“Do not judge so that you will not be judged. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you.” — (Matthew 7:1-2)


Judgment: We have judged; we have been judged; we have been warned about judging; we have tried not to judge, yet we go on judging. We continue to judge, because we are unable not to judge. One fundamental aspect of all creatures is that they make evaluations, and this built-in feature is one that we cannot disable or uninstall. We constantly make judgments about the world we encounter, and our lives depend upon these judgments. Being asked to not judge would be akin to asking us not to feel, not to have emotions, not to think … not to feel alive.

Since judgment requires taking a measure, it is intimately related to value. When we judge, we are measuring and assessing value, worthiness, or usefulness. We must make choices to survive; to make choices we need to evaluate, and because these decisions must often be made quickly and efficiently, we depend upon shortcuts. Our feelings are the shortcuts. Feelings provide us with immediate feedback. Individuals, who have lost the connections between their emotional system and their executive functions due to an accident will experience decision paralysis, stress, and grow very agitated when they must make a choice, even a simple one.

If we must judge to live, then why the negative judgment about judgment? The above verse from the book of Matthew seems to hint that the prohibition has something to do with the way you judge. Do we judge others in the way that we want them to judge us? One of the most universal human biases is the attribution bias. This is the tendency when judging others for us to assume their behavior is the result of internal factors, such as their personality, yet assuming our own actions arise because of the necessity of external circumstances. We see others as having character defects and ourselves as victims of circumstance. We are biased, prejudiced, and far from rational beings — we do not judge fairly.

A person’s judgments reflect the essence of their personality and identity, which involves an ongoing dance between their inborn traits and their experiences in life. Because our judgments are so fundamental to us, we often assume that our particular judgments should be just as fundamental to others; but our judgments reflect our unique perspective, and therein lies the problem. Our judgments reflect our valuation, rather than a universal standard. Most of us rarely question the basis of our judgments, though we are quick to question the basis of others’ judgments — when they differ from ours or are directed at us.

When others’ evaluations are similar to our own, they are felt to be right, good, or okay and sometimes universal. However, when others’ evaluations differ from ours, they feel wrong or bad. We enjoy being with others who share our perspective, because the more consensus gathered around a judgment, the truthier it feels to us, and the more justified we feel. This is often the basis for the communities with which we choose to associate. Another person’s evaluation of us can either build us up or tear us down, unite us or divide us. Most of us prefer to be to be with people who build us up, yet in doing so, we often unite through tearing down those who differ from us.

Judgment is here to stay. The challenge will be to own our judgments as a subjective viewpoint. We need more education on how our minds deceive us along with more awareness of our personal biases, prejudices, and values. This will not happen without intentional effort, practice, and feedback from supportive guides. Humanity needs more dialogue, but if we do not understand the subjective nature of our consciousness, then wars, on both the personal and global levels, will continue indefinitely.

“All war is a symptom of man’s failure as a thinking animal.”   — John Steinbeck

John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

No Matter


Who made God?

This perceptive question asked by many precocious children deserves an answer…though a definitive answer is unlikely. This question challenges the “first cause” argument, an ontological position which asserts that there must be an initial cause of all that exists by following a chain of causality to the “first cause,” or as Aristotle termed it, the unmoved mover. Those who are theologically inclined believe this first cause to be God, while those who are secular, theorize naturalistic explanations such as the big bang, cyclic models, multiverses, or other scientifically based theoretical attempts to explain this mystery.

It is as impossible for our minds to grasp a nothingness from which something was born, as it is to grasp a something that was never born. What word we use for this ground of being, source of existence, pre-existing condition, or infinite state says something about the metaphysical paradigm we are reasoning from. Whether theological or secular, the ultimate existential question remains for all of us — why is there something rather than nothing? Why do I exist? Where did I come from? Hidden in these questions is the assumption that I do exist. Not only do I exist, but I am aware of my existence. While we can imagine that existence could be without awareness, that is not what we experience; our conscious experiencing is not seriously questioned. In actuality, our raw experience or consciousness is all any of us can be certain of.

Our minds automatically think in terms of causation, which leads us to explain our experiences by finding causes of those experiences. When this is lacking, we feel confused and out of sorts. Causal thinking works well for our day-to-day whodunits, but when it comes to finding the ultimate cause, it leads us to an infinite regress which either never ends or ends at the “first cause” — to which our causal minded minds ask, what caused the first cause or, who made God? Materialists face an additional but similar challenge as they try to solve the “hard problem of consciousness,” which involves figuring out how mindless matter thinks? This problem is similar to determining how something comes from nothing.

The most parsimonious solution is to flip the problem around by starting with the one thing most of us can agree upon, that we are conscious. Consciousness is the one thing which we all directly experience without an intermediary. This is a very satisfactory beginning point; let this be the unmoved mover from which all else stems. Given that our own personal consciousness seems endlessly creative, capable of constructing worlds and beings, what might a universal consciousness be capable of? Why do we need something else to explain where consciousness came from?

escherThat something else is usually some form of matter, but matter is not a required link in the chain. Matter is becoming increasingly squirrely, perplexing, and a lot more like consciousness anyway. Letting go of matter’s preeminence is the solution to the hard problem of consciousness. Mindless matter did not become conscious, consciousness became “matter.” Matter just happens to be what consciousness looks like. I still do not know who made consciousness — maybe it is infinite, or maybe it developed ex nihilo, but I do know it exists.

Today there is a wide measure of agreement, which on the physical side of science approaches almost to unanimity, that the stream of knowledge is heading towards a non-mechanical reality; the universe begins to look more like a great thought than like a great machine. Mind no longer appears as an accidental intruder into the realm of matter; we are beginning to suspect that we ought rather to hail it as a creator and governor of the realm of matter…

— Sir James Hopwood Jeans


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.


Two Worlds

Rodin-The-ThinkerI seem to live in two worlds. One that might be called my “inner world” consists of my private thoughts, emotions, images, and sensations. The other which appears to me as an “outer world” is a shared world that consists of other beings (those who seem to possess an inner world) and objects (things that do not seem to possess an inner world). These two worlds make up my universe; nothing else exists…for me.

The interplay between these two worlds is complex. Much of what could be said to exist in my outer world, exists only in my inner world. For example, I have never been to Africa, so I have never experienced it in my outer world, I have never touched it, seen it, heard it, tasted it, or smelled it. The continent of Africa is an outer world shared by over one billion people that for me, exists only in my inner world through second hand experiences.

neo-wakes-upMy office, where I sit now, exists in my outer and inner world. My inner world, ostensibly fed by the “actual” outer world through my senses, makes my office appear to me as a part of my outer world. It seems real, but how do I know for certain what is real? The philosophical position of solipsism holds that the “outer world” cannot be known. Extreme forms of solipsism deny any outer world, which includes all the other inner worlds. The plot of the science fiction film “The Matrix,” plays with the concept that the outer world is constructed by the mind. The Matrix, a designed outer world, is a complex computer program which humans directly interface with through ports connected to their brains. The humans in the Matrix experience an outer world that does not really exist “out there.”

Chaplin.mirrorDebates about the nature of the outer world are not only happening in philosophy and science fiction, but increasingly in the scientific community. Thinking about the “realness” of my outer world can twist my mind in a Gordian Knot if I am not careful. Yet, I must also take heed of the other extreme, namely over-belief in the outer world. Questioning the outer worlds’ existence generally comes from an intellectual position, not an experiential one. Experientially, the outer world feels certain. Much of my inner world does too. I tend to believe my thoughts and interpretations. Certainty feels good, and these feelings are often necessary for survival — doubting the realness of the world is not a trait that will likely contribute to many descendants.

We crave certainty in both of our worlds; so much that we fight for it when someone challenges our sense of it. While we like suspense, surprise, and mystery, we do not like to sit with these feelings indefinitely. We ultimately want resolution; we want certainty. This can drive us in positive ways to understand our experience, and to use that understanding to improve our existence. But, this craving for certainty has the potential to destroy us. We see evidence of this in political, religious and other interpersonal clashes. What happens when two sides both feel certain of incompatible positions? Certainty can block mutual understanding, empathy, giving others the benefit of the doubt, or meeting in the middle. These are essential diplomatic and interpersonal relationship skills.

I am trying to learn how to question my own certainty, and to live a life that can embrace uncertainty. The scientific method, an approach based on confirming or disconfirming hypotheses based on empirical evidence, may be the closest that we can get to certainty in a subjective world. It provides a structured way to dialogue and find consensus about our shared outer world. Yet, consensus is still lacking, even science is subject to biases and current paradigms. Humans are naturally stubborn and resistant to evidence that works against their beliefs, even when it might provide a better explanation.

population-2014There are over seven billion people in our consensual outer world, each possessing a different inner world; each providing a unique perspective on the outer world; each potentially at odds with many of the others; each feels their “truth” deeply, craves understanding, and desires some sense of connection. The interplay of these many worlds might not be survivable, but if we are going to make it, then we must learn how to live together between the inner and outer worlds. Science alone is not enough, we must also find ways to understand, abide, and share our bewildering inner worlds.

“I like the scientific spirit—the holding off, the being sure but not too sure, the willingness to surrender ideas when the evidence is against them: this is ultimately fine—it always keeps the way beyond open—always gives life, thought, affection, the whole man, a chance to try over again after a mistake—after a wrong guess.”

Walt Whitman

John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.


58949722 / State Opening of ParliamentFrom the schoolyards to the networking events to the red carpet, it is intuitively felt. As a social species, humans are highly attuned to social status; one might say that we have a built in “status detector.” Natural selection has rewarded individuals having higher status with better access to mates and food and subsequently more offspring, along with other benefits that improve quality of life. Research suggests that our brain chemistry and subsequently our emotions, mood and behavior are heavily impacted by our position in the social hierarchy.

“Serotonin levels are not innate and inflexible. They are themselves the product of social status. The higher your self-esteem and social rank relative to those around you, the higher your serotonin level is…. There is little doubt that the monkey’s mood is set by its high serotonin levels. If you artificially reverse the pecking order so the monkey is now a subordinate, not only does its serotonin drop, but its behavior changes, too. Moreover, much the same seems to happen in human beings.” — Matt Ridley

Lance Armstrong Tour De FranceHumans ascribe status in many different ways, but these typically come through two basic pathways: gained through achievement or assigned in some way based on aspects such as sex, age or physical characteristics or through background such as lance-armstrongone’s ethnic group or family. Societies can differ on which types of status they emphasize and how rigid the boundaries are between the layers. Status systems create a hierarchy within society that provides those at the top more power and privilege. One might say that these entrenched ways of assigning status create a strong current that can make it difficult and at times impossible to contravene. Within these systems, there are frequently crosscurrents, when various categories of status intersect (for example, women high in social status before women’s suffrage). And, just as status can be gained or assigned, it can be lost or forfeited.

The concept of fraternization occurs when someone within a given status system engages in social relations with people from a different strata as though they were siblings, personal friends or lovers. The resulting impact of these systems is to effect inequality, which leads many institutions and societies to enforce strong prohibitions against fraternizing. This flows from the recognition that intimate relationships work best between peers. Unequal power can distort romantic relationships and create conditions of imbalance that may lead to unresolvable conflict. So, although it is based on a perceived place in the hierarchy, it has dramatic results and impacts our emotions, mood, even physiology and behavior, which one can clearly see in the conduct of winners (arms and chest held aloft) and losers (shoulders and head lowered). Feelings of contempt towards others reflect a perceived higher status, while feelings of resentment reflect perceived lower status. Those above judge and criticize, while those below defend. Aggression comes from a place of power, while passive-aggressive or terroristic behaviors spring from perceived lower status.

Status emerges in human relationships from deep within our subconscious minds, often catching us unaware. It is often reified in institutions and in society as a whole, even considered to be imbued by nature or divinity. Resistance to this idea has been germinating for years challenging nature’s push and society’s hold. There is growing concern about the levels of inequality in the distribution of wealth and resources. We almost universally find it humorous when the pompous are brought down, and some say this is the essence of much of our humor. We are also keenly aware of hypocrisy, especially of those in places of power and prestige. If we notice this force in our lives, and notice that it is based on perception, then we can more consciously consider what role we want it to actually play in our lives and relationships. Significant healing can be achieved when the lowly are lifted up and the playing field starts to level. Given our propensity towards ascribing status, perhaps with greater consciousness, healthier systems of status might emerge which draw out the best in us rather than our baser instincts.

“Human beings are a species splendid in their array of moral equipment, tragic in their propensity to misuse it, and pathetic in their constitutional ignorance of the misuse.” — Robert Wright

John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Life is a game

Game: a competitive activity involving skill, chance, or endurance on the part of two or more persons who play according to a set of rules, usually for their own amusement or for that of spectators.

Board-Game-LifeIt could be that life is a game. You are assigned a player; you get an avatar and you are placed on the board. The player you are assigned seeming to make a big difference in this game, as does the appearance of your avatar and where you happen to be placed on the board. Some players seem to start with many more advantages, while many others seem to have been significantly handicapped. These handicaps can dramatically effect the results of a player’s game and there are locations on the board that can make staying in the game very challenging.

Games involve rules, but in this game you do not know the rules in advance. You pick them up as you play or the game ends. You absorb most of the rules without even realizing it. Other players, especially those closest to you on the board, may share the rules that they think are the basis of the game, however, it can be quite confusing when you see that everyone seems to play under slightly different rules. There are only a few rules that are sometimes called “laws of physics” which appear to apply to everyone. There are some rules that seem especially important and many other rules seem to work like guardrails to keep you from breaking the critical rules.

It is quite likely that you will never realize that you are playing a game. The stakes appear to be very high and most of the players are taking the game quite seriously; players rarely acknowledge to one another that they are even playing a game. There seems to be all manner of strategies that other players take in the game and this too can be quite confusing. This may or may not lead you to try to figure out what the game is all about. Most of us absorb an implicit understanding of this and just play accordingly. It is often easier to judge that others are playing the game incorrectly or just do not know the rules than to go through great efforts to determine the purpose of the game. These players adopt someone else’s rule book and let that calm their uncertainty and angst about the purpose and rules.

Managing energy level and hedonic tone seem to be very important in the game. The interaction with the other players seems to be a primary way this is done. Players seem to spend much of their time figuring out a strategy of how to establish and maintain relationships with other players and how best to earn and use their tokens (a.k.a. money). Players grow very attached to other players and find it very difficult when they are struggling or when their game ends.

Players seem to vary in how much amusement they get from playing the game. I suspect that many do not enjoy the game. This seems to be a function of the rule book, and how others play the game. The concept of winning is a big question due to the obscurity of the rules and purpose of the game. It does seem that many feel that only some players can win. These players seem hell-bent on “winning” their game regardless of what it means to the other players. There are also players that think that no one can win the game, while others believe everyone can.

New players are continually being added to the game. They require the help of others if they are going to make it in the game. Players at all levels are just as consistently exiting the game. Remaining players may try to learn from these exits. It seems like the game ends when the avatar can no longer function in the game, but game-overs remain a big mystery of the whole game.

If life is a game, then I wonder whose game it is and who these players really are? Who is manifesting all of these avatars? Could they come from one source? Could it be that there is only one player —a source that is capable of actualizing all the players on the board? This source might have imagined this amazing game, perhaps even many other amazing games — imagining and fully immersing in the games, so fully that for a time true identity is lost in the characters played.

If this is what the game is all about, then why should my avatar fear the end of the game? If he is playing, then the game is not over. If the game is over, then he is not playing. Why should he fear games that he is not a part of?

Why should I fear death?
If I am, then death is not.
If Death is, then I am not.
Why should I fear that which can only exist when I do not.

John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Being / Seeking

The baby, assailed by eyes, ears, nose, skin, and entrails at once, feels it all as one great blooming, buzzing confusion; and to the very end of life, our location of all things in one space is due to the fact that the original extents or bignesses of all the sensations which came to our notice at once, coalesced together into one and the same space. — William James (1890)

120892My existence is mysterious to me, yet that I exist is my core reality. My existence integrates an experiencer with that which is experienced. My experiencer divides my experience into “external” and “internal” perceptual categories, which by convention I label as either objective (external) or subjective (internal).  Orienting towards my experience further divides the objective and subjective into seemingly inexhaustible perceptual phenomena. If I move toward the subjective, through my “inner world,” in the direction of the experiencer, I ultimately arrive at simple awareness. This seems to be the starting point of my existence, for here all my perceptions are subsumed since without awareness there is no experiencer. Without my experiencer, I have no experience, no existence. Awareness is my immediately available, experiential foundation, my existence. It is my source, the ground of my being.

When I maneuver away from my foundation of pure awareness, toward the “great blooming, buzzing confusion,” I feel unsettled because my source feels diluted in this mysterious array of experience. Making sense of this mystery is the impetus of science, religion, philosophy and speculation. In my own sense-making endeavor, I will inevitably diverge from all the other efforts to do the same. Nevertheless, I feel driven to make sense of this mystery to achieve a sense of coherence and to reconnect with the simplicity of my existence. I am ever seeking a state of connection, unity and oneness.

Do I continue seeking, dividing, sorting and rearranging? Or, is what I seek, right here, at one with me, inseparable and immediately available?

Could it be that simple?

What if?

You are a function of what the whole universe is doing in the same way that a wave is a function of what the whole ocean is doing. 
― Alan Watts

UniversalMindThe existence of consciousness remains the greatest of mysteries. What if consciousness is not a byproduct of matter but the source of matter? What if a universal mind is the field that holds together our world of matter? … each speck of life, a unique portal through which this mind pours forth its creative impulses. A creativity that further blossoms as “matter” awakens to consciousness. “Awakened matter” ultimately notices itself as an object, and a sense of self is galvanized. Self grows cognizant of its awareness, and an unshared subjectivity is conceived. This individualized perspective can neither be replicated nor fully understood by another.

What if that perspective in us — which is aware, which notices and is our observing self — is universal mind seeing through the filter that is us with all our idiosyncratic characteristics? What if the world we notice “out there” is actually inside rather than outside — a dreamworld contained within universal mind? I, like many other seekers, desperately want to reify this mind of which I am comprised. Even naming it is a movement in this direction, but whatever is observing and experiencing through us, if it is singular, cannot be mentally captured any more than I can see my eyes with my eyes. We know this universal mind, this source of awareness, only through living and experiencing our unique perspective. Our life is this larger life, but embodied and limited in space and time.

If we believe a universal mind experiences through us, might it change the way we see ourselves and one another? Could we feel connected and unified rather than isolated and divided? Is it possible we would value ourselves and others in a more treasured way? Maybe we would be curious and open to others’ perspectives and less judgmental and intolerant. Perhaps compassion and love could flourish.

While it often seems that we dwell in separateness and look out at a world full of objects perhaps it is quite the opposite, and a knowing, experiencing and creative mind is “looking” within — seeing itself through myriad perspectives … a dynamic self with so many ways to experience, to interact … to be. Perhaps this self becomes so enamored and entangled in these multiple perspectives that in the midst of embodied experience it believes these dreams of separateness and loses a sense of unity.

Do we want “it” to wake up?

You are actually—if this is the way things started, if there was a big bang in the beginning— you’re not something that’s a result of the big bang. You’re not something that is a sort of puppet on the end of the process. You are still the process. You are the big bang, the original force of the universe, coming on as whoever you are. When I meet you, I see not just what you define yourself as—Mr so-and- so, Ms so-and-so, Mrs so-and-so—I see every one of you as the primordial energy of the universe coming on at me in this particular way. I know I’m that, too. But we’ve learned to define ourselves as separate from it. ― Alan Watts

John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.


Implicit Guidebook

Children implicitly absorb language from those around them, but they also absorb culture, beliefs and what it takes to make it in the world. They soak up what helps them get their needs met and prevents them from experiencing pain. They observe others’ experiences and learn vicariously. All of this flows in unconsciously and uncritically. These implicit learnings form the basis of our personality and our subjective perspective, and they write the initial chapters of our “implicit guidebook.” The implicit guidebook is a term I use for our underlying sense of what is right and wrong, how we are to live and our basic construction of how things are. It is our working hypotheses for ourselves and the world. While this sounds cognitive it is really at the essence of our emotional experiences. Because this “book” is implicit, we can’t sit down and read it, show it to others or fully know what has been written on its pages. This guidebook acts as a lens or filter that is as invisible to us as contact lenses can be to the wearer. It both shapes our perception and proves itself true in that shaping.


Yet … the implicit can partially be made explicit. Ironically, understanding that our experience is subjective allows that subjectivity to become an object of our awareness. As we start to notice our inner dialogue, beliefs, rules, assumptions, expectations, etc., we are noticing our guidebook. The challenge is to get just enough space to notice it so we can make it an object of inspection. This happens with dialogue, with meditation, with writing, with contrasting our reality from those close to us and at a distance and in many other unexpected ways. As we engage in this process we may want to pull out our editing tools. We will see much that we want to strike through, many parts to rewrite and some which we will want to highlight or underline.

If only editing was this easy. It is not. This is the mind’s effort to reprogram itself. This is using the minuscule programer that is our conscious self to edit the code within the massive super-computer that is our unconscious. The programer is always vulnerable to being swallowed up by the program before the changes can be saved.

And yet … it can be done.


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Dream World

My assumption is that mind or consciousness is not generated from the brain. I assume the inverse, namely, that the brain (and matter more generally) is an emergent property of consciousness. One might call this a non-materialist perspective since it does not assume that mind can be reduced to matter.  This approach suggests that “matter” and the material world exist within mind or consciousness. It views consciousness as primary over matter; therefore, consciousness is not contained within the body. The “body” is something consciousness generates.


Each of us experiences an intimate model of this every night as we create a world within our consciousness – our dreams. The people, places and things which are our dream objects exist only within our dream consciousness. From our dream self’s perspective, our dream objects seem fairly real and solid albeit with the strange twist of our dreaming physics.

This approach does not mean that we can dismiss the laws of physics in our waking life; nothing practically changes. Objects still feel solid and real, and a fall is still going to hurt. However, it may be an approach that helps better explain the strange physics at the extreme macro and micro ends of the observable universe. It may also open up greater acceptance and understanding of parapsychology’s research. As physicists search for the fundamental building blocks of matter, they aren’t finding them; but they are finding that measurable matter may need consciousness to be realized.

The 1925 discovery of quantum mechanics solved the problem of the Universe’s nature. Bright physicists were again led to believe the unbelievable — this time, that the Universe is mental. According to Sir James Jeans: “the stream of knowledge is heading towards a non-mechanical reality; the Universe begins to look more like a great thought than like a great machine. Mind no longer appears to be an accidental intruder into the realm of matter… we ought rather hail it as the creator and governor of the realm of matter.” But physicists have not yet followed Galileo’s example, and convinced everyone of the wonders of quantum mechanics. As Sir Arthur Eddington explained: “It is difficult for the matter-of-fact physicist to accept the view that the substratum of everything is of mental character.”  (R. C. Henry, “The Mental Universe”; Nature 436:29, 2005)

Our only way of knowing this world continues to be through our five senses, through our observations.  As always, we will continue to experience those observations mentally — through consciousness where all things “really” exist.


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

The Chicken and Egg Dilemma of Mind and Brain

Mind Brain Relationship

I think a lot about the mind and the brain and what the relationship is between these two. Minds have been trying to understand minds for thousands of years, though it is only in recent history that scientists have had the tools to study the brain. Efforts to correlate the mind’s experiences to brain regions have been in high gear. Regions associated with perception, sensation, emotion, cognition, bodily regulation and more have been identified. Most of the neuroscience community makes the assumption, based on these correlations, that mind is a function of the brain — that our mind, our consciousness, is just the subjective experience of our brain function.

Our mind is our subjective experience, and when we experience we objectify that experience. Language allows us to label “objects” and make associations with them that we can then communicate. We generally experience objects as “real” solid things. A brain is one such object that is made up of other labeled objects such as lobes, neurons, neurotransmitters, cells, atoms, etc. Language has associated all of these objects into a cohesive narrative.

The central question is which came first? Does mind create the brain, or does brain create the mind? This is a classic chicken and egg-type problem. With most problems, it is helpful to look at the assumptions we are making. For example, are objects real? Are they solid things? Keeping in mind that some “objects” are intangible, such as our thoughts and feelings, most of the others “feel” real. Realness, however, is only subjectively experienced, like every object within our mind. This is a tricky concept to get our minds around because our minds are, in function, reality generators. It is also tricky because others often communicate, through language their experience of these objects. How do we know there is a “real” world out there? While this is not a new debate, it is not a settled debate.

Culturally and experientially it may seem that the debate is settled, and the world of matter and real objects have won the day. Neuroscience is focused now on trying to understand how the brain generates our consciousness (not the other way around). The predominant assumption is that the brain and matter are primary and mind or consciousness is an emergent property of the brain. While we do know that physical or chemical changes to the brain impact and are correlated with subjective experience, must we conclude that mind is an emergent property of the brain? We also know that when we drop our television on the floor that our audio-visual experience of the television might change. Is the television generating the audio-visual experience? Is mind nothing more than the workings of the brain?


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.