To return to the daily lives of our ancestors and their early moments of migration, lack of knowledge and uncertainty about what lay over the horizon likely were influential and disturbing factors vis-à-vis decision making. Early migrants had only themselves as information sources—no maps, travel guides, or access to Google Earth. Thus, a reasonable guess is that they were guided by imaginings such as “there may be desirable land over the horizon,” “fewer predators may live in the next valley,” and “more food may be available across the river”—in effect, the integration of bits and pieces of experience as they might apply to locations about which specific information was lacking. For such imaginings, past experiences would have served as a constraint: individuals living in central Africa and lacking familiarity with large bodies of water were unlikely to imagine trips across the sea, while those living at the seashore might have done so.
TWO TYPES OF MEMORY
Early forms of two types of memory likely affected both imaginings and belief.14 Episodic memory, or the recall of prior experiences, is one type.15 Working memory is another type: it refers to the ability to hold information in memory and manipulate it.16
With episodic memory, past experiences could be recalled and behavior that worked successfully yesterday could be repeated today—the tool kits that have been mentioned. Working memory could facilitate the reorganization of what was being recalled and serve as the basis for imagining novel strategies, such as cooking meat differently to alter its taste and digestibility or changing hunting strategies to improve their success.17 These changes likely built primarily on the recall of schemata—essentially, direct evidence of experiences—which retain features of events that are lost in the verbal recall of an event and are absent with secondary evidence.18
Episodic and working memory also were likely contributors to early divides. But episodic memory can be very inexact, something psychoanalysts and laboratory studies of memory established decades ago. Should this point be doubted, try recalling the details of a movie you viewed a year or two ago. Many of its details will be remembered incorrectly if at all. Episodic recall thus may be accurate or not. The catch is that it is often difficult to distinguish between the two possibilities. Add to these points the already-mentioned divide-reduction effects of data distortions: disconfirming cases are ignored, and selective remembering leads to recalling more confirming than disconfirming experiences.19 In effect, imaginings may find their origins in inaccurate memory and information manipulation.
The preceding points add up this way. Among our early ancestors, differences in information-processing capacities were likely greater than they are today. Further, early imaginings were more likely to have become beliefs than is the case today—this is because of the relative absence of experiences and secondary evidence that might disconfirm what was imagined. Without such information, there would be an enhanced bias favoring the narrowing of divides.
BELIEF
Two weeks after our visit to the zoo, my son wanted to return. I was busy that weekend and told him that we would have to delay the trip until the following week.
“But I want to go see Boo; he misses me,” was his reply.
“Are you sure we saw Boo when we were at the zoo?” I asked.
“Yes. He was there. Dad, I want to visit him; he will miss me.”
I changed my plans and we went to the zoo. No Boo was found. On the way home, my son offered why: “He left the zoo and he is coming to live with us.”
Six months passed before Boo was forgotten.
Following the emergence of imaginings, a likely next step was that some imaginings became beliefs and were associated with predictions. As mentioned, this may have occurred in response to natural occurrences, such as an eclipse. But beliefs were also likely to have developed in association with less dramatic events. Eating an unfamiliar root or an unfamiliar part of an animal, if followed by serious indigestion, would lead to connecting the two events and the belief that one caused the other. So too for excessive fatigue following a hard day’s work or the scratch of a thorn followed by a painful infection. Such connections are often highly predictive, narrow divides, and are associated with action.
A probable accompanying step was belief generalization. For example, it might have been imagined that hunger would occur while climbing a mountain. Before climbing a mountain for the first time, there was no certainty that it would. The divide was indeterminate. But once, or maybe twice, or even thrice, when a climber experienced hunger while climbing, the uncertainty would disappear and be replaced by belief and prediction of future behavior: what happened today will take place in a similar fashion tomorrow and next week. What was once an indeterminate divide narrowed or disappeared. In turn, beliefs associated with predictions could be generalized: hunger will occur while climbing mountains north, south, east, and west. Our current understanding of the brain hints at how such generalization might have taken place: unperceived imaginary rehearsal, which improves the precision of predicting outcomes of future actions, is likely to have become progressively refined and reduced divide distances.20
Beliefs dealing with cause-and-effect interpretations are consistent with ethnographic reports from so-called primitive societies. Events ranging from the mundane to the spectacular are explained by both likely and unlikely causes or, at times, vice versa.21 These creative imaginings and beliefs offer insights into many of the brain’s repeated inventions over much of history such as gods, mysterious forces in the universe, and animals and inanimate objects with personalities and other humanlike attributes. Nor have imaginings and beliefs changed much compared to the distant past. One might expect that over time a body of beliefs would build in which those that consistently predict outcomes would trump those that don’t. Poor and inconsistent predictors of future outcomes or events would disappear. But among twenty-first-century humans, imaginings and beliefs dealing with gods, afterlives, conspiracies, the economy, the private lives of others, overnight solutions to complex problems, and unrealistic strategies for personality change are everywhere apparent.22 We see what we believe.
AMBIGUITY AND UNCERTAINTY
Greg’s e-mail had its effect. His concern about the overlap of ambiguity and uncertainty kept spinning around in my head. Things were still spinning weeks later when I arrived in Mexico to visit my sister and her husband. She and her husband, an Italian and former member of the Alfa Romeo race team, lived on a ranch outside Taxco. One afternoon, during a quiet moment, I picked a book from their library. It identified a dozen lost cities of the world, cities either that myth said had existed or for which there was evidence of their existence but they couldn’t be found.
Rio Bec B was one of the cities. It was first identified near the border of Quintana Rue (Mexico) and Guatemala in the early years of the twentieth century. Subsequent expeditions to locate it had failed to do so. At the time, it was believed to be one of the last major cities built by the Maya. Its potential importance stemmed from the possibility that it might help explain the implosion of the Maya civilization.
I suggested to my brother-in-law that we should try and find it. The suggestion clicked. The idea of searching for a lost city excited him. Eight months later, our search began.
The area in which we searched was dense jungle. Aside from the already-mentioned jaguars, available reports noted that the area was inhabited by highly aggressive ants and a variety of poisonous snakes, including the bushmaster, the fer-de-lance, the coral snake, and the tropical rattler.
This story is not about finding Rio Bec B, however. We didn’t find it, despite spending two weeks tracking about the jungle. Rather it’s about moments of the search, poisonous snakes, imaginings, uncertainty, and ambiguity.
One morning, weary of living in the semidarkness of the forest and hoping to get a dose of sunlight close to our camp, we cleared an area of its bushes and small trees so that rays from the sun could reach the ground. We then departed and continued our search. Two hours later, we return
ed to the camp. There in the sunlight were six snakes, all poisonous.
We had imagined that snakes lived in the area, but we were uncertain if they did. We had carefully watched for them. Yet until that moment in the sun, none had been seen. Once they were observed, our uncertainty about their presence disappeared only to be replaced by a new uncertainty: How dangerous was it to continue our travels through the forest? Our excursions in the jungle continued for another ten days, during which we were hypervigilant about snakes. Yet we never saw one again, except for one day when everyone was away from camp for several hours: snakes again had returned to the opening.
Ambiguity and uncertainty are states of awareness with physiologic, brain-system, and behavior features. They are unlikely to be brain systems, per se, but rather brain states that occur under certain conditions. Ambiguity refers to doubt about explanations of states or events that may be inexplicable or subject to several interpretations. Strange and unexpected behavior by close friends and trying to fathom the causes of complex social events, such as unpredicted population uprisings, are examples. Uncertainty refers to the absence of a clearly defined state or event. The suggestive appearance of life-forms at dusk often qualifies, as does the possibility of an afterlife for many people. Even in the physical world, ambiguity and uncertainty can’t be avoided: the world we perceive doesn’t reliably conform to the popular conception of causality, which assumes perfectly predictable cause-and-outcome relations.23 On the other hand, these states often can be avoided when one encounters a situation for which one has a ready and reliable tool kit with which to respond.
Ambiguity and uncertainty are not necessarily due to external stimuli. The brain’s information-processing systems may be their source. Illusory correlations and other types of information distortions have been mentioned. Or they may follow on the footsteps of a belief: for example, believing that a god exists can quickly lead to ambiguous or uncertain moments, such as wondering how best to please the god, whether the god is a friend or an enemy, or whether the god prefers some people to others. Similar situations apply to very practical situations: believing that one’s boss is the key to one’s future job promotion can lead to concerns about how to act, what to wear, what friends to make, and so forth. Because such situations are often aversive, a frequent response is to create an elaborate system of imaginings and beliefs to counter their undesirability.
A feature of both ambiguity and uncertainty is that they increase computational requirements. Contemplating the many possibilities of a potentially life-threatening operation is an example. The ambiguity associated with the choice of a doctor and the uncertainty of the outcome of the operation often won’t go away.
It is likely that the early-human brain of the remote past didn’t seek ambiguity and uncertainty any more than most people do today. Most of the time, we prefer certainty, clarity, and predictability. Uncertainty and ambiguity are associated with aversive changes in specific brain chemicals that have undesirable effects.24 Further, fMRI-identified signatures in the brain are known to be present and different types of ambiguity activate over two dozen areas in the brain. For example, studies show that the brain’s emotion-management center, the amygdala, is critical in initiating a sense of caution toward engaging in behavior in which the outcome is uncertain. The divide is indeterminate. Yet people frequently disregard the risk and act. Why?
A likely answer is that the brain isn’t sitting by idly. It has its own set of remedies for managing undesired physiologic effects. Recall that the brain has many independent agendas, and they are carried out without the intention or awareness of effort on the part of their owners. One of its favorite remedies is to reduce unpleasant states by developing beliefs and narrowing divides. To do so has proven to be an efficient energy saver. This happens when a new mother discards her worries and uncertainty about her infant’s “normality” and comes to believe that her child will grow up as a healthy, bright, and responsible human being. It occurs during moments of serious illness when one decides that one’s doctor is the best there is and that his recommended intervention will work as one hopes. Such beliefs lead to desirable physiological change.
Scholars in disciplines ranging from philosophy to psychology agree that believing that we can truly know the brain states of others is an illusion.1 The best we can do is make guesses, draw inferences, and engage in post hoc constructions. This holds even when others “reveal all” about themselves. Yet often we are convinced otherwise. We do believe we know other’s mental states. Actions associated with such beliefs often follow. When we choose friends, select spouses, hire or fire employees, or send individuals to jail, our beliefs about their brain states are involved. When people behave as we predict, our views seem confirmed. When the opposite occurs, it’s time to revise our views, although the frequency with which this happens remains unknown.
The preceding points might suggest that it’s a waste of time to try and clarify what happens in our own brain and in the brains of others. This is not the approach adopted here. Some properties of the brain are known and documented. Others can be inferred with reasonable certainty.
This chapter focuses on three postulated brain systems: (1) Theory of mind, which deals with how individuals surmise the brain states of themselves and others, (2) mirroring, which explains the effects of other’s behavior on the brains of observers, and (3) attribution, which involves assigning attributes to oneself and to others and explaining behavior, natural events, and physical systems.
Again, I offer some words of caution. With the exception of mirroring, which has a scientific basis, Theory of mind and attributing are concepts that are difficult to discretely separate let alone precisely measure. They often seem to blend together, which may be due to the sharing of parts of a common operational anatomy in the brain.2 But we do experience moments of awareness that can be interpreted as a result of these systems. It is these moments that I will use as points of departure.
But first, some comments about computations.
COMPUTATIONS
The two preceding chapters contained discussions of the brain’s computational requirements—essentially, the number of bits of information that need to be processed per unit of time—for early modern humans living in small hunter-gatherer groups approximately two hundred thousand years ago.3 Many of the systems that affect these requirements have been mentioned, such as language and the access, storing, and manipulation of information.
In chapter 12, it was noted that some scholars have suggested that the upswing in sociocultural and inventive complexity, which occurred approximately forty-five thousand years ago, was the result of an increase in computational capacities. As this interpretation goes, our ancestors became brighter and their computational capacities increased. This may have happened. It’s a plausible hypothesis.
There are alternative possibilities however. For example the refinement of already-requisite systems, not an increase in computational capacities, might explain the upswing. Armed with an ever-enlarging number of reliable tool kits dealing with social interactions and for mastering the animal and physical environments, the brain is likely to have improved its efficiency. Already-present computational capacities may have been sufficient for this improvement. Hence the possibility of increased creative complexity without an increase in intelligence or energy costs to the brain. Theory of mind, mirroring, and attribution possibly fit this scenario.
THEORY OF MIND
A discussion with a student.
Author: “And what makes you think that Professor Q doesn’t like your doctoral thesis?”
Student: “He hasn’t said that exactly. But I sense it. There are indications. He talks with other students more than with me. Most of them are working on topics he likes. I’m not.”
Author: “Let’s be more specific.”
Student: “He has published books on how people—wealthy people—in the South exploited the slaves. That’s what he believes. He is right, but it isn’t the
whole story. My thesis is about the other side of the story.”
Author: “And the other side of the story is?”
Student: “It’s about how many Southern families provided the slaves with a safe place to live, work, and to develop their own interests. That happened too. Many became members of the families. They raised the family’s children. They gave advice about how to run the plantations and the advice was followed.”
Author: “OK, but how does it follow that he doesn’t like your thesis?”
Student: “He never says whether he thinks I’m right or wrong, as he does with other students. He just says things like, ‘Are you convinced about your sources or have you looked at other explanations?’ We seem to get nowhere.”
Author: “Are you afraid that he might reject your thesis?”
Student: “It’s a serious concern. That’s why I came to talk with you.”
Theory of mind refers to the capacity to surmise mind states. “Mind reading” is the usual term when we surmise the mind states of others. “Self-reflection” is the usual term when we focus on ourselves. The capacity to mind read is thought to be mostly innate and subject to refinement. Forty percent of adults are reported to believe they can read the minds of other people.4
Given the monistic view of the brain adopted here and the many often contradictory uses of the word mind, the time is ripe for a change in terminology: Theory of brain, rather than Theory of mind, and brain reading, rather than mind reading, will be used from here on.
Descriptively, what is involved is simple in principle and familiar in practice: one tries to put oneself in the shoes of others. One listens to what others say and observes their behaviors. Direct and indirect evidence is assimilated. Memories are created. Gradually representations of the brain states of others are developed and may be experienced in awareness.5 Representations may change with new information or a change in context. Similar events occur during self-reflection.
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