Bilby wrote:The point is to have a go. So don’t hold back because I doubt anyone here is an expert.
Thanks for the invitation - pressure's on to come up with a contribution! I really don't have much speculation on the low-level physical workings of the brain to contribute, but I'll share something else with you that you might like. My idea is that intelligent consciousness can be likened to biological evolution.
To start with, I'll define a "thought process" as "the following through in the mind of an associative chain of thought or the recalling of a memory". In this analogy then, a thought process can be likened to a species, and the particular occurrence in the mind over an interval of time of that thought process can be likened to a biological animal of that species with a lifespan. So a thought is "alive" in the brain and is competing with lots of other thoughts for survival - strength of survival being analogous to the primacy of the thought in consciousness as well as strength of its "fitness marker", which I'll describe shortly. Now we can consider that thought processes sometimes die an ugly death - the "predators" of opposing critical thoughts in our mind kill them, leaving a partial gravestone. If an animal of that species lives again, it will have to evolve in some way to avoid another death by criticism. This is where the role of randomness in the brain comes in - and it's why we often return to things that we've already decided are wrong - we're opening the possibility that some fluctuation in the mind evolves our thought process in a way that allows it to evade our critical thoughts. If not, then it will again be eaten up and the gravestone will be built up a little bit more.
On the other hand, if the thought is particularly free from criticism and meets some criteria of novelty, then we have an "aha" moment and rather than a gravestone being erected, a light bulb is illuminated. I'm using two different symbols here (gravestone and light bulb) but really I intend them to represent a single continuum of "fitness" (in the sense of natural selection) of the thought process. Here's where the analogy breaks down a little, because in biological evolution each animal's life doesn't affect some fitness marker as I'm suggesting that each individual thought's lifespan does.
The mind starts to become aware of the growing gravestones and lightbulbs, and is reluctant to give birth to an animal of that species if the gravestone is too solid: in other words, species of thought are given a chance to evolve, but if after several attempts they fail to evolve then that species goes extinct (of course in the mind there's no such thing as total extinction because we can always forcibly choose to follow a doomed line of thought anyway, just for the pure experience of it, but you get my point I hope). The reason that it avoids the chains of thought marked by gravestones is that critical death is painful, and the mind seeks to avoid suffering even though it recognises that a certain level is unavoidable if it is to continue thinking. Likewise it hankers after the pleasure of the aha moments and is eager to give birth to thought processes marked by light bulbs. Here we can return to the evolutionary analogy, because each time such a thought process is given birth to its predators are given a chance to mutate and evolve in parallel, so our successful thought species are constantly being challenged to evolve themselves.
So given all of that we can explain a bit about personalities. The person with low self esteem might be someone whose predators are currently overpowering the benign and creative species of thought, to the point that there are so many gravestones that the process of mental evolution is finding it hard to come up with any successful benign thought processes to base a mutation on, or to ignite pleasurable sensations. The very rational person might be one whose predators and prey are able to maintain a good balance. Some types of very creative people might be those whose random mutations are more severe than other people's and who have relatively weak predators.
Bilby wrote:Yes, I’m saying the correspondence is diminished. When we see a vivid, blue dot on a page, our perception of that dot is maybe only 1% of the incoming stimulus. Nature usually takes the easiest way out. It’s important to be able to distinguish a poisonous red berry from an edible blue berry the same size, but anything more than that is superfluous.
I'd be more comfortable writing that different aspects of consciousness make use of different aspects of sensory data. For example, if I glance at your blue berry, I might simply perceive a round, blue, edible object. If I observe it with the purpose of discerning its suitability as a snack, I might then perceive that there are small brown markings on it. Now, was the light data from my eye that indicated small brown markings "approximated" during my glance, or is it more appropriate to say that it was "ignored"? I prefer to think that it was ignored, but even this is not totally accurate, because it's sometimes possible to retrieve from memory information that I was initially ignorant of.
For example, if I'm having a conversation with someone and my mind drifts so that I'm not hearing what they're saying, and then I realise that I haven't been paying attention, I can often think to myself, "oh, now what have I just missed" and be able to recall maybe a sentence or two of the speaker's words that I hadn't originally been aware of.
Is this as possible with the berry example? I haven't really experimented as much and it probably varies between people, but I would suggest that even after a brief glance in which you weren't aware of the small brown markings, chances are that if you thought carefully about your memory in the right way, and had been particularly alert during the glance, you might become aware of them.
Bilby wrote:If we had the right technology, we probably would have identified thought particles by now. Size is the problem. You’d need very elegant, quantum-scaled machinery to trace incoming impulses, track where these are going, detect whatever minute particles these are offloading, and follow these particles to wherever they go. All of this would be very difficult to do with a live brain, let alone a dead one.
Right, so you seem to be contending that thought particles are entirely contained within the brain such that they never escape its bounds and would require in-brain technology to detect them. First off, how do you explain that such a particle would never escape the brain? Secondly, what feature of these particles makes them more suitable for describing the low-level processes of thought than any other particles, such as those contained in the chemicals that you already recognise as part of an experience? In other words: why do we need a new particle when science has already provided us with a lovely selection to build on?