The philosophy of mind, as the philosopher David Wiggins once remarked, is a terminological slum. At its heart sits the word ‘consciousness’, like Proteus the shapeshifter, beset by a gang of Procrusteans hacking and chopping away and saying that really it means this, that or the other. The slum now extends into AI, IT, physics, psychology, neuroscience and science in general, and it envelops Michael Pollan’s new book, A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness, despite his best efforts to control it. 

What I mean by ‘consciousness’ is what Thomas Nagel and many others mean when they say that it is like something to be a dog or a human being or a bat, and like nothing to be a glass of water or a corkscrew. The idea behind the definition is crystal clear (it’s characteristic of the shabby nature of the consciousness debate that people regularly try to twist it out of shape), and it’s this ‘something it is like’ that is what most people mean by ‘consciousness’, including, I’m glad to say, Pollan. It’s also, quite certainly, the best thing to mean, if one wants to address the real issue.

‘Consciousness’ isn’t an abstract noun (the ‘ness’ of ‘consciousness’ can mislead). It’s a word for actual conscious experiences, conscious goings-on, colour experiences, taste experiences, pains, emotions, understanding experiences and so on. (What is an understanding experience? You’re having one – or so I hope – right now.) It’s a word