Showing posts with label consciousness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label consciousness. Show all posts

Monday, 27 September 2010

When technology undermines science

On the day the iPad was launched, Apple sold over 300,000 of the tablet computers. Since then, over 3 million iPads have been sold. Our society is infatuated with technology, and this affects us in ways both obvious and subtle. Here I want to examine how our adoration of technology influences the way we think about science, and in turn how we see our whole world. I should note that I write this as a scientist, and someone with a long-time interest in, and fascination with technology.

Because the words science and technology are often paired, their meanings tend to be conflated. But science can be pursued with few technological spin-offs (as is the case with astrophysics, for example) and technology can be developed without the use of science (as was the case with the early technologies developed by trial and error in prehistory). Certainly scientific discoveries can often be used to develop new technologies, and existing technologies can be evaluated scientifically. But science itself is not about developing technology, it's about learning through systematic observation and (sometimes) experimental manipulation. Some would argue that this distinction is mere semantics, but I will argue that confusion between science and technology leads to some very unfortunate consequences.

Because we're so taken with technology, and because of the close connection between science and technology, it's not surprising that science is held in high esteem. But this is a double-edged sword. The downsides of technology (e.g. sedentary behaviour patterns and burgeoning rates of obesity, global warming from carbon emissions, toxic waste, etc.) are sometimes blamed on science. On the one hand, this is fitting: for better or worse, without science, modern technologies could never have been developed. On the other hand, surely it is our society's moral, economic, and political choices that determine how scientific knowledge is applied, and responsibility for those choices should fall to the decision makers. But our terminological confusion blurs such distinctions, and science and technology are routinely seen as one and the same. Praise or criticism of one is seen as identical to praise or criticism of the other. This has lead to a curious polarization of views.

The church of science

On the one hand, a triumphalism of science has become more and more common. Science is increasingly seen as providing the most trustworthy information, or perhaps the only reliable source of knowledge, not just about the physical world, but about all aspects of life.

I believe two factors underlie this tendency. First, the products of technological wizardry provide a concrete demonstration of the mastery and control that scientific knowledge can provide. The most important point here is the universality of this demonstration: no special knowledge or education is required to appreciate the power of technology. This technological factor rides on top of an epistemological claim. As Luke Muehlhauser puts it:
the massive success of science leads me to suspect that methods condoned [sic] by science are the most successful methods of knowing we have discovered yet.
And while it seems likely that a philosophical argument such as this will only appeal to a limited audience, it nevertheless provides the intellectual muscle beneath the alluring skin of technology.

Triumphalism about science has a long historical lineage, expressed in the first half of the 20th century in the school of logical positivism, and more recently in some of the writings of the so-called new atheists. In their extreme forms, such arguments tend towards scientism, the view that only scientific statements have any meaning and that, ultimately, science will provide all the answers. The trouble is, if science is seen as having all the answers, it must either expand to encompass a much broader range of concerns, or else dismiss such concerns as meaningless. Where does that leave ethics, philosophy, literature, history, art? While science can inform each of these fields, a radical redefinition of science would be required to assimilate them. And yet that is just what is being proposed.

Philosophy. Luke Muehlhauser argues: "I think philosophy will be most productive when it functions as an extension of successful science ... ". Commenting on such thinking, Massimo Pigliucci writes:
There are profound differences in method, style and type of problems between science and philosophy, and frankly I think that people who deny or minimize this simply have not taken their time to read any philosophy, or they would immediately see how bizarre it is to deny the difference.

More broadly, I am having a really hard time understanding the agenda of people here who wish at all costs to dismiss philosophy or absorb it into science. Why are you so bent on arrogating more epistemological power to science than it possesses? Why is it not good enough to say that science is by far the best approach we have devised to understand the natural world, but that there are problems that lie outside of it and other disciplines that are better equipped to address those problems?

Ethics. Sam Harris recently gave a TED talk titled “Science can answer moral questions”, in which he argues that "The separation between science and human values is an illusion". Massimo Pigliucci described the "malady that strikes Harris: scientism, the idea that science can do everything and provides us with all the answers that are worth having." Thinkmonkey, a commenter on Pigliucci's blog wrote:
Sam Harris has simply not done the hard work needed to understand the historical and ongoing arguments in ethical theory and metaethics - the context in which the argument he wishes to make *must* be situated. Perhaps these arguments have not settled very much, but they have at least established some shared terminology and made important distinctions: Without knowing the terminology and understanding the important distinctions (and the reasons for them), Harris cannot help but be confused - and to introduce still more confusion when he attempts to engage with his critics.

Philosophy may be where all the unanswered questions live, and may not get a lot of respect thereby, but at least we try to avoid these kinds of messes. Or, as Sydney Morgenbesser famously described our collective work: "You make a few distinctions. You clarify a few concepts. It’s a living."

The Humanities. The academic disciplines concerned with the human condition include history, literature, law, languages, art, and religious studies. Aspects of these and related fields may be studied using the methods of social science. But large parts of these disciplines use methods that are not scientific. Criticism of these disciplines is increasingly common. For example, the website of Edge: The Third Culture sneers:
The third culture consists of those scientists and other thinkers in the empirical world who, through their work and expository writing, are taking the place of the traditional intellectual in rendering visible the deeper meanings of our lives, redefining who and what we are.

... the traditional American intellectuals are, in a sense, increasingly reactionary, and quite often proudly (and perversely) ignorant of many of the truly significant intellectual accomplishments of our time. Their culture, which dismisses science, is often nonempirical. It uses its own jargon and washes its own laundry. It is chiefly characterized by comment on comments, the swelling spiral of commentary eventually reaching the point where the real world gets lost.

Mathematics. Interestingly, the claim that science provides the only reliable source of knowledge is easily refuted. Mathematics uses deduction to arrive at certain knowledge, something that science cannot achieve. One response to this is to claim that mathematics is part of science. Certainly mathematics is a key tool of science, but claiming that it is part of science goes too far. A different response is to point out that mathematical knowledge pertains to abstract entities, and thus in itself is not practical. This is indeed correct, but it highlights the key point that there are different kinds of knowledge, which cannot be seen as competing, because they belong to entirely different spheres.

Science is sometimes identified tout court with rationalism, and in a you're-either-with-us-or-against-us manoeuvre, everything else is simply deemed to be irrationalism. This is more a rhetorical trick than a line of reasoning, but once again we see the definition of science being expanded at will.

Science as fiction

At the other extreme, is an anti-science sentiment that manifests itself in support for pseudoscience, quackery, and superstition. From Deepak Chopra to crystals to the anti-vaccination movement, anti-science thinking is surprisingly prevalent. As I suggested previously, some of this is a reaction against the evident problems engendered by technology, coupled with a confusion between science and technology. But some of the anti-science thinking is a reaction to the kind of triumphalism of science that I have described.

What is to be done?

I've argued that fuzzy definitions have done real damage, fueling a grandiose vision of science and its flip side, a crude resurgence of superstition and anti-science thinking. The pairing of science and technology is here to stay, and the allure of technology will continue to promote an exaggerated conception of science. What can be done in the face of this tendency?

First, it remains important to distinguish between science and technology. The careless fusing of the two terms contributes to the unwarranted expansion of the notion of science. Second, it is important to challenge attempts to expand the purview of science to non-empirical matters such as ethics. This does no good to either science or ethics. While science can certainly inform ethics, the primary focus of ethics is normative, not predictive or explanatory. Science provides the best way to understand the physical world, but it is not a source of values or meaning. Third, pseudo-science, superstition, and quackery should be challenged by insisting on high-quality evidence. However it should be remembered that such delusions are nourished by out-sized claims about the universal dominion of science. Attempts to discredit new-age nonsense can backfire when metaphysical claims are denounced as being unscientific. Science can only address empirical claims. Non-empirical claims may certainly be challenged, but not by science.

Mind your own business

Many of the issues I have discussed are particularly vexing where the mind is concerned. Advances in neuroscience have encouraged a physicalist view that in its most extreme form argues that the mind is nothing more than the activity of neurons. This idea has an interesting connection with technology. Early computers were described as being "like a brain". As computers became more familiar, the simile was inverted, and the brain was seen as being "like a computer". More recently this process has reached its conclusion, and it is common to hear that the brain simply "is a computer".

Of course it's true that the brain computes, albeit in a way rather different from our digital computers. But somehow, along with the computation, we experience consciousness, a sense of self, the impression of free will. We experience sensation (rather than simply processing signals), we feel emotion, we delight in beauty and we abhor ugliness. Questions about these aspects of mind have occupied philosophers from the earliest times. Naturally, developments in the scientific understanding of the brain have had an important impact on philosophy of mind. But the fundamental questions remain.

Unfortunately, reductionist views about the mind are flourishing, nourished by both enthusiasm about developments in neuroscience and uncritical acceptance of the technological metaphor that "the brain is a computer". It is perhaps noteworthy that Sam Harris, who argues in his new book that Science Can Determine Human Values, has a PhD in neuroscience. In a New York Times review of Harris's book (with the telling title Science Knows Best), Kwame Anthony Appiah writes:
when he stays closest to neuroscience, he says much that is interesting and important ... Yet such science is best appreciated with a sense of what we can and cannot expect from it ...
Indeed we should approach all science this way.

Friday, 4 September 2009

Why philosophical zombies matter

I first wrote about the mysteries of consciousness on this blog back in February 2006. This prompted me to do some reading on the philosophy of mind, and in March 2006 I wrote more about consciousness.

Though I didn't mention it directly in that post, a very compelling argument concerns what are called philosophical zombies. I would put the argument like this. First, ask yourself: Is it conceivable that there could be a thing that appears to be human but in fact has no conscious experience? In other words, a biological machine, identical to a human in every way, except that it has no free will, feels nothing, experiences nothing. To put it bluntly, a zombie.

If your answer is no, then I would ask this: How can you know that some of the "humans" around you are not in fact zombies? Is there a device available that will measure consciousness? Granted we have tools that can measure aspects of the complex electrical and chemical activity in the brain. But complex electrical and chemical activity is not consciousness. Consciousness has to be experienced. And there's the rub. We can be sure of only one person's consciousness: our own. As Descartes famously noted, "I think therefore I am". Continuing to follow this line of reasoning can lead to solipsism, but that's not my point at all. Rather, I believe that the philosophical zombie argument provides one indication that there is more to the world than the material.

In response to this argument, people will sometimes steadfastly maintain that consciousness is nothing more than complex neurological activity. When I point out that there's no reason to believe that such activity has to be accompanied by consciousness, the response has sometimes been to deny consciousness itself! Which brings me back to the cartoon at the start of this post. Someone who denies their own consciousness could only be a zombie!

Thursday, 24 January 2008

The princess and the outlier

In my continuing effort to eff the ineffable (consciousness), I today stumbled on an article by Jaron Lanier with the intriguing title "Death: The skeleton key of consciousness studies?" It's written in an entertaining manner with little in the way of technical jargon. Lanier makes some interesting points, but what struck me was the following piece near the beginning:
There is a popular story about a princess who complains that she cannot sleep comfortably because of a single pea buried under layers of mattresses. That pea is consciousness in the sciences.

To consider consciousness by itself is entirely undemanding. It is a pea. There is nothing to describe. An attempt to account for it in context, however, forces the construction of ever shifting, elaborate adventures of thought.

What a temptation it is to dispose of this erratic data point. That is what any first year student of statistics would be taught to do.
Excuse me? I was enjoying the metaphor until that last bit!

At this point I'm tempted to launch into an extended discussion of statistical approaches to outliers. Or an outraged defense of statisticians against the notion that we teach first year students to casually discard data points that seem aberrant. But I think I'll put it on my to-blog list. That's one more pea under my matress!

Monday, 14 January 2008

Consciousness raising

Two years ago I started thinking about consciousness (my earlier posts are here and here), and ever since, what's in my mind has been on my mind.

First, some of what I've been reading lately. About a year ago, Time magazine published an article by cognitive psychologist Steven Pinker titled "The mystery of consciousness". Pinker refers to a distinction made by philosopher David Chalmers, between the Easy Problem of consciousness (what are the neural correlates of consciousness?) and the Hard Problem (why do is there such a thing as subjective conscious experience?). Chalmers' ideas are intriguing; see for example his Scientific American piece, "The puzzle of conscious experience". There's also a fascinating video interview with Chalmers.

Now, on to some of my thoughts ...

First person very singular

I know that I'm conscious (in fact for René Descartes, this was the one thing that could be known with certainty). But there's no way to know that any one else is. It is conceivable that they are just biological machines with no conscious experience. They behave just like a conscious person would, and thus would pass any Turing test. There's plenty of computing going on, but nobody's home. Or as philosophers rather melodramatically put it, they are zombies.

You may be reassured to know that I don't believe this. But on what grounds can I believe that other people are actually conscious? It's really an article of faith. Along with a body, and in particular a brain, I have an inner self, therefore I take it for granted that others who are made like me and act like me also have inner selves.

A brute to the brutes?

It seems clear that other humans are "made like me" and "act like me". But broadly speaking, so are other mammals. Are they conscious? Our friend monsieur Descartes considered this issue as well. In Mind: A Brief Introduction, John Searle writes that Descartes
... thought the crucial distinction between us and animals, that enables us to tell for sure that human beings have minds and animals do not, is that human beings have a language in which they express their thoughts and feelings, and animals have no language. Their lack of language he considered to be overwhelming evidence that they have no thoughts or feelings ... If we see a dog hit by a carriage and we hear the dog howling in apparent pain, it looks like we have to assume that the dog has feelings just as we do. But Descartes says all of that is an illusion. We should no more pity the dog than we pity the carriage when it is involved in a crash. The noise might make it look as if the carriage was suffering pain, but it is not; and likewise with dogs and all other animals.
But Descartes' views were not as blunt as this might suggest: see Peter Harrison's article Descartes on Animals. Along with a careful consideration of Descartes' thinking (which relates in part to the issue of sentience), there is this tidbit:
We are reliably informed, for example, that Descartes owned a little dog—Monsieur Grat—upon whom he lavished much affection, and who used to accompany him on his walks.
I believe—as I think most people today do—that dogs are indeed conscious. But then what about birds? Fish? Insects? Corals? Plankton? Protozoa? Perhaps consciousness is some kind of continuum. This line of thought seems to weaken the connection between consciousness and neurology, and it also seems to lead towards panpsychism.

Artificial irrelevance?


If animals may be conscious, then what about machines? I have long been skeptical of artificial intelligence, in part because of the outlandish hype. According to Peter Hankins on his fascinating blog Conscious Entities, one of the leading proponents of AI, Marvin Minsky, declared in 1977 "that the problem of creating artificial intelligence would be substantially solved within a generation." (oops.)

My guess is that there will continue to be gradual progress towards developing some of the capacities that have been identified with AI. But I suspect that even with a much more modest target (i.e. omitting consciousness), Minsky was wrong by several orders of magnitude.

Consciousness consciousness

I'd be very interested in feedback on some of these questions. I've felt for some time that consciousness is the great mystery. There are many unsolved problems in science, and some of the most fascinating ones are in neuroscience. But while neuroscience informs the study of consciousness, I believe that it can only identify the neural correlates of consciousness. Consciousness itself cannot be investigated scientifically.

Or can it?