The Pattern of Human Intelligence (part 1)

I have been rereading a very fascinating book, On Intelligence, by Jeff Hawkins, published in 2004.  This reading has generated some important insights, or possible connections, for me.  Lest any of my L.D.S. readers suspect that I am trying to ‘teach for [as] doctrine the philosophies of men mingled with scripture’ I assure them I am not and never do. I am simply ‘seek[ing] learning’ from the ‘best books,’ secular and scriptural, ‘even by study and also by faith.’  It is the intent of Omnium-Gatherum-Millerum to pass along that learning.

[That which follows in standard type are my understandings gleaned  from On Intelligence,  and that which is in italic type are my particularly religious views that could be extended from it.] 

The human brain is made up of an estimated 30 billion cells—neurons.  The neocortex—the outside sheet of cells of the brain is actually made of six layers of neuron sheets (visualize it as sort of a very thin sheet of soft, smooth, convoluted six-ply plywood)  that are functional units of nerve tissue arranged in a hierarchal manner.  All regions of the cortex look much the same, but they do functionally different things. Nevertheless, Hawkins infers they use the same basic algorithm(s) everywhere. This is important—and the point of today’s essay.

Where do they get the governing algorithm?

Mr. Hawkins postulates that there is a single, powerful algorithm (a procedure or set of steps for solving a problem) that functionally ties these layers together and which our brain builds upon.  This is the key to learning and memory.  All your brain knows, he concludes, is ‘patterns.’  All our knowledge of the world is just a model based on patterns.  Memory is what happens to stored patterns.  A chain of memory is what is called a ‘thought.’ 

It is interesting that clear back in 1831 Joseph Smith, Jr., received a revelation that stated, “I give unto you a pattern in all things, that ye may not be deceived….” Believing the testimony of the prophets,  I submit that some fundamental learnings or patterns (e.g., what many call ‘conscience’) were ‘implanted,’ as it were, from before we became a sentient living soul and that ‘higher spiritual learnings’ from the Holy Spirit help inform  cognitions and reveal divinely implanted patterns for people who conform their lives to be worthy recipients of such input.  As spirit children of God we inherit divine attributes and are told “every man is given a gift by the Spirit of God.”

 

Though lacking Joseph Smith, Jr.’s  revelatory explanation, the ancient Greek philosopher Plato postulated his ‘Forms’ notion that our souls come from mystical places and that our ‘higher minds’ retain latent knowledge of ‘forms’ or archetypes from that place. He, too, without science to validate it (as if science must validate everything), believed we were born with at least some ‘patterns’ in place to explain our relationship to our world. The concept of ‘instinct’ in animals supports that notion. 

Antedating even Plato was the Old Testament personality Job.  We read in his book that “there is a spirit in man; and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding.” (Job 32:8)  

To continue with Hawkins' explanation, he says the brain is ‘wired’ or connected in such a way that it is "auto-associative," meaning that it recalls patterns when it ‘sees’ (actually reacts to the ‘action potential’ or nerve impulse) similar patterns to the ones it has previously learned.

Hawkins  extends his ideas into what he calls the "Memory Prediction Framework” or system. This is the idea that the entire neocortex is built with functional units that predict the patterns coming from whatever they connect to, regardless of whether it is another cortical region, sensory input, motor output, or as I, not he, above posed: revelatory input. This idea is taken to be the defining property of intelligence: "The capacity of the brain to predict the future by analogy to the past."  Another way of saying it is the ability to make predictions about the future is the crux of intelligence! 

[This introductory essay will be continued in next Tuesday’s posting of Omnium-Gatherum-Millerum.  In the meantime, reading my 19 May 2011 posting 'It Goes Without Saying' will go a long way to understanding why I am so excited about this topic.]

Coming Soon—A Special Essay

I have lagged for over a week in producing a meaningful thought for Omnium-Gatherum readers.  It is because I have been using any spare time I have for finishing reading and thinking about a really illuminating book by Jeff Hawkins:  On Intelligence.  His insights pertaining to the structure and theoretical functioning of the brain have stimulated an insight of my own that builds upon his work in computers and neuroscience and my own religious studies over many years.  I hope to present my views later this week.  Check back on Saturday morning. 

In the meantime I would be honored by any new or infrequent reader checking out the titles of my 170+ previous essays on the archives sidebar on the right side of my homepage.  Some are somewhat ‘light,’ and many are dead-serious—at least from the point-of-view of a conservative old white male  You might find something interesting that you have not visited before.   

In any case, I have truly enjoyed writing my thoughts for an audience I probably will never know.  I always welcome feedback and I hope something I have written may have enriched your life.   

Validated

In receiving, yesterday, my copy of Hillsdale College’s monthly publication Imprimis I was gratified to read an article by Meghan Cox Gurdon titled ‘The Case for Good Taste in Children’s Books.’ Mrs. Gurdon is a mother, a journalist, and has been a book reviewer for the Wall Street Journal for nearly a decade. 

I was gratified not only for the defense of her subject matter, good taste in children’s books, but for the larger issue she addressed.  It was essentially the same issue that I addressed in my last weblog essay, ‘Glorifying the Inglorious.’  She even ended by using the same, very-to-the-point scriptural citation by the ancient Christian apostle, Paul—and one that is an article of my own Christian faith. 

From her in-depth experience with children’s, young adult, and so-called ‘chick-lit’ literature she made the case that there is “an increasingly dark current that runs through [these] books.”They have become, “increasingly lurid, grotesque, profane, sexual, and ugly. . . reflecting hideously distorted portrayals of life.” 

In yet another way the adults in our society—parents,  teachers, librarians, book authors, social media hosts or other, hopefully,  responsible  trendsetters who should stand as gatekeepers, those who should screen and protect the most vulnerable of our race—have  abdicated their roles and even abetted the destroyers of our once fairly-enlightened culture by contaminating our children.  ‘Freedom of expression,’ as part of our veneration for ‘freedom of speech,’ whereby flag-burning, vulgar San Francisco ‘gay-rights’ parades, profane lyrics and actions by rap-music and other ‘performers’ over our air-waves and television sets—and popular books—has as trumped good taste, common sense, and moral responsibility. 

I have long considered it an irony that so-called ‘adult movies,’ ‘adult literature,’ ‘adult entertainment,’ is somehow okay for adults, but is (or now was) rightly recognized as not okay for children.  What hypocrisy from adults who children, at least for all too brief period of their lives, look up to as their role models in all things. 

   

Degradation engulfs us from all sides.  And we give our tacit approval to it. 

I end with this well-said summation from  Mrs. Gurdon’s speech:

            “This is why good taste matters so much when it comes to books for children and young adults.  Books tell children what to expect, what life is, what culture is, how we are expected to behave…. Books don’t just cater to tastes.  They form tastes.  They create norms.”  

If I haven’t made the point yet in these essays I probably never will make it.  But if you choose, instead, to see it for yourself just check out the Miley Cyrus antics of the past week, or the Brittany Spears behaviors of the past few years, or the costumes of the women on Dancing With the Stars, or a few of the books cited by Meghan Cox Gurdon in her critique that I have credited today.  Be prepared to be shocked. 

And then (and this is most important), ask yourself what you are going to do about it.  I would hope you, too, will raise the warning voice in your own sphere of influence.  You will not be a lone voice crying in the wilderness.  You will get validation—at least from me. 

Glorifying the Inglorious

As one of my primary sources for understanding the pulse of the nation and what is going on in the world I listen to National Public Radio (NPR).  As a counterpoint I also, of course, listen very carefully to my Church leaders (who are highly informed regarding social issues and cultural trends) and the Holy Spirit with which I am gifted; I also subscribe to a national newspaper as well as my local county newspaper.  And I also do a lot of general reading.

In listening to NPR for nearly a decade I have strongly mixed feelings about its programming.  On the one hand I appreciate their news clips and the breadth of the many interesting topics its programs explore. But on the other hand I find the content of many of its shows featuring interviewed—and interviewing—personalities, topics, and treatment of social issues and behavior to be highly slanted with liberal bias, and demonstrative of a tacit support for the iconoclastic. 

Notwithstanding the high-sounding principles of fairness and impartiality they claim in their NPR Ethics Handbook (which I have carefully read), the pro-liberal agenda in their programming is strongly evident.  Traditional values, especially Christian values, are given little treatment; indeed, they are dismissed, disregarded and disparaged.  For a social institution that is partially funded by public tax-payer money (currently 4.6% of their operating revenue) I find this unacceptable.

Here is the problem:  I am genuinely concerned with the direction this country is heading with regard to the collapse of our moral foundation—especially family values.  National media, such as NPR contributes to that.  NPR interviews, for example, especially in programs such as On Point with host Tom Ashbrook, and Fresh Air with Terri Gross, seem very sympathetic with the many guests they choose to interview whose lifestyles are far from the norm or depart radically from the traditional cultural ideal. Their focus is frequently on people such as these who represent lifestyles or viewpoints that are at variance with the principles that made this a once-great (and good) nation. It is evident that the NPR producers do this deliberately.  The problem is that the naïve and susceptible, such as our youth and young adults, are vulnerable to this approach to social engineering. And it is this population that is particularly suffering. 

It is a rare interview or subject explored that I see, from their mission statement, programming “[providing] content that meet the highest standards of public service in journalism and cultural expression.” To the contrary, I do see (also from their Handbook) that they “make every effort to gather responses from those who are the subjects of criticism, unfavorable allegations or other negative assertions in our stories.” Is it any wonder why convicted felons, drug addicts, sexual deviants, people with failed lives and social iconoclasts might get, from a more conservative public,  “criticism, unfavorable allegations or other negative assertions” when they have brought these woes upon themselves?  “We minimize undue harm and take special care with those who are vulnerable or suffering,” they say.  Harm to whom?  To the real victims, to a struggling public, to impressionable young people who may be listening in? No. But NPR certainly doesn’t want to offend the poor sexual predators, addicts, thieves, non-contributors and deviants.  “ We strive to report and produce stories that transcend our biases and treat all views fairly.”  Oh?  Hardly.  I invite a more careful look. 

In my doctoral studies I used a statistical social-science instrument called ‘content analysis.’  Simplified it simply means to classify ‘categories-treated’ and count the number of times terms or concepts that meet the criteria pertaining to that which is being studied is addressed.  In short, what is being emphasized? 

For example, say a radio program is interviewing a book author.  Do a content analysis on the interview by counting up the number of times the interviewer or interviewee brings up or elaborates on anti-social or counter-culture or off-center criteria such as protecting criminal’s ‘rights,’ or justifying deviant sexual behavior, or pro-abortion, or promotion of illegal substances, or sympathizing with the self-created dysfunctional individual, etc.  And then contrast that with discussion that focus’ on positive concepts or exemplary people such as that encouraged by the Christian ideal expressed by the apostle Paul:

“Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.” (Philippians 4:8)

This, I would like to see much more of. 

But to glorify the inglorious, to promote the prurient?  Yes, I do have a problem with that.  And so does a culture that embraces it. 

When you tune in to NPR for news, be prepared for what you are going to get in far too much of their other programming. 

Sheridan's 20 Mile Ride

Writing about words in my last essay motivates me to want to illustrate the motivating power of words in my own life and in the lives of those who gave their ‘last full measure of devotion.’ 

Some years ago my wife and I read together one of James A. Michener’s early works, The Bridge at Andau.  It was that book that a few years ago took us to Budapest, Hungary to witness the place where the brave people of Hungary, in 1956, put up the resistance against the powerful Russian invaders and occupiers. I think in the back of our minds we made the resolve that should we have to some day show such courage as did those people, we had the example before us.  We would do as they did if the circumstances demanded it.  We were glad their heroism was put down in words. 

On another occasion we read Michael Shaara’s superb Pulitzer Prize-winning Civil War classic, The Killer Angels.  We were highly impressed with the character, leadership and accomplishments of Union General Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain at Gettysburg.   This book, too, took us on a journey—this time to Gettysburg to get the feel of this turning-place in American history.  

There is another Civil War general whose life and accomplishments—and especially leadership—came to light for me by the words of a poet.  Thomas Buchanan Read, the chronicler of the life of Union army General Phillip Sheridan, created a poem “Sheridan’s Ride.”

 General Sheridan had rapidly risen through the army ranks from a lieutenant because his great personal traits and leadership abilities proved he could move men. He had been given the command of the Union Army of the Shenandoah but was called to Washington D.C. for consultation when a surprise attack was made on his troops in his absence.  When the battle began,  Sheridan was twenty miles away at Winchester, but when he heard the report of the artillery where he had left his army he immediately responded.  But he did not reach the battlefield until his soldiers were already in retreat.  However, the sight of their general heading back into the battle instead away from it gave his men new courage and a greater faith.  As he rode up the valley at full gallop his soldiers turned and followed him to victory.    I end with Thomas Read’s stirring words of Sheridan and his steed:

Up from the South at break of day,

Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay,

The affrighted air with a shudder bore,

Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain’s door,

The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar,

Telling that battle was on once more,

            And Sheridan twenty miles away.

            And wider still those billows of war

Thundered along the horizon’s bar;

And louder yet into Winchester rolled

The roar of that red sea uncontrolled,

Making the blood of the listener cold,

As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray,

            With Sheridan twenty miles away.

But there is a road from Winchester town,

A good, broad highway leading down;

And there, through the flush of the morning light,

A steed as black as the steeds of night

Was seen to pass, as with eagle flight;

As if he knew the terrible need,

He stretched away with his utmost speed;

Hills rose and fell; but his heart was gay

            With Sheridan fifteen miles away.

Still sprung from those swift hoofs thundering South,

The dust, like smoke from the cannon’s mouth;

Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster.

Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster,

The heart of the steed and the heart of the master

Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls,

Impatient to be where the battlefield calls;

Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play,

            With Sheridan only ten miles away.

Under his spurning feet the road

Like an arrowy alpine river flowed,

And the landscape sped away behind

Like and ocean flying before the wind,

And the steed, like a barque fed with furnace ire,

Swept on, with his wild eye full of fire.

But lo! He is hearing his heart’s desire;

He is snuffling the smoke of the roaring fray,

            With Sheridan only five miles away.

The first that the General saw were the groups

Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops;

What was done? What to do? A glance told him both,

Then, striking his spurs, with a terrible oath,

He dashed down the line ‘mid a storm of huzzas,

And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because

The sight of the master compelled it to pause.

With foam and with dust the black charger was gray;

By the flash of his eye, and the red nostril’s play,

He seemed to the whole great army to say,

“I have brought you Sheridan all the way

                         From Winchester down to save the day!”

Hurrah! Hurrah for Sheridan!

Hurrah! Hurrah for horse and man!

And when their statues are placed on high,

Under the dome of the Union sky,

The American soldier’s Temple of Fame;

There with the glorious general’s name,

Be it said, in letters both bold and bright

            “Here is the steed that saved the day,

By carrying Sheridan into the fight,

            From Winchester, twenty miles away!”

Will words building resolve propel us someday
 to take our ‘twenty mile ride’ into the fray
 so we can do our part and help ‘save our day’? 
 I pray so.