Published Article: An Evidence-Based Critical Review of the Mind-Brain Identity Theory :)

Plus my comments on the modern "peer-review sociology"

My new article has been published! 😊
This is about the mind-brain identity theory.

One of the main arguments with which materialists come up is that “You are your brain. Neuroscience has shown this over and over again!”
Right?

And yet, there is lots of evidence pointing in a different direction.
And no, I’m not speaking of paranormal phenomena, near-death or out-of-body experiences, PSI research, etc. There is now a lot of down-to-earth empirical data that suggests that the brain does not “produce” or “generate” consciousness and the mind. Follow me…

The starting point is the ‘loss-of-function lesion premise.’ It assumes that, since brain lesions lead to some functional, cognitive, and mental impairment —> ergo the brain produces the mind/consciousness. Sounds obvious, doesn’t it?

But this statement might well be based on a correlation-causation fallacy. Other models of the brain-mind relationship are equally, if not more plausible based on current neuroscientific knowledge. I argue for a different point of view only starting from neuroscientific evidence.

This said, the aim isn’t to convince readers of a particular metaphysical theory, but rather to illustrate how easily we jump to naïve conclusions from simplistic premises because of an unaware confirmation bias. If we like to believe in something, then we see only what confirms our belief and systematically ignore what it doesn’t. The metaphysical assumptions of the materialistic worldview are not rooted in logic and facts, rather they are dictated by a belief system.

I hope you will go through the paper to check this out by yourself!

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About the History of this Paper

Meanwhile…. here, I would like to come up with a (not too short) sidenote about the sociology of modern science and that was eloquently reflected in the review process of this paper.

Let me tell you in advance what the issue was: I had to go through a peer-review process of 6 referees (yes, six!) I’m not aware of anyone having gone through so much revision, inspection, and scrutiny with endless delays as this paper had to endure. The standard journal uses two or three referees, and if all two (or two out of three) recommend the paper for publication, you have your article published, otherwise it is rejected. But I have never been subjected to six reviewers (and I am wondering who, if anyone, had a similar experience?)

Before explaining what was going on, let me place things into context.

In the modern philosophy of mind, consciousness studies, and neuroscience, the debate about what consciousness is, if and how it is a mere epiphenomenon of the brain, if the mind is computational or not, how the brain produces our mental and phenomenal dimensions, etc., remains more than ever a highly controversial and open question. There are a plethora of theories that try to pin down the mind and consciousness, mostly inside a naturalistic view, but also some inside non-naturalistic paradigms. There is no scientific consensus on the subject, and we are light-years away from being able to describe the functional mechanisms standing behind our conscious dimension, as we can do, for example, with the law of gravitation, the theory of relativity, or the mathematical foundations of quantum physics. Nobody should be so arrogant as to censor a theory, an alternative hypothesis, or a paradigm only because it does not fit into one’s worldview. Unfortunately, we have already seen how this form of ideological fundamentalism is growing in academia, with the recent letter signed by many scientists and philosophers branding IIT as ‘pseudo-science.’ The same kind of ideological mindset transpired in the review process of my paper as well.

Obviously, the paper is conjectural and, while it expresses a preference for a post-material view of consciousness, it nevertheless tries to take into account the reasons for material monism. It expresses only a hypothesis without pretending to be the ultimate truth and is just saying: “Maybe we should look at the data from a different perspective.” The point is that it is this change of perspective that is rejected, not the content and the data presented.

Of course, it is unlikely it will find supporters among those who have a worldview rooted in a strictly materialistic belief system. Whereas, those who lean more toward some form of mind-body dualism or philosophical idealism might have fewer preventions. This is completely okay, that’s how the search for truth works. There are competing theories, models of reality, points of view, and belief systems where everyone puts forward one’s own, and then history will tell who got it right, and who didn’t. Having preferences, biases, and opinions, and reasoning from (more or less unaware) metaphysical assumptions is part of human nature. Like it or not, we always have a metaphysical belief system that influences our way of seeing the world. And, until science falsifies one or the other claims, everyone should have the right to criticize the other model or theoretical framework, without being banned or vetoed.

However, when a disagreement isn’t based on scientific or rational arguments but wants to prevent the opposite hypothesis from having the right to become public only because it doesn’t resonate with one’s preferences, then things become pathological. Constructive criticism morphs into an ideological quarrel that prevents the progress of science when it becomes exclusive allowing only for one’s own ontology while prohibiting all those arguing for the opposite paradigm from publishing their alternative thesis. This leads many referees to evaluate a paper not on its internal consistency, its logical structure, or the rigor of the argumentative line, but only if it fits into one’s own worldview and ideological background.

Still strong is the belief that scientists are immune from biases, presumptions, and ideological tendencies and only evaluate dispassionately the raw data. But this isn’t at all the case. It can be clearly seen when you subject a paper to a peer-reviewed journal. Especially when it comes to questions involving a deeper philosophical dimension that questions the orthodox school of thought.

To clarify what the red line between a bad or wrong argument is and an argument we dislike but that can’t be outrightly rejected, let me give an example, taking the side of the reviewer. Personally, I consider the so-called many-world interpretation of quantum mechanics—which is a very common interpretation among materialists, utter nonsense. Why? Well, because I don’t like its idea that the universe branches into gazillions of parallel ‘worlds’ with a copy of myself. It doesn’t feel good to believe that I’m splitting myself continuously into whatever strange parallel universes. But I also admit that my problem with the MWI is more due to a personal preference rooted in a psychological and intuitive perception rather than a rigorous scientific argument. According to our present scientific knowledge, as absurd as it might sound, the MWI still remains a matter of controversy among physicists, with some still considering it a viable option. Thus, even if abstruse and weird, scientists shouldn’t be prohibited from publishing about it only because it states something that *you* dislike. If I had to review a paper on the MWI, I would check for its internal consistency and the logical coherence of its arguments but, if these arguments are sound, even if these would not convince me, I would not reject the manuscript only on the base of my personal preferences. I would recommend it for publication, nevertheless.

This is what an honest review process should look like. Unfortunately, reality looks very different. Cognitive scientists and philosophers of mind who embrace a physicalist viewpoint of the identity between mind, consciousness, and the brain, once they see that one is hinting at an alternative hypothesis, stop reading and trash the entire thing with a few short comments. How do I know? Well, it is easy to see. When a reviewer begins making comments on something you didn’t say, an objection is raised against a statement that has never been made, an objection is raised without realizing that it was already pointed out and answered by the author himself, or an objection is raised against a statement that states the opposite of what the objection objects to. Then you know for sure that the reviewer didn’t read the text, and is lost in a reactive, instinctual, limbic-brain-like reply modus that argues from a purely emotional standpoint. Evidently, something is triggered, that stands beyond sound rational reasoning or intellectual motivation.

What happened in my case?

Frontiers is an open-access journal that bases its review process on three referees. The first round turned out to be relatively favorable. Two referees endorsed the article (one quite enthusiastically) the third one rejected it (without furnishing any counter-arguments, just making statements without justifying it.) So, at first, everything seemed to suggest that, despite one negative evaluation, the paper was going to be accepted, according to the rules of most peer-reviewed journals. Hurra!…. Opss… No.

It turns out that it was too early to rejoice. One of the reviewers who recommended the paper for publication suddenly “withdrew” from the review process. Sorry, what? Why does someone proofread a text, make annotations and comments, recommend it for publication, and then, about a week later, tell the editor that he/she “withdraws”? This never happened to me, and I have never heard of others having had such a problem. I don’t know what this possibly could mean and can only speculate. My guess is the following. Frontiers’ finalized articles that are published online display the names of the reviewers. Maybe one of the reviewers realized this only later, but, despite his/her positive assessment, preferred not to see his/her name associated with an article that isn’t in line with a physicalist paradigm and, therefore, decided to “withdraw.” This is only my speculation, I can’t say this for sure, but it seems to be the only possible explanation that comes to my mind.

Anyway, now what? Now the editor had to call another two reviewers into the play. Again, the same result: one acceptance (“the paper seems to present the information in a clear and rigorous manner”) and one rejection (“the paper is highly speculative and does not take into account alternative accounts of physicalism”). The paper is already too long, and it is impossible to include in a journal article of max. 12,000 words the summary of the plethora of alternative physicalist theories. And, most importantly, the whole point of the article is that rarely do physicalist theories, which are no less speculative, seriously address the anomalies that I pointed out to begin with. Physicalists, for most of the cases cited, simply ignore the data or, when they do consider it, they quickly dismiss it by blindly assuming (without any proof) that some neural mechanisms are at work (something I have also commented on), or they resort to a delay tactic of the sort of “we don’t know but it is only a matter of time, in the future we will.”

Okay, so after three acceptances and two rejections, but with one who “withdrew,” my manuscript went back to square one. From my exchange with the editorial staff via E-mail, their desperation was palpable as well. Finally, a guest editor was involved who had to make a final decision. After a long ping-pong of amendments, cuts, and clarifications, the paper was finally accepted.

So, what does this tell us? From those who resisted the publication came no arguments other than saying that physicalist theories should be considered (despite the fact that I tried to answer possible physicalist objections throughout the paper, and even though all these theories do not contribute much in explaining the neurophysiological anomalies I point out.) But, as I explained above, the net sensation is that the problem is exclusively ideological, not technical. If a paper does not confirm your theoretical line and worldview, you reject it, no matter how good or bad it might be.

Anyway, after this epic battle that did cost me a lot of time (nine months, between submission and acceptance, interesting…eh?) and energy (and nerves…), the paper is finally out there. Despite all, it was worth it. If I had given up, I would have something nagging onto my conscience.

As a final note, I would like to add that, judging from my experience, I would say that there is a huge amount of academics who are open to alternative paradigms but are scared to death of outing themselves. In a survey of 2020, it turns out that about a third of philosophers declare themselves as ‘non-physicalists’ (see here.) It is still a minority but a consistent one and, I guess, a steadily growing one. The problem is no longer cultural but institutional. I always say that it is not money that dominates the world, but fear. Fear of one’s opinions, fear of damaging one’s reputation, fear of jeopardizing one’s career prospects, etc. If you want to dig deeper into the latter aspect, at the cost of contradicting myself, I highly recommend Abarbanel’s article on the (neuro!)-psychological reasons for what is going on“To Broaden the Scope of Science, We Must Address Fear. A psychotherapist’s perspective on overcoming materialism.”