Adam asked:

Your panel replied:

Or electrogravitic UFO propulsion?

Answer by Craig Skinner

Rest easy. The Big Bang hypothesis is alive and well (more on this below).

Funnily enough though, perpetual motion may still have legs so to speak: in most theoretical models of dark energy, its density is constant, so that as the universe expands, the total amount of dark energy increases. Far from running out of steam as 19th century thermodynamics had it, the universe seems to be a perpetual motion machine, expanding because of dark energy, and thereby creating more dark energy as it does so.

As regards UFO propulsion, I have nothing to report, but suggest you can trust the textbooks here.

The Big Bang hypothesis (originally called the primaeval atom hypothesis) was advanced in 1927 by Father Lemaitre. He said the idea fell out naturally from Einstein’s equations, and explained recent redshift findings (the universe was expanding). Einstein didn’t accept it, saying the mathematics was brilliant but the physics abominable. If true, there should be cosmic microwave background radiation, and in 1948 Gamow calculated that such an ‘afterglow of creation’ would now have a temperature just a few degrees above absolute zero.

In 1951, before the theory was accepted by science (most favoured an eternal, essentially unchanging universe), the Pope endorsed it, saying it supported Christian doctrine as to God creating the world. Many scientists opposed it because of this endorsement, one even said it was a conspiracy to shore up Christianity. Fred Hoyle, one of the authors of the rival Steady State Theory, referred to the primaeval atom idea derisorily as the ‘Big Bang’ in a 1949 radio programme, and the name stuck.

In 1964, the cosmic background radiation was detected, just as Gamow had predicted, and the theory was secure. Further evidence for BB and against SS was the radioastronomy data as to distribution of young galaxies (BB and SS predicted differently, the observations supported BB).

The initial Big Bang idea couldn’t solve the monopole problem, flatness problem and smoothness problem. But these were solved at a stroke by hypothesising a brief epoch of enormous expansion (inflation) in the Universe’s earliest moments. And so was born the Inflationary Big Bang hypothesis which is the standard model accepted by virtually all cosmologists.

It’s uncertain whether the Big Bang is

* the start of the one and only universe that exists

* the latest rebound in an endless Big Bang/Gnab Gib cycle

* one of a vast number of quantum fluctuations producing universes in an inflationary multiverse

* one of many collisions involving higher dimensional branes (M theory)

but these are simply further enquiries and developments within a well-established paradigm.

Craig Skinner at PhiloSophos.com

Answer by Eric George

I don’t think one should throw away a tear drop and then say one has removed the ocean. That certain answer given to you in reply, doesn’t speak for the entire panel. Furthermore, I take the answer itself to be in the context of certain scientific theories which attempt to do away with the absolute beginning of the universe a finite time ago (most estimates express this to be 13.7 billion years), postulated in the classical representation of the Big Bang cosmological theory. ‘The standard model’. This model posits, simply put, that since the universe is expanding (metric spacial expansion) – then theoretically by rewinding the past series of events backwards the universe becomes more dense and more contracted. That is, both time and space contract to the point of singularity, an extremely dense state from which the universe as we now know it, came to be.

But this early phase of the universe is open to speculation, because under the standard model, once the universe contracts and breaks down to the sub-atomic level, the introduction of GUT (Grand Unified Theory) propositions have to be affirmed. And to this end, nothing of the sort has been affirmed to be anywhere near as convincing in being viable to explain this early phase of the universe. This is where hypotheses underpinned by quantum mechanics are theorized, such as the multiverse or world ensemble theory which suggests that this universe we inhabit is just one of many randomly ordered universes.

Or the self-causation principle theory proposed by erudites such as Daniel Dennett which theorizes that the universe brought itself into being, or that another universe gave ‘birth’ to this current universe. The list goes on and on, however I take it to be that the Big Bang theory which is inclusive to an absolute beginning of time and space is commonly held and widely accepted within the scientific academia. The problem is not what, but how. How exactly did this all came to be – from the very early phase of the universe till now, this is a completely different matter and is open to speculation. In this way at least, an abandonment of certainty has taken place.

Eric George at PhiloSophos.com

Answer by Shaun Williamson

I think you are deliberately misunderstanding things, possibly for comic effect. The panel do not answer questions. Certain panel members may choose to answer your question but they do not consult each other on the content of answers, so there are no panel answers.

What are you getting an associates degree in, veterinary medicine or cosmology. You don’t tell us so it is difficult to see the point of this remark.

Cosmology is a difficult and rapidly evolving subject so it is unwise to be dogmatic about anything. However it has become apparent that the original (simple minded) big bang theory is not enough to explain all the things we now know about the universe. This doesn’t mean that it has been abandoned any more than Einstein’s theories meant that we had abandoned Newton’s theories.

I would bet that any recent textbook you can buy would not contain Stephen Hawking’s latest ideas on black holes, nor would they contain the latest ideas on the nature of dark energy. The reason why we have research departments in universities is that the textbooks are never up to date. Even out ideas about quantum mechanics and the uncertainty principle have recently been questioned.

You should also keep in mind that we have still failed to match our Einsteinian cosmology up with quantum mechanics and until we do this all our theories are provisional and open to question.

Shaun Williamson developed the Ask a Philosopher cgi script question.pl. He did his postgraduate studies on the philosophy of Wittgenstein.

Vicky asked:

I am confused at Leibniz’s concept of matter and monads and their relationship to one another. So from what I have got so far, and is confusing me, is that bodies are the repetition of monads, simple substances, since nothing else exists. Therefore in order to have an extended body, something extended must exist, the repetition of which will give us extension. But this contradicts the properties of monads which are unextended, without size, shape, dimension, virtually out of existence, so how can the repetition of that which has no extension give extension?

Any clarification or help would be much appreciated!

Answer by Jürgen Lawrenz

No need to be ashamed on being confused about Leibniz’s monads. There is a long history of confusion about them, even among scholars. In part this problem arose because of the publications history of his works and also because some of Leibniz’s explanations are in (apparent) conflict with each other. Above all the problem lies with acceptance of his ‘Monadology’ as his central statement of the theory, which was not Leibniz’s intention. But for 300 years, we believed it on his posthumous editor’s assurance. Hence all the ambiguities.

So to start with: The monad is not a thing that exists. As Leibniz says, it is a simple substance, which means it cannot be divided. It follows that ‘The Monad’ is a purely theoretical construction. But as a creation by God, it has certain attributes that lend themselves to making monads (important to note the plural!) real existents.

Those attributes are force (two kinds: active and passive), appetition and perception. In modern language, quite permissible, you can think of a monad as a field of force either positive or negative, meaning its force may expand or be inert. Appetition is their desire to exist (in German ‘Daseinstreben’). But since one monad has no existence, it must congregate with other. This is where perception comes, which is the recognition of itself in relation to others. You need not assume this to be consciousness. It means nothing other than that monads, being zero dimensional, cannot intermingle, but they can attach. It is not as outrageous as it sounds. In fundamental physics there is a veritable zoo of particles with zero dimension, zero momentum etc. But in experiments they leave traces of their force that we can detect. Which is why the monad theory seems such a curious premonition of things Leibniz could know nothing about.

Now I’m going to ask you to imagine such particles. For convenience, let them be four kinds of marbles. If a million of inert marbles stick together, they will generate an impression that they are dense, rigid, solid – in a word ‘matter’. If a million active monads stick together, they will generate the impression of being an ethereal thing, such as a ‘mind’. Since there is an infinitude, however, each unique, you never get 100% solid or 100% etherial, but always something between these limits. You are therefore entitled to say that any collection of monads in which a preponderance exhibits inertia, will be perceived as ‘matter’.

Now take notice that ‘perceive’ is the operative word. This is where things become very difficult. Since all this monadic stuff is zero-dimensional, it cannot be hard, solid, rigid etc. in any objective sense. It is hard, solid, rigid etc. to a perceiving agent. The way you need to understand this is as follows: When you start your day in the morning, you are starting motions of your body through a colossal obstacles course: furniture, trees, houses, cars etc. You can’t just walk through them. On the other hand, a dust mite lodged in your clothes might well see nothing to stop it from crawling through most of the material impediments that force you to go around them. A neutrino might go right through all of it in a straight line!

This is the basis of the estimation of Leibniz as an idealist. I propose to you this is wrong.

Although perception is the key, it perceives something real, namely the collective FORCE inherent in all these things. So when the collective monads of your body try to go through a glass door, they are physically repulsed by the inert force of the glass. In other words: Leibniz’s monadic theory is a sort of ‘pointillist’ theory of forces in the world, each point endowed with the aforementioned attributes. In order to actually exist, they must collectivise in their millions to make up a perceivable force.

Infinite dimensions enter the picture as per the example I just gave. Leibniz assumed that in a dimension below the one we live in, another universe could exist. Not the same, but again created by monads. To them we don’t exist, and they don’t exist for us; and we have no means of communicating. In his day, microscopic cells were first discovered, which gave him that idea.

One more step: As monads form collectives, you will understand from the four attributes (or ‘laws’ as Leibniz prefer to style them) that the possibilities for different kinds of things is also infinite. Therefore Leibniz assumes that God played in his mind all these infinite possibilities to see which is the richest of all these possible world, and in the end gave the nod (permission to actualise) to those collectives which now comprise our universe. Logically therefore ours must be the best possible world!

There is much more to it, but I hope this answers at least your most pressing and immediate needs!

Jürgen Lawrenz at PhiloSophos.com

Christopher asked:

This is a personal question, but it refers to being a philosopher. From reading responses from posts on this site it appears to me that everyone on this panel has fairly concrete beliefs when it comes to philosophy. Everyone seems to know what they believe when it comes to epistemology, metaphysics, ethics, etc…

So my question is what keeps you interested? Are there other questions you search for, or try to answer yourself? I really doubt that it’s the money. I’m not a philosopher of course, but I ask because I got into philosophy because I wanted to form what I consider to be educated beliefs about questions that are meaningful to me, not to mention just out of curiosity. I now feel like most of these questions I had 10 years or so ago I know I have ‘my’ answers. There is much of philosophy that I do not have an interest in and find it hard to believe that all of you are interested in every aspect of philosophy, and wonder why it is you still are active in philosophy. I mean for what purpose, to what end. Is it simply the delight of helping others achieve enlightenment (joke).

Answer by Craig Skinner

Your question – what keeps us interested, and to what end? – is a scientific, not a philosophical one. A well-crafted, short questionnaire to panelists might answer it, as well as telling us whether others also reach settled views on big questions after a few years. Meantime here’s my thoughts:

Maintaining interest, preventing boredom or burnout, is likely to be more of a problem for professionals (e.g. academics) than for amateurs like me.

It’s a problem in all professions, as I know from 40-plus years as a medical doctor. The answer is to change tack, try something new, every few years. Of course not all jobs allow flexibility, but I would have thought philosophy did. Certainly philosophers write of changing focus e.g. Blackburn tells us that after years of neglecting philosophical logic he decided to write a book about it. Recent examples by others include a new book on Hume’s ideas on self, and a fresh detailed defence of Berkeley’s arguments for idealism. Furthermore, as society and science move on, new areas of philosophy begin or open up.

Thus, many older contemporary philosophers grew up with an emphasis on philosophy of language. This was succeeded by intense interest in philosophy of mind. Now philosophy of information is the field for young academics. And philosophy of religion has made something of a comeback. Of course there will always be some closed-minded time servers, content to teach the same old stuff year on year till retirement (and for these few we might say that money – their pension – is what motivates their low-level interest).

I would think common motivations for continued interest in philosophy include some or all of the following:

* truth seeking
* exercise for the mind
* guide to living
* teaching
* compulsion

A few words on each.

1. Truth seeking

Absolute certainty isn’t an option. I think Karl Popper got it right when he said that truth is hidden (not manifest, even to an open-minded, industrious seeker) and we progress not by reaching truth but by avoiding error. So the best we can do is reach a settled-for-now view while being open to new evidence or argument.

2. Exercise for the mind

Some prefer crossword puzzles, others pub quizzes, yet others duplicate bridge. And then there’s philosophy e.g. what are the flaws, if any, in Berkeley’s idealism, in Lewis’s modal realism, in Priest’s true contradictions; does Everettian quantum mechanics make probability incoherent.

3. Guide to living

For myself, I find Aristotle a better guide to ethics than Kant, Hume or Mill, and also intend to get to grips with Parfit’s recent attempt to reconcile these traditional views (his 2-volume ‘On What Matters’ is on my shelf).

I like MacMurray’s dictum – ‘all thought is for the sake of action, all action for the sake of love’.

4. Teaching

I don’t kid myself that I facilitate ‘enlightenment’, but I enjoyed teaching medicine, and am pleased if a questioner likes my answer on this website. It is well-said (I forget by whom), that the greatest joy as a teacher is to show how something seemingly complicated is really quite simple, and how something seemingly simple is really quite complicated.

5. Compulsion

Some answers on this site suggest that since philosophy is hard work (correct), don’t embark on it unless, in effect, you have no choice because of internal compulsion. I suspect there is something in this. Much as a compulsive gambler knows at an intellectual level that it’s just a matter of chance, but carries on because he feels tonight is his lucky day, so philosophers know they will go to their graves without the secrets of the universe being revealed, yet carry on, hoping that the next thing they read just might lead to that ‘aha!’ moment.

This is Craig Skinner’s 100th post for Ask a Philosopher.

Craig Skinner at PhiloSophos.com

Adam asked:

Recently, just this past month, I’ve thought about existence, but I ran into a problem. I couldn’t find any explanation for the ‘differentiation’ of the universe, such as why each object in my room isn’t one foot to the left of where it is… or why gold bullion bars don’t suddenly appear on the side of the road when I go out for a walk, or why China has large deposits of rare earth minerals.

Maybe things I/we am/are not watching are uncertain and not certain! Could there be like Schrodinger gold mines’, ‘Schrodinger business ideas’, or ‘Schrodinger forests’ then?

Answer by Jürgen Lawrenz

The reason why you have this problem is because you are taking for granted (as most of us do, especially scientists) that the material universe is the default state of the world. But even if you accept (as we all do nowadays) that matter and energy are interconvertible, you still have no avenue to differentiation. This is where the ultimate human naivety comes from, when on analogy with human invention we suppose a prior ‘plan’, also known as the argument from design.

When you really think deeply about it, you will sooner or later come upon the realisation that something is missing from these preconceptions. If you don’t accept a designer universe, you have basically two options:

Either, the differentiation (or order) which we make and perceive is not per se, but an outcome of the survival strategy of conscious creatures, which in our mind-endowed estate leads us to recognise a relation between those features and characteristics and ourselves. This is a bit like saying: The Chinese deposits are not differentiated ‘in themselves’ and independently of any mind, but in virtue of our mind doing the differentiation – which could then be explained as an evolved differentiation capacity in the service of survival. Some of the things Schrodinger writes lend themselves to such an interpretation.

The other option is to accept that every item in the universe stands in some relation to every other item. Such an idea is at the back of the appropriately named relativity theory. The difficulty for us is that we can only cope with this idea is a very limited way. We tend to mathematise those relations, which leads to an ambiguity in the sense that, on one hand, we reify time and space in accordance with our formulas, or else we insist that these are also creatures of the mind and that the mathematical understanding is all we can have. Arguments of this ilk cut across quantum mechanics in the pronouncements of such as Wigner (‘the unreasonable effectiveness of mathematics’) and Wheeler (‘the participating universe’), or of Feynman (‘don’t worry, it’s all in the equations’), and of course Schrodinger again (his ‘Cat’). Yet as far as differentiation is concerned, the notion of the collapse of a wave front is not a bad approximation to a possible real state of the perceivable universe.

I don’t think we need to consider the big bang. Textbooks tend to lag far behind current doctrines and your textbook on physics is evidently unaware that the ‘inventors’ of the big bang hypothesis have long ago abandoned it.

We might come closer, therefore, with a third option, which involves the recognition that the differentiation is an adjunct of existence as such – or put another way, that existence IS differentiation. Undifferentiated existence is inconceivable. But then we need an element or process or feature, i.e. some kind of trigger and a default condition to effect the differentiating and engender existence. This has at least the virtue of being conceivable, namely in the conception of a residual force with differentiable charges. The force does not exist per se. It represents a potential; and being such, it can be actualised. E.g. given any event such as a single flutter by the superposition of positive and negative charge, a ripple effect would propagate itself with the twofold capacity of bonding opposing charges and catapulting them into existence; and, consequent upon this state change, cascading into a whirl of ‘birthing relations’. The meaning of ‘residual’ and ‘potential’ in this context implies a dividing line between existence and non-existence which is defined by the ‘actualisation’ that results from the default state of this condition being changed. It is an idea that began its life with Anaximander and Anaxagoras (always the Greeks there first!), went through an elaborate doctrine of force in Leibniz’s philosophy and can be found resurfacing in Prigogine’s book ‘The End of Certainty’.

It does not, I will admit at once, terminally banished infinite regress (in fact Anaxagoras needed a ‘nous’ giving a single kick to start this ball rolling). Moreover, it suggests an autophagous universe. But Leibniz dealt with this problem very well (drawing the sting from the issue of infinite regress) and Barrow & Tipler in their book on the Anthropic Principle theorise that that consciousness in fact ‘consumes’ matter en route to total consummation. You can see from this, that there is a slender thread of tradition in philosophy where your worries were sounded and struggled with, and you might find it worth your while to pursue this further on your own bat.

Jürgen Lawrenz at PhiloSophos.com

Eddie asked:

Newtonian mechanics tells us that the physical world at any particular moment can in principle be formulated as a differential equation with respect to time. By solving the differential equation and knowing the time of concern, one can find out or predict exactly how the world was in the past or how it will be in the future. Since we human beings are members of the physical world, our behaviours are necessarily governed by the laws of physics and thus fully predictable by the very same differential equation also. It follows that there is no such thing as free will.

Should mind-body dualism be rejected, will quantum mechanics be an essential clue for explaining the existence of free will?

Answer by Geoffrey Klempner

Let me first state something obvious. The ‘equation’ which you talk about ‘solving’ may indeed have a solution in principle, but it is not one that we can ever discover because all measurement in science has a degree of imprecision. To actually solve the equation one would need to have precise values, for even the smallest deviation will be magnified over time (the ‘butterfly effect’).

However, this leads to a second obvious point. There is a crucial difference for us, as human beings facing an uncertain future, between a universe in which the future is all laid out, determinately, even if we cannot know or predict it – where every event happens because of, say, the precise way that the Big Bang banged – and a universe where some events can occur without a determining cause. The second universe is ‘open’ not ‘closed’. This seems to matter to us, it makes a difference to the way we strive. But, even so, this would have nothing to do with free will as such.

There are two, in some sense diametrically opposed situations where one talks of an agent ‘exercising free will’.

One type of example, which is easily neglected in discussions such as these, is where you perform an action which everyone knew you would do. Let’s say I have a passion for the free will problem so that if any question about free will comes up on Ask a Philosopher I will always try to answer it. A colleague remarks, ‘I’m surprised you bothered to answer Eddie’s question.’ ‘You should have known be better than that!’ I reply. I’m a bit annoyed that my colleague didn’t know I was so keen on the free will problem. But that didn’t make my decision to answer Eddie’s question any less of a ‘free’ decision.

The other kind of example is where a decision is finely balanced. It is at least conceivable that a quantum event in the brain could be the thing that makes you go one way, or the other. Schopenhauer, writing long before quantum theory in his ‘Prize Essay on the Freedom of the Will’, argued that the ‘freedom of indifference’, where the tiniest impulse can tip the balance one way or the other, is not true ‘freedom’, because you weren’t involved. Your character, your desires, passions, ideals, none of these were sufficient to decide the question.

And, yet, what is interesting about this example – which is very common – is that after the event when you made your decision, albeit on the flimsiest or even non-existent grounds, you will seek to rationalize it, talk about it in a way which gives the decision a meaningful place in your ongoing ‘life story’. You make the decision yours by the things you do and say subsequently.

Clearly, on this scenario, it wouldn’t make any difference whether quantum theory was true or false. Even in a determinist universe, finely balanced decisions can happen. From a subjective point of view, we wouldn’t know the difference.

The pessimistic view is that free will is impossible either way. In a deterministic universe, we are like wind-up clockwork toys. In a quantum universe we are like roulette wheels. But these are just pictures. If you allow the picture to take hold of your mind you will lose the thing you have now, which arguably is all we could want from a concept of ‘free will’.

There is a deep sense of mystery in the incompatibility between our picture of ‘how the universe works’ and our sense of our own subjective reality. We don’t know our own selves, as we are ‘objectively’, and in a sense cannot know. The free will problem is the classic expression of this.

http://www.philosophypathways.com/vita.html

Kelly asked:

Hi there, I have an argumentative essay for my philosophy class, it is ‘Why is the mind/ body problem within Philosophy of Mind and Consciousness studies indeed a problem? Argumentatively discuss.’ Could you please help me with this? Im really struggling!

Answer by Jürgen Lawrenz

It is quite easy, although you may have to do a little work on your own to follow up what I’m about to tell you.

The problem surfaced with Descartes, who postulated that there are two substances in the world. In philosophy, a substance is so basic, it cannot be explained by anything else, but must be defined once and for all. In other words, a substance is not a composite. So the first, which is mind, is not made up of anything other than itself. Descartes calls it ‘res cogitans’, which is Latin for ‘a thinking thing’. Because thoughts are not material, a mind cannot be divided, it is whole. But because it is immaterial, it also has no physical presence in space, and cannot be weighed or measured or registered on an instrument.

This leads to the second substance, matter, which is the opposite. It is in space and occupies some portion of space, and it can be discerned by the fact that it appears to sensory instruments like your nerves (touch, vision etc). Descartes accordingly called this ‘res extensa’, or ‘extended things’ – in other words, things that have a physical dimension.

Now this is where the problem enters. If mind is immaterial, it has no surface or any other physical means of contact where material things could attach themselves. So we are now confronted with the problem that my body motions, which we suppose are generated by thought (my will) must somehow be communicated from the mind to my flesh and muscles and bones. But how is this possible?

From Descartes onward (he lived in the 17th century) to this day, philosophers and scientists have struggled with different ideas on how these two substances can be brought together and work harmoniously, as we believe they do. Somehow, mind (will, desires etc) can make their way into the flesh, we just don’t know how. This has led many thinkers to try and find a way around the problem by various alternative ideas.

E.g. Malebranche supposed that God acts an intermediary between the two substances, effectively coordinating them, but very few people go along with this any more. Spinoza taught that there is no material substance at all, that the whole world is a kind of mind. Basically this spells out as God=The World. We are simply a conscious part of this mind world and generate the idea of physical things in our minds as impressions. They don’t actually exist independently. Leibniz reasoned that the two substances are actually two forms of existence for one ultimate substance. This one substance is force, although he calls it ‘monad’. Many monads forming a cluster of force which can be expansive (ethereal) and then be mind-like, or they contract and become matter-like. And this idea removes the problem, because the one substance in two forms of existence has no problem communicating with something other that is still like itself.

These ideas from Malebranche to Leibniz solve the problem of how mind and matter can communicate, but hardly to everyone’s conviction. In the 19th and 20th centuries, the whole issue got turned around and matter was supposed to be primary. Then you have to find a way of explaining how matter can become so thin and virtually vanish, so that it can make a mind. We tried this for nearly 200 years now (and still keep trying), but the results are again so ambiguous that they can hardly be called real solutions.

In the end, many thinkers cave in and propose that the whole issue is no issue at all. There are no substances, there is no mind, and matter is simply a word to denote various states of energy. Well, one can get by denying everything, but it doesn’t help to explain consciousness. And we really want to know what it is, why it is and how it came to be!

In the end, therefore, despite nearly 400 years of effort, not much progress has been achieved. So the problem boils down to this: That we humans have bodies as well as consciousness. When the body dies, it is no longer conscious. So there must be some element that made it (the body matter being built up from birth) conscious. But I think maybe the reason why we’ve never solved it properly, is because the question I have just mentioned is guided by presuppositions that cannot be traced back to any origin at all. What I mean by this is: We presuppose that a living body is made of matter and that somehow consciousness is added to the matter. But what if conscious life is a particular state of existence which we can’t examine because we are that state of existence? Just a thought, but it hasn’t been seriously looked at.

That’s the outline of the problem. How to fill it in, is another problem! So many books and articles have been written, and there is so much contention in this industry that a beginner would be well advised to stay away from it.

I would recommend that you read Descartes’ ‘Discourse on Method’, the book that started the ball rolling. It’s only about 70 pages and you can read it in 2 hours (and you can skip Chapter 5). This will at least give an authentic source from which you can quote. Then there is a short paper by Leibniz called ‘The New System’, which is very illuminating about the mind-body problem and also a classic with good quotes in it. Another good source is Gilbert Ryle, ‘The Concept of Mind’: it is probably enough for you to read Chapter 1 to get the gist of the problem from a modern perspective. If you can spare the time and have a genuine interest, you might also look into John Searle’s ‘The rediscovery of the Mind’, Gerald Edelman’s ‘Consciousness: How Matter becomes Imagination’, and Gregory Bateson’s ‘Mind and Nature’. However these books are probably Honours grade material and you didn’t state at which level you’re studying. Anyway, I hope you got something from my answer to help you along your way.

Jürgen Lawrenz at PhiloSophos.com