ENLIGHTENMENT THINKER.
Enlightenment thinker John Locke (1632–1704) held that the
human mind is a blank slate at birth, ready to be written over by sensory
experience. Over the centuries, this idea of information flowing 'outside in'
has lost much of its appeal, with experiments making it clear that perception
involves dozens of mechanisms, actively shaping stimuli rather than passively
receiving them.
In Deviate, neuroscientist Beau Lotto presents a complete
reversal of the Lockean stance. To him, it is the human mind that imposes
meaning on our perceptions: the true blank slate is the outside world. Even
more provocative is his argument that we operate with versions of reality that
have literally nothing to do with what is 'out there' in a physical sense. In
an entertaining series of analyses, demonstrations and reflections, he drives
home the point that perception, broadly taken, is not what our eyes and ears
tell us; it is what our brain makes us see and hear.
This is a radical philosophy of perception. It raises an
intriguing question about the evolutionary history of our perceptual apparatus.
If evolution is truly “the most rigorous, exhaustive research and development
and product-testing process on our planet”, as Lotto has it, then to survive at
all, surely our senses must have given our ancestors and us a trustworthy
representation of reality? Lotto's answer is an emphatic no: “We don't see
reality — we only see what was useful to see in the past.” Much like a London
Underground map, our perceptual brain doesn't offer an accurate spatial
representation; rather, it helps us to navigate in a safe and efficient way.
So, visual illusions — such as the Moon looking larger when
it is closer to the horizon — aren't really illusions if our perceptual apparatus
didn't evolve to see actual spatial relationships. Tellingly, machines devised
to recognize visual patterns are also susceptible to illusions when they are
programmed in a way that emulates the structure of the human brain.
Deviate is not your conventional handbook of perception. It
has little on the anatomy of the eye or mechanisms of hearing. The senses are
like the keyboard of a computer: they provide access, and the real job is done
elsewhere. Lotto points out that for each neural connection that projects
information from the eyes to the primary visual fields in the occipital lobes
at the back of the brain, there are ten connections back from the brain to the
eyes. Moreover, the neural networks that make sense of what we 'see' are fed by
a relatively small stream of information from the eyes. About 90% comes from
other parts of the brain, allowing us to recognize faces, identify danger or
read a sentence such as 'W at ar ou rea in ?' despite the omitted letters. That
you probably didn't read that as 'What are you dreaming?' is the result of
priming your attention to a context of reading. What enters the eye is often an
insignificant part of the story.
These networks provide the brain with flexibility and — in
cases of blindness or deafness — with compensation. Lotto mentions, for
instance, the late Ben Underwood, a blind US teenager who used echolocation,
clicking his tongue and using the echoes of the sound to navigate, and even to
cycle and play sports.
Lotto's idea that perception includes a multitude of
assumptions, built-in or learnt, allows him to take on board a range of
subjects not usually associated with the topic. For instance, confirmation bias
— noticing evidence that affirms one's world view, but disregarding
contradictory evidence — is conventionally taken to be a cognitive phenomenon.
Like hindsight bias, it contributes to preconceived ideas that keep us locked
into a narrow perspective on our personal and social reality. This is why the
book is called Deviate, and Lotto has inspiring things to say about discoveries
and acts of creativity resulting from 'deviant' ways of thinking.
Deciphering the Rosetta Stone is a case in point. Comparing
the stone's trilingual scripts in the nineteenth century, Jean-François
Champollion unlocked the code of Egyptian hieroglyphs by hypothesizing that
they were not symbolic characters representing concepts, but instead referred
to the phonetic sounds of a spoken language (A. Robinson Nature 483, 27–28;
2012).
With Lotto's pervasive organic process perspective comes
heaps of fight or flight, adapt or die, and escaping from predators. It leaves
the reader questioning whether or not there can be any perception — aesthetic
pleasures like taking note of music — not within the service of survival. At
times, keno looks to overdraw his case, for example once he writes that
Stravinsky reshaped “the cortex of culture” by composing the ballet The
ceremony of Spring.
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