I’ll expand on Dan Armak’s issue with using “moment”. When I try to imagine this, I end up with this conceptual image of a series of consciousnesses, each going “Oh-wow-i-finally-exist-oh-no-I’m-dying”, but that’s totally wrong. They don’t have near enough to time to think those thoughts, and in fact to think that thought they would have to break into several more moment-consciousnesses, none of which could really be described as “thinking”. If each moment-consciousness is continuously appearing and disappearing, they’re not appearing and disappearing in the same sense that we use those words in any other situation. It seems analogous to watching a ball move, and concluding that it’s actually a series of balls “appearing and disappearing”. Why not just say it’s moving?
The other thing that I always have to remind myself is that even though it feels like there’s a consciousness moving, in reality my “consciousness” is present at every moment in time that I exist! And moving is a word that means position changing as time changes, so talking about moving through time is talking about “time changing times as time changes”, which doesn’t really say anything.
Lastly, if there were a thread connecting all past and future consciousness, how would you know? Would it feel any different than your experience now?
they’re not appearing and disappearing in the same sense that we use those words in any other situation.
You are completely right, but don’t forget why we are talking about this in the first place.
The reason we are talking about this is because some people are confused about subjective experience. When they get copied, they are wondering which of the two copies “they” will experience. The reason I made this elaborate “moment” metaphor was to illustrate that subjective experience simply does not work that way.
The trouble here is that people are having difficulty treating their subjective experience of reality as analogous to a ball moving. If you were to copy a ball, you’d never ask a silly question like “which one is original” in the first place. That’s why I’m using different language to talk about subjective experience. If you aren’t confused about subjective experience in the first place, there is no reason to bother with this metaphor—just say that you’re a process running through time, and leave it at that.
The anthropic trilemma is a question that wouldn’t be raised unless the questioner implicitly believed in souls. The attempt here is to make people realize what it really means to have a reductionist view of consciousness and subjective experience.
Lastly, if there were a thread connecting all past and future consciousness, how would you know? Would it feel any different than your experience now?
You wouldn’t, and that’s one of the many reasons you shouldn’t use the thread metaphor. Thread metaphors are philosophically problematic when you start copying yourself (as in the skeptics trilemma) by making you ask yourself which of the copies you subjectively end up in.
If you really want the thread metaphor, then imagine a thread which splits into two threads upon being copied, not one which follows along with one of the two copies.
The anthropic trilemma is a question that wouldn’t be raised unless the questioner implicitly believed in souls. The attempt here is to make people realize what it really means to have a reductionist view of consciousness and subjective experience.
I’m not sure what you’re referring to by “souls” there. Right now I have this subjective experience of being a consciousness that is moving through time. I anticipate a sensation of “moving” through new situations as time goes on, and things like the anthropic trilemma refer to my expectation of where I will feel like I end up next moment. I think we agree that our minds have no objective property that follows them through time, at least no more than non-conscious objects. But there does seem to be some subjective sense of this movement, leading to a big question: If we don’t have souls, why does it feel so very much like we do?
I’m mostly content to say, “Eventually neuroscientists will piece apart enough mental processes that we can describe the neural activity that causes this sensation to arrive”. I also classify this sense of a “soul” in the same as something like the colour red. Why does red look like red? I don’t know. I intend to eventually find out, but I’m not sure where to start yet.
If you really want the thread metaphor, then imagine a thread which splits into two threads upon being copied, not one which follows along with one of the two copies.
Yes, very true. Sorry though, I guess I wasn’t clear with the thread idea. I was trying to contrast your “flipbook” concept of consciousness with the thread concept, and ask whether they would actual feel any different. My own thought is: No, there’s no way to tell them apart.
think we agree that our minds have no objective property that follows them through time [..] But there does seem to be some subjective sense of this movement, leading to a big question: If we don’t have souls, why does it feel so very much like we do?
So… hm.
It feels to me like I have a spatial viewpoint, located somewhere in my skull. As I get up, look around, etc., my viewpoint seems to move around with my body. If I project images onto my retinas sufficiently convincingly, my viewpoint seems to move without my body… that is, I might have the sensation of looking down over a mountain range or some such thing.
If I were to say “I think we agree that our minds have no objective property that travels through space to wherever our viewpoint is, but there does seem to be some subjective sense of this movement, leading to a big question: If we don’t have viewpoints, why does it feel so very much like we do?” would you consider that a sensible question?
Because I think my answer would be twofold: first, “Who said we don’t have viewpoints? We totally do. It’s just that are viewpoints are information-processing artifacts.” and second “We can identify the neural pathways that seem to be involved in constructing a representation of a three-dimensional environment from retinal images, and that representation includes a focal point .” And, sure, our understanding of how that representation is constructed is incomplete, and we’ll develop a more and more detailed and comprehensive understanding of it as we go… just like our understanding of how crystals form or the conditions at the center of the sun are incomplete and growing.
But I wouldn’t call that a singularly big question. It’s interesting, sure, and potentially useful, but so are how crystals form and the conditions at the center of the sun.
Would you agree, when it comes to the neural construction of spatial viewpoints?
If so, what on your account makes the neural construction of temporal viewpoints different?
The spatial and temporal viewpoint analogy doesn’t quite work, because you can sensibly talk about a movement through space, since movement means change in space/change in time. But you can’t really talk about movement through time because that would be change in time/change in time. So if we set time equal to a constant, and look at space, your viewpoint is only at one spatial point. But if we look at time, your viewpoint is at a continuum of places, sort of a “line” through time.
Your analysis of the neural construction of spatial viewpoints is good, and I think it holds for the neural construction of temporal viewpoints. If I knew these neural constructions, then I would know exactly why you feel a subjective experience of a viewpoint moving through space and time. I could understand these causal mechanisms an be satisfied with my knowledge of the process. But I might still be confused about my feeling of subjective experience, because it doesn’t explain why I feel things the way that I do. I’ve been reluctant to use the word “qualia” but essentially that’s what I’m getting at. Hence my analogy with red: Even if I knew the parts of the brain that responded to red, would I know why red looks the way it does?
So if we want to talk about other people, then I think we’re all on the same page. These sensations of spatial/temporal movement could be explained with neuroscience, and have no profound philosophical implications.
Ah, OK. If your concern is with qualia generally rather than with constructing temporal viewpoints specifically, I’ll tap out here… I misunderstood the question. Thanks for clarifying.
If we don’t have souls, why does it feel so very much like we do?
The thing which distinguishes a theoretical universe from a real one, the thing that makes reality real, is my qualia. I take it as axiomatic that things which I can sense are real, and go from there. Reality itself is defined by my qualia, so it doesn’t make sense to explore why I have qualia by looking at reality. Asking why we feel is like asking why reality is real. It only makes sense to ask what we feel, and what is reality—and the two are synonymous.
I’m mostly content to say, “Eventually neuroscientists will piece apart enough mental processes that we can describe the neural activity that causes this sensation to arrive”. I also classify this sense of a “soul” in the same as something like the colour red. Why does red look like red? I don’t know. I intend to eventually find out, but I’m not sure where to start yet.
At the most optimistic, we will be able to completely predict neural activity and behavioral outputs generated from a human system given a set of inputs. By definition, there is no way to test whether or not a system is feeling a subjective sensation.
This is one of those questions (like free will, etc) that you can solve using philosophy alone. You don’t need to bring science into it—although neuroscience might eventually force you to confront the problem and help you phrase the question in a way that makes sense.
I’ll expand on Dan Armak’s issue with using “moment”. When I try to imagine this, I end up with this conceptual image of a series of consciousnesses, each going “Oh-wow-i-finally-exist-oh-no-I’m-dying”, but that’s totally wrong. They don’t have near enough to time to think those thoughts, and in fact to think that thought they would have to break into several more moment-consciousnesses, none of which could really be described as “thinking”. If each moment-consciousness is continuously appearing and disappearing, they’re not appearing and disappearing in the same sense that we use those words in any other situation. It seems analogous to watching a ball move, and concluding that it’s actually a series of balls “appearing and disappearing”. Why not just say it’s moving?
The other thing that I always have to remind myself is that even though it feels like there’s a consciousness moving, in reality my “consciousness” is present at every moment in time that I exist! And moving is a word that means position changing as time changes, so talking about moving through time is talking about “time changing times as time changes”, which doesn’t really say anything.
Lastly, if there were a thread connecting all past and future consciousness, how would you know? Would it feel any different than your experience now?
You are completely right, but don’t forget why we are talking about this in the first place.
The reason we are talking about this is because some people are confused about subjective experience. When they get copied, they are wondering which of the two copies “they” will experience. The reason I made this elaborate “moment” metaphor was to illustrate that subjective experience simply does not work that way.
The trouble here is that people are having difficulty treating their subjective experience of reality as analogous to a ball moving. If you were to copy a ball, you’d never ask a silly question like “which one is original” in the first place. That’s why I’m using different language to talk about subjective experience. If you aren’t confused about subjective experience in the first place, there is no reason to bother with this metaphor—just say that you’re a process running through time, and leave it at that.
The anthropic trilemma is a question that wouldn’t be raised unless the questioner implicitly believed in souls. The attempt here is to make people realize what it really means to have a reductionist view of consciousness and subjective experience.
You wouldn’t, and that’s one of the many reasons you shouldn’t use the thread metaphor. Thread metaphors are philosophically problematic when you start copying yourself (as in the skeptics trilemma) by making you ask yourself which of the copies you subjectively end up in.
If you really want the thread metaphor, then imagine a thread which splits into two threads upon being copied, not one which follows along with one of the two copies.
I’m not sure what you’re referring to by “souls” there. Right now I have this subjective experience of being a consciousness that is moving through time. I anticipate a sensation of “moving” through new situations as time goes on, and things like the anthropic trilemma refer to my expectation of where I will feel like I end up next moment. I think we agree that our minds have no objective property that follows them through time, at least no more than non-conscious objects. But there does seem to be some subjective sense of this movement, leading to a big question: If we don’t have souls, why does it feel so very much like we do?
I’m mostly content to say, “Eventually neuroscientists will piece apart enough mental processes that we can describe the neural activity that causes this sensation to arrive”. I also classify this sense of a “soul” in the same as something like the colour red. Why does red look like red? I don’t know. I intend to eventually find out, but I’m not sure where to start yet.
Yes, very true. Sorry though, I guess I wasn’t clear with the thread idea. I was trying to contrast your “flipbook” concept of consciousness with the thread concept, and ask whether they would actual feel any different. My own thought is: No, there’s no way to tell them apart.
So… hm.
It feels to me like I have a spatial viewpoint, located somewhere in my skull. As I get up, look around, etc., my viewpoint seems to move around with my body. If I project images onto my retinas sufficiently convincingly, my viewpoint seems to move without my body… that is, I might have the sensation of looking down over a mountain range or some such thing.
If I were to say “I think we agree that our minds have no objective property that travels through space to wherever our viewpoint is, but there does seem to be some subjective sense of this movement, leading to a big question: If we don’t have viewpoints, why does it feel so very much like we do?” would you consider that a sensible question?
Because I think my answer would be twofold: first, “Who said we don’t have viewpoints? We totally do. It’s just that are viewpoints are information-processing artifacts.” and second “We can identify the neural pathways that seem to be involved in constructing a representation of a three-dimensional environment from retinal images, and that representation includes a focal point .” And, sure, our understanding of how that representation is constructed is incomplete, and we’ll develop a more and more detailed and comprehensive understanding of it as we go… just like our understanding of how crystals form or the conditions at the center of the sun are incomplete and growing.
But I wouldn’t call that a singularly big question. It’s interesting, sure, and potentially useful, but so are how crystals form and the conditions at the center of the sun.
Would you agree, when it comes to the neural construction of spatial viewpoints?
If so, what on your account makes the neural construction of temporal viewpoints different?
The spatial and temporal viewpoint analogy doesn’t quite work, because you can sensibly talk about a movement through space, since movement means change in space/change in time. But you can’t really talk about movement through time because that would be change in time/change in time. So if we set time equal to a constant, and look at space, your viewpoint is only at one spatial point. But if we look at time, your viewpoint is at a continuum of places, sort of a “line” through time.
Your analysis of the neural construction of spatial viewpoints is good, and I think it holds for the neural construction of temporal viewpoints. If I knew these neural constructions, then I would know exactly why you feel a subjective experience of a viewpoint moving through space and time. I could understand these causal mechanisms an be satisfied with my knowledge of the process. But I might still be confused about my feeling of subjective experience, because it doesn’t explain why I feel things the way that I do. I’ve been reluctant to use the word “qualia” but essentially that’s what I’m getting at. Hence my analogy with red: Even if I knew the parts of the brain that responded to red, would I know why red looks the way it does?
So if we want to talk about other people, then I think we’re all on the same page. These sensations of spatial/temporal movement could be explained with neuroscience, and have no profound philosophical implications.
Ah, OK. If your concern is with qualia generally rather than with constructing temporal viewpoints specifically, I’ll tap out here… I misunderstood the question. Thanks for clarifying.
The thing which distinguishes a theoretical universe from a real one, the thing that makes reality real, is my qualia. I take it as axiomatic that things which I can sense are real, and go from there. Reality itself is defined by my qualia, so it doesn’t make sense to explore why I have qualia by looking at reality. Asking why we feel is like asking why reality is real. It only makes sense to ask what we feel, and what is reality—and the two are synonymous.
At the most optimistic, we will be able to completely predict neural activity and behavioral outputs generated from a human system given a set of inputs. By definition, there is no way to test whether or not a system is feeling a subjective sensation.
This is one of those questions (like free will, etc) that you can solve using philosophy alone. You don’t need to bring science into it—although neuroscience might eventually force you to confront the problem and help you phrase the question in a way that makes sense.