A ten-year-old German girl who was born with only half of her brain has also been reported to be quite normal. She even has almost perfect vision in one eye, whereas hemispherectomy patients lose part of their field of vision right after the operation.12 Scottish researcher Lars Muckli commented, “The brain has amazing plasticity but we were quite astonished to see just how well the single hemisphere of the brain in this girl has adapted to compensate for the missing half.”
While these observations certainly support the idea of plasticity in the neocortex, their more interesting implication is that we each appear to have two brains, not one, and we can do pretty well with either. If we lose one, we do lose the cortical patterns that are uniquely stored there, but each brain is in itself fairly complete. So does each hemisphere have its own consciousness? There is an argument to be made that such is the case.
Consider split-brain patients, who still have both of their brain hemispheres, but the channel between them has been cut. The corpus callosum is a bundle of about 250 million axons that connects the left and right cerebral hemispheres and enables them to communicate and coordinate with each other. Just as two people can communicate closely with each other and act as a single decision maker while remaining separate and whole individuals, the two brain hemispheres can function as a unit while remaining independent.
As the term implies, in split-brain patients the corpus callosum has been cut or damaged, leaving them effectively with two functional brains without a direct communication link between them. American psychology researcher Michael Gazzaniga (born in 1939) has conducted extensive experiments on what each hemisphere in split-brain patients is thinking.
The left hemisphere in a split-brain patient usually sees the right visual field, and vice versa. Gazzaniga and his colleagues showed a split-brain patient a picture of a chicken claw to the right visual field (which was seen by his left hemisphere) and a snowy scene to the left visual field (which was seen by his right hemisphere). He then showed a collection of pictures so that both hemispheres could see them. He asked the patient to choose one of the pictures that went well with the first picture. The patient’s left hand (controlled by his right hemisphere) pointed to a picture of a shovel, whereas his right hand pointed to a picture of a chicken. So far so good—the two hemispheres were acting independently and sensibly. “Why did you choose that?” Gazzaniga asked the patient, who answered verbally (controlled by his left-hemisphere speech center), “The chicken claw obviously goes with the chicken.” But then the patient looked down and, noticing his left hand pointing to the shovel, immediately explained this (again with his left-hemisphere-controlled speech center) as “and you need a shovel to clean out the chicken shed.”
This is a confabulation. The right hemisphere (which controls the left arm and hand) correctly points to the shovel, but because the left hemisphere (which controls the verbal answer) is unaware of the snow, it confabulates an explanation, yet is not aware that it is confabulating. It is taking responsibility for an action it had never decided on and never took, but thinks that it did.
This implies that each of the two hemispheres in a split-brain patient has its own consciousness. The hemispheres appear not to be aware that their body is effectively controlled by two brains, because they learn to coordinate with each other, and their decisions are sufficiently aligned and consistent that each thinks that the decisions of the other are its own.
Gazzaniga’s experiment doesn’t prove that a normal individual with a functioning corpus callosum has two conscious half-brains, but it is suggestive of that possibility. While the corpus callosum allows for effective collaboration between the two half-brains, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they are not separate minds. Each one could be fooled into thinking it has made all the decisions, because they would all be close enough to what each would have decided on its own, and after all, it does have a lot of influence on each decision (by collaborating with the other hemisphere through the corpus callosum). So to each of the two minds it would seem as if it were in control.
How would you test the conjecture that they are both conscious? One could assess them for neurological correlates of consciousness, which is precisely what Gazzaniga has done. His experiments show that each hemisphere is acting as an independent brain. Confabulation is not restricted to brain hemispheres; we each do it on a regular basis. Each hemisphere is about as intelligent as a human, so if we believe that a human brain is conscious, then we have to conclude that each hemisphere is independently conscious. We can assess the neurological correlates and we can conduct our own thought experiments (for example, considering that if two brain hemispheres without a functioning corpus callosum constitute two separate conscious minds, then the same would have to hold true for two hemispheres with a functioning connection between them), but any attempt at a more direct detection of consciousness in each hemisphere confronts us again with the lack of a scientific test for consciousness. But if we do allow that each hemisphere of the brain is conscious, then do we grant that the so-called unconscious activity in the neocortex (which constitutes the vast bulk of its activity) has an independent consciousness too? Or maybe it has more than one? Indeed, Marvin Minsky refers to the brain as a “society of mind.”13
In another split-brain experiment the researchers showed the word “bell” to the right brain and “music” to the left brain. The patient was asked what word he saw. The left-hemisphere-controlled speech center says “music.” The subject was then shown a group of pictures and asked to point to a picture most closely related to the word he was just shown. His right-hemisphere-controlled arm pointed to the bell. When he was asked why he pointed to the bell, his left-hemisphere-controlled speech center replied, “Well, music, the last time I heard any music was the bells banging outside here.” He provided this explanation even though there were other pictures to choose from that were much more closely related to music.
Again, this is a confabulation. The left hemisphere is explaining as if it were its own a decision that it never made and never carried out. It is not doing so to cover up for a friend (that is, its other hemisphere)—it genuinely thinks that the decision was its own.
These reactions and decisions can extend to emotional responses. They asked a teenage split-brain patient—so that both hemispheres heard—“Who is your favorite…” and then fed the word “girlfriend” just to the right hemisphere through the left ear. Gazzaniga reports that the subject blushed and acted embarrassed, an appropriate reaction for a teenager when asked about his girlfriend. But the left-hemisphere-controlled speech center reported that it had not heard any word and asked for clarification: “My favorite what?” When asked again to answer the question, this time in writing, the right-hemisphere-controlled left hand wrote out his girlfriend’s name.
Gazzaniga’s tests are not thought experiments but actual mind experiments. While they offer an interesting perspective on the issue of consciousness, they speak even more directly to the issue of free will. In each of these cases, one of the hemispheres believes that it has made a decision that it in fact never made. To what extent is that true for the decisions we make every day?