Response to [Amsterdam Philosophy Group] meeting, June 16 2009

Consciousness, the enemy

"If this myth is tragic, that is because its hero is conscious,"

- Camus, Myth of Sisyphus

Camus considers Sisyphus as he is walking down after the stone has rolled to the bottom.
The "curve of the gulf" spread out before him, and he contemplates his wretched life. But is
he indeed wretched, or in a victory of the absurd, does he feel a “silent joy”?

Like much in the history of philosophy, these speculations may be stilled if we can overcome
our ignorance about how consciousness arises in a material mind.

Consciousness is a thin layer on the operations of a complex assembly of nerve cells.

According to a popular theory, it might be orchestrated 40 times a second by a gamma wave
from the thalamus that sweeps across and synchronizes or "focuses" different centers in the
cortex onto a single theme. As you read this sentence, the meaning of most of the phrases are
conveyed without any conscious processing. But if the import seems new or relevant, then
those neurons may win a slot on the next 40Hz wave, when parts of the cortex mapping
associated experiences will resonate together – e.g. Hume and the empricist argument, the
meetup this evening, the girl friend with whom you once discussed such topics... One among
this jumble of responses, or a perceptual interceptor like this phrase, may claim the next 40hz
wave, and your consciousness.

If the gamma wave is the source of conscious attention, it may explain why any injury to the
thalamus, the seat of the gamma wave, makes one go into profound coma.

But what does consciousness do? The one thing that consciousness is very good at is
stitching together a coherent reality. And that is very important for “happiness”.

Modern pscyhologists like Daniel Gilbert feel that happiness is a matter of being able to
construct a "myth" that we have control over things. Conjoined Siamese twins often live
happy lives, marrying separate women and fathering many children. To many of us, it seems
a horrible existence, where the will is impaired by a million compromises every moment.
Paraplegics are just as happy as lottery winners a year later.

The unexamined life: a Christian ethic?

But this illusory happiness, what is it worth? Camus opens the "Myth of Sisyphus":

"There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging
whether life is worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of
philosophy."
Many thinkers agree. Nozick thinks mere pleasure is "bovine contentment." Mill ridicules "a
satisfied pig", and would rather be a dissatisfied human.

But this perception of the "examined life" is far from universal; indeed, it may be a Christian,
Greco-roman ethic.

The Buddhist equates life with "duHkha" (loosely, suffering), and seeks the transcendental
experience of nirvana. The Bhakti Yogi seeks transcendental love, much the same as the
Sufi. In the Christian world, this finds its echo in Teresa of Avila and her divine union. The
Mahayana seeks to spread this transcendental experience as compassion. The Karma Yogi
finds liberation in his work, much like Sisyphus. The Tantrist does not distinguish different
forms of transcendent pleasure. Perhaps closest in spirit is the Jnana Yogi, who seeks
knowledge. And while he initially directs his gaze inward, that is only so that he can remove
considerations of his self, in his contemplations of the infinite.

Conscious examination in a subconscious universe

Perhaps our thinking minds find too much of a virtue in thinking.

Most of our mind is working on beneath the conscious. You lift up your glass and sip your
beer as you read this, without pausing for your "conscious mind" to tell the arm where to
move. Your gaze shifts from word to word, your mind interprets them, thoughts and
associations come unbidden. Only a minuscule fraction of our actions are conscious, and it
has to be that way or else our brains would seize up (that is indeed the cause of epileptic
seizure).

So when Sisyphus comes down does he contemplate the tragedy of his fate or does he rejoice
in "silent joy"? We will never have the subjective feeling of a pig (or a paraplegic or a
siamese twin or Sisyphus). As Camus suspects, it is probably the latter. In order that he may
continue to be happy, his consciousness constructs an illusion of control. Maybe he finds a
sense of accomplishment, an internal pleasure we can never be party to, in getting the stone
to the top every time. He hums a tune, and runs down in jaunty steps…

This is our biological self, and fighting it can only lead to misery. We are just a bundle of
carbon and hydrogen, designed so that our genes can propagate. Too much consciousness
can be our enemy.

Meanwhile, maybe we should just keep rolling our own stones (drinking our beer). Pausing
to look at our reflection on that veined surface may simply be a prescription to morbidity.

Amit Mukerjee

[Note: the older title of this note was: Life can't be examined because we live life
subconsciously]
Readings:

1. Daniel Gilbert, 2006, Stumbling on Happiness

2. Pollack, Robert; 1999, The Missing Moment: How the Unconscious Shapes Modern
Science