What is the mind? Are humans purely physical beings? What are we to make of physicalist/materialist philosophies of the mind? Do these debates have any relevance for the existence of God?
Stephen Parrish seeks to answer these questions (and more) in his work, The Knower and the Known (hereafter KK). Perhaps most importantly, Parrish explores issues which range beyond the philosophy and mind and get at the foundations of ontology. The tome therefore provides insights not only into a wide range of topics related to philosophy of mind but also provides applications into other fields.
The work is split into two major sections. The first is an exploration of physicalist/materialist theories of mind; the second is an exploration of consciousness and how theism provides the best explanation for our phenomenal consciousness (among other things). We shall explore these in order. In this post, I shall focus upon Parrish’s critique of physicalism.
Parrish introduces the major physicalist theories related to the mind-body problem. These include reductionism, eliminativism, supervenience, and emergence. In order to make sense of the claim that the mind is a purely physical substance, it is important to come to an understanding of what it means to be “physical,” and Parrish cites numerous philosophers in order to come to a fairly simple working definition: “to be a material object (to be composed of matter) is ultimately to have certain kinds of causal power over certain areas” (69). The definition must, necessarily, be more complex. Thus, various aspects of dimension, space, and the like are explored. Then, KK provides an explanation of the standard materialist/physicalist view of reality, which is essentially that “everything that exists… can be located within space and time…” (85, Parrish’s definition cites that of C. Koons, and is also lengthier, but for the purpose of this review I have left it at this).
The nature of physicalism must also be understood in order to analyze the claims of physicalists. How is it, exactly, that the physical is to account for the mental? Parrish explores numerous ways proposed to explain physically the connection. These are centered around various proposed psycophysical laws, which hold that there are certain ways in which conscious states relate relation to other physical states. There have been many different proposals about how these laws might work.
According to the nomological theory, there is a lawlike correlation between conscious and other physical states. A nomological theorist would note the correlation between neurons firing in the brain and various mental states. The proposal would then lead to a law of correlation (and perhaps causation) for brain states b1, b2, and b3 with conscious states c1, c2, and c3. Parrish notes a number of problems with this theory, however. Most notably is the fact that there are sometimes different patterns of neurons firing for the same thought. Of course, a physicalist could counter that there are different laws for these different patterns as well. In that case, notes Parrish, “there would have to be laws to regulate the relation of every brain state with the relevant phenomenological aspect of thought to which it is correlated” (89-90). Of course, this becomes even more problematic when one considers that there is an infinite set of phenomenological aspects of our consciousness. That is, we can focus our minds around thinking of numbers and continue counting from one to a billion and beyond. For nomological theory to be correct, there must be a specific brain state for each of these thoughts (along with whatever different brain states would need to exist for the variations which can produce the same number). So there would then need to be an infinite set of laws to account for our mental life.
Yet there is another difficulty, for “since it seems possible for different types of brains to have the same conscious phenomenal thought, and every brain is constructed somewhat differently from every other brain, there would have to be even more laws that accounted for conscious items to accommodate all of the brain states of all the different brains” (90). To say that such a theory of mind begins to make a bloated metaphysics seems something of an understatement. And this is not to even begin to consider the possibility of other intelligent life in the universe, which would also need these lawlike relations for governing their conscious states.
And all of this is not to take into account the problems with explaining how and why there could be different patterns for the same thoughts not only across species but also across brains of the same species and also across individuals. A number of other possibilities are examined, including accidental correlation theory, realizability, and identity. Each of these comes with their own set of problems which Parrish elucidates (92-97).
Parrish throws the gauntlet at physicalist theories of mind in the chapter aptly titled “Judging Physicalist Theories of the Mind.” In this chapter, KK provides a thorough critique of all the major physicalist theories of mind. For the purpose of this review, I will only provide the briefest of summaries for each of these critiques. Mysterianism is essentially the notion that we cannot know how consciousness and the brain relate, but we do know that physicalism is true. The problem with this position is that such a position basically pushes the burden of proof unto other physicalist theories of mind as opposed to providing its own explanation, and the theory in fact seems to be just another form of epiphenomenalism.
Eliminativism is a simpler theory in which it is simply asserted that consciousness does not exist (133ff). Such a theory seems patently absurd on its face, yet some physicalist philosophers continue to maintain that despite any appearance to the contrary, “there are no conscious aspects, objects, properties, or events at all” (136). The difficulty with such a position is that it is “self-referentially incoherent” (137). That is, it cannot be consistently believed (whatever it means to “believe” something) that there are on mental state when, in order to have such a belief, one must have some sort of mental state. Parrish further offers a scenario to describe our world in terms of an eliminativist worldview, which would yield a kind of “zombie” world in which our fictional mental states have no relation to the world around us (149-150).
Identity theory basically asserts that consciousness just is identical to the brain. Much work must be done to analyze this theory by noting which theory of identity one might hold to, along with how such a theory of identity might play out. KK provides just such an exploration and comes to conclude that any of these identity theories falls to a number of objections, including the arbitrariness of the connection between the physical and the [identical] consciousness (162-163). Supervenience theory, which holds that somehow the mental supervenes upon the physical, suffers from providing no actual explanation for how this should be the case and thus basically devolves into one of the other physicalist theories.
Functionalism is the theory that “the conscious mind is the brain functioning in a certain manner” (171). Again, the difficulty here is that this seems to boil down largely into a bare assertion and how closely related to (and probably reliant upon) eliminativism it is.
Higher order theories of mind posit that consciousness is something like the brain scanning itself. However, this provides no explanation for how consciousness could arise and thus is again parasitic upon other varieties of physicalism, most notably eliminativism.
Epiphenomenalism is at the core of Parrish’s critique, for throughout the work he shows in numerous ways how the other physicalist theories of mind are ultimately mysterian or epiphenomenal in nature. Epiphenomenalism is basically the view that consciousness is causally inefficacious. Thus, it is the brain which “does the work” while consciousness is some kind of byproduct of brain activity. However, such a theory does not adequately explain how consciousness may itself arise, nor does it provide any attachment for our thoughts to reality. It thus suffers again from self-referential incoherence, for our mental states have no causal attachment to our brain states or reality. They are, again, merely “epiphenomena” which somehow are generated by our brains. If our mental states happen to line up with reality, that becomes a merely happy accident, for our mental states do not control our brain states but are rather generated by them. This is not to imply that mental states must control brain states to give rise to coherency, but rather to note that unless our mental states are causal in some sense, the very process of rational thought is illusory, for our prior mental states have no connection to our past mental states other than to be generated in a certain temporal order.
We have outlined Parrish’s critique of physicalism. Next week, we shall explore his defense of dualism and his case for theism from the nature of intelligibility. However, by way of conclusions for this section, it is important to note the insights which Parrish has offered in KK. The arguments he presented seem devastating to physicalism. In particular, the fact that so physicalist theories of mind all seem to either ultimately appeal to mystery or reduce consciousness beyond causal powers undermine the physicalists’ ability to explain reality sufficiently. If a worldview cannot even account for something as basic as our thoughts, such a deficiency seems to bode ill for the rest of that view. As noted, we shall note a powerful alternative which Parrish argues for in the latter part of the book, theistic substance dualism.
Parrish, of course, offers much more thorough critiques of every position listed here (along with many that were not included in this outline). The work is extremely important in not only its comprehensiveness but also its thoroughness for exploring theories of mind.
Stephen Parrish’s The Knower and the Known is a tour de force in philosophy of mind. Comprehensive in scope, thoroughly researched (and referenced), and lucid in its insight, this is a book which must be on the shelf of anyone who is remotely interested in the areas it touches.
Stephen Parrish, The Knower and the Known (South Bend, IN: St. Augustine’s Press, 2013).
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There are Christian Brain-mind monists. Rev. Dr John Polkinghorne, considered by some to be “one of the greatest living writers and thinkers on science and religion” is a Christian who believes mind is an emergent property. He employs the nothing buttery phrase coined by D. M. MacKay, a brain physiologist and yet another Christian who argues in favor of brain-mind monism & emergence rather than dualism.
Also see, Contemporary Debates in the Philosophy of Religion, Ed., Michael L. Peterson (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 2004), produced by members of the Society of Christian Philosophers, featuring the question “Should a Christian Be A Mind-Body Dualist?” in which Dr. Lynne Rudder Baker (Univ. of Mass.) argues that Christians should reject mind-body dualism. Her contributions and arguments in that Christian debate also appear online: ‘Should a Christian Be a Mind-Body Dualist?—NO.’ See also her Reply to Zimmermanʼs ‘Should a Christian Be a Mind/Body Dualist?—YES.’
Malcolm Jeeves is another Christian professor with an online article (published in Science & Christian Belief) in which he rejects dualism and argues for brain-mind monism. See How Free is Free? Reflections on the Neuropsychology of Thought and Action.
Besides from the above scientists there are also theologians who argue that “mind-body” dualism as unbiblical and theologically unacceptable. Man “is” a living soul, he doesn’t “have” a soul. And God can recreate people as He sees fit, in some new matrix with nothing forgotten or left out from the original, because well, He’s God. See the book, Whatever Happened to the Soul?: Scientific and Theological Portraits of Human Nature (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1998). The bookʼs editors include: Warren S. Brown, Professor of Psychology at Fuller Graduate School of Psychology and Adjunct Professor at UCLAʼs School of Medicine; Nancey Murphy, Professor of Christian Philosophy at Fuller; and, H. Newton Malony, Senior Professor of Psychology Emeritus at Fuller.
That reminds me, a Christian student told me in the college library a few years ago that he was transferring to a Presbyterian university in Great Britain, somewhere in Scotland I believe, where the Christian professors were apparently all anti-dualists. That student was enthusiastic about D. M. MacKayʼs writings. I do wish Iʼd remembered the name of the institution he mentioned.
As for the evolution of the brain-mind, there are brainless single-celled amoeba that are capable of hunting, detecting, pursuing and trapping single-celled prey. If a single-celled organism like an amoeba can do all that without a brain, it doesn’t take much imagination to think about the far advanced capabilities possible when you have a multitude of single-cells interacting via 100 trillion electro-chemical pathways as in the human brain which is also connected to sensory organs far superior to the ameobas and that take in wide vistas of sights, sounds, touch, smell, taste.
And then there’s our evolutionary cousins. Mammals and birds feel emotions, have good memories, can calculate different outcomes, and even engage in what we would consider courageous self-giving behavior (Washoe once saved a fellow chimp from drowning by clambering over a fence, grabbing some long grass by the shoreline and reaching out a hand to save them. Animals have rushed to rescue humans as well. One monkey revived another that had been electrocuted.)
They also apparently think in their own ways about things like
justice (“the cucumber or grape for the same token” experiment with monkeys–one monkey tossing away the piece of cucumber and the token, since he apparently thought it unfair that the other monkey got a luscious grape, rather than a bland piece of cucumber, for the same token),
morality (forgiveness existed in animals long before metaphysics or Christianity),
mortality (Koko the sign-ing gorilla, when asked, “Where do gorillas go when they die?” answered, “comfortable hole bye.” Elephants handle the bony remains of their dead. Crows hold a sort of wake for their dead friends. Australian parrots send out scouts before invading a human farmer’s corn field, then the rest of the parrots are called forth, and if one parrot is shot by the farmer they raise an enormous commotion, flying over their dead comrade again and again.)
Imagine a movie showing the cosmos over its billions of years from the synthesis of the periodic table of elements inside stellar furnaces (and via stellar explosions), to atoms joining to form molecules, to replicating molecules, to cells and multi-cellular animals and branching trees of speciation, there is no singular unchanging archetype, there is continual change over time. Also if there is a Platonic archetype for couch and chair then at what exact point does a couch that is shrinking in length suddenly become a chair, or vice versa? At what exact point does a human become a chimp, if you remove one DNA base-pair in every celll of the human genome and replaced it with what appears in the chimp’s genome?
Is there an unbridgeable gap or absolute distinction between natural and metaphysical reasoning?
Logic seems to begin with the senses plus memory/cognition factors involved in recognizing when things are the same or different, greater or smaller, in nature. Logic is also so simplistic it’s axiomatic. A is A, B is B, A is not B. Some of the earliest computers were performing long strings of symbolic logic equations, more complex than any human could easily handle, in seconds. What’s far more difficult is programming a computer to sense and recognize things that exist in nature. What’s difficult is programming a computer to walk. Logic is easy.