Showing posts with label experience. Show all posts
Showing posts with label experience. Show all posts

Saturday, August 23, 2025

Gaze dualism and omnisubjectivity

I have toyed with a pair of theories.

The first is what I call gaze-dualism. On gaze-dualism, our sensory conscious experiences are constituted by a non-physical object—the soul—“gazing” at certain brain states. When the sensory data changes—say, when a sound goes from middle A to middle C—the subjective experience changes. But this change need not involve an intrinsic change in the soul. The change in experience is grounded in a change in the gazed-at brain state, a brain state that reflects the sensory data, rather than by a change in the gazing soul. (This is perhaps very close to Aquinas’ view of sensory consciousness, except that for Aquinas the gazed-at states are states of sense organs rather than of the brain.)

The second is an application of this to God’s knowledge of contingent reality. God knows contingent reality by gazing at it the way that our soul gazes at the brain states that reflect sensory data. God does not intrinsically change when contingent reality changes—the change is all on the side of the gazed-at contingent reality.

I just realized that this story makes a bit of progress on what Linda Zagzebski calls “omnisubjectivity”—God’s knowledge of all subjective states. My experience of hearing a middle C comes from my gazing at a brain state BC of my auditory center produced by nerve impulses caused by my tympanic membrane vibrating at 256 Hz. My gaze is limited to certain aspects of my auditory center—my gaze tracks whatever features of my auditory center are relevant to the sound, features denoted by BC, but does not track features of my auditory center that are not relevant to the sound (e.g., the temperature of my neurons). God’s gaze is not so limited—God gazes at every aspect of my auditory center. But in doing so, he also gazes at BC. This does not mean that God has the same experience as I do. My experience is partly constituted by my soul’s gaze at BC. God’s experience is partly constituted by God’s gaze at BC. Since my soul is very different from God, it is not surprising that the experiences are different. However, God has full knowledge of the constituents of my experience: myself, my gaze, and BC, and God’s knowledge of these is basically experiential—it is constituted by God’s gazing at me, my gaze, and BC. And God also gazes at their totality. This is, I think, all we need to be able to say that God knows my sensory consciousness states.

My non-sensory experiences may also be constituted by my soul’s gazing at a state of my brain, but they may also be constituted by the soul’s gazing at a state of the soul. And God gazes at the constituents and whole again.

Wednesday, September 22, 2021

Against digital phenomenology

Suppose a digital computer can have phenomenal states in virtue of its computational states. Now, in a digital computer, many possible physical states can realize one computational state. Typically, removing a single atom from a computer will not change the computational state, so both the physical state with the atom and the one without the atom realize the same computational state, and in particular they both have the same precise phenomenal state.

Now suppose a digital computer has a maximally precise phenomenal state M. We can suppose there is an atom we can remove that will not change the precise phenomenal state it is in. And then another. And so on. But then eventually we reach a point where any atom we remove will change the precise phenomenal state. For if we could continue arbitrarily long, eventually our computer would have no atoms, and then surely it wouldn’t have a phenomenal state.

So, we get a sequence of physical states, each differing from the previous by a single atom. For a number of initial states in the sequence, we have the phenomenal state M. But then eventually a single atom difference destroys M, replacing it by some other phenomenal state or by no phenomenal state at all.

The point at which M is destroyed cannot be vague. For while it might be vague whether one is seeing blue (rather than, say, purple) or whether one is having a pain (rather than, say, an itch), whether one has the precise phenomenal state M is not subject to vagueness. So there must be a sharp transition. Prior to the transition, we have M, and after it we don’t have M.

The exact physical point at which the transition happens, however, seems like it will have to be implausibly arbitrary.

This line of argument suggests to me that perhaps functionalists should require phenomenal states to depend on analog computational states, so that an arbitrarily small of the underlying physical state can still change the computational state and hence the phenomenal state.

Thursday, July 29, 2021

God's vision of reality

Consider the simple theory of visual sensation on which for me to have a visual sensation as of y is for x to stand in a “vision relation” to y, with the relation being external to x so that x is no different intrinsically when x has a visual sensation as of a red cube and when x does not.

We know that this simple theory is false of us for the obvious reason that we suffer from visual hallucinations or illusions: there are cases where we have a visual sensation as of a red cube in the absence of a red cube. Our best explanation of visual misperception is that visual sensation is mediated by an internal state of ours that can occur in the absence of the apparently visually sensed object. Thus, we have internal modifications—accidents—of visual perception.

But now consider what I think of as the biggest objection to the doctrine of divine simplicity: God’s knowledge of contingent facts. This objection holds that God must be internally different in worlds where what he knows is different, or at least sufficiently different. This objection is based on the intuition that knowledge is written into the knower, that it is an intrinsic qualification of the knower.

Let’s, however, think what a perfect knower’s knowledge would be like. My knowledge divides into the dispositional and the occurrent: I dispositionally know my multiplication table, but at most one fact from that table is occurrent at any given time. It is clear that having merely dispositional knowledge is not the perfection of knowledge. A perfect knower would know all reality occurrently at once. Moreover, my knowledge varies in vividness. Some things, like perhaps the fundamental theorem of algebra, I know “theoretically” (in the modern sense of the word, not the etymological one) and “discursively”, and some facts—such as my visual knowledge of the screen in front of me—are vividly present to my mind. The vivid knowledge is more perfect, so we would expect a perfect knower to know all reality occurrently at once in the liveliest and most vivid way, more like in a vision of reality than in a discursive mental representation.

Let’s go back to the simple theory of visual sensation. Our reason for rejecting that theory in our own case was that it did not accord with the fact that humans are subject to visual misperception. But suppose that we never misperceived. Then we could easily believe the simple theory, at least until we learned a bit more about the contingent causal processes behind our visual processing.

Thus, the reason for rejecting the simple theory in our case was our imperfection. But this leaves open the possibility that something like the simple theory could hold for the vision-like knowledge of reality that a perfect knower would have. Such a knower might not have any internal state “mirroring” reality, but might simply have reality related to it in a relation of being-known which is external on the knower’s side. In the case of a perfect knower, we have no need to account for a possibility of misperception. Thus, the perfect knower may know me simply by having me be related to it by a relation of being-known, a relation external to the knower.

Objection 1: How do we account for God’s knowledge of absences, such as his knowledge that there are no unicorns? This cannot be accounted for by a relation between God and the absence of unicorns, since there is no such thing as the absence of unicorns.

Response: In the case of an imperfect knower, absence of knowledge is not knowledge of absence, since there is always the possibility of mere ignorance. But perhaps in the case of a perfect knower, knowledge of absence is constituted by absence of knowledge.

Objection 2: This account makes the perfect knower’s “knowledge” too different from ours for us to use the same word “knowledge” for both.

Response 1: We have good reason to think that all words applied to us and the perfect being to be applied merely analogously. A perfect being would be radically different from us.

Response 2: While the simple theory is false of us, given dualism we may have a somewhat more complex theory that is not so different from what I said about God. We have significant empirical reason to think that the brain is modified by our visual experiences, and that our visual experience is in some way determined by an internal state of the brain. However, if we are dualists, we will not think that the internal state of the brain is sufficient to produce a visual experience. There could be zombies with brains in the same state that we are in when we are seeing a red cube, but who do not see.

We can now give two different dualist theories about how I come to see a red cube. Both theories suppose an internal red-cube-mirroring state rb of my brain. On the causal theory, the state rb then causes an internal state rs of the soul (=mind) which mirrors the relevant features of rb, and I have a red-cube experience precisely in virtue of my soul hosting rs. But the causal theory is not the only option for the dualist. There is also a relational theory, on which my red-cube experience is constituted by my soul’s standing in an external relation to the brain state rb.

The two theories yield different predictions as to possibilities. On the causal theory, it is possible for me to have a red-cube experience in a world where God and my soul (and my soul’s states and me-constituted-by-my-soul) are all that exists—all that’s needed is for God to miraculously cause rs in my soul in the absence of rb. On the relational theory, on the other hand, I can only have a red-cube experience when my soul stands in a certain external relation to a brain state, and in that God-and-my-soul world, there are no brain states.

The causal theory of our visual perception is indeed very different from the external-relation theory of divine knowledge. The relational theory, however, is more analogous. The main difference is that our visual experiences come not from our mind’s direct relation to the external world, but from our mind’s (=soul’s) direct relation to a representing brain state. And that is very much a difference we would expect given our imperfection and God’s perfection: we would expect a perfect knower’s knowledge to be unmediated.

We have reason independent of divine simplicity not to opt for the causal theory in the case of God. First, on the causal theory, we seem to have great power over God: every movement of ours causes an effect in God. That seems to violate divine aseity. Second, the causal theory in the case of God seems to lead to a nasty infinite causal chain: if God’s vision-like knowledge of y is caused by y, then we would expect that God’s knowledge of his knowledge of y is caused by his knowledge of y, which leads to an infinite causal chain. Moreover, God would know every item in this infinite sequence, which leads to a second causal chain (God’s knowledge of God’s knowledge of … the first chain). This would violate causal finitism, besides seeming simply wrong.

Do we have independent reason to opt for the causal over the relational theory in our case, or perhaps the other way around? I don’t know. Until today, I assumed the causal theory to be correct. But the relational theory makes for a more intimate connection between the soul and brain, and this is somehow appealing.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Naturalism and second-order experiences

My colleague Todd Buras has inspired this argument:

  1. A veridical experience of an event is caused by the event.
  2. Sometimes a human being is veridically experiencing that she has some experience E at all the times at which E is occurring.
  3. If (1) and (2), then there is intra-mental simultaneous event causation.
  4. If naturalism about the human mind is true, there is no intra-mental simultaneous causation.
  5. So, naturalism about the human mind is not true.
In this argument, (4) is a posteriori: if naturalism is true, mental activity occurs at best at the speed of light. I am sceptical about (2) myself.

Friday, May 20, 2016

Experiencing present events and simultaneous causation

When I look at a rock, I see the rock and not just its outside surface. Of course, it is the outside layer that is causally responsible for my perception: a typical rock would look the same (except when intense light was shining through it) if suddenly all but the outer one millimeter of it disappeared. Similarly, when I see an event like a ball flying through the air, I see an event that includes the ball's presently flying through the air, even though it is only the temporal parts of the event fractions of a second prior to my perception that are causally responsible for my perception, since it takes light a few of nanoseconds to get to me from the ball and then it takes my visual apparatus rather longer to process it, and I need to process data from two different times in order to get the perception of motion. In both cases the data is processed without my being aware of it, and a rock or an event that includes the present is presented to me. If all goes well, this is veridical, though it could happen that there is no rock but a mere shell or that the ball was annihilated just before I had the perception.

So, in these experiences, when things go well, I have an experience of something extended through space and/or time caused by a very small proper part of the object of the experience. But veridical experiences must be caused by their objects (and in the right way). This means that a whole can count as causing something that is only caused by a proper part. (There are, of course, plenty of non-perceptual examples.) Moreover, notice that the case of the ball flying through the air, then, is a case of something like simultaneous causation when all goes well: a temporally extended event of the ball flying--including its flying now--causes my present perception, and the two events temporally overlap.

But this instance of simultaneous causation seems grounded in a case of non-simultaneous causation: a past temporal part of the ball's flight causing a present experience. That may be so. However, for all we know this non-simultaneous causation could be grounded in a finite sequence of fundamental simultaneous causations between temporally-extended temporally-simple events.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Not only am I myself, but I am my self

  1. (Premise) I am experiencing writing this post.
  2. (Premise) My self is experiencing writing this post.
  3. (Premise) Only one entity is experiencing writing this post.
  4. So, I am my self.

This is an oblique partial Olsonesque response to a paper by Himma. It's not fully a response.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Experiences and presentism

That x is having a certain kind of conscious experience at t is not just a claim about what is happening right at t. If mental processes are in some way correlated with physical processes, then this follows from the fact that it does not really make sense to talk of the instantaneous state of the physical process (think, for instance, of wave phenomena or classical momenta—these are defined in terms of what happens at other times). But even without this correlation, this is plausible. Thought experiment: imagine seeing a red circle for a tenth of a second with no after image and no memory (the memory is wiped instantly). You see an obvious flash. Shorten the amount of time you're seeing the red circle. Eventually, you don't see it at all.

But if presentism is true, isn't this really weird? It would be really weird if my present conscious state were partly constituted by past-tensed states of affairs. The eternalist (or even growing block theorist) can talk of a temporally extended conscious state. That's not a problem. But the presentist can only talk of the present conscious state together with some (dodgy) past-tensed states, like having seen a red circle a quarter of a second ago. Of course, folks who think that beings coming out of swamps at random couldn't be conscious even if they had souls will not be bothered by this.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Knowing what pains are like without ever having had one

The following principle is very plausible:
(*) One can only know what a pain is like if one has had a pain.
The principle is also plausible if one replaces "pain" with "pleasure", "auditory experience", "olfactory sensation", "pleasure", "a feeling of warmth", etc. However, (*) is false unless a certain version of disjunctivism is true. My argument for this shall apply to all the related principles as well.

Suppose we have Mary and Patricia. Mary is a neuroscientist who has never felt a pain. Patricia has had several physically painful, but non-traumatic, experiences in the past. She is not currently in pain. As long as Patricia remembers her painful experiences, we will say that Patricia knows what a pain is like. Moreover, let us suppose that it is not painful for Patricia to remember her painful experiences. It is typically painful to remember traumatic pains, and it is often painful to remember psychological pains, but it is often not painful to remember non-traumatic physical pains, and we can suppose that Patricia's are such. This supposition does not put into question Patricia's knowledge of what pain is like. We learn from these considerations that a version of (*) where "has had" is replaced with "is having" is very implausible.

Now, suppose that Mary implants in herself the memories of Patricia's painful experiences. If Patricia knows what pain is like on the basis of the memories, Mary should be able to know what pain is like on the basis of what she has just implanted in herself. Now, granted, what Mary has as a result of the memory implant are not strictly speaking memories, but apparent memories. If Patricia painfully fell of a bike at age 11, then Mary now has an apparent memory of painfully falling off a bike at age 11. But this memory is merely apparent because Mary did not in fact painfully fall of her bike at age 11. But it does not matter whether the memories be veridical or merely apparent for the knowledge of what pain is like. Mary knows that these are merely quasi-memories (to use Shoemaker's term), since she implanted them herself. But it seems plausible that they give her just as good an insight into what it would be like to have a pain as Patricia's genuine memories do.

Patricia knows by means of being able to see in memory what the experience of pain was like--without actually feeling the pain she is observing in memory. That the painful experience actually happened seems irrelevant to this, and if it is irrelevant to this, then it seems that Mary ought to be able to see in quasi-memory what the experience of pain was like. Subjectively speaking, after all, to remember and quasi-remember (or apparently remember) surely feels the same.

There is an objection to this argument, namely disjunctivism. If experiences feel differently depending on whether they are veridical or not (Ram Neta defends this view), then Patricia's memory and Mary's quasi-memory may not be similar enough for Mary to be able to know what the pain was like. But a disjunctivism about memory does not seem deeply plausible. Our memories are often foggy even when veridical. That they really do feel different when they are veridical does not appear all that plausible to me. But I have no solid argument against this disjunctivist thesis, and hence all I can say is that if this kind of disjunctivism is false, then one can know what pains are like without having had any.

Note: If the mental locally supervenes on the physical (at least for humans), Mary doesn't even need Patricia for this. She can just run a computer simulation of her brain, body and environment to figure out what her neural memory-correlate state (i.e., the neural state correlated with the memory of the event) would be several years after herself painfully falling off a bicycle, and then implant that neural state in herself.

Related question: Can God, without making use of the Incarnation, know what pains are like? The main reason to deny that apart from the Incarnation, God can know what pains are like is something like (*), combined with a claim that God doesn't feel pain qua God. My above argument, however, shows that (*) is probably false. And this undercuts the main reason for denying that God knows what pains are like. If one could show that my counterexample to (*) is the only kind there can be--so one must either be in pain or have a memory of pain or have a quasi-memory of pain to know what a pain is like--then one could rescue the argument against the possibility of God knowing what pains are like, since divine perfection is incompatible with non-veridical quasi-memories.