So it is, not just with the human world, but with
everything with which we come into contact. A mountain that is a
landmark to a navigator, a source of wealth to a prospector, a
many-textured form to a painter, or to another the dwelling place of the
gods, is changed by the attention given to it. There is no “real”
mountain that can be distinguished from these, no one way of thinking
that reveals the true mountain.
Science, however, purports to be uncovering such a reality. Its apparently value-free descriptions are assumed to deliver the
truth about the object, onto which our feelings and desires are later
painted. Yet this highly objective stance, this “view from nowhere,” to
use the American philosopher Thomas Nagel’s phrase, is itself
value-laden. It is just one particular way of looking at things, a way
that privileges detachment, a lack of commitment of the viewer to the
object viewed. For some purposes this can be undeniably useful. But its
use in such causes does not make it truer or more real, closer to the
nature of things.
Attention also changes who we are, we who are doing the
attending. Our knowledge of neurobiology and neuropsychology shows that
by attending to someone else performing an action, and even by thinking
about them doing so—even, in fact, by thinking about certain sorts of
people at all—we become objectively, measurably, more like them,
in how we behave, think, and feel. Through the direction and nature of
our attention, we prove ourselves to be partners in creation, both of
the world and of ourselves. In keeping with this, attention is
inescapably bound up with value—unlike what we conceive of as “cognitive
functions,” which are neutral in this respect. Values enter through the way in which
those functions are exercised: they can be used in different ways for
different purposes to different ends. Attention, however, intrinsically
is a way in which, not a thing: it is intrinsically a
relationship, not a brute fact. It is a “howness,” a something between,
an aspect of consciousness itself, not a “whatness,” a thing in itself,
an object of consciousness. It brings into being a world and, with it,
depending on its nature, a set of values.
From: Iain McGilchrist. "The Master and His Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World." Yale University Press, 2009. Reprinted in Tricycle Spring 2017.
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