Authors Note: This piece is an effort to explain an earlier philosophical point of mine, the theory of the self. I was inspired to write this after a presentation of mine, based on my essay This Brain Owns Itself, received what appeared to be a very confused response (i.e. a lot of people didn’t get it, either due to the presentation itself, or their own inabilities). This fictional tale takes place within a dream of the young Charles Darwin, who I think is an ideal protagonist in this case. In the tale, Scindomen (literally “split-mind”) explains how the illusion of a unified “self,” or “ego,” arises from a modular brain. The different parts of Scindomen serve as a concrete illustration of different modules acting independently to produce such an illusion, and it is suggested that a similar process occurs within the human brain. Much of this idea comes from the influence of Daniel Dennett, with my own ideas on the subject interspersed. I wanted a very readable story, and the dialectic obviously owes a lot to Plato. In addition to posting this, I want to also show this to several other people directly, as I am thinking of extending the story into a short book. If there is feedback, I would request that the reader include how well the thoughts are expressed. I am quite aware that the content will be unpopular with anyone who believes in free will, substance dualism, or any sort of religion or non-reductionist philosophy.

I.

            It was in a dream I came upon Scindomen, perhaps the most bizarre of beings I have ever encountered. It was along the beach I was walking; the jungle lay about forty feet inward, separated by the ocean with a dark, rich, substance that was not quite soil, and not quite sand. Its texture is unimportant, though an artifact within it struck me as interesting. Something of a beehive, roughly six feet tall and nine feet wide rose up from the beach. The mound looked hollow, and there were crude holes, roughly two dozen in number and about six inches in diameter placed on all sides. The holes appeared to tunnel deeper into the overall structure into some sort of complex catacomb system. I approached slowly, curiously, though cautiously as well, for fear that this structure was home to a being that may not enjoy visitors. I looked the artifact up and down for signs of such an individual, and found an animal, reserved, though not at all frightening peering out of one of the holes. It sauntered out farther, its figure something like that of a crab, at least in its locomotion. It had six legs beneath a rather ovular shell, directly on top of which held a round structure, with two tentacles protruding outwards about an inch with eyes on the ends. This head also had two large antenna, nearly as long as the rest of the body, which was about four inches. Two arms came out of the sides, with strikingly anthropomorphic hands. The entire organism was colored in an extravagant shade of purple. It came about two inches out of the mound, and spoke.

            “Greetings, who might you be?”

            I was a bit taken aback, its speech was a high pitched, and produced from some sort of vocal passage at the very top of the head. Interested, and seeing no threat in such a small and welcoming individual, I drew within about two meters length and slowly sat down.

            “My name Charles,” I replied, peering into the mound. “You have an interesting home; what's your name?”

            The small animal looked a bit puzzled by what I had just said, like I was a foreigner who, obviously needing to relieve myself, had asked if I could use the kettle. It took this in stride.

            “My name is Scindomen,” it asserted, and quickly peddled back into its hole. I leaned forward, looking to see where it had gone, when another of its kind, but bright red in color, grabbed my attention from another opening in the mound. I turned toward the new individual.

            “Hello there, and who might you be?”

            The animal looked even more puzzled than the first, and slightly embarrassed that I had asked the question.

            “I'm sorry, I thought I had introduced myself already,” It hesitated. “My name is Scindomen.”

            I paused, confused as to what had just occurred, though quickly realizing my mistake. I chuckled to myself and explained my error.

            “I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm a bit slow. Well now, you are truly a remarkable individual, Scindomen. How is it that you are able to change color so quickly?”

            This comment, however, seemed to only trouble the small animal more. The look I received was now not of embarrassment, but of the utmost perplexity.

            “I'm not aware that I have any such ability. What leads you to believe this?”

            I sat upright now, and moved uncomfortably in the semi-sandy substance surrounding me, careful in my reply.

            “When I saw you last, you appeared in a very bright shade of purple, and after retreating back, you have come out of this other hole in a striking shade of red. Perhaps my color spectrum is different from your own.”

            Scindomen stared blankly at me for several seconds, trying to figure out just what it was this poor ape was trying to say. Suddenly, a spot of purple was revealed through yet another hole in the mound.

            “I have gone nowhere, Charles,” the original purple one spoke. “I am a sessile animal, you see. I have remained in the same place all my life, and, to my knowledge, not changed at all in color, although I acknowledge that I have both purple and red parts. I could say something similar about yourself.”

            I was stunned, and trying to come to terms with what was being said. Perhaps this was some sort of strange cultural barrier. There were two of them now, each referring to themselves as “Scindomen,” though clearly two distinct individuals. I searched for words.

            “There are two of you?” I scratched my head. “Each of you bears the name Scindomen then?”

            Both animals tried to comprehend what I was saying, each looking for words, though neither ready to speak. At this time, to my surprise, a third of them came through another hole in the mound, this one in bright orange. It began to speak in the same high pitched shrill.

            “Who else are you speaking of? I am the only one here, so far as I can tell. My name is Scindomen, and I don't believe there are others of the same name in this area.”

            “A third!?” I blurted out. “What sort of gag is this? Are you all named 'Scindomen' then? I suppose you'll have me believe there's a whole colony of you there, each with the same name”

            I laughed. The purple one spoke this time.

            “I have no idea what you're talking about. You're speaking as though I were multiplying before your very eyes. Listen here, there is only one of me before you, my name is Scindomen, and I am a sessile organism, bound to the terrain as much as any tree or shrub in the jungle.”

            “How childish this is,” I snapped back. “There are three of you. I can see this as clearly as the beach I'm sitting on. One of you is purple, another red, and the last orange, yet you all insist on being referred to as 'Scindomen.'”

            “That is preposterous!” The red one exclaimed. “Is it your vision that is faulty?”

            “Or is it your brain?” The orange cut him off.

            “Both my vision and brain are fine,” I spoke, slightly aggravated. “I'm looking at all three of you now, and none of you are immobile. Why, you're moving back and forth very quickly through this mound you've constructed.”

            “Listen now,” the orange one spoke. As he began, three more of his kind came out in three distinct hues. One was of the color green, another yellow, and the last blue; they stood peering out at me. “While I certainly have different colored components, there is but one individual before you.”

            “Of course these parts are mobile,” The yellow continued. “For even sessile organisms require movement for metabolism, defense, and various other life processes. Despite the fact that these parts of me may move, I, myself, cannot.”

            “Is this so hard for you to understand?” Asked the purple organism. I paused, and reflected for a moment. There were, it seemed so plain, six fully autonomous organisms in front of me, and each in a different color. These six, however, insisted that they were all the same being. This seems like such a strange mistake to make, for why couldn't one of them realize their individuality, and be freed of this bizarre delusion? This thought struck me, and I made it my goal to convince one of these small animals of the point. Now believing their perceptions to be genuine, however, I allowed myself to engage with them, or it, rather, on its own terms.

            “I apologize for my naivety,” I stated. “You are a very alien being to me though, Scindomen. I would like it very much to learn more about you. Might I come closer to you, and have you teach me more about your nature?”

            “Very well” the red agreed.

            “I rarely get visitors who are as curious as yourself” the blue continued. “I will gladly answer the questions you have.”

            I approached within a meter of the mound. All of the six parts of Scindomen followed my movement and looked at me with 12 independent eyes. I thought about how to begin.

II.

“We are quite different beings, you and I, Scindomen.” I struggled to show my perspective. “You, yourself, are the product of several parts operating independently to produce a single self. I, on the other hand, have no such weaving of components. My actions and discourse flow from a single source.”

“Your assumption is quite strange” Scindomen replied, the yellow part, that is, after several seconds of silence from all six. “Can you not see how flawed such an idea is? Answer me this; that brain of yours, the central organ of thought and command within you, does it not take up length, width, and depth?”

“But of course!”

“And does not such an organ have different components for different functions? Is it not quite absurd to suggest that all thoughts have their origin in but one single point inside your skull?”

I paused, for a moment, then replied.

“Naturally, thought does occur in different areas of the brain, with different thoughts being found in various regions. All of these thoughts, however, are my own; it is I who produce them. They belong to a single entity.”

All six of them fell silent for several seconds. The yellow and blue seemed to pace back and forth, with the others fidgeting to themselves. Finally the blue spoke.

“I believe I see quite clearly the cause of our difference in perspective” The remaining five became still. “Please, if you’ll allow me, I would like to try and convince you that, while we differ significantly in appearance, you and I are not as different of beings as you believe.”

I was startled by this request, being nearly the exact contrary of my own. Revealing a slight grin, which I casually covered with my hand, I nodded my head and told Scindomen to proceed.

“You seem…” the red began to speak, cut off by the yellow. “You seem to suggest that, while thoughts themselves occur in different regions of your brain, these thoughts all flow from a single source, something over and beyond the thoughts themselves; is that correct?”

“Yes … I believe so. I do the thinking; these thoughts all proceed from a single ‘self’” I said, though I confess to never having even suspected of something to the contrary.

“And what reason do you have?” The purple quickly responded, “for assuming the existence of such a self? Why do you believe this self to exist, as opposed to merely acknowledging the thoughts to exist in different parts of the brain.”

“But you’re mistaken!” I replied, now with slightly more confidence. “For if these thoughts were merely to exist, how could I say that they were my own; how could I say things such as I am thinking, I am hungry, I am speaking. Indeed, the very manner of my speech demands a unified self; cogito ergo sum; I think, therefore I am. Hence there must be something unified producing the thought.”

“You are, in fact, quite naïve I’m afraid,” the red startled me by saying. “Please, give the matter some thought, and use me as your example. You have no perception of this self, this I. Why, only a few seconds ago you were claiming thoughts to proceed from a single source; a single self producing thoughts in, you acknowledge, different areas of the brain. Is this not true?”

“Yes, I did say that.”

“But see how shallow such an idea is. For a single source without components, with no spatial dimension, is effectively non-existent, and could not give rise to anything….I take it by your silence that I need to explain this better. Let me ask you, what would you say to me if I were to tell you that all of my thoughts flow from a single source?”

“I would say that you are clearly mistaken. You have six different colored components; there are six of you. When you say ‘your thoughts,’ you cannot be talking about the thoughts of a single individual. There are six independent sources of thought, which all of you for some reason insist on uniting in a single self!”

“Merely six independent sources?” Scindomen replied. “Is it not almost certain that each of these six colored components of me also have parts unto themselves?”

“Well, yes, there must be different parts within each of your six components to serve different functions, but each component, I suspect, possesses a unique self; each of you is suffering some strange delusion.”

“I am under no delusion in regards to what my self is composed, Charles. It is you who are confused.” The purple’s voice seemed calm to me, but at such a high pitch, it was hard to tell. “You, and I suspect most if not all of those of your species, have fallen for a clever illusion of evolution, I’m afraid. You have stood the reality of your own selves on its head; for it is not any self that produces thoughts, but independent thoughts that produce the self. All of them, vying for brief control of that powerful organ above your neck. I am hungry, I am thinking, I am; can you not see? You are not producing such thoughts; there is no you to produce them, nor even a you to receive them. There are only the thoughts, all of them despots for a brief moment over the entire organism believed to be a unified agent. You see this with me more clearly, which confused you. My blue component speaks, followed by my yellow, independent sources, but both weaving themselves into a single self, Scindomen. Likewise, the same occurs in different areas of your brain; a thought from one part rises up, is succeed by another, and another, all in their own moments claiming their rights as ‘Charles.’”

“No!” I raised my voice, becoming frightened by the thoughts. “Impossible, such thoughts would recognize themselves as independent; your parts, should recognize themselves as unique and dissolve such a bizarre arrangement. Such an illusion could never persist.”

“Thoughts recognize themselves as independent? Charles, surely you recognize the contradiction here. There is nothing independent to recognize such a process; such a rebellion cannot take place because there is no one to rebel. What you conceive of as the ego behind the thoughts is a lie.”

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in before continuing.

“What you have learned is merely a starting point though; you have much more to learn, and, under a different form, I will guide you through such revelations, waking you from your delusions.”

“I …”

“Wake up Charles!”

“What?”

“Wake up!”

I awoke in cold sweat.