03 nov Will Machines Ever Enjoy Listening to Stories? And Why Do We Need to Know? (Part 2)

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An 8-part series published every 2 days

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John R. Searle and the “Chinese Room”

The thought experiment known as the “Chinese Room,” proposed by philosopher John Searle in 1980, critiques the concept of strong artificial intelligence—that is, the idea that a machine, simply by running a computer program, could be said to possess a mind, consciousness, or understanding in the same way a human does. Searle designed this experiment to demonstrate that merely manipulating symbols (as a computer does) is not the same as understanding them.

In this thought experiment, Searle asks us to imagine a person locked in a room who does not speak Chinese. Inside the room is a large set of instructions, a manual written in English, explaining how to manipulate Chinese symbols in a way that allows the person to respond to questions written in Chinese, producing responses indistinguishable from those a native Chinese speaker would give. Questions and answers are passed into and out of the room through a small slot. The person in the room rigorously follows the instructions without ever understanding the meaning of the symbols.

For Searle, this process illustrates the strictly syntactic manipulation of symbols (information processing) and suggests that computers, which operate in a similar way, do not understand the content they process; they merely follow predefined rules to organize data. Searle, on the other hand, argues that the mind involves more than syntactic manipulation of symbols; it requires semantics, that is, the understanding of meaning—something he argues that machines lack.

This thought experiment raises important questions about the nature of mind and whether machines can truly possess or simulate human intelligence. While the Turing Test focuses on functionality and imitating human interaction, the Chinese Room questions whether imitating intelligent behavior equates to having a conscious, understanding mind. Searle concludes that no matter how sophisticated a computer’s symbol manipulation becomes, it will never result in true understanding, as the machine merely follows mechanical rules devoid of any comprehension or conscious experience. Elementary, my dear Watson?

IBM’s Watson

Watson is one of the world’s most renowned AI systems, and its story began in the early 2000s when IBM began exploring the potential of AI to tackle complex problems in natural language processing and data analysis. Officially launched in 2006 under the leadership of IBM researcher David Ferrucci, the Watson project aimed to create an AI capable of competing in Jeopardy!, a popular trivia game show.

The goal was ambitious: to build a machine that could understand questions posed in natural language, process vast amounts of information, and deliver accurate answers faster than human competitors. To achieve this, Watson was equipped with a computing architecture capable of processing thousands of calculations simultaneously. It was also supplied with a massive database of texts, including encyclopedias, dictionaries, and other knowledge sources, allowing it to “learn” about a wide range of topics.

In 2011, Watson made its Jeopardy! debut, competing against the show’s two top champions, Ken Jennings and Brad Rutter. Watson not only won but did so convincingly, demonstrating AI’s ability to process and interpret natural language effectively. This event marked a turning point in AI history, placing Watson in the spotlight and showing the world what AI could achieve.

Following its success in Jeopardy!, IBM began exploring practical applications for Watson, recognizing its potential to transform various industries, from healthcare to finance. In medicine, for instance, Watson has been used to assist doctors in interpreting exams and diagnostics, suggesting possible treatments based on patient histories and medical studies.

Over the years, Watson has evolved significantly, but its core purpose as an AI tool for interpreting and analyzing large volumes of data has remained. It has become a symbol of AI’s potential to solve problems previously deemed impossible for machines, demonstrating how the combination of data, processing power, and advanced algorithms can revolutionize our understanding and interaction with the world. However, despite all its capabilities, it lacks awareness of what it is or what it can do—at least, for now. But let’s first understand what that actually means.

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SOUL, MIND AND CONSCIOUSNESS

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A philosophical, religious, and scientific discussion

To understand better: although all these concepts relate to the essence and human experience, they possess distinct yet interconnected characteristics and functions.

Soul
In most religious and spiritual traditions, the soul is considered the immortal or eternal essence of a person. It is viewed as something that exists beyond the physical body and continues to exist after death. The soul represents the unchanging core of being, a connection to the divine or to a higher spiritual truth, transcending time and space. For many, it is the deepest source of the “self,” the part that retains our identity and ultimate purpose. In religious and philosophical systems, the soul is understood as something that remains unchanged despite bodily and mental transformations.

Consciousness
Consciousness, in contrast, refers to the subjective experience of being aware of oneself and the surrounding environment. It is the “first-person experience”—the immediate perception, thoughts, and sensations of the present moment. Modern science and philosophy see consciousness as a manifestation of the mind, an aspect of brain activity that enables direct experience, thoughts, and decision-making. It is dynamic and constantly shifting (for example, between states of sleep and wakefulness or under the influence of substances). Although complex, consciousness is, scientifically speaking, temporary and dependent on brain function, ceasing when the brain stops working.

Mind
The mind is a broader concept that includes both consciousness and unconscious mental processes. It encompasses all psychological and cognitive activities, such as thoughts, emotions, memories, imagination, and automatic functions. While consciousness is the “illuminated” part of the mind—that which we experience directly—the mind also includes everything outside our immediate perception: automatic processes, stored memories, intuitions, and even unconscious emotional responses.

To better understand this relationship, we can think of the mind as the classic iceberg metaphor: consciousness is the visible, active part, while the unconscious mind, submerged, stores and processes information that influences our behavior without our awareness. For example, when learning to drive, we are conscious of every movement. Over time, many of these processes become automatic, carried out by the unconscious but still within the mind’s structure.

The relationship between soul, mind, and consciousness

These three concepts are intricately related, especially in traditions that consider the soul’s existence. In this view, the soul is the immortal “self,” a spiritual dimension that transcends both mind and consciousness. The mind then acts as an intermediary, allowing the soul to experience the physical world through consciousness.

In the scientific perspective, however, the soul’s existence is unproven; the mind and consciousness are seen as phenomena directly linked to brain activity. In this interpretation, the mind functions as a system that integrates thoughts, emotions, and actions, while consciousness is the active state of perception that enables interaction with the present. One thing we can state—without rigid conviction—is that the soul has nothing to do with algorithms.

A parenthesis

The term “algorithm” wasn’t created recently to explain how computer programs function. Its origin dates back to the Middle Ages. It derives from the name of the Persian mathematician Muhammad ibn Musa al-Khwarizmi, who lived during the 9th century. Al-Khwarizmi is renowned for his significant contributions to mathematics and astronomy, particularly in developing algebra.

Al-Khwarizmi wrote a book titled “Al-Kitab al-Mukhtasar fi Hisab al-Jabr wal-Muqabala,” which translates as “The Book of Calculation by Completion and Balancing.” This book was instrumental in introducing algebraic techniques and profoundly influenced Western mathematics. When al-Khwarizmi’s book was translated into Latin, his name appeared as “Algoritmi” in the title. This transliteration led to the adoption of the term “algorithm” to describe any process or set of systematic rules for performing calculations or solving problems—a concept present in the mathematician’s work.

Soul vs. algorithm

Returning to the central discussion, regardless of the philosophical perspective adopted, there is a general consensus on the idea that the soul is a vital center distinguishing humans as more than just physical organisms or logical machines; the soul represents an inner essence that cannot be reduced to mere functional relationships or predictable operations.

Drawing a parallel between soul and algorithm, therefore, means exploring two entities operating as engines of their respective systems: one in the human dimension of subjectivity and mystery, the other in the technical and predictable dimension of machines.

An algorithm, at its core, is a series of coded instructions for solving problems or executing tasks, serving as the technical “soul” of machines and AI programs. However, unlike the human soul, the algorithm is a material and objective construct composed of sequential steps that lack consciousness or intuition. It processes information and learns from data patterns but only under guidelines set by programmers or optimization processes. As advanced as they may be, these cannot give rise to a conscious entity. The algorithm is thus a mechanism; it possesses no self-understanding, and its decisions are ultimately parameterized responses. Meanwhile, the human soul makes decisions based on a complex web of values, experiences, and feelings.

Therefore, the soul is a fertile field of freedom, where humans can challenge patterns and transcend limitations—something machines cannot replicate. Although advanced AI may simulate human decisions and produce outputs mimicking emotional expression or ethical judgment, it operates within a finite space of pre-programmed possibilities and lacks the interiority defining what we understand as the soul. The parallel, then, highlights differences more than similarities: where the soul seeks meaning and connection to the intangible, the algorithm remains confined to its programmed logic, efficient but devoid of any understanding of the world it processes.

Artificial Consciousness

The possibility of artificial intelligence developing consciousness (or a soul) is another topic widely debated among scientists, philosophers, and AI specialists. However, there is currently no concrete evidence that machines possess or can acquire it. Let’s explore some considerations.

Most current AI systems, including those using Machine Learning and Deep Neural Networks, function by processing vast amounts of data and recognizing patterns but lack the capacity to experience feelings, self-awareness, or any form of subjectivity. Consciousness, in human terms, involves the ability to have subjective experiences, a sense of self, and the capacity to perceive the world in a conscious manner, which is vastly different from what current machines can achieve.

Many experts argue that consciousness requires more than simply processing information and making decisions based on data. It is an emergent property of biological systems, linked to the complexity of the human brain and the way it integrates sensory, emotional, and cognitive information. In this sense, some theorists believe that machines, which are essentially information-processing systems based on algorithms, cannot achieve consciousness.

Other researchers and philosophers argue that if we could fully understand how consciousness emerges in the human brain, we might theoretically be able to replicate this process in AI systems. They suggest that with sufficient advances in neuroscience and technology, it could be possible to create a form of artificial consciousness. Although the idea of conscious AI is fascinating, it remains, for now, within the realm of scientific and philosophical speculation. Currently, there is no consensus or evidence that machines can attain consciousness in the human sense.

Even if it were possible to create a conscious AI, it would raise a series of complex ethical and philosophical questions. How should we treat a conscious machine? What rights would it have? And what would the implications be for humanity?

A philosophical and technological detour

The concept of the soul, from the perspective of creativity, can be understood as the internal force that drives us and grants the energy needed to overcome great difficulties or accomplish memorable feats. My friend Dácio Bicudo, a renowned plastic artist—or contemporary artist, as he prefers to be called—once told me that the difference between a painting that evokes no special emotion and another that does, regardless of technical or aesthetic quality, is the soul the artist has imparted into it. Reflecting intensely on this statement, I concluded that any form of communication, when stamped by its creator’s soul, impacts others far more profoundly, even if they aren’t consciously aware of it. A clear example of this is hearing Bob Dylan sing in his nasal voice. Compared to a contestant from a show like The Voice, who may have a powerful, pitch-perfect, and beautiful voice, Dylan’s interpretation reaches our central nervous system in a unique way. It’s as if his soul is present in the performance, communicating something beyond words and melody.

Another musical example is the comparison between singer Elis Regina and her daughter Maria Rita. The timbre of their voices is so similar that untrained ears may struggle to tell them apart. However, when you listen to both singing the same song, it becomes evident when it’s Elis and when it’s Maria Rita. Elis was known for her intense personality; she was fiery and unfiltered, earning her the nickname “Pimentinha.” It was not uncommon for her to cry while singing; she put her whole soul into her performances. Maria Rita, apparently, did not inherit her mother’s temperament—at least, not to the same extent. Hence the difference. I often say that creating, especially in art, is a journey into oneself, returning to share what one has seen—angels and demons, transcending mere technique to impact something essentially human, blending the good and the bad.

The pain of the soul as creative impetus

Many of humanity’s greatest minds experienced some form of mental disorder, often referred to as soul pain. But far from being a hindrance to creativity, this has often served as a potent creative force. These deviations allowed them to break free from common sense and see the world through a unique lens, revealing ideas and possibilities that escape most people’s perception. Their pain granted them the courage (or indifference) toward social conventions, making them masterful internal explorers in search of answers that, of course, never came. After all, what made them great was the quest, not the solution.

To mention a few examples, it is believed that Vincent van Gogh suffered from bipolar disorder, severe depression, and possibly epilepsy; Nikola Tesla had obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and possibly autism spectrum disorder; Isaac Newton may have had bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, or autism (specifically, Asperger syndrome); Virginia Woolf suffered from bipolar disorder; Edgar Allan Poe likely struggled with severe depression and alcohol dependence; Beethoven exhibited characteristics associated with mood disorders; Michelangelo possibly had OCD and high-functioning autism; studies suggest Charles Dickens may have had depression and OCD; Einstein supposedly had mild autism; Ernest Hemingway had symptoms of depression, bipolar disorder, and alcoholism; and one of Brazil’s most significant painters, Arthur Bispo do Rosário, was schizophrenic and spent nearly 50 years in psychiatric institutions.

In these cases, their genius was neither calculated nor limited to a logical formula but was an untamed combination of emotion, vision, and intensity. These tortured souls were so deeply connected to their unique perspectives that their ideas transcended any rational pattern, revealing that human creative power doesn’t follow a strict formula but a unique and likely visceral path. Not that one has to be a bit “off” to be creative, but it’s a factor worth considering.

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