It is like something to be me.

It is like something to be you.

But I will never know you as you know you.

And you can never know me as I know me.

We share with our fellow humans limited access and a narrow degree of understanding of our own private and unique realities. As best as we can determine, we each carry our own singular sense of self — our own subjective existences. In fact, I can only speak for myself in making such a declaration. I can only assume you exist within your own subjective self, one which is largely similar to my own. Still, I can never know for sure. I am unable to peer into, never mind climb into, your experience, your feelings, your manner of thinking. We are like members of an archipelago, separate but united communally.

Consciousness is that mysterious and miraculous continuance, that profound set of impressions we encounter as a consequence of being alive. It is as fundamental to our experience of reality as is the awareness of our own body. One could think that something so elemental to our identity must be generally well understood given the amount of investigation so many have done simply by living various levels of examined lives over so many millennia.

However, consciousness is not thoroughly understood within a widely accepted theory. There is no universally agreed upon principle or law which fully explains its generation and sustenance. No highly esteemed philosopher or scientist has revealed the immutably true and comprehensive nature of consciousness. Conventional wisdom suggests we all experience consciousness, but beyond that, those who ponder and speculate about the etiology of such an esoteric yet personal topic like consciousness are not in agreement about its causation, meaning, or purpose.

For many of us, there comes a time in our lives in which find ourselves motivated to consider how it is we have the mind we have — to think about how we think. This involves a meta-cognition or self-analysis of how we think, and by extension, how we also feel and behave. We realize that the reach and complexity of our minds is vast leaving us each with enormous potential to live rich lives. When we stop to think about it, I believe most of us conclude that it is truly remarkable that we can perceive such resplendence and fullness through our minds.

I have wondered if I should think about consciousness and mind as synonymous. When listening to and reading the philosophers and scientists discuss consciousness the topic appears twofold. Some do consider mind and consciousness as one in the same, albeit with some nuanced connotational differences at times. Others view consciousness as a realm in and of itself detached from the rational and sensorial mind we use to cope environmentally.

I see consciousness and mind as inseparably linked. Does consciousness beget mind or does mind beget consciousness? Neither. They are one and the same phenomenon, a marvel of the universe. The Logos, or generative spirit, is saying that to be complete All-There-Is must have an observer. We have minds illuminated by consciousness to be this observer.

At least that is what I think. But who am I?

What I am is an observer, a beholder of what is.

Self-discovery motivates.

Let’s look to see what is behind the next door.

This matters because to exist matters. And a big part of existing is to pay attention. We have a mind that allows us to be aware of reality. (Whatever reality is.) For now, I choose to be amazed at what I have spent the better part of lifetime taking for granted. That I can think rationally, feel sensations, have memory, speculate about the future, and notice the present moment is spectacular enough. But to take the position, as I am, that our consciousness, our mindfulness, our self-awareness is a direct bond to the core of universality, spiritualism, and the Logos is audacious but also comforting.

As humans, I believe we have to have faith in something. I say this as someone who has been skeptical, even suspicious, of faith. Faith has connoted dogma, rigidity, and closed mindedness to me. Age has softened this stance. I now see faith as a form of value adoption. Values give us purpose, a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Faith does something similar, perhaps even grander. It can give us a reason to live.

To have faith says we put our heart, mind, and soul into a belief. To be sure, how steadfast we are in our faith depends on incoming data. We have to allow for degrees of malleability regarding our faith. (Something a religious person would probably disagree with.) Nevertheless, resting our convictions on a bed of probability, even believability, is grounding and worth the attachment to certainty — however fleeting it may be.

I have faith in mindfulness, or consciousness as I will refer to it from this point on, as an expression of the sacred. We are born with this capacity to know of ourselves and others. Consciousness presents us with senses and mental ability to comprehend and to interpret. Some say this aptitude is nothing more than an evolutionary result of learning to grapple with survival in a hostile environment since life on this planet began. Or that consciousness is an illusory outcome of neural operations with little more biological significance than walking or digesting. I think consciousness is too majestic an occurrence to be lightly dismissed or rendered mundane. Its place in the universe could be every bit as imposing as material substance, space, time, and electromagnetism.

I seek to know what lessons can be learned concerning consciousness from history. I begin as I have by stating my premise or my belief that consciousness is not accidental or ancillary, but rather exists as a result of a necessary cosmic design born of the Logos, the generative spirit, the spark propagating all that there is. Some may call this originating energy God. And if it were not for the distracting and unsettling anthropomorphizing imagery of religion I would be fine with the label.

Regardless, I pursue an investigation of consciousness from my vantage point as stated for two reasons. One, I want to reveal why I have come to see consciousness as more than a happenstance of biology, but rather as a gateway to the One, the Logos. Secondly, I realize that this topic is voluminous and will occupy much of my remaining years. So, in the the spirit of learning I want to see what more there is to ascertain at this point in time.

Self-awareness, the most individual of perceptions

My mind, my viewpoint, my existence

Universal consciousness, the most inclusive of conceptions

Our minds, our viewpoints, our existences

Speculation on the origins of self-awareness and the nature of consciousness is at least thousands of years old as evidenced by recorded history across a variety of cultures. Undoubtedly, people have pondered the roots of their being and existence for far longer. Whether through the application of knowledge to better cope and thrive within a challenging environment or through deep contemplation and penetrating self-examination during moments of relative peace, humans have considered the existential meaning of life. It is by way of a review of the milestones of philosophic history that we can trace the development of phenomenological or subjective human thought.

I begin this investigation with ancient Indian philosophy. The Upanishads is a scriptural authority comprised of ancient Sanskrit texts composed collectively between circa 800 BCE to circa 200 BCE. The anthology focuses on philosophical and spiritual teachings and guidance. The Upanishads, along with the Bhagavad Gita and the Brahma Sutras, constitute the Vedanta philosophy, one of the principal schools of Hinduism.

Credit must be given to the Indo-Aryans, an early branch of today’s populations of the Asian sub-continent and the speakers of ancient Sanskrit. They burst forth with a bold and intrepid recognition of and interpretation of consciousness. The Upanishads, a product of the Indo-Aryans, delves extensively into everything philosophical and spiritual from metaphysics to practical guidance for daily living. But one topic it explores keenly is the nature of consciousness.

The Upanishads distinguishes between the universal consciousness, known as Brahman, and the consciousness of the individual or soul, known as Atman. In this tradition, Brahman is true reality and is present everywhere and in everything throughout the universe. Atman is a manifestation of Brahman. The individual consciousness is an expression of the supreme reality. This unity suggests that each person, indeed each particle of the universe, carries within it the divine — the everlasting, pervasive, immutable, and sublime essence of reality.

Establishment of Hinduism relied significantly on The Upanishads. And in turn, Buddhism evolved from Hinduism. However, Buddhism does not identify consciousness as an immutable construct of the self. Indeed, Buddhism does not even recognize the existence of a self as is conventionally done in most other traditions. Rather, Buddhism views consciousness as a churn of internal psychological states of mind and sensory reactions to experiences that lacks permanence or innate substance.

Buddhism tells individuals that consciousness is a quality to be overcome. Meditation teaches us to confront the capriciousness of consciousness head on by not letting its seductive illusion of permanence or its unstable push and pull of impressions occupy our mental states. Since consciousness appears and abates constantly, Buddhism teaches us to let it pass and to not let it define us. Indeed, to transcend consciousness is to become enlightened.

Ancient Chinese philosophy, particularly Daoism, approaches consciousness similarly to the Upanishads in that self-realization is believed to be inextricably linked to the Dao, known as The Way or the foundation of nature. Dao is a similar concept to the universal consciousness of the Indo-Aryans, Brahman. It forms the basis of all individuals’ consciousness. The task in this life for each of us is to be in harmony with the natural rhythm and current of Dao. This is accomplished through a life of dedication, meditation, contemplation, and ethical practice.

The other grand philosophical tradition of ancient China, Confucianism, is less metaphysical or ontological about consciousness. Rather it sees self-awareness and mindfulness as an integral aspect of being human and one that is enhanced through moral practices that encourage strong relationships, sound personal behavior, and social solidarity. Personal growth and development, moral refinement, and social concord are best achieved by devoted individuals each acting on improving the quality of their respective consciousnesses.

The ancient Greek philosophers saw the importance of consciousness emerging as part of their engrossment in metaphysics and ontology (the branch of philosophy concerned with existence and being). As they attempted to understand the nature of the universe and reality, consciousness was seen as integral to the notion of soul, a necessary component of comprehending reality. Plato and Aristotle presented the individual soul as multifaceted with consciousness playing a critical part in the mind’s ability to reason. Reason, perception, and thought were believed to be essential functions to being human and not possible without consciousness.

More recently, the Islamic world also pontificated on the importance of consciousness. The notable hallmark of the Islamic position was to emphasize a linkage between consciousness and the divine. All pervasive reality is equivalent to Allah and consciousness is an expression of Allah. Furthermore, consciousness provides humans with an intellect to better unite with and to celebrate the wonder of Allah or reality. Intellect is seen as a most prominent part of the soul, because through it we can comprehend and appreciate how unified are the ontological truths about the existence of Allah.

I see my dog across the room.

How did the dog come to exist?

What is the story of the dog’s past?

What is the purpose of the dog?

Should I take an action because of the dog?

These questions do not need answers.

These questions do not matter.

All that matters is my experience of seeing my dog across the room.

Plotinus (circa 204-270) was born in Egypt. When he was forty years old Plotinus moved to Rome and there founded a school of philosophy. The philosophy he spawned would become a principal philosophical ideology from the third century to the middle of the seventh century, roughly the time spanning the fall of Rome to the Muslim invasion of Europe at Andalucía. What gave power to this system of thought was that it was an amalgamation or fusion of centuries of pre-Socratic through Aristotelian inquiry that was heavily influenced by Platonism and Stoicism. Today we call this school of the western philosophical tradition Neoplatonism.

The Neoplatonists helped to seal monism as the preferred way to perceive deity or the divine. The One, The First, The Being, The Good, or as the Neoplatonists said, Nous, was paid homage to as the single point of creation, the sole source of all reality. Among the attributes of Nous is the desire to create consciousness. This allows Nous to observe itself, to look both out and in. Out to its emerging reality. Then back in so as to continuously reconnect with its virtuous self. Consciousness is nous insistently and incessantly understanding itself. And a piece of consciousness is carried to each emergent entity within reality, such as ourselves.

Consciousness became a serious rumination of several philosophers in the continental western tradition beginning with Rene Descartes (1596-1650) in the seventeenth century. Descartes legitimized a philosophy of mind, which included consciousness, self-awareness, and soul as a critical non-material “substance” and which is separate in nature from the physical form or body. Underpinning the Cartesian approach to philosophy was his renowned proclamation “Cogito, ergo sum” (I think, therefore I am). This assertion placed the mind at the essential core of his philosophical inquiry.

However, it was philosophy’s German Idealism movement during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries that elevated and developed consciousness as fundamental in modern philosophy. German Idealism also set up consciousness as worthy of scientific investigation during the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. This chapter in western philosophy was dominated by two individuals primarily, Kant and Hegel.

During the years between Descartes and the advent of German Idealism, which began with Immanuel Kant (1724-1804), western philosophy had become an intellectual conflict between a reliance on rationalism, based geographically on the European continent, and empiricism, centered in Britain. Rationalism stressed the notion that the innate human capacity to think and to reason was the key to unlocking a comprehension of reality. Precise deductive and mathematical methods rigorously applied would reveal God’s design. In Britain, an alternative to the dependency on reason developed. Empiricism insisted that the knowledge humans needed to understand reality derived primarily from sensory experience. We can only know what the senses detect and to speculate beyond what sensory input displays lacks verification and credibility.

Kant, a native of Prussia, set out to discover a third way, a reconciliation between rationalism and empiricism. This mediation began with Kant’s revelation of the transcendental self. Also known as transcendental idealism, it is a concept placing consciousness at the nexus of the mind’s ability to both reason logically and to detect and to unify sensory experiences. Consciousness is an underlying subjectivity that makes possible all human cognition. It is an inborn and active instrument allowing us to perceive, systematize, and produce knowledge. Yes, we are limited by our mind’s power and potential, but regardless consciousness permits us to be both rationale and empirical in assessing reality. The mind started to stand on center stage across western philosophy more than it ever had before.

Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770-1831), originally from Stuttgart, continued the philosophical work of Kant by again placing consciousness at the nucleus of his idealistic project. Hegel viewed consciousness developmentally beginning with a primary stage that involved raw sense perception. As an individual matures their consciousness expands in sophistication such that thought is more capable of observing ever more keenly, of organizing and categorizing observable content, and of gaining more self-identification. In time, the mind progresses to think abstractly and realize global premises and fundamentals. Hegel claims that the ultimate stage of consciousness is when it accepts unity with what he called the absolute spirit, a concept akin to understanding universal principles.

Hegel’s absolute spirit is the peak of the consciousness pyramid, in which the consciousness of each person becomes conjoined and all-pervasive reaching a level of fundamentalism and universality that explains reality inclusively such that history, culture, and the collective energy of all individuals’ consciousnesses is engaged. There is a strong resemblance of the Indo-Aryan’s Brahman or universal consciousness in Hegel’s absolute spirit. This culmination of consciousness according to Hegel results in each person having a clearer self-understanding, an awareness of their place within their culture and the world, and a firmer knowledge about universal truth and reality.

Edmund Husserl (1859-1938), an Austrian-German, brought structure to a philosophy of consciousness, which had actually been practiced for centuries, but which did not have a distinct name. Phenomenology is the label Husserl chose. He defined this philosophy as “the science of the essence of consciousness”. By this, Husserl concentrated on first-person and subjective experiences as of fundamental importance. And crucial to this view is that consciousness necessarily functions with intentionality. What we see, hear, imagine, think, feel, wish, desire, will, or act upon involves external objects of our attention. Consciousness does not exist in isolation. It is a consciousness of something. It is how we make meaning of our world.

Phenomenology motivated a multitude of philosophical and psychological writers to explore the notion of first-person experience well into the twentieth century. Examples include the pragmatic approach of American William James (1842-1910), who saw consciousness as a continuous and shifting stream of perceptions designed to allow us to adjust to our environments; the British mathematician and philosopher Alfred North Whitehead (1861-1947), noted for theorizing that consciousness or subjectivity exists in all entities of the cosmos; and the French existentialists Jean-Paul Sartre (1905-1980) and Simone de Beauvoir (1908-1986), who emphasized the ultimate conscious freedom inherent in each person to authentically and meaningfully exist as they choose in the face of the outpouring of perils life throws at us.

“The brain is locked in total darkness, of course children”, says the voice. “It floats in a clear liquid inside the skull, never in the light. And yet the world it constructs in the mind is full of light. It brims with color and movement. So how, children, does the brain, which lives without a spark of light, build for us a world full of light?“

Anthony Doerr from All the Light We Cannot See

In 1994 at the University if Arizona a conference was convened entitled, “Toward a Science of Consciousness”. Dr. Stuart Hameroff, an anesthesiologist and psychologist, and Dr. David Chalmers, a philosopher and cognitive scientist, invited a multidisciplinary group of researchers and scholars to share knowledge regarding the constitution of consciousness. Intellectuals and academics from fields as diverse as neuroscience, psychology, philosophy, computer science, physics, and anthropology met for five days to unpack five consciousness related themes:

• Neural Correlates of Consciousness
• Philosophical Perspectives
• Consciousness and Quantum Physics
• Altered States of Consciousness
• Artificial Intelligence and Consciousness

No such conference had ever been held before. “Toward a Science of Consciousness” ushered in the contemporary study of consciousness that is continuing to this day. The Science of Consciousness conference, as it is now called, is an annual event at The Center for Consciousness Studies at the University of Arizona. As the title of the conference suggests, science and philosophy are now conjoined in the modern approach to consciousness studies. This fusion could be seen as an advancement of sorts. Up until then science, with possibly a few exceptions, had a mostly hands-off approach to consciousness. Science seemed content to leave the topic in the hands of philosophy and religion.

The historic gap between science and philosophy regarding consciousness was best encapsulated by David Chalmers at the 1994 conference when he distinguished between the Hard Problem of Consciousness and the “easy problems” of consciousness. By easy problems he was referring to the successes of neurology and psychology in discovering how neural networks and cognitive functions had been identified to explain mental operations such as perception, focus, and memory. But what science and philosophy had not yet done was to explain how physical mechanisms of the brain could yield subjective experiences and sensations, in other words what it is like to be me and you. That is the Hard Problem. Solving the easy problems has not yielded the intrinsic nature of consciousness.

What Chalmers is describing is the latest in a long line of versions of what is known as the mind-body problem. Since at least Plato and Aristotle philosophers and other thinkers have pondered and theorized about consciousness/mind/soul and its relationship to the physical or material body. Conjecture ranges across a span from consciousness being a by-product of physical processes in the brain to mind and body being comprised of different qualities able to exist side by side. In short, this is a physicalism-dualism spectrum. There remains no consensus as to a solution of the mind-body problem.

There is, however, one approach that may offer hope to resolving the issue of whether consciousness emanates from physical activity such as brain functions or if it co-exists separately but in tandem with the body. Panpsychism is a theory which may mediate between physicalism and its inability to precisely explain the emergence of consciousness from bodily material and dualism which does not satisfy our need to know how mind and matter truly interact. Panpsychism proposes that consciousness or mentality is intrinsic to and a basic characteristic of the universe. Each entity or being in the universe possesses within its core a degree of sentience, an element of subjectivity. If this were true, dualism as a concept would become inoperative and physicalism would lose its catalytic power to generate consciousness.

“There ain’t any answer, there ain’t going to be any answer, there never has been any answer, that’s the answer.”

Gertrude Stein from Brewsie and Willie 

I expressed earlier on in this piece an inclination toward having faith in the sacredness of consciousness. This belief is reinforced as I review my historic summary of subjective awareness. In particular, certain episodes of this consciousness analysis over the ages resonate with me more acutely than others. Intellect and emotion are sparked by some of these descriptions to such a degree that I am left to feel, “That sounds right. This makes sense. I think this could be true.” I accept that my truth may be at odds with your truth. Absolute truths, assuming they exist, are surprisingly elusive. We may have to agree to disagree. If so, that is fine.

When I read in The Upanishads about the account of Brahman, the universal consciousness, and Atman, the individual’s consciousness, then I nod my head in agreement. Contemplating the Dao as the cornerstone of nature and of all consciousness resonates with me. I accept the notion put forth and explored by Plato and Aristotle, and later picked up by the Christians, that we have a soul, which may very well be consciousness, mentality, mind, and spiritual awareness all rolled into one. Yes, the Neoplatonists were onto something when declaring consciousness as a means for The One to reflect upon itself. And the German idealists were shrewd to recognize the total necessity of mind or awareness as a means to understanding reality.

At present, I am left asking myself, what is it that really grabs my attention and imagination from the times we are now living? What will occupy the consciousness branch of my philosophical studies for the foreseeable future? At this point in my learning I see the following schools of thought as warranting the greatest attention and consideration — the ongoing speculative influences of phenomenology, idealism, and panpsychism. My interest in contemporary philosophy is centered on phenomenology, idealism, and panpsychism because they all bring what I see to be different, but related and valuable perspectives on the origins, impact, and reach of consciousness.

Phenomenology is immensely rewarding in accepting as substantial the ephemeral but precious conception of sentient experience. Phenomenology provides a permission structure for modern people to not be so tightly wedded to science as consciousness is examined, but to instead accept that the first person viewpoint carries significant weight, even if the origins of subjectivity cannot be definitively explained by science or by any other empirical method. The effect of phenomenology remains profound as we consider the connection between the self and reality. By exploring the foundations of lived experience we are able to get a more full picture of what human existence and reality are.

Idealism is philosophy’s way of saying the mind is preeminent in perceiving reality and all physicalism or materialist interpretations of reality are at least subordinate to mentality, if not otherwise hopelessly misguided. Idealism is a radical, but largely plausible attempt to challenge realism. Realism states that there exists a reality out there which is independent of our minds. According to idealism, our Cartesian brainwashing leaves most of us convinced that realism is true. But idealism, with its emphasis on the supremacy of mentality, and by extension consciousness, leads us to think otherwise. Philosopher Thelma Lavine puts it this way, “Idealism holds that ultimate reality is mental and that seemingly monumental things such as material objects are reducible to the ideas of consciousness or mind.”

In short, panpsychism represents a sea change in how the contemplation of consciousness is now taking place. Thanks to the panpsychist view, gone are the days of a wholly revered physicalism which at best could say that consciousness was the result of material processes not involving consciousness, as in neural activity. Instead, it is becoming more accepted among philosophers to think of human and animal consciousness as comprised of, or at least influenced by, more fundamental iterations of consciousness — a form of reductionism, if you will. The mind-body distinction has taken the study of consciousness to an impasse. Panpsychism may be a way for us to escape the cul-de-sac.

This summation of consciousness as viewed philosophically is a developing venture on my part. I will not be surprised to have shifted my way of thinking about it sooner rather than later. That said, my core interest in this topic and my reverence for the miracle of consciousness will not abate. Indeed, I will cling to and try to comprehend my consciousness as I do my life itself — as if they were one in the same.

Sometimes in life we find that what initially appear to be separate and discreet interests can converge to form a compelling composite which begs to be explored. When this occurs in the context of trying to live an examined life, then a stimulating and energizing endeavor is launched. For me lately, by which I mean the past three years or so, that is occurring at the intersection of philosophy and physics. Let me explain.

As anyone who may have taken any time over the last couple of years to read my essay posts, it is likely obvious that I have been enamored with philosophy of late. There are several reasons for this attraction. For one, as a retiree I have the good fortune of having the mental health and available time to engage in an academic exercise, such as studying philosophy and to the extent I can comprehend it, its companion and contemporary discipline, quantum mechanics. These topics have held my interest for many years, but while living the working life I never could devote the necessary time and concentration required to make any lasting sense of these subjects.

Beyond simply having time and casual interest in philosophy and physics I am drawn to these areas of study for several other reasons. I believe I am not yet too old to use this knowledge as a possible guide to living a more eudemonic or flourishing life with the years I have left. Additionally, as I conduct a life review and reflect on all I have lived and experienced, this study helps me to better understand why things are as they been and why I have engaged with this life as I have.

Finally, I want to prepare myself for what is next after this life. Unlike devout religious people, I have not relied on a prescriptive belief of a hereafter. However, now knowing more concretely that death is more impending than ever before I want to have some comfort in knowing what to expect. In short, I want to have faith in a likely scenario for what will happen to me after I take my final breath.

My informal examination of philosophy and physics began and continued for some while on separate tracks. However over time, I began to see that the two disciplines overlapped in ways I had not expected. Philosophy, while not a social science, is certainly not a hard quantifiable science either. It is too broad, too deep, and too subjective to be considered a science. It is a field of study uniquely its own.

Physics, or more specifically quantum physics or quantum mechanics as it is more popularly known, is indeed a hard science, characterized by objectivity, procedural rigor, and preciseness. So, where is the connection between philosophy and quantum mechanics? It is in a purview of fundamentalism or foundationalism, which I will attempt to explain.

To better understand this conjunction of philosophy and quantum mechanics it can be helpful to know that philosophy and science grew in tandem, emerging jointly from the original pontifications of ancient Greeks who were attempting to explain the core nature of the world in which they lived. Aristotle (384 BCE-322 BCE) can be credited with giving science an early and consequential springboard. He differed from his teacher Plato (c.429 BCE-347 BCE) in some key ways. According to Aristotle, Plato was too steeped in logically determined metaphysical underpinnings that were rooted in abstractness. His philosophical constructs were too perfectly defined and objectively certain for Aristotle.

Rather, Aristotle found it more desirable and necessary to focus on the full range of tangible worldly materials and the way they changed, developed, decayed, and behaved. He thought knowledge should spring from a deep scrutiny of the explicit substances available to us. Hence, what became a western-styled science was given permission to exist.

Science as we know it today did not have a single founder. Neither did philosophy. But when we look back through history to determine the origins of the eventual merger of philosophy and science we inevitably come again to Aristotle. In the fourth century BCE he was philosophically influenced and inculcated by two of the most prominent thinkers of the ancient world, Socrates (c.470 BCE-300 BCE) and his tutor Plato. With that philosophical grounding he went on to expand his understanding of the natural world through the practice of what became essentials of scientific inquiry.

To begin with, Aristotle was intensely curious. This mattered, because curiosity is the launch pad for examination, creativity, problem solving, social progress, and personal development. Aristotle directed his curiosity in the establishment of a systematization of two very human capabilities, observation and reasoning. Focused empiricism and self-guided reasoning together determined the foundation for scientific investigation still in practice to this day.

Among the areas in which Aristotle applied his empirical and reasoning method was to better understand what we call today biology, ecology, and physics. It was in these sciences, including physics which for centuries was known as natural philosophy, that he formalized the practice of disaggregating and classifying the natural world into discreet categories, principally causation, the elements, motion, and teleology (purpose-drive goals). Although many of his specific predictions did not stand up to the scrutiny of time, Aristotle’s three-way utilization of careful examination, logical reasoning, and classification nevertheless set the stage for the development of today’s scientific method.

Notice that Aristotle was drawn to a process which tried to base conclusions about the nature of reality by identifying and examining what he believed to be the constituent parts of reality. To better comprehend the totality of all there is, Aristotle determined it necessary to first apprehend the parts of all there is.

Aristotle was not the first of the ancient Greek philosophers to reach for a method we now call reductionism. A reductionist approach attempts to describe grand and intricate events and occurrences by minimizing, analyzing, and viewing them through their elemental segments. Key pre-Socratic philosophers also employed a similar technique.

Thales of Miletus (c.626 BCE-548 BCE) is another historic figure credited with early scientific thought. He proposed that everything in the known universe could be reduced to a single ingredient — water. Anaximenes (c.586 BCE-526 BCE) suggested that the fundamental element was air. And Heraclitus (c.535 BCE-475 BCE) offered that fire was what everything was derived from. The tendency to reduce the universe to its most basic workings has set the tone for how westerners contemplate and envisage all that there is from the beginning of recorded history.

As we see, the ancient Greeks set western science on a course of reductionism, which again can be simply explained as reducing complex circumstances or phenomena to basic and underlying components. To be sure, reductionism has driven science to comprehend a view of reality which has resulted in many remarkable discoveries. Through reductionism we have refined our ability to study phenomena, make predictions, and determine primal laws of nature.

As science, and in particular physics, matured the individual whose approach and legacy keenly exemplifies reductionism was the English scientist Isaac Newton (1643-1727). Whether it was in his works related to the laws of motion and gravity, optics, fluid dynamics, or in mathematics Newton applied reductionist thinking so as to better understand the nature of reality and predict natural processes. His procedures and methods have led to what has become the conventional manner of perceiving the known universe.

Newton’s influence on science and western thinking has been huge. Many of the services and products to emerge from applied science, which have had an immensely positive impact on humankind, can be credited to the profound influence of Newtonian schema and methodology. Historians claim that Newton’s contributions revolutionized science in disciplines ranging from astronomy to engineering and that modern physics and mathematics are attributed to his reductionist guidance. His analytic thinking that viewed natural phenomena through essential principles and equations remains extensive.

However, for all of the gains reductionism has brought to our world there has been a myopic and restrictive perception of the universe that has developed and hardened since the seventeenth century, such that conventional wisdom and commonplace thinking about the nature of reality is exceptionally mechanistic and based very heavily on rationalism.

Thanks to Rene Descartes (1596-1650) western thought took a sharp turn into the advancement of reason, which allowed for a skepticism to emerge about the reliance on Plato’s and Aristotle’s influence on scholastic thought, but also to question the power of the Church to dictate enforced beliefs. Among the great consequences of Descartes’ life work was to extensively influence a novel and rational pattern of western philosophical thought and by extension induce a metaphysical and scientific view regarding the nature of reality that exists to this day. Descartes can be credited with establishing a revolutionary intellectual environment in which Newton could pursue his creation of the new physics.

Descartes was committed to discovering the most basic truths of reality and did so by attempting to determine the most foundational aspects of knowledge or epistemology. In essence, Rene Descartes applied reductionism in an attempt to unveil how we as humans could understand the fundamentals of reality. He skeptically stripped away all of his preconceptions and premises about the world to search for that one incontrovertible truth marking the starting point for the thoughtful and aware self. “Cogito, ergo sum” became that target. “I think, therefore I am.”

The reductionist epistemological method used by Descartes contributed greatly to validating reductionism as a technique applicable to comprehending all that there is. As science developed into a set of disciplines in the years following Descartes, we see reductionism widely used as a process for peering into the nature of complex systems. Indeed, it is the approach of perceiving complex systems through reductionism that both helps and hinders our understanding of natural occurrences, especially when it comes to science.

As mentioned earlier, there can be setbacks to relying on reductionism to reveal answers to the mysteries of existence. To better understand I will begin by noting that there is no more complicated and elaborate structure than the universe. Reductionism attempts to simplify this vast complexity by identifying individual elements, which the thinking goes, combine to make the whole. As we are learning over time, intricate systems such as the universe involve more than parts. They also manifest qualities and processes that cannot be captured through an inventory of components alone.

For example, let’s look at consciousness, the phenomenon expressing our subjectivity and our sense of self. Is consciousness really just a result of brain action as in synapses among neurons or is there a more holistic, non-quantifiable, and universally fundamental process at play resulting in our experiential mindfulness? I would say, yes, that is very possible. Consciousness manifests as too miraculous and too illuminating to just be an outcome of the conduct of matter. Reductionism is too austere a method for explaining the richness of consciousness.

Synergy is a term referencing a type of alchemy. A force or efficiency is achieved within a complex system when its constituent parts interact such that the system’s overall effectiveness is measurably greater than the sum of the individual parts. How does this happen? It is counterintuitive and contrary to what basic arithmetic tells us. Synergy is a way of say two plus two equals five. Something magical appears to happen when components interact cooperatively resulting in the whole being more than all of the portions added together.

Reductionism misses synergy in its calculation. There are existing and emerging properties not easily discerned by mathematics and science. Properties that have their origin in a generative spirit the ancient Stoics referred to as Logos (more on Logos later). Systems, no matter how complex they may be, are part of larger systems. Sequestering easily identifiable components can miss the valuable interactions in force. Interconnectedness and constant exchanges inject dynamism and vitality to systems. Reductionism does not always do a good job of accounting for such interoperability.

Reductionism can be seen as a practice stemming from a belief in materialism or physicalism. Materialism asserts that all of reality is composed of physical materials. This view rejects any notion of a separate spiritual reality or of a distinct existence related solely to mental states or consciousness. All that there is can be explained by physical substances and the laws governing their actions. In this type of reality reductionism makes sense. Just keep slicing and dicing until you get to the most essential particles of existence.

So why you might ask, is there this criticism of reductionism and by extension materialism, a methodology that has been practiced for centuries and which has led immeasurably to the betterment of humankind? Credit for this mental approach of discovery deserves to be given to reductionism as mentioned in reference to Isaac Newton above. However, the past hundred years has begun a grand and paradigm changing revelation highlighting the limits of reductionism. This relatively newly learned lesson comes in the form of quantum mechanics.

As science has continued to dig deeper and peer ever further into the material universe it has run into a roadblock of sorts. Strange things are occurring at the quantum level of reality — so strange that what we have thought for centuries about materialism and its character is now being reassessed. The behaviors and processes of matter and energy at this level upends our understanding of the known universe.

Quantum mechanics is the most recent approach to the study of modern physics, which began in the 1920s. It is a study of the most fundamental conduct of matter and energy occurring at atomic and subatomic stages. Physicists appear to have largely run out of runway when it comes to discovering the next smallest particle. But of special note is the fact that we enter a bizarro world at the quantum level that seems to question the linear and sequential order of things we have been accustomed to.

Let us take a look at some key examples of the conditions goading the quantum game changing reality.

Our journey into counterintuition best begins with a look at wave-particle duality. As best physicists can tell, the most quantum materialist entities discernable are particles, the most commonly known of which are photons (light) and electrons and protons (both subatomic). What is noticeable is that these particles along with other quantum particles exhibit both particle-like traits and wave-like traits. For example, a key particle-like property is discreteness, in which a quantized energy level or value is detectable. In the case of wave-like properties an example is wavefunction, a mathematical statement providing probability magnitude of a particle’s location in space. One is left questioning, is the most basic constituent a particle or a wave or are they somehow unified?

Wave-particle duality leaves a novice student such as myself thinking that everything, including matter, is energy. I see no reason to date to think otherwise. The other consideration of note is that wave-particle duality is a good starting point for learning about the other unique and odd discoveries of quantum mechanics and of the most fundamental particle entities (also known as quanta). It is safe to say that classical physics, such as Newtonian mechanics, electrodynamics, thermodynamics, and optics, ceases to be applicable at the quantum level of physics.

Superposition really rocks the world of how we thought things were. This term is used to describe particles being ubiquitous or in multiple states at the same time. It is only during an attempt by an observer to measure the state or position of a particle that the “wavefunction collapses” into only one state or position from among the many states or positions it could have been in. It is like Jim being in Moscow and New York at the same time, but until an observer intentionally spots Jim in Moscow can we say that there is where Jim is located at that moment.

Entanglement is just as irrational. In this phenomena we can have two particles entangled or influenced by one another, sometimes at great distances, i.e. nonlocality. The condition of one of the particles can be instantaneously affected by the other one even at distances where there should be a time lag due to the immense separation of space between them. Einstein remarked incredulously that such an occurrence was “spooky action at a distance” since an information exchange appeared to be occurring between the two particles quicker than the speed of light.

As you can see quantum measurement is a tough thing to nail down. How to measure key features of quantum entities remains a controversial and debated issue. When the very act of attempting measurement appears to affect the nature of the entity being measured how can one know its state in unobserved reality? In fact, one can wonder, is there such a thing as an unobserved reality?

As we are seeing, it makes sense that a central standard of quantum mechanics is known as the Uncertainty Principle. At the beginning of the quantum age in the 1920s, German physicist Werner Heisenberg (1901-1976) concluded that measuring the speed and location of a particle could not be accomplished accurately. In the nearly one hundred years since Heisenberg proclaimed the Uncertainty Principle it remains a valid concept. Once we dive deep enough into the quantum realm reality takes on a whole new meaning — one that is hard to wrap our minds around.

So what am I to apprehend from this convergence of philosophy and physics? What are my takeaways at this point in my understanding of this information and why should they matter? Does any of this change my perceptions to the degree that I think of the world differently than I did before? To begin answering these questions I will note what conclusions or beliefs I have from the above descriptions.

At heart, nature is my guide. I believe there is a natural process to the universe, an unfolding always occurring. Science and philosophy are lenses through which to view nature and from which to infer the basics of reality. Learning from nature is not as easy as just observation, however. Our six senses give us direct experience with reality, but they are also limiting in the amount of insights we can derive from nature. Something more than sensorial experience is needed. We humans are capable of integrating a non-sensorial dominion into our imaginations that can complement our rational comprehension of all that there is.

I have faith in Logos, the generative spirit introduced to us by the ancient Stoics, as my gateway to the non-sensorial realm. It is what produced the Big Bang and establishes the entire order/disorder of the universe. Logos is ubiquitous and present from the grandest structures in the universe to the quantum level. The expression of all physical and mental states have at their essence Logos. I believe this spirit is what is meant by a belief in God.

Dutch philosopher Baruch Spinoza (1632-1677) advocated for a notion of pantheism, the idea that God is in everything. He taught there does not exist a transcendent God separated from the creation or nature. Pantheism, and its modern secular counterpart panpsychism, captures what feels right to me. Logos is my starting point and the place to which I frequently return for apprehending reality.

Beyond a faith in Logos I face a significant challenge. It appears I am searching for certainty in an uncertain universe. Quantum mechanics tells me that we cannot be sure about much, if anything, at the core of reality. Nature is not boundlessly dissoluble. We can only slice and dice or reduce just so far. A point in reductionism arrives when we enter a province that is unpredictable, random, contradictory, and contingent.

Christopher Bader, principal investigator for the annual Chapman Survey of American Fears, notes that the many fears Americans share can be traced back to uncertainty. There is a self-help expression encouraging us to embrace uncertainty. Yes, accepting chance as more likely than conviction is a key upshot for me and perhaps it should be for others as well. This encourages me to be more agile in my thinking and less definite in the conclusions I draw.

The brain, of course, can do many things. Among them is a capacity to ensnare chance and possibility. It is also stochastic in how it operates, meaning the brain can be inherently random in how it processes inputs. Many of the results the brain yields are not predictable and based in certitude, but rather are presented as probabilities and statistical distributions. This may explain our ability to be creative and to have novel ideas.

As Dartmouth College neuroscientist Peter Tse suggests, because the brain functions such that new configurations of thought and conception are possible, this is likely an indication that the universe performs this way also. A reasonable hypothesis is that quantum processes with all of their stochasticity are manifesting in our brains and reflecting the workings of the universe at large.

One of the great controversies and mysteries of both philosophy and science historically concerns the question of whether the universe is deterministic or indeterministic. If deterministic, then all that has occurred since the Big Bang is preordained and destined to happen like the sequence of events in a movie. There are no interventions which can change destiny. All has already been programmed.

On the other hand, indeterminacy allows for capriciousness and irregularity, in other words the very randomness quantum mechanics indicates is commonplace. Change, process, and uncertainty are innate and part of the fabric of our reality. Learning to not resist this primary aspect of our universe seems wise.

I will finish with this observation. Of course our lives have a lot of predictability despite all of the evidence suggesting otherwise. The sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening. Spring still follows winter every year. Death ends lifetimes. The past has occurred. The future is yet to be experienced. And the present is ever fleeting. Life is not easily understood and the more we try to make sense of it the more questions are generated. That said, the intersection of philosophy and physics is a fascinating place to be. There is much more to learn. I imagine I will continue to visit this place often.