CHAPTER XII.
MENTAL EVOLUTION.
The phrase "mental evolution" clearly implies the existence of somewhat concerning which evolution can be predicated; and the adjective "mental" further implies that this somewhat is that which we term "mind." What is this mind which is said to be evolved? And out of what has it been evolved? Can we say that matter, when it reaches the complexity of the grey cortex of the brain, becomes at last self-conscious? May we say that mind is evolved from matter, and that when the dance of molecules reaches a certain intensity and intricacy consciousness is developed? I conceive not.
"If a material element," says Mr. A. R. Wallace,[JY] "or a combination of a thousand material elements in a molecule, are alike unconscious, it is impossible for us to believe that the mere addition of one, two, or a thousand other material elements to form a more complex molecule could in any way tend to produce a self-conscious existence. The things are radically distinct. To say that mind is a product or function of protoplasm, or of its molecular changes, is to use words to which we can attach no clear conception. You cannot have in the whole what does not exist in any of the parts; and those who argue thus should put forth a definite conception of matter, with clearly enunciated properties, and show that the necessary result of a certain complex arrangement of the elements or atoms of that matter will be the production of self-consciousness. There is no escape from this dilemma—either all matter is conscious, or consciousness is something distinct from matter; and in the latter case, its presence in material forms is a proof of the existence of conscious beings, outside of and independent of what we term 'matter.'"
There is a central core of truth in Mr. Wallace's argument which I hold to be beyond question, though I completely dissent from the conclusion which he draws from it. I do not believe that the existence of conscious beings, outside of and independent of what we term "matter," is a tenable scientific hypothesis. In which case, Mr. Wallace will reply, "You are driven on to the other horn of the dilemma, and must hold the preposterous view that all matter is conscious."
Now, I venture to think that the use here of the word "conscious" is prejudicial to the fair consideration of the view which I hold in common with many others of far greater insight than I can lay claim to. And it seems to me that we cannot fairly discuss this question without the introduction of terms which, from their novelty, are devoid of the inevitable implications associated with "mind" and "consciousness" and their correlative adjectives. Such terms, therefore, I venture to suggest, not with a view to their general acceptance, but to enable me to set forth, without arousing at the outset antagonistic prejudice, that hypothesis which alone, as it seems to me, meets the conditions of the case.
According to the hypothesis that is known as the monistic hypothesis, the so-called connection between the molecular changes in the brain and the concomitant states of consciousness is assumed to be identity. Professor Huxley suggested the term "neuroses" for the molecular changes in the brain, and "psychoses" for the concomitant states of consciousness. According to materialism, psychosis is a product of neurosis; but according to monism, neither is psychosis a product of neurosis, nor is neurosis a product of psychosis, but neurosis is psychosis. They are identical. What an external observer might perceive as a neurosis of my brain, I should at the same moment be feeling as a psychosis. The neurosis is the outer or objective aspect; the psychosis is the inner or subjective aspect.
It is almost impossible to illustrate this assumption by any physical analogies. Perhaps the best is that of a curved surface. The convex side is quite different from the concave side. But we cannot say that the concavity is produced by the convexity, or that the convexity is caused by the concavity. The convex and the concave are simply different aspects of the same curved surface. So, too, are molecular brain-changes (neuroses) and the concomitant states of consciousness (psychoses) simply different aspects of the same waves on the troubled sea of being. Again, we may liken the brain-changes to spoken or written words, and the states of consciousness to the meaning which underlies them. The spoken word is, from the physical point of view, a mere shudder of sound in the air; but it is also, from the conceptual point of view, a fragment of analytic thought.
Now, we believe that the particular kind of molecular motion which we call neurosis, or brain-action, has been evolved. Evolved from what? From other and simpler modes of molecular motion. Complex neuroses have been evolved from less complex neuroses; these from simple neuroses; these, again, from organic modes of motion which can no longer be called neuroses at all; and these, once more, from modes of motion which can no longer be called organic. And from what have psychoses, or states of consciousness, been evolved? Complex psychoses have been evolved from less complex psychoses; these from simple psychoses; these, again, from—what? We are stopped for want of words to express our meaning. We believe that psychoses have been evolved. Evolved from what? From other and simpler modes of—something which answers on the subjective side to motion. We can hardly say "of consciousness;" for consciousness answers to a particular mode of motion called neurosis. So that unless we are prepared to say that all modes of motion are neuroses, we can hardly say that all modes of that which answers on the subjective side to motion are conscious. I shall venture, therefore, to coin a word[JZ] to meet my present need.
It is generally admitted that physical phenomena, including those which we call physiological, can be explained (or are explicable) in terms of energy. It is also generally admitted that consciousness is something distinct from, nay, belonging to a wholly different phenomenal order from, energy. And it is further generally admitted that consciousness is nevertheless in some way closely, if not indissolubly, associated with special manifestations of energy in the nerve-centres of the brain. Now, we call manifestations of energy "kinetic" manifestations, and we use the term "kinesis" for physical manifestations of this order. Similarly, we may call concomitant manifestations of the mental or conscious order "metakinetic," and may use the term "metakinesis" for all manifestations belonging to this phenomenal order. According to the monistic hypothesis, every mode of kinesis has its concomitant mode of metakinesis, and when the kinetic manifestations assume the form of the molecular processes in the human brain, the metakinetic manifestations assume the form of human consciousness. I am, therefore, not prepared to accept the horn of Mr. Wallace's dilemma in the form in which he states it. All matter is not conscious, because consciousness is the metakinetic concomitant of a highly specialized order of kinesis. But every kinesis has an associated metakinesis; and parallel to the evolution of organic and neural kinesis there has been an evolution of metakinetic manifestations culminating in conscious thought.
Paraphrasing the words of Professor Max Müller,[KA] I say, "Like Descartes, like Spinoza, like Leibnitz, like Noiré, I require two orders of phenomena only, but I define them differently, namely, as kinesis and metakinesis. According to these two attributes of the noumenal, philosophy has to do with two streams of evolution—the subjective and the objective. Neither of them can be said to be prior.... The two streams of evolution run parallel, or, more correctly, the two are one stream, looked at from two opposite shores." And again,[KB] "Like Noiré, I would go hand-in-hand with Spinoza, and carry away with me this permanent truth, that metakinesis can never be the product of kinesis (materialism), nor kinesis the product of metakinesis (spiritualism), but that the two are inseparable, like two sides of one and the same substance."