My enquiry into the current revelations of neuroscience is to try and substantiate my own theory, one which not only demystifies consciousness, but rationalises it too with regards to its function. To date, the debate uncomfortably straddles both science and philosophy, and although the former is close to pinpointing physically where the source of consciousness may be centred within the brain, it cannot yet explain the experience or phenomenology that accompanies it. My own view is that we are swimming around in a semantic stew of vocabulary and ideas that are unquantified, yet are relied upon to form the description of that what we’re trying to understand. It’s akin to describing the nature of god, without first asking the more pertinent question of whether he actually exists, or what the evidence is that he does. Just like we all have a general concept of what is meant by god, we also think we know what it means to be conscious, but perhaps therein lies the issue: How can we all be so confident in our interpretation of god, when he doesn’t exist? It’s the language of consciousness that is in itself misleading, hence the lack of any meaningful consensus.

 

If we took away the assumption that our sensual perception is tethered to some kind of experience of that perception, we might limit the confusion. At the moment, interwoven in our ‘experiences’ is the notion of a self that is the subject of those experiences, yet there is no logical reasoning for introducing such an entity, other than for semantic and pragmatic convenience. There is definitely a phenomenon being created within the brain, but we should be careful not to assume that it’s being subjectively experienced.

 

In essence, our brains process information; they are input/output systems built on preprogrammed objectives, just as our bodies are basically biological input/output tubes, albeit complicated ones, with an inherent objective of extracting nutrients to maintain its physiological functionality. In addition to regulating vital aspects of the physical body, the brain’s function is to facilitate the acquisition of those necessary nutrients, and also to satisfy the other fundamental objectives of the preprogrammed system, namely to survive and reproduce by exploiting the given motor and sensory attributes of the body.

 

The brain receives its information via the senses, and subsequent decisions are made by evaluating that information to best navigate the current environment, bound by those fundamental motivations of survival and reproduction. In that regard, our conventional view of consciousness is unnecessary for our bodies and brains to satisfy their natural function, because they are an integrated system with a common objective.

 

The senses provide information which is interpreted by the brain through the complex interaction of nerves and neural processes, and these generate an interpretation of the outside world. It is an unavoidably limited interpretation, but the more comprehensive our sensory input, the more detailed that interpretation will be, allowing for increased prospect of success in satisfying those objectives. So is consciousness a necessary feature for our successful engagement with the world? The brain is ‘aware’ of the flow of information from without, and responds accordingly. A blind person can negotiate their way around an environment by utilising all their other senses, and although it may not be as efficient as it is for a sighted person, the brain still produces an impression of that environment. In the same way, consciousness may afford an addition level of awareness, but not necessarily an essential one.

 

What if evolution provided us with another sense in addition to the five we acknowledge? What if ‘consciousness’ is generated by the augmentation of information that the brain receives through its senses, but in this case, solely through neurological interactions? I think that there is another ‘passive’ sense – in that it has no volition of its own, just like our other senses – but instead of informing us via external stimuli, it reports on brain’s internal activity. Basically it provides the brain with information about itself, and this internal view allows the brain to factor in its own state and intentions when considering an action – something we might refer to as deliberation.

Despite my dislike of metaphors, this internal sense is like a mirror that allows the brain to see itself, and by which it can use that perspective to better respond to its environment, and in that process it creates the phenomenon that we call consciousness.

 

If we walked past a mirror, we might notice a piece of spinach stuck in our teeth, and would therefore be inclined to remove it, and so avoid any embarrassing moments later on. The mirror didn’t actually do anything, nor had it any motivation to inform us of the spinach, it just permitted us to have a perspective that we didn’t otherwise have (an experience), yet it afforded us an advantage. Is there an invisible, mysterious connection between us and the mirror that allowed us that advantage? Of course not. There’s an absolutely satisfactory explanation in how mirrors reflect light, our eyes receive it, and our brains make sense of it – no magic required.

 

The mirror metaphor negates the need for an extra entity to be invoked for the brain to have a certain awareness of itself. The mechanics of the mirror are probably to be found in the neurological complexity of the thalamacortical system, and the distinct way information is exchanged and processed therein, which permits for the feedback loop (reflection) of those neurological processes, giving rise to self awareness, or what we commonly describe as being conscious.

 

We need to define consciousness within the confines of that physical and causal interaction, and not with fanciful descriptions of metaphysical realities. Experience, as described by the ‘hard problem’ may be erroneous, just like god is no longer required when explaining how the universe came to be. Of course this is a reductionist view, but we ought to start from the ground up and progress with caution, rather than starting with an assumed understanding of what we think experience is.

 

So having rationalised experience, we can also dispense with the unnecessary invention of a self. The implications of this material view are profound, but represents a liberation from the unfortunately limited preoccupation we have with our own sense of individual significance, a preoccupation that is undoubtedly the cause of our impending ‘self’ induced demise.

 

Just like religions impose restrictions on how one might engage with the world, a belief in the mind being distinct from the physical body, (dualism), is equally oppressive, and limits our potential to that of one concerned primarily for our own ‘self’, rather than recognising the reality that we are inter-dependent elements, bound together across all time and space. That latter comment is in no regard poetic, but a realisation that we evolved as a feature of the universe, not as the reason for it.