Computers and Thoughts

Computers and Thoughts

For decades mankind has been privileged to witness its ascension to levels of civility and progress far above any thing we have yet seen. Medicine is far more advanced than any record we have of previous civilizations, and with concerted world-wide economic plans, this advancement is proliferating in as many places as possible. But not only is medicine advanced, so is the technology it employs - thinking machines, super-computers, lasers, all manner of gadgets probably not foreseen by the most eccentric of dreamers and visionaries just a few generations ago. But the rise of these advancements in technology have not quelled the queries of man's querulous qualities, along with identity comes a corollary questioning the degree to which we impart our humanity into that which we create. Do paintings really 'make statements'? Or do they just exhibit qualities the painter painted into it? Or works of literature, for example, can they be said to 'inspire' or 'make' its readers to question? While the answer to these questions may be obvious, paintings and literature often affect us very personally even though they may seem very far removed indeed from personhood. More specifically, have we imparted the ability to think, to the technology that we have created? Can Computers think? I do not think so, as I hope to show, but these are the issues I intend to address and hope to bring answers to at least some degree.

It is evident, that necessary to a determination of whether or not computers are capable, in principle, of thinking is some kind of agreement upon a definition for thought. This very proposition could be the reason so many different arguments exist and why so many papers have been written from so many varied stand-points concerning the subject, or more determinatively, this lack of a definition could be precisely the point of all those self-same papers, that through much of this previous work the philosophical community can come to some sort of an agreement upon what precisely it means to be able to think.

At this point it is appropriate to introduce the bifurcated manner in which I approach this question of defining the ability to think, for it seems evident that 'thought' needs to be clarified. Two definitions in particular are very different, yet both legitimate ways in which to define thought; to borrow terms commonly used in ethics that suit my purposes of providing a sense of their definition even though they may not be entirely accurate is deontological and teleological. The deontological approach defines thought as the mental process we experience - what it is like in your mind to feel pain or see a color, etc. The most common theories attributed to this definition are qualia and epiphenomenalism. And on the other hand the teleological approach basically states that thought is what it produces, our intelligent action and behavior, the outside effects which are observable; common theories that fall under this category are behaviorism and functionalism. By way of clearing the discussion of what will not be mentioned in the scope of this paper, I want to isolate an issue that could present a problem for my bifurcation but which I now wish to dispel. Speaking from a strictly existential point of view, and one which is entirely literal not referring to the paradigm interpreting the human condition, one could interpret even the process or the qualia experience of the deontological definition, as an end unto itself as well, and theoretically subsume the deontological definition into the teleological, but aside from that interpretation having intrinsic epistemological difficulties, I think it blurs two distinctions which are inherently different and worthy of recognizing each as such.

One of the primary advantages of the deontological definition is that it defines thought as precisely the process that it is, not that which it produces, which once understood, should bring us closer to what thought is, at least closer than by understanding what thoughts produce. One good illustration from this camp is about a girl named Mary that Jackson wrote about in "What Mary Didn't Know". Mary has been trained as a young girl in all the physical aspects of what it is like for us as people to experience color. She understands the chemical, biological, and the neurophysical aspects to a person seeing color, except there is one thing Mary has not yet seen herself, and that is color. She has been raised in a room entirely black and white and even trained through a monochromatic television, so that never in her life has she seen color. On the day when she is taken outside her room and shown the color red, will she gain any new knowledge? Jackson argues that she would, and I tend to agree. The first-hand experience of a color, which Mary has never seen before has to be some kind of new thought or new kind of knowledge. But according to a physicalist's perspective, one would have to say that she had acquired no new knowledge because physicalism states that the actual world is entirely physical to use Jackson's words (392). Of course this sounds ludicrous to deny that Mary has gained any new knowledge, and that is precisely why Jackson set up the scenario as he did, to illustrate that a physicalist definition of the world is not an accurate one, and the teleological definition of thought is definitely one that would follow from a physicalist paradigm.

Lewis responds to this notion of acquiring phenomenal information in "Knowing What It's Like" a postscript to "Mad pain and Martian Pain" by denying its existence. Lewis claims that Mary does not gain any knowledge for what she has acquired, but rather what she has acquired is more accurately ability. "Rather, knowing what it's like is the possession of abilities: abilities to recognize, abilities to imagine, abilities to predict one's behavior by means of imaginative experiments" (234). Unfortunately, this does not move his argument forward; it is only an extension of his already formed materialist views. From a functionalist's perspective experience will create an ability to imagine what it's like to do something, but this is because he is once again only looking at the physical side, this is merely consistent and makes no claim on whether Mary has actually gained new knowledge of the world from a qualia perspective. At best this argument is no more than semantic equation, for Mary has admittedly acquired something significant from the phenomenal perspective, and 'friends of qualia' are still consistent in their views if they claim she has gained new knowledge. Instead of establishing a reason for the qualia argument to accept the denial of Mary's acquisition of knowledge,

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