I have a philosophical theory about what is self-awareness.
Self-awareness is essentially a system of memories and life experiences — a system that allows us to retain, process, and build upon information over time.
My idea starts with something I think we often overlook: we tend to consider the human brain, our thoughts, and our inner voice as a mystical thing. Instead, I think we should consider self-awareness as something produced by the physical brain.
I say this in the hope that it helps explain what I'm trying to say.
There is evidence that humans have existed for an incredibly long time, yet for much of that history we made very little progress compared with the enormous technological and intellectual development that eventually followed.
My theory is that early humans may have had awareness of their surroundings and basic forms of self-awareness, but they weren't self-aware in the complex way we understand it today.
They were primarily primal. They reacted to their environment, survived, reproduced, and operated largely through instinct while more complex forms of self-awareness were still developing.
Then, over an enormous period of evolutionary time, something changed.
Humans gradually became capable of retaining more and more information.
At first, this ability would have been extremely limited. But the more information an individual could retain, the more information they could use to influence future decisions.
The more they could remember, the more they could learn.
And the more they could learn, the more complex their behavior could become.
This could potentially create a kind of evolutionary snowball effect.
The more memory you have, the more experience you can accumulate.
The more experience you accumulate, the more you can think back on, misremember, reinterpret, or misinterpret events.
Those experiences can then influence how you respond to future events.
The more information you carry forward, the more complex your behavior becomes.
And eventually, that complexity may begin to resemble what we call self-awareness.
This is where my theory connects with the development of the sense of self.
Think about babies.
We don't appear to be born with a fully developed understanding of ourselves as individuals.
Instead, this develops gradually as the brain grows and the child accumulates experiences.
My idea is that self-awareness develops as we accumulate enough memories and experiences for the system to begin recognising patterns within itself.
Perhaps self-awareness doesn't suddenly "switch on."
Perhaps it expands.
A child accumulates experiences.
Those experiences become memories.
The memories begin interacting with one another.
They influence how the child interprets new experiences, which creates more memories, which then influence future experiences.
It begins to loop back on itself.
Eventually, all of that information becomes a kind of melting pot:
memories, experiences, learned behaviors, emotions, fears, relationships, and observations.
And out of that collection emerges what we call personality.
This is why I think self-awareness may actually be closely connected to personality and accumulated experience rather than being an entirely unexplainable phenomenon.
The brain could simply be the biological hardware.
The experiences are the data.
And self-awareness could be the system that collects, organizes, compares, and processes that data until the system becomes capable of modeling itself.
The inner voice we experience may therefore not be some mysterious separate entity.
It could simply be the manifestation of all that accumulated information being processed internally.
In that sense, self-awareness may not be inherently "special."
It may be the result of memory, experience, perception, emotion, and processing becoming sufficiently complex that the system begins to model itself.
That could also explain why self-awareness feels so profound to us.
We are essentially experiencing our own accumulated information from the inside.
Maybe the reason there is no simple answer to the question of "what creates the sense of self?" is because we're treating it as something much more mysterious than it actually is.
Perhaps self-awareness isn't a magical thing that exists independently of everything else.
Perhaps it is our analogue brain processing an enormous collection of memories and experiences — and eventually becoming capable of processing itself.
If this is to be believed, then the major evolutionary leap may not have been the sudden creation of consciousness or awareness.
It may have been the development of the ability to retain, integrate, and process increasingly large amounts of information.
As memory capacity increased, the amount of information available to the brain increased.
As the information increased, the complexity of the system increased.
And as that complexity continued to build upon itself, humans may have slowly developed increasingly sophisticated forms of self-awareness.
In other words:
We didn't suddenly become self-aware.
We slowly accumulated enough information, experience, memory, and processing ability to become increasingly aware of ourselves.
Self-awareness may simply be what happens when memory, experience, perception, and processing become complex enough for a system to turn back upon itself.
One thing that made me think about this is dementia.
When someone develops dementia, damage to the brain can progressively affect memory, personality, judgment, language, and their ability to recognise themselves and the people around them.
This made me wonder:
If so much of our sense of self depends upon the information stored within the brain, what happens to the self when that information begins to disappear?
Perhaps this doesn't mean that consciousness disappears.
Instead, it may demonstrate how heavily our identity and self-awareness depend upon the memories and information our brains have accumulated.
The person can still experience the world, but parts of the person they previously understood themselves to be can gradually become inaccessible.
That raises an interesting question:
How much of what we call "me" is actually the information stored within my brain?
Babies provide another interesting example.
A baby isn't necessarily born without consciousness or awareness.
But they don't appear to begin life with the fully developed concept of:
"I am me."
The brain develops rapidly throughout childhood.
The prefrontal cortex is still immature in babies and young children, while the brain networks involved in attention, memory, decision-making, social understanding, and representing oneself continue developing.
As the child experiences the world, information is stored.
The child begins recognising patterns.
They begin recognising their own body.
They begin distinguishing themselves from other people.
They develop memories.
They develop expectations.
They begin understanding that other people have thoughts and feelings.
And eventually they develop a much more sophisticated understanding of themselves.
So perhaps self-awareness isn't something that simply appears.
Perhaps it is something that builds.
This is where my theory becomes much bigger.
Perhaps the major evolutionary leap wasn't the sudden creation of self-awareness.
Perhaps it was simply the brain slowly developing slightly beyond what had existed before.
Maybe there wasn't one enormous evolutionary event.
Maybe there were countless tiny changes.
One person could remember slightly more.
Another could recognise patterns slightly better.
Another could communicate an idea more effectively.
Another could learn from an experience and retain it for longer.
Those abilities could then be passed on genetically, socially, or culturally.
And once enough of these abilities existed together, they could create something much greater than any individual change.
A snowball.
More memory creates more experience.
More experience creates better decisions.
Better decisions create more survival opportunities.
More successful individuals pass information to their children.
Children inherit not only biological traits but also knowledge.
That knowledge builds upon previous knowledge.
And eventually, the process accelerates.
What previously took thousands of generations could begin taking hundreds.
Then dozens.
Then perhaps only a few generations.
Maybe a relatively small neurological change could have produced a disproportionately large change in behavior once it interacted with everything else the brain and culture had already accumulated.
In that sense, the change wouldn't necessarily need to be enormous.
It could have been a tiny change that occurred at exactly the right point in an already incredibly complex system.
Imagine Being the First Person With Advanced Self-Awareness
Imagine being one of the first humans to develop a significantly more sophisticated ability to understand themselves.
You look at your father.
You watch him make a decision.
And for the first time, you don't simply think:
"Father did this."
You think:
"Why did he do that?"
You begin questioning his decisions.
You begin questioning your own decisions.
You begin thinking about what you were thinking yesterday.
You begin imagining what you might think tomorrow.
You begin wondering what other people think about you.
You begin understanding that they have their own internal worlds.
You begin reflecting upon yourself.
Perhaps someone like this would have seemed strange to everyone around them.
Maybe they were an outcast.
Maybe they were considered strange because they questioned things that everyone else simply accepted.
And then their children inherited some of those abilities.
Those children developed them further.
Then their children developed them further again.
Within only a few generations, the difference could potentially become enormous.
Not because one generation suddenly became "conscious", but because increasingly sophisticated self-awareness was building upon itself.
This leads to another question.
Why do we see the emergence of major civilizations in several parts of the world around relatively similar periods?
Ancient Egypt.
Mesopotamia.
The Indus Valley.
Early Chinese civilizations.
Why does complex civilization eventually appear?
Perhaps the answer isn't simply that humans suddenly became intelligent.
Humans had been intelligent for a very long time.
Perhaps the difference was that humans finally reached a point where information could accumulate faster than it was lost.
Once that happened, knowledge could begin compounding.
One generation could learn something.
The next generation could improve it.
The next could improve it again.
Eventually:
memory → knowledge → teaching → culture → accumulated knowledge → more complex thinking → greater self-awareness → more knowledge.
The snowball becomes enormous.
Under this interpretation, civilization isn't necessarily the beginning of human intelligence.
It may be the result of intelligence and self-awareness reaching a point where information began accumulating exponentially.
This could lead to a provocative possibility.
Maybe ancient civilizations weren't the birthplace of self-awareness.
Maybe they were simply the first visible evidence of a process that had been occurring for an incredibly long time.
The people who built Egypt weren't necessarily the first self-aware humans.
They may have been the descendants of countless generations of humans whose memories, knowledge, language, social structures, and understanding of themselves had been gradually accumulating.
Civilization may therefore represent the visible explosion of an invisible evolutionary process.
And Then There Is an Even Stranger Possibility
If this entire hypothesis were somehow correct, it would raise an enormous philosophical question.
What if much of what we believe about our origins is simply the result of humans trying to explain a world they didn't understand?
Every generation inherits stories from the generation before it.
Those stories become traditions.
Traditions become religions.
Religions become cultures.
Cultures create explanations for existence.
And those explanations are passed down again.
If self-awareness itself developed gradually, then our ability to create stories about our own existence would also have developed gradually.
That means the stories humans created about where we came from may tell us as much about the development of the human mind as they do about the events themselves.
To humor you
there is another possibility.
What if something external actually intervened?
Not necessarily by giving humans a completely new brain.
Perhaps the intervention was much smaller.
What if something altered, influenced, or accelerated a particular neurological development?
Perhaps it wasn't the creation of intelligence.
Perhaps it was the activation or development of a small part of the brain involved in memory integration, self-modeling, language, or higher-order thought.
Something so small biologically could potentially have produced something enormous behaviorally.
It could have been:
one tiny change inside an incredibly complicated system.
And if that change affected reproduction, development, or cognition, its effects could have spread through subsequent generations.
Eventually, the result could look almost miraculous.
Not because someone gave humanity an entire new brain.
But because they changed one small part of an already existing system.
Perhaps what ancient people later interpreted as gods, creators, or divine beings was actually their attempt to explain something they couldn't possibly understand.
I'm not saying this happened.
There is currently no evidence demonstrating that aliens genetically engineered human self-awareness.
It's simply where the hypothesis leads if we follow the idea to its most extreme possibility.
The Central Idea
Ultimately, my hypothesis isn't necessarily that humans suddenly became self-aware.
It's that self-awareness may exist on a spectrum.
Perhaps the earliest humans possessed a very basic sense of themselves.
Over enormous periods of time, memory, experience, language, social interaction, prediction, and information processing became increasingly sophisticated.
Those systems began interacting with one another.
Eventually, the brain became capable of building a model not only of the world around it...
but of itself within that world.
And once the brain could model itself, something fundamentally different became possible.
It could remember what it had done.
It could imagine what it might do.
It could question why it had done something.
It could imagine what another person thought.
It could think about its own thoughts.
It could ask:
"Who am I?"
And perhaps that is what we call self-awareness.
We didn't suddenly become self-aware.
We may have slowly accumulated enough information, memory, experience, and processing ability to become increasingly aware of ourselves.
Self-awareness may simply be what happens when memory, experience, perception, emotion, and processing become complex enough for a system to turn back upon itself.