Ray Kurzweil - How to Create a Mind - The Secret of Human Thought Revealed

The next step, of course, will be to expand the neocortex itself with its nonbiological equivalent. This will be our ultimate act of creativity: to create the capability of being creative. A nonbiological neocortex will ultimately be faster and could rapidly search for the kinds of metaphors that inspired Darwin and Einstein. It could systematically explore all of the overlapping boundaries between our exponentially expanding frontiers of knowledge.

Some people express concern about what will happen to those who would opt out of such mind expansion. I would point out that this additional intelligence will essentially reside in the cloud (the exponentially expanding network of computers that we connect to through online communication), where most of our machine intelligence is now stored. When you use a search engine, recognize speech from your phone, consult a virtual assistant such as Siri, or use your phone to translate a sign into another language, the intelligence is not in the device itself but in the cloud. Our expanded neocortex will be housed there too. Whether we access such expanded intelligence through direct neural connection or the way we do now—by interacting with it via our devices—is an arbitrary distinction. In my view we will all become more creative through this pervasive enhancement, whether we choose to opt in or out of direct connection to humanity’s expanded intelligence. We have already outsourced much of our personal, social, historical, and cultural memory to the cloud, and we will ultimately do the same thing with our hierarchical thinking.

Einstein’s breakthrough resulted not only from his application of metaphors through mind experiments but also from his courage in believing in the power of those metaphors. He was willing to relinquish the traditional explanations that failed to satisfy his experiments, and he was willing to withstand the ridicule of his peers to the bizarre explanations that his metaphors implied. These qualities—belief in metaphor and courage of conviction—are ones that we should be able to program into our nonbiological neocortex as well.

If you haven’t actually experienced ecstatic love personally, you have undoubtedly heard about it. It is fair to say that a substantial fraction if not a majority of the world’s art—stories, novels, music, dance, paintings, television shows, and movies—is inspired by the stories of love in its earliest stages.

Science has recently gotten into the act as well, and we are now able to identify the biochemical changes that occur when someone falls in love. Dopamine is released, producing feelings of happiness and delight. Norepinephrine levels soar, which lead to a racing heart and overall feelings of exhilaration. These chemicals, along with phenylethylamine, produce elation, high energy levels, focused attention, loss of appetite, and a general craving for the object of one’s desire. Interestingly, recent research at University College in London also shows that serotonin levels go down, similar to what happens in obsessive-compulsive disorder, which is consistent with the obsessive nature of early love. 2 The high levels of dopamine and norepinephrine account for the heightened short-term attention, euphoria, and craving of early love.

If these biochemical phenomena sound similar to those of the fight-or-flight syndrome, they are, except that here we are running toward something or someone; indeed, a cynic might say toward rather than away from danger. The changes are also fully consistent with those of the early phases of addictive behavior. The Roxy Music song “Love Is the Drug” is quite accurate in describing this state (albeit the subject of the song is looking to score his next fix of love). Studies of ecstatic religious experiences also show the same physical phenomena; it can be said that the person having such an experience is falling in love with God or whatever spiritual connection on which they are focused.

In the case of early romantic love, estrogen and testosterone certainly play a role in establishing sex drive, but if sexual reproduction were the only evolutionary objective of love, then the romantic aspect of the process would not be necessary. As psychologist John William Money (1921–2006) wrote, “Lust is lewd, love is lyrical.”

The ecstatic phase of love leads to the attachment phase and ultimately to a long-term bond. There are chemicals that encourage this process as well, including oxytocin and vasopressin. Consider two related species of voles: the prairie vole and the montane vole. They are pretty much identical, except that the prairie vole has receptors for oxytocin and vasopressin, whereas the montane vole does not. The prairie vole is noted for lifetime monogamous relationships, while the montane vole resorts almost exclusively to one-night stands. In the case of voles, the oxytocin and vasopressin receptors are pretty much determinative as to the nature of their love life.

While these chemicals are influential on humans as well, our neocortex has taken a commanding role, as in everything else we do. Voles do have a neocortex, but it is postage-stamp sized and flat and just large enough for them to find a mate for life (or, in the case of montane voles, at least for the night) and carry out other basic vole behaviors. We humans have sufficient additional neocortex to engage in the expansive “lyrical” expressions to which Money refers.

From an evolutionary perspective, love itself exists to meet the needs of the neocortex. If we didn’t have a neocortex, then lust would be quite sufficient to guarantee reproduction. The ecstatic instigation of love leads to attachment and mature love, and results in a lasting bond. This in turn is designed to provide at least the possibility of a stable environment for children while their own neocortices undergo the critical learning needed to become responsible and capable adults. Learning in a rich environment is inherently part of the method of the neocortex. Indeed the same oxytocin and vasopressin hormone mechanisms play a key role in establishing the critical bonding of parent (especially mother) and child.

At the far end of the story of love, a loved one becomes a major part of our neocortex. After decades of being together, a virtual other exists in the neocortex such that we can anticipate every step of what our lover will say and do. Our neocortical patterns are filled with the thoughts and patterns that reflect who they are. When we lose that person, we literally lose part of ourselves. This is not just a metaphor—all of the vast pattern recognizers that are filled with the patterns reflecting the person we love suddenly change their nature. Although they can be considered a precious way to keep that person alive within ourselves, the vast neocortical patterns of a lost loved one turn suddenly from triggers of delight to triggers of mourning.

The evolutionary basis for love and its phases is not the full story in today’s world. We have already largely succeeded in liberating sex from its biological function, in that we can have babies without sex and we can certainly have sex without babies. The vast majority of sex takes place for its sensual and relational purposes. And we routinely fall in love for purposes other than raising children.