I spend a lot of time thinking about consciousness. Perhaps too much. But I can’t help it. It might just be one of the most fascinating—as well as one of the least understood—things in the universe. And it's part of us; our essence as individuals and as a species. Even as I read more and more about the topic (this is one of my favorites), curiosity remains unsatisfied.
Consciousness contains many tricks. In one of its most paradoxical maneuvers, consciousness seems to place me (aka “The Self”) smack dab in the middle of everything. But a bit of reflection unveils the disconcerting truth that my experience as the epicenter of existence—as the protagonist of an unfolding epic, awash in plans, thoughts, ideas, and desires directed at advancing my aims—is just the same illusion experienced of billions of other conscious beings beyond my inner world. To each and every one of them I am no more than they are to me: an occasional thought, a fleeting face in a crowd, an unknown soul.
The foundation of this experience seems to stem from one of the byproducts of consciousness itself: Narrative Structure. Fragments of information connected within consciousness in ways that produce meaning. Our subjective experiences and understanding of the world all come from the specific narratives that accumulate in our minds—all the way down to our understanding of ourselves at the center of the plot. We derive our entire sense of meaning and purpose from these narratives. They inform how we think about nearly everything, from the mundane to the profound.
This confounding element of consciousness seems to bear a particular burden. Its implications reach far across the multitude of topics I’ve considered exploring here, from brand-building to cryptocurrency to God (oh boy, that’s heavy). Most of our societal workings rely on narrative structures as the foundations of our beliefs. How can I really explore these ideas without first setting some foundational groundwork for how I believe our baseline understanding of ideas like these come to be within our minds? So with that in mind I’ve decided to take a pit stop to lay some foundational groundwork for future writings.
The Essence Of Narrative Structure
Let’s consider for a moment the world outside of the human mind. It simply exists as a matter of cause and effect. (Setting aside the nuances of quantum mechanics; they won’t detract from my point). Lightning strikes a tree; the tree catches fire. Heat evaporates water; water forms a cloud; the cloud creates rain. Even as evolution shaped matter into living, replicating things with the ability to respond to stimuli, their behaviors still follow similar patterns. Leopard feels hunger; leopard eats a gazelle. Absent human minds, all of these events simply happen without meaning. The leopard does not wonder why it hunts the gazelle. It certainly doesn’t hunt for ritual or sport. It just hunts to quell the feeling of hunger (and survive). Outside of the human mind, events happen in causal events with no meaning or significance. Add a human mind to the equation, and the world suddenly becomes riddled in connections and meaning.
The human mind processes hunger in the context of narratives. Why am I hungry? How long has it been since I ate? What should I eat? How should I source my food? Should I feed my children first? Do I like the taste? How or what does God want me to eat or not eat? Suddenly the act of eating became part of the narrative structure in our mind. It becomes meaningful. Humans are meaning-making machines.
How does this work? The mind is no more than the output of organic processes, a complex chemical system of information gathering, data interpretation, and decision-making that takes inputs from our senses in the present combined with information stored from the past (memories) and turns them into thoughts, emotions, and actions. This majestic interplay gives rise to our perception of reality. The production of the mind relies upon a combination of language and ideas, which we experience as Narrative Structure. It’s how all the various ideas and thoughts are connected from one to the next—a connection system, if you will. And as far as we know, this narrative process is currently relegated to conscious beings (i.e., Humans).
Humans create narratives in individual minds, but our ability to communicate allows us to transmit those narratives to others, creating shared belief systems and thought patterns. Sometimes we transmit these narratives directly through storytelling (done by parents, teachers, friends, media, etc.). A parent may teach a child a narrative about why a certain musician warrants special affection. What we like, the movies we watch, the music we listen to, the books we read, are all shaped by shared narratives. Cultures are shared narratives.
Culture can also transmit meta-narratives against the backdrop of a primary story. For example, a filmmaker can tell a story about a poor child who wants to be a famous chocolate maker (Wonka) which also contains meta-narratives about society in the form of rich, greedy monopolists who collude to suppress the hero’s chances of success—such a meta-narrative transmits ideas about wealth and power in the context of a broader story.
Narratives hold up every institution in society. Nations, religions, political parties, businesses, and so forth, are nothing more than shared narratives (as expounded upon by Yuval Noah Harari in “Sapiens”). These institutions exist because of shared beliefs in the narratives behind them—the founding of a nation and its principles, the validity of a prophecy, the integrity and authenticity of a brand, to name a few examples.
Our understanding of the world is nothing more than a complex web of narratives of our own making or transmitted to us by others.
Narrative Pitfalls
Humans start developing narratives quite early in life, and many of our earliest narratives become the foundations of our identity. They imbue us with existential meaning. These are often the most challenging narratives to consider because they are the backdrop for the protagonist in the story. Without them, there would be no protagonist. But upon inspection, these narratives possess no special recipe. They come from the same processes as every other narrative within conscious beings. Like consciousness itself, the narratives give the illusion that our personal stories sit at the center of all reality—that they contain the absolute truth. But with a few steps back and an understanding of how narratives form, we can see the facade.
While the ability to think in Narrative Structures allows us to process and store vast amounts of information, giving us many evolutionary advantages, it also causes some of our greatest flaws (both for individuals and societies). Narratives cause many of our worst and most destructive tendencies as they often lead to tribalism, hatred, self-doubt, dogmatism, conspiracy theories, and other ills. However, by understanding what our narratives are and how they come to be, we might be able to free ourselves from their harmful effects. We can recreate our narratives in ways that retain meaning while improving how we view ourselves and relate to others.
This prospect terrifies us. Even as we come to see the harmful parts in the narratives or others, we dare not reflect on our own narratives. We squeeze tight, clinging to what we know to be true. We become entangled in our own centrality. We can’t imagine a world without our most cherished narratives, be they personal or societal. We fear of being left with nothing. We fear the other side, not realizing that the fears themselves are narrative products products.
Nihlism?
Let me pause for a moment. I can see what you might be thinking. You’re worried that my point here is that nothing is true; that all of our narratives are false; that I’m some sort of postmodern nihilist. Don’t worry, I’m not willing to go that far. I do believe we can find the truth. But I believe that the only way we can arrive there is by recognizing the structure of our conscious mind so that we may step around the traps that come with it. Truth requires rational thinking. And while we may be irrational beings by nature, the best shot we have at closing the gaps is by assessing our own framework of thought.
In this vein, I’ve often wondered if perhaps the value in narratives doesn’t come from having the right ones, which would go against the odds of the universe, but rather in our ability to continually adapt and evolve our narratives with the best of our thinking. To understand our narratives for what they are—reality processing tools with a heavy dose of meaning—and sharpen them in ways that both enhance our ability to respond to reality and feel a greater sense of purpose.
More thoughts to come…
It’s a tall order and a lot to consider. But having set this foundation, I hope to explore this idea further through the lens of other ideas in future posts. In the meantime, I invite you to consider how Narrative Structures shape your view of yourself and the world around you. How do they influence your beliefs and identity? How do they give you comfort and strength? How might they be holding you back? And most importantly, are there any that you can identify as worthy of revision?
Thank you for continuing to read and support my work, and I look forward to exploring this concept deeper through other topics.
Also thought experiments are the bomb!
1. You are who you are at the age that you are right now.... then reset to a parallel universe where you somehow ended up on the doorstep of a couple in Bangladesh. Born as you were, but for some inexplicable reason dropped on the doorstep of another couple in another continent...Now move forward in that life to the age that you are now. Are you the same person that in another vector would have been the 'you' that 'you' have a sense of propriety over? Is that even a meaningful question? So what is the 'you' that COULD HAVE been someone else yet still have come from an "original inevitable state' ?
YOU don't exist. That's the only way to answer this paradox.
And here is the thought experiment that I came on up with that I really hate. Because it's so damn creepy.
You are at a large gathering of family and friends at a picnic. At one end of the space that you are having your get together at is a small shed. You walk into the shed and the door closes behind you. You notice a mysterious stranger sitting in a chair in the middle of the shed. The moment that you notice this stranger, you also realize that you have been duplicated. There are two of you. Neither of you came from the other. Both of you are as identical as a dividing amoeba. Both of you have equal claim to Being the original. Immediately you are made aware of the fact that only one of you will be allowed To exit the shed. The mysterious stranger will flip a coin To determine which of you will be executed and which of you will be allowed to go back to the festivities. Both copies of you share identical hopes and dreams and memories With each other. But one of you will die Before one of you will exit.
Question: What is lost?
And to make it even worse, the copy of you that emerges will have no memory of what happened in the shed.
Someone fucking died. But what was lost?
Erg... I don't like this one. I wish I hadn't thought of it
I like to think that I coined this quip encapsulating consciousness, but I can't see how that is possible. I'm sure I read it somewhere and claimed it as my own but here it is:
The emergent 'I'
It's that even if consciousness is an illusion there's no way to bootstrap yourself out of the illusion. There is no way for you to not feel that who you are and what you are is inevitable on some level. The 'I' Is emergent. But invisible to the processor. The one thing That stood out to me in Daniel Dennett's book "consciousness explained" (The wink at hubris being intentional in the title) Was when he tacitly admits that the question of consciousness in itself is a boring question. Simply because there isn't an antithetical to weigh it against. It was specifically in his take on Qualia. The basic irreducibles on what it means to feel or sense something. He basically suggested that it was only superficially profound. Simply because there is no way into that experience EXCEPT BY comparison. The idea that different people experience 'red' differently as a nonstarter as an example.
I remember a thought experiment where someone has to explain the color red to someone who is colorblind. You have to take it one step further and then try to explain the color red to someone else who is fully capable of seeing red you can't do it. All you can do is say, red like an apple, red like a firetruck, red like blood. so ultimately there is no there there. But it's totally there, and totally real. The very definition of paradox
Oh, and here is one that I do think is 'mine'
The notion of free will is indistinguishable from 'not knowing' the future.
Via the paradox presented by Kurt Vonnegut's Tralfamadorians in Slaughterhouse 5
Knowing all of what was and what is to come is a form of death and stasis. So in that way, consciousness, even if illusory, IS 'life'...in more ways than one. Or more to the point, it is an ACTIVE vector EVEN IF one were to ascribe to abject pre-determinism. i.e. Everything in the universe would unfold exactly the way it has if it were started from an earlier point.