Cognitive Phenomenology

by Tim Bayne (Editor), Michelle Montague (Editor)

It is widely agreed that there is such a thing as sensory phenomenology and imagistic phenomenology. The central concern of the cognitive phenomenology debate is whether there is a distinctive "cognitive phenomenology"--that is, a kind of phenomenology that has cognitive or conceptual character in some sense that needs to be precisely determined. This volume presents new work by leading philosophers in the field, and addresses the question of whether conscious thought has cognitive phenomenology. It also includes a number of essays which consider whether cognitive phenomenology is part of conscious perception and conscious emotion.

Three broad themes run through the volume. First, some authors focus on the question of how the notion of cognitive phenomenology ought to be understood . How should the notion of cognitive phenomenology be defined? Are there different kinds of cognitive phenomenology? A second theme concerns the existence of cognitive phenomenology. Some contributors defend the existence of a distinctive cognitive phenomenology, whereas others deny it. The arguments for and against the existence of cognitive phenomenology raise questions concerning the nature of first-person knowledge of thought, the relationship between consciousness and intentionality, and the scope of the explanatory gap. A third theme concerns the implications of the cognitive phenomenology debate. What are the implications of the debate for accounts of our introspective access to conscious thought and for accounts of the very nature of conscious thought? Cognitive Phenomenology brings the debate to the forefront of philosophy, and
provides a state-of-the-art account of the issues at stake.

Genres: Philosophy

378 pages, Hardcover

First published May 31, 2011

Reviews

[Alina · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was directed here by someone who saw that, obviously, the topic I had been focusing on is directly linked to that of cognitive phenomenology. Surprisingly, I hadn’t seen this link at all, prior to this person directing me. Now, I can understand why it is not all that surprising: while this literature and by the debates I’ve been focusing on might target the same purported aspect of the mind, each side embodies such different approaches to understanding this aspect of the mind, that it’s fascinating to think about how the two could still talk about the “same thing.” I want to explore and unpack some of these vague, big-picture “feelings.”

To start, let me introduce the topic of this present anthology, as well as sketch out the ideas of some of its essays. When thinkers propose that there is cognitive phenomenology, this amounts to the claim that—given our traditional cleavage between sensory/perceptual aspects of the mind and cognitive/rational aspects of it—the so-called property of “having phenomenology” or “phenomenal character” that on certain traditions has been thought of as essential to sensory and perceptual experiences should be extended to as also (at least sometimes) had by cognitive or rational mental activities or states. In other words, as there is a general notion of “what it’s like” to taste the sweetness of an apple, or to see the red color of its skin, these pro-cognitive phenomenology thinkers maintain that—in the same general sense of the phrase “what it’s like” that applies to this perceptual case—there is also something “it’s like” to think that the apples we eat are products of long-term cultivation and our human-made version of natural selection.

There are different ways of making more precise this thesis. For example, some thinkers maintain that it should amount to that, while obviously there is some experiential aspect to having thoughts, the pro-cognitive phenomenology position is that this experiential aspect is non-reducible to that of sensory/perceptual experiences (e.g., the phenomenal character of hearing speech, or seeing text on a page). Then, out of thinkers who are already pro-cognitive phenomenology, they can have their own debates over questions such as whether every thought, individuated by distinct propositional content, has its own distinctive phenomenology; and whether these phenomenal properties are explanatorily prior even to the content of thought, and so could be said to “ground” what is meant by a certain thought; among other questions.

I found “The case against cognitive phenomenology” by Peter Carruthers and Benedicte Veillet very helpful. These authors focus on distinguishing the pro-cognitive phenomenology thesis from other closely related theses that are almost trivially true. They argue that if that controversial thesis appears to be compelling, this could be due to conflating it from these other related theses. For example, weaker and indisputable theses might include that thought can have a causal role that influences the phenomenology of perceptual/sensory experience—in contrast to that the content of thought is itself constitutive of the phenomenology o perceptual experience.

They also have a nice analysis of what might be distinctive of our notion of phenomenology or phenomenal content at all. These authors argue that it is at least necessary to this notion that the aspect of the mind under consideration as a phenomenal content is capable of giving rise to the “hard problem of consciousness” or the “explanatory gap.” Various so-called conceptual/rational aspects of the mind, however, do not give rise to this problem. When we consider “what it’s like” for me to see the red color of an apple, that which we supposedly pick out by this expression is intuitively irreconcilable with the hypothesis that it reduces to the material matter we interact with of this world. In contrast, when we pick out the concept “apple,” e.g., by thinking the sentence “I have a concept that my mind applies in synthesizing my sensory experience of an apple,” this problem doesn’t arise. It is quite alright to think that this concept could reduce to the material stuffs of this universe.

I found this proposal suggestive. It got me thinking: What makes for the difference between aspects of what’s available from our point of view that can apparently give rise to the hard problem and qualify as phenomenal properties, on the one hand, and those that do not, on the other hand? Here is some first-attempt riffing on this question. In order for the hard problem of consciousness to get off the ground, we need to have a shareable, unshakeable conception of something that is constituted by what we consider to be the mental or conscious stuff that makes up an individual’s point of view (what we could call “mental stuff”), on the one hand, and that we nevertheless all agree exists in such a way that we can all demonstratively refer to it, and so have certainty about its existence in the world as much as we have certainty about the existences of public objects in the world (e.g., tables and chairs), on the other hand.

That is, this conception of something mental in constitution and yet world-like in its ability to be demonstratively referred to must be such that the vocabulary we use to communicate it should come with standards of correctness for using it (just as the vocabulary for talking about tables and chairs come with such standards). Otherwise, if my friend claims that there’s an aspect of what’s available from his point of view which he calls “gi,” and when I ask him what he’s means he says that the only way he can talk about it is to use this term and to sway his arms about, I have no good reason to think that the hard problem of consciousness should get off the ground with respect to him. It is possible that what he’s talking about isn’t constituted by mentality in opposition to worldly matter; or, it’s possible that what he’s talking about is something he has imagined or made up (e.g., like visual snow or a mirage), as so does not count as a true “substance” around in this universe, as we think that consciousness amounts to, as it is invoked under the hard problem of consciousness.

In order for an aspect of what’s available from our point of view to satisfy these criteria (i.e., to apparently consist in mental stuff as opposed to material stuff, as well as to afford anybody’s demonstratively referring to it), it is necessary that it be generated by our brain processes in a manner that is homogeneous across individuals of our species. Everything regarded as mental arguably is at least partially based in the brain (on pain of overthrowing commonsense assumptions of naturalism). In order for anybody to be able to “see” and to be able to thereby demonstratively refer to it, it must be generated by the brain in a similar enough of a manner across individuals of our species. (What do I mean by “similar enough” under this context? Of course that’s a big issue, and I don’t know how to address it here).

If any of this is on the right track, I wonder whether a way to argue against cognitive phenomenology is to say that what we call, in everyday life, the particular thoughts or bouts of reasoning/musing/understanding we have, fail to meet these criteria of sensory properties of perception above which are necessary for them to give rise to the hard problem of consciousness. Namely, we don’t pick out a singular aspect of the mind by saying “her/his understanding of X,” for example. There are a range of ways of “carving out” the state or episode of her understanding regarded as that which is picked out by this expression—for example, it could include primarily any sentence she uses to express her understanding, or in contrast, it could include what Frege calls “color” or “tone” of thought, which consists in emotional associations among other things to a proposition that might be expressed. Moreover, any individual instance of thinking or understanding is apparently “absolutely unique” in a way that instances of perceiving red are not. What we think of as thinking or understanding is not generated by mental modules that execute a uniform or homogeneous “program” in the minds across members of our species. We might think of this in terms of a certain “creativity” or “freedom” we have in what we think, which we lack with regards to what sensory properties come into view when we perceive.

As a whole, here’s a riff-like take on why it simply hadn’t occurred to me before to look into this literature. Pro-cognitive phenomenology thinkers take a certain approach of picking out and examining the aspect of the mind that I’m interested in (which could very roughly be described as “thought appreciated for its aspects that occur at the personal, rather than subpersonal, so-called “level of analysis”). They assume it consists in qualities that we can all agree exist there—which in turn requires that these qualities are general enough such that they can be shared between us, and moreover, that these qualities are “static” or “stable” enough such that it makes sense, at all, to think of them in terms of properties that persist over some period of time.

I’ve been thinking about this aspect of the mind through a different angle. It’s harder for me to describe or self-reflect on what this angle is. As an attempt at least, it is primarily driven by epistemological concerns and puzzles/paradoxes that arise therein. For example, it is intuitive to think that when it is apparent that a claim we’ve made amounts to knowledge (as opposed to randomly formed belief), there is something we’ve taken as a reason for it. Then, to take something as a reason like this, it appears that we need to be aware of that thing (e.g., as an analogy, to take smoke to be a signal for fire requires that we’re aware of that smoke). It seems that we can knowledgeably form claims about pretty complex, non-perceptual issues, while also not doing so on any antecedent basis involving inferential reasoning. Then, this might tempt the thought that we must be aware of something we’ve been thinking about (rather than aware of what we’re perceiving), such that there is a candidate on the table for something we’ve taken as a reason for forming this claim. I could ramble on more but will stop here.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is about the debate over whether, in addition to their being sensory, imagistic, and emotional phenomenology, there is a phenomenology of thought (one that is distinctive and proprietary of thought). This is a really good survey of the topic. Some of the articles were weaker than others (I'm thinking of the last two here), but overall, it was a really helpful volume.