Conscious thoughts
There are many philosophical questions that need to be explored in any discussion of consciousness (18 May, p 30). Is consciousness another basic force of the universe beyond the traditional four, or did it arise from them? If so, how?
Is it a cause or an effect of life’s evolution? If a cause, it must have existed before evolvable life. If it is an effect, it must have arisen from life. At what point did consciousness burst into this previously zombie life? Where was it before life?
The question of whether consciousness exists without life is a metaphysical one, not subject to scientific analysis, and the answer is probably unknowable.
The articles are mired by the same fundamental problem: what is consciousness and how does it arise? Throughout, we find the idea that somehow consciousness “emerges” from the complexity of the brain. This approach is doomed as consciousness by its very nature is not physical.
Even if we could map the positions and connections of every single neuron and describe the detailed chemical flows across every synapse, we would be no nearer to understanding the mind (consciousness). What we need is a paradigm shift away from the limitations of current materialistic physics so we can courageously examine the idea that consciousness is not magically generated by the brain. Rather consciousness can be taken as the “ground stuff” of the universe from which brains emerge, not the other way round.
If you consider the similarities and differences between a human and mosquito mind, you notice that they both process sensory information, arrive at decisions, and execute motor responses. Yet, I would say, a mosquito does not need consciousness.
Consciousness is, in my opinion, awareness of one’s own thought processes. It is as if there is an extra sensory modality whose input is from brain activity: that is, you are aware of what you are thinking (or seeing, or doing), probably in rather a broad-brush fashion. A mosquito, with its automatic behaviour, is better off without this set-up, since brain tissue is costly in material and energy terms.
Bee debate
The discussion on the banning of neonicotinoid insecticides made clear they are used systemically, starting as a seed dressing which then spreads throughout growing plants (11 May, p 26). As such, just as bees have been taking them in via nectar and pollen, surely we could be ingesting them in the seeds, leaves and fruits we eat.
Has there been adequate research to show that these chemicals are safe for us? I have to say I am heartily glad about the current ban, hope it continues and wish for better research on insecticides for future use.
Appetite for life
David Holdsworth’s contention that, because all life on Earth is descended from just one cell, its initial emergence must be very improbable, does not follow (18 May, p 28).
Life might have got started thousands of times in thousands of ways. All that was needed for everything now to be descended from just one cell was for that cell to have been the first to evolve the ability to eat the others.
Physics lesson
For those questioning the value of particle physics projects such as the Large Hadron Collider (20 April, p 32), the LHC offers one key lesson if our masters are willing to learn it: how to manage a vast and complex project.
It required the building of a deep tunnel forming a loop with a circumference of 30 kilometres, packed with unique equipment designed to the limit of current knowledge and engineering capability, staffed by some of the most qualified people on the planet. It was ready almost on time for a cost of about 拢5 billion.
For an equivalent sum in the UK we would have got just half of the 2012 Olympics, a fraction of the planned cross-London rail link Crossrail, or a small chunk of the High Speed 2 rail link from London to Birmingham.
Human pest
As we live through the sixth great extinction, you ask “should we be focusing more of our efforts on saving entire ecosystems?” (18 May, p 6). Perhaps, but that still won’t save us. We are the most selfish and destructive pest on the planet, and determined to indulge our short-term hedonism.
Atomic ambitions
I was overjoyed to see you giving Jochen Flasbarth space to dismantle the pro-nuclear fission claims (18 May, p 24) and noticed that he did not answer his own question as to why governments keep building fission reactors.
One answer, of course, is that they provide the means to make nuclear weapons for some.
Fusion and renewables have always made the most sense.
007 universe
Feedback doubts that James Bond could have survived so many bullets coming his way with all of them apparently missing their target (18 May). There is an explanation, of course: those interpretations of quantum physics that propose a multiverse with every possible outcome happening somewhere.
We just happen to live in a universe where Bond never gets hit. This suggests a test for the multiverse interpretation: Bond could put one bullet in a revolver, spin the barrel and fire at his head, and then repeat.
If there is a multiverse, there will always be one universe in which he does not kill himself and will be able to report that he has tried this hundreds of times with no ill effect.
Robot revolution
So Ikea-bots build coffee tables (4 May, p 24) but what builds the Ikea-bot? And if the Ikea-bot comes pre-assembled, why not the coffee table? Beware 鈥� once the bots self-assemble, the robot takeover is round the corner.
Experts required
Guy Dugdale writes correctly about some of the issues facing Wikipedia articles on scientific topics. He identifies one article in particular 鈥� on the weak nuclear force 鈥� as incomprehensible to the lay reader (11 May, p 30).
I agree, but not without comment, for I wrote much of that particular article. I studied physics only to the age of 18, and my level of understanding (my status as a “layperson”) greatly limited the article’s ability to explain difficult concepts to the reader.
Complexity is not always the product of over-expertise. I would encourage your readers to get involved, lest the world’s most popular reference source remain dependent on the enthusiastic hobbyist.
A painful solution
Has anyone thought of trying itching powder as a defence against the Active Denial pain ray weapon (11 May, p 44)? Apparently, “noxious heat” applied to an itching area will suppress the itch for an extended period, mediated by a nerve-level interaction between the ultra-slow itch nerves and the fast thermal nociceptor nerves.
When I have a persistent itch, I find that briefly showering the spot with painfully hot water before immediately switching to cold will suppress the itch for about half an hour, as well as helping remove whatever irritant caused the itch in the first place. This also gives the same reward sensation as does scratching the itch, presumably via the dopamine system.
When I do this, I notice that the reflex pain response to heat is suppressed to some extent. So I am wondering if a pre-existing itch would offer an opiate-like suppression of the pain induced by Active Denial, although I accept that dousing yourself in itching powder might well impair your normal functioning.
鈥� For all those contemplating such ideas, the developers of the pain ray have been explicit that no form of improvised protection is effective, including wet clothing (25 May, p 30). Also, the developers have indicated that those using obvious countermeasures could simply be targeted with other types of weapons.
Methane threat
The possible localised sea level fall in the vicinity of the melting Greenland and Antarctic ice sheets has an interesting implication (4 May, p 36). The article says that sea level may fall dramatically in those regions, while rising elsewhere.
Both marine environments are very rich in biological activity, so it would be reasonable to assume clathrates 鈥� icy lattices which trap methane 鈥� have been accumulating on the seabed below about 200 metres. If sea level does indeed drop as described, presumably the upper few metres of clathrate will release its methane.
Live long
Your combined review of the books Extremes and The Posthuman (11 May, p 48) stated: “Imagine if you were alive 150 years ago… Life expectancy then was a mere 40 years on average, with a few lucky individuals making it to 75 or more.”
This leaves the impression that bumping into a 45-year-old around the mid-1800s would have been noteworthy.
In reality, for those people in the UK who survived the first 10 years of life, the modal, or most frequent, age at death in 1841 was around 71 for men and 77 for women 鈥� only about 15 years less than it is now.
In fact, life expectancy for humans hasn’t really changed for millennia. Even in ancient times, if you made it past childhood, you had a good chance of living into your 70s and beyond. Plato lived to be 80 and Archimedes was assassinated at 75.
For the record
鈥� In our review of three new nature books (25 May, p 48), we should have referred to Gilbert White’s 18th-century text as The Natural History of Selborne, not Selbourne.