The theory of mind

Identity theory

An early form of identity theory held that each type of mental state, such as pain, is identical with a certain type of physical state of the human brain or central nervous system. This encountered two main objections. First, it falsely implies that only human beings can have mental states. Second, it is inconsistent with the plausible intuition that it is possible for two human beings to be in the same mental state (such as the state of believing that the king of France is bald) and yet not be in the same neurophysiological state.

As a result of these and other objections, type-type identity theory was discarded in favour of what was called “token-token” identity theory. According to this view, particular instances or occurrences of mental states, such as the pain felt by a particular person at a particular time, are identical with particular physical states of the brain or central nervous system. Even this version of the theory, however, seemed to be inconsistent with the plausible intuition that felt sensation is not identical with neural activity.

Functionalism

The second major theory of the mind, functionalism, defines types of mental states in terms of their causal roles relative to sensory stimulation, other mental states, and physical states or behaviour. Pain, for example, might be defined as the type of neurophysiological state that is caused by things like cuts and burns and that causes mental states such as fear and “pain behaviour” such as saying “ouch.” Functionalism avoids the second objection against the type-type identity theory mentioned above—that it seems possible for two people to be in the same mental state but not in the same neurophysiological state—because it is not committed to the idea that the neurophysiological state that plays the causal role of pain must be the same in all people, or the same in people as in nonhuman creatures. This point was often expressed by saying that functional states exhibit “multiple realizability.”

Functionalism was inspired in part by the development of the computer, which was understood in terms of the distinction between hardware, or the physical machine, and software, or the function that the computer performs. It also was influenced by the earlier idea of a Turing machine, named after the English mathematician Alan Turing. A Turing machine is an abstract device that receives information as input and produces other information as output, the particular output depending on the input, the internal state of the machine, and a finite set of rules that associate input and machine-state with output. Turing defined intelligence functionally, in the sense that for him anything that possessed the ability to transform information from one form into another, as the Turing machine does, counted as intelligent to some degree. This understanding of intelligence was the basis of what came to be known as the Turing test, which proposed that, if a computer could answer questions posed by a remote human interrogator in such a way that the interrogator could not distinguish the computer’s answers from those of a human subject, then the computer could be said to be intelligent and to think. Following Turing, the philosopher Hilary Putnam held that the human brain is basically a sophisticated Turing machine, and his functionalism was accordingly called “Turing machine functionalism.” Turing machine functionalism became the basis of the later theory known as strong artificial intelligence (or strong AI), which asserts that the brain is a kind of computer and the mind a kind of computer program.

In the 1980s Searle mounted a challenge to strong AI. Searle’s objections were based on the observation that the operation of a computer program consists of the manipulation of certain symbols according to rules that refer only to the symbols’ formal or syntactic properties and not to their semantic ones. In his so-called “Chinese-room argument,” Searle attempted to show that there is more to thinking than this kind of rule-governed manipulation of symbols. The argument involves a situation in which a person who does not understand Chinese is locked in a room. He is handed written questions in Chinese, to which he must provide written Chinese answers. With the aid of a computer program or a rule book that matches questions in Chinese with appropriate Chinese answers, the person could simulate the behaviour of a person who understands Chinese. Thus, a Turing test would count such a person as understanding Chinese. But by hypothesis, he does not have that understanding. Hence, understanding Chinese does not consist merely in the ability to manipulate Chinese symbols. What the functionalist theory leaves out and cannot account for, according to Searle, are the semantic properties of the Chinese symbols, which are what the Chinese speaker understands. In a similar way, the Turing-functionalist definition of thinking as the manipulation of symbols according to syntactic rules is deficient because it leaves out the symbols’ semantic properties.

A more general objection to functionalism involves what is called the “inverted spectrum.” It is entirely conceivable, according to this objection, that two humans could possess inverted color spectra without knowing it. The two may use the word red, for example, in exactly the same way, and yet the color sensations they experience when they see red things may be different. Because the sensations of the two people play the same causal role for each, however, functionalism is committed to the claim that the sensations are the same. Counterexamples such as these demonstrated that similarity of function does not guarantee identity of subjective experience, and accordingly that functionalism fails as an analysis of mental content. Putnam eventually agreed with these and other criticisms, and in the 1990s he abandoned the view he had created.