Monday, February 26, 2018

Consciousness Considerations—Part 3

This is the third of a trilogy on consciousness. This one takes a little deeper look at how consciousness may have emerged, here on earth, and where it might be going. (First, I wish to recognize that some people would argue that consciousness never “first appeared” at all. They would suggest that consciousness may have been present from the very beginning of the Universe, and that it's really been a process of life progressing to a point that consciousness is recognized or is fully manifested in some creatures, like humans. It's similar to the concept of panpsychism in part 1 of the trilogy. But that's a topic for another blog.)

One of the understandings that neuroscientists have come to is that intelligence and consciousness are not so much a function of the number of neurons in a “brain”, but of the complexity of their connections—that is, the number of synapses and the intricacy of their attachments. A simile for a computer is that it may contain in its memory billions or trillions of bits of information, but if they all are in isolation from one another, of what use is it all? Or consider a book: in its totality, it has meaning, but only because all those words are connected together by sentences, paragraphs, chapters. Cut the book up into individual words—and dump them into a huge pile on the floor—and it has no meaning, no message.

Is it possible that there were aspects of some kind of “pre-conscious presence,” floating around the Universe, before any “fully-developed” consciousness could be detected here on Earth? That notion fits the concept of emergence: all the elements were there and at some point consciousness popped out... became manifest in some critter.

Consciousness, if it were to come about as an emergent phenomenon, probably did not suddenly “pop out”, but gradually emanated. Nonetheless, the degree of consciousness embodied in creatures was once very low and has slowly risen over time. The level of human consciousness today is certainly greater than anything that may have been present 100 million years ago. You could argue that Earth was simply not ready for something as complex as human consciousness, at the time of the dinosaurs.

This raises an obvious question: If this emergent-and-growing consciousness hypothesis is approximately true, where might consciousness on this planet be headed? (Note: I'm not even considering consciousness existing elsewhere in this blog entry. Limiting it to Earth—where we know it exists—is knotty enough.) Consider people who are spiritual adepts. They possess a consciousness level well beyond the average person. Some are even considered to be enlightened, to have insights well beyond us common folk. And what does enlightenment mean? Is it a destination? Is there an end point? Is God the end of the line? I'm afraid I've begun this blog with a list of currently unanswerable questions and concluded it with even more, and also tougher ones. Better stop.


Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Consciousness Considerations—Part 2 of a Trilogy

I find consciousness a fascinating topic. I've blogged about it here several times. One aspect of its allure for me—besides the fact that it is utterly basic to who we humans are and how we behave—is that even academic experts disagree on a definition. The field of consciousness research is very dynamic and broad. Our ability to probe into the workings of the brain by technologies, such as fMRI (functional magnetic resonance imaging) is rapidly expanding our knowledge base. Yet an agreed-upon definition or clarity of consciousness is still lacking among those authorities.

I think a core issue that is not often acknowledged in consciousness debates is that it's not so much whether or not some entity has consciousness, but what is its level of consciousness? It's not either/or; it's shades of gray. A bird is conscious, but certainly does not have the level of consciousness that most people do. Furthermore, we'll likely never penetrate the mind of a bird, in order to assess its level of consciousness. We have enough of a problem achieving this, human to human.

So how about a machine? Some artificial intelligence (AI) machines are becoming incredibly complex. Their software can be viewed as an aggregation of nodes interconnected by many pathways. That's very similar to our brain's nodes (neurons) and its pathways (axons, dendrites, and synapses). When will one of these AI machines possess enough nodes and interconnections to cross the threshold of consciousness? Would we even know? Could that type of consciousness be so alien that we'd not be able to recognize it?

Here's another way to look at it. Start with the human brain—something that we can confidently consider to be conscious. Cut it in half. Still conscious? Well, yes, some people's brains have been severed in half...they're still conscious. Keep cutting the brain in half. (Of course, this thought experiment assumes that the divided brain stays alive. So rather than cutting the brain apart, maybe imagine a critter whose brain has the same number of neurons as the repeatedly-cleaved human brain.) When do we reach a point when the brain fragment is no longer conscious? When the neurons are down from several hundred billion to a mere 100 million? A hundred thousand? 300? 75?

Or consider what happened on Earth, some time after life emerged. Were those first single-cell critters conscious? At what number of neurons and synapses did consciousness come into being? These are questions yet to be answered, if they ever can be. That's why I love science: just keep plugging away at the unknowns, and someday an answer will likely appear. Answers do exist—it's just that it's often very hard to locate them.

Completion of consciousness next time...



Sunday, February 18, 2018

Panpsychist Possibilities—Part 1 in a Consciousness Trilogy

Panpsychism is the belief that mind (“psyche”) is found everywhere (“pan”). Most primitive and/or indigenous cultures view/viewed their world this way. The dictionary definition of panpsychism is “the belief that everything material, however small, has an element of individual consciousness.”

Those cultures that see the world as panpsychic look upon the nonhuman world through respectful eyes. If spirit or consciousness exists in everything, they conclude that everything deserves respect. This is a dramatically different perspective from Western belief—which often sees mind only in humans, a notion we got from René Descartes. Even if some of us in the West grant some degree of consciousness to a few animals (like a dog), we tend to draw the line at simpler critters such as insects. So how is it possible for all material objects to be conscious? Is the Earth conscious (which is what the Gaia hypothesis suggests)? A tree? A rock? Modern Westerners mostly scoff at such ideas.

Part of the disagreement here is that there is a very wide-ranging view of what consciousness is. Many of those who dispute whether or not consciousness can exist in animals or plants are operating under different definitions of consciousness. Even within small camps of agreeing people, there's still contention.

So let's back up and consider the dictionary's definition of consciousness. There are three definitions given there: (1) “The state of being awake and aware of one's surroundings”; (2) “The awareness or perception of something by a person”; and (3) “The fact of awareness by the mind of itself and the world.” That's quite a range of meaning. Furthermore, those three definitions certainly lean toward anthropocentrism—viewing the issue strictly from human values. You'd have a tough time arguing that a tree is conscious, using those definitions.

Consider a specific non-human example: Is a bird aware of its surroundings? It has to be, in order to function. Is it aware of itself and the world? Yes, to some extent, just in order to survive. But how deeply can it perceive things? The answers to these questions are impossible to respond to, since we can't get inside the head of a bird. But I'm willing to give a definite degree of consciousness to a bird—not nearly as much as a human, but it's got to be there. 
 
So how about a worm? A nematode? An amoeba? A bacterium? An acorn? A rock? Does it make any sense to grant a rock a mind? Can it in any way be conscious? As an alternative way to view panpsychism for a rock, might one possibly conceive of the possibility that a rock exists within an ocean of greater consciousness, and thus somehow absorbs some of that consciousness?

These are questions that tend to defy answers—at least as far as human knowledge has currently grown. They are hotly debated. Panpsychism is certainly a concept worthy of open-minded consideration. Whether or not I am willing to grant consciousness to a chunk of granite, it sure is worth trying to extend my respect as far out there as I can. And that idea is neither primitive nor indigenous...in a way, it's pretty damned enlightened!

More on consciousness next time...



Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Bombardier Beetle

How does a bombardier beetle survive for up to two hours in the stomach of a toad, bathed in harsh tummy acid? No one really knows. How do scientists know that this beetle can survive for so long in a toad's tummy? They watched, as toads, with a lightning-fast flick of their tongue, instantly swallowed a beetle. Then, within a few minutes or even up to a couple of hours later, the toad barfed up the beetle—coated in stomach slime—which slowly crawled away. The dazed-looking toads showed no interest in trying to gulp the beetle a second time.

How does the bombardier beetle accomplish such a Jonah-in-the-whale's-stomach feat? It doesn't need God to order the toad to barf up the little beetle, as he did the whale to liberate Jonah. The bug mixes two chemicals in its butt—hydrogen peroxide and hydroquinone (a derivative of benzene). When these chemicals come in contact, they create an explosion of hot gas that blows out the beetle's butt. The nasty projectile either fends off predators or stuns prey. It's even able to swivel a nozzle on its tail end, to spray the hot fuel in different directions.

Hydrogen peroxide, besides being a sterilizer, can also be used as rocket fuel. It powered the German V1 rocket in WWII. There is no evidence to suggest that the Germans learned this trick from the bombardier beetle. It seems to have been their own brand of rocket science.

Beetles are likely the most prolific type of critter on Earth. They are found everywhere and eat most everything. They are a vital part of the ecosystem. As evidence of beetles' profusion, some 25% of all animal life forms are beetles, and they constitute about 40% of all insects. Entomologists don't even know how many species exist—maybe half a million, maybe several million. 

Beetles are a true insect, which means they have two pairs of wings, but their front pair is hardened into stiff wing cases. In order to fly, a beetle lifts those hard wings and then activates its delicate flying wings hidden underneath. It can't take off instantly, as a fly can, so it's rather vulnerable for a moment or two. That moment is plenty of time for the swift tongue of the toad to swoop out and scoop in the bug.

To set up their experiment, Japanese scientists at Kobe University went into the field and captured several species of toads and beetles. A toad and a beetle were then placed in a glass enclosure. Like Romans watching gladiators, the researchers observed, as the toad scarfed up the beetle and then settled down to digest its catch. Some time later, the bombardier beetle went into action—blending its toxic chemicals into miniature rocket fuel. The scientists could sometimes actually hear the explosion coming from inside the toad's belly, followed by a couple of heaves of the toad's tummy, followed by the ejection of the live beetle, which then slowly crawled away. Just another amazing discovery in the annals of science.

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Ice Storm


We had an ice storm a couple of days ago... beautiful but treacherous for walking. Click to enlarge.

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Covert Critters

We critters who live on the surface of planet Earth can become quite provincial about our kind—by being quite unaware of the many life forms that live underground. For example, people see other people as the most important critters on the planet. That's probably true for other surface species. We see each other, interact with each other, and conclude that's about all there is to it.

But there's a vast biosphere that is hidden from us, just below our feet. It might as well be covert. All of us surface critters live in an extremely thin layer on the surface of the planet. The atmosphere and the exposed land are like the thin skin of an apple—there's so much more below the skin. For example, subsurface fresh water—existing down to many miles—has a volume of about 100 times that of surface fresh water. Subsurface life has a mass of some 20 times all that lives in the ocean and makes up about one-third of all the planet's biomass. That's pretty impressive!

Never experiencing the sun, subsurface life cannot depend on photosynthesis, as must all surface life. Photosynthesis in plants enables them to manufacture sugars for themselves, as well as all other critters of the light, who eat plants or other plant-eating creatures. How do the covert critters survive without light and its resultant photosynthetic sugars? They feed on dissolved minerals in the water, as well as raw hydrogen. Thus they are reliant on biochemical reactions, which are much less efficient than photosynthesis. As a result, subsurface life exists in the slow lane. Underground microbes (and most life down there is in the form of microbes) may divide once every thousand years or so. Contrast that to surface E.coli, which divide every 20 minutes! This is a pace of life some 30 million times faster!

Moreover, underground life-forms are much tougher than their surface cousins. In 2003 the space shuttle Columbia broke up during reentry into the atmosphere. Aboard Columbia was a biological experiment on nematodes—very hardy, underground tiny worms. They survived the fiery explosion and they survived the 25 mile plunge to the ground where, a few weeks later—when they were subsequently located—they were reproducing!

Earth's subsurface life-forms are closer in character and metabolism to the earliest kinds of life on the planet, thus recent discoveries of these covert critters are helping scientists to understand how those deep ancestral creatures survived and thrived. Our expanding comprehension of the limits of metabolism of life on Earth is preparing us to better understand what kinds of life (if any) we'll find on Mars, or Jupiter's moon Europa, or Saturn's moon Enceladus—most all of which is likely to be subsurface, if it exists.
These findings make us wonder about what other kinds of critters we'll yet find on (or under) Earth. With each passing year we expand the limits of what we know to be life.

Saturday, February 3, 2018

The Promise of Imbolc


It is Imbolc--the time of year when plants buds begin to come awake and cows' milk begins to flow. I begin to impatiently await spring. It's just around the corner. Here are two photos of wild plum trees that I've transplanted from the forest into the clearing; buds at the bottom and blossoms at the top. I just wish I could include the heavenly smell. Click to enlarge

Thursday, February 1, 2018

Identity Urgency—Part 2

There's yet a very different kind of identity crisis going on today, in which the providers and exploiters of social media—Facebook, Google, Amazon, etc.—scoop up every tidbit that we send out on the internet, recording every click that we make. They then process that information with various algorithms, and create yet another identity for us; call it sort of an online identity. What's amazing is that those algorithms can accurately create an identity by which they then sell us things and even subtly manipulate us. After an astonishingly few keystrokes or “likes” the algorithms of these giant tech organizations know intimate things about us.
In fact, some algorithms have been shown to capture your personality more accurately than a close family member, after you've clicked on only a dozen or so “likes.” They then send you tailored ads and other tidbits—all designed to capture and hold your attention. They know what groups form your social network and they pass information to you that confirms your confidence that your groups are good and righteous. Thus you need not pay any attention to opposing groups. This is how bubbles and silos are formed. This is how social divisions and schisms grow and harden.
But Facebook, Amazon, and Google don't intend to cause strife. They're just trying to sell you stuff and thus amass the fortunes that they have. They've created the game and they've really benefited from it. Many people in fact appreciate the services these purveyors provide: the connections to gobs of “friends,” the delivery of just what you want to see on the screen in front of you, the ability to navigate through unfamiliar territory, the tailored news (or should I say “targeted” news?) that you're interested in, etc. It's all very easy and convenient.
But there's yet a darker side to these social media platforms. Those identities formed by the algorithms can be used to manipulate us in insidious ways. By showing us only what we are comfortable with, they literally capture us in a bubble. They sway our preferences—which is not necessarily devious when it involves purchasing new shoes, but can be devious when it influences how we vote. There are an increasing number of nefarious individuals and organizations whose online activities are intended to create havoc or steer public events in an unhealthy direction. Trolls roam the internet, attacking people. The Russians have become very proficient at hacking into private emails and websites, effectively damaging democratic processes.
And, finally, identities are sometimes stolen. These kinds of identities are not quite the entities I've defined at the beginning of this post; they are not social identities. They are more the official evidence we have to show authorities who we are, or to access our financial accounts. Once that type of identity is stolen, we have an extremely hard time taking back control of who we are.
So we are indeed experiencing an identity crisis today... on may fronts and in ways that couldn't have happened, even a few years ago. Who's in control? In the past, I could manage my identity pretty well, by deciding which groups I wished to belong to, and which norms and values of the group to internalize. Today the formation of our identity is more and more in the hands of powerful factions and their algorithms. Should we worry about this loss of control?