Fly in the Brain:

I would like to share an original zen-ish thought experiment: something that spawned in my mind over time from contemplating thoughts surrounding identity, consciousness, and determinism. I’m not quite sure how to introduce it, but in case it strikes confusion via paradox, as any proper koan-like ought, then at least I’ll be happy that you got it you didn’t get it (and how)! Maybe it will be easier to distill in future retellings, but as for now, I write as follows:

First, let’s imagine an ordinary housefly buzzing around a room. Like any, its surface-sticking is predictable, where aviation patterns are less so. Whether opting for the surface of an armchair, fridge, wall, ceiling, or an unwashed dish, we can safely expect it to favor a landing zone and return there frequently. While airborne, however, the fly takes on more erratic maneuvers, disorienting the tracking eye. On its elliptical route, we never know, it might return to the original spot, or break away and attach to a buttery sauce pan instead. That’s the housefly’s dance; it does action and nonaction to the most distracting degree.

Now here’s the thought experiment:

Suppose a fly of similar character lives in the brain of the reader. Like the housefly, its landing pattern is predictable, and its airborne path is uncertain. However, this cerebral fly differs in that it 1. exists in the reader’s brain and 2. may move about at quantum speeds. Incidentally, and unbeknownst to the reader, this fly is responsible for all thoughts and emotions associated with the brain’s activity. In other words, depending on the region of the brain it touches on, where it sticks determines both mental and sentimental content. Like bits of leftover dinner or streaks of spilled maple syrup, this fly is attracted to certain chemicals secreted by sections of the brain. As a result, if the fly decides it might like to land on the hippocampus, for instance, one would experience a funny memory for a moment, until it takes off, suspended in some buzzery-dizzery, only for it to land again afterward on the pre-frontal cortex, prompting a flux of hard cognition about how vampires choose to make their dentist appointments. Welcome to the fly of consciousness.

What can we say about the fly of consciousness, or what does it say potentially about us? There’s no foregone conclusion here, but let’s embrace the idea and ramble for a minute. What if all that I think and feel, including the actions/reactions based on those activities, is at the whim of a quantum brain fly? At first glance, it would help explain a lot about uncontrollable aspects of one’s self. It’s not like a despotic fly or anything, no authority nor scheme of its own–nothing but random fly-like instincts. But at the same time, where it lands isn’t up to me, and isn’t that cause for concern? Well, maybe it is consoling actually to know that my habitual cravings for Tostitos and laze is just the fly touching down proboscis, scrunching a few hormones off a region of my hypothalamus.

Ok, but what if I’m the fly? If I’m just the effect of where the fly lands, then can’t I claim to be the source of all that, i.e. the fly is what I am? What about the brain of the fly in my brain? And what if it has a fly in its brain??

There’s that, and there’s arguments embedded about consciousness too. How do I even know or know of a fly in my brain? Or is it the fly just typing this out, having landed by instinct upon a particular prefrontal lobe responsible for producing thoughts of this sort? If the fly dies, do I? We may never know…indeed these are distracting thoughts.

That said, maybe it’s not so much of a crisis (yeah, you can cancel your lobotomy appointment). But it is paradoxical, hence confusing, hence zen-ish, even if not punchy enough to be deemed a koan. Overall, it can be seen as a playful concept with respect to humanity’s growing understanding of neuroscience and grander inquiry into sentience. Even in the absence of evidence of any brain fly, we nevertheless possess brains presenting us with habits, sensations, thoughts, and emotions that continue to riddle us from a decentralized source. In the long run, it’s understandable that because we have no control over these aspects of the human condition, we live pondering many of the abiding existential questions. Meanwhile, on these finishing lines, it seems the fly is lifting off to roam in orbits, leaving a fizzing sense of puzzlement and new thought for food. And to the fly, I say, “stay buzzy.”