Barrington Bayley SF Gateway Omnibus: The Soul of the Robot, The Knights of the Limits, The Fall of Chronopolis

‘Indeed, and what is that?’ Jasperodus asked, interested despite himself. He spent a considerable amount of time in the company of Mark V, who was an intelligent construct, discussing matters of mutual interest – particularly the subject which obsessed Jasperodus. There was even a chance, he thought, of hearing something original from the Mark V brain.

‘You raised the question of the putative quality called “consciousness”,’ Mark V began. ‘I have resolved the matter in the following way. All descriptions of “consciousness” follow more or less this pattern: a machine may be aware of an incoming sensory impression, meaning that the impression is received, analysed, recognised, related to other impressions, acted on and stored. A human being also does all this, but in addition to being merely aware he is said to be aware of being aware, and this awareness of awareness is claimed to constitute consciousness. Now what does this mean? Is it that the whole process of perception, integration and action is then lumped together and again presented to the mind as a new impression, the second time round as it were? If so, what would be the point of such an operation? It would add nothing that was not there before. Besides – I have studied neural anatomy – the human brain makes no provision for such an arrangement so far as I know. Therefore I deduce that the effect must be on a smaller scale – if it exists at all. I surmise that “awareness of awareness” is merely some kind of limiting circuit or delay line, accidentally inserted by evolution and responsible for the notorious tardiness of human thought. As such it serves no useful function and is certainly not necessary for advanced intellectual mentation. For that reason, no doubt, the great robot designers omitted it from their plans.’

‘I had received the strong impression that consciousness is an important and elevated state that we robots cannot attain,’ Jasperodus replied.

Mark V gave an amused laugh. ‘Quite untrue, and the idea is unsupported by observation. Note that clod making his way on the other side of the street.’ He pointed to a stooped, badly dressed figure who plodded along wearing a vacant expression. ‘Is he in any elevated mental state? Clearly not. He spends his time in daydreams; he has not learned the skill of consecutive thought, he cannot even ponder on his impressions, as we do. Would you even go so far as to say, then, that he is “aware of being aware”? I would not! Perhaps he would conduct himself with more dignity if he were! He is our mental inferior, Jasperodus, not our superior, and he is typical of the vast mass of his kind.’

‘You mention that you have studied brain anatomy,’ Jasperodus said. ‘What does the human brain possess that ours do not?’

‘Very little,’ answered Mark V. ‘That is why I say this “consciousness” is a triviality, or else nonexistent.’

Jasperodus thought over Mark V’s words. ‘Your arguments are not new,’ he said eventually. ‘I have heard something like them before.’

As a matter of fact he also had hit upon a theorem recently that seemed to imply that consciousness – by which he meant the element of conscious experience he imagined he possessed – was a figment in men as well as in himself.

The theorem made use of the notion of time. Philosophers were all agreed that the past did not vanish from existence but persisted in some way; perhaps not in the same condition as the present, but nevertheless in accordance with the principle that the universe did not uncreate its products once it had created them, which was what a vanishing past would require.

What, then, of past consciousness? Did that also persist? Was a man conscious in the past as well as in the present? If so, then by Jasperodus’ reasoning he would continue to perceive the past simultaneously with the present, and there would be no differentiation between past, present and future. If not, then it became necessary to introduce another factor: the factor of death. At death consciousness was extinguished like a candle flame. What then of the past life it had illumined? Was that past life dead and inert … robotic? And if consciousness was expunged once it had run its course, what then of the tenet that the universe did not discard its creations, consciousness being one of those creations?

Either alternative was untenable. By this reductio ad absurdum Jasperodus was able to argue that man did not, after all, possess consciousness; then there was no paradox.

But of course this conclusion was hedged about with provisos. He had no guarantee that what he understood by the word ‘consciousness’ corresponded to what it was in reality. Also there was another way, just as simple, out of the dilemma: that the philosophers were wrong and the past did vanish.