Alexis Jacobi wrote: ↑Wed Dec 25, 2024 10:41 pm
One other comment re: BigMike …
He wants, or he has no choice but to reduce Man to the physiological brain, but when we introduce what IC referred to as “mind” we come face to face with the chiefest of human contradictions: the conflict between “body” (animal existence, man in a meaningless material conundrum), and “mind” (man as a ‘self’ and as a complex symbol-making and symbol-perceiving being who cannot but conceive of transcendence out of and beyond horrifying limitations.)
What is all this mishegoss about “determinism”, then, in BigMike’s vision of himself, first and foremost, and of Man in this unfathomable world? It really makes no sense.
BigMike has
symbolized man by a harsh imposition which he describes as “science truthfulness”. But really, what
constructive function does this have?
Alexis,
You’re raising what seems to be a common critique, but in doing so, you’ve sidestepped a central and undeniable feature of human existence—perhaps intentionally, perhaps not. You claim I “reduce” humanity to the physiological brain, as though acknowledging the physical processes underlying learning, memory, and behavior somehow strips away what makes us human. But in framing it this way, you miss what is, to me, the single most remarkable characteristic of humanity: our ability to learn and remember, and how this reshapes not just who we are but how we act. This isn’t some vague philosophical point; it’s the backbone of my view. And yet, it seems to be the one thing you, and most others here, consistently fail to engage with.
Let’s start with this: Do you acknowledge that memories are “stored” in the brain as physical alterations? Not as ethereal impressions, but as real, tangible changes to the brain’s structure? This is foundational. Memories reside in the strengthening or weakening of synaptic connections—those intricate links between neurons that adapt based on experience. When you learn something, whether it’s a philosophical argument or how to tie your shoes, your brain physically changes—almost permanently. The pathways that encode this information become more efficient, altering the “terrain” of your neural network. This isn’t conjecture or reductionism; it’s neuroscience, grounded in the laws of physics and chemistry.
So let me ask you directly: How do you think learning and memory work? Where do you think they reside, if not in the physical architecture of the brain? And why do you think anyone—yourself included—cannot acknowledge that studying, learning, and remembering something today can fundamentally alter what you do or say a year from now? What about this contradicts determinism? Because unless you can explain how memory and learning exist outside the realm of physical processes, your argument becomes little more than discomfort with the implications of what we already know.
Let me paint this in a way that might resonate with you. Imagine a river delta—a vast, intricate network of branching streams and tributaries. The path of each drop of water, each individual molecule, is determined entirely by the topology of the delta, the slope of the land, and the force of the water pushing behind it. There’s no mystery here, no agency in the water itself. When it reaches a fork, it doesn’t stop to ponder which way to flow. It simply follows the inevitable course dictated by gravity, pressure, and the physical constraints of the branching channels.
Now, picture your nervous system as that river delta. Electrical signals—like the water molecules—flow through this vast network of synaptic pathways. Their path is determined by the architecture of the neural connections, the strength of the synapses, and the electrochemical conditions at that moment. What we perceive as “choices” are not conscious deliberations but the inevitable result of these signals flowing through the prearranged structure of your brain.
But here’s the key: unlike the static delta, the brain is dynamic. Learning and memory reshape it. Studying a subject today is like carving a new channel in the delta, redirecting the flow of signals. As those pathways are strengthened, they influence how you act tomorrow, a year from now, or decades into the future. This process is deterministic, but it’s anything but static or limiting. It’s what allows us to adapt, to grow, to change. And it is precisely what makes humans unique among the animals.
This is where your critique, and those of many others here, fails to land. You speak of the “mind” as though it’s something separate from the brain, something transcendent that operates beyond the deterministic processes of matter. But what is the “mind,” if not the functioning of the brain? The thoughts you have, the symbols you perceive, the metaphors you create—all of it emerges from the physical processes of neurons firing, synapses connecting, and memories shaping the flow of those signals. The very act of conceiving of transcendence, of pondering the limits of existence, is itself the product of deterministic forces playing out in your neural architecture.
You accuse me of imposing a “harsh” vision of “science truthfulness,” as though this perspective is somehow reductive or dehumanizing. But in reality, it’s the opposite. Understanding the physical basis of learning and memory doesn’t strip away meaning; it enriches it. It shows us how deeply connected we are to the causal fabric of the universe, how every experience leaves an imprint, and how those imprints shape the very essence of who we are. Recognizing that our actions are determined by this interplay of forces isn’t a denial of humanity—it’s an embrace of it.
You ask what constructive function this has. Let me tell you: understanding that our learning, our growth, and our actions are all part of a deterministic process gives us the tools to shape the future. It allows us to recognize the profound impact of education, of knowledge, of deliberate effort to create positive changes in ourselves and in the world. When we see that learning reshapes the neural pathways that guide our actions, we understand why it matters to seek truth, to expand our perspectives, to teach and to learn. Far from being nihilistic or fatalistic, this understanding is profoundly empowering.
So, Alexis, here’s my challenge to you: If you truly believe that the “mind” operates outside the deterministic processes of the brain, explain how. Don’t hide behind poetic abstractions or appeals to transcendence. Show me, in concrete terms, where learning and memory reside if not in the physical structure of the brain. Show me how they operate if not through the strengthening and weakening of synaptic connections. And explain why recognizing this would diminish the value of human experience, rather than deepening it.
Until then, all you’ve done is restate your resistance to what the evidence already tells us. The nervous system, like the river delta, is a marvel of deterministic design. Its ability to adapt, to reshape, to learn, and to grow is what makes us human. And in that, Alexis, I find more meaning and wonder than any myth of free will could ever provide.