XII

Hilary Putnam once asked, apropos of something to do with representation (which is a word that means a great deal to many people and great deal more to many others but which, it would seem, means a great deal less to me) whether we could, "if we were brains in a vat...say or think that we were"? Now apart from thinking this would make a great name for a band--Brain in a Vat--I like the image it creates. If the brain could see--and of course I know that the argument is precisely that the brain cannot, in fact, see, but I am no philosopher and in any case they do seem to use a lot of, "Let's imagine," so let's imagine a brain that can see--it would see things fuzzily. This, I assume would be a natural fact of being in a vat. Kind of like being underwater. Once, while diving, I took my mask off and was jolted by the sudden change that occurred--to me, to my sense of safety. So I can only imagine that this brain in a vat would feel like this all the time. Let's imagine this brain in a vat had legs, and walked into a bar. What would it see? The brain could clearly make no sensuously provocative movements to a woman at the bar, since I haven't given it a mouth and besides, who would want to date a brain in a vat? ("Mother, I'd like to introduce you to my brain-in-a-vat.") It would, I suppose, move about, bumping into things, its eyes widening in the hopes of bringing into focus a world wavy by its very nature. It would be drunk without drinking, it would be bad at pool. It would have no way to order a drink. All these things would define it, and yet also fail to define it.

Putnam, in any case, says, "No." But me, I often feel like a brain in a vat.