Humans dreamt before we awakened

I am reading some dense books:  Susanne Langer in Focus (again) by Robert C. Innis, Signs and the Play of Consciousness also by Innis, and Inside the Neolithic Mind by David Lewis-Williams and David Pearce.  The two by Innis are firmly in a philosophical tradition and so out of field and more difficult for me, though my knowledge of Langer helps with the first.  I have just started The Neolithic Mind and find it very interesting because of its eclectic approach and their insistence that our efforts to understand our ancestors must include our understanding of our brains.  Hallelujah!  Innis’ Signs covers John Dewey, C. S. Pierce, Karl Buhler, and Ernst Cassirer as Innis focuses on the search for the origins of meaning in our minds.  (All of these important sources for Langer’s thinking). While these philosophers are all (including Innis) deep thinkers, they do not base much of their analyses on neuroscience—granted that neuroscience in their day was a far cry from today’s, and giving Buhler credit for his grounding in biology.  Of course, as I re-read Innis on Langer I come again to her biological grounding.

As I read, trying to understand more and ponder what I do comprehend, I keep returning to an observation by the great Jaak Panksepp and his imaginative speculation about the evolution of being awake and dreaming.  I have mentioned this before but let me give the basics again.  Deep in the brainstem are two structures that exert control on waking and dreaming.  It is generally true that the lower the structure the earlier it appeared in evolution.  Jaak Panksepp noticed that the dreaming center is lower than the waking center and wondered about the implication, then, that dreaming appeared before waking.  His hypothesis to explain this is that when animals began to develop nervous systems the earlier lower center served an incipient consciousness.  As the brain evolved in complexity and developed a wake/sleep cycle shaping diurnal activity, this higher center took over the consciousness function and the lower center became the center for REM sleep and dreaming as a holdover from its incipient consciousness function.  Makes good sense.

But let me frame it just a wee bit differently.  Again as I have written before, I understand the words ‘sentience’ and ‘consciousness’ to mean two different things and believe that in doing so I am parsing the phenomena more accurately than those who confuse the two terms as nearly synonomous.  Or as Robert Innis might say, I am carving nature at the joints, like a good butcher should and not making artificial sections by sawing through bones.  So, sentience is a basic function of all life—the sensing of what lies outside the organism—basic because all life needs to take in selectively what it needs to sustain its living.  Consciousness can include sentient processing but is essentially what the organism brings to the table autonomously regardless of the external ambient and more responsive to the internal milieu and vital processes.  In Langer’s terms, sentience is the organism’s response to impact from outside, i.e., its exogenic response.  Consciousness is self-initiated activity, i.e., endogenic or autogenic actions derived from the ongoing matrix supporting life’s integrity.  (While mostly ignored, it is important to remember that the brain is never silent nor still—it is always carrying forward vital operations, mental life and intentional behaviors.)  Langer puts it another way as well:  The environment determines what is given (known through sentience), the organism determines what is taken (organized through consciousness)—the parenthetical remarks are mine.

Returning even deeper into the weeds of my swamp, sentience and consciousness, being two different phases, contribute to differing mental states depending upon whether they are in an active or positive phase.  In the chart below we see that when both sentient and conscious, we are fully awake. When sentient but not conscious, we are in a hypnotic state (more below).  When not sentient but conscious we dream (called REM sleep), and when neither sentient nor conscious we are in deep sleep (called slow wave sleep).

S        _____________________________________________________

E        |   +/+                             |   +/-                                               |

N    + |        awake                  |                hypnotic                      |

T        |                                     |                                                      |

I         |_____________________|______________________________ |

E        |   -/+                               |     -/-                                            |

N    –  |        dreaming             |                deep sleep                 |

C       |             (REM)               |                        (slow wave)       |

E        |_____________________ |______________________________|_

+                                             –


(sorry about the graph–it did not transfer well from my WORD program and I do not know nor have the energy to fix it–I trust you will get the idea).

Now the areas controlling awakening and dreaming that Panksepp discusses function more as switches by modulating neurotransmitters, especially the cholinergic system, flowing upwards into the midbrain and cortex.  The interplay between the neurotransmitter systems, e.g., dopamine, serotonin, etc. along with hormonal systems, e.g., growth hormone, make this aspect of neural functioning a real swamp of complexity.  It is not just the connectome, i.e., the connections between neurons firing away with each other, but also the chemical interplay that contributes to such a mess.

So, when I put up a matrix with 4 cells, that is for heuristic purposes only; clear and discrete functional categories are probably unicorns.  Still, we are sometimes awake, asleep deeply in various stages, asleep and dreaming vigorously, and sometimes spaced out in what I have called hypnotic states.  I could have used a more traditional term, ‘dissociative’, but chose not to for various reasons that are irrelevant right now.  My usual example for this state is highway hypnosis—when you are driving while fatigued or stressed and find yourself 20 miles down the road or even at your destination with no memory of actively managing the trip.  You must have, else you would have wrecked, so you were sentient and processing environmental contingencies to act accordingly, but you were not conscious of it.

The important thing here is that sentience and consciousness each come with varying degrees of what I will term acuity, i.e., heightened focus and broadened attention to figure and/or ground, and then the two, sentience and consciousness, interact to blend into a mostly unified experience. I bring all of this up stimulated by my current readings and remembering Panksepp’s observation about waking and dreaming.  A couple of specifics from my readings before closing out this post.  Innis in his books Signs and Langer emphasizes in several places that these thinkers, concerned with the incipience of significance and symbolization, kept ‘pushing the origins downward’.  Signification is not the end result of higher level processing but its beginning, and it begins with perception and, given Panksepp’s notion of consciousness as an early neurological primitive of mind, arises from deep within.  Langer posits that we humans are driven to symbolize and that even our earliest intuitions that arise from non-conscious processes are transformed by such symbolization.

Now consider Lewis-Williams and Pearce’s Inside the Neolithic Mind and their advocacy for a cognitive approach to archeology, one that is grounded in neuroscience.  They seek to understand the experiential basis of beliefs in the supernatural, the origins of ancient cosmologies that encompassed both material and spiritual domains, and the effects of such thinking and beliefs on society and especially religious practices.  And one major thrust here is that prehistoric humans entered into altered states of consciousness through a variety of means in order to explore the developing cosmology, i.e., dream world, in which the natural and supernatural worlds interacted.

Hmmm.  Is that brilliant or what?

They document many ways humans have modulated their sentience/consciousness balance, i.e., entered into altered states:  psychotropics, pain, sleep deprivation, intense rhythmic dancing, auditory-driving eg clapping, drumming, chanting, etc., meditation, etc.  Our ancestors engaged widely through states altered to comprise different degrees of sentience and consciousness, e.g., sentiently aware of drumming and the dance, conscious of a subjectively construed spiritual domain.  Those humans who had a talent for altering the balance in this way were able to assume shamanic roles more easily.  Lewis-Williams and Pearce think that certain cosmological constants, i.e., features virtually universal among us, including lower, middle and upper spiritual realms as well as flying, experiencing travel through a vortex, etc., are grounded in neurological functioning.  Cosmology through metaphorical thinking is thus embodied (as was demonstrated by George Lakoff and Mark Johnson in Metaphors We Live By).  With this theoretical frame Lewis-Williams and Pearce go on to examine the archeological findings of Neolithic humans such as the earliest permanent settlements in the Near East and the monuments of western Europe, such as the henges and tombs, e.g., Stonehenge or Newgrange.  Again, Lewis-Williams and Pearce find archeological evidence that such ‘hypnotic’ states were quite important in developing human culture.

So we dreamt before we awakened, and our dreams to this day color our waking moments.  This is not just the wonderful mysticism of William Blake and other poets; it is also the paradox Panksepp confronted in the data from the evolution of neural structures:   “it is remarkable how far down in the brain stem the executive mechanisms for REM sleep are situated. . . .  Are we to believe that REM mechanisms are somewhat older than waking ones?  However unlikely this may seem on the face of it, the above brain localizations coax us to consider such an absurdity”.  I am not sure of the absurdity; Zen teaches us that the subjective-objective split is an illusion, and dreams are often a greater source of insight than waking.  And then we have Blake and Yeats.

Finally, imagine this scenario from long ago: a group of apes, hominids really, gathered around a fire on a freezing cold night after ingesting a special mushroom.  They cannot take their eyes from the flames flickering into the dark, entranced by the dance of shadows and light, always facing the warm flames and embers, dreaming of another time and place,  they freeze their tails off.  Voila!  Humanity.

Review: Homo Aestheticus

I finished Ellen Dissanayake’s Homo Aestheticus: Where art comes from and why (1992) about two weeks ago and have been pondering over what to write. It seems an important book and I wondered why I did not find it sooner. I first became aware of her and her writings in a more recent book, The Origins of Music, which I have mentioned here before (see posts 1/11/16, 3/12/16, 3/26/16). I appreciate several of her ideas but am puzzled (at least) by one aspect of her thought, and she is dismissive about Susanne Langer for some reason so of course I have a quibble there. Onward.

Her central hypothesis is that art is best conceived as ‘making special’ and that art is an important evolutionary factor in our successful adaptation. She brings forth many examples from her own and others’ ethological studies to show that art is a phenomenon of everyday life, or has been until recently (very recently in our evolutionary past) when we began to segregate art into some category of fine art produced by few and enjoyed by a few more of the privileged. Not just making special, I guess, but making extra special (or all too precious, isn’t it?). Western culture, especially I think in the more mercantile, industrial and commercial aspects, e.g. USA, has minimized the importance of the arts, looking down on artistic activity as a lower form of intelligent activity or as simply a financial transaction. Of course, this is nonsense and Ms. Dissanayake does a wonderful job of correcting it.

She also resurrects what she says is an antiquated notion of ‘aesthetic empathy.’ Art, i.e., making special, involves not the pleasure of perceived forms but the pleasure of the feelings evoked or carried by those forms and more especially, making those forms. Regular readers here will understand when I say I did not know the concept was antiquated. I am not up on art theory or criticism but evidently, like so much of our cognitively oriented theorizing, the idea that feelings or emotions are important is also downplayed there, even shunned. As I have done here in the past she poses the parallel between the surface and deep structure of language (sound and meaning) and the surface and deep structure of art, e.g., music or painting or dance and their import.

What puzzles me is that Ms. Dissanayake rather insists that art need not be symbolic. In its inception ‘making special’ is akin, to use one of her examples, to a male bower bird’s nest making in which he ornaments his bower with stones, shells, and other found objects; the ‘prettier’ the bower, the more success he has in mating and passing on his (and her) genes. And much of our art is ornamentation, whether it be shaping a tool to a pleasing state or decorating skin etc. Likewise singing can be an enlivening accompaniment to activity with little seeming import though it seems to me still to express feelings.

I have written before about bower birds (see post 11/12/14). Consider this: when does a bowerbird know the nest is finished? For that matter, when do any birds know when their nest is finished? I have never heard this being discussed before but I suspect that the birds fuss about until the eggs are laid, or at least the mate selected, because after that the effort would have little payoff. Human ‘making special’ covers many creative activities in a variety of modalities the boundaries of which, i.e., the beginning and finishing of the action, come from within the mind of the artist. Does the ornamentation indicate social status or tribal membership or its workman or does it result from whiling away a moment? At some point early on in the development of this way of acting, i.e., making special, form (and necessarily the more or less complete rendition from a mental gestalt) became important, and that form expresses some complex of feelings and thinking. This is not the empathic or kinesic communication of current emotional states or even the signal of reproductive vitality, but the symbolic rendering or representation of something more complex, a conveyance of subjective experience. I am sure that even ornamentation does this for humans; I am not so sure that some proto-symbolic process does not operate for bowerbirds—that is the message of Frans de Waals most recent book, Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are.

bird bower

A few more shells placed just so and I can put this nest on the market.

It seems to me that two different definitions of symbol are at play here. One is that idea of an art symbol, e.g., a cross symbolizes the crucifixion, Jung’s archetypes, Godot whoever he is, Eliot’s wasteland the human condition, Picasso’s screaming horse in Guernica, etc. These are really like tropes (verbal or otherwise) where elements are used artistically to represent or signify particular ideas or feelings. The other definition of the symbol comes from semiotics, say from C. S. Pierce on to Ernst Cassirer and modern linguistics. These are symbols that result from neuropsychological processes to represent ‘things’ and thereby allows us to control abstract information mentally and to communicate specifics either linguistically or artistically. I think maybe Ms. Dissanayake talks more about the first type when the second is the more relevant.

This issue brings up what I think Ms. Dissanayake misunderstands about Langer when she says that, for Langer, “aesthetic experience is a response to ‘presentational symbolism’.” (page 237) No, for Langer, aesthetic experience is rendered and communicated through presentational symbols. The symbol’s import is an aesthetic experience, i.e., the symbolic elements composing the symbol are the felt significances of the colors or sounds or words in the composition. These are not ‘responses’ but symbolic forms a person has composed from his or her subjective, vital and particular experience so that others may comprehend this work of their subjective space, i.e., their mind. Sounds without meaning are not words and tones or colors or forms or body movement without import are nothing special. And yes, this is clearly an evolutionarily important biological trait of our species, at the least.

Ms. Dissanayake writes that “Langer does not consider art as a selectively valuable behavior in human evolution”. (page 242) This misstates Langer’s position a good deal; following Feeling and Form in 1953, she spent decades writing a 3 volume work, Mind: An Essay on Human Feeling, arguing that art is one of the highest forms of biological activity. Her effort was premature historically, i.e., she was ahead of her time and developments since then have changed our paradigms a great deal. Just before she died she half finished volume 3 in 1982, a few years after Jacques Monod made the case in Chance and Necessity for molecular biology as the exclusive basis of life and several years before E.O. Wilson and others laid the basis for sociobiology. Furthermore, she was also too early to incorporate the profound developments Chomskyian linguistics and information science and technology engendered in our understanding of psychology and neuroscience. (This makes all the more remarkable Langer’s elevation of virtual information back in the 1950s). So, yes, Langer did not understand modern evolutionary theory but she certainly did understand that the human mind was a biological product of evolution. Likewise she did not understand that the human mind, while distinctive (or species-centric in Dissanayake’s term), is not that different from the minds of other animals. As I heard Frans de Waal say on the radio last week, it is not that human intelligence needs to be lowered but that we need to elevate the place of other animals’ intelligences.

Finally, the last chapter in Homo Aestheticus presents a refutation of sorts to post modern art theory and criticism. I was mystified by some of the concerns here; it is not within my ken, but I think I understood from her account that post-modernism is rather sterile, elitist, and counter to any view of art as vital, organic and evolutionary. If that is so, I certainly hope her refutation is taken seriously, and I hope I can keep better company than those who espouse such poppycock.

Anyway, read Home Aestheticus. Ms. Dissanayake aptly discusses that the variety of ways humans make art, think of art, and consider the world is truly spectacular, that art is clearly an important biological result from evolution, and that art is, after all, following Langer, one of the highest organic responses. Travel on.

Re-read 4.0: Susanne Langer on Music

If you have followed this blog the past few months, you know that I have been reading and thinking about the neuroscience of music. If you have followed this blog for a bit longer, you know that one of the best benefits of my retirement is to re-read some books I read long ago. And many also know that I revere Susanne Langer in this regard.


As a child her family called her “Waldhexe” or ‘witch of the woods’ for the time she spent wandering there.

So last week with a snow storm in progress I re-read 3 chapters on music in Susanne Langer’s 1953 book, Feeling and Form, in which she developed a theory of art, basing it really upon the aesthetics of music, from her 1942 book, Philosophy in a New Key. The key here is symbolism. She would later in the 1960s and 70s carry her philosophical ideas towards biological realms. In Feeling and Form she developed the concept of virtual images into a highly potent philosophical concept, this before the age of computers and at the dawn of modern neuroscience. As it turns out, she was helped by a 1920s essay by Basil de Selincourt, “Music and Duration” in which he “distinguished, clearly and explicitly, between the actual and the virtual,” i.e., we listen to music both physically and mentally. Seems an obvious beginning for a path to understanding.

What a flood of memories rushed upon me when I read the following passage as she discussed the organizing principle of rhythm in life and music: “The most characteristic principle of vital activity is rhythm. All life is rhythmic; under difficult circumstances, its rhythms may become very complex, but when they are really lost life cannot long endure. This rhythmic character of life permeates music, because music is a symbolic representation of the highest organic response, the emotional life of human beings.”

This struck me in 1970, as it strikes me now, as profoundly true and obviously so. Ah, I was younger then and naïve; I am older now and less naïve and so can hope that we can raise our appraisal of art to match that of what might be considered our colder activities, and indeed, current neuropsychology increasingly demonstrates that even these ‘colder’ intellections are based upon feelings, upon intuitive impulses arising from our mind’s depths. This is my motivation for repeatedly discussing here Langer’s distinction between discursive, e.g.,language, and presentational, e.g., art, symbols and to pursue further understanding of how empathy and symbolization contribute to our humanity, e.g., the neuroscience of music. In 1970 Chomskyian linguistics was replacing the sterile paradigm of behaviorism and cognitive psychology was participating in the incipience of information sciences, its algorithms, modules, etc. Art then, as it had often been and is still viewed by many, was considered ‘messy’ and less of an intellectual product (and to reflect the chauvinism then and now, a feminine thing), but Dr. Langer’s writings, her intellectual life’s work actually, demonstrated the opposite, that art is one of humanity’s highest intellectual achievements and one with deep biological roots. Thanks again, Dr. Langer. Some will travel on from here now, but I will rest and enjoy the glow (and watch the snowpack melt).


Questionable quibbles

Dr. Marder of the last post said that when we finally do map out the connectome, we will have only begun to understand the processes and their myriad forms. This brings up the old question, can a brain understand itself? Or will we forever (?) pursue this understanding the same as we do for the universe at large? Can a smaller, less complex (and differently grown or constructed) system understand the larger, more complex system? Only as a model or simulation is the easy, if incomplete answer here.

Connectome picture

Connectome picture

I have also finished E. O. Wilson’s On Human Nature, an excellent read. I very much appreciated his perspective on the integration among biological science, the humanities and social sciences. I obtained my PhD in psychology and have maintained that such departments would be better placed in a school of biology. Anyway, I monitor my reading with my bias towards more vitalistic conceptions and generally disagree with how some phenomena are viewed through a mechanistic metaphor. I found this same old quibble in chapter 9. Here I reacted strongly to Dr. Wilson’s statement that “The mind will be more precisely explained as an epiphenomenon of the neuronal machinery of the brain“. And there I find my difference. Reminding myself from Merriam-Webster that an ‘epiphenomon’ results from other processes and has no causal power, I bring up my usual questionable quibble: Is the mind only a secondary result that can exert no causal power, i.e., an epiphenomenon, or does the mind primarily cause some things, i.e., a phenomenon?

If you have followed this blog I hope you know that I see the mind as the latter, an exceedingly important (to us anyway) phenomenon with a special sense and agency of specific focus. In this I do not discount the evidence from meditation, hypnosis, pain, relief and, dare I say it, placebo medicine, even as I focus on the social emotions, empathic connection and symbolic communication. Memes are mental, mindful productions beyond the epiphenomenal limits, as are art and other sorts of presentational symbols (and I won’t address discursive symbols right now). It is easy to see that the mind has some power.

Some may quibble that mindful actions are determined and not free. In this I follow William James that his first act of free will is to assert that he has free will. Some may quibble that the underlying neurological processes do all the work, not the conscious (embodied) mind itself. In this I follow W.B. Yeats’ final couplet in Among School Children,

Oh body swayed to music, oh brightening glance,

How can we know the dancer from the dance?

And I follow Dr. Langer who certainly taught that understanding life’s vitality in our embodied mind is important to our understanding of human mentality, which brings us back to my usual quibble that remembering and conceptualizing our brains as organically vital is important and that a mechanistic view forgets this along the way, i.e., is an increasingly inept way of seeing the phenomena. While our brain does operate very rapid processes through the quantum discharge of electrical potentials, these pulses are in the service of controlling chemical (hormonal and oh, so many neurotransmitters) release and re-uptake, that then go on to manage the rather isomorphic electrical impulses. A beautiful arrangement with very few, if indeed any, hardwires. So look back at the connectome and see a wonderful soup with small, brief lightning flashes continuing to mix it up. Delicious!

Often I close by saying, “Travel on,” but this seems a lovely place to rest and let it cook for a bit.