The ‘what it’s like-ness’ is a kind of term of art in the philosophy of mind that merely highlights that there is a subjective experience associated with being in a certain state; then, it’s like something to be in that state. It doesn’t mean that there is some fixed reference to which an experience must be comparable; indeed, a new experience is by definition not like anything you’ve experienced before, but there’s nevertheless something it’s like to have that experience.
(Besides, your ‘new emotion’ can’t have been wholly unlike any other emotions: otherwise, you would not have recognized it as an emotion—it must have had some property of being emotion-like in order for you to do that.)
But this way round, it’s not grounded; having an illusion is itself an experience.
But if we can differentiate that from a real headache, which you’re saying we can (it’s just something ‘akin’ to one), then of course we’re not under the illusion of having a headache.
Yes, it seems that a lot of the time our conscious experience seems to be observing our behaviour, like a film critic watching a film. This might be a result of the apparent fact that we continually verbalise our interior monolog. Presumably this has to involve sending our experiences to the language centres in our brain - a detour that takes a finite amount of time.
Of course there isn’t always time for this interior verbalisation, especially if you are performing rapid physical actions - you can’t run, or juggle, thinking ‘now the left leg, now the right leg’ or ‘left hand, right hand’ all the time, or you’ll drop the balls or fall over.
How do verbalise our interior monologue when we are to young to have language skills yet? Surely we are conscious, but perhaps just not fluent in verbalisation yet. That’s one reason I think my car is conscious; she may not reason out her actions in English, but she is certainly awareness of what’s going on and acts accordingly.
But of course, this appearance can’t be quite how things really are: if our experience is generated by the internal film critic, then it seems that experience needs somebody/something assessing and interpreting it; but then, how does the interior film critic do the assessing and interpreting? By himself producing an inner matinee, with its own little film critic?
This sort of idea is what gives rise to the famous, yet still omnipresent, fallacy of the homunculus.
If the internal monologue is produced by the language-related regions of the brain after the event, then it may well appear to be a subjective, theatre-like process. We do things, then we think about them afterwards. How many times does your internal monologue tell you - ‘I wish I hadn’t done that’ or ‘what was I thinking?’.
The regions of our mind that use formal logic and ethics are almost certainly closely bound to the language centres, so we are pretty much doomed to reacting to our brain’s impulsive actions, unless we can take the time to process our decisions beforehand.
I’m sure that many animals have some measure of consciousness, which makes eating them a moderately difficult ethical choice. Almost all the problems of philosophy arise from regions of the brain associated with language, I’m pretty sure.
This does not need to be spoken language, however. Social animals like chimps face many difficult problems in their society which revolve around the relationships between different individuals and various social metrics; they often resolve these using non-verbal communication. No wonder chimps always look slightly puzzled.
Sometimes I have an internal monologue, about certain things, for many things and for much of the time I do not have an internal monologue, usually it’s more imagery-like thought processes.
I think different people are different in this respect.
Well yes, but I’m just saying that it can’t be the internal monologue, or any other internal representation, that makes us be conscious of whatever it’s talking about—because we’re conscious of the monologue itself, and how could we be in such a case?
The internal monologue depends on language acquisition. If consciousness is a function of being able to carry on an internal monologue, is it fair to say that one who has no language skills has no consciousness? If not, then we must conclude that consciousness is independent of language acquisition.
If a thread has not been posted to in close to a month, is it still alive? If a person is immersed in a daydream whole at work, are they still conscious?
That’s something to ponder, Eburacum45. We rely very much on our senses in formulating a consciousness; what happens if one or more of those senses is compromised? I’d like to believe that language is one of the ways consciousness expresses itself, yet it is not the only or even the most important way. Perhaps empathy is a component of this.
Can a person be conscious in a sensory deprivation tank? That was one of the concepts explored in the novel Altered States, by Paddy Chayefsky, wherein physical changes accompanied mental changes in a subject’s state of consciousness under certain kinds of hallucinogenic influences.
Never read the book…what kind of physical changes would occur under sensory deprivation? Was Chayefsky talking about cell loss in certain sections of the brain…or somebody growing a third arm?
In my opinion, someone under strict sensory deprivation would slowly lose consciousness. He’d sleep more and more, with dreams that became more and more abstract, until he fell into a vegetative state.
In the book and film he devolves into a more primitive state, sort of like a wolf man. It’s pretty far-fetched, but it did make me wonder what a person’s consciousness might be like in an isolation tank.
Going for a walk in the fields makes me less conscious! I fall into more autonomous patterns of thought and behavior. To begin with, I’m walking. It’s a hypnotic, rhythmic, routine behavior that I don’t think about very much.
The whole experience of being outdoors and enjoying nature is soothing, somewhat trancelike. It allows one to submerge the conscious mind. It’s very relaxing.
It can be punctuated with acutely conscious moments, such as when you see a rattlesnake – or just look over a particularly lovely landscape.
But oneness with nature is the opposite of enhanced consciousness.
Consciousness is increased with concentration. Solving a crossword puzzle raises consciousness.
I prefer Sudoku myself. Total immersion style problem solving. However, I’m not that’s what consciousness really is either. I get the sense this article is talking about more of a transcendent kind if consciousness, some call it a higher consciousness, as opposed to more if a self-consciousness, where we often find ourselves, sort of preoccupied with the task at hand but maybe missing out on the bigger picture. Maybe “consciousness” just has different meanings. For example, if it means “to be aware” then it certainly has different kinds of meaning for the auto mechanic changing a head gasket, the painter immersed in getting the right details on the building and the guy who just discovered the rattlesnake. If I take the Eckhart Tolle route, I’m guessing it has something to do with complete focus on what I am doing right now instead of thinking about the past or future.
