The Revelations by Erik Hoel (some good books to read TXT) 📗

“Of which you are one. There are others. Some in other nations. But given all that, do you mind if I ask your opinion on some things? A freelance consultation, if you will. Based on the research proposal about brain-to-brain communication in primates you were going to do with Carmen and Atif. And now possibly with Alex.”

“How do you even know about that?”

The DARPA agent just smiles.

Kierk shrugs again. “Fine, shoot, if you’d like.”

“Take some set of independent systems and then continuously couple them. At what level of integration, of coupling, do they become complex enough to give rise to consciousness?”

Kierk laughs aloud at the specificity and peculiarity of the question but the agent doesn’t laugh back so Kierk clears his throat and answers—“Actually that’s completely unknown. But we do know it’s not just how integrated a system is, not just informational bandwidth. It has to be the right kind of coupling. Less information is going across the corpus callosum, that is, the bridge of nerves between the two hemispheres, than across a higher-powered modem. But we do know that some correct form of complex coupling breeds consciousness. How exactly that works, and what degree of coupling you need in order to get a conscious agent from nonconscious parts, is unknown.”

“My second question: can you make a larger conscious system out of independent conscious systems?”

“Ah, sure. Some might argue that the ant colony is conscious, not the ants. But for direct evidence look at our own brains and consider the two hemispheres, which are largely independent but coupled via the nerve fibers of the corpus callosum. You can do the Wada test, which I’ve seen done by the way, where one hemisphere is shut down with anesthesia but the other is not. It’s eerie. Spooky . . . I saw one test where the left was shut down and the right hemisphere remained. The right hemisphere couldn’t talk to me, only grunt and whistle and sing. The man was a construction worker who they were considering for brain surgery. Epilepsy. Didn’t talk much. Stoic, everyone said. But once the right hemisphere was alone and in control he seemed so happy, so alive, rhythmic . . . I played him music and the man, or rather, his right hemisphere, danced in the chair, waving his arms about. So within this man was this incredibly cheerful nymph-like child, humming to itself, inviting me to dance. And I watched as the anesthesia wore off and that childlike musician was subsumed as the other hemisphere gained consciousness and the man became a stoic construction worker once again. I asked him if he could remember it. He said no. See, a consciousness abhors other consciousnesses. It eats them. Subsumes them, I mean. There’s some law of the universe, some consequence of the nature of consciousness itself, which entails that a consciousness subsumes those that it is composed of. Like soap bubbles. Press two bubbles together and they merge into one. Pop a big bubble and you’ll get a bunch of smaller bubbles—but in what sense did they exist before the big bubble was popped?”

“You planned to do this with a network of monkeys. But let’s say then you have a network of humans instead. Or an entire civilization . . . our civilization, if you will. And you couple them more and more. What will happen if you project that into the future? Feel free to speculate wildly.”

Kierk’s eyebrows shoot up. He can’t help but show off in this type of conversation. “Isn’t it obvious by now? Human civilization, the biosphere, etcetera, becomes more and more coupled via technological advances and growing population. Like ants or cells learning to cooperate . . . Sure, we’re individuals in the early stages. But as the noosphere grows in concentration and integration, a phase transition takes place at some point. The first sign is actually the construction of cities. Eventually as a civilization becomes more concentrated, its tasks and workings more globally distributed, and its energy demands greater, it might later concentrate itself around a sun. Perhaps it builds a Dyson sphere, drawing tighter and tighter, coupling its individuals together more and more through interaction . . . It’s all merely the evolution of integration. Or the right kind of integration. Perhaps even its technology itself becomes conscious, integrates with the growing hive mind. Step-by-step it will undergo sub-Omega-Point integration ratchets until . . .” Kierk makes a gesture that indicates he can only guess.

“You’ve read Pierre Teilhard de Chardin then. I thought as much. A favorite of mine, personally,” the agent says, wiping at his forehead.

“Sure.”

“And you read a great deal of literature.”

“I suppose.”

“Do you think that’s why you’re good at this . . . line of work? I’ve always suspected that the central requirement for studying consciousness is to possess a radical form of empathy. To be able to understand what it is like to be another person: male, female, or a different orientation or age . . . But also what it is like to be a bat, or a network, or a city. Perhaps, as you indicate, even what it is like to be a post-biological group mind.”

The agent grins like he’s said something very funny.

“What do you care about any of this? DARPA, I mean.”

“Well, such post-biological group minds . . . Such hive-mind entities might be very different from us. With very different reasoning, motivations, and capabilities. Not like dealing with individual rational agents anymore. You have to throw out a lot of game-theoretic reasoning. In any . . . dealings, let’s say, with post-biological consciousnesses, we’ll need to know something about them, and of course, prepare ourselves, should they exist. We can reason with a civilization made up of individuals, but if we encountered say, artificial group minds the size of entire civilizations, well . . . First we’d need to know whether that’s possible, and, if it is possible, how to deal with such