Science, Materialism, Mysticism

New Trends in Biological Theory and

Psycho-physiology

Some Scientific Approaches Towards Sri Aurobindo's Vision

1

Perhaps the most interesting finger-post in recent science to the presence, in general, of a psychic energy in evolution such as Sri Aurobindo discerns as ascending to homo sapiens and pointing beyond him has been put up by the English biologist. Sir Alister Hardy.

The import of Hardy's most impressive book. The Living Stream, based on his first series of Gifford Lectures, is twofold. It lies not only in suggesting at the end more persuasively than ever before a background of psychism to the evolutionary process, which sets this process ascending in the midst of the energy modem Darwinism reckons with in the play of random-seeming genetic mutation and in the work of natural selection upon this material to bring about the survival and propagation of the forms best adapted by heredity to the environment. The import lies also in proving psychism to be in action in the very forefront of evolving life. Hardy's pre-eminent stand comes out in the words: "My 'vitalism' is a belief that there is a psychic side of the animal which, apart from inherited instinctive behaviour, may be independent of the DNA code [of the genes] that governs the form of the physical frame but that it may interact with the physical system in the evolutionary process through organic selection.'"

"Organic selection" or, as Hardy prefers on the whole to say, "behavioural selection" means in the simplest terms:

If a population of animals should change their habits (no doubt often on account of changes in their surroundings such as food supply, breeding sites, etc., but also

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sometimes due to their exploratory curiosity discovering new ways of life, such as new sources of food or new methods of exploitation) then, sooner or later, variations in the gene complex will turn up in the population to produce small alterations in the animal's structure which will make them more efficient in relation to their new behaviour pattern; these more efficient individuals will tend to survive rather than the less efficient, and so the composition of the population will gradually change. This evolutionary change is one caused initially by a change of behaviour.2

Hardy does not claim to have discovered behavioural selection. It has been a fact long admitted. Julian Huxley in his Evolution, A Modern Synthesis (London, 1942) refers to it twice (pp. 304, 523), mentioning the original enunciation of it by three early biologists: Baldwin (1896, 1902), Osborne (1897) and Lloyd Morgan (1900). At the end of his second reference he remarks: "The principle is an important one which would appear to have been unduly neglected by recent evolutionists."3 G. G. Simpson too has a general review of it and puts his finger on the cause for the neglect of the ideas described as the "Baldwin Effect": they were put forward "shortly before the rediscovery of Mendelism gave a radically different turn to biological thought."4 Many biologists dismiss the "Baldwin Effect" as of minor value. Even Huxley, though granting importance to it, does not dwell on it. Hardy makes it his central thesis and illustrates it with many examples culled by himself, as well as with the corroborative researches of Dr. R. F. Ewer and C. H. Waddington and numerous contributory studies like those of Sidnie Manton, J. W. L. Beament, J. M. Thoday and W. H. Thorpe. From his demonstration behavioural selection emerges not as a mere subsidiary effect but as a major or perhaps the most operative factor whereby the species is to a gre31 extent the master of its fate. Linked with this demonstration is the array of the diverse problems which raise difficulties

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for the accepted theory of the mechanism of evolution.

Most surprisingly, Jacques Monod, the foremost apostle of "chance" in genetics, displays keen appreciation of Hardy's standpoint without naming him. We find him writing:

...the selective pressures exerted by outside conditions upon organisms are in no case independent of the teleonomic performances characteristic of organisms. Different organisms inhabiting the same ecological niche interact in very different and specific ways with external conditions (among which one must include other organisms). These specific interactions, some of which the organism 'elects', determine the nature and orientation of the selective pressure sustained by the organism....

It is obvious that the part played by teleonomic performances in the orientation of selection becomes greater and greater, the higher the level of organization and hence autonomy of the organism with respect to its environment - to the point where teleonomic performance may indeed be considered decisive in the higher organisms, whose survival and reproduction depend above all upon their behaviour.

It is also evident that the initial choice of this or that kind of behaviour can often have very long-range consequences, not only for the species in which it first appears in rudimentary form, but for all its descendants, even if these constitute an entire evolutionary sub-group. As we all know, the important turning points in evolution have coincided with the invasion of new ecological spaces. If terrestrial vertebrates appeared and were able to initiate the wonderful line from which amphibians, reptiles, birds, and mammals later developed, it was originally because a primitive fish 'chose' to do some exploring on land, where it could however only move about by clumsy hops. This fish thereby created, as a consequence of a change in behaviour, the selective pressure which was to

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engender the powerful limbs of the quadrupeds. Among the descendants of this daring explorer, this Magellan of evolution, are some that can run at speeds of fifty miles an hour; others climb trees with astonishing agility, while yet others have conquered the air, in a fantastic manner fulfilling, extending, and amplifying the 'dream' of the ancestral fish.5

Monod refers also to the 'choice' by the ancestors of the horse "-to live upon open plains and to flee at the approach of an enemy (rather than try to put up a fight or to hide)". As a result of this behavioural selection, "the modern species, following a long evolution made up of many stages of reduction, today walks on the tip of a single toe".6 Coming to the birds, Monod further explains how "it is correct to say that sexual drive - or better still, desire - created the conditions under which many magnificent plumages were selected".7

However, even more surprising than Monod's Hardyan biology is his failure to realize the profound implication of his own "choice" of such a biology. Behavioural selection throws into prominence throughout the story of life the activity of what becomes most marked in man: awareness. Hardy observes: "Dr. Thorpe in his penetrating survey of different kinds of animal learning in his Learning and Instinct (Second Edition, 1963) follows Agar8 and Whitehead" in regarding the animal as an essentially perceiving organism. He suggests 'that the concept of perception includes an actively organizing, possibly a purposive element; and that perception is a basic characteristic of the drive of the living animal.'"10 A quotation Hardy makes from Waddington also discloses the implication of the word "behaviour". Waddington, in The Nature of Life (1961), writes: "We have considerable grounds for believing, then, that mentality (in the broad sense), or at least behaviour (biologists tend to be very timid about mentioning the mind), is a factor of importance in evolution."" Waddington, passing from animal to human mind,

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goes still further in his assumption. Hardy quotes him as saying in "his arresting book. The Ethical Animal" (p. 31),

about consciousness:

As soon as one places the problem of freewill in juxtaposition with that of consciousness it becomes apparent that it cannot be solved either by any manipulation of our existing physico-chemical concepts, since these include no hint of self-awareness, or by any analysis of the language used in formulating the situation, since no linguistic analysis can annul our experience of self. We need ideas which depart more radically from those of the physical sciences; something perhaps akin to the thought of philosophers such as Spinoza and Whitehead, who have suggested that even non-living entities should not be denied qualities related to the self-awareness and will which we know, in much more highly evolved forms, in ourselves.¹²

The passage from Waddington is used by Hardy to bear upon what he designates as "natural theology" and conceives as a legitimate pursuit of science. Before moving to that subject he touches upon a number of topics. He has a whole chapter entitled "Problems for Current Evolution Theory". For instance, he notes how the current explanation of "homology" (similar organs in different animals under many varieties of form and function) in terms of similar genes handed on from a common ancestor has broken down. Another problem is linked to Monod's mention of sexual desire in the female bird leading to the selection of "many magnificent plumages" in the male. One reason why Monod, in spite of admitting "behavioural selection" on a large scale, fails to move in the Hardyan direction is that he is unconscious of a subtle point about those plumages. Alfred Russell Wallace, co-discoverer with Darwin of natural selection, brings up the puzzle in his Tropical Nature (first published in 1879). Criticizing Darwin's theory of "sexual

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selection" in this field, Wallace, as quoted by Hardy, writes in his chapter, "Colours of Animals":

We now come to such wonderful developments of plumage and colour as are exhibited by the peacock and the Argus-pheasant.... The long series of gradations by which the beautifully shaded ocelli on the secondary wing-feathers of [the latter] bird have been produced are clearly traced out, the results being a set of markings so exquisitely shaded as to represent "balls lying loose within sockets" - purely artificial objects of which these birds could have no possible experience. That this result should have been attained through thousands and tens of thousands of female birds all preferring those males whose markings varied slightly in this one direction, this uniformity of choice, continuing through thousands and tens of thousands of generations, is to me absolutely incredible. And when, further, we remember that those which did not so vary would also, according to all the evidence, find mates and leave offspring, the actual result seems quite impossible of attainment by such means.13

Hardy tells us that Wallace's solution to the problem - "the action of a hypothetical 'male vigour', the bright pigments being supposedly due to a higher male metabolic rate"14 - has not proved satisfactory. The colour patterns and behaviour we now know to be certainly directed towards the female. "Nevertheless, the puzzle which Wallace pointed out of the extraordinary constant nature of the patterns still persists."15 Hardy has no doubt that the "design" is coded by the genes, yet in view of the great variability which science has observed in the gene-complex how does the design, the plan of its layout, remain so constant?

We may approach an answer by quoting from a review of Hardy's book in the Times Literary Supplement (London) of December 23, 1965 under the caption "Masters of Our Fate?" After referring to Hardy's chapter on the inadequacy of

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current biological science face to face with topics like homo- logy, the reviewer says:

He then runs the risk, as he admits, of diverting attention from his main argument by introducing the biological relevance of telepathy. He is in no doubt - nor can any reader who examines his evidence objectively be left in much doubt - that the mind can be in contact with mind other than through the senses. If telepathy is proved to exist in man, it is a major biological discovery, for it is unlikely that so remarkable a phenomenon should be confined to just a few individuals of one species. It will, of course, take place mainly in the realm of the subconscious, but that does not lessen its importance.

With telepathy proved, the extensive operation of the psychic factor in evolution by way of Hardy's "behavioural selection" should lead us naturally to accord a momentous evolutionary role to so extraordinary a psychic power as telepathic communication. The existence of such communication "between members of the same species of animals might at least help in developing and stabilizing common behavioural patterns" resulting from behavioural selection and making them "widespread" and thereby creating the conditions necessary before they can be "incorporated" in the DNA gene complex - the complex which we know to be governing all "truly instinctive behaviour".16 "Such a hypo- thesis might help to explain the development of elaborate instinct in invertebrate animals among which it would be difficult to conceive of new habits spreading by copying and tradition."17

Now Hardy takes a further step. Reminding us of how, in the various telepathic experiments he has described, "impressions of design, form and experience... can occasionally be transmitted by telepathy from one human individual to another". Hardy asks: "might it not be possible for there to be in the animal kingdom as a whole not only a telepathic

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spread of habit changes, but a general subconscious sharing of a form and behaviour pattern - a sort of psychic 'blueprint' - shared between members of a species?"18 Then Hardy refers to similar notions, put forth by different thinkers, of common experience participated in by individuals, below or beyond the level of ordinary consciousness. He writes: "if there were such a psychic plan it would be something like the subconscious racial memory of Samuel Butler, but it would be a racial experience of habit, form and development, open subconsciously to all members of the species, as in Whately Carrington's group mind, or as in Jung's shared unconscious, if I understand him aright."19 Then Hardy conceives of "the psychic stream of shared behaviour pattern in the living population" flowing on "in time parallel to the flow of the physical DNA material".20 He continues: "External conditions being equal, those animals with gene complexes which allow a better incarnation of the species plan would tend to survive rather than others whose gene complexes produced less satisfactory versions."²¹ As a general reflection Hardy tells us:

If such a highly speculative concept of a 'racial plan' were true, then the old ideas of a 'morph', 'form' or 'archetype' of the pre-evolutionary transcendentalists... might not seem quite so quaint as we have sometimes thought them; they might perhaps be the equivalent of what Jung has called the psychological archetype of his shared subconscious in the human species. Again might not the shared subconscious mind, in man, provide some reality for Plato's world of ideas: shared ideas built up with the evolution of conceptional thought?²²

Mention of Plato must make strict Darwinists shudder. But if something akin to Platonism serves science we cannot attend to their idiosyncratic sensibilities. And it is the theory of the "racial plan" that best explains "the secret of homo- logy in face of an ever changing gene complex".23 This theory

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also sheds light on the riddle of the Argus-pheasant's precisely articulated and long-persisting splendour of plumage. Such splendour has "all the appearance of a definite mental conception like that of an artist or designer - a pattern outside the physical world - which in some way has served as a template or gauge for selective action".24 The "plan in the group 'mind' indirectly selects those gene complexes presenting (in development) its best expression".25 Hardy does not wish to be dogmatic and calls his theory speculation, but he validly remarks that such speculation is "no more fanciful than some of the statements that are made in all the confidence of proven fact by some of our mechanistic biologists - such a statement, for example, as...: 'We now find our- selves... reducing the decisive controls of life to a matter of the precise order in which the units are arranged in a giant molecule.' "26 Hardy is glancing at the substance of a pronouncement by a competent but dogmatic geneticist, F.H.C. Crick.27 It may as well serve to illustrate the general attitude of Monod and all who swear by him.

We do not suggest that Hardy is totally capable of carrying to their ultimate conclusion the implications his speculative genius lays bare in the field of biology. But he goes sufficiently far for the purpose of opening eyes like those of Darwinian extremists. We may again draw upon the reviewer in the Times Literary Supplement to finish our survey. He follows up thus his reference to telepathy and biology:

From this it is not a far step to assert that the living world is as closely linked with theology as it is with physics and chemistry. The feeling of contact with a greater power beyond the self seems to be a fundamental feature in the natural history of man. Sir Alister Hardy believes that science will come to make a second great contribution to natural theology by showing the reality of that part of the universe which is not accessible to the physical senses. It is in this apparently non-material part of the universe that the power called God must lie - some sort of influence to

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which man can have access in an extra-sensory way by the communicative act called prayer.

Finally, the reviewer eagerly awaits Hardy's second series of Gifford Lectures where the present ideas would be developed, and concludes:

In the meantime he has given us a book in which theologians, philosophers and men of science will alike find stimulating ideas backed by penetrating argument and sound experimental evidence.

2

Apropos of Alister Hardy, let us glance at a subject he treats in his second series of Gifford Lectures. He tells us that "a number of scientists with greater vision are now realizing that the problem of the nature of consciousness, embracing that of the mind-body relationship, is one of the most important facing mankind today.'728 Jacques Monod, whom we have called the foremost apostle of "chance" in genetics, has himself the following confession, though still with a materialistic undertone and with desperate anxiety-allaying assumptions:

There lies the frontier, still almost as impassable for us as it was for Descartes. Until it has been crossed a phenomenological dualism will continue to appear unavoidable. Brain and spirit are ideas no more synonymous today than in the seventeenth century. Objective analysis obliges us to see that this seeming duality within us is an illusion; but an illusion so deeply rooted in our being, that it would be vain to hope ever to dissipate it in the immediate awareness of subjectivity, or to learn to live emotionally or morally without it. And, besides, why should we have to? What doubt can there be of the presence of the spirit within us? To give up the illusion

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that sees in it an immaterial 'substance' is not to deny the existence of the soul, but on the contrary to begin to recognize the complexity, the richness, the unfathomable depth of the genetic and cultural heritage and of the personal experience, conscious or not, which together make up this being of ours, unique and irrefutable.29

All this double-faced rhetoric is empty. Spirit's or consciousness's existence as an irreducible fact cannot be called "an illusion". Monod, a few sentences earlier than the cited passage, has declared of "this marvellous instrument" of "subjective experience": "Physiological experimentation has so far been unable to help us."30 Does "the analysis of language" give us help? Monod tells us that this analysis discloses the subjective experience only after it has been "transformed" and "certainly does not reveal all its operations".³¹ What then remains? The "genetic heritage" cannot enlighten us, for genes are as physical as the brain and belong just as much to the one side of the "duality". Looking at the "duality" from the materialistic angle which Monod Stubbornly chooses, we have no reason to use the adjective "seeming", no cause to count as an "illusion" our seeing here an entity that is "immaterial", whether we rate it as a "substance" or not. Our "immediate awareness of subjectivity", standing opposed to all that we define in science as material, cannot but be considered "immaterial" until such time that this "area", labelled by Monod elsewhere as "still 'reserved' ",32 has been covered by what he pins his hopes on: "development in molecular biology", which, in his eyes, "over the past two decades has singularly narrowed the domain of the mysterious".33 The view scientists like Monod take of matter, regarding it as blind mass or energy, a phenomenon never to be interpreted "in terms of final causes - that is to say, of 'purpose' ",34 can never cope with "subjectivity" whose "witness to itself" Monod cannot help admitting to be "irrefutable" and incapable of being dispelled.

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If we are to dissipate dualism we must proceed the other way round and explain genetics and physiological events by a hidden or disguised consciousness at work - matter being veiled life, life veiled mind, mind veiled Supermind, as Sri Aurobindo would have it. After all, what we know as matter is, to make a pertinent pun, a matter of experience and of conceptual extrapolation of experience - in other words, the same awareness which is witness to our self is here an encompasser of the not-self: the so-called objective, too, is known only through and within the subjective. A greater Self in which all that we now consider not-self is also covered, a supreme experience-holder, must be taken to find expression in both sides of our experience.

Anyway, Hardy draws our attention to the fact that master neurologists and brain-specialists refuse to equate consciousness with the cerebral organ. Thus Sir Cyril Hinshelwood, in his Presidential Address in 1966 to the British Association at Cambridge, entitled "Science and Scientists" says: "... what remains utterly incomprehensible is how and why the brain becomes the vehicle of conscious- ness.... Some philosophers have wanted to talk away the mind-matter problem as a verbal confusion. I suspect that at bottom they simply attach no importance to the scientific description of things and are therefore indifferent to any divorce between it and the language which describes the world of experience."35 A little earlier in his Address Hinshelwood remarks about Sir Charles Sherrington:

"Though he more than any other man elucidated the nature of nervous reflexes, he was strongly opposed to any mechanistic view of the world. 'Mind,' he writes, 'knows itself and knows the world; chemistry and physics, explaining so much, cannot undertake to explain Mind itself.'"36 Hardy adds on his own a passage from Sherrington's Gifford Lectures, Man on His Nature:

...mental phenomena on examination do not seem amenable to understanding under physics and chemistry. I

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have therefore to think of the brain as an organ of liaison between energy and mind, but not as a converter of energy into mind or vice versa.

We have, it seems to me, to admit that energy and mind are phenomena of two categories.37

Then Hardy turns to the views of Lord Brain. In his book, Mind, Perception and Science, Lord Brain answers the question:

"What have you to say about [Gilbert] Ryle's view? Hasn't he finally demolished 'the ghost in the machine' and with it many other functions you evidently attribute to the mind?" Lord Brain says: "It would take too long to discuss all the views which Ryle expresses in The Concept of the Mind, but I must comment on his ideas about sensation, observation and imagination, since if he is right about these I must be wrong and, incidentally, his approach to these topics will illustrate what I believe to be the fundamental defect of his book."38 Lord Brain goes on to demolish, on neurophysiological grounds, Ryle's argument.

Hardy continues: "Sir John Eccles, one of our leading physiologists of brain action, in his Waynfleete Lectures at Oxford in 1952, to the astonishment of many supported the concept of the 'ghost in the machine'."39 Finally, Hardy refers to Sir Cyril Burt who "has recently in two important papers, 'The Structure of the Mind'40 and 'The Concept of Consciousness',41 shown the absurdity of both the epiphenomenal view of mind and the old behaviourist* type of psychology....42 The shallow materialism of those biologists and psychologists who imagine that, in reducing all life to physics and chemistry, they are taking the only truly scientific course, is now giving way to a wider vision." 43

Doubtless, the view of perception taken by Sherrington, Hinshelwood, Brain, Eccles and Burt is not without difficulties from the philosophical standpoint, but so are all other

* Not to be confused with the modern behaviour studies, the investigation of the behaviour of animals under natural conditions which has developed to become a new branch of biology now called ethology.

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theories. What this view stresses is the physiological mechanism science cannot ever overlook and which must involve a radical difference from subjectivity. From the joint operation of subjectivity and the physiological mechanism three problems arise: (1) How does a subjective state interact with a mechanism composed of material factors? (2) How does the experiencing subject, which is connected only with complex nerve-operations, get the sight, sound, smell, taste and touch of a manifold world of objects? (3) Confined to inter- action with neural events, how can the experiencing subject know that its experience of sight, sound, smell, taste and touch corresponds to what objectively exists?

We have already indicated the direction in which the answer to the first question must lie: a more-than-human Consciousness relates itself to itself in the form of mind, life- force and matter which are all projected experience-moulds of that Consciousness. But, from the argumentative angle, no answer is immediately necessary. For, the alternatives to the interaction-theory pose equal difficulties. If we say, as some older philosophers did, that physical events and mental events constitute two parallel series corresponding to each other in their own peculiar terms, we may ask how two such unlike series, each supposedly irreducible to the other, could have come together to constitute a parallelism. Or if we say, as many modern materialists have done, that the mind is a mere epiphenomenon, a state caused by brain-activity but with no active effect back upon the brain, a similar query is legitimate: how could brain-activity which is alleged to be so different from a mental phenomenon ever come to cause it? Besides, how could a phenomenon, so useless as an active agent, have not only persisted as an evolutionary feature but actually gone on increasing in biological history? On the ground of dissimilarity, all theories are on a par as regards conceptual hurdles.

The two other questions hang together. And if the scientific description of what is involved in perception is correct - and surely scientists can fundamentally give no

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alternative account - then there is only one solution. Sri Aurobindo has hinted at it.44 An intuitive activity of several kinds intervenes and establishes an immediate intimacy with the external object to be perceived. There is a sense-mind intuition which seizes the suggestion of the image or vibration touching off the nerve-message. There is a life-force intuition which seizes the object's energy or figure of power through another sort of vibration created by the sense- contact. And there is an intuition of the correlating mind which at once forms a right idea of the object from this double testimony. But Sri Aurobindo adds that all here is an action through a dense medium, as it were, and the image thus constructed is somewhat deficient. What is deficient is filled up, as far as the field or the scale of experience concerned permits, by the intervention of the reason or the total understanding intelligence. Nothing except such a direct perception, an extra-sensory perception, can disclose the manifold world of objects to us and enable us to judge the correspondence of that world with our experience of sight, sound, smell, taste and touch.

The Aurobindonian view explains why in perception we feel not that there are the percept and the perceived but that the two are one and the same. The direct intuitive impression is superimposed upon the response of the mind stimulated by the code-message of the nerves. The Aurobindonian view also establishes at the very outset a kind of supernormal knowledge exceeding the conditions under which the mind has to work in the present state of affairs - namely, the arrangement of neural stimulus and mental response. In fact, the very language we have to use in talking of perception assumes such a knowledge. For, neural stimulus is as much a part of the ordinary world of objects as are clouds, cascades, flowers, fruits and stones, whose message is conveyed in code by neural movements. Thus consciousness is proved in even its most elementary act to be not clamped to the brain, not inseparably associated with the grey cells. It is something independent, however limited and covered-up its usual

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functioning. Hence the evidence recently accumulated of extra-sensory perception and of other forms of paranormal cognition is demonstrated to be nothing utterly out of the ordinary. A prima facie case for their authenticity is created

Sri Aurobindo does not seek to bypass science's account It is valid to him but must be very significantly supplemented. Science, on its side, cannot bypass the fact of "mind" and indeed has to make this fact all too patent when it speaks authoritatively through its master neurologists and brain- specialists.

To round off our discussion we may close with a remark of Hardy's, side by side with one from another source. There is the point Hardy brings up when reflecting on his idea of telepathy being a general phenomenon in biology, rendering it possible for us to imagine a pattern of shared "unconscious" experience, a kind of composite species-pattern of life. He comments on the mysteriousness which may be alleged against this experience:

It is important to remember that in the concept of the individual mind we are faced with a mystery no less remarkable. The mind cannot be anchored to this or that group of cells that make up the brain. The community of cells making up the body has a mind beyond the individual cells - the "impression" coming from one part of the brain receiving sensory impulses from one eye and that from another part of the brain from the other eye are merged together in the mind, not in some particular cells as far as we know. The mystery of the mind and body seems to be as inconceivable as the speculation I am suggesting.45

Once more we are in the midst of things in common life which are impossible for science to reduce to any materialistic phenomenon.

Perhaps Hardy, who has quoted so many authorities on cerebral processes, would appreciate the last word being

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given to one more such name, the most renowned in our time. Dr. Wilder Penfield. In his book. The Mystery of the Mind, Penfield confesses that all his attempts to understand mental experience — the mind — on the basis of brain-studies have come to nothing. He concludes that the mind is a peculiar energy whose form is quite different from the electrochemical energy in the brain's nerve-pathways.46

Thus here, as elsewhere, scientific attitudes and contemporary world-insights are not so simple and naive and single- tracked as superficial commentators may pretend. They leave ample room for and even demand a vision, like Sri Aurobindo's, of the universe and man.

REFERENCES

1. The Living Stream: A Restatement of Evolution Theory and Us Relation to the Spirit of Man (Collins, London, 1965), p. 254.

2. Ibid., p. 170.

3. Ibid., p. 163.

4. Ibid., p. 165.

5. Chance and Necessity (Collins, London, 1972), pp. 120-21.

6. Ibid., p. 122.

7. Ibid.

8. The Theory of the Living Organism (Melbourne University Press, 1943).

9. Process and Reality (Cambridge, 1929).

10. The Living Stream, p. 172.

11. Ibid., p. 190.

12. Ibid., pp. 281-82.

13. Ibid., pp. 231-32.

14. Ibid., p. 232.

15. Ibid., p. 233.

16. Ibid., p. 255.

17. Ibid.

18. Ibid., p. 257.

19. Ibid.

20. Ibid., p. 258.

21. Ibid.

22. Ibid., p. 259.

23. Ibid.

24. Ibid.. p. 260.

25. Ibid.

26. Ibid., p. 261.

27. Cf. the end of his article in Scientific American, September 1957.

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28. The Divine Flame: An Essay towards a Natural History of Religion (Collins, London, 1966), p. 222.

29. Chance and Necessity (Collins, London, 1972), pp. 148-49.

30. Ibid., p. 148.

31. Ibid.

32. Ibid., p. 37.

33. Ibid.

34. Ibid., p. 30.

35. Ibid., p. 223.

36. Ibid., p. 224.

37. Ibid.

38. Ibid., p. 225.

39. Ibid., pp. 225-26.

40. The British Journal of Statistic Psychology, 1961, Vol. 14, pp. 145-70.

41. British Journal of Psychology, 1962, Vol. 53, pp. 239-42.

42. Hardy, op. Cit., p. 227.

43. Ibid., p. 228.

44. The Life Divine, p. 473.

45. The Living Stream: A Restatement of Evolution Theory and Its Relation to the Spirit of Man (Collins, London, 1965), p. 257.

46. The Mystery of the Mind (Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1975).

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