I Am a Strange Loop

by Douglas R. Hofstadter

It was almost as if this slippery phenomenon called “consciousness” lifted itself up by its own bootstraps, almost as if it made itself out of nothing, and then disintegrated back into nothing whenever one looked at it more closely.

I found the parallel between Gödel’s miraculous manufacture of self-reference out of a substrate of meaningless symbols and the miraculous appearance of selves and souls in substrates consisting of inanimate matter so compelling that I was convinced that here lay the secret of our sense of “I”, and thus my book Gödel, Escher, Bach came about (and acquired a catchier title).

despite the book’s popularity, it always troubled me that the fundamental message of GEB (as I always call it, and as it is generally called) seemed to go largely unnoticed. People liked the book for all sorts of reasons, but seldom if ever for its most central raison d’être! Years went by, and I came out with other books that alluded to and added to that core message, but still there didn’t seem to be much understanding out there of what I had really been trying to say in GEB.

It took me a good deal longer than I had expected to finish it (some of my readers will recognize this as a quintessential example of Hofstadter’s Law, which states, “It always takes longer than you think it will take, even when you take into account Hofstadter’s Law”), and worse, the chapter wound up being four times longer than the specified limit — a disaster!

So yes, in the end, I am a kind of specialist — I specialize in thinking about thinking.

And one of my firmest conclusions is that we always think by seeking and drawing parallels to things we know from our past, and that we therefore communicate best when we exploit examples, analogies, and metaphors galore, when we avoid abstract generalities, when we use very down-to-earth, concrete, and simple language, and when we talk directly about our own experiences.

I have long been struck by the poetic title of André Malraux’s famous novel La Condition humaine. I guess each of us has a personal sense of what this evocative phrase means, and I would characterize I Am a Strange Loop as being my own best shot at describing what “the human condition” is.

And you have said that you consider the soul as the ability to think? PLATO: Yes. SOCRATES: Then you are really seeking the answer to “What is thinking?”

It is curious, how one often mistrusts one’s own opinions if they are stated by someone else.

SOCRATES: Then once again, these conscious thoughts are produced by reflex action. PLATO: I do not see how I can know I am conscious, how I can feel alive, if this is true, yet I have followed your argument. SOCRATES: But this argument itself shows that your reaction is merely habit, or reflex action, and that no conscious thought is leading you to say you know you are alive. If you stop to consider it, do you really understand what you mean by saying such a sentence? Or does it just come into your mind without your thinking consciously of it? PLATO: Indeed, I am so confused I scarcely know.

PLATO: Then feeling one is alive is merely an illusion propagated by a reflex that urges one to utter, without understanding, such a sentence, and a truly living creature is reduced to a collection of complex reflexes. Then you have told me, Socrates, what you think life is.

The marks on those sheets of paper are no less than soul-shards — scattered remnants of the shattered soul of Frédéric Chopin. Each of those strange geometries of notes has a unique power to bring back to life, inside our brains, some tiny fragment of the internal experiences of another human being — his sufferings, his joys, his deepest passions and tensions — and we thereby know, at least in part, what it was like to be that human being, and many people feel intense love for him.

Another part of me, however, wants to reply, “Of course I think about the human brain. By definition, I think about the brain, since the human brain is precisely the machinery that carries out human thinking.”

My point is simple: abstractions are central, whether in the study of literature or in the study of the brain. Accordingly, I herewith propose a list of abstractions that “researchers of the brain” should be just as concerned with:

Just as the notion of “gene” as an invisible entity that enabled the passing-on of traits from parents to progeny was proposed and studied scientifically long before any physical object could be identified as an actual carrier of such traits, and just as the notion of “atoms” as the building blocks of all physical objects was proposed and studied scientifically long before individual atoms were isolated and internally probed, so any of the notions listed above might legitimately be considered as invisible structures for brain researchers to try to pinpoint physically in the human brain.

Dealing with brains as multi-level systems is essential if we are to make even the slightest progress in analyzing elusive mental phenomena such as perception, concepts, thinking, consciousness, “I”, free will, and so forth. Trying to localize a concept or a sensation or a memory (etc.) down to a single neuron makes no sense at all.

There exists within the cranium a whole world of diverse causal forces; what is more, there are forces within forces within forces, as in no other cubic half-foot of universe that we know….

Man over the chimpanzee has ideas and ideals. In the brain model proposed here, the causal potency of an idea, or an ideal, becomes just as real as that of a molecule, a cell, or a nerve impulse. Ideas cause ideas and help evolve new ideas. They interact with each other and with other mental forces in the same brain, in neighboring brains, and, thanks to global communication, in far distant, foreign brains. And they also interact with the external surroundings to produce in toto a burst-wise advance in evolution that is far beyond anything to hit the evolutionary scene yet, including the emergence of the living cell.

“this teetering bulb of dread and dream”

(The marvelously evocative phrase in quotes, serving also as this chapter’s title, is taken from “The Floor” by American poet Russell Edson.)

Do dreads and dreams, hopes and griefs, ideas and beliefs, interests and doubts, infatuations and envies, memories and ambitions, bouts of nostalgia and floods of empathy, flashes of guilt and sparks of genius, play any role in the world of physical objects? Do such pure abstractions have causal powers? Can they shove massive things around, or are they just impotent fictions? Can a blurry, intangible “I” dictate to concrete physical objects such as electrons or muscles (or for that matter, books) what to do?

Have religious beliefs caused any wars, or have all wars just been caused by the interactions of quintillions (to underestimate the truth absurdly) of infinitesimal particles according to the laws of physics?