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Posts by ironmarlin1

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amberviper said:Dave,
don't be such a smart-aleck!
Just because quantum mechanics tries to squeeze its scientific models into a mathematical formalism doesn't mean that formalism is logically sound. It simply isn't. When you look at the whole issue of light duality, you're looking at a straight-up contradiction where the first logical axiom—the law of identity—is completely violated.

1) "Everything a concept does not encompass, it excludes." Or, put more simply: "Everything is identical to itself and distinct from everything else."

You could even apply two other axioms here, since the third is just an extension of the second, and the second is also being ignored here...

2) "Of two statements where one asserts the opposite of the other, one must be false."

The claim that "light is made of particles" and the assertion that "light is a wave" are two contradictory ideas because they're describing the exact same thing, yet their very essences are fundamentally different.

The standard interpretations of quantum mechanics work perfectly fine, and as far as anyone knows, they don't contain any contradictions—any physicist worth their salt would tell you the same thing. If you’re feeling skeptical, feel free to head over to the natural sciences subforum and try to point out a contradiction there. 🤷
So far, you haven't actually demonstrated any legal conflict within the laws of physics suggesting that a value can be both A and non-A. You've just been rambling about the scope of definitions, which is a rather obscure way to approach the problem.
James Lee77 said:I don't think you're seeing my point.
What I'm getting at is that anthropomorphism is always our starting assumption. We never actually approach anything with a completely blank slate. It's actually the opposite—we almost always start out with an anthropomorphic bias.
It's only once we have actual evidence—which happens a lot—that we drop that initial assumption.
But again, I'm saying it's only *after* we have a reason to change our minds.

From where I'm standing, it seems like you’re leaning heavily on some kind of teleological worldview to make sense of things. Perhaps that functions as your primary lens, but it certainly isn't mine, and frankly, I make a conscious effort to steer clear of it. If one follows your logic, one could argue even the > possesses intentions, simply because that would be the default assumption one would then have to work to disprove. But that just isn't how reality operates. I'm curious, though—what exactly is your metric for discarding anthropomorphism in those instances you claim are so numerous?🤷
And to circle back to my previous point: how do you account for rabbits, snakes, frogs, and the rest of the animal kingdom? While you might attempt to view them through this lens, doing so creates massive intellectual blind spots. You can try to draw parallels, sure, but those analogies tend to fall apart under the slightest bit of scrutiny.
mistyfox812 said:Think about it—you're a biologist discovering a totally new species, and you see it grazing on grass.
Your gut reaction is gonna be that they're herbivores.

But what gives you the right to assume that? Just because other things that eat grass are herbivores? Obviously, if it turns out they aren't, then the assumption is dead. But until I have proof otherwise, I'm sticking with what I know about similar species.
I'm not gonna say, "Bison are herbivores, but I can't assume anything about this new species until I gather mountains of evidence." I don't think anyone actually lives their life with that kind of extreme scientific rigor. It's the opposite! We're always making assumptions, and we only look for new ones when our old assumptions fail us.

So, like, if a fox caches food and comes back for it later, my assumption—until proven wrong—is that it's doing the exact same thing I do when I stash stuff away to grab later.

Right now, I just don't see any reason to doubt that the answer to "why does a fox store extra food" is simply "to eat it later."

Look, you’re certainly entitled to your anthropomorphisms, but let’s be honest: they aren't justified. I honestly struggle to understand how you account for the behavior of rabbits, snakes, frogs, and all those other animals that become utterly impossible to explain if you view them through your specific lens. Most researchers in those fields would find themselves fundamentally at odds with your premises. By that same flawed logic, you could look at a fish with vaguely human-like facial features and attribute a whole suite of human traits to it, which really just highlights a fascinating psychological quirk in humans rather than anything biological. If I had to label it, I'd call it feeding one's own prejudices and relying on poor intuition.
James Lee77 said:Okay, look, imagine you're an anthropologist visiting some remote tribe where you don't speak the language at all.
You watch them stash away food, and then you see them coming back for it later.
What would you honestly think?

Wouldn't you just assume, "Hey, they're saving this for later"? I mean, would you really be like, "I won't assume anything until I have hard evidence"?

Let me try to reframe your argument just a bit. Imagine you're a zoologist out in the Great Plains, coming across a herd of bison. Now, you already know from everything you've studied that bison are herbivores. So, what's your thought process? Are these specific bison also herbivores, or do we wait for more data? 🤷
Take, for instance, how we can't really assign intentionality to a rabbit. If you were to train a rabbit's left eye to fear a specific object by keeping its right eye closed, and then you simply reversed the process—closing the right eye while letting the left one see—the animal wouldn't suddenly harbor that same fear toward the object. It’s just not how it works. Because of that, you can't accurately describe its internal state with intentional language, like saying "the zec believes X is dangerous" or "the zec is afraid of X." There are quite a few similar instances throughout nature where such mental labeling fails us entirely.
James Lee77 said:I'm still lost, though. 🤷

Let's go back to that one example:

A guy eats some salad. He eats half, then puts the rest in the fridge. Later, he comes back and finishes it.

Based on that, we could maybe set up an experiment: watch a hundred single people putting food away in their refrigerators. The hypothesis is: most of them will come back later to eat it. Say the data actually proves the hypothesis is right.

The explanation would be: those people have this concept—maybe a super clear one, or maybe it's kind of fuzzy—that even though they aren't hungry right now, they're gonna need that food later.

If that logic holds up, why wouldn't the exact same thing apply to a fox? 🤷

Your explanation doesn't quite hold water for me. It doesn't necessarily follow that they held a conscious intention to use that food later; you really need actual evidence for that. To prove it, you have to demonstrate a consequence that stems from the claim that they believe they will need it later. With humans, proving this is trivial—you simply ask them why they put the food in the fridge. However, I don't see any evidence of such beliefs in foxes, nor can I see the behavioral consequences that would exist if such beliefs were actually present.

So, we are left with that framework I mentioned previously:

X is rational, and if X believes p, and p implies q, then X must also believe q because they are rational. This is something that requires empirical verification. That is how we determine whether we should adopt an intentional stance or opt for some other approach.
James Lee77 said:I'm not sure if I'm following you correctly (I probably missed something):
- we look at human behavior through two lenses (like, one mechanical lens and one conscious one)
- but for animals and computer programs, there's really just the one (the mechanical one).

Is the reason just because we can't actually sit down and have a conversation with an animal or a line of code? Like, since we can talk to other people, we can actually discuss their beliefs and wants, but we can't really do that with animals, right?

I wouldn't necessarily label that second lens as "conscious"; if I were being precise, I’d call it intentional. My point wasn't that animals or computer programs are devoid of anything else, but rather that the perspective you choose depends entirely on the explanatory power you need at that moment. I didn't mean to imply that verbal communication is the sole litmus test for complexity; it really comes down to finding empirical experiments that might demonstrate, for instance, that an animal acts under the assumption that another creature possesses its own set of beliefs—behaviors that are observable and, more importantly, verifiable.
James Lee77 said:Does that same logic apply to people?

It absolutely does. If you look at the history of psychology, behaviorism essentially hit a brick wall because it tried to explain the world without ever touching on mentalistic concepts—things like beliefs, desires, or intentions—and, frankly, it just couldn't make the math work.
James Lee77 said:A tennis player sprints toward a ball they can barely reach and catches a glimpse out of the corner of their eye that their opponent has rushed the net. The tennis player hits a lob and passes them.

Did the tennis player think, "Aha, there he is at the net, that leaves space behind him—I just need to lob it and the point is mine!" after seeing the opponent?

I don't think so. It feels more like something completely non-verbal—they saw the opponent, realized the opportunity, and acted on that opportunity.

A seagull flies over the ocean and spots a fish. It dives deep. (I would say "it dives deep to catch the fish"—but for some reasons I don't quite get, you and ironmarlin1 don't agree that it's okay to say the seagull dives with the intention of catching the fish it saw, or for the purpose of catching the fish it spotted.)

I don't see any difference between the tennis player making a split-second play and the seagull diving for prey. Sure, the difference comes in that the tennis player can reflect on the move later and look for different options—but the moment of decision itself seems the same to me: there's an insight into a possibility, and then a decision. As far as I can tell, that decision isn't verbal.

So, it seems totally fair to say a seagull has the intention to catch a fish, just like a tennis player has the intention to pass their opponent.

When we're talking about planning for the future, yeah, language clearly lets humans do way more than animals that can't talk.

But, going back to that earlier example:

When a fox buries extra food, it buries it

a) for later
b) just because
c) instinctively.

My answer is a), and I haven't seen anything in this thread yet to change my mind. From what I gather, ironmarlin1's answer is b), and yours is c), but I just don't see the distinction between human intentionality (since it's non-verbal) and animal instinct.

That isn't what I was getting at; rather, I was questioning whether such an explanation holds any actual weight. When we look at a chess engine, should we adopt a stance that it acts because of a specific change within its code, or because it possesses an intent to make a particular move? It really comes down to the empirical utility of adopting an intentional stance versus a stance based on the software's design.

I don't see much of a distinction between a tennis player executing a shot in the moment and a seagull making its move to hunt. Of course, the difference lies in the tennis player's ability to reflect on that shot later and weigh different options—but the moment of decision itself feels identical to me: there is a perception of possibility, followed by a choice. As far as I can tell, that decision doesn't need to be verbalized.

I’m not sure what a "verbal decision" would even look like, but that’s beside the point. What matters is which perspective offers the best predictive power regarding behavior. Is it the intentional stance, or something else entirely?

But, circling back to that earlier example:

When a fox buries surplus food, it does so

a) for future use,
b) just because,
c) purely by instinct.

My money is on A, and I haven't seen anything in this thread yet that would sway me from that. From what I gather, ironmarlin1 is leaning toward B, while your argument falls under C, but I’m struggling to grasp the line you're drawing between human intentionality—which is non-verbal, after all—and animal instinct.

The distinction lies in explanatory value. It's essentially the classic divide between behaviorism and cognitivism when trying to map out human conduct. The former has largely fallen out of favor. Honestly, I'm not sure how much sense it makes to debate whether something "actually" possesses intention; it really depends on how useful that explanation becomes in practice and prediction. Whether a fox "intends" to do something is contingent upon which framework you choose to apply. If I explain the fox's actions through its intentions rather than through the evolutionary mechanisms I use to predict its behavior every single time, then the latter approach is simply more accurate.

For instance, if X is rational and X believes P, then if P implies Q, X must believe Q because they are rational. This is something that requires empirical verification. That is precisely how we determine whether we ought to adopt an intentional stance or some other model.
What are your thoughts on this? http://cogprints.org/2475/1/JMB.PDF:

Some informal clinical observations really highlight the deep connection between our internal monologue and our sense of self-awareness. Moss (1972), a clinical psychologist who survived a stroke and worked his way back from aphasia, describes his own journey:

The second week [at the hospital] I ran into a colleague who happened to mention that it must be very frustrating for me to be aphasic since prior to that I had been so verbally facile. I later found myself why it was not. I think part of explanation was relatively simple. If I had lost the ability to converse with others, I had also lost the ability to engage in self talk. In other words, i did not have The ability to think about The futur - to worry, to anticipate or percive it - at least not with words. Thus for The First four or five Weeks after hospitalization i simply existed. So the fact that I could not use words even internally was, in fact, a safeguard.

Ojemann (1986) worked with patients dealing with cortical damage:

As recovery occurs, conscious experience returns as well. It seems to return in parallel with the phenomenon of inner speech. Inner speech may be limited, restricted, concrete, foggy, not normal after these kinds of lesions, but at least conscious experience has come back.

To me, this seems to support the idea that language is absolutely vital for consciousness and for our capacity to perceive the future. At least, that’s what the people who have experienced both states seem to suggest.
amberviper said:Take a concrete scientific example: light behaves as both a particle and a wave! How on earth is that logically conceivable?

The thing is, that isn't actually an example of a contradiction. ☕
The various interpretations of quantum mechanics don't contain any inherent logical contradictions themselves. Sure, if they were contradictory, we wouldn't be able to formalize them mathematically—but we can. You would have to demonstrate that within such a system, a judgment is simultaneously true (both A and not-A). And I find myself returning to the same question: without the principle of identity, how could you even begin to distinguish one concept from another, or more simply, claim that Kerber isn't a unicorn?
amberviper said:Alright, let's try this from a different angle!
How exactly do you define personality—the persona itself?
And how would you go about defining the unity of our consciousness?

Perhaps the most insightful take on this came from Hume:

"for my part , When i enter most intimately into What i call myself, I always stumble on some particular perception or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch myself at any time without a percepton, and never can observe anything but the perception.... If anyone, upon serious and unprejudiced reflection, thinks he has a different notion of himself, I must confess I can reason no longer with him. All I can allow him is, that he may be in the right as well as I, and that we are essentially different in this particular. He may, perhaps, perceive something simple and continued, which he calls himself; though I am certain there is no such principle in me."
amberviper said:You write as if consciousness were something entirely separate from the essence of our soul. Consciousness isn't merely a property of our physical body, because at its core, pure matter is just physics, devoid of spirit or soul.
What exactly does that imply? Well, look at it this way: if you truly believe this is just a "physical" trait—meaning the neurophysiology of the central nervous system—then logically, any system with even a rudimentary CNS should possess consciousness and self-awareness. But they don't. What kind of consciousness could a bacterium possibly harbor? Furthermore, by that logic, all physical structures would have to possess consciousness, much like our friend _Ljubo_ suggests in his rather unforgettable, repetitive mantras. And frankly, that isn't a serious scientific position.

No, that’s simply not how it works; contrary to what naive _Ljubo_ seems to think, not every physical structure needs to be infused with some magical substance called consciousness. It is much like health: being healthy doesn't require you to contain a specific "health substance" within you; rather, it requires a certain functional state of the organism. The exact same principle applies to consciousness.

Explaining consciousness through an algorithmic lens is inadequate, since that is precisely how computers and other types of hardware operate, and they clearly lack consciousness.

All you’ve managed to demonstrate here is that the mere existence of an algorithm isn't a sufficient condition for consciousness, but then again, nobody ever claimed it was. What a conscious machine actually requires is the intelligent application of memory for its own internal purposes, rather than for a user (which is how modern computers function). Intelligent memory usage implies that the machine must have its own inherent needs—something we can't say about your computer example. Additionally, a machine needs sensors and the ability to recognize relevant stimuli, and so on. Your examples are merely descriptions of ordinary tools. What you really ought to be attempting to prove is that a Turing machine cannot, in principle, simulate a brain, rather than pointing out that today's laptops aren't sentient.

I see no consistency in this claim whatsoever. The semantic world exists as a realm of abstraction and fantasy, not one governed by logic and rationality.
Why is that so difficult to grasp?

I have to ask you: is the judgment "Kerber = unicorn" true? Since you’ve asserted that the rules of identity don't apply in this semantic world, you can't actually claim the judgment is false. Consequently, you lose the ability to distinguish between any concepts within it at all.
And yes, a world stripped of logic and rationality isn't just difficult to comprehend—it is utterly impossible to understand. 🤷
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amberviper said:Perhaps you have a point there. But really, the whole idea is to pit two animals against one another in a test of pure problem-solving! Since the instinct to find food is such a primal, driving force, we essentially create these high-stakes scenarios where getting a meal becomes incredibly difficult, then toss them some objects to see if they can figure out how to use them as tools. The animal that manages to grasp the utility of a "tool"—and if you consider the human mind itself to be the ultimate tool, I'd include that in the equation—and applies it effectively to the situation, is demonstrating a objectively superior level of resourcefulness and intelligence. It’s quite straightforward from there. Honestly, crows, ravens, and parrots are frequently outshining primates in these studies; those aren't just my opinions, they are established scientific findings. You can even see it played out in documentaries. Go take a look on YouTube if you don't believe me!

I know, I actually caught that TED Talk on YouTube recently. But honestly? My gut feeling is that comparing them to chimpanzees is a bit like comparing apples to oranges. It just doesn't quite sit right with me. 🤷

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I’m not entirely certain exactly what we were targeting here—was it strictly the subjective experience of the color red? If that was the case, then I find myself circling back to the same old inquiry: why on earth do we even have this sensation of "redness" in the first place? It feels like such a strange phenomenon when you really sit with it, because, in any objective sense, that specific quality doesn't actually exist out there in the physical world.
We experience the sensation of red simply because our brains have learned to discriminate against that specific wavelength of stimulation. It’s the textbook explanation we all know by heart: a certain wavelength hits the lens, passes through the eye, and triggers the neural response.

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Let’s be clear about one thing: creations that lack consciousness simply don't exist. You can talk all you want about "automating" them or utilizing them as mere automated functions, but that doesn't change the fundamental reality—it has absolutely nothing to do with conscious creation. Unconscious creations? They are a total myth.
That’s just not right. There is absolutely no need to go around listing words that we toss around without having any clue about their actual definitions, their nuances, or how they relate to one another. I mean, surely the late Wittgenstein settled that whole approach to the conscious construction of words and meanings once and for all, didn't he? 🤷

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To deny the existence of Qualia is really nothing more than a symptom of a certain materialist-atheist worldview that’s been running rampant lately. If you look closely, non-physical experiences provide such glaring evidence that consciousness exists as something distinct from mere matter. It’s right there in front of us. Even things like telepathy suggest that the spirit directs matter, rather than being some mere byproduct of it.
Look, I wouldn't call it helplessness; there are plenty of atheist materialists out there who don't deny the existence of Qualia. After all, non-physical experiences are still experiences—they aren't some transparent, invisible entity floating around like that friendly little ghost, Casper. As for telepathy, there simply isn't any evidence to support it. That’s really just something you find being clung to by New Age cults.

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You simply cannot declare that two concepts belong to different categories just because they don't fit within the same analogy. Semantics demands a certain level of precision, ironmarlin1, so I truly hope that moving forward, you'll strive to provide more rigorous analogies to support your claims.
Hey there!
No, I wouldn't call those analogies, because we're really talking about things that fall into the exact same category. ☕
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amberviper Asks:
Oh, absolutely! That’s exactly what I was getting at. You see, Brentano defines intentionality by suggesting that mental phenomena exist within our consciousness as "objects." It’s like when you’re staring at an apple; you don't just see color and shape, you hold a distinct representation of that apple in your mind. Maybe it looks ripe, maybe it's bruised, or perhaps you're already deciding whether to take a bite or toss it in the trash. In that moment, the apple exists within your consciousness as an external object—it's a thing directed toward, rather than something felt from the inside like a random itch. And this is where Brentano’s argument really pushes into deep waters, because that specific type of objectivity simply isn't compatible with a purely visceral sensation like an itch. An itch doesn't have a "target" in the same way; it just *is*. But intentionality? That requires a directed conscious action, much like the way we aim our thoughts toward feelings of love, hatred, or any other complex emotion.
When you look at an apple, it isn't quite right to suggest that you possess some internal, mental snapshot of that apple within your consciousness; rather, you are simply perceiving the object itself. What you’re describing feels less like a model of consciousness and more like a description of how a television functions. Brentano wasn't actually addressing the raw, psychic sensation of being conscious, but was instead focusing on the characterization of intentionality. And if we follow that thread, it leads us directly toward characterizing intentional systems in terms that mirror human experience—describing them through intentional lenses such as "X wants Y," "X desires Y," or "X believes Y."
You talk about an itch as if it were some sort of binary switch—something that either exists within the Cartesian theater of consciousness or it simply doesn't. But the reality is far more messy than that. Sensations like an itch, or pain, or any similar physical feeling, are deeply contingent upon a vast web of interpretations and contexts; they aren't just isolated data points that you can neatly extract and isolate within your little theater of pure consciousness.

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If I’ve managed to grasp the core of your argument correctly, then these types of systems simply cannot be reduced to, or even equated with, these so-called non-existent "physical conscious-unconscious states." It’s quite straightforward, really: once you strip away the subjective experience from a system, you aren't left with consciousness anymore—it's gone. Take a simple earthworm, for instance. It doesn't possess Qualia, and therefore, it isn't conscious. If you were to go a step further and strip away its instinctual drives as well, you wouldn't even have a living creature left; you'd just be staring at a pile of inert matter, nothing more than ordinary mass.
This is exactly where things fall apart when you cling to the existence of Qualia. Consider the implications: if you subscribe to this view, you’re essentially conceding that it’s entirely possible for someone to possess the exact same physical architecture as we do—acting, talking, and reacting just like any other person—yet completely lack Qualia. They would perceive the color red, certainly, but they wouldn't experience that internal, subjective "redness" that we all know. They’d react to seeing red in precisely the same way you or I would, yet the inner light simply isn't turned on. From there, the conclusion becomes inescapable: Qualia don't actually influence our behavior at all, because, as this philosophical zombie demonstrates, a purely physical explanation accounts for everything we do. In that scenario, Qualia are relegated to being mere epiphenomena—nothing more than a ghostly byproduct. But then, you immediately trip over your own logic and fall into a contradiction. If that very zombie starts talking about epiphenomena, he is providing living proof that they *do* influence his behavior, which directly clashes with the initial premise that they don't exist and therefore have no impact. It's a circular trap. Ultimately, it seems physicalism holds the ground; subjective experience can be fully explained through the classical frameworks of physics, behavior, and intentionality.

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That is precisely my point! Your "unicorn" doesn't exist in any physical sense, yet it possesses a distinct existence within your semantic landscape—and because of that, it effectively bypasses the standard logical axioms we rely on, like identity, contradiction, or the law of excluded middle. It’s a phantom of abstraction and fantasy rather than an intentional property of consciousness itself. You can't simply claim it doesn't exist anymore, because if something cannot be conceptualized semantically, it lacks any form of existence to speak of. We can even wrap our minds around the concept of "Nothingness." That isn't a void in reality; it is merely a component of our semantic world, not our actual one.
In that scenario, you’re essentially talking in circles when you bring up unicorns. If someone were to ask whether a unicorn is the same thing as Kerber, you wouldn't even be able to provide an answer; you see, this sort of ad hoc, imaginary semantic playground lacks any established rules of identity, contradiction, or the law of the excluded middle. Ultimately, words lose their grip on meaning because you have no way of knowing what you're actually referring to. 🤷
To pick back up on our discussion regarding the divide between humans and the rest of the animal kingdom, here is how Marc Hauser frames it:

...Whenever nature has created systems that seem to be open-ended and generative, they've used some kind of system with a discrete set of recombinable elements. The question you can begin to ask in biology is, what kind of systems are capable of those kinds of computational processes. For example, many organisms seem to be capable of quite simple statistical computations, such as conditional probabilities that focus on local dependencies: if A, then B. Lots of animals seem capable of that. But when you step up to the next level in the computational hierarchy, one that requires recursion, you find great limitations both among animals and human infants. For example, an animal that can do if A then B, would have great difficulty doing if A to the N, then B to the N. We now begin to have a loop. If animals lack this capacity, which we believe is true, then we have identified an evolutionary constraint; humans seem to have evolved the capacity for recursion, a computation that liberated us in an incredible way.

It’s the very thing that lets us tackle complex mathematics just as easily as we handle language. This whole mechanism—taking distinct, individual pieces and shuffling them together—is essentially what provides the open-ended architecture found in genetics and chemistry. When you look at the pattern this way, you're left with a fascinating puzzle: what specific selective pressures drove the evolution of a recursive system in the first place? Why does it appear that humans are the sole organisms on this planet, the only natural system, possessing this particular capability? What were the environmental or social forces that forced this breakthrough?

...

Marc Hauser, a cognitive neuroscientist, serves as a professor within the departments of Psychology and the Program in Neurosciences at Harvard, where he also holds a fellowship in the Mind, Brain, and Behavior program. He is the author of The Evolution of Communication, The Design of Animal Communication (co-authored with M. Konishi), and Wild Minds: What Animals Really Think.
amberviper As if I haven't heard this before...
How exactly does one go about investigating the consciousness of a client? It’s a bit of a philosophical minefield, isn't it? And if we turn that lens inward to examine our own awareness—assuming we even attempt such a thing—we run straight into a fundamental wall. No matter how much we try to apply rigorous, scientific, or "objective" frameworks to the process, we are ultimately trapped within the confines of our own perspective. At the end of the day, you're performing a subjective investigation; you can dress it up in all the empirical clothing you want, but it remains an inherently private, internal affair.
If you really want to get a handle on bird intelligence—I’m talking about the heavy hitters like parrots, magpies, or crows—you have to look at how they navigate the unexpected. You can't just test what they already know; you have to throw them into a completely foreign situation and see if they can figure out the puzzle on the fly. Take the crows living out in New Caledonia, for instance; watching how they tackle novel problems is essentially the gold standard for measuring true cognitive grit.
Imagine crafting a makeshift little gadget out of nothing more than some twigs or perhaps an agave leaf—something you could actually use to fish larvae right out of their tiny hideouts deep within a tree trunk. In a controlled lab setting, researchers usually hand these creatures tools like a simple piece of wire to see how they handle it. I once watched this one crow, quite frankly, which was fascinating; the bird just looked at a straight piece of wire, figured things out, and bent it into a perfect little hook just to snag a small container filled with meat. It’s wild when you think about it. Chimpanzees, despite everything people say about them, don't seem to have that same kind of rapid-fire adaptability when the situation shifts; they actually lag behind these birds when it comes to that kind of quick-thinking problem-solving.

You’ve hit the nail on the head regarding the nature of first-person subjective inquiry, but that actually leads right back to my central argument. We tend to treat these internal experiences as if they carry some inherent weight of truth, yet a subjective impression isn't nearly as reliable as we like to pretend; at the end of the day, it is merely an impression, not a hard fact.
Trying to draw a direct line between the cognitive abilities of a chimpanzee and a crow is, frankly, a bit of a fool's errand; you’re essentially attempting to compare two entirely different evolutionary trajectories that have carved out vastly different toolkits to survive their own specific corners of the world. It’s like trying to argue whether a high-performance jet engine is "better" than a precision Swiss watch—they both represent incredible feats of engineering, sure, but they were built to solve completely different sets of problems in entirely different environments. One is optimized for raw power and atmospheric dominance, while the other is tuned for microscopic accuracy, and neither can claim superiority simply because their mechanisms don't overlap. Similarly, these two species have undergone such distinct adaptive processes to master their respective niches that any attempt at a head-to-head comparison ignores the fundamental reality of how evolution actually works.

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One doesn't really head toward Qualia just to convince ourselves that what we’re seeing is actually there—that feels like a bit of a redundant exercise, doesn't it? It’s more about chasing that specific, unmistakable sensation that hitches a ride on the perception itself. I mean, why is the raw feeling of perceiving red exactly what it is, rather than some other flavor of sensation? Or even deeper, why do we possess that internal feeling at all?
If things were even slightly different, we wouldn't be looking at red at all; it would have morphed into something else entirely. 🤷

It seems to me that our intellect is essentially an engine for generating concepts, a process that can only truly take place within the theater of a conscious state. Even when we drift off into sleep, where reality becomes a blur of dreamscapes, we are still capable of constructing those conceptual frameworks—but then again, dreaming itself is just another peculiar manifestation of consciousness, isn't it?
When you really sit down and peel back the layers of unconscious states, you start to realize that true creation simply isn't happening there; after all, if we define creation as an inherently "generative" act, then it must, by its very nature, be a conscious process.

No, I think you've got it all wrong. I don't actually sit around constructing concepts while in some heightened state of conscious deliberation. It isn't like I’m sitting at a desk, meticulously drafting definitions like a lawyer working on a contract. In fact, it's quite the opposite—I find myself tossing around various terms almost entirely by accident, using them through sheer habit without ever consciously assigning them a fixed, rigid meaning. Concepts aren't these solitary architectural projects we build in our heads through deliberate planning; rather, they gain their substance and weight out in the real world, forged through the messy, constant friction of human interaction.

It seems to me that Dennett simply refuses to acknowledge Qualia, largely because he can't wrap his head around the idea that they might actually be resolvable through science—or, more specifically, through standard physicalism.

No, I simply cannot get behind the whole notion of Qualia, primarily because the very premise feels fundamentally absurd. To attempt to discuss phenomena that lack any discernible cause—things about which we can neither say anything definitive nor uncover any truth—is, quite frankly, no different from debating the properties of things that don't even exist. It’s an exercise in futility. You have this proposition where you claim to perceive something that isn't material, yet somehow, this non-material entity manages to trigger physical reactions in people. It suggests something is causing the movement of matter without being part of the material world itself, which is just nonsense. Even if you look at what neurologists observe, they won't find any such thing; there are no "immaterial forces" operating within the brain. It’s a logical dead end, and honestly, I think Dennett is right on this one—we really ought to stop pretending Qualia exists.

Well, I think we’ve stumbled into yet another flawed analogy here. Even if we were to concede the existence of "unicorns," that wouldn't make them synonymous with Qualia. See, unicorns are just matters of pure fantasy and abstract thought, whereas with Qualia, the whole point hinges on the actual subjective experience inherent in the process itself. Does that make sense?

Actually, I'd argue that this subjective feeling sits on the exact same level as unicorns, simply because it is, itself, a subjective feeling. We can just as easily claim that such a thing—much like those mythical creatures—doesn't exist at all.

Best,
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amberviper As expressed by:
I can’t help but feel that Brentano might have overstepped the mark with his particular explanation. In his view, intentionality isn't really about "intent" in the way we usually think of it; rather, it's this idea of being "directed" toward something, as if every single mental phenomenon inherently contains an object within itself. To suggest that every psychological event carries some sort of object is, frankly, a bit disconnected from how reality actually functions. Take a simple sensation like an itch, for instance—it’s a purely mindless, objectless psychological process. An itch just *is*. But love? Love is a completely different beast because it is inherently directed toward something else. The distinction lies entirely in the experience: an itch doesn't point toward an object, whereas love is fundamentally oriented toward a subject. I would argue that an itch is a primary, raw sensation of consciousness, while love is a more complex, secondary, and therefore "directed" state. Even animals, despite being capable of deep, instinctive attachments, simply don't possess this specific brand of intentionality.
I think you’ve missed my point entirely. We aren't talking about a physical object like a coffee table or some tangible piece of furniture; we are discussing the object of consciousness itself. In your own example, that itch is the very thing being consciously experienced. If I say, "Marko svrbjeti ruka," that judgment doesn't inherently prove the existence of a physical limb—think about people experiencing phantom limb sensations where the feeling is undeniably present even if the hand isn't there. Furthermore, that thought doesn't necessarily guarantee the truth of the statement "Marko will scratch himself." And thirdly, if you were to swap out "hand" for some other variable, let's call it X, the truth of the proposition doesn't change: "Marko svrbjeti X." Therefore, this judgment satisfies all three of Chisholm's criteria for intentionality. This thought is intentional, and according to your own logic, it remains irreducible to mere physical states.

I find myself wondering why anyone would even consider these specific examples as valid illustrations of intentionality. Honestly, they seem much more like demonstrations of whether our perceptions and statements are actually true or false. It feels like we’re conflating the mere accuracy of a claim with the very nature of directedness itself.

If you want to really get under the skin of the matter, try swapping out the verb "to believe" for something like "to desire," "to feel," or even "to seek." You see, the goal here is to broaden the scope; we aren't just talking about simple belief anymore, which is really just one specific flavor of intentionality among many. By making that shift, you're opening up a much wider, more nuanced landscape of mental states.

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I struggle to find any real substance in this line of reasoning, especially when you look at the examples provided above; they just don't seem to hold water under even the slightest bit of scrutiny.
The whole point of establishing such rigorous criteria for intentionality is to prevent this inevitable, messy confusion from taking hold; we need clear boundaries so we can actually test whether intentional states can be reduced down to mere physical states.

Could you perhaps walk me through the nuances between those two "languages"? I find myself struggling to pin down where one ends and the other begins.

Think of mental language as a way we assign layers of meaning to the specific states and behaviors of any physical system. It’s a bit like how we approach complex software—take a high-level chess engine, for instance. If you try to describe its operations purely through the lens of raw mechanics or basic code execution, you’re missing the forest for the trees. Instead, once the system reaches a certain level of sophistication, we find ourselves naturally attributing higher-order properties to it; we start talking about its "desire" to win the match or its "belief" that a particular strategic move is the optimal path toward achieving a specific goal. We aren't just looking at bits and bytes anymore; we're applying a conceptual framework that makes sense of its complexity.

Look, if you insist on treating your own premise as some kind of absolute truth, then you’re essentially just falling into the trap of dogmatism yourself. I mean, the moment you declared that "saying something exists when it actually doesn't constitutes existence," you effectively turned your statement into an unassailable dogma—you've basically immunized your position against any meaningful critique by making it "absolute." It’s a bit ironic, really, because that’s exactly the kind of error you’re trying to pin on me.🙂

I’m not sure I follow your logic—are you suggesting that something which doesn't exist actually possesses some form of existence? If that’s your premise, then you’re essentially walking straight into a contradiction. Still, I have to admit, I tend to be a bit of a zealot when it comes to the law of excluded middle. 🤷
Edward Flores4 said:@ David: I’m still sitting here waiting for those arguments regarding "forgetting," let alone that breakdown you promised about anthropomorphism and anthropocentrism. Honestly, until you actually deliver, there's a pretty valid case to be made that you’re just an attention-seeker looking for a reaction—which, frankly, makes it perfectly reasonable to treat your posts the way we’d handle a spoiled toddler having a meltdown in the middle of a Target. You know the type—screaming and flailing their arms because they want their way right this second. Sadly, that kind of behavior usually stems from how they were raised, so it isn't really fair to blame the kid itself. The best move is usually just to let them scream it out until they run out of steam.

Thanks for understanding, and hey, feel free to keep the performance going if you need to.

What forgetting are we even talking about here? As for this whole business of anthropocentrism and anthropomorphism, honestly, it feels like a bit of a slog, so I think I'll leave that heavy lifting to you—if you're up for the task? ☕
amberviper said:I can't believe I'm actually seeing this... It’s like someone took a perfectly good idea and decided to run it through a paper shredder just for the hell of it. Honestly, if we're going to pretend this makes sense, we might as well just stop trying altogether...

Quincy:
It’s true, really... when you actually possess consciousness, there’s this undeniable sense of being. You just feel that internal perception of being one single, unified self...
Totally agree!

Quincy:
It turns out that various personality disorders can actually shift and change depending on the extent of different types of brain damage...
Whether you're looking at brain damage or dealing with various psychoses, like multiple personalities or dissociative disorders... it just doesn't track logically if you actually buy into the idea that a schizophrenic patient or someone with "multiple identities" truly possesses several different personas. Because if you actually believed them, you could never bring yourself to admit they were sick in the first place...

Quincy:
The way we interpret intentional systems is shifting... which means our sense of self basically hinges on interpretation—usually linguistic, since we rely so heavily on using the first person. It makes it pretty hard to swallow the idea that other animals possess a true sense of self when they lack language...
Consciousness is strictly a first-person affair, an entirely subjective experience... there is simply no way for us to study it from an objective standpoint. When it comes to animals and the idea of "self-awareness," I think we could all reach a consensus on one thing: they don't possess true self-awareness. They do have consciousness, though, just at varying levels of complexity—specifically in things like dolphins, elephants, certain birds like crows and parrots, as well as chimpanzees, gorillas, and orangutans... other animals operate with a much less developed sense of awareness. But that brings us to a massive theoretical headache for anyone following systemic evolutionary theory. If life truly progressed from single-celled organisms all the way up to humans, then you have to wonder... how is it even possible that some birds end up being more intelligent than primates, specifically chimpanzees?

Quincy:
Color perception isn't just some biological process happening inside the brain... You aren't going to find the color red by digging through neurons...
Based on that sentence alone, it’s clear you haven't quite grasped what Qualia actually means. You aren't going to find love tucked away in some corner of the brain, nor will you find pain or even a sense of freezing... because we're talking about raw sensation here, things that likely don't tie back to neurophysiology at all. If they did, then every other piece of matter—like a literal rock—would theoretically possess its own sense of color or consciousness. But it doesn't! And that's exactly the point, the proof that these feelings can't just be reduced to mere matter; once you try to strip everything down to basic physics, the essence of the experience simply vanishes...

Quincy:
It’s just like when someone claims they’re humming a tune in their head and tells you that if you pressed a stethoscope against their forehead, you’d actually hear a string quartet performing Schubert... but that doesn't exactly prove color or sound exists in some ghost within the machine...
Yeah, that’s exactly the point, and it's the strongest argument against materialism—even if those materialist dualists try to use it to bridge the gap between matter and conscious experience. But honestly, it feels like they're just pouring water from one empty bucket into another... a bottomless pit of logic. I mean, how do you actually account for Qualia? If our brain is just matter, it isn't inherently creative, because matter itself doesn't possess that spark... So how on earth are we capable of composing melodies or feeling the sheer intensity of a color?

Quincy:
Someone could wander into the middle of Washington, D.C. and ask people where Washington, D.C. is. They could search every street and alleyway, but they won't find it there. Yet, that doesn't mean we need to invent some non-material version of Washington, D.C. It’s a very real thing, without us having to stuff it into some immaterial spirit just because it's being sought on a different logical plane...
That analogy really misses the mark because it just doesn't fit. Our consciousness is capable of constructing an entire semantic world, which gives it existence—though whether that specific type of creation holds up logically is a whole other conversation...

Quincy:
What I'm trying to get at is that naive materialism—equating the sensation of pain to something like firing a C-fiber—is just as flawed as inventing some spiritual dimension as an ad hoc fix for conceptual confusion. As you noted, "Qualia seem like a single 'singularity' through which we couldn't even draw a tangent to our reality." But we have to remember your point that "the primary feature of our consciousness is subjectivity." You have to admit then that the existence of Qualia is entirely subjective. It's just as subjective as claiming the Earth is flat. Both claims carry equal weight because they are subjective and voiced from the first person. The only thing we can truly determine through science, empiricism, and argument—what we call objective—is Qualia itself...
The "Qualia" problem hasn't been solved yet. A materialist view just isn't adequate, otherwise we'd have to grant all properties of consciousness to inanimate objects, which is what someone like Schubert would suggest! But that's just not serious thinking. Qualia are mental properties of consciousness, and as such, they might remain an unsolvable puzzle for science...
Your grasp on analogies is a bit shaky here, since a subjective opinion, like saying "the Earth is flat," isn't the same thing as the raw sensation of pain or love. Plus, that claim is easily debunked through logic and empiricism—using actual objective scientific methodology. You're looking at it from a third-person perspective, so you've kind of mixed up your categories. Regardless, I think you'll eventually have to pick a side between materialistic monism and idealistic dualism, because there aren't really any other options left, given how wrong everything else has been...

I honestly struggle to see why one wouldn't just take a person at their word here. If we follow your line of reasoning—that an individual possesses this direct, unmediated access to their own consciousness that a third-party observer simply can't replicate—then, by definition, they have to be right about their own experience. It’s a closed loop. But if you're going to insist that a person might actually be mistaken about their own internal state, then you really ought to be prepared to concede that they could just as easily be wrong about their Qualia, which, as we know, is also a matter of direct, firsthand experience.

Consciousness is, by its very nature, an exclusively first-person affair—it’s all about subjectivity. There is this inherent wall we hit where we simply cannot investigate consciousness through an objective lens; you just can't step outside your own head to peer at it from the outside. When we start drifting into the territory of animal "self-awareness," I think most people would eventually reach a consensus: they don't possess self-awareness in the way we do. That said, they certainly possess varying degrees of consciousness. You see it in the complex social structures of dolphins, the heavy intelligence of elephants, and even in birds like crows, magpies, and parrots, not to mention our primate cousins like chimpanzees, gorillas, and orangutans. Other animals clearly operate on a much more rudimentary level of awareness. However, this brings us to a rather thorny theoretical knot. The scientists who champion systemic evolutionary theory find themselves caught in a massive dilemma here. If we accept the premise that life evolved linearly from single-celled organisms all the way up to humans, it forces us to confront a rather jarring question: How is it even possible that certain bird species actually exhibit higher levels of intelligence than primates—specifically, the chimpanzee?

To claim that we are fundamentally incapable of objectively studying consciousness feels like an incredibly massive leap—one that, frankly, I haven’t seen supported by any rigorous argument beyond mere semi-intuitive guesswork. It feels less like science and more like a philosophical shrug. And while we're on the subject of measuring the unmeasurable, I find myself scratching my head over how anyone could attempt to draw a meaningful comparison between the intelligence of primates and that of birds; the biological gulf between them is so vast that such a direct correlation seems almost arbitrary. 🤷

Based on that specific line of reasoning, it seems you haven't quite grasped the essence of "Qualia." You aren't going to stumble upon the feeling of love tucked away in some corner of the brain, nor will you find pain or hatred mapped out like a GPS coordinate; that’s because we are talking about raw sensation itself. If these experiences were strictly tied to neurophysiology, then by that logic, every other bit of matter—even a common stone—would essentially possess its own sense of color or consciousness. But it doesn't, does it? And that is precisely the point, the smoking gun, if you will: these feelings simply cannot be reduced to mere matter. Once you attempt to strip everything down to pure physics, those subjective experiences vanish into thin air, lost in the reductionist void.

I think I’ve finally wrapped my head around the whole concept of Qualia, and honestly, looking back at our discussion, I don't see how any of it actually contradicts my own position.

That’s exactly the point, and honestly, it serves as a massive red flag against materialism—the kind of logic materialist dualists try to lean on when they attempt to rationalize conscious states. But if you think about it, that whole line of reasoning is like trying to pour water from one hollow vessel into another, only to realize you're just moving liquid between two bottomless pits. It doesn't solve anything; it just displaces the problem. I mean, how does that framework even begin to account for Qualia? If we accept the premise that our brain is purely material, we run into a wall, because matter, by its very nature, lacks any capacity for creativity. It’s inert. So, how on earth do we manage to compose sweeping symphonies or conjure up the visceral, lived sensation of a specific shade of blue? You can't get something as profound as a melody or a feeling out of something that is fundamentally incapable of creation.

One could argue that Qualia don't actually require an explanation at all; the real mystery isn't their existence, but rather why we humans are so pathologically convinced of our own perceptions when reality is constantly tripping us up with illusions and sensory errors.

That analogy of yours just doesn't hold water—it’s fundamentally mismatched. Our consciousness possesses the capacity to construct an entire semantic world. Through that process, the world gains its existence, though whether that specific mode of creation holds up under logical scrutiny is a much more complicated question altogether.

I find it highly debatable to claim that consciousness is what creates concepts. A person can navigate through concepts like Washington, D.C., entirely without conscious deliberation. Consciousness doesn't need to manufacture the concept and the semantics first; if it did, it would have to create the concept of the concept itself, and we'd spiral into an endless loop where nothing ever actually takes shape. It’s essentially a version of Ryle's regress—if you're interested in that, there's a great book by the philosopher G. Ryle called The Concept of Mind.

The "Qualia" problem has remained unsolved to this point. A purely materialistic view feels inadequate, because if it were, we'd be forced to attribute all properties of consciousness to inanimate matter—which is exactly the kind of leap some people try to make! But that's just not serious thinking. Qualia are mental properties of consciousness, and as such, they might remain an unsolvable puzzle for science forever.

It remains "unsolved" only because there isn't actually a problem to solve. The issue only exists if you insist on clinging to dualism, which has been scientifically discredited unless, of course, you want to tell neuroscientists they're blind simply because they can't detect immaterial forces floating around inside the brain.

Your approach to analogies is a bit flawed here, because a subjective opinion—like believing "the Earth is flat"—is hardly the same thing as the raw sensation of pain or love. Besides, that particular claim can be thoroughly interrogated through logic and empirical evidence using objective scientific methodology. You have to look at it from a third-person perspective!

Exactly, and that's precisely what Dennett refers to as heterophenomenology. In the same way that an empirical observation can show someone's conviction that Qualia exist, it can just as easily show a conviction that unicorns exist, and that's not even mentioning optical illusions or the various ways our senses deceive us.

I think you've conflated two different categories here. Personally, I believe you'll eventually have to pick a side between materialistic monism and idealistic dualism; there aren't really any other viable options, since everything else proposed so far has been completely wrong.

I haven't conflated anything at all. 🙂