We are accustomed to thinking of consciousness as a function of the brain—specifically, the result of neural connections, electrical signals, and the biochemical processes occurring within it.
However, as scientific knowledge deepens, it is becoming increasingly clear that this theory fails to explain the most important thing: what exactly is our “self,” and where does consciousness come from in the first place? Does it truly belong to the brain? Consider a well-known fact: the brain’s power output is a mere 20 watts—less than that of a refrigerator light bulb. How can such a “processor” function in the way we are used to (let alone in extraordinary states), handle complex abstractions, experience moments of insight, and so on?
What is wrong with materialism?
Christof Koch, one of the world’s most renowned neuroscientists, recently presented a paper at an international symposium that has been hailed as a “Copernican revolution” in the study of consciousness. He argued that the materialist view of consciousness—which dominated science throughout the 20th century—may well be mistaken. Consciousness, he suggests, is not a product of brain activity but a fundamental property of reality, akin to mass or electric charge.
Or, for instance, gravity. Gravity does not exist because apples fall; rather, the exact opposite is true: apples fall because gravity exists—a fundamental property of matter manifesting as the mutual attraction between all bodies. Koch applies this same logic to consciousness: it does not originate in the brain; instead, the brain “tunes in” to it.
Modern neuroscience has achieved impressive results. Scientists can observe which areas of the brain activate when a person sees the color red, feels pain, or makes a decision. Yet, science remains unable to explain why this physiological activity is accompanied by a subjective experience—that very “sensation” of redness.
The contemporary philosopher David Chalmers has termed this the “hard problem of consciousness.” And, as Christof Koch argues, materialism—the belief that consciousness is entirely reducible to physical processes in the brain—fails to solve this problem.
Three “blind spots”
In his presentation, Koch identified three major “blind spots” in the traditional view of consciousness:
- The impossibility of reducing subjective experiences to physical brain processes.
Yes, brain scans reveal which neural networks are active. We can look at a scan and see which areas of the brain “light up” when a person, say, experiences pain. Yet, we will never see the pain itself in the image.
- Questions of physics.
Modern science itself does not know what is real and what is not. At the quantum level, matter is more of a probability field than a collection of solid particles. Where, in this worldview, is there room for sensations or consciousness itself?
- Anomalous phenomena.
This is the most intriguing part. Near-death experiences, various mystical states, and instances where patients with severe dementia experience a moment of “lucidity” or clarity just hours before death—none of these fit the notion that consciousness is merely the result of neuronal activity.
Koch emphasized that these phenomena cannot be ignored, as they highlight gaps in our current scientific knowledge.
“We are all surrounded by consciousness”
Christof Koch is a proponent of the Integrated Information Theory proposed by Italian psychiatrist Giulio Tononi. In fact, the theory relies more on mathematics than on biology. According to this theory, consciousness emerges in systems that integrate vast amounts of information into a unified whole. The level of consciousness is measured using a mathematical value known as “phi” (Φ), which indicates the depth of interconnectedness. Simply put, the more complex the internal connections, the higher the level of consciousness. But what does that imply? Could any sufficiently complex system—the Internet, a standalone computer, or even an airliner—also possess consciousness?
Koch and Tononi answer: yes! “We are all surrounded by and immersed in consciousness; it is in the air we breathe, the ground we walk on, the bacteria inhabiting our guts, and the brains that allow us to think,” asserts Christof Koch.
In essence, this is a scientific version of panpsychism—the doctrine that everything in our world possesses consciousness to some degree. The brain does not produce it; rather, it merely acts as a “receiver.” Just as a radio allows us to listen to music that does not originate within the device itself, the brain simply catches the right frequency by tuning into it.
If you break a radio, the music coming from it stops. But that does not mean the music itself—or its source—has ceased to exist.
Thoughts without a brain
To modern brain sciences, Christof Koch’s ideas sound bold and even controversial. Yet, they are hardly revolutionary. Ancient Indian thinkers speculated that consciousness permeates everything around us. Among Russian philosophers, this view was supported by Alexei Kozlov in the 19th century.
Russian neurophysiologists have long sought to understand the brain’s higher functions. The hypothesis that the brain merely receives thoughts from an external source—effectively connecting to consciousness—was proposed, for instance, by Natalia Bekhtereva, the former head of the Institute of the Human Brain.
“The research we are conducting” at our Brain Research Institute confirmed: we cannot explain the mechanics of the creative process. The brain can generate only the simplest thoughts—like turning the pages of a book one is reading or stirring sugar in a glass. But the creative process is the manifestation of a completely new quality,” she said.
In general, there are many mysteries. There are numerous confirmed cases where people retained consciousness despite a complete absence of brain activity. In a state of clinical death—when the brain is shut down for several minutes—patients hear voices, view events from an outside perspective, and later describe the actions taken by doctors.
There are documented cases of people living normal lives with minimal brain matter. In 2007, the prestigious medical journal The Lancet described an extraordinary case of hydrocephalus in a 44-year-old French civil servant. The man went to the hospital complaining of leg weakness, but when a brain scan was performed, doctors were astonished: the brain’s ventricles were so enlarged that they occupied practically the entire space inside the skull. Nearly three-quarters of his brain tissue was missing, yet the clerk led a perfectly ordinary life and suffered from no mental abnormalities—he went to work regularly, was married, and raised two children.
And there are dozens of such cases.
The Second Level of Consciousness
The brain cannot explain itself, and this is the central problem of neurobiology. Surgeons who have performed brain operations thousands of times have found no structures that could be identified as the seat of consciousness. One can measure electrical impulses, observe the activity of various regions, and record EEGs, but no instrument is capable of detecting the actual fact of consciousness.
Furthermore, the information contained in the neural code is insufficient to explain the phenomenon of human memory (remembering things for decades, knowing vast amounts of text by heart, etc.). Furthermore, the brain is too “weak” to generate consciousness. Its power output is a mere 20 watts—less than a refrigerator lightbulb—and it remains entirely unclear how such a “processor” carries out the mental activity familiar to us (let alone the kind that transcends the ordinary or pushes the boundaries of the possible), manipulates complex abstractions, experiences moments of insight, and so on.
A fascinating theory of consciousness has been proposed by Academician Konstantin Anokhin, Director of the Institute for Advanced Brain Studies at Moscow State University. In seeking to understand how the brain functions, he likens it not merely to a computer or a giant neural network, but to a two-level network permeated by “neuronal wormholes.”
“Our mind does not simply reside within the network of brain cells; rather, it emerges there as a hyper-network,” says Anokhin. “Although the brain appears ‘single-storied’ to us today, in reality, there is a ‘second story’ that constitutes its unique essence. This higher level is composed of elements entirely different from nerve cells and their connections, and it possesses a structure completely distinct from that of the neural network.
The primary components of this higher-level brain architecture are not neurons and the ‘wires’ connecting them, but rather specific cellular cognitive groups—or ‘cogis’—each of which forms an indivisible whole and represents a single unit of our knowledge and experience.”
The “wormholes” permeating the brain connect mental images (thoughts, memories) that are widely separated in time and space. This mechanism enables discoveries, moments of insight, and—more broadly—everything that defies the constraints of conventional logic.
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