Chapter 1 establishes the foundational concepts of neuroimaging by exploring the complex relationship between brain structure and mental function. It traces the historical progression from ancient surgical approaches to modern noninvasive techniques, contextualizing how technological innovations have transformed our understanding of neural processes. The chapter examines the multiscale nature of brain investigation, from single-neuron recordings to population-level measurements, and evaluates the critical tradeoffs between spatial and temporal resolution across imaging modalities. Key neurophysiological principles underlying these technologies are introduced, including neuronal action potentials, hemodynamic responses, and the chemical processes that support neural activity. The text challenges common neuromyths while addressing fundamental questions about functional organization, from modular specialization to distributed network processing. By comparing the relative strengths and limitations of major neuroimaging tools (fMRI, EEG, MEG, PET, and TMS), the chapter provides an analytical framework for understanding how these methodologies collectively advance our ability to correlate brain activity with cognitive and behavioral processes, setting the stage for more detailed exploration in subsequent chapters.

This chapter is about how William James’s ideas about consciousness can elucidate our understanding of what literature is and does. The thrust of the argument is that James’s psychology, in its insistence on and poetic invocation of consciousness as being nothing outside of the processing of the world as experienced, and the radically experiential and pluralistic philosophy built on this claim, offers a powerful alternative to the psychoanalytical models of consciousness as a mechanism of suppression and censorship that dominate the field of literary studies to this day, with vast implications for our conception of literature’s social function and use. The aim is to show how James’s ideas about consciousness are endowed with a radical openness to sense perception that comes with both an aesthetics of cognition and an ethics of democratic receptivity in tow; and to demonstrate that James fathoms these two strands as mutually engaged in a world-making operation that necessitates a literary imagination.

This chapter contributes to the rich vein of scholarly literature around the relationship between William and Henry James in his exploration of the latter’s presentation of consciousness – and attempts to probe it – in Washington Square. Drawing on William’s “conception of truth as matter of inductive fallibilism” as well as his psychology of religious belief, this essay uncovers the dynamic at the center of the novel: The struggle between the overbearing Dr. Sloper and his daughter Catherine, whose consciousness moves, through the course of the novel, out of the reach of his ability to probe and thus control it. Concluding with an articulation of the novel’s “ethics of opacity” – its refusal of our urge toward the fixation of belief – this reading of the Jameses provides a granular case study of the deep resonance between the brothers’ thinking and writing.

James insisted on the existence and importance of consciousness and, unlike so many explorers in the new field of psychology, he resisted any idea of the unconscious or of intelligent automatisms, like “unconscious cerebration.” But his “stream of consciousness” included not only definite images, but also the “free water of consciousness” that flows around them, which he would call a “halo,” “penumbra,” or most often, a “fringe.” This was the elusive, transitory territory of “the vague” and evanescent, the peripheral and unarticulated, of feelings, recognitions, meaningfulness. Not unconscious, but on the margin, it provided the necessary context for the focus of attention. This essay extends James’s conception (more fully than he did) to aesthetic experience, which is also nondiscursive, unarticulable, ineffable – but not unconscious. And it draws James’s “fringe” into the twenty-first century by nudging it toward the nonconscious cognitive processing that has captured the interest of so much contemporary psychology.

This manifesto argues that education should incorporate philosophical exploration to help young people address existential questions and find meaning and purpose in their lives. The manifesto suggests that to understand the meaning of one’s life, one must consider personal existence and consciousness and the reality beyond the here and now. It proposes that education should provide a neutral forum for discussing these big questions, without bias towards any particular belief system, and incorporating both scientific and spiritual perspectives. By engaging in such philosophical discourse, young people can develop a clearer sense of self and purpose, fostering resilience, mental well-being and a commitment to values and moral behaviour. This can support them to survive and thrive through the opportunities and challenges of the future.

Like their forerunners, post-Hellenistic doctors also grappled with the unclear boundaries between healthy versus pathologic sleep, and consciousness-unconsciousness. Furthermore, they incorporated new diseases and redefined others - like lethargy - that were specifically associated with this process. Celsus considered sleep as all-or-nothing phenomenon, without recognising different depths. Regarding mental capacities, he subsumed most of them in his idea of mens/animus. Aretaeus, on the other hand did conceive different depths of sleep, and his eclectic method enabled him to find alternative pathophysiological explanations to characterise several of its main features. Similarly, although his organization of mental capacities varied according to what he was explaining, the opposition gnômê-aisthêsis was important in his idea of mind.

Some Hippocratic doctors regarded sleep as a healthy process, and some as a pathological one; some of them struggled to distinguish between hallucinations and nightmares, and some between deep dreamless sleep and total loss of consciousness. This chapter explores how different treatises from the Hippocratic corpus navigated these ambiguities, how they explained different depth of sleep (i.e. different levels of consciousness), and how such understanding relates to their views on mental capacities (which they subsumed in concepts such as phronesis, sunesis, gnômê, and nous).

Ch. 6 New developments in science and philosophy can led to a new natural theology based on induction and probability. Natural theology today requires insights from the sciences, analytic philosophy, and hermeneutics.

This introductory chapter presents and contextualises the main sources under study, and addresses the problems of a definition of consciousness. Given the vagueness of the notion, a working definition is proposed, which is based on cognitive model that uses three prototypical clinical presentations of impaired consciousness: delirium, sleep and fainting.

This chapter presents sleep within a system of opposing tensions (consciousness-unconsciousness, health-disease), and in the midst of extra biological debates, particularly anthropological and sociological. Such tensions and debates illuminate how understanding sleep can be useful to apprehend ancient doctors’ ideas about the mental capacities that are compromised in impaired consciousness.

In face of the difficulty of establishing clear biological boundaries between sleep and the other forms of impaired consciousness, the sociological and anthropological analyses can provide hints as to where those limits were set in real life. The terminological analysis suggested a common feature that persisted throughout the different authors and periods: different levels of consciousness (from drowsy to hyperactive, and from delirium to koma) where always related to the impairment of mental capacities, regardless of the way in which each medical writer grouped or understood them.

Galen conceived sleep and wakefulness as a continuum that depended on the mixture of qualities within the ruling part of the puschê (the hêgemonikon) located in the brain. Naturally, in his system whenever pathological sleep occurred the doctor needed to determine if the brain was affected directly or by sympathy (from another organ), and the precise imbalance of qualities that needed to be counteracted by their opposites. His idea of mind was very accurately and hierarchically structured: it resided in the logical part of the soul, located in the brain, and several diseases with impaired consciousness compromised its normal functioning.

If the history of human rights shows anything, it shows that claim-making has no predetermined agents, and this volume nods to the rights of the non-human in a chapter by Jim Davies, who analyzes what might be at stake in the recognition of artificial intelligence not just as an instrumental tool, but a rights-bearing claimant in its own right. Indeed, Davies pursues this possibility through an analogy with the rise of entitlements of non-human nature, especially non-human animals.