosophical reflectionon what the neurosciences have to tell us. This will serve as theperfect lead�in to the next chapter, where we will delve headlonginto philosophical questions concerning the mind and the brain.With all of the above under our belts, we will be in the perfectposition to discuss MM�Theory. So, without further ado, let'slearn about the brain.

NEURONS

The neuron is the main cell of the brain and the nervous system.Although it is not the only type of cell that makes up the brain, itis central to the proper functioning of the brain as an information

processing organ. Neuronsare unique among the cellsof the body insofar as theirmain function is to transmitchemical and electrical signalsto each other as the meansfor processing information.Each neuron is like a wirethat can carry an electricalcurrent. The brain and nerv�ous system are therefore tothe body as an electricalsystem is to a machine. Theirrole is to “bring life” to the

machine—as it were, animating it. We might say that the brainalso serves as the body's computer. The senses provide the inputsignals that the brain processes in order to compute what's in theenvironment and how to react to it. The brain's output signalsdetermine how the brain and nervous system control the rest ofthe body. All these signals are relayed from one area of the brain toanother by the interconnections between the billions of neuronsthat constitute this entire system.

There are approximately 100 billion neurons in the brain. AsFigure 1 shows, their structure looks very much like a tree. Theaxon is like a trunk, the dendrites are like branches, and the axonterminals are like roots. This structure makes an efficient mediumthrough which electric charge can flow. The electrical signal that



Figure 1: Neuron anatomy

flows down the axon and dendrites is more of a quick impulsethan a steady current. This signal is referred to by neuroscientistsas an “action potential,” and when it occurs, we say that theneuron “fires.” The action potential travels from the cell bodytowards the axon terminals. These terminals usually connect tothe dendrites of other neurons but sometimes to their axons orcell bodies. One neuron can have up to 10 thousand such connec�tions, and it is these connections that allow electrical impulses totravel from one neuron to another.

Although these connections are firmly in place, most neuronsdon't actually make physical contact with one another. There is agap on the order of about 20 nanometers between the synapses(the ends of the axon terminals) and the adjacent neurons. Whenan action potential reachesthe synapse, chemicals called“neurotransmitters” are re�leased into the gap betweenthe synapses (which is calledthe “synaptic gap”). Theseneurotransmitters find theirway across the gap and bindto the other neuron at whatare called “receptor sites” orjust “receptors.” These aretiny mechanisms on the mem�brane of the recipient neuron whose function is to convert thechemical signal (the neurotransmitter) back to an electrical signalthat travels down the neuron's length.

There are many kinds of neurotransmitters and receptors. Differentparts of the brain release different kinds of neurotransmittersand have different receptors for receiving them. However, not allneurotransmitters transmit a signal. Some prevent the recipientneuron from firing. These neurotransmitters are called “inhibitory,”whereas neurotransmitters that stimulate the recipient neuroninto firing are called “excitatory.” Because synapses usually don'thave more than one type of neurotransmitter (although thereare rare exceptions to this rule), we usually refer to the synapseitself as being inhibitory or excitatory. Some drugs interfere withthe brain by binding to specific receptors. Some of these drugsmimic excitatory neurotransmitters, while others mimic inhibitory



The synaptic gap

ones. Yet other drugs chemically react with neurotransmitters sothat they can no longer bind to the receptors, while still othersblock “reuptake,” the process by which neurotransmitters arereabsorbed into the original neuron.

Even if a synapse is excitatory, this may not always be enough tocause an action potential in the recipient neuron. In order for therecipient neuron to fire, it needs to receive a critical amount ofelectrical charge flowing into the cell body. This is known as thecell's “threshold.” The threshold is usually reached by summingup the amount of electrical stimulation from several synapticconnections, and at this point the neuron fires.

The action potential is made possible by an exchange of positivelycharged ions across the cell's membrane. When the cell is at rest,

the exterior is coated withsodium ions (Na+) and theinterior contains potassiumions (K+). Although thepotassium ions are positivelycharged, there are othernegatively charged ions with�in the cell, and the overallcharge on the inside is nega�tive (about �70mV). Whathappens when an actionpotential begins is that

sodium channels on the membrane open up, allowing Na+ toflow into the cell. The interior becomes more and more positivelycharged until it reaches around +30mV. At that point, potassiumchannels open, allowing K+ to flow out of the cell. The chargeinside the cell drops again and shoots slightly past ‑70mV. Thisprocess occurs in a chain reaction as sodium and potassiumchannels open successively along the length of the axon, and itconstitutes the electrical signal.19 As the signal travels away froma particular channel, the amounts of Na+ on the exterior and ofK+ on the interior return to their resting levels. The neuroncannot fire again until these resting levels have been restored(usually after one millisecond).

The more frequently a neuron fires, the more intensely we feelthe subjective experience that comes along with the neuron’s



Ion channels

firing. If there is more than one neuron associated with thissubjective feeling (for example, a whole group of neuronsconcentrated in one center), the frequency of firing for thisgroup is not limited to the one millisecond threshold that asingle neuron usually requires. This is because while one neuronmust rest for at least one millisecond before it fires again, otherneurons from its group may fire during the interim. Therefore,although a single neuron may be limited to a maximum frequencyof one millisecond, the group as a whole can surpass this, and theintensity with which we feel our subjective experiences can bemuch greater than would be afforded by a firing frequency thatwas limited to one millisecond.

Neurons form connections with each other in two ways. First,when the brain is developing, neurons branch out, extendingtheir dendrites and axon terminals, and make contact with eachother. If these connections are found to be useful, they remain;otherwise, they atrophy. This process generally ends when thebrain is fully developed. Second, the number of receptors in thesynaptic gap can increase or decrease. A neural connection can befortified by increasing the number of receptors for an excitatorysynapse, and it can be weakened by decreasing the numberof receptors. At an inhibitory site, increasing the number ofreceptors will make the synapse a more effective inhibitor of therecipient neuron, while decreasing the number will make it a lesseffective inhibitor. This process occurs both during and after thebrain's development. A single connection can span from one endof the brain to the other, and axons can be several inches long,the longest in the human body being roughly one meter.

One approach that neuroscientists take to studying the brain is tosee what parts of the brain become active when the subject isexposed to a certain stimulus. For example, a subject might beshown a set of moving spots on a computer screen while an fMRImachine scans the subject’s brain to see which parts are active. Inthis way, neuroscientists can identify specific parts of the brain asserving specific functions. In the example of moving spots, certainareas in the parietal cortex might “light up,” as they say, andtherefore, these areas are recognized as “motion detectors.”Other areas that detect many different kinds of stimuli—as wellas internal mental states such as thinking and feeling emotionshave been identified. The term “modules” is often used to refer



to these specific areas.

A module is a network of neurons that responds to a specificstimulus such as color, a human voice, a temperature change, orpin pricks on a certain part of the body. I will borrow this term forthe purposes of this book, with a few small modifications. First, Ishall call a module a “MOD,” for short. Second, I shall generalizeand use “MOD” to refer to neural networks that perform anyfunction—not just the function of responding to external sensorystimuli. So, for example, the hippocampus, a structure deep in thebrain that has little to do with sensory stimuli, is a MOD whosefunction is to aid in the formation of long�term memories.

A MOD need not be confined to one small area of the brain.MODs are simply networks of neurons and therefore can bespread out over a wide area. For example, a hypothetical MODcould be composed of only four neurons—one in the frontal lobe,one in the limbic system, one in the right temporal lobe, and onein the medulla (these regions of the brain will be described in thenext section)—and as long as their dendrites and axon terminalswere connected, these interconnected neurons would comprise agenuine MOD. Conversely, there might also be several thousandMODs taking up the same volume of space in the brain. A MODcan also be composed of several smaller MODs. For example, theoccipital lobe (also to be described in the next section) can bethought of as a MOD for vision, and it would be composed ofsmaller MODs for detecting lines, color, motion, etc. Indeed, itwould not be a mistake to treat the entire brain as one big MOD,if one so desired.

Furthermore, a MOD need not be found in a brain or a nervoussystem at all. Of course, this only makes sense in principle; youwill never find a MOD anywhere other than in brains and nervoussystems. But suppose, just for the sake of argument, that we



DEFINITION: MODA MOD (short for “module”) is a network ofneurons.

could build a MOD. Suppose,hypothetically, that we had a toolkit with a box full of neuronsand all the trinkets the avid neural engineer would require forbuilding a MOD. All we would need to do is sketch out acustomized design for a MOD, as in Figure 2, determine howmany neurons we need and in what arrangement they should beput together, and set to work. The neurons can be connected inany way we like, and the resulting structure will be a MOD underour definition. As you can see from Figure 3, these MODs mightend up looking like the brains for a strange alien species.

But why contemplate such asilly scenario? We do sobecause the concept of aMOD is pervasive in this book,and it should be understoodas generally as possible. Thekey insight to be gleanedfrom this fanciful scenario isthat a MOD is really any pos�sible arrangement of inter�connections between neurons,including arrangements thatdon't in fact exist. We willindeed be considering MODsthat don't exist, and we willbe asking what kind of men�tal experiences an organismcould have with such MODs.

But we are getting ahead ofourselves. A much more informative way of thinking about MODs



Figure 2: Example MOD

Figure 3: Possible MOD designs builtfrom the neurological tool kit

for our current purposes is to consider the major MODs that doexist. Therefore, we shall turn to the brain, an integrated systemof MODs working together to bring about our consciousexperiences. Let's look at the anatomy of the brain as a system ofMODs, touching on each one in turn.

BRAIN ANATOMY AND FUNCTION



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Chapter 3:

PHILOSOPHICAL BACKGROUND

INTRODUCTION

The last chapter covered what the reader needs to know aboutbrain anatomy and function. It was a very brief rundown andbarely does justice to the discipline of neuroscience, but it willsuffice as a prerequisite for understanding MM�Theory. There isanother bridge that needs to be built here, however, that willfully enable the reader to move from this neuroscientific back�ground to MM�theory. This bridge consists of the body ofphilosophical issues that arise on the basis of this neuroscientificbackground. This chapter is devoted to these issues.

There are four issues, to be precise. First, we will focus on thebinding problem, a conundrum with which most neuroscientistsare familiar. It is usually phrased as a question: How does thebrain “bind” all the information it receives into a unitary wholethat we experience as consciousness? For example, when weperceive an apple, we perceive its redness, its roundness, and, ifit is rolling across the table, its movement. How is it that weperceive all these qualities as belonging to the same object—theapple—when each of the qualities is, as we have seen, processedby a different part of the brain? How do these disparate MODsbind this information together?

The second issue we will focus on is the analogy drawn by function�alists that compares brains to computers. Functionalism is thebelief that things ought to be defined by their functions, and asfar as most functionalists are concerned, the brain functions asthe body’s computer and the mind is the software that runs on it25.

Chapter Three: Philosophical Background75

A background in circuit design will be necessary for understandingthis, and so we shall take a moment to go over some basics.

After looking at functionalism, we will find, now that we arefamiliar with neurology, that the brain looks very deterministic.Therefore, a portion of this chapter will be devoted to thequestion of how deterministic the brain really is. We will notresolve the many disagreements that surround this question, butwe will look at what the neuroscientific facts have to say aboutthe issue.

Finally, we will examine the relation between perception, thebrain, and reality. This last section will raise more questions thanwe will start out with, but these questions will be the perfectlead�in to the rest of this book. The topic of reality and percep�tion is a significant one for MM�Theory.

THE BINDING PROBLEM

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Chapter Three: Philosophical Background76

Chapter Four:

THE BASIC THEORY OF MIND AND MATTER

THE PARADOX

Assuming that the reader understands the concepts covered inthe last two chapters, in particular, the concepts of dualism,neurological determinism, and determinism in general, it is timeto delve into the central theory of this book. I don't expect thereader to unreservedly subscribe to the aforementioned concepts,but I do expect that the reader at least understands what thesetheories purport and also that there is some good reasoningbehind the theories—because this is our starting point. We beginby accepting the picture of the brain that the neurosciences havepainted: a rather physicalistic and deterministic picture, at least atthe level of neurons. This picture almost seems to dispense withthe concept of mind and free will as superfluous and thereforeunnecessary for explaining how the brain, and thereby humanbehavior, works.

At the same time, however, we also begin from a dualisticperspective—the perspective according to which there are twodistinct entities, the mind and the brain, that seem to have apeculiar synchrony between them. We take this perspectivebecause it is in this context, along with the context of thephysicalistic and deterministic picture of the brain that theneurosciences have painted, that the infamous paradox of mindand brain arises. We treat the problem of mind and matter asthough we were laypeople who have always taken dualism forgranted and who have just been educated in the neurosciences.

Chapter Four: The Basic Theory of Mind and Matter121

The philosopher John Searle says that that the average person inthe street is a dualist30, meaning that dualism is the most intuitiveway of understanding the relation between mind and brain. Ibelieve this wholeheartedly. I believe this because I was a dualistlong before I even heard of René Descartes, the father of themodern form of dualism.

Humans in general don't need to be exposed to philosophers ortheir views on the mind and its relation to the body in order totake dualism to heart. It is the most intuitive theory of mindsimply because it describes how our minds and bodies feel withrespect to each other, much like how, without being educated,we find geocentrism to be the most intuitive theory of theuniverse—and this, of course, without consulting Ptolemy orother ancient thinkers on the subject. It is intuitive because that'show things look. But if we are slipping into the mindset of thelayperson who has just been educated in the neurosciences, thenwe are confronted with the paradox of mind and brain. Theneurosciences tell us that our concepts of mind and free will aresuperfluous, that all that we need in order for understandinghow we process information and control our behavior can befound in the mechanically and chemically driven actions of thebrain. This, then, ought to raise perplexing questions for thedualist layperson, who might ask, “How can dualism, whichseems to be privately verifiable and intellectually indispensable,be wrong?”

Some readers may be philosophers of mind themselves. Somemay be dualists, some monists; some physicalists, some idealists.Whatever your persuasion, it's likely that you won't see the point ofstarting with a dualist layperson’s perspective. Such a perspective,you may say, has been, or at least ought to have been, abandoneda long time ago; philosophers have since come up with muchbetter solutions to the problem of mind and brain. In fact, thisbook presents such a solution—that is to say, I have my ownsolution to the problem, and it is not dualist. I dare not say it willbe the final word on the subject, but I would like to offer thissolution and hope that it will be counted as one of the morereasonable nondualist solutions. So why am I starting from adualist layperson's perspective? I do so simply because that iswhere anyone ought to start when the objective is to present anew alternative to the more familiar, mainstream, and entrenched



accounts. Anyone who has such an objective ought to begin as ifspeaking to laypeople, showing an appreciation of how suchpeople understand the problem to be addressed, especially ifthere might be laypeople reading the account. In summary, I'dlike to reassure the reader that I am not defending dualism. Itseems to me that if the goal is to find a unique path out ofdualism, one that has not hitherto been blazed, then the bestplace to start is within dualism.

The dualist layperson who has just been educated in the neuro�sciences would characterize the paradox as a clash of twoassumptions: the assumption that the brain is physicallydeterministic and the assumption that there is a nonphysical andindeterministic mind that accompanies the brain. Let me explainthe paradox. These two assumptions entail that there are twoprimary mechanisms in control of our behavior which, for themost part, should be mutually exclusive. On the one hand, thereis a neurologically deterministic system—your brain—that isgoverned solely by the laws of nature. On the other hand, thereis your mind, governed by reason, emotion, and the power ofyour will. Let’s focus on the former. Deterministic as your brain is,it should be possible, given a particular physical brain state, toaccurately predict any future brain state, because your brain, andtherefore your behavior, are on a predestined path. Of course,this excludes the influence of extraneous variables and assumes asuperhuman ability to compute such states either at present or inthe future, but the predictability still holds in principle. Nowfocus on the mind. Dualism assumes that the mind is as real as thebrain, albeit in a completely different form. As a person continuesalong the path predestined by the brain, that person alsoobserves, thinks, desires, evaluates, feels, and so on. It is thereforeconceivable that at any point along this path, he or she mightdesire to alter it. This may happen regardless of whether thisperson knows where the path leads or that it is predestined.Having such a desire, he or she can freely choose to satisfy thedesire, thereby breaking away from the predestined path.

I know that personally, I have never experienced resistance to mychoices or my exercising my freedom because my brain neuronsrefuse to yield (as in “I'd like to, but the chemicals in my brainwon't let me!!!”)31. Nevertheless, the thought that I can so easilymake such a choice seems to entail that my neurons have been



forced to break with their predestined path and have violated awhole slew of natural laws. But just as I have never experiencedneurochemical resistance to my choices, I have never experiencedviolations of the laws of nature. This, therefore, is the paradox:there are two governing mechanisms of behavior that mutuallyexclude one another from playing a role.

The principle below summarizes this paradox:

I suppose some might subscribe to the idea of psychologicaldeterminism. The paradox still remains, albeit in a slightly differentform. Psychological determinism maintains that the mind isindeed a governing mechanism but that it runs according to itsown set of laws which are psychological in nature, involving desires,reasons, stress, fear, lust, sensations, and so on. These governinglaws make for another predestined path, a psychological path inthis case, that theoretically might diverge from the physical paththat is followed by the brain. It is difficult to imagine a scientifictest whereby such a divergence could be identified, but it is perhapsmore difficult, if not impossible, to imagine the means by whichthese two mechanisms, so drastically different in essence, maintaina synchrony.

As a matter of fact, it seems as though nothing from one of theserealms should affect the other. The physical sciences suffice toexplain the processes in the brain, while the psychological factorssuggested by psychological determinism suffice to explain theprocesses in the mind. In other words, each realm is self�sufficient



PRINCIPLE: The Paradox of Mindand Brain

1. Human behavior is fully governed by a determin�istic brain.

2. Human behavior is fully governed by a mindwith free will.

3. Juxtaposed together, 1 and 2 result in a paradox.

in its self�governance and the ensuing behavior. The only way onecan affect the other, even in an effort to maintain synchrony, is ina manner that has no consequence at best, or by perturbing theother’s self�governance at worst. Amazing coincidence thusbecomes the only account that we can provide for the parallelactivity of the mind and the brain. In this case, the paradox canbe restated as follows: we have two self�sufficient causes ofbehavior, the removal of either of which will have no effect onthe other or their common outcome (i.e., the behavior), becausethe other is fully sufficient for its own self�governance andactualizing the outcome. But if either cause can be removed with�out affecting the outcome one iota, then that cause is completelyineffectual. In what sense, then, is it really a “cause”?

The objective of this chapter is to resolve the paradox. The theorythat is presented at the end of the chapter serves as the core thesisof this book. Of course, if the reader doesn't concur with premise1 or 2 of the paradox (and there are some who won't), he or shewill find no paradox and therefore no need for a resolution. Ibelieve I've presented some good arguments in the last twochapters that support accepting the first of these premises, andthe common everyday experiences by which the layperson under�stands his or her own mind (and which serve as our starting point)make it difficult to dismiss the second. This is why I contend thata solution is still needed. This chapter has been written for readerswho see that there is a philosophical problem and who areinterested in entertaining my proposal. Rest assured, my goal isnot to reject either premise. Rather, my approach will be to focuson premise 2 and rethink the concept of mind in such a way thatpremise 2 becomes compatible with premise 1. The concept ofmind will appear to be more deterministic in the end, but this isnot essential to my theory. I intend to leave room for free will,but only in Volume III will I explain how it fits in.

REEXAMINING DUALISM



Please purchase your full copy of The Nuts and Bolts of Consciousness--Volume I to read the rest of this book.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gibran Shah was born in Saskatoon,Saskatchewan, Canada in 1976. At the ageof 17, in 1994, he moved to Calgary,Alberta, finished grade 12, and moved onto the University of Calgary. There, heearned his B.A. in psychology and his B.Sc.in computer science.

Gibran Shah has been interested in thephilosophy of mind since his adolescence.Such an interest has lead to a wealth ofreading and writing on the subject, all ofwhich has been brought to the table in his latest book, The Nutsand Bolts of Consciousness.

If you would like to contact Mr. Shah, please email him atgshah@mm�theory.com.

To purchase your own copy, or additional copies, of The Nuts andBolts of Consciousness, please visit www.mm�theory.com.

About the Author

6 2 4 9 5

780987 7529019 $4.95

Philosophy/Metaphysics

Shah Publishing Ltd.

ISBN 978-0-9877529-0-1

The twentieth century has provided us with a plethora ofknowledge about the brain and the mind, but we have yet tofully understand the relation between the two. We are still askingthe age�old question of how we—ultimately physical and biologicalmachines—come with subjective experience and consciousness.

In this book, you will find an answer to this question. It is proposedthat the great difficulty of this question stems from the assumptionthat the mind, or consciousness, if it is to be explained at all, mustbe explained in terms of the brain, that the brain producesconsciousness. This book presents a novel theory that rests on acomplete inversion of this unquestioned assumption, and offers afresh new look at the problem of how consciousness and thebrain relate to each other.

Extrapolating from the theory, one may draw the conclusion thatnot only does this book explain human consciousness, or theconsciousness of any living organism, but that it has profoundimplications for the very nature of the universe and existence.These implications run the gamut from the existence of God andthe afterlife to insights into science and practical applications inone’s own life. Needless to say, this book has much to offer—notonly for scientists and philosophers interested in the subject ofconsciousness, but for anyone interested in spirituality and thehuman soul.

Both the philosophically minded and those that have any interestin the mind�matter relationship will find themselves fascinatedwith the theory advanced in this well�conceived book.

Cathy Reyes, Lawyer

The most insightful and compelling ideas are generated by thosefollowing a path they are passionate about. The Nuts and Boltsof Consciousness is the result of a relentless passion for the searchfor a solution to the mind and matter problem.

Darren Hamilton, LawyerPhilosopher, Psychologist,

Computer Scientist

the nuts and bolts of consciousness nuts and bolts of consciousness... · 2017-04-02 · would i be...

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