What is self-awareness, anyhow?

Yeah, navel-gaz­ing. I’m read­ing more from Cov­ey’s Sev­en Habits and he describes this won­der­ful thing we have that ani­mals pre­sum­ably don’t, called self-aware­ness. He says that we are supe­ri­or and have domin­ion over the earth because of this abil­i­ty to observe our thoughts and feel­ings and under­stand our­selves as being sep­a­rate from these thoughts and feelings.

I think that’s impor­tant – believ­ing myself to be my thoughts is a trap I used to fall into. I like the way my priest described it: in med­i­ta­tion, all our organs con­tin­ue to func­tion: our stom­achs digest food, our hearts pump blood, and our brains pro­duce thoughts. My thoughts are vital to me, but they are not me, any more than my blood, food, or air are me.

So the ques­tion is: what is this self of which I’m sup­posed to be aware? I am aware of these aspects of me, my heart­beat, my thoughts, and so on, but I’m not real­ly sure what else there is oth­er than the assem­bled parts. We can’t real­ly be aware of our­selves any more than we can see our own eye­ball. If an ani­mal has sophis­ti­cat­ed cog­i­ta­tive facil­i­ties, I assume that it would be aware of its thoughts. So I’m not sure that it’s self-aware­ness that dis­tin­guish­es us.

I dun­no. On the oth­er hand, I am aware of my expe­ri­ence as I act and cog­i­tate. Maybe that’s all it means. Still, why assume that an ani­mal with less sophis­ti­cat­ed think­ing abil­i­ty would be any less aware of their own actions and experiences?

13 Replies to “What is self-awareness, anyhow?”

  1. I’m deeply, deeply
    I’m deeply, deeply sus­pi­cious of any phi­los­o­phy that pre­sumes an innate, unbridgable gulf of dif­fer­ence between “humans” and “ani­mals”. We came out of the same base mate­r­i­al and evo­lu­tion­ary process­es that cre­at­ed all the oth­er ani­mals. We’re ani­mals. Our dif­fer­ences are dif­fer­ences of degree rather than dif­fer­ences of kind.

    All mam­mals have neo­cor­tex­es, which seems to be the root of our abil­i­ty to remem­ber past expe­ri­ences, pre­dict the con­se­quence of future ones, and mod­u­late our behav­ior accord­ing­ly. I think that inter­sec­tion of mem­o­ry and imag­i­na­tion is where con­scious­ness comes from — we per­ceive a coher­ence to our exis­tence as we pass through time, rather than expe­ri­enc­ing an end­less, instinc­tu­al *now*.

    Our neo­cor­tex­es are much more com­pli­cat­ed than any oth­er mam­mal’s, so dogs for exam­ple are prob­a­bly much more lim­it­ed in their capac­i­ty for both mem­o­ry and imag­i­na­tion, but they clear­ly have some of both. They remem­ber and learn. They mod­u­late their behav­ior based on their pre­dic­tive abil­i­ties. I think dogs are at least as self-aware as a very small child.

    The best book I’ve ever read on the phe­nom­e­non of con­scious­ness is Jeff Hawkins’ “On Intel­li­gence,” which gives a great overview of the sci­ence of the brain.

  2. I think dogs are at least
    I think dogs are at least as self-aware as a very small child.

    By that do you mean: not at all?

    I don’t know that you’ve made a good case for dogs (or any oth­er non-human ani­mal) hav­ing an imag­i­na­tion. And even if you did, I don’t see how that implies any lev­el of self-awareness.

    I like the def­i­n­i­tion of “self-aware­ness” as “think­ing about think­ing.” I some­times spec­u­late on all the things going on inside my head that I am unaware of, such as mem­o­ry. Yeah, sure, my brain can some­how dredge up the details of a Bugs Bun­ny car­toon I haven’t seen in 20 years and present it to my con­scious thoughts, but how does it do that? I am unaware of the process until such time as the images appear in my head of a lit­tle-per­son bank rob­ber shav­ing in Bugs’ bath­room while Bugs peeks around the cor­ner, and says “Fen­ster? Smok­ing a cig­ar? And shaving?”

  3. I don’t know that you’ve
    I don’t know that you’ve made a good case for dogs (or any oth­er non-human ani­mal) hav­ing an imag­i­na­tion. And even if you did, I don’t see how that implies any lev­el of self-awareness.

    Per­ceiv­ing time, and per­ceiv­ing our expe­ri­ence cohe­sive­ly through time, is the basis of self aware­ness. Dogs demon­strate a pret­ty advanced abil­i­ty to remem­ber past con­se­quences of their actions, to pre­dict the con­se­quences of future actions, and to mod­u­late their behav­ior accord­ing­ly. This is what makes them so train­able. Pre­dict­ing future con­se­quences is also the essence of imagination.

    Dogs have the same basic brain struc­tures we do. There’s no sci­en­tif­ic rea­son to think that the basic mechan­ics of think­ing work dif­fer­ent­ly in our brains than in a dog’s. We do the same kind of thought pro­cess­ing, even though obvi­ous­ly we can do more of it.

    Yeah, sure, my brain can some­how dredge up the details of a Bugs Bun­ny car­toon I haven’t seen in 20 years and present it to my con­scious thoughts, but how does it do that?

    I’d sug­gest read­ing a book on the biol­o­gy of the brain. There are still a lot of unan­swered ques­tions in neu­ro­science, but we seem to be get­ting a pret­ty clear pic­ture of how the mechan­ics of mem­o­ry stor­age and recall work.

  4. “Think­ing about think­ing”
    “Think­ing about think­ing” does­n’t do it for me, because I don’t believe that my thoughts are myself any more than, say, my blood is myself or my foot is myself. It is a part of my self. Think­ing about think­ing does­n’t define self-aware­ness any more than think­ing about breath­ing or think­ing about grasp­ing an object with my hand.

    Now, OK, that means that I do have a con­cept of self to which I attach “hands”, “feet” and “think­ing”, but that real­ly does­n’t imply any holis­tic under­stand­ing of that self.

    I’m hap­py to accept a con­tin­u­um of self-aware­ness. Ants, for exam­ple, don’t have any inter­nal biofeed­back. If you pull off a leg, they do not notice any dif­fer­ence. A dog, how­ev­er, knows that her leg is a part of her. Or at least appears to if you start to pull on said leg. You can tell me that a dog does­n’t think about think­ing, but I’m not sure that means much, because I don’t believe that dogs have thought process­es as sophis­ti­cat­ed as ours. It’s an indi­ca­tion of less-sophis­ti­cat­ed thought, not an indi­ca­tion of less-sophis­ti­cat­ed self-awareness.

  5. Dogs have the same basic
    Dogs have the same basic brain struc­tures we do. There’s no sci­en­tif­ic rea­son to think that the basic mechan­ics of think­ing work dif­fer­ent­ly in our brains than in a dog’s. We do the same kind of thought pro­cess­ing, even though obvi­ous­ly we can do more of it.

    The bio-mechan­ics may be the same, but the results not. There could be some “crit­i­cal mass” of non-aware process­es that need to be achieved before self-aware­ness is pos­si­ble. Like Hof­s­tadter’s “Ant v. Ant Colony” anal­o­gy in Gödel, Esch­er, Bach.

    (I don’t real­ly have much knowl­edge in this area. I’m just kick­ing this stuff around because it’s slow at work.)

  6. Our dif­fer­ences of degree
    Our dif­fer­ences of degree are still dif­fer­ences, so I’m not sure that describ­ing those dif­fer­ences, or point­ing out char­ac­ter­is­tics that a human should have that oth­er ani­mals should not. It’s absurd to imag­ine a self-help book titled “You’re Human, So You CAN Walk On Two Legs”, but it’s only absurd, not sus­pect in my opinion.

    I’ll agree though that if that aspect of a phi­los­o­phy were real­ly a key com­po­nent, I’d have to con­sid­er it a fun­da­men­tal flaw of the phi­los­o­phy. To throw out Cov­ey’s “Sev­en Habits” because he claims that self-aware­ness is unique to humans when it’s pos­si­ble or even like­ly that oth­er crea­tures are self-aware would be like throw­ing out a book on walk­ing because I’ve seen bears and cats and dogs get up on their hind legs.

  7. Think­ing about think­ing
    Think­ing about think­ing does­n’t define self-aware­ness any more than think­ing about breath­ing or think­ing about grasp­ing an object with my hand.

    Think­ing about think­ing is an inher­ent­ly dif­fer­ent process than think­ing about breath­ing or think­ing about pick­ing up what­ev­er. Because it shows an aware­ness of the exis­tence of thought.

    Con­sid­er all the things you do with­out real­ly think­ing about them. Breath­ing, throw­ing a ball, typ­ing, etcetcetc. These are all a kind of “pass-through” process­es for your cen­tral ner­vous sys­tem. Even though you may be draw­ing on mem­o­ry or what­ev­er, it all hap­pens out­side of your thoughts. Kind of like a file serv­er. Yes, the proces­sor is involved, but in the end it’s just shuf­fling the bits back and forth.

    But think­ing about think­ing (meta-thought?) seems to be where the cen­ter of my sense of self is. I am cen­tered inside my thoughts and extend out from there, with a rapid­ly decreas­ing sense of “me.” To par­al­lel the com­put­er anal­o­gy about, think­ing about think­ing would be actu­al­ly crunch­ing num­bers. Not just mov­ing the bits from the hard dri­ve to the LAN, but per­form­ing oper­a­tions on them that gen­er­ate new data.

  8. Meta-thought is not the
    Meta-thought is not the cen­ter of self. Meta-thought is basi­cal­ly mas­tur­ba­tion, which is some­thing plen­ty of low­er ani­mals do. How is “huh, I’m think­ing” any more of a ground­break­ing real­iza­tion than “huh, I’m walking”?

    The com­put­er anal­o­gy is deeply flawed. Is a com­put­er that error-checks its process­es self-aware?

    You also seem to be bas­ing your entire premise on the idea that con­scious thought is the self. What if your brain is no more you than your com­put­er? Then it becomes a use­ful appendage to be val­ued like your hands, but not your iden­ti­ty. All you have to do is catch a ball thrown at you with­out con­scious­ly cal­cu­lat­ing the tra­jec­to­ry, speed, and air resis­tance to know that your con­scious thought process­es != your self.

    Again, how is think­ing about think­ing spe­cial in a way that think­ing about physics isn’t? In that it’s part of self-aware­ness how is it dif­fer­ent from think­ing about, say, play­ing basketball?

  9. I think that state­ments like
    I think that state­ments like Cov­ey’s are horseshit.

    It’s sim­i­lar to “intel­li­gent design,” which has been described as “draw­ing a tar­get around the arrow.”

    Sure, pick some­thing that humans do best, and/or we can’t yet prove that ani­mals can do, and declare that abil­i­ty to be proof that humans are superior.

    We’re always doing it. Decide that writ­ten lan­guage is what sep­a­rates the humans from the low­er forms of life, and hey, you can even exclude some actu­al HUMANS.

    I first noticed this almost 20 years ago, observ­ing (and, yes, par­tic­i­pat­ing) argu­ments about the “supe­ri­or­i­ty” of dif­fer­ent per­son­al com­put­ing plat­forms. PC clone fans claimed that the sys­tem that ran pro­duc­tiv­i­ty apps the best was “best.” Ami­ga fans believed that mul­ti­task­ing and graph­ics were the things that deter­mined the supe­ri­or­i­ty of a plat­form, pro­gram­mers laughed at any­thing but UNIX, graph­ic artists want­ed noth­ing to do with any­thing that did­n’t have a rain­bow Apple on it, etc. etc.

    And we all man­aged to get by with sys­tems that were sec­ond best at the oth­er things. The real zealots con­vinced them­selves that their sys­tems did EVERYTHING bet­ter than all the oth­ers (yeah, sure, bud­dy, there is a ver­sion of Pho­to­shop that will start on your Win­dows 3.0 sys­tem, and there’s a share­ware Word clone that the Ami­ga “com­mu­ni­ty” says is far supe­ri­or to the Microsoft version.…)

    Any­way, most of the “what sets humans apart from low­er life forms” argu­ments remind me of that.

    And con­verse­ly, the argu­ments for humans being inher­ent­ly more evil are horse­shit as well. Any­one who thinks that humans are the only ani­mals who kill for fun has nev­er lived with a yard cat. Any­one who believes that humans are the only ani­mals that go to war needs to read up on ants and primates.

  10. Yeah.
    House cats kill for

    Yeah.

    House cats kill for fun, too.

    So the only rea­son I’m backpedalling on this point at all is not to throw the baby out with the bath­wa­ter. I don’t think that Cov­ey’s asser­tion that cer­tain qual­i­ties are unique­ly human inval­i­dates the rest of the book.

    “Draw­ing a tar­get around the arrow” is the best descrip­tion I’ve ever heard for the anthrop­ic prin­ci­ple. Love it!

    In the end, Cov­ey is flat­ter­ing the read­er based on the (like­ly valid) assump­tion that the read­er is human. It’s sort of the reverse of the come­di­an I saw make a taste­less joke about the Amish. When the audi­ence booed him, he point­ed to the cam­eras tap­ing his per­for­mance and said, “what, like they’re gonna hear me say that on cable?”

  11. Gen­er­al­ly what annoys me are
    Gen­er­al­ly what annoys me are the analy­ses that start from what I think is a reli­gious dis­tinc­tion between human­i­ty and the rest of the ani­mal world, and then seek to sup­port that faith-based dis­tinc­tion by plac­ing undue impor­tance on our species-lev­el vari­a­tions. I’m not talk­ing about Cov­ey here because I haven’t read him, but cer­tain­ly your sum­ma­ry of his think­ing – “we are supe­ri­or and have domin­ion over the earth” – makes the warn­ing siren flash in my head. That’s Old Tes­ta­ment ter­mi­nol­o­gy, not science.

    We are much more intel­li­gent than any oth­er species, and that has made us remark­ably suc­cess­ful, but we are not the most suc­cess­ful species on the earth. We are nei­ther the most long-lived nor the most numer­ous of Earth­’s organ­isms. We’re not most adapt­able, and we’re cer­tain­ly not the one that con­tributes the most to the larg­er bios­phere. And the “domin­ion over the beasts” rhetoric seems to me, in prac­tice, to do lit­tle but jus­ti­fy cru­el­ty to ani­mals and fos­ter in us a destruc­tive (and illu­so­ry) sense of dis­so­ci­a­tion from the work­ings of nature.

    There’s obvi­ous­ly some­thing spe­cial about human con­scious­ness, I’m not deny­ing that. I’m just agree­ing with you that oth­er mam­mals like­ly do have some degree of self-aware­ness. And from a moral per­spec­tive, I think that we’d be a lot bet­ter off as a species if we stopped see­ing our­selves as divine­ly-anoint­ed rulers of the beasts, and instead were mind­ful of our kin­ship and sim­i­lar­ites with the oth­er ani­mals pop­u­lat­ing this planet.

  12. House cats kill for fun,
    House cats kill for fun, too.

    weird! I’ve been think­ing about “evil” a lot late­ly, and specif­i­cal­ly about how to rec­on­cile my beliefs that a) it is not evil for a house­cat to tor­ture a mouse, or for a tiger to tor­ture a human; b) it is evil for a human to tor­ture an anoth­er human or an ani­mal; and c) humans are ani­mals. I’ve been mulling over a post on the sub­ject; it’s an inter­est­ing syn­chronic­i­ty to see it on my friendslist!

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