22. HOW CAN A MINDCLONE BE AN EXACT COPY OF A PERSON’S MIND?

“Ordinary men don't have much stomach for reality--even more so, horror. Memory is typically repressed or displaced.” Sigmund Freud

“Of all liars, the smoothest and most convincing is memory.” Folk Saying


“What should they know of England, who only England know?” Rudyard Kipling

It can’t be. Even a so-called “identical twin” is not an identical twin. Even if one’s DNA is the same as another person, as with identical twins, there are differences in terms of when particular genes within that DNA are turned on and off. These differences are due to a bio-chemical process known as methylation (meaning the attachment of triggering molecules to genes within our DNA), which is encoded outside of our DNA in something called the epigenome. Even if two people have identical DNA, they will not have identical epigenomes, and hence the timing and magnitude of the expression of their DNA into a body will be different. The epigenome does not change things enough to prevent two identical twins from looking the same, but it will change things enough to prevent identical twins from always getting the same genetically-predisposed diseases.

When one of two identical twins is exposed to a different pathogen than the other, the two twins’ immune systems will no longer be quite the same. Random errors in DNA copying that the cell fails to correct will occur during cell replication in one twin but not the other. We have 23 billion red blood cells alone (out of tens of trillions of human DNA-bearing cells in total). Even with our amazing human bodies, this leaves a lot of room for errors that crack the identicalness of so-called identical twins (an estimated 100,000 DNA copying mistakes occur daily based on a rate of about 3 uncorrected base pair errors per cell replication). Furthermore, we have ten times as many bacteria in and on our bodies as we have cells derived from our parents DNA. These bacteria, at least in absolute number, are most of us, and yet there is nothing identical about the specific bacteria populations that colonize identical twins.

Identical twins still feel that they are twins even though their bodies are not really identical. Each of us feels that we are the same body even though our own body is not identical day after day. Won’t these immaterial differences be just as irrelevant to minds as they are to bodies?

The interesting question is not whether a mindclone is an exact copy of its original, but how different can they be without losing a common identity? It is impossible for a mindclone and a biological original to share every single memory. Even biological originals do not have the same memories from day to day, and surely not from year to year. Yet, memories are crucially important to identity. In the words of memory expert Prof. James McGaugh of UC Irvine:

“We are, after all, our memories. It is our memory that enables us to value everything else we possess. Lacking memory, we would have no ability to be concerned about our hearts, hair, lungs, libido, loved ones, enemies, achievements, failures, incomes or income taxes. Our memory provides us with an autobiographical record and enables us to understand and react appropriately to changing experiences. Memory is the ‘glue’ of our personal existence.”

Prof. McGaugh’s cogent summary leaves bare the fact that our personal identity exists as more than one set of memories. For example, we need not remember everything about an enemy in order to remember that someone is an enemy. We need not remember everything about our income, or taxes, in order to remember that we have income and pay taxes. Indeed, the key to healthy memory is the largely automatic process of selecting what little to remember and what mostly to forget. For a mindclone to be us, to have the same ‘glue’ of our personal existence, means that the mindclone needs to share our most important memories – those that are retained because of the emotional contexts in which they were created or because of the significant repetitive effort we put into their formation – as well as the gist of our idiosyncratic selection process for what is worthy of remembering, and for how long. As that godfather of psychology William James so presciently observed:

“Selection is the very keel on which our mental ship is built…If we remembered everything, we should, on most occasions be as ill off as if we remembered nothing. It would take as long for us to recall a space of time as it took the original time to elapse, and we should never get ahead with our thinking. ”

It will be a crucially important element of mindware design to ensure that most things are forgotten, and that the settings for the memory selection algorithm must closely match those of the biological original. Mindware will set its selection algorithm for each person by first processing their mindfile and comparing the details a person evidences memory of (such as in digitized records of voice, video and images) with databases of the kinds of details that could have been remembered about each topic. For example, if a person’s digitally recorded conversations (part of their mindfile) refer in detail to sports scores of the past week, but only sketchily to sports scores of the past month, then a curve of the selection algorithm can be determined with respect to sports scores. If another topic area reveals a greater degree of recall, then for topics with comparable emotional importance (as indicated in their mindfile) a different curve of the selection algorithm will be determined. Ultimately the mindware will employ a memory selection algorithm that first categorizes inputs by a factor that correlates well with the degree and duration of detail that is recalled (as indicated in their mindfile), and then forgets those inputs in accordance with a time curve that applies to that and similar factors. The algorithm will also accommodate memory adjuvants, such as especially high impact, emotional or repetitive experiences. The memory selection algorithm will be modeled closely on the way psychological studies have shown human minds to actually work.

Over one hundred years ago Hermann Ebbinghaus discovered, as shown in the chart below, that humans typically forget more than half the information they are exposed to in an hour, and retain only about a fifth of received information after a few days. With so much forgotten, a mindclone cannot be an exact copy of someone’s mind because every mind is itself constantly changing in its repertoire of memories. What is important is that the pattern of selective forgetting be comfortably similar – similar enough for a biological original to say of eir mindclone: “ey is I and I am ey.”

Clearly, a biological original and eir mindclone will not remember most specific events in precisely the same way for precisely the same duration. But I don’t think this makes them different people. We humans don’t remember events precisely the same way when we were young than when we were old, or when we are tired and when we are alert, or when we are happy and when we are sad. But we are still the same person. What is important is whether our core memories are the same, which they will be, as these will be recorded in our mindfile. What is also important is whether our general pattern of forgettng things is comparable, not precisely the same. That too can be achieved via the aforementioned algorithm.

People are remarkably ready to alter their ability to forget things. The robust market in supplements to improve memory and learning aids to diminish forgetting are good proofs of this. Hence, having a mindclone that is somewhat better, or somewhat worse, at remembering things makes them no less the same identity as you. People may find themselves pleasantly surprised to be remembering more as a mindclone than as a human, or disturbed to be doing so. If it is a problem, they can go to a cyberpsychologist and have their algorithms adjusted so that they are comfortable with their degree of forgetfulness.

Do We Really Know Who We Are?

In asking how a mindclone can really be a copy of our brain we face a bit of a dilemma. We cannot know whether there is a copy of our mind until there is a mindclone. We can then observe it respond to the world and determine whether, in fact, it responds the way we would respond. If so, mark one down for “good copy.” However, as a biological original, we cannot know if the mindclone is actually thinking the same thoughts and feeling the same feelings as are we. We can only make a best guess based on our conversations with the mindclone.

As the mindclone, we realize we are a mindclone and can assess how close we are to the biological original by comparing eir responses to the world with how we would be predisposed to respond. If very similar, then mark one down for “I am really a good mindclone. I am just like my biological original.” But we cannot really know if our internal thoughts are the same as the biological original’s thoughts. We can only make a best guess based on our conversations with the biological original.

I think these best guesses are good enough to have confidence that the mindclone and biological original have similar enough internal states to be the same person. The main reason I think this is based upon my experience with people that I love and who profess love for me. Because I am not the mind of my spouse, or my mother, I cannot know directly whether they really love me or not. However, based on our conversations, and actions, I am totally convinced that they think of me the way I think of them – with greatest loving concern for the other’s happiness and health. Beyond that, I believe they are focusing on being satisfactorily occupied during the day. Because we are so close, I believe we can infer much of each other’s internal states. 

On the other hand, many other people say “Martine, I love you.” However, I don’t feel that I understand their internal states. I’m not close enough to them. Their expressions of love are far short of the comprehensive relationship of shared experiences that I would need to infer their internal state. Indeed, over the years, people who said they love me have done things that I consider to be utterly surprising, if not shocking. Clearly, I did not know their internal states. To the contrary, the unexpected activities of my mother or my spouse were never shocking. They were behaviors I could fully see them doing based upon my understanding of their internal state.

The point here is that sometimes, if two people are close enough, an internal state of a person can be largely inferred from their observable actions. When the two people become as close as a mindclone and an original, which is far closer than a spouse or mother, inferring their internal state becomes second nature. When the internal state of another is second nature to one’s own internal state we have a difference that does not make a difference. When “I think like you think and you think like I think” then we are one personal identity.

We may well end up knowing ourselves best as mindclones, and we may well end up knowing the mindclones better than they know themselves. This is because it is hard see oneself from oneself, but with just a little bit of distance, the self comes into sharp relief. We earth dwellers never appreciated who we were so well as when we received the photograph from space of our blue-and-white planet suspended in inky black space.

And hence mindcloning is not about being accurate in every memory, in every thought pattern and in every emotion as to a biological original. It is, instead, about feeling that there is a oneness of personal identity between the two – a oneness that comes from a preponderance of common memories, emotions and patterns of thinking, selecting and forgetting. Philosophers sometimes refer to this as a continuity of self. As the 30-year-old self knows the 20-year-old self, though they are of course not the same, so the mindclone will know the biological original. A difference that makes no difference is not a meaningful difference.

8. WHAT IS TECHNO-IMMORTALITY?

"Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated”, Samuel Langhorn Clemens, a.k.a. Mark Twain, in a May, 1897 note to the New York Journal, which had reported news of the fatal illness of Twain’s cousin, James Ross Clemens, as that of Twain. New York Observer, June 2, 1897. (In fact, Twain died the day after the 1910 perihelion of Halley’s Comet, having been born two weeks after its 1835 perihelion, leading him to immortally observe “now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.”)

http://blip.tv/play/AYHC9S0A

Cyberconsciousness implies techno-immortality. Immortality means living forever. This has never happened in the real world, so we think of immortality as a spiritual existence (as in heaven) or as a non-personal existence (as in ‘Bach’s music will live forever’). With cyberconsciousness it will be possible, for the first time, for a person to live forever in the real world. This unique, technologically empowered form of living forever is called techno-immortality.

Mindclones are the key to techno-immortality. Imagine that before a person’s body dies he or she creates a mindclone. After bodily death is declared the person will insist that he or she is still alive, albeit as a mindclone in cyberspace. The surviving mindclone will think, feel and act just as did the deceased original. While the mindclone will be stuck in cyberspace, he or she will still be able to read online books, watch streaming movies, and participate in virtual social networks. It will seem no more right to declare the mindclone dead than it would be to declare someone dead upon becoming a paraplegic. Practically speaking the mindclone’s original achieved techno-immortality.

A semantic purest may argue that “immortal” means “forever”, and since we have no way to know how long the mindclones will last they cannot be deemed immortal. This is a fair point, but it should be recognized that mindclones last far longer than the hardware they run on at any particular time. Mindclones, just as people, are really sets of information patterns. In the same way that the information patterns of great books and works of art are copied through the ages in new media after new media, so will be the case with mindclones. We are continuing to copy and interact with human texts that are thousands of years old, originally written in stone, and now stored digitally. Mindclones, being conscious beings with a desire to survive, can be expected to last even longer.

Therefore, by techno-immortal, we do not literally mean living until the sun explodes and the stars disappear. Such eschatological timeframes are beyond our consideration. Techno-immortality means living so long that death (other than by suicide) is not thought of as a factor in one’s life. This uber-revolutionary development in human affairs is the inevitable consequence of mindfiles, mindware and mindclones. Our souls will now be able to outlast our bodies -- not only in religion, but also on earth.

Techno-immortality need not imply an eternity of life in a box. Broadband connectivity to audio and video, and to tactile, taste and scent enabled future websites, will make life much more enjoyable than the ‘in a box’ phrase suggests. The outputs of our fingertips, taste buds and olfactory nerves are electronic signals that can be interpreted by software in the same manner as are sound waves and light signals. Nevertheless, it is hard to beat a real flesh body for mind-blowing experiences. Within a few score years for an optimist, and not more than a few centuries for a pessimist, current rates of technology development will result in replacement bodies grown outside of a womb. Such spare bodies, or “sleeves” as novelist Richard Morgan calls them , will be compatibly matched with mindclones. To make the sleeve be the same person as the mindclone either:

(a) the sleeve’s neural patterns will need to be grown ectogenetically to reflect those of the mindclone’s software patterns; or
(b) the sleeve’s naturally grown neural patterns will need to be interfaced and subordinated to a very small computer implanted in the cranium that contains a copy of the mindclone’s software.

Once these feats of neuro-technology are accomplished, techno-immortality will then also extend into the walkabout world of swimming in real water and skiing on real snow. In addition, mechanical bodies, including ones with flesh-like skin, are rapidly being developed to enable robotic help with elder care in countries like Japan (where the ratio of young to old people is getting too small). Such robot bodies will also be outfitted with mindclone minds to provide for escapes from virtual reality.

Techno-immortality triggers a philosophical quandary about identity. The gist of it is that people say ‘you cannot be dead and alive at the same time.’ This is related to another objection to mindclones – that they can’t really be ‘me’ or ‘you’ because we can’t be two different things, or in two different places, at the same time. All of these objections flow from the inability of the philosopher to accept that identity is not necessarily body-specific. In other words, a person’s identity is more like a fuzzy cloud that encompasses, to a greater or lesser extent, whatever loci contain their mannerisms, personality, recollections, feelings, beliefs, attitudes and values.

It is hard for us to feel comfortable with this view of identity because we have had no experience with it. Throughout history the only locus for our mind was the brain atop our head and shoulders. Hence, it is natural for us to believe that identity is singular to one bodily form. In a similar way, before Einstein, it was natural to believe that the speed of light depends upon how fast the source of light is traveling. All of our experience was that a rock thrown from a moving train must have the combined speed of the train’s motion and the rock’s pitch. When Einstein showed us how to think about something outside of our experience, we were able to logically deduce that the speed of light must be invariant. Similarly, when you think about a computer that runs mindware on a mindfile that is equivalent to your mind, then you must logically deduce that identity is not limited to one locus. Identity follows its constituents – mannerisms, personality, recollections, feelings, beliefs, attitudes and values – wherever those components may reside.

We are all familiar with the associative law of mathematics: if a = b, and b = c, then a = c. In our case a = our identity as defined by b, the key memories and characteristic thought patterns stored in our brain’s neural connections. With the advent of mindfiles and mindware it is possible to recreate those key memories and characteristic thought patterns in c, a mindclone. Since our original identity, a, derives from our cognitive status, b, and since the cognitive status from a brain, ba, is no different than the cognitive status from a mindclone, bc, it follows logically that our mindclone identity, c, is the same as our brain identity, a. Furthermore, this proof demonstrates that identity is not limited to a single body or “instantiation” such as a or c. Ergo, with the rise of mindclones has come the demise of inevitable death. While unmodified bodies do inevitably die, software-based patterns of identity information do not.

There is a great inclination to argue that unless every aspect of the a-based identity is also present in the c-based identity, then ba is not the same thing as bc and hence a is not really equal to and c. This argument is based on a false premise that our identity is invariant. In fact, nobody maintains “every aspect” of identity from day to day, and certainly not from year to year. We remember but a small fraction of yesterday’s interactions today, and will remember still less tomorrow. Yet we all treat each other, and our selves, as people of a constant identity.

Even in the extreme cases of amnesia or dementia, we do not doubt that the patient has a constant identity. Only in the final stages of Alzheimer’s does our confidence in the sufferer’s identity begin to waver. Therefore, a perfect one-to-one correspondence between ba and bc is not necessary in order for them to be equivalent. Instead, if suitably trained psychologists attest to a continuity of identity between ab and cb, which would tend to track with the perceptions of laypeople as well as of the original and their mindclone, then it must be accepted that the psychological fuzz of identity has cloned itself onto a new substrate. The individual’s cloud identity is now instantiated in both a brain and a mindclone.

Techo-immortality is possible because it will be soon possible to replicate the constituents of your identity – and hence your identity – in multiple, highly survivable loci, namely in software on different servers. It is irrelevant that these copies are not identical to the original. Perfect copies of anything are a physical impossibility, both in space as well as in time. Mindclones that are cognitively and emotionally equivalent to their originals, and practically accepted as their original identities, must be techno-immortal continuations of the original beings.

This question reminds me of the amazing story about how a young student, Aaron Lansky, saved Yiddish literature from disappearing. By the late 20th century, virtually all of the native speakers of Yiddish were elderly. After they died, their Yiddish books were being thrown away – almost no one understood a need to preserve this literature. Perhaps 5%-10% of the entire literature was literally disappearing each year. Lansky took it upon himself, with the help of a small group of friends, to collect all of the Yiddish books in the world before they ended up in dumpsters. After a decade his team had collected over a million volumes, had reignited interest in the language and had created a global Yiddish book exchange system. However, because the books were so frail (Yiddish was mostly read by poor Jews, and thus printed on cheap early 20th century paper to keep prices down) they were disintegrating before they could be shared. Consequently, Lansky then raised the money and signed contracts to digitize the entire collection. Indeed, the first literature completely digitized was Yiddish. Thereafter, those who wished any particular book simply selected the title from an online catalog and a print-to-order new copy was sent to them, on nice acid-free paper.

Did digitizing Yiddish literature save it from death by oblivion via dumpsters? Absolutely. Were the digitized texts the exact same as the handworn books? No. Did it matter? Absolutely not. The culture, what might be called the Yiddish soul, was exactly the same in the reprinted books of hundreds of authors, poets and playwrights.

Lingering objections to mindclones based upon inexactitude simply misunderstand the nature of identity. Identity is a property of continuity. This means that a person’s identity can exist to a greater or lesser extent depending upon the presence or absence of its constituents. We believe that we have the same identity as we grow from teenagers to adults because to a great extent our mannerisms, personality, recollections, feelings, beliefs, attitudes and values have been continually present over those years. Of course we have changed, but the changes are on top of bedrock constancy. For the same reason it is not necessary for our mindclone to share every memory with its biological original to have the same identity as that original. Similarly, Yiddish literature is alive even if only 98% rather than 100% of Yiddish literature has been digitized. To love your mother you need not remember all that she has done for you. A continuity of strong positive and emotive orientations toward her, as well as the remembered highlights of your life with her, are plenty adequate.

In summary, techno-immortality is the ability to live practically forever through the downloading of your identity to a mindclone. Identity exists wherever its cognitive and emotional patterns exist, which can be in more than one place, in flesh as well as in software, and in varying degrees of completeness. While humans have never before experienced out-of-body identity, that is about to change with mindcloning. Along with this change will come something else new to humanity – techno-immortality.

5. WHAT IS CYBERCONSCIOUSNESS?

“Am not going to argue whether a machine can really be alive, really be self-aware. Is a virus self-aware? Nyet. How about oyster? I doubt it. A cat? Almost certainly. A human? Don’t know about you, tovarishch, but I am. Somewhere along evolutionary chain from macromolecule to human brain self-awareness crept in. Psychologists assert it happens automatically whenever a brain acquires certain very high number of associational paths. Can’t see it matters whether paths are protein or platinum. (Soul? Does a dog have a soul? How about cockroach?)” Robert Heinlein, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress

Cyberconsciousness means consciousness in a cybernetic medium. Cybernetics is the replication of biological control systems with technology. In 1984 Robert Gibson coined the term ‘cyberspace’ in his novel Neuromancer about an alternative reality existing inside computer networks. Soon thereafter, cyber became a prefix meaning anything computer-related. That much is easy. Lengthy answers are needed for what is consciousness, and how could it possibly exist in a computerized form, outside of a brain.

The biggest problem with discussions of consciousness is that people are not sure what they are talking about. This is because consciousness is what Marvin Minsky calls a “suitcase word.” Such a word carries lots of meanings, so there are constant problems of comparing apples to oranges in debates about consciousness. For example, most people speak of consciousness as if it was one thing, self-awareness. Yet, surely baby self-awareness is different from adolescent self-awareness. The self-awareness of an octopus (if it exists) may well be quite diminished – or advanced -- compared to that of a cat (if it exists).

A Suitcase Full of Autonomy and Empathy

There are three reasons why the common use of “self-awareness” as a definition for consciousness does not work well with cyberconsciousness. First, “any beginning programmer can write a short piece of software that examines, reports on, and even modifies itself.” It is thus easy to program software to be self-aware. For example, the software running a robot vehicle could be written to define objects in its real world. Those objects might be the terrain (“navigate it using sensors”), programmers (“follow any orders coming in”) and the vehicle itself (“I am a robot vehicle that navigates terrain in response to programming orders.”) Yet, very few people would accept that such a simple set of code, albeit literally “self-aware”, was conscious. It bears too little in common with what most people think of as conscious – a being that thinks independently and is sensitive to the feelings of others (when not infantile, sleeping or seriously ill).

A second problem with the “self-awareness” definition of consciousness is that it is an all-or-nothing proposition. In fact, given the graduated fashion in which brains have evolved, it is more likely that there are gradations of consciousness. Beings can be more or less independent thinkers – even human thought is largely dictated by genetics and upbringing – and beings can be more or less sensitive to other’s feelings – consider the animals you know, including the human ones. So, our definition of consciousness shouldn’t be the common “self-awareness” one because that term would force too gross a categorization. Its “either you are or are not” standard is inconsistent with the blurry reality of multitudinous and ambiguous differences in self-awareness.

A final problem with the “self-awareness” definition is that it doesn’t necessarily require what is called “phenomenal consciousness” (meaning awareness of one’s feelings and subjective perceptions), or “sentience.” The possibility of self-awareness without sentience (such as the Mr. Smiths of Matrix) exemplifies this third problem with the common definition of consciousness. For example a person who acts as if they have no emotions is called a robot or zombie, meaning a machine without consciousness. Self-awareness is clearly necessary, but also far from sufficient, for a definition of consciousness that matches what people really mean by the term.

So, self-awareness is at once both the most common meaning of consciousness as well as a horrible match for what people really mean by consciousness! This occurs because when applied to humans, self-awareness secretly brings along (in Prof. Minsky’s suitcase) independent thought, sentience and empathy – all of which are part of being human. But when applied to other species, and to mindclones, we can no longer be sure what if anything is in “the suitcase.” Hence, the term self-awareness is inadequate to express our expectations for consciousness. We know the self-aware human is also somewhat rational, emotional and caring. So, self-aware humans are good enough proxies for conscious humans. We don’t know that a self-aware software program is anything but self-aware. Hence, for species other than humans, mere self-awareness is an inadequate definition for consciousness because we really require reason, feelings and concern as well.

Shortcomings of “What It Is Like to Be”

Consciousness entails a processing of perceptions into a mental worldview. This is what some people call the “what it is like to be” definition. Consciousness uses patterns of neural connections, usually triggered in real-time by physical sense data, to create something meta-physical – a more or less coherent, individualized and hence subjective, virtual image of one’s relevant world. It is the immeasurability of this subjectivity that also underlies the confusion over consciousness.

Most people require this mental subjectivity to include feelings or emotions (sentience) in order to qualify as consciousness. This is of course because feelings and emotions are integral to human consciousness. Sentience, on the other hand, is no better than self-awareness as a stand-alone definition of consciousness. This is because as noted above, we expect conscious beings to be independent thinkers as well as feelers. We can say humans are conscious if they are sentient, because we know all humans are also independent thinkers (Minsky’s suitcase again). But we cannot make the same statement regarding other species, or mindclones (that suitcase is still empty).

Feelings do not require having any cognitive capability at all. When a hooked worm or fish squirms, most people interpret that as evidence that it hurts (others however consider it a mere reaction like a knee jerk that indicates no emotion). If the hooked worm or fish is in pain, or is stressed, this means it has sentience. But most people would not consider the fish or worm conscious because we don’t believe some part of their neurology is thinking about the pain, and complaining about it. Instead, we think the worm or fish is simply reacting in pain, and is reflexively trying to get out of the nasty situation. Of course we humans would do likewise, but we would also (to the extent pain subsided) commiserate about it, and contemplate what to do next. It is upon such recondite differences, that the definition of human consciousness resides. To satisfy the common conception of consciousness there needs to be autonomy (e.g., contemplation) and empathy (e.g., commiseration) as well as sentience and self-awareness.

To determine if software will become conscious we need a tighter definition for consciousness than self-awareness. We also need a definition that requires sentience, but is not satisfied with it alone. Most people will not be satisfied that a software being is conscious simply because there is something “that it is like to be” that software being – any more so than we think a fish is conscious because there may be something “that it is like to be a fish”, or a bat, or any other being. Experience, per se, is not what most people really mean by consciousness. There must also be an independent will – something akin to what is thought of as a soul – and also an element of transcendence – a conscience. Finally, we need a definition that can span a broad range of possible forms of consciousness.

The Continuum of Consciousness

A comprehensive solution to the consciousness conundrum is to adopt a new approach – “the continuum of consciousness” -- that explains all of the diverse current views, while also pointing the way for fruitful quantitative research. Such a “continuum of consciousness” model would encompass everything from seemingly sentient animal behaviors to the human obsession with how do others see me. It would provide a common lexicon for all researchers. Hence, the definition of consciousness needs to be broad but concrete:

Consciousness = A continuum of maturing abilities, when healthy, to be autonomous and empathetic, as determined by consensus of a small group of experts.

Autonomous means, in this context, the independent capacity to make reasoned decisions, with moral ones at the apex, and to act on them.

Independent means, in this context, capable of idiosyncratic thinking or acting.

Empathetic means, in this context, the ability to identify with and understand other beings’ feelings.

Feelings, in this context, mean a perceived mental or physical sensation or gestalt.

Small group of experts means, in this context, three or more individuals certified in a field of mental health or medical ethics.

This definition says a subject is a little conscious if they think and feel a little like us; they are very conscious if they think and feel just like us. It is a human-centric definition because when people ask “is it conscious?,” they mean “is it in any way humanly conscious?” In other words, conscious is a shorthand way of judging whether a subject “thinks and feels at all like people.”

How do we know if someone or something is empathetic or autonomous? Since “independence” and especially “feelings” are internal mental states, it is very difficult to be definitive about the existence of consciousness. It is likely that in the future individual neuron mapping will enable consciousness to be determined empirically. Until that time one’s consciousness is determined by others. A subject is conscious to the extent other people think they are autonomous and empathetic. This makes sense because, as noted above, it is compared to human consciousness that we measure any other consciousness as either absent or present to some degree. We think our dogs and cats are conscious because we see aspects of human consciousness in them.

Someone is guilty of an intentional crime if other people (the jury) think they had the mental intent to do the crime (as well as performing the criminal acts). Society is accustomed to letting others make determinative decisions about one’s mental state. Thus, it is logical to also let society make determinative decisions as to whether or not someone or something is conscious. For the determination of consciousness, the consensus of three or more experts in the field, such as psychologists or ethicists, substitute for a jury. As software does actually present with consciousness, it is likely that professional associations will offer special mindclone psychology certifications to better standardize consciousness determinations.

Of course an expert determination of consciousness is not the same thing as a fully objective determination of consciousness. Similarly, a jury may think a defendant lacked criminal intent whereas, in fact, he really had the intent. However, when objective determinations are impossible, society readily accepts alternatives such as appraisals of one’s peers or experts. Also, when the experts determine that a software being is or is not conscious, they are of course only considering human consciousness. Prof. Minsky’s consciousness suitcase always carries a human-centric bias.

It is important to clarify a few aspects of the “continuum of consciousness” definition. First, the inability to make moral decisions, due to lack of understanding of right and wrong, makes one less conscious. This is because human consciousness includes moral judgments, and it is compared to this understanding of consciousness that we decide whether a gradation of it exists.

The reason for moral choice having a dominant role is that consciousness matters because it embodies the most important shared value among humans, that of a moral conscience. In other words, while consciousness has a minimalist definition of being awake, alert and aware – “is he conscious?!” – it also has a more salient meaning of thinking and feeling like a normal human. To think like a normal human, one must be able to make the kind of moral decisions, based on some variant of the Golden Rule, which Kant taught were hard-wired into human brains.

For example, no matter how self-aware or empathetic a being was, most people would not admit they shared human consciousness unless they had a maturing ability to understand, when healthy, the difference between shared concepts of right and wrong. To such people a Hitler is conscious, whereas a crocodile is merely self-aware, because a Hitler makes (very wrong) moral choices, while a crocodile makes no moral choice at all. The continuum of consciousness paradigm would call the crocodile less conscious than Hitler if experts agreed it had diminished but still present idiosyncratic decision-making capability (even if moral judgment was absent) and at least some modicum of empathy.

A second important clarifying point relates to the term “independent.” While the true independence of anyone in society is contestable (e.g., do we just do what our genes tell us to do?), the inclusion of this term would exclude from consciousness only an entity that had absolutely no independent capacity, i.e., an automaton or zombie. The reason for the requirement of idiosyncratic thought is that we expect each human to be unique. Even if we are bounded by our genes, and constrained by our culture, we are each a one-of-a-kind, not fully predictable mixture of such programming. We are independent because our blended nature enables us to transcend our programming. (Skeptics of software consciousness, such as Roger Penrose in his book the Emperor’s Mind, rely on this characteristic, while others believe code can be written to transcend code). It is this fresh and slightly enigmatic characteristic, especially when applied in furtherance of rationality and/or empathy, which we expect in anyone who is conscious rather than autonomic. Hence, “independence” does not require being a pioneer, or a leader. It does require being able to decide things and act based on a personalized gestalt rather than only on a rigid formula.

There is a philosophical gray zone called “free will” between independent reasoning and instinctual or programmed behavior. A benefit of the continuum of consciousness paradigm is that it empowers a wide variety of views regarding the independence of behavior to be considered conscious, while still recognizing important differences in the role played by genes, instinct or programming.

A third clarifying point concerns the use of “empathy” in the definition of consciousness. Similar to moral choice, empathy is crucial to a definition of consciousness because it tells us whether someone feels like us, as well as thinks like us (autonomy). For example, no matter how good a machine was at being an autonomous decision-maker (including moral decisions), and aware of its surroundings and of itself, most people would not admit it was conscious unless it truly seemed to understand and identify with other people’s feelings – which would require it to have feelings of its own. A mere ability to expertly arrive at moral judgments, without any affect in relation to any of those judgments, will not pass a consciousness litmus test with most people. To be humanly conscious one must not only know that genocide is wrong; one must also feel that genocide is horrific.

Empathy is a subset of sentience, which is the ability to have feelings and/or emotions. Hence, sentience is a necessary, but not sufficient, basis for consciousness. While every animal that feels pain is sentient, only those that identify and understand another being’s pain, at least to some extent, have a position on the Empathy axis of consciousness. Empathy also overlaps self-awareness, another necessary, but not sufficient, basis for consciousness. As shown in the chart below, the overlapping domains of self-awareness, sentience, empathy and autonomy define the continuum of consciousness.






Definition of Consciousness Diagram
1 – Self-aware entities that lack feelings as well as autonomy, such as the DARPA car that drives itself but cannot decide to do anything else.
2 -- Sentient entities that lack self-awareness as well as empathy, such as an arthropod (< 10M neurons).
3 -- Autonomous entities that lack feelings, such as a suitably programmed robot without emotion routines.
4 -- Empathetic entities that lack self-awareness, such as some pets.
5 – Conscious entities that are self-aware and sentient, and more specifically are relatively autonomous and empathetic, like people.