« Back to Table of Content || Next »

Chapter I: Uniqueness of the Human Mind >> Summary of Chapter I

Summary of Chapter I

In Chapter I we defined the phenomenon of mental synthesis. Imagining an apple on the back of an elephant involves the process of mental synthesis. Just remembering an elephant or an orange does not involve mental synthesis. Mental synthesis is a process of synthesizing a new, never-before-seen image in the mind from two or more mental images.

The process of mental synthesis is inborn in humans but seems to be beyond the reach of all animals. It fully develops in a human child by the age of 3 or 4, but does not develop in other animals despite years of training. For that reason I conclude that mental synthesis is a unique human trait. I would also argue that once any species acquires mental synthesis, that species would inevitably acquire a complex language, build cities, indulge in the arts, create religion, and actively teach their children [3]. Complex language, cities, symbolic art, and religion are consequences of mental synthesis.

The capability of a species for mental synthesis is best inferred through the communication between organisms. A community in which individuals are capable of mental synthesis would benefit immensely from the ability to communicate a new, never-before-seen image from the speaker’s mind to the listener’s mind. Therefore, I think, it was inevitable that humans acquired a complex synthesizing language, that is, a language capable of synthesizing a never-before-seen image in the mind of the listener.In Chapter II, we will compare the timelines of mental synthesis acquisition and language evolution and I will argue that a synthesizing language is the product of mental synthesis.

Communication between animals, on the other hand, is limited to sharing emotions, sending warning calls, and other codes. No animal language used in the wild amounts to a complex synthesizing language. To underlie the fact that animal languages are not intended for synthesizing never-before-seen images in the mind of another animal, I proposed to refer to animal languages as non-synthesizing languages.

Animal communication skills can be greatly improved by training. Scientists have demonstrated that animals can learn numerous words and signs. Animals can use those words to communicate their needs, emotions, and intentions. However, even animals trained to use hundreds of words fail to demonstrate a capacity for mental synthesis. Consider the following example. A child who learned several hundred words can easily demonstrate his or her mental synthesis abilities. Ask a three year old, if a cat can eat a mouse, and you will receive a positive answer. Then ask the child if a mouse can eat a cat. The child is likely to pause for a few seconds and then answer negatively. It is likely that the child solved the problem by imagining a mouse next to a cat and comparing their sizes. Since the mouse was smaller than the cat, the child concluded that the mouse was not able to eat the cat. The pause between the question and the negative answer probably corresponds to the time required for mental synthesis of the mouse next to the cat. The lack of a pause between the first question and the positive answer probably corresponds to the fact that the child knew the answer. After the second question, I often ask them how they arrived at their conclusions. Usually they respond by reminding me that the mouse is smaller than the cat. The children’s responses are consistent with the hypothesis that children answer the question by synthesizing an image of a mouse next to a cat in their mind, and then examining the size difference.

Animals who have learned to use several hundred words in correct contexts (that is, the number of words similar to a three year old child) fail to demonstrate the presence of mental synthesis. In fact, no matter how many words animals learned in a lab, they failed to demonstrate mental synthesis via their use of language.

One of the most significant theories of language was created by Noam Chomsky. In that theory, Dr. Chomsky proposed that complex human language (referred to as synthesizing language in this book) is innate to humans and that it can only be developed in humans. The material presented in this chapter is consistent with Chomsky’s theory. Further, it provides an explanation of why a complex synthesizing language cannot be taught to animals. The reason is that animals lack a capacity for visual mental synthesis. Words cannot help animals to imagine something they had never seen before because animals lack neural circuitry necessary for mental synthesis (this will be discussed in detail in Chapter III).

Mental images and mental imagery were a subject of scientific discussion for over two millennia. The earliest references to the subject can be found in writings by Plato and Aristotle. Mental imagery has been discussed by hundreds of philosophers since. How did it happen that the idea that mental synthesis is unique to humans escaped scientists for over 2,000 years? I think the reason is that animals often look so intentional, so focused on what they want, that this leads us to attribution of uniquely human characteristics to animals (anthropomorphism). When a human has an intention, it is usually associated with a plan generated in the human’s mind in the process of mental synthesis. Thus, philosophers often assumed that animals were capable of mental synthesis. Wrong!

Animals, in fact, can be very smart, emotionally attached, and caring - no less than humans - but in all their actions they are driven by reflexes and conditioned reflexes. They always execute a plan planted in their mind by training, previous experience, or hard-wired into their DNA. Humans, on the other hand, can test any plan visually in their mind first. To plan their actions, humans mentally synthesize images of multiple outcomes and then select the most appropriate course of action.

Note that mental synthesis does not come easily to humans. When tired, anxious, ill, hurried, or intoxicated, humans often rely on reflexes and learned automatic behavior (conditioned reflexes). Even well rested humans don’t normally plan computer typing, hitting a tennis ball, or pressing a brake pedal to stop a car at a red light. While humans can imagine all these actions via mental synthesis, humans normally do not do that because visual planning is unnecessary for the successful implementation of these actions. Execution of these actions from memory is as good as conscious planning (or often better than conscious planning). Then why are we surprised that a chimp can make a spear from memory? A chimp can remember to bite on a stick just as you remember to press on the brakes when your visual system registers a red light. Both of these actions are conditioned reflexes.

Can we identify a creature as a human or an animal in an experiment that does not include consideration of language? I was not able to come up with an ideal test. A lot of complex problems can be solved by animals without the process of mental synthesis. Unsuccessful species are invariably eliminated from a competitive environment on planet Earth. All surviving animals are living on our planet because they succeeded in solving nearly every important problem that they encountered. To succeed in evolution, animals had to evolve the reflexes that helped them solve problems. These reflexes may not exist in humans. It is not yet clear to me how to separate a reflex (or a conditioned reflex) from a genuine mental synthesis in an experiment outside of a language domain. A common sense approach is not helpful because the simplest solution for humans (visual planning by using mental synthesis) may not be the way an animal solves the problem. Language, in fact, may be the only available window into the mind of either a human or an animal.

Let us reexamine the question that was posed at the beginning of the chapter: is it possible to identify those creatures in the forest as humans or animals? As we have seen through our discussion in this chapter, it may not be possible to easily identify the creatures. Even if we observe the creatures engaged in conversation, it still may not be possible to conclude whether their language is intended for communicating never-before-seen images or whether it is simply a non-synthesizing language with many words. We would probably need to understand their language in order to grasp the meaning of their conversation and only then could we conclude whether or not the creatures are capable of mental synthesis.

The question of killing and eating the creatures posed in the introduction to Chapter I is, of course, purely theoretical. Would you kill a small monkey who only has a few calls in its lexicon? Would you kill a chimpanzee who was taught sign language? Would you kill a human who has not yet mastered synthesizing language? Over the course of history, people have killed millions of other human beings with well developed synthesizing language for money, territory, and religion. The decision is purely cultural. I would prefer not to kill any primates.

In Chapter II we will set out on a 5 million year journey of human evolution that will take us from a creature that was very similar to a modern day chimpanzee all the way to a modern human. We will learn how stone tools and other artifacts reflect the development of mental synthesis and how skeletal remains demonstrate the parallel development of a speech apparatus. The ultimate question is: what was the primary driving force of hominid evolution? Was it the manufacturing of tools? Improvement of hand dexterity? Development of a speech apparatus? Or was it all about the visual system? You will find the answers in Chapter II.