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In this post I would like to suggest one way to argue that aesthetic experience is relevant to the philosophy of consciousness–more specifically, to what philosophers of mind call “phenomenal consciousness.”

For the person undergoing them, various mental states, especially sensory states, have a distinctive quality–they are “like” something (see Nagel 1974). This subjective quality is at the very center of the philosophy and science of consciousness; it is the explanandum of what David Chalmers calls “the hard problem of consciousness” (see Chalmers 1997).

…we can say that a mental state is conscious if it has a qualitative feel–an associated quality of experience. These qualitative feels are also known as phenomenal qualities, or qualia for short. The problem of explaining these phenomenal qualities is just the problem of explaining consciousness (Chalmers 1996, 4).

Ned Block and Chalmers both mark-off this “phenomenal consciousness,” which is qualitative, from other meanings of the word “consciousness,” such as being awake, having non-qualitative access to perceptions and thoughts, etc. (see Block 2002). Ultimately, a solution to “the hard problem of consciousness” must offer an explanation of how it is that this subjective quality arises from gray matter. But what is required in advance of any such theory is an accurate phenomenological specification of this subjective quality itself; i.e., we need to draw a bead on the subjective quality of experience before we can employ it usefully as an explanandum.

To clarify phenomenal consciousness phenomenologically would be to show what is different (in experience) between experiences that have a subjective quality and those that do not. In doing so, we should require that this clarification amount to more than simply the statement that phenomenally conscious mental states are “like” something, that they have a subjective quality. But typically, phenomenal consciousness is defined in just this simple way. In fleshing this out, philosophers of mind typically rely upon the reader’s imaginative grasp of simple subjective qualities, such as “what it is like” to see red or feel pain. I believe that focusing upon such basic experiences is what leaves the door ajar for phenomenologically deflationary views of phenomenal consciousness to make their entrance. As phenomenal consciousness is typically invoked, there is no phenomenological leverage by means of which to show why deflationary accounts of phenomenal consciousness are deflationary.

The kind of deflationary view I have in mind goes like this: the subjective quality of experience is merely the appearing of the secondary quality (the perceiving of red, an A-sharp, or an E guitar string’s sound), rather than a qualitative property (felt property) of that appearing–this latter is Block’s manner of construing qualia (see Block 1996).

It is surprising that relying upon simple experiences is accepted even by non-deflationists. Chalmers, for example, who seems to aim at a rich notion of subjective quality, seems satisfied considering very basic experiences:

In addressing the philosophical mysteries associated with conscious experience, a simple color sensation raises the problems as deeply as one’s experience of a Bach Chorale” (Chalmers 1996, 11).

Why, more specifically now, is it problematic to operate with a notion of phenomenal consciousness shaped by such basic examples? The reason is that one of these examples can be construed both in a deflationary and a non-deflationary way. A given secondary quality (the perception of red, etc.) can be experienced in more than one way; (to simplify for this post) one way of perceiving a secondary quality involves phenomenal consciousness, another does not. This second way is just the mere perception of a secondary quality. That these two ways of experiencing secondary qualities exist is just what examinations of aesthetic experiences can show, because some aesthetic properties only arise when certain secondary qualities operate qualitatively in experience. An example of such an aesthetic property is groove (see my “Groove; Qualia and Musical Nunaces“); an example of a perceptual role that can only be inhabited by qualia (i.e., and not mental content) is a background feature (see my “Mental Paint in the Background“).

Philosophers who disagree with (say) Chalmers or Frank Jackson (see his 1982) about the richness of a perception of red imagine (I believe) the simple examples unsympathetically, as not experienced in the way Chalmers or Jackson intend (we might say that they imagine a mere or austere perceptual appearing of red); philosophers who agree with Chalmers or Jackson, on the other hand, imagine the perception of red, sympathetically, in the way Chalmers intends, where the subjective quality of red is the felt property of the appearing of the secondary quality. From the perspective of Block’s notion of qualia (setting aside qualia’s intrinsicness here), I mean to claim that one can imagine a perception of red with or without the felt quality of the secondary quality’s appearing. And this “quality of the secondary quality” is what we need to lay our hands on phenomenologically; this is phenomenal consciousness.

As long as the dialogue is limited to simple perceptual experiences, ones that can be interpreted in either way, there is no leverage by means of which to point to phenomenal consciousness. The way to win this leverage is to specify the various ways that felt qualities operate in experience. Aesthetic experience delivers to us fruitful means of specifying these ways in which a felt quality, phenomenal consciousness, operates in experience.

I will go into specifics in future posts, but here, I want instead to attempt to block two objections to this general approach of arguing for the relevance of aesthetic experience in an examination of phenomenal consciousness.

An obvious way to pre-empt this move to aesthetic experience is to assert that the extra qualitative richness found in aesthetic perceptions should be explained by aesthetics, via aesthetic principles, and not by philosophy of mind via accounts of phenomenal consciousness. This is superficially true but misses my point, which is transcendental: given that certain rich, aesthetic, perceptual qualities exist, then there are certain requirements that an account of phenomenal consciousness must meet. The specification of phenomenal consciousness that a philosopher of mind settles upon, in other words, had better be able to accommodate the conscious experience of art.

Another possible pre-emption: one might claim that considering basic perceptual experiences, such as perceptions of red apples, gives us the subjective quality “atoms,” as it were, and it is the business of aesthetics to discover how these “atoms” combine to generate the richer sort of subjective qualities we find in aesthetic experience. This pre-emption fails, I believe, because, in describing aesthetic properties, we must grasp the roles played by various subjective qualities, and in some of these roles, subjective qualities do indeterminate work; in other words, certain aesthetic properties are only properly describable if we take certain components to be indeterminate, and this means that an atomistic parsing of the constituents of aesthetic properties often lead to a misdescription. (Regarding my construal of indeterminacy, see my post “Indeterminacy and Fine-Grained Perception.”)

Bibliography

Block, Ned (2002) “Concepts of Consciousness.” In Philosophy of Mind; Classical and Contemporary Readings, edited by David J. Chalmers, 206-18: Oxford University Press.

Block, Ned (1996) “Qualia.” In A Companion to the Philosophy of Mind, edited by Samuel Guttenplan, 514-20: Blackwell.

Chalmers, David J. (1996) The Conscious Mind: Oxford University Press.

Chalmers, David J. (1997) “Facing up to the Problem of Consciousness.” In Explaining Consciousness, edited by Jonathan Shear, 10-30: MIT Press.

Jackson, Frank (1982) “Epiphenomenal Qualia.” Philosophical Quarterly 32, no. 127: 127-36.

Nagel, Thomas (1974) “What Is It Like to Be a Bat?” Philosophical Review, no. 83: 435-50.

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I read with interest Peter Goldie’s articleabout deception and conceptual art on the BSA website today. (To read click on text). Although the paper is certainly interesting and thought-provoking, in this post I will discuss what I think is wrong with some of Goldie’s claims (I am not going to consider the claims he makes relating to deception in social psychology). In the article, Goldie uses two examples of conceptual art, Space Closed by Corrugated Metal by Santiago Sierra and Going Places by Leeds 13 (for details of the works see Goldie’s article). Goldie claims that the deception involved in an artwork can increase its aesthetic merit even though it is an ethical demerit. In my opinion, although it is clear that deception was involved in the production of both the artworks mentioned, Goldie has given the deceptive element way too much priority over the central content and aim of the works which is ‘provocation’. To discover that one has been deceived is ultimately to be provoked in some way. One can either get annoyed, angry or sad at the deception, if it is serious or harmful, or laugh at it, if it is genuinely funny. However, for a lot of people many of the provocations offered by conceptual art, as with many April Fool’s jokes, are horrifically unfunny and a bit of a bore. As with the bad joke, one often feels forced to laugh in these situations because one doesn’t want to be seen as ‘not in the know’ or lacking a sense of humour.

Since Duchamp’s urinal it has been quite obvious that the aim of a lot of conceptual art is not to ‘deceive’ (deception is not a central part of the ‘content’ of the work) but to ‘provoke’ (emotions, ideas thoughts etc.). Deception has sometimes been used as a tool with which to provoke. Surely then it is the ‘provocation’ of the artwork (not the ‘deception’) that may increase its aesthetic merit, although how much aesthetic merit/cognitive value there is in being provoked is another matter. For example, I might decide to do something that will provoke a pompous and self-important member of staff in my department in order to expose the intellectual vanity and egomania present in academia. My fellow students (and perhaps even other faculty members) might find this amusing if done cleverly and with wit but I doubt very much that my act would have aesthetic merit. If I chose to record the act in some way and present it as a work of art people may then desire to see some aesthetic merit in it even if there were none there. I (and others) might then have a laugh about this search for aesthetic merit or claim that the point of the work is to hold a mirror up to these aesthetic pretensions.

However, I think the main problem with these two examples of conceptual art (as well as other pieces) - is that although they may indeed provoke strong reactions, how, if at all, do they differ in value from well-executed practical jokes? In the Sierra work - Yes it is amusing to see self-congratulatory members of the art world turn up to an expensive new gallery expecting canapes and champagne only to discover that its all boarded up (tee hee). Likewise, I think it is amusing and provocative for the Leeds 13 students to get external funding for their ‘art project’ and use it in the way they did. Both works are out to provoke and possibly to have jokes at someone else’s expense. I disagree with Goldie’s swift dismissal of the Leeds project, Going Places, as lacking merit as compared to the Sierra work though. A critic and layperson could easily argue that the cognitive value (or aesthetic merit) of the piece was the way in which the students showed how easy it is to get funding for projects which lack merit, vision or genuine talent, under the auspices of ‘art’ or other intellectual pretensions, if one has the right methods or contacts at one’s disposal. Its a funny and direct way of making this important point. Another point the work seems to make (via the hilarious exhibition of drinking sangria, listening to music and pretending to go on holiday) is the fact that a lot of funding is frittered away and wasted on undeserving projects. I’m sure we can all think of lacklustre or worthless projects in the arts and humanities that have been generously funded to the incredulity of many. A further point to Going Places may be to demonstrate that the way people get external funding or financial sponsorship often implicitly involves some form of mild deception. Deception about the merits and originality of the project, the talent of the people involved etc. Although this kind of deception is not necessarily unethical or completely dishonest it is common practice and something we are all guilty of to greater or lesser degrees. For example, who has never felt personally that they slightly overexaggerated their merits/talents to try and get a job? Or alternatively, knew they weren’t the best person for a job and yet got it through knowing or sucking up to the right people? (Personally, I do object to the second kind of deception but I am all too aware that unfortunately it is quite common for people to operate this way). Anyone who has ever experienced art school and the success of fellow students without merit or talent (the artworld is not only very nepotistic but also littered with mediocre people who have rich patrons (i.e. wealthy parents) or benefactors (i.e. powerful contacts)) will certainly recognise the sentiment behind this work/event. The Leeds 13 work demonstrates these points perfectly and the students should be applauded for their courage and integrity in making such a statement.

Goldie’s failure to see the aesthetic merit of Going Places may be because he does not recognise the points being made by the artwork, or he does not think they are valid points or (as seems more likely from the article) he ethically objects to the fact that financial sponsors were deceived. Whatever the reason Goldie’s view of the work surely says more about his priorities/ethics than about it being a worse artwork than the Sierra. Furthermore, I do not see why the financial sponsors (who would be considered members of the ‘artworld’) would not have the capacity to aesthetically appreciate the points the project was making. Goldie suggests that the sponsors would have just felt ‘duped’ or ‘misled’ and thus resentful. However, this realisation that they have been ‘duped’, if indeed they all did feel that way, should not necessarily lead them to feel resentment. They themselves may (or should) appreciate the point of the work at a deeper level than others and although it may show something about their environment and working practices that is not particularly flattering it may nonetheless be something they can appreciate without resentment. In my view, then Goldie’s claim about the Leeds 13 work (if one is using the same standards applied to the Sierra work) is grounded on his own personal sensibility and preference rather than on ‘aesthetic merit’.

To summarise, both artworks (on paper at least) share one common feature which is the aim to provoke and possibly to have a joke at someone else’s expense. Although this may be a merit of the works surely we also have to ask what is valuable about a clever joke or provocation at someone else’s expense. If both these artworks are structurally no different from an April Fool’s joke, as Goldie appears to suggest, then although both types of activity can be extremely funny it is not at all clear why we would value this kind of art anymore than a clever stylish joke. Alternatively, if it turns out that most conceptual art is no more than an elitist joke or provocation then so be it. As we are all too aware though, the problem with jokes, when told too many times or when not that funny in the first place, is that they have a tendency to grate and bore. Likewise with provocation. Provocation is an important element in culture and is essential for change and development. Provocation with substance can be powerful and unsettling. Some people still find listening to The Sex Pistols’ ‘God Save The Queen’ and ‘Anarchy in the UK’ offensive, and for many the songs are still as powerful and relevant today. However, other kinds of provocation (what I term ‘provocation for provocation’s sake’) akin to the teenager who enjoys shocking her parents by dyeing her hair green etc are viewed by most adults (with patronising fondness) as not only transparent and pointless but also juvenile. A fate that many people feel has happened to how we we view most conceptual art. As the former chairman of the Institute of Contemporary Arts in London, Ivan Massow, eloquently put it two years ago: (most conceptual art is) “pretentious, self-indulgent, craftless tat…in danger of disappearing up its own arse.” A statement which is both provocative and quite funny. But is it art though?

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