Imagine the following scenario:
Some fancy-pants filmmaker is shooting a scene of a bar fight. The bar fight gets committed to film in the movie camera. The film is later removed, processed, and released for distribution. Copies of the film go to many places. One copy winds up at a local theater. Up in the projection booth, which is off-limits to you, someone takes the film out of its canister and preps it for display.
You eventually come in, sit down, and watch as the film is projected on the screen in front of you. You have no control over the content, although you could certainly influence things a bit by yelling or throwing your drink up against the screen.
Got it? OK, now think about this one:
You’re in a bar, and there’s a bar fight going on. Light from the fight enters your noggin through your peepers. The light is converted into nerve impulses that travel through your brain, hitting various areas. The thalamus, a sort of sensory switchboard, distributes the information. Some of the information winds up in your visual cortex. Back in the visual cortex, which is off-limits to you, the information is converted into something that you can “see”.
Eventually, the images are “projected” on a “screen” in your mind. You have no control over the content, although you could certainly influence things a bit by dropping some acid or something.
I accidentally got interested in consciousness this week. I really didn’t mean to do it, but reading a little on the subject in the latest issue of Scientific American Mind left me with little choice. A few words into a small blurb, and I was hooked.
I hadn’t ever spent that much time thinking about consciousness, which is odd considering my interest in think-meat.
As of now, the movie theater analogy, although freaky imperfect, is the best way I’ve come up with to explain consciousness to myself.
Whoah, dude… That’s, like… You know… Like… Whoah…
Yeah. I know. I think the Stoner Campfire Conversation aspect of discussions about consciousness are part of what’s kept me away for so long, but this stuff is, once you get past the hokey “whoah, dude” aspects, @#$ing fascinating.
I still maintain that people who are naturally interested in computers ought to love this stuff. Whenever Arthur C. Clarke talked about (and I’m paraphrasing here) how any sufficiently advanced technology would appear as magic to us, I feel like he sort of glossed over what, as far as we know, may very well be the most incredible piece of technology in the entire bloody stinking universe.
For example…
How in control do you really think you are? I’ve been arguing with people about Free Will ever since a particularly interesting shower that I took in college (I’m not going to discuss the details right now (or ever, probably)), and I’ve held the position that we sure as hell don’t have It.
It takes, for example, as much as 200 milliseconds for a visual stimulus to pass through all the little dark alleyways of your brain before it’s translated into something you’re aware of. It can take even longer before you’re able to recognize the thing you’re aware of – about half a second might pass before you realize that the two-armed, two-legged thing standing before you is your aunt Mildred.
Here’s the interesting thing, though – you will often react to that stimulus before you’re aware of it.
Before you’re aware that it’s aunt Mildred, some part of your brain recognizes that a strange thing with horn-rimmed glasses is trying to give you a big old kiss on the cheek. The part of your brain that deals with issues like this tells your feet to beat it, but it might still be another several hundred milliseconds before you can even begin to appreciate the danger you’re avoiding.
In other words, part of your brain recognized a threat and told another part of your brain to act on it before any of this was projected on the movie screen in your head. Your brain acted without your consent, and you just got to watch the results.
How’s that for Free Will?
And I don’t want to hear any arguments about how it was your brain that acted, and therefore your own will. Your sense of self is directly the result of consciousness, and these actions are taken without conscious intervention, which means that they aren’t really from the part of you that considers itself To Be.
Somebody else, as my friend Adam would say, “…is driving the bus.”
And that’s just one little tidbit of interesting information…
Discussions of consciousness are full of examples like this. Some are stranger, and some are a little more mundane, but there’s plenty of ‘em. It gets really wacky when you start talking about people who have experienced damage in certain parts of the brain, and how that affects awareness. There are cases of blind people who respond to visual stimuli – it turns out that their eyes work, and the thalamus and other parts of the brain are still functional, but it’s just the visual cortex that’s on the fritz. They can react to visual stimuli – they just can’t see it.
Yowza.
A closing puzzler…
People seem to have some interesting ideas about consciousness. It’s no secret that it’s a hell of a mystery – known by those in the psychological and philosophical worlds as “The Hard Problem” – but the nature of the mystery is just as interesting as the machinery behind it.
Most people believe, according to polls, that mind (consciousness (awareness (whatever you want to call it))) is greater than the sum of the parts of the brain. They believe that consciousness comes from beyond the fats and proteins in your head. Whether that means a god or some mystical energy field that binds all living things, it points to an external source of somethingness that creates consciousness.
I personally take the “we’re just meat” side of things. I believe that awareness is just an interesting phenomenon of the physical brain. No weird energy fields, auras, or gods for me.
Maybe you don’t care about any of this crap, but I’d be interested to hear what you think about it. I just don’t understand the need to leap to an explanation which suddenly includes unseen forces that aren’t necessary to explain consciousness.