What do we want to be free from? That is the question that drives Michael Gazzaniga's inquiry about free will and the science of the brain. "We don't want to be free from our experience of life, we need that for decisions. We don't want to be free from our temperament because that also guides our decisions. We actually don't want to be free from causation, we use that for prediction. A receiver trying to catch a football does not want to be free from all the automatic adjustments that his body is making to maintain his speed and trajectory as he dodges tackles. We don't want to be free from our successfully evolved decision-making device. What do we want to be free from?"
I awaken at 5:30 in the morning. Gradually my mind becomes cognitive (conscious) again. My body is telling me to stay put. Don't get up. Rest some more. I lie still for many more minutes, and inevitably my mind starts to race about what I need to do (or don't need to do) in the coming day. I need to get out of bed and start doing things. But when? I can probably afford to lie in bed until 7am and still do what I need to do over the course of the remaining day. I lie still for awhile longer. It is now forty-five minutes later. My mind wrestles with whether I should continue to try and rest or get out of bed and start being active. I cannot lie still anymore. I tell myself I will get out of bed and read a chapter of Michael Gazzaniga's book, Who's In Charge? and I do. I had a decision to make and I made it: I got out of bed at 6:15am instead of perhaps 7am. Is that what free-will is all about? What was I free from? No one else was dictating that I stay in bed. There was no social rule telling me I had to stay in bed until 7am. My body was not chained to the bed. But was this decision entirely unchained from all causes? Jaak Panskepp has compellingly explained that our Seeking urges begin with our automatic impulses deep in the subcortical areas of our brain, (see previous post), so perhaps my urge to read and learn and cease lying down was something less than volitional?
Much of what we humans and other animals do in our lives is automatic, unconscious, instinctive. As Panksepp points out, even learning, memory, and habit formation is unconscious. What is learned and habitual is not the stuff of choices and decision trees, and yet choice is what free will is purportedly about. And choice, the hallmark of "who's in charge," is typically assigned to the neocortex of the brain that resides on top of the limbic system and the forebrain. Yet if we concur with Panksepp that it is the brain's subcortical emotional system that energizes the neocortex, not the other way around, the role of the neocortex appears to be only regulatory of the urges that come from below the cortex: controlling and inhibiting impulses, instinct, and habit, not initiating behavior in the first instance.
For Gazzaniga, neuroscience (the study of the brain) does not offer much support for the common understanding of free will. The evidence from neuroscience is inconsistent with free will. Gazzaniga's first point is that there is no single executive decision center in the brain. The brain is composed of distinct modules, and while we may have a unified sense of self and making decisions, neuroscience does not support our sense that we are making decisions entirely liberated from either the environment around us or within us. Our sense of psychological unity, says Gazzaniga, emerges out of specialized system in the left side of our neocortex, which he call The Interpreter. (See June 12, 2011 post and June 5, 2011 post). This is the area of the brain in which the human tendency to want to explain things is found as well as our capacity for imagination. (See May 22, 2011 post). But as Gazzaniga explains, The Interpreter is slow. It comes to life after the event it seeks to explain has occurred. So what does it mean that we humans build our theories about ourselves after the fact? "This post hoc interpreting process has implications for and an impact on the big questions of free will and determinism."
Gazzaniga cites research by Hakwan Lau of Columbia University that purports to show how the brain could lead the mind into thinking that the explanation developed by The Interpreter after a certain behavior was an intention occurring before a spontaneous action occurred; in essence, tricking the mind into thinking that the explanation was an intention. Lau discovered that an area of the brain in the frontal cortex known as the supplemental motor area (SMA) (involved with planning of motor actions that are sequences of action done from memory). An area called the pre-SMA is involved with creating new sequences of action in memory, which gives one the feeling of the urge to move (perhaps not unlike my getting out of bed in the morning to read Gazzaniga's book). It is the pre-SMA area that is activated when humans generate actions of their own choice. Lau applied transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS) to the pre-SMA that locally activates nerve cells in the pre-SMA. Describing Lau's research, Gazzaniga explains: "When TMS is applied over the pre-SMA after the execution of a spontaneous action, the perceived onset of the intention to act, that moment when you become conscious that you intend to act, is shifted backward in time on the temporal map, and the perceived time of the actual action, the moment when you are conscious that your acting, is shifted forward in time." In other words, the perceived onset of intention depends, at least in part, on neural activity that takes place after the execution of action. While Lau is careful to say that without further experimentation "one cannot draw the strong conclusion that the experience of having conscious control of a simple motor action [e.g. getting out of bed in the morning] is entirely illusory," he adds that his experimental "results throw doubt on the commonsensical view that the experience of intention, including the experienced onset, is completely determined before an action." Lau adds, "An alternative view that is compatible with the data is that one function of the experience of intention [even if it occurs afterwards] might be to help clarify the ownership of actions, which can help to guide future actions." Gazzaniga concludes, however, that The Interpreter "makes the story fit with the pleasing idea one actually willed the action." Free will is illusory, he says.
There is certainly no consensus among neuroscientists and psychologists over this research, just as thousands of years of philosophical debate has not achieved consensus about free-will. But one truth about free-will drawn from the philosophical debate is that it is at least a theoretical construct used to justify the notion of personal responsibility for one's actions. And that leads to the discussion of whether our free-will, if it really does exist, is limited to self-control and regulating existing tendencies of human behavior that are selfish or impulsive or emotionally driven? This is where I think Jaak Panksepp is coming from (see previous post) when he says, "At primary-process levels of emotional processing there is no free will, there is no 'controlled cognitions.' Neither do the automatic secondary processes of learning and memory functions, that are molded by our wild animal passions developmentally, exhibit free will. That can only emerge from well-sculpted, deeply reflective, cognitive attitudes." Free-will is reflected in those "controlled cognitions" that respond to the neocortex being energized by the emotional systems of the subcortical areas of the brain. There is consensus that the ability to deliberate and rationally choose between different courses of actions. As Antonio Damasio has documented in Looking for Spinoza and Descartes Error, choosing between different courses of action is not an act of cognition alone, but of cognition and emotion in tandem. (See also April 8, 2011 post). There are certain emotions that are linked with feelings of responsibility such as sympathy and regret and these emotions do not originate in the cortex where the brain's "executive control" is said to reside.
Yet what inspires those controlled cognitions? I submit it is memory and culture and our body's biochemistry. And that brings us to Gazzaniga's chapter on the "the social mind," a subject that is covered in many previous posts dealing with mirror neurons, mimicry, moral feelings and related emotions. (See November 21, 2012, September 17, 2012, September 12, 2012, December 10, 2011, posts). Gazzaniga endorses this point of view. Echoing Christopher Boehm (see November 21, 2012 post), Gazzaniga writes, "If Michael Tomasello and Brian Hare are correct that we have been domesticating ourselves over thousands of years through ostracizing and killing those who were too aggressive, in essence removing them from the gene pool and modifying our social environment, then we have been making rules for groups to live by and enforcing them throughout our evolutionary history." Gazzaniga adds, "The culture to which we belong actually plays a significant role in shaping some of our cognitive processes." And in terms of our biochemistry, Gazzaniga notes, "'Easterners and Westerners also vary in their genetic makeup . . . Much research had already shown that serotonin plays a part in attention, cognitive flexibility, and long-term memory, so [researchers] decided that looking into a specific serotonin system polymorphism (a DNA sequence variation), which was known to affect an individual's mode of thinking, could prove fruitful [in accounting for differences in attention across cultures]. They looked at different alleles (genes which have different nucleic acid sequences occupying the same position on a paired chromosome that control the same inherited characteristic) of the 5-HTRIA gene that ultimately controls neurotransmission of serotonin. They found that there was a significant interaction between the type of 5-HTRIA alleles a person had and the culture in which he lived. This interaction affected where that particular person's attention was directed. Those person processing the identical DNA sequences in the matched gene pairs (homozygous) G allege, which is associated with the reduced ability to adapt to changes, more strongly endorse the culturally reinforced mode of thinking than those with homozygous C allele. . . Summarizing these findings, these researchers concluded, 'The same genetic predispositions can result in different psychological outcomes, depending on an individual's cultural context.'"
Gazzaniga suggests that what is sorely needed in this discussion is new terminology, which may be another way of saying that the discussion needs to be repurposed. For example, we can abandon thousands of years of debate that this discussion is between causal determinism and free-will. This is essentially conceding to neuroscientists and others that our actions are determined in many respects by biology and the environment (including culture), and that cognition is not truly independent of biology and the environment. Professors Ryan and Deci at the University of Rochester and others use a different terminology, "self-determination" and autonomy (self-regulation). Self-determination and autonomy are not liberated from causal influences that motivate behavior ("people's autonomy lies not in being independent causes but in exercising their capacity to reflectively endorse or reject prompted actions"). They are not "free" in that sense. Critical to these terms is that our neocortex "assents" to whatever we have been motivated to do after some reflection. This rules out instinctive, habitual, unconscious behavior, and since we arguably assent habitually to much of our behavior each day without much reflection, it focuses on true choices. This cognitive scenario may very well involve a narrow subset of human life. I would think this is heavily an exercise exhibiting self-control.
Responsibility is a social construct, Gazzaniga says, echoing John Searle's deontological view of how humans construct a social reality. (See February 24, 2013 post). "Responsibility is not located in the brain. The brain has no area or network for responsibility. . . the way to think about responsibility is that it is an interaction between people, a social contract. Responsibility reflects a rule that emerges out of one or more agents interacting in a social context, and the hope that we share is that each individual will follow certain rules." But there are aspects of the brain that do lead to this interaction between people in a social context and support the development of rules for responsibility, and we have identified these in prior posts: the emotional systems and structures of the brain that promote care, grief, play, empathy, sympathy, fear, among others. (See May 19, 2013 post and November 21, 2012 post).
Showing posts with label consciousness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label consciousness. Show all posts
Monday, July 15, 2013
Friday, April 8, 2011
Antonio Damasio, Self Comes to Mind (2010)
Antonio Damasio's Self Comes to Mind is the third in a sequence of books in this blog following John Searle's Philosophy in the 21st Century (see January 21, 2011 post) and David Hume's Treatise on Human Nature (see February 27, 2011 post) relating to consciousness and the mind. Searle tees up this sequence by observing that Hume's Enlightenment era view of the mind and consciousness was based on a premise that the "existence of knowledge was in question" and the main task of the philosopher "was to cope with the problem of skepticism." The era of skepticism is now over, Searle says, "because the sheer growth of certain, objective, universal knowledge." So now we fast-forward to the 21st century, where Damasio undertakes a review of that "certain, objective, universal knowledge" we now possess about the neurobiology of the brain, and empirical research that allows us to draw conclusions about how consciousness emerged, and how it is evolving. This is but one example of just how the skepticism of the 18th century Enlightenment has been overcome by the objective, universal knowledge of the 21st century.
First, that "certain, objective, universal knowledge" about the brain and consciousness is not yet complete. Damasio says that, and Searle states that this is not a problem for declaring that the era of skepticism is over --- that our current state of knowledge is capable of being corrected, revised and supplemented without undermining his conclusion (See January 21, 2011 post).
So what is it that we now know about the mind and consciousness that David Hume and his Enlightenment era contemporaries did not know on this subject? Two things: without doubt our knowledge of the brain and the neurosensory system has grown measurably; second, that Hume's introspective conclusions about the mind and consciousness (which were not necessarily his views alone) were very close to what all that cumulative, objective knowledge has revealed over 300 years.
Our current knowledge of the brain, the mind and consciousness must necessarily begin with an evolutionary understanding of the nervous system to which the animal brain is connected. Hume, as I have pointed out in a previous post (see May 24, 2010 post) probably would have appreciated this approach, although he lived a full century before Charles Darwin published On The Origin of Species. Damasio devotes a chapter to the evolution of conscious and non-conscious processes beginning with unicellular organism's sensory and motor capabilities to the multicellular organism consisting of cells with specialized functions --- including neural cells --- that abandoned their "independent status" to cooperate with other types of cells "to be part of a convenient new aggregate." Damasio's discussion is not new --- Steven Rose has a more thorough discussion of the evolution of the nervous system and brains in The Future of the Brain; Nicholas Humphrey's A History of the Mind develops the evolutionary history of the sensory system -- particularly with respect to vision; and Lynch and Granger's Big Brain outline the evolution of primate brains and the auditory sensory system. Damasio's take-away, however, and one that is important to a key thesis, is that the animal nervous system evolved because the organism needed some component to manage and control the organism's survival. As more complex organisms evolved, this required more complex nervous systems and brains to regulate the organism internally as well as externally. Yet even very simple organisms --- organisms without brains --- had the ability to sense changes in their environment: changes in their internal organism environment, as well as their external environment (light, chemicals, even touch) and they could respond to those changes. As Darwin, said, "From so simple a beginning. . ." That early, regulatory "component" is the precursor to the modern human's brain stem. The brain stem is still performing most of the same types of functions in humans that it performed in reptiles millions of years ago --- receiving signals from and monitoring the internal milieu of the body and sending signals back to the body. Certain nuclei in the brain stem are responsible for wakefulness --- a key attribute of consciousness: we know this because when there is damage to specific parts of the brain stem the result is coma and the vegetative state (lack of consciousness).
What we know now, that we did not know in Hume's time, is that the nervous system operates by electro-chemical means. Neuroscience has identified several molecules in the nervous system that are related to states of reward or punishment and are associated with biological value tied to life regulation and survival. There are molecules that suppress and molecules that stimulate, "punish" and "reward," causing the body to generate certain feelings, emotions, and also causing motion to occur. Central to understanding survival mechanisms, says Damasio, is the concept of homeostasis: "In other words, life requires that the body maintain a collection of parameter ranges at all costs for literally dozens of components in its dynamic interior. All the management operations to which I alluded earlier --- procuring energy sources, incorporating and transforming energy products, and so forth --- aim at maintaining the chemical parameters of a body's interior (its internal milieu) with the magic range compatible with life. The magic range is known as homeostatic, and the process of achieving this balanced state is called homeostasis." While we have understood the biological role of homeostasis for most of the 20th century, Damasio asserts that we are only just beginning to understand its significance in terms of neurobiology, psychology, and even sociology (culture).
Damasio is not merely a commentator on this subject. He is a neuroscientist who works with patients suffering pathologies that provide clues about the functionality of certain parts of the brain. He is the author of three previous books that touch on human consciousness: Descartes' Error: Emotion, Reason and the Human Brain, The Feeling of What Happens: Body and Emotion in the Making of Consciousness, and Looking for Spinoza: Joy, Sorrow, and the Feeling Brain. Self Comes to Mind covers much of the same ground that Damasio ploughed in his previous three works, but he builds on those works in several important ways: he supplements his previous writings with a decade of new research (much of which is his own research) following publication of Looking for Spinoza; he revises some of his previous views; and he introduces new hypotheses relative to consciousness that deserve further research in the accumulation of additional "certain, objective, universal knowledge" about the brain and consciousness.
Beyond the brain stem, the evolution of the brain shows that a part of the brain known as thalamus was constructed on top of the brain stem --- it did not replace it --- and operates integrally with the brain stem in producing consciousness. Evolution ultimately added a third component to the brains of some species --- the cerebral cortex. Damasio describes the thalamus as a way station for information that is collected from the body that ferry signals about the body and about the world, from pain and temperature to touch, hearing, and vision (but not smell). All signals bound for the cortex stop at "thalamic relay nuclei and change into tracks that take them to their destinations in varied parts of the cerebral cortex." The thalamus is understood (believed) to facilitate simultaneous and sequenced activation of separate neural sites --- bringing them together in a pattern. It coordinates cortical activities, and in that capacity it is key to the rich conscious experience some species (e.g., humans) have in being able to integrate different sensory experiences as well as memory. The cerebral cortex co-evolved with the thalamus, and acts to keep us awake and selects what we pay attention to. Equally, if not more important for human consciousness, the cerebral cortex is where memory is triggered and the autobiographical self is created.
In an appendix devoted to the architecture of the brain, Damasio fleshes out the different parts of the brain stem and the cerebral cortex and describes that certain, objective knowledge we now have about the functionality of specific parts of the brain. You can't regurgitate it all here, but the point is that our knowledge of how the brain and the mind works --- significantly developed over only the past 20 years --- while not yet complete, is quite substantial. David Hume would be impressed. Some of this knowledge has been enabled by what we learn from pathologies resulting from injury to specific parts of the brain --- informing us that feelings, memories, emotions, wakefulness remain intact or are impaired when a specific brain region is damaged. Some of this knowledge is gleaned from our ability to use functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) and positron emission tomography (PET) to actually observe what is going on in the brain. (See November 13, 2010 post). Consistent with what Miriam Boelyn-Fitzgerald reported in Pictures of the Mind (id.), Damasio writes, "Conscious minds result from the smoothly articulated of several, often many brain sites. The key brain structures in charge of implementing the requisite functional steps include specific sectors of the upper brain stem [particularly the nucleus tractus solitarius, the parabrachial nucleus, the periaqueductal gray, the superior colliculus, and the hypothalamus], a set of nuclei in a region known as the thalamus, and specific but widespread regions of the cerebral cortex."
What the brain is able to do --- connected as it is to the electrochemical network of the central nervous system --- is "map" sensations, both internal to the body itself, and externally received from the environment around us. "Networks of neurons eventually come to mimic the structure of parts of the body, literally mapping the body for which they work and constituting a sort of virtual surrogate for it, a neural double," says Damasio. The components of the upper brain stem mentioned above are capable of providing whole-body maps to the central nervous system. Mapping of the environment around us occurs in the cerebral cortex. The concept of "mapping" (including what Damasio refers to as "somatic marking"), is not new to neuroscience. It is the subject of Damasio's earlier work, The Feeling of What Happens, and in Self Comes to Mind, Damasio reinforces many of his prior hypotheses on this subject with more recent research.
Damasio believes that the regulation of the internal organism occurs in the upper brain stem of a given specie, which creates an "image" of a "protoself." This "protoself" is neither an objective "me" nor a subjective "I," but what he calls "primordial feelings" --- "a direct experience of one's own body, wordless, unadorned, and connected to nothing but sheer existence." These are body events, including pain and pleasure. We cannot yet call this consciousness, but primordial feelings are essential building blocks of consciousness. Damasio describes the neural networks that manage the internal organism "dispositional networks": almost formulaic "predisposed" responses of the body to an environmental condition designed to maintain homeostasis --- i.e., when 'X' occurs inside the body, there is a response 'Z.' And for a long-time, these dispositional networks worked perfectly well, evolving themselves to become even more precise and more customized. As the brain evolved, the thalamus and the cerebral cortex evolved on top of the brain stem. The mapping networks mentioned above, Damasio argues, evolved with these additions to the brain and joined forces with the dispositional networks.
Consciousness emerges with what Damasio calls the "core self," which is about action --- specifically, about a relationship between the organism and an object. The core self emerges because the thalamus and the cerebral cortex map to create images of external objects derived from sensory perceptions, and one of those external objects can be organism itself --- this is the "self as object," a conscious recognition of "me." He refers to this as "core consciousness." Beyond core consciousness, emerging from the more complex cerebral cortex in primates, humans, and perhaps whales and dolphins, is the autobiographical self, and what Damasio calls "extended consciousness." The autobiographical self recognizes "I," and memory is a key part of the architecture of the brain that enables the autobiographical self -- the "self as knower."
Nobelist Eric Kandel's research on memory and the brain explained how memories are chemically developed through the strengthening of synaptic connections, modified through learning. Damasio introduces a new view on the "architecture of memory" that has considerable explanatory power for how memory is retrieved. Ironically, it smacks of David Hume's associationism. By Damasio's account of how the brain retains memories, larger human brains lack the storage capacity for "large files of recorded images of prior events." To solve this problem, human brains "borrowed the dispositional strategy" from early evolution that allows us to be able to retrieve those memories without, figuratively speaking, having to film and store those images. Here is how Damasio says this works. The ancient dispositional networks and the more recent, evolutionarily speaking, mapping networks in the brain are now connected. A current perception triggers the dispositional network that directs the brain to reassemble aspects of past perceptions from the part of the cerebral cortex that had been previously activated when an original perception of an object occurred and where the representation or image was mapped. This occurs in what Damasio refers to as convergence-divergence zones that record "the coincidence of activity in neurons hailing from different brain sites, neurons that had been made active by the mapping of a certain object." A part of the cerebral cortex is devoted to image space where images of all sensory types occurs and map-making occurs; a separate part of the cerebral cortex is devoted to dispositional space where the tools exist to reactivate and generate images previously experienced. The contents of dispositions, Damasio says, are always unconscious --- he says they are "encrypted" and "implicit" --- in contrast to the explicit images in the image space created by current perceptions. The "encrypted" dispositions are not themselves images, but merely implicit formulas for how to reconstruct maps in image space. Our "knowledge base" is, by this hypothesis, part of our unconscious brain, stored in code, waiting to be retrieved from what Damasio refers to as "association cortices" (and hence the analogy to Hume's associationism). The tools for language are maintained here as well.
Damasio's account of short-term and long-term memory is not Damasio's own conclusions, but his model of convergence divergence zones is. Kandel, in his autobiography In Search of Memory, describes the work of Brenda Milner and others that showed that short-term (conscious, explicit) and long-term (unconscious, implicit) memory required different anatomical systems. In the words of Kandel: "Implicit memory is not a single memory system but a collection of processes involving several different brain systems that lie deep within the cerebral cortex. For example, the association of feelings (such as fear or happiness) with events involves a structure called the amygdala. The formation of new motor (and perhaps cognitive) habits requires the striatum, while learning new motor skills or coordinated activities depends on the cerebellum. . . Implicit memory often has an automatic quality. It is recalled directly through performance, without any conscious effort or even awareness that we are drawing on memory. Although experiences change perceptual and motor abilities, those experiences are virtually inaccessible to conscious recollection." Damasio suggests that "neurons in anterior medial temporal cortices can indeed respond to unique objects [e.g., one's grandmother], in perception or recall, with high specificity suggesting that they receive convergent signals [where one neuron is influenced by many others, resulting in a convergence of input]. But the mere activation of those neurons, without retroactivation that would follow it, would not allow us to remember our grandmother or remember her. To recognize or remember our grandmother, we must reinstate a substantial part of the collection of explicit maps that, in their entirety, represent her meaning." Damasio believes that this neural experience associated with the recall of past events is not unlike the mechanism by which mirror neurons (see Sept. 18, 2009 post) are involved with feeling the movement of others.
From memory, humans and a few other species, are able to recall their own biographical experiences and this gives rise to the autobiographical self -- not the object "me," but the subjective "I" --- "memory made conscious." This is what Damasio calls extended consciousness.
One cannot leave Damasio without acknowledging his views on feelings and emotions. This is not new to Self Comes to Mind, but is at the core of his earlier books and articles. The subject of feelings and emotions is integral the discussion of the protoself and the core self. "Emotions are complex, largely automated programs of actions concocted by evolution. The actions are complemented by a cognitive program that includes certain ideas and modes of cognition, but the world of emotions is largely one of actions carried out in our bodies, from facial expressions and postures to change in viscera and internal milieu. Feelings of emotion, on the other hand, are composite perceptions of what happens in our body and mind when we are emoting. As far as the body body is concerned, feelings are images of actions rather than actions themselves; the world of feelings is one of perceptions executed in brain maps. But there is a qualification to be made here: the perceptions we call feelings of emotion contain a special ingredient that corresponds to the primordial feelings discussed earlier. Those feelings are based on the unique relations between body and brain that privileges interoception." The experience of feelings and emotions, while generated largely by brain-stem neural systems, are critical to the core self: we feel our perceptions, and "once a protagonist (me, I) is added to the process, the experience is claimed by its newly minted owner, the self." For Damasio, like Hume, our conscious, "rational" decision-making is tied feelings and emotions and the unconscious, automated aspect of our brain and body.
Recall the structure of Hume's Treatise on Human Nature: Part I (On the Understanding) articulates that our knowledge begins with an immediate perception of our memory or senses, or by an inference from some other cause, which we must ascertain either by a present impression or by another inference. When we rely on inferences, our knowledge of something is believed to be more likely because of repetitive experience that strengthens our memory of the object or experience. So far, Hume is in sync with the 21st century, although we are less skeptical today of treating sensory impressions as something distinct from reality --- today we have considerably more objective knowledge about causal relations. On the question of "personal identity" (the self), Hume states that "the identity to which we ascribe to the mind of man is only a fictitious one": Hume suggests we cannot know ourselves, but only our perceptions. On this point, Damasio would say that Hume "pulverized the self to the extent of doing away with it." In Damasio's nomenclature, Hume is only willing to recognize a protoself and cannot find his way to acknowledge the core self or even the autobiographical self. This is surprising, because in Part II (Of the Passions) Hume exhibits considerable understanding and command of human emotions. In discussing pride and humility, Hume states that although they are contrary to one another, "they have the same object: This object is self, or that successions of related ideas and impressions, of which we have intimate memory and consciousness."
Hume's treatment of emotions is not radically different than Damasio's, because Hume's catalog of emotions largely fall under the label of what Damasio refers to as the "social emotions," which Damasio believes are of recent evolutionary vintage, some of which may be exclusively human. For both Hume and Damasio, emotions shape our reasoning: "rational" choice, if you will, is not independent of or from emotions and feelings. Compassion (empathy/sympathy) is one of those social emotions, and compassion, along with admiration, is critical in building a social construct in Damasio's view. And so it is with Hume, as Part III (On The Morals) states that sympathy with public interest is the source of moral approbation, and ultimately reciprocal promise-making behavior and principles of justice: "sympathy is a very powerful principle in human nature, that it has great influence on our taste of beauty, and that it produces our sentiment of morals in all the artificial virtues."
Just as Damasio acknowledges the role of mirror neurons in allowing us to understand the action of others, Hume seems to anticipate the same as well as Dacher Keltner's observations about emotions in Born to be Good (see July 16, 2010 post). Hume writes, "As in strings equally wound up, the motion of one communicates itself to the rest; so all the affections readily pass from one person to another, and beget the corresponding movements in every human creature. When I see the effects of passion in the voice and gesture of any person, my mind immediately passes from these effects to their causes, and forms such a lively idea of the passion, as is presently converted into the passion itself. In like manner, when I perceive the causes of any emotion, my mind is conveyed to the effects, and is actuated with like emotion."
By the end of Self Comes to Mind, Damasio extends his to discussion of consciousness to the origins and development of culture. He returns to the concept of homeostasis (detecting imbalance in life process and correcting it within the constraints of human biology and of the physical and social environment): with an autobiographical self capable of reflection, and new forms of memory enhanced by forms of communication including gestures and language, and the invention of external memory systems (e.g., drawings on caves, tablets, books, film, computers), humans begin to invent ways to govern social behavior, including morality, justice systems, economics, science and technology. Hume ends up here as well, but with Damasio we have those objective facts and hypotheses in need of further research that Hume did not have at his fingertips. And we have the research of others such as Michael Gazzaniga (see September 27, 2009 post), Marco Iacoboni (see September 18, 2009 post), Dacher Keltner (see July 16, 2010 post), and Marc Hauser's Moral Minds that adds to the accumulated, objective knowledge, which John Searle recognized represents a critical difference between epistemology today and Enlightenment-era skepticism.
First, that "certain, objective, universal knowledge" about the brain and consciousness is not yet complete. Damasio says that, and Searle states that this is not a problem for declaring that the era of skepticism is over --- that our current state of knowledge is capable of being corrected, revised and supplemented without undermining his conclusion (See January 21, 2011 post).
So what is it that we now know about the mind and consciousness that David Hume and his Enlightenment era contemporaries did not know on this subject? Two things: without doubt our knowledge of the brain and the neurosensory system has grown measurably; second, that Hume's introspective conclusions about the mind and consciousness (which were not necessarily his views alone) were very close to what all that cumulative, objective knowledge has revealed over 300 years.
Our current knowledge of the brain, the mind and consciousness must necessarily begin with an evolutionary understanding of the nervous system to which the animal brain is connected. Hume, as I have pointed out in a previous post (see May 24, 2010 post) probably would have appreciated this approach, although he lived a full century before Charles Darwin published On The Origin of Species. Damasio devotes a chapter to the evolution of conscious and non-conscious processes beginning with unicellular organism's sensory and motor capabilities to the multicellular organism consisting of cells with specialized functions --- including neural cells --- that abandoned their "independent status" to cooperate with other types of cells "to be part of a convenient new aggregate." Damasio's discussion is not new --- Steven Rose has a more thorough discussion of the evolution of the nervous system and brains in The Future of the Brain; Nicholas Humphrey's A History of the Mind develops the evolutionary history of the sensory system -- particularly with respect to vision; and Lynch and Granger's Big Brain outline the evolution of primate brains and the auditory sensory system. Damasio's take-away, however, and one that is important to a key thesis, is that the animal nervous system evolved because the organism needed some component to manage and control the organism's survival. As more complex organisms evolved, this required more complex nervous systems and brains to regulate the organism internally as well as externally. Yet even very simple organisms --- organisms without brains --- had the ability to sense changes in their environment: changes in their internal organism environment, as well as their external environment (light, chemicals, even touch) and they could respond to those changes. As Darwin, said, "From so simple a beginning. . ." That early, regulatory "component" is the precursor to the modern human's brain stem. The brain stem is still performing most of the same types of functions in humans that it performed in reptiles millions of years ago --- receiving signals from and monitoring the internal milieu of the body and sending signals back to the body. Certain nuclei in the brain stem are responsible for wakefulness --- a key attribute of consciousness: we know this because when there is damage to specific parts of the brain stem the result is coma and the vegetative state (lack of consciousness).
What we know now, that we did not know in Hume's time, is that the nervous system operates by electro-chemical means. Neuroscience has identified several molecules in the nervous system that are related to states of reward or punishment and are associated with biological value tied to life regulation and survival. There are molecules that suppress and molecules that stimulate, "punish" and "reward," causing the body to generate certain feelings, emotions, and also causing motion to occur. Central to understanding survival mechanisms, says Damasio, is the concept of homeostasis: "In other words, life requires that the body maintain a collection of parameter ranges at all costs for literally dozens of components in its dynamic interior. All the management operations to which I alluded earlier --- procuring energy sources, incorporating and transforming energy products, and so forth --- aim at maintaining the chemical parameters of a body's interior (its internal milieu) with the magic range compatible with life. The magic range is known as homeostatic, and the process of achieving this balanced state is called homeostasis." While we have understood the biological role of homeostasis for most of the 20th century, Damasio asserts that we are only just beginning to understand its significance in terms of neurobiology, psychology, and even sociology (culture).
Damasio is not merely a commentator on this subject. He is a neuroscientist who works with patients suffering pathologies that provide clues about the functionality of certain parts of the brain. He is the author of three previous books that touch on human consciousness: Descartes' Error: Emotion, Reason and the Human Brain, The Feeling of What Happens: Body and Emotion in the Making of Consciousness, and Looking for Spinoza: Joy, Sorrow, and the Feeling Brain. Self Comes to Mind covers much of the same ground that Damasio ploughed in his previous three works, but he builds on those works in several important ways: he supplements his previous writings with a decade of new research (much of which is his own research) following publication of Looking for Spinoza; he revises some of his previous views; and he introduces new hypotheses relative to consciousness that deserve further research in the accumulation of additional "certain, objective, universal knowledge" about the brain and consciousness.
Beyond the brain stem, the evolution of the brain shows that a part of the brain known as thalamus was constructed on top of the brain stem --- it did not replace it --- and operates integrally with the brain stem in producing consciousness. Evolution ultimately added a third component to the brains of some species --- the cerebral cortex. Damasio describes the thalamus as a way station for information that is collected from the body that ferry signals about the body and about the world, from pain and temperature to touch, hearing, and vision (but not smell). All signals bound for the cortex stop at "thalamic relay nuclei and change into tracks that take them to their destinations in varied parts of the cerebral cortex." The thalamus is understood (believed) to facilitate simultaneous and sequenced activation of separate neural sites --- bringing them together in a pattern. It coordinates cortical activities, and in that capacity it is key to the rich conscious experience some species (e.g., humans) have in being able to integrate different sensory experiences as well as memory. The cerebral cortex co-evolved with the thalamus, and acts to keep us awake and selects what we pay attention to. Equally, if not more important for human consciousness, the cerebral cortex is where memory is triggered and the autobiographical self is created.
In an appendix devoted to the architecture of the brain, Damasio fleshes out the different parts of the brain stem and the cerebral cortex and describes that certain, objective knowledge we now have about the functionality of specific parts of the brain. You can't regurgitate it all here, but the point is that our knowledge of how the brain and the mind works --- significantly developed over only the past 20 years --- while not yet complete, is quite substantial. David Hume would be impressed. Some of this knowledge has been enabled by what we learn from pathologies resulting from injury to specific parts of the brain --- informing us that feelings, memories, emotions, wakefulness remain intact or are impaired when a specific brain region is damaged. Some of this knowledge is gleaned from our ability to use functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) and positron emission tomography (PET) to actually observe what is going on in the brain. (See November 13, 2010 post). Consistent with what Miriam Boelyn-Fitzgerald reported in Pictures of the Mind (id.), Damasio writes, "Conscious minds result from the smoothly articulated of several, often many brain sites. The key brain structures in charge of implementing the requisite functional steps include specific sectors of the upper brain stem [particularly the nucleus tractus solitarius, the parabrachial nucleus, the periaqueductal gray, the superior colliculus, and the hypothalamus], a set of nuclei in a region known as the thalamus, and specific but widespread regions of the cerebral cortex."
What the brain is able to do --- connected as it is to the electrochemical network of the central nervous system --- is "map" sensations, both internal to the body itself, and externally received from the environment around us. "Networks of neurons eventually come to mimic the structure of parts of the body, literally mapping the body for which they work and constituting a sort of virtual surrogate for it, a neural double," says Damasio. The components of the upper brain stem mentioned above are capable of providing whole-body maps to the central nervous system. Mapping of the environment around us occurs in the cerebral cortex. The concept of "mapping" (including what Damasio refers to as "somatic marking"), is not new to neuroscience. It is the subject of Damasio's earlier work, The Feeling of What Happens, and in Self Comes to Mind, Damasio reinforces many of his prior hypotheses on this subject with more recent research.
Damasio believes that the regulation of the internal organism occurs in the upper brain stem of a given specie, which creates an "image" of a "protoself." This "protoself" is neither an objective "me" nor a subjective "I," but what he calls "primordial feelings" --- "a direct experience of one's own body, wordless, unadorned, and connected to nothing but sheer existence." These are body events, including pain and pleasure. We cannot yet call this consciousness, but primordial feelings are essential building blocks of consciousness. Damasio describes the neural networks that manage the internal organism "dispositional networks": almost formulaic "predisposed" responses of the body to an environmental condition designed to maintain homeostasis --- i.e., when 'X' occurs inside the body, there is a response 'Z.' And for a long-time, these dispositional networks worked perfectly well, evolving themselves to become even more precise and more customized. As the brain evolved, the thalamus and the cerebral cortex evolved on top of the brain stem. The mapping networks mentioned above, Damasio argues, evolved with these additions to the brain and joined forces with the dispositional networks.
Consciousness emerges with what Damasio calls the "core self," which is about action --- specifically, about a relationship between the organism and an object. The core self emerges because the thalamus and the cerebral cortex map to create images of external objects derived from sensory perceptions, and one of those external objects can be organism itself --- this is the "self as object," a conscious recognition of "me." He refers to this as "core consciousness." Beyond core consciousness, emerging from the more complex cerebral cortex in primates, humans, and perhaps whales and dolphins, is the autobiographical self, and what Damasio calls "extended consciousness." The autobiographical self recognizes "I," and memory is a key part of the architecture of the brain that enables the autobiographical self -- the "self as knower."
Nobelist Eric Kandel's research on memory and the brain explained how memories are chemically developed through the strengthening of synaptic connections, modified through learning. Damasio introduces a new view on the "architecture of memory" that has considerable explanatory power for how memory is retrieved. Ironically, it smacks of David Hume's associationism. By Damasio's account of how the brain retains memories, larger human brains lack the storage capacity for "large files of recorded images of prior events." To solve this problem, human brains "borrowed the dispositional strategy" from early evolution that allows us to be able to retrieve those memories without, figuratively speaking, having to film and store those images. Here is how Damasio says this works. The ancient dispositional networks and the more recent, evolutionarily speaking, mapping networks in the brain are now connected. A current perception triggers the dispositional network that directs the brain to reassemble aspects of past perceptions from the part of the cerebral cortex that had been previously activated when an original perception of an object occurred and where the representation or image was mapped. This occurs in what Damasio refers to as convergence-divergence zones that record "the coincidence of activity in neurons hailing from different brain sites, neurons that had been made active by the mapping of a certain object." A part of the cerebral cortex is devoted to image space where images of all sensory types occurs and map-making occurs; a separate part of the cerebral cortex is devoted to dispositional space where the tools exist to reactivate and generate images previously experienced. The contents of dispositions, Damasio says, are always unconscious --- he says they are "encrypted" and "implicit" --- in contrast to the explicit images in the image space created by current perceptions. The "encrypted" dispositions are not themselves images, but merely implicit formulas for how to reconstruct maps in image space. Our "knowledge base" is, by this hypothesis, part of our unconscious brain, stored in code, waiting to be retrieved from what Damasio refers to as "association cortices" (and hence the analogy to Hume's associationism). The tools for language are maintained here as well.
Damasio's account of short-term and long-term memory is not Damasio's own conclusions, but his model of convergence divergence zones is. Kandel, in his autobiography In Search of Memory, describes the work of Brenda Milner and others that showed that short-term (conscious, explicit) and long-term (unconscious, implicit) memory required different anatomical systems. In the words of Kandel: "Implicit memory is not a single memory system but a collection of processes involving several different brain systems that lie deep within the cerebral cortex. For example, the association of feelings (such as fear or happiness) with events involves a structure called the amygdala. The formation of new motor (and perhaps cognitive) habits requires the striatum, while learning new motor skills or coordinated activities depends on the cerebellum. . . Implicit memory often has an automatic quality. It is recalled directly through performance, without any conscious effort or even awareness that we are drawing on memory. Although experiences change perceptual and motor abilities, those experiences are virtually inaccessible to conscious recollection." Damasio suggests that "neurons in anterior medial temporal cortices can indeed respond to unique objects [e.g., one's grandmother], in perception or recall, with high specificity suggesting that they receive convergent signals [where one neuron is influenced by many others, resulting in a convergence of input]. But the mere activation of those neurons, without retroactivation that would follow it, would not allow us to remember our grandmother or remember her. To recognize or remember our grandmother, we must reinstate a substantial part of the collection of explicit maps that, in their entirety, represent her meaning." Damasio believes that this neural experience associated with the recall of past events is not unlike the mechanism by which mirror neurons (see Sept. 18, 2009 post) are involved with feeling the movement of others.
From memory, humans and a few other species, are able to recall their own biographical experiences and this gives rise to the autobiographical self -- not the object "me," but the subjective "I" --- "memory made conscious." This is what Damasio calls extended consciousness.
One cannot leave Damasio without acknowledging his views on feelings and emotions. This is not new to Self Comes to Mind, but is at the core of his earlier books and articles. The subject of feelings and emotions is integral the discussion of the protoself and the core self. "Emotions are complex, largely automated programs of actions concocted by evolution. The actions are complemented by a cognitive program that includes certain ideas and modes of cognition, but the world of emotions is largely one of actions carried out in our bodies, from facial expressions and postures to change in viscera and internal milieu. Feelings of emotion, on the other hand, are composite perceptions of what happens in our body and mind when we are emoting. As far as the body body is concerned, feelings are images of actions rather than actions themselves; the world of feelings is one of perceptions executed in brain maps. But there is a qualification to be made here: the perceptions we call feelings of emotion contain a special ingredient that corresponds to the primordial feelings discussed earlier. Those feelings are based on the unique relations between body and brain that privileges interoception." The experience of feelings and emotions, while generated largely by brain-stem neural systems, are critical to the core self: we feel our perceptions, and "once a protagonist (me, I) is added to the process, the experience is claimed by its newly minted owner, the self." For Damasio, like Hume, our conscious, "rational" decision-making is tied feelings and emotions and the unconscious, automated aspect of our brain and body.
Recall the structure of Hume's Treatise on Human Nature: Part I (On the Understanding) articulates that our knowledge begins with an immediate perception of our memory or senses, or by an inference from some other cause, which we must ascertain either by a present impression or by another inference. When we rely on inferences, our knowledge of something is believed to be more likely because of repetitive experience that strengthens our memory of the object or experience. So far, Hume is in sync with the 21st century, although we are less skeptical today of treating sensory impressions as something distinct from reality --- today we have considerably more objective knowledge about causal relations. On the question of "personal identity" (the self), Hume states that "the identity to which we ascribe to the mind of man is only a fictitious one": Hume suggests we cannot know ourselves, but only our perceptions. On this point, Damasio would say that Hume "pulverized the self to the extent of doing away with it." In Damasio's nomenclature, Hume is only willing to recognize a protoself and cannot find his way to acknowledge the core self or even the autobiographical self. This is surprising, because in Part II (Of the Passions) Hume exhibits considerable understanding and command of human emotions. In discussing pride and humility, Hume states that although they are contrary to one another, "they have the same object: This object is self, or that successions of related ideas and impressions, of which we have intimate memory and consciousness."
Hume's treatment of emotions is not radically different than Damasio's, because Hume's catalog of emotions largely fall under the label of what Damasio refers to as the "social emotions," which Damasio believes are of recent evolutionary vintage, some of which may be exclusively human. For both Hume and Damasio, emotions shape our reasoning: "rational" choice, if you will, is not independent of or from emotions and feelings. Compassion (empathy/sympathy) is one of those social emotions, and compassion, along with admiration, is critical in building a social construct in Damasio's view. And so it is with Hume, as Part III (On The Morals) states that sympathy with public interest is the source of moral approbation, and ultimately reciprocal promise-making behavior and principles of justice: "sympathy is a very powerful principle in human nature, that it has great influence on our taste of beauty, and that it produces our sentiment of morals in all the artificial virtues."
Just as Damasio acknowledges the role of mirror neurons in allowing us to understand the action of others, Hume seems to anticipate the same as well as Dacher Keltner's observations about emotions in Born to be Good (see July 16, 2010 post). Hume writes, "As in strings equally wound up, the motion of one communicates itself to the rest; so all the affections readily pass from one person to another, and beget the corresponding movements in every human creature. When I see the effects of passion in the voice and gesture of any person, my mind immediately passes from these effects to their causes, and forms such a lively idea of the passion, as is presently converted into the passion itself. In like manner, when I perceive the causes of any emotion, my mind is conveyed to the effects, and is actuated with like emotion."
By the end of Self Comes to Mind, Damasio extends his to discussion of consciousness to the origins and development of culture. He returns to the concept of homeostasis (detecting imbalance in life process and correcting it within the constraints of human biology and of the physical and social environment): with an autobiographical self capable of reflection, and new forms of memory enhanced by forms of communication including gestures and language, and the invention of external memory systems (e.g., drawings on caves, tablets, books, film, computers), humans begin to invent ways to govern social behavior, including morality, justice systems, economics, science and technology. Hume ends up here as well, but with Damasio we have those objective facts and hypotheses in need of further research that Hume did not have at his fingertips. And we have the research of others such as Michael Gazzaniga (see September 27, 2009 post), Marco Iacoboni (see September 18, 2009 post), Dacher Keltner (see July 16, 2010 post), and Marc Hauser's Moral Minds that adds to the accumulated, objective knowledge, which John Searle recognized represents a critical difference between epistemology today and Enlightenment-era skepticism.
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