David Eagleman Archives - Farther to Go!

Existential Troublesome Knowledge

January 18, 2024 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

There’s troublesome knowledge—and then there’s existential troublesome knowledge.

The concept of troublesome knowledge was developed in academia and has since been applied and utilized in many academic and non-academic areas including scientific exploration, mathematics, politics, finance, history, and even writing.

To refresh, knowledge is troublesome when it:

conflicts with preexisting beliefs, especially if those beliefs are deeply held
is counterintuitive or seems illogical
is complex or difficult to understand
is disconcerting
requires a (transformational) change in self-perception

Troublesome knowledge within a field of inquiry or endeavor is one thing. But troublesome knowledge about the very nature of how we as humans function and our experience in and of the world—i.e., existential troublesome knowledge—is something else altogether. It’s troublesomeness squared, at the very least.

Many of our most basic assumptions about ourselves…are false. —Leonard Mlodinow, Subliminal

Phenomenal Individualism and Its Implications

The pursuit of existential troublesome knowledge leads us to a number of inescapable conclusions that point in the direction of what has been called phenomenal individualism.

Our experience is not an accurate reflection of reality, which means things are not as they seem.
We cannot fully know or access the experience of any other person or creature.
What we don’t know far exceeds what we know, and no matter how much we learn, this will always be the case; yet we operate as if what we see is all there is (WYSIATI).
Not only is everything everywhere in motion all the time, but everything (including each of us) is a process, and everything is an interpretation.
Rather than being, or resembling, a mechanical system, each of us is a complex adaptive system, physically, mentally, and emotionally.
These factors all constrain our experience of being in the world—and there is no way out of these constraints—but they also create a space of possibilities, including the possibility of creating transformational change.

I believe the fact that our experience is not an accurate reflection of reality is the foundational threshold concept that we must get (incorporate into our mental model) in order to grasp the nature of our existence and experience: our space of possibilities.

You may recall that threshold concepts are likely to be, among other things:

Transformative: they lead to a significant shift in perspective that alters our sense of who we are as well as what we see, the way we see it, and how we feel and think about it.
Irreversible: they involve crossing a “threshold,” after which our previous understanding is no longer readily accessible.
Integrated: they reveal relationships and connections of aspects and ideas that were previously seen as unrelated.
Troublesome: they are difficult concepts to grasp and are therefore troublesome (see troublesome knowledge above).

The Space of Possibilities

What you or I make of the characteristics that circumscribe our existence—how we interpret them and work with them—depends on our mental model of the world, which includes our personality and our beliefs.

Do you find the idea that things are not only not as they seem, but never as they seem disturbing, confusing, trivial, or intriguing?

Is the idea that the extent of what we don’t know will always be far greater than the extent of what we know frustrating, obvious, or expansive?

Does knowing that everything you experience is the result of your brain’s interpretation of data that other brains are very likely interpreting differently make you curious or does it feel unnerving or even threatening?

The Thin Slice

It has become clear that our brains sample just a small bit of the surrounding physical world. —David Eagleman, Incognito

Although what Eagleman says is true, and it’s possible to grasp the concept intellectually, it is simply impossible for us to experience. That’s because our brain is continuously assessing and interpreting the data it has access to as if it is all the data there is. How else could it operate?

If we really understand and acknowledge this aspect of reality—that we are always working with limited information we treat as if it is all the information—we must realize that a likely majority of the conclusions and explanations we take for granted are inaccurate, sometimes extremely so. Our brain can’t take into account factors of which it is unaware. Yet there are always factors that affect us of which we and our brain are unaware.

The conclusions and explanations we arrive at daily are often good enough for us to get by—not so erroneous they threaten our survival. But that isn’t always the case. And even if they don’t threaten our survival, they can modify our mental model in ways that lead to maladaptive perceptions of our internal and external world. Taking all of our perceptions for granted can have detrimental effects on our experience and therefore on our actions in and reactions to the world, as well as our wellbeing, and our relationships with others.

We are not significantly different from humans of the past who didn’t believe in the existence of germs or bacteria because they couldn’t see them with the naked eye. Or humans who believed the earth was the center of the solar system. Or that the brain was a useless organ—or that we only use 10% of it. Or that our memories are accurate, and eye-witness accounts are reliable.

When more information was obtained, we modified our understanding of germs and the solar system and the brain and memory and eye-witness accounts. We have enough information now to modify our understanding of how we operate and how our experience is based on our interpretations.

If we don’t, or don’t want to, understand this thing called phenomenal individualism, we will constantly be at the effect of our mistaken beliefs, locked into a perceptual and experiential system within which we have very little room to maneuver and no room at all to create transformational change.

On the other hand, we can step into and take an active role within this space of possibilities.

More to come!

Making Sense of
Sensory Information

December 21, 2023 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

On a continuous basis, our brain receives multiple streams of exteroceptive sensory data about the physical world and other people. At the same time it receives a steady stream of interoceptive data about us: our physical, mental, and emotional states.

We don’t have the necessary machinery, and we wouldn’t even want it, to process carefully all of the amount of information that we’re constantly bombarded with. —Susana Martinez-Conde, neuroscientist

We have to filter it, sort it, and make sense of it. The lenses or filters through which our brain views and processes the streams of information include:

Our mental model, which consists of our personality (much of which is genetically determined), our beliefs, and our experiences.
Our current situation or circumstances.
What we know or don’t know that’s relevant in the moment.

All of this data processing takes place in an environment in which everything everywhere is in motion all the time, everything is a process, and everything is an interpretation.

Perception vs. Reality

However, the previous statement, while true, does not reflect our experience. Our experience is that the world is full of relatively stable things that are inherently meaningful (that is, we’re not interpreting them; they simply are as we perceive them to be).

My brain manages to create for me the experience of a constant, unchanging world through which I move. —Chris Frith, neuropsychologist

Our brain creates this illusion and many, many more, all of which we take for granted. But in fact, nothing is static, fixed, or permanent; nothing is unchanging.

Because nothing is fixed or unchanging, there are no things—tangible or intangible—there are only processes. Each of us is a process composed of multiple processes: purely physical processes (blood flow, digestion) as well as personal identity, emotions, memories, thoughts, and relationships. Processes, both physiological and psychological, are a result of the multiple interactions (motion) of complex adaptive systems. Each of us is continuously in the making, becoming, being constituted.

Identity as a programmatic—but not deterministic—process welcomes innovation through small, recurring changes. Under these metaphysical assumptions, a meaningful life is less about finding your ‘real’ self than expanding its boundaries. —Celso Vieira, philosopher

The solar system, climate, ecosystems, life cycles, plants, and also the device you’re reading this on, your vehicle, and the mug you drink coffee or tea from are processes, too. Some of them just happen to be much longer processes than the process of you or the process of me.

The Interpreter Explains Everything

As previously stated, in order to make sense of what is happening externally and internally the brain has to interpret the data it’s exposed to.

[Your brain is] locked inside a bony skull, trying to figure what’s out there in the world. There’s no lights inside the skull. There’s no sound either. All you’ve got to go on is streams of electrical impulses which are only indirectly related to things in the world, whatever they may be. So perception—figuring out what’s there—has to be a process of informed guesswork in which the brain combines these sensory signals with its prior expectations or beliefs about the way the world is to form its best guess of what caused those signals. The brain doesn’t hear sound or see light. What we perceive is its best guess of what’s out there in the world. —Anil Seth, Professor of Cognitive and Computational Neuroscience, University of Sussex

Since the conscious brain only processes about 40 bits of information at a time, it has no idea of what the unconscious is dealing with. Thousands (perhaps millions) of brain activities go on relatively independently of one another and all outside the realm of conscious experience. Once these brain activities are expressed [action, thought, emotion], the expressions become events that the conscious system takes note of and that must be explained.

That is the job of an interpreter, so-called, in the left hemisphere of the brain that essentially explains us to ourselves. The interpreter constructs theories about why we act and behave the way we do based on the limited and fragmentary data available to it. (It’s a little bit like listening to a play-by-play announcer calling a game over the radio.)

Our conscious life is essentially an “afterthought” constructed by the interpreter.

In truth, when we set out to explain our actions, they are all post hoc explanations using post hoc observations with no access to nonconscious processing. Not only that, our left brain fudges things a bit to fit into a makes-sense story. Explanations are all based on what makes it into our consciousness, but actions and the feelings happen before we are consciously aware of them—and most of them are the results of nonconscious processes, which will never make it into the explanations. The reality is, listening to people’s explanations of their actions is interesting—and in the case of politicians, entertaining—but often a waste of time. (Michael Gazzaniga)

If you recall from the last article, our brain is more concerned with utility than with accuracy. As a result, the most satisfying explanations are the ones that are simple, straightforward, and unambiguous. If we find a satisfying explanation, we accept it as true and move on. Consider the implications.

Our Brain Creates Our Experience

December 12, 2023 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

As Rodney King famously asked in 1992:

Can we all get along?

While we may accept the notion that people disagree with each other all the time, we tend to believe and operate as if we’re right and the people with whom we disagree are wrong. We also tend to believe and operate as if we all have access to the same information and the same thinking processes, and if we just tried hard enough, applied ourselves correctly, we could get on the theoretical same page. We think the truth is out there, and we could all see it if we wanted to.

That’s very kumbaya, but since it’s not in fact the case, believing in and operating from that perspective is detrimental to our collective wellbeing and possibly to the survival of the planet.

We are wired not to experience the world as it is, but rather to apprehend it just accurately enough to function effectively in it. And contrary to the perception of many, including David Williams, as expressed in The Trickster Brain, this isn’t a design flaw.

Instead of being elegantly designed—the most efficient and marvelous epitome of creation—the brain is in many ways a botched construction job leading to endless contradictory impulses as the new and old parts of the brain attempt to work together.

Williams goes on to quote neuroscientist David J. Linden of John Hopkins as declaring the brain to be:

… a cobbled together mess…quirky, inefficient, and bizarre…not an optimized, generic problem-solving machine, but rather a weird agglomeration of ad hoc solutions that accumulated throughout millions of years of evolutionary history.

If you’ve tried to get your brain to do one thing, but it keeps on doing something you don’t want it to do, you might be tempted to agree with these assessments. Or if you’ve realized your memory of something is oddly distorted, missing altogether, or missing significant details. Or if you’ve been absolutely certain about something that proved not to be the case.

The Brain According to Linden?

Linden published a book in 2008 titled The Accidental Mind. I haven’t read it but part of his agenda appears to be a refutation of the idea that the brain was designed—something I’m totally in agreement with. I would probably enjoy the book: he has an engaging writing style and he covers topics of interest to me. But—and it’s a big but—you can’t describe the brain the way he’s described it (inefficient, not optimized, bizarre, etc.) unless you have in mind some other way you believe the brain should be.

I think that’s not an uncommon belief. It doesn’t, however, add anything useful to the conversation. We weren’t present throughout the course of the brain’s evolution. So how it developed, or how it should have developed not only can’t be known by us, it’s also essentially irrelevant. All we can do right now is acknowledge that this is the brain we have and put neuroscientists to the tasks of identifying how it work. Then once we figure out what we want, we can use the brain effectively to get more of that (individually and collectively) and less of what we don’t want.

We Perceive both Less than Is There, and More than Is There

It turns out that it’s actually more functional to have a brain that screens out from our awareness most of the sensory data it encounters and streams a stripped-down version into our conscious awareness. Our brain is more concerned with utility than with accuracy, which is why our experience is not an accurate reflection of reality.

Our experience of the world and our experiences of self within the world are forms of perception, a form of hallucination that’s incredibly useful in staying alive. We perceive both less than is there, and more than is there. —Anil Seth, neuroscientist

Consider the way the brain processes external visual stimuli and turns them into what we see. We have no conscious awareness of the brain’s complex visual processing operations that involve multiple pathways and the coordination of many different parts of the cerebral cortex; all we are aware of is the result, which seems much more straightforward than it actually is. We’re also not aware of our visual blind spot (everyone has one) because our brain does such a good job of filling it in with what we expect to see in that location.

You’re not perceiving what’s out there. You’re perceiving whatever your brain tells you. —David Eagleman, Incognito

The result is that in terms of what we see, both figuratively and literally, we miss quite a lot of detail, are easily fooled by visual and other illusions, fail to notice significant changes, and may not observe something that’s directly in front of us. This is somewhat shocking, really, given that over 10 million of the 11 million bits of information our brain processes moment-to-moment are devoted to visual perception.

You’re Not Sabotaging Yourself

November 13, 2015 by Joycelyn Campbell 1 Comment

Following right on the heels of a lack of will power, the number two reason people come up with for not following through on what they set out to do is self-sabotage. This is a catchall phrase that seems to refer to any behavior that is inconsistent with one’s conscious intentions or goals. As such, it’s completely meaningless.

You may routinely do things that you regret doing:

Overeat when you’re trying to lose weight
Sleep in when you want to go to the gym
Fail to study for an exam you want to pass
Put less than your best effort into a project that matters

But that doesn’t mean you’re sabotaging yourself.

Here’s the Merriam-Webster definition of sabotage: “the act of destroying or damaging something deliberately so that it does not work correctly.” Dictionary.com defines it as “any underhand interference with production, work, etc….as by enemy agents during wartime or by employees during a trade dispute.” Vocabulary.com says sabotage occurs “when you ruin or disrupt something by messing up a part of it on purpose.”

What these and all other definitions of the word sabotage have in common is the element of deliberateness. Sabotage, by definition, isn’t accidental or an unfortunate side-effect. It is intentional. So in order for us to be sabotaging ourselves, we would have to be engaging in counterproductive behavior on purpose.

This gets dicey right off the bat because we’re told our counterproductive (self-sabotaging) behavior originates in the unconscious. It is “hidden from our everyday thoughts,” according to one self-help author. But if we do something because we’re “unconsciously compelled” to do it, as a psychologist wrote, then it can’t possibly be intentional or deliberate.

Yes, it’s true—and inevitable—that we have competing or conflicting beliefs, goals, and intentions. In Incognito, David Eagleman says:

Brains…are built of multiple, overlapping experts who weigh in and compete over different choices. As Walt Whiteman correctly surmised, we are large and we harbor multitudes within us. And those multitudes are locked in chronic battle.

When the hostess at a party offers chocolate cake, you find yourself on the horns of a dilemma: some parts of your brain have evolved to crave the rich energy source of sugar [System 1], and other parts care about the negative consequences, such as the health of your heart or the bulge of your love handles [System 2]. Part of you wants the cake and part of you tries to muster the fortitude to forgo it.

Brains can be of two minds, and often many more. We don’t know whether to turn toward the cake or away from it, because there are several little sets of hands on the steering wheel of our behavior.

This is relatively straightforward and in no way implies that the part of our brain that craves sugar, System 1, has an intention to undermine System 2’s attempts to manage our health. The brain just doesn’t work that way.

Eagleman proposes that the brain is best understood as a team of rivals and adds:

Remember that competing factions typically have the same goal—success for the country—but they often have different ways of going about it.

How we frame a problem determines where and how we go about looking for its solution. If we view our counterproductive behavior as resulting from self-sabotage, we’re likely to divert our attention to trying to figure out why we’re sabotaging ourselves. But we don’t have direct access to the unconscious, which is where our so-called sabotage originates, so even if we were sabotaging ourselves we could never actually get to the bottom of things.

We harbor mechanical, “alien” subroutines to which we have no access and of which we have no acquaintance. Almost all of our actions—from producing speech to picking up a mug of coffee—are run by alien subroutines, also known as zombie systems.

Looking back into the past to find the trail of breadcrumbs that leads to the behavior of today amounts to a whole lot of wheel-spinning. It can’t succeed, and even if it could, it wouldn’t make any difference in regard to solving the problem at hand: getting our behavior to line up with our conscious intentions.

That’s because it isn’t the unconscious part of the brain that’s the problem; it’s the conscious part. If we don’t know what we want, we don’t have a clear direction. If we aren’t fully committed to what we set out to do (or claim to be setting out to do), we have no urgency. Without both direction and urgency, our best laid plans are dead in the water.

We can retrain System 1 to do more of what we want it to do and less of what we don’t want it to do. But that requires repetition and persistence. Lots of repetition. And lots of persistence. It isn’t easy—and it isn’t as sexy as searching for our inner saboteur—but it’s both straightforward and effective.

Self-sabotage is nothing more than a good cover story.

Freedom from Choice

November 6, 2015 by Joycelyn Campbell 3 Comments

You always have a choice. At least that’s what many people believe. No matter what happens, you can choose how to respond. And if you want things to be different, all you have to do is make different choices.

It’s a highly appealing belief to hold, yet you may have found that making a different choice is often tantalizingly out of reach, even when you know exactly what you want to do differently. So what’s going on? If you don’t make a different choice, does that mean you really don’t want to? Does it mean you lack self-control or will power? Does it mean you’re trying to sabotage yourself?

If you believe that you could make a different choice but don’t, why don’t you?

When you fail to make a different choice, you’re forced to explain yourself—at least to yourself. The result is often the beginning of a vicious cycle of rationalization, excuse-making, or self-blame that can drag on for years or even decades. This is a waste of time and totally counterproductive to changing behavior.

The more we discover about the circuitry of the brain, the more the answers tip away from accusations of indulgence, lack of motivation, and poor discipline—and move toward the details of the biology. —David Eagleman, Incognito

The truth is that you don’t always have a choice. In fact, you rarely have a choice. You keep doing the same things you’ve always done because that’s how your brain is wired. It conserves precious energy by turning as many behaviors as possible into routines and habits. Once those routines and habits are in place, they’re extremely difficult to disrupt. When faced with a familiar situation, you will most likely do what you’ve always done in that situation, even if you want to do something else.

Minute by minute, second by second, the unconscious part of your brain is absorbing and processing an unbelievable amount of data, all but a small fraction of which you’re not consciously aware of. So at the moment you’re faced with that familiar situation, your unconscious has picked up on signals, made connections, and initiated the usual response all before you can consciously consider doing something different. When it comes to routines and habits, consciousness is simply no match for the speed and anticipatory responses of the unconscious brain.

Letting Go of the Illusion

It’s hard to give up our illusions about choice. We want to keep our options open instead of locking ourselves in. We want to be spontaneous. And we prefer to believe we’re exercising conscious choice, no matter how ineffective or detrimental those choices may be. As a result, we often refuse to make a commitment, even to something we really want or that really matters to us.

We repeatedly put far more trust than is warranted in our conscious brain’s ability to override our unconscious brain’s programming. We’re convinced that next time we’ll do things differently.

The reality is that keeping our options open really means leaving the outcome to chance. Yes, there’s a slim possibility that when the moment comes we’ll make a different choice. But the odds are not on our side. The unconscious operates automatically and at a much faster speed than the conscious part of our brain.

When we blame our inability to effect change in our lives on a lack of self-control or will power, our only option is to work on developing those mental muscles. That can be done, to a limited extent, but the source of the problem is not the lack of self-control and will power but our reliance them.

The situation is not hopeless, however. We’re not entirely at the mercy of the unconscious part of our brain. We do have a say in the matter. We can learn how to use both parts of our brain to our advantage instead of letting the unconscious have its way all the time.

But that requires changing the way we think about choice.

The concepts of freedom and choice seem to belong side by side. After all, what is freedom if not freedom to choose? The idea that we could be free, experience freedom, without also having and exercising the ability to choose is difficult to contemplate.

But Krishnamurti believed otherwise.

We think that through choice we are free, but choice exists only when the mind is confused. There is no choice when the mind is clear. When you see things very clearly without any distortion, without any illusions, then there is no choice. A mind that is choiceless is a free mind, but a mind that chooses and therefore establishes a series of conflicts and contradictions is never free because it is in itself confused, divided, broken up.

Decide Now so You Won’t Have to Choose Later

Changing behavior requires that you do something different ahead of time instead of counting on doing something different in the moment. Determine how you want to respond in a familiar situation when you have some distance from it and can think clearly about it instead of when you’re in that situation. And then make a pre-commitment. A pre-commitment eliminates the need to make a choice in the moment because you’ve already decided what you’re going to do.

Formulate a clear and specific intention.
Come up with a way to keep your attention focused on your intention.
Assume you won’t be perfect out of the gate. Your unconscious brain is stubborn and set in its ways. With perseverance, however, your desired response will become the automatic one.

By giving up your so-called freedom of choice, you greatly increase the likelihood you’ll do what you’ve decided you want to do in order to have the life you want to have.