Now Ralph Numbers is portrayed as conscious (and self-conscious—if we can distinguish the two), but is that really necessary? Might all Ralph Numbers’s control structure, with all its information about the environment—and about Numbers himself—be engineered without a trace of consciousness? Might a robot look just like Ralph Numbers from the outside—performing just as cleverly in all circumstances, executing all the same moves, making the same speeches—without having any inside? The author seems to hint that this would be possible just make the new Ralph Numbers like the old Ralph Numbers minus a self-symbol and a feeling of personal consciousness. Now if subtracting the supposed self-symbol and the feeling of personal consciousness left Ralph’s control structure basically intact—so that we on the outside would never be the wiser, for instance, and would go on engaging Ralph in conversations, enlisting his cooperation, and so forth—we would be back to the beginning and the sense that there is no point to a self-symbol—no work for it to do. If instead we think of Ralph’s having a self-symbol as precisely a matter of his having a control structure of a certain sophistication and versatility, capable of devising elaborate context-sensitive self-regarding act then there is no way of removing his self-symbol without downgrade his behavioral talents to pre-lobster stupidity.
Let Ralph have his self-symbol, then, but would a “feeling of personal consciousness” go along with it? To return to our question, is portrayal of Ralph as conscious necessary? It makes a better story, but the first-person perspective from Ralph Numbers’s point of view a of cheat? Poetic license, like Beatrix Potter’s talking bunny rabbits, better, the Little Engine That Could?
It is all very well to insist that you can conceive of Ralph Numbers existing with all his clever behavior but entirely lacking in consciousness (Searle makes such a claim in selection 22, “Minds, Brains, and Programs.”) Indeed you can always view a robot that way if you want. Just concentrate on images of little bits of internal hardware and re yourself that they are vehicles of information only by virtue of cleverly designed interrelationships between events in the sensed environment robotic actions, and the rest. But equally, you can view a human being way if you are really intent on it. Just concentrate on images of little of brain tissue—neurons and synapses and the like—and remind your that they are vehicles of information only by virtue of wonderfully signed interrelationships between sensed events in the environment bodily actions, and the rest. What you would leave out if you insisted viewing another person that way would be that person’s point of view, we say. But isn’t there a point of view for Ralph Numbers too? When are told the tale from that point of view, we understand what is going what decisions are being made, what hopes and fears are being ac upon. The point of view, viewed in the abstract as a sort of place f which to tell the story, is perfectly well defined even if we are inclined think that that point of view would be vacated, or uninhabited, w Ralph Numbers really to exist.
But why, finally, would anyone think the point of view was vacated? If the Ralph Numbers body existed, with its needs and circumstances,. if that body was self-controlled in the ways imagined in the story, and moreover, the speech acts it could perform included avowals of h things were from Ralph Numbers’s point of view, what grounds would anyone have—other than those of a vestigial and mystical dualism mind and body—for being skeptical about the existence of Ralph Numbers himself?
D.C.D.
We have prepared this report to provide fuller information in connection with the President’s recent press conference on the so-called “Riddle.” We hope the report helps to dispel the ugly mood apparent throughout the country, bordering on panic, which has most recently found expression in irresponsible demands to close the universities. Our report has been prepared in haste; in addition, our work was tragically disrupted, as described later.
We first review the less well known early history of the Riddle. The earliest known case is that of C. Dizzard, a research fellow with the Autotomy Group at M.I.U. Dizzard had previously worked for several small firms specializing in the development of artificial intelligence software for commercial applications. Dizzard’s current project involved the use of computers in theorem proving, on the model of the proof in the 1970s of the four-color theorem. The state of Dizzard’s project is know only from a year-old progress report; however, these are often intended at most for external use. We shall not discuss the area of Dizzard’s work further. The reason for our reticence will be apparent shortly.
Dizzard last spoke one morning before an Easter weekend, while waiting for a routine main computer system failure to be fixed. Colleagues saw Dizzard at the terminal in his office at about midnight that day; late-night work habits are common among computer users, and Dizzard was known to sleep in his office. On the next afternoon, a coworker noticed Dizzard sitting at his terminal. He spoke to Dizzard, but Dizzard did not reply, not an unusual occurrence. On the morning after the vacation, another colleague found Dizzard sitting with his eyes open before his terminal, which was on. Dizzard seemed awake but did not respond to questions. Later that day, the colleague became concerned by Dizzard’s unresponsiveness and tried to arouse him from what he thought was a daydream or daze. When these attempts were unsuccessful, Dizzard was taken to a hospital emergency room.
Dizzard showed symptoms of a total food-and-water fast of a week (aggravated by marginal malnutrition caused by a vending-machine diet); he was in critical condition from dehydration. The inference was that Dizzard had not moved for several days, and that the cause of his immobility was a coma or trance. The original conjecture was that a stroke or tumor caused Dizzard’s paralysis. However, electroencephalograms indicated only deep coma. (According to Dizzard’s health records, he had been institutionalized briefly ten years ago, not an uncommon incident in certain fields.) Dizzard died, apparently of his fast, two days later. Autopsy was delayed by objections of next of kin, members of a breakaway sect of the neo Jemimakins cult. Histological examination of Dizzard’s brain so far has revealed no damage whatever; these investigations continue at the National Center for Disease Control.
The director of the Autotomy Group appointed one of Dizzard’s graduate students to manage his project while a decision was made about its future. The floor of Dizzard’s office was about one foot deep in papers and books; the student was busy for a month just sorting the materials into some general scheme. Shortly afterward, the student reported at a staff meeting that she had begun work on Dizzard’s last project and that she had found little of particular interest. A week later she was found sitting at the terminal in Dizzard’s office in an apparent daze.
There was confusion at first, because she was thought to be making a poor joke. She was staring straight ahead, breathing normally. She did not respond to questions or being shaken, and showed no startle response to loud noises. After she was accidentally bumped from her chair, she was hospitalized. The examining neurologist was unaware of Dizzard’s case. He reported the patient was in apparently good physical condition, except for a previously undiagnosed pineal gland abnormality. After Autotomy Project staff answered inquiries by the student’s friends, her parents informed the attending physician of Dizzard’s case. The neurologist noted the difficulty of comparing the two cases, but suggested the similarities of deep coma with no detectable brain damage; the student’s symptoms constituted no identifiable syndrome.