The usual formulation of the Mary’s Room thought experiment makes a very strong assumption about what Mary knows while in the room: that she has a complete understanding of every physical and physiological process that happens when she is looking at things. This of course goes way beyond what any real human being has.
With this assumption, I claim that Mary would already know that there are such things as the qualia of seeing red; she wouldn’t need convincing. And she would already know quite a lot about those qualia; e.g., if seeing red tends to increase physiological arousal and spark thoughts of love, anger and serious physical injury then she would know that.
(This argument is not original to me; I found it in a book by Daniel Dennett.)
Without that assumption, some arguments based on the thought experiment (e.g., ones claiming that qualia have to be something nonphysical) collapse. Probably not yours, though, because for your purposes it doesn’t matter whether Mary understands anything at all about colour vision; I think you get a better example of experiences that might not be conveyable in text if we suppose she doesn’t.
Still… it seems like one could convey at least some aspects—though certainly not all—of the experience of seeing red through text, even to someone who had never had that experience. Along the following lines. “At present, your eyes give you a picture of the world that could be described by saying for everything how bright it is. Other people—perhaps including you, some day—get more information from their eyes than that: for each location in their visual field, not just a brightness but something else called colour. Different objects have different colours, so this lets us distinguish more things about them than you can from brightness alone. One kind of colour is called “red”, and it turns out that our brains respond in interesting ways to red things. Red is the colour of a liquid called blood that we have inside us. When your body is badly enough damaged, blood may flow out. That’s bad news, and seeing red makes your brain prepare a little bit to fight or run away: it gives you a little of the feeling you might have if you imagine that there’s a tiger just around the corner waiting to jump on you. Most people’s skin is slightly reddish in colour, especially when they are embarrassed or excited, and perhaps for that reason red is also associated in most people’s minds with love and sex. Seeing red may make your brain prepare a little bit for a romantic or sexual encounter: it gives you a little of the feeling you might have if you imagine that someone you find very attractive is just around the corner waiting to kiss you. When there’s something bright red in your field of view, your eyes will tend to be attracted by it, and distract your attention from other things. In our culture, red is associated with fighting and celebration and love and danger and urgency. The colour red is a bit like the sound of a trumpet fanfare, and a bit like the feel of either a warm embrace or a slap in the face.”
Hearing all that (and the much more that one could say on the same theme) isn’t the same as actually having the experience of seeing red, for sure. But I think someone who had never seen the colour red would know more about what seeing red is like after reading a few paragraphs of that sort of thing. They’d have some information about specific effects it might have; some analogies to other things they might be familiar with; some understanding of why those effects might be there, which might help them predict other effects; some information about ideas and feelings and images that people associate with redness.
Fair point. The version of the Mary’s room setup that’s relevant to this discussion is where Mary knows everything about color vision that could be transmitted via text, e.g. the best and most comprehensive possible textbook on color vision.
I agree that I could describe my experience of red to Mary, but if Mary is skeptical / doesn’t trust me to report my experiences honestly I don’t know how I could convince her of anything, really.
It seems you’re very concerned about being thought a liar or a fake if you say more about your experiences. (E.g., you bring that up here, but so far as I can see no one in this thread has been suggesting anything of the kind.) Is there a particular reason for that?
(For the avoidance of doubt, I think it very unlikely that what you’re saying—or indeed what you’re avoiding saying—is lies or fakery.)
Mostly the response to the Kensho thread. Also some common knowledge thing along the lines of, I don’t want to make strong claims on the basis of weak evidence because I don’t want people to think I think other people have or should have weak epistemic standards.
The usual formulation of the Mary’s Room thought experiment makes a very strong assumption about what Mary knows while in the room: that she has a complete understanding of every physical and physiological process that happens when she is looking at things. This of course goes way beyond what any real human being has.
With this assumption, I claim that Mary would already know that there are such things as the qualia of seeing red; she wouldn’t need convincing. And she would already know quite a lot about those qualia; e.g., if seeing red tends to increase physiological arousal and spark thoughts of love, anger and serious physical injury then she would know that.
(This argument is not original to me; I found it in a book by Daniel Dennett.)
Without that assumption, some arguments based on the thought experiment (e.g., ones claiming that qualia have to be something nonphysical) collapse. Probably not yours, though, because for your purposes it doesn’t matter whether Mary understands anything at all about colour vision; I think you get a better example of experiences that might not be conveyable in text if we suppose she doesn’t.
Still… it seems like one could convey at least some aspects—though certainly not all—of the experience of seeing red through text, even to someone who had never had that experience. Along the following lines. “At present, your eyes give you a picture of the world that could be described by saying for everything how bright it is. Other people—perhaps including you, some day—get more information from their eyes than that: for each location in their visual field, not just a brightness but something else called colour. Different objects have different colours, so this lets us distinguish more things about them than you can from brightness alone. One kind of colour is called “red”, and it turns out that our brains respond in interesting ways to red things. Red is the colour of a liquid called blood that we have inside us. When your body is badly enough damaged, blood may flow out. That’s bad news, and seeing red makes your brain prepare a little bit to fight or run away: it gives you a little of the feeling you might have if you imagine that there’s a tiger just around the corner waiting to jump on you. Most people’s skin is slightly reddish in colour, especially when they are embarrassed or excited, and perhaps for that reason red is also associated in most people’s minds with love and sex. Seeing red may make your brain prepare a little bit for a romantic or sexual encounter: it gives you a little of the feeling you might have if you imagine that someone you find very attractive is just around the corner waiting to kiss you. When there’s something bright red in your field of view, your eyes will tend to be attracted by it, and distract your attention from other things. In our culture, red is associated with fighting and celebration and love and danger and urgency. The colour red is a bit like the sound of a trumpet fanfare, and a bit like the feel of either a warm embrace or a slap in the face.”
Hearing all that (and the much more that one could say on the same theme) isn’t the same as actually having the experience of seeing red, for sure. But I think someone who had never seen the colour red would know more about what seeing red is like after reading a few paragraphs of that sort of thing. They’d have some information about specific effects it might have; some analogies to other things they might be familiar with; some understanding of why those effects might be there, which might help them predict other effects; some information about ideas and feelings and images that people associate with redness.
Fair point. The version of the Mary’s room setup that’s relevant to this discussion is where Mary knows everything about color vision that could be transmitted via text, e.g. the best and most comprehensive possible textbook on color vision.
I agree that I could describe my experience of red to Mary, but if Mary is skeptical / doesn’t trust me to report my experiences honestly I don’t know how I could convince her of anything, really.
It seems you’re very concerned about being thought a liar or a fake if you say more about your experiences. (E.g., you bring that up here, but so far as I can see no one in this thread has been suggesting anything of the kind.) Is there a particular reason for that?
(For the avoidance of doubt, I think it very unlikely that what you’re saying—or indeed what you’re avoiding saying—is lies or fakery.)
Mostly the response to the Kensho thread. Also some common knowledge thing along the lines of, I don’t want to make strong claims on the basis of weak evidence because I don’t want people to think I think other people have or should have weak epistemic standards.