[1]
ABSTRACT: The Science of Consciousness (SOC) is continuous with everyday
thinking and with other scientific specialities in beginning inevitably
with the inquiring subject's own conscious experiencing. This does not lead
to solipsism, because the hypothesis of an independently existing world
is the best hypothesis to explain the facts of subjective experience. SOC
is unique among all ways of knowing in needing to be fully critical, not
simply as academic philosophy is by conceptualizing the structure of conscious
inquiry, but by being reflectively aware of consciousness as such, the womb
from which inquiry is born. Therefore, in SOC the scientist and the philosopher
merge. Initially, this reflective awareness means being open to experiencing
non- naturalistic as well as naturalistic claims, altered states of consciousness
as well as ordinary ones. It is an empirical issue, not to be decided a
priori by some empiricist commitment, whether such non-naturalistic claims
and altered states actually exist and what their relevance is to understanding
consciousness.
KEYWORDS: consciousness, subjectivity, objectivity, epistemology, concentration,
mindfulness, science, altered states, empiricism, scientific methodology,
non-empirical knowledge, critique, pragmatic naturalism
-------------------------------------------------------------------
[2]
This article began with the title, 'A Methodology for the 1st-Person Science
of Consciousness.' However, I soon realized that the methodology I was formulating
was no different from that used in science generally. Whether inquiring
into neural, behavioral, cognitive, or social systems, or consciousness
itself, scientists
inevitably begin with their personal experiencing (n 1) and make factual
claims (n 2) (hereafter, claims) about experience which have implications
beyond it and which are tested against certain constraints. Specific differences
in perceptual discrimination, conceptualization, and experimental manipulation
arise as inquiries become increasingly sophisticated and specialized. This
article therefore formulates a methodology for the science of consciousness
(hereafter, SOC) by first placing it within a general methodology of science
and then identifying the specialized skills and techniques required to explore
1st-person consciousness or experiencing.
[3]
The general argument is this. We must first distinguish between our experiencing,
our experience (what we are experiencing), and our claims about it (knowledge)
(n 3), so we can understand the ground on which science builds. Then we
can see how science involves experiencing and knowing that are only different
in degree from our ordinary, daily experiencing and knowing. From that perspective,
we can flesh out the specific experiential (1st- person) skills the inquirer
into consciousness needs to generate and identify relevant data, the specific
conceptual skills needed to hypothesize about the data, and the specific
evaluation skills needed to test hypotheses. My aim is to formulate a general
framework sufficiently plausible and useful that a critical mass of consciousness
scientists will use it to move their inquiries forward rather than endlessly
debate fundamentals. In fact, a partially explicit framework is already
operating. My aim here is to render it more explicit and to provide some
support for its feasibility.
I. Experiencing, Experience, and Knowledge
[4]
Science, like the rest of our knowledge, begins with experiencing (the conscious
awareness of) something (experience), taken as broadly as possible (n 4).
Though this triadic formulation is awkward compared to the traditional one
of stating simply that knowledge begins with experience, by including experiencing
it has the virtue of calling to our attention that what is known is known
through activity of the knowing subject. The raditional formulation, on
the other hand, lends itself to the objectivist illusion that somehow we
know things in a way that is unaffected by our experiencing it, things as
they are 'already out there'.
[5]
Experience is therefore immediate; it is given in our experiencing. However,
it is not some fundamental given about which we cannot be mistaken and upon
which knowledge is built as upon an unshakable foundation. It is not necessarily
'pure' experience devoid of any claim. It is merely a humble starting point.
It may be as simple as a visual field completely filled with undifferentiated
redness, as complex as parents' feelings on the birth of their first child,
or as sophisticated as reading *The Waste Land*. In other words, an experience
may itself be composed of claims - for example, my conscious belief that
I am typing into a computer disk that exists independently of me can itself
be an experience, if by reflection I make it an object of my awareness (as
I am doing in the very act of writing this sentence). 'Experience' is therefore
not an absolute term, but is correlative to 'experiencing'. It is also correlative
to 'claim' insofar as it is that about which a claim is made.
[6]
*Knowledge* is sometimes predicated of experiencing, sometimes of reports
(in this article, 1st-person unless explicitly stated otherwise) about experience,
and sometimes of true claims (in this article, 3rd-person unless explicitly
stated otherwise) based on experience. Thus, we say we have known pain,
meaning that we have experienced pain. Or we report to others that we are
experiencing pain, and we characterize the basis of our report as privileged
knowledge because only we can feel our own pain. Or we claim that someone
else is in pain, saying we know it from their (n 5) behavior. The differences
between these kinds of knowledge are crucial to develop a valid and useful
methodology for SOC.
[7]
Consider my experiencing pain. I cannot be mistaken about either the experiencing
or the experience themselves, because they are simply what they are; no
claim is yet being made about them (n 6). Therefore, to say that my experiencing
is knowledge is simply to equate the two words. Before I can be mistaken,
I must claim something, which I do only in a report or in a 3rd-person claim.
I can *express* my pain by grimace, gesture, or word. And I can do so untruthfully
if I simulate being in pain when I'm not; or I can do
so ineptly, if I am an insufficiently skilled actor. But I cannot be mistaken
in my expression, since it is not a claim.
[8]
Now consider my report to others that I am in pain. Like experiencing, it
exists in a 1st-person perspective; for I'm reporting on my own experiencing.
Like experiencing, it is privileged knowledge, since for the same reason
that no one else can have my pain, neither can they give a report of my
pain (n 7). Unlike experiencing, however, and also unlike an expression,
my report can be false, since it is a claim (1st-person) about a state of
affairs - namely, that I am in pain. Unlike a claim, a report is about an
experience to which others in principle cannot have access - that is, they
cannot experience my pain. For that reason, a report cannot be mistaken,
except incidentally. Perhaps I think the correct English word is 'rain'
and tell you that I am in rain. Or, through a slip of the tongue, I tell
you that I am in Spain. And there are odd feelings I may have which I am
unsure whether to call painful or not. In all these cases, my mistake is
not about the experience itself, but only what to call it. Finally, I can
report a false memory - for example, that I had a toothache last Monday.
In that case, however, I'm not mistaken that I recall having a toothache
last Monday; hat is simply my memory-experience. Rather, what is mistaken
is my 1st- person claim that is part of this particular memory that I am
experiencing. In short, my memory may be mistaken, but not my experiencing
of that memory.
[9]
In contrast to experiencing and reports, *claims* go beyond my experience
to assert some state of affairs distinct from the experience itself. For
example, based on my experiencing you bent over, grimacing, and groaning,
I claim that you are experiencing pain. Or, based on my feeling forced to
move out of the way or of forcing other objects out of the way, I claim
that whenever anything moves, some force made it do so. It is precisely
this gap between experience and claims about it that allows claims to be
mistaken. >From this perspective, the 'hard' problem of consciousness
(Chalmers 1995, 1997) is first the *epistemological* one of hat justification
there is for making (3rd-person) claims based on (1st- person) experiencing.
The *ontological* 'hard' problem of how conscious things (processes, events,
agents, activities, functions, etc.) emerge from unconscious things is a
separate issue which this article will not address.
II. Three Kinds of Claim
[10]
*Naturalistic claims* (hereafter, claims) are, as already indicated, about
experience taken very broadly. The preceding section has distinguished them
from experiencing itself and reports about experience. *Non-naturalistic
claims* (hereafter, n-claims) are especially likely to be found in moral
and religious discourse. An example of a moral n-claim might be that killing
is wrong, where the predicate 'wrong' is not based on any experience (for
example, the unwanted consequences of killing), but on a uniquely moral
intuition. Similarly, an example of a religious n-claim might be that a
personal, loving God exists, an assertion not based on experience (for example,
motion or conditional existents, or some mystical union), but on a uniquely
religious, spiritual, or mystical insight or intuition. *Equivocal claims*
(hereafter, e-claims) are assertions whose meaning is unclear. An example
of an e-claim is that I dissolved into oneness with the universe (hereafter,
DO). Perhaps the e-claim is an assertion expressed poetically by default,
as the best I could do to express my experience. In that case, it may be
relatively easy to determine what was originally intended (I as aware of
nothing but being conscious; or, I felt no emotional distance between me
and the universe - it was a feeling of complete rapport). On the other hand,
the e-claim may not be primarily an assertion at all, but a purely poetic
expression of a particular experience. In this case, a report or claim may
be culled from the expression, not as if it were originally intended, but
as a report or claim that is consistent with it. Thus, in making the e-
claim DO, I may have been expressing a poetic intuition which brings together
numerous experiences and claims about which I am, as a poet, unconcernedly
unaware. In that case, it is meaningless to ask what I originally intended,
though we could argue certain claims are consistent with my poetic expression
(that I felt complete rapport with the universe is consistent with DO).
1. Naturalistic Claims
[11]
A clear and correct understanding of two characteristics of claims are critical
for SOC: (1) they go beyond experience, yet (2) are constrained by it. Thus,
if I see a red apple, I go beyond that particular experience by tying it
through memory to other experiences and supposing that the apple is of a
particular structure that exists independently of me. What is problematic
is my going beyond the original perception at all. The justification for
doing so cannot be in terms of formal logic, since, by definition, claims
assert facts not entailed by experience itself. Nor will appeals to inductive
logic help, since the latter does not try to justify going beyond experience
as such, but at best only identifies constraints within which doing so should
occur. The justification is pragmatic: it works. Yes, it is theoretically
possible that my experience is the result of a deceptive demon, but mankind
has survived and in some ways progressed by moving from experiences to claims
about them that assume an independently existing world. In addition, though
theoretical alternatives to realism, such as the deceptive demon, have been
proposed, there are no verified instances of anyone actually living and
thinking according to their dictates.
[12]
The second characteristic of claims that is critical to understand in what
sense they are constrained by *experience, not by an independently existing
reality*. Consider, for example, my conviction that I am now seeing and
feeling an apple that would continue to exist if I dropped dead this second.
*Epistemologically,
my experience of the apple is *given within my consciousness* as a constraint
on my claim. That is, I experience the apple as something any claim must
'match' in order to be correct. This experience is composed of my current
perception combined through memory with a host of past experiences. It is
to account for and make use of this complex, subjective experience that
I claim this apple exists independently of me. Once I have accepted that
claim of an independently existing apple, I can argue *ontologically* that
the apple constrains my claim by causing those experiences in the first
place. In short, claims are constrained epistemologically by my experience
and ontologically by the causes of my experience.
2. Non-naturalistic Claims
[13]
N-claims pose at least two problems for SOC, epistemological and ontological.
*Epistemologically*, since n-claims are not claims about experience, they
cannot be directly criticized by any science that is about experience. For
science as so defined can only pit one claim about experience against another.
Still, since hose who make n-claims are conscious of them, science can study
them as another experience. In other words, though science cannot epistemologically
evaluate n-claims, it can study their *ontology*. Thus, it might be able
to establish non-epistemological criteria for determining whether they are
delusions, wishful thinking, conjectures, knowledge, etc. Of course, it
must be careful not to argue circularly that n-claims are in some way pathological
because they are not based on experience. Instead, it must tie them, if
possible, to behavior assessed as pathological on independent grounds. For
example, my n-claim that I am Napoleon could be assessed as delusional,
not because I refuse to accept counter- evidence (for example, that Napoleon
died a while back), but because of the counter-evidence itself. In other
words, the facts about Napoleon indicate that I am at least mistaken, and
further facts about my behavior (and perhaps in the future, neural processes)
indicate that I am more than simply mistaken, but delusional. A really critical
(in the Kantian sense) SOC will be careful to articulate just what assumptions
help create that evidence so as to avoid ethnocentric question-begging from
the perspective of ordinary consciousness.
3. Equivocal Claims
[14]
E-claims pose problems for SOC similar to n-claims. Like the latter, they
exist in some people's minds and are therefore experiences whose ontology
can be studied by SOC. *Epistemologically*, they are more complex than n-claims.
Let's return to DO (my saying that I dissolved into oneness with the universe).
We can try to understand this as text and through my own report. As text,
we can look at the context in which DO exists: the immediate context, through
the more remote context of my Collected Sayings, to the most remote context
of my era and culture. We can compare its form with other e-claims to see
if perhaps we can determine if DO is poetic expression only, a poetic expression
with imbedded assertion, or an out-and-out claim or n- claim. Using my own
*report*, the SOC investigator can ask me what I meant by DO. Perhaps I
can straightforwardly and less ambiguously express my original intention.
For example, I might report that when I said DO I was just expressing how
I felt; or that I meant that literally the universe and I were one; or that
I meant that I felt a wonderful rapport with everything while simultaneously
being conscious of being distinguishable from everything else. On the other
hand, perhaps I myself do not know what I meant and
must join with the investigator in treating DO as text for both of us to
understand.
[15]
Because of the unique fact that reflecting on consciousness changes it,
reports are peculiarly difficult to use as data. For example, suppose the
SOC researcher asks me what I meant by DO and I reply that I meant the universe
and I were literally one. Then the researcher , seeking clarification, says,
'By that, do you mean something different from saying that you felt a wonderful
rapport with the universe?' I might reply that I didn't mean that at all.
I might also reply, 'Oh yes, that's exactly what I meant!', in a way that
makes it seem likely that the researcher really helped me explain myself.
But I might also agree with their prodding in a way that raises the question
of whether the researcher's suggestion has just distorted the evidence.
Clearly, getting me to clarify my report in a way that does not alter the
nature of the original report is a tricky enterprise. Yet it seems equally
clear that a conceptually sophisticated subject might report their experience
differently from a naive one.
III. The Science of Consciousness
[16]
It seems generally accepted that, in rough outline, we know how to make
and test claims about mental activity. That is the 'easy' problem (Chalmers
1995, 1996, 1997), to which this article contributes nothing except the
perspective introduced above. Neither will it address the ontological hard
problem of how conscious mental activities emerge from unconscious realities.
Instead, I will spend the rest of the time on the middle problem of *phenomenology*,
by which I mean a study of the structure of consciousness (conscious awareness),
as opposed to the contents of consciousness. The difficulties that destroyed
introspectionism at the turn of the century (Guzeldere 1995) stemmed from
its trying to map the contents of consciousness like entomologists trying
to identify every species of insect. By now, however, it is crystal clear,
if it wasn't then, that the contents of consciousness are unlimited, created
as they are by the interaction of environment, psychophysiological structures,
conceptualization, and reflective awareness. In short, the introspective
project of mapping all possible conscious states is even worse that trying
to identify all insect species; it is more like a cartographer trying to
map all the constantly shifting grains of sand on earth. Therefore, the
more feasible path for SOC to follow is to search for invariants within
consciousness, three of which are attention, conceptualization, and reflection.
1. Attention
[17]
The most obvious form of attention is focusing one's awareness on some content
or another. Thus, with my eyes on this computer screen, I can focus on the
screen or I can turn my attention to the sound of the car starting up outside
my window. Or, I can focus on the color of the type or on the shape of the
letters. Similarly, I can focus on a musical phrase, on a single note, on
pitch, loudness, timbre, etc. This sort of attention is characteristic of
ordinary practical living and science. Describing our experience in this
way is sometimes called phenomenology, which in this sense is synonymous
with description.
[18]
On the other hand, I can focus on the process of focusing itself, *reflective
attention*. Thus, instead of focusing on the screen before me, I focus on
my seeing of the screen. This is not the same as noticing that my eyes are
directed toward the screen, my neck bent toward it, etc. All those things
are contents of various awarenesses I have; focusing on them would be ordinary
attention. Reflective attention shifts my focus from the content to the
seeing itself (n 8). Notice that it *shifts* my focus, it does not withdraw
it. I am still aware of the screen, but now at the periphery. Reflective
attention is characteristic of phenomenology in its technical, philosophical
sense, which is how this article uses the term.
2. Conceptualization
[19]
Before we claim something about our experience, we must conceptualize it,
since it is the conceptualization of our experience that we assert when
we make a claim. As mentioned above, this does not assume that experience
is a pure given, unadulterated by human categories. Experience and conceptualization
are correlative. Whatever the experience, however complex and filled with
conceptualizations it may be, it must be further conceptualized before we
can claim something about it. Thus, I may conceptualize a particular rendition
of Beethoven's Eroica as dynamic and claim that it is the most dynamic rendition
I have heard. The experience referred to may itself involve an incredible
cluster of conceptualizations and claims, to which is added the conceptualization
of the performance as more dynamic than any other and the claim that that
is so. My experience is then changed: it is one thing to listen to dynamic
music and another to listen to it while thinking of it as the most dynamic
I have ever heard. The reverse can also occur: I can be initially excited
by a hyped-up event and then come down when I realize the degree to which
I was responding to the hype. In short, experiencing can be constructed
or deconstructed.
[20]
Like attention, conceptualization can be unreflective or reflective. The
example of conceptualizing Beethoven's *Eroica* as dynamic was unreflective.
Discussing the experience, making an example of it, was reflective.
3. Reflection
[21]
The self-reflective nature of the phenomenology of consciousness is found
in reflective attention and reflective conceptualization. I must not just
be conscious. I must not just be conscious of something. I must be conscious
of consciousness itself (reflective attention). Similarly, I must not just
think. I must not just think about something. And I must not just think
about my own thinking (meta-theory). I must be aware of as well as think
about my thinking process (phenomenology of consciousness: reflective attention
combined with reflective conceptualization).
4. A Conceptual Map of the Science of Consciousness
[22]
The following map does not intend to be exhaustive, but identifies the major
methodologies of SOC and their interrelationships.
*Phenomenology*: a reflective study of the conscious processes, states,
or events from which all knowing emerges.
*Science*: the set of all claims, along with their attendant methodologies,
about the contents of experience. Thus broadly conceived, science includes
ordinary claims, which differ only in degree of sophistication.
*Everyday Science*: our ordinary, relatively naive way of thinking about
our world. This includes Folk Psychology: our ordinary, relatively naive
way of thinking about our thinking.
*Neuroscience*: the systematic study of the physical and biological, especially
the neural, contributions to mental operations, both conscious and unconscious.
*Behavioral Science*: the systematic study of human behaviors.
*Cognitive Science*: the systematic study of mental functions, both conscious
and unconscious.
*Social Science*: the systematic study of human interactions.
SOC is, then, composed of the phenomenology of consciousness plus the sciences
insofar as they tell us something about consciousness.
[23]
The more sophisticated the inquirer, the more aware they are of their processes
of inquiry. Therefore, the more sophisticated the science, the more phenomenologically
grounded, culminating in SOC. At an elemental level, phenomenology and science
can pretty much go their separate ways. For example, I can now a lot about
apples without reflecting on my consciousness of apples. However, we are
at a point in history where the two are intimately entwined. In physics,
quantum mechanics raises the question of the relationship between observer
and observed, an issue even more obvious in the social sciences. In biotechnology,
we are developing the ability to affect our consciousness in ways we do
not yet understand - and not through mind-altering drugs only, but perhaps
more profoundly through genetically reengineering the ground of our consciousness.
[24]
Beyond the yin and yang dance of phenomenology and the ordinary claims of
science lie n-claims and e-claims. They are related to SOC both causally
and epistemologically. They are related *causally* in that, for all we know
at this stage, an increasingly realized SOC may be used to induce certain
n-claims and e-claims as part of altered states of consciousness. They are
related *epistemologically* in that an increasingly realized SOC may enable
us indirectly to assess their veridicality. Consider two hypothetical scenarios.
[25]
The first scenario involves my n-claim DO (I dissolved into oneness with
the universe). By definition, an n-claim asserts some sort of insight into
reality, but is not a claim based on experience. Since I am not basing my
assertion on experience, science cannot directly disconfirm it. That, however,
is not the end of the story. *Behavioral science* can run me through various
assessments to determine if there are independent grounds for thinking that
I am delusional, prone to wishful thinking, prone to unfounded speculation,
or usually realistic in my assertions. The results can provide some grounds
for estimating under which one of those possibilities my n-claim may fall.
*Cognitive Science* can try to determine if n-claims are inconsistent with
what we know about mental functioning, at least compatible with it, or perhaps
even serving some specific function. *Neuroscience* may someday identify
the brain-site of my n-claim and on that basis draw some conclusions about
its nature. For example, it might find that in spite of my report that this
is truly an n-claim that has no reference to experience, in fact the neural
processes that constitute my n-claim function in a network that includes
experience-related processes, such that it is reasonable to assume that
I am simply not aware of the experiential roots of my claim and that the
alleged n-claim it not really an n-claim at all. On the other hand, neuroscience
may be unable to find any neural site for n-claims, with its inability of
such a nature that suggests that my n-claim is indeed a conscious event
independent of ordinary experience and even of the brain. Finally, social
science may similarly employ its particular expertise to determine possible
sociocultural factors that could explain my n-claim.
[26]
The second scenario involves my e-claim DO. By definition, an e-claim is
associated with some experience, but is unclear as to whether it is purely
poetic expression or poetic expression by default, as the best I could do
to articulate my experience. From the viewpoint of SOC, *purely poetic expression*
is a prolific womb from which many claims can be delivered. The strength
of poetry is its ability to use language to express an intuition whose constitutive
experiences and claims can only be guessed, since the poet was never aware
of them, nor cared to be, in the first place. Its weakness for SOC purposes
is that the precise nature of the embedded experiences and claims can therefore
never be completely articulated. Indeed, it is questionable whether SOC
can really say that any particular interpretation is part of a poetic expression's
meaning, only that the expression brings to mind this or that experience
or claim. Thus, as stated earlier, the best we can say of DO as purely poetic
expression is that my feeling complete rapport with the universe is one
meaning that is consistent with DO.
[27]
On the other hand, it is possible that DO is a *poetic expression by default*,
that it was simply the best I could do. In that case, it may be possible
to identify whatever claims I originally intended to make. Perhaps I can
upon reflection be certain that I did not mean that the universe and I are
literally one and the same. What then did I mean? Perhaps it is now clear
to me that I meant to say that I felt a complete rapport with the universe.
Or perhaps I still can't say just what I meant, in which case the best we
can do may be to treat DO as purely poetic expression and limit ourselves
to articulating possible meanings that are consistent with it.
5. Altered States of Consciousness
[28]
I'm contrasting altered states of consciousness (hereafter, ACS) with normal
or ordinary states (hereafter, OCS) in a descriptive sense only: the latter
are normal only in being the most usual; nothing is assumed ahead of time
as to the relative superiority of one state over another. Thus, ordinary
waking is OCS, whereas dreaming and DO are ACS. *Ontologically*, SOC inquires
as to the nature, cause, and effects of ACS. *Epistemologically*, SOC inquires
as to their veridicality, and must do so in a way that begs no questions,
as we have already seen with regard to n-claims. The challenge to SOC is
that ACS may involve experiences inaccessible to OCS, not only in that the
researcher in OCS may not have the experience and therefore have no 1st-person
empathy for it, but those who are in ACS may be unable to convey the nature
of their experience in language that is intelligible to the researcher in
OCS. The even greater challenge is that ACS may involve special knowledge
that is inaccessible to OCS.
[29]
In other words, state-specific sciences (hereafter, SSS) may be possible
(Tart 1972), sciences with both experiences and methodologies peculiar to
particular conscious states (hereafter, CS). From this perspective, SOC
is a SSS peculiar to OCS. In his article, Tart was intent on expanding the
notion of empirical science so that it included ACS experiences and methodologies.
He never entertained the possibility of n-claims or knowledge not based
on experience of any kind. But just as Tart correctly argues that we cannot
arbitrarily restrict science to OCS, so too do I take that logic to its
limit and argue that we cannot arbitrarily restrict knowledge to claims
based on experience.
[30]
Does this open the door to irrationalism? Not at all. Researchers in OCS
are not reduced to helplessly wringing their hands while alleged ACS gurus
seemingly jabber on. We have already seen there are indirect, but non-question-begging
ways, to evaluate n-claims and e-claims made from within OCS. In principle,
we can extend these methods to claims of any kind made from within ACS.
However, we cannot know a priori the extent to which we will come to satisfactory
conclusions. There may be instances where, unless we get in it ourselves,
we will simply not know what to make of a particular CS and the claims made
about it. Of course, this leaves the door slightly ajar for the irrationalist
to operate with impunity. But we cannot anticipate closing the door completely,
unless we are dogmatic empiricists who insist that no dogmatism but ours
is to be countenanced.
[31]
My own bias is that there is nothing to be learned from n- claims, that
all knowledge is about experience of some sort. However, SOC above all sciences
cannot foreclose this possibility at the outset. For being concerned with
consciousness itself, SOC must be open not only to its assumptions, but
also to its possible experiences, one of which is knowledge that is not
experience- based. My further bias is that there are no SSS other than SOC,
which is why I made this article about the SOC, rather than a SOC. Nevertheless,
SOC above all sciences cannot foreclose this possibility at the outset.
[32]
Anchored as it is in phenomenology, SOC must be aware not only of its assumptions,
but of the consciousness from which all assumptions arise. Such awareness
takes the SOC researcher beyond critically knowing that all claims rest
on assumptions, to dynamically experiencing the difference between consciousness
itself and the process of making assumptions. In its furthest reaches, SOC
takes us beyond an analytical understanding of knowledge as 'a theory about
thinking' to a richer experience of our own consciousness of which thinking
and doing is only a part. In other words, SOC ultimately transforms us so
that we experience our environment and ourselves differently, no longer
identified with and clinging to the particular ways in which we think and
act.
6. Objectivity
[33]
Because objectivity is so often identified with the 3rd-person perspective,
we must be very clear what sort of objectivity is required and possible
in the 1st-person phenomenology of SOC. We can take our cue from 3rd-person
claims, since we have seen that they are built on 1st-person experience.
Few seriously hold that absolute objectivity is possible. Instead, most
reflective writers today hold a position on objectivity that is roughly
like this. We have objective knowledge when certain conditions of observation
are satisfied. Anyone meeting those conditions will make the same claims
that we do. Thus, you and I can agree that this type is black even though
I am listening to the hum of my computer and you are listening to voices
in the background. The relevant conditions have nothing to do with our hearing,
but are that your and my seeing apparatuses are functional and that there
is sufficient light for each of us. In short, objective knowledge is *relative*
to the conditions of observation, but objective in that when those conditions
are met we can agree on certain claims. Our knowledge is not only objective,
but *critical*, when we not only satisfy the conditions of observation but
know what they are. Thus, naive subjects in normal conditions can have objective
knowledge of apples, but only reflective subjects who know what those normal
conditions are have critical objective knowledge. That is, their claims
not only *happen* to be correct, but their knowledge of the conditions that
enable those claims to be made correctly enable them to assess the likelihood
that those claims are indeed true.
[34]
Applying this principle to (1st-person) phenomenology is straightforward
though more subtle. Since claims are built on experience, the conditions
that enable them to be made are never exclusively 3rd-person. *Certain conditions
within consciousness itself (1st-person conditions) must also obtain*. Thus,
in the example just above, not only must your and my seeing apparatuses
be functional and there be sufficient light for each of us (3rd-person conditions);
we must each be paying sufficient attention to, and thinking clearly about,
what is before our eyes (two 1st-person conditions). In other words, the
first two invariants of consciousness, attention and conceptualization,
must be operative. In our unreflective consciousness, we trust they are
operating adequately, since we usually get things right. However, in cases
of uncertainty we resort to reflection, the third invariant of consciousness,
to check whether the necessary conditions (1st- person as well as 3rd-person)
for objective knowledge are truly met. Of course, this opens up a house
of mirrors, since we can ask if our reflection is adequate, and thus reflect
on our reflection. Logically, this can go on forever. Personally, however,
I find that I can only go to two levels; that is, I can only reflect on
my reflection; after that, it is only words. Scientifically, we can determine
how far humans can actually go. In any case, there is no epistemological
stopping point at which we can be assured that the conditions for objective
knowledge have been satisfied. Reflection only reduces the possibility of
error, never eliminates it.
[35]
The preceding reveals why it is a mistake to confuse objectivity with non-belief
or non-participation, as in arguing that researchers cannot be objective
students of a religion they believe in, or of their own culture, with the
absurd conclusion that only non-believers can really know about religion
or non-participants can really know about a group's culture. Objectivity
depends on conditions being satisfied such that correct claims can be made.
Researchers who are believers and participants in the group they are studying
can determine as well as anyone else whether 3rd-person conditions are satisfied.
Of course, they are biased in their examination of those conditions; but
non-believers and non-participants are not unbiased, only biased in different
ways. The fact that they are all biased, whether in the group or out, does
not condemn them to wanton subjectiveness. Through their interaction, and
through each researcher's reflection on their own inquiry, they can reduce
bias.
[36]
The error that objectivity requires non-belief and non-participation stems
from the notion of an objectivity which is exclusive of subjectivity, of
an objectivity which excludes the activity of the inquiring subject. This
is a psychological illusion, because knowledge does not occur independently
of knowing subjects. It is also an epistemological illusion, because it
unrealistically demands that objectivity be free of all possibility of error.
This was Descartes' mistake, not that he began with consciousness, for where
else can any of us begin, but that he sought a foundation free of all doubt.
In contrast, the human fact is that we generally get our claims right, at
least enough of them that the human race has survived and in some ways progressed
up to this point. We do not require infallibility, only sufficient correctness
to keep the system going. We achieve this correctness on two levels: naively,
we are constructed in relation to our environment such that the conditions
are sufficiently met for making correct claims; reflectively, we become
aware of those conditions and improve our performance, reducing our errors
and learning more.
7. The Skills of the Scientist of Consciousness
[37]
Scientists of consciousness will have to have the skills of their particular
specialty. Since the skills required of behavioral, cognitive, neural, and
social scientists are relatively straightforward (being involved in the
'easy' problem), I'll dwell only on the phenomenological skills required
of SOC: attentional, conceptual, and reflective.
[38]
*Attentionally*, scientists of consciousness cannot remain satisfied with
a scientific study of processes, states, or events that is limited to 3rd-person
claims, even if those claims can explain how consciousness arises. For we
have seen that those claims are based on 1st-person experience, so that
a fully critical, a fully reflective - indeed, a fully conscious - SOC must
understand the structure of experience in order to understand fully the
nature of any claim made about consciousness. Since an understanding of
experience requires a reflective experiencing of experience, scientists
of consciousness must have the skills required for r-attention, which must
extend from OCS to ACS (n 9).
[39]
*Conceptually*, scientists of consciousness must understand (r-conceptualize)
the difference between experience and knowledge, between what is presented
and what is claimed about it. This involves understanding the tricky contrast
between the subjective and the objective, which derives from classical errors
of perception. Thus, I see a stick partly immersed in water as bent and
discover on pulling it out of the water that it is really straight. I conclude
that the bent stick is "merely my subjective impression," whereas
in fact the stick is "objectively straight." The traditional model
(OM = objectivity model) that accounts for this supposes we correct our
errors by measuring our subjective impressions against objective reality.
The problem, of course, is that doing that is a subjective activity, and
activity of the experiencing subject. One response has gravitated to SM
(a subjectivity model), arguing that subjectivity is prior to objectivity.
We begin with our own subjective impressions. The problem here has been
that there is no logical necessity that subjective impressions have to be
caused by an objective reality. This competition has led to the impasse
that OM is unable to explain adequately how we correct error, while SM is
unable to explain adequately our ineradicable belief in an independently
existing reality that acts as a constraint on our beliefs.
[40]
The resolution to this dilemma is DM (a dialectical model, or model of self-correcting
rational processes). According to DM, the original subjective perception
of the bent stick is corrected by both previous and subsequent subjective
impressions of the straight stick when out of water, a correction reinforced
by a theory of light refraction, which itself is developed on the basis
of a whole complex of *subjective* experiences by the community of physicists.
From this perspective, objectivity is found not in a reality outside the
subjective, but in a self-correcting process *within consciousness*. For
it is within consciousness itself that I experience the world as a constraint
on my beliefs, such that those beliefs are correct when they 'match' the
world and false when they do not. It is within consciousness that I find
others who aid me in finding out facts about the world. And it is within
consciousness that I identify conditions of logic and of observation under
which it is likely that others will make the same claims as I do. It is
a further question whether that world, including other subjects, is a product
of my unconscious mind or exists independently of me. As we have seen in
section *6. Objectivity*, an independently existing world is an ontological
hypothesis to account for my subjective experiencing. Again, the final judge
here is pragmatism, not formal logic. Rational inquiry cannot lift itself
by its own bootstraps and ensure its success. We follow it and improve upon
it because it supports practical, daily living and what scientific progress
we have achieved. And again, there has been found no one who denies an independently
existing world who has actually based their action and thinking on the dictates
of that denial.
[41]
In sum, in OM 'subjective' is pejorative in that its role is simply to be
lectured to by objective reality; in SM, 'subjective' is fundamental, but
at the expense of independently existing reality; in DM, although some subjective
perceptions are wrong, it is only other subjective processes that reveal
error and correct it -- that is, the final judge of truth is unavoidably
subjective judgment, always fallible but also always capable of reducing
error by the self- correcting process of pragmatically rational (not rationalistic)
inquiry.
[42]
*Reflectively*, scientists of consciousness must do more than believe the
preceding theory as a hypothesis. They must confirm it from within their
own reflective self-awareness. For there are at least four ways they might
adopt DM. The first is to employ DM as a useful model. The second is to
believe it is true, because others believe it. The third is to believe it
is true, because their own reflective conceptualization tells them it is
more feasible that its competitors. The fourth is to reflect on their own
conscious inquiring and see for themselves whether they have any epistemological
rock on which they can stand with absolute sureness; whether or not all
their thinking emerges from an undefined, unlimited source within their
own consciousness; and whether or not their personal world is an essentially
temporary structure constructed by their own minds out of the materials
given them in an independently existing reality. Therefore, at the heart
of their inquiry is a practical wisdom by which they decide the feasibility
of holding their current beliefs or inquiring further, given the resources
-- material, human, and personal -- that are available. In other words,
at the core of inquiry, the science and the applied technology of consciousness
merge -- or, more accurately, dialectically embrace. The scientist and the
philosopher become one.
IV. The Applied Technology of Consciousness (TOC)
[43]
Perhaps more than any other science, SOC is driven by technology or application.
The gulf in motivation between the theoretical and the applied mathematician,
and the theoretical physicist and the engineer, is wide indeed. Even the
behavioral scientist might be fascinated to understand human behavior without
necessarily wishing to apply it. However, since it is within consciousness
itself that we experience the felt quality of our lives, it is unlikely
that our motivations for understanding it and for using it to enhance our
quality of life are ever dynamically very far apart, though they are conceptually
distinct. SOC and TOC are intertwined in at least three ways: in the practice
of concentration, in the practice of mindfulness, and in answering questions
at the heart of human existence.
1. The Practice of Concentration
[44]
In meditation practices, concentration develops our ability to choose that
to which we give our attention. Typically, meditation practices direct our
attention to sense objects -- for example, the feeling of breath on our
upper lip or visual focus on a mandala or visual design. Though the goal
of these practices is usually to quiet one's experiencing or prepare for
mindfulness (see below), they might also be employed to help a researcher
develop more control in detailed sense observation. Similarly, this control
of attention could be extended to conceptualizing, to reduce distractions
and clarify thinking. Finally, this control could be extended to consciousness
itself, to make the conscious activity of the researcher more mindful.
2. The Practice of Mindfulness
[45]
Unlike concentration, which is concerned with developing control, mindfulness
is concerned with liberation, with freedom from control. It is therefore
initially paradoxical that concentration is often practiced as a preparation
for developing mindfulness. Yet the paradox disappears once we understand
that mindfulness involves a letting go that in effect is a deeper form of
control. (Those who lose their life will find it. No ego, no problem.) To
begin with, concentration and mindfulness both work to overcome reactive
experiencing, in which the subject is the passive recipient of whatever
comes to mind. With concentration, the subject brings their experiencing
under some degree of voluntary control. Formal concentration practices are
often required, but may not always be necessary, to exercise such control.
That is why concentration is often, but not necessarily, practiced before
mindfulness is practiced. In any case, with sufficient voluntary control
the subject can begin to be mindful, to not concentrate on any particular
thing, but just to notice what experiencing involves. Mindfulness, then,
lets go of concentration in order to become reflectively aware of just what
experiencing is really like. This also undermines reactive experiencing,
since the latter's compulsive and clinging character stems from the subject's
being unaware of the experiencing itself.
[46]
For example, suppose that I am angry because of something you said. If I
am unaware of my own experiencing, and therefore unmindful of my own contribution
to my anger, I will probably focus on my experience rather than my experiencing
and feel simply that 'you made me angry'. On the other hand, if I am mindful
of my experiencing, and therefore aware of my own contribution to my anger,
I will probably focus on my experiencing and be aware that I am responding
angrily to what you said. I am then free to be further mindful of my response
and evaluate it experientially as clinging or not and intellectually as
justified or unjustified. If I am aware of it as a clinging, reactive response,
I may be able to let go of it, in which case the anger may disappear. On
the other hand, it may emerge as a non-reactive expression of something
deeper in me. In that case, my intellectual evaluation becomes appropriate.
I may determine that the anger is justified and be able to act constructively
on my righteous anger; or I may decide the anger is unjustified and thus
allow it to wither away. Notice that it will wither away. It is only reactive,
clinging anger that remains stuck in consciousness even when the subject
believes it is unjustified.
[47]
If I wish, I can carry this process to the point of letting go of particular
experiences to such an extent that my focus shifts to consciousness itself.
Just as I can focus on a single letter of this paragraph so that the rest
of the letters on the screen are at the periphery of my awareness, so I
can focus on consciousness itself so that the contents and structure of
that consciousness are at the periphery of my awareness. This is what I
take some mystics to mean when they refer to pure consciousness, which explains
in what sense we can speak of consciousness which is not consciousness of
something (n 10).
[48]
Mindfulness serves SOC by providing a lived confirmation of the critical
theory of inquiry articulated in this article. However, *this does not mean
that mindfulness is a substitute for theory*. Mindfulness makes us aware,
as it were, of the womb from which all our consciousness arises. It is an
epistemological issue, toward which mindfulness is neutral, whether from
that womb there ever arise either ACS or n-claims that provide special insight
into reality which is not available to OCS and our ordinary practical and
scientific methods, and which can provide a rock-solid ground for a particular
religion, ethics, or ontology. Any such special insight must compete with
a naturalistic pragmatism in just those ways indicated in section *II.2.
Non-naturalistic Claims*. Mindfulness, however, by reducing our identification
with, and clinging to, any particular viewpoint, enables us to employ the
appropriate epistemological methods to optimally assess the validity of
any claim. In other words, mindfulness allows all the resources of consciousness
to be available for whatever the task at hand may be; it does not perform
the task itself.
3. Wisdom
[49]
Wisdom, at least the wisdom of which I am aware or the wisdom that, extrapolating
from my current understanding I can reasonably believe in, is not omniscience.
Nor is it special knowledge. It is what in sports is called playing within
one's abilities, acting appropriately to circumstances and one's own resources,
not trying to be something one is not. In other words, it is mindfulness
of one's own experiencing, letting go of clinging, defensive reactions that
constrict one's own inner resources. By identifying the neurological, behavioral,
cognitive, and social roots of consciousness, SOC helps us understand the
roots of those clinging, defensive reactions. By applying that knowledge,
TOC helps us transform ourselves into conscious subjects living from deep
within ourselves.
[50]
We have seen that we cannot decide ahead of time whether ACS and SSS will
add anything to neurological, behavioral, cognitive, and social sciences.
Even if they do, however, it is crucial to understand that, like those sciences,
they are peripheral to wisdom no matter how exotic they may be. Every spiritual
tradition emphasizes that 'special gifts', depending on whether they are
used wisely or reactively, can either enhance or detract from the essential
goal, which is a liberating wisdom. Only this radical wisdom is incapable
of being adulterated, since it is beyond clinging and emerges only to the
extent that clinging is eradicated.
Notes
(1) Throughout this article, 'experiencing', as well as the verb 'experience',
refers to the activity or process of conscious awareness and the noun 'experience'
refers to the object or content of the experiencing. By reflecting on my
experiencing, I experience my experiencing and thereby turn it also into
an experience, which perhaps more than anything makes discussion of consciousness
so slippery.
(2) For convenience, I am using 'claims' to refer to judgments or beliefs,
conscious or unconscious, as well as explicit claims that are publicly accountable.
(3) For convenience, I am using 'knowledge' to refer to naturalistic knowledge,
which involves claims about experience. We do not inquire far into consciousness
before we encounter claims that are not about experience, but about other
realms of reality. Sometimes these are claims about unusual experiences;
but sometimes they are claims about something 'just known' to exist. I'll
refer to this sort of claim as non-naturalistic.
(4) We will see below how this includes pure conscious awareness as the
limiting case.
(5) Foertsch and Gernsbacher (1997) not only review the reasons why grammarians
increasingly favor using 'they' as a gender- neutral singular, they also
provide empirical studies suggesting that we process this option more efficiently
than other gender- neutral options.
(6) Since experience is relative, it can involve a mistake. For example,
if I am wrong about my computer disk's existing independently of me, then
in experiencing my belief that it does, I am experiencing a mistake. But
as experience, my experience is not mistaken. For, though this experience
involves a claim, no claim is yet made about the experience itself.
(7) They can, of course, replicate my pain. For example, if my pain comes
from hitting myself on the head with a hammer, they can hammer their own
heads and experience presumably the same sort of pain. But they can never
experience my pain, nor I theirs.
(8) Since this turns the seeing itself into the content of my reflection,
we can refer to it as reflective or 2nd-level content, to distinguish it
from the ordinary or 1st-level content of our ordinary, non- reflective
experiencing.
(9) I'm not suggesting that any one scientist must experience all possible
CS, but only the community of scientists of consciousness. Similarly, no
one geologist must explore the whole earth, but the community of geologists
must do so.
(10) Some references to pure consciousness seem instead to refer to a hypnotic
state from which one awakes. This seems inconsistent with pure consciousness
that is associated with mindfulness.
References
Chalmers, David J. (1995), 'Facing up to the Problem of Consciousness',
*Journal of Consciousness
Studies*, 2 (3), pp. 200-219
Chalmers, David J. (1997), 'Moving Forward on the Problem of Consciousness',
*Journal of Consciousness
Studies*, 4 (1), pp. 3-46
Foertsch, Julie, & Gernsbacher, Morton Ann (1997), 'In Search of Gender
Neutrality: Is Singular *They* a
Cognitively Efficient Substitute for Generic He?', *Psychological Science*,
8 (2), pp. 106-11
Tart, Charles T. (1972), 'States of Consciousness and State-Specific Sciences',
*Science*, 176, pp. 1203-1210
Author
[Gary Schouborg, Ph.D., Philosophical Psychology, is partner of Performance
Consulting, which facilitates planning, meetings, and teamwork efforts of
both profit and not-for-profit organizations. He has published in philosophy,
religious studies, poetry, and business. Walnut Creek, California, USA.
Email: <garyscho@worldnet.att.net> ]