Do any animals (besides humans) have a sense of time?

Edward Flores4 said:@ John Doe: Look, after you’ve dodged three straight attempts at answering even the most basic questions—and instead just throwing out these half-baked arguments—I’m left with only one conclusion. It seems like you're either completely out of your depth here, totally uninterested in having an actual debate, or maybe just lacking any respect for the people you're talking to. Honestly, it feels like you aren't really grasping what you're writing, let alone processing what anyone else is saying to you.

If you want to keep going like this, I’d suggest heading over to a different corner of the internet rather than cluttering up the philosophy boards:
http://forum.com/forumdisplay.php?f=155

All the best!

Which questions, precisely? Look, the burden of proof lies squarely with you here; you’re the one making the positive assertion. My position remains steadfast: there is simply no evidence to suggest that animals possess a conceptual understanding of the past or the future. Meanwhile, you’re over there lamenting the perceived cruelties of capitalism and throwing around terms like "lobotomy" as if they were trump cards. It’s quite telling—I haven't seen even a flicker of actual expertise regarding the subject matter from you, just a sort of desperate, New Jersey-style hysteria.

Maybe instead of cluttering up this philosophy thread, you should try posting over at:
http://us-forum.com/philosophy-discussion

The oldest trick in the book. ☕

James Lee77 said:@James Lee77

I'm not totally sure I'm following you, so let me try to break this down:

When a fox buries extra food and then digs it up later, I feel like the process goes something like this—and honestly, I guess we have to project some human feelings onto them since most of us don't actually know what it's like to be a fox:
- while burying it: "now I don't need this food," vs. "later I'm gonna need it,"
- while digging it up: "I buried food right here before, now I need it."

From what I gather, you're saying there isn't any thought of "I buried food right here before," but rather just "the food is here now," without any memory of how it got there or even knowing why they think it's there. But even if I bought that, I still don't get how you explain why they bother hiding food at all if they don't have any concept of the future.

And look, even if I were to accept that (pretty weird to me) description of what happens when they dig stuff up, I'd probably need a way deeper explanation than just one of the top researchers in the field says. Because, looking at post #9, it seems like even citing a big-name expert doesn't fly with you if what they're saying doesn't line up with your own experience and how you see the world.

Of course, that assumes we can even discuss what it means to exist as a fox—much like how Nagel explores in his piece What's it like to be a bat, where he posits the near-impossibility of grasping another's consciousness, a notion I don't quite subscribe to 🙂. My point is, it’s a leap to conclude that because an animal buries food, it does so specifically because it anticipates a future need. We lack the empirical evidence to bridge that gap. It's much like a beaver building a dam; surely the beaver isn't sitting there contemplating how this structural feat will provide a fortified sanctuary to evade predators.

If I’m reading you correctly, you’re suggesting that when they dig the food up, there isn't this sense of "I buried it here before," but rather just a simple "the food is here now," devoid of any memory regarding its arrival or any concept of why it's located there. But even if I were to concede that point, I still struggle to grasp why they bother storing the food at all if they lack any concept of the future.

Think about it: why do birds build nests without a grand vision of the future? Why do ants haul dirt? Do you honestly believe an ant possesses a blueprint for a complex architectural structure the way a human architect approaches a skyscraper?

Even if I were willing to entertain that peculiar description of the retrieval process, I’d still require a much more granular explanation than simply one of the preeminent researchers in the field claims. Looking back at post #32, it seems even an appeal to authority from a renowned expert doesn't carry much weight with you if their findings clash with your own lived experience and your personal understanding of the world.

It isn't just about one leading researcher; the reality is that there is a general lack of proof for such affirmative claims regarding animal behavior. To truly validate this, say in dogs, we would need to observe a specific consequence of the burying process that dictates subsequent behavior. We need evidence of something that isn't merely instinctual, but rather a behavior that shows they are drawing different conclusions based on the fact that the bone was buried. We need something that points toward a functional memory of the act itself.

Here is what one researcher has to say about it:

Many psychologists hold the view that language is a uniquely human skill, and I have proposed (for instance, Macphail 1996) that while the intelligence found in nonhuman animals is largely driven by associative patterns, the human intellect undergoes a total transformation through our capacity for language. Language may then be a mental Rubicon and sol, making it a prime candidate for that massive leap in cognitive ability that ultimately gave rise to consciousness. This idea gains significant weight from studies on implicit learning, which show that when we rely on those same associative systems we inherited from our nonhuman ancestors, we aren't even aware they are operating. There is also a compelling argument for language's role in consciousness found in the phenomenon of infantile amnesia; the moment we begin to move past it seems to align perfectly with the emergence of language. In other words, our ability to consciously recall the past might actually hinge on the maturation of our linguistic abilities. But how could the development of language result in consciousness? My suggestion (Macphail, 1998) is that the ability to process subject-predicate relationships is a fundamental requirement for forming a concept of the self, and without that self-concept, true consciousness simply cannot exist.

Macphail, E. M. (1996). Cognitive function in mammals - the evolutionary perspective. Cognitive Brain Research, 3, 279-290.
Macphail, E. M. (September 1998). Evolution of consciousness. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

And here is a link to some fascinating commentary regarding signs of episodic memory in certain birds and mice:
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/03/sc...ewanted=1&_r=1

http://www.cogs.indiana.edu/spackled...timetravel.pdf

That's interesting... even the links you shared seem to support the idea that animals actually grasp the concepts of past and future. In fact, the article mentions Dr. Suddendorf—who, let's be honest, isn't exactly conducting the research himself but spends most of his time critiquing it—yet even he seems swayed. At the end of the piece, it says:

Other experts on animal behavior say that the study is compelling. Even Dr. Suddendorf, who has been so critical of previous studies, is intrigued by Dr. Clayton’s results. He said he wonders how long the birds can plan ahead: “Can they do this for an event next week or next month like humans can? Is it limited to caching, to just food?”

“It’s good to see people waking up to this,” Dr. Suddendorf said. “In five years the picture is going to look a lot clearer. The future looks bright for research on the future.”

So, what exactly is your actual argument here, and what kind of evidence are you leaning on? Because from where I'm sitting, the points you've brought up don't actually seem to back up your thesis at all. Maybe there's a bit of a disconnect regarding the concept of long-term planning, or perhaps something else is getting lost in translation?

Edward Flores4 said:That's interesting... even the links you shared seem to support the idea that animals actually grasp the concepts of past and future. In fact, the article mentions Dr. Suddendorf—who, let's be honest, isn't exactly conducting the research himself but spends most of his time critiquing it—yet even he seems swayed. At the end of the piece, it says:

Other experts on animal behavior say that the study is compelling. Even Dr. Suddendorf, who has been so critical of previous studies, is intrigued by Dr. Clayton’s results. He said he wonders how long the birds can plan ahead: “Can they do this for an event next week or next month like humans can? Is it limited to caching, to just food?”

“It’s good to see people waking up to this,” Dr. Suddendorf said. “In five years the picture is going to look a lot clearer. The future looks bright for research on the future.”

So, what exactly is your actual argument here, and what kind of evidence are you leaning on? Because from where I'm sitting, the points you've brought up don't actually seem to back up your thesis at all. Maybe there's a bit of a disconnect regarding the concept of long-term planning, or perhaps something else is getting lost in translation?

You really are something else, aren't you? Truly brilliant. I only included those links as the primary evidence supporting the argument regarding our ability to perceive both the future and the past. Are you suggesting that Dr. Suddendorf doesn't engage in research? Where on earth are you getting that from? It feels like you’ve been spinning quite a few yarns—or perhaps just outright fabricating things—on several occasions now. 🤣

What exactly is your core argument here, and more importantly, what kind of evidence are you actually leaning on? Because from where I’m sitting, the points you’ve just laid out don't seem to support your thesis at all—in fact, they almost feel like they're working against it. It makes me wonder if there might be a bit of a disconnect regarding the concept of long-term planning, or perhaps a fundamental misunderstanding of the framework we're discussing.

Are these points actually supporting my thesis? I’m genuinely curious—could you please restate exactly what my position is, or did you just conjure one up out of thin air? I feel like I already pointed out that you're misrepresenting me when you claim I said episodic memory doesn't exist; in reality, my actual point was this:

Look, I’m not saying animals don't possess any sort of memory at all, but let's be honest—there simply isn't any concrete evidence to support your specific claim that they experience episodic memory. I didn't go so far as to say they lack it entirely, but rather that we're currently staring at a void where the proof ought to be.

Unlike you, who seems to thrive solely on feeding those deep-seated prejudices, I’ve actually laid out a completely different perspective in this link—one that suggests there is remarkably little evidence to support the idea that we truly perceive the past or the future. I felt compelled to step in and do the heavy lifting myself because, frankly, instead of presenting actual data or building a coherent argument, you started throwing a bit of a tantrum about "evil scientists," acting like a child crying over spilled milk. ☕

ironmarlin1,

Could be, but you gotta prove there's actually a "thing-in-itself." You didn't give me a single reason to believe that such a thing even exists.

It’s not about belief. It’s pure logic—self-evident truth. Nothing comes from nothing. Period. That means if something exists, it’s always existed, existing just as itself, because it couldn't have been conjured out of thin air. Therefore, it is a “thing-in-itself.”

This is the fundamental matter everything is made of, since it’s the only thing that truly exists. Every person knows what that substance is as a “thing-in-itself.” It’s the exact same stuff that makes up a human being, because there is no "human"—there is only the matter that builds one. It’s the same stuff in us, in a fox, or anything else. And that means if the matter building a human has the capacity for episodic memory, then the matter building a fox, a seed, or a rock has that same capacity too.

Later.

Sandra Wilson68 said:ironmarlin1,

Could be, but you gotta prove there's actually a "thing-in-itself." You didn't give me a single reason to believe that such a thing even exists.

It’s not about belief. It’s pure logic—self-evident truth. Nothing comes from nothing. Period. That means if something exists, it’s always existed, existing just as itself, because it couldn't have been conjured out of thin air. Therefore, it is a “thing-in-itself.”

This is the fundamental matter everything is made of, since it’s the only thing that truly exists. Every person knows what that substance is as a “thing-in-itself.” It’s the exact same stuff that makes up a human being, because there is no "human"—there is only the matter that builds one. It’s the same stuff in us, in a fox, or anything else. And that means if the matter building a human has the capacity for episodic memory, then the matter building a fox, a seed, or a rock has that same capacity too.

Later.

Wait, if a human doesn't actually exist, but is merely the sum of the matter that builds them, and if that matter is the same in a person as it is in a fox, how on earth do you tell the difference between a human and a fox if they are fundamentally identical in every way?

And that means that if the matter composing a human possesses the capacity for episodic memory, then that same capacity resides within the matter forming the body of a fox, a plant seed, a stone, or whatever else might exist.

No, you’ve just assumed that humans and foxes are built from the exact same stuff and jumped straight to the conclusion that they share the same memory. The issue here is that your entire premise is completely pulled out of thin air. 🤷

David,

Quinn:

...there's zero proof for your positive claim that animals have episodic memory. I'm not saying they don't, I'm just saying there's no evidence..

You don't "prove" that, it's just common sense.

For nature to exist as its own entity—as a "thing in itself"—it has to possess both physical capabilities for movement and exertion, and mental capacities for perception, feeling, memory, thought, and understanding. If even one of those physical or mental traits were missing, the evolution of that matter wouldn't happen, and without it, neither life nor nature could exist. Mental abilities and actions fall outside the scope of scientific methods, which is why scientists can't determine what that matter is like as a "thing in itself." But that doesn't mean they *can't* know. They can, because they're made of that exact same stuff. Scientists, like everyone else, can know this through direct, internal experience. When it comes to things like this, it's pointless to hide behind science and demand empirical evidence. It would be just as ridiculous to claim a fisherman weaving his net to catch fish is acting consciously, while arguing that a spider—made of the same fundamental matter as the fisherman—isn't conscious when it weaves its web to catch bugs, and then demanding scientific proof for its awareness.

These are all facts rooted in experience and logic. If we just toss them aside, we’re left with nothing but explaining everything away with God. And using God as an explanation is the same as having no explanation at all.

Later.

Sandra Wilson68 said:David,

Quinn:

...there's zero proof for your positive claim that animals have episodic memory. I'm not saying they don't, I'm just saying there's no evidence..

You don't "prove" that, it's just common sense.

For nature to exist as its own entity—as a "thing in itself"—it has to possess both physical capabilities for movement and exertion, and mental capacities for perception, feeling, memory, thought, and understanding. If even one of those physical or mental traits were missing, the evolution of that matter wouldn't happen, and without it, neither life nor nature could exist. Mental abilities and actions fall outside the scope of scientific methods, which is why scientists can't determine what that matter is like as a "thing in itself." But that doesn't mean they *can't* know. They can, because they're made of that exact same stuff. Scientists, like everyone else, can know this through direct, internal experience. When it comes to things like this, it's pointless to hide behind science and demand empirical evidence. It would be just as ridiculous to claim a fisherman weaving his net to catch fish is acting consciously, while arguing that a spider—made of the same fundamental matter as the fisherman—isn't conscious when it weaves its web to catch bugs, and then demanding scientific proof for its awareness.

These are all facts rooted in experience and logic. If we just toss them aside, we’re left with nothing but explaining everything away with God. And using God as an explanation is the same as having no explanation at all.

Later.

Well, if that's the case, then there really isn't any room left for a debate, is there? 🤷
This explanation is about as profound as a divine revelation.

For the very essence of nature to exist independently—to be a true "thing-in-itself"—it would necessarily have to possess both physical capacities for exertion and movement, as well as psychological faculties for perception, sensation, memory, thought, and comprehension.

You keep talking about this "thing-in-itself" as if I’ve actually agreed that such a concept even exists. And then, when I try to find some logical footing for your claim, you simply brush it off by saying it's just common knowledge. Well, let me tell you, it isn't. 🤷

If even one of these physical or psychological abilities were missing, the evolution of that substance—and consequently life and nature itself—would be impossible.

So that's your take. 🤷

Psychological capacities and actions fall outside the reach of scientific methodology,

That's what you're claiming. 🤷

and that is precisely why scientists cannot know the true nature of this thing as a "thing-in-itself."

If we're defining existence this way, then for all intents and purposes, it doesn't exist at all.

These are all facts rooted in experience and logic; if we dismiss them so lightly, we're left with nothing but explaining everything away through God. And using God as an explanation is effectively the same as offering no explanation whatsoever.

Your "thing-in-itself" serves the exact same function as God does in religion. If you swapped one out for the other, you wouldn't change a single thing about the argument.

Best regards.

ironmarlin1 said:While I can't say I see eye-to-eye with your final conclusions, I do believe that the capacity for reflection is perhaps our most vital distinction from the animal kingdom. It's evidenced by the fact that animals lack that sort of episodic memory, and of course, by how we forge a sense of identity through language and other complex tools.

We really need to break this down point by point if we ever want to actually reach some kind of consensus.

1) The internal perspective: The defining trait of consciousness is that it possesses a certain quality—that a conscious being somehow "feels" like they exist, you know? This sense of "being someone" is the heart of phenomenal consciousness, the kind of awareness we humans carry. It exists as a sort of self-evident truth. This "self-evidence" means that unlike a non-conscious entity, a conscious being doesn't just exist; they have a specific relationship with themselves. So, having a consciousness means possessing an internal perspective. A being without consciousness is, by definition, a being without an internal perspective. The sensation of seeing a color isn't just some neurophysiological process happening in the brain; it’s a subjective experience, which is a hallmark of the soul... because if we could reduce everything strictly to physics, that feeling would simply vanish. And that’s just not possible, since a rock doesn't feel anything at all.

Or to put it another way: the subjective feeling of love, hatred, the perception of a color, or pain—these are spiritual properties of consciousness, not just side effects or "collateral damage" produced by neurophysiological processes in the central nervous system.

The concept of Quentin isn't tied to any specific culture; it shows up in every culture and religion out there.

Therefore: the primary feature of our consciousness is subjectivity! Subjectivity is defined by an internal perspective, and that internal perspective is expressed through "Quentin." These experiences are characterized by that feeling of "feeling a certain way toward someone" or that sense of self-presence. There are plenty of psychologists who lean toward panpsychism, but that doesn't hold water for me, because the universe as a whole doesn't have a subjective feeling, and neither do rocks or water...

With Quentin, you can't just "unplug" the internal perspective, because that's the only way to access the feeling itself. We are the sole witnesses to these things, regarding whether anything truly exists or not. We aren't capable of turning Quentin into quantitative data without destroying its very essence. That's why Quentin feels like a "singularity"—something we can't draw a tangent line away from to explain our reality. Since logic dictates through the third axiom, *tertium non datur*, that there is no middle ground between existence and non-existence, it follows that there is no middle ground between a personal and an impersonal stance...

The concept of "Quentin" is our subjective component of consciousness, the thing we own that allows us to establish our own identity. The sensation of the color blue is exclusively our own subjective experience, something no one else can feel in exactly the same way. And that goes for love, hate, or pain too...

2) The external perspective: alongside our internal view, consciousness also holds an outward gaze—it’s always directed at something, or rather, it’s consciousness *of* something.
We could call this "intentionality." While we might separate them for the sake of a methodological argument, human phenomenal consciousness is truly inseparable from that sense of intentionality.
In my view, the internal perspective is actually shaped by the external one, which seems perfectly capable of existing on its own, as our various sensations clearly demonstrate. A stone, for instance, possesses neither an internal nor an external perspective...

Neither the internal nor the external perspective should be reduced to mere biological mechanics. We have the capacity to conjure up things that don't even touch us directly—whether they lack physical existence entirely or are tangible objects: think of an "unprepared dinner table," "fine Napa Valley wine," a "beautiful woman," or even purely semantic concepts like "bankrupt ideals"...

3) multifunctionality: Humans are natural generalists, whereas animals are specialists. Without consciousness, a human wouldn't stand a chance at surviving based on any single "specialization." Every animal has its niche: one is incredibly fast, like a cheetah; another is venomous like a cobra; a third has crushing jaws like a lion or a hyena, and so on...
Animals are perfectly tuned to their environments, but humans aren't; instead, we reshape the environment to fit our needs. Yet, whatever falls outside the reach of animal senses remains on the periphery or stays completely out of their field of vision. Humans, however, take responsibility for everything...

4) Fantasy and abstraction: this is essentially an extension of human intentionality. Think of fantasy as our inner eye. It’s through fantasy and abstraction that we actually become creative—that we step into the role of creators... We aren't just limited to visualizing things we already know; we can conjure up the unknown, those fantastical landscapes like "a valley cradled by golden hills"... We can even visualize "nothingness" as an object of observation, simply because even "nothing" possesses its own semantic existence. This is how human consciousness becomes truly creative, directing its intention toward semantic, or linguistic, content. From this, it becomes clear that humans possess an internal perspective and its world, an external perspective and its world, and finally, a semantic perspective and its semantic world. Animals just don't have this capacity. Because of this, humans have built culture, religious rituals, and technology... things animals never quite managed to do.

David,

Quinn:

So you're saying there's no "person," just matter? And that this matter is the same in a human as it is in a fox? If we're made of the exact same stuff, how do you even tell us apart?

Look, I never said humans and foxes are identical. I said the building blocks are the same, and that both species have access to the same fundamental physical and mental capabilities. The difference is simply the purpose. Humans are built for one reason, foxes for another. The distinction isn't about their capacity for episodic memory; it’s just about their specific shape and function within the larger organism of nature. Think about it: when a seed turns into a plant, that transformation happens in stages. That gradual process means its "knowledge" of what it’s becoming—and the memory of that progression—is also incremental and episodic. If this were some freak one-time occurrence, sure, we could sit around guessing. But this happens billions of times over millions of years, everywhere, all the time. That’s a much more reliable experiment than anything you'd find in a lab.

But hey, if we’ve been raised to believe everything is just the hand of God at work, then we're playing a different game. In that case, people go hunting for scientific proof specifically because they know it isn't there, mostly just to protect their faith.

Quinn:

No, you're assuming humans and foxes are built from the same stuff and jumping to the conclusion that our memories are equal. The problem is, that whole premise is totally made up.

The baseline knowledge a fox has versus a human doesn't have to be the same, which means consciousness doesn't have to be either—since consciousness relies on that knowledge base. That base depends on perception, and perception is always tuned to the specific role the creature plays in nature. But the *ability* to acquire knowledge—to remember—is the same. The mechanism for learning is episodic, regardless of whether your senses are highly developed or pretty basic. Take a dog: it can't see color like we can. Its sensory input is more limited, so its total knowledge is more restricted, but the way it perceives things is still episodic. Without that, a dog couldn't learn a single trick or remember its owner. If the matter making up nature wasn't capable of episodic memory—learning and retaining info—material life wouldn't even be possible. Everything in existence, the entire natural world, repeats itself cyclically and episodically based on previous experience and information that must also be episodic.

That's just my take on it. You're free to disagree.

Later.

5) Reflection: At its core, human consciousness possesses reflection—that unique ability to turn inward and look back at itself. This means we don't just experience the sensation of existing; we actually feel the weight of *being* who we are... It’s as if our consciousness can catch a glimpse of itself in a mirror.

On the flip side, it also reflects outward toward the world around us.
Because of this, humans possess empathy, allowing us to truly identify with others and their emotions in a way animals simply can't. Sure, any mammal feels hunger, thirst, heat, or cold... those are just basic biological drives. But none of them can step back and rationalize those feelings, whereas we can. In that sense, we have a consciousness of our own consciousness—true self-awareness—which just isn't evident in the animal kingdom.
Neither reflection nor any other component of conscious thought can be fully explained away by evolutionary development alone.

6) Identity: The very unity of our mind depends on this self-awareness. Kant described self-awareness as a "synthetic whole and the unity of apperception!" That leads us to the definition of "personality," which I could quote here if needed, though it’s probably not vital right now. Animals lack personality; they lack that cohesive blend of consciousness and self-awareness.
Some animals might think, and they certainly show limited intelligence and awareness, but they lack reason... and without reason, there is no unified consciousness, no true self-awareness.

James Lee77 said:@James Lee77

I'm not totally sure I'm following you, so let me try to break this down:

When a fox buries extra food and then digs it up later, I feel like the process goes something like this—and honestly, I guess we have to project some human feelings onto them since most of us don't actually know what it's like to be a fox:
- while burying it: "now I don't need this food," vs. "later I'm gonna need it,"
- while digging it up: "I buried food right here before, now I need it."

From what I gather, you're saying there isn't any thought of "I buried food right here before," but rather just "the food is here now," without any memory of how it got there or even knowing why they think it's there. But even if I bought that, I still don't get how you explain why they bother hiding food at all if they don't have any concept of the future.

And look, even if I were to accept that (pretty weird to me) description of what happens when they dig stuff up, I'd probably need a way deeper explanation than just one of the top researchers in the field says. Because, looking at post #9, it seems like even citing a big-name expert doesn't fly with you if what they're saying doesn't line up with your own experience and how you see the world.

It's called natural affect, or instinct! A fox isn't making intentional choices; it's just acting on instinct. There's really no need for an anthropocentric interpretation here. I laid out the differences between human and animal consciousness for you, so maybe give that a read before you jump to your next response. I couldn't get to this yesterday because the forum was acting up...

amberviper said:We really need to break this down point by point if we ever want to actually reach some kind of consensus.

1) The internal perspective: The defining trait of consciousness is that it possesses a certain quality—that a conscious being somehow "feels" like they exist, you know? This sense of "being someone" is the heart of phenomenal consciousness, the kind of awareness we humans carry. It exists as a sort of self-evident truth. This "self-evidence" means that unlike a non-conscious entity, a conscious being doesn't just exist; they have a specific relationship with themselves. So, having a consciousness means possessing an internal perspective. A being without consciousness is, by definition, a being without an internal perspective. The sensation of seeing a color isn't just some neurophysiological process happening in the brain; it’s a subjective experience, which is a hallmark of the soul... because if we could reduce everything strictly to physics, that feeling would simply vanish. And that’s just not possible, since a rock doesn't feel anything at all.

Or to put it another way: the subjective feeling of love, hatred, the perception of a color, or pain—these are spiritual properties of consciousness, not just side effects or "collateral damage" produced by neurophysiological processes in the central nervous system.

The concept of Quentin isn't tied to any specific culture; it shows up in every culture and religion out there.

Therefore: the primary feature of our consciousness is subjectivity! Subjectivity is defined by an internal perspective, and that internal perspective is expressed through "Quentin." These experiences are characterized by that feeling of "feeling a certain way toward someone" or that sense of self-presence. There are plenty of psychologists who lean toward panpsychism, but that doesn't hold water for me, because the universe as a whole doesn't have a subjective feeling, and neither do rocks or water...

With Quentin, you can't just "unplug" the internal perspective, because that's the only way to access the feeling itself. We are the sole witnesses to these things, regarding whether anything truly exists or not. We aren't capable of turning Quentin into quantitative data without destroying its very essence. That's why Quentin feels like a "singularity"—something we can't draw a tangent line away from to explain our reality. Since logic dictates through the third axiom, *tertium non datur*, that there is no middle ground between existence and non-existence, it follows that there is no middle ground between a personal and an impersonal stance...

The concept of "Quentin" is our subjective component of consciousness, the thing we own that allows us to establish our own identity. The sensation of the color blue is exclusively our own subjective experience, something no one else can feel in exactly the same way. And that goes for love, hate, or pain too...

It stands to reason that a conscious being inherently feels their own existence; there is this profound, internal perception of a unified self. Yet, if we look at various personality disorders, it becomes clear how fragile that unity actually is, especially when brain function is compromised. In those instances, a person might experience the jarring sensation of possessing multiple distinct personalities. It’s much like that disorienting moment you get while shopping at a Target and catch a glimpse of yourself on a security monitor—for a split second, you see a stranger staring back, only to realize with a jolt that it is, indeed, you. What’s happening there is a shift in how the intentional system interprets reality. Essentially, the "oneness" of the self relies heavily on interpretation, which is almost always driven by language—specifically, our ability to utilize the first-person perspective. This brings me to a rather compelling thought regarding the animal kingdom: it makes it quite difficult to argue that other animals possess a true sense of self when they lack the linguistic framework to construct one.

The sensation of perceiving color isn't some localized process occurring within the brain. You could spend an eternity scouring through neurons under a microscope, but you aren't going to stumble upon the color red tucked away between synapses. It’s much like if someone claimed they were hearing a melody playing in their head; you could press a stethoscope against their forehead all day, but you won't hear a string quartet performing Schubert. That doesn't suddenly prove that color or sound exists as some ghostly entity residing within a "spirit in the machine." Think of it this way: someone could wander into the middle of Times Square and start asking passersby where exactly New York City is located. They could search every alleyway, every subway station, and every skyscraper, yet they would never "find" the city itself by looking at its physical components. But that doesn't mean we need to invent some ethereal, non-material version of New York just to account for the search. The city is undeniably real, and there is simply no logical necessity to stuff it into a metaphysical realm just because you're looking for it on a different level of abstraction.

What I am trying to get at is that this naive materialism—the kind that tries to reduce the entire experience of pain down to nothing more than some neurons firing in the brain—is just as fundamentally flawed as inventing a mystical, spiritual dimension out of thin air just to patch up a conceptual mess. It’s a bit of a circular trap. As you pointed out, > seems to act like a sort of singularity, a point beyond which we can't exactly draw a straight line back to our physical reality. But we have to circle back to your own observation that the defining characteristic of consciousness is its subjectivity. If we follow that logic, then the existence of > is entirely subjective. In that sense, claiming the Earth is flat is just as "valid" an assertion because both are purely first-person, subjective claims. They carry the same weight within that narrow framework. The only way we can actually reach a consensus—using science, empirical data, and rigorous argument to establish what we call objective truth—is through intersubjectivity, and that is where we must also apply our scrutiny to >.

@ 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.

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...

amberviper said:2) The external perspective: alongside our internal view, consciousness also holds an outward gaze—it’s always directed at something, or rather, it’s consciousness *of* something.
We could call this "intentionality." While we might separate them for the sake of a methodological argument, human phenomenal consciousness is truly inseparable from that sense of intentionality.
In my view, the internal perspective is actually shaped by the external one, which seems perfectly capable of existing on its own, as our various sensations clearly demonstrate. A stone, for instance, possesses neither an internal nor an external perspective...

Neither the internal nor the external perspective should be reduced to mere biological mechanics. We have the capacity to conjure up things that don't even touch us directly—whether they lack physical existence entirely or are tangible objects: think of an "unprepared dinner table," "fine Napa Valley wine," a "beautiful woman," or even purely semantic concepts like "bankrupt ideals"...

3) multifunctionality: Humans are natural generalists, whereas animals are specialists. Without consciousness, a human wouldn't stand a chance at surviving based on any single "specialization." Every animal has its niche: one is incredibly fast, like a cheetah; another is venomous like a cobra; a third has crushing jaws like a lion or a hyena, and so on...
Animals are perfectly tuned to their environments, but humans aren't; instead, we reshape the environment to fit our needs. Yet, whatever falls outside the reach of animal senses remains on the periphery or stays completely out of their field of vision. Humans, however, take responsibility for everything...

Back in the 19th century, Franz Brentano was the first to argue that he had formulated a distinction between physical and mental phenomena. Mental phenomena exhibit intentionality, a concept he borrowed from the Scholastics. He suggests, much like you do, that consciousness is always aimed at something. When a person has a desire, they have a desire *for* something. When they feel hope, they hope *that* something will happen, and so on. The crucial point he made, however, was that this directedness toward an object does not imply that the object actually exists. In fact, he referred to this specific quality of intentionality as Inexistenz. Furthermore, intentionality doesn't mean the intended judgment is true or false. For instance, saying "I believe it will rain tomorrow" doesn't inherently mean the proposition "It will rain tomorrow" is true or false. Thirdly, there is the criterion that the judgment "Mark believes he is looking at Danica" does not dictate the truth of the judgment "Mark believes he is looking at Venus," even though both names refer to the same concept. This distinction was later refined by the philosopher Chisholm.
It is vital to note that this division doesn't fall back into that old, sterile dichotomy between phenomena and entities; rather, it creates a divide between the language of the mind and the language of physical science. But here lies the flaw in your argument regarding why this cannot be naturalized: claiming that something does not exist is not the same as suggesting, as you seem to imply, that it somehow *does* exist in some capacity. There is a massive difference between believing something doesn't exist and acting based on that belief, versus asserting that something exists simply because you are thinking about it.

3) Multifunctionality: Humans are natural generalists, whereas animals are specialists. Without consciousness, a human being would be unable to survive due to our lack of biological "specialization." Every animal has its niche: one is incredibly fast, like a cheetah; another is venomous, like a rattlesnake; a third has powerful jaws, like a lion or a hyena, and so forth. Humans, by contrast, are essentially naked; we don't even have fur. An Alaskan Inuit wouldn't stand a chance in the Arctic without self-awareness, intelligence, and reason.
Animals are perfectly adapted to their surroundings, but humans aren't; instead, we adapt the environment to suit our needs. Yet, whatever animal senses don't directly touch remains on the periphery or entirely outside their field of vision. Humans, however, tend to worry about everything.

I agree.

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. 🙂