Tricycle Magazine: The Buddhist Review offers wisdom, meditation, and practices from an ancient tradition for contemporary life. In Spring 2014, it featured an interview with the cultural critic Curtis White, whose book The Science Delusion: Asking the Big Questions in a Culture of Easy Answers, a follow-up to his 2003 international bestseller The Middle Mind: Why Americans Don’t Think For Themselves, attacks the ideology of scientism, or “the claim that science has got the world nailed down (or soon will, anyway), that the answer to all of our human problems lies in the discovery of natural laws, or that submitting to a scientific perspective is a choiceless imperative dictated by impersonal facts.” A response to Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion, The Science Delusion argues that STEM disciplines have taken over our narrative of what it means to be human, reducing us to functions within systems. “Neuroscience’s claim to be able to understand meditation in terms of the mechanics of neurons and chemicals is another example of ideological storytelling,” White says. “You can have Buddhism, this story goes, as long as you are willing to acknowledge that it can be best understood through neuroscience.” He warns agains the appropriation of scientific ideas for the benefit of corporate culture, such as the Search Inside Yourself program at Google, making people believe that their prisons are pleasure domes.
Over at Nautilus, there is a long piece by Jonathon Keats titled “When Photographers are Neuroscientists.” Keats, the experimental philosopher and conceptual artist, author of the book Forged: Why the Fakes are the Great Art of Our Age, tells the story of the photographers Elena Dorfman, David Hockney, and Weegee, whose work illustrates contradiction and uncertainty in how the brain handles visual information. Citing an influential 2004 neuroaesthetics paper by Semir Zeki, which defines the experience of ambiguity in the brain as the “certainty of many, equally plausible interpretations,” Keats goes on to celebrate photography as an expressive medium. The name of the author is meaningful; the poet John Keats coined the term negative capability, “when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.” The photographers highlighted in the essay each manipulated their negatives, creating innovative visions of the world that opened up the minds of their viewers to the possibility of different realities.
The Brain Science Podcast is a great resource for conversations about philosophy of mind. Recently, I listened to a podcast with Evan Thompson, whose book Waking, Dreaming, Being weaves neuroscience, meditation, and Indian and Western intellectual traditions to investigate consciousness and the sense of self. Previous episodes have featured Patricia Churchland on neurophilosophy, Thomas Metzinger on the ego tunnel, and Alva Noë on his book Out of Our Heads. Check out the over 100 episodes, hosted by Dr. Ginger Campbell.
The Los Angeles Review of Books has a review of the new book by philosopher of mind John Searle. Building on his 1983 classic Intentionality, Seeing Things As They Are, argues for perception as a form of direct realism. “The central claim of direct realism,” the critic John Armstrong writes, “is that perception puts the external world into contact with the subjective one.” Searle looks to visual science for his theoretical process; our sensory receptors sense light rays, which are processed by a module in our brain, which generates a perceptual representation with content. This perceptual representation is encoded as either accurate or inaccurate, based on the initial information from the outside world. According to Searle, perception is different from other mental states because its representations created with objective data, without subjective intervention. I am always wary of the word realism, which we use as an absolute but is always masquerading as an adjective. Nevertheless, Searle is an important thinker, to say the least, and this book offers an exciting new theory for neuroscience and philosophy fans to behold.
The new film Inside Out from Disney/Pixar claims to be inspired by neuroscience. The “major emotion picture” is about the mental life of an 11-year-old girl, Riley (based on the daughter of writer/director Pete Docter). Joy, sadness, anger, fear, and disgust operate a control panel that dictates her behavior. In an elaborate, Willy Wonka-esque system, memories are colored with feeling, keyed into a core formation, stored on long-term shelves, or dropped into the abyss of the unconscious. “Personality islands” float in the sky, and experiences strengthen these floating monuments to personhood. Characters scrounge through heaps in Imagination Land and an especially deconstructive jaunt through Abstract Thought. In no way doctrinaire, Inside Out nonetheless introduces kids to to the mechanisms of their inner worlds, which may lead to more investigation (and is at least better than the emptiness of Frozen). “What character are you now?” a little girl asked her mom on the way out of the theater. “I’m Sadness,” she said, “because the movie’s over.”