Category: Mind

Could Intentionality be an Illusion? A Note on Rosenberg

Could intentonality be an illusion?  Of course not.  But seemingly intelligent people think otherwise:

A single still photograph doesn't convey movement the way a motion picture does. Watching a sequence of slightly different photos one photo per hour, or per minute, or even one every 6 seconds won't do it either. But looking at the right sequence of still pictures succeeding each other every one-twentieth of a second produces the illusion that the images in each still photo are moving. Increasing the rate enhances the illusion, though beyond a certain rate the illusion gets no better for creatures like us. But it's still an illusion. There is noting to it but the succession of still pictures. That's how movies perpetrate their illusion. The large set of still pictures is organized together in a way that produces in creatures like us the illusion that the images are moving. In creatures with different brains and eyes, ones that work faster, the trick might not work. In ones that work slower, changing the still pictures at the rate of one every hour (as in time-lapse photography) could work. But there is no movement of any of the images in any of the pictures, nor does anything move from one photo onto the next. Of course, the projector is moving, and the photons are moving, and the actors were moving. But all the movement that the movie watcher detects is in the eye of the beholder. That is why the movement is illusory.

The notion that thoughts are about stuff is illusory in roughly the same way. Think of each input/output neural circuit as a single still photo. Now, put together a huge number of input/output circuits in the right way. None of them is about anything; each is just an input/output circuit firing or not. But when they act together, they "project" the illusion that there are thoughts about stuff. They do that through the behavior and the conscious experience (if any) that they produce. (Alex Rosenberg, The Atheists' Guide to Reality: Enjoying Life Without Illusions.  The quotation was copied from here.)

Rosenberg is not saying, as an emergentist might, that the synergy of sufficiently many neural circuits gives rise to genuine object-directed thoughts.    He is saying something far worse, something literally nonsensical, namely, that the object-directed thought that thoughts are object-directed is an illusion.  The absurdity of Rosenberg's position can be seen as follows.

1. Either the words "The notion that thoughts are about stuff is illusory"  express a thought — the thought that there are no object-directed thoughts — or they do not. 
2. If the latter, then the words are meaningless.
3. If the former, then the thought is either true or false.
4. If the thought is true, then there there are no object-directed thoughts, including the one expressed by Rosenberg's words, and so his words are once again meaningless.
5. If the thought is false, then there are object-directed thoughts, and Rosenberg's claim is false.
Therefore
6. Rosenberg's claim is either meaningless or false.  His position is self-refuting.

As for the analogy, it is perfectly hopeless, presupposing as it does genuine intrinsic intentionality.  If I am watching a movie of a man running, then I am under an illusion in that there is nothing moving on the movie screen: there is just a series of stills. But the experience I am undergoing is a perfectly good experience that exhibits genuine intrinsic intentionality: it is a visual experiencing of a man running, or to be perfectly punctilious about it: a visual experiencing AS OF a man running.  Whether or not the man depicted exists, as would be the case if the movie were a newsreel, the experience exists, and so cannot be illusory.

 To understand the analogy one must understand that there are intentional experiences, experiences that take an accusative.  But if you understand that, then you ought to be able to understand that the analogy cannot be used to render intelligible how it might that it is illusory that there are intentional experiences.

What alone remains of interest here is how a seemingly intelligent fellow could adopt a position so manifestly absurd.  I suspect the answer is that he has stupefied himself  by  his blind adherence to scientistic/naturalistic ideology.

Here is an earlier slap at Rosenberg.  Peter Lupu joins in the fun here.

Memory, Memory Traces, and Causation

Hippy-trippyPassing a lady in the supermarket I catch a whiff of patchouli.  Her scent puts me in mind of hippy-trippy Pamela from the summer of '69.  An olfactory stimulus in the present causes a memory, also in the present, of an event long past, a tête-à-tête with a certain girl.  How ordinary, but how strange! Suddenly I am 'brought back' to the fantastic and far-off summer of '69.  Ah yes!  What is memory and how does it work?  How is it even possible? 

Let's start with the 'datanic' as I like to say:

1. There are (veridical) memories through which we gain epistemic access to the actual past, to events that really happened.  The above example is a case of episodic personal memory.  I remember an event in my personal past.  To be precise, I remember my having experienced an event in my personal past.  My having been born by Caesarean section is also an episode from my personal past, and I remember that that was my mode of exiting my mother's body; but I don't remember experiencing that transition.  So not every autobiographical memory is a personal episodic memory.  The latter is the only sort of memory I will be discussing in this post.  The sentence in boldface is the nonnegotiable starting point of our investigation. 

We now add a couple of more theoretical and less datanic propositions, ones which are not obvious, but are  plausible and accepted by many theorists:

2. Memory is a causal notion.  A mental image of a past event needn't be a memory of a past event.  So what makes a mental image of a past event a memory image?  Its causal history.  My present memory has a causal history that begins with the event in 1969 as I experienced it.

3. There is no action at a temporal distance.  There is no direct causation over a temporal gap.  There are no remote causes; every cause is a proximate cause.  A necessary ingredient of causation is spatiotemporal contiguity.  So while memory is a causal notion, my present memory of the '69 event is not directly caused by that event.  For how could an event that no longer exists directly cause, over a decades-long temporal gap, a memory event in the present?  That would seem to be something 'spooky,' a kind of magic. 

Each of these propositions lays strong claim to our acceptance.  But how can they all be true?  (1) and (2) taken together appear to entail the negation of (3).  How then can we accommodate them all?

Memory trace theories provide a means of accommodation.  Suppose there are memory traces or engrams engraved in some medium.  For materialists this medium will have to be the brain.  One way to think of a memory trace is as a brain modification that was caused at the time of the original experience, and that persists since that time.  So the encounter with Pam in '69 induced a change in my brain, left a trace there, a trace which has persisted since then.  When I passed the patchouli lady in the supermarket, the olfactory stimulus 'activated' the dormant memory trace.   This activation of the memory trace either is or causes the memory experience whose intentional object is the past event.  With the help of memory traces we get causation wthout action at a temporal distance. 

(Far out, man!)

The theory or theory-schema just outlined seems to allow us to uphold each of the above propositions. In particular, it seems to allow us to explain how a present memory of a past event can be caused by the past event without the past event having to jump the decades-long temporal gap between event remembered and memory.  The memory trace laid down in '69 by the original experience exists in the present and is activated in the present by the sensory stimulus.  Thus the temporal contiguity requirement is satisfied.  And if the medium in which the memory traces are stored is the brain or central nervous system, then the spatial contiguity requirement is also satisfied.

Question:  Could memory traces play merely causal roles?

Given (2) and (3), it seems that memory traces must be introduced as causal mediators between past and present.  But could they be just that?  Or must they also play a representational role?  Intuitively, it seems that nothing could be a memory trace unless it somehow represented the event of which it is a trace. If E isthe original experience, and T is E's trace, then it it seems we must say that T is of E in a two-fold sense corresponding to the difference between the subjective and objective genitive.  First, T is of E in that T is E's trace, the one that E caused. Second, T is of E in that T represents E. 

It seems obvious that a trace must represent.  In my example,the sensory stimulus (the whiff of patchouli) is not of or about the '69 event.  It merely activates the trace, rendering the dispositional occurrent.  But the memory is about the '69 event.  So the aboutness must reside in the trace.  The trace must represent the event that caused it  – and no other past event.  The memory represents because the trace represents.  If the trace didn't represent anything, how could the memory — which is merely the activation of the trace or an immediate causal consequence of the activation of the trace — represent anything?  How a persisting brain modification — however it is conceived, whether it is static or dynamic, whether localized or nonlocalized — can represent anything is an important and vexing question but one I will discuss in a later post.

Right now I want to nail down the claim that memory traces cannot play a merely causal role, but must also bear the burden of representation.

Suppose a number of strangers visit me briefly.  I want to remember them,  but my power of memory is very weak and I know I will not remember them without the aid of some mnemonic device.  So I have my visitors leave calling cards.  They do so, except that they are all the same, and all blank (white).  These blank cards are their traces, one per visitor.   The visitors leave, but the cards remain behind as traces of their visit.  I store the cards in a drawer.  I 'activate' a card by pulling it out of storage and looking at it.  I am then reminded (at most) that I had a visitor, but not put in mind of any particular visitor such as Tom.  So even if the card in my hand was produced by Tom, that card is useless for the purpose of remembering Tom.  Likewise for every other card.  Each was produced by someone in particular and only by that person; but none of them 'bring back' any particular person. 

Bear in my mind that I don't directly remember any of my visitors.  My only memory access to them is via their traces, their calling cards.  For the visitors are long gone just like the '69 experience.  So the problem is not merely that I don't know which card is from which person; the problem is that I cannot even distinguish the persons.  

Had each visitor left a differently  colored card, that would not have helped.  Nor are matters helped if each visitor leaves a different sort of trace; a bottle cap, a spark plug, a lock of hair, a guitar pick.  Even if  Tom is a guitar player and leaves a guitar pick, that is unhelpful too  since I have no access to Tom except via his trace. 

So it doesn't matter whether my ten visitors leave ten tokens of the same type, or ten tokens each of a different type.  Either way I won't be able to remember them via the traces they leave behind.  Clearly, what I need from each visitor is an item that uniquely represents him or her — as opposed to an item that is merely caused to be in my house by the visitor.  Suppose Tom left a unique guitar pick, the only one of its kind in existence.  That wouldn't help either since no inspection of that unique pick could reveal that it was of Tom rather than of Eric or Eric's cat.  Ditto if Tom has signed his card or his pick 'Tom Riff.'  That might be a phony name, or the name of him and his guitar — doesn't B. B . King call his guitar 'Lucille'?

If I can remember that it was Tom who left the guitar pick, then of course I don't need the guitar pick to remember Tom by.  I simply remember Tom directly without the need for a trace.  On the other hand, if I do need a trace in order to remember long gone Tom, then that trace must have representational power: it cannot be merely something that plays a causal role. 

Traces theories have to avoid both circularity and vicious infinite regress.

Circularity.  To explain the phenomenon of memory, the trace theory posits the existence of memory traces.  But if the explanation in terms of traces ends up presupposing memory, then the theory is circular and worthless.  If what makes the guitar pick a trace of Tom is that I remember that Tom left it, then the explanation is circular.  Now consider the trace T in my brain which, when activated by stimulus S causes a memory M of past experience E.  M represents E because T represents E.  What makes T represent E? What makes the memory trace caused by the encounter with Pam in '69 represent Pam or my talking with her?  The answer cannot be that I remember the memory trace being caused by the encounter with Pam.  For that would be blatantly circular.  Besides, memory traces in the brain are not accessible to introspection.

Infinite Regress.  Our question is: what makes T represent E and nothing else?  To avoid circularity one might say this:  There is a trace T* which records the fact of E's production of T, and T represents E in virtue of T*.  But this leads to a  vicious infinite regress.   Suppose Sally leaves a photo of herself.  How do I know that the photo is of Sally and not of her sister Ally?  If you say that I directly remember Sally and thereby know that the photo is unambiguously of her, then you move in a circle.  You may as well just say that we remember directly and not via traces.  So, to hold onto the trace theory, one might say the following:  There is a photo of Sally and her photograph, side by side.  Inspection of  this photo reveals that that the first photo is of Sally.  But this leads to regress:  what makes the second photo a photo of the first?

Conclusion:  To avoid both circularity and infinite regress, memory traces must possess intrinsic representational power.  Their role cannot be merely causal.

A later post will then address the question whether memory traces could have intrinsic representational power.  If you are a regular reader of this blog you will be able to guess my answer.

REFERENCE:  John Heil, "Traces of Things Past," Philosophy of Science, vol. 45, no. 1 (March 1978), pp. 60-72.  My calling card example above is a reworking of Heil's tennis ball example.

 

More on Intentionality as a Problem for Functionalism

1. Even if every mental state is a brain state, it is quite clear that  not every brain state is a mental state: not everything going on in the brain manifests mentality. So what distinguishes the brain states that are mental states from the brain states that are not? This question cannot be evaded.

The distinguishing feature cannot be anything intrinsic to brain states qua brain states. To put it another way, the biological, electrochemical, and other terms appropriate to the description of  brain phenomena are of no help in specifying what makes a brain state  mental. Talk of axons, dendrites, synapses, diffusion of sodium ions across synapses, etc. is not the sort of talk that makes intelligible why a particular complex state of Jones' brain is his intense elation at getting his neuroscience text accepted for publication.
  
2. To help you understand what I have just said, I offer an analogy.  Even though every valve-lifter is an engine part, it is quite clear that not every engine part is a valve-lifter. So what distinguishes  the engine parts that are valve-lifters from the parts that are not?

The distinguishing feature cannot be anything intrinsic to engine parts qua physical objects. The mechanical, chemical, electrical, metallurgical and other terms appropriate to the description of engine parts are of no help in specifying what makes an engine part a  valve-lifter. A metallurgist might tell us everything there is to know  about the physical properties of those engine parts that are valve-lifters. But knowing all of that, I do not yet know what makes the part in question a valve-lifter. Similarly, I don't know what makes a certain heavy object under my hood a battery just in virtue of knowing all the electrochemistry involved in its operation.

3. The obvious thing to say at this point is that what make an engine part a valve-lifter or a battery or a generator or a transmission is its function. Physical composition is irrelevant. What makes a part a valve-lifter is the causal role it instantiates within the 'economy'  of the engine. A thing is a valve-lifter in virtue of the job it does  when properly connected to valves, cams, etc. Its being a valve-lifter is not intrinsic to it. Its being is its function within a system whose parts are causally interrelated.

I stress that physical composition is irrelevant. Anything that does the job of a valve-lifter is a valve-lifter. Anything that does the job of a modem is a modem.  There is more than one implementation of the modulation-demodulation function.  The function is 'multiply  realizable' as we say in the trade. Of course, not every physical substratum supports the function: not even in Eskimo land could valve-lifters in internal combustion engines be made of ice.

Another important point is that a particular thing that functions as a valve-lifter can assume other functions, that of paper-weight for example.  So not only are causal roles typically multiply realizable, causal role occupants or realizers are typically multi-functional. 

I think we are all functionalists when it comes to things like valve-lifters, screwdrivers, switches, and modems. Anything that modulates/demodulates is a modem regardless of the stuff inside the
box that realizes or implements the function. For all we care, there is a colony of leprechauns inside the box that chop up the analog input into digital bits. If it does the job of a modem, it IS a modem.

Can we apply this functionalist model to the mind?

4. If there is nothing intrinsic to brain states that explains why some of them are mental states, then the naturalist must look to the extrinsic or relational features of brain states. How do they function? What causal role do they play? How do they stand in relation to inputs and outputs? How did they come into being? What are they good for?

One answer is the functionalist theory that causal role is what makes a brain state a mental state. What makes a mental state mental is just  the causal role it plays in mediating between sensory inputs,   behavioral outputs and other internal states of the subject whose state it is. The idea is not the banality that mental events have causes and effects, but that it is causal role occupancy, nothing more and nothing less, that constitutes the mentality of a mental state. The intrinsic nature of what plays the role is relevant only to its fitness for instantiating mental causal roles but not at all relevant to its being a mental state.

That's the basic idea. What makes a brain state a desire is the causal role that state plays. There is nothing intrinsic to the brain state itself that could tell you that it was a desire for a beer rather than
an intention to paint the bathroom, or a memory of a trip to the Grand Canyon.  In their intrinsic nature mental states are just brain states; it is only their external relations that confer upon them mentality.

5. Here is one problem. It seems clear that my intention to clear brush could not have been a desire for a cold beer. Nor could it be an intention to paint the bathroom. The act of intending is individuated by its intentional content (to clear brush; to pain the bathroom): the content enters into the description of the act. This entails that the act could not have been an act having a different content.

But if it is causal role occupancy that makes brain state B an intention to clear brush, then B could have been an intention to paint the bathroom, had its causal relations been different.  Since this is absurd, it cannot be causal role occupancy  that makes B an intention to clear brush.  The fact of intentionality refutes functionalism.

Compare the valve-lifter. A particular engine part is a valve-lifter in virtue of the causal role it plays in the engine. But that part might not have been in the engine; it might have been on my desk weighing down papers, in which case it would have been playing a different causal role. There is no problem in this case because valve-lifters lack content, or directedness to an object. A valve-lifter is not about anything. But an intention is. And this aboutness is intrinsic to it, which is why it cannot be captured extrinsically in terms of functional role.

So one should not suppose that qualia are the only problems for functionalism.  Intentionality is just as much of a problem.  Compare the Martian neuroscientist argument given earlier.

Besides, one is superficial and thoughtless if one imagines that a clean separation can be made between qualia and intentional phenomena.  But that's a separate post.

Intentionality Not a ‘Hard Problem’ for Physicalists?

The qualia-based objections are supposed to pose a 'hard' problem for defenders of physicalism.  The implication is that the problems posed by intentionality are, if not exactly 'easy,' then at least tractable.  An earlier post discussed a version of the knowledge argument, which is one of the qualia-based objections.  (Two others are the absent qualia argument and the zombie argument.)  It seems to me, though, that intentionality is also a damned hard problem for physicalists to solve, so hard in fact as to be insoluble within physicalist constraints and another excellent  reason to reject physicalism.

Before proceeding I want to make two preliminary points. 

The first is that the untenability of physicalism does not entail the acceptability of substance dualism. Contrapositively, the unacceptability of substance dualism does not entail the tenability of physicalism.  So if a physicalist wishes to point out the problems with substance dualism,  he is free to do so.  But he ought not think that such problems supply compelling reasons to be a physicalist.  For it is obvious that the positions stand to each other as logical contraries; hence both could be be false.

My second point is that considerations of parsimony do favor physicalism over dualistic schemes — but only on condition that the relevant data can be adequately accounted for.  And that is one big  'only if.'  (See The Use and Abuse of Occam's Razor: On Multiplying Entities Beyond Necessity.)

An Argument Sketched.  Mary, Meet Marty.

We were talking about Frank Jackson's Mary.  Now I introduce Marty, a Martian scientist who like Mary knows everything there is to know about human brains and their supporting systems.  So he knows all about what goes in the human brain and CNS when we humans suffer and enjoy twinges and tingles, smells and stinks, sights and sounds, etc.  We will suppose that Marty's sensorium is very different, perhaps totally different than ours.  He may have infrared color qualia but no color qualia corresponding to the portion of the EM spectrum for which we have color qualia.  Marty also knows everything there is to know about what goes on in my head when I think about various things.  We may even suppose that Marty is studying me right now with his super-sophisticated instruments and knows exactly what is going on in my head right now when I am in various intentional states.

Suppose I am now thinking about dogs. I needn't be thinking about any particular dog; I might just be thinking about getting a dog, which of course does not entail that there is some particular dog, Kramer say, that I am thinking about getting. Indeed, one can think about getting a dog that is distinct from every dog presently in existence! How? By thinking about having a dog breeder do his thing. If a woman tells her husband that she wants a baby, more likely than not, she is not telling him that she wants to kidnap or adopt some existing baby, but that she wants the two of them to engage in the sorts of conjugal activities that can be expected to cause a baby to exist.  Same with me.  I can want a dog or a cat or a sloop or a matter transmitter even if the object of my wanting does not presently exist.

So right now I am thinking about a dog, but no presently existing dog.  My thinking has intentional content. It is an instance of what philosophers call intentionality.  My act of thinking takes an object, or has an accusative. It exhibits  aboutness or of-ness in the way a pain quale does not exhibit aboutness of of-ness.   It is important to realize that my thinking is intrinsically such as to be about a dog:  the aboutness is not parasitic upon an external relation to an actual dog.  That is why I rigged the example the way I did.  My thinking is object-directed despite there being no object in existence to which I am externally related.  This blocks attempts to explain intentionality in terms of causation.  Such attempts fail in any case.  See my post on Representation and Causation.

The question is whether the Martian scientist can determine what that intentional content is by monitoring my neural states during the period of time I am thinking about a dog. The content before my mind has various subcontents: hairy critter, mammal, barking animal, man's best friend . . . .  But none of this content will be discernible to the Martian neuroscientist on the basis of complete knowledge of my neural states, their relations to each other and to sensory input and behavioral output. To strengthen the argument we may stipulate that Marty lacks the very concept dog. Therefore, there is more to the mind than what can be known by even a completed neuroscience. Physicalism (materialism) is false.

The argument is this:

1. Marty knows all the physical and functional facts about my body and brain during the time I am thinking about a dog.
2. That I am thinking about a dog is a fact.
3.  Marty does not know that I am thinking about a dog.
Therefore
4. Marty does not know all the facts about me and my mental activity.
Therefore
5. There are mental facts that are not physical or functional facts, and physicalism is false.

Credit where credit is due:  The above is my take on a more detailed and careful argument presented here by Laurence BonJour.  Good day!

On Paul Churchland’s ‘Refutation’ of the Knowledge Argument

If this post needs theme music, I suggest Party Lights (1962) by the one-hit wonder, Claudine Clark:  "I see the lights/I see the party lights/They're red and blue and green/Everybody in the crowd is there/But you won't let me make the scene!"  (Because, mama dear, you've kept me cooped up in a black-and-white room studying neuroscience.)

…………………………..

The 'Knowledge Argument' as it is known in the trade has convinced many of the untenability of functionalism in the philosophy of mind.  Here is Paul M. Churchland's presentation of Frank Jackson's version of the argument:

1. Mary knows everything there is to know about brain states and their properties.
2. It is not the case that Mary knows everything there is to know about sensations and their properties.
Therefore, by Leibniz's law [i.e., the Indiscernibility of Identicals; see my post 'Leibniz's Law': A Useless Expression],
3. Sensations and their properties are not identical to brain states and their properties.

("Reduction, Qualia, and the Direct Introspection of the Brain," Journal of Philosophy, vol. 82, no. 1, January 1985, pp. 8-28, sec. IV, "Jackson's Knowledge Argument.")

Mary is a brilliant neuroscientist who has spent her entire life in a visually impoverished state.  Pent up in a room from birth and sheltered from colors, her visual experience is restricted to black and white and shades of gray.  You are to imagine that she has come to know everything there is to know about the brain and its visual system.  Her access to the outer world is via black-and-white TV.  The neuroscience texts over which she so assiduously pores have beeen expurgated by the dreaded Color Censor.

Churchland finds two "shortcomings" with the above argument. I will discuss only the first in this post.

Churchland smells a fallacy of equivocation.  'Knows about,' he claims, is being used in different senses in (1) and (2):

Knowledge in (1) seems to be a matter of having mastered a set of sentences or propositions, the kind one finds written in neuroscience texts, whereas knowledge in (2) seems to be a matter of having a representation of redness in some prelingusitic or sublinguistic medium of representation for sensory variables, or to be a matter of being able to make certain sensory discriminations, or something along these lines. (Emphasis in original)

Rather than argue that that there is no equivocation in the argument as Churchland formulates it, I think it is best to concede the point, urging instead that Chuchland has not presented the Knowledge Argument fairly.  He finds an equivocation only because he has set up a straw man.  Consider the following version:

4. Mary knows all of the of the physical facts about color vision.
5. Venturing outside her black-and-white domain for the first time, she comes to know a new fact: what it is like to see red.
Therefore
6. This new fact is not a physical fact.

There is no equivocation on 'knows' in this argument.  Mary knows all of the physical facts about the brain and the visual system.  If the physical facts are all the facts, then, when she emerges from the room and views a red sunset, she learns nothing new.  But this is not the case.  She does learn something new, something she might express by exclaiming, "So this is what it is like to see red!"  That is a new fact that she comes to know.

The best counter to this argument is to deny (2) by arguing that that no new fact is learned when Mary steps outside.  Mary simply acquires a new concept, a new way of gaining epistemic access to the same old physical facts, namely, the physical and functional facts involved in seeing a red thing.  As Churchland puts it,

. . . the difference between a person who knows all about the visual cortex but has never enjoyed a sensation of red, and a person who knows no neuroscience but knows well the sensation of red, may reside not in what is respectively known by each (brain states by the former, qualia by the latter), but rather in the different type of knowledge each has of exactly the same thing.  The difference is in the manner of the knowing, not in the nature(s) of the thing known. (Emphases in original)

Churchland's suggestion is that one and the same  physical reality appears, or can appear, in two different ways, a third-person way and a first-person way, and that this first-person way of access is no evidence of a first-person way of being.  The sensory quale is not an item distinct from the underlying state of the brain, an item that escapes the physicalist's net; the quale is a mode of presentation of the brain state.   The quale is an appearance of the brain state.  And so Churchland thinks that one can have knowledge of one's sensations via their qualitative features without knowing any neuroscience without it being the case that "sensations are beyond the reach of physical science."

In sum, sensations are identical to brain states.  But they can be accessed in two ways, via qualia, and via neuroscience.  That there are two different modes of epistemic access does not entail that qualia are distinct in reality from brain states.  One and the same btrain "uses more modes and media or representation than the simple stoarge of sentences." 

Critique

Unfortunately, there is no clear sense in which a quale is an appearance of a brain state. The former may be caused by the latter. But that is not to say that the  quale is of or about the brain state. Phenomenal redness does not present a brain state to me. It does not present anything (distinct from itself) to me. After all, qualia are non-intentional: they lack aboutness.   No doubt a quale has a certain content, but not an intentional or representational content. One can describe it without describing what it is of, for the simple reason that there is nothing it is of. An intentional state, however, cannot be described without describing what it is of.  I can't desire without desiring something, a cold beer, say.  So 'cold beer' enters, and enters necessarily, into the description of the mental state I am in when I desire a cold beer.  But no words referring to neural items need enter into the description of what I experience when I experience a yellowish-orange afterimage, or feel anxious.

Qualia do not play a merely epistemic role as Churchland thinks.  They are items in their own right.  They are not mere appearances of an underlying reality; they are items with their own mode of being.  For a quale, to be is to be perceived.  Its reality consists in its appearing.  For this reason it makes no sense to say that the reality of a quale is something distinct from it, something physical to which the quale refers.

Suppose someone, armed with the Indiscernibility of Identicals,  were to argue that the Morning Star and the Evening Star are numerically distinct because they differ property-wise, the one, but not the other, being the brightest celestial object in the morning sky.    Such an argument could be easily rebutted by pointing  out that the two 'stars'  are merely different modes of presentation of one and the same physical thing, the planet Venus.  Difference in epistemic access does not argue difference in being!  Churchland  thinks he can similarly rebut the person who argues that qualia are distinct from brain states by claiming that qualia and sentences of neuroscience are different modes of presentation or "media of representation" of one and the same thing, which is wholly physical.

But here is precisely where the mistake is made.  Qualia do not present or represent anything. In particular, they do not represent their causes.  They are items in their own right with their own mode of being, a mode of being distinct from the mode of being of physical items.  For a quale, to be is to be perceived.  For a physical item, this is not the case.  One cannot drive a wedge between the appearance and the reality of a quale; but one can and must drive such a wedge between the appearance and the reality of physical items. 

Even if one were to insist that qualia present or represent their underlying brain states, the materialist position would still be absurd.  For if x represents y, then x is distinct from y — in reality and not merely for us.  So if phenomenal redness is an appearance of a complex brain state, the two items are distinct.  Churchland thinks he can place qualia on the side of representation and then forget about them.  But that is an obvious mistake.

Underlying this obvious mistake is the fundamental absurdity of materialism, which is the attempt to understand mind in wholly non-mental terms.  It cannot be done since the very investigation of physical reality presupposes mind.

Against Functionalism in the Philosophy of Mind: Argument One

In my last philosophy of mind post on property dualism I posed a problem:

My problem, roughly, is that I don't understand how a physical particular (a brain, a region of a brain, a brain event, or state, or process) can instantiate one or more irreducibly mental properties. Why should there be a problem? Well, if a physical particular is exhaustively understandable in terms of physics (and the sciences based on it) then there is just nothing irreducibly mental about it, in which case it cannot instantiate an irreducibly mental property.

At the end of that post I provided an answer to that question:

Mental properties are functional properties. So when we say that x, a brain event say, has a mental property, all we mean is that it stands in certain causal relations to sensory inputs, behavioral outputs, and intervening brain events. So what makes the brain event mental is simply the relations in which it stands to inputs, outputs and other brain events. Once you grasp this, then you grasp that the brain event can be wholly physical in nature despite its having a mental property. Mental properties are not intrinsic but relational.

The answer, in short, is that mental properties are not intrinsic properties.  But then I wrote,

Unfortunately, this won't do. Felt sadness has an intrinsically mental nature that cannot be functionally characterized. A subsequent post will spell this out in detail.

This is the subsequent post.

Suppose Socrates Jones is in some such state as that of perceiving a tree. The state is classifiable as mental as opposed to a physical state like that of his lying beneath a tree. What makes a mental state
mental? That is the question.

The functionalist answer is that what makes a mental state mental is just the causal role it plays in mediating between the sensory inputs, behavioral outputs, and other internal states of the subject in question. The idea is not the banality that mental states typically (or even always) have causes and effects, but that it is causal role occupancy, nothing more and nothing less, that constitutes the
mentality of a mental state. The intrinsic nature of what plays the role is relevant only to its fitness for instantiating mental causal  roles, but not at all relevant to its being a mental state.

Consider a piston in an engine. You can't make a piston out of chewing gum, but being made of steel is no part of what makes a piston a piston. A piston is what it does within the 'economy' of the engine. Similarly, on functionalism, a mental state is what it does. This allows, but does not entail, that a mental state be a brain or CNS state. It also allows, but does not entail, that a mental state be a state of a  computing machine.

To illustrate, suppose my cat Zeno and I are startled out of our respective reveries by a loud noise at time t. Given the differences  between human and feline brains, presumably man and cat are not in type-identical brain states at t.  (One of the motivations for functionalism was the breakdown of the old type-type identity theory of Herbert Feigl, U. T. Place. J. J. C. Smart, et al.)  Yet both man and cat are startled: both are in some sense in the same mental state, even though the states they are in are neither token- nor type-identical. The   functionalist will hold that we are in functionally the same mental state in virtue of the fact that Zeno's brain state plays the same  role in him as my brain state plays in me. It does the same  mediatorial job vis-a-vis sensory inputs, other internal states, and  behavioral outputs in me as the cat's brain state does in him.

On functionalism, then, the mentality of the mental is wholly relational. And as David Armstrong points out, "If the essence of the mental is purely relational, purely a matter of what causal role is played, then the logical possibility remains that whatever in fact plays the causal role is not material." This implies that "Mental states might be states of a spiritual substance." Thus the very feature of functionalism that allows mentality to be realized in computers and nonhuman brains generally, also allows it to be realized in spiritual substances if there are any.

Whether this latitudinarianism is thought to be good or bad, functionalism is a monumentally implausible theory of mind. There are the technical objections that have spawned a pelagic literature: absent qualia, inverted qualia, the 'Chinese nation,' etc. Thrusting these aside, I go for the throat, Searle-style.

Functionalism is threatened by a fundamental incoherence. The theory states that what makes a state mental is nothing intrinsic to the state, but purely relational: a matter of its causes and effects. In us, these happen to be neural. (I am assuming physicalism for the time being.)  Now every mental state is a neural state, but not every neural state is a mental state. So the distinction between mental and nonmental neural states must be accounted for in terms of a distinction between two different sets of causes and effects, those that contribute to mentality and those that do not. But how make this distinction? How do the causes/effects of mental neural events differ from the causes/effects of nonmental neural events? Equivalently, how do psychologically salient input/output events differ from those that lack such salience?

Suppose the display on my monitor is too bright for comfort and I decide to do something about it. Why is it that photons entering my retina are psychologically salient inputs but those striking the back of my head are not? Why is it that the moving of my hand to to adjust the brightness and contrast controls is a salient output event, while unnoticed perspiration is not?

One may be tempted to say that the psychologically salient inputs are those that contribute to the production of the uncomfortable glare sensation, and the psychologically salient outputs are those that manifest the concomitant intention to make an adjustment. But then the salient input/output events are being picked out by reference to mental events taken precisely NOT as causal role occupants, but as exhibiting intrinsic features that are neither causal nor neural: the glare quale has an intrinsic nature that cannot be resolved into relations to other items, and cannot be identified with any brain state. The functionalist would then be invoking the very thing he is at pains to deny, namely, mental events as having more than neural and causal features.

Clearly, one moves in a circle of embarrassingly short diameter if one says: (i) mental events are mental because of the mental causal roles they play; and (ii) mental causal roles are those whose occupants are mental events.

The failure of functionalism is particularly evident in the case of qualia.  Examples of qualia: felt pain, a twinge of nostalgia, the smell of burnt garlic, the taste of avocado.  Is it plausible to say that such qualia can be exhaustively factored into a neural component and a causal/functional component?  It is the exact opposite of plausible.  It is not as loony as the eliminativist denial of quali, but it is close.  The intrinsic nature of qualitative mental states is essential to them. It is that intrinsic qualitative nature that dooms functionalism.

I conclude that if the only way to render property dualism coherent is by construing mental properties as functional properties, then property dualism is untenable.

Property Dualism and Supervenience

A reader asked why I didn't mention supervenience in my recent posts on property dualism.  He opines that "the notion was invented to make sense of the position you are arguing against."  Let's see.

My Problem With Property Dualism Roughly Stated

I take a property dualist to be one who maintains all of the following propositions:

1. There are irreducibly mental properties.
2. There are irreducibly physical properties.
3. All particulars are physical particulars.
4. Some but not all particulars instantiate both irreducibly mental and irreducibly physical properties.

My problem, roughly, is that I don't understand how a physical particular (a brain, a region of a brain, a brain event, or state, or process)  can instantiate one or more irreducibly mental properties.  Why should there be a problem?  Well, if a physical particular is exhaustively understandable in terms of physics (and the sciences based on it)  then there is just nothing irreducibly mental about it, in which case it cannot instantiate an irreducibly mental property.  I am making the following assumption:

A. If a nonrelational predicate P is true of a particular x, then there must be something in or about x that grounds P's applicability to x.

So if 'feels pain' is true of a physical particular, and 'feels pain' picks out an irreducibly mental property, then there must be something irreducibly mental about that physical particular.  Otherwise there would be nothing in or about the particular that could render the predicate true of the particular.  But if there is something irreducibly mental about a physical particular, then that particular is not physical in the sense of being exhaustively understandable in terms of physics.

I find (A) to be self-evident.  For suppose you were to deny it.  Then you would be countenancing the following:  there is some particular x that instantiates a property P-ness even though the nature of x excludes P-ness.  You would be countenancing, for example, an electron (which is course a negatively charged particle) which yet instantiates the property of being positively charged.  If a particular has a an intrinsic (non-relational) property, then that property expresses what the  particular is, its nature (in a broad sense of this term).

Now we have to see whether the notion of supervenience can help me with my problem.

Strong Supervenience

The problem for the nonreductive physicalist is that he must avoid both eliminativism and reductionism but without falling into epiphenomenalism, emergentism, or (of course) substance dualism. Epiphenomenalism cannot accommodate the fact that mental phenomena sometimes enter into the etiology of physical events, while emergentism and substance dualism leave physicalism behind. The problem is to somehow secure the reality, the causal efficacy, and the irreducibility of the mental while maintaining the dependence of the mental on the physical. Nice work if you can get it!  What the physicalist needs, it seems, is a dualism of properties together with the idea that the mental properties somehow nonreductively depend on the physical ones. But how articulate this dependency relation?

Enter supervenience. The basic idea is that mental properties are not identical with, but merely supervene upon, physical properties in the way in which ethical properties have been thought (by G. E. Moore, R. M. Hare, and others) to supervene upon natural properties. Suppose A and B are both ethically good. It does not follow that there is any one natural, non-disjunctive, property with which goodness can be identified. Perhaps A is good in virtue of being brave and trustworthy, whereas B is good in virtue of being temperate and just. Goodness is in this sense "multiply realizable." A and B are both good despite the fact that their goodness is realized by different natural properties.

Nevertheless, (i) a person cannot be good unless there is some natural property in virtue of whose possession he is good, and (ii) if a person is good in virtue of possessing certain natural properties, then anyone possessing the same natural properties must also be good. Given that A-properties supervene upon B-properties, the "supervenience T-shirt" might read: "No A-property without a B-property" on the front; "same B-properties, same A-properties" on the back. As Jaegwon Kim puts it, "The core idea of supervenience as a relation between two families of properties is that the supervenient properties are in some sense determined by, or dependent upon, the properties on which they supervene." (Jaegwon Kim, "Epiphenomenal and Supervenient Causation," in Supervenience and Mind: Selected Philosophical Essays, Cambridge University Press, 1995, p. 98.)

Kim's preferred way of cashing this out is in terms of strong supervenience. Let A and B be families of properties closed under such Boolean operations as complementation, conjunction and disjunction. A strongly supervenes on B just in case:

(SS) Necessarily, for any property F in A, if any object x has F, then there exists a property G in B such that x has G, and necessarily anything having G has F.

Applying (SS) to physicalism, we may define the determination thesis of strong supervenience physicalism as the view that, necessarily, (i) for any mental property M, if x has M, then there is  physical property P such that x has P, and (ii) necessarily, anything having P has M.

But how does this help me with my problem?  If x has M and M is an irreducibly mental property, then, by assumption (A) above,  x is at least in part mental, and not wholly physical where 'wholly physical' means 'exhaustively understandable in terms of physics and the sciences based on it.'    This problem is not solved by telling me that x cannot have a mental property without having a physical property, and that anything having that physical property must have the mental property.  For my problem is precisely how x, which is wholly physical, can have an irreducibly mental property in the first place.

One might respond along the following lines.  "Look, the whole idea here is that mental properties are functional properties.  So when we say that x, a brain event say, has a mental property, all we mean is that it stands in certain causal relations to sensory inputs, behavioral outputs, and intervening brain events.  So what makes the brain event mental is simply the relations in which it stands to inputs, outputs and other brain events. Once you grasp this, then you grasp that the brain event can be wholly physical in nature despite its having a mental property.  Mental properties are not intrinsic but relational."

Unfortunately, this won't do.  Felt sadness has an intrinsically mental nature that cannot be functionally characterized.  A subsequent post will spell this out in detail. 

Besides, if the property dualist holds that mental properties are really relational, then, strictly speaking, he is not a property dualist. He is not maintaining that there are two sorts of properties, but that mentality consists of relations and that there are no monadic mental properties.  Furthermore, his talk of irreducibility must mean only that that type-type identities fail, that for every mental property there is not one unique physical property with which it is identical.  Irreducibility  boils down to multiple realizability.  Mental 'properties' are irreducible in that they are multiply realizable. 

Property Dualism, the Red Ball Analogy, and Emergence

This post advances the discussion in the ComBox attached to Could Brains Have Mental Properties?

It would be very easy to be a property dualist in the philosophy of mind if one were also a substance dualist.  What I am having trouble understanding is how a property dualist can be a substance monist. In contemporary discussions, the one category of substances is that of material substances. 'Property dualism,' then, is an abbreviated name for the position in the philosophy of mind according to which mental and physical properties are mutually irreducible — hence the dualism — but had by the only kind of substances there are, material substances.  Hence the monism.  But having employed the traditional jargon,  I'll now drop the irridescent word 'substance' which will undoubtedly cause many to stumble and use 'particular' instead.  A particular is an unrepeatable entity.  It needn't be a continuant.  Events and processes count as particulars.

To come directly to my difficulty. How can an irreducibly mental property be instantiated by a physical particular?  An irreducibly mental property is one that is not identical with, or reducible to, any physical property.  Examples of mental properties:  being in pain; thinking about Thanksgiving dinner; having a blue sensation; wanting a cup of coffee.  This post assumes that at least some mental properties are irreducibly mental.  Various arguments have been given; this is not the place to rehearse them.  An irreducibly physical property is one that is not identical with, or reducible to, any mental property.  Examples of physical properties: impedance, ductility, motion, solubility, weighing 10 kg.  I will assume that all physical properties are irreducibly physical.  (It is not that I rule out idealism; it's that the goddess of blogging reminds me that brevity is the soul of blog.)

To further focus the question we need to exclude relational properties.  Weaver's Needle has the property of being thought about by me now.  So a physical particular has now an irreducibly mental property.  But this is unproblematic because the property in question is relational: it does not affect the Needle in its intrinsic nature.  But if my brain is what does the thinking in me, and I am thinking about Weaver's Needle, it is not so easy to understand how my brain, a physical thing, can have the irreducibly mental  intrinsic property, thinking about Weaver's Needle. (If you think that is not an intrinsic property, substitute wanting a sloop, given that there is  no particular sloop in existence that I want.)

So in what follows by 'irreducibly mental properties' I mean 'irreducibly mental intrinsic properties.'

My question is whether the following tetrad is consistent:

1. There are irreducibly mental properties.
2. There are irreducibly physical properties.
3. All particulars are physical particulars.
4. Some but not all particulars instantiate irreducibly mental and irreducibly physical properties.

You might think there is no problem.  Color and shape properties are mutually irreducible. Yet some physical particulars instantiate both color and shape properties.  A red ball is both red and spherical despite the mutual irreducibility of redness and sphericity.  Imagine that the red ball is red all the way through and not red merely on its surface.  This will preempt one from saying that the ball is red in virtue of a proper part of it being red.

So why can't mental and physical properties be had by one and the same physical particular?  Doesn't the analogy show that the tetrad is consistent?  Mental properties are to physical properties as color properties are to shape properties.  Just as one and the same physical particular, a ball say, can be both red and spherical, one and the same particular, a brain (or a portion of a brain or an event or process in a brain) can be both located in a region of space and thinking about Boston or feeling nostalgic.

I will now argue that the analogy is hopeless.

A Point of Disanalogy

Colors and shapes are mutually irreducible, but they are also such that color properties cannot be  instantiated without shape properties being instantiated, and vice versa.  I am talking about colors and shapes in Sellars' "manifest image," colors and shapes as they appear to normal visual perceivers.   No color is a shape; but it is also true that there are no colored particulars without shapes, and no shaped particulars without colors.   This is a point of phenomenology.  One cannot see a colored particular without seeing something that has some shape or other, and vice versa.  (And this is so even if the particular is an after-image.)  But only some material things are minds.  So we have a disanalogy.  Wherever a color property is instantiated, a shape property is instantiated, and wherever a shape property is instantiated, a color property is instantiated.  But it is not the case that wherever a physical property is instantiated a mental property instantiated.  There are plenty of physical particulars that lack mental features even if it is true that everything with mental features also has physical features.  Why the asymmetry?  This needs to be explained.

Mental Properties as Emergent Properties

Assuming that all particulars are physical particulars  — that there are no unembodied or disembodied or possibly disembodied minds — why do only some particulars have mental properties? Probably the most plausible thing to say is that only some physical systems are sufficiently complex to 'give rise' to mentality.  This implies that mental properties are  emergent:  they are system features that are not reducible to or explicable in terms of the properties of the parts of the system even when their causal interactions are taken into account.

Bear in mind that not every system feature is emergent.  Suppose a wall is made of 1000 piled stones and nothing else, each stone weighing one lb.  It follows that the system — the wall — weighs 1000 lbs.  But the property of weighing 1000 lbs., though a property of the whole and not of any part, is not an emergent property.  For it is determined by the properties of the parts.  In a more complicated system, the parts causally interact in significant ways.  (The stones in the wall interact too, but in insignificant ways.)  Think of a wrist watch.  The property of showing high noon, though a system property, is not an emergent property because it is determined by the properties and causal interactions of the parts.

An emergent property is one that is irreducible to the properties and causal interactions of the items in its emergence base, but somehow emerges from that emergence base and remains tied to it.  The notion of emergence is a curious and possibly incoherent one, combining as it does the notions of irreducibility and dependency.  An emergent property is dependent in that (i) it cannot exist uninstantiated, and (ii) it cannot exist unless the emergence base is sufficiently complex, and will continue to exist only as long as the emergence base retains its 'sufficient complexity.'    An emergent property is irreducible in that it cannot be accounted for in terms of the properties and interactions of the items in the emergence base.  This suggests that emergent properties are real iff they induce causal powers in their possessors above and beyond the causal powers that are explicable in terms of the items in the emergence base.

My point is that if only some physical systems exhibit mentality, namely, those systems that manifest a high degree of (biological) complexity,  then the mental properties of these systems must be emergent properties, properties that induce special causal powers in their possessors.  But then we must ask what are the possessors of these emergent mental properties.  The system as a whole, no doubt.  But what does that mean?  The mereological sum of the physical items that make up the system in question?  But a mereological sum is too frail a reed to support a property.  Indeed, some see no real distinction at all between a sum and its members.  We need something more substantial to serve as support of mental properties.  But I am at a loss to say what that more substantial something is.

The argument so far is as follows.  The red ball analogy fails because only some physical particulars instantiate irreducibly mental properties. This is readily explainable if irreducibly mental properties are emergent properties.  Emergent properties are system properties, properties of complex (biological) systems. But then the question arises as to what these emergent properties are properties of.  They can't be properties of the parts of a system taken distributively any more than the property of weighing 1000 lbs. can be taken to be a property of the stones composing a wall taken distributively.  So emergent properties are properties of wholes or collections of some sort.  But this seems problematic.

For one thing, there are many mental properties had by one minded organism.  I see a javelina; I hear it; I smell it. All in the unity of one consciousness.  The mental properties are not just instantiated; they are co-instantiated, instantiated in or by one thing.  If Manny sees, Moe hears, and Jack smells, it does not follow that there is one minded organism that does all three.  So if mental properties are emergent system properties we need to know which one item it is that instantiates them and unifies them.  The brain as a whole?  What does that mean?  No matter how we construe wholes, whether as mereological sums, mathematical sets ordered or unordered, aggregates, what-have-you, no whole is 'substantiatial' enough to unify the various mental properties that minded organisms exhibit.

It is also unclear how a mere collection could be the subject of experience.  The subject of experience is not merely the support and unifier of mental properties; it is also that which is aware (whether intentionally or non-intentionally) in virtue of the instantiation of the mental propertiers.  How could the subject of experience be a collection of objects?

So I remain in the dark as to what exactly property dualism could be if it is supposed to be a coherent  position.  What is it exactly that instantiates mental properties on this view?

Could Brains Have Mental Properties?

1. Many philosophers of mind who eschew substance dualism opt for a property dualism.   Allowing only one category of substances, material substances, they allow at least two categories of properties, mental and physical.  An example of a mental property is sensing red, or to put it adverbially, the property of sensing redly, or in a Chisholmian variant, being-appeared-to-redly.  Any sensory quale would serve as an example of a mental property.  Their irreducibility to physical properties is the reason for thinking of them as irreducibly mental properties.  This post, taking for granted this irreducibility, focuses on the question whether it is coherent to suppose that a mental property could be had by a physical substance.  Before proceeding, I will note that it is not just qualia, but also the phenomena of intentionality that supply us with putative mental properties.  Recalling as I am right now a particular dark and rainy night in Charlottesville, Virginia, I am in an intentional state.  So one can reasonably speak of my now instantiating an intentional mental property.

In sum, there are (instantiated) mental properties and there are (instantiated) physical properties, and the former are irreducible to the latter.

2. Now could a physical thing such as a (functioning) brain, or a part thereof, be the possessor of a mental property?  Finding this incoherent, I suggest that if there are instantiated mental properties, then there are irreducibly mental subjects.  Or perhaps you prefer the contrapositive:  If there are no irreducibly mental subjects, then there are no irreducibly mental properties.  But it all depends on what exactly we mean by mental and physical properties.

3. What is a physical property?  An example is the property of weighing 10 kg.  Although there are plenty of things that weigh 10 kg, the property of weighing 10 kg does not itself weigh 10 kg.  Physical properties are not themselves physical.   So in what sense are physical properties 'physical'? It seems we must say that physical properties are physical in virtue of being properties of physical items.  And what would the latter be?  Well, tables and chairs, and their parts, and their parts, all the way down to celluose molecules, and their atomic parts, and so on, together with the fields and forces pertaining to them, with chemistry and physics being the ultimate authorities as to what exactly counts as physical. 

So I'm not saying that a physical property is a property of a physical thing where a physical thing is a thing having physical properties.  That would be circular.  I am saying that a physical property is a property of a physical item where physical items are (i) obvious meso- and macro-particulars such as tables and turnips and planets, and (ii) the much less obvious micro-particulars that natural science tells us all these things are ultimately made of.  Taking a stab at a definition:

D1. P is a physical property =df P is such that, if it is instantiated, then it is instantiated by a physical item.

Admirably latitudinarian, this definition allows a property to be physical even if no actual item possesses it.  This is is as it should be.  

4. Now if a physical property is a property of physical items, then a mental property is a property of mental items.  After all, no mental property is itself a mind.  No mental property feels anything, or thinks about any thing or wants anything. Just as no physical property is a body, no mental property is a mind.  So, in parallel with (D1), we have

D2.  P is a mental property =df P is such that, if it is instantiated, then it is instantiated by a mental item.

(D2) implies that if there are  any instantiated mental properties, there there are irreducibly mental items, i.e., minds or mental subjects.  Now there are instantiated mental properties.  Therefore, there are irreducibly mental subjects.  For all I have shown, these subjects might be momentary entities, hence not substances in the full sense of the term, where this implies being a continuant.  The main point, however, is that what instantiates mental properties must be irreducibly mental and so cannot be physical.  Therefore, brains could not have mental properties.

This flies in the face of much current opinion.  So let's think about it some more.  If you countenance irreducibly mental properties being instantiated by brains, do you also countenance irreducibly physical properties being instantiated by nonphysical items such as minds or abstracta?  Do you consider it an open question whether some numbers have mass, density, velocity?  How fast, and in what direction, is that mathematical function moving?  If physical properties cannot be instantiated by nonphysical items, but mental properties can be instantited by nonmental items, then we are owed an explanation of this asymmetry.  It is difficult to see what that explanation could be.

Conclusion

5. My argument, then, is this:

a) If there are any instantiated mental properties, then there are irreducibly mental subjects.
b) There are some instantiated mental properties.
Therefore
c)  There are irreducibly mental subjects.

(a) rests on (D2).

The attempt to combine property dualism with substance monism is a failure.  If all substances are physical, then all properties of these substances are physical.  If, on the other hand, there are both mental and physical properties, then there must be both mental and physical subjects, if not substances.  A physical item can no more instantiate a mental property than a mental item can instantiate a physical property. 

Could Qualia Terms and Neuroscience Terms Have the Same Reference?

I made the point that the vocabularies of phenomenology and neuroscience are radically disparate, such that nonsense arises when one says things like, 'This burnt garlic smell is identical to a brain state of mine.'  To which a Viet Nam veteran, altering the example,  replied by e-mail:

. . . when a neuro-scientist says your smelling this odor as napalm is nothing but a complex neural event activating several regions of the brain…, he isn't claiming you can replace your talk about smells with talk about neural signals from the olfactory bulb. Different ways of talking have evolved for different purposes. But he is saying that beneath these different ways of talking & thinking there is just one underlying reality, namely, neural events in our brain.

 The idea, then, that is that are are different ways of referring to the same underlying reality.  And so if we deploy a simple distinction between sense and reference we can uphold the materialist/physicalist reduction of qualia to brain states.  Well, I have my doubts . . . .

I agree with Thomas Nagel, John Searle, and others that conscious experiences are irreducible to physical states. I have endorsed the idea that felt pain, phenomenal pain, pain as experienced or lived through (er-lebt), the pain that hurts, has a subjective mode of existence, a "first-person ontology" in Searle's phrase. If this is right, then phenomenally conscious states cannot be reduced to physical states with their objective mode of existence and third-person ontology. As a consequence, an exclusively third-person approach to mind is bound to leave something out. But there is an objection to irreducibility that needs to be considered, an objection that exploits Frege's distinction between sense and reference.

The basic idea is that linguistic and epistemic access to one and the same item can be had in different ways, and that duality of linguistic and/or epistemic access need not be taken to argue ontological duality in that to which one gains access. Reference to one and the same item can be routed through different senses or modes of presentation (Frege's Darstellungsweisen). Different terms, with different senses, can be used to target one and the same referent. 'Morning Star' and 'Evening Star,' though differing in sense, can be used to refer to the same celestial body, the planet Venus.  

Why not say something similar about the physical state I am in when I feel pain? Why not say that there are two ways of accessing the same physical state? The one mode of access is via neuroscience, the other is 'from the inside' via the pain's qualitative feel to the one who endures it. If so, there are not two states or events one physical and the other mental differing in mode of existence; there is exactly one state or event, and it is physical. Dualism is avoided. The upshot is that, contra Nagel, the third-person physicalistic approach to the mind does not leave anything out. One may go on to tax Nagel, Searle, and Co. with illicitly inferring a difference in mode of existence from a difference in mode of linguistic/epistemic access. Something like this objection is made by Christopher Peacocke in his review of Nagel's The View from Nowhere (Philosophical Review, January 1989.)

It's a nice try, a very nice try. And it is exactly what one would expect from someone who takes an objectifying third-person view. What's more, it would be in keeping with Occam's Razor if mind could be seamlessly integrated into nature. Unfortunately, the pain I am in is not a mode of presentation, or means of epistemic access, to the underlying brain state. Thus the Fregean analogy collapses. The sense of 'morning star' mediates my reference to Venus; but my pain quale, even if it is caused by the brain state, does not mediate my reference to it.

Let me see if I can make this clear. The suggestion is that the same physical reality appears, or can appear, in two different ways, a third-person way and a first-person way, and that this first-person way of access is no evidence of a first-person way of being. One problem is the one I just alluded to: there is no clear sense in which a pain quale is an appearance of a brain state. The former may be caused by the latter. But that is not to say that the pain quale is of the brain state. The felt pain does not present the brain state to me. It does not present anything (distinct from itself) to me. After all, the felt pain is a non-intentional state. No doubt it has a certain content, but not an intentional or representational content. One can describe it without describing what it is of, for the simple reason that there is nothing it is of. An intentional state, however, cannot be described without describing what it is of.

The Fregean sense/reference analogy therefore breaks down. The basic idea was that one and same reality can appear in different ways, and that the numerical difference of these ways is consistent with a unitary mode of existence of the reality. A felt pain, however, is not an appearance of a reality, but an appearance that is a reality. The appearing of a felt pain is its being, and its being is its appearing. And because this is so, the felt pain is a distinct reality from the brain state. Not only is it a distinct reality, it is a distinct reality with a distinct, irreducibly subjective, mode of existence.

Nagelus vindicatus est. There is something essentially incomplete about a third-person approach to reality. It leaves something out, and what it leaves out is precisely that which makes life worth living. For as Wilfrid Sellars once said to Daniel Dennett over a fine bottle of Chambertin, "But Dan, qualia are what make life worth living!" (Consciousness Explained, p. 383)

In vino veritas.

Malcolm on Mysterianism

No, not Norman Malcolm, our Malcolm:

Re: your recent post on Mysterianism, it seems that the central paragraph is this:

And so it is with the mysterian materialist. He bids me accept propositions that as far as I can tell are not propositions at all. A proposition is a sense, but the 'propositions' he bids me accept make no sense. For example, he wants me to accept that my present memories of Boston are all identical to states of my brain. That makes no sense. Memory states are intentional states: they have content. No physical state has content. So no intentional state could be a physical state. The very idea is unintelligible. Where there are no thoughts one can always mouth words. So one can mouth the words, 'Memories are in the head' or 'Thoughts are literally brain states.' But one cannot attach a noncontradictory thought to the words.

 
The hinge of it is the assertion "No physical state has content."

But isn't this itself the crux of the mysterian materialist's position? He will dispute your assertion, and reply that it appears that some very specific physical states (or perhaps more accurately, physical processes), namely those that arise in the uniquely complex material objects in our skulls, do in fact have content, and just how that is managed is what we do not yet understand. Your impossibility is his actuality, and so his mystery.

You are right that the mysterian materialist will maintain that some physical states do have content.  But he also maintains that we will never be able to understand how this is possible.  Thus your 'not yet understand' is not accurate. As Colin McGinn, head honcho of the mysterian materialists, puts it, "My thesis is that consciousness depends on an unknowable natural property of the brain." (The Mysterious Flame, p. 28,emphasis added)  Someone who holds that with the advance of neuroscience we will eventually solve the mind-body problem is not a mysterian.

The mysterian materialist position is that mental activity just is brain activity.  If that is actually so, then it is possibly so whether or not we can render intelligible to ourselves how it is so.  For McGinn, we will never render this intelligible because it is impossible to do so.  The mind-body problem is "perfectly genuine" (212) but has never been solved and is indeed insoluble because "our minds are not equipped to solve it, rather as the cat's mind is not up to discovering relativity theory or evolution by natural selection." (212)

You  are right: my impossibility is his actuality.  For him, the proposition that some physical states have content is true but a mystery.  So he asserts what he takes to be a well-defined and possibly true proposition — *Some physical states have content* — but also asserts that the question of how this proposition is possible will not ever, and cannot ever, be answered due to the limitations of our cognitive architecture.

My claim is that there is no well-defined proposition before us, or rather that there is no proposition before us that could be true.  There is the sentence 'Some physical states have content' but this sentence expresses no proposition  that could be true.  It's a little like 'Some color is a sound.'  That sentence does not express a proposition that could be true.  I don't believe you would credit the sort of  mysterian who maintains that it is true that some colors are sounds, and therefore possibly true, despite our inability to explain how it is true.  You would laugh out of the room the guy who said it was true but a mystery.  You would say, 'Get out of here, you are talking nonsense.'

How do we know it is nonsense?  We know this by thinking attentively about colors and sounds and by grasping that a color is not the sort of item that could be a sound.  Similalrly, we know it is nonsense to identify a memory of Boston with a brain state by thinking attentively of both and grasping that the one is not the sort of item that could be identical to the other.  (Because the one has content while the other doesn't so the two cannot be identical by the Indiscernibility of Identicals.)

Moving from content to qualia, I would say 'This smell of burnt garlic is identical to some brain state of mine' is on all fours with 'Quadruplicity drinks procrastination.'  It can't be so, and for a very deep reason: the very electro-chemical and other vocabulary (axons, dendrites, synapses, diffusion of sodium ions, voltage differentials, etc.) cannot be meaningfully combined with the vocabulary of phenomenology..  When you combine them you get nonsense.  The resulting propositions — if you want to call them that — cannot be true.

Isn't "No physical state has content", in this context at least, question-begging?

I don't believe I am simply begging the question.  It is more complicated than that.  It may help if I lay out both the mysterian and my argument.

Mysterian Argument

1. Mental activity is just brain activity. (Naturalist assumption)
2. We cannot understand how mental states could be identical to brain states.
Therefore
3. This inability to understand does not reflect an objective impossibility but an irremediable limitation in our cognitive architecture:  our minds are so structured that we will never be able to understand the mind-body link.

My Argument

2. We cannot understand how mental states could be identical to brain states.
~3. This inability reflects an objective impossibility.
Therefore
~1. Mental activity is not just brain activity.

The deep underlying issue here seems to be this:  Is our inability to understand how such-and-such is broadly-logically possible a sufficient reason for denying that such-and-such is objectively broadly-logically possible? To put it another way, the issue is whether there could be true mysteries, where a mystery is a proposition that by our best lights must appear either to be or to entail a broadly-logical contradiction.

This issue lies deeper than the naturalism issue.

The Mysterian Materialist Speaks

There are different sorts of materialism about the mind, among them eliminative materialism, identity-materialism, and functionalism.  There is also mysterian materialism. Here is a little speech by a mysterian materialist:

Look, we are just complex physical systems, and as such wholly understandable in natural-scientific terms, if not now in full, then in the future.  And yet we think and are conscious.  Therefore, we are wholly material beings who think and are conscious.  We  cannot understand how this is possible. But it is actual, hence possible, whether or not we understand or even can understand how it is possible.  It's a mystery, but true nonetheless.

What motivates this mysterian view?  There is first of all the deep conviction shared by many today that there is exactly one world, this physical world, that we are parts of it, that nothing in us is not part of it, and that it and us are wholly understandable in terms of the natural sciences.  This naturalist conviction implies that there is nothing special about us, that we are continuous with the rest of nature.  We are nothing special in that we have no higher origin or destiny.  We are mortal, like everything else that lives, and anything (conscience, consciousness, ability to reason, sensus divinitatis, etc.) that suggests otherwise is susceptible of a wholly naturalistic explanation.  Part of why people embrace the naturalist conviction is that it puts paid to central tenets of old-time religion: God, the soul, post-mortem rewards and punishments, the libertarian freedom of the will, man's being an image and likeness of God, etc.  So hostility to religion is certainly, for some, part of the psychological  (if not logical) motivation for the acceptance of the naturalist conviction.

Now take the naturalist conviction and conjoin it to the intellectually honest admission that we have no idea at all how it is so much as possible for a wholly material being to think and enjoy conscious states.  The conjunction of the Conviction and the Admission generates a mysterian position according to which one affirms as true a proposition that one cannot understand as possibly true, namely, the proposition that we are wholly material beings  susceptible of exhaustive natural-scientific explanation who nonetheless think, feel, love, make and feel subject to moral demands, etc.

This mysterianism is an epistemological position  according to which our very make-up makes it impossible for us ever to understand how it is possible for us to think and be conscious.  The claim is not that thought and consciousness are mysterious because they are non-natural phenomena; the claim is that they are wholly natural but not understandable by us.

Well, this mysterianism is certainly to be preferred to an eliminativism which argues from the unintellibility of a material thing's thinking to  the nonexistence of its thinking.  But eliminativism is a lunatic position best left to the exceedingly intelligent lunatics who dreamt it up.

The mysterian position cannot be so readily dismissed.  But surely there is something very strange about maintaining that there are true mysteries.  If a proposition either is or entails a broadly-logical contradiction, then I wouldn't know what I had before my mind if I had such a proposition before my mind.  And if I didn't know exactly which proposition I had before my mind, I wouldn't know exactly which proposition I was claiming was both true and mysterious.

Before I can take a position with respect to a proposition I must know what the hell that proposition is.

I count four positions or attitudes one can take toward a proposition: accept as true, reject as false, suspend judgment as to truth-value, practice epoché , ἐποχή.  Pithier still: Accept, Reject, Suspend, Withdraw.  The first three are self-explanatory.  By Withdraw I mean: take no position on whether or not there is even a proposition (ein Gedanke, a complete thought) before one's mind.  (The notion is derived via Benson Mates from Sextus Empiricus.)  Withdrawal goes farther than Suspension.  To suspend is to refuse to accept or reject a well-defined proposition while accepting that there is such a proposition before one's mind.  In the state of Withdrawal I take no position on whether or not there is a well-defined proposition before my mind.

Example.  A Trinitarian says, 'There is exactly one God in three divine persons.'  Studying the doctrine I come to the conclusion that I can attach no definite sense to it on the ground that it seems to me to entail one or more logical contradictions.   That is not a case of rejection or of suspension; it is a case of epoché.  I 'bracket' (to borrow a term now from Husserl) two questions: the question as to truth-value, and the more fundamental question as to whether or not there is even a proposition (a unified, coherent, sense-structure) before my mind as opposed to an incoherent, un-unified bunch of word-senses.

Suppose you say to me, "Snow is white and snow is not white."  Being the charitable fellow that I am known to be, I would not churlishly jump to impute to you the assertion of a contradiction.  I would take you to be using a contradictory form of words to express a non-contradictory proposition, perhaps, the proposition that snow is white where I didn't relieve myself, but not white where I did.  Or something like that.  The time-honored method of showing an apparent contradiction to be merely apparent is by making a distinction in respect of time, or respect, or word sense.

But if someone insists that he means literally that snow is white and snow is not white where there is no distinction in respect of time, respect, or sense of the word 'white,' then I wouldn't know what the content of the assertion was.  I wouldn't know which proposition my interlocutor was trying get across to me.  For if my interlocutor was otherwise rational,  the principle of charity would forbid me from imputing a contradiction to him.  I would have to practice withdrawal.

And so it is with the mysterian materialist.  He bids me accept propositions that as far as can tell are not propositions at all.  A proposition is a sense, but the 'propositions' he bids me accept  make no sense.  For example, he wants me to accept that my present memories of Boston are all identical to states of my brain.  That makes no sense.  Memory states are intentional states: they have content.  No physical state has content.  So no intentional state could be a physical state.  The very idea is unintelligible.  Where there are no thoughts one can always mouth words.  So one can mouth the words, 'Memories are in the head'  or 'Thoughts are literally brain states.'  But one cannot attach a noncontradictory thought to the words.

No doubt there is an illusion of sense.  There is nothing syntactically wrong with 'Thoughts are brain states' or 'Sensory qualia are physical features of the brain.'  And the individual words have meaning.  What's more, the words taken together seem to convey a coherent thought in the way in which 'Quadruplicity drinks procrastination' does not seem to convey a coherent thought.  But when the meaning is made explicit, the unintelligibility becomes manifest.

My thesis is that the mysterian thesis that these unintelligible claims are true but mysterious in that they cannot be understood by us to be so much as possibly true, is itself unintelligible.  For again, what is the identity of the proposition that I am supposed toaccept as both true and mysterious?

Mysterianism is the conjunction of the naturalist conviction  and the intellectually honest admission that no one has any idea of how to account for consciousness in natural-scientific terms.  Given that mysterianism is untenable for the reason I adduced, the reasonable thing to do is to jettison the naturalist conviction which, after all, is merely a conviction, a deep-seated belief that is just happening to to be getting a lot of play these days.

Here is a brief explanation of mysterianism with some references.