The term “consciousness” can mean various things. Online this week in Scientific American, an article describes research reported in Nature Neuroscience. The following passages from the SciAm article point to an ambiguity in the use of the term.
New research suggests that some vegetative patients are capable of simple learning—a sign of consciousness in many who failed other traditional tests. …
To decide whether patients are in a minimally conscious state (MCS), in which there is some evidence of perception, or intentional movement or have sunk into a vegetative state (VS), where there is neither, doctors have traditionally used a battery of tests and observations, many of which require some subjective interpretation, such as deciding whether a patient’s movements are purposeful—to indicate a sullied feeding tube, for example—or just random. …
Previous neuroimaging work had surprised doctors by showing that some vegetative patients, when asked to imagine performing physical tasks such as playing tennis, still had activity in premotor areas. In other patients, verbal cues sparked language sectors….
The Nature Neuroscience study, conducted in Argentina, used anesthetized patients and showed they were capable of a classical Pavlovian conditioned response, in this case, learning that a tone would be quickly followed by a puff of air to the eye causing a blink. Some anesthetized and vegetative patients developed the conditioned response, according to the article, and blinked when the tone sounded.
Whether or not capacity for Pavlovian conditioning implies consciousness may be open to debate, and the issue is further considered in the report. But I have a somewhat different interest in discussing this article: Whatever the state of the comatose patients, it isn’t normal alert consciousness; if they are conscious, it can only be to some degree. Yet the authors of both articles (in SciAm and in Nature Neuroscience) used the term “consciousness” to refer to that state. Indeed, the SciAm reporter, Katherine Harmon, wrote at the beginning of one paragraph, “even less conscious organisms, such as snails, can be conditioned to equate the stimuli.”[Italics added.] This implies she used the word to describe something that can exist in various degrees.
Yet at another point in the report, Harmon noted that one of the Nature Neuroscience authors made a statement that implies consciousness is either present or absent. Quoting the scientist, she wrote, “Either the patients “‘have consciousness or maybe the test is wrong.’” In a posting in August, I described a similar confusion about consciousness in the writings of another SciAm reporter, Christopher Koch. He used the word to refer both to an all-or-nothing phenomenon and a phenomenon existing in various degrees.
The core confusion, I suspect, lies in blurring the difference between two concepts: (1) the state of being alert and attentive, and (2) the capacity for consciousness at all. The former is a narrow idea that refers to the locus and extension of a person’s consciousness at a particular moment. The second is a broad notion that refers to a person’s fundamental nature or being. When I use the term, I usually mean the latter, since I usually focus on consciousness itself.
The difference between attention—consciousness at one moment—and consciousness itself is not only a frequent source of confusion, but also a question of fundamental importance. In colloquial speech, we frequently refer to some idea as being unconscious or out of consciousness. The phrase seems almost a contradiction of terms, since if it is an idea, how can it be unconscious?
What neurophysiological state might correspond to an idea being out of consciousness?
The SciAm report suggests a possibility. It describes recent efforts to study vegetative patients with functional MRI scanners. Harmon wrote of this effort:
That fMRI findings of cognitive processes in vegetative patients have been trickling in recently leads John Whyte, the principal investigator at the Neuro-Cognitive Rehabilitation Research Network, who wasn’t involved in the [Argentine] research, to question the designation system itself. It may be that “there is a firm line” between vegetative and minimally conscious patients, “but our tools are too crude to tell us who is on which side of the line,” he says. Or it may be that categories of consciousness are not so easy to define. “It seems quite plausible that people can have neurocircuits that are capable of doing something and [others] that are not.”
Whyte is making the case for the possibility of consciousness existing in various degrees. But he elaborates a bit, suggesting that neurocircuits in the brain can operate independently. In vegetative a patient who exhibits the capacity for conditioned learning, it may be that the cluster of neurons executing that function is conscious. But the consciousness of that functional circuit may be disconnected and out of communication with other regions of the brain.
I’ve posted before about the intimate connection of communication and consciousness. In my view, communication and consciousness are much the same thing. For instance, imagine if you will a patient with many distinct functional centers of the brain each operating separately, performing their particular operations, but the do not communicate with each other.
I believe that such a patient would appear comatose. If communication between centers of the brain were severely disrupted, the patient might appear vegetative. If communication were present to some limited degree, the patient might seem minimally conscious.
I think it would be reasonable to describe each distinct brain center as conscious within itself, but the global brain would not be conscious as a functional whole. Partial conscious could perhaps be defined in terms of the amount of communication between separate functional centers of the brain.