11 1 THE PROBLEM OF THINGS IN THEMSELVES §tasertatum bg DURANT DRAKE SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE FACULTY OF PHILOSOPHY, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY. THE PROBLEM OF THINGS IN THEMSELVES DtHsrrtattan by DURANT DRAKE SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE FACULTY OF the forming of the desire to pick up the opera glass, exists; when (e") exists, (E"), the will to pick up the glass, exists. The physical chain could apparently take care of itself. What are (E, E', E") doing there? How are they related to (e, e', e")? Why, it is all explained if we make the simple assumption that the e's are the E's. We don't know of two sets of realities there. Learning of the facts which exist then in two different ways, we call them by different names; but that does not imply that they are different facts. Another mystery which the assumption explains is that of the relation of the ' subjective' data to bodily events and to the world. If perception-data are the realities described by science as certain brain-events, then we may likewise assume that ideas, 28 wishes, resolves, dreams, etc., are the realities underlying other brain-events, those, namely, which are 'centrally,' not 'periphe- rally' excited. The evidence is ample that none of these data exist without definite brain-events 'correlated' with them. If these data are those brain-events in themselves, then the whole field of data is the whole brain-process in itself, and the relation of 'mind' and 'body' is explained. Still another important set of facts which the assumption explains is that relating to the causal efficacy of conscious states and brain motions. Physiology tells us that the cause of (f) is (e"), w T hich is caused by (e 7 ), which is caused by (e), which is caused by (d). But direct experience seems to show that (d) causes (E), that (E'), that (#), and that (f). The will to pick up the opera glass at least supposes itself to be the cause of the arm movement. On ouritheory both causal chains are real and not illusory. For it is only one chain of events. With fuller knowledge the e's can all be written E's. Finally, there is one significant fact that points directly to our assumption. Brain-events, being definite effects of outer things, vary concomitantly with them, and are thus, in some degree, representative of them. But the data of perception are also representative of things, as is shown by the fact that they reveal those things to us, serve to steer us about among them. When they are not representative of them they are illusions. This difference between true perception and illusion, an empirical difference, points to the truth that true perceptions are really representative of outer reality. We have thus two representa- tions of outer reality produced simultaneously. This points to their identity; and their identity explains the desperate problem of epistemology. How can conscious facts represent reality? Through being effects of it, produced, as the brain- events are seen to be produced, through the mechanism of per- ception. I hold then that just as it is legitimate to believe in the exist- ence of the universe, because that assumption explains the peculiarities of the data within a given field, so it is legitimate to believe that consciousness is the brain-in-itself, because that assumption explains the peculiarities of the empirical situation. 29 IV. The Nature of Things in Themselves We now have a theory which explains the relation of brain and consciousness; and with that as a tool we may attack the problem of the nature which things have in themselves. What means have we for solving that problem? In the first place, we have our perception-data. But the qualities which compose them exist, so far as we know, only at the brain-point in the world- order, separated spatially by the whole mechanism of percep- tion and temporally by the interval the causal process requires to traverse that mechanism from the things perceived. We cannot assume without further evidence that things have in themselves similar qualities. Our perception-data have un- doubtedly some formal correspondence with things, else they would not serve to steer us about among them successfully; they are, as we say, representative of them. But this repre- sentative function is compatible with a totally different quali- tative nature. Hence there is nothing in perception to indicate the qualitative nature that things have in themselves. A further consideration shows that it is impossible that more than a very few of our perception-data should be copies of the qualities of things themselves. For those perception-data which are perceptions of one and the same thing vary indefinitely themselves. The copy-theory of perception is conclusively dis- proved by a comparison of the qualitative differences of dif- ferent people's perceptions of the same object. Suppose a hun- dred people are looking at a tree, i.e., in exacter language, are having visible perception-data representative of the tree. No two sets of perception-data are exactly alike. Those who are near the tree have a bright-green-tree-datum, those farther away have a bluish-green-tree-datum, those who are color-blind have a drab-tree-datum. Those who are near have a large-tree- datum, those who are far have a small-tree-datum. Since no two heads are in the same place, no two see the tree from the same angle of vision; it is impossible that the datum which any one has, and which is for him the tree, can be precisely like that which any one else has. The differences may be extreme, as when a 30 man is miles away, and his tree-datum is but a tiny blur. Now of all these qualitatively different data only one datum can be a copy of the tree as it is in itself. Which one? Is there any more reason for supposing that the tree in itself is green — since through a mechanism which includes an optical retina of a certain sort it produced an effect which has the quality ' green ' — than for supposing that the tree in itself is drab — since through a mechan- ism which includes an optical retina of another sort it produces an effect which has the quality 'drab'? We say the latter retina is abnormal and distorts the real nature of the tree. But in truth all that the word 'abnormal' can mean is 'unusual/ or else 'unfitting us for dealing with the object.' The man who sees the tree drab, however, is as well fitted to deal with it as he who sees it green. The fact that fewer men have a drab-datum than have a green-datum proves nothing at all. And if we merely take one man's experience alone, the same tree in itself cannot be both bright green and bluish green. Which perception- datum is a 'copy' of the tree, the bright green or the bluish green datum? There is a phrase which seems to meet the situation. It is said, the tree has all these qualities at once. It is bright green in relation to & near-bj^ observer, bluish in relation to a far-off observer, drab in relation to a color-blind observer, etc. But what can this ingenious phrase mean on analysis? Either of two things. Either that the tree itself has all these contra- dictory qualities at the same time and place — which is a logical impossibility; or that it is of such a nature as to produce these different perception-data through the different media interven- ing, which is our contention. That the former possibility is not illogical is sometimes urged. It is pointed out that a man may be a father in relation to one man and a son in relation to another at the same time, a nephew to a third, etc. But these are but shorthand ways of referring to facts not existing as quali- ties in the man. We mean to say that the man was begotten, years ago, by this other man, is what he is today on account of that fact, among others. In his turn he has begotten a son. The facts are clearly denoted by the words 'father' and 'son'; there is no contradiction between the two sets of facts. And there is no contradiction in a tree's being green and drab at the 31 same time if we mean that it has produced and is of such a nature as to produce the green effect through one mechanism and the drab effect through another. Or we might mean that part of it is green and part of it is drab — the two qualities can easily coexist side by side. But this man's tree-datum is all green (leaving aside the gray trunk, etc.), that man's is all drab. Both cannot be accurate copies of the same original. You can picture a man, and label the picture A's father; you can picture the same man and call the picture B's son; you would have exactly similar pictures. Because 'father' and 'son' denote relations, not qualities. You cannot picture a drab tree and a green tree and have exactly similar pictures, because ' green ' and 'drab' are not relations but qualities. What our various perception-data which reveal the same thing have in common is not a group of qualities which copy the quali- ties of the original, but a certain formal correspondence with one another, a similar place in that universal order into which all our perception-data fit, and a similar function in directing our action. It is exactly such a formal knowledge, such a knowl- edge of the place of a thing in the whole order of things, and of the function it will fulfil in the general interplay of things, that science gives us. Scientific knowledge is but an extension of perception-knowledge, the difference being that our perception- knowledge is clothed with a qualitative nature, which science, in its ultimate analyses, strips from them, presenting in succinct formulae that part of our perceptions and their possible exten- sions which is really knowledge of the things — the formal part. Of course, as we think of the universe, we clothe it in our mind's eye with the qualities which our perception-data have. It is a natural and instinctive case of the pathetic fallacy. And in spite of our philosophic insight we shall go on thinking of the world in terms of our perceptions of it. It is necessary that we should. What matters to us, except in our moments of intel- lectual curiosity, is not the inner nature of things, but our own potential experiences. Whenever we experience the world, it is bound to be through the medium of our sense-organs; and the world for us will always be, in our practical life, a world with such qualities as our perception-data have. None the less real, if hidden forever from our gaze, is the fullness of life w T hich things 32 have in themselves, on the other side of our perception-mechan- ism. Our scientific knowledge then cannot reveal to us the qualities which things have in themselves, any more than our perceptions can. Science is but a fitting together of our perceptions and a revealing of their pattern, the order which they follow, which must be the order of the world of things, because we are able by our knowledge of it to predict with precision future changes in things. We must not be confused by the thought that science reduces everything to atoms in motion. Atoms (or whatever we call the ultimate units of matter) we picture to ourselves as hard little grayish bits of matter. The qualitative nature of things composed of constellations of such atoms is obviously very differ- ent from the qualitative nature of our perceptions of those same things; yet there seems to be a fairly definite qualitative nature there. But we are completely mistaken in picturing atoms as hard grayish bits of matter. The prime-atoms (which seem to be what are called 'electrons' nowadays) are not known to have any qualities whatsoever. They have mass, but that is their quantitative aspect; they have inertia, velocity, they attract, repel, etc., but these are all descriptions of their motions and the motions which they invoke in one another. In the electrons we seem to have reached the units of matter, because they seem to be identical in mass with one another. They are simply 'units of matter/ 'centers of force,' 'points of reaction,' etc. We know nothing of their qualitative nature. Indeed, a study of the causes which produce all our percep- tion-qualities seems to show that those qualities cannot exist in the things. Take light, i.e., brightness, for example. Light is to the physicist a certain aether-vibration proceeding from certain changes of motion in certain electrons which are flying about in material bodies. These electrons which produce light- waves are but a very few among the myriad units which make up a material body. The light, or brightness, which is a quality of our perception-data is the effect of those aether-vibrations, through the eye on the brain. Are we to suppose that the aether- pulses have the quality of brightness too? That the electrons whose sharp turns produce these pulses have the quality of brightness? Even if we were to make that supposition, far the 33 greater part of the mass of the body is left without the quality of brightness. So it is with the other qualities we ascribe to things. Heat in the things themselves is, so far as science tells us, but a more or less rapid motion of molecules — not at all that quality which we mean by 'heat.' So with hardness. Things themselves are not hard solid bodies, they are great voids, like the open sky, with exquisitely tiny units, very far apart from one another, flying about in them, and tiny lines of aether-vibration radiating between. Physically, hardness is the fact that other bodies do not readily push into and distort these constellations of units. What we feel as hardness, this quality that we get in our experi- ence when we push against certain bodies, is a fact that exists, so far as we know, only when our muscular sense has sent a nerve- wave to the brain. No doubt this physical knowledge of motions is incomplete knowledge, but there is nothing in this knowledge to indicate that we can legitimately fill it out by read- ing back into the things the effects produced when the influences radiated from them strike us. We must not forget that we are removed by a number of steps from things. The nature of the thing itself is described abstractly by science in terms of the motions of tiny units; the aether-vibration is something quite different; the optical dis- turbance quite another sort of fact; the nerve-wave still different, and the brain-event different from that. How could a copy of the thing itself be produced through such a set of changes ! Just as a picture is produced on a photographic plate through a partly similar set of changes? Exactly. But a picture is not a copy of what it pictures. Is a picture of you a copy of you? It does not even copy the softness of your flesh, or clothes, the weight your body has, its heat, or many another quality which an observer can perceive your body to have. Still less does it copy your real inner nature. Much as a photograph pictures a body do our perception-data picture things. If you print your picture on solio paper you get one kind of representation; if you print it on sepia paper you get another kind; if you use a small camera you get one kind, if a large, another; if you use a red glass lens one kind, if a green glass, another, etc. Your pictures will have in common only their formal correspondence with the body pictured. So it is with our perceptions. 34 But there is another important set of considerations. Close study of our sense-organs and brain makes it apparent that the qualities of our perception-data depend upon their nature, while their form depends to some extent on sense-organ facts, on aether-wave facts, on nerve-wave and brain facts. For example, I shake my eyes, and have a moving-tree-datum. I am sure however that the tree itself does not move. How could the shaking of my eyes make a tree itself move far away from me? Again, a straight stick partly in water looks bent to me. The aether-waves have been bent by the water — but I know the stick itself is straight. I can verify that belief by feeling of the stick. Again, if the nerve between my eye and brain is broken I see nothing at all. But I believe that things themselves still exist. We have to disentangle the causes that reside in the thing from the causes that reside in the mechanism of perception. And we see that all the qualities of our data, everything except a certain aspect, which we can disentangle, of their order, or pattern, depends upon the particular nature of that mechanism. Thus if our sense-organs were different we should have quite different data. The world for us would be very different, and we should picture it in our mind's eye very differently from the way we do picture it. If our eyes were made to respond to the waves that affect our heat-sense, and our heat-nerve-organs were made to respond to light-waves, we should have visual data when we now have the quality of hotness, and feel hot when we now see. The entire visible world would be but a series of variations in temperature to us, and we should see the differences in the heat of different parts of our body as a picture! Or, if the nerves from the fingers were to be spliced to the optical nerves, we should have color- and light-sensations when we feel of things; with closed eyes we should literally see a world through our fingers. But it would be a very different world from that we actually see; for the stimuli to the tactile organs are different from the stimuli to the optical organs. We might learn to get along in our new world as conveniently as we get along in our actual picture-world, both worlds being only pictures, in different materials and with different pigments, of the actual universe. In such another picture-world from ours do the animals live, no doubt. Who can imagine what the world is like to dogs, for 35 whom scent is the great sense? Yet they are as well guided for their purposes by their perception-data as we by ours. How foolish then to suppose that the particular set of perception- organs which we men, in this particular stage of our physical evolution, possess, happens to produce a set of perception-data which copy the real qualities of things! That they do not copy the qualities of things is finally proved by a comparison of brain-events with the outer physical events which cause them; there is no doubt a concomitant variation between them, but there is no close similarity. In so far, and only in so far, as there is similarity between the two events, as physi- cally described, can we infer a similarity in their reality. We have in all this erected no dualism of matter and mind. My mind is just — these data which exist together. Other minds are other similar sets of data existing at other points — namely, where, in physical terms, other brains exist. Matter is just — all those other realities which exist in the spaces between the 'minds.' There is no reason why we should not suppose all these realities homogeneous in substance — whatever meaning that phrase may have. Indeed, the teaching of evolution makes it plain that all these complex realities have evolved out of simpler stuff. Brains are made up of the same matter that makes up the rest of the universe. So, in the fuller language of direct experience, consciousness is made up of the same stuff that makes up the rest of the w T orld. Whether we call that stuff psychic or material is a mere matter of convenience. There is no legitimate antithesis between the two terms. We shall call reality psychic if we wish to indicate that it is homogeneous in nature with consciousness; we shall call it material if we wish to indicate that it is the reality which lies behind (so to speak) our perception-data, the reality that we point to and call matter, the reality which physical science calls matter. All our physical knowledge is true of it. More also is true of it, but that more we must learn indirectly. One great advantage of our theory thus is that it makes the origin and development of consciousness a natural event in evo- lution. Consciousness is not a new kind of existence, suddenly appearing on the scene, when matter has reached the degree of organization to which we give the name of brain. It is that brain, being naturally developed by the same laws which hold true of all 36 physical evolution. Everything is material, everything is mental, (or sub-mental, if we take 'mind' as equivalent to 'consciousness,' the reality symbolized by a brain), according to the terms in which we describe it. Our theory may, as Dr. Prince well says, be called panpsychism or panmaterialism, according to which aspect of the truth needs emphasis. Finally, then, if neither perception nor science can tell us how like or unlike the qualities of things are to our perception-data, what means have we of inferring these qualities? We have three possible means. The first would be to note the exact physical difference between a given brain-event, the preceding nerve-event, sense-organ event, etc., back to the physical event in the thing itself which caused it. We could thus discover in physical terms just how the brain-event distorts the event in the thing itself, what is the 'personal equation' which we must eliminate in our description of the thing. But physical knowledge is knowledge only of the order, the skeleton, of reality; how shall we fill in this skeleton with flesh and blood? Why, our consciousness is the flesh and blood of which a certain brain-process is the skeleton. And when we have eliminated the distortion-elements from the brain- process, if we eliminate their corresponding conscious-elements we shall have left the flesh and blood which corresponds to that aspect of the physical event in the brain which is sl copy of the event in the thing itself. There is no need, however, if we only wish to learn the nature of the things at the other end of the perception-mechanism, to take account of that mechanism at all. What we need to do is to compare the event ' out there ' with the event ' here ' as physically described, and then use the equation which Clifford suggested. As the physical nature of other things is to the physical nature of the brain, so is the full nature of other things to the full nature of the brain — i.e., to consciousness. In another form, Reality : its physical description : : consciousness : the physical description of the brain-process. Impracticable this method certainly is at present, with the meagre knowledge of brains and of other material events which we as yet possess. The best hope for immediate results seems to lie in reading the minds of other people through a comparison of their brain-events with ours; a reading of the minds of idiots and 37 children and a study of all pathological cases. Then we can gradually work down the scale through the higher animals to the lowest organisms, and so hope, in this step by step manner, to ap- proach an insight into the inner life, the qualitative nature (the two phrases are equivalent) of inorganic matter. The great recent increase of results in pathological and animal psychology, and the still more recent beginnings of 'plant psychology' point hopefully to future conquests. We must confess, however, that our whole theory must forever remain a metaphysical theory, a theory, that is, that is essentially unverifiable. By no possible hook or crook can we ever get into other things and have in our experience their inner life, their qualitative nature, and so check our inferences. But we are in exactly the same case in our reading of the minds of our dearest friends. And so we may hope that at some distant time man can read, with practical assurance, the qualities that make up the life of all things. V. The Peculiarities of Consciousness The theory I have now outlined consists of two steps, the iden- tification of consciousness with brain as it is in itself, and the attributing to the rest of reality a nature like that of conscious- ness in the degree in which as physically known it is like the brain as physical science describes it. These two inferences seem to me to be supported by much evidence and to give us the simplest theory that explains the main known facts of existence. But it is only the prelude to a knowledge of reality. The fruitful task for metaphysics would seem to consist in filling in the flesh and blood throughout the spread of our physical knowledge, giving us in conception a picture of what things are in themselves. To do this we shall have to push the foundations of physics further than they have yet been pushed, and to learn much more of brain phy- siology than we now know. When we shall have learned just what brain-event corresponds to what quality in our consciousness, we shall, by comparing the different types of events, be able to con- struct in imagination what qualities correspond to given motions in the outer world. At present we are very far from being able to carry out such a program; and anything further than what we have said must be highly hypothetical. But it may be worth 38 while to offer a few suggestions as to what the outcome of such investigation may be in its salient outlines. We know enough of the difference between brain-events and outer physical events to be able to make some guesses as to the difference between conscious- ness and the rest of reality. What we can safely say, however, is mostly negative; we can point out some general peculiarities of the brain-process and the peculiarities of consciousness that seem to correspond thereto, and we can say that these peculiarities must not be read into the nature of outer reality. The first thing to settle is, just what tract of physical events pictures consciousness. We have spoken of the 'brain-process' as that tract. But the most careful studies should be carried on to determine exactly what part of the physical events that go on within the skull, and whether any physical events beyond the confines of the skull, picture what goes on within the field of con- sciousness. As to the latter portion of this inquiry, there are not lacking those who hold that the field of consciousness includes all the realities pictured by all bodily events. The facts in that field corresponding to events outside the brain are held to be 'marginal' facts, a dim background to the more vivid and im- portant brain-event facts. The argument for this position is that the human body is an organic unit; it is more natural to sup- pose that the limits of the field of consciousness coincide with the limits of the body, which moves about independently among other things, than that it coincides with the limits of a particular portion of that body. The evidence, however, makes for the latter hypothesis. It is proved that if certain definite portions of the cortex are removed or diseased, certain definite phases of consciousness are lost or distorted. It is not shown that any bodily change, amputation, or injury, affects consciousness except indirectly, through the nerve-message to the brain. If the nerve that runs from eye to brain is severed, or if a certain small tract of the brain into which that nerve-cable runs is destroyed, all possibility of visual data in consciousness is lost, tho the eye itself be in perfect working order. Contrariwise, if the nerve that runs from eye to brain is stimulated by electricity, so that a disturbance-message is carried to the brain, the quality 'light' appears in consciousness even tho the eyes be totally blind or lost. After a man has lost a limb he still 39 not uncommonly seems to feel the limb. In such cases the nerve that used to bring messages from it to the brain is agitated and rouses the customary perception-data there. If the reality cor- responding to the body outside the brain exists within the field of consciousness it does not exist as the perception-data which make up the body in our consciousness, it can exist only as a dim unnoticed background. But it is also evident that not even all brain-events exist, in their reality, within the field of consciousness. There are the well-known cases of split personality, where two separate fields of consciousness exist side by side, and all stages of dissociation less marked. All the facts explained by the phrases 'unconscious cerebration' and 'the subconscious' must, on our theory, have a reality of the same general nature as that of our consciousness- elements; but they exist in isolation, without interplay of in- fluence, until some moment when a current rushes over from the isolated group into the main field. In such cases ideas jump into our minds out of the unknown. Much of the work of thinkers and poets seems to be done in this region outside the field of con- sciousness. Ideas ripen and mature there, and come to us in moments of relaxation; our energies not being then concentrated elsewhere, enough energy out of our always limited stock can be appropriated by the subconscious elements to enable them to flow over, as it were, into the main field. All the curious facts of trance, crystal-gazing, automatic writing, etc., etc., as well as such familiar facts as conversion, are easily explicable on this theory of isolated elements and groups of elements similar to those that make up the main field of consciousness. Hysteria is explained today by Freud and Janet by the conception of such isolated ideas and emotions, unknown to the main stream of con- sciousness, but having a disturbing effect upon the body and thus indirectly upon consciousness. These isolated ideas can often be tapped in the hypnotic state, or by merely directing the pa- tient's thoughts in the right direction ; when they are brought into relation with the main body of consciousness they become subject to the control of the will and lose their disturbing power. If space permitted, a long discursion into these half explored regions would do much to reinforce our general theory. But we can only pause here to say that it seems sure that those ele- 40 merits of reality that are bound together into the field or stream of consciousness are by no means all the elements of reality that correspond to the total sum of brain-events; much less do they include those elements of reality which correspond to bodily events outside of the brain. This organic unity which we call consciousness consists of such elements of our total brain-reality as get bound together by an interplay of causal influences, and therefore permit the recovery of one another's past, in the form of memories, from any point within the total field. Whatever elements have not got closely enough linked with this close- bound aggregate to be revivable in memory from within that aggregate play only a spasmodic part in the personality. Those events we cannot remember. But there is no sharp line. There are all degrees of separation and unity among the elements of the brain-reality. Two series of disparate activities may go on side by side, with little interplay of influence. We all keep our different kinds of experience and our different moods in more or less separate compartments. We all are taking in a thousand impressions daily which never get into the main complex, and have no effect on our practice. Dreams are a good illustration of activities that go on within our total brain-reality pretty com- pletely shut off from the main stream of our life, and not usually revivable in memory therefrom, even tho vivid enough at the time and attended by deep emotion. Consciousness is a common pool of elements, whereby action can be affected by all the memories recoverable therein as well as by the immediate perception-data that appear in it. It is a changing unity of elements, now shrinking, now extending, now losing some of its elements, now including some previously lost; by this gain and loss it gains and loses the potentialities of memo- ries. But it never includes anywhere near all the elements that correspond to the total sum of simultaneous brain-events. If motion is universal, as physics teaches, and every motion pictures a reality, all these simultaneous brain-events are actually 'psychic' events, i.e., have qualities; mostly, no doubt, of a vague 'background' nature, but sometimes sensational, some- times ideational, sometimes emotional. Some reflexes seem to be permanently split off from consciousness, unreachable by it, others may exist in separation for a while and later become fused. 41 The cerebellum- and spinal-ganglia-events may form little con- sciousnesses of their own. It seems likely at any rate that our main consciousness never includes all simultaneous brain-events, never spreads, so to speak, over even the whole cortex. This consciousness, this brain-process (to look upon it from the physical side) that functions as a unit, is the most intricate and complex mechanism of which we know. It is the very acme and highest development of the long process of evolution, which has consisted largely in an increasing complexification. Here are the greatest variety of motions and of changes of motions within a small compass of space and time to be found anywhere. The richness of human consciousness is presumably pictured by the complexity of these motions, and its variety by their ever- varying character. All non-brain-matter must represent a far less rich and varying existence. It can have no perception of other reality; for the brain alone, owing to its peculiar structure and its relation to sense-organs, allows of that peculiar reproduc- tion of the form of other realities. Every element of the world outside of those unified groups or fields of elements which we call a consciousness, or a unitary brain-process, must live in the dark, as it were, in a sort of revery, unconscious of the existence of any- thing else than itself. It can probably have nothing of what we call pleasure or pain; for, tho there is no agreement among psychologists as to their physical concomitants, they probably, like perception, arise only when the complex brain-situation arises. Like perception, they are apparently a part of the mechanism by which the brain-in-itself steers us and adjusts us to the world in which we live. Emotions are made up of sensa- tion-elements (= perception-data) plus pleasure and pain and incipient motor adjustments. Memory depends upon the structure of the brain, and may be called its plasticity. Thought, imagination, conscious will — all the important varieties of con- scious life — are clearly dependent upon the peculiar organization of brain- (or conscious-) elements. Intelligence is our name for that organization as a whole as related to the world to which it is its function to adjust us. None of these complex forms of life can exist where that organization does not exist, i.e., outside the brain. How then can we picture the life of the rest of reality? Well, 42 there must be a good deal of motion in the brain of similar type to motions outside the brain. If we exclude the complex processes which symbolize the faculties we have been naming, there must be underneath and between them a good deal of simple motion — revolutions of electrons about their atomic centers, heat-motions of molecules, etc. These have no memories, however, and are very likely, in their qualitative nature, but dim feelings which it would be difficult for us to catch and describe even if we could hold them in memory. It is probable that we shall never be able in this direct way to get at the simple elements within conscious- ness. If we could catch them in introspection we should not know which physical motions represented them. Our hope lies rather in comparing our vivid and complex types of conscious- ness, for which we can hope to discover the physical equivalents. The differences in these physical motion-complexes must repre- sent the aspects in which those conscious-complexes differ; and we might thus analyze out the quality which each component of a motion-complex represents. There is, of course, a good deal of physical activity in the brain even during dreamless sleep. There are absent, however, sensa- tion-processes and the formation of memories.* If sensations intrude, and awaken memories, or if memories are roused through some internal forces, dreams occur. As to dreamless sleep, what- ever be the quality of the brain-reality's life, there can be no mem- ory of it upon awaking, so we (i.e. the main consciousness-com- plex) can never know what its qualities are. If we dream, the dreams, having little relation to our waking life, are promptly forgotten unless gone over in memory after awaking, and so linked to the waking life. If this is not done, they will yet have left traces on the brain's plastic organization (for they were the sort of process that forms memories), and under suitable circum- stances they may be remembered, as in another dream, or even in some waking revery or by some unusual sensation ; they will then have for us a curious familiarity, yet seem unrelated to our waking life. This may be the explanation of the feeling that occasionally arises of having had an experience which we seem to remember, but know we cannot actually have had in this life. With the * I am indebted to Professor Strong for calling my attention sharply to this aspect of the difference in the situation. 43 proper beliefs at hand, a man may thus easily persuade himself that he has had a vision of the beyond. This digression may help to clarify our ideas about conscious- ness. Only certain complex brain-motions represent perceptions, ideas, etc. And only a certain organization and interplay of these motions represents a togetherness of these elements, a total consciousness. These elements are aggregated into consciousness in the degree into which they are interwoven and mutually arouse one another. On the physical side, what happens when a thought or visual sensation enters a sleeping brain? This at least seems apparent. The motions in the sleeping brain are simpler and more stable than in the excited brain. In the latter, 'currents' are aroused, i.e., motions much more complex than the atomic and sub-atomic motions that preexisted there. And these motion-complexes are very unstable, rapidly changing in form; whereas the atomic and sub-atomic motions are pretty uniform and stable. The difference between the non-existence of consciousness (during dreamless sleep) and its existence (upon awaking, or in dreams) would seem to be the difference between the simple, comparatively stable sub-atomic, atomic, and molecular motions, and the com- plex and rapidly changing nerve-current-motions; between com- paratively simple and changeless sentient life and complex, rapidly changing sentient life. The obstinate reader who is not yet converted to our theory will still be saying : But motions are motions of matter, and where does the matter come in on this theory? Now the concept 'matter' can mean but one of two things; either it means our perception- data (contrasted with our 'subjective,' non-representative, data); or else it means the reality that makes up the universe. That reality science studies, indirectly, through a study of our per- ceptions; but it can tell us only its order, not its substance. That substance is — well, call it, if you please, 'sentience'; that word connotes its homogeneit}^ with our consciousness. Then ' matter ' and 'sentience' are equivalent terms. So motions of matter are, in other words, changes in sentient life. It is interesting to note that scientists themselves, quite with- out thought of metaphysics, are rapidly discarding the concep- tion of what we may call the materiality of matter. They are 44 telling us that the ultimate units of matter are not themselves 'material.' They are calling them 'centers of force/ 'units of force,' etc. But, 'force' being nothing describable but motion and the potentiality of motion, this amounts to a blank confession of ignorance. What the stuff that makes up matter is, they simply cannot tell us. A few years ago physicists were trying to discover the sub- stance underlying matter, trying to work out a theory of matter- units as whirls of aether, which would then be the ultimate 'matter,' of which what we call 'matter' and what we call 'aether- waves' would be different types of motion, whirls and waves. But according to Professor N. R. Campbell of Cambridge, Eng- land, one of the acutest observers and critics of contemporary physical theory,* this whole type of thought "is, or will be within the next few years, as dead as the conception of caloric or phlogiston. Mechanical theories of electricity have gone very much out of fashion. . . . The tendency is much more now to at- tempt to produce an electrical theory of mechanics; that is, to take the fundamental electrical laws and theories [laws of the dis- tribution of energy, or motion] as the basis of science, and to deduce everything else, including mechanics, as special cases of them." That is, science is frankly confessing itself to be merely rela- tional knowledge, and giving up the conception of a substance, matter, which is undergoing these space-time changes. When science shall finally have analyzed all physical facts into their simplest component motions, or forces, its work will be done. Only through the indirect route of metaphysics can we arrive at a picture, which we may hope some day to fill out in detail, of what things really are, in substance, in themselves. * His Modern Electrical Theory, Cambridge, 1907, is still the best general survey and criti- cism of modern researches into the ultimate nature of electricity, light, heat, etc., and the ultimate constitution of matter. The quotation given is from a letter to the writer dated Jan. 26th, 1911. 45 VI. Individuation We cannot end our consideration of the nature of things in themselves, the reality which lies 'behind/ is revealed in, our per- ceptions, without noting the theory advanced by Romanes, Fechner, Paulsen, Heymans, and others, that the universe of things-in-themselves forms a single vast consciousness, a sort of over-soul, including our consciousnesses and all the rest of reality. Tho reached by a very different and more empirical route, the out- come is much the same as that of absolute idealism. It is, like that theory, a sort of pantheism, appealing to the imagination, and easily making alliance with religion. It has indeed, except by a blurring of outlines, no personal comfort to give, no hope to offer that things are better than they seem, or will be better than em- pirical evidence indicates that they will be. But it is an alluring conception in itself, and it readily soaks up the connotations that hover about the idea of God; undoubtedly it owes thereto its chief elements of tenacity. Apart from poetry and pious hope, the argument for the con- ception is the analogy of the general interplay of causal influences throughout the universe with that interplay of influence in the brain which represents an animal consciousness. As the brain is an organism, so may the earth be called an organism, and the solar system, the stellar system, and whatever more inclusive reality there may be. There is then a hierarchy of conscious fields, the smaller fields not being aware of the rest of the larger fields of which they are a part. It is easy for a poetic mind like Fechner's to make this conception seem very plausible. But the actual argument reduces to the analogy between the organic unity of the brain and that of the larger units. What it ignores, however, is the difference between the unity which the brain-process has and the unity which exists between the brain-process and the rest of the world. Why does our con- sciousness stand out in a sort of isolation from the rest of the world? Simply because the kind of unity that exists between all the elements of reality is not enough of a unity to weld those other elements into one consciousness with it. The organic 46 unity of the brain-process is a very much greater unity than exists between the world-elements in general. Moreover, it is not difficult to see that the effective unity of the brain-process is created largely by the formation of memories — without which there could be nothing like what we call con- sciousness. The earth, and the universe, have no mechanism of memory — except in these little corners that we call brains. They have no mechanism of perception, knowledge, emotion, thought, or will — that is, they have not the physical mechanism that represents, on our theory, what we experience, in their fullness of reality, as these conscious states. In what sense then could we call the sum total of world-events a consciousness? It would be very different indeed from what we do empirically call a consciousness. Nor would it be something 'higher' than con- sciousness. The physical events outside the brain are simpler and less delicately varying than those within the brain; if our theory is correct, the life out there must be a less developed, less complex, less delicately varying life. The universe is superior in size to the brain; but these little bits of the universe are her highest developed bits; the consciousness of animals, and finally that of man, is qualitatively superior to the life of the rest of the universe. At any rate, the assumption that the realities pictured by the physical motions that make up the physical earth, or the universe, are all joined together in one field of consciousness, as the ele- ments within a human consciousness are joined, is a flat contra- diction of the actual state of things. Whatever might be inferred to be the case, such is not the case. The observable situation is precisely that in which one field of consciousness is separate from other fields, and separated from them by other realities which do not enter into either. A vast consciousness might conceivably exist somewhere, but it would not be these realities; for the fact of separateness is as sure a fact for these realities as the fact of togetherness between the elements in a conscious- ness. If the togetherness isn't felt, it doesn't exist; for it is of a /e^-togetherness that we are speaking. If we don't fee.1 ourselves and other minds as one conscious whole, then we are not one conscious whole. Sensations and memories in my con- sciousness are not available for yours, except through the indirect 47 processes of expression and perception. We are doomed to be eternally separate, each shut up to his own data, or 'states.' The possibility of the belief in the larger consciousness rests on an incomplete analysis of the 'self.' The world-consciousness is thought of as a 'self or 'soul' or 'Being' that 'knows' or 'feels' the world-events, as 'you' and 'I' 'know' our conscious events. Thus our conscious events exist twice, as known by us, and as known or felt by the world-soul. Now we have not space to undertake an analysis of the 'self here. We may only say, rather dogmatically, that 'selves' and 'souls' and 'knowers' are vanishing with 'matter' and 'substance' and the other scholastic entities. The 'self is nothing but a given conscious- ness, the sum of its events, or a special set of its events. That there is any other 'self or 'ego' or 'soul' is without evidence, and is a belief fast dying out. Consciousness, as Professor Strong says, "exists in its own right." And if this is so, if our conscious- ness is not our perception of certain events, which the world- soul might also perceive, and perceive in a relation of together- ness w r ith other events; if our consciousness is those events, and is all there is to those events ; then any events existing in a world- consciousness would be other events; a reduplication of these, perhaps, with the relation of togetherness with other events thrown in, but not these events themselves. That there is such a reduplication is of course without shadow of evidence. A plausible support to Fechner's theory might be found in some of Dr. Morton Prince's experiments. I am not aware that any of the pantheistic panpsychists have adduced this sort of evidence, but if we are to be impartial we must admit that it seems at first sight to establish the reality of just the situation which we have thrown out of court as impossible — that wherein a larger inclusive consciousness contains in a relation of felt-to- getherness smaller consciousnesses which yet feel themselves to be separate. The experiments I mean are those in dual personality, wherein personality A seems to be aware of personality B's doings and feelings, while B remains always in ignorance of A's. A natural statement of the case would be that A is a larger person- ality, including B; that B is a smaller personality, without knowl- edge of that part of A beyond the boundaries of B; that these two personalities coexist. Now it seems to me that the first two of 48 these statements describe the facts as given, but that the third is an illegitimate inference. It would be (if not at bottom a self- contradictory statement) one possible explanation. Another would be in terms not of coexisting but of alternating personali- ties. When I talk with B, a certain part of the total field which we may call X has been cut off; the field has shrunk; the mem- ories lying within the X portion are not available. The cause will no doubt be presently learned, in physical terms; the result is that the potential memories and the habits stored in the B por- tion of the total field (or brain-process) interwork with one an- other, but without those other habits, memories, elements of char- acter, stored in the X portion. When I talk with A, however, the split has ceased. I have the whole field, with all the mem- ories available of both the B and the X portions. Such cases of contracting and enlarging personality are exceedingly common, and it is in such terms that we should explain, no doubt, many of our changes of mood and disposition. The peculiarity of the pathological cases is that in them the incoming and outgoing nerve-currents (or at least those through which the observer holds communication with the patient) after the shift of personal- ity, reach and come from another region of the brain. There has been a switch of the currents, and that makes the sense of a dual personality. The centers now directly communicated with have desires and feelings affiliated with them other than those over in the B portion, which are nevertheless within communication. In other words, two sets of memory images and associations have been developed; when one set is reached by the observer it is in communication with the other set but is the dominant set and never lets the other set get control; when the second set is com- municated with, the first set is shut off and ineffective. This hastily sketched explanation may not hold. It is given here simply as showing the possibility of other explanations of the multiple personality cases than that which would make in favor of the Fechnerian hypothesis. The direct evidence against that hypothesis, in the fact that we actually find ourselves sepa- rate — so far as the relation which constitutes a consciousness is concerned — and in the study of the nature of the brain-processes that represent a consciousness and failure to find similar processes and a similar organic unity elsewhere, seems conclusive. 49 Leibniz went to the other extreme, and called every 'monad' a soul. In terms of modern science, we might hold every electron or prime-atom a mind. But there is nothing to indicate that there is an arch-atom in our brains which carries the human con- sciousness in it. On the contrary, the empirical concomitance between different parts of the cortex and different elements of consciousness, and the striking parallelism between the laws of consciousness and the laws that hold between different elements of an extended brain-process, point to our identification of the human consciousness with such an extended and organically united brain-process. Since no such organic union exists outside the brain we cannot suppose that there exists anywhere else such an organic whole as a consciousness. The outer reality is prob- ably better described, in Clifford's language, as 'mind-dust,' or in Strong's, as 'infra-experiences.' Schopenhauer's description of it as 'will' seems rather arbitrary, even when we admit that we cannot mean what Ave usually call will, with its conceptual ac- companiments and prevision. Effort, striving, may form a con- siderable element in the life about us; but there seems no good reason for excluding qualities of other types. For all we know, the qualities of things may be such familiar ones as we should call color, heat, etc. Or all their qualities may be such as we have no names for. We cannot know at present. Tho not aggregated into consciousnesses, the realities that make up the universe exist together in another sense. They are together in what we call space, and succeed one another in what we call time. Not, we may hasten to add, in the space which is a quality of our visual data, or the time which is a quality of our present data. Time and space in this sense are qualities of our consciousness, data present in our fields, and not that order in which existences stand related to one another. Space and time in the latter sense never enter within experience. The order of existences is a fact about those existences, not a qualit3 r of them. The bit of space that we have as a perception-datum can be ana- lyzed into qualities existing in our field of data, or consciousness; it represents the real order in which those realities exist which our perception-data represent, but it is not that real order. It is of course exactly so with time; the sense of duration that we feel now is a quality of our experience, representative of a real succes- 50 sion of experiences, but not identical with the fact of that succes- sion. Things really exist in a definite order, which we may call the space-time order. Causal influences find their way about in certain definite ways only in this order; and what the quality of an existence is depends partly upon its place in that order. When we move we actually change our place in this order. Our theory does not do away with this order. Each real event takes place in its particular place in time and space, as physical science shows us. But the problem of individuation arises only in the case, it would seem, of animal brains. Here, owing to the peculiar mechanism developed, a set of memories becomes available from any part of a total process, and what we call a consciousness appears. It is to be hoped that Professor Strong, in the book on which he is now engaged, The Origin of Consciousness, will throw further light on these matters. VITA (In compliance with the requirements for Doctors' dissertations.) Durant Drake was born at Hartford, Connecticut, Dec. 18, 1878. He attended Harvard University 1896-1900 and 1901-3; Columbia University 1910-11. Previous degrees: A.B. Harvard 1900, A.M. Harvard 1904. iKE-A."/.. of congress ii mi 021 060 173 9 I