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Julian Jaynes's Theory of Consciousness and the Bicameral Mind

The Search for Lost Gods and an Innocence of Certainty

Julian Jaynes (from the back cover of his book The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind)

Julian Jaynes (from the back cover of his book The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind)

In his book The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind, Julian Jaynes (1920-1997) presents a radically original and remarkably compelling theory about the nature and evolution of subjective human experience. Although first published in 1976, the book has not received the attention it deserves, perhaps because many find its thesis to be too disturbing. But like others whose ideas initially provoked strong resistance (e.g. those of Copernicus, Darwin and Einstein), Jaynes explains a large body of otherwise inexplicable facts. In making his case he marshalls an encyclopedic knowledge of neuroanatomy, psychology, linguistics, archaeology, history, and literature to develop a story that is nothing less than astounding.

Defining Consciousness

At some level we are all aware of a fundamental dichotomy between subjective experience and objective reality—the so-called ‘mind-body’ dualism that has plagued philosophers for millennia. And on reflection most will agree that this duality only concerns humans—as far as we know other animals live entirely in the here and now, do not introspect, and have little if any self-awareness (much less awareness of awareness).

So what does it mean to be conscious? Philosophers and psychologists continue to grapple with that question. Part of the problem, according to Jaynes, is that consciousness is not any of the things we usually think of it as being. In particular, it is not equivalent to the ‘consciousness of consciousness’ that begat dualism, a notion that only serves to confound attempts at definition. Nor is it synonymous with experience, conceptualization, learning, thinking, reason, or being awake. Each of these latter mental activities functions quite well without conscious attention. For example, most of us have experienced those moments when the solution to a vexing problem simply presents itself, without conscious effort or reflection. Similarly, many songwriters have described how songs seem to write themselves. Skilled musicians and athletes will tell you that conscious attention actually detracts from a performance, and that it is much better to disengage the brain and let the body do what it knows how to do without consciously thinking about it.

Consciousness then is something distinct from most of the activities that we normally attribute to mind. Jaynes defines it as an interior mental representation of the self, a metaphorical “space” of introspection wherein the analog “I” can work through problems to “see” the outcomes of potential solutions. Consciousness is created through metaphorical use of language, which allows the spatialization of time necessary for visualizing “linear” sequences of past events and future outcomes—indeed, without consciousness there is no perception of time. The central role of metaphor in the construction of consciousness is manifest in the way we describe our subjective experience in everyday language: for example, we “see” things in our mind’s “eye”; we have a “gut feeling” that something is true; we love someone with all our “heart”; or we “feel” psychological “pain” (which of course sometimes manifests literally as physical pain, but that’s another story). None of these descriptions of experience is meant literally; they are all metaphorical. But we know exactly what they mean, because that is how consciousness works.

This implies that the metaphorical rendering of language—the purview of poetry—was a pre-requisite for the development of consciousness. The question then is: when did consciousness first emerge? Most will assume that humans have always been conscious. But not so according to Jaynes: although written texts existed much earlier, metaphorical usage did not appear until about the first millennium BC, beginning about the time of the Odyssey. Before that language usage was entirely literal—metaphor is largely absent in the Illiad. If consciousness is based on the use of metaphor, this would suggest that prior to ~3000 years ago humans were not conscious. And yet by that time civilization had already existed for several millennia. How was this possible? The answer is that the first civilizations were built not through conscious effort, but rather by humans obediently—and quite unconsciously—following the vocal commands of their gods.

Bicameral vs. Conscious Mentality in a Nutshell

Unlike consciousness, which involves an internal dialogue with one's self, the bicameral mind has little or no self-awareness, with thoughts and other internal percepts instead appearing to come from the outside. By affording inner "space" for back-and-forth deliberation, conscious mentality grants the freedom to choose (i.e., free will), whereas the bicameral mind is a one-way street, constrained to following its own orders. Lying for the purpose of personal gain is thus a hallmark of consciousness, as is morality. The bicameral mind is incapable of intentional deceipt and lacks the capacity for moral reasoning. It is, in essence, innocent.

The Bicameral Mind of Preconscious Humans

Jaynes’s study of ancient texts (including the Illiad) and other artifacts suggests that prior to the emergence of consciousness humans were motivated by—literally slaves to—hallucinated voices that told them what to do, a phenomenon akin to that experienced by modern day schizophrenics. To the person hearing them, hallucinated voices seem just as real—and just as external—as actual voices, because their perception involves the same auditory apparatus of the brain. Like most brain functions this apparatus is contained in both hemispheres. In contrast, the brain circuitry required for speech is confined entirely to the left hemisphere, as shown by the fact that people with brain injuries to that area cannot speak, but can still hear and comprehend the speech of others. The normal function of the equivalent region in the right hemisphere has long been a mystery; indeed, it is often assumed not to be necessary, as unlike the left side, it can be removed without major adverse effects. Jaynes posits that this region within the right hemisphere is a vestige of an ancestral structure whose function was to generate hallucinated commands. Evidence for this comes from experiments wherein subjects claimed to hear voices when the region in question was electrically stimulated.

As far as bicameral humans were concerned, the hallucinated voices came from gods. Early on gods and kings were one and the same, so the hallucinations probably sounded much like the actual voice of the king. In this way the god-king was perceived to command his subjects even without being in their presence, promoting social coherence. Ancient societies would preserve the bodies of deceased kings, seated within shrines, where they would be presented with food and other offerings. This ritualistic behavior provided cues that stimulated auditory hallucinations (perhaps accompanied by visual hallucinations as often occurs with schizophrenia) perceived as commands issuing from the body of the god-king. As civilizations grew and became more complex and hierarchically stratified, the shrines developed into pyramids (on both sides of the Atlantic), and statues and idols were used instead of corpses to cue the commandments of the gods. After the advent of writing, reading evoked the auditory hallucinations. Thus, through various means of induction, internal voices attributed to external gods literally spoke to, and thereby commanded the unconscious actions of, their human subjects.

Jaynes theorizes that the bicameral mind developed concomitantly with language, the emergence of which was a prerequisite for civilization. Humans are social animals, and in animal societies the size of the group is limited by the mode of communication. Nonhuman primate societies are kept relatively small owing to simple patterns of vocal communication, and this is likely to have been true for prehistoric humans as well, who probably lacked complex language (which would explain why human culture remained so rudimentary for hundreds of thousands of years). As language developed along with agriculture, the resulting enhancement of both communication and division of labor allowed societies to become larger and more complex. Jaynes suggests that this was facilitated by the independent but correlated development of mechanisms for vocalization (confined to the left hemisphere of the brain) and induction of auditory hallucinations (confined to the right hemisphere). Whenever habitual activities were stymied by novel problems requiring a decision, hallucinated commands induced by the stress of uncertainty (as occurs in contemporary schizophrenics) would have directed creative solutions that were also socially constructive, being perceived as emanating from an acknowledged authority. Cultural entrainment would have ensured that the hallucinated commands were more or less consistent with the interests of the group. Because of the adaptive benefits of large coordinated societies, natural selection would have favored the evolution of the bicameral mind.

From this it should be clear why Jaynes’s theory is disturbing to many: it provides a provocative albeit quite compelling explanation for the natural origins of religious belief. The ancients who wrote of being commanded by the spoken words of their gods were not being metaphorical—they were being literal. But those voices originated inside heir heads. It wasn’t until the voices began to recede that words began to adopt metaphorical meanings, paving the way for the emergence of consciousness as we know it, and with it the pernicious illusion of mind-body dualism. But why did the voices depart?

The Old Testament: Chronicling the Breakdown

The breakdown of bicameral mentality is beautifully chronicled in the Old Testament, as is apparent in a comparison of the two 'purest' books: Amos (dating from the still largely bicameral eighth century BC) and Ecclesiastes (dating from the fully conscious second century BC). And the anguished story of Saul in Book I of Samuel is particularly telling.

Quoting Jaynes (p. 313):

[T]he Old Testament, even as it is hedged with great historical problems of accuracy, still remains the richest sourcce for our knowledge of what the transition period was like. It is essentially the story of the loss of the bicameral mind, the slow retreat into silence of the remaining elohim [i.e. god voices], the confusion and tragic violence which ensue, and the search for them again in vain among its prophets until a substitute is found in right action [i.e. morality].

"But the mind is still haunted with its old unconscious ways; it broods on lost authorities; and the yearning, the deep and hollowing yearning for divine volition and service is with us still.

'As the stag pants after the waterbrooks,

So pants my mind after you, O gods!

My mind thirsts for gods! for living gods!

When shall I come face to face with gods?'

--Psalm 42

Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind in the First Millennium BC

In the Middle East, the second millennium BC was a period of extreme turmoil caused by environmental catastrophes and collapsing civilizations (perhaps not unlike what we are beginning to experience today). Widespread famine led to mass migrations, resulting in the intermixing of populations that had previously been segregated, and hence had developed different cultures and languages. The resulting social discord and chaos probably would have reduced the appropriateness, and hence efficacy, of bicameral commands previously entrained by homogeneous enculturation, exacerbating the conflict. For whatever reason, historical artifacts and texts from this time indicate that the gods became more and more remote and harder to access, requiring special divination by trained oracles and prophets, and the use of occult practices, omens, meditation, chanting and psychotropic drugs. A dark age ensued in which social control, no longer achievable through the culturally coordinated hallucination of divine commands, was instead maintained by the ruthless violence of secular rulers.

At the center of this cultural maelstrom was Greece. The conflict was recorded in oral traditions that ultimately became the epic poems Illiad and Odyssey. Although often attributed to a single author named Homer, Jaynes contends that these poems are more likely amalgamated texts that initially drew on the oral traditions, and were later added to by various authors (an opinion that at least some other scholars share). Jaynes’s analysis reveals a striking change in the use of language, moving from the Illiad’s highly literal recitation of events in the final weeks of the Trojan War, a tale in which the gods were present, vocal, and played a leading role, through the Odyssey’s more metaphorical recounting of the adventures of the wily war hero Odysseus, who being removed from the gods had to rely on his own cunning in dealing with semi-gods and nefarious agents such as sirens and the Cyclops. A similar trajectory of change had occurred a few centuries earlier in Assyria, wherein a void left by the withdrawal of gods in human form was filled by the more fantastical genies. According to Jaynes this documents the initial stages of the breakdown of the bicameral mind.

Poetry became increasingly metaphorical in the first millennium BC, such that by the 6th century words were wielded much like they are in contemporary poetry. Jaynes traces the change via seven Greek words: thumos, phrenes, noos, and psyche, which in contemporary usage translate as mind, spirit, or soul; and kradie, ker, and etor, with modern translations as heart, mind, or spirit. In the Illiad, these words are instead used objectively (i.e. literally)—for example, thumos refers to a person’s activity; phrenes probably refers to the lungs; noos to sight, and psyche to life or breath. Only later, by way of preconscious transitional usages that Jaynes refers to as hypostases, wherein the words came to refer to internal sensations, did they acquire their later metaphorical connotations—by which, for example, noos came to mean insight (the mind’s “eye”), and psyche came to mean spirit, or consciousness itself. This set the stage for the blossoming of the Greek intellect that soon followed, laying the foundations of Western philosophy and science, and forever changing the world.

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But just as significantly, it led to the birth of dualism. Psyche, which originally referred to life, is the opposite of soma, originally corpse or deadness. But after the metaphorical transformation psyche came to mean spirit (or soul), and as a consequence its opposite soma acquired the meaning of body. And thus was born the dualistic notion that the soul is opposed to, and hence distinctly separate from, the body—the confounding ‘consciousness of consciousness’ that haunts us to this day. Quoting Jaynes (p. 291, first edition):

“In Pindar, Heraclitus, and others around 500 B.C., psyche and nous begin to coalesce. It is now the conscious subjective mind-space and its self that is opposed to the material body. Cults spring up about this new wonder-provoking division between psyche and soma. It both excites and seems to explain the new conscious experience, thus reinforcing its very existence. The conscious psyche is imprisoned in the body as in a tomb. It becomes an object of wide-eyed controversy. Where is it? And the locations in the body or outside it vary. What is it made of? Water (Thales), blood, air (Anaximenes), breath (Xenophanes), fire (Heraclitus), and so on, as the science of it all begins in a morass of pseudoquestions.

“So dualism, that central difficulty in this problem of consciousness, begins its huge haunted career through history, to be firmly set in the firmament of thought by Plato, moving through Gnosticism into the great religions, up through the arrogant assurances of Descartes to become one of the great spurious quandaries of modern psychology.”

The Divine Language of Poetry

The reason that early texts such as the Iliad are poems is that this is how the hallucinated gods communicated. And modern poetry retains vestiges of such divine inspiration, the muse of the poet. Jaynes asks (p. 361):

What unseen light leads us to such dark practice? And why does poetry flash with recongintion of thoughts we did no know we had, finding its unsure way to something in us that knows and has known all the time, something, I think, older than the present organization of our nature?

And answering his own question:

I shall state my thesis plain. The first poets were gods. Poetry began with the bicameral mind. The god-side of our ancient mentality, at least in a certain period of history, usually or perhaps always spoke in verse. This means that most men at one time, throughout the day, were hearing poetry (of a sort) composed and spoken within their own minds.

Vestiges of the Bicameral Mind

It is thus ironic that poetry, wherein metaphor finds its strongest expression, is a vestige of the bicameral mind. However, poetry’s primitive character is rhythm, stemming from its origination as song. Rhythmic meter (e.g. that of chanting, and music in general) engages the region in the right hemisphere of the brain that Jaynes suggests was involved in producing divine hallucinations. And indeed, people with an impaired ability to speak (e.g. due to stroke or speech impediments) are often quite adept at singing. And if you think about it (particularly if you are musically inclined) you will probably agree that being moved by music and poetry is not a conscious choice.

Hypnotism is another mysterious phenomenon that may explained by vestigial bicamerality. Subjects under hypnotic trance are quite amenable to the ‘power of suggestion’, and to the extent that they are, are no longer operating under their own (conscious) free will, but rather under the commands of the hypnotist. This has been a mystery since its discovery in 1842 by Scottish surgeon James Braid (1795-1860), a student of the animal magnetism theory of Franz Messmer (1734-1815; from whom we get the word ‘mesmerize’). Hypnotism makes sense if one considers that it taps into the vestiges of the bicameral mind, which was organized to receive and automatically respond to vocal commands from a perceived authority. This again suggests that a vestige of bicameral mind still exists, but remains undeveloped (and unused) in most people owing to the very different enculturation engendered by consciousness.

Finally, as might be surmised from the foregoing discussion, Jaynes’s theory helps explain schizophrenia, which can be viewed as a bicameral atavism. Unfortunately for the schizophrenic, the culture that co-evolved with bicamerality no longer exists, so the condition is now considered a mental illness. Quoting Jaynes (p. 432):

“The modern schizophrenic is an individual in search of a culture. But he retains usually some part of the subjective consciousness that struggles against this more primitive mental organization, that tries to establish some kind of control in the middle of a mental organization in which the hallucination ought to do the controlling. In effect, he is a mind bared to his environment, waiting on gods in a godless world.”

If one considers that schizophrenia is likely to represent the extremity of a spectrum of mental conditions, it is fair to ask: how much presence does the bicameral mind actually retain in modern humanity? Most if not all of us are conscious; but are some of us more conscious than others? And does some fraction of the contemporary population consist of individuals who would not be considered (or diagnosed as) schizophrenic, but who are nonetheless susceptible to occasional (perhaps even frequent) auditory hallucinations? And of these, how many are thus compelled to find religion? Similarly, how many crimes are committed unconsciously at the behest of hallucinated commands (making the perpetrators ‘innocent by reason of insanity’)?

Implications of Jaynes’s Theory for Religion and Science

It is not surprising that few are willing to entertain the central premise of The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind. Its inescapable implications will undoubtedly provoke strong reactions from True Believers of any stripe. For example, if Jaynes is right, then the God of Abraham was a hallucinated voice. But that makes at least as much (and in my opinion much more) sense than any of the alternative interpretations. In light of Jaynes’s theory, the myth of the fall—paradise lost precipitated by humans eating from the tree of knowledge—represents the breakdown of the bicameral mind, which left humanity to its own devices, free for the first time to ponder and choose between alternate paths, and thus to create its own destiny.

But Jaynes’s theory has equally unsettling implications for science, which is the ultimate extension of, as well as a reaction to, subjective consciousness. On the one hand science pushes the metaphorical inner-space model of consciousness to its limit, as epitomized by the life-is-a-machine metaphor that dominates modern biomedicine. On the other hand science is constantly fighting the slippery vagueness of metaphorical language, which is why the precise formalism of mathematics is preferred. But as Kurt Goedel proved, the latter has its own limitations: there are truths that cannot be proven mathematically. And the mathematics of Heisenberg proved that the universe is fundamentally uncertain. Despite these limitations, science, like religion, seeks certainty in an uncertain world, in a continuing quest to fill the void left by the breakdown of the bicameral mind. And so Jaynes concludes (p. 446):

“The very notion of truth is a culturally given direction, a part of the pervasive nostalgia for an earlier certainty. The very idea of a universal stability, an eternal firmness of principle out there that can be sought for through the world as might an Arthurian knight for the Grail, is, in the morphology of history, a direct outgrowth of the search for lost gods in the first two millennia after the decline of the bicameral mind. What was then an augury for direction of action among the ruins of an archaic mentality is now the search for an innocence of certainty among the mythologies of facts.”


Ron Hooft from Ottawa on November 09, 2017:

Thanks. Well I can't say I agree with all his ideas. One in particular being his time line. I've spent my life on these ideas as well, and it's interesting to see the similarities.

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on November 09, 2017:

Here's a relevant article:

Ron Hooft from Ottawa on November 08, 2017:

Well I'm glad to hear that. I guess time will tell. But I think this the right track for study. It has a good chance of proving true.

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on November 08, 2017:

A few mainstream researchers are cognizant of the ideas and are taking them seriously enough to test them. The work has been buried for a long time because so many dismissed it as crackpot without looking more closely. On a side note, it is getting more into the public consciousness (as it were); for example, it is the premise of the new HBO series 'Westworld'.

Ron Hooft from Ottawa on November 07, 2017:

It would be nice if these ideas made it in to the minds of mainstream researchers so they can be tested. The logic is good, but empirical evidence would be nice.

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on June 04, 2013:

Thanks for the comment Asterix. Regarding your assertion about the indigenous Australians:

"When they were found by European explorers they already had consciousness..."

How do you know that? Recall that 'consciousness' is not easily defined (as discussed at length by Jaynes), and is not what we normally think of it as being. So if you use Jaynes's own (admittedly idiosyncratic) definition of 'consciousness', I think it is quite possible that your assertion is not true.

AsterixZeeGerman on June 03, 2013:

It's a very interesting theory but:

1. If you study for instance the Indigenous Australians, they migrated from Africa to Asia around 70,000 years ago and arrived in Australia around 50,000 years ago. When they were found by european explorers they already had consciousness, and also heard voices and had visions from time to time. So the assumption that human consciousness is about 3000 years old is disproved by this fact, and also, this shows that the self-conscious mind coexists with visions of "gods" in primitive people. We don't know yet if it's possible pinpoint when the dawn of consciousness occurred, but it coexisted with the "concrete gods" for a long time.

2. Although the human race is constantly evolving, 40 something generations is not a lot of time to evolve (compare for instance to ecoli bacteria, with a life cycle of 20 minutes, that is 72 generations a day), it's not enough for a part of the brain to become a vestige. The difference is cultural, because we "train" our minds from an early age on. Otherwise, we would perhaps also have visions and hear voices. It also happens sometimes with normal people in solitude and dark places, when one doesn't have the conscious mind occupied. A young child doesn't distinguish fact from fiction. Without being trained to use rational thought, we would remain "children".

3. The existence of an unconscious psyche has long been proven by psychology, and the empirical material describes it as similar to "mythology". The Gods and Religions are therefore seen as manifestations of a psychological function. This view coincides with the one expressed in this book, with the difference that in psychology it is seen as a regulating function of the psyche.

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on January 07, 2011:

Yes randslam, it kind of makes you wonder how many people are truly conscious, even now. Thank you for reading and commenting.

Rand Zacharias from Vernon, British Columbia on January 02, 2011:

The bicameral theory would explain a great deal in the "voices of the god."

I think the point of "breaking down" at different eras for different cultures is also quite substantial, although, one could argue if that breaking down has occurred across cultures or only for those who are creating advanced poems, inventions, theories, etc.

A wonderfully interesting topic, Joyus and I thank you for the hub.

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on January 02, 2011:

Indeed mrpopo--it explains a lot doesn't it?

mrpopo from Canada on January 02, 2011:

I wonder how many people are susceptible to the vestiges of the bicameral mind?

My guess is quite a few, based on how easily we can be manipulated by authority in the forms of religion, media inputs like television and even societal pressures like Facebook. We don't ask why, we just unconsciously participate, for better or worse.

A very interesting psychological analysis JC! I wish we were taught more of this sort of thinking during my psych classes.

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on November 17, 2010:

I think that it is as you suggest: the bicameral mind broke down at different times in different peoples, depending on how isolated they were and when they came into contact with conscious humans (e.g. Europeans).

Robert P from Canada on November 17, 2010:

Thank you for making me aware of this theory. I had not heard of this theory before.

I have a question however: it would seem to me that generally speaking all humans throughout the world are "modern" in their thinking. In other words, they see the world in a post-Illiad way, to borrow from the article.

How does the theory account for the change taking place throughout the human population, despite the fact that many groups were isolated culturally and genetically from each other until recently. Or would the theory hold that certain groups, such as Australian aborigines or North American Indians would have reached this more modern way of seeing interpreting the world only after contact with Europeans.

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on November 07, 2010:

I think you are right Sa'ge, and I suspect Dr. Jaynes would agree. By "spatializing" time, subjective consciousness spreads the mind out between past, present and future. And by focusing inwardly on one thing--the self (as represented by the analog "I") it blocks our connection with the whole...

Sa`ge from Barefoot Island on November 07, 2010:

I got caught in memory lol, what I was going to say and forgot, for the memory, is that being in the NOW, opens other doors of the mind that are normally closed due to the mind being spread out between past present and future, all usually at the same time. Or so focused on one thing thank the whole is blocked. Just my humble opinion. :D hugs :D

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on November 06, 2010:

?? wu wei Sa'ge, what a trip!

Sa`ge from Barefoot Island on November 06, 2010:

You got it :D This has happened to me once in this life time. I am not talking about some trance state of Nirvana. my mind just went dumping itself into the all encompassing now and my body, not having any training in how to act when the mind decides to be present NOW wen to sleep. I don't mean sleep sleep, it just did not know what or how to function and stopped. It was a good think I was with a good friend who know what was happening to me. He is a native who was preparing for his fourth and final sun dance. He cared for me during this 12 hour adventure i was having. I learned things that were unbelievable. things that intellectuals of this day would pooh as psychotic ramblings. All I did was lay there as he cared for me. he kept me warm and spoon fed me water with a teaspoon and be observant of every single thing around me from things in nature all the living things including the dirt and rocks and this was the fun part, the thought of everyone there. Man is so hypocritical. hardly ever speaks what he is truly thinking. only says what will make then look good to the other. was such an interesting observation I had.

oh me sorry for rambling on like this.

thank you for this super hub again aloha :D hugs :D

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on November 06, 2010:

You are right Sa'ge, the meaning of consciousness is very elusive. I think the reason is that we are trapped within it (consciousness that is). And being there takes us out of the here and now. If and when we do truly experience the moment then at that moment we are no longer subjectively conscious.

Sa`ge from Barefoot Island on November 06, 2010:

The meaning of consciousness I think is what eludes man to begin with. When are we conscious? If conciseness demand one be in the NOW (the moment). then pray tell how many people are ever conscious? People are usually in the past or future as far as their mind goes. Can man perform perfectly in the Now?

Can we even train our minds to do so, for even that training itself would remove us from that present state of now. Then again, can one ask, is it consciousness or is it time, that is the elusive factor here, or are we missing the boat totally and not see there may be a missing factor here?

You can ignore all the above hehe, just my mind going crazy again. Super hub, I loved it, you made me dance. :D hugs :D aloha :D

Baileybear on November 03, 2010:

Nup, don't understand what I am saying. It's just uttering babble, like babies do (copied off other people from my church times). I just tried it out for interest to see if I could still do it - no problem at all. Of course, if one allows themselves to slip into a "right brain" relaxed state, they might feel "spiritual" I suppose, just like when one is engrossed in an artform. Nothing supernatural about it either.

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on November 03, 2010:

Interesting! When you do that do you remain consciously aware, or do you lose track of time? And do you understand what your are saying?

Baileybear on November 02, 2010:

I can actually still do the "speaking in tongues". I recall reading about some study done that shows that people use syllables from their mother tongue

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on November 02, 2010:

Thanks Baileybear. The brain is indeed fascinating, and like everything else, is still evolving. I think there is probably a huge range of heritable variation in the neurobiology and psychology of the human population, providing raw material for natural selection (the power of which may however be diminished in our homogenized technological civilization).

The trance-like state to which you refer reminds me of the "speaking in tongues" that goes on in some of the Pentecostal churches, which I suspect may be a resuscitation of the bicameral mind!

Baileybear on November 02, 2010:

very interesting hub. I am ex-christian, and I was rather delusional when I experienced mental illness (and thought that maybe I was possessed by the demons that the christians said I was!). Of course, I know now that I was unwell. The brain is a fascinating thing - my son and I get "drugged" by food chemicals, even from fruit - affects our cognition, awareness, mood etc. I am an unusual combination of being both analytical and creative. I like both science and improvising with music (with the latter, I can become quite trance-like). I believe christians go into this trance-like state with music etc (especially the very emotional ones) - and then think they are "full of the holy spirit etc"

Joyus Crynoid (author) from Eden on November 01, 2010:

Pc--yes, I think that contemporary humans express vestigial bicamerality to varying degrees, ranging from hardly at all to the extreme of schizophrenia. I suspect that many cult leaders (at least the ones who are sincere) are thus motivated. I find that to be a very helpful insight--yet another reason not to try to argue with zealots, because they probably have a somewhat bicameral mentality and thus lack the ability (never mind the will) to change. It's best to "forgive them, for they know not what they do..."

Amorea--thanks for the positive feedback. You make an interesting point about the possible resurgance of bicameral mentality in the modern world, enabled by the mind-numbing effects of TV and other mass media! In my opinion Jaynes's theory gets a lot of support from the fact that so many people respond like puppets to the words of perceived authority.

amorea13 on November 01, 2010:

Joyus - what a great article brilliantly written and very clearly explained.

I first read Jaynes' work back in the early 80's, curiously enough through the prompting of a 'business-opportunity' from Nevada called, grandly, Neo-Tech (a new way of business-thinking!). I then got more involved with what Jaynes wrote than I did with what the business told me!

In so many ways I lean to what Jaynes has stated and I notice that, now we have huge, unimaginably vast numbers of humans living and thinking on our planet, it may be that in many ways, through media input-'control' and perhaps even 'authority' auto-suggestion, we, as an overall related culture, are being encouraged to 'return' to the hallucinatory experience of the Bi-Cameral Mind!!

Great hub Joyus - a major piece of informative writing. Thank you and voted up - (if that's not too 'bi-cameral' an act!).

Tony Lawrence from SE MA on November 01, 2010:

I remember reading Origin for the first time. I was 28; my mother gave it to me as a birthday present.

I remember thinking "Ahh - this explains why music and poetry are so unimportant to me!". I never understood why my mother and many other people became so entranced (literally, I now assumed) by those activities. My inner voices were more solidly blocked!

I also remember thinking that the religious folk weren't going to like this and of course they don't.

I do believe that the deeply religious still hear something. Not voices, but they feel that something is "there" and they (stupidly) attribute it to an external being. I believe that is why it is impossible to disabuse them of their religion: they "feel" their god-thing watching them.

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