We all may be living selflessly

Usually we consider that being "selfless" means acting altruistically. This casts the word in a moral sense, which is how most religions see it. We're supposed to put God and others before ourselves.

But there's a scientific side to selflessness that I'm finding increasingly intriguing: the notion that nobody has a self, so we're all selfless -- including the greediest, most egotistical, and me-centered among us.

Recently I wrote about a book where noted thinkers talk about what they believe, but cannot prove. I quoted psychologist Susan Blackmore:

It is possible to live happily and morally without believing in free will. As Samuel Johnson said "All theory is against the freedom of the will; all experience is for it." With recent developments in neuroscience and theories of consciousness, theory is even more against it than it was in his time, more than 200 years ago. So I long ago set about systematically changing the experience. I now have no feeling of acting with free will, although the feeling took many years to ebb away.

...When the feeling is gone, decisions just happen with no sense of anyone making them, but then a new question arises—will the decisions be morally acceptable? Here I have made a great leap of faith (or the memes and genes and world have done so). It seems that when people throw out the illusion of an inner self who acts, as many mystics and Buddhist practitioners have done, they generally do behave in ways that we think of as moral or good. So perhaps giving up free will is not as dangerous as it sounds—but this too I cannot prove.

Free will is closely connected with having (or being) a self that is unchanging. Where, though, is the evidence for a self, soul, or whatever which stands apart from all of the ever-altering processes in the brain and nervous system?

There isn't any.

So I agree with Blackmore that recognizing or realizing the absence of a self is something that may not ever be able to be proven, yet is perhaps an absolutely real experiential phenomenon.

In another book by Blackmore, "Consciousness: A Very Short Introduction," she delves more into this fascinating scientific and philosophical subject.

Blackmore shows one of those familiar optical "illusions" (not quite the right word) where a drawing of a three-dimensional box looks at first glance like it is facing one way. However, if you stare at it for a while, the box will suddenly look like it is facing another way.

Nothing has changed, except the brain's interpretation of the drawing. In my experience, the jump from one appearance to another can't be forced.

It seems to happen on its own. Even when I know there is another way of perceiving the box, because I've seen it before, I can't will my brain to shift into another way of seeing. It just happens, which is how Buddhism and other like-minded spiritual traditions say enlightenment occurs.

If Blackmore is correct about us being selfless, and neuroscience points to the fact that she is, then enlightenment may be nothing more than seeing through the illusion of "I" created by the brain/mind for evolutionary reasons we may never be able to fully grasp.

This morning my wife either did, or didn't, take some medication that she's supposed to swallow twice a day. She'd opened the refrigerator where it is kept, rummaged around in the contents, and then, a few minutes later, couldn't remember whether she'd taken the pill.

Whether she did, or didn't, some fairly complex brain-body activities were going on. These are akin to an example Blackmore talks about in her "Consciousness" book: driving along in a car and finding yourself at your destination without much, if any, memory of having driven there.

The driving just happened automatically, while the driver's attention was occupied elsewhere. Thinking about other stuff, listening to music, a host of possibilities.

This shows that consciousness, and conscious actions, can occur just fine without a "self" being aware of them. I can't tell you how many times I've driven halfway to town (about ten minutes from our house) and suddenly thought, "Geez, did I turn off the burner after I cooked the vegiburger?"

I can't recall rotating the switch. But having gotten older and wiser, after turning around several times and always finding the burner off, I've learned that I do many things correctly during a typical day without being aware that I'm doing them.

Where am "I" at these moments? Somebody is taking the medication, driving along, or turning the burner off. However, this likely isn't an enduring "self" -- just a collection of brain processes.

Blackmore says:

It seems we have some tough choices in thinking about our own precious self. We can hang on to the way it feels and assume that a persisting self or soul or spirit exists, even though it cannot be found and leads to deep philosophical troubles.

We can equate it with some kind of brain process and shelve the problem of why this brain process should have conscious experiences at all, or we can reject any persistihg entity that corresponds to our feeling of being a self.

I think that intellectually we have to take this last path. The trouble is that it is very hard to accept in one's personal life. It means taking a radically different view of every experience. It means accepting that there is no one who is having these experiences.

It means accepting that every time I seem to exist, this is just a temporary fiction and not the same "me" who seemed to exist a moment before, or last week, or last year. This is tough, but I think it gets easier with practice.

Comments

[Dungeness]

It seems we have some tough choices in thinking about our own precious self. We can hang on to the way it feels and assume that a persisting self or soul or spirit exists, even though it cannot be found and leads to deep philosophical troubles.

I'd agree with Blackmore if someone fanatically clings to belief without knowledge. But the goal of mystic disciplines is inner transcendent knowledge, not some ritualized narrative of souls and heavens.

We can equate it with some kind of brain process and shelve the problem of why this brain process should have conscious experiences at all, or we can reject any persistihg entity that corresponds to our feeling of being a self.

I believe that's ultimately unsatisfying for most. On a intuitive level, we sense a self that's aware. To equate this consciousness with brain processes stultifies that deep intuition and inner awareness. And, on the other hand, every explanation of brain process leads to another question. The mystery of awareness, all the enduring existential questions of life go unanswered.

We may get to our driving destination without being aware of how we got there. But the same lapse of awareness may send you down an unknown street. How many times do we regret the dead ends and lost time our unfocused consciousness and aimless thought have led us to... The mystic discipline is that we can achieve, not just transcendent knowledge, but mastery of thought itself and an ability to remain focused in the eternal "now".

[Bharat Bhushan]

Once, while I was sitting in front of Bhagat Munshi Ram (Baba Faqir Chand’s nominee to work as Satguru), he explained selfless actions. He was of the view that any action with our will could not lead to selfless actions. However if the actions are under instructions of a well chosen Guru, it leads to selfless work. I think he is right. However, I think, we may not know when our will may join such actions.

[Mike Williams]

" It means accepting that there is no one who is having these experiences."
quote Susan Blackmore

You know I always joke about being a diehard
atheist (desperately in search of God).

And I like to take walks on the riverbank
because no one is there.

For years I have played this strange game
with my self about God.

For instance I would hold out my finger
and say, "God if you exist, make this dragonfly land on my finger."

After thousands of tries, the closest one ever came was a foot from my finger.

Various tests to see if God would come
out of his hole.

So, a few months ago I posted on Church of the Churchless several atheist blogs.

A few minutes later, I walked up the banks of a riverbank wall, next to where a big pipe span the riverbank.

There sat a bald eagle and it did not move
when I approached it. (It turned out to
be a broadtail hawk, very large white head bird identical to an eagle).

I thought is must have been someones pet
as I got within ten feet of it and it just
sat there looking at me.

So, of course I asked the eagle if there
was a God. (Who would know better then an
eagle I thought)

The bird started making strange noises
and I mimicked the sounds and we went back
and forth for about 2 minutes.

The eagle flew off down the river bank
and I watched it land in a tall tree
about 1/2 mile down the river.

So, I said, well that still doesn't prove
there is a God.

So, I said to myself, OK eagle, if there
is a God I want you to immediately fly
out of that tree, fly around my head exactly
three times and fly back to your nest.

The eagle did exactly that and only 20 feet
over my head while watching me three times
and flew back to its nest.

I immediately started calculating the odds
and came up with an amazing 4,000,0000 to one.

I began to think I must be dreaming.

Then I thought there must be some rational
explanation, because I was so sure God
didn't exist.

But, could I have been wrong all this time ?

So, I started looking for some reason the eagle flew back to me.

Then it occured to me, the eagle was sitting
on the pipe because it was watching for
a lizard, or rat.

But, that was impossible as the land was
perfectly flat with not a single bush
for an animal to his behind.

So, I started to freak out. My God,
there is a God I declared to myself !!!

Whoppee

I thought I can't wait to go back home
and post to Brian we have all been wrong
and I was now a believer.

As I turned around to walk away I noticed
a small hole in the ground.

Oh No .... I thought.

A gopher hole had been right next to me.

The eagle had circled to look for a gopher.

What I have told you is absolutely true.

I figure the odds on it circling my head
exactly three times was only one in ten.

The next time I was there I tried it
with a crow and a seagull.

No luck.