LINK TO: Part 1
WARNING: This post is jargontastic. I’ve included lots of Wikipedia links, but it still may be difficult for readers unfamiliar with certain concepts or unaccustomed to my blather. If this is a greater challenge than you find enjoyable, then do skip it. I hope to return to these concepts in a more cumulative fashion, one day, when I explore cognitive science in its proper time period.
So … I watched part 2 of Becoming Human. It’s been a while since I watched it, and to be honest, I haven’t retained many of the details. But what I do remember is that it got me thinking about human intelligence. So here are some of my musings…
Individual organisms frequently use specific behaviors to benefit themselves and sometimes their families / communities / etc…. These behaviors can range from very simple to vastly complex. At what point do we start calling the behaviors “intelligent” and at what point does the intelligence become uniquely human (if ever)? I’ll start by trying to break down advantageous behaviors into levels of complexity. If I’m lucky, that may also suggest an evolutionary progression.
Starting with the simplest, we have unconditional behaviors. Consider the beating of a heart. This is an oversimplification, of course, because the beating of a heart is often modulated in fairly sophisticated ways, but it’s basically set up to keep on beating. The behavior is unconditional. It’s easy to imagine how natural selection could result in the prevalence of many such behaviors.
Now consider the euglena – a type of single-celled organism with a flagellum it uses for locomotion. It also has an eyespot that it uses to see how much sunlight it’s getting. If it’s getting plenty of sunlight for photosynthesis, it doesn’t bother wagging its flagellum. Why waste energy and risk propelling itself into shadow? But if it’s dark, what has it got to lose? It will die without a source of energy. I’ll call this a sensory-dependent behavior. The behavior always depends on what the organism is sensing right now. Lights go out: flagellum goes to town. It doesn’t have to be that simple, though. The behavior can be determined by many sensory inputs. In this way, sensory-dependent behavior is analogous to combinational logic circuitry in digital electronics.
To extend the electronics analogy to sequential logic, we progress to what I’m calling sensory-state behavior. This type of behavior depends on the current sensory input as well as some “remembered” internal state which can be altered by changes in the sensory input, by the passage of time, and sometimes by a stochastic (i.e. unpredictable or “random”) component. The “randomness” is likely to be actively utilized only where predictable behavior is disadvantageous. Suppose our euglena friends live in any environment in which sunlight is often blocked transiently by passing objects overhead. It may be that most periods of darkness are so short that actuating the flagellum immediately costs more energy than it yields. Perhaps, then, a calculated delay would help. If it gets dark, you wait a certain amount of time before you seek sunnier pastures – that way, you don’t waste energy on all those brief periods of darkness.
The sensory-state paradigm can also be much more sophisticated. To make our example slightly more robust, what if the euglena also remembers (in its internal state) the recent frequency and average duration of the periods of darkness? Now it can optimize its delay to suit the characteristics of a dynamic environment.
If adaptability to changing environments is what an organism needs, then it might make sense to move on to my next “level of complexity”: sensory-state-learning behavior. This employs some set of feedback signals that reinforce behaviors leading to to primally positive outcomes (e.g. food! yum! good!) and discourage behaviors leading to primally negative outcomes (e.g. hunger! starvation! BAD!). The feedback is used to “reprogram” the behavior to adapt to environments that change rapidly in unpredictable ways. The feedback signals can be equated with the basic sensations of pleasure and pain.
Computational theory buffs will be quick to point out that sensory-state behavior is capable of doing anything that sensory-state-learning behavior can do. And they’re right! From a theory of computation standpoint, anyway. Sensory-state behavior is Turing complete – it can emulate sensory-state-learning behavior. The distinction between the two levels of complexity assumes that the implementation substrate requires more energy and attains less stability in maintaining its internal state than its underlying behavioral programming. For behavior implemented using neurons, as in the human brain, that seems to be the difference between memory using neural feedback (analogous to flip-flops in digital logic or RAM in a computer) and long-term potentiation (more analogous to non-volitile memory, such as a hard drive). It may be too energy-expensive to implement adaptive learning through sensory-state behavior, but if the underlying circuitry can be changed instead, it becomes worth it.
This is great for avoiding that thing that burns you and not pushing your limbs outside their safe ranges of motion. It works to teach you the way home that has fewer scary run-ins with predators. It could even help you refine any beneficial tool use you stumble into. But it doesn’t explain where abstract thinking comes from – it doesn’t tell us why humans can create mental models of their world that allow them to predict which courses of action will likely yield the most favorable results. For that, I suspect, you need sensory-state-learning-self-training behavior. I’ve created a Hyphen-Monster. The added ingredient is that the feedback signals that train the behavioral circuitry can come not only from the senses, but also from the outputs of the behavioral circuitry themselves. Feedback sensations like “pleasure” and “pain” take on internal analogs not directly linked to the senses. Thus, for instance, humans could experience either “physical pain” or “emotional pain”.
These internal feedback signals would allow an organism to learn not only behaviors, but also new ways of learning behaviors and ways of systematically modifying behaviors. These “meta-behaviors”, I believe, could be the basis for rational thought, complex emotion, and even language.
I am not an expert in biology, psychology, cognitive science, or neuroscience. But many of my friends are! I hope they, and others, will comment on this post to let me know how this fits with ideas in those scientific communities and with their own ideas.
Thank you very much for reading!


Stan Schleifer
March 27, 2010
To fill the void left by your hiatus on the GROK PROJECT I’m thinking about starting a blog called “THE GLOCK PROJECT”. It will be about armaments for troubled times.
Now aren’t you glad you didn’t inherit my sense of humor?
Stanley Schleifer
May 2, 2010
Hey Ian,
You have left us all on tenterhooks (whatever those are), waiting for your blog to continue. Please get your **** together and continue giving us the benefits of you wisdom on this fascinating blog.
Stan
Tisha
June 14, 2011
Wow, thats a really clever way of thinnkig about it!
Polina
March 7, 2010
I think your approach to this topic is completely reasonable. I agree about the emotional pain-physical pain connection.
I have often wondered how we get to the more complex behaviors. It’s possible that when a child learns that he shouldn’t do something he later associates his discomfort with the emotional pain of his mother berating him, which he associates with the physical sensation of her loud yelling or not getting some sweet he wanted.
At first, achievements probably are simply a way to get pleasure or avoid pain, but them as we are rewarded for achieving goals more and more, the achievement probably becomes the “pleasure response”, whether we know it or not.
In fact, it has to.
We get to a point in our development when mommy will no longer congratulate us for going to the bathroom on our own. This must be a big shock, actually. I think it’s the first time a child learns he has to do something without expecting praise or a treat.
I remember several such discussions with parents who are annoyed that their children will not do anything without expecting some positive feedback for it.
So, I think how I would break it down is this:
(yes, I realize this is simplistic, and that some of it has been said before…)
1) Level 1 Learning – I react to and perhaps learn from: Obvious physical feedback – burned hand. Spanked by a parent, Given extra treat by a parent. Why things happen is almost irrelevant to me. They just do. My body is built to make me avoid pain and reach towards pleasure.
2) Level 2 learning – I react to and learn from: Things I associate with level 1. Angry authority figure. Hot stove. Mommy praising me. I am able to separate what I want from the fact that others don’t want the same as me. I can connect pleasure to good feedback and pain to bad feedback, as long as the feedback is consistent, and does not take long to occur.
3) Level 3 – I react to and learn from: Things we associate with level 2. Being aware that someone would be angry or happy that I did something. Doing things to avoid getting caught or getting shunned by peers. Achievement of goals is, in general, good. They might be someone else’s goals or rules, but if I learn them and live by them, I will get what I want (or at least not get hurt). I am probably able to manipulate others to do what I want, but probably not smart enough to recognize there is something outside the patterns I am used to. I can probably comprehend symbols and language and that things stand for other things.
4) Level 4 – Initiative. I learn because I am now capable of setting my own high-level goals for what I want. I recognize patterns that have no obvious survival advantage for me and study them. I create models of how the universe works in my head. While I, of course, react to the lower levels because my survival demands it (and because I am used to it), I am no longer a complete slave to my impulses.
5) Level 6 – I learn because I recognize its intrinsic value, not just because it will bring me survival advantage or help me to achieve some specific goal. (Though it may do this, also).
Where I am slightly shaky is how 1 gets to 2. Once you get to two, the others follow as simply more complex neural connections. Associations with other associations.
Even birds know to look for “clues of aggression” or “clues of more food”. We do the same.
But we are somehow wired to be more discerning than most animals, who may or may not see the same things we do. Also, our vision is quite good. We pick up on subtle clues that help us survive because those of us who could see and make the connections were the ones who survived. Observation, both physical and metaphorical, I think, is what may have given us the edge.
I admit I am biased because I believe knowledge gathering is the ultimate purpose of humankind, but I don’t think I am far wrong in this.
Ian
March 9, 2010
Thank you so much for the very thoughtful comment! I will try to tie into it in “part 3″.
I’m on a bit of a blogging hiatus at the moment (it would seem), but The Grok Project will continue soon! I’m just a tad overwhelmed at the moment.