Would you notice if you were a brain-in-a-vat? Before answering this question, I think we should make note of the problems in it. To answer this question we have to know what a brain-in-a-vat is. If the brain-in-a-vat is a theory of skepticism that our consciousness could possibly be controlled by an outside brain through stimulating various parts of the brain, then the question itself is pointless. In other words, if the brain-in-a-vat theory already presupposes that there is no difference in the content of consciousness, if we could not even tell the difference between the two happenings, then the question is answered already by its being asked. I mean, this essentially is why it’s a skepticism argument: we can’t tell the difference, which means we are surrounded by information that we do not know that affects our consciousness.

However, if the brain-in-a-vat theory does suppose that there is a difference, then we have the same problem: the question is pointless. It would merely answer itself by being asked. Thus, it seems as if we have to have some undecidability in answering the question, starting with the brain-in-a-vat theory, and see the different ways this indecision affects our understanding. In some ways, we are creating this answer, because the answer (as questions seem to give the impression) cannot here precede the understanding of the question.

I think we should ask ourselves here: is there a difference now that we know there is a possibility that our brain is a in a vat? I think the answer is yes. Before pondering the argument of the brain-in-a-vat, or arguments like it (Descartes’ Evil Demon, Pail in the Water, World is created five minutes, etc.), we had assumptions that we made of consciousness. Consciousness seems to have a direct relationship with the world. Not only with the world, but, it seems, with ourselves.

But now, with the Evil Demon or Brain-in-a-vat, we have cut our relationship with the world. It is not assured by consciousness. This switch marks the transition from “knowing objects” to “knowing subjects.” The answer Descartes had was the cogito (”I think therefore I am”); we can be sure of ourselves as subjects. As Daniel Dennett surmises in his book on consciousness, there is no single, central “subject.” Instead, there are multiple subjects that work with each other to some up with a “best fit” knowledge, that can be edited and re-edited later on. Seeing it now, it seems as if the Brain-in-a-vat argument already presupposes Descartes’ cogito: there is a single agent that organizes data into a single place of consciousness. Instead of the organizer being an Evil demon or a neuroscience club member(s), it is a Self, an Ego.

But enough about that. Since we haven’t clearly defined consciousness, and I certainly am not going to attempt it right now, I’m going to attempt to explain what I think is a part of consciousness: possibility. Kierkegaard thought we were subjects moving towards our death, and so did Heidegger and Sartre. In fact, death is inherent to our phenomenology. We are constantly projecting ourselves onto the future.

The brain-in-a-vat, I think, closes off a certain possibility, fixing us into something distinctly possible. A secret that is not anymore told than it was before the argument, except it draws our attention towards it. It tells itself without telling. To think of an example: Othello. His world totally changed once he had the slightest idea that Desdemona could be unfaithful. However, she didn’t have any more possibility of being unfaithful before Iago mentioned it to Othello than after Iago did. But Othello’s whole consciousness, his whole world, changed after considering its likelihood.

So, I apologize: I have changed the question dramatically, but onto something, I think, which is more interesting: does knowing that one’s brain is in a vat change your idea of consciousness? Yes, I think it does.