THE LOOKING GLASS REVISITED
by Ronald Cretchley
1. Consciousness: the need for a new conceptual framework
It has been a recurrent theme over the past few years of the Review that in grappling with ‘consciousness’ we are in need of a fresh approach, a new paradigm.
In order to make the point it will, I hope, be helpful to quote a few relevant passages from past contributors, mainly drawn from the year 2000.
David Hunt (Year 2000 Part II, page 30)
‘I believe that when consciousness is ‘explained’ it won’t fit easily with our everyday experiences. ‘
David Hunt (Year 1997, page 14)
‘When a ‘solution’ is found it cannot be couched in the language of our present physics paradigm.
Verna Muitt (Year 2000, page 30)
‘As David Hunt argues, we may need to formulate new concepts of a subjective nature which will allow us to bridge this gap.’
The ‘gap’ being that which exists between thinking about brain processes and the experience itself.
Phil Rees (Year 2000, page 31)
‘My point is that while consciousness may be grounded in some physical goings on in the brain, it cannot be literally identified with those goings on --- it is a different category of thing’.
Andrew Dalkin (Year 2000, page 34)
Of physical goings on in the brain and mental experiences:-
‘They are such different sorts of thing that it is impossible to imagine how one could be reduced to the other.’
Ranjit Banerji (Year 2000, page 36)
‘Even when the technicians have done their bit we will feel that third person explanations don’t explain first person feelings, unless a new paradigm shows us how to be objective about the subjective.’
Ted Honderich (Year 2000, page 38)
‘I couldn’t agree more than with Verna Muitt when she says we need to formulate some new concepts in order to deal with consciousness or anyway approach the question in a radically different way.’
‘The current philosophy of mind, in so far as consciousness is concerned, is up the spout. Some departure from it is very clearly necessary.’
And outside the context of the Review there have been many similar affirmations made. At the Alpbach Symposium, thirty or so years ago, and in pursuit of new insights to relate mind and brain, Ludwig von Bertalanffy 1 said:-
‘We need a general conceptual framework which transcends that of traditional science.’
Over the past ten years, through the medium of the Oxford Philosophical Review, I have made various excursions into essay-writing, always with the same goal, namely to ague that there is a conceptual shift possible that may lead to a solution of the ‘hard problem’. I am convinced that with all the impressive philosophical effort and associated ‘brain’ investigations over the past fifty years we are as far away as ever from finding a solution by means of a conventional conceptual approach. For instance, the AI mind (as typified by Daniel Dennett(2)) seems so materially committed that it cannot be expected to become disentangled from its ‘conceptual web’ even to conceive of the possibility of, or need for, a conceptual shift. Why abandon a paradigm that is perceived entire and self-sufficient?
It is therefore heartening for me personally to find myself in the company of a not insignificant group who believe that fresh insights are overdue.
3. The refractory nature of qualia
The glaringly obvious pointer that should direct our gaze away from science as a paradigm for understanding consciousness is the refusal of qualia to be taken under its wing. Locke put qualia at the end of the ‘enquiry queue’ by designating them as secondary, but they refuse to go away. Qualia are very much an essential part of experience.
All experience is in the first place subjective, and whether or not it falls into the various disciplines of science or the humanities, what results is a conceptual transformation of the subjective. What we make of subjective experience is dependent upon the symbolic transformations and subsequent intellectual strategies that we marshal.
Mankind has never found the subjective and the objective easy to reconcile. It seems inherent in our nature to allow intellect to dominate the prime experience from which it is derived. Having extracted some degree of law and order from an overwhelming cavalcade of impressions, the impulse seems to be to demote subjectivity to a secondary order, or to dismiss it as mere ‘froth on the surface of matter’. Other more persistent minds strive to rationalise or ‘reduce’ subjectivity; to bring it into the intellectual strategy of science. So far this attempt has been met with frustration. The conceptual tool-kit of science has been found wanting. Some, like performers in a ‘Waiting for Godot’ production, keep hoping for a ‘saving concept’ to make its appearance. Others resort to the fuzziness of quantum or chaos theory, believing that ‘subjectivity’ might be lurking in them.
But our subjectivity is by no means fuzzy. On the contrary, it is real, vivid, and monumental in its impact. It is the scent of a rose, the sight of a rainbow in the sky, the taste of a ripe peach. Subjectivity dominates our awareness and renders talk of the olfactory organ, spectroscopy, and taste buds of marginal interest in the existential context.
4. The falling-short of physics
Looking to physics for metaphysical enlightenment is, as one might expect, a forlorn hope. The most we might expect from physicists is an admission of the incompleteness of their picture. This we have in plenty, either admitted or implicitly acknowledged.
John Polkinghorne 3 refers to quantum theory thus:-
‘Essentially, we do not understand how the quantum world and the everyday world interlock with each other.’
Then there’s Ted Honderich’s rather scathing dismissal of the theory:-
‘The mystery of consciousness is not going to be clarified by the yet more confused mystery of Quantum Theory. It’s time we stopped being respectful of what is, in fact, just a conceptual mess.’
There is, too, a gulf between the ‘world of relativity’ and the ‘quantum world’.
Calling in the aid of Chaos Theory suggests an additional factor at work other than energy exchange, but just how ‘strange attractors’ might shed light on the physical aspects of consciousness is, at present, hidden from us.
It is, I submit, intuition that puts the meta into metaphysics. The tail cannot wag the dog. We should not expect the concepts of physics which have resulted from enigmatic subjective processes in our nervous system to explain the source from which they are derived.
5. Does matter stuff create mind stuff?
For many, the ‘hard-problem’ subsists in the expectation of an answer to the question: How does matter stuff create mind stuff? It is taken as axiomatic that whatever the brain consists of physically it must create consciousness.
To quote the Victorian writer, George MacDonald 4:-
‘The man who believes that thought is the result of brain, and not the growth of an unknown seed whose soil is the brain --- is to himself but a peck of dust that has to be eaten by the devouring jaws of Time.’
This causes me to ponder upon the word ‘create’; what does it mean in the context of the above question? Theologians speak of God creating ‘out of nothing’. Cosmologists refer to the Big Bang as a singularity which seems to have some affinity with creation ‘out of nothing’. But when it is said that the brain creates mind stuff, namely ‘consciousness’, it is, I think, implied that the complex aggregate of grey-matter, the brain, generates something we associate with subjective experience. It is noticeable that the possibility of mind stuff creating matter stuff rarely arises.
The primary role of matter is assumed to be axiomatic. But if matter stuff is supposed to create mind stuff, in what sense is the word ‘create’ being used? There are two fundamentally different usages for the words ‘create’ and ‘generate’:-
a) To bring into existence, originate, beget, procreate.
b) To instigate heat, force, light, electricity, etc. In this, an energy exchange takes place; e.g. the rotary motion of a generator produces electricity by the conversion of mechanical into electrical energy.
When an ovum and a sperm unite a unique life-form is originated. George MacDonald clearly believes that mind stuff is originated. He uses the organic metaphor of an unknown seed germinating and growing through the agency or medium of a congenial soil. This metaphor escapes the question-begging use of create… a causal relationship is avoided. The mind-body problem, so far, appears to be refractory because no understandable physical exchange can be envisaged between the electro-chemical energy of the active brain and the subjective experience we call mind.
MacDonald’s organic metaphor, I believe, offers a fresh approach. It introduces the idea of form-exchange. In the process of physical begetting, shifting forms and patterns are involved in addition to energy exchanges. I suggest the same is true of brain function, and that a consideration of form-exchange might be fruitful in tackling the ‘hard problem’. What makes the problem hard is the fact that the enigmatic ‘I’ is involved: the ‘I’ of ‘I observe, conceptualize and analyze’, and the ‘I’ of ‘I feel’. Are they one and the same? Unless we can be sure of this ‘I’, this self-identity, then the problem will slip and slide like an eel.
In my 1993 Philosophical Society Review essay 5 I attempted to shed some light upon the nature of ‘self’. In so doing the notion of form-exchange was introduced. At this point it might be helpful to present a brief summary of the ideas contained in this essay. It should be understood that an attempt is being made to offer a metaphor for how we find ourselves in the philosophically perplexing state of objective knowledge, and subjective sensation and feelings, respectively.
6. The looking-glass revisited
A real-self in the real-world is looking into a mirror at the other-self in the other-world: the looking-glass world. What the other-self does is dictated by the real-self, yet the other-self is better known (as a self) than the real-self which, being the observer, does not see itself.
The other-world is derived from the real-world inasmuch as the other-self is made possible by a special part [the brain*] of the real-world. The whole of the other-world is contained in [is symbolized by] that part of the real-world which is the mirror [the real-self’s brain].
The other-self explores its other-world but cannot be aware of itself as an observing self. Only the real-self is conscious of the other-self since the real-self occupies both worlds.
If I complete the other-world by offering a mirror for the other-self to look into [allow the symbolic world to symbolize itself], I, the real-self, proliferate an infinite series of other-selves to populate an infinite series of other worlds [the real-self knows the world of the other-self to be illusory … a regressive paradox of serial universes].
The bracketed items [*] are intended to show that the looking-glass metaphor relates directly to our experience, namely that a form-exchange takes place in our awareness involving two selves.
The metaphor suggests that:-
The existentially aware real-self that enjoys a felt reality in the real-world is not conscious of self.
The other-self is made possible by a special part of the real-world. The whole of the other-world is contained in that part of the real-world which serves as a mirror or symbolizing agent. This mirrored world is analogous to the conceptually-mapped world of discursive thought.
An infinite regress exists in the other-world for the other-self, but the real-self knows it to be an illusion.
The real-self looking at the other-self and reflecting upon it in the context of the other-world is analogous to the self-conscious thinking state.
Only one mode of awareness is possible at a time.
There is a knower that both experiences, and is conceptually conscious of that experience.
7. On the nature of symbols
It is suggested that the looking-glass metaphor offers an insight into the duality of our awareness: the objective and subjective worlds; the worlds in which science analyzes, and poetry synthesizes.
The metaphor suggests that discursive thought reduces part of our experience to a closed system delineated by the concepts employed. It is the other-self within his other-world that confines experience within an illusory and mirrored world, illusory because the concepts contained therein are symbols of something else, the real-world.
Susanne Langer 6 writes:
‘A symbol is understood when we conceive the idea it presents’.
A symbol presents or indicates an idea to which it points. I, the real-self, have to supply the meaning.
The looking-glass suggests that within the closed system itself (the other-world), paradox occurs. The paradox results from a contravention of Tarski’s principle concerning a self-referential statement. In such a statement an attempt is made to impose upon symbols the impossible role of pseudo-consciousness, but I, the real-self, am the sole custodian of meaning. When consciousness is projected in such a way that the symbols seem to be speaking of the semantic content of which they are the vehicle, paradox results. In the pseudomenon, ‘This statement is false’, the words ‘This statement’ symbolize the whole statement in which they are embedded. This results in the condition that leads to infinite regress, the first term of the series being: ‘The statement, “this statement is false”, is false’.
As has been described, offering a mirror to the other-self in his other-world results in an infinite reflection of self-symbols.
The exact sciences are concerned with the relationships that hold between conceptual symbols. Within this closed system the observer himself is absent. It is the arena of analytical, objective thought in which the observing thinker is removed.
The sense of self (the inclusion of an observer) connotes a leap from objective thought to a felt state of awareness in a ‘real world’ of existential content. When listening to music we unconsciously make such a leap. Ideally, we respond to music existentially through our feelings, and only secondarily, analytically. We leap from conceptual thought to an engagement of feeling.
Art presents us with images of experience in which the representation of feelings plays an essential part. An image is something which resembles something else, and stands for it because of this resemblance. In other words it is an analogue. Art raises us to the level of felt-knowledge; we not only feel things about experience, we also have knowledge of it.
The picture that emerges is that a ‘perceptual world’ is created which is a symbolic representation of a ‘real (physical) world’. In this process two modes of symbolic transformation play their part:
Science employs symbols to translate perceptually experience into a statement which concerns the structure and activity of the ‘real world’.
Art communicates another form of knowledge. It employs symbols to form an image of an experience (which constitutes objects, thoughts and feelings), and through the image the meaning of that experience is conveyed.
What is common to both symbolic representations is pattern or form. In science there is a congruence of pattern apprehended intellectually. In art there is a congruence of pattern felt intuitively.
Structure is the basis of scientific knowledge.
Feelings are the basis of artistic knowledge.
Science offers one interpretation of sensory experience. Its propositions are taken to be literally true.
Artistic creation is the expression of thoughts and feelings related to an experience. Its imagery is analogically true.
8. The implications of symbolization
To summarize: the looking-glass metaphor informs us that what is other than (outside of) the symbolic world as mapped in the brain, the other-world, is the subjective, feeling self (the real-self).
The postulate is that by virtue of this feeling self the symbolizing is performed. This takes two forms:-
In science, perceptual (sensory) experience is translated into symbolic structures of related scientific concepts.
In art, symbols form images of experience (feelings and related thoughts).
The real-self performs these two activities through the medium of the neural net. Neural activity may be regarded as giving rise retrospectively to an awareness of that symbol-initiating consciousness of the real-self.
The pseudo-self (other-self) is a symbolic self about which the symbolic world (other-world) is oriented.
There is a subjective state, a moment of insight, which is uniquely vivid. It is coincident with form-fixing in the neural net. Subsequent neural net excitation (initiated by the other-self) simulates the initial act of form-fixing that established path-creation.
A moment of insight cannot be invoked by an act of will, i.e. through the voluntary agency of the other-self.
Pattern is the essential ingredient of meaning for the real-self. At the moment of insight meaning is acquired. Post-insight activity connotes time for the other-self which gives rise to the illusion of a flux of events.
It is when I (the real-self) become conscious of my consciousness that the world of ideas is invoked. Exploration of the neural net for common forms enables creative activity. Common forms of abstract concepts facilitate the growth of scientific paradigms. Common forms of images through metaphor facilitate artistic expression.
What is common to all subjective encounters which are subsequently transformed into spatio-temporal concepts or imagery, is form.
Form is that by which the ‘I’ becomes meaningfully informed.
9. Beyond the symbol
a) The subjective-objective interface
There are indicators that suggest limitations of the conceptually mapped world. The primary indicator is the recognition of a subjective-objective interface; on one side of which is a real-self, on the other, the symbolic world of its resident other-self. The whole of the other world (a conceptually mapped world) is contained in that part of the real-world (the brain) which serves as a mirror or symbolic picture of the real-world.
This is analogous to a radar transmitter-receiver system that displays a symbolic representation of the environment in which it operates. What is on the radar display is oriented about a fixed point, the transmitter. When the human operator is absent the display has no intrinsic meaning. Similarly our scientifically derived conceptual map excludes the observer who gives it meaning. In both cases (the human central nervous system and the radar system), there is an additional factor outside the symbol-system which initiates the system itself, and which interprets the symbolism produced by it.
b) Science is fuelled by the mystery of consciousness
Einstein pondered the question: ‘Why is the world so understandable? How is it that we, the ‘higher ape’, are able to do science at all; from whence do we get this marvellous ability to understand things?’
Our existence is riddled with mystery: why consciousness? Why do mathematicians look for beautiful equations? What is the common bond between reason within (the mathematics in our heads), and the reason without (the structure of the physical world)?
There is pattern in the universe. We know this because consciousness is responsive to pattern. We observe and experience first, and then perform mysterious (because not amenable to analysis) processes of rationality upon that experience which prompt experimentation.
Between observation and experimentation there is ‘reason in our heads’. There could be no discernment of structure in the physical world unless the inner-self possessed the meaning of pattern.
c) Information and meaning
If one focuses upon information, then meaning is eclipsed, and vice versa. Information theory says nothing whatever about meaning. I see this relationship as an aspect or restatement of the great divide between the objective and subjective. The unravelling of the double helix and the cracking of the genome are concerned with information and coding. It is the scientific practitioners themselves who apply meaning to the code-structure. There is a complex syntax observable in molecular structures, but how is this translated into the realm of the semantic?
Behind genes, nerve cells, microtubules, resides potential meaning which we raise to consciousness. We alone are able to live in the two worlds of ‘information’, (objective, syntactical, conceptual), and ‘meaning’ (subjective, semantic, intuitive).
d) The nature of metaphor; the function of a symbol
Paul Dirac, by means of quantum field theory, was able to show how light could give a wave-like answer if you asked a wave-like question, or a particle-like answer if you asked a particle-like question.
I suspect that Dirac found two sets of mathematical expressions that are compatible with our experience of light: that if one analogy is applied, say particle, to light, then a satisfactorily coherent set of equations results. But to say that a metaphor or analogy for an experience is to serve as knowledge of the substance of that experience is to go too far. It is to misunderstand the nature of metaphor, and the function of a symbol.
Professor Dingle 7, last century, wrote:-
‘We postulate material objects, and to explain how they reveal themselves to our senses we postulate light. But something whose basic function [as a concept] it is to reveal material objects cannot itself be a material object, or we should want another something to reveal it, and so on ad infinitum’.
This is an example of the endless regress peculiar to the (space-time) ‘looking-glass’ world when it attempts to look at itself.
Light is invoked as an ‘explanatory concept’; it is neither particle nor wave. To endow light with the attributes of material objects is to plunge scientific enquiry into an inevitable regress of questions.
Dingle also wrote;-
‘The manner in which we rationalize experience will depend on the purpose for which the rationalization is made’.
I interpret this as: if we try to rationalize our experience of light in terms of a mathematical model compatible with particles then we inevitably impose that model (metaphor) upon our experience.
Particle is a concept drawn from tiny objects of experience, e.g. dust-particles, to explain objects. If, like the concept of light, it is ‘made to chase its tail’, regress results.
Light is an axiom; it defies rationalization. Through metaphor we may take a symbolic path to ‘knowledge’. Intuitively, through experience of light, we have direct knowledge of it.
e) The persistence of form
Simon C. Morris 8 repeatedly refers to the persistence of form in evolutionary phenomena. In his rather oblique phrases he suggests that an ‘influence’ is being exerted upon living things for this persistence of form to obtain. For instance he points to convergence as possibly due to organisms ‘under constant scrutiny of natural selection’. This suggests a controlling element at work. In contrast to the idea of constant controlling scrutiny he refers elsewhere to biological form stumbling on the same solution to a problem as if by accident. Elsewhere he declares that investigators ‘have almost no idea how form actually emerges from the genetic code’.
That biological forms repeat, persist, and reach their goal seems to be supported by the evidence. The problem is finding a mechanism by virtue of which genes are guided through their paths of morphological evolution. This is a question not only for the ‘fossil record’, but also for embryonic development.
Reginald Kapp (9) postulated that that which exercises control cannot exert a force, and that which exerts a force cannot exert control. This is related to the notion of a duality of energy-exchange and form-exchange.
Kapp invoked the concept of diathete: an influence without location (i.e. not material) which acts on living substance to cause random forces to produce an ordered (i.e. controlled) result. The prototype of all diathetous activity seems to be selection of the moments in time when specific events are allowed or caused to happen.
The idea of ‘selection of moments’ for events to occur is precisely the form-defining activity upon which evolutionary convergence depends. The phrase ‘cause to happen’ is, it must be emphasized, not the causation of physics which involves energy-exchange.
Rupert Sheldrake 10 makes the same distinctions as Kapp. He is careful to differentiate between causation of the energetic type, and what he calls ‘formative causation’. For Sheldrake, morphogenetic fields are performing the same function as Kapp’s diathetic activity. He writes: ‘Although morphogenetic fields can only bring about their effects in conjunction with energetic processes, they are not themselves energetic’.
Sheldrake relates constancy and repetition of forms to the association of the same type of morphogenetic field with a given type of physical-chemical system. The field is external, by which is meant not part of the physical system itself. He likens this field (influence) to the Platonic idea of form in external and eternal fixity, and not solely to the physical context of energetic causation.
Sir Roger Penrose11 appears to be sustained in some of his speculations by a Platonic philosophy. In particular, in his quest for an elucidation of the mind-body problem he has focused upon the microtubules contained in the brain cells as the seat of mind ‘activity’ imposed upon the central nervous system. What is interesting is that Sheldrake has (we presume independently) also singled out microtubules as likely agents of interaction. He asks: ‘If the spatial distribution of microtubules is responsible for the patterning of many different sorts of process and structure within cells (and he gives evidence of this), then what controls the spatial distribution of microtubules?’ He perceives that within the physical context this question invites an infinite regress. Sooner or later, he concludes, something else has to account for the emergence of pattern in which the microtubules aggregate. The hypothesis he offers is that pattern is due to the action of specific morphogenetic fields.
f) Dual causation in living systems.
Simon Morris comments on how abundant are the records of evolutionists expressing amazement, even awe, at the way in which in evolution the same solution to a problem (in terms of biological form) is stumble upon via different routes.
The question is: is there a problem at all, and is the process a ‘stumbling one’? Long time-spans reflect the appearance of a laboured, stumbling search for a solution. So inured are many with the notion of ‘blind mechanism’ at work, that when forms repeat, amazement is an understandable response.
In the best sense of the word I suggest that what is happening is magical, i.e .it is extra (or meta) physical. The postulate of formative causation is that of a hidden influence at work; ‘natural selection under constant scrutiny’ by a form-defining influence imposed upon the physical, but not of it.
The attribute of form as, for instance, that displayed by a crystal, has been confused with formative causation. The molecular structure of a crystal is entirely a matter of energetic causation and molecular bonding. What is unique about formative causation is that it displays the emergence of pattern from a widely varied physical context. The phrase ‘convergence of forms’ refers to the way in which animals and plants can come to resemble each other despite having evolved from very different ancestors. This persistence of form in the context of a variety of physical environments is quite unlike the persistence of crystal form which requires precise and critically defined physical conditions.
g) Making a case for the soul
‘Reductionism’, C.H.Waddington 12 says, ‘operates most drastically when you go from the existent world (what I have called the real-world) to any sort of conceptualization’ (my other-world).
Analytical thought is always a narrowed down, restricted conceptual view of the intuitively perceived, holistic, open-ended real-world. The very framework of a paradigm puts a fence around the phenomena being scrutinised.
The hardened materialist is not reading the code correctly. Things are literally things for him, so that he cheats himself of their underlying significance.
When the intuitive, real-self is exercised we apprehend meaning through symbolism. In religious terms the real-self is the spiritual self which transcends the physical self. The word soul has traditionally been reserved for the spiritual self which grasps the essential mystery of matter, and which thereby engages with the ground of its being.
The mind-body problem has so far appeared to be refractory because no understandable physical exchange can be envisaged between the electro-chemical energy of the active brain and the subjective experience we call mind. This deadlock has prompted the belief by some that something beyond physical goings-on must be entertained.
This belief is supported by the following:
a) The refusal of qualia to be subsumed by science.
b) The fact that subjectivity cannot be rationalized, neither can it be relegated to a subordinate position. It is not fuzzy.
c) Experience is first and foremost subjective, i.e. analytical thought follows it. This is totally the case in early infancy.
d) Neither quantum nor chaos theory, nor any theories of perception, have so far offered an explanation.
The moment I attempt to objectify and analyze what ‘I’ am doing in respect of my neural equipment I find myself in an intellectual impasse from which it is impossible to extricate myself.
The idea that has been developed is that of mind-stuff being originated from outside the brain rather than generated by it.
In the context of an organic metaphor involving the notion of form-exchange it has been suggested that we shift from an ‘I’ that feels to an ‘I’ that symbolizes.
The metaphor employed to further this idea is that of a seed sown: a concept or image is perceptually received into consciousness in a moment of insight that combines a certainty of meaning with a feeling of creative joy (the ah-ha! moment). This is a felt, intuitive awareness of our real-self. The seed germinates and grows in the ‘congenial soil’ of the central nervous system …. a form-defining influence, it has been suggested, interacts at the microtubule level to control subsequent neural path growth. This metaphor escapes the question-begging use of the word create.
Those who discount the use of metaphor should ponder on the fact that for this ultimate and hard problem, no other approach may be possible. The mechanistic explanation so dearly wished for by many may, as I suspect, be inappropriate.
Metaphor is finding form-likeness; a reaching out from symbolism to its nameless source.
1. Ludwig von Bertalanffy in: Beyond Reductionism edited by Arthur Koestler and J.R.Smythies, Hutchinson, 1969.
2. Daniel C. Dennett: Consciousness Explained. Penguin Books, 1993.
3. John Polkinghorne: Quarks, Chaos and Christianity. Triangle, 1994.
4. George MacDonald: Wilfrid Cumbermede. Strahan and Co., 1873.
5. Ronald Cretchley: Through the Looking Glass. Philosophical Society Review, 1993.
6. Susanne K Langer: Feeling and Form. Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1953
7. Herbert Dingle: The Scientific Adventure. Philosophical Library NY
8. Simon Conway Morris: The Crucible of Creation, OUP, 1998.
9. Reginald Kapp: Mind, Life and Body, Constable, 1951.
10. Rupert Sheldrake: A New Science of Life, Paladin, Granada, 1981.
11. Roger Penrose: The Emperor’s New Mind, OUP Vintage, 1989.
12. C.H. Waddington in Beyond Reductionism edited by Arthur Koestler and J.R.Smythies, Hutchinson, 1969.