The idea from the cognitive revolution that the mind is a system of universal, generative computational modules obliterates the way that debates on human nature have been framed for centuries.
Obviously, colored stones don’t possess what neuroscientists and
neurophilosphers call “consciousness.” The British scientist Susan
Greenfield succinctly defines it as the hard problem of, and current
philosophical bafflement about, “how the water of brain functioning is
converted into the wine of subjective experience.”
But, much like viewing pictures—as the Argentine fantasist, Adolfo Bioy
Casares, writes—gazing into precious and semiprecious gems causes “new
objects” to appear “in an endless succession.”
The magical realist is not referring just to the filmic stimulation of
the eye. As with Carl Jung’s study of the “psychification” of rocks
across world cultures, so-called “dead matter” everywhere seems imbued
with life.
Do gems have agency? Do they incite the brain to inference the
existence of a hidden order inside the reflective mass, and are actual
transformations of substance possible? That is, does their structure
provoke mentalizing, and are they in some way “minded”—do they have a
particular tendency or do they tend toward something? As the cognitive
scientist Steven Pinker states, it’s the combinatorial modular
organization of the brain (i.e., the brain as crystal) that generates an
unlimited set of thoughts and behavior. What is it about
crystal-chunking that encourages inferencing from the seen to the
unseen, generating intense emotional and hypnotic states? Is there
something special about such compressive modularity that synchronizes
our inner situations with outer realities? If so, the allure of gems
consists in more than reward-system response to consumer flash.
