*** 4.5 stars ***
Consciousness.
As long as we’ve got it and it's working OK, we don’t tend to think too much about it. All the same, consciousness strikes me as one of the stranger mysteries of existence, given its surprise appearance in an apparently unconscious universe.
Because, as Christoff Koch himself writes, how does the mental get squeezed out of the physical? Despite all the astonishing advances in neuroscience, we still have no idea how to answer this question (often referred to as "the hard problem"). We can pinpoint with increasing accuracy which areas of the brain correlate with various cognitive and motor functions (NCCs, or neural correlates of consciousness). We can artificially stimulate feelings by poking around in the brain (or taking drugs). But where in all this is the experience? Where does it hide? From the outside we see neurons, synapses and associated bits and bobs sparking away in amazing detail. But how does this observable brain activity translate into the very feelings, sensations and thoughts making up our lived experience? A water into wine and stones into bread miracle that we carry around with us every day.
Christof Koch, who previously worked with Francis Crick (of DNA fame), addresses this miracle through the theoretical framework of Integrated Information Theory (IIT), developed by Italian neuroscientist Guilio Tononi. Koch does not trivialise the mysterious aspect of consciousness, but neither does he regard it as outside the scope of scientific inquiry. In The Feeling of Life Itself, Koch makes a valiant (but not entirely successful) attempt to explain IIT for the general reader. More accessibly he discusses some of the scientific and ethical implications of IIT. I have to confess that this book was not always easy going. All the same, I’ll try to provide a brief overview of IIT before touching on some of the more interesting scientific implications and ethical considerations.
Here’s a helpful starting point. Most theories of consciousness begin with the physical aspects of the brain and then ask how and where consciousness emerges. IIT reverses this, beginning with a phenomenological description of experience, and then going on to ask how physical matter needs to be organised to support these mental aspects. In other words, rather than squeezing brains and asking how the juice of consciousness comes out, IIT analyses the juice itself and asks what a kind of a mechanism could produce such juice. The five properties of consciousness Koch identifies probably don’t mean much without extensive description, but here they are: consciousness exists for itself, it is structured, it is informative, it is integrated and it is definite. The first, for example, states that consciousness is entirely subjective and interior. The last states that the things of experience are completely in, or completely out. There is no half-experience. Each of these 5 postulates of experience, Koch claims, has a physical manifestation which enables it. This is demonstrated through lots of circuit diagrams which requires a knowledge of logic gates, the basis of computer technology, something I didn’t even know was a thing. But now I do.
The upshot is the following: “According to IIT, consciousness is determined by the causal properties of any physical system acting upon itself. That is, consciousness is a fundamental property of any mechanism that has cause-effect power upon itself. Intrinsic causal power is the extent to which the current state of, say, an electronic circuit or a neural network, causally constrains its past and future states”. I sort of get this, but only sort of. The point is that any physical structure supporting consciousness has a kind of power over itself, drawing on past states and determining future states.
Another key aspect is expressed by another of Koch’s compact summaries: “Any experience is identical to the maximally irreducible cause-effect structure associated with the system in that state”. By “maximally irreducible” Koch means that a conscious system is irreducible, more than the sum of its parts, and not comprising the part of a greater Whole (the word “Whole” means any “physical substrate” understood to be conscious). That is, any unified mind cannot be made up of lots of smaller mini-minds. Ten dummies closely huddled together don’t make one brainy guy.
Finally, IIT posits that a conscious Whole consists of a maximum of “integrated information” (hence the name of the theory). This maximal integration is given a measure, named “phi”. IIT predicts that systems with sufficiently high phi are integrated enough to attain consciousness. Details aside, the take away is that it’s not how big the brain is, it’s not how many neurons there are, it’s not even how powerful some processing functions are. It’s how integrated these components are, so much so that a Whole does not permit any subsets (smaller parts of itself) or supersets (larger entities of which it is a part) with more integrated information. And in the brain, far more than the most powerful supercomputer, the level of integration is almost unfathomable. 100 trillion synaptic connections amongst over 100 different kinds of neurons, all in complex relationship with each other.
That’s my feeble summary of the hard parts of this book. Thankfully, the further examples and implications provided by Koch sheds some light on this very dense but fascinating topic. I’m just going to randomly list some of the take-aways that grabbed me.
(1) Not every part of the brain is directly connected with conscious experience. There are entire areas of the brain with no direct responsibility for any specific experiences. The cerebellum, for example, containing a whopping share of the brain’s neurons, is important for muscle control and movement, and for some cognitive functions. But remove it, and consciousness remains. According to IIT this is because despite the sheer quantity of neurons in the cerebellum, they are not wired with a sufficient level of integration. Consciousness, however, seems to be the special function of the cortex, particular the rear section, the so-called “posterior hot zone”.
(2) We already know from Dissociative Identity Disorder that more than one conscious 'entity' can be produced by a single brain. Split brain patients are another example. When Roger Sperry famously severed the corpus callosum to relieve the effects of severe epilepsy, later experiments demonstrated that each hemisphere was effectively independent of the other and could truly be called a 'mind of its own'. According to IIT, therefore, each hemisphere in these cases is not half a consciousness, but a full, albeit different, conscious entity. Each has attained phi max, the necessary level of integration for subjective experience to take place. This leads one to think of the brain like a conference centre, able to host more than one event at the same time, although it also appears that only one event gets 'televised' at a time. That is (to change the metaphor), only one conscious identity is behind the steering wheel at a time while the others are grumbling or sulking or sleeping in the back seat.
Where it gets bizarre is a follow up thought experiment proposed by Koch. Imagine a theoretically (but not practically) possible procedure known as "brain-bridging". If the severed corpus callosum was able to be reconnected, the individual ‘personalities’ of each hemisphere would ‘pouf’ out of existence to be replaced by its former integrated consciousness. But why stop there? If brain-bridging could connect your cortex and my cortex, then at some point during this procedure, our own distinct experiences, memories, and sense of identity would completely vanish, to be replaced by a new, single consciousness incorporating the memories and secrets, knowledge and experience, fears and dreams of both of us, combined as one unified self. Yes, science fiction indeed, but with some skerrick of plausibility.
(3) Koch roasts the brain-as-computer and mind-as-software mythos gripping popular imagination and no doubt promoted by Silicon Valley. But distaste of this dominant metaphor aside, IIT itself demonstrates why computers cannot achieve consciousness. No matter how many circuits are piled up, computers have nothing near the complexity and integration observed in organic brains. One of the most instructive diagrams is a consciousness-intelligence plane. On the intelligence axis computers will, and already do, outsmart humans in many areas. But on the consciousness axis computers remain at zero. Even a fly has more of an inner life, miniscule and annoying as it is.
(4) Ethical considerations crop up throughout the book. In a chapter discussing tools to measure consciousness the plight of brain damaged and disordered patients is addressed. The original electroencephalograph (EEG) designed in the 1940’s (its inventor was testing for telepathy!) has advanced to more recent technology measuring perturbational complexity, the way an impulse travels throughout the brain like a resounding bell. This technique – also developed by Tononi – has shown increasing accuracy in identifying consciousness in the absence of more obvious motor responses. A somewhat disturbing finding is that a small number of patients with zero motor responses are nevertheless experiencing some form of conscious awareness.
(5) The final chapter deals with panpsychism. Koch’s answer to the question “Is consciousness everywhere?” is along the lines of “many but not all things are enminded”. Acknowledging the beauty of panpsychism, and the many famous minds who have endorsed it, IIT suggests that many systems are not integrated enough to support IIT. On the other hand, Koch writes “I now know that I live in a universe in which the inner light of experience is far more widespread than assumed within the standard Western canon”.
This particularly applies to the life of animals and their capacity to suffer, a suffering exacerbated by ruthlessly efficient farming and harvesting techniques. Koch even believes that our treatment of aquatic species (think of boiling lobsters alive) needs rethinking. Koch’s ethical stance promotes vegetarianism as an acceptable minimal option and veganism as a stronger stance. However, he also notes that species do not suffer to the same degree or intensity. “The moral privileges we accord to species should reflect this reality: They are not all situated on the same moral rung” (sorry spiders, bad luck ants). Ranking is necessary as “we must take the graded nature of the capacity to experience into account if we are to balance the interests of all creatures against each other”. The mathematical rigour of IIT (perhaps) provides a way of doing this. On the final page Koch commends the work of Peter Singer in this regard and references Matthew 25 (“what you did for the least of these”) in relation to our non-human sentient relatives.
(6) Koch’s book could give the impression that it explains the question posed at the beginning: how the mental arises from the physical. Yet it appears that IIT does no such thing. There is, in the final analysis, probably no answer why a maximum of integrated information should feel like anything. IIT probably goes further in correlating the physical with the mental, but offers no advances on why this should be so. Koch himself regards such speculations as fundamentally absurd, a case of “trying to peek behind the curtains that hide the origin of creation only to find an endless set of further curtains. I will happily go to my grave knowing that in this universe, IIT characterizes the relationship between experiences and their physical substrate”.
(7) One final observation: If one divided the landscape of consciousness theory into the lands of materialism, dualism, idealism, and panpsychism, then IIT would appear to straddle materialism and panpsychism. Reading Koch's book has furthered my appreciation for how our inner, subjective lives are so utterly dependent on the organic, chemical and physical "substrate" of our brain and nervous system, without detracting for a moment from the enigma of consciousness.