In his 2003 book, Being No One, Thomas Metzinger contends there is no such thing as a “self.” Rather, the self is a kind of transparent information-processing system. “You don’t see it,” he writes. “But you see with it.”
Read Thomas Metzinger on the nature of subjective experience here.
How does a self help deal with the knowledge of death?
Animals self-deceive, and they motivate by self-deceiving. They have optimism bias; just like human beings, different cognitive biases emerge. So we have to efficiently self-deceive. The self becomes a platform for cultural forms of symbolic immortality, the different ways human beings tackle the fear of death. The most primitive and simple, down-to-the-ground way is they become religious, a Catholic Christian, for instance, and say, “It is just not true, I believe in something else,” and form a community and socially reinforce self-deception. That gives you comfort; it makes you healthier; it is good at fighting against other groups of disbelievers. But as we see in the long run, it creates horrible military catastrophes, for instance. There are higher levels, like, for instance, trying to write a book that will survive you.
Imagine taking a substance that alters your perception of reality such that the language you have developed so far according to your naturally occurring experience is useless to convey these new thoughts. But you know they make sense, and you know if you could talk about them they would make sense to others too.
Well, you can’t really, unless you’re the one taking the trip down these newly carved neuronal pathways. In this case, it’s me and the magic mushrooms I just took. I came out on the other side all shaken up/out and with one main question: If a philosopher takes a mind-altering drug alone in her room, is she still philosophizing?
Let me start off by saying it is very rare for me. In the few times I have taken psychedelics I have been too modest in my dose to achieve anything resembling a trip (with the exception of salvia, which I do not recommend). This is the first I’d felt, if I can attempt a vague metaphor, an opening of the mind. I thought I’d have to wait until my deathbed to have any entirely new thoughts, and yet here they were a fungi away. I felt frightened, exhilarated, frustrated, and like I wish I did this more often, though my typical arrangement does not think that’s a good idea.
Michael Martin and Keith Augustine (eds.)
Published: November 30, 2015
Michael Martin and Keith Augustine (eds.), The Myth of an Afterlife: The Case against Life after Death, Rowman and Littlefield, 2015, xxxi + 675pp., $85.00 (hbk), ISBN 9780810886773.
Reviewed by William Hasker, Huntington University