*** 3.5 stars ***
“Is there a possible explanation for how we get feelings from small electric storms in our heads?" Not yet, maybe one day, but possibly never. In the meantime, reading this book is likely to give you, if not an electrical storm, just some very exhausted neurons. Not only 19 ways of looking at consciousness, but 19 metaphorical leaps a chapter, it seems. Still, I found it a worthwhile addition to my latest reading phase, a non-expert deep-dive into the philosophy of mind and consciousness.
As a start, I like to find out what an author’s response is to the so called ‘hard problem’ of consciousness. This is the idea that consciousness is a kind of neuroscientific spanner in the works. The hard problem is hard because nothing in physics, chemistry or biology prepares us for it. For some, the hard problem of consciousness demands a total rethink of how science is conducted (Nagel, Goff). Others think the whole ‘hard problem’ is a massive overreaction, making a mountain out of our own ignorance and that consciousness, like any other scientific puzzle, is ultimately solvable (Churchland).
House acknowledges that we do have a problem: "There is a difference between theories of how a brain works and theories of consciousness. The unsolved problem of consciousness can be categorised into many easy problems and one hard one. The easy problems deal with how the brain works. The hard problem, and there is only one, is the need to explain why it feels like anything at all to be conscious”. And why is this so hard? Because "nothing about any theory of how the brain works tells us definitively how the feeling of subjectivity unfolds from its workings". What if one day we have a complete description of how the brain, as a physical organism, works? Would this explain the feeling consciousness? House remains agnostic. Either it definitely will, or it definitely won’t. For now, however, it remains “the scientific study of a blind spot".
Despite the neurointertwinglement (a real word that I’ve just made up) of ideas and concepts in this book, some key themes emerge. Underpinning everything is this: consciousness – and the brain which supports it – is a product of earth’s three-an-a-half-billion year evolutionary history. This being so, “how can we possibly ever expect the word ‘consciousness’ to contain within it the collapsed variation of billions of years of evolutionary differences?”. Almost everything else will flow from this.
The author’s favourite idea is the connection between consciousness and movement. “A body” writes House, “is restless to get moving; in fact, the entire purpose of the brain is to make efficient movement from experience, and everything else, including consciousness, is downstream of these efforts”. The brain’s only output is muscular, and even thought is a kind of movement without moving, a simulated motor act, like revving a car in neutral: “Any act of thinking is just pretending to act out. Consciousness requires cells that want to move and that know roughly what will happen when they do…” Given the almost limitless number of ways a primate can move, and has to move, in the physical environment, a huge part of the brain’s activity involves predicting, simplifying and coordinating movement, and carefully rationing out the brains limited energy reserves. "This must be the ultimate purpose of consciousness: to control a body".
Many related questions arise from this. For example, “where does a consciousness end and the rest of the world begin? Where is the line between inside and outside?” Or consider this. How far can consciousness extend within a body given that there “is no known physical limit to how much space a single consciousness can inhabit”. If you grew an extra 2 arms, or 20 legs, or 200 toes, your consciousness would extend to fill and control that extra physical real estate. There is nothing to say that a mouse brain could not hold sway over an elephant body.
Another common idea is the role of the brain in heavily editing reality for the sake of surviving it. Thanks to consciousness, we live in a continuous simulation, a virtual reality, enabling us to focus on what matters. And having become expert in just a few aspects of reality, we have even developed life-saving predictive powers in these essentials. There is nothing magical about intuition which is a form of back room consciousness. “Intuition has a maligned reputation as one of the lesser kinds of reasoning but is, in fact, second only to consciousness itself as the mammalian brain’s greatest feat”. This ability to internally “copy” real-life scenarios (via memory and imagination) is what contributes to our sense of self.
Most of the chapters reference the case study of 16 year old Anna. In the mid-1990’s Anna underwent surgery to alleviate the effects of epilepsy. As the brain has no pain receptors she was able to stay awake for the surgery (her head was stabilised and her scalp anaesthetised). During the procedures the surgeons kept asking Anna questions and while doing so, poked her brain 85 times with little electric prods. Wouldn't this get annoying? Well, no. In fact, during one such poke Anna laughed. And when asked to explain why, Anna responded “the horse is funny” (a picture she was viewing) and “you guys are just so funny…standing around”. The puzzle is that it was not just Anna’s laugh muscles responding mindlessly to an artificial impulse. She also reported the conscious sensation of mirth, and even provided a rationale for it. The implications of this connection between the muscular and the mental is explored in almost every chapter. “Movement and thought are braided together throughout all life on Earth” writes House. “When a brain thinks, it is acting on itself. Her brain was not used to actions without plans".
Some chapters recount personal experiences. Chapter 13 (the easiest to read) is a dialogue between himself, Christoff Koch (author of the last book I reviewed) and Jonathon Leung, a neuroscientist who had recently undergone surgery for a brain tumor that he would later die of. In the following chapter the author describes undergoing a panic attack in the presence of 3000 Tibetan monks, confessing to anti-spiritual and anti-Buddhist leanings (he may be a bit less brainy in the next life), and wondering why the mind wanders.
Anyway, here are three final reflections I've plucked from the agitated whirlpool of ideas making up this book.
First, if thought and movement are connected then it’s no wonder that meditation and mindfulness is just a little challenging. Mindfulness is all about stillness and dwelling in the present. But it’s of the very essence of consciousness to be oscillating madly between past and future. “We spend almost half of our waking thoughts reliving memories or planning for the future”. This is not just a by-product of modern life, but of billions of years of learning to move around our environment. We are monkey-mind simply by virtue of being conscious.
Second, there can be no single definition or theory of consciousness. This is because like a teenager’s bedroom, our evolutionary history is unfathomably messy. “There is” writes House “no one such thing as ‘consciousness’ and the attempt to study it as a singular phenomenon will go nowhere".
Finally, I’m left with a strange feeling of helplessness at how utterly dependent our mental and emotional life is on our physical spongeware. There is something almost humiliating about this, as I suppose anyone who has experienced cognitive decline already knows. And as we will all experience one day. So if the human spirit seems special, if it suggests a higher, deeper or yet to be revealed purpose, then the mind's radical dependency on matter keeps us thoroughly down to earth.