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Neuronal Panpsychism

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Panpsychism is the view that everything has a mental life. Many people find this implausible because it seems weird to think that rocks and dust bunnies are cognizers in the same way that people or animals are cognizers. Panpsychism also seems to contradict the growing consensus among neuroscientists who claim that consciousness only “arises” when a certain level of cortical connectivity or information integration is present in the brain, especially in fronto-parietal circuits and other “global workspaces”.

But why think you need a sophisticated network of cortico-cortical activity in order to have a mind, to have a point of view on the world? Why not think a single neuron is a locus of mental experience? Perhaps there is a faint “something-it-is-like” from the point of view of individual neurons. I call this view neuronal panpsychism: it says that every neuron has a distinct mental life independent of its interaction with any other neuron. Of course a neurons experience is going to be significantly impacted by its causal and reciprocal interaction with neighboring neurons but the point is that the neurons themselves are loci of experience in virtue of their intrinsic nature.

But how do we account for the reams of data suggesting that a high-level of connectivity is necessary for what Stan Dehaene calls “conscious ignition”? After all, even coma patients have some preserved neuronal activity but no one thinks they are conscious: they show no external signs of consciousness at least.

The key to explaining this data in a way that’s consistent with neuronal panpsychism is the “nesting” solution. The idea is that the “macro” consciousness of normal human adults is actually composed of the “micro” experiences of all the individual neurons. The feeling of global unity is therefore an illusion according to neuronal panpsychism. The feeling of being one great unified stream of experience is actually an aggregate of billions of microexperiences in the same way that a river is composed of countless water atoms.

But what does it mean for experiences to “add up” in this way? Is there an equivalent of multiplication or taking the integral? These are tough, unresolved theoretical issues facing all brands of panpsychism. But is it any less mysterious than saying consciousness “arises” whenever informational connectivity reaches a certain threshold in frontal-parietal circuits or when there is 40z synchrony or whatever?

I actually think though neuronal panpsychism can make sense of why it feels different to have your frontal-parietal circuits activated or deactivated and why these circuits seem to make both a significant phenomenal and functional difference to the “macro” level experience of normal human adults. Neuronal panpsychism says that all neurons have mental states but that doesn’t mean they all have the same kind of mental states. For example, a motor neuron might have a different experience than a Von Economo neuron, or a cerebellar neuron might have a different experience than a neuron than lives in the prefrontal cortex.

In effect neuronal panpsychism is a kind of microfunctionalism where neurons with different functional profiles have different mental lives. These functional differences arise from both their phylo and ontogenetic history i.e. different types of neurons have different inherited genetic programming but they also have unique, individualized learning experiences.Thus. the differences in felt macro experiences when there are high levels of frontal-parietal activity are due to the unique experiences of those neurons being added to the choir of subcortical neurons. But they are not the origin of phenomenality, only the “loudest” phenomenality or “most famous” phenomenality, to borrow a metaphor from Dan Dennett’s “fame in the brain” theory (which is an intellectual precursor to neuronal panpsychism).

Thus, when a vegetative patient is transitioning to the minimally conscious state and onwards to normal consciousness there is never one unique threshold when consciousness gets “turned on”. Consciousness is not all or nothing. Consciousness is not a special property of only a unique set of cortical circuits in mammals with sufficiently activated global workspaces. According to neuronal panpsychism, ALL neurons contribute to what-it’s-like to be a unified mind or “I”.

But why stop at neurons? Why not think glial cells have mental lives too? Indeed, why not claims all cells have mental lives? This would be “cellular panpsychism”. But that’s another post.

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The Distressing Swiftness of Contemporary Philosophical Argumentation

David Chalmers recently posted a paper about panpsychism to his blog. Like an addict returning to the source of their troubles, I can’t help but read almost everything Chalmers writes when it comes to consciousness. He calls his argument for panpsychism “Hegelian” because it works using a thesis, antithesis, and synthesis structure. The thesis is materialism, the antithesis is the conceivability argument against materialism, and the synthesis is panpsychism. Because the paper is focused on panpsychism, Chalmers sets up the thesis and antithesis quickly. Using his finely honed but slightly worn stock pile of arguments against materialism, Chalmers is deftly able to dismiss his opponents in a single sentence! Consider this paragraph after presenting the antithesis:

Materialists do not just curl up and die when confronted with the conceivability argument and its cousins. Type-A materialists reject the epistemic premise, holding for example that zombies are not conceivable. Type-B materialists reject the step from an epistemic premise to an ontological conclusion, holding for example that conceivability does not entail possibility. Still, there are significant costs to both of these views. Type-A materialism seems to require something akin to an analytic functionalist view of consciousness, which most philosophers find too deflationary to be plausible.

For those not acquainted with Chalmers neat taxonomy of everyone who disagrees with him, “Type-A materialism” is that view that zombies are not conceivable. Chalmers created the Type-A concept basically as an honorary category reserved especially for Dan Dennett’s writings on qualia. Crudely stated, Dennett’s Type-A materialism amounts to the view that serious scientific (or philosophical) theorizing about qualia is misguided and confused for innumerable reasons and that people who use the term in the way Chalmers does generally don’t know what they are talking about, or if they do they can’t explain it to anyone else, and that we’re better off denying qualia exist or replacing the qualia concept with some better, more fruitful way of thinking about minds.

But notice the incredibly swiftness of Chalmers dismissal of Type-A materialism as high-lighted by the above bolded statement. He says Type-A materialism is not worth our time because “most philosophers find it too deflationary to be plausible.” However, Type-A materialists are a minority position in consciousness studies precisely because they are equivalent to the phlogiston naysayers who argued that the concept “phlogiston” is an empty symbol, like “the present king of France”. So of course most philosophers are going to “find it too deflationary”! But that’s not an argument! That’s just citing a sociological fact that as a matter of course most people who study qualia disagree with the people who say it’s a bad idea to try and study qualia! The dismissal amounts to nothing more than doing philosophy by survey. Because “most philosophers” find it implausible, it can be dismissed in a single sentence, which is equivalent to saying “A minority view is not held by a majority of philosophers, therefore the minority view is not worth our time.”

This curtness of dialectical engagement with critics who are skeptical of the basic presuppositions surrounding talk of qualia highlights what I see as a critical weakness in the “normal science” of qualia studies: insufficiently precise definitions of concepts. For example, look at how Chalmers sets up the theory of panpsychism:

I will understand panpsychism as the thesis that some fundamental physical entities are conscious: that is, that there is something it is like to be a quark or a photon or a member of some other fundamental physical type.

In defining what it means to call protons conscious he appeals to another concept: what-it-is-likeness, which is left completely undefined under the tacit assumption we know perfectly what it means. But, what exactly does it mean? I have no idea. No one who seriously uses the concept has ever given me a satisfactory answer when I press them to define it without appeal to concepts that are equally mysterious e.g. “awareness”, “experience”, “phenomenal”, etc. At this point my interlocutors will just try to get me to sound “weird” and ask “C’mon Gary, are you seriously denying there is something it is like to drink that beer you’re sipping?” And yes,  I will deny it but only because I am unclear what that term means and don’t wish to say nonsensical things and thumping the table and appealing to crass intuitions is unlikely to convince me that our discussion is on firm ground.

P.W. Bridgman anticipated this problem when he wrote in his 1927 book The Logic of Modern Physics that:

It is a task for experiment to discover whether concepts so defined correspond to anything in nature, and we must always be prepared to find that the concepts correspond to nothing or only partially correspond. In particular, if we examine the definition of absolute time in the light of experiment, we find nothing of absolute time in the light of experiment, we find nothing in nature with such properties.

Bridgman’s diagnosis is that these “empty concepts” are often not defined  in a sufficiently operational manner in order to be amenable to empirical inquiry, the heart and soul of science. If you cannot devise or imagine an experiment that would determine if there is anything in nature corresponding to your proposed theoretical entity, then your theoretical concept is unfruitful to scientific progress in the highest degree. Bridgman cites the following as a good example of a “meaningless” question i.e. a question that cannot be operationally defined so as to be resolvable by means of the physical measurement instruments used in science to conduct experimentation:

Is the sensation which I call blue really the same as that which my neighbor calls blue? Is it possible that a blue object may arouse in him the same sensation a red object does in me and vice versa? 

Bridgman doesn’t actually claim this question is meaningless, but suggests “The reader may amuse himself by finding whether [it has] meaning or not”. My guess would be no.

Bridgman’s work is like a breathe of fresh air after wading through the foggy mires of qualia studies. I am intent on studying Bridgman more, so don’t be surprised to see his name being mentioned on this blog more frequently henceforth.

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The Refrigerator Light Problem

1.0 The Problem of Phenomenal Consciousness

Phenomenal consciousness has a familiar guise but is frustratingly mysterious. Difficult to define (Goldman, 1993), it involves the sense of there being “something-it-is-like” for an entity to exist. Many theorists have studied phenomenal consciousness and concluded physicalism is false (Chalmers, 1995, 2003; Jackson, 1982; Kripke, 1972; Nagel, 1974). Other theorists defend physicalism on metaphysical grounds but argue there is an unbridgeable “explanatory gap” for phenomenal consciousness (Howell, 2009; Levine, 1983, 2001). “Mysterians” have argued the explanatory gap is intractable because of how the human mind works (McGinn, 1989; 1999). Whatever it is, phenomenal consciousness seems to lurk amidst biological processes but never plays a clearly identifiable causal role that couldn’t be performed nonconsciously (Flanagan & Polger, 1995). After all, some philosophers argue for the possibility of a “zombie” (Chalmers, 1996) physically identical to humans but entirely devoid of phenomenal consciousness.

Debates in the sprawling consciousness literature often come down to differences in intuition concerning the basic question of what consciousness actually is. One question we might have about its nature concerns its pervasiveness. First, is consciousness pervasive throughout our own waking life? Second, is it pervasive throughout the animal kingdom? We might be tempted to answer the first question by introspecting on our experience and hoping that will help us with the second question. However, introspecting on our experience generates a well known puzzle known as the “refrigerator light problem”.

2.0 The Refrigerator Light Problem
2.1 Thick vs thin

The refrigerator light problem is motivated by the question, “Consciousness seems pervasive in our waking life, but just how pervasive is it?” Analogously, we can ask whether the refrigerator light is always on. Naively, it seems like it’s on even when the door is closed, but is it really? The question is easily answered because we can investigate the design and function of refrigerators and conclude that the light is designed to turn off when the door is closed. We could even cut a hole in the door to see for ourselves. However, the functional approach won’t work with phenomenal consciousness because we currently lack a theory of how phenomenal consciousness works or any consensus on what its possible function might be, or whether it could even serve a function.

The refrigerator light problem is the problem of deciding between two mutually exclusive views of consciousness (Schwitzgebel, 2007):

The Thick View: Consciousness seems pervasive because it is pervasive, but we often cannot access or report this consciousness.
The Thin View: Consciousness seems pervasive, but this is just an illusion.

The thick view is straightforward to understand, but the thin view is prima facie counterintuitive. How could we be wrong about how our own consciousness seems to us? Many philosophers argue that a reality/appearance distinction for consciousness itself is nonsensical because consciousness just is how things seem. In other words, if consciousness seems pervasive, then it is pervasive.

On the thin view, however, the fact that it seems like consciousness is pervasive is a result of consciousness generating a false sense of pervasiveness. The thin theorist thinks that anytime we try to become aware of what-it-is-like to enjoy nonintrospective experience, we activate our introspection by inquiring and corrupt the data. The thin theorist is for methodological reasons skeptical about the idea of phenomenal consciousness existing without our ability to access or attend to it. If phenomenal consciousness can exist without any ability to report it then how can psychologists study it if subjects must issue a report that they are conscious? Anytime a subject reports they are conscious, you can’t rule out that it is the reporting doing all the work. The thin theorist challenges us to become aware of these nonintrospective experiences such that we can report on their existence and meaningfully theorize about them.

Philosophers might appeal to special phenomenological properties to falsify the thin view. This won’t work because, in principle, one could develop a thin view to accommodate any of the special phenomenological properties ascribed to phenomenal consciousness such as the pervasive “raw feeling” of redness when introspecting on what-it-is-like to look at a strawberry or the “painfulness” of pain. Thin theory can simply explain away the experience of pervasiveness as an illusion generated by a mechanism that itself isn’t pervasive. Julian Jaynes is famous for defending a strong thin view:

Consciousness is a much smaller part of our mental life than we are conscious of, because we cannot be conscious of what we are not conscious of…It is like asking a flashlight in a dark room to search around for something that doesn’t have any light shining on it. The flashlight, since there is light in whatever direction it turns, would have to conclude that there is light everywhere. And so consciousness can seem to pervade all mentality when actually it does not. (1976, p. 23)

Thin vs thick views represent the two most common interpretations of the refrigerator light problem, and both seem to account for the data equally well. The problem is that from the perspective of introspection, both theories are indistinguishable. The mere possibility of the thin view being true motivates the methodological dilemma of the refrigerator light problem. How do we rule out thin explanations of thick phenomenology?

2.2 The Difference Introspection Makes

The intractability of the refrigerator light depends on the inevitable influence introspection has on nonintrospective experience. Consider the following case. Jones loves strawberries. He eats one a day at 3:00 pm. All day, Jones looks forward to 3:00 pm because it’s the one time of the day when he can savor the moment and take a break from the hustle-and-bustle of work. When 3:00 pm arrives, he first gazes longingly at the strawberry, his eyes soaking up its patterns of texture and color while his reflective mind contemplates how it will taste. Now Jones reaches out for the strawberry, puts it up to his mouth, and bites into it slowly, savoring and paying attention to the sweetness and delicate fibrosity that is distinctive of strawberries. What’s crucial is that Jones is not just enjoying the strawberry, but introspecting on the fact that he is enjoying the strawberry. That is, he is aware of the strawberry but also meta-aware of his first-order awareness.

Suppose we ask Jones what it’s like for him to enjoy the strawberry when he is not introspecting. The refrigerator light problem will completely stump him. Moreover, suppose we want to ascribe consciousness to Jones (or Jones wants to ascribe it to himself). Should we ascribe it before he starts introspecting or after? Naturally, the answer depends on whether we accept a thin or thick view. According to a thin view, whatever is present in Jones’ experience prior to introspection does not warrant the label “consciousness”. The thin theorist might call this pervasive property “nonconscious qualia” (Rosenthal, 1997), but they reserve the term “consciousness” to describe Jones’ metarepresentational awareness that his perceiving. The thin theorist would agree with William Calvin when he says, in defining “consciousness”, “The term should capture something of our advanced abilities rather than covering the commonplace” (1989, p. 78).

What about nonhuman animals? Whereas a thin theorist would say there is a difference in kind between human and rat consciousnesss, the thick theorist is likely to say that both the rat and Jones share the most important kind of pervasive consciousness. Is this jostling a purely terminological squabble? Kriegel (2009) has argued that the debate is substantial because theorists have different intuitions about the source of mystery for consciousness. The thick theorist thinks the mystery originates with first-order pervasiveness; the thin theorist thinks it originates with second-order awareness. Unfortunately, a squabble over intuitions is just as stale as a terminological dispute.

3.0 The Generality of the Refrigerator Light Problem
3.1 Introducing the Stipulation Strategy

If you are a scientist wanting to tackle the Hard problem of phenomenal consciousness, how would you respond to the refrigerator light problem? If the debate between thin and thick theories is either terminological or based on conflicting intuitions, what do you do? The only strategy I can think of for circumventing the terminological arbitrariness is to embrace it using what I call the stipulation strategy. It works like this. You first agree that we cannot resolve the thin vs thick debate using introspection alone. Unfazed, you simply stipulate some criterion for pointing phenomenal consciousness out such that it can be detected with empirical methods.

Possible criteria are diverse and differ from scientist to scientist. Some theorists stipulate that you will find phenomenal consciousness anytime you can find first-order (FO) perceptual representations of the right kind (Baars, 1997; Block, 1995; Byrne, 1997; Dretske, 1993, 2006; Tye, 1997). This would allow us to find many instances of phenomenal consciousness throughout the biological world, especially in creatures with nervous systems. However, we might have a more restricted criterion that says you will find phenomenal consciousness anytime you have higher-order (HO) thoughts/perceptions (Gennaro, 2004; Lycan, 1997; Rosenthal, 2005), restricting the instantiations of phenomenal consciousness to mammals or maybe even primates depending on your understanding of higher-order cognition. Or, more controversially, you might have a panpsychist stipulation criterion that makes it possible to point out phenomenal consciousness in the inorganic world.

Once we understand how the stipulation strategy works, the significance of any possible reductive explanation becomes trivialized qua explanation of phenomenal consciousness. To apply this result to contemporary views, I will start with FO theory, apply the same argument to HO theory, and then discuss the more counterintuitive (but equally plausible) theory of panpsychism.

3.2 The First-order Gambit

FO theorists deny the transitivity principle and claim one does not need to be meta-aware in order for there to be something-it-is-like to exist. The idea is that we can be in genuine conscious states but completely unaware of being in them. That is, FO theorists think there can be something-it-is-like for S to exist without S being aware of what-it-is-like for S to exist, a possibility HO theorists think absurd if not downright incoherent because the phrase “for S” suggests meta-awareness.

FO approaches are characterized by their use of perceptual awareness as the stipulation criterion for consciousness. A representative example is Dretske, who says “Seeing, hearing, and smelling x are ways of being conscious of x. Seeing a tree, smelling a rose, and feeling a wrinkle is to be (perceptually) aware (conscious) of the tree, the rose, and the wrinkle” (1993, p. 265). Dretske argues that once you understand what consciousness is (perceptual awareness), you will realize that one can be pervasively conscious without being meta-aware that you are conscious.

However, there is a serious problem with trying to reconcile the implications of theoretical stipulation criteria with common intuitions about which creatures are conscious. The problem with using perceptual awareness as our criterion is that it casts its net widely, perhaps too widely if you think phenomenality is only realized in nervous systems. Since many FO theorists think that if we are going to have a scientific explanation of phenomenal consciousness at all it must be a neural explanation (Block, 2007; Koch, 2004) they will want to avoid ascribing consciousness to nonneural organisms. However, if we stipulate that a bat has phenomenal consciousness in virtue of its capacity for perceptual awareness, I see no principled way of looking at the phylogenetic timeline and marking the evolution of neural systems as the origin of perceptual awareness.

To see why, consider chemotaxis in unicellular bacteria (Kirby, 2009; Van Haastert & Devreotes, 2004). Recently chemotaxis has been modeled using informatic or computational theory rather than classical mechanistic biology (Bourret & Stock, 2002; Bray, 1995; Danchin, 2009; Shapiro, 2007). A simple demonstration of chemotaxis would occur if you stuck a bacterium in a petri dish that had a small concentration of sugar on one side. The bacterium would be able to intelligently discriminate the sugar side from the non-sugar side and regulate its swimming behavior to move upstream the gradient. Naturally we assume the bacterium is able to perceive the presence of sugar and respond appropriately. On this simplistic notion of perceiving, perceiving a stimulus is, roughly speaking, a matter of valenced behavioral discrimination of that stimulus. By valenced, I mean that the stimuli are valued as either attractive or aversive with respect to the goals of the organism (in this case, survival and homeostasis). If the bacterium simply moved around randomly when placed in a sugar gradient such that the sugar had no particular attractive or aversive force, we might conclude that the bacterium is not capable of perceiving sugar, or that sugar is not ecologically relevant to the goals of the organism. But if the bacterium always moved upstream of the sugar gradient, it is natural to say that the bacterium is capable of perceiving the presence of sugar. Likewise, if there were a toxin placed in the petri dish, we would expect this to be valenced as aversive and the bacteria would react appropriately by avoiding it, with appropriateness understood in terms of the goal of survival

Described in this minimal way, perceptual awareness in its most basic form does not seem so special that only creatures with nerve cells are capable of it. Someone might object that this is not a case of genuine perceptual awareness because there is nothing-it-is-like for the bacterium to sense the sugar or that its goals are not genuine goals. But how do we actually know this? How could we know this? For all we know, there is something-it-is-like for the bacterium to perceive the sugar. If we use perceptual awareness as our stipulation criterion, then we are fully justified in ascribing consciousness to even unicellulars.

Furthermore, it is misleading to say bacteria only respond to “proximal” stimulation, and therefore are not truly perceiving. Proximal stimulation implies an implausible “snapshot” picture of stimulation where the stimulation happens instantaneously at a receptor surface. But if stimuli can have a spatial (adjacent) component why can they not also have a temporal (successive) component? As J.J. Gibson put it, “Transformations of pattern are just as [biologically] stimulating as patterns are” (Gibson, 1966). And this is what researchers studying chemotaxis actually find: “for optimal chemotactic sensitivity [cells] combine spatial and temporal information” (Van Haastert & Devreotes, 2004, p. 626). The distinction between proximal stimulation and distal perception rests on a misunderstanding of what actually stimulates organisms.

Interestingly, the FO gambit offers resources for responding to the zombie problem. Since we have independent reasons to think bacteria are entirely physical creatures, if perceptual awareness is used as a stipulation criterion then the idea of zombie bacteria is inconceivable. Because bacterial perception is biochemical in nature, a perfect physical duplicate of a bacteria would satisfy the stipulation criterion we apply to creatures in the actual world. The problem, however, is that we have no compelling reason to choose FO stipulation criteria over any other, including HO criteria.

3.3 The Higher-order Gambit

HO theories are reductive and emphasize some kind of metacognitive representation as a criterion for ascribing phenomenal consciousness to a creature (e.g. awareness that you are aware). These HO representations are postulated in order to capture the “transitivity principle” (Rosenthal, 1997), which says that a conscious state is a state whose subject is, in some way, aware of being in it. A controversial corollary of the transitivity principle is that there are some genuinely qualitative mental states that are nonconscious e.g. nonconscious pain.
Neurologically motivated HO theories like Baar’s Global Workspace model (1988; 1997) and Dehaene’s Global Neuronal Workspace model (Dehaene et al., 2006; Dehaene, Kerszberg, & Changeux, 1998; 2001; Gong et al., 2009) have had great empirical success but they are deeply unsatisfying as explanations of phenomenal consciousness. HO theory can explain our ability to report on or monitor our experiences, but many philosophers wonder how it could provide an explanation for phenomenal consciousness (Chalmers, 1995). Ambitious HO theorists reply by insisting they do in fact have an explanation of how phenomenal consciousness arises from nonconscious mental states.

However, ambitious HO approaches suffer from the same problem of arbitrariness that FO approaches did. In order decide between FO and HO stipulation criteria we need to first decide on either a thick or thin interpretation of the refrigerator light problem. Since introspection is no help, we are forced to use the stipulation strategy. But why choose a HO stipulation strategy over a FO one? If everyone had the same intuitions concerning which creatures were conscious we could generate stipulation criteria that perfectly match these intuitions. The problem is that theorists have different intuitions concerning what creatures (beside themselves) are in fact conscious. Surprisingly, some theorists might go beyond the biological world altogether and claim inorganic entities are conscious.

3.4 The Panpsychist Gambit

A more radical stipulation strategy is possible. If antiphysicalist arguments suggest that neurons and biology have nothing to do with phenomenal consciousness, we might think that phenomenal consciousness is a fundamental feature of reality. On this view, matter itself is intrinsically experiential. Another idea is that phenomenality is necessitated by an even more fundamental property, called a protophenomenal property (Chalmers, 2003).

Panpsychism is a less popular stipulation gambit, but at least one prominent scientist has recently used a stipulation criterion that leads to panpsychism (although he downplays this result). Guilio Tononi (2008) proposes integrated information as a promising stipulation criterion. The intellectual weight of the theory rests on a thought experiment involving a photodiode. A photodiode discriminates between light and no light. But does the photodiode see the light? Does it experience the light? Most people would think no. But the photodiode does integrate information (1 bit to be precise) and therefore, according to the theory of integrated information, has some experience, however dim. Whatever theoretical or practical benefits come with accepting the theory of integrated information, when it comes to the Hard problem of phenomenal consciousness we are left scratching our heads as to why integrated information is the best criterion for picking out phenomenal consciousness. Given the criterion leads to ascriptions of phenomenality to a photodiode, many theorists will take this as good reason for thinking the criterion itself is wrong given their pretheoretical intuitions about what entities are phenomenally conscious. But as we have learned, intuitions are diverse as they are unreliable.

Conclusion

Unable to define phenomenal consciousness, theorists are tempted to use their introspection to “point out” the phenomenon. The refrigerator light problem is motivated by the problem of deciding between thin and thick views of your own phenomenal consciousness using introspection alone. If introspection is supposed to help us understand what phenomenal consciousness is, and the refrigerator light problem prevents introspection from deciding between thin and thick views, then we need some other methodological procedure. The only option available is the stipulation strategy whereby we arbitrarily stipulate a criterion for pointing it out e.g. integrated information, or higher-order thoughts. The problem is that any proposed stipulation criterion is just as plausible as any other given we lack a pretheoretical consensus on basic questions such as the function of phenomenal consciousness. Our only hope is to push for the standardization of stipulation criteria.

p.s. If anyone wants the full reference for a citation, just ask.

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