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David Chalmers is a Professor of Philosophy and
Director of the Center for Consciousness Studies at the University
of Arizona. His work focuses on the philosophy of mind, and he is
especially interested in consciousness, artificial intelligence and
computation, philosophical issues about meaning and possibility,
metaphysics, and the foundations of cognitive science.
His
undergraduate degree was in mathematics and computer science at the
University of Adelaide in Australia. After graduating, he was a
graduate student in mathematics at the University of Oxford, but
soon switched to Indiana University, where he worked in the Center
for Research on Concepts and Cognition, obtaining his Ph.D. in 1993
in Philosophy and Cognitive Science. He then spent two years as a
McDonnell Fellow in the Philosophy, Neuroscience, and Psychology
program at Washington University in St. Louis. After nearly four
years as a professor in the Department of Philosophy at UC Santa
Cruz, Chalmers shifted to the Philosophy Department at the University
of Arizona where he has
been since early 1999. At the moment, he is working on a book
concerning the connections between reason, meaning, and possibility,
tentatively entitled On What Might Be.
David Chalmers
is perhaps best known for his monograph, The Conscious Mind: In
Search of a Fundamental Theory (1996, Oxford University Press),
in which he examines the problem of consciousness and presents in
rigorous detail his own non-reductive theory linking the physical
and experiential, as well as providing support for a strong version
of AI.
He is also the editor of a collection of readings in
philosophy of mind, Philosophy of Mind: Classical and
Contemporary Readings (2002, Oxford University Press), as well
as the motivation for another book, Explaining Consciousness: The
Hard Problem, Edited by Jonathan Shear (1997, The MIT Press).
The latter includes Chalmers' seminal paper introducing the 'hard
problem' of consciousness, "Facing Up to the Problem of
Consciousness," and a collection of 26 papers responding to the
'hard problem' as well as Chalmers' ultimate response.
David
Chalmers' web page can be found here.
The
following interview was conducted by Christopher Lovett with
support and ideas from David Groppe.
Q:
For those of us unfamiliar with your work, could you briefly say a
bit about your major areas of research, what you have been doing
since the publication of your book, The Conscious Mind, in
1996, and what you're working on now? Has the "hard problem" gotten
any easier?
I work in a number of areas of philosophy and cognitive
science, but I am especially interested in the philosophy and
science of consciousness. I'm concerned both with philosophical
questions about the place of consciousness in nature, and
scientific questions about how consciousness can be studied
empirically. In my 1996 book I argued that consciousness is an
irreducible part of nature, and in particular is not reducible to
brain processes, though it is systematically correlated with brain
processes.
Since then, I've been working on many different
things, but I've been especially concerned with the question of
how a rigorous science of consciousness can develop. I don't think
the hardest problems of consciousness will be solved overnight,
but one thing we've learned is that we can make a lot of progress
in the science even without solving those problems. For now, the
science of consciousness is a science of the systematic
correlations between what we might call the "third-person data,"
about brain processes and behavior, and "first-person data" about
consciousness. The centerpiece is the search for neural correlates
of consciousness (or NCCs). Understanding this correlation is
vital to understanding the relationship between physical processes
and consciousness, and it raises a lot of foundational questions:
what is an NCC? what are the criteria and methods for finding such
a thing? I've written a couple of papers on these issues.
Q: Is the work you do now the same type of work you were
doing as a graduate student? How have your work and interests
evolved since the beginning of your career? What were the major
factors that influenced this evolution?
I started out as an undergraduate student in mathematics in
Australia, and I always thought of myself as oriented toward
science. But over time, I came to feel that the most important
problems in mathematics had already been solved. I gradually
became obsessed with the problem of consciousness, which seemed to
me to be the biggest unsolved problem in science. I ended up
leaving my graduate work in mathematics at Oxford to do a Ph.D. in
philosophy and cognitive science at Indiana. While I was there I
did a lot of work on different topics, including some papers on
connectionist models of language and evolutionary approaches to
learning. But consciousness stayed my greatest interest, and I
wrote a dissertation on the topic that eventually became my book.
Over time, I'd say I've become more and more interested in an
ever broader range of issues both in philosophy and in cognitive
science. One nice thing about being a philosopher is that one is
allowed to be professionally interested in a very diverse range of
topics. Q: Which people have most influenced your
thinking about cognition and in what way(s)?
I'd say my interest in thinking about the mind was spurred
especially by reading Hofstadter's Godel, Escher, Bach: An
Eternal Golden Braid as a teenager, and also Hofstadter and
Dennett's The Mind's I. These provided an enormous amount
of food for thought for a philosophically inclined kid who didn't
know what philosophy was. Later on, I worked closely with Doug
Hofstadter as a graduate student, so I'd say he's certainly the
greatest influence on my thinking, even though it turns out that
my views about the mind are pretty different from his.
Q: What kind of background do you think best prepares
someone to do interdisciplinary research in your area?
Where the study of consciousness is concerned, I think it's
important to have a background in cognitive psychology (especially
perception and memory), neuroscience (especially the cognitive
neuroscience of vision), and the philosophy of mind. Linguistics
and computer science have been somewhat more ancillary in this
field, at least so far: the connection between consciousness and
language is hard to pin down, and it's hard to know the criteria
for modeling consciousness computationally. On the other hand, I
have a strong background in computer science and have never
regretted it. Q: In a previous interview with Andrew
Chrucky (Philosophy Now - 1998), you say that "I argue that
neuroscience alone isn't enough to explain consciousness, but I
think it will be a major part of an eventual theory." Can you
explain why you don't think neuroscience is enough and suggest what
other research is needed to complement work in neuroscience?
Both of these are big questions. Basically, I think that
neuroscience is well-suited in principle to explaining behavioral
and functional capacities: learning, language, and so on. But
explaining consciousness isn't just a matter of explaining
behavior and explaining functioning. Even once one has explained
things, there's always a further question: why is this
accompanied by subjective experience? And a neural account alone
leaves this question unanswered. So one might say that
neuroscience provides correlation with consciousness, but
correlation is not explanation.
I've argued that there
must be certain primitive principles, or laws, bridging physical
processes and consciousness, that play a role analogous to
fundamental laws in physics. The question then is how we find
these laws. To do this, I think one needs a combination of
neuroscience and psychology, gathering objective "third-person
data" about brain and behavior, with phenomenological and
introspective methods gathering "first-person" data about
consciousness. One then needs to systematize these data and
abstract general principles. First there will be quite specific
principles about specific neural correlates of certain sorts of
specific subjective experiences (of the sort we're just starting
to get at now), but eventually we can hope to find the very
general and primitive principles that underlie these correlations.
These principles will be at the core of our theory of
consciousness. Q: Suppose the "hard problem" were
suddenly solved and we understood consciousness (defined as
subjective experience) fully, or at least to the extent that most
scholars agreed that it is a fundamental property of the universe,
as is gravity. Then what further questions would you be interested
in rigorously investigating? Are there any other unanswered
questions that have piqued your interest as much as the question of
consciousness?
Well, I think that the general "hard problem" is just one of
the things that makes consciousness intriguing. Even if we somehow
understood with clarity why consciousness arises, there would
still be all sorts of interesting questions about, say: the
relationship between conscious and unconscious cognition, the
representational structure of consciousness, the unity of
consciousness, the relationship between sensory and nonsensory
consciousness, and so on. All of these are things I've been
thinking about a lot.
But setting consciousness aside, I'm
also interested in questions about the meaning of language and the
representational contents of thought. I've spent a lot of time
recently trying to develop a framework in which meanings and
content can be formally represented in a way that helps us to
understand the relationship between language, thought, and the
world. Q: What do you think are the most important "big
questions" in Cognitive Science? What are some smaller versions or
special cases of those that we can work on now that you think will
shed some light on the big ones eventually?
Not surprisingly, I think the biggest question involves
developing a scientific understanding of consciousness. My
favorite "smaller" question is how we can understand the
mechanisms and the experience of humor. I think we don't really
have a clue of why humor exists, or what it really involves. Why
did evolution bother to make things funny? What was the point?
What did mechanisms in our brains make us appreciate funniness?
Why is the experience of funniness so distinctive? I think a lot
of questions about consciousness arise again in this apparently
much smaller microcosm. Q: How much does our
understanding of cognition hinge upon our understanding of
consciousness? Is it possible for us to achieve a deeper
understanding of more specific aspects of cognition such as
attention, memory and learning, pattern recognition, decision making
and language without first having a deeper understanding of what
consciousness is?
I think we've gotten a long way in understanding many of these
things without having a deep understanding of consciousness, and I
don't see why an even deeper understanding shouldn't be possible
this way. If we want to explain the behavior and functioning
associated with these phenomena at a mechanistic level, it's not
clear that one needs to bring consciousness in. And in all these
cases, one can get a long way just by focusing at a mechanistic
level. Still, in many of these cases, that won't be the full
picture. Attention, for example, has a rich phenomenological
nature, and one might say that understanding the mechanisms of
attention doesn't explain that nature. Similarly for the conscious
aspects of decision. So eventually we will need to integrate our
understanding of mechanisms here with an understanding of
subjective experience. Q: What do you think have been
some of the greatest advances in your area of expertise over the
past 10-20 years? What do you think will be some of the greatest
breakthroughs in your area of expertise over the next 10-20 years?
In the science of consciousness, the greatest breakthroughs
have probably been in the study of neural correlates of visual
consciousness: we don't have anything like a full understanding
here, but there is suddenly an active and thriving research
program where before there was very little. There are limitations
on what can be discovered using just brain imaging studies on
humans (at a very coarse grain) and neuron-level studies on
monkeys (who can't give verbal reports of conscious states), but
people have developed ingenious methods to circumvent these
limitations as well as they can. I expect the biggest future
progress to also be in the neuroscience. If someday we have
technology that allows us to get around the limitations just
mentioned, e.g. by being able to noninvasively monitor
neuron-level processing in humans, then I think the field will be
revolutionized. Probably that would lead to the golden age for the
science of consciousness, by allowing the simultaneous collection
of really specific and informative third-person data (at the
neural level) and first-person data (via verbal report).
In the philosophy of consciousness, progress is more
incremental, and issues are hardly ever settled once and for all.
But I think in the last few years people are coming to understand
much better the landscape of options for understanding the place
of consciousness in the natural order. An increasingly active
topic of research just recently is the relationship between
consciousness and representation: just how can we understand the
representational content of conscious experience? There was a very
exciting six-week institute on this topic in Santa Cruz earlier
this year, and I expect this topic to be at the center of the
philosophy of mind for at least the next decade. Q: How
do you define cognitive science? What are the advantages and
disadvantages to having a single interdisciplinary field rather than
a collection of individual and separate fields of scientific and
philosophical inquiry? Are we losing precision while gaining breadth
in answering questions about the mind?
I think cognitive science is the scientific study of the mind.
More specific definitions in terms of specific research programs
or methodologies (e.g. the computational research program) are
overly limiting. I think the ultimate data that cognitive science
seeks to explain are the data of both behavior and consciousness.
And to do this, it can use any methods available. Cognitive
science is still more of a collection of fields than a single
field, and I think this is not such a bad thing: one needs careful
attention to fine details to make progress, and that requires
specialization. There's hardly anyone who's a real expert in all
the relevant disciplines, though increasingly many who are expert
in more than one. Still, communication between the fields has
gotten much better, with the result that there's now a sense of a
collective understanding in a way that would have been harder to
make out a few decades ago. Certainly in the science of
consciousness, it's now possible to see connections between all
sorts of neuroscientific and psychological work in a way that was
poorly understood just a decade or two ago. And this big picture
helps to guide individual work in turn. I think this sort of
two-way interplay between big picture and details is the most
beneficial consequence of the move toward "cognitive science".
Q: How would you say your early training as a
mathematician has influenced your work? Knowing what you know now,
would you have pursued your undergraduate and graduate studies
differently? Was there any specific event or conversation or piece
of writing that solidified your decision to shift from mathematics
to philosophy?
I always thought I would be a mathematician until I wasn't any
more. I loved mathematics as a student, and still have a soft spot
for it today. I think my change of fields was due to two things.
First, the more I advanced in mathematics, the more it seemed to
me that current research was less fundamental and in a way less
important than the research of centuries ago. Mathematics is just
so well-understood these days. Even though there's a lot that
isn't answered, I had the feeling that I'd have loved to have been
working around the time of Newton when everything was up for
grabs. By contrast, the study of the mind right now is wide open,
and there's so much unexplored territory. At the same time, I'd
had a sort of amateurish interest in consciousness for a long
time, and would come up with various speculative theories of it
from time to time. Before I went to Oxford for graduate study in
mathematics, I spent six months hitch-hiking around Europe, and
spent a lot of time thinking about consciousness. By the time I
got to Oxford, I was obsessively trying to work things out. This
occupied my attention at the expense of mathematics, and I ended
up deciding to switch fields. A lot of my friends and family
thought I was crazy at the time, probably with some justification,
but I guess it worked out OK in the end.
My current work
really isn't very mathematical, though occasionally issues about
mathematics come up, which I always enjoy. I'd say that my
mathematical training is more relevant as training in a certain
sort of thinking: highly analytic and rigorous thinking in
abstract areas, guided by a sort of intuitive ability to see
patterns and connections. That's how a good mathematician works,
and it's the sort of thinking that a philosopher should aspire to.
Of course rigor comes much more naturally in mathematics than in
philosophy: it's inescapably built into the core methods of
mathematics, where things in philosophy are never so black and
white. People often think that a formal subject like mathematics
must be much harder than a less formal subject such as philosophy,
but my experience is the reverse: formalism makes a subject much
easier, because a formalism does so much of the work for you. So
philosophy is harder in a way, and you have to work hard to keep
yourself honest, but I think one can at least aspire to rigor.
Q: If you could have a discussion with any philosopher
or scientist no longer living, who would that person be? What are
some of the issues you would like to discuss or questions you would
like to ask?
I think it would have to be Descartes. He was both such an
interesting philosopher and so far ahead of his time as a
scientist. I think what I'd enjoy most is telling him about all
the developments in the last few centuries in both philosophy and
in cognitive science, and hearing his reactions. Somehow I suspect
that he'd get up to speed very quickly, and would have all sorts
of quite unexpected insights. Q: Regarding Consciousness
Studies, do you foresee it as a possible interdisciplinary
concentration or major on either the graduate or undergraduate level
in the near future? Would this major or concentration, as you
envision it, be most likely offered by a philosophy department? How
would such a major differ from current programs in cognitive
science?
I don't really see a need for degree programs in consciousness
studies distinct from those in cognitive science. Consciousness
studies is an area of cognitive science and should be treated as
such. People occasionally ask why our Center for Consciousness
Studies at Arizona doesn't have its own graduate program. Apart
from the fact that we don't have the resources, it would be crazy
to set up such a program, since students who graduate from it
would have nowhere to go. Instead, it's better for an interested
students to get a really good grounding in a traditional
discipline (philosophy, psychology, neuroscience), and at the same
time gain a lot of interdisciplinary exposure to work on
consciousness through courses, lab work, and so on. But that's
just the sort of thing that a good cognitive science program
(typically, a cognitive science minor or double major with another
discipline) will provide. It's just a matter of orienting the
selection of courses and so on in the right way.
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In this section of Cognitive
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