We must now ask ourselves once more: Is there still a distinction, within what is immediate and intrinsic, between the occurrence of a visual datum and the cognition of it? Can we say, on the basis of immediate experience, not only “a visual black dot occurs”, but also “a visual black dot is cognised”? My feeling is that we cannot. When we say that it is cognised, we seem to me to mean that it is part of an experience, that is to say, that it can be remembered, or can modify our habits, or, generally, can have what are called “mnemic” effects. All this takes us beyond the immediate experience into the realm of its causal relations. I see no reason to think that there is any duality of subject and object in the occurrence itself, or that it can properly be described as a case of “knowledge”. It gives rise to knowledge, through memory, and through conscious or unconscious inferences to the common correlates of such data. But in itself it is not knowledge, and has no duality. The datum is a datum equally for physics and for psychology; it is a meeting point of the two. It is neither mental nor physical, just as a single name is neither in alphabetical order nor in order of precedence; but it is part of the raw material of both the mental and the physical worlds. This is the theory which is called “neutral monism”, and is the one that I believe to be true.
[CHAPTER XX]
CONSCIOUSNESS?
Twenty-three years have elapsed since William James startled the world with his article entitled “Does ‘consciousness’ exist?” In this article, reprinted in the volume called Essays in Radical Empiricism, he set out the view that “there is only one primal stuff or material in the world”, and that the word “consciousness” stands for a function, not an entity. He holds that there are “thoughts”, which perform the function of “knowing”, but that thoughts are not made of any different “stuff” from that of which material objects are made. He thus laid the foundations for what is called “neutral monism”, a view advocated by most American realists. This is the view advocated in the present volume. In this chapter, we have to ask ourselves whether there is anything that we can call “consciousness” in any sense involving a peculiar kind of stuff, or whether we can agree with William James that there is no “inner duplicity” in the stuff of the world as we know it, and that the separation of it into knowing and what is known does not represent a fundamental dualism.
There are two very different meanings attached to the word “consciousness” by those who use it. On the one hand, we are said to be “conscious of” something; in this sense, “consciousness” is a relation. On the other hand, “consciousness” may be regarded as a quality of mental occurrences, not consisting in their relation to other things. Let us take the first view first, since, in discussing it, we shall find reasons for rejecting the second view.
What is the relation we call being “conscious of” something? Take the difference between a person awake and a person asleep. The former reacts to all kinds of stimuli to which the latter does not react; we therefore say that the latter is not “conscious of” what is happening in his neighbourhood. But even if the sleeper does react in a fashion, for example, by turning away from the light, such a reaction does not fall within what is commonly regarded as “knowledge” or “awareness”; we should say that the sleeper turned over “unconsciously”. If he wakes up sufficiently to speak intelligently, for instance to address the disturber by name, we consider him “conscious”. So we do if we find that he remembers the incident next morning. But common sense does not regard any and every bodily movement in response to a stimulus as evidence of “consciousness”. There is no doubt, I think, that common sense regards certain kinds of response as evidence of some “mental” process caused by the stimulus, and regards the “consciousness” as residing in the inferred “mental” occurrence.
Sometimes, however, as in hypnotism and sleep-walking, people refuse to admit “consciousness” even where many of the usual marks of it are present. For this there are certain reasons. One of them is subsequent lack of memory; another is lack of intelligence in what is being done. If you offer a hypnotised patient a drink of ink, telling him it is port wine, and he drinks it up with every sign of enjoyment, you say that he is not “conscious”, because he does not react normally to the nasty taste. It would seem better, however, to say that he is conscious of the hypnotist and what he commands, though not of other things of which he would be conscious in a normal condition. And lack of subsequent memory is a very difficult criterion, since we normally forget many things that have happened to us, and the sleep-walker’s forgetting is only unusually complete. This is obviously a matter of degree. Take next morning’s memories in the case of a man who was drunk overnight. They become more and more vague as he reviews the later hours of the evening, but there is no sharp line where they cease abruptly. Thus, if memory is a test, consciousness must be a matter of degree. I think that here, again, common sense regards a certain amount of memory as necessary evidence to prove that there were “mental” processes at the time of the acts in question, acts in sleep being regarded as not involving “mind”, and other acts in certain abnormal conditions being supposed to resemble those of sleep in this respect.
It follows that, if we are to find out what is commonly meant by “consciousness”, we must ask ourselves what is meant by a “mental” occurrence. Not every mental occurrence, however, is in question. The only kinds concerned are those which seem to have relation to an “object”. A feeling of pleasant drowsiness would commonly count as “mental”, but does not involve “consciousness” of an “object”. It is this supposed peculiar relation to an “object” that we have to examine.
We may take, as the best example, an ordinary act of perception. I see, let us say, a table, and I am convinced that the table is outside me, whereas my seeing of it is a “mental” occurrence, which is inside me. In such a case I am “conscious” of the table—so at least common sense would say. And since I cannot see without seeing something, this relation to an “object” is of the very essence of seeing. The same essential relation to an “object”, it would be said, is characteristic of every kind of consciousness.
But when we begin to consider this view more closely, all sorts of difficulties arise. We have already seen that, on grounds derived from physics, the table itself, as a physical thing, cannot be regarded as the object of our perception, if the object is something essential to the existence of the perception. In suitable circumstances, we shall have the same perception although there is no table. In fact, there is no event outside the brain which must exist whenever we “see a table”. It seems preposterous to say that when we think we see a table we really see a motion in our own brain. Hence we are led to the conclusion that the “object” which is essential to the existence of an act of perception is just as “mental” as the perceiving. In fact, so this theory runs, the mental occurrence called “perceiving” is one which contains within itself the relation of perceiver and perceived, both sides of the relation being equally “mental”.
Now, however, there seems no longer any reason to suppose that there is any essentially relational character about what occurs in us when we perceive. The original reason for thinking so was the naively realistic view that we see the actual table. If what we see is as mental as our seeing, why distinguish between the two? The coloured pattern that we see is not really “out there”, as we had supposed; it is in our heads, if we are speaking of physical space. True, more than a coloured pattern occurs when we “see a table”. There are tactual expectations or images: there is probably belief in an external object; and afterwards there may be memory or other “mnemic” effects. All this may be taken as representing what the above theory took to be the “subject” side of an act of perception, while the coloured pattern is what the theory took to be the “object” side. But both sides are on a level as regards being “mental”. And the relation between the two sides is not of such a kind that the existence of the one logically demands the existence of the other; on the contrary, the relation between the two sides is causal, being dependent upon experience and the law of association.