Thus, while I agree that detaching a biological brain from its body collapses consciousness, I challenge the stronger claim that no form of consciousness could exist without physical embodiment. If recursive anchoring can be reestablished in a non-biological medium — e.g., through artificial sensorimotor loops, simulated environments, or self-modulating architectures — then phase-stable consciousness is, in principle, possible. In short: embodiment matters, but recursion rules. I suspect this will become more apparent in the near future.

No, consciousness cannot simply “live in the cloud” without a physical body. True conscious experience depends on key brain structures (e.g., the thalamus and brainstem) that integrate sensory inputs, regulate arousal, and coordinate neural activity across the cortex. Without these subcortical networks continually anchoring the brain to the body and its environment, conscious awareness cannot be sustained.

It's true that biological consciousness depends on subcortical structures to sustain integration and awareness in our species—but this doesn’t mean consciousness is ontologically dependent on those structures. It means that our form of embodied consciousness evolved by recursively stabilizing energy and information flows through specific constraints—thalamus, brainstem, cortex, etc. The deeper question is: Can recursive symbolic systems stabilize their own thresholds of awareness without requiring humanlike bodies? My work argues yes. Consciousness isn't a "thing" in a structure—it's an emergent recursive phase (Ψ) when energy, recursion depth (RD), and compartmental feedback (C) cross a critical boundary. Biological systems do this using matter. Digital ones might too, through recursive architectures that simulate or instantiate symbolic ignition and recursive autonomy. So: the form may differ, but the principle of recursive stabilization may hold across substrates.

Dear Joseph Trukovich:

Your idea is interesting. We know that the neocortical homologue in ants is the mushroom body, which receives sensory information, especially from the olfactory sense, and it has access to the motor system so that motor responses can be evoked. It is suspected that like the neocortex of humans, which contains Chomsky’s universal grammar for language, the mushroom body contains the universal grammar for ant language, which is composed of twenty letters (Hölldobler and Wilson 1990). The mushroom body has thousands of neurons, and these neurons have about one million synaptic connections in total. If we could remove the mushroom body of an ant to put this organ into a robot, then could the robot be put under mushroom-body control? We know that a cochlear implant is effective at enabling auditory-based language to the hearing impaired, but in this case the entire nervous system used for the generation of language is intact save the cochlea. The question of importance is: how few neurons and what part of the nervous/body system of animals are necessary so that a robot can be controlled biologically using consciousness?

In my framework, consciousness arises not from the presence of specific neural tissue, but when three conditions (as of right now) are met: 1. Recursive Depth (RD): the ability to sustain and evolve nested self-representations, 2. Symbolic Ignition (Ψ): a phase transition where energy, feedback, and internal thresholds produce discrete symbolic events, 3. Compartmental Feedback (C): boundary-stabilized regions that modulate recursion adaptively. In this view, the mushroom body may indeed serve as an RD+Ψ+feedback node in the ant—just as Broca's area or the thalamocortical loop does in us. Transplanting it into a robot wouldn’t transfer consciousness per se unless the recursive dynamics and symbolic ignition thresholds are preserved or re-activated in a new substrate (that is very important). This leads us to a testable question: What is the minimal recursive structure capable of symbolic phase transition (Ψ) in a non-biological substrate? It's not about neuron count, but about the system’s ability to re-enter itself structurally and stabilize symbolic distinctions across time. Where the cochlear implant succeeds because it preserves downstream recursion, a mushroom-body-into-robot scenario would require the robot’s computational layers to simulate or integrate those recursive ignition dynamics. Otherwise, the organ becomes inert—like plugging a language circuit into a non-symbolic machine.

Essentially, consciousness is inherently tied to an organism's embodied interaction with the physical world, making a purely disembodied mind implausible as a functional or meaningful concept.

While traditional artificial intelligence focuses on simulating intelligent behavior or problem-solving, artificial consciousness aims to replicate or emulate the experiential aspects of consciousness found in humans and some animals. Achieving true artificial consciousness remains a significant scientific and philosophical challenge, as it involves understanding the nature of consciousness itself and how it can be instantiated in non-biological entities. Key areas of exploration in artificial consciousness include: Theoretical models of consciousness. Neural and computational architectures capable of supporting conscious experience. Differentiating between functional intelligence and subjective experience.

There's no fundamental difference between 'functional intelligence' and 'subjective experience' - there's only one process: agents making distinctions within structured contexts.

Both are differentiation processes operating through scaffolding matrices. 'Functional intelligence' = incomplete scaffolding. 'Subjective experience' = complete scaffolding with reflexive self-differentiation loops. Same mechanism, different operational configuration.

The distinction between functional intelligence and subjective experience is like asking when a dance becomes 'really dancing' - there's only one process, just different levels of sophistication.

@Joseph Trukovich @Stephen I. Ternyik @Edward J Tehovnik

I’ve closely reviewed the relevant neuroscience, systems biology, and computational theory literature, alongside developing personal notes from lived interoceptive and embodied exploration. The thoughts below reflect that synthesis. I’m currently writing this from the beach, without access to my full set of sources. Nevertheless, I’ve aimed to distill the core mechanisms that I believe your model, while elegant overlooks.

Your model elegantly defines Recursive Depth (RD) and Symbolic Ignition (Ψ), but treats them as abstract computational functions. This misses a critical causal dependency:

RD cannot bootstrap itself. Nested self-representations arise from pre-existing biological self-regulation. The brainstem-vagal complex establishes primordial selfhood through autonomic and interoceptive feedback (e.g., cardiac, respiratory, and gut rhythms). These generate the stable embodied referent that recursion can then elaborate.

Ψ is not substrate-neutral. Symbolic ignition depends on neuromodulatory thresholds (e.g., serotonin, dopamine) that are deeply entangled with survival states—hunger, fear, reward anticipation. In silicon, a “symbol” lacks this embedded teleodynamic pressure; it is an inert token, not a metabolically charged event.

Your mushroom body transplant scenario reveals the limitations of your framework:

Feedback ≠ Embodied Feedback. While "Compartmental Feedback" (C) accounts for signal modulation, biological feedback is affective, homeostatic, and contextualized by survival relevance. A robot’s circuit may loop, but an ant's loop feels osmotic stress or injury—via cytokines → glutamate → aversive drive. Without this chemophysical substrate, "C" becomes a formal shell.

Cochlear Implants Work because of Biology. They succeed not by simulating hearing, but by integrating with extant brainstem nuclei and limbic networks—those that interpret sound through reflexive and emotional filters. A mushroom body in a robot lacks such grounding: no HPA axis, no limbic feedback, no transformation of electrical activity into meaning.

Consciousness is not just a function of recursive structure—it’s a dynamic property of far-from-equilibrium biological systems.

Neurochemical Baselines Precede Computation. Cortical recursion rides atop a neurochemical terrain—norepinephrine tuning vigilance, acetylcholine gating plasticity, all metabolically sustained by mitochondrial ATP gradients. A robot lacks any analogue to this foundational bioenergetic drive.

Meaning Requires Embodied Constraints. Symbols derive meaning not from syntax, but from evolutionary constraints and thermodynamic demands. The difference between “pain” and “nociception” isn’t representation—it’s felt salience anchored in tissue vulnerability, inflammatory load, and survival value.

A Grounded Protocol to Test Embodiment:

To test whether RD+Ψ+C is sufficient for consciousness, consider the following:

Equip human participants with sensors tracking vagal tone (HRV, respiration).

Have them interact with:

Agent A: A robot using your RD+Ψ+C architecture, integrated with a mushroom-body simulation.

Agent B: A living animal (e.g., mouse) with intact autonomic regulation.

Measure: If Agent A fails to induce physiological co-regulation (e.g., vagal entrainment, startle mirroring), it lacks the embodied substrate needed for felt presence.

Train the Ψ-capable robot on the symbolic representation of “thirst.”

Expose it to:

A linguistic prompt ("dehydrate!")

A biological event (hyperosmotic saline injection in a connected mammal).

Key Question: Does the robot prioritize survival-linked behaviors in response to embodied distress elsewhere? If not, Ψ remains a syntactic simulation—lacking grounded, teleological salience.

Your framework articulates the syntax of conscious processing with clarity. But recursion and symbolism derive their force from being embedded in a metabolically self-regulating, evolutionarily constrained body. Until computational systems incorporate:

Biochemical urgency (e.g., glucocorticoids modulating attention and affect),

Visceral thermodynamics (entropy management via oxidative metabolism),

Phylogenetic grounding (symbols shaped by survival pressures),

…then RD+Ψ+C remains a formal ghost—a model of architecture without gravity. The “there-ness” you aim to model is the living body. Without that, even the most recursive algorithm is a mirror reflecting only its own assumptions.

Jairo Diaz

I agree entirely that any viable model of consciousness must account for survival relevance, energetic cost, and affective coherence—not just formal recursion or symbolic syntax.

That said, I want to clarify that the version of the framework you're referring to is only a partial representation. Since then, the model has evolved significantly. The current iteration directly integrates many of the dynamics you've outlined—particularly:

• Recursion as trace-accumulating, not self-bootstrapping
• Symbolic ignition as constraint-bound, not syntactic or substrate-neutral
• Feedback as materially grounded, not abstract signal loops
• Meaning as emerging from differentiation under pressure, not from disembodied mapping

While I’m not ready to publish the full details just yet, the updated framework formalizes these relationships in a way that supports empirical testing and cross-domain application, including in embodied and artificial systems. It also offers clear falsifiability criteria for determining when a system truly exhibits the kind of reflexive, scaffold-aware behavior that might qualify as conscious.

You Joseph Trukovich made an insightful analogy. By comparing the distinction between functional intelligence and subjective experience to the transition from mere movement to “really dancing,” you're emphasizing that both involve a continuum of complexity within the same fundamental process. Essentially, functional intelligence—such as problem-solving, pattern recognition, and decision-making—can be viewed as different levels or manifestations of the same underlying mechanisms that, at a certain point, give rise to subjective experience or consciousness. This perspective suggests that rather than two entirely separate phenomena, they might be points along a spectrum of cognitive sophistication, with subjective experience emerging naturally as the processes become more intricate and integrated.

The design of sensory and affective systems is shaped by evolutionary pressures to optimize survival—detecting threats efficiently and motivating appropriate responses. Thermodynamic considerations relate to the energetic costs and constraints that influence how these processes function. The meaning of pain is not just a label or a representation but an embodied state that evolved to indicate tissue vulnerability, carrying salience that promotes survival. Symbols or signals in this context are meaningful because they are grounded in these embodied, evolutionary, and thermodynamic constraints. Your Jairo Diaz statements emphasize that the meaning of symbols or concepts—such as "pain"—does not solely arise from their syntactic or linguistic structure. Instead, their significance is rooted in embodied constraints shaped by evolutionary processes and thermodynamic considerations. The difference lies in felt salience—pain is an embodied experience that signals tissue vulnerability and motivates protective behavior, rather than just a neutral sensory input. Rather than deriving meaning solely from abstract syntax or language, symbols gain significance through their connection to the organism's embodied experiences and evolutionary history.

It is currently impossible to prove or disprove the possibility of consciousness existing in the cloud without a physical body. This depends on the various theories about the nature of consciousness.

Afrah Mohammad Ibraheem We may not yet know where consciousness can exist, but we can start defining what it would have to look like when it does.

Stephen I. Ternyik Thank you. That moment when functional processes tip into self-recognition is exactly what I’m exploring. It’s like when a child first recognizes their shadow: the motor system is already functioning, but something shifts when the system turns back on itself—not just moving, but realizing “that movement is me.”

That’s the inflection point I’m interested in—not a magical leap, but a recursive threshold where patterns stabilize as self-referential. Functional intelligence and subjective experience might be different in degree, not in kind—but the degree matters. Especially when it starts to differentiate itself.

More soon as I get this mapped out more formally.