Sunday, 17 September 2023

Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Therapy as Intellectual Suicide

Ludwig Wittgenstein offered his readers both therapy and philosophy. That (as it were) fusion is discussed in this essay. The following also focuses on Simon Blackburn’s critical reading of Wittgenstein. This reading puts Wittgenstein in the role of both a philosophical therapist, and someone who believed that philosophy itself is — or should be — therapy. More relevantly, Blackburn argues that this stance ultimately leads to “intellectual suicide”.

“Wittgenstein imagined that the philosopher was like a therapist whose task was to put problems finally to rest, and to cure us of being bewitched by them. So we are told to stop, to shut off lines of inquiry, not to find things puzzling nor to seek explanations. This is intellectual suicide.”

— Simon Blackburn

[This passage can be found in Blackburn’s book Essays in Quasi-Realism.]


(i) Introduction
(ii) Wittgenstein’s Philosophy as Therapy?
(iii) The New Wittgenstein School and Therapy
(iv) Philosophical Quietism?
(v) Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Anti-Philosophy

Simon Blackburn

Those words from the English philosopher Simon Blackburn (1944-) seem to contain at least some truth. After all, Wittgenstein did once say that “philosophical problems should completely disappear”. (Of course, these five words need to be placed in context.)

To repeat Blackburn’s final two sentences:

“So we are told to stop, to shut off lines of inquiry, not to find things puzzling nor to seek explanations. This is intellectual suicide.”

So, again, it’s not immediately clear that Blackburn’s words are an entirely accurate or faithful account of Wittgenstein’s intent. Moreover, they also seem a little rhetorical.

In any case, many — even most — philosophers have also claimed to “put [at least certain] problems finally to rest”. Or, at the very least, they’ve said that this was their aim. However, this was usually done by providing answers to those problems, not by offering a philosophical therapy which cures philosophers — as well as others — of the psychological need for philosophical answers.

To return to the opening passage from Blackburn:

“Wittgenstein imagined that the philosopher was like a therapist whose task was to put problems finally to rest, and to cure us of being bewitched by them.”

The issue of whether (all? most? many?) philosophers really are “bewitched” by philosophical “problems” needs to be tackled — although not in this essay. In other words, didn’t Wittgenstein only have his eyes on a small subset of philosophers when he advanced his therapeutic positions?

It’s now worth saying that Blackburn isn’t entirely alone in his critical reading of Wittgenstein.

Take the views of the British philosopher Paul Horwich.

In a New York Times article, Horwich stated that Wittgenstein believed the following:

“There are no startling discoveries to be made of facts, not open to the methods of science, yet accessible ‘from the armchair’ through some blend of intuition, pure reason and conceptual analysis. Indeed the whole idea of a subject that could yield such results is based on confusion and wishful thinking.”

Of course, that passage isn’t as critical and rhetorical as Blackburn’s own. However, it seems to be saying vaguely similar things, if in a different way.

As already stated, Blackburn himself may not be entirely convincing. Yet is anyone entirely convincing when it comes to “reading Wittgenstein”?

What about Wittgenstein’s own “reading” of Wittgenstein? Is there such a thing? Also, was Wittgenstein advising us, or telling us, “how to do philosophy”?

Thus, if all people can do is read (or interpret) Wittgenstein, then that’s what I, as a reader, shall do.

So let’s just go with Blackburn’s reading of Wittgenstein for now. If we don’t, then we’ll only need to go to other readings of Wittgenstein instead.

All that is a roundabout way of saying that this essay isn’t yet another piece of “Wittgenstein scholarship”. (At one point, there were over 1000 publications about Wittgenstein in a single year.) Instead, it focuses on a (as it were) second-hand Wittgenstein — i.e., Wittgenstein through the eyes of Simon Blackburn.

More relevantly, Blackburn certainly used the word “therapist” in the opening passage.

Wittgenstein’s Philosophy as Therapy?

Can readers, philosophers and commentators move from only a couple (?) of uses of the word “therapy”, to concluding that Wittgenstein’s overall philosophy is therapeutic?

That depends.

Arguing that Wittgenstein advanced a philosophy-as-therapy position isn’t exactly a wild interpretation (or reading) of him. After all, Wittgenstein used the word “therapy” himself. However, he hardly used that word (or its derivatives) at all. Indeed, when people quote Wittgenstein advancing what they take to be philosophical therapy, he doesn’t actually use that word…

Not that a philosopher needs to use the actual word “therapy” in order to believe that philosophy is — or should be — therapy.

Yet we do have the following passage from Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Investigations:

“There is not a philosophical method, though there are indeed methods, like different therapies.”

In terms of capturing Wittgenstein’s position of philosophy-as-therapy, take a passage (from Philosophical Investigations again) which doesn’t actually include the word “therapy” at all. Here it is:

“The real discovery is the one that makes me capable of stopping doing philosophy when I want to. The one that gives philosophy peace, so that it is no longer tormented by questions which bring itself in question.”

Now a good — if arcane — example of this desire for philosophical “peace” can be seen when Wittgenstein tackled the infamous Liar Paradox. In a discussion with Alan Turing, Wittgenstein said:

“Think of the case of the Liar: It is very queer in a way that this should have puzzled anyone — much more extraordinary than you might think. [] Because the thing works like this: if a man says ‘I am lying’ we say that it follows that he is not lying, from which it follows that he is lying and so on. Well, so what? You can go on like that until you are black in the face. Why not? It doesn’t matter? [] it is just a useless language-game, and why should anyone be excited?”

[See my ‘When Alan Turing and Ludwig Wittgenstein Discussed the Liar Paradox’.]

The few times (even a single time?) that Wittgenstein used the word “therapy” (or its derivatives), he did so in a context that isn’t as radical — or, indeed, as objectionable (at least to some) — as it may at first seem.

In a strong sense, Wittgenstein didn’t (as it were) literally mean therapy by his word “therapy”. Or, at the least, he didn’t mean therapy in the literal sense, or in the sense that entered 20th century European and American lingo. In fact, the “discourse theorist” Jonathan Potter says that Wittgenstein simply used the word “therapy” as a convenient “metaphor from psychology”.

So if we now return to the passage quoted a few moments ago:

“There is not a philosophical method, though there are indeed methods, like different therapies.”

Wittgenstein is only talking about “philosophical method” here, not philosophy generally. Indeed, he’s actually talking about “methods” in the plural, not a single method.

Still, Wittgenstein did equate philosophical methods with what he called “therapies”.

However, it was philosophical therapies which Wittgenstein was referring to, not psychological, psychoanalytic, behavioural, spiritual or religious therapies. That said, he did (as quoted earlier) use the psychological words “[gives me] peace”, “tormented by”, etc.

The New Wittgenstein School and Therapy

Is “the new Wittgenstein” better than the old Wittgenstein?

Simon Blackburn (as already quoted) wrote the following:

“Wittgenstein imagined that the philosopher was like a therapist whose task was to put problems finally to rest, and to cure us of being bewitched by them.”

Now let’s quote one take on “the therapeutic approach to philosophy”:

[It] sees philosophical problems as misconceptions that are to be therapeutically dissolved.”

This seems to be a normative position — at least in part. In other words, those who practice the therapeutic approach to philosophy are advising us (or telling us?) that (only certain?) philosophical problems can be (or must be?) “therapeutically dissolved”.

Still, that passage doesn’t tell us what it is to therapeutically dissolve a problem, and why anyone should have that aim in the first place.

To change tack a little.

There are two things which are worth distinguishing here:

(1) Wittgenstein’s own position of philosophy-as-therapy — and even if he held such a position for philosophy in general.
(2) Later Wittgensteinians who argued that much (sometimes all) of Wittgenstein’s work is
therapeutic.
[Not all Wittgensteinians have stressed philosophy-as-therapy.]

If we take the Wittgensteinian (i.e., rather than Wittgenstein’s) position (2).

The most (depending on philosophical taste) extreme form of Wittgensteinian philosophy can be found in the The New Wittgenstein “school”.

Philosophers in this school have argued that Wittgenstein’s early Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus is just “plain nonsense”. Indeed, the Tractatus is deemed to be therapeutic (by these Wittgensteinians) precisely because it it’s also deemed to be “self-undermining and paradoxical”. (It can easily be argued that Wittgenstein himself took this position about his own book. However, see note 1.)

On the Tractatus itself.

Considering the gnomic, poetic and oracular prose style of that book, some readers may wonder how it would

“help us work ourselves out of [the] confusions we become entangled in when philosophizing”.

Unless, that is, Wittgenstein’s oracular and gnomic writing style was the perfect way to untangle philosophers.

Sure. So how does that work?

In any case, the “New Wittgenstein school” believed that the Tractatus didn’t advance any broad philosophical positions or any single philosophical project. (Not even the project of making philosophy therapy?) Instead, it was Wittgenstein’s way of getting philosophers (or his readers) to give up on philosophical speculation, as well as to give up on endlessly attempting to solve (often ancient) problems.

To sum up the New Wittgenstein position, this is how Alice Crary (a New Wittgensteinian) puts her (or Wittgenstein’s) position:

“Wittgenstein’s primary aim in philosophy is — to use a word he himself employs in characterizing his later philosophical procedures — a therapeutic one. These papers have in common an understanding of Wittgenstein as aspiring, not to advance metaphysical theories, but rather to help us work ourselves out of confusions we become entangled in when philosophizing.”

Now what of Wittgenstein’s “quietism”?

Philosophical Quietism?

Perhaps the passage which best captures Wittgenstein’s quietist position is this (often-quoted) one:

“Philosophy may in no way interfere with the actual use of language, it can in the end only describe it.
“For it cannot give it any foundation either. It leaves everything as it is.”

That final sentence (i.e., “[philosophy] leaves everything as it is”) perfectly expresses philosophical quietism… Or, at the least, it seems to.

However, a quietist position toward philosophy may not itself be quietist philosophy.

In other words, when Wittgenstein told philosophers to (as it were) be quiet, he said that in a (philosophically) loud voice.

Indeed, advising philosophers not to “interfere with the actual use of language”, and to “leave[] everything as it is”, doesn’t seem quietist at all. These bits of philosophical advice seem to be, at best, normative. And, at worst, categorical.

Oddly enough, Simon Blackburn himself (in his A Dictionary of Philosophy) puts a position that distances Wittgenstein from quietism. He wrote:

“In philosophy the doctrine doubtfully associated with Wittgenstein. [] Wittgenstein sympathized with this but his own practice include a relentless striving to gain a ‘perspicacious representation’ of perplexing elements in our thought.”

Now take the following account of what philosophical quietists believe. Apparently, they believe that

“advancing knowledge or settling debates (particularly those between realists and non-realists) is not the job of philosophy, rather philosophy should liberate the mind by diagnosing confusing concepts”.

The following questions now seem somewhat obvious:

(1) Isn’t philosophical Quietism itself a way of “settling debates”? (It settles debates by — among other things — “dissolving problems”.)
(2) Doesn’t philosophical Quietism
settle the debate by “liberating the mind” via the method of “diagnosing confusing concepts”?
(3) More narrowly, doesn’t philosophical Quietism
settle the debate between realists and non-realists by (completely) rejecting both realism and non-realism?
[See note 2.]

Of course, it can be assumed here that quietists would deny (or would they?) that they’re attempting to settle the debate. However, why should non-quietists accept that (seemingly modest) denial?

What’s more:

(1) Doesn’t philosophical Quietism advance the knowledge that philosophers use “confusing concepts”? [Sure, we can now ask: What is knowledge?]
(2) Doesn’t philosophical Quietism
advance the knowledge that the realism-vs.-nonrealism debate is bogus?

Of course, it can be assumed here that quietists would claim (or would they?) that these aren’t actually attempts to advance knowledge at all. However, why should non-quietists accept that (seemingly modest) claim?

It’s also worth saying here that (perhaps) one can be a Wittgensteinian without also being a quietist. Indeed, (perhaps) one can be a Wittgensteinian without also believing that philosophy is therapy.

So now take these words from Wittgenstein himself:

“It is not our aim to refine or complete the system of rules for the use of our words in unheard-of ways.”

The Wittgensteinian P.M.S. Hacker (Peter Hacker) brings Wittgenstein up to date (i.e., by discussing neurophysiologists and psychologists) without necessarily committing himself to the philosophy-as-therapy position. Yet Hacker still takes almost exactly the same position as Wittgenstein in the following:

[Expressions] can and are violated by unconsciously crossing ordinary uses of expressions with half-understood technical ones.”

Hacker believes in what’s been called the “linguistic-therapeutic approach to philosophy. In other words, he believes that the words and concepts used by everyday people should be taken as given by philosophers… and also (it seems) by scientists. Consequently, he sees the role of philosophy (as did Wittgenstein) as one of dissolving (or resolving) philosophical problems by examining (among other things) how words are actually used in everyday life. More precisely, Hacker deems philosophical problems to be primarily conceptual in nature. To him, this also means that these problems can be dissolved (or resolved) purely by “linguistic analysis”.

Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Anti-Philosophy

Wittgenstein was “anti-philosophy” in a very philosophical kinda way. So is this just like those scientists who’re critical of philosophy, but who, inadvertently, offer us their very own philosophical positions and ideas? Of course, unlike such scientists, Wittgenstein must have known that he hadn’t broken free of philosophy.

Wittgenstein did a lot of philosophy in order to reach his (scare-quoted) “therapeutic” conclusions. Indeed, his critical statements about philosophy are themselves philosophical.

Now do some of Wittgenstein’s statements and positions on philosophy land him in self-referential quagmires — at least to some degree?

Thus, three questions can now be asked:

(1) Didn’t Wittgenstein require philosophical arguments (or at least philosophical positions) to advance the thesis that “the philosopher is like a therapist”?
(2) Didn’t Wittgenstein require philosophical arguments (or at least philosophical positions) to advance the idea that philosophers should “put problems to rest”?
(3) Didn’t Wittgenstein require philosophical arguments (or at least philosophical positions) to state that philosophers are
bewitched by problems, and that curing them of that bewitchment is the role of philosophy?

Of course, Wittgenstein never claimed that his statements and positions weren’t philosophical. And Wittgensteinians have never claimed that they weren’t philosophical either.

So it can be argued that Wittgenstein (perhaps like the “historian” — rather than therapist — Jacques Derrida) wasn’t attempting to close the book of philosophy: he was simply wanting to point philosophy in new directions.

Yet there’s much dispute about all this.

(As there is when it comes to literally everything Wittgenstein wrote and said.)

So this is the time that readers may want to consult the more upfront and explicit “anti-philosophy” readings of Wittgenstein…


Notes

(1) The German philosopher Hans-Johann Glock argued that this “plain nonsense” account of Wittgenstein’s Tractatus is

“at odds with the external evidence, writings and conversations in which Wittgenstein states that the Tractatus is committed to the idea of ineffable insight”.

(2) At least according to the philosopher Alexander Miller. He wrote:

“Philosophers who subscribe to quietism deny that there can be such a thing as substantial metaphysical debate between realists and their non-realist opponents (because they either deny that there are substantial questions about existence or deny that there are substantial questions about independence).”


 

Wednesday, 13 September 2023

Consciousness: When David Chalmers and Christof Koch Placed a Bet on It

This essay is a philosophical take on the Koch-Chalmers bet of 1998, which was finally settled in June 2023. It asks what the bet actually meant, and attempts to explain why Christof Koch lost, and David Chalmers won. Almost inevitably, it also focuses on what’s often called “the hard problem of consciousness”.

David Chalmers and Christof Koch
“It started off as a very big philosophical mystery [] But over the years, it’s gradually been transmuting into, if not a ‘scientific’ mystery, at least one that we can get a partial grip on scientifically.”

— David Chalmers [This is Chalmers’ response to a question about his bet with Christof Koch.]

“I bet consciousness will be even more baffling in 2048 than it is today. I hope to live long enough to see Koch give Chalmers another case of wine.”

— John Horgan [Source here.]

(i) Introduction
(ii) A Bet About the Neural Correlates of Consciousness?
(iii) The Two Leading Theories of Consciousness
(iv) Definitions of the Word ‘Consciousness’
(v) The Eternal Debate About the Hard Problem


The journal Nature set the scene in this way:

“In 1998, neuroscientist Christof Koch bet philosopher David Chalmers that the mechanism by which the brain’s neurons produce consciousness would be discovered by 2023.”

Nature concluded:

“Both scientists agreed publicly on 23 June, at the annual meeting of the Association for the Scientific Study of Consciousness (ASSC) in New York City, that it is still an ongoing quest — and declared Chalmers the winner.”

[This passage can be found in an article called ‘Decades-long bet on consciousness ends — and it’s philosopher 1, neuroscientist 0'. See also note 1 on the lack of details about this bet.]

Oddly enough, this categorical victory doesn’t square (at least not perfectly) with what the science journalist John Horgan had to say on this very issue. In an article called ‘A 25-Year-Old Bet about Consciousness Has Finally Been Settled’, he writes:

“The results of the tests were inconclusive. Some data favor IIT [information integration theory]; others favor the global workspace.”

This means that from the “inconclusive” results of the “tests” on these two theories, a categorical victory still had to announced. Yet it can be said that words like “winner” and “philosopher 1, neuroscientist 0” are still too categorical (or perhaps simply theatrical) even for a bet like this.

Relatedly, some commentators have said that these two theories are “still incomplete”. (Most — perhaps all — scientific theories are incomplete. [See note 2.]) Such commentators have therefore concluded that “neuroscientists do not understand consciousness”.

A Bet About the Neural Correlates of Consciousness?

Way back in 1998, the computational neuroscientist and neurophysiologist Christof Koch had a lot of faith in finding all the neural correlates of consciousness (or of conscious states) by the year 2023. That was largely because a lot of other neuroscientists (at least those interested in consciousness) had a lot of faith in the new neuroimaging technology which had become available around the year 1998. However, even if that neuroimaging technology was indeed a godsend to neuroscientists and philosophers, all the correlations might still have had to wait a lot longer than Koch believed at the time.

It can also be assumed the philosopher David Chalmers has always happily accepted that the “the brain mechanisms underlying consciousness would [eventually be] known”. However, in 1998, he simply didn’t believe that they’d all be known by 2023.

In any case, Koch conceded that he had lost the bet.

Oddly enough, Koch then had the audacity (if that’s the right word) to make a brand new bet of a very similar kind. At least that is John Horgan’s recollection of the event. Horgan writes:

“Koch then doubled down on his bet. Twenty-five years from now, he predicted, when he will be age 91 and Chalmers will be age 82, consciousness researchers will achieve the ‘clarity’ that now eludes them. Chalmers, shaking Koch’s hand, took the bet.”

[See note 3 on the phrase “correlation doesn’t imply causation”.]

The Two Leading Theories of Consciousness

The main way of deciding this bet between David Chalmers and Christof Koch was to test the “two leading theories” of consciousness.

Those two theories are the information integration theory (IIT) and the global workspace theory (GWT).

More interestingly, advocates of the IIT tested the GWT, and the advocates of the GWT tested the IIT.

So, to be clear, IIT and GWT aren’t necessarily the two leading theories of consciousness. (It can be suspected that various idealist, “spiritualist”, sexy, etc. theories of consciousness are far more popular.) They’re the two leading scientific theories of consciousness. Indeed, even that claim needs to be qualified. IIT and GWT are the two leading theories of consciousness which are deemed — by many scientists and philosophers in the relevant fields - to be (partly or fully?) scientific. (Some idealists — such as Donald Hoffman and Bernardo Kastrup — stress the scientific nature of their own theories of consciousness.)

To repeat. It’s been said that that there are “two leading hypotheses about the neural basis of consciousness”.

Readers may now wonder how all this has been established.

It’s not being said here that they aren’t two leading (scientific) hypotheses. It’s just a question about how that was established.

Was this a numbers game?

Is it that most scientists and philosophers uphold one or the other of these two (scientific) hypotheses? (At least the ones who concern themselves with the nature of consciousness.) Alternatively, is it only that most scientists or most philosophers uphold these two hypotheses?

Some readers may also be wondering why the global workspace theory and information integration theory can’t be both true together.

So take this passage from Horgan:

“GWT explains it in terms of a set of brain structures, whereas IIT regards it as a computational function.”

These two theories (or, more simply, these two approaches) don’t seem to contradict each other… at least not as expressed in this basic form.

After all, can’t GWT’s “brain structures” be the physical embodiments (or implementations) of IIT’s “computational function[s]”? Unless, that is, the IIT approach completely disregards such (physical) embodiments or implementations. (Critics have also argued something similar about artificial-intelligence theorists and their own algorithms. [See my Chalmers, Penrose and Searle on the (Implicit) Platonism and Dualism of Algorithmic AI’.])

Well, IIT doesn’t ignore the brain. That said, the emphasis on computational function[s] (as with A.I.’s emphasis on algorithms) does seem to lead in that direction.

So do GWT and IIT mutually contradict each other in many ways? Or do they do so in only some ways?

Definitions of the Word ‘Consciousness’

No one can say that “consciousness hasn’t been explained” unless they firstly tell us what consciousness is. Indeed, perhaps this issue of definitions is at least partly behind the entire “problem of consciousness”. (Stressing the importance of definitions has been classed as “pedantic”, “logic chopping” or even worse.)

These comments also impinge on the very nature of the Chalmers-Koch bet.

Specifically, one main purpose of the bet was to see (or to guess) whether or not science would have a satisfactory explanation for consciousness by 2023.

As a perfect example of the consciousness-is-an-unfinished-project position, take this passage from an article called ‘Neuroscientist loses a 25-year bet on consciousness — to a philosopher’:

“We can say, though, that being conscious involves not only having awareness of the outside world, but also having awareness of one’s self and one’s relationship with the environment.”

The author (Mo Costandi) goes on to explain this as follows:

“While the brain surely plays a major role in generating our conscious experiences, awareness of one’s self involves complex interactions between the brain and the body. In order to gain a better understanding of the full spectrum of consciousness, we will need to take these interactions into account.”

It can be strongly suspected that Chalmers himself would have a problem with bringing in the “self” and self-consciousness into a definition of “being conscious”. This won’t be because commentary on the nature of the self and on self-consciousness isn’t part of the overall story of consciousness. It’s just not a necessary part. Indeed, that passage above can be deemed to be anthropocentric. And that’s because this emphasis on the self and self-consciousness would deny many — perhaps even all — animals consciousness.

In detail.

Many philosophers stress various levels of consciousness (perhaps best highlighted in Ned Block’s 1992 paper ‘On a Confusion about a Function of Consciousness’) which seem to have a minimal role (in terms of the conscious entity discussed) for any concepts at all. (“Non-conceptual content” is also relevant here.) What’s more, some levels of consciousness seem even more basic, and therefore they’re even less likely to involve “having awareness of one’s self”. [See note 4.]

As for “having awareness of [] one’s relationship with the environment”: that seems to be even more particular when it comes to definitions of the word “consciousness” or what consciousness is. In other words, it seems to be a strong hint at the ‘extended mind thesis’, ‘embodied cognition’, ‘enactivism’ (or ‘embedded minds’), and perhaps even at the arcane philosophical notion of ‘externalism’.

Relevantly, note the words “minds”, “cognition”, “self” (i.e., not the word “consciousness”) in all these philosophical and scientific terms.

This passage from Mo Costandi [see note 5] shows us that if people define the word “consciousness” in different ways, then that will impact on their attitudes toward what consciousness is. (This is obvious, but still needs stating.)

For example, according to one definition, there is no Hard Problem at all. According to another definition, there is a Hard Problem. Indeed, according some definitions, it may be impossible to solve the Hard Problem precisely because the definitions themselves render any solution impossible. What’s more, perhaps such definitions are explicitly or implicitly (as it were) designed to make the Hard Problem hard (i.e., unsolvable).

So let’s now tackle the Hard Problem.

The Eternal Debate About the Hard Problem

Firstly, I must keep reminding myself — and readers — that the Koch-Chalmers bet wasn’t really about the Hard Problem… at least not directly. [See note 1 again on the lack of detail on this bet.]

In any case, to get a grip on the Hard Problem (see ‘Hard problem of consciousness’), it’s worth discussing the global workplace theory again and tying it directly to this problem.

Firstly, John Horgan writes:

“According to GWT, which was proposed by Bernard Baars in the 1980s, consciousness is generated by core neural architecture that processes largely unconscious information, and then the prefrontal cortex broadcasts that information to a wider network, so that it enters conscious awareness.”

The GWT theory doesn’t immediately seem to help with Chalmers’ Hard Problem. That’s primarily because it’s about how consciousness is generated. However, consciousness itself does then enter this GWT story in that the “prefrontal cortex broadcasts that information to a wider network, so that it enters conscious awareness”.

Yet Chalmers would inevitably say (if in his own words):

Sure!
But why does that information have the particular experiential nature that it does have when it’s “broadcasted”?

In terms of the ‘neural correlates of consciousness’ at the heart of the Koch-Chalmers bet.

To Koch, these correlates are essentially about

“the bits and pieces of the brain that are really essential — really necessary to ultimately generate a feeling of seeing or hearing or wanting”.

Yet Chalmers can still ask his Hard Question about these “bits and pieces of the brain”, and why they generate feelings, seeings and hearings which have the very particular phenomenal qualities (or qualia) which they do have.

In other words, no matter how many correlations are discovered between conscious states and neuronal states (indeed, even if literally all the correlations were discovered), Chalmers could still ask his Hard Question.

What’s more, Chalmers doesn’t appear to be asking for answers which refer to anything physical, functional, structural, evolutionary, etc. Or, at the very least, these things alone will never satisfy Chalmers. Thus:

(1) Chalmers isn’t asking for the physical correlates of experiences.
(2) Chalmers isn’t asking for the causal and physical connections between the brain and experiences — or any connections between experiences and anything physical.
(3) Chalmers isn’t asking for the functional (or otherwise) underpinnings of experiences.
(4) And Chalmers isn’t asking for any evolutionary answers either.

All that said, readers shouldn’t misread that list.

Chalmers is very much interested in “the easy problems of consciousness”. He’s also interested in the scientific nature and role of the neural correlates of consciousness. Indeed, after over three decades of thinking about these issues, he must also be well-versed in the neuroscience of the brain. In other words, Chalmers certainly isn’t an example of one of those philosophers of mind who shows very little interest in neuroscience and in other relevant scientific subjects. (Not that many professional philosophers fit that bill nowadays.)

That said, and as Chalmers himself is keen to stress, all the things referred to above (i.e., in the list) could be instantiated, and the experiences may still not occur. Alternatively, all these things could be instantiated, and the experiences could still be different… even very different.

Put that way, it now seems like Chalmers’ bet was very wise indeed.

Basically, Chalmers knew (or he believed he knew) that he couldn’t loose… at least when it came to his Hard Problem.

Yet on the surface at least, this bet wasn’t really about the Hard Problem. It was specifically about finding the mechanism by which the brain’s neurons produce consciousness” by the year 2023.

So now take these words from John Horgan:

“They agreed that, for Koch to win, the evidence for a neural signature of consciousness must be ‘clear.’ That word ‘clear’ doomed Koch. ‘It’s clear that things are not clear,’ Chalmers said, and Koch, grimacing, concurred.”

These words don’t seem to be about Chalmers’ Hard Problem.

However, if all the correlations were mapped, then there would still be no (to use Koch’s term) “clarity” as to why a single neuronal state brought about the particular conscious state it does bring about. Similarly for all correlated neuronal states (or all the relevant ones) put together: clarity would still not be achieved when it comes to the Hard Problem.

Thus, Chalmers wins again.

Perhaps Chalmers wins again because his Hard Problem is insoluble on his own terms… and even on anyone’s terms.

Of course, Koch mightn’t have been referring to clarity as it’s specifically relevant to the Hard Problem. Yet if the Hard Problem is a genuine problem (i.e., if it’s not a philosophical trick), then there’ll always be a lack of clarity even for the (supposed) easy problems of consciousness.

Horgan himself also seems to argue that Chalmers believes that he knows that his own Hard Problem is insoluble.

For example, in reference to the new bet (i.e., not the original bet of 1998) between Chalmers and Koch, Horgan writes:

“‘I hope I lose,’ Chalmers said, ‘but I suspect I’ll win.’”

Horgan then concludes:

“I suspect so, too. I bet consciousness will be even more baffling in 2048 than it is today. I hope to live long enough to see Koch give Chalmers another case of wine.”

Readers may find it odd (or, as I do, highly suspicious) that Chalmers is so sure that he will “win” the bet yet again in 25 years!

Indeed, Horgan himself tuned into Chalmers’ (I will say it!) mysterianism when he says that “consciousness will be even more baffling” in 25 years.

The problem here is with the word “baffling”.

What kind of problem becomes even more baffling over time, and after more and more people have spent more and more time on it?

A pseudo-problem?

If the Hard Problem isn’t a genuine problem, then it’s not “baffling” at all. Perhaps there’s no solution to it because there can be no solution to it. Perhaps the Hard Problem is (metaphorically) designed to be insoluble.

It now needs to be said that the word “mysterianism” wasn’t used gratuitously a few moments ago. After all, Chalmers himself is keen to tell us the following:

“It started off as a very big philosophical mystery [] But over the years, it’s gradually been transmuting into, if not a ‘scientific’ mystery, at least one that we can get a partial grip on scientifically.”

This passage doesn’t include a concession on Chalmers’ part.

The clause “if not a ‘scientific’ mystery” means that all the (mere) correlations required may well be forthcoming by, say, 128 years and 9 months. However, the Hard Problem with remain with us… forever!


Notes

(1) It should be noted here that I haven’t been able to gain access to the relevant academic papers — for various reasons — on this bet. (There aren’t that many on it anyway.) Thus, I’ve relied on the limited details which can be found in places outside academia’s subscription policies.

In addition, the conference at which the outcome of the bet was decided included so many different philosophers and scientists, with so many different “theories of consciousness”, that it would have been almost impossible to find any relevant material. [See here.]

(2) Isn’t there a (strong) sense that many, most or even all scientific theories are incomplete? Indeed, aren’t even fundamental theories, in some weak sense at least, incomplete?

(3) One way to tie the the neural correlations of consciousness directly to the Hard Problem is the following way.

In many cases, neuroscientists do know that when brain events/states of a certain type occur, then experiences of a certain type occur.

Are these “mere correlations”?

People often — smugly? — use the phrase “correlation doesn’t imply causation”. (This phrase is almost a cliche now.) Sure, the clue is in the word “imply”. Thus, some things may well be correlated, even though there are no causal connections whatsoever between them. However, in many cases, causal connections do actually explain the correlations.

What’s more, not everyone is demanding a necessary connection between neural states/events and conscious states/events. However, there are very many well-documented and well-tested contingent connections. Yet precisely because these connections are all still contingent (i.e., not necessary), then this very contingency has provided grist to the Hard Problem Mill.

(4) There’s a vast amount of literature on these issues in analytic philosophy. And that includes a large number of competing claims and competing technical terms for different aspects of consciousness. Indeed, for around twenty years (say, between 1990 and 2010) , the issue of consciousness was already the most fashionable of all.

(5) Admittedly, Mo Costandi might not have have been putting his own position here. What’s more, this passage isn’t an actual definition of the word “consciousness” as such. However, it does hint at what must be part of — or relevant to — any theory of consciousness.

(*) More technical discussions of the Hard Problem can by found in my following essays: ‘Is There a Hard Problem of Consciousness… and of Everything Else?’, ‘The Questions ‘Why is water wet?’ and ‘Why does the physical give rise to experience?’ are bogus?’, and ‘David Chalmers’ Unanswerable Question: ‘Why do I have THIS experience?’’.

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