J.L. des Alpins

Sanctus, the tone of some of your posts tends to dissolve your idealistic opinions into solipsism. History has shown repeatedly that systems of beliefs pushed to the extreme are detrimental to the holders of such beliefs and most often harmful others around.

Maddog, from my latest post here , we may have something to work with to find an answer to your question. We have established that intersubjectivity is necessary, unless we accept the world as being a big mass of goo. A direct consequence of intersubjectivity is that direct experimentation of another’s consciousness is impossible. Furthermore, the exercise proposed in post #37 illustrates the only way the other’s subjectivity can be revealed to you. It happens by your awareness of yourself as being an object in the eyes of the other. The experience of your own objectivity is evidence of the presence of the other as a subject. Now, in the scenario that you proposed, Maddog, the other is totally deprived of senses and means of communication—he is like in a coma—but may still be conscious. How can you find evidence of his consciousness. As indicated above, the only evidence of the other’s consciousness is by experiencing his objectivation of you. The problem is that he has no way to know that you are there, by his bed. At least, he cannot even give a hint that he can sense your presence. Without a hint, without his look, you cannot experience his objectivation of you, if it is there at all. I propose the following conjecture: Ontology cannot resolved the problem of detecting consciousness in a coma-like person. That leaves us with epistemology and ethics as investigation approaches to the problem. I suspect, however, that both approaches will not help our investigation either. Take the notorious—and sad—case of the brain-damaged Florida woman who is at the center of a right-to-die dispute between her husband and her parents. We can be fairly confident that all known investigation approaches to find consciousness in her have been exhausted. The failure to prove or disprove the presence of consciousness is evident. This is indeed what they did. A court said a neurologist who had reviewed a CAT scan of Mrs. Schiavo's brain and an EEG has testified that most, if not all, of Mrs. Schiavo's cerebral cortex—the portion of her brain that allows for human cognition and memory—is either "totally destroyed or damaged beyond repair." Yet, these results did not appease half the state’s population, including Governor Bush. This case has evolved way beyond the search for consciousness; it has become an ethical debate on what to do when search for consciousness fails to reach conclusive results. (Note: Early in January, independent observers claimed that they have seen signs of consciousness in Mrs. Schiavo. This is still very much a case in progress.)

What is special about another person is that he/she is a totally foreign subject, an ineffable and radical exteriority. If you could ‘touch’, ‘connect’ or ‘communicate’ directly with the other’s consciousness, both of you would lose your ‘otherness’ toward each other; you would become parts of a same ‘network’, components of a bigger whole. Both of you would lose your subjectivity. The world would collapse into monism. Direct experimentation of someone else’s consciousness is thus impossible. Which experimental evidence can you find then of the other’s consciousness if you cannot experiment directly with it? Let’s try this exercise: (1) We have a (virtual) volunteer, a man named Paul. We also have a statue of Paul carved in stone. First examine the statue. You can see that it is a convincing replica of Paul, that it is well polished, the colours in the stone are lively, and it is cold to the touch. You can experience the statue of Paul because you are directing your consciousness toward it, and your intentionality makes this ‘thing’ an object that is ‘the statue of Paul’. (2) Here comes Paul—the man—in the room and walks beside his statue. You can experience Paul because you are directing your consciousness toward Paul (you have to, otherwise, you would not be conscious that Paul is in the room). You see his body, his clothes; you can feel the warmth of his skin and hear his breathing. You are touching and feeling ‘matter’—a thing— and your intentionality makes this ‘thing’ an object that is ‘Paul’. You try to ‘touch’ his consciousness in vain. Paul’s subjectivity is transcending his body. In your eyes, Paul is as much an object as his statue, that is, to experience Paul, your consciousness has no other choice but to ‘objectify’ Paul. (3) Then, while you are examining Paul, you suddenly realise that Paul is looking at you. Paul is examining you as you are examining him. A thought comes to your mind, “If Paul is experiencing the same while examining me as I am while examining him, then that means that, at this very moment, Paul is objectifying me.” You have the feeling of being an object in Paul’s eyes. You know, because you know that your own subjectivity transcends your body. Yet, you didn’t get that feeling from the statue. Therefore, even though you did not directly ‘touch’ Paul’s consciousness, the feeling you get from Paul’s look is evidence that there is a consciousness ‘inside’ Paul.

In an attempt to unearth the root of all evil, I will expand a bit on the foundation of consciousness that I presented in an earlier post . In the micro-essay below, I will introduce bad faith. (1) In my earlier post, we have been introduced to the prereflective and the directional levels of consciousness, both levels being needed to expose the ego. A human being that has discovered his ego can, through experimentation, become aware of him as a conscious being in the world; that there are objects he can change and others that he cannot; that there is a realm of possibilities in front of him; that he has absolute freedom to choose any options in his realm of possibilities; that nothing in the world can stop him to choose or make choices for him; that every single choice he makes creates new possibilities and, at the same time, annihilates others; that there are consequences when making choices; and that he has no way to know for sure the consequences of his choices—he can only evaluate the likeliness of what may happen. (2) Now there is a loophole in the sequence presented in (1) above. Because there is no way to know for sure what will be the consequences of a choice [(1)g, h] and that a choice is absolutely one’s responsibility and nobody else’s [(1)e], someone may be unwilling to take the chance of making a choice alone. Because of his absolute freedom of choice [(1)d], that person can decide to choice to limit his choices, that is, to close his eyes on some of his choices in order to make his life easier. Limiting one’s own possibilities is called bad faith. (3) Bad faith is a form of self-deception that, in making use of his freedom, he in fact denies it. Bad faith is not lying. In lying one hides the truth from others. In bad faith one hides the truth from oneself. There is no input from the outside. A person, when in bad faith, is not a priori conscious of his bad faith. This is because bad faith occurs in the prereflective consciousness. Bad faith can only be avoided when one directs his positional consciousness toward himself and makes a conscious effort to consider all his possibilities—that is, to exercise his freedom of choice to the fullest—before making a choice. (4) The world goes haywire (one may even say “goes to hell”) when people enter bad faith, thus set arbitrary limits to their capabilities to grow. This is the door from which evil enters into the world. Evils like greed, violence, and prejudice are all the result of someone refusing to fully exercise his freedom of choice. Take prejudice, for instance. Prejudice appears when someone leans toward just one side of an issue and refuses other considerations, even though there is nothing—really NOTHING—that can stop him from looking at both sides. Now take greed. Greed surges when someone considers only satisfying their desires, even if it harms himself or others, and flatly refuses to consider other avenues. (5) Is ignorance the root of evil? I don’t think so. Long ago, there was nothing evil in the belief of a flat earth. Everyone was ignorant. Consideration of a round earth was just not part of people’s realm of possibilities. Troubles came when a few scientists of the day started to present evidence for a round planet. With this evidence, the round-earth consideration entered everyone’s realm of possibilities. Most people, in bad faith, were afraid of the consequences of a round earth, thus made themselves truly believe that round-earth claimers were heretics and had to be burned at the stake. Their bad faith made them do evil things. (6) Another example of bad faith: Suicide. One has freedom of choice, but he is not free to obliterate his freedom. He is condemned to be free. He is condemned to be wholly responsible for himself. One can get sick of his freedom, having to make choices at all moments, never be able to take a break and let others be responsible for his being for a while. So many choices must be made over and over again, like the gambler who has to tell himself every day not to play today, even though he knows quite well that tonight he will be free to decide to play again ‘for the last time’. There is no way out of freedom, but in bad faith. When exhausted, depressed, or desperate, one can abandon himself in the belief that he has no energy left to make choices, that there are no choices left, that he is a liability to others. By considering only these possibilities and rejecting all others, he comes to the conclusion that self-termination is the only choice, that it is unavoidable. Bad faith leads to evil action. I would like to propose the following conjecture: All evil acts can be traced back to a choice made in bad faith. Comments are most welcomed.

For as long as Clausewitz’ “war being the continuation of politics by other means” stands, we will have to keep fighting for/against wars. Therefore, until humankind decides to redefine politics, anyone of us individually won’t have much impact on the big picture of war and peace. Once you realize that war is to be with us for a long time, no matter what, then you have to find out what is most important for you, what your options are, and which option you select. The best service a nation/state can do for its citizens is providing a rich education and the social means for each to be able to do what they select to do. With education, the people are better equipped to sincerely find what is most important to them, either intellectually, socially, spiritually, or emotionally. Once we, as citizens, are confident that we all have received a rich and open-minded education, then we shall respect everyone’s choice. How could one judge as hypocritical a priest who chooses to give spiritual and moral support to those of us who decided to fight for their country, knowing the horrors our servicemen and women are witnessing and experiencing out there, is beyond me. Those among us that have chosen to be pacifists have the right to do so, and we shall respect their choice. To really make a difference in our war-waging society, we should help the pacifists in defining a kind of politics that does not need war as a means for pursuing its goals. While the pacifists are working hard on that aim, other of us will still have to hold guns to protect our sovereignty, because without it, the pacifists won’t have the environment to continue their search for practical peaceful politics. Peace and war is very much a work in progress; we still have lots of education to receive, choices to make, and respect to give before it is completed.

hav0k, we are still working toward that goal. By reviewing a few scenarios, we are trying to determine the boundaries of consciousness. Once we have found a line, we will then be able to cross that line and see what is beyond consciousness. If we are lucky, we may find evidence of the soul. Maddog, your question highlights the “Problem of Intersubjectivity” , which is about, in a nutshell, a consciousness being conscious of another consciousness. I am trying to prepare a short reply on that topic. Stay put…

Thanks Maddog for bringing up this mind-stimulating scenario. Let’s try to formulate an answer based on the foundation built in my earlier reply. As per (1): Assuming that the individual you describe (the Subject) is not medically brain dead or otherwise ‘unconscious’, the Subject should still be conscious of himself as being conscious of something. Therefore, the Subject’s ego should not be affected by his condition. As per (2): Assuming a healthy brain, the Subject should remain conscious that he is a conscious being in the world. Now, what ‘world’ is he in? More generally: What ‘world’ is anyone in? What about Maddog’s world? Tormod’s? Freethinker’s? George Bush’s? or mine? I think that it is fair to say that everyone’s world is different. Some people see the colour red as ‘danger’, while others see ‘meat’. How much different is someone’s world from someone else’s? Is my ‘world’ better (or bigger or wider or deeper) than the Subject’s ‘world’? I don’t know. Nobody knows. The Subject’s world, however, is probably anything but static. He may not be able to see the chair by his hospital bed, but he can ‘see’, or recall, the chair in the kitchen of his younger years. In his mind, he can rearrange the furniture in the kitchen and discover a new layout that provides more space for guests, a layout that he has never thought of before. He can develop new knowledge from what he already knows. With new knowledge, he is expanding the possibilities in his mind. As per (3a): The Subject may one day realise that every ‘morning’, he is faced with two choices: Either cussing out his condition all ‘day’, or spending his time working on new discoveries. He is totally free to choose either one; he can even start the day cussing then change his mind later. His freedom of choice is unaffected by his condition. As per (3b): While thinking about his choices, he becomes conscious about consequences. For instance, if he let go and spend too long cursing, he could fall into depression, schizophrenia, even madness for the rest of his life. (A low involving path. A dark prospect.) If, on the other hand, he keeps the discipline up and continues working hard to make discoveries, his mind has a chance to remain healthy and a can live the rest of his live in a better mood. (A high involving path. A brighter prospect.) Even with his condition, he will have to live with the consequences of his choices. As per (3c): The Subject doesn’t know for sure what will happen. When he takes a break of hard work and pouts for a while, he fears of falling into darkness. When he works hard to keep the brain going, he has no guaranty that his good mood will prevail. He has no knowledge whatsoever of the future. Now if we put all of this together, we get: The Subject is conscious of being conscious of his own total and unrestrainable freedom of creating and annihilating possibilities for himself (and for him alone) in his world.Therefore, his consciousness is no different than yours or mine, except for the fact that his consciousness cannot affect others. Any more thoughts on that?

What a fascinating statement, a seed in fertile ground! If you allow me, and without any pretension, I will try to add some water and see what is going to grow… (1) Consciousness is always consciousness of…something. Consciousness can be projected outward into the world. Consciousness can also be directed on itself. When the latter, consciousness becomes conscious of itself as being conscious. This suggests two levels of consciousness: a ‘positional consciousness’, which is projected (outward or inward) and a ‘nonpositional consciousness’, which is the foundation of consciousness. Thus, you cannot be conscious of yourself before first becoming aware of you as being conscious. (2) By being conscious of you as being conscious, what follows is that you become conscious of you as being…in the world. You then become aware of the chair in the kitchen and the moon in the sky. With simple experimentation, you can find out that you can move the chair but not the moon. As you keep experimenting, you discover that there are things you can change, others that you want to change but cannot, and others that you don’t care to change. You have acquired knowledge. You become conscious of you has someone having possibilities (and limits) in the world. (3) As you experiment further, you reach a point where you see more than one possibility in front of you at a time, but you understand that you cannot have them all at once: You have to choose. Let’s look at the following scenario: (3a) Say that you are running for your life, away from a pack of wolves, and find yourself cornered on a riverside by some violent rapids. Quickly you figure out that you have only two choices: you either stay put (and yield and scream) or you jump in the rapids. You realize that there is nothing in the world that can stop you (or decide for you) to either stay put or plunge in the water. The choice is totally yours. You are absolutely free to choose either. You have become conscious of your total freedom of choice. (3b) Freedom it may be, but in that same split second, something else hits you: depending on your choice, different consequences are likely to follow. At the moment that you select one of the two choices (stay put or plunge), the other will immediately vanish forever, and new possibilities will appear. If you stay put, you are likely to be devoured (painful but rapid death) but there is a chance that a hunter bolts from the tree line to save you. If you plunge, however, you can drown (less painful but slower death) or you have a chance to survive after being dragged down the river for miles while rocks break all your bones. (3c) You have two chances of staying alive; still, you hesitate before making your choice. You become aware of yet another problem: you don’t know for sure what will happen. You only know what is likely to happen, the possibilities, but you have no knowledge whatsoever of the future. Let’s see where we are now from the statement we started from. A. “Consciousness is the knowledge…” From (1), consciousness cannot be “knowledge”, since consciousness is “consciousness of something”. In other words, consciousness is being conscious of knowing something, not the knowledge itself. B. “…your actions today…” From (2) and (3a), any and all actions (or inactions) that you consciously take are the expression of your freedom of choice. You have absolute freedom to choose any options that are in the realm of your possibilities and nothing in the world can stop you or make choices for you. C. “…consequences in the future.” From (3b and c), every single choice you make creates new possibilities and, at the same time, annihilates others. These are the consequences of your choices. The tricky thing, however, is that you have no way to know for sure the consequences of your choices; you can only evaluate the likeliness of what may happen. If we put A, B and C together, we get: Consciousness is being conscious of our own total and unrestrainable freedom of creating and annihilating possibilities for ourselves (and, to a point, others) in the world.A corollary: The greater your knowledge of possibilities (science, wisdom), the higher your consciousness. Another one: The more we experiment with the world, the more we learn about the world, the more we develop our consciousness, the more complex (and rich?) our lives become. Time to pass the ball to someone else who wants to add water (or fire) to this discussion.