Emergence

A thought experiment: let's imagine a simple universe.

Suppose only one thing exists in this universe. What is it like? Well, there isn't anything to compare it to, so it's like nothing. How big? There isn't anything to measure it with, so don't ask. Is it moving? Silly question; moving relative to a nonexistent what? 

Suppose only two things exist. What are they like? Well, either they are like each other or they are not. For example, either one thing is bigger or they are the same. Are they moving? Maybe or perhaps not. Similarity and movement are new features of this reality just because it contains a second thing. 

So when we put things together we get something extra in the form of properties that were not there before. One thing plus one thing is more than two things; it is two things plus a bunch of new properties. Also two things plus one thing is more than three things, and so on. Getting something extra when things are added is called emergence. 

Imagine we keep adding things to reality until it includes atoms, molecules, living organisms, planets, stars, black holes, galaxies, galactic clusters, everything. After nearly 14 billion years of things interacting in this universe, the emergent complexity in a certain collection of a billion billion billion atoms produces me, my thoughts, my words, and this over-simplified story that I have just told you.

Yes, the story itself is an emergent property of about 100,000,000,000 interacting neurons, which are part of a living body with about 30,000,000,000,000 cells. The neural network between my ears deals with complexity by taking things apart and examining the bits. If the bits are too complex, they get taken apart more, and so on, until they reach a level of simplicity that is understood.  An explanation works by leaving things out to make reality thinkable. So I understand me in terms of my bits. But something is missing. I am more than a billion billion billion atoms; the extra left out of the explanation is all the interesting stuff. We have to put things back together to recover the extra stuff even though it is more difficult to understand.

Now let's continue this exercise at even higher levels of organization. Imagine a reality in which only I exist, no other people. What is going on between my ears? There are no words because there is no need to explain because there is nobody to hear the explanation. Since there are no words, there are no meaningful statements such as "only I exist", and there isn't much thinking going on.

If there are two persons, something extra emerges. I see you and you see me and we imagine each other's thoughts and are moved to communicate, so we invent language. Excuse me for simplifying. Awareness of the other, shared feelings, language, knowledge, reason, wisdom, all of that and more is the subject of many long chapters in the story of human emergence with layer upon layer of extra stuff appearing while neurons are added and organized into nodes, modules, hubs, and clubs, busily modelling and managing the rich experience of human interaction.

The moral of the story is that the neural network between my ears, which is where "I" live, would not be self-aware in the absence of another. You and all of the others define me, and together we are more. Thanks, much appreciated. I owe you.