I do not accept 'I think therefore I am'; I do not see how you can assume that thinking necessarily implies a thinker. — Richard Goldstein

I seem to recall Bertrand Russell making the same argument. In proclaiming, "I think, therefore I am," Descartes has snuck "I" in the back door. All he has done with 100% certainty is to demonstrate "thinking" exists -- not "I."

Isn't Frege's distinction between the sense and reference of a singular referring expression (as contrasted with definite descriptions) a good way to express this difference that leads neither to the conflation you are warning about nor to the problems generated by representationalism? — Pierre-Normand

Great analysis and application of Frege. I remember first learning about the Morning Star/Evening Star/Venus when reading about Pythagoras. In discussions such as this, we can "count" on mathematicians! <smile>

If we are to know anything about external objects, then don’t we need to (somehow) have access to that object of knowledge? And to have access, don’t we need a means by which we access it? When we go on a journey by automobile, we need a road to access our destination. So too with knowledge; we need a “road” (or a way) to get it.

Take another example: We solve algebraic problems by adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing. This is the means by which we access – or gain knowledge about – the answer. Note that we do not identify the process of adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing with the answer to the problems – they are merely the means by which we access the answer. Without adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing, we can not have knowledge about (answers to) the problems. They are just the means to obtaining said knowledge.

Is it not similar with sensory perceptions and knowledge about the external world? Aren’t sensory perceptions the means by which we gain access to – and knowledge about – the external world? Surely we should not identify perception of external objects as a direct representation of the objects themselves; nor should we identify perceptions as indirect representations, for that matter. Either one would be akin to conflating process with result; confusing the road with the destination; and identifying addition, subtraction, multiplying and dividing with the solutions of algebraic problems.

In reading this discussion, I’m wondering: Is “anxiety” a condition that strikes only when things are beyond our control? Or is it possible for us to be anxious about something over which we do, in fact, have control?

For example, flying in an airplane can make a passenger anxious because it is the pilot, the airplane’s mechanical integrity, weather, etc. that affect the airplane’s safety – not the passenger. So clearly this is a case where anxiety is the result of (the passenger) being out of control.

But what about being anxious about cooking a meal for someone? Said cook can certainly be anxious that the meal he or she is preparing is worthy of his or her guest. The cook is not worried about the stove exploding, or someone interrupting him or her, or any other outside negative influence. He or she is just anxious about the meal itself – the meal he or she has chosen and planned – all of which he or she controls. This includes what constitutes the meal, which spices to add, how long to cook the food, the presentation and plating, etc.

So although it’s possible to be anxious about things that are beyond one’s control, it seems to be equally possible to be anxious about things that are within one’s control. Lucky for us, anxiety knows no bounds! <smile>

This discussion makes me wonder about something else as well:

Anxiety is often diagnosed and treated as a psychiatric disorder – not a state of ignorance. What I mean is, the reading of stoic philosophers – though enriching and enlightening – may not affect some forms of (psychiatrically diagnosed) anxiety, which are thought to be caused by an imbalance of neurotransmitters. Patients suffering from such forms of anxiety are instead often successfully treated by selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs). So perhaps where philosophy and psychiatry meet is the place where we can see the forest and the trees!

I am reminded of Wittenstein’s “Tractatus,” which on the opening page reads:

“The world is the totality of facts, not of things.”

“Facts,” for example, allow for the recognition of interest rates. Interest rates are arguably real while, at the same time, not regarded as physical objects. But neither are interest rates considered mystical, spiritual or immaterial. After all, interest rates directly affect the amount of money that accumulates in bank accounts. Interestingly, physical events such as hurricanes and war can affect interest rates; and so can non-physical situations such as panic and market conditions. It’s perhaps best to say interest rates are facts, not physical (or immaterial) things.

Another example: “Facts” allow for the recognition of relations without the necessity of assigning “physical (or immaterial) existence” to them. “The back door is to the right of the dining room table” describes the relation of two physical objects to each other. Again, “to the right of,” is a relation and not a physical object; and yet it exists in the world. It’s a fact, not a thing.

Now… bring on the tooth fairy, but leave all your married bachelors at home!

Beverley — Beverley

Thank you for your thoughtful response to my post. Although I also appreciate the input given previously by the other responders, you actually went through (most of) my arguments and replied directly to them, rather than opening up whole new streams of thought – which, again, is great and I appreciate being the catalyst for such streams; but also I was genuinely curious about what people thought (specifically) about my arguments. So I’m grateful you took the time to address them, and I look forward to re-reading and cogitating more on what you have written!

In the meantime, you should know that your mention of Descartes brought a smile to my lips and a song in my heart:

In my view, it is impossible to get around the skeptics’ doubt. Descartes thought he had, but he hadn’t. — Beverley

I remember reading the Cogito decades ago and being really moved by “systemic doubt.” Doubt everything you see, hear, smell, touch, taste and think until you come to a place where doubt is not possible:

I can’t doubt that I’m thinking because ‘doubting’ is, itself, a form of thinking.

It was so cool and impactful that it put a dance in my step all the way from the library to my room.

Unfortunately, my Cartesian bubble was eventually burst (I believe by Bertrand Russell) when I learned that even if doubting/thinking is irrefutable, the “I” is not; Descartes had snuck it in through the back door.

So with that, and while it’s still open, I’ll sneak out the door myself! <smile>

Your original post (and subsequent responses) are very compelling to me, Wayfarer. Well done!

And although the unified nature of our experience of this ‘world-picture’ seems simple and even self-evident, neuroscience has yet to understand or explain how the disparate elements of experience , memory, expectation and judgement, all come together to form a unified whole — even though this is plainly what we experience. — Wayfarer

Too many times when science is challenged, it is on the basis that it is inadequate in some way – that religious faith, for example, is needed to shore up the shortcoming of science to explain how the universe works.

But the inability of neuroscience to explain what we all experience in our respective consciousnesses (e.g., perceptions, pain) is not a shortcoming; it’s simply not the domain of neuroscience. Similarly, the fact that gravity does not rake leaves is not a shortcoming of gravity. Leaf-raking is not relevant to the concept of gravitation.

On the other hand, neuroscience does play a role in our conscious experience. As I’ve written in another Forum discussion, I am unable to project my (conscious) feeling of pain onto a screen for you to experience – even though I am able to project an MRI scan of my brain onto a screen, showing you certain neurological biomarkers that correspond to my feeling of pain. Although I can (scientifically) describe and explain my pain, I am unable to provide you with the experience of my pain. So neuroscience plays a role in all this – just not the only role.

Your thought-experiment was brilliant.

One of the thought-experiments I sometimes consider is imagine having the perspective of a mountain (were a mountain to have senses). As the lifespan of a mountain is hundreds of millions of years, you wouldn't even notice humans and animals, as their appearances and dissappearances would be so ephemeral so as to be beneath your threshold of awareness. Rivers, you'd notice, because they'd stay around long enough to actually carve into you. But people and animals would be ephemera. At the other end of the scale, from the perspective of micro-organisms, humans and animals would be like solar systems or entire worlds. — Wayfarer

The blend of imagination, science and philosophy is both thought-provoking and great fun!

I realize this discussion has taken many twists and turns over the past year, but I keep finding myself wondering about (and coming back to) the same thing:

Is it possible that the intention of subjecting consciousness to the rigors of scientific explanation – though noble and understandable – is misplaced? Are we trying to do something that, in fact, cannot be done?

Consider measurement – a most heralded and essential aspect of science:

How much mass does that planetary body have? What is the wavelength of this color? Does the subatomic particle under investigation have a positive, negative or neutral electric charge? How many milliliters of reagent is in that Griffin beaker?

All these questions make (scientific) sense and can be answered by objective, reproduceable measurement. But I’m wondering if we can meaningfully ascribe measurement to “consciousness.” It seems odd to say, “There are 2.5 milliliters of consciousness here,” or “This consciousness weighs 71 grams,” or “That consciousness is negatively charged.”

Isn’t consciousness different (in kind) from what science investigates? Planets, colors, particles, reagents – these are discrete, objective areas of scientific investigation, whereas consciousness is the underlying, subjective medium through which we access all of these areas.

More to the point: consciousness is, by its nature, entirely subjective and therefore can not be observed and measured like brains can be. Each person uniquely experiences the world (subjectively) through his or her own consciousness.

For example, I am unable to project my (conscious) feeling of pain onto a screen for you to experience – even though I am able to project an MRI scan of my brain onto a screen, showing you certain neurological biomarkers that correspond to my feeling of pain. Although I can (scientifically) describe and explain my pain, I am unable to provide you with the experience of my pain.

It is this subjectivity that differentiates consciousness from scientific investigation. In short, neurophysiology is not consciousness because explanation is not experience.

I found myself nodding at Wayfarer’s take on all this above:

“[N]o objective description of brain-states can convey or capture the first-person nature of experience. The kind of detailed physiological understanding of pain that a pharmacologist or anaestheologist has, is not in itself pain. Knowing about pain is not the same as being in pain.”

It’s really the difference between “explanation” and “experience.”

When we see a red apple and ask, “Why and how can this red apple be seen?” – and we want an explanation – then we can expound on all manner of material stuff (physics and neuroscience). That is, “red” is a certain wave length of light, and to see it requires retinal cone photoreceptors, a visual cortex, etc.

But if we ask the same question, “Why and how can this apple be seen?” – and we want an experience – then we must look at the apple and, assuming there is sufficient light and our eyes and brain are functioning normally, then we have a perception of a red apple. And the only way others can have this experience is for them to look at the apple too – where light is sufficient for them, and their eyes and brains are functioning normally.

Most notably: these conscious experiences – the perception of red apples – are private. No amount of explaining them physically and/or neuroscientifically can do them justice. The fact is, explanations of phenomena – no matter how accurate – are not the same as the experiences of these same phenomena. Someone else, although able to have their own visual perceptions, are unable to have mine. Similarly, only they can actually feel their own physical pain, while I can only feel mine. Again, we can explain how these perceptions and feelings occur via physics, neurochemistry and neurophysiology, but knowing about these explanations are not the same thing as having them (to paraphrase Wayfarer above).

And by the way, this is not to imply that there is something mystical going on here, or that consciousness is necessarily some sort of spiritual or immaterial substance. Maybe it's just a fact of biological existence that experience (consciousness) is private, whereas explanations of experience are (or can be) public. (?)

In any event: explanation is not experience.