Tag: Self

  • Nosce Te Ipsum

    Nosce Te Ipsum

    Can we ever know ourselves? And what is there to know?

    I was led back to this old, old topic by a recent blog post from Ron Pavellas – “You don’t know me”. It is well worth reading. If we do not or can not know ourselves, how could we hope to truly know another?

    Perhaps Ron’s most telling lines are these:

    There are things I carry with me that no one has ever or will ever know about: guilts from having done wrong to a person or to my own sense of propriety and integrity; pains of embarrassment from having done foolish or thoughtless things, even if no one was aware; having been found ignorant of something generally known; having harbored evil thoughts, even if they were not acted upon.

    I hear you and I know that I feel likewise. I may not wish to spell these things out or to recount them in public but in private, and particularly in more recent years, I have come to recognize and to exorcise these feelings and acknowledgements. And to silently and privately regret and apologies for past thoughts and actions (or indeed inactions).

    So yes, I do think it is possible to know ourselves if we are honest and reflective enough. A fellow blogger writes under the banner Self Aware Patterns and regardless of what consciousness actually turns out to be, I feel this description applies rather well to me.

    I do seem to be a series of patterns. We do seem to be a series of patterns. Those patterns repeat and that seems to be what makes “me” or my personality.

    I am led to think of patterns of human behavior with greater force than usual thanks to my practice of tinkering with algorithms. As Ron himself said, my algorithms are my motorcycle as in “Zen and the Art of……” I am seeking patterns in stock market data which may indicate that a stock is about to behave in a certain fashion. Repeating patterns which indicate that another specific pattern is likely to follow. Wish me luck!

    My own repeating patterns will have become familiar to my bored readers (as well as to myself). I drone on about the same sort of stuff – I am habitually inclined to turn to music, mysticism, nature, silence and meditation. And to drone on about those subjects as an entry point to long sought after peace.

    I am aware that I also try and break out of these patterns from time to time in search of the new and the restorative. This in itself is also a “pattern” of my behavior.

    So yes, I believe we can know ourselves given enough thought and self awareness. And honesty. Owning up to one’s less attractive patterns as well as laying claim to some better ones.

    What is there to know? That is something I find rather more difficult to answer.

    Observing and acknowledging our patterns, our behavior is one thing. And a very valuable one if we seek change.

    But we are all (or most of us) also obsessed with the uneasy suspicion that there is more we need or want or should discover. It is difficult indeed to accept the scientists’ view that we are chemical scum, evolutionary accidents, pimples on the bum of this rocky little outcrop.

    And so again, it is to patterns we turn in seeking answers. Complex ideas or theories which appear to have some explanatory power. And we most of us tend to turn to those patterns which give us most comfort and accord to how we would like the universe to be. Rather than face a reality in which we are or may be a complete irrelevance.

    Self Aware Patterns continually seeks answers to the nature of consciousness and prefers a materialistic explanation. I do the same but inevitably end up preferring something less bleak – panpscychism for instance.

    I seek reason and purpose where none may exist. Or perhaps it does exist and the arid, sterile dogma of materialistic determinism may prove to be categorically wrong.

    In any event, my point rests. It is clear to me what sort of person I am. It is equally clear to me that there is far more that I feel a need to know. You can know yourself it seems, but knowing the nature of reality is a far greater challenge.

  • Why I doubt my Existence

    Why I doubt my Existence

    I believe that I am merely a “program” and that similar programs run every animal and living thing on earth.

    I have originated, like everything else, in a complex “program” not so very different conceptually from that on my computer which can evolve cellular automata: 

    “a set of units in a mathematical model which have simple rules governing their replication and destruction, used to model complex systems composed of simple units such as living things or parallel processors.”

    Buddhism has considered such deep philosophical questions for over two and a half millennia and science is beginning to lead us to the same conclusions as this ancient thought system.

    Put simply, to the Buddhists reality is an illusion and so is our sense of self. The concept is remarkably similar to Stephen Wolfram’s ideas. 

    The world and everything in it is mere deterministic cause and effect. An endless series of chemical reactions which has woven the fantastic complexity we see all around us from a few basic and simple rules. 

    The Buddha’s Anattalakkhana Sutta states: 

    “Every consciousness is to be seen as it actually is with right discernment as: ‘This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am.’”

    Researchers in consciousness such as Giulio Tononi are coming to the conclusion that consciousness is simply what you get when something, some object is sufficiently complex.  His Integrated Information Theory seeks to measure such complexity.

    So I may feel that I am “me”. I may feel I have a soul, some separate existence from you or that rock over there. But evidence seems to be mounting that the only difference between myself and that lump of rock is complexity – the way “my” particular atoms are arranged. 

    And you and I? Similarly arranged atoms of sufficient complexity to have attained the ability to witness the universe. Perhaps Carl Jung’s concept of universal consciousness has legs after all.

    My conviction was emphasized recently when “my”personality changed dramatically and most definitively following the ingestion of medicine.   I had been on too high a dose and began to feel  an abnormal, generalized and most unusual fear.  I was a different person, its that simple. My consciousness was different, my outlook, views  on life, attitude to everything and everybody were, simply put, different.

    And then I cut back on the dose and its frequency and this other “person” disappeared and was replaced by a more recognizable persona.

    So there is little in me which is permanent or unchanging. Chemicals can re-arrange my consciousness and replace person A with person B. Probably permanently, given enough persistence, by re-arranging the “code”, the DNA, whatever.

    Quite clearly my subjective experience counts for very little except in my own mind. But for what it is worth, I am ever more convinced that we humans are merely collections of matter arranged and re-arranged programatically. As a matter of “faith”,  my belief is that as science advances we will be able to rearrange our matter and our program to become whoever or whatever we want. 

    I will leave aside questions of determinism and free will. We don’t seem to be much further forward on that question than we were in the times of the ancient Greek philosophers.  One day at a time?

  • “I” do not exist

    “I” do not exist

    I have felt with increasing certainty recently that the Buddhists are right. We have no separate existence, no soul, no fixed place in the universe.  Richard Dawkins is my prophet of choice.

    We are mere replicators, a collection of raw matter on or in which certain instructions have been printed as to how we will replicate and hence cause our species to propagate into the future. Mere machines perhaps, little better than the algorithms which drive our computers, or which will drive general purpose artificial intelligence when it arrives.

    No one wrote those instructions; they just evolved over the ages from the interaction (the chemical interaction) of matter.

    That we are lumps of matter in no way different from that which makes up the rest of the universe is hardly in doubt.   We know that the chemical elements which constitute our bodies were put together in the center of stars.  Helium and nitrogen were the first and lightest.  The rest followed.

    Why then do we feel “separate” from the rest of the universe? Why do we feel different than a speck of dust, a doorknob or an ocean?

    It is our consciousness, our awareness. Our ability to witness the universe and what is happening in it.

    But what IS consciousness and is it in any way “special”? Perhaps consciousness is merely what it feels like to be a replicator, a machine made of chemical elements on which a set of algorithms runs.  We are information. Our memories are mere information, stored chemically in ways we still do not understand, in biological wetware.

    The algorithms in our body use the information contained in our memories to navigate the world for the purpose of replicating.  Memories enable us to make predictions based on existing data.  We need prediction to cross the road safely and to guess where our next meal is coming from.

    Part of our minds are totally autonomous of our waking or normal consciousness – a machine which runs the heart, generates blood, extracts energy from food, excretes waste. To spread the species. To replicate.

    We feel fear because our memories tell us some situation is threatening our existence in some way. We feel aggression because we live in a universe where we have to eat other to survive. We feel love because our algorithms need us to engage in sexual reproduction.

    All of this is programmed into our matter. A written set of instruction spread throughout our body.

    Who then is the observer? Who is it that is aware? It is not “I”, not “me” or “you”.

    Consciousness just “is”. It is what happens when an organism is sufficiently complex.  We are complex adaptive systems with feedback loops. “I” is simply what it feels like to be in the middle of this collection of complex adaption and movement. “I” is simply a construct which enables this mass of matter to recall memories (information) from the past and use it to predict the future. To predict for the sake of carrying on, to survive.

    So “I” am no different from a lake or a dog or an asteroid. I am just more complex, I have a few more moving parts. My software is lengthier and is better able to steer my future.

    What therefor of free will? What of imagination and creativity and art? They are by products of my instructions, the information which makes my body tick. The truth is we have absolutely no idea whether free will even makes sense in the context of an apparently deterministic universe. Leaving aside the many worlds interpretation of quantum weirdness, free will may be just another illusion. It may, once again, be what if feels like to be this set of matter running that set of instructions.

    Did the first life feel what it was like to be a Eukaryote? Did the first animals feel what it was like to eat, feed, fight, excrete?

    Perhaps not but as the complexity of their wiring increased, awareness of sorts dawned. Consciousness of sorts is probably wide spread in the universe. A worm probably “feels” “something”.  The sun perhaps; heat and light; the caress of water; the smell of raw earth,

    And so on up to humanity and beyond.

    Does it worry me that I have decided “I am not”? Not really, it is a relief.  I will continue to explore the nature of consciousness with relish, but I don’t think I can help my odd ways any more than a monster like Adolf Hitler could help his.

    At bottom, emotions of worry, guilt, contrition and remorse are pointless. We are what we are; we are “not”.

    It wasn’t me m’Lud….it was my programming.