“You don't merely think that
the tomato has a back, or judge or infer that it is there. You have a
sense, a visual sense, of its presence. In what does the visual sense of the
presence of the hidden parts of the thing consist, if it does not consist in
the fact that we see them? This is the problem of perceptual presence—or
better: the problem of presence in
absence. The object shows up for visual consciousness precisely as unseen. […] The
thing that needs explaining is not that we mistakenly take ourselves to see something that we don't see. The
puzzle is that we take ourselves to have a sense of the presence in perception
of something that is manifestly out of view." —Alva Noë
Here contemporary philosopher of perception, Alva Noë, outlines the the
issue of what he terms "presence in absence." Whilst I do not agree
with all of Noë’s theories, his avoidance of any reliance upon cognitive
representational states is very much to his credit. Nonetheless, in rejecting
these unsubstantiated phantoms, these spectral darlings of much scientific and
philosophical presupposition, he pays little regard to the role of other forms
of representation (the only kind for which proof exists) that are so vital for
an explanation of our ability to conceive of absence and, arguably, of
perception itself.
Noë is right, I think, to identify a significant philosophical issue with
the question of absence, of our capacity to account for the parts of the things
that are currently out of view. For him the answer to this paradox lies in our
"sensorimotor understanding” and “conceptual knowledge" of the things
that we see that "brings the world into focus for perceptual
consciousness" and that "discloses the world to us." He writes:
"To perceive something, you must understand it, and to understand
it you must, in a way, already know it, you must have already made its
acquaintance.
There are no novel experiences. The conditions of novelty are, in
effect, the conditions of invisibility. To experience something, you must
comprehend it by the familiarizing work of the understanding. You must master
it. Domesticated it. Know it."
But how should we interpret this “understanding”, this “perceiving”,
this "knowing"? If I reach for what I know is a fresh tomato only to find that it is fake then quite
evidently there was something I didn’t know that I now know. Moreover, if the
new knowledge contradicts the assumed knowledge – the preconception - then I
think it would be right to say that I have encountered an unexpected, if not
novel, experience. If someone pops their head around my door to say hello, I
know that I’m not looking at a disembodied head. But I’m not convinced that the
best explanation for what I perceive is provided by reference to my sensorimotor
understanding or even to my conceptual knowledge. What the explanation requires
is my capacity to answer the question – should it ever arise – “To what is the
head attached?”
For an organism to be surprised - for novelty even -
there has to be a capacity for expectation. Without an expectation of presence it is inconceivable that an absence could be registered. A vixen doesn't
register the absence of an inexistent fox cub any more than we might detect the
absence of the future. Or, to paraphrase Noë: to expect something, you must have already made its acquaintance.
But, as we have already seen, to be acquainted with something, does not
necessitate knowing it in any substantive sense. To be acquainted with
something may be to know nothing more
than what to expect when becoming reacquainted with it – to be aware of what
features, attributes or properties one would miss if they were absent. In order
for this to be possible we need not assume representational mental states nor require
sensorimotor understanding but merely a capacity for registering a disagreement
between the current perception and whatever residual cognitive capacities
(memories) remain of the thing as previously encountered.
But to conclude the explanation here would be to
neglect the most important part of the story. What needs explaining is the
nature of this capacity to register absence. Advocates of representational
states will simply assert that we possess cognitive representations that allow
us to perceive absence. But as Noë rightly argues, an absence is not something
that can figure as a mental state, let alone a representational mental state because "What they [neurons] can’t do is fire in such a way as to signal that a hidden
feature is present”
The reason that our capacity to produce
representations is so vital to an understanding of absence is because
perception is conditional upon our capacity to represent things. For
sophisticated representation users like ourselves this capacity most often
manifests itself as one or other of a vast repertoire of representational actions:
an exclamation, a description, a raised eyebrow, a shrug, a song, a dance, a movie,
a poem. But it need not be the case that we actually produce a representation.
We need only be capable of doing so.
So, when Noë says that we have a “visual sense” of the
hidden parts of the tomato he is not implying – although he might be mistaken
as implying - that we literally have a sensory capacity to detect absence. Not
even the Large Hadron Collider at CERN has sensors capable of detecting absence.
Absence is undetectable. What we “sense”, or better still, what we are capable
of doing when we look at the world is
representing the things that we see. Furthermore, we know how to offer
representational best guesses about the things that we can’t see. But this knowledge
isn’t so much a knowledge of the fullness of things - it is a knowledge of how
to represent them in whatever partial or limited form they are encountered.
Very often the accuracy of our representational capacities is borne out by further
investigation. Sometimes not. Sometimes the back of the tomato turns out to have
a bite out of it.
3 comments:
Neurons don't 'signify the absence of a feature by failing…to modulate their activity'. That's like proving God exists by praying to God to prove he's there by doing nothing if he's definitely there. And neurons don't 'modulate their receptive field' anyway. The receptive field of a sensory neuron 'modulates' the neuron I suppose, if by that you mean it excites it.
That’s exactly right Simon. Perhaps it was a mistake on my part to quote Noë on that point because he’s very obviously blurring facts that should be made as crystal clear as possible. Unfortunately Noë tends to be rather unscrupulous with his terminology – take his frequent use of the term “visual sense” as case in point. He can't literally mean that we have a sensory capacity to detect these absences. He must surely be referring to something occurring on a cognitive level not on a sensory level. Presumably he is using “sense” in the way that we might use the word "awareness" but it’s certainly sloppy for him to be so imprecise.
The other major issue that we might identify with the quote is with the term “signify.” Neurons don’t signify. If Noë does indeed reject mental representation then he’s contradicting himself there.
In his defense I think the point he was trying to make was that neurons don’t fire in response to nothing. But if the quote is undermining the point I’m trying to make then perhaps I should remove it.
The quote was:
“Neurons can modulate their receptive field; they signify the absence of a feature by failing in any way to modulate their activity. What they can’t do is fire in such a way as to signal that a hidden feature is present”
Now removed.
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