By Stuart Carter
Stuart studied earth sciences at University College London and the University of Oxford, and was awarded a NATO fellowship for planetary research at Columbia University in New York. He has produced, written, and directed science and education programmes for the BBC, Channel 4, ITV, Five (Channel 5), the Discovery Channel, National Geographic, PBS (Public Broadcasting Service in the US), the Science Channel, TLC (The Learning Channel), History, Weather Channel and many more.
“Next time you're binge-watching Netflix, wallowing in the story and emotions of the drama while trying choose between your chocolate or crisps, revel in the fact that your conscious mind is the product of hundreds of millions of years of mutation, natural selection, and the beautifully imperfect DNA within your cells.”
The phenomenal complexity of augmented reality
I'm driving down the road towards Henley. I glimpse the River Thames on my left and notice that it has almost burst its banks. If it floods, will they close this road? What would then be the best route into Henley? I recall how, twenty years ago, the water rose another ten feet, and I begin to picture what the riverside houses looked like when they were submerged. I glance down at my fuel gauge and do a quick mental calculation of when and where I should get diesel. At the same time, I’m going over a list of groceries I need to buy at the supermarket. All the while, I’m guiding the car, ensuring I don’t crash into the vehicle in front, obeying traffic signals, and staying aware of my surroundings. All these thoughts are happening inside my brain, inside my “mind”. I am experiencing a biological version of augmented reality – seeing the world around me, analysing it through my memory and knowledge, thinking about the past and future, and evaluating the potential dangers around me.
I glance at my dog in the back seat. His beady eyes glare back at me. He, too, is a conscious being, but without language. It’s hard to know if he contemplates the past or future as I do. (His memory is phenomenal – he recognises hundreds of faces and greets familiar people like long-lost friends but always stands back from strangers.)
Can we define exactly what consciousness is, both animal and human?
The challenge in understanding where my dog’s and my own consciousness came from lies, first, in defining exactly what consciousness is. Most of us agree that animals are “aware” – they must be to survive. But how much “self-awareness” do they have? Self-awareness is a higher level of consciousness, allowing us to reflect on our existence, solve problems, and recognise that our minds are separate from others. My dog is self-aware, but to a lesser degree than humans. What I possess that he does not is “intentionality” – the ability to direct my thoughts towards controlling emotions, solving problems, and understanding the world in a complex way.
Are animals conscious and, if so, when did that consciousness begin? Many animals are aware of their own existence, but not all possess the same degree of consciousness. The differences between species in terms of their ability to experience the world are a matter of degree rather than kind. One of the greatest experiments on self-awareness is the Mirror Self-Recognition (MSR) test, first conducted on chimpanzees and monkeys. After becoming accustomed to mirrors, their faces were marked with harmless paint. Monkeys, upon seeing their reflections, showed the same lack of interest as before. However, chimpanzees recognised themselves, touching the marks they saw in the mirrors and examining their fingers. Similar experiments confirmed that bonobos and orangutans displayed the same self-awareness as chimpanzees. Experiments with gorillas, however, were less conclusive. Having observed them in the wild in Rwanda, I am not surprised; they exist in a highly insular world, totally uninterested in you even when making eye contact. The MSR experiment confirms that the Great Apes are highly self-aware while monkeys, though conscious, do not exhibit the same level of self-recognition. Further research has demonstrated that dolphins and elephants also recognise their own images in mirrors.
“The evolutionary split in brain types between mammals, reptiles and birds occurred as far back as 300 million years ago.”
How, when and why did consciousness arise?
So, how did consciousness arise within me, within the human race, or within any species at all? When and why did consciousness begin, and what advantages does it provide? For answers we must turn to evolution and search for its origins buried deep in the annals of time. As far as we can tell, consciousness emerged hundreds of millions of years ago in early vertebrates and their descendants such as reptiles, but observations of modern reptiles suggest they have only a very limited consciousness. Based on this, one might assume that complex consciousness started only when our mammalian ancestors evolved beyond reptiles with their predominantly subcortical brains (structures beneath the cerebral cortex that are responsible for basic survival functions, emotions, memory, and automatic body regulation). Paleontological findings indicate, however, that the evolutionary split in brain types between mammals, reptiles, and birds occurred as far back as 300 million years ago. And there is some evidence that suggests that primitive forms of consciousness may have existed in jawless Lamprey fish – one of the earliest vertebrates and one of the first to have eyes – around 500 million years ago. In other words, some basic form of consciousness may have existed as far back as the Cambrian Explosion (a period of rapid evolutionary diversification which took place more than 500 million years ago).
Snakes and mammals compared
For example, let’s consider the snake. It has a small head with a tiny brain, containing everything it needs to survive. It does not need to think in the way mammals do. It can calculate speed and distance, but that is the extent of its cognitive abilities. Its brain is hardwired to react to stimuli – heat, light, sound, and movement – without problem-solving capabilities. It has evolved to survive within specific environmental parameters, and if it strays beyond these, it will perish. It is aware and can make some choices. Mammals, on the other hand, possess far greater cognitive complexity. They can think about what lies beyond a mountain, how to avoid danger and even strategise to steal a rival’s mate. If they were hardwired for every possible scenario, their brains and therefore their heads would be far too large. Instead, the evolution of consciousness allowed for more efficient problem-solving, imagination and prediction of hazards, making the brain far more effective for its size compared to that of reptiles. The reality is that the self-aware, conscious brain in humans and animals emerged through natural selection. Darwin recognised this, though his era lacked our modern understanding of brain function and DNA.
Intelligent Design?
Some may argue that consciousness is part of an Intelligent Design, a sophisticated form of creationism. However, DNA itself challenges this notion. The sequencing of human and animal genomes reveals that our genetic code is far from perfect. It is filled with redundancies, dead ends, and evolutionary scars left by myriads of mutations and natural selection. Approximately 50 per cent of our genome consists of repetitive sequences, with much of it redundant and non-functional. Scientific research over the past century – especially in recent decades – has demonstrated that the human genome and the metabolic processes it controls are riddled with structural inefficiencies.
It contains over 20,000 protein-coding genes, which make up less than 2 per cent of our total DNA. While much of the remaining 98 per cent was once considered “junk”, research suggests that some of it plays, or has played, key roles in gene regulation, genome structure, and evolution. Our genetic imperfections do, however, provide a significant challenge to the concept of Intelligent Design.
Chocolate or crisps?
So next time you're binge-watching Netflix, wallowing in the story and emotions of the drama while trying choose between your chocolate or crisps, revel in the fact that your conscious mind is the product of hundreds of millions of years of mutation, natural selection, and the beautifully imperfect DNA within your cells.
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