Modern Wisdom - #551 - Patrick House - How Much Do We Actually Know About Consciousness?

Episode Date: November 12, 2022

Patrick House is a neuroscientist and writer whose research focuses on free will and how mind-control parasites alter their host's behaviour. If it wasn't for us experiencing it, the universe would give us no indication that consciousness even exists. The most fundamental part of human experience has many proposed explanations, but just how well-grounded are these, and what are we missing? Expect to learn why removing parts of the brain change some aspects of the self but not all of them, what it's like for animals who can put half of their brain to sleep at once, how the brain is intimately linked with timekeeping, why almost all explanations of consciousness are unsatisfactory, what the future of brain-research looks like and much more... Sponsors: Get 10% discount & free shipping on the best Ketone Drink at https://ketone-iq.com/ (use code MW10) Get 83% discount & 3 months free from Surfshark VPN at https://surfshark.deals/MODERNWISDOM (use code MODERNWISDOM) Get 15% discount on the amazing 6 Minute Diary at https://bit.ly/diarywisdom (use code MW15) (USA - https://amzn.to/3b2fQbR and use 15MINUTES) Extra Stuff: Follow Patrick on Twitter - https://mobile.twitter.com/patrick__house  Buy Patrick's Book - https://amzn.to/3zyGYbF  Get my free Reading List of 100 books to read before you die → https://chriswillx.com/books/ To support me on Patreon (thank you): https://www.patreon.com/modernwisdom - Get in touch. Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/chriswillx Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/chriswillx YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/modernwisdompodcast Email: https://chriswillx.com/contact/  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hello everybody, welcome back to the show. My guest today is Patrick House. He's a neuroscientist and writer whose research focuses on free will and how mind control parasites alter their host's behaviour. If it wasn't for us experiencing it, the universe would give us no indication that consciousness even exists. The most fundamental part of human experience has many proposed explanations, but just how well grounded are these, and what are we missing?

Expect to learn why removing parts of the brain change some aspects of the self, but not all of them. What it's like for animals who can put half of their brain to sleep at once, how the brain is intimately linked with timekeeping, why almost all explanations of consciousness are unsatisfactory, what the future of brain research looks like, and much more. But now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Patrick House. There's a quote that says, life is a comedy to those who think and the tragedy to those who feel. What do you think that means? Oh, I think it's exactly inverted. There's, I think there's way more tragedy when you zoom in

at the kind of chaos and nightmare of what's happening inside an individual single cell, which is kind of how I got interested in the brain. So yeah, I think that gets exactly wrong. Who said that? I'm not. It was an erratic. Yeah. Well, the way that I see it as well is I would agree that the people that have greater depth of insight to the ones that also have a greater capacity for suffering. Yeah, I mean, like, the way that I see kind of the modern brain and the modern, all the kind of legacy issues we have to deal with is basically we're downstream of a single cell from three billion years ago who is too timid to die and we've inherited all of its kind of self-consciousnesses and all of

its quirks and foibles. And you know, we're dealing with these things now like, for example, what medicine, all of medicine and all of science, all of biological science have to deal with. But it's fundamentally just downstream of this one cell that couldn't give up. And I think there's a lot of that that is perhaps humorous, but most of it's a tragedy. Evolution is a long, unbroken line of most things dying off. So. is a long, unbroken line of most things dying off. So that's a good point. And for the most part as well, the ever the more anxious, ever the more concerned neurotic overthinking version of that,

usually being the adaptive one. Yeah, well, so I've been thinking about this a little bit recently with respect to the way you just described it, the ever-anxious overthinking, etc. I actually believe that there's a variation in the ways that people simulate what happens in their head. So basically, a single event happens. Something happens in your world. You're at a party and a conversation goes around and you, let's say you miss the opportunity for a well-timed precision joke that you know when you simulated in your head would have killed. And then some people will not let that go. We'll think about that.

There's a whole phrase in French staircase wit, which is the idea that if you don't say something in a party, you'll figure out the exact right answer. The widiest response will come to you on the staircase as you're leaving the party, which fundamentally, I mean, so you could take that as just a kind of side anecdote, or maybe again one of these cute little aphorisms that artists and people throw around. But what it fundamentally means is something profound about the brain, which is that we are constantly simulating. We are constantly rehearsing in our mind. That which just happened, that which is about to happen in the future, and I would guess

that there are some people, those that are perhaps neuratically inclined or anxiety inclined. Those are people that rehearse and simulate more, more and more and more. So whether or not those people end up being better at being comedians or more likely to throw tragedy onto the world, I don't know, but I think it comes from simulation. Yes, I would be tempted to agree. And I think there's an interesting difference between Daniel Kahneman and Daniel Gilbert's two views of happiness, one being based on meaning, almost like a retrospective, a happy life is one which in retrospect you're glad you lived. And the other one, Dan Gilbert's, is the lying on a lilo with a cocktail in your hand,

23 hours a day for the remainder of time. And I've come to believe that both of those things, you hear people talk about, well, I want to be the more hedonic side, I want to be the more meaningful side. And my belief at the moment is that that is very much just a spectrum of temperament. If you're the sort of person who spends a lot more time being introspective and ruminative, then by design, you're going to want to do things now, which are almost an investment for your future self to look back on and bask in their meaningful glow. Whereas if you're a person that's a little bit more in the moment, then you're going to lean more hedonically. And I think that maybe we've got something similar going on here that staircase wit for some people may not even be a thing. Someone

may not even consider the conversation that they had earlier on as they're going down the stairs because they're embraced in whatever is coming next. Maybe it's the stairs. Maybe it's the party they're going to later on or the dinner that they're going to have or whatever. That's a very good point that staircase with is someone living in the past in some sense, right? They're rehearsing the past.

But the interesting thing is that it actually counts as learning for future behavior. So for example, it might not be the case that they end up in exactly the same scenario, but should a conversation at some future party kind of tend toward that same punchline, perhaps they can, in fact, use it in the future. But I do think you're right that sometimes there's this kind of misalignment with the temporal priority

that someone has, whether or not they live mostly in the past, present, or future. I do not live in the present. I live mostly in the kind of rehearsed planned future that I just kind of try to guide towards as if I'm steering a dinghy out lost in the kind of open ocean. But there are people that surely live in the present, and I completely and utterly discounted it.

To an earlier thing, if I can tangent off an earlier thing, you said, you know, so in this book, I kind of offer up a lot of different definitions and kind of modern models and theories of what consciousness is. But I did not include all of them. And I actually did not include my favorite definition, because this book isn't about me. But I, so my PhD work, I studied a parasite, a single cell parasite that gets into my brains, gets into rodent brains, and makes them not afraid of cats anymore.

It makes some percentage of them not afraid of cats anymore. The idea is that it completes the life cycle. It's one of these weird mind control parasite things that evolution figured out where the parasite has to reproduce inside of a cat, inside of a god of a cat. So in order to get from one to another, it kind of uses the mouse as a little intermediate host, like an Uber. Like an Uber to the next cat, right? But along the way, it does like very fancy neurobiology and mind control that we do not even remotely understand that word. But one thing I realized is after years and years of basically learning the behavior of a mouse and then giving them this parasite, and then watching their preferences shift. So like before you give the parasite some percentage of them, I mean they're all afraid of the cat. And then after you give them the parasite, it's in their brain, it's

mucking around with something. And some percentage of them appear to approach the cat, or at the very least don't seem to run away as quickly. And I was thinking like, you know, of course we scientists studied this because we're trying to extrapolate up to human behavior. And it's like, I don't actually know something that you could not describe as a preference like that. And one of my favorite definitions of kind of identity of who we are is we're just an accumulation of preferences. That mouse kind of is shaped from being afraid of a cat towards liking a cat. We as humans as individuals vary in our preference for past thinking or present thinking or future planning and that kind of thing. And the real tragedy to me is that we don't get like a little dossier when we meet a person about what their priorities are and what their preferences

are. I mean, that's some of the beauty of interacting and social life and everything. But I would love to know if a potential romantic partner and I see the time epoch of our preferred choosing similarly such that when I buy a gift for her or she gets one for me, it's like aligned temporarily, not just with all the other things, right? Gift giving is hard, and it's mostly because we don't have access to people's true preferences or priorities. Does that not go back to the single-cell organism or the very simple types of organism where the number of inputs would have been super, super low?

Like the fact that you have pretty much everything is preferences and pretty much everything has an opportunity cost by doing a thing you can't do another thing. Therefore there is pressure on the decision that you need to make. I seem to remember about one of the super simple creatures that can spin one way and it means it goes forward or it can spin another way and it means that it turns. So it can turn around and around. It might be something that lives in your gut maybe now, but previously would have been perhaps part of a lineage.

But yeah, it can either, if it goes towards a particular direction and there's more glucose than there was previously, then it continues to spin in that direction. And then if it's less, then it'll continue to turn until it finds it and then it'll turn and turn and turn. Oh, there we go, and it'll go forward.

Like, that's just preferences, right? It has a preference to be in an environment that has more glucose. And it has two options. The differences, we have a multiplicity of preferences, sometimes many of which conflict with each other. And we have a multiplicity of options, which is basically the same thing. Yeah, one of the interesting overlaps between both the way that the kind of biologists and neuroscientists model some organismal behavior and an overlap with the AI world and the terms of art and artificial intelligence is this idea of gradient descent. That's what's called as the official term gradient descent, but it's exactly what you're just

describing, which is for any given resource. There'll be more of it somewhere. It'll be diffusely spread around in environment or maybe the air. And you can actually get extraordinarily complex behavior from just following that one simple rule of if more here go towards if less go away from. For example, we've all had the experience of like a fly that we swat away and then immediately circles back and comes right back to where we are

over and over and over and some like kind of pergatorial hell of this creature. Like really, it feels personal, right? It feels like it's about you and it's never ending. And like, it's because they're following a gradient to send model of diffusion of olfactory chemicals that they're detecting, right? Like, they're not doing anything that is, it's not about you, it's about you as a source of molecules that are diffusing in the air, kind of the farther away you are. Anyone who wears perfume knows

there's kind of a drop off, like a one over R square drop off of the wake of the perfume. That's all these things are doing. And so you can get, it's really remarkable how complex of a kind of behavior you can get from these extremely simple rules. And yeah, I mean, whatever that single cell was doing 3 billion years ago and whatever we're doing now, we're all using the same molecular parts, right? It's bizarre. People talk about an individual neurotransmitter as one thing dopamine is a reward or pleasure. It's like, well, cockroaches use octopamine, which is a very, very similar thing,

to control their muscles on their periphery. They basically use dopamine, very close relative, the exact same chemical, to do something entirely different that is useful for their needs. And so, we think about this very special and exquisite balance of a human brain being some percentage this part right now, this part neuro-transmitter, that part neuro-transmitter. But these things are like kind of evolutionary lego bricks

that we've used for three billion years that are like so out of their original contexts that they're, I mean, that they're, that they interact in ways that we can't even remotely predict. Look at the side effects on any, go to CVS, well, I agree, I don't know if you're in Britain, I don't know what you guys have. I'm in Austin now, so I, I guess just down this straight, yeah. Okay, CVS, go to a drug store or a pharmacy.

And just look, like if you, if you ever wonder why it is the case that neuroscience is behind the times, if you ever wonder why we're in like the Babylonian era and we haven't cured a single thing and, you know, like suicides are on the rise, all over the world and we literally like haven't eradicated like they did over in the small pox world or infectious disease world, we haven't, or made to understood a single disease. All you need to do is look at the side effects on any bottle in any pickup, pick a random one as you walked down the pharmacy and you realize that there is, it's input into a biological system does not give you one thing. It gives you a whole host of a range of different consequences.

So it's not as easy as like, you know, the physicists, you know, bless their hearts. Do have it a bit easier. We're like, if you kind of input something, the same output can come out reliably, but a biology that's a non-starter. We don't have that. How much do we actually know about consciousness in your opinion? I think we're in the Babylonian era of understanding the brain and therefore understanding consciousness. So the way that I kind of modeled my book is imagining that it was like 1000 AD and people, you know, people spend every night looking up at the stars, right? And they had exquisite models. So again, 1000 AD. You look up at the stars, they move.

They're different every night. Some of them move one way. There's a few that appear to circle back on each other. Those are the planets. But these things are moving. And they were star, not in the LA way. They were star charts, like real useful star charts that sailors used to navigate at night across the oceans.

And they were very good at predicting where the stars would be next in the sky, but they had no idea why. Right? They didn't have the model to explain why, but they could say, hey, look, that star will be at this point in seven days with decent accuracy. And, you know, I kind of see neuroscience as a similar inflection point, which is we know where in the brain activity is. We know if you show someone a face, there will be activity in the fuser form face area, like, wow, what a coincidence. It's not as if we named that after the fact or anything,

but we don't know why. We don't know why it's there and not anywhere else. We don't know why stimulating with an electrode that part of the brain creates the perception or the kind of warping of faces subjectively to a person. Whereas if you activate somewhere else in the brain, it'll create this out of music. Or if you somewhere else, it'll create a visual experience.

We know where, but we don't know why. So I wrote this book from that vantage point of, if we were Babylonian era astronomers, and someone was to say, what are 19 ways of looking at the sky, for example? You'd have 19 different theories, most of them wrong, but there are observations in there. And those observations, someone, some future scientist,

some Galileo hundreds of years later, is gonna look back and have to explain all of them, right? There's no conscious experience that a theory should not be able to explain. Everything that's happened in your head. Yeah, that's very interesting. That no matter what your view of consciousness right now, the ultimate completed theory of consciousness

needs to be able to encapsulate all of the experiences that everybody's had from every single person. Seasures to maladaptive whatever, to people in comas, to lucid dreaming, to sleepwalking, to, soive whatever, to people in comas, to lucid dreaming, to sleepwalking, to, to, to, to, to, to, to, to, to, to, to, so there is, yeah, there's no phenomenological experience that your brain can create,

which is invalid, correct. In service of the ultimately correct theory of consciousness. That's interesting. Yeah, and so it's, it's, which, with each passing moment, I don't know how to kind of quantitatively summit all of the experiences happening every second around the world across humans and

animals and every conscious creature. But, in terms of what a theory or model of consciousness has to explain, we are growing the amount of data we must explain is growing exponentially with every second, right? Orders of magnitude more. Every passing second, it's getting harder and harder. But you know, if you, and it's not to say that science will repeat itself, but if you look at the history of how like electricity and magnetism and the theory of gravity were kind of all wrapped into each other, you know, it took hundreds and hundreds of years in the brightest, some of the brightest people that have ever lived

in order to make incremental progress in some of these things. And people had observations about electricity and people had observations about magnetism and people had observations about how things fall, you know, at some rate and there's a bowling ball and there's an owl and somehow the owl goes the other way, but if you drop the bowling ball it goes straight down, which by the way can be, if you could describe the difference between a bowling ball and there's an owl and somehow the owl goes the other way but if you drop the bowling ball it goes straight down which by the way can be if you could describe the

difference between a bowling ball and an owl if you try to drop them from the top of the tower you've just that's your no-pull press. But especially if they weigh exactly the same because then they're you know that's the control condition the mass is the control condition. Anyway these theories over the centuries were thought to be disparate. People tried to like bottle electricity for a while. They thought they could like capture it, and it would just somehow be contained. And it took a very long time for people to realize that these observations were actually about the same thing. They were actually flip sides at the same coin, that you can make a one-to-one mapping between electromagnetism.

And, you know, an interesting question is whether or not in biology we will have a similar kind of moment, whether or not all of these weird explanations for what it's like in a brain and our subjective experience for what we're experiencing on a daily, second by second level. All of that will have to be explained in the unified theory of gravity, of consciousness, which who knows what we get there. Why is it that consciousness research is so difficult? I think ultimately, I think ultimately it has to do with data coll, the low fidelity of data collection. So basically, the best we have for subjective experience is language. Language is a highly, highly compressed kind of side show,

almost anic, not even anecdotal. It's a highly compressed version of what's happening on the inside of your head, right? Like imagine a JPEG or like a perfect image, a raw photon count, and over time you compress it and compress it to put it on the internet and a phone and back and forth. Until you end up with something at some point, if you compress too far, you end up with something indecisive for a while. And I feel like language is like an extremely low resolution, JPEG, of what is effectively the richest image, a richer image than we've ever seen digitally. So like the compression algorithm,

you could probably quantify that somehow in terms of language is attempting to get at what's on the inside of your head. But it has evolved, I think it is subject to the same pressures as you might say, natural selection is. And so language has survived because of its utility, not necessarily because of its accuracy.

It gets by. It does a good enough job that we can do things like society and have arguments and complement each other. You know, like it's done a good enough job in the same way that natural selection and evolution by natural selection, it's not about optimization, it's about doing a good enough job.

We have all kinds of horrific inefficiencies. And similarly with language, I think, you know, you try, but like you, you know, try asking someone why they do something and just sit and listen and entertain yourself with the answers. It's almost certainly the case that those, the answer that you get back

is not gonna to be the full and complete picture and is inaccessible to you what is missing. So for example, so this, my book actually, what a lovely segway, it's the same story told over and over. It's one thing told 19 different ways, so it's called 19 ways of looking at consciousness, specifically because it's one moment told 19 different explanations as if you believed in that modern theory of consciousness. And the moment has exactly to do with your question,

which is there is a teenage girl, she had epilepsy. And when you have epilepsy, they'll try to give you a bunch of drugs, they'll try to treat it, they'll try to find the source of it, but sometimes the epilepsy is a bit mysterious and they don't know exactly where it is in the brain. And so the surgeon will have to go in and they'll drill a bunch of holes. They'll drill about like 12 to 20 holes in the brain. They'll insert electrodes. And those electrodes will, will basically be almost like seismic monitoring stations. So these electrodes will, when the seizure doesn't end up happening,

they will be able to tell the surgeon exactly where it is. And so this girl who's awake while these electrodes are implanted in her, mostly because the brain does not feel pain. So the surgeons are probing around and stimulating and they have these electrodes inside and some of them can stimulate. They can shoot out electricity and then that stimulates that part of the brain. And she ends up laughing. And they end up asking her, why did you laugh?

And she says, because you guys are just so funny standing around. And then they go around, they do more stimulation in recording, and they poke the exact same spot again, and she laughs. And they say, why did you laugh? And she said, oh, because the horse is so funny, the picture of the horse you showed me is so funny. Of course, none of these things were funny. They weren't just funnily standing around. The horse was not a funny picture of a horse. It was a very normal picture of a horse. And so what's interesting there is that she kind of confabulated, there's a specific term for that, confabulated the explanation of why.

So when you confabulate, she's making up a highly plausible but ultimately incorrect story. But there's such nuance in that moment because first of all, who are we to deny her answer? Right? We know that there's an electrode sticking out of her head and the surgeon is pushing the button on a computer with a very specific stimulation protocol that is poking her supplementary motor area, which is causing neurons in her brain to output to the muscles in her throat

to fire them in a stereotype and repeat a pattern that bounces air around the room which we call laughter. That's the answer, that's the actual answer. But maybe she found the horse funny. It's a funny thing where in order to interrogate this question, we have to deny if in order to interrogate something, you want to disprove it. In science, you want to disprove things. You never prove anything.

You want to disprove it as well and strongly as you can. We can never disprove someone's self-report. As far as I know, currently we cannot. And so ultimately, we end up with this highly compressed JPEG version of the world. How good would these new self-driving cars or these vision model, computational vision models be, if they only had to train on highly compressed, like, bitmap images of the world?

That's effectively what we're doing when we study consciousness. We're getting highly compressed bitmap images of the world through someone's language. Subject. Not to biases subject to incomplete information. There are knowledge about what happened. There are knowledge about themselves. Their prize coming in, the social pressures of the people that they're speaking to and not wanting to look silly

are stupid. The limitations of their language in terms of breadth, their awakeness, whether they've had the right amount of caffeine that day, all the way down, all the limit limit limit limit limit. Whether or not they have a mind control parasite. Whether or not they've got electrodes sticking out at the top of their head in a room with a funny horse on the wall. Well, I mean, it's interesting that you've got this situation where something happens,

which is arguably involuntary, not self, I don't really know what involuntary would mean in the version of reality we're talking about here, but it wasn't self-generated in terms of the first mover of that particular stimulus. And then there has retrospectively been a story told by the girl about why she did the thing. And there's other situations like this as well, I think, where when you show, is it people that have maybe had what's the center of the brain called when they open that up? Corpus colosum. Yeah.

When people have had the corpus colosum removed so that the brain is genuinely in two separate halves, they can do things where they show one half of the brain an image of something and then the other hand goes and picks out of a pot. And if they show them a nut, a lot of the time they'll pick a nut out. But then when they say, why did you pick the nut? It's like, I'm a massive fan of nuts.

Or yesterday my mom was talking about nuts or earlier on today I saw a billboard that was showing an image of a nut or whatever it might be. What do you think's going on there? And is that anything indicative about consciousness or its usefulness or its reason for being here? That there is this narrative sense to things. Is this sort of desire to be explanatory?

narrative sense to things, is this sort of desire to be explanatory? Yeah, I mean, I think those, those split brand procedures, which I think are still done, but only in extraordinary cases, maybe like one a year now or one a decade. It's, I mean, think about it's the profound implication of the fact that, okay, let's take a physical feature. Let's take a mountain and cut it in half. Now you have two halves of a mountain. Let's take like a cake and cut it in half. Now you have two halves of a cake that are completed, that there's nothing different about that.

Nothing emerged or nothing de-emerged. I don't know what the word, right word would be, like when you cut it in half. If you cut the earth in half, a whole chapter in this is why is it, why is there a difference between if you cut the earth in half versus if you cut a brain in half. In the earth case you get like geotachonic forces and the world would spin out of control and basically all life would die as we know it, as like the ozone got stripped and gravity got all wonky.

But if you cut a brain in half, you just get, you resolve to two independent thinking things, right? That's utterly remarkable, because it means, it means a few things just like from first principles, it means that we have more neurons than we need to be basically conscious, right? Which means all of this stuff about, oh, animals are in our conscious, because they have so many fewer neurons than us, it proves as a sufficiency condition that you do not need, you know,

a human amount of neurons in order to be conscious. And not even conscious like a human, right? You could have half, and you can still be mostly kind of, nobody can really figure out what the difference is. There's in the neurology kind of the history of neurology, there's all these cases of people having large brain disorders or traumas and themselves not even necessarily noticing. But also the doctors and people in the room and their friends and partners not even noticing something is wrong. We're not even noticing that they're different, right?

And so there's a few ways of thinking about that. One, it's saying, wow, what a remarkable piece of machinery or biological kind of goo the brain is, like the fact that it can be so malleable, you can kind of live without half a brain and you can still be a functional human and you can still think and love and write poetry and speak and all these things. I see tragedy in those in those moments because what it means to me is that we have such a deficient set of tools to access what's going on in someone else's mind. It should be the case that if someone has their minds split into two hemisphere, we should be able to know right away. Imagine some sort of futuristic device that just goes up and says, oh yeah, well your

cognition has changed in exactly this way. You are now this different. Here's what we predict would be different. As it is, we kind of like literally our language is such a poor proxy for what's going on on the inside of a head that doctors sometimes don't even notice. Well, if it's not something that's noticed by the brain owner, then presumably for all of the wondrous stuff that's going on inside of the brain mechanically, the phenomenal logical experience of having a brain and of being conscious is really all that's happening. How does this cash out in terms of the experience of the experience, have it?

And if that person is able to continue through life with the Charles Whitman brain tumour or with the railway sleepers sticking up through the top of the head and it happened to not notice or whatever. If it doesn't change functionally or phenomenologically how it feels to be that person, I do, what would that matter? Like surely the end result of consciousness is the experience of consciousness itself that surely the end result of consciousness is the experience of consciousness itself, that is the end cash out result of it. I don't know if there is anything more than that.

So yeah, maybe the alien could come around and say, well, actually, you seem to be missing a little bit of your hippocampus or whatever it might be. But if to that person their experience hasn't changed, would that even matter? Right, so that that then would give validity and priority to the subjective report, right? To be like, okay, well, that is what matters the most, which is the difficulty because we want to difficulty because we want to do that. But it seems also to be clearly the case that whatever is going on underneath, there's a lot of different ways to create consciousness.

You can miss a few. You can have a few neurons die. You can get a concussion. You know, hypothetically, you're a different person. You should be a different person if you have a few neurons die out on you, right? Hypothetically, something is different. The, you know, it's like the old ship at the theses, the planks on the ship. Do you know this identity like you take a ship and across the ocean and you replace one plank at a time, is at the same ship at the end of the day,

even though none of the planks of water the same. You can do the same, you can imagine a hypothetically similar case for neurons. So again, one of the chapters in the book is actually a kind of direct verbatim interview between myself, Christoph Koch, a prominent neuroscientist, and a friend of mine, a colleague of mine, Jonathan, who ended up passing away from a glioblastoma tumor. So he had a glioblastoma in his cerebellum. And he was a MD-PhD, so I did my PhD at Stanford.

He was an MD-PhD at Stanford and in neuroscience, and radiologist, and was working at, I think, doing his residency in radiology at Harvard when he passed away from this tumor. But before he passed away, he got a surgery to try their best to kind of carve out as much of the tumor as they could. And they removed about 20 billion neurons, 20 billion. So we have about 80, let's say we have 80 total, that's the new estimate as of

20, 22, 86 billion. Out of quarter of his brain by count, right? 20 billion. So imagine this with a ship at the ECS, you know, one plank at a time thing. You've just taken out a fourth of the ship. And he doesn't really notice a difference. He wakes up, you know, he's like, yeah, some things are different. Like it's harder for him to walk in the straight line.

It's harder for him to play piano, which he used to do as a kid. But most of these, I can't tell, everything, I think in exact quote, is he said, the me part of me is still there. Like everything is still there. And what are we supposed to do with this information as neuroscientists, right?

Like this is the crux of the reason I included it in the book is because it's equal parts maddening and fascinating, which is like, how the hell is it the case that you could take it? If you take any computer chip, if I ripped a quarter of my iPhone off, it doesn't work anymore, right? There's not even a quarter of it that I could rip off that would not fundamentally alter it. But for some reason, the brain has this either it's doing so much more than we realize and the conscious part is just such a small kind of screen that gets displayed that like you can take out so much of it and you know very little of it actually gets kind of uploaded to the screen part of things

or the screen just does its best with what it has and it just takes that as the whole thing no matter what it gets no matter what that as the whole thing, no matter what it gets. No matter what kind of gets pushed into it, no matter what input, no matter if you're a cricket or a frog or a cat or a human or a human who's missing in quarter of their brain, it gets pushed in and you have a conscious experience and it does its best and that's all you get and you from the inside will never know. And I think that's probably where we're at.

It's fascinating to think what the difference is between a brain and an iPhone. And it seems to me that the iPhone has individual discrete components that are individually completely relied upon in order for any part of the whole to be able to work. If you break the battery, then be able to work. If you break the battery, then there is no power. If you break the screen, then there is no image. If you break the processor, then there's no processing. If you break the antenna, there

is no signal, so on and so forth. But it seems like, I don't know, consciousness in the brain is maybe distributed a little bit more decentralized in some way that if you get rid of a part of it, that maybe bits can compensate or maybe they didn't need to compensate because it's sufficiently distributed that consciousness is everywhere in the brain or maybe we're not a brain at all, maybe we're an antenna that is receiving broadcast signals from something else. I think that you talk about that as well, that's a quite a popular theory that it might not be self-generated from within the brain at all. It might be receiving consciousness somehow from the ether, I don't know.

Yeah, so there are ways where it's similar and there are ways where it's different, right? So it's diffused in the sense that if you are young, if you are a kid and you get an injury or if you're born with some part of your brain missing, the brain will do its damnedest to try to kind of co-opt other parts of the brain to serve that function. So a kid born with maybe has a stroke, a neonatal stroke or something like that. Whatever function was supposed to be there will kind of get reintegrated into other parts.

But similar to the iPhone, if you have a stroke in your visual cortex as an adult, you're done, like you don't see. If you have a stroke in the language area, you're done. You don't do certain parts of language. You might be able to, there's some totally bizarre ones where like some people can still sing, you know, they can't speak, or they can, you know, there's some weird, kind of all of us, Axi and kind of anomalies. But in general, it is true that like this functional

specialization, which in the adult, which is more like the kind of set and printed iPhone, where it's like, if you break anything, you might not be able to make it back. It's just not true in the beginning, and it's so remarkable how malleable things are in the kind of early pre-critical period brain. So each of these chapters, right, so I'm telling this story of this teenage girl, who by the way, when she laughs, also experiences the subjective feeling of joy and

Murth which is part of also this interesting kind of the heart problem of consciousness I believe that like you know these physicists are over there like thousands of them under like LHC and CERN being like oh We're gonna study one particle because within this particle is the origin and secrets of all the universe if we just split it up into in the right ways or if we carefully watch with the right theories. I kind of think this this girl's story has the same multitudes contained within it like if you want you can unpack it into a lot of different really interesting things about the brain but so one of them and so but in some sense of course I can't I can't simultaneously believe all of these 19 things. So I kind of ghost writing each of the chapters from I kind of put on my journalist hat and and was like okay

if I'm a journalist writing a piece about this theory how would I tell this story? It's not necessarily mine. So one one thing I try to do is try to make my best case for that antenna. The amusing quotes, if you're anyone's listening on the radio, they're air quotes. The kind of antenna theory of consciousness, which was so funny, because so I got invited to kind of witness as a journalist a debate that was happening in India with the Dalai Lama and at their kind of outcast monastery that India had given them because they were kicked out of Tibet.

And the Dalai Lama did this thing where I guess he does this every year. He invites scientists from the West and scientists from the East to debate about the origins of the universe, like what is morality, what is, you know, he'll invite physicists, and biologists, and mathematicians,

and they'll have like a East-Fers West, you know, Yinyan kind of debate. And I get there, and the first night, the kind of team West, and this is a friendly debate, right? But team West is sitting around the table, and there's two questions that are dominating everyone. As we've just flown across the world and arrived

at this monastery in the middle of India's Oklahoma. And the questions were, is there Wi-Fi? And are we allowed to kill the mosquitoes in front of the monks? And what I thought was so funny about that was this idea that actually, according to some theories of how the brain works, those two questions are the same question or rather they're the same moral question. So think about what Wi-Fi is. Like Wi-Fi is you have a chip inside your computer, inside your router. And it is basically specifically designed to collect

a very specific kind of energy, again, not in the LA way, real talk. Sorry, I live in LA, so I have to constantly be making caveats to when I say things like, piezoelectric crystals and energy and consciousness, I made it in my way. So I mean we have these chips which are specially designed to pick up a very very thin frequency band in the electromagnetic spectrum. That is Wi-Fi. You can hit you have it for all kinds of

things, right? You have different different chips that can pick up different pieces of the invisible world that is permeating around us. And there's a very interesting theory of consciousness, which is it tends to be eastern. Or it's related to panpsychism in the sense that the idea is that consciousness permeates the world, permeates the universe. Permiates the universe. It's all around us. It's in our subatomic particles. It's everywhere. And the same way gravity is infused and all these fundamental forces in nature are infused

in particles around us and the world around us and the universe around us. And that maybe what consciousness is, what a brain is, is just kind of a little like Wi-Fi chip, but for the consciousness, right? It's like a physical, structured piece of reality. You organize matter in a certain way. And once you do that, it can pick up a very narrow band of the electromagnetic spectrum of things floating around us, right?

And so I just thought it was really hilarious that the answer was no, we were not allowed to kill the flies, the mosquitoes. But what's funny is nobody cares if you smash a router. But I don't see them as any different. I see the mosquitoes running around in a mutant cell to me. I don't think it's conscious. I don't know, but some people there do.

Very prominent neuroscientists, I disagree with them. That, though, is again, if it's a 1000 AD, I don you know, I just disagree with them. And that though is, again, if it's a thousand AD, I don't know if I'm right, I could be one of the astronomers looking up at the sky just totally wrong, right? But we're all kind of pitting our theories against each other in the way, but we're still all pre-compernicus, pre-Galayo. We don't even have a telescope yet, is the problem. What do you think it's like for animals that can go to sleep with one half of their brain at a time?

I'm pretty sure flamingos can do this. I think you're confusing. Do they stand on their legs? They stand on their leg, is that the same thing? I don't know. I don't know. Someone is going to correct us, don't worry. The internet will correct us on this. So so many migrating birds can do it,

because they have to sometimes sleep while they're still in the air. They don't land for a while. I don't know if flamingos migrate. I don't know enough about them. Okay. But what do you think it's like? What do you think the experience of having half of your brain asleep is like? I have experienced this.

I have chronic insomnia, and I feel like sometimes when I walk around the world like a zombie that I'm half asleep, I so when I find very interesting that even so okay so an interesting tangent would be why is it different or is it different than what we were talking about earlier of the splitting the brain done that line, right? Like, is it actually very similar to those split brain patients in terms of phenomenology, in terms of what they're experiencing? In which case, you know, it doesn't really feel like anything. It just kind of feels like you're,

I can't explain, I'm using stupid JPEG compression to try to explain. This whole thing is JPEain compression of thoughts, right? So, one thing though that any theory of consciousness should have to explain is, like, the few moments as you wake up from sleep, which are sometimes confusing and jarring. The way that I think about it is kind of like my brain is like a town and during sleep it like all the electricity goes out even though that's a terrible analogy. But just imagine it like consciousness you know the electricity goes out. But that it's slowly powered up like one house at a time and one neighborhood at a time and it takes me like four hours

to basically like turn the lights on again. But the question which I think is analogous or maybe similar to yours is kind of like how is it the case that a brain can just do that can like slowly wake up like one neighborhood at a time, one brain region at a time. And I feel it kind of like I'm less there. I feel like a little bit less capable of maybe some kinds of thought or thinking. But I'm still conscious the entire time as each of my little houses and neighborhoods power themselves back up.

And so I imagine if you're one of these whales, I know whales can definitely sleep with one hemisphere, a certain migratory birds. I think the sea lion, or the sea otter, some mammal that goes back and forth between land and water. When they sleep on land, they sleep in both hemispheres and when they sleep in the water, they use only one, which I think is a totally unexplained bizarre

someone should figure that out. But so, I don't know. It's probably like all of these neurological case reports are reporting where the person just doesn't know the difference. You know, we have a lot of variation throughout the day. We can be hungry, we can be tired, we can be undercaffeinated, we can be overcaffeinated, we can be cranky. All of these things are totally different subjective states. And they are, it's very normal for us to describe them in terms of underlying metabolism or biology. For example, people get cranky when they're hungry. This is a thing.

It's common phenomenon. What that means is, like, that means that consciousness is so fragile. And our sense of self and our sense of priority and preferences and is so fragile that something so silly can completely change what we pay attention to. So now we're going to start to pay attention to food, signals and signs in the world. We're going to add like our sense of smell will coordinate and rearrange to be about food. You know, like we desire these things and our entire perceptual apparatus kind of shifts to making more likely to extract that thing from the world we desire. That means that consciousness is this really dynamic and

really fragile thing. People, there's this whole trend these days to talk about psychedelics and what they do and how they're the window into the sea to the soul and they're going to change everything. But it's like, I don't understand why actually just being tired isn't just as subject as interesting as the question about the phenomenology of consciousness as seeing skulls in the IV because you took too many mushrooms. It's the same, things are being perturbed, and they're being perturbed in a matter of degree, not kind. And so, like, I think there's clues everywhere. We just have to kind of catalog them. I agree. I think one of the reasons that people are more interested in the mushrooms is that it's

significantly more enjoyable than permanently being tired, which I imagine if you've ever taken mushrooms, it sounds like you're tired quite a bit, so you'll probably be able to compare the two. But yeah, there's... I always think about this to do with the show because you'll be episode 550 something on this podcast. Congratulations. Thank you. Very illustrious, a few years. And what I get to do every single time that I sit down and have a conversation with someone is I get to stress test the capacity of my verbal agility, right? Now there's other ways, other types of knowing, other ways that I might be yesterday played a fantastic game of pickleball. Can't really tell you why, but on other days I play a bad game of pickleball.

Is that still IQ? Well, yeah, it's also a body blah, blah, blah. Anyway, as far as I can see it, doing the podcast is as close to a health check fitness test type scenario for where's my brain at at the moment? How did I sleep? How hydrated am I? What was my nutrition like?

All of the contributing factors, how stressed, how blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, all that stuff. And observing that really, really closely over the last five years of doing this has been super fascinating to me, seeing just what can change the different capacities. Can I increase the engine size? Can I press down harder on the accelerator? Like, can I apply more cognitive effort in order to be better if I apply too much effort? Does that make me worse? Are there things that I can do in terms of skills that I can acquire that can actually raise the ceiling of the maximum of where I can get to? Are there things I can do acutely to be able to give me boosts over the short term? Well, caffeine dosage and sleep, all that stuff. And that has been

a really enjoyable and insightful experience, just going through the varying mental states of what happens if I do this, what happens if I do that, how does my verbal agility, my dexterity, my recall, my vocabulary, all of that stuff change based on what I do. If I warm up before, if I speak to my housemate for 30 minutes before I begin, what does that do? Why is there this sort of momentum thing that seems to happen when I'm speaking? That you actually seem to get better over time, and when does that start to drop off? And is that because of fatigue? Is that because of boredom? What happens if you change the subject?

All of these different things, not exclusively due to consciousness, because you're saying words, hopefully, that represents something cogent about a topic. So you actually need to have some degree of expertise or insight about whatever it is you're talking about. But then there's a, basically, a below that of, like, the nuts and bolts of having a conversation and of being there and of talking in a manner that is, like, well timed and resonates with brevity and precision and stuff. And that's been really interesting. That's been my little laboratory that I've been playing about. And did you do the preparatory speaking with someone? So what's funny is I haven't spoken to someone

like used words in 24 hours. There's definitely not this morning, right? I've a bachelor alone in my little L.A. apartment. And I actually thought to myself, oh shoot, I have an interview today. I literally haven't spoken at all. So what I did was actually, I have to give a talk tomorrow and I recorded my talk over and over, not because I needed to, but it actually just to get in kind of the cadence and rhythm of speech and speaking.

And I have no idea why is that the equivalent of stretching, you know, is that the equivalent of before a match? Like I don't really understand why, but I have found similarly that if I don't speak for a while, I just lose the ability so quickly, like so remarkably quickly that it actually bothers, it's what kind of bothers me. My speech in Diction Coach Miles will be able to give us an answer.

I'm sure he's got me doing a vocal warm up that my housemate is very familiar with as I go through different tongue twisters and stuff like that. So there is something functional that you're doing to the physiology of the voice box of the tongue, the tongue unbelievably complex little bit of kit that you need to actually genuinely get going. There is kind of a warm up procedure. But there's something else as well a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of out, there was no nightclubs, no nothing else. We observed Shabbat on the Friday night. We went to an Asian spa and a bunch of the guys got Asian scrub, completely naked Asian scrubs. And then on the Saturday night we did a Jeffersonian dinner with 26 dudes, a non-typical bachelor party to say the least. But what I noticed, because there was less debauchery than I might be used to at these events I was talking in awful lot and after you get into a rhythm after a while your brain is just firing on all cylinders

What's going on there? Yeah, what? What? If you told me to run, if you told me to run for three hours, I wouldn't I wouldn't want to continue running I would I would be dead If you tell me to speak for three hours hour four, I'm like bring it on. I got this I got this in the tank and everything's firing and all of the ideas are big and oh very strange Yes, so it immediately makes me think I wonder what would happen with those these language robots the language models that are now all

popular right GVT and and and Google's one where they're able to produce texts. Like, you know, to all this debate and question about whether or not they're like us at all. If so, they would also have to have that effect, right? Like, what if one of these language robots, we encourage it to speak so, so much that it just gets into this manic high and just never shuts up? Oh, you can program in bold them as well.

You could. Yes. To get to get your hitchhikers, the Marvin robot. So I think about this a little bit, right? I mean, every, every physical sport at high performance has warm up. And we maybe simply believe that it has something to do with the, you know, lumberness or stretching or getting the physiology prepared. But the brain is also a physiology machine, right?

I mean, it is also responsive to the physiology in the state of the body. So what I wonder, it would be like... So, okay. One thing that I found really fascinating with language and conversation, and it's kind of one of these key windows into how the brain actually works under the hood, is you can end a sentence with something very surprising. So if like, as I'm speaking right now,

you in your brain, you are coming up with a probabilistic model for the likelihood of how I'm going to end up finishing the sentence. I was probably going to finish that sentence with the word sentence, right? And look, I did it again. And if I were to finish it with unicorn or some other word that was completely and utterly surprising,

which if my brain were firing in a more cylinders, I would probably do as a live example, but I can't right now, even though I have no idea which words I'm choosing, it feels really hard for me to actually go completely orthogonally and to pick a random word out of the dictionary. The very fact that we can actually detect traces, so if we had an EEG on your head, as you listen to me speak, and as soon as you got to that surprising word, a couple hundred milliseconds afterwards, your brain would register an error.

And I don't know if there's work done on whether or not if you warm up you're more likely to register that error, but my guess is actually that in order to generate speech you have to listen to yourself speak and you're having to predict and basically play the game of how to finish a sentence so as to not be surprising. And that is both a listening task and a generating task. So when you're generating speech, you're also listening. And you're having to cancel out the exact kind of speech patterns that you make in a very odd and interesting way. You know, your voice sounds different to you partly because when you hear it recorded versus what it's like on the inside of your head, yeah, there's some bone connection through the jaw and all that physical stuff.

But it's also the case that every single thing you say because it's a motor act, your brain is also cancelling out the consequences of that motor act as it sends it to the sensory parts of the brain. So it sends different in part because when you hear your own voice, you're not getting that copy anymore. A copy that your brain is sending. So your brain, it's kind of like a carbon copy on a check, right? Like when your brain is engaging in a motor output, it will send one copy to the muscles and another copy to the sensory parts of your brain being like, Hey, look, I'm about to move in this one direction. Don't be surprised when I do. This is the whole reason the world looks stable when we move our head around and dash our eyes back and forth three times a second. The only way that works is because your brain knows exactly

where that movement is about to be. It's constantly living in a few hundred milliseconds in the future. And so I would guess that the reason talking before doing these interviews helps is you're not just preparing the muscles, you're preparing the whole apparatus of prediction and surprise and kind of word completion. These language robots that people think are sent to youient or similar to human speech, they're just long if statements and they do not have surprise in that way. You could probably build in statistical surprise, but they're kind of doing the fill-in, they're kind of like elaborate madlibs versions of language, which doesn't have the context and capacity that the human brain does to understand the surprise.

And that's something that, you know, we're going to need AGI to get there. We're going to, it's so much harder to make. So for example, it's easy to make a language robot. Well, now it is. It is, I challenge anyone in that field to make a robot that feels staircase with. That leaves the party still simulating what it could have or should have said. And when it comes up with what it believes to be the cleverest one feels bad. When a language robot does that, I will officially vote sentient. But until then, these are just if statements.

I like that as the judgment of whether or not we've reached AGI sentience. What about the pinball machine analogy? What's that? Yeah. You can make that the modified Turing test. Patrick's modified Turing test. Patrick's modified Turing test. The robot doesn't have to convince you That it's a linguistic, you know of its linguistic ability has to feel bad that it the conversation went poorly Yeah, so another

Another one of the chapters. Thank you Is so So there's this analogy that I heard, which many neuroscientists in the field is some colleague share, which is a very good one, which is that when people try to understand why the human brain in its modern form and its current form has some quirks, one of the best ways to think about it is to think about it like a power station. So imagine you're trying to make, you know, you have a water wheel in the 1700s. I don't know when it happened. And so you have this power generation, electricity being generated by the moment of water.

And then you go through all of the technological step changes. You have steam engine, then you start to burn coal, then suddenly you have nuclear, then you have solar power, and suddenly you have some sort of like AI natural gas hybrid grid. You know, like our energy pipelines and our kind of power stations have evolved with new technologies. But imagine the human brain is the equivalent of effectively like starting with a power station and then never being able to turn it off, as you had to evolve and add on all of these other kinds of ways of generating power. So if you can imagine like an old water wheel that we then threw a solar panel on and tried

to connect with like pneumatic tubes and made it a steam engine for a while and had to make a furnace to shovel coal into it. And then ultimately had to stick like a nuclear reactor on top of it or nearby. And these things are all still together because you can never, ever, ever turn it off. You had to keep the energy running. You had to keep the town powered. That's what we are. That's what a mammalian brain is. It's this like, you know, we've never been able to turn off from that single cell three billion years ago. That was the original power station and 3 billion years later we're still running. And so that's the kind of analogy to your neuroscience, that's the common one. And I was thinking about it and I think

it's a very good analogy for a physicist. It's a very good analogy from a physicist to understand the kind of biomechanics of how it frameworks. But it's missing something crucial which is that at some point we became subject we subjectivity came on came online and and so I was trying to think like okay if I were to tell this story again what would I how would I retell it and I actually think that the evolution of the game of pinball is the most most most reflects a metaphorical mapping into the evolution of the human brain. And the reason is two reasons. One, I was so fascinated. I played this digital virtual pinball like in the mid 90s, like 95 it came with some pinball thing right and so now you have the entirety of the virtual universe you can you can create anything you can software you know the software can

design anything any any any kind of thing you want and yet still they made it have like tilt right tilt is a thing that pinball machines evolved because they were too expensive and you didn't want people just like smashing them around. The virtual version does not need tilt. You could completely eliminate that rule set. But there is this legacy issue of, ah, pinball has been around for a while, people are familiar with tilt. Let's keep it in. Let's keep it in the bells and whistles and sights and sounds of the physical world and try to virtualize it. And I went back and looked at the history of pinball and it turns out it has like these lovely analogues to the evolution of kind of bilateria and biological systems, which is like it started as one thing

and then slowly it became more and more of something that you could control. So it started as literally you just put a ball at the top of the incline and then you just hope and bet on where it ends up. You have no power over it. You have no way to exert any force. And then eventually, it becomes a little bit of a bigger thing. And then people started to move it around to kind of like force the fate that they most wanted.

And then it had to evolve the tilt mechanism to prevent that from happening. And then flippers came along and those flippers meant that you could control your fate instead of just be like washed around by the current. And then it eventually had to combine this like the physical mechanics of the pinball machine with physical flippers in a real ball, which is subject to inertia. And like Mike DeBree that we can't even see which changes its route. So you can never kind of hit the same shot twice. And then on top of that it added

this like electronic layer, right? As pinball evolved through the 20th century, it added this electronic layer of bells and whistles and lights and eventually there's this funny thing where basically pinball was about to die out because the world was becoming more interesting. Like Hollywood was ascending and pong had happened and suddenly there was a virtual world that was much more compelling than this silly game of throwing a, you know, silver sphere on an incline and leaving it up to fate. And there was this moment, I think I think the game

is called high speed, which the pinball designers were like, you know what we maybe could do is we could we could make it not that your your ball is something separate from you, which is just trying to accumulate points. But what if we made some narrative around it such that it seemed as if you were playing as the ball. And you as the ball had a goal. And the high speed was just a game where you had to run from some police. It was like GTA, it was the original GTA Grand Theft Auto. And this game became a sensation. And it was in part because suddenly it became story.

It became story telling. And there was through nothing, nothing was added except this narrative. And suddenly you weren't playing pinball, you weren't playing pinball as you, you were playing pinball as the ball. And to our earlier question about this narrative and the need for narrative in the human brain and how we're all just stories. I found that to be like a really nice analogy to the kind of biological evolution of organisms, which is to say they started out without a story, with no storytelling device. And then at some point they learned to gain control over their own fate, you know, hands,

flippers, the little silly that you were talking about earlier, which uses to say gradient, to choose to go one way or the other. That's like the flipper. And then we had literal flippers. And then we became story. And then we had to combine the physical part with the electrical part as neurons figured out how to keep charge on one side of their membrane.

And then we became, you know, maybe one day will become virtual like the Windows 95 version of it. So I actually like basically I just I just think pinball tells the the history of the evolution of a pinball machine tells the story of biology in a really interesting way You've continued to build throughout the evolution of our brain this unbroken lineage from whatever that first single cell organism was has continued to add in features. And it's had to, it's had to work out a way to add in something which is adaptive to the new environment that this creature finds itself in or the way that the local ecology has changed or whatever. But it's difficult to get rid of the existing thing because all of the changes occur very slowly. If you were to go

from single cell and what it had to human and what we have, you would retain very little, you would change an awful lot, but it's been iterative over time. Does that suggest that brains have never lost any functionality then? Yeah, that's interesting. So we would have to be more specific in the way of re-frame the question. So human brains, because it is certainly the case that, for example, I'm just thinking of a very basic, there's some salamander that lived in a cave and lost its eyes, right? It just evolved out, like there was no light in there and it just didn't need eyes anymore. And so it just slowly became blind. Like the whole species is now blind. So that organisms brain has significantly changed, it lost a function. But this is a kind of nuanced, I'm about to make a

nuanced statement which I don't even know, which I don't even know is, which I don't even know if it's completely accurate. And it's pretty broad. I kind of have to amorphize this evolution as if it's a thing. I don't think evolution by natural selection cares whether or not it gains or loses a function with any passing iteration. function with any passing iteration. I think a large amount, I mean, we used to have a tail, right? We don't have tails anymore. I think about this sometimes in terms of, I think there was some time I almost slipped in the shower, and I think as I was catching myself on the curtain, I thought to myself, God damn, I wish I had a tail, which would have been really useful then to catch me from falling as it is for all the monkeys and all the treaties, right?

And then I started to think about, this is what I, this is perhaps why I live alone. And then I started to think about, like, what is it like to control a tail? What is the experience of a primate that has a tail sticking out its back? You can't see it, right? So like, how do you know to use it to latch around something? It feels like actually a very subconscious or unconscious thing that they must be doing. They must kind of have some awareness of the tail behind them and what a Canon cannot do and the fact that it could or could not grab certain things if you're falling or if you need stability or something. But then the question is how does it think about or control?

How does a monkey think about or control its tail? Consciously, if all it is is this kind of a appendage in or behind us that you never really get the visual or appropriate receptive feedback for. And my conclusion, based on nothing, was that maybe this is what it's like to be some kinds of kind of lesser animals on the evolutionary spectrum. So smaller animals that might not be mammals, like an octopus or something.

Maybe it's as dark to them, subjectively on the inside of their head, as it would be to us as primates, being able to control a tail that we no longer have. And maybe it's just all that, right? Maybe the whole thing is that. Maybe the whole thing is this darkness where it feels like they can do some things. They have some motor computation going on about what they can and cannot do in their media environment, but fundamentally the whole thing, the whole

Sinerama is Darkness is unconscious, but so they would still look as if they're acting in behaving and going around and moving around the world, but there's kind of nothing that the lights aren't on on the inside. And so just very simply to the, like we've lost the ability to control the tail. So that means our brains are functionally kind of different than they used to be even a couple hundred thousand or a million years ago. So yeah, I don't think evolution cares whether or not it's a game. We think of gain as good and loss as bad, but evolution doesn't care.

It just wants you to go. Yes, and I suppose that we're now in an environment which is very, very, very quickly changing to the point where evolution amongst humans at the moment is going to be incredibly difficult to optimize for in any case. You go one generation to another generation and all of the things that you optimize for within the last mutation is now no longer viable. Completely pointless.

You know, when the bicycle, I was learning about how the bicycle got invented and it liberated a lot of women because women were able to go out without a chaperone which would have been something that would have been catastrophic in Victorian Britain. But now they had a bicycle and they could just cycle around. And you think, okay, well, now we're going to adapt people to bicycle riding. You go, well, within

four generations of that, everybody's got a car. So there's not going to work. What about your favorite or the most exotic explanation that you looked at for the book when it comes to consciousness? Which one was the wildest or your favorite? Yeah, that's a good question. I mean, I think the wildest barman, if you ring choice voted across all neuroscientists

is the penrose hemeroff work or are theory, which is the kind of, so nobody's come up with a good explanation, right? Nobody has one. So it's kind of fun that like theories get to find, get their heyday, they get to stand up on stage and give their speech. Because we don't really have disconfirming evidence, it's pretty hard. And one of the thorny pieces of this is we do not know how to describe, we do not know how to describe in physical terms why the brain is not determined. Why it's not the case that like the little pinball at the top that it gets pushed and it just ends up there and it will always end up there because that's fate and that's physics.

Determinism would say your brain is also just tens of trillions of tenable pinballs that are called protons bouncing around and no matter what you do you're going to end up in the same place you started. We still don't know how to get around that. So you get to do all kinds of wacky things to explain that. And I say wacky in the kindest way, which is there's this theory that basically down, you need in order to kind of harness, as you might say, in oil field, you want to dredge out free will from under like a, you

know, there's veins of free will in the universe. And we're consciousness and we're the brain and we're evolution to tap into every one of its possible resources. It would at some point. I mean, if you think about it, like, I find it absolutely remarkable and kind of under appreciated fact that every single time we discover something fancy about the world. So when we discovered electricity, you know, a couple hundred years ago, when we discovered steam and thermodynamics, when we discovered quantum quantum stuff, when we discovered deep learning, we then look in the brain and it turns out the brain is already doing it. And that's not just because we're treating it metaphorically. Like there are thermodynamics,

the brain is closed, well not closed, but it's a thermodynamic system, heat matters, temperature matters, a huge amount for enzyme kinetics, right? So the steam theory it's there, you know our brains are not like computers, but God damn, they are very similar in terms of that kind of learning mechanism. It's exquisite. But so here's what you can do is you can extrapolate further into the future, which is to say, well, every single time, you know, like before we understood gravity, our muscles, and our brains were computing approximately 9.8 seconds per meter squared of what gravity is anytime you catch a ball You're having to compute the arc in the trajectory of the thing with very complicated kind of eye and brain and history experience and all this To a proxy if the fact that a baseball player can catch you know, well hit pop fly that brain is computing something very close to 9.8

It's just per second squared with gravity. It understood gravity well hit pop fly. That brain is computing something very close to 9.8.8. It's just per second squared, which is gravity. It understood gravity, right? The brain understood air quotes, gravity, long before Newton. It understood and was using electricity long before Benjamin Franklin. I just got to jump in there Patrick. Can you imagine what it would be like for humans to play a game of baseball on a planet that had double the gravity or half of the gravity, and you would be there and you would throw the ball towards someone and all of the parabolic lines that you had planned

for about where it was going to go, and your gloves down and then you take it straight in the face, or it drops half the distance or a quarter of the distance from where you would, I was just imagining that as you were talking, being on a different planet and someone throws the ball and you go, I'm starting again here. In fact, worse than starting again, I'm gonna guess that I need to unlearn everything I've learned,

D-program, whatever genetic predisposition we have to 9.68 meters per second squared. And then I have, I've got to learn Mars gravity or Saturn gravity or whatever it is. For very strange reasons involving kind of a patrilineal astrangement, I have been playing golf since I was a kid. Since I was like three, I did the whole tiger thing. I mean he did it first, but I did it, you know, before it was cool to like train a three year old, I was taking lessons at three. I cannot conceive of a visceral intellectual and emotional joy greater than being able to hit a golf ball on the moon. Like, like, I don't know which astronaut it was, the one of them did that.

I can think of nothing I would enjoy more because it is so horrifying to do your best and hit the perfect shot and just have the ball just kind of go, you know, like even if it's 300 yards away, even if it's a great well-struck ball for our Earth gravity. It's still like, it's mostly heading down. You know, it's mostly, you see the defeat. You can see the defeat in a couple seconds. You want to be a 1500 yards average. I can hit it to the moon. Yeah, from the moon to Earth and get a whole new bet. I can only imagine though, and what I mean by that is, you know, what I was saying earlier about the surprise throughout a conversation, if you totally surprise the brain and finish

the sentence with a new word, you brain detects that because it's like, oh, wait a second, that's new, that's different, let's learn from that, hold on, pause. I would just do it once, I would just hit a golf ball in the moon once because I believe that my joy would be proportional to the amount of surprise my brain would have. And it would be like holy shit, you just hit a 15, I'm like, how did you, you know, because it would still, of course, most of it, the unconscious parts would think it was still on earth. I would be expecting that slightly shitty 240 yard fade that you usually exactly exactly

so I would do it just for that surprise I can't wait for there to be like space tourism so I can go do that before I die. So exotic penrose seeking the rivers of free will in amongst the determinism the exterior line of our brain is now no longer where thermodynamics finishes and ends, where does it actually end up happening? What do penrose have to say? Right, thank you. So basically, the remarkable thing about that set of facts that the brain is always doing something, no matter what we discover, the brain is already doing it. Would be, okay, well, what are we going to discover in the future that we determine, we figure out the brain is already doing, right?

We're not done. We're not done with science. We're not done. Physics isn't done. Biology isn't done. So, at some point in the future, we're going to discover some mechanism by which the universe works. And it will almost certainly be the case that if it was accessible to a biological system,

evolution would have found it tapped into it and exploited it. And so Penrose and Amaroth, who's an anesthesiologist and Penrose, of course, the theoretical physicist, they have this idea that down in the smallest of the atomic pieces, so I guess not quite atomic yet, but there are microtubules that are kind of the atomic pieces, so I guess not quite atomic yet, but there are microtubules that are kind of the rebar of each individual cell. They're the structure, the matrix upon which a cell

forms its solidity and its shape, and that there's a tiny kind of almost like a water slide of almost like a water slide in the middle of each of these mycotubules. And inside there you have the only possible chance. That is where, if you're going to have a vein of free will, if you're going to have a vein of quantum uncertainty, which is where they believe free will will come. That's the crude oil of free well to this theory. That it's being mined effectively from inside of these microtubules, of which there are probably thousands of trillions in any given human brain. I mean, these are the things there's probably, I don't know my orders of magnitude, but there's a lot of them in any individual neuron multiplied by 86 billion. And that's so basically this theory would say that when we discover that inside of that tiny little

space, and it's a special space according to quantum physics, where basically it's too hot and too messy and too noisy to do anything bigger at bigger scales. So it's the only scale at which you might conceivably be able to tap into quantum indeterminacy, which just means whether or not a particle is one way or the other or its position. So it's like a, I would say it's a beautiful theory and what it does, though, is basically take two unknowns and combine them, right? It says, we don't know about quantum physics and we don't know about consciousness. Let's take the parts that we don't know and overlap them and call that a theory. So, if you were to find fault with it as many have, you know, it's basically, that would be both the kind of pro and the con of believing in that theory.

But we're not there yet. But, you know, when we say we're not there yet, it's simply the case that, we still have a lot of work to do, right? Like we still don't even have a Galileo. We still don't even have a new Patrick House, ladies and gentlemen. If people want to keep up to date with the stuff that you do online, where should they go? Patrick House.com, I suppose, and on Twitter somewhere, but I haven't quite figured out how to get over it.

How to get over doing anything more than retweeting. And 19 ways to look at consciousness will be linked in the show notes below as well. Great, great, great, great. Yeah, book 19 ways of looking at consciousness, not in the LA way, subtitled not in the LA way. Patrick, I appreciate you. Thank you. you. Alright thank you very much. Bye. you