Human Cognition - Experience

All of reality is relative. 

In his book “Three Roads to Quantum Gravity”, Lee Smolin introduces a simple maxim: there is nothing outside the universe. Such a statement can only be made if the definition of “universe” includes all things that exist. As simple as this statement is, it has astounding implications. If there is nothing outside the universe, then everything in it can only be defined in terms of the other objects in the universe.

Assume there is only one object in the universe, the smallest of all particles. There is nothing else, no person to see the particle. There is no measurement scale by which it can be said "the particle is five feet long", or "is blue", or that it even "exists". According to Niels Bohr, the father of quantum theory, "Isolated material particles are abstractions; their properties are definable and observable only through their interactions with other systems". Therefore, the only way to describe something is to say “it is like something else”.

Assume that you measure the particle with a ruler and get a reading of “one foot”. Now assume that you and the ruler shrink by 50% and that the particle, for reasons that are not important, does not shrink. What is the length of the particle? If you answered “two feet”, then you are correct. Its length, which should be innate and unvarying, has been modified. In fact, objects do not have built-in, unvarying properties at all. It is only through interaction with the rest of the universe that their properties get "tied-down" to final values. It is as though objects are initially multi-valued, and their final values are selected by the universe. This is called “superpositioning” in quantum theory.

What is most fascinating about the relative nature of reality is the common denominator in both assumptions, the observer. If there isn't an observer, then objects don't have properties, just possible properties and values. The act of conscious observation actually changes the nature of space-time geometry and causes waves of energy to collapse or reduce into particles. In effect, the brain’s experience with reality changes the nature of reality. The dual-slit experiment (see the video in the comments section) proves that this is the case.

How conscious observation of reality alters the nature of reality can only be explained at the quantum level. Albert Einstein struggled with the notion that observation changes waves of energy into particles. His Theory of General Relativity concluded that space and time were relative, but the physical universe was objective. He argued that quantum theory did not capture the true nature of everything with his famous question, “Is the Moon there when nobody looks at it?” Yet when confronted with the results of the dual-slit experiment he conceded, “Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.” Einstein spent the last twenty years of his life at Princeton struggling with a way to unify quantum theory and general relativity. He was unsuccessful. The “Theory of Everything”, as it is called, still eludes us. (We will explore current thinking in the area later when we discuss The Quantum Mind.)

All of experience is subjective.

David Chalmers opened his famous paper, “The Puzzle of Conscious Experience” with the following:

“Conscious experience is at once the most familiar thing in the world and the most mysterious. There is nothing we know about more directly than consciousness, but it is extraordinarily hard to reconcile it with everything else we know. Why does it exist? What does it do? How could it possibly arise from neural processes in the brain? These questions are among the most intriguing in all of science.

From an objective viewpoint, the brain is relatively comprehensible. When you look at this page, there is a whir of processing: photons strike your retina, electrical signals are passed up your optic nerve and between different areas of your brain, and eventually you might respond with a smile, a perplexed frown or a remark. But there is also a subjective aspect. When you look at the page, you are conscious of it, directly experiencing the images and words as part of your private, mental life. You have vivid impressions of colored flowers and vibrant sky. At the same time, you may be feeling some emotions and forming some thoughts. Together such experiences make up consciousness: the subjective, inner life of the mind.”

In "What is it Like to Be a Bat?”, Thomas Nagel argues that consciousness has a subjective character, a “what it is like” aspect. He states that "an organism has a conscious mental state if and only if there is something that it is like to be that organism—something it is like for the organism." As an example, bats are apparently conscious mammals with a way of perceiving their environment entirely different from that of humans. It is, therefore, possible to speak of "what is it like to be a bat for the bat". All conscious species have a unique point of view from which no other organism can gather experience.

This subjectivity of perception implies that perception of all of the things, concepts, and "truths" in the universe differ between individuals. Taking this thought process a step further, Nagel thinks that humans, owing to their capacity to reason, instinctively seeks a unified world view. However, if this aspiration leads one to believe that there is only one way to understand our intellectual commitments, whether about the external world, knowledge, or what our practical and moral reasons ought to be, they are in error. For contingent, limited and finite creatures, no such unified world view is possible. We all live in our own different universes. We may share common experiences, but our physical make ups are slightly different. We all have unique DNA, prior experiences, and collective memories. Our skin, eyes, ears, tongues and noses are uniquely our own. While we may have empathy for another person’s feelings, beliefs or desires; we will never know for certain how that person really feels, believes, or truly desires. There is a subjective nature in all experience.

In the fall of his 16th year, Alph’s grandmother, Ra, died. She had been sick all summer. She knew she was dying. During her finals days, she spent a lot of time sharing her thoughts and beliefs with Alph and her other grandchildren. She talked about the joy of being the clan’s Shaman and what it was like to see the emotion rise up from the clan in the fertility ceremonies. These events pleased the Mother Goddess. She talked about the relationship between the animals and the clan. All animals had an equal right to survive. The clan was part of nature, both hunters and hunted. She talked at length about her own life, and that her daughters’ children were the future of the tribe. She was not afraid of death. She believed that she would take her place next to the Mother Goddess.

Ra passed in her sleep. Even though it had been expected, there was an anguish that swept the camp. The cries of loss filled the air. The women huddled together and chanted. The men that didn’t go out to hunt that day sat and talked of her greatness and how they had been blessed by her love. The children cried. Alph cried too. He had loved his grandmother more than anything else. She had been his mentor, his strength. He was at a loss for what to do.

Late in the morning, the women began preparing Ra for her transformation. They bathed her and placed her favorite necklace around her neck. They crushed leaves of clove and basil and sprinkled her with the fragrance. The men prepared the ground for Ra’s resting place. They laid her naked body in the earth.

It was a quiet ceremony. As they chanted and cried, Mum took the red ochre and mixed it with water. She dipped her fingers in the color and whispered her love for her mother as she painted the old Shaman’s face and arms. Flowers were spread around her body. Alph laid a special one next to her heart. Ra was ready to be received.

That night, Alph dreamed of spirits. When he awoke the next morning, he immediately told Mum that he had heard the Mother Goddess tell him that Ra was home. Mum smiled and held Alph in her arms. She told him how proud she was of him. As they hugged, she whispered that Ra had named her the new clan Shaman before she had passed on. She had also asked that Alph be Mum's assistant. A sense of quiet peace filled their tent as they hugged even tighter