States of Consciousness by Charles T. Tart

An Authors Guild Ba c k in p r i n t.
c o m Edition
"A beautiful piece of work on the theory of altered states of consciousness."

—Stanislav Grof, M.D. author of Realms of the Human Unconsciousness
States of
Consciousness
C H A R L E S T. T A R T . PHD
States of
Consciousness
States of
Consciousness
Charles T. Tart
AN AUTHORS GUILD BACKINPRINT.COM EDITION

States of Consciousness
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Contents
Introduction vii
Section I: States
1. T h e Systems Approach to States of Consciousness 3
2. T h e Components of Consciousness: Awareness, Energy,
Structures 10
3. Conservative and Radical Views of the Mind 27
4. T h e Nature of Ordinary Consciousness 33
5. Discrete States of Consciousness 51
6. Stabilization of a State of Consciousness 63
7. Induction of Altered States: Going to Sleep, Hypnosis,
Meditation 70
8. Subsystems 88
9. Individual Differences 140
10. Using Drugs to Induce Altered States 146
11. Observation of Internal States 156
12. Identity States 163
13. Strategies in Using the Systems Approach 171
14. T h e Depth Dimension of a State of Consciousness 182
15. State-Specific Communication 201
16. State-Specific Sciences 206
17. Higher States of Consciousness 229
Section II: Speculation
18. As Above, So Below: Five Basic Principles Underlying Physics
and Psychology 243
19. Ordinary Consciousness as a State of Illusion 258
20. Ways Out of Illusion 272
Bibliography 287
Index 297
Introduction
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This is a transitional book.

It is transitional, first, because our society is in the midst of
many vital transitions. As this book shows, our ordinary or "nor-
mal" state of consciousness is a tool, a structure, a coping mecha-
nism for dealing with a certain agreed-upon social reality—a
consensus reality. As long as that consensus reality and the values
and experiences behind it remain reasonably stable, we have a
fairly good idea of what "normal" consciousness is for an indi-
vidual and what "pathological" deviations from that norm are.
Today, as many of the religious, moral, and emotional underpin-
nings of our civilization lose their guiding value for our most
influential people, the concepts of normal and pathological begin
to lose their meanings.
Because we have begun in recent years to question the founda-
tions of our consensus reality and the value of our normal state of
consciousness, some of us have tried to alter consciousness by
experimenting with drugs, meditation, new kinds of psychother-
apies, new religious systems. My own reading of history suggests
that some of the experiences people have had in altered states of
consciousness, generally called mystical experiences, have formed
the underpinnings of all great religious systems and of the stable
societies and consensus realities that were formed from them.
Now we not only question our inherited social systems, we go
directly to the sources, to altered states of consciousness, in our
viii Introduction
search for new values and realities. T h i s is a very exciting, very
dangerous, and very hopeful undertaking. W e are in a social
transition, and no one of us knows precisely where it is going. Yet
we have, perhaps, a chance to understand o u r own transition and
possibly to guide it—things no society in the past has been able
to do.
T h i s opportunity is granted us by science, particularly the
young science of psychology. Instead of being blindly converted
to ideologies created by the powerful experiences encountered in
altered states of consciousness, or avoiding them because of fear,
we may be able, through science, to gain a broader understand-
ing of o u r own minds and of these forces and to exert some
intelligent 1 guidance.
T h i s book is transitional in a second way because psychology
itself is entering a state of rapid transition. Once defined as the
study of the mind, psychology made little headway as a science; it
lacked the elegance, precision of understanding, and power of
doing of the physical sciences. So it was redefined by many of its
practitioners as the study of behavior. Overt behavior is easier to
study than experience, and the examination of overt behavior
has given us many useful tools for predicting and changing
behavior.
Now I see psychology once again becoming a science of or the
study of the mind. T h i s trend seems undesirable to many of my
older colleagues, b u t is welcomed by many younger psychologists
and by most current students of psychology. W e cannot
shun the study of the nature of the h u m a n m i n d simply because
it is difficult, and confine ourselves to the easier analysis of overt
behavior. W e are now developing many tools for more precise
study of the mind.
Yet this second transition is unfinished. At the moment I am
optimistic that a science of consciousness and states of conscious-
11 use the word intelligent in a very broad sense and do not want to equate
it with the strictly rational. Rationality is not some absolute, universally valid
way of thinking, as we generally believe. Rational means "according to the
rules"; but where do the rules come from? We now understand that there
are many logics, many ways of being rational. Each logic has different assump-
tions behind its rules, and assumptions are arbitrary. You can assume what-
ever you wish. What kind of logic will enable you to survive in your particular
society is a different matter: you must share most of the assumptions common
in your society to fit in. It used to be "obvious," for example, that the world
was flat, and people who disagreed with this could get in trouble.
Introduction ix
ness will be developed within this decade. But I cannot be
certain that this transition in contemporary psychology will defi-
nitely lead to a science of consciousness. T h e interest among
younger psychologists and students is not simply a function of
some linear progress in the psychological knowledge available to
us; it is also a reflection of the transition in o u r society that has
prompted o u r search for values. If there is a marked change in
society, such as an authoritarian, repressive shift to buy security
rather than to endure the stress of transition, the new science of
consciousness may be aborted.
T h i s book presents a new way of viewing states of conscious-
ness—a systems approach. It is a way of looking at what people
tell us about and how they behave in various altered states of
consciousness that I have been slowly developing in a decade of
research. I have worked out the major dimensions of this way
of understanding to a point of great usefulness to myself, and I
believe the method can be useful to others, as well. It is now clear
to me that the need is great for some kind of paradigm to make
sense of the vast mass of chaotic data in this field, and I offer this
systems approach to others even though this approach is still in
transition. It will take me another decade to think out all the
ramifications of this approach, to begin the broad-scale experi-
mental tests of its usefulness, to adequately fit all the extant and
evolving literature into it. But I do not think we have time for
such slow and orderly work if, given the first two transitions, we
are to understand enough scientifically about states of conscious-
ness to have some influence o n the powerful transitions occurring
in o u r society. T h u s I present this systems approach now, even
though it is unfinished, in the hope that it may lead us toward
the understanding we need.
T h i s book is transitional in still another sense; it represents a
variety of personal transitions for me. One of these transitions is
a professional one—from experimentalist to theoretician. I am
not entirely comfortable with this change. My style has been to
conduct small-scale experiments in various areas of the psychol-
ogy of consciousness where I can stay personally involved with
the factual data and not lose track of them in the course of
pursuing intriguing abstractions. Yet the systems approach pre-
sented here has evolved in the course of that experimentation,
and it seems so promising that I have chosen to deemphasize my
immediate involvement in experimentation to look at the larger
X Introduction
picture of the n a t u r e of states of consciousness. A forthcoming
book, Studies of States of Consciousness [132], will collect some
of that research for convenient reference. References to all of my
research can be found in the Bibliography [61-139].
Another personal transition is that I have lately given more
attention to direct experience of some of the phenomena associ-
ated with altered states of consciousness. W h i l e much of what I
write about here is intellectual or theoretical knowledge based
on reports from others and o n the experimental literature, some
of it comes directly from my own experience—enough so that the
systems approach I describe clearly makes basic experiential sense
to me, even though many of its ramifications are beyond the
scope of my personal experience.
My personal experience of some of the phenomena associated
with altered states of consciousness may be both advantageous
and disadvantageous. In the early days of research with LSD
(lysergic acid diethylamide), scientists often downgraded the
work of a researcher who had not taken LSD himself on grounds
that he did not really understand the phenomena he was re-
searching. O n the other hand, if he had taken LSD himself, his
research was suspect o n grounds that his judgment probably had
been warped by his personal involvement. H e was damned if he
did and damned if he didn't. So I have tried to steer a middle
course—not presenting a personal theory, b u t also not presenting
ideas that have no experiential basis at all for me. W h e t h e r this
is an advantage or disadvantage must be judged by the long-term
usefulness of these ideas.
T h i s book is addressed to everyone who is interested in states
of consciousness, whether that interest is personal, professional,
or both. Each of us lives in his ordinary state of consciousness,
each of us experiences at least one altered state of consciousness
(dreaming), and few of us are i m m u n e to the currents of social
change that make us ask questions about the n a t u r e of our
mental life. Understanding consciousness is not the exclusive task
or desire of scientists or therapists. Because this is a subject of
interest to all of us, I have tried to keep my writing straightfor-
ward and clear and to resist the temptation to talk in scientific
jargon. I introduce only a few technical terms, usually where the
common words we might use have acquired such a wide range of
meaning that they are no longer clear.
T h i s book is also addressed to practitioners and researchers
Introduction xi
who will see where this way of looking at consciousness is helpful
and will refine and expand it, and who will also see where this
way of looking at things is not helpful and does not fit their
experience and so will alter it. I believe what is presented here
will be useful to many of us now, but I hope that in a decade the
progress made by others in the refinement and application of this
approach will allow a far more definitive book to be written.
T h e book is organized into two sections. T h e first section,
"States," describes my systems approach to states of consciousness,
discusses some of its implications, and gives an overview of what
we know about states of consciousness today. T h e second section,
"Speculations," presents ideas that, while consistent with the
systems approach, are not a necessary part of it and are more
unorthodox.
My own thinking in evolving this systems approach has de-
pended heavily o n the contributions of many others. T o name
only the ones most prominent in my mind, I am indebted to
Roberto Assagioli, J o h n Bennett, Carlos Castaneda (and his
teacher, Don J u a n ) , A r t h u r Deikman, Sigmund Freud, David
Galin, George Gurdjieff, A r t h u r Hastings, Ernest Hilgard, Carl
Jung, T h o m a s Kuhn, J o h n Lilly, Abraham Maslow, Harold Mc-
Curdy, Gardner Murphy, Claudio Naranjo, Maurice Nicoll,
Robert Ornstein, Peter Ouspensky, Idries Shah, Ronald Shor,
T a r t h a n g T u l k u , Andrew Weil, and my wife, Judy. I also wish
to express my particular thanks to Helen J o a n Crawford, Lois
Dick, and Irene Segrest, who have done so much to aid me in
my research.
Section I: States
I .
The Systems Approach to

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There is a great elegance in starting out from simple ideas, slowly

building them u p into connected patterns, and having a com-
plex, interlocking theoretical structure emerge at the end. Fol-
lowing the weaving of such a pattern, step by step, can be highly
stimulating. Unfortunately, it is easy to get bogged down in the
details, especially when the pattern has gaps to be filled in, and
to lose track of what the steps are all about and what they are
leading toward. This chapter gives a brief overview of my systems
approach to states of consciousness—a brief sketch map of the
whole territory to provide a general orientation before we look at
detail maps. I do not define terms much here or give detailed
examples, as these are supplied in later chapters.
Our ordinary state of consciousness is not something natural or
given, but a highly complex construction, a specialized tool for
coping with our environment and the people in it, a tool that is
useful for doing some things but not very useful, and even
dangerous, for doing other things. As we look at consciousness
closely, we see that it can be analyzed into many parts. Yet these
parts function together in .a pattern: they form a system. While
the components of consciousness can be studied in isolation, they
exist as parts of a complex system, consciousness, and can be fully
understood only when we see this function in the overall system.
Similarly, understanding the complexity of consciousness re-
quires seeing it as a system and understanding the parts. For this
4 States of Consciousness
reason, I refer to my approach to states of consciousness as a sys-
tems approach.
T o understand the constructed system we call a state of con-
sciousness, we begin with some theoretical postulates based on
h u m a n experience. T h e first postulate is the existence of a basic
awareness. Because some volitional control of the focus of aware-
ness is possible, we generally refer to it as attention/awareness.
W e must also recognize the existence of self-awareness, the aware-
ness of being aware.
Further basic postulates deal with structures, those relatively
permanent structures/functions/subsystems of the m i n d / b r a i n
that act o n information to transform it in various ways. Arith-
metical skills, for example, constitute a (set of related) struc-
ture (s). T h e structures of particular interest to us are those that
require some a m o u n t of attention/awareness to activate them.
Attention/awareness acts as psychological energy in this sense.
Most techniques for controlling the mind are ways of deploying
attention/awareness energy and other kinds of energies so as to
activate desired structures (traits, skills, attitudes) and deacti-
vate undesired structures.
Psychological structures have individual characteristics that
limit and shape the ways in which they can interact with one
another. T h u s the possibilities of "any system built of psychologi-
cal structures are shaped and limited both by the deployment of
attention/awareness and other energies and by the characteristics
of the structures comprising the system. T h e h u m a n biocom-
puter, in other words, has a large b u t limited number of possible
modes of functioning.
Because we are creatures with a certain kind of body and
nervous system, a large n u m b e r of h u m a n potentials are in
principle available to us. But each of us is born into a particular
culture that selects and develops a small n u m b e r of these poten-
tials, rejects others, and is ignorant of many. T h e small n u m b e r
of experiential potentials selected by o u r culture, plus some
r a n d o m factors, constitute the structural elements from which
o u r ordinary state of consciousness is constructed. W e are at once
the beneficiaries and the victims of our culture's particular selec-
tion. T h e possibility of tapping and developing latent potentials,
which lie outside the cultural norm, by entering an altered state
of consciousness, by temporarily restructuring consciousness, is
the basis of the great interest in such states.
The 'Systems Approach to States of Consciousness 5
T h e terms state of consciousness and altered state of conscious-
ness have come to be used too loosely, to mean whatever is on
one's mind at the moment. T h e new term discrete state of con-
sciousness (d-SoC) is proposed for greater precision. A d-SoC is a
unique, dynamic pattern or configuration of psychological struc-
tures, an active system of psychological subsystems. Although the
component structures/subsystems show some variation within a d-
SoC, the overall pattern, the overall system properties remain
recognizably the same. If, as you sit reading, you think, "I am
dreaming," instead of "I am awake," you have changed a small
cognitive element in your consciousness b u t not affected at all
the basic pattern we call your waking state. I n spite of subsystem
variation and environmental variation, a d-SoC is stabilized by a
n u m b e r of processes so that it retains its identity and function.
By analogy, an automobile remains an automobile whether on a
road or in a garage (environment change), whether you change
the b r a n d of spark plugs or the color of the seat covers (internal
variation).
Examples of d-SoCs are the ordinary waking state, nondream-
ing sleep, dreaming sleep, hypnosis, alcohol intoxication, mari-
j u a n a intoxication, and meditative states.
A discrete altered state of consciousness (d-ASC) refers to a d-
SoC that is different from some baseline state of consciousness (b-
SoC). Usually the ordinary state is taken as the baseline state. A
d-ASC is a new system with u n i q u e properties of its own, a
restructuring of consciousness. Altered is intended as a purely
descriptive term, carrying n o values.
A d-SoC is stabilized by four kinds of processes: (1) loading
stabilization—keeping attention/awareness and other psycho-
logical energies deployed in habitual, desired structures by load-
ing the person's system heavily with appropriate tasks; (2)
negative feedback stabilization—correcting the functioning of
erring structures/subsystems when they deviate too far from the
normal range that ensures stability; (3) positive feedback stabi-
lization—strengthening activity a n d / o r providing rewarding
experiences when structures/subsystems are functioning within
desired limits; and (4) limiting stabilization—restricting the
range of functioning of structures/subsystems whose intense
operation would destabilize the system.
In terms of current psychological knowledge, ten major subsys-
tems (collections of related structures) that show important
variations over known d-ASCs need to be distinguished: (1)
Exteroception—sensing the external environment; (2) Intero-
ception—sensing what the body is feeling and doing; (3) Input-
Processing— automated selecting and abstracting of sensory input
so we perceive only what is " i m p o r t a n t " by personal and cultural
(consensus reality) standards; (4) Memory; (5) Subconscious—
the classical Freudian unconscious plus many other psychological
processes that go on outside our ordinary d-SoC, b u t that may
become directly conscious in various d-ASCs; (6) Emotions; (7)
Evaluation and Decision-Making—OUT cognitive evaluating skills
and habits; (8) Space/Time Sense— the construction of psycho-
logical space and time and the placing of events within it; (9)
Sense of Identity—the quality added to experience that makes it
a personal experience instead of just information; and (10)
Motor Output—muscular and glandular outputs to the external
world and the body. These subsystems are not ultimates, b u t
convenient categories to organize current knowledge.
O u r current knowledge of h u m a n consciousness and d-SoCs is
highly fragmented and chaotic. T h e main purpose of the systems
approach presented here is organizational: it allows us to relate
what were formerly disparate bits of data and supplies numerous
methodological consequences for guiding f u t u r e research. It
makes the general prediction that the n u m b e r of d-SoCs avail-
able to h u m a n beings is definitely limited, although we d o not
yet know those limits. It further provides a paradigm for making
more specific predictions that will sharpen our knowledge about
the structures and subsystems that make u p h u m a n consciousness.
T h e r e are enormously important individual differences in the
structure of d-SoCs. If we m a p the experiential space in which
two people function, one person may show two discrete, separated
clusters of experiential functioning (two d-SoCs), while the
other may show continuous functioning throughout both regions
and the connecting regions of experiential space. T h e first person
must make a special effort to travel from one region of experien-
tial space (one d-SoC) to the other; the second makes no special
effort and does not experience the contrast of pattern and struc-
ture differences associated with the two regions (the two d-SoCs).
T h u s what is a special state of consciousness for one person may
be an everyday experience for another. Great confusion results if
we do not watch for these differences: unfortunately, many
widely used experimental procedures are not sensitive to these

important individual differences.
Induction of a d-ASC involves two basic operations that, if
successful, lead to the d-ASC from the b-SoC. First, we apply
disrupting forces to the b-SoC—psychological a n d / o r physiologi-
cal actions that disrupt the stabilization processes discussed above
either by interfering with them or by withdrawing a t t e n t i o n /
awareness energy or other kinds of energies from them. Because a
d-SoC is a complex system, with multiple stabilization processes
operating simultaneously, induction may not work. A psyche-
delic drug, for example, may not produce a d-ASC because psy-
chological stabilization processes hold the b-SoC stable in spite of
the disrupting action of the drug on a physiological level.
If induction is proceeding successfully, the disrupting forces
push various structures/subsystems to their limits of stable func-
tioning and then beyond, destroying the integrity of the system
and disrupting the stability of the b-SoC as a system. T h e n , in
the second part of the induction process, we apply patterning
forces d u r i n g this transitional, disorganized period—psychologi-
cal a n d / o r physiological actions that pattern structures/subsys-
tems into a new system, the desired d-ASC. T h e new system, the d-
ASC, must develop its own stabilization processes if it is to last.
Deinduction, return to the b-SoC, is the same process as induc-
tion. T h e d-ASC is disrupted, a transitional period occurs, and
the b-SoC is reconstructed by patterning forces. T h e subject
transits back to his customary region of experiential space.
Psychedelic drugs like marijuana or LSD d o not have invari-
ant psychological effects, even though much misguided research
assumes they do. In the present approach, such drugs are disrupt-
ing and patterning forces whose effects occur in combination
with other psychological factors, all mediated by the operating d-
SoC. Consider the so-called reverse tolerance effect of marijuana
that allows new users to consume very large quantities of the
d r u g with no feeling of being stoned (in a d-ASC), b u t later to
use much smaller quantities of m a r i j u a n a to achieve the d-ASC.
T h i s is not paradoxical in the systems approach, even though it is
paradoxical in the standard pharmacological approach. T h e
physiological action of the marijuana is not sufficient to disrupt
the ordinary d-SoC until additional psychological factors disrupt
enough of the stabilization processes of the b-SoC to allow transi-
tion to the tl-ASC. These additional psychological forces are
usually "a little help from my friends," the instructions for
deployment of attention/awareness energy given by experienced
users who know what functioning in the d-ASC of marijuana
intoxication is like. These instructions also serve as patterning
forces to shape the d-ASC, to teach the new user how to employ
the physiological effects of the drug to form a new system of
consciousness.
T h i s book also discusses methodological problems in research
from the point of view of the systems approach: for example, the
way in which experiential observations of consciousness and tran-
sitions from one d-SoC to another can be made and the shifts in
research strategies that this approach calls for. T h e systems ap-
proach can also be applied within the ordinary d-SoC to deal
with identity states, those rapid shifts in the central core of a
person's identity and concerns that are overlooked for many rea-
sons, and emotional states. Similarly the systems approach indi-
cates that latent h u m a n potential can be developed and used in
various d-ASCs, so that learning to shift into the d-ASC appropri-
ate for dealing with a particular problem is part of psychological
growth. At the opposite extreme, certain kinds of psychopathol-
ogy, such as multiple personality, can be treated as d-ASCs.
One of the most important consequences of the systems ap-
proach is the deduction that we need to develop state-specific
sciences. Insofar as a " n o r m a l " d-SoC is a semi-arbitrary way of
structuring consciousness, a way that loses some h u m a n poten-
tials while developing others, the sciences we have developed are
one-state sciences. T h e y are limited in important ways. O u r
ordinary sciences have been very successful in dealing with the
physical world, b u t not very successful in dealing with particu-
larly h u m a n psychological problems. If we apply scientific
method to developing sciences within various d-ASCs, we can
evolve sciences based on radically different perceptions, logics,
and communications, and so gain new views complementary to
our current ones.
T h e search for new views, new ways of coping, through the
experience of d-ASCs is hardly limited to science. It is a m a j o r
basis for our culture's romance with drugs, meditation, Eastern
religions, and the like. But infatuation with a new view, a new d-
SoC, tends to make us forget that any d-SoC is a limited construc-
tion. T h e r e is a price to be paid for everything we get. It is vital

for us to develop sciences of this powerful, life-changing area of d-
ASCs if we are to optimize benefits from the growing use of them
and avoid the dangers of ignorant or superstitious tampering
with the basic structure of consciousness,
2.
The Components of Consciousness:

Awareness, Energy, Structures
People use the phrase states of consciousness to describe unusual

alterations in the way consciousness functions. In this chapter we
consider some of the experiences people use to judge what states
they are in, in order to illustrate the complexity of experience.
We then consider what basic concepts or components we need to
make sense out of this variety of experiences.
I have often begun a lecture on states of consciousness by
asking the audience the following question: "Is there anyone
here right now who seriously believes that what you are experi-
encing, in this room, at this moment, may be something you are
just dreaming? I don't mean picky, philosophical doubts about
the ultimate nature of experience or anything like that. I'm
asking whether anyone in any seriously practical way thinks this
might be a dream you're experiencing now, rather than your
ordinary state of consciousness?" How do you, dear reader, know
that you are actually reading this book now, rather than just
dreaming about it? T h i n k about it before going on,
I have asked this question of many audiences, and I have only
occasionally seen a hand go up. No one has stuck to defending
this position. If you take this question to mean, "How do you
know you're not dreaming now?" you probably take a quick
internal scan of the content and quality of your experience and
find that some specific elements of it, as well as the overall
The Components of Consciousness *5
pattern of your experience, match those qualities you have come
to associate with your ordinary waking consciousness, but do not
match the qualities you have come to associate with being in a
dreaming state of consciousness.
I ask this question in order to remind the reader of a basic
d a t u m underlying my approach to consciousness—that a person
sometimes scans the pattern of his ongoing experience and classi-
fies it as being one or another state of consciousness.
Many people make distinctions among only a few states of
consciousness, since they experience only a few. Everyone, for
example, probably distinguishes between his ordinary waking
state, dreaming, and dreamless sleep. Some others may distin-
guish drunkenness as a fourth state of consciousness. Still others
who have personally experimented with altered states may want
to distinguish among drug-induced, meditative, and emotion-
induced states.
W i t h o u t yet attempting to define consciousness or states of
consciousness more precisely, suppose we ask people who have
personally experienced many states of consciousness how they
make these distinctions. W h a t do they look for in their experi-
ence that alerts them to the fact that they are in a different state
of consciousness from their ordinary one? A few years ago I asked
a group of graduate students who had had fairly wide experience
with altered states, " W h a t sorts of things in yourself do you check
on if you want to decide what state of consciousness you're in at a
given moment?" T a b l e 2-1 presents a categorization of the kinds
of answers they gave, a categorization in terms of the systems
approach I am explaining as we go along. A wide variety of
unusual experiences in perceptions of the world or of oneself, of
changes in time, emotion, memory, sense of identity, cognitive
processes, perception of the world, use of the body (motor out-
put) , and interaction with the world were mentioned.
If we ignore the categorization of the experiences listed in
T a b l e 2-1, we have an illustration of the current state of knowl-
edge about states of consciousness—that people experience a
wide variety of unusual things. While the experiencers imply
that there are meaningful patterns in their experiences that they
cluster together as "states," our current scientific knowledge
about how this wide variety of things goes together is poor. T o
understand people's experiences in this area more adequately we
Table 2-1
E X P E R I E N T I A L C R I T E R I A FOR D E T E C T I N G AN
A L T E R E D S T A T E OF CONSCIOUSNESS
EXTEROCEPTION (sensing the external world)

Alteration in various sensory characteristics of the perceived w o r l d -
glowing lights at the edges of things, attenuation or accentuation
of visual depth
INTEROCEPTION (sensing the body)

Alteration in perceived body image—shape or size changes
Alteration in detectable physiological parameters—accelerated or
retarded heart rate, respiration rate, muscle tonus, tremor
Perception of special bodily feelings not normally present—feelings
of energy in the body, generally or specially localized, as in the
spine; change in quality of energy flow in the body, such as
intensity, focus vs. diffuseness
INPUT-PROCESSING (seeing meaningful stimuli)

Sensory excitement, involvement, sensuality
Enhanced or decreased sensory intensity
Alterations of dominance-interaction hierarchies of various sensory
modalities
Illusion, hallucination, perception of patterns and things otherwise
known to be unlikely to actually exist in the environment
EMOTIONS
Alteration in emotional response to stimuli—overreacting, under-
reacting, not reacting, reacting in an entirely different way
Extreme intensity of emotions
MEMORY
Changes in continuity of memory over time—either an implicit
feeling that continuity is present or an explicit checking of
memory that shows current experience to be consistent with con-
tinuous memories leading up to the present, with gaps suggesting
an altered state
Details. Checking fine details of perceived environment (ex-
ternal or internal) against memories of how they should be to
detect incongruities
T I M E SENSE
Unusual feeling of here-and-nowness
Feeling of great slowing or speeding of time
Feeling of orientation to past a n d / o r future, regardless of relation
to present
Feeling of archetypal quality to time; atemporal experience
SENSE OF IDENTITY
Sense of unusual identity, role
Alienation, detachment, perspective on usual identity or identities
EVALUATION AND COGNITIVE PROCESSING

Alteration in rate of thought
Alteration in quality of thought—sharpness, clarity
Alteration of rules of logic (compared with memory of usual rules)
MOTOR OUTPUT
Alteration in amount or quality of self-control
Change in the active body image, the way the body feels when in
motion, the proprioceptive feedback signals that guide actions
Restlessness, tremor, partial paralysis
INTERACTION W I T H T H E E N V I R O N M E N T *
Performance of unusual or impossible behaviors—incongruity of
consequences resulting from behavioral outputs, either immediate
or longer term
Change in anticipation of consequences of specific behaviors—either
prebehavioral or learned from observation of consequences
Change in voice quality
Change in feeling of degree of orientation to or contact with im-
mediate environment
Change in involvement with vs. detachment from environment
Change in communications with others—incongruities or altered
patterns, consensual validation or lack of it
* This category represents the combined functioning of several subsystems.
must develop conceptual frameworks, theoretical tools, that make

sense out of the experiences in some more basic way and that still
remain reasonably true to the experiences as reported.
We can now begin to look at a conceptual framework that I
have been developing for several years about the nature of con-
sciousness, and particularly about the nature of states of con-
sciousness. Although what we loosely call altered states of
consciousness are often vitually important in determining h u m a n
values and behavior, and although we are in the midst of a
cultural evolution (or decay, depending on your values) in
which experiences from altered states of consciousness play an
23
important part, o u r scientific knowledge of this area is still
sparse. W e have a few relationships, a small-scale theory here and
there, b u t mainly assorted and unrelated observations and ideas.
My systems approach attempts to give an overall picture of this
area to guide f u t u r e research in a useful fashion.
I call this framework for studying consciousness a systems ap-
proach because I take the position that consciousness, as we know
it, is not a g r o u p of isolated psychological functions but a sys-
tem—an interacting, dynamic configuration of psychological
components that performs various functions in greatly changing
environments. While knowledge of the n a t u r e of the components
is useful, to understand fully any system we must also consider
the environments with which it deals and the goals of its func-
tioning. So in trying to understand h u m a n consciousness, we
must get the feel of the whole system as it operates in its world,
not just study isolated parts of it.
I emphasize a psychological approach to states of consciousness
because that is the approach I know best, and I believe it is
adequate for building a comprehensive science of consciousness.
But because the approach deals with systems, it can be easily
translated into behavioral or neurophysiological terms [52].
Let us now look at the basic elements of this systems approach,
the basic postulates about what lies behind the phenomenal
manifestations of experience. I n the following chapters we will
p u t these basic elements of awareness, energy, and structure to-
gether into the systems we call states of consciousness.
Awareness and Energy
We begin with a concept of some kind of basic awareness—an

ability to know or sense or cognize or recognize that something is
happening. T h i s is a basic theoretical and experiential given. W e
do not know scientifically what its ultimate nature is, 1 but it is
where we start from. I call this concept attention/awareness, to
relate it to another basic given, which is that we have some
ability to direct this awareness from one thing to another.
T h i s basic attention/awareness is something we can both con-
l The reader may ask, "How can we study awareness or consciousness when
we don't know what it basically is?" The answer is, "In the same way that
physicists studied and still study gravity: they don't know what it is, but they
can study what it does and how it relates to other things."
ceptualize and (to some extent) experience as distinct from the

particular content of awareness at any time. I am aware
of a plant beside me at this moment of writing and if I turn my
head I am aware of a chair. T h e function of basic awareness
remains in spite of various changes in its content.
A second basic theoretical and experiential given is the exis-
tence, at times, of an awareness of being aware, self-awareness.
T h e degree of self-awareness varies from moment to moment. At
one extreme, I can be very aware that at this moment I am aware
that I am looking at the plant beside me. At the other extreme, I
may be totally involved in looking at the plant, b u t not be aware
of being aware of it. T h e r e is an experiential continuum at one
end of which attention/awareness and the particular content of
awareness are essentially merged, 2 and at the other end of which
awareness of being aware exists in addition to the particular
content of the awareness. In between are mixtures: at this mo-
ment of writing I am groping for clarity of the concept I want to
express and trying out various phrases to see if they adequately
express it. In low-intensity flashes, I have some awareness of what
I am doing, but most of the time I am absorbed in this particu-
lar thought process. T h e lower end of the self-awareness con-
tinuum, relatively total absorption, is probably where we spend
most of o u r lives, even though we like to credit ourselves with
high self-awareness.
T h e relative rarity of self-awareness is a major contributor to
neurotic qualities in behavior and to the classification of ordi-
nary consciousness as illusion or waking dreaming by many spiri-
tual systems, an idea explored in Chapter 19. T h e higher end of
the continuum of self-awareness comes to us even more rarely,
although it may be sought deliberately in certain kinds of medi-
tative practices, such as the Buddhist vipassana meditation dis-
cussed in Chapter 7.
T h e ultimate degree of self-awareness, of separation of atten-
tion/awareness from content, that is possible in any final sense
varies with one's theoretical position about the ultimate nature
of the mind. If one adopts the conventional view that mental
activity is a product of brain functioning, thus totally controlled
by the electrical-structural activity of brain functioning, there is
a definite limit to how far awareness can back off from particular
2 Something we can only know retrospectively.

content, since that awareness is a product of the structure and

content of the individual brain. T h i s is a psychological mani-
festation of the physical principle of relativity, discussed in Chap-
ter 18. Although the feeling of being aware can have an objective
quality, this conventional position holds that the objectivity is
only relative, for the very function of awareness itself stems from
and is shaped by the brain activity it is attempting to be aware
of.
A more radical view, common to the spiritual psychologies
[128], is that basic awareness is not just a property of the brain,
but is (at least partially) something from outside the workings of
the brain. Insofar as this is true, it is conceivable that most or all
content associated with brain processes could potentially be stood
back from so that the degree of separation between content and
attention/awareness, the degree of self-awareness, is potentially
much higher than in the conservative view.
Whichever ultimate view one takes, the psychologically impor-
tant concept for studying consciousness is that the degree of
experienced separation of attention/awareness from content
varies considerably from moment to moment.
Attention/awareness can be volitionally directed to some ex-
tent. If I ask you to become aware of the sensations in your left
knee now, you can d o so. But few would claim anything like
total ability to direct attention. If you are being burned by a
flame, it is generally impossible to direct your attention/aware-
ness to something else and not notice the pain at all, although
this can be done by a few people in the ordinary d-SoC and by
many more people in certain states of consciousness. Like the
degree of separation of attention/awareness from content, the
degree to which we can volitionally direct our attention/aware-
ness also varies. Sometimes we can easily direct our thoughts
according to a predetermined plan; at other times our minds
wander with n o regard at all for our plans.
Stimuli and structures attract or capture attention/awareness.
W h e n you are walking down the street, the sound and sight of an
accident and a crowd suddenly gathering attract your attention
to the incident. T h i s attractive pull of stimuli and activated
structures may outweigh volitional attempts to deploy a t t e n t i o n /
awareness elsewhere. For example, you worry over and over
about a particular problem and are told that you are wasting
energy by going a r o u n d in circles and should direct your atten-
tion elsewhere. But, in spite of your desire to do so, you may find
it almost impossible.
T h e ease with which particular kinds of structures and con-
tents capture attention/awareness varies with the state of con-
sciousness and the personality structure of the individual. For
example, things that are highly valued or are highly threatening
capture attention much more easily than things that bore us.
Indeed, we can partially define personality as those structures
that habitually capture a person's attention/awareness. In some
states of consciousness, attention/awareness is more forcibly capti-
vated by stimuli than in others.
Attention/awareness constitutes the major energy of the mind,
as we usually experience it. Energy is here used in its most
abstract sense—the ability to do work, to make something hap-
pen. Attention/awareness is energy (1) in the sense that struc-
tures having n o effect o n consciousness at a given time can be
activated if attended to; (2) in the sense that structures may
draw attention/awareness energy automatically, habitually, as a
function of personality structure, thus keeping a kind of low-
level, automated attention in them all the time (these are our
long-term desires, concerns, phobias, blindnesses); and (3) in
the sense that attention/awareness energy may inhibit particular
structures from functioning. T h e selective redistribution of
attention/awareness energy to desired ends is a key aspect of
innumerable systems that have been developed to control the
mind.
T h e concept of psychological energy is usually looked upon
with disfavor by psychologists because it is difficult to define
clearly. Yet various kinds of psychological energies are direct
experiential realities. I am, for example, full of energy for writ-
ing at this moment. W h e n interrupted a minute ago, I resented
having to divert this energy from writing to dealing with a
different issue. Last night I was tired; I felt little energy available
to do what I wished to do. Those who prefer to give priority to
observations about the body and nervous system in their think-
ing would tell me that various chemicals in my bloodstream were
responsible for these varied feelings. But "chemicals in my blood-
stream" is a very intellectual, abstract concept to me, while the
feelings of energy and of tiredness are direct experiences for me
and most other people. So we must consider psychological energy
in order to keep our theorizing close to experience.
27
I cannot deal in any detail with psychological energy at this
stage of development of the systems approach, for we know little
about it. Clearly, changing the focus of attention (as in trying to
sense what is happening in your left knee) has effects: it starts,
stops, and alters psychological processes. Also, attention/aware-
ness is not the only form of psychological energy. Emotions, for
example, constitute a very important kind of energy, different in
quality from simple attention/awareness shifts, but interacting
with attention/awareness as an energy. So while this book deals
primarily with attention/awareness as psychological energy, the
concept of psychological energy is much more complex and is
one of the major areas to be developed in the future.
Note that the total amount of attention/awareness energy
available to a person varies from time to time, but there may be
some fixed upper limit on it for a particular day or other time
period. Some days, we simply cannot concentrate well no matter
how much we desire it; other days we seem able to focus clearly,
to use lots of attention to accomplish things. W e talk about
exhausting o u r ability to pay attention, a n d it may be that the
total amount of attention/awareness energy available is fixed for
various time periods under ordinary conditions.
Structures
T h e mind, from which consciousness arises, consists of myriad

structures. A psychological structure refers to a relatively stable
organization of component parts that perform one or more re-
lated psychological functions.
W e infer (from outside) the existence of a particular structure
by observing that a certain kind of i n p u t information reliably
results in specific transformed o u t p u t information under typical
conditions. For example, we ask someone, " H o w much is four-
teen divided by seven?" and he answers, " T w o . " After repeating
this process, with variations, we infer the existence of a special
structure or related set of structures we can call arithmetical
skills. Experientially, we infer (from inside) the existence of a
particular structure when, given certain classes of experienced
input information, we experience certain transformed classes of
output/response information. T h u s , when I overhear the ques-
tion about fourteen divided by seven and observe that some part
of me automatically responds with the correct answer, I infer an
arithmetical skills structure as part of my own mind.
W e hypothesize that structures generally continue to exist even
when they are not active, since they operate again when appro-
priate activating information is present. I again know that four-
teen divided by seven is two, even though I stopped thinking
about it for a while.
T h e emphasis here is o n the structure forming something that
has a recognizable shape, pattern, function, and process that
endure over time. Ordinarily we are interested in the structure's
overall properties as a complete structure, as a structured system,
rather than in the workings of its component parts. Insofar as
any structure can be broken down into substructures and sub-
substructures, finer analyses are possible ad infinitum. T h e arith-
metical skill structure can be broken down into adding,
subtracting, multiplying, or dividing substructures. Such micro-
scopic analyses, however, may not always be relevant to an
understanding of the properties of the overall system, such as the
state of consciousness, that one is working with. T h e most obvi-
ous thing that characterizes an automobile as a system is its
ability to move passengers along roads at high speed; a metal-
lurgical analysis of its spark plugs is not relevant to an under-
standing of its primary functioning and nature. O u r concern,
then, is with the psychological structures that show functions
useful to our understanding of consciousness. Such structures can
be given names—sexual needs, social coping mechanisms, lan-
guage abilities.
Note that some structures may be so complex that we are
unable to recognize them as structures. W e see only component
parts and never understand how they all work together.
A psychological structure may vary in the intensity a n d / o r the
quality of its activity, both overall and in terms of its component
parts, but still retain its basic patterns (gestalt qualities) and so
remain recognizably the same. A car is usefully referred to as a
car whether it is moving at five or twenty-five miles an hour,
whether it is red or blue, whether the original spark plugs have
been replaced by spark plugs of a different brand. W e anticipate
an understanding of a state of consciousness as a system here.
Some structures are essentially permanent. T h e important
aspects of their functioning cannot be modified in any signifi-
cant way; they are biological/physiological givens. T h e y are the
hardware of our mental system. T o use an analogy from com-
puter programming, they are fixed programs, functions built into
the machinery of the nervous system.
Some structures are mainly or totally given by an individual's
particular developmental history: they are created by, pro-
grammed by, learning, conditioning, and enculturation processes
that the individual undergoes. T h i s is the software of the h u m a n
biocomputer. Because of the immense programmability of
h u m a n beings, most of the structures that interest us, that we
consider particularly human, are in this software category.
Permanent structures create limits on, and add qualities to,
what can be done with programmable structures: the hardware
puts some constraints on what the software can be. T h e physio-
logical parameters constituting a h u m a n being place some limits
on his particular mental experience and his possible range of
programming.
O u r interest is in relatively permanent structures, 3 ones that
are around long enough for us conveniently to observe, experi-
ence and study. But all the theoretical ideas in this book should
be applicable to structures that are not long-lasting, even though
investigation may be more difficult.
Structures, for the outside investigator, are hypothesized ex-
planatory entitites based on experiential, behavioral, or psycho-
logical data. T h e y are also hypothesized explanatory concepts for
each of us in looking at his own experience: I know that fourteen
divided by two equals seven, but I do not experience the arith-
metical skills structure directly; I only know that when I need
that kind of knowledge, it appears and functions. Since I need
not hold on consciously to that knowledge all the time, I readily
believe or hypothesize that it is stored in some kind of structure,
someplace " i n " my mind.
Interaction of Structure and Attention/Awareness

Many structures function completely independently of atten-
tion/awareness. An example is any basic physiological structure
3 1 suspect that man) of these relatively permanent psychological structures
exist not just in the nervous system but as muscle and connective tissue sets in
the body, and can be changed radically by such procedures as structural
integration [54.]
such as the kidneys. We infer their integrity and nature as struc-
tures from other kinds of data, as we have n o direct awareness
of their functioning. 4 Such structures do not utilize a t t e n t i o n /
awareness as energy, but use other forms of physiological/psycho-
logical activating energy. Structures that cannot be observed by
attention/awareness are of incidental interest to the study of
consciousness, except for their indirect influence on other struc-
tures that are accessible to conscious awareness.
Some structures require a certain a m o u n t of attention/aware-
ness energy in order to (1) be formed or created in the first place
(software programming), (2) operate, (3) have their operation
inhibited, (4) have their structure or operation modified, a n d / o r
(5) be destructured and dismantled. W e call these psychological
structures when it is important to distinguish them from struc-
tures in general. Many structures require attention/awareness
energy for their initial formation. T h e attention originally re-
quired to learn arithmetical skills is an excellent example. Once
the knowledge or structure we call arithmetical skills is formed, it
is usually present only in inactive, latent form. An arithmetical
question directs attention/awareness to that particular structure,
and we experience arithmetical skills. If o u r original program-
ming was not very thorough, a fairly obvious amount of atten-
tion/awareness energy is necessary to use this skill. Once the
structure has become highly automated and overlearned, only a
small amount of attention/awareness energy is needed to activate
and r u n the structure. W e solve basic arithmetic problems, for
example, with little awareness of the process involved in so
doing.
Note that while we have distinguished attention/awareness
and structure for analytical convenience and in order to be true
to certain experiential data, ordinarily we deal with activated
mental structures. W e acquire data about structures when the
structures are functioning, utilizing attention/awareness energy
or other kinds of psychological energies.
Although we postulate that attention/awareness energy is
* We should be careful about a priori definitions that certain structures

must be outside awareness. Data from the rapidly developing science of bio-
feedback, and traditional data from yoga and other spiritual disciplines, re-
mind us that many processes long considered totally outside conscious aware-
ness can be brought to conscious awareness with appropriate training.
capable of activating and altering psychological structures, is the
fuel that makes many structures run, o u r experience is that
affecting the operation of structures by the volitional deployment
of attention/awareness energy is not always easy. Attempts to
alter a structure's operation by attending to it in certain ways
may have no effect or even a contrary effect to what we wish.
Attempts to stop a certain structure from operating by trying to
withhold attention energy from it may fail. T h e reasons for this
are twofold.
First, if the structure is (at least partially) operating on energy
other than attention/awareness, it may n o longer be possible to
change it with the a m o u n t of attention/awareness energy we are
able to focus on it. Second, even if the structure still operates
with attention/awareness energy, complete control of this energy
may be beyond our conscious volition for one or both of the
following reasons: (1) the energy flow through it may be so
automatized and overlearned, so implicit, that we simply do not
know how to affect it; and (2) the functioning structure may
have vital (and often implicit or hidden) connections with our
reward and punishment systems, so that there are secondary gains
from the operation of the structure, despite o u r conscious com-
plaints. Indeed, it seems clear that for ordinary people in ordi-
nary states of consciousness, the a m o u n t of attention/awareness
energy subject to conscious control and deployment is quite small
compared with the relatively permanent investments of energy in
certain basic structures composing the individual's personality
and his adaptation to the consensus reality of his culture.
Since the a m o u n t of attention/awareness energy available at
any particular time has a fixed u p p e r limit, some decrement
should be found when too many structures draw o n this energy
simultaneously. However, if the available attention/awareness
energy is greater than the total being used, simultaneous activa-
tion of several structures incurs no decrement.
Once a structure has been formed and is operating, either in
isolation or in interaction with other structures, the a t t e n t i o n /
awareness energy required for its operation can be automatically
drawn on either intermittently or continuously. T h e personality
and normal state of consciousness are operating in such a way
that attention is repeatedly and automatically d r a w n to the
particular structure. Personality can be partially defined as the
set of interacting structures (traits) habitually activated by at-
tention/awareness energy. Unless he develops the ability to de-
ploy attention in an observational mode, the self-awareness
mode, a person may not realize that his attention/awareness
energy is being drawn to this structure.
T h e r e is a fluctuating b u t generally large drain on a t t e n t i o n /
awareness energy at all times by the multitude of automated,
interacting structures whose operation constitutes personality,
the normal state of consciousness. Because the basic structures
composing this are activated most of a person's waking life, he
perceives this activation not as a drain on attention/awareness
energy, but simply as the natural state of things. H e has become
habituated to it. T h e most important data supporting this obser-
vation come from reports of the effects of meditation, a process
that in many ways is a deliberate deployment of a t t e n t i o n /
awareness from its customary structures to nonordinary struc-
tures or to maintenance of a relatively pure, detached awareness.
From these kinds of experiences it can be concluded that atten-
tion/awareness energy must be used to support the ordinary state
of consciousness. Don J u a n expounds this view to Carlos Casta-
neda [12] as the rationale for certain training exercises ("not
doing") designed to disrupt the habitual deployment of atten-
tion/awareness energy into channels that maintain ("doing")
ordinary consensus reality. And from experiences of apparent
clarity, the automatized drain of attention/awareness energy into
habitually activated structures is seen by meditators as blurring
the clarity of basic awareness, so that ordinary consciousness
appears hazy and dreamlike.
Interaction of Structures and Structures
Although the interaction of one psychological structure with

another structure depends on activation of both structures by
attention/awareness energy, this interaction is modified by an
important limitation: that individual structures have various
kinds of properties that limit and control their potential range of
interaction with one another. Structures are not equipotent with
respect to interacting with one another, b u t have important
individual characteristics. You cannot see with your ears.
Information is fed into any structure in one or more ways and
comes out of the structure in one or more ways. 8 W e can say in
general that for two structures to interact (1) they must have
either a direct connection between them or some connections
mediated by other structures, (2) their input and o u t p u t infor-
mation must be in the same code so information o u t p u t from one
makes sense to the i n p u t for the other, (3) the o u t p u t signals of
one structure must not be so weak that they are below the
threshold for reception by the other structure, (4) the o u t p u t
signals of one structure must not be so strong that they overload
the input of the other structure.
Now let us consider ways in which psychological structures
may not interact. First, two structures may not interact because
there is n o direct or mediated connection between them. I have,
for example, structures involved in moving the little finger of my
left hand and sensing its motion, and I have structures involved
in sensing my body temperature and telling me whether I have a
fever or a chill. Although I am moving my little finger vigorously
now, I can get no sense of having either a fever or a chill from
that action. T h o s e two structures seem to be totally unconnected.
Second, two structures may not interact if the codes of o u t p u t
and input information are incompatible. My body, for example,
has learned to ride a bicycle. While I can sense that knowledge in
my body, in the structure that mediates my experience of riding
a bicycle when I actually am doing so, I cannot verbalize it in
any adequate way. T h e n a t u r e of the knowledge encoded in that
particular structure does not code into the kind of knowledge
that constitutes my verbal structures.
T h i r d , two structures may not interact if the o u t p u t signal
from one is too weak, below the threshold for affecting another.
W h e n I am angry with someone and arguing with him, there
may, d u r i n g the argument, be a still small voice in me telling me
that I am acting foolishly, b u t I have little awareness of that still
small voice, and it cannot affect the action of the structures
involved in feeling angry and arguing.
SFor complex structures, we should probably also distinguish among (1)

inputs and outputs that we can be consciously aware of with suitable deploy-
ment of attention/awareness, (2) inputs and outputs that we cannot be con-
sciously aware of but that we can make inferences about, and (3) inputs and
outputs that are part of feedback control interconnections between structures,
which we cannot be directly aware of. Further, we must allow for energy
exchanges, as well as informational exchanges, between structures.
Fourth, two structures may not interact properly if the o u t p u t
signal from one overloads the other. I may be in severe pain
during a medical procedure, for instance, and I know (another
structure tells me) that if I could relax the pain would be
lessened considerably; b u t the structures involved in relaxing are
so overloaded by the intense pain that they cannot carry out
their normal function.
Fifth, two structures may be unable to interact properly if the
action of a third structure interferes with them. An example is a
neurotic defense mechanism. Suppose, for instance, your em-
ployer constantly humiliates you. Suppose also that part of your
personality structure has a strong respect for authority and a
belief in yourself as a very calm person who is not easily angered.
Now your boss is humiliating you, but instead of feeling angry
(the natural consequence of the situation), you are polite and
conciliatory, and d o not feel the anger. A structure of your
personality has suppressed certain possible interactions between
other structures (but there may well be a hidden price paid for
this suppression, like ulcers).
Now consider the case of smoother interaction between struc-
tures. T w o structures may interact readily and smoothly with one
another to form a composite structure, a system whose properties
are additive properties of the individual structures, as well as
gestalt properties u n i q u e to the combination. Or, two or more
structures may interact with one another in such a way that the
total system alters some of the properties of the individual struc-
tures to various degrees, producing a system with gestalt prop-
erties that are not simple additive properties of the individual
structures. Unstable interactions may also occur between two or
more structures that compete for energy, producing an unstable,
shifting relationship in the composite system.
All these considerations about the interactional structures
apply to both hardware (biologically given) and software (cul-
turally programmed) structures. For example, two systems may
not interact for a lack of connection in the sense that their basic
neural paths, built into the hardware of the h u m a n being, do not
allow such interaction. Or, two software structures may not inter-
act for lack of connection because in the enculturation, the
programming of the person, the appropriate connections were
simply not created.
All the classical psychological defense mechanisms can be
viewed in these system terms as ways of controlling interaction
patterns among perceptions and psychological structures.
Remember that in the real h u m a n being many structures
usually interact simultaneously, with all the above-mentioned
factors facilitating or inhibiting interaction to various degrees at
various points in the total system formed.
T h u s while the interaction of structures is affected by the way
attention/awareness energy is deployed, it is also affected by the
properties of individual structures. In computer terms, we are
not totally general-purpose computers, capable of being pro-
grammed in just any arbitrary fashion. W e are specialized: that is
our strength, weakness, and humanness.
3
Conservative and Radical

Views of the Mind
<HKH«H>a<HKHKHKHWKHCH^
An almost universal theory in Western scientific circles, sunk to

the level of an implicit belief and thus controlling us effectively,
is that awareness is a product of brain functioning. No brain
functioning—no awareness, no consciousness. T h i s is the con-
servative view of the mind. It is dangerous as an implicit belief
for two reasons. First, many experiences in various altered states
of consciousness are inconsistent with this theory, but implicit
faith in the conservative view makes us liable to distort our
perception of these phenomena. Second, parapsychological data
suggest that awareness is at least partially outside brain function-
ing, a condition that leads to very different views of human
nature. T h e radical view of the mind sees awareness as this
something extra and postulates that physical reality can some-
times be directly affected by our belief systems. We must be
openminded about the radical view to guard against maintain-
ing too narrow and too culturally conditioned a view of the
mind.
Although in general speech we tend to use the terms awareness
and consciousness to mean basically the same thing, I use them
here with somewhat different meanings. Awareness refers to the
basic knowledge that something is happening, to perceiving or
feeling or cognizing in its simplest form. Consciousness gen-
erally refers to awareness in a much more complex way; con-
sciousness is awareness as modulated by the structure of the
mind. Mind refers to the totality of both inferable and poten-
tially experienceable phenomena of which awareness and con-
sciousness are components. These are not precise definitions
because the three key words—awareness, consciousness, and mind
—are not simple things. But they are realities, and we must deal
with them whether or not we can give them precise logical
definitions. Since logic is only one product of the total function-
ing of the mind, it is no wonder that we cannot arrive at a logical
definition of the mind or consciousness or awareness. T h e part
cannot define the whole.
Awareness and consciousness, then, can be seen as parts of a
continuum. I would use the word awareness to describe, for in-
stance, my simple perception of the sound of a bird outside my
window as I write. I would use the word consciousness to indicate
the complex of operations that recognizes the sound as a bird call,
that identifies the species of bird, and that takes account of the
fact that the sound is coming in through my open window. So
consciousness refers to a rather complex system that includes
awareness as one of its basic ingredients, but is more complex
than simple awareness itself.
Few psychologists today would argue with the statement that
consciousness is awareness resulting from the brain's functioning.
But if you ask what is the basic nature of awareness, the simple
basic behind the more complex entity consciousness, you meet
the common assumption in Western culture generally and scien-
tific culture in particular that awareness is a "product" of the
brain. W h e n psychology was fond of chemical analogies, aware-
ness was thought of as a sort of "secretion" by the brain.
I believe that seeing consciousness as a function of the brain is
sound, but I think that explicitly or implicitly assuming that
awareness is only a function of the brain, as accepted as that
theory is, can be a hindrance, for two reasons.
First, as psychology deals more and more with the phenomena
of altered states of consciousness, it will more and more have to
deal with phenomena that d o not fit well in a conceptual scheme
that says awareness is only a product of the brain. Experiences of
apparently paranormal abilities like telepathy, of feeling that
one's mind leaves one's body, of mystical union with aspects of
the universe outside oneself, of supernormal knowledge directly
given in altered states, fit more comfortably into schemes that do
not assume that awareness is only a function of the brain. I have
Conservative and Radical Views of the Mind ap
nothing against competent attempts to fit such phenomena into

our dominant Western scientific framework, but the attempts I
have seen so far have been most inadequate and seem to work
mainly by ignoring major aspects of these altered states phenom-
ena. T h u s the assumption that awareness is only a function of
the brain, especially as it becomes implicit, tends to distort our
view of real phenomena that happen in altered states. W e dismiss
their possible reality a priori. We cannot build a science when we
start with such a selected view of the data.
T h e second reason for questioning this assumption is the exis-
tence of first-class scientific data to suggest that awareness may be
something other than a product of the brain. I refer to excellent
evidence of parapsychological phenomena like telepathy, evi-
dence that shows that the mind can sometimes function in ways
that are "impossible" in terms of our current, physical view of
the world. I review our knowledge of the paranormal in Studies
of Psi [131]. "Impossible" means only that these phenomena are
paraconceptual, that our conceptual schemes are inadequate be-
cause they exclude this part of reality. These same conceptual
schemes underlie the belief that awareness is only a product of
the brain, and if we question these conceptual schemes we ques-
tion that assumption. T h i s book is not the place for detailed
argument, b u t I have discussed the subject at greater length in
Transpersonal Psychologies [128], which reviews the impact of
the spiritual psychologies on the evolving science of consciousness.
T h i s view that awareness is only a function of the brain—the
conservative or physicalistic view of the mind—is diagrammed in
Figure 3-1. T h e brain (and nervous system and body) are de-
picted as a structure that has hardware qualities on the one hand
and software qualities on the other. T h e hardware qualities are
those inherent in the physical makeup of the brain itself, as
dictated by the physical laws that govern reality. T h i s dictation
of limitation is shown as a one-way arrow from the physical
world to the brain. T h e software qualities are the programmable
aspects of the brain, the capacities for recording data and build-
ing u p perception, evaluation, and action patterns in accordance
with programming instructions given by the culture. T h e arrows
of influence are two-way here, for even though the programming
is largely done by the culture to the individual, occasionally the
individual modifies some aspects of the culture. Awareness is
shown as an emergent quality of the brain, and so awareness is
CONSCIOUSNESS
AS WE EXPERIENCE IT
Figure 3-1. Conservative view of the mind.
ultimately limited by the hardware and by particular software

programs of the brain. Consciousness is the individual's experi-
ence of awareness diffused through a tiny fraction of the struc-
ture of the brain and nervous system.
T h e radical view of the mind is diagrammed in Figure 3-2.
T w o changes have been made to incorporate the radical view.
First, awareness is shown as something that comes from outside
the structure of the physical brain, as well as something influ-
enced by the structure of the brain (thus giving consciousness)
and the cultural programming. In religious terms, this is the idea
of a soul or l i f e / m i n d principle that uses (and is used by) the
body. T h i s is a most u n p o p u l a r idea in scientific circles, but, as I
have argued elsewhere [129], there is enough scientific evidence
that consciousness is capable of temporarily existing in a way
that seems independent of the physical body to warrant giving
the idea serious consideration and doing some research on it.
T h e second change incorporated in the radical view is shown
by the two-way arrow from the physical world to the hardware
structure of the brain. T h e idea, held in many spiritual systems
Conservative and Radical Views of the Mind 3"
1/ PURE \1
AWARENESS
CULTURE,
SEMICHANGEABLE LANGUAGE,
PHYSICAL N i PERSONAL HISTORY,
REALITY f k ^ j SEMICHANGEABLE
PHYSICAL " R E A L I T Y "
CONSCIOUSNESS
AS WE EXPERIENCE IT
Figure 3-2. Radical view of the mind.
of thought that have dealt with altered states of consciousness, is

that physical reality is not a completely fixed entity, but some-
thing that may actually be shaped in some f u n d a m e n t a l manner
by the individual's beliefs about it. I am not speaking here
simply of perceptions of reality, b u t of the actual structure of
reality. Pearce [49], for example, describes an experience as a
youth where he accidentally entered an altered state of con-
sciousness in which he knew he was impervious to pain or injury.
In front of witnesses he g r o u n d out the tips of glowing cigarettes
on his cheeks, palms, and eyelids. H e felt n o pain, and there was
no sign of physical injury. T h e conventional view can easily
account for the lack of pain: by control of the structures involved
in sensing pain (nerve tracts and certain brain areas), pain
would not be perceived. But a glowing cigarette tip has a tem-
perature of about 1400° F, and his skin should have been
severely burned, despite his state of consciousness. From the
radical point of view, his beliefs about reality in the altered state
actually altered the nature of physical reality.
T o argue for or against the radical view of the mind would
take a book in itself, and this is not the one. (I recommend
Pearce's book and my Studies of Psi [131] for data on paranormal
phenomena.) I want to emphasize that the radical view of the
mind, in various forms, is often reported as an experience from
an altered state of consciousness. If we are going to study states
of consciousness adequately, we shall have to confront the radical
view, not automatically dismiss it as an illusion or a product of
inferior brain functioning, but take it as data. I would personally
prefer not to: I do not like the radical view that our belief systems
may actually alter the nature of reality even though I can com-
fortably accept parapsychological data that show that reality is
more complex than our current physical world-view believes. But
we should stay open to that view and make a decision for or
against its probability on scientific grounds, not simply because
we have been trained to believe that there is an ultimate, im-
mutable physical reality. D o n J u a n p u t it pithily: " T o believe
that the world is only as you think it is is stupid" [10].
I sympathize with the reader who finds himself rejecting the
radical view of the mind. I suggest, however, that he honestly ask
himself, "Have I rejected this view as a result of careful and
extensive study of the evidence for and against it, or because I
have been trained to d o so and rewarded by social approval for
doing so?"
4
The Nature of Ordinary

Consciousness
If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would

appear to man as it is, infinite.
For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro'
narrow chinks of his cavern.
William Blake, The Marriage of

Heaven and Hell [SI, p. 154]
T h e prejudice that our ordinary state of consciousness is natu-

ral or given is a major obstacle to understanding the nature of
the mind and states of consciousness. Our perceptions of the
world, others, and ourselves, as well as our reactions to (con-
sciousness of) them, are semiarbitrary constructions. Although
these constructions must have a minimal match to physical real-
ity to allow survival, most of our lives are spent in consensus
reality, that specially tailored and selectively perceived segment
of reality constructed from the spectrum of human potential. We
are simultaneously the beneficiaries and the victims of our cul-
ture. Seeing things according to consensus reality is good for
holding a culture together, but a major obstacle to persona] and
scientific understanding of the mind.
A culture can be seen as a group which has selected certain
human potentials as good and developed them, and rejected
others as bad. Internally this means that certain possible experi-
ences are encouraged and others suppressed to construct a
"normal" state of consciousness that is effective in and helps
define the culture's particular consensus reality. T h e process of
enculturation begins in infancy, and by middle childhood the
individual has a basic membership in consensus reality. Possibil-
ities for radical changes occur in adolescence, but even these
possibilities are partially shaped by the enculturation that has
already occurred. By adulthood the individual enjoys m a x i m u m
benefits from membership, but he is now maximally bound
within this consensus reality. A person's "simple" perception of
the world and of others is actually a complex process controlled
by many implicit factors.
One of the greatest problems in studying consciousness and
altered states of consciousness is an implicit prejudice that tends
to make us distort all sorts of information about states of con-
sciousness. W h e n you know you have a prejudice you are not
completely caught by it, for you can question whether the bias is
really useful and possibly try to change it or compensate for it.
But when a prejudice is implicit it controls you without your
knowledge and you have little chance to d o anything about it.
T h e prejudice discussed in this chapter is the belief that our
ordinary state of consciousness is somehow natural. It is a very
deep-seated and implicit prejudice. I hope in this chapter to
convince you intellectually that it is not true. Intellectual convic-
tion is a limited thing, however, and to know the relativity and
arbitrariness of your ordinary state of consciousness on a deeper
level is a much more difficult task.
Consciousness, not our sense organs, is really our "organ" of
perception, and one way to begin to see the arbitrariness of our
consciousness is to apply the assumption that ordinary conscious-
ness is somehow natural or given to a perceptual situation. T h i s
is done in Figure 4-1. A man is looking at a cat and believing
that the image of the real cat enters his eye and is, in effect,
faithfully reproduced on a screen in his mind, so that he sees the
cat as it is. T h i s naive view of perception was rejected long ago
by psychologists, who have collected immense amounts of evi-
dence to show that it is a ridiculously oversimplified, misleading,
and just plain wrong view of perception. Interestingly, these
same psychologists seldom apply their understanding of the com-
plexity of perception to their own lives, and the person in the
street does so even less.
The Nature of Ordinary Consciousness 35
Figure 4-1. Naive view of consciousness/perception.
While there are a great many simple perceptions we can very

well agree on, there are many others, especially the more impor-
tant ones in h u m a n life, on which there is really little agreement.
I would bet that almost all adult, noninstitutionalized humans
in our society would agree that this object in your h a n d is called
a book, b u t as we define more complex things the bet gets riskier.
If you go to a courtroom trial and listen to the testimony of
several eyewitnesses, all of whom presumably had basically the
same stimuli reaching their receptors, you may hear several
different versions of reality. Or, if you discuss the meaning of
current events with your acquaintances, you will find that there
are many other points of view besides your own. Most of o u r
interest is directed to complex, multifaceted social reality of this
sort.
Most of us deal with this disagreement by simply assuming
that those who disagree with us are wrong, that o u r own percep-
tions and consciousness are the standard of normality and Tight-
ness, and that other people cannot observe or think well a n d / o r
are lying, evil, or mentally ill.
A Sufi teaching story called "Bread and Jewels" [58, p. 113]
illustrates this nicely:
A king once decided to give away a part of his wealth by
disinterested charity. At the same time he wanted to watch
what happened to it. So he called a baker whom he could trust
and told him to bake two loaves of bread. In the first was to be
baked a number of jewels, and in the other, nothing but flour
and water.
These were to be given to the most and least pious people
whom the baker could find.
T h e following morning two men presented themselves at the
oven. One was dressed as a dervish and seemed most pious,
though he was in reality a mere pretender. T h e other, who
said nothing at all, reminded the baker of a man whom he did
not like, by a coincidence of facial resemblance.
T h e baker gave the bread with the jewels in it to the man in
the dervish robe, and the ordinary loaf to the second man.
As soon as he got his loaf the false dervish felt it and weighed
it in his hand. H e felt the jewels, and to him they seemed like
lumps in the loaf, unblended flour. H e weighed the bread in
his hand and the weight of the jewels made it seem to him to
be too heavy. He looked at the baker, and realized that he was
not a man to trifle with. So he turned to the second man and
said: "Why not exchange your loaf for mine? You look hungry,
and this one is larger."
T h e second man, prepared to accept whatever befell, will-
ingly exchanged loaves.
T h e king, who was watching through a crack in the bake-
house door, was surprised, but did not realize the relative
merits of the two men.
T h e false dervish got the ordinary loaf. T h e king concluded
that Fate had intervened to keep the dervish protected from
wealth. T h e really good man found the jewels and was able to
make good use of them. T h e king could not interpret this
happening.
"I did what I was told to do," said the baker.
"You cannot tamper with Fate," said the king.
"How clever I was!" said the false dervish.
T h e king, the baker, and the false dervish all had their own
views of what reality was. None of them was likely ever to correct
his impression of this particular experience.
Consciousness, then, including perception, feeling, thinking,
and acting, is a semiarbitrary construction. I emphasize semi-
arbitrary because I make the assumption, common to o u r culture,
that there are some fixed rules governing physical reality whose
violation produces inevitable consequences. If someone walks off
the edge of a tall cliff, I believe he will fall to the bottom and
probably be killed, regardless of his beliefs about cliffs, gravity,
or life a n d death. T h u s people in cultures whose belief systems
d o not, to a fair degree, match physical reality, are not likely to
survive long enough to argue with us. But once the minimal
degree of coincidence with physical reality necessary to enable
physical survival has been attained, the perception/consciousness
of an action in the complex social reality that then exists may be
very arbitrary indeed.
We must face the fact, now amply documented by the scientific
vidence presented in any elementary psychology textbook, that
perception can be highly selective. Simple images of things out
there are not clearly projected onto a mental screen, where we
simply see them as they are. T h e act of perceiving is a highly
complex, automated construction. It is a selective category sys-
tem, a decision-making system, preprogrammed with criteria of
what is important to perceive. It frequently totally ignores things
it has not been preprogrammed to believe are important.
Figure 4-2 shows a person with a set of categories programmed
> • • »
Figure 4-2. Consensus reality: fit.

in his mind, a selection of implicit criteria to recognize things
that are "important." W h e n stimulated by one of these things he
is preprogrammed to perceive, he readily responds to it. More
precisely, rather than saying he responds to it, which implies a
good deal of directness in perception, we might say that it trig-
gers a representation of itself in his mind, and he then responds
to that representation. As long as it is a good representation of
the actual stimulus object, he has a fairly accurate perception.
Since he tends to pay more attention to the representations of
things he sees than to the things themselves, however, he may
think he perceives a stimulus object clearly when actually he is
perceiving an incorrect representation.
T h i s is where perception begins to be distorted by the per-
ceiver's training and needs. Eskimos have been trained to distin-
guish seven or more kinds of snow. W e do not see these different
kinds of snow, even though they exist, for we d o not need to
make these distinctions. T o us it is all snow. O u r one internal
representation of snow is triggered indiscriminately by any kind
of actual snow. Similarly, for the paranoid person who needs to
believe that others are responsible for his troubles, representa-
tions of threatening actions are easily triggered by all sorts of
behaviors on the part of others. A detailed analysis of this is
given in Chapter 19.
W h a t happens when we are faced by the unknown, by things
we have not been trained to see? Figure 4-3, using the same kind
of analogy as the previous figure, depicts this. W e may not see the
stimulus at all: the information passes right through the m i n d
without leaving a trace. O r we may see a distorted representation
of the stimulus: some of the few features it has in common with
known stimuli trigger representations of the known features, and
that is what we perceive. W e "sophisticated" Westerners do not
believe in angels. If we actually confronted one, we might not be
able to see it correctly. T h e triangle in its hands is a familiar
figure, however, so we might perceive the triangle readily. I n fact,
we might see little but the triangle—maybe a triangle in the hands
of a sweet old lady wearing a white robe.
D o n J u a n , the Yaqui m a n of knowledge, puts it quite suc-
cinctly: "I think you are only alert about things you know"
[10].
I mentioned above the curious fact that psychologists, who
know about the complexities of perception, almost never seem to
Figure 4-3. Consensus reality: nonfit, distortion.
apply this information to their own perceptions, Even though

they study the often large and obvious distortions in other
peoples' perceptions, they maintain an image of themselves as
realistic perceivers. Some psychologists even argue that percep-
tion is actually quite realistic. But what does "realistic" mean?
W e like to believe that it means perception of the real world,
the physical world. But the world we spend most of o u r time
perceiving is not just any segment of the physical world, b u t a
highly socialized part of the physical world that has been built
into cities, automobiles, television sets. So our perception may
indeed be realistic, but it is so only with respect to a very tailored
segment of reality, a consensus reality, a small selection of things
we have agreed are "real" and "important." T h u s , within o u r
particular cultural framework, we can easily set u p what seem to
be excellent scientific experiments that will show that o u r per-
ceptions are indeed realistic, in the sense that we agree with each
other on these selected items from o u r consensus reality.
T h i s is a way of saying that o u r perceptions are highly selective
and filtered, that there is a m a j o r subsystem of consciousness,
Input-Processing discussed at length later, that filters the outside
world for us. If two people have similar filtering systems, as, for
49
example, if they are from the same culture, they can agree on
many things. But again, as Don J u a n says, "I think you are only
alert about things you know." If we want to develop a science to
study consciousness, and want that science to go beyond o u r own
cultural limitations, we must begin by recognizing the limita-
tions and arbitrariness of much of o u r ordinary state of con-
sciousness.
I have now mentioned several times that we believe certain
things simply because we were trained to believe them. Let us
now look at the training process by which o u r current "normal"
or ordinary state of consciousness came about.
Enculturation
Figure 4-4 illustrates the concept of the spectrum of human
potential. By the simple fact of being born h u m a n , having a
certain type of body and nervous system, existing in the environ-
mental conditions of the planet earth, a large (but certainly not
infinite) n u m b e r of potentials are possible for you. Because you
are born into a particular culture, existing at a particular time
and place on the surface of the planet, however, only a small
(perhaps a very small) n u m b e r of these potentials will ever be
2 3 4 S 6
Figure 4-4. Spectrum of human potentials.

realized and become actualities. W e can think of a culture 1 as a
group of people who, through various historical processes, have
come to an agreement that certain h u m a n potentials they know
of are "good," "holy," "natural," or whatever local word is used
for positively valuing them, and should be developed. T h e y are
defined as the essence of being h u m a n . O t h e r potentials, also
known to the culture, are considered "bad," "evil," " u n n a t u r a l . "
T h e culture actively inhibits the development of these potentials
in its children, not always successfully. A large n u m b e r of other
h u m a n potentials are simply not known to that particular cul-
ture, and while some of them develop owing to accidental cir-
cumstances in a particular person's life, most d o not develop for
lack of stimulation. Some of these potentials remain latent, capa-
ble of being developed if circumstances are right in later life;
others disappear completely through not being developed at an
early, critical stage.
Most of us know how to do arithmetic, speak English, write a
check, drive an automobile, and most of us know about things,
like eating with our hands, which are repellent to us (naturally
or through training?). Not many of us, though, were trained
early in childhood to enter a d-ASC where we can be, for ex-
ample, possessed by a friendly spirit that will teach us songs and
dances, as is done by some cultures. Nor were most of us trained
to gain control over o u r dreams and acquire spirit guides in those
dreams who will teach us useful things, as the Senoi of Malaysia
are [88 or 115, ch. 9], Each of us is simultaneously the benefi-
ciary of his cultural heritage and the victim and slave of his
culture's narrowness. W h a t I believe is worse is that few of us
have any realization of this situation. Like almost all people in
all cultures at all times, we think our local culture is the best and
other peoples are uncivilized or savages.
Figure 4 - 4 shows two different cultures making different selec-
tions from and inhibitions of the spectrum of h u m a n potential.
T h e r e is some overlap: all cultures, for example, develop a lan-
guage of some sort and so use those particular h u m a n potentials.
Many potentials are not selected by any culture.
W e can change the labels in Figure 4 - 4 slightly and depict
1 For simplicity here, we will ignore subcultures and conflicts within a

culture.
various possible experiences selected in either of two states of
consciousness. T h e n we have the spectrum of experiential poten-
tials, the possible kinds of experiences or modes of functioning of
h u m a n consciousness. T h e two foci of selection are two states of
consciousness. These may be two "normal" states of consciousness
in two different cultures or, as discussed later, two states of con-
sciousness that exist within a single individual. T h e fact that
certain h u m a n potentials can be tapped in state of consciousness
A that cannot be tapped in state of consciousness B is a major
factor behind the current interest in altered states of conscious-
ness.
Figure 4-4, then, indicates that in developing a " n o r m a l " state
of consciousness, a particular culture selects certain h u m a n po-
tentials and structures them into a functioning system. T h i s is
the process of enculturation. It begins in infancy, possibly even
before birth: there has been speculation, for example, that the
particular language sounds that penetrate the walls of the womb
from outside before birth may begin shaping the potentials for
sound production in the u n b o r n baby.
Figure 4-5 summarizes the main stages of the enculturation
process. T h e left-hand column represents the degree to which
physical reality shapes the person and the degree to which the
person can affect (via ordinary muscular means) physical reality.
T h e right-hand column indicates the main sources of program-
ming, the psychological influences on the person. T h e main
stages are infancy, childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and
senescence.
INFANCY
We tend to think of a newborn infant as a rather passive

creature, capable of little mental activity, whose primary job is
simple physical growth. Recent research, on the contrary, suggests
that a person's innate learning capacity may be highest of all in
infancy, for the infant has to learn to construct the consensus
reality of his culture. T h i s is an enormous job. T h e cultural
environment, for instance, begins to affect the perceptual biases
described in Chapter 8 as the Input-Processing subsystem. Most
Westerners, for example, are better at making fine discrimina-
tions between horizontal lines and vertical lines than between
lines that are slanted. At first this was thought to result from the
BIRTH
DEATH
Figure 4-5. T h e enculturation process.
innate hardware properties (racial, genetic) of the eye and ner-

vous system, but recent evidence shows that it is probably a
cultural effect. Cree Indians, who as infants live in teepees where
there are many slanted lines, can discriminate slanted lines as
acutely as horizontal and vertical ones [2]. "Civilized" West-
erners, on the other hand, grow u p in environments where verti-
cal and horizontal lines predominate. In more ways than we can
even begin to think of, the enculturation process affects percep-
tion, and ultimately consciousness, even in infancy.
Note also that the structuring/programming of o u r conscious-
ness that takes place in early infancy is probably the most persis-
tent and most implicit of all o u r programming and learning, for
at that time we have no other framework to compare it with. It is
the only thing we have, and it is closely connected with our
physical survival and o u r being loved and accepted. It gives us a
loyalty and a bond to o u r culture's particular world-view that
may be almost impossible for us to break, but again, one whose
limitations we must be aware of if we are really to understand
the workings of o u r minds. Another Sufi teaching story, " T h e
Bird and the Egg" [58, p. 130], illustrates the power of this early
programming:
Once upon a time there was a bird which did not have the
power of flight. Like a chicken, he walked about on the
ground, although he knew that some birds did fly.
It so happened that, through a combination of circumstances,
the egg of a flying bird was incubated by this flightless one.
In due time the chick came forth, still with the potentiality
for flight which he had always had, even from the time he was
in the egg.
It spoke to its foster-parent, saying: "When will I fly?" And
the landbound bird said: "Persist in your attempts to fly, just
like the others."
For he did not know how to take the fledgling for its lesson
in flying: even how to topple it from the nest so that it might
learn.
And it is curious, in a way, that the young bird did not see
this. His recognition of the situation was confused by the fact
that he felt gratitude to the bird who had hatched him.
"Without this service," he said to himself, "surely I would
still be in the egg?"
And, again, sometimes he said to himself: "Anyone who
can hatch me, surely he can teach me to fly. It must be just a
matter of time, or of my own unaided efforts, or of some great
wisdom: yes, that is it. Suddenly one day I will be carried to
the next stage by him who has brought me thus far."
CHILDHOOD
By the time an ordinary person reaches childhood, he has

attained a basic membership in the consensus reality of his cul-
ture. A normal child has a pretty good idea of the dos and don'ts
of his culture and behaves in a generally acceptable fashion.
Many of the potentials present at the time of his birth are gone
by now, but consensus reality has been formed from the few that
have been cultivated.
One of the main ways in which consciousness is shaped to fit
consensus reality is through the medium of language. T h e word
for an object focuses a child's perception onto a specific thing
considered important by the culture. Social approval for this
kind of behavior gives words great power. As a child gradually
grows in his mastery of language, the language structure a n d its
effect on consciousness grow at an exponential rate. T h e tyranny
of words is one of the most difficult things from which we must
try to free ourselves.
A child's basic membership in consensus reality is not com-
plete. T h e m i n d of the child can still do many strange (by adult
standards) things. As Pearce [49, p. 56] comments:
T h e child's m i n d is autistic, a ridi texture of free synthesis,

hallucinatory and unlimited. H i s m i n d can skip over syllogisms
with ease, in a non-logical, dream-sequence kind of "knight's-
move" continuum. H e nevertheless shows a strong desire to
participate in a world of others. Eventually his willingness for
self-modification, necessary to win rapport with his world, is
stronger than his desire for autonomy. Were it not, civilization
w o u l d not be possible. T h a t we succeed in m o u l d i n g him to
respond to our criteria shows the innate drive for c o m m u n i o n
and the flexibility of a young mind. It doesn't prove an essen-
tial and sanctified rightness of our o w n constructs.
Maturity, or becoming reality adjusted, restricts and dimin-
ishes that "knight's-move" thinking, and tends to make pawns
of us in the process. T h e kind of adult logic that results is
dependent o n the kinds of demands made o n the young m i n d
by parents a n d society.
It is precisely this kind of childish strangeness that both frus-

trates us adults when we try to deal with children and excites our
envy when we realize children have a certain freedom we do not
have.
ADOLESCENCE
Adolescence is a different stage from childhood, not just a

continuation of it, because the influx of sexual energies at
puberty allows considerable change in the ordinary consciousness
of the child. For most adolescents this is a time of turmoil (at
least i n our culture) as they strive to adjust to bodily changes
and to learn to satisfy their sexual needs within the mores of the
culture.
For many there is a continuity with childhood, and after a
transitional period of being difficult, the adolescent settles into a
pattern of being a grown-up version of the child he was. For
others a conversion of some sort occurs: the sexual and other
energies unleashed at puberty become sublimated into a belief
system that may be radically different from what they had as
children. If this is traumatic or sudden, or if the belief system is
radically at odds with that of the parents, we notice this conver-
sion. If the sublimation of the energies is into a socially accepted
pattern, we are not as likely to perceive it.
Conversion is a powerful psychological process that we d o not
understand well. It bears some similarity to the concept of a
discrete state of consciousness (introduced later) but more basi-
cally refers to a psychological process of focusing, of giving great
energy to selected structures, that may take place in any state of
consciousness.
I do not believe that the conversion process is completely free
to go wherever it will. By the time a person has reached adoles-
cence (or later, if conversion takes place later), many h u m a n
potentials he possessed at birth are, for lack of stimulation,
simply no longer available. Of the latent potentials that still
could be used, cultural selection and structuring have already
made some more likely than others to be utilized in a conversion.
T h u s even the rebels in a society are in many ways not free: the
direction that rebellion takes has already been strongly shaped
by enculturation processes.
T h e adolescent is very much a member of the consensus reality
of his culture: his ordinary state of consciousness is well adapted
to fit into it, and he has a fair degree of control over his physical
environment. For most "ordinary" adolescents, there are far
fewer possibilities for unusual functions of consciousness than
there were in childhood.
ADULTHOOD
Adults are full-fledged members of the consensus reality: they

both maintain it through their interaction with their peers and
are shaped by it and by parts of it. Adults are, as Don J u a n
taught, always talking to themselves about their ordinary things,
keeping u p a constant pattern of information flow in their minds
along familiar routes. T h i s strengthens and maintains their
membership in the consensus reality and their use of their ordi-
nary state of consciousness as a means for dealing with consensus
reality.
Because of the power over physical reality given them by their
consensus reality state of consciousness, adults are the most free;
yet, because they are the most thoroughly indoctrinated in con-
sensus reality, they are the most b o u n d . T h e y receive many
rewards for participating in the consensus reality in an accept-
able way, and they have an enormous n u m b e r of external and
internalized prohibitions that keep them from thinking and
experiencing in ways not approved by the consensus reality. T h e
Sufi teaching story, "Bayazid and the Selfish M a n " [58, p. *180],
shows how difficult it is for an adult to free himself from the power
of ordinary consciousness and consensus reality, even when he be-
lieves he wants to:
O n e day a m a n reproached Bayazid, the great mystic of the

ninth century, saying that he had fasted and prayed and so
o n for thirty years and not f o u n d the joy which Bayazid de-
scribed. Bayazid told him that he might c o n t i n u e for three
hundred years and still not find it.
" H o w is that?" asked the would-be illuminate.
"Because your vanity is a barrier to you."
"Tell me the remedy."
" T h e remedy is o n e which you cannot take."
"Tell me, nevertheless."
Bayazid said: "You must go to the barber and have your
(respectable) beard shaved. R e m o v e all your clothes and put a
girdle around yourself. Fill a nosebag with walnuts and suspend
it from your neck. G o to the marketplace and call out: 'A
walnut will I give to any boy w h o will strike me o n the back of
the neck.' T h e n continue o n to the justices' session so that they
may see you."
"But I cannot do that; please tell m e something else that
would do as well."
"This is the first move, and the only one," said Bayazid,
"but I had already told you that you would not do it; so you
cannot be cured."
I stress the view that we are prisoners of our ordinary state of

consciousness, victims of o u r consensus reality, because it is neces-
sary to become aware of this if we are to have any hope of
transcending it, of developing a science of the mind that is not
culturally limited. Enormous benefits result from sharing in our
consensus reality, but these benefits must not blind us to the
limits of this reality.
SENESCENCE
T h e final stage in a person's life comes when he is too old to

participate actively in the affairs of his culture. His mind may be
so rigid by this time that it can d o little b u t rerun the programs
of consensus reality while his abilities diminish. If he is aware of
other possibilities, he may find old age a way of freeing himself
from cultural pressures and begin to explore his mind i n ' a new
way. T h e r e are cultural traditions, in India, for example, where
a person who has fulfilled his main tasks in life is expected to
devote his remaining years to exploring his own mind and
searching out spiritual values. T h i s is difficult to think about in
the context of our own culture, however, for we have so over-
valued youth and the active mode of life that we define older
people as useless, a defining action that often affects those older
people so that they believe it.
The Complexity of Consciousness
T h i s chapter opened with a drawing showing the naivety of

the view that perception and consciousness are means of grasping
physical reality. It ends with a drawing (Figure 4-6) that shows
a truer and more complex view of perception (and, to some
extent, of the consciousness behind it). In the center of the
drawing are depicted various stimuli from others and from the
physical world impinging o n the individual. These stimuli pro-
MIND
"O—0(k
On
°o%
(IMPLICIT) IIMPLICITI
INTERACTIONS INTERACTIONS
STIMULI
"Si £t *
FROM OTHERS,
REFLEXES SELF.
INSTINCTS AND WORLD
BODY
r - V V WJ , EMOTION
a> p
X>
\Po INTERACTIONS
Figure 4-6. T h e complexity of perception.
duce effects that can be classified as mental, emotional, and

bodily. T h e innermost reaction circle represents clearly conscious
experiences. At this moment, as I write, I hear a pneumatic drill
being used to break u p the pavement outside my window. 1
mentally speculate about the air pressure used to operate such an
interesting tool but note that it is distracting me; I emotionally
dislike the disturbance of my writing; the muscles of my face and
ears tighten a little, as if that will reduce the impact of the
noxious sound on me.
While the three-part classification of effects provides a simplifi-
cation, in reality the mental, emotional, and bodily responses to
stimuli interact at both conscious and less than conscious levels.
My mind notices the tension around my ear and interprets that
as something wrong, which, as a minor emotional threat, aggra-
vates the noxiousness of the sound, etc.
Immediately behind fully conscious experiences are easily ex-
perienceable phenomena, represented by the second circle. T h e
mental effect of these phenomena relates to the individual's
explicit belief system: I believe that noise is undesirable, but I
am fascinated by the workings of machines. T h e i r emotional
effect relates to the things he readily knows he likes or dislikes:
loud noises generally bother me and make me feel intruded
upon. T h e i r bodily effect relates to consciously usable skills and
movements: I can relax my facial muscles. These phenomena
affect the individual at a level that is not in the focus of con-
sciousness, but that can be easily made conscious by paying
attention.
These two levels are themselves affected and determined by a
more implicit level of functioning, implicit in that the indi-
vidual cannot identify its content simply by wanting to and
paying attention. Where did I get the idea that noise is an
intrusion? Why am I fascinated by the workings of machines? I
do not know. I might be able to find out by prolonged psycho-
logical exploration, but the information is not easily available,
even though these things affect me. Why d o I have an immediate
emotional dislike of noise? Is there some unconscious reaction
behind it? How have I come to maintain certain muscle sets in
my face that are affected by stress in certain ways?
T h e outer circle in Figure 4-6 represents basic learnings, con-
ditionings, motor patterns, instincts, reflexes, language cate-
gories, and the like, which are so implicit the individual can
hardly recognize their existence. T h i s is the level of the hardware,
the biological givens, and the basic enculturation processes. T h e
distance of these things from consciousness makes it extremely
difficult for him to discover and compensate for their controlling
influences: they are, in many ways, the basis of himself.
If the stimulus in the middle of Figure 4-6 is a cat, this whole
complex machine functions, a machine designed by our culture.
W e don't "just" see the catl O u r ordinary state of consciousness
is a very complex construction indeed, yet Figure 4 - 6 hardly goes
into details at all. So much for the naturalness of o u r ordinary
state of consciousness.
5-
Discrete States of Consciousness

<HWKHKH><HWXHWHKHXHWW^
T h e terms state of consciousness and altered state of conscious-

ness have become very popular. As a consequence of populariza-
tion, however, the terms are frequently used in such a loose
fashion as to mean almost nothing in particular. Many people
now use the phrase state of consciousness, for example, to mean
simply whatever is on one's mind. So if I pick up a water tumbler
and look at it, I am in "water tumbler state of consciousness,"
and if I now touch my typewriter, I am in "typewriter state of
consciousness." T h e n an altered state of consciousness simply
means that what one is thinking about or experiencing now is
different from what it was a moment ago.
T o rescue the concepts of state of consciousness and altered
state of consciousness for more precise scientific use, I introduce
the terms and abbreviations discrete state of consciousness (d-
SoC) and discrete altered state of consciousness (d-ASC). I dis-
cuss in Chapter 2 the basic theoretical concepts for defining these
crucial terms. Here, I first describe certain kinds of experiential
data that led to the concepts of discrete states and then go on to a
formal definition of d-SoC and d-ASC.
Mapping Experience
Suppose that an individual's experience (and/or behavior
a n d / o r physiology) can be adequately described at any given
moment if we know all the important dimensions along which
experience varies and can assess the exact point along each di-
mension that an individual occupies or experiences at a given
moment. Each dimension may be the level of functioning of a
psychological structure or process. W e presume that we have a
multidimensional m a p of psychological space and that by know-
ing exactly where the individual is in that psychological space we
have adequately described his experiential reality for that given
time. T h i s is a generally accepted theoretical idea, but it is very
difficult to apply in practice because many psychological dimen-
sions may be important for understanding an individual's ex-
perience at any given moment. W e may be able to assess only a
small n u m b e r of them, a n d / o r an individual's position on some
of these dimensions may change even as we are assessing the.
value of others. Nevertheless, the theory is an ideal to be worked
toward, and we can assume for purposes of discussion that we can
adequately m a p experience.
T o simplify further, let us assume that what is important
about an individual's experiences can be m a p p e d on only two
dimensions. W e can thus draw a graph, like Figure 5-1. Each
small circle represents an observation at a single point in time of
where a particular individual is in this two-dimensional psycho-
logical space. In this example, we have taken a total of twenty-
two binary measures at various times.
T h e first thing that strikes us about this individual is that his
experiences seem to fall in three distinct clusters and that there
are large gaps between these three distinct clusters. W i t h i n each
cluster this individual shows a certain amount of variability, b u t
he has not had any experiences at all at points outside the
defined clusters. T h i s kind of clustering in the plot of an indi-
vidual's locations at various times in experiential space is what I
mean by discrete states of consciousness. Put another way, it
means that you can be in a certain region of experiential space
and show some degree of movement or variation within that
space, b u t to transit out of that space you have to cross a "forbid-
den zone" 1 where you cannot function a n d / o r cannot have ex-
periences a n d / o r cannot be conscious of having experiences; then
you find yourself in a discretely different experiential space. It is
l Forbidden zone applies under circumstances of a stable personality struc-

ture, and should not be taken too absolutely: personality sometimes changes,
and a person sometimes finds himself in an extraordinary situation.
Discrete States of Consciousness 53
HIGH
o o o ^
O o OJ' / O o° o °o_
\°o G ° ' / fo O° / /
'» °
STATE 2
(STAGE t - REM DREAMING)
STATE 3
(LUCID DREAMING)
• HIGH
DIMENSION 2 (RATIONALITY)
\
o \
STATE 1
(OROINARY CONSCIOUSNESS)
LOW
Figure 5-1. Mapping experiential space at various times.
the q u a n t u m principle of physics applied to psychology (see

Chapter 18). You can be either here or there, b u t not in
between.
T h e r e are transitional periods between some d-SoCs; they are
dealt with in more detail later. For now, being in a d-SoC means
that you are in one of the three distinct regions of psychological
space shown in Figure 5-1.
Now let us concretize this example. Let us call the vertical
dimension ability to image or hallucinate, varying from a low of
imagining something outside yourself b u t with nothing corre-
sponding in intensity to a sensory perception, to a high of imag-
ining something with all the qualities of reality, of actual sensory
perception. Let us call the horizontal dimension ability to be
rational, to think in accordance with the rules of some logic. W e
are not now concerned with the cultural arbitrariness of logic,
but simply take it as a given set of rules. T h i s dimension varies
from a low of making many mistakes in the application of this
82
logic, as on days when you feel rather stupid and have a hard
time expressing yourself, to a high of following the rules of the
logic perfectly, when you feel sharp and your mind works like a.
precision computer.
W e can assign names of known d-SoCs to the three clusters of
data points on the graph. Ordinary consciousness (for our cul-
ture) is shown in the lower right-hand corner. It is characterized
by a high degree of rationality and a relatively low degree of
imaging ability. W e can usually think without making many
mistakes in logic, and our imaginings usually contain mild sensory
qualities, but they are far less intense than sensory perceptions.
Notice again that there is variability within the state we call or-
dinary consciousness. Logic may be more or less accurate, ability
to image may vary somewhat, but this all stays in a range that we
recognize as ordinary, habitual, or normal.
At the opposite extreme, we have all experienced a region of
psychological space where rationality is usually very low indeed,
while ability to image is quite high. T h i s is ordinary nocturnal
dreaming, where we create (image) the entire dream world. It
seems sensorily real. Yet we often take considerable liberties with
rationality.
T h e third cluster of data points defines a particularly interest-
ing d-SoC, lucid dreaming. T h i s is the special kind of dream
named by the Dutch physician Frederick Van Eeden [88 or 115,
ch. 8], in which you feel as if you have awakened in terms of
mental functioning within the dream world: you feel as rational
and in control of your mental state as in your ordinary d-SoC,
b u t you are still experientially located within the dream world.
Here both range of rationality and range of ability to image are
at a very high level.
Figure 5 - 1 deliberately depicts rationality in ordinary noc-
turnal dreaming as lower than rationality in the ordinary d-SoC.
But some nocturnal dreams seem very rational for prolonged
periods, not only at the time b u t by retrospectively applied
waking state standards. So the cluster shown for nocturnal
dreaming should perhaps be oval and extend into the u p p e r
right region of the graph, overlapping with the lucid dreaming
cluster. T h i s would have blurred the argument about distinct
regions of experiential space, so the graph was not drawn that
way. T h e point is not that there is never any overlap in function-
ing for a particular psychological dimension between two d-SoCs
(to the contrary, all the ones we know much about do share
many features in c o m m o n ) , but that a complete multidimen-
sional m a p p i n g of the important dimensions of experiential
space shows this distinct clustering. While a two-dimensional plot
may show apparent identity or overlap between two d-SoCs, a
three-dimensional or AT-dimensional m a p would show their dis-
creteness. T h i s is important, for d-SoCs are not just quantitative
variations on one or more continua (as Figure 5-1 implies), but
qualitative, pattern-changing, system-functioning differences.
A d-SoC, then, refers to a particular region of experiential
space, as shown in Figure 5-1, and adding the descriptive adjec-
tive altered simply means that with respect to some state of
consciousness (usually the ordinary state) as a baseline, we have
made the q u a n t u m j u m p to another region of experiential space,
the d-ASC. 2 T h e q u a n t u m j u m p may be both quantitative, in
the sense that structures function at higher or lower levels of
intensity, and qualitative, in the sense that structures in the
baseline state may cease to function, previously latent structures
may begin to function, and the system pattern may change. T o
use a computer analogy, going from one d-SoC to a d-ASC is like
p u t t i n g a radically different program into the computer, the
mind. T h e graphic presentation of Figure 5-1 cannot express
qualitative changes, b u t they are at least as important or more
important than the quantitative changes.
Figures 5-2 and 5 - 3 illustrate the qualitative pattern differ-
ence between two d-SoCs. Various psychological structures are
shown connected by information and energy flows into a pattern
in different ways. T h e latent pattern, the discrete altered state of
consciousness with respect to the other, is shown in lighter lines
on each figure. T h e two states share some structures/functions in
common, yet, their organizations are distinctly different.
Figures 5-2 and 5 - 3 express what William James [30, p. 298]
meant when he wrote:
Our ordinary waking consciousness . . . is but one special

type of consciousness, whilst all about it, parted from it by the
2 I want to emphasize the purely descriptive nature of the adjective altered.
It means simply "basically different" or "importantly different," without
implying that the d-ASC is better or worse than any other d-SoC. The first
business of science is accurate description. Valuation cannot be avoided, but
must not be confused with description. This is discussed at greater length in
Chapter 17.
82States of Consciousness
Figure 5-2. Representation of a d-SoC as a pattern of energy/aware-

ness flow interrelating various human potentials. Lighter lines show a
possible d-ASC pattern.
filmiest of screens, there lie potential forms of consciousness

entirely different. We may go through life without suspecting
their existence; but apply the requisite stimulus, and at a touch
they are all there in all their completeness, definite types of
mentality which probably somewhere have their field of ap-
plication and adaptation. No account of the universe in its
totality can be final which leaves these other forms of con-
sciousness quite disregarded. How to regard them is the ques-
tion—for they are so discontinuous with ordinary consciousness.
Figure 5-3. Representation of a d-ASC as a reorganization of in-

formation and enegy flow pattern and an altered selection of potentials.
The b-SoC is shown in lighter lines.
It is important to stress that the pattern differences are the

essential defining element of different d-SoCs. Particular psycho-
logical functions may be identical for several d-SoCs, but the
overall system functioning is quite different. People still speak
English whether they are in their ordinary waking state, d r u n k
with alcohol, stoned on marijuana, or dreaming; yet, we would
hardly call these states identical because the same language is
spoken in all.
Definition of a Discrete State of Consciousness

We can define a d-SoC for a given individual as a u n i q u e
configuration or system of psychological structures or subsystems.
T h e structures vary in the way they process information, or cope,
or affect experiences within varying environments. T h e struc-
tures operative within a d-SoC make u p a system where the
operation of the parts, the psychological structures, interact with
each other and stabilize each other's functioning by means of
feedback control, so that the system, the d-SoC, maintains its
overall pattern of functioning in spite of changes in the environ-
ment. T h u s , the individual parts of the system may vary, b u t the
overall, general configuration of the system remains recognizably
the same.
T o understand a d-SoC, we must grasp the n a t u r e of the parts,
the psychological structures/subsystems that compose it, and we
must take into account the gestalt properties that arise from the
overall system—properties that are not an obvious result of the
functioning of the parts. For example, the parts of a car laid out
singly on a bench tell me only a little about the nature of the
functioning system we call an automobile. Similarly, a list of an
individual's traits and skills may tell me little about the pattern
that emerges from their organization into a personality, into a
"normal" state of consciousness. But to understand adequately
either the car or the individual, I have to study the whole
functioning system itself. 3
T o illustrate this, let us go back to the question I asked at the
beginning of Chapter 2 about whether you are dreaming you are
reading this book rather than actually reading it in your ordi-
nary d-SoC. T o conclude that what was h a p p e n i n g was real (I
hope you concluded that!) you may have looked at the function-
ing of your component structures (my reasoning seems sound,
sensory qualities are in the usual range, body image seems right)
and decided that since these component structures were operat-
8 A practical limitation on our understanding of d-SoCs is that they must

have some reasonable stability over time: we could imagine d-SoCs that would
hold a particular pattern for only a second, but this time would be too short
for us to make many useful observations. All the d-SoCs about which we have
some knowledge last for periods ranging from minutes to hours to a lifetime.
ing in the range you associate with your ordinary d-SoC, that
was the condition you were in. Or you may have simply felt the
gestalt pattern of your functioning, without bothering to check
component functions, and instantly recognized it as your ordi-
nary pattern. Either way, you scanned data on the functioning of
yourself as a system and categorized the system's mode of func-
tioning as its ordinary one.
Discreteness of States of Consciousness

Let me make a few further points about the discreteness of
different states of consciousness, the q u a n t u m gap between them.
First, the concept of d-SoCs, in its commonsense form, did not
come from the kind of precise m a p p i n g along psychological
dimensions that is sketched in Figure 5-1. Rather, its immediate
experiential basis is usually gestalt pattern recognition, the feel-
ing that "this condition of my m i n d feels radically different from
some other condition, rather than just an extension of it." T h e
experiential m a p p i n g is a more precise way of saying this.
Second, for most of the d-SoCs we know something about, there
has been little or no m a p p i n g of the transition from the baseline
state of consciousness (b-SoC) to the altered state. Little has
been done, for example, in examining the process by which a
person passes from an ordinary d-SoC into the hypnotic state, 4
although for most subjects the distinction between the well-
developed hypnotic state and their ordinary state is marked.
Similarly, when a person begins to smoke marijuana, there is a
period d u r i n g which he is in an ordinary d-SoC and smoking
m a r i j u a n a ; only later is he clearly stoned, in the d-ASC we call
m a r i j u a n a intoxication. Joseph Fridgen and I carried out a pre-
liminary survey asking experienced m a r i j u a n a users about the
transition from one state to the other. W e f o u n d that users
almost never bothered to look at the transition: they were either
in a hurry to enter the intoxicated state or in a social situation
that did not encourage them to observe what was going on in
their minds. Similarly, Berke and H e r n t o n [6] reported that the
"buzz" that seems to mark this transitional period is easily over-
looked by m a r i j u a n a users.
So, in general for d-SoCs, we do not know the size and exact
* Some preliminary psychoanalytic investigations by Gill and Brenman are

of interest here [19].
82
nature of the q u a n t u m j u m p , or indeed, whether it is possible to
effect a continuous transition between two regions of experiential
space, thus making them extremes of one state of consciousness
rather than two discrete states. T h e important factor of indi-
vidual differences is discussed in Chapter 9.
Because the science of consciousness is in its infancy, I am
forced to mention too frequently those things we do not know.
Let me balance that a little by describing a study that has
m a p p e d the transition between two d-SoCs—ordinary waking
consciousness and stage 2 sleep. Vogel et al [143], using electro-
encephalographic (EEG) indices of the transition from full
awakeness (alpha EEG pattern with occasional rapid eye move-
ment, REMs) to full sleep (stage 2 EEG, n o eye movements),
awoke subjects at various points in the transition process, asked
for reports of mental activity just prior to awakening, and asked
routine questions about the degree of contact with the environ-
ment the subjects felt they had just before awakening. T h e y
classified this experiential data into three ego states. In the intact
ego .state, the content of experience was plausible, fitted con-
sensus reality well, and there was little or no feeling of loss of
reality contact. In the destructuralized ego state, content was
bizarre and reality contact was impaired or lost. In the restruc-
turalized ego state, contact with reality was lost but the content
was plausible by consensus reality standards.
Figure 5-4 (reprinted from G. Vogel, D. Foulkes, and H.
Trosman, Arch. Gen. Psychiat., 1966, 14, 238-248) shows the
frequency of these three ego states or states of consciousness with
respect to psychophysiological criteria. T h e psychophysiological
criteria are arranged on the horizontal axis in the order in which
transition into sleep ordinarily takes place. You can see that the
intact ego state is associated with alpha and R E M or alpha and
SEM (slow eye movement), the destructuralized ego state mainly
with stage 1 EEG, and the restructuralized ego state mainly with
stage 2 EEG. But there are exceptions in each case. Indeed, a
finer analysis of the data shows that the psychological sequence of
intact ego-»destructuralized ego—» restructuralized ego almost
always holds in the experiential reports. It is a more solid finding
than the association of these ego states with particular physio-
logical stages. Some subjects start the intact-»destructuralized-»
restructuralized sequence earlier in the EEG sequence than
others. T h i s is a timely reminder that the results of equating
1 1 1 1
<
o
13
<
U
o 30
tfi
I-
cn
o
O
O 1 1
ALPHA REM ALPHA SEM STAGE 2
EEG/EOG STAGE
Figure 5-4. Ego states during sleep onset.
psychological states with physiological indicators can be fal-

lacious. But the main thing to note here is the orderliness of the
transition sequence from one discrete state to another. T h i s kind
of measurement is crude compared with what we need to know,
but it is a good start.
T h e intact ego state and the restructuralized ego state seem to
correspond to bounded regions of experiential space, d-SoCs, b u t
it is not clear whether the destructuralized ego state represents a
d-SoC or merely a period of unstable transition between the b-
SoC of the intact state (ordinary consciousness) and the d-ASC
of the restructuralized state (a sleep state) , 5 W e need more data
about the condition they have labeled destructuralized before we
can decide whether it meets o u r criteria for a d-SoC. T h e later
discussions of induction of a d-ASC, transitional phenomena, and
the observation of internal states clarify the question we are
considering here.
B We should not equate the restructuralized ego state with ordinary noc-
turnal dreaming, as this state is usually associated with stage 1 EEG and REMs
later during the night.
82
W e have now defined a d-SoC for a given individual as a
u n i q u e configuration or system of psychological structures or
subsystems, a configuration that maintains its integrity or iden-
tity as a recognizable system in spite of variations in input from
the environment and in spite of various (small) changes in the
subsystems. T h e system, the d-SoC, maintains its identity because
various stabilization processes modify subsystem variations so
that they do not destroy the integrity of the system. These stabi-
lization processes are discussed in Chapter 6.
In closing this chapter, I want to add a warning about the
finality of the discreteness of any particular d-SoC. In Chapter 2 I
stated that the particular n a t u r e of the basic structures underly-
ing the h u m a n m i n d limits their possible interactions and so
forms the basis of d-SoCs. Note carefully, however, that many of
the structures we deal with in our consciousness, as constructed
in our personal growth, are not ultimate structures b u t com-
p o u n d ones peculiar to our culture, personality, and belief
system. Later chapters, particularly Chapter 9 on individual
differences, clarify this. Meanwhile I want to emphasize the prag-
matic usefulness of a maxim of J o h n Lilly's [35] as a guide to
personal and scientific work in this area: " I n the province of the
mind, what one believes to be true either is true or becomes true
within certain limits, to be f o u n d experientially and experi-
mentally. These limits are beliefs to be transcended." Lilly's
work comparing the m i n d to a h u m a n biocomputer [34], as well
as his autobiographical accounts of his explorations in conscious-
ness [35], are essential reading in this area.
6.
Stabilization of a
State of Consciousness
T h e basic function of a d-SoC is to cope successfully with an

(external) environment. A d-SoC is a tool that senses and inter-
prets what the world is and plans and executes strategies for
dealing with that changing world. A good tool should not break
easily when applied to the job: the system of structures and
energies that constitutes a state of consciousness should maintain
its integrity in coping with the changing world it was designed
for. It would be most unadaptive, for example, if, while you were
driving on the freeway, your d-SoC suddenly converted to a d-
ASC of great ecstasy that totally shut down your senses! A d-SoC
is a dynamic system: its components change all the time, but the
overall pattern/organization that is its nature is maintained
because the possible interactions between the component struc-
tures and subsystems are controlled and limited by various stabi-
lization processes.
This chapter describes four major ways of stabilizing a system
that constitutes a d-SoC. They are analogous to the ways people
control one another. If you want someone to be a good citizen
(1) you keep him busy with the activities that constitute being a
good citizen, so he has no time or energy for anything else; (2)
you reward him for carrying out these activities; (3) you punish
him if he engages in undesirable activities; and (4) you try to
limit his opportunities for engaging in undesirable activities.
T h e following discussion applies to stabilizing a d-SoC as a
82
whole, b u t it could also be applied to the stabilization of the
individual structures/subsystems within a d-SoC.
Loading Stabilization
T h e first type of stabilization is ballasting or loading, to use an

electrical analogy. I n electrical ballasting, you impose a large
electrical load on a circuit that draws on the power resources
sufficiently so that very high voltages cannot occur; the power
supply lacks the capacity to produce them, given the load. Load-
ing in general refers to any activity that draws a large proportion
of the energy of the system so that the system does not have excess
free energy available. A load may also store energy, giving the
system inertia that prevents a sudden slowdown or speedup.
Psychologically, loading means keeping a person's conscious-
ness busy with desired types of activities so that too little (atten-
tion/awareness) energy is left over to allow disruption of the
system's operation. As Don J u a n told Carlos Castaneda [10],
people's ordinary, repeated, day-to-day activities keep their
energies so b o u n d within a certain pattern that they do not
become aware of nonordinary realities.
For example, right now, in your ordinary d-SoC, a n u m b e r of
things act as loading stabilization processes. T h e stable physical
world you constantly deal with, the dependable relationships in
it, give you a pattern of input that constantly stimulates you in
expected patterns, in ways you are used to. If you push your
h a n d against your chair, the chair feels solid, just as it always has
felt. If you push it again, it still feels solid, and so on. You can
depend on the lawfulness of the spectrum of experience we call
physical reality. But, if the next time you pushed on the chair,
your hand passed through it, you would be surprised or alarmed.
You would begin to suspect that this was not your ordinary d-
SoC or find it difficult to maintain your composure, your ordi-
nary d-SoC.
Your body (and your internalized body image) is another
source of stabilization by loading. Every m o r n i n g when you wake
u p you have sensations from one head, two arms, and two legs.
Although the exact relationships of the parts of your body to one
another change as do your body's internal feelings, the changes
are within a well-learned range. If you suddenly felt half your
Stabilization of a State of Consciousness 65
body starting to disappear, you would question whether you were
in your ordinary d-SoC.
Body movement also supplies a type of loading. If you move
your body, it has a certain feel to it. T h e kinesthetic feedback
information on the relation of parts of your body and on muscle
tensions as you move is within an anticipated range. If your arm
suddenly felt three times as heavy as usual when you lifted it,
this again would disrupt your ordinary d-SoC. Conversely, if you
felt sleepy but did not want to enter the d-ASC of sleep, getting
u p and moving around would help you stay awake.
A final example of loading concerns the thinking process. You
have a constant internal thinking process going on, constant
internal chatter, which runs through familiar and habitual asso-
ciative pathways and keeps you within your ordinary d-SoC. You
think the kinds of things that please you; you feel clever as a
result of thinking them; feeling clever makes you relax; feeling
relaxed makes you feel good; feeling good reminds you that you
are clever; and so on. T h i s constant thinking, thinking, thinking
loads your system and is extremely important in maintaining
your ordinary b-SoC.
T h e importance of this constant loading of consciousness by
thinking in maintaining and stabilizing o u r ordinary d-SoC can-
not be overestimated. A H i n d u metaphor for the ordinary d-SoC
compares it to a drunken, horny monkey, carousing madly
through the treetops, driven by its desires for sex, food, pleasure.
T h e linkages between thought processes and emotional processes
addict us to clever thoughts and make it h a r d to slow or stop the
thinking process. Don J u a n instructed Castaneda [10] to "not
do," cease the constant thinking and doing that maintain ordi-
nary consciousness, and Casteneda f o u n d this extraordinarily
difficult to accomplish. T h i s experience has been shared by
innumerable practitioners of meditation who have found how
difficult it is to escape from the incessant chatter of their minds.
Negative Feedback Stabilization
T h e second type of stabilization is negative feedback. Particu-

lar structures or subsystems sense when the rate or quality of
operation of other subsystems goes beyond certain preset limits,
and they then begin a correction process. T h i s correction process
82
may be conscious, as for example, anxiety resulting when your
thoughts stray into certain areas you consider taboo. T h e anxiety
then functions to restabilize subsystems within the acceptable
range.
You may not be conscious of a particular feedback correction
process, however. You may be lost in thought, for example, and
suddenly find yourself very alert and listening, although not
knowing why. A sound that indicated a potentially threatening
event may have occurred very briefly, and while not intense
enough to be consciously perceived, it was sufficient to activate a
monitoring structure that then sent out correction signals to
bring the system of consciousness back within optimal (for deal-
ing with the threat) limits. T h i s kind of negative feedback stabil-
ization essentially measures when a subsystem's or structure's
operation is going beyond acceptable limits and initiates an act
of correction, reduces the deviation.
Positive Feedback Stabilization
T h e third stabilization process, positive feedback, consists of

structures or subsystems that detect when acceptable activity is
going o n and then stimulate the emotional reward systems
(making us feel good when we do a particular activity) or
otherwise strengthen the desired activity. W e may or may not be
particularly conscious of feeling good, b u t we like to maintain
and repeat the rewarded activity. During the formation of our
ordinary d-SoC d u r i n g childhood, we are greatly rewarded by our
parents, peers, and teachers for doing various socially approved
things, and because most of o u r socially approved actions are
initiated by socially approved thoughts and feelings, we then
internalize this reward system and feel good simply by engaging
in the thoughts or actions that were rewarded earlier.
Let us illustrate how negative and positive feedback stabiliza-
tion can work. Suppose you are driving home late at night and
are rather sleepy. Driving carefully was an active program in
your ordinary d-SoC, b u t now, because of fatigue, your m i n d is
drifting toward a hypnagogic state even though you are manag-
ing to hold your eyes open. Hypnagogic thoughts are very inter-
esting and your mind starts pursuing them further. Because the
integrity of your ordinary d-SoC is now beginning to be dis-
rupted, you do not make an appropriate correction as the car
begins to drift over toward the shoulder of the road. You r u n off
the shoulder, narrowly avoiding an accident, and this jars you
back to full wakefulness. Learning occurs; a structure is formed.
Sometime later the same circumstances occur again, b u t this time
the new structure notes two facts—that your thoughts are becom-
ing interesting in that hypnagogic way and that you are driv-
ing. Via the Emotion subsystem, the new structure sends a feeling
of anxiety or alarm through you that immediately activates vari-
ous subsystems toward the "physical world survival priority"
mode of operating, and so reinstates full consciousness. T h i s is
negative feedback stabilization. T h e n you feel clever at not suc-
cumbing to the hypnagogic state. It shows you are a good driver;
all sorts of authorities would approve: this constitutes positive
feedback for keeping your consciousness within the wakefulness
pattern.
T h u s , a state of consciousness learns that certain processes
indicate that part of its system is going beyond a safe limit of
functioning (the error information) and then does something to
restore that ordinary range of functioning (feedback control).
You may or may not directly experience the feedback process.
Note that the terms positive feedback and negative feedback,
as used here, do not necessarily refer to consciously experienced
good or bad feelings, although such feelings may be experienced
and be part of the correction process. Negative feedback refers to
a correction process initiated when a structure or system starts to
go or has gone beyond acceptable limits, and designed to de-
crease undesirable deviation. Positive feedback refers to an active
reward process that occurs when a structure or subsystem is
functioning within acceptable limits and that strengthens func-
tioning within those limits.
Limiting Stabilization
A fourth way of stabilizing a d-SoC, limiting stabilization,

consists of interfering with the ability of some subsystems or
structures to function in a way that might destabilize the on-
going state of consciousness. It limits the range of possible func-
tioning of certain subsystems.
An example of limiting stabilization is one effect of tranquiliz-
ing drugs in blunting emotional responses of any sort, limiting
the ability of certain subsystems to produce strong emotions.
82
Since strong emotions can be important disrupting forces in
destabilizing an ongoing state of consciousness, this limiting
stabilizes the ongoing state. Sufficient limiting of crucial subsys-
tems would not only stabilize any d-SoC (although at some cost in
responsiveness of that d-SoC in coping with the e n v i r o n m e n t ) ,
but would prevent transit into a d-ASC that required changes in
the limited subsystems either for inducing the d-ASC or for
stabilizing the d-ASC if it were attained.
Loading stabilization can, in some instances, be a limiting
stabilization, but the two types of stabilization are not identical.
Limiting directly affects certain structures or subsystems, while
the effect of loading is indirect and operates more by consuming
energy than by affecting structures directly.
In a system as multifaceted and complex as a d-SoC, several of
each of the four types of stabilization activities may be going o n
at any given instant. Further, any particular action may be
complex enough to constitute more than one kind of stabiliza-
tion simultaneously. For example, suppose I have taken a drug
and for some reason decide I do not want it to affect my con-
sciousness. I begin thinking intensely about personal triumphs in
my life. T h i s stabilizes my ordinary state of consciousness by load-
ing it, absorbing most of my attention/awareness energy into that
activity so that it cannot drift off into thoughts that would help
the transition to an altered state. It also acts as positive feedback,
making me feel good, and so increasing my desire to continue
this kind of activity.
Many stabilizing processes use psychological energy, energy
that could be used for other things. T h u s there is a cost to
stabilizing a d-SoC that must be balanced against the gain that
results from the focus obtainable from a stable d-SoC. T h e ques-
tion of the optimal degree of stabilization for a given d-SoC when
functioning in a given environment is important, although it has
not been researched. If there are too few stabilization processes,
the d-SoC can be broken down too easily, a circumstance that
could be most unadaptive—when driving, for example. If the d-
SoC is too stabilized, if too much energy is being consumed in
stabilization processes, then that much less energy is available for
other purposes. Some of the psychological literature on rigidity as
a personality variable might provide a good starting point for
investigating optimal stabilization.
A d-SoC, then, is not simply a collection of psychological parts
thrown together any old way; it is an integral system because
various stabilization processes control the interaction patterns
among the structures and subsystems so as to maintain the func-
tional identity of the overall system.
7
Induction of Altered States:
Going to Sleep, Hypnosis,
Meditation
OWWKHKHKHKHKHKHKHKHKHKHKHKH^
We have now seen that a d-SoC is a system that is stabilized in

multiple ways, so as to maintain its integrity in the face of
changing environmental input and changing actions taken in
response to the environment. Suppose that the coping function of
the particular d-SoC is not appropriate for the existing environ-
mental situation, or that the environment is safe and stable and
no particular d-SoC is needed to cope with it, and you want to
transit to a d-ASC: what do you do?
This chapter examines the process of inducing a d-ASC in
general from the systems approach, and then considers its appli-
cation to three transitions from ordinary consciousness: to sleep,
to hypnosis, and to meditative states.
Inducing a d-ASC: General Principles

T h e starting point is the baseline state of consciousness (b-
SoC), usually the ordinary d-SoC. T h e b-SoC is an active, stable,
overall patterning of psychological functions which, via multiple
stabilization relationships (loading, positive and negative feed-
back, and limiting) among its constituent parts, maintains its
identity in spite of environmental changes. I emphasize multiple
stabilization, for as in any well-engineered complex system, there
are many processes maintaining a state of consciousness: it would
Induction of Altered States 80
be too vulnerable to unadaptive disruption if there were only a

few.
Inducing the transition to a d-ASC is a three-step process,
based on two psychological ( a n d / o r physiological) operations.
T h e process is what happens internally; the operations are the
particular things you d o to yourself, or someone does to you, to
make the induction process h a p p e n . In the following pages the
steps of the process are described sequentially and the operations
are described sequentially, but note that the same action may
function as both kinds of induction operation simultaneously.
INDUCTION OPERATIONS: DISRUPTION AND PATTERNING
T h e first induction operation is to disrupt the stabilization of

your b-SoC, to interfere with the loading, positive and negative
feedback, and limiting processes/structures that keep your psy-
chological structures operating within their ordinary range. Sev-
eral stabilization processes must be disrupted. If, for example,
someone were to clap his hands loudly right now, while you are
reading, you would be somewhat startled. Your level of activa-
tion would be increased; you might even j u m p . I doubt, how-
ever, that you would enter a d-ASC. T h r o w i n g a totally
unexpected and intense stimulus into your own mind could cause
a momentary shift within the pattern of your ordinary d-SoC but
not a transition to a d-ASC. If you were drowsy it might totally
disrupt one or two stabilization processes for a moment, but since
multiple stabilization processes are going on, this would not be
sufficient to alter your state of consciousness. 1
So the first operation in inducing a d-ASC is to disrupt enough
stabilization processes to a great enough extent that the baseline
pattern of consciousness cannot maintain its integrity. If only
some of the stabilization processes are disrupted, the remaining
undisrupted ones may be sufficient to hold the system together;
l This particular example is true for your ordinary d-SoC. But if you had
been asleep, you might have been awakened as a result of the hand clap. It
might have been sufficient in a sleep d-SoC to disrupt stabilization enough to
allow a transition back to ordinary waking consciousness. Also, if the expecta-
tional context were right, it could cause a transition from your ordinary d-SoC
to a d-ASC. The Abb£ de Faria, in the early days of hypnosis, "hypnotized"
ignorant peasants by leading them through dark passages into a dark room,
then suddenly setting off a tray of flash powder while striking a huge gong
[38], This must be one of the most authentic ways of "blowing one's mind."
82
thus, an induction procedure can be carried out without ac-
tually inducing a d-ASC. Unfortunately, some investigators have
equated the procedure of induction with the presence of a d-
ASC, a methodological fallacy discussed in Chapter 13.
Stabilization processes can be disrupted directly when they can
be identified, or indirectly by pushing some psychological func-
tions to and beyond their limits of functioning. Particular sub-
systems, for example, can be disrupted by overloading them with
stimuli, depriving them of stimuli, or giving them anomalous
stimuli that cannot be processed in habitual ways. T h e function-
ing of a subsystem can be disrupted by withdrawing a t t e n t i o n /
awareness energy or other psychological energy from it, a gentle
kind of disruption. If the operation of one subsystem is disrupted,
it may alter the operation of a second subsystem via feedback
paths, etc.
Drugs can disrupt the functioning of the b-SoC, as can any
intense physiological procedure, such as exhaustion or exercise.
T h e second induction operation is to apply patterning forces,
stimuli that then push disrupted psychological functioning
toward the new pattern of the desired d-ASC. These patterning
stimuli may also serve to disrupt the ordinary functioning of the
b-SoC insofar as they are incongruent with the functioning of the
b-SoC. T h u s the same stimuli may serve as both disruptive and
patterning forces. For example, viewing a diagram that makes
little sense in the baseline state can be a mild disrupting force.
But the same diagram, viewed in the altered state, may make
sense or be esthetically pleasing and thus may become a mandala
for meditation, a patterning force.
STEPS IN THE INDUCTION PROCESS
Figure 7-1 sketches the steps of the induction process. T h e b-

SoC is represented as blocks of various shapes and sizes (repre-
senting particular psychological structures) forming a system/
construction (the state of consciousness) in a gravitational field
(the e n v i r o n m e n t ) . At the extreme left, a n u m b e r of psychologi-
cal structures are assembled into a stable construction, the b-SoC.
T h e detached figures below the base of the construction repre-
sent psychological potentials not available in the b-SoC.
Disrupting (and patterning) forces, represented by the arrows,
are applied to begin induction. T h e second figure from the left
ov
Figure 7-1. Steps in the induction of a d-ASC.

82
depicts this beginning and represents change within the b-SoC.
T h e disruptive (and patterning) forces are being applied, and
while the overall construction remains the same, some of the
relationships within it have changed. System change has about
reached its limit: at the right and left ends of the construction,
for example, things are close to falling apart. Particular psycho-
logical structures/subsystems have varied as far as they can while
still maintaining the overall pattern of the system. 2
Also shown is the changing relationship of some of the latent
potentials outside consciousness, changes we must postulate from
this systems approach and our knowledge of the dynamic uncon-
scious, b u t about which we have little empirical data 3 at present.
If the disrupting forces are successful in finally breaking down
the organization of the b-SoC, the second step of the induction
process occurs, the construction/state of consciousness comes
apart, and a transitional period occurs. I n Figure 7-1 this is
depicted as the scattering of parts of the construction, without
clear-cut relationships to one another or perhaps with momen-
tary dissociated relationships as with the small square, the circle,
and the hexagon on the left side of the transition diagram. T h e
disrupting forces are now represented by the light arrow, as they
are not as important now that the disruption has actually oc-
curred; the now more important patterning forces are represented
by the heavy arrows. T h e patterning stimuli/forces must now
push the isolated psychological structures into a new construction,
the third and final step of the processes in which a new, self-stabi-
lized structure, the d-ASC, forms. Some of the psychological
structures/functions present in the b-SoC, such as those repre-
sented by the squares, trapezoids, circles, and small hexagon, may
not be available in this new state of consciousness; other psycho-
logical functions not available in the b-SoC have now become
available. Some functions available in the b-SoC may be avail-
able at the same or at an altered level of functioning in the d-
ASC. T h e r e is a change in both the selection of h u m a n potentials
2 There is a depth or intensity dimension within some b-SoCs (discussed in

Chapter 14). So we could speak of the b-SoC having reached its deepest (or
shallowest) extreme.
3 Psychoanalytical studies [19] of hypnotic induction give us inferential in-
formation on such activities: experiential phenomena reported during induc-
tion are interpreted as indicators of changes in unconscious forces, drives, and
defenses.
used and the manner in which they are constructed i n t o a work-

ing system.
Figure 7-1 also indicates that the patterning and disrupting
forces may have to continue to be present, perhaps in attenuated
form, in order for this new state to be stable. T h e d-ASC may not
have enough internal stabilization at first to hold u p against
internal or environmen'al change, and artificial props may be
needed. For example, a p> rson may at first have to be hypnotized
in a very quiet, supportive environment in order to make the
transition into hypnosis, but after he has been hypnotized a few
times, the d-ASC is stable enough so that he can remain hypno-
tized under noisy, chaotic conditions.
I n following this example you probably thought of going from
your ordinary state to some more exotic d-ASC, but this theoreti-
cal sequence applies for transition from any d-SoC to any other d-
SoC. Indeed, this is also the drinduction process, the process of
going from a d-ASC back to the b-SoC. Disrupting forces are
applied to destabilize the altered state, and patterning forces to
reinstate the baseline state; a transitional period ensues, and the
baseline state re-forms. Since it is generally much easier to get
back into our ordinary state, we usually pay little attention to
the deinduction process, although it is just as complex in prin-
ciple as the induction process. 4
It may be that some d-SoCs cannot be reached directly from
another particular d-SoC; some intermediary d-SoC has to be
traversed. T h e process is like crossing a stream that is too wide to
leap over directly: you have to leap onto one or more stepping
stones in sequence to get to the other side. Each stepping stone is
a stable place in itself, b u t they are transitional with respect to
the beginning and end points of the process. Some of the jhana
states of Buddhist meditation may be of this n a t u r e (see Gole-
man's chapter in Transpersonal Psychologies [128]). T h i s kind of
stable transitional state should not be confused with the inher-
ently unstable transitional periods discussed above, and we
should be careful in our use of the words state and period.
* We might hypothesize that because the ordinary d-SoC is so tremendously

overlearned compared with almost any other d-SoC, whenever there is a
transitional period the dominant tendency is to repattern the ordinary d-SoC
mode. Sleep would also be likely. Only the presence of special patterning
forces allows some d-ASCs to be structured from a transitional state.
Let us now look at examples of three inductions of d-ASCs, all
starting from a b-SoC of the ordinary waking state—the process
of falling asleep, the induction of hypnosis, and the practice of
two kinds of meditation toward the goal of reaching a meditative
state. These examples are intended not as final analyses from the
systems approach, but simply as illustrations of how the systems
approach to states of consciousness deals with the induction of d-
ASCs.
Going to Sleep
You begin by lying down in a quiet, dimly lit or dark room.

T h e physical act of lying down, closing the eyes, being in a quiet
place, immediately eliminates much of the loading stabilization
that helps to maintain your ordinary d-SoC. Since there are far
fewer sensory stimuli coming in from the quiet environment,
energy is not required for dealing with these stimuli, and some of
this psychological energy is freed. Some of it may, for example, go
to enhancing imagery. Further, incoming stimuli tend to pattern
the kind of psychological energies that maintain your active,
waking state; they activate you. W i t h o u t this stimulation, then,
certain kinds of psychological energies are no longer generated.
W h e n these activation energies are generated, they ordinarily
circulate through and f u r t h e r stabilize the waking state by load-
ing it.
Lying down and relaxing eliminate another major source of
loading stabilization, the familiar, expected pattern of input
from your body. Almost all your kinesthetic receptors for telling
you what your body is doing respond primarily to change, and
when you are relaxed and still for long periods, these receptors
stop sending messages into the central nervous system. Your
body, in a neural impulse sense, disappears; it is no longer there
to pattern consciousness.
You adopt an attitude that there is nothing to accomplish, no
goals to be attained, no problems to solve, nothing important to
deal with. Your attitude is that there is n o normative pattern to
hold your consciousness.
It is usually futile to try to go to sleep. T h e active attitude that
works so well in doing things within your ordinary waking d-SoC
does not help here. T a k i n g this passive attitude f u r t h e r withdraws
attention/awareness energy from many of your feedback stabiliza-
tion processes. If there is n o norm to hold to, there is no need to
monitor for and correct deviations from the norm. T h i s is impor-
tant for allowing thought processes and other psychological
processess to drift into the hypnagogic mode.
So far these attitudes (nothing is important) and physical
actions (inactions really, lying still and relaxing) are similar to
the start of many other procedures for inducing various d-ASCs.
W h a t tips the balance toward inducing the particular d-SoC of
sleep are the physiological factors (not well understood, in spite
of two decades of intense research o n sleep) we call tiredness, or
need to sleep. These tiredness factors constitute both a further
disrupting force for the waking state and a patterning force or
forces for shaping the transitional period into the sleep state.
T h e i r intensity is important in determining whether the induc-
tion is successful: if you are not at all tired, sleep will probably
not occur. If you are very tired, sleep may occur even if the other
disrupting operations (lying down, reducing sensory input, tak-
ing a "nothing is i m p o r t a n t " attitude) have not been carried
out.
T h e study by Vogel and his colleagues of ego states during the
transition to sleep, described in Chapter 5, showed how the
experiential m a p p i n g of consciousness fell into two (or perhaps
three) distinct clusters, two (or perhaps three) d-SoCs. For a
time after lying down, the subjects retained a feeling of contact
with the environment and their thoughts remained plausible by
consensus reality standards. T h i s was the intact ego state. T h e
subjects then moved into the destructuralized ego "state," losing
contact with the external environment and with their thoughts
deviating greatly from consensus reality standards of normality.
They regained plausibility of thought in the restructuralized ego
state. T h e destructuralized ego "state" is transitional between the
intact ego state and the restructuralized ego state. W h e t h e r it
constitutes a d-SoC by our definition is not clear from Vogel's
data: we d o not know whether there was a coherent pattern or
just constant change.
Inducing Hypnosis
T h e procedures for inducing hypnosis are many and varied,

but certain steps are common to most of these procedures. T h e
first such step usually involves having you sit or lie comfortably,
82
so you do not have to exert any effort to m a i n t a i n your bodily
position, and telling you not to move and to relax your body as
much as possible. T h i s step has a variety of effects. For one thing,
if you are somewhat anxious about what is going to happen, your
anxiety, which is intimately related to bodily tension, is at least
partially relieved if you relax. You limit your ability to feel anxi-
ety. T h i s makes it easier for you to alter your state of conscious-
ness. Also, when your body is in a relaxed position and lying still,
many of the kinesthetic receptors adapt out, as in going to sleep.
T h u s the body as a whole begins to fade out as a conscious ex-
perience; this known, patterned stimulation fades and n o longer
serves as a load and patterning force to help stabilize your b-SoC.
Second, the hypnotist commonly tells you to listen only to his
voice and to ignore other thoughts or sensations that come into
your mind. Ordinarily you constantly scan the environment to
see if important stimuli are present. T h i s constant scanning
keeps u p a continuous, varied pattern of information and energy
exchanges among subsystems, which tends to keep subsystems
active in the waking state pattern: as varied perceptions come in,
you must decide whether they are important, you must draw on
memories from the past in making these decisions, etc. By with-
drawing attention/awareness energy from this scanning of the en-
vironment, you withdraw a good deal of psychological energy
and activity from a n u m b e r of subsystems: a major loading and
patterning process is attenuated.
A third common instruction is that you should not think about
what the hypnotist is saying, b u t just listen to it passively. If the
hypnotist says your arm is feeling heavy, you are not to think,
" H e says it's feeling heavy, I wonder if it really will get heavy, I
remember it got heavy a long time ago b u t that's because there
was a weight on it; well, I guess I shouldn't be doubting. . . ."
I n the ordinary d-SoC you constantly think about what is being
said to you and what is happening to you, and this maintains a
great deal of evaluative and decision-making activity and again
activates other subsystems. T h u s , this step also slows down the
constant thinking that helps to maintain your ordinary d-SoC
through loading stabilization.
Fourth, you are frequently told to focus your attention on
some particular thing in addition to the hypnotist's voice. Let us
take the example of your being asked to look fixedly at some
simple object like a candle flame or a bright, shiny disk. T h i s
fixation serves to reduce f u r t h e r your scanning of the environ-
ment, with the same effects mentioned above, b u t it has an
additional effect. It is unusual for you in your ordinary d-SoC to
stare fixedly at one thing. If you do, all sorts of unexpected (to
most people) visual effects occur because the retina becomes
fatigued. Colored halos start to appear a r o u n d the object being
stared at, shadows appear and disappear, apparent movements
occur, parts of the object fade. T o the extent that these are not
part of your usual experience, they constitute a kind of i n p u t
that the Input-Processing subsystem (discussed later) is not used
to handling, and so they tend to disrupt the normal functioning
of this subsystem.
Further, because the hypnotist earlier stated that he has the
power to make you have unusual experiences, the fact that you
are now having unusual experiences enhances the prestige of the
hypnotist and gives you more trust in him. T h i s is a kind of
trick: by using physiological effects that you d o not realize are
the expected result of staring at anything, the hypnotist manages
to take credit and so enhances his psychological effectiveness. T h e
importance of this will become even clearer later when we discuss
the Sense of Identity subsystem.
Fifth, the hypnotist commonly suggests to you that you are
feeling sleepy or drowsy. T h i s elicits a variety of memory associa-
tions that help the induction process. Since going to sleep means
that your b-SoC breaks down, this suggestion acts as a disruptive
force. And since going to sleep is associated with a fading out of
your body image, this suggestion enhances the fading of the body
image that is already occurring because of the adaptation of
kinesthetic receptors to your relaxed, still posture. Further, since
going to sleep is a passive activity, the suggestion encourages a
sense of passivity on your part and so reinforces the earlier
instructions not to think about what the hypnotist is saying b u t
simply to accept it. T h e references to sleep also draw u p mem-
ories and expectations of your identity fading, so energy is not
required to keep evaluating the situation in terms of your per-
sonal values.
Sixth, as well as suggesting sleep, the hypnotist often f u r t h e r
indicates that this sleep is not quite the same as real sleep
because you will still hear him. T h e hypnotist may not need to
suggest this overtly: everyone in our culture knows enough about
hypnosis to realize that the subject can still hear the hypnotist.
T h i s is a specific patterning force. T h e suggestions telling you
that what is h a p p e n i n g is like sleep primarily serve to disrupt
8 2 States of Consciousness
your d-SoC, b u t since the hypnotist does not want you actually to
go to sleep, he adds a patterning force to produce a passive
sleep/t/te state in which communication with the hypnotist is still
effective.
Seventh, once you appear passive and relaxed, most hypnotic
procedures go o n to simple motor suggestions, such as having you
hold an arm horizontally out in front of you and telling you it is
getting heavy. Motor suggestions like this are relatively easy for
most people to experience, and as you begin to respond to these
suggestions, the hypnotist's prestige is f u r t h e r enhanced.
T h i s automatic response to suggestion affects your Sense of
Identity subsystem. Ordinarily it is your own "voice" inside you
that tells you to do a thing that you then do. Now the hypnotist's
voice takes over this role, and your sense of self begins to include
the hypnotist. T h e special modulation from this subsystem that
constitutes the ego sense (discussed later) is added to the stimuli
that would ordinarily be perceived as the voice of an outsider.
Psychoanalysts call this the transference element of hypnosis,
especially when some of the transference involves parental trans-
ferences onto the hypnotist. T h e deliberate or implicit encour-
agement of identification with the hypnotist's voice is an
application of patterning forces.
Success with simple motor suggestions also produces a novel
kind of body stimulation: you feel your body moving, b u t with
different qualities than ordinarily. Your arm, for instance, feels
exceptionally heavy and seems to move by itself. T h i s kind of
d a t u m again does not fit the habitual input-processing patterns,
and so tends both to disrupt the stabilization of your d-SoC and
to help pattern the hypnotic state.
As you respond well to simple motor suggestions, the hypnotist
usually goes on to harder and more impressive motor suggestions
and various kinds of cognitive suggestions, and continued success
leads to increasing inclusion of the hypnotist within your ego
sense.
Finally, we should note that an important factor in under-
standing the hypnotic induction technique is the subject's im-
plicit expectations of what it is like to be hypnotized and how a
hypnotized subject behaves. Shor [59] did a survey showing that
among college students there is a fairly good general knowledge
of what hypnosis is like, in spite of some misconceptions. So
if a subject agrees to be hypnotized and believes that the hypno-
tist can do it, he has implicit expectations that affect his reactions
to the particular things the hypnotist does.
T H E HYPNOTIC STATE
If the induction is successful and the neutral hypnotic state is

developed, the result is a d-ASC characterized by a quiet mind
[78]; most of the structures are inactive, many of the psychological
subsystems discussed in Chapter 8 are not actively functioning.
Typically, if a deeply hypnotized subject is asked what he is
thinking about or experiencing, the answer is "Nothing." How-
ever, this state is also characterized by greatly enhanced suggesti-
bility, a greater mobility of attention/awareness energy, so when
a particular experience is suggested to the subject he usually
experiences it far more vividly than he could in his ordinary d-SoC,
often to the point of total experiential reality. T h u s the hypnotic
state shows a high flexibility of functioning, even though it is rela-
tively quiet between particular functionings. T h e state is also
characterized by a quality called rapport, a functioning of the
Sense of Identity subsystem to include the hypnotist as part oi
the subject's own ego.
It is easy to see how the various techniques mentioned above
destabilize the ordinary pattern and operate o n various psycho
logical subsystems to push them toward extreme values of func-
tioning. But where is the actual transition? W e do not know.
Studies of hypnosis have generally paid little attention to the
transition between hypnosis and waking. Some psychoanalyti-
cally oriented case studies [19] have reported marked transi-
tional effects, but no study has tried to m a p the exact n a t u r e and
extent of the q u a n t u m j u m p .
Much modern research that has tried to determine whether
hypnotic suggestibility is indeed greater than waking suggestibil-
ity has committed an important methodological error (discussed
in Chapter 9) : using group data without examining individual
data. T h u s , unless every individual makes the transition at ex-
actly the same point o n the appropriate measures of psychologi-
cal subsystem functioning, n o transition point would appear in
the group data. Put another way, if there were some one variable
o n which the j u m p was made from the normal state into hyp-
nosis, and one subject j u m p e d from a value of two to six to make
his transition, and a second subject j u m p e d f r o m three to seven,
and a third from four to eight, etc., the group data would show
absolute continuity and no evidence for a transitional phase.
Superimposing many maps destroys the patterns. T h e systems
approach stresses the importance of examining the transitional
period of hypnotic phenomena.
O n e f u r t h e r idea should be mentioned. Because most or all
subsystems in the unprogrammed deep hypnotic state, so-called
neutral hypnosis, are idling or relatively inactive, the hypnotic
state may be better than the ordinary waking state as a b-SoC
with which to compare other states. T h e ordinary waking state
seems an incredibly complex, active, and specialized construction
compared with the hypnotic state.
Meditation and Meditative States
Meditation refers to a variety of techniques that may or may

not induce a d-ASC at a given time.
Meditation techniques are varied, but N a r a n j o and Ornstein
[39] have classified them into three basic types: (1) concentra-
tive meditation, (2) opening-up meditation, and (3) expressive
meditation. Here we consider the first two and begin by analyz-
ing a technique common to both before f u r t h e r distinguishing
between them.
Most meditation techniques involve, as the initial step, sitting
absolutely still in a posture that is not only comfortable, but that
involves keeping the head, neck, and spine in a straight vertical
line. A small b u t significant amount of muscular effort is needed
to maintain this posture. Like the comfortable position assumed
for inducing sleep or hypnosis, the comfortable posture in medi-
tation allows various kinesthetic receptors to adapt out, so the
body image generally fades. I n contrast with going to sleep, the
fact that a slight amount of muscular effort is needed to hold the
body in this upright position prevents sleep from occurring for
most people. Hypnotic induction procedures can allow the sub-
ject to slip in and out of actual sleep, b u t this is usually quite
disruptive in meditative procedures, as the person begins to fall
over.
Since much of a person's sense of identity comes from his body
image, the fading of the body in a comfortable, steady posture
also tends to reduce his sense of identity, thus helping to de-
stablilize his b-SoC and to free energy.
Sitting absolutely still, not acting, also frees energy that would
otherwise be automatically absorbed in acting: meditation is a
technically simplified situation in this way.
T h e vertical posture for head, neck, and spine is also of theo-
retical importance in meditation systems that believe that a
latent h u m a n potentiality, the Kundalini force, is stored at the
base of the spine and may flow upward, activating various other
postulated latent potentials, the psychic energy centers or
chakras, as it rises [128, ch. 6].
Since the meditator is sitting absolutely still, his muscular
subsystem similarly has little to do beyond postural mainte-
nance. T h i s f u r t h e r reduces loading stabilization. T h u s many
sources of activity that maintain ordinary d-SoC fade out when
the meditative posture is assumed.
CONCENTRATIVE MEDITATION
Concentrative meditation techniques basically instruct you to

p u t all of your attention on some particular thing. T h i s can be
an external object that is looked at fixedly or some internal
sensation such as the rise and fall of the belly in breathing. As in
hypnotic induction, the meditator is told that if his mind
wanders away from this focus he is to bring it back gently 5 to this
focus, and not allow it to be distracted.
T h i s greatly restricts the variety of input to the system, inhibits
thinking about various stimuli that come from scanning the
environment, and in general takes attention/awareness energy
away from and reduces the activity of the various subsystems of
ordinary consciousness.
T h e meditator fixes his attention on one thing, usually an
external or internal sensation. T h i s can produce unusual phe-
nomena due to various kinds of receptor fatigue, as in the induc-
tion of hypnosis, but most meditation systems stress that these
anomalous perceptual phenomena should not be taken as signs of
success or be paid any special attention. I n Zen Buddhism, for
example, there is a teaching story of a student excitedly rushing
to his roshi (master) to describe a vision of gods bowing down to
him and feelings of ecstasy that occurred d u r i n g his meditation.
6 Gently bringing attention back to the concentration focus is important: if
you violently bring it back, light the distractions, this sends large quantities
of attention/awareness to them, and so keeps attention/awareness energy cir-
culating through the system generally. This stabilizes the ordinary d-SoC,
which involves many flows of attention/awareness energy to a variety of
things.
82
T h e roshi asks him if he remembered to keep his attention fixed
on the rise and fall of his belly in breathing during the vision, as
per the meditation instructions, and when the student says no
(who would care about the rise and fall of your belly during
such a vision?), the roshi reprimands the student for allowing
himself to become distracted! T h u s while anomalous perceptual
phenomena may act as disruptive forces for our ordinary state,
they d o not attract the same amount of attention in meditation
as they d o in hypnosis and so may have different effects. 6
As in any induction technique, the person preparing to medi-
tate has explicit and implicit expectations of what will come
about. His explicit expectations stem from his immediately con-
scious memories of what he knows about meditation and his goal
in doing it. His implicit expectations range from the implicit but
potentially conscious ones that come from other knowledge about
meditation he could recall but is not recalling at the moment, to
more implicit ones that he has absorbed over a longer time and
of which he may not be consciously aware. T h e more implicit
expectations may or may not accord with the teachings of the
particular meditative system, for they may have come through
personality-induced distortions of teaching situations in the
past. T h e discussion (in Chapter 4) of the construction of ordi-
nary consciousness and how it affects our perception of the world
is relevant here.
STATE RESULTING FROM CONCENTRATIVE MEDITATION
N a r a n j o and Ornstein [39] describe the meditative state 7 of

consciousness that can result from concentrative meditation as a
discrete state characterized as "voidness," "blankness," or
0 Another important difference is that in hypnosis induction the hypnotist

takes credit for these anomalous cffects, thus helping to incorporate himself
into the subject's own psyche. We have given little attention to the role of
the hypnotist as "outsider," for he only becomes effective as he becomes able
to control the subject's own attention/awareness energy. The meditator in the
Buddhist tradition is seeking to free himself from control by external events
or persons, and so does not value particular phenomena.
T We speak here of a single state resulting from concentrative meditation
because our rudimentary scientific knowledge goes only this far. But we should
remember that spiritual disciplines distinguish many states where we see one.
In Buddhist terms, for example, eight distinct states of samadhi (concentra-
tion) are described, each of which may be a d-SoC (see Chapter 17 and [128]).
Whether these are actually useful descriptions of eight d-SoCs or only descrip-
tions of techniques is a question for the developing science of consciousness
to research.
"no-thingness." T h e r e seems to be a temporary n o n f u n c t i o n i n g
of all psychological functions. I n some sense, difficult to deal with
verbally, awareness seems to be maintained, b u t there is no
object of awareness. T h e appearance of this meditative state
seems to be sudden and to clearly represent a q u a n t u m leap. T h e
practice of meditation quiets down the various subsystems, b u t
there is a sudden transition to this pattern of voidness.
T h e meditative state may or may not be valued in and of
itself, depending on the particular spiritual discipline and its
philosophy. W h a t does generally seem to be valued is its after-
effect, generally described as a great "freshening" of perception
or increase in feelings of aliveness. In terms of the systems ap-
proach, a major aftereffect of the concentration-produced medi-
tation state is a decrease in processing and abstracting of sensory
input from what occurs in the ordinary d-SoC. Much more raw
sensory data are passed to awareness, instead of the highly selected
abstractions usually seen, and this produces a great intensifica-
tion of sensory perception of both the external world and one's
own body. T h i s is usually felt as quite joyful. As Wordsworth p u t
it in Ode on Intimations of Immortality [147]:
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream.

T h e earth and every common sight,
T o me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
T h e glory and the freshness of a dream.
Going on to contrast this with perception in his ordinary d-SoC,

he said:
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—

T u r n whereso'er I may,
By night or day,
T h e things which I have seen I now can see no more.
I suspect that if Wordsworth were alive today he would be quite

interested in altered states of consciousness.
T h i s is a good place to remind ourselves that a state of con-
sciousness generally has many processes stabilizing it. Many of
you have had the experience of sitting down and trying to medi-
tate according to some prescription and finding that rather than
reaching some desirable d-ASC you only obtained a sore back!
Sitting still in the correct posture and trying to do the technique
82
may indeed disrupt some of the customary feedback processes
that stabilize your b-SoC, b u t if others are still active, such as
continual thinking, no actual shift in state of consciousness will
result.
Confusion results when the word meditation is used to describe
many different things. It is probably too late to prevent sloppy
usage, but ideally, the phrase tried to meditate means that the
meditator attempted to carry out the instructions b u t was not
successful at concentrating or holding the posture. T h e phrase
did meditate means the meditator felt he was relatively successful
in following the instructions, even though n o meditative state
developed. T h e phrase reached a meditative state means that the
meditator actually did so.
OPENING-UP MEDITATION
Opening-up meditation refers to a variety of techniques whose

aim is to help you achieve full sensitivity to and awareness of
whatever happens to you, to be a conscious observer observing
what is happening to you without being caught u p in your
reactions to it. It is a matter of being aware of what is happening
without thinking about what is h a p p e n i n g to the exclusion of
perceiving what is happening, or becoming identified with re-
actions to what is happening. Vispassana is a Buddhist meditation
of this sort. T h e word means something like bare attention—bare
attention to sensations, feelings, thoughts, and reactions to these
things as they occur. T h e "simple" rule 8 is to notice anything and
everything that happens, to neither reject anything as unworthy
of attention, nor welcome anything as worthy of more attention
than anything else. T h i s includes being aware of "failures," such
as thoughts, rather than fighting them.
O p e n i n g meditation is usually practiced in the same sort of
posture as concentrative meditation, so all the effects of posture
on disrupting the b-SoC are similar.
T h i s nonidentification with stimuli prevents attention/aware-
ness energy from being caught u p in the automatic, habitual
processes involved in maintaining the ordinary d-SoC. T h u s
while awareness remains active, various psychological subsystems
tend to drift to lower and lower levels of activity. T r a d i t i o n a l
accounts indicate that after a high level of success is achieved,
8 "Simple" to say, extremely difficult to dol

there is a sudden shift into a meditative state of consciousness
characterized by a great freshening of perception and deautoma-
tization of the subsystem of Input-Processing. T h i s is the medi-
tative state itself, rather than an aftereffect of it, as in
concentrative meditation. Almost all psychological energy is
present in the awareness function, and there seems to be far less
input-processing, so things are perceived more directly. 9 T h e
meditator experiences things as much more intense and clear;
whether this means that he perceives the external more accu-
rately has not, to my knowledge, been tested.
Although meditation has been a neglected topic of scientific
research, this is changing rapidly: the interested reader should
see the bibliography on research in this area p u t out by T i m -
mons and Kamiya [141], as well as the recent u p d a t i n g of that
bibliography by T i m m o n s and Kanellakos [142].
T h i s concludes our brief survey of the process of inducing a d-
ASC. In some ways it is too simplified: the actual situation in
which a person, either by himself or with the help of another, sits
down to induce a d-ASC is influenced by many variables that
affect our lives, especially those implicit factors stemming from
our personal and cultural histories that are so hard for us to see.
One final example to illustrate the importance of these im-
plicit and expectational factors. W h e n p h o n o g r a p h recordings
were still something of a novelty, George Estabrooks [16], one
of the early researchers in hypnosis, decided to see if hypnosis
could be induced by simply recording the verbal procedure on a
record and playing it to a group of volunteer subjects. H e re-
corded an induction procedure and got some volunteers from one
of the college classes he taught. At the time for the experiment,
he p u t the record on and, to his consternation, found he had
brought the wrong record from his office: he was playing a record
of Swiss yodelingl Deciding to let it entertain his subjects while
he got the right one, he said nothing b u t left and went to his
office.
W h e n he returned, he found one subject was in a deep hyp-
notic state! T h e professor had said this record would hypnotize
him, the student went into hypnosis.
» We do not know enough at present to adequately describe how the d-ASC

reached from opening meditation, characterized by freshened perception,
differs from the feeling of freshened perception occurring within one's or-
dinary d-SoC as an aftereffect of concentrative meditation.
8
Subsystems
<HKHKHKHXHKHKH><H>1XHKHK^
We began this discussion of the systems approach to conscious-

ness by describing the concepts of attention/awareness, energy,
and structure. We defined a structure as a basic unit that can be
assembled into larger structures or be analyzed into substruc-
tures. At present, our scientific knowledge is generally too rudi-
mentary to allow the breakdown of structures into their compo-
nents. We can, however, describe the assembly of multiple
structures into major experiential and experimental divisions-
subsystems—of consciousness. T e n such subsystems are described
in this chapter. They are convenient conceptual tools for under-
standing the currently known range of variations in d-ASCs. They
do not refer to localized regions of the brain. They are concepts I
have developed by classifying the greatly varying experiences and
behaviors reported in d-ASCs into clusters of phenomena that
seem to hold together, on the basis of both their own internal
similarity and other known psychological data.
In their present form, I find these subsystems a useful concep-
tual tool for organizing the otherwise chaotic masses of data
about d-ASCs. I also believe that further thinking can sharpen
our ideas about the properties of these subsystems and their
possible interactions with each other and allow us to predict d-
ASCs in addition to those already known. Making these predic-
tions and testing them should further sharpen our conceptions
about the nature of various subsystems, and so further increase
Subsystems 98
our understanding. T h i s is the standard scientific procedure of
conceptualizing the data as well as possible, making predictions
on that basis, confirming and disproving various predictions, and
thus sharpening the conceptual system or modifying it. T h e
socialized repetition of this procedure is the essence of scientific
method.
Figure 8 - 1 sketches ten major subsystems, represented by the
labeled ovals, and their major interaction routes. T h e solid
arrows represent major routes of information flow: not all known
routes are shown, as this would clutter the diagram. T h e hatched
arrows represent major, known feedback control routes whereby
one subsystem has some control over the functioning of another
subsystem. T h e dashed arrows represent information flow routes
from the subconscious subsystem to other subsystems, routes that
are inferential from the point of view of the ordinary d-SoC.
Most of the subsystems are shown feeding information into, or
deriving information from, awareness, which is here considered
not a subsystem b u t the basic component of attention/awareness
and attention/awareness energy that flows through various
systems.
A brief overview of a state of consciousness as a functioning
system, as represented in Figure 8-1, can be described as follows.
Information from the outside world comes to us through the
Exteroception subsystem (classical sense organs), and informa-
tion from our own bodies comes to us via the Interoception
subsystem (kinesthetic and other bodily functioning receptors).
Data from both sets of sense organs undergo Input-Processing
(filtering, selecting, abstracting), which in t u r n influences the
functioning of Exteroception and Interoception. Input-Process-
ing draws heavily on stored Memory, creates new memories,
sends information both directly into awareness and into our
subconscious, and stimulates o u r Sense of Identity and our Emo-
tions. Information we are aware of is in turn affected by our
Sense of Identity and Emotions. W e subject this information to
Evaluation and Decision-Making; and we may act on it, produce
some sort of motor o u t p u t . T h i s Motor O u t p u t subsystem pro-
duces action in the body that is sensed via Interoception, in a
feedback process through the body. T h e Motor O u t p u t also
produces effects on the external world that are again sensed by
Exteroception, constituting feedback via the external world. O u r
perception and decision-making are also affected by our Space/
T i m e Sense. Also shown in Figure 8 - 1 are some latent functions,
Figure 8-1. Major subsystems of consciousness and principal informa-

tion flow routes.
which may be tapped in a d-ASC, but are not available in the b-

SoC.
I n the following pages the basic n a t u r e of each subsystem is
defined and the range of both quantitative and qualitative
alterations that occur in its functioning over the range of various
d-ASCs is indicated. Of necessity, these descriptions are somewhat
sketchy. O n e of the m a j o r tasks of f u t u r e research is to fill in the
details about each of these subsystems, their changes in d-ASCs,
and their interaction with other subsystems.
Exteroception
T h e subsystem Exteroception includes the classical sense or-
gans for registering changes in the environment: eyes, ears, nose,
taste organs, and touch organs.
Subsystems 91
T h e exteroceptive organs constitute a model of a whole system

of consciousness. First, they are active organs. While all of them
can respond to stimulation when they are passive, as when a light
is suddenly shined in your eye, they normally engage in an active
scanning of the environment. Your eyes dart about; you turn
your head or perk u p your ears to hear sounds more clearly; you
reach out to touch things that interest you. Similarly, conscious-
ness can be passively stimulated, b u t ordinarily it is an active
process.
Second, each of the classical exteroceptive sense organs has
limited responsiveness. T h e eye cannot respond to ultraviolet
light, the ear cannot pick u p sounds above or below certain
frequencies, touch cannot respond to exceptionally subtle
stimuli. Similarly, any state of consciousness has certain limits to
what it can and cannot react.
T h i r d , you have some voluntary control over the i n p u t to your
exteroceptive sense organs. If you do not want to see something,
you can look away or close your eyes; if you d o not want to hear
something, you can move away f r o m the sound source or p u t
your fingers in your ears. I n any state of consciousness, you have
some voluntary control over exteroceptive functioning. But the
control is limited: if the sound is intense enough, it is difficult
not to hear it at all, even with your hands over your ears.
Although many changes in perception of the external environ-
ment are reported in d-ASCs, these usually d o not represent
changes in the exteroceptors themselves, except possibly in some
drug-induced d-ASCs. Each of the classical sense organs is a
masterpiece of engineering; it is already as sensitive as it can be.
T h u s its useful sensitivity is not increased, even if a person
experiences himself as being in more contact with the environ-
ment in a d-ASC. As we shall see later, practically all phenomena
dealing with feelings of increased contact with the environment
are related to changes in the Input-Processing subsystem.
Sometimes when a d r u g is used to induce a d-ASC there may
be some physiological changes in the exteroceptors. LSD, for
example, may actually cause pupillary dilation, thus allowing in
more light (although one might quarrel wliether this is a direct
physiological effect or a secondary effect due to the increased
attention being paid to the external environment). Similarly,
since psychedelic drugs affect neural functioning generally, they
may have some direct effects on the neural components of the
sense organs themselves, but little is known of this now. So, in
terms of present knowledge about d-ASCs, changes in the extero-
ceptors seem of little importance.
I n p u t to the exteroceptors is usually deliberately manipulated
and patterned in the course of attempting to induce a d-ASC.
Although most of the important changes resulting from these
techniques occur in Input-Processing, some do start with direct
effects on the exteroceptors and should be noted.
I n p u t from the environment that, while varying, remains
within a learned, anticipated range, acts as a source of loading
stabilization. T h u s , changing the i n p u t to the exteroceptors may
interfere with the loading stabilization function a n d / o r inject
anomalous input that may destabilize a d-SoC.
A major way of doing this is to reduce or eliminate sensory
input. I n the induction process for many d-ASCs, there is an
attempt to make the environment quiet, to cut down the amount
of sensory input a person has to handle. Consider, for example,
the techniques of guided imagery [3] or twilight imagery, where,
while lying down with closed eyes, a person enters more and
more into fantasy. A genuine d-ASC may develop in some cases,
as fantasy intensifies, b u t it is clear that sensory i n p u t must
usually be kept at a low level to both induce and maintain this d-
ASC. I have seen people get into intense experiences through
guided imagery techniques, but the simple act of opening the
eyes and allowing visual input from the physical world to enter
immediately disrupts this state.
Reduction of sensory i n p u t to a level as near zero as possible is
a potent technique for inducing d-ASCs. I n the fifties and early
sixties, there were many sensory deprivation experiments during
which the subject lay comfortably in a dark, quiet room without
moving. T h e findings were interpreted as showing that if the
brain did not receive sufficient sensory input, the subject went
"crazy." It is now clear [46, 55] that practically all these studies
were severely contaminated, as were the contemporary studies of
psychedelic drugs, by implicit demand characteristics that ac-
count for most of the phenomena produced. If you p u t a person
through a procedure he thinks will make him crazy, in a medical
setting, he is likely to act crazy. T h a t tells you something about
suggestibility, but little about the effects of reduced sensory
input per se. Traditional literature from many spiritual psychol-
ogies [128] as well as accounts from people who have been
Subsystems 93
trapped in isolation situations, indicate that sensory deprivation

can be a powerful technique in affecting consciousness. But its
effect is apparently always patterned by other factors. 1
Changing.the patterning of i n p u t to the exteroceptors, and the
subsequent processing of the information in Input-Processing,
can also be a major way of altering consciousness. W h e n the same
kind of i n p u t is repeated over and over again, so that the
exteroceptors become saturated, all sorts of changes take place.
For example, if, by means of special apparatus, an image is held
absolutely still on the retina of the eye, it soon begins to break
u p and display all sorts of unusual perceptual changes. Even
when we believe we are looking steadily at something, there are
actually tiny saccadic movements of the eye that keep the image
moving slightly on the retina. Like so many of our receptors, the
eye actually responds to slight, continuous change and cannot
"see" absolutely steady input.
Overloading the exteroceptors is another way of inducing d-
ASCs. T h e principle is recognized by people who attend rock
concerts. Even if they have not taken some d r u g to help induce a
d-ASC, the light show of complex, changing patterns accom-
panied by exceptionally loud music overloads and fatigues the
exteroceptors, blowing their minds.
Interoception
T h e subsystem Interoception includes the various senses that
tell us what is going on inside o u r bodies—the position of o u r
limbs, the degree of muscle tension, how o u r limbs are moving,
pressure in our intestines, bodily temperature. It is a way of
sensing our internal world, as opposed to our external world.
Many of the o u t p u t signals from our interoceptors seem to be
permanently excluded from our awareness; many of our sensing
systems for governing the function of internal organs seem to
have n o representation in consciousness, regardless of conditions.
l Lilly's work [34, 35], in which a mature person uses the ultimate in sensory
deprivation (floating in body-temperature water in the quiet and dark) as a
tool, under his own direction, to explore consciousness, should be consulted
by anyone interested in this area. Lilly's use of sensory deprivation as a tool
under the subject's own control, rather than as a "treatment," imposed by
people who are studying "craziness," is a breakthrough in research in this
area. Suffice it to note here that sensory deprivation, by removing a major
source of loading stabilization by the exteroceptors, can be a major tool for
inducing d-ASCs and deserves much study.
82
For example, the functioning of o u r kidneys is regulated, but I
know of no one who claims to have a direct experiential feel for
what his kidneys are doing. We should, however, be careful
about setting any ultimate limits on what aspects of Interocep-
tion can never reach or be affected by consciousness. T h e modern
technology of biofeedback enables us to focus attention o n and to
control many bodily processes formerly thought to be completely
incapable of voluntary control.
Many other interoceptive signals not normally in o u r aware-
ness can be p u t in o u r awareness by turning our a t t e n t i o n /
awareness to them. For example, you may not have been think-
ing of sensations in your belly a moment ago, but now that I
mention them and your attention/awareness turns there, you can
detect various signals. W i t h practice you might become increas-
ingly sensitive to signals from this area of your body. T h u s , as
with o u r exteroceptors, we have some voluntary control over
what we will attend to, b u t this control is limited.
W e can also control interoceptive i n p u t by doing various
things to our bodies. If you have an unpleasant sensation from
some part of your body, you can relax, change position, take a
deep breath, and change the n a t u r e of that signal, presumably by
changing whatever is causing it. T h i s is an ability we take for
granted and know little about, but it is an important way of
affecting interoceptive input. Some techniques for inducing d-
ASCs, such as hatha yoga procedures, have a highly sophisticated
technology for affecting one's body and how one perceives it.
T h i s is the reason biofeedback technology is sometimes said to
have the potential to become an "electronic yoga," a way of
rapidly learning about various internal conditions and using
them to affect consciousness. W e are still a long way from attain-
ing this, however.
As is the case with exteroceptors, there is little evidence that
actual physiological changes take place in the interoceptors dur-
ing various d-ASCs, except possibly in some drug-induced d-
ASCs. Also as in Exteroception, the learned, anticipated range of
constant i n p u t from Interoception acts as a source of loading
stabilization for maintaining the ordinary d-SoC.
T h e pattern of input from interoceptors can be subsumed
under a useful psychological concept, the body image. You not
only have a real body whose actual sensations are picked u p by
the interoceptors, but, in the course of enculturation, you have
Subsystems 95
learned to perceive your own body in learned, patterned ways,

just as you have learned to perceive the external world in socially
learned ways. T h e degree to which your body image corresponds
to your actual body may vary considerably. My own observations
suggest that people's internal images of their bodies can differ
amazingly from what an external observer sees.
An individual's body image may be very stable. An intriguing
example of this is the phantom limb phenomenon. W h e n an arm
or a leg is amputated, the patient almost always reports he can
still feel the limb, even though he can see and otherwise intellec-
tually know it is not there. Sensations coming in from the severed
nerve tracts are nonconsciously organized in the learned, habit-
ual way so that the patient perceives the limb as still there. Most
patients soon lose perception of their p h a n t o m limbs as they are
subjected to considerable social pressure to do so. In some, how-
ever, the p h a n t o m limb persists in spite of all attempts to un-
learn it. T h e sensations may or may not be painful.
T h e primary things to note are that the body image can be
very rigid and may or may not show much correspondence to the
actual body contours and what actually goes on in the body. I am
convinced that as Westerners we generally have distorted images
of o u r bodies and poor contact with sensations that go on in
them. Since body sensations often represent a thinking about, or
data processing of, experience, and a way of expressing emotions,
o u r lack of contact with o u r actual body sensations puts us out of
contact with ourselves. T h i s is considered f u r t h e r in connection
with the Subconscious subsystem.
People's experiential reports from d-ASCs indicate that enor-

mous changes can take place in Interoception. T h e body may
seem to get larger or smaller, change in shape, change in internal
functioning, change in terms of the relationships of its parts, so
that the body may not "work" in the usual fashion. Most of this
range of experience probably represents changes in Input-
Processing, rather than changes in the interoceptors themselves.
As with Exteroception, changing your body image is a common
technique for inducing d-ASCs. Reducing interoceptive input,
overloading it, or patterning it in novel ways have all been used.
T h e primary effects are on Input-Processing, b u t the techniques
start by affecting the interoceptors themselves. Let us look at
some of these techniques briefly.
Immobilizing the body in a relaxed position is a m a j o r way of
causing the o u t p u t from Interoception to fade and, consequently,
causing the body image either to fade or to change, since it is n o
longer stabilized by actual input from the interoceptors. T h e
discussion of the induction of hypnosis, going to sleep, and
meditation in Chapter 7 mentions the importance of allowing
the interoceptors to adapt out so the input from the body dis-
appears. I n sensory deprivation techniques it is important to
relax the body and at the same time not move at all. Even a
slight movement can stimulate large numbers of interoceptors
and reestablish the body image readily.
Overloading interoceptors is an important technique for alter-
ing consciousness. A good massage, for instance, or sensory aware-
ness exercises that make you aware of bodily stimuli normally
overlooked, have been known to induce d-ASCs. At the opposite
end of the c o n t i n u u m from this pleasurable kind of manipula-
tion of Interoception, pain and torture are some of the surest
ways of inducing d-ASCs.
Patterning interoceptive input in unusual fashions is another
way of inducing d-ASCs. Mudras, gestures of symbolic signifi-
cance used in yoga, consist of putting the body i n t o certain
positions. I suspect that the actual bodily posture has a definite
patterning effect on interoceptive input and can affect con-
sciousness if you are sensitive to bodily input. If you are not
highly sensitive to input from your own body, the patterning of
interoceptive input may occur, but since not much awareness is
gained, posture does not pattern attention/awareness energy in a
way that would affect consciousness.
Another way of patterning interoceptive i n p u t is the altered
states of consciousness induction device (ASCID) developed by
Masters and H o u s t o n [37] o n the basis of medieval accounts of
the witch's cradle. T h i s is an upright frame into which a person
straps himself. T h e frame is h u n g from a short rope, so slight
motions cause it to rock in erratic patterns. T h i s produces
anomalous patterns of input for the occupant to process: some
interoceptors tell him he is standing u p and therefore needs to
exert certain muscular actions to maintain this posture, but other
interoceptors tell him he is relaxed a n d not making these mus-
cular actions. Other interoceptive senses indicate that he is
moving and must do things to maintain his balance, but these
are in conflict with other interoceptive sensations that he is
Subsystems 97
passive. Since he is not used to such an anomalous, conflicting

pattern of stimulation, it can greatly disrupt I n p u t Processing.
Input Processing
Before reaching awareness, all i n p u t data, whether interocep-

tive or exteroceptive, normally goes through various degrees of
processing. T h e Input-Processing subsystem consists of a complex,
interlocking series of totally automatic processes that compares
incoming data against previously learned material stored in
memory, rejects much of the data as irrelevant, selects some of
them as important enough to deserve f u r t h e r processing, trans-
forms and abstracts these important data, and passes this abstrac-
tion along to awareness. T h u s , a m a j o r function of Input-
Processing is rejection. At any given instant, you are generally
bombarded by an enormous quantity of sensory data of all sorts.
Most of the data is not important in terms of defined needs, such
as your biological survival. Since your ability to handle informa-
tion a n d awareness is limited, you would be overwhelmed if all
this mass of incoming data came through. Instead, you receive a
small abstraction of incoming information that is important by
personal and consensus reality standards.
Input-Processing is totally automatic. Look at this thing that is
in your hands with the question, " W h a t is it?" in your mind.
Immediately you see a book. You did not have the experience of
seeing a whitish rectangular object with dark spots on it. You did
not further experience these spots as being arranged in lines, and
the individual spots as having distinctive characteristics, which
you then, by painstaking examination, arranged into words and
sentences, and so concluded that this was a book in your hands.
No, the recognition of this thing as a book was instantaneous and
automatic. T o demonstrate how automatic the processing is, look
at the book again a n d try to see it as simply a collection of
incoming, assorted stimuli instead of as a book.
Unless you have some unusual abilities, you find it very diffi-
cult to see this object as anything but a book.
Numerous psychological studies have focused o n the way per-
ception is automated. Many of these studies have mistakenly
assumed they were studying the "accuracy" of perception. W h a t
they were usually studying was the agreement with consensus
reality standards for perceiving things. An immediate, automatic
82
perception of socially defined reality is taken as being "realistic"
and as a sign of a "good observer."
T h u s , Input-Processing is a learned behavior, probably the
most complex a h u m a n being has to acquire. T h i n k of the
n u m b e r of connections among stimuli and the n u m b e r of re-
sponses associated with the various stimuli that an infant must
learn before he can be said to "think." T h e task is staggering.
T h e infant must learn to perceive instantly and automatically
all m a j o r features of consensus reality as his parents, peers, and
teachers do. T h i s means that an immense a m o u n t of information
must be stored in memory (it does not matter whether it is stored
in the Memory subsystem or in a special Input-Processing mem-
ory) a n d be almost instantly available to Input-Processing. T o t a l
automation of the process is equated with efficiency: if I have to
struggle to identify an object, I feel stupid; b u t if I recognize it
right away, I feel competent and smart.
In relation to the enculturation process, we discussed the fact
that a child has more options for his consciousness than a teen-
ager or an adult. T h i s is another way of saying that the automa-
tization of Input-Processing and its efficiency become comprehen-
sive with increasing age, until by the time we are adults almost
everything in our world is instantly recognized and dealt with
"appropriately." An adult sees things almost exclusively in a
culturally approved way and makes culturally approved re-
sponses. Rigidity increases with age: that is what T i m o t h y Leary
meant when he said, "Don't trust anyone over thirty." T h e
statement is overgeneralized, but it does contain an important
psychological truth: older people are liable to be less able to see
things differently from the way they have always been accus-
tomed to seeing them.
Numerous psychological studies show variations in Input-
Processing that are related to differences within consensus reality.
An early study of perception, for example, showed that poor
children tend to perceive coins as physically larger than rich
children do. People with strong religious values tend to pick u p
words and other stimuli relating to religion more readily
than they do those relating to economics, and vice versa. People
with neuroses or psychoses tend to be especially sensitive to
certain stimuli that trigger their neurotic structures and to dis-
tort perception in ways that fit these neurotic structures. Projec-
Subsystems 99
tive tests, in which the subject is shown a relatively ambiguous

stimulus like an ink blot and asked to describe what he sees, are a
way of investigating the underlying structures of Input-Process-
ing. If he repeatedly sees a murdered baby in several different
ink blots, we might begin to wonder about the way he has dealt
with aggression in his life or about his feelings toward his
parents.
In terms of the basic concepts of attention/awareness, psycho-
logical energy, and structure, Input-Processing represents a large
n u m b e r of structures, each specialized in responding to certain
kinds of stimulus patterns. It has a certain a m o u n t of psychologi-
cal energy always available, so that this active set of structures
almost always stands between you and your senses. Input-Process-
ing is automatized in the sense that the structures always draw
energy of some sort when activated and process information in a
relatively fixed way before passing this information o n to
awareness.
T h e ubiquity of Input-Processing is a main reason I have
elsewhere distinguished consciousness from awareness. Some kind
of "pure" awareness may be a basic from which we start, but
ordinarily we experience consciousness, awareness as it is vastly
modified by the machinery of the mind. H e r e Input-Processing in
effect places a n u m b e r of structures between us and our sensory
input, and even our sensory input comes through the Exterocep-
tion and Interoception subsystems, which are themselves struc-
tures with characteristics of their own. O t h e r subsystems are also
structures that modify or pattern basic awareness into conscious-
ness. T h e systems diagram presented as Figure 8-1 shows aware-
ness in a distinct place, but it really spreads through the various
subsystems and so becomes consciousness.
T h e main function of Input-Processing, then, is abstraction.
T h i s subsystem is rather like a vast organization that keeps track
of an industry's progress and problems and, through hierarchical
chains, passes o n only the most abstracted reports to the presi-
dent of the company.
Input-Processing also generalizes, gives a familiar abstracted
o u t p u t to unfamiliar situations that are reasonably close to par-
ticular perceptions that have been learned. T h u s you recognize
this object as a book even though you have never seen this
particular book before: it is similar enough to other books to
have that label automatically applied to it. T h i s kind of gen-

eralization may be greatly affected by dominant needs and
emotions: all apples look alike to a hungry man.
Various aspects of Input-Processing can show extremely large

changes in various d-ASCs. T h e r e are large quantitative changes:
that is, the range of continuous changes in various aspects of
Input-Processing may be greater or less than in your ordinary d-
SoC. Your ability to focus attention on particular percepts, for
example, may be quantitatively greater or quantitatively less in
various d-ASCs.
T h e r e are also many important qualitative changes that may
be experienced as entirely new modes of perception. Some of
these may be the activation of latent h u m a n potentials. Patterns
may be seen in ordinarily ambiguous data, making it obviously
meaningful. An important effect of m a r i j u a n a intoxication, for
example, is the ability to look at normally ambiguous material,
such as the grain pattern in a sheet of wood, and see it as an
actual picture. New shades of color are reported in various d-
ASCs, new qualities to sound. W e shall reserve judgment for the
moment on whether these are veridical with respect to the actual
stimulating objects.
Apparently fixed properties of perceptual organization may
change in various d-ASCs as Input-Processing changes. Carlos
Castaneda [9] for example, describes how Don J u a n taught him
how to turn into a crow while he was intoxicated with a hal-
lucinogenic plant: an outstanding aspect of this experience was
that his visual field from each eye became split, so that he had
two quite different fields, just as if his eyes were on separate sides
of his head, instead of the usual overlapping, integrated field.
Illusions and hallucinations, frequently reported in d-ASCs,
represent important changes in Input-Processing. T h e conven-
tional definition of illusion is a misinterpretation of a stimulus
that is actually there, as, for example, when o n entering a dimly
lit room you mistake a coat hanging on a rack for a person.
Hallucination is conventionally defined as a vision of something
that is not there at all, as, for example, when on entering the
same dimly lit room you see a person, even though the room is
empty. While it is easy to distinguish these two extremes, there is
obviously a c o n t i n u u m between them: there is always a certain
Subsystems 101
a m o u n t of r a n d o m neural firing in your retina, a "something"

there.
I n a more general sense, we must realize that "misperception"
and "what is and is not there" are usually defined in terms of
consensus reality. W e may hope that o u r consensus reality has a
high degree of accuracy with respect to physical reality, b u t to
assume automatically that it does is to be very parochial. If one
person hears a given piece of music as exceptionally beautiful in
its melody, a n d another hears it as quite common, was the first
person suffering an illusion, or was he really more perceptive?
W e must be particularly careful in dealing with many phenom-
ena from d-ASCs that o u r consensus reality automatically defines
as hallucinatory. Should we have so much faith in the conceptual
schemes evolved in our ordinary d-SoC that we automatically
dismiss anything that does not fit with them? It is bad science to
continue to do so.
An illusion, then, is Input-Processing's interpretation of a
stimulus in a way that does not match consensus reality stand-
ards. W h e t h e r the interpretation added by the illusion is a richer
a n d more accurate perception of a stimulus pattern, or a more
distorted and less accurate one, varies with individual cases. I n
terms of d-ASCs we know about, my general impression is that
they possess the property of making o u r perception more accurate
in some ways and less accurate in others.
A hallucination is a functioning of Input-Processing whereby
stored information is drawn from Memory, worked over by Input-
Processing, and passed along to awareness as if it were sensory
data. T h e special label or quality that identifies the source of this
vivid image as Memory is missing; the quality that identifies it as
a sensory stimulus is present. Depending on the type of d-ASC, a
hallucination may completely dominate perception, totally
wiping out all sensory input coming through Input-Processing, or
may be mixed with processed sensory data. T h e intensity of the
hallucination may be as great as that of ordinary sensory infor-
mation, even greater, or less.
An interesting dimension of variability of Input-Processing in
d-ASCs is the degree to which it can be voluntarily altered. T h e
degree of control may be high or low. I recall participating in
some experiments on the effect of psilocybin, a psychedelic like
LSD, when I was a graduate student. While intoxicated by the
drug, I had to sort through a batch of file cards, each of which
contained a statement of various possible symptoms. If I was
experiencing the symptom, I was to p u t the card in the " t r u e "
pile, if I was not, in the "false" pile. I quickly f o u n d that I could
make almost every statement true if I so desired, simply by
reading it several times. I would pick u p a statement like "My
palms are sweating green sweat," think that would be an inter-
esting experience, reread the statement several times, and then
look at my hands and see that, sure enough, they were sweating
green sweat! I could read a statement like " T h e top of my head is
soft" several times and feel the top of my head become soft!
T h u s , while intoxicated with psilocybin my degree of voluntary
control over Input-Processing became very large, sufficiently to
create both illusions and hallucinations by merely focusing
attention/awareness energy o n the desired outcome.
Another type of variation that can occur in Input-Processing in
d-ASCs is the partial or total blocking of input from exterocep-
tors or interoceptors. T h e d-ASC of deep hypnosis is an example.
O n e can suggest to a talented, deeply hypnotized subject that he
is blind, that he cannot feel pain, that he cannot hear, and
experientially this will be so. T h e subject will not respond to a
light or to objects shown him, and both during the d-ASC and
afterward in his ordinary d-SoC, will swear that he perceived
nothing. His eyes are still obviously functioning, and evoked
brain responses recorded from the scalp show that input is travel-
ing over the sensory nerves from his eye to his brain, but at the
stage of Input-Processing the input is cut off so it does not reach
awareness. Similarly, analgesia to pain may be induced in hyp-
nosis and other d-ASCs.
W h e n input is completely blocked in Input-Processing, there
may or may not be a substitution of other input. T h u s informa-
tion may be drawn from Memory to substitute a hallucination
for the actual blocked information. If, for example, a deeply
hypnotized subject is told that he cannot see a particular person
who is in the room, he may not simply experience a blank when
looking at that person (which sometimes h a p p e n s ) , he may
actually hallucinate the details of the room behind the person
and thus see no anomalous area in his visual field at all.
Another important change in d-ASCs is that, experientially,
there may seem to be less Input-Processing, less abstracting, so a
person feels more in touch with the raw, unprocessed input from
Subsystems 103
his environment. T h i s is especially striking with the psychedelics
and is also reported as an aftereffect of concentrative medita-
tion and as a direct effect of opening-up meditation. I know of no
experimental studies that have thoroughly investigated whether
one can actually be more aware of raw sensory data, b u t this is
certainly a strong experiential feeling. It is not necessarily true,
however. Vivid illusions can be mistaken for raw sensory data or
(probably what happens) there can be a mixture of greater
perception of raw data and more illusion substituted. W h e t h e r
there is any particular d-ASC in which the balance is generally
toward better perception through less abstracting is u n k n o w n at
present.
Psychedelic-drug-induced conditions are particularly note-
worthy for the experience of feeling in contact with the raw data
of perception, and this makes perceptions exceptionally beauti-
ful, vibrant, a n d alive. By contrast, usual perception in the
ordinary d-SoC seems lifeless, abstract, with all the beauty of
reality removed to satisfy various needs and blend in with con-
sensus reality.
Also reported in d-ASCs is an experience of feeling more in
touch with the actual machinery of Input-Processing, gaining
some insight or direct experience of how the abstracting processes
work. For example, I was once watching a snowfall through a
window at night, with a brilliant white spotlight on the roof
illuminating the falling snow. I was in an unusually quiet state
of m i n d (it was too brief for me to decide whether it was a d-
ASC), and suddenly I noticed that instead of simply watching
white snow fall (my usual experience), I was seeing each snow-
flake glinting and changing with all colors of the spectrum. I felt
strongly that an automated Input-Processing activity that makes
snow white had temporarily broken down. Afterward, it struck
me that this was likely, for white is actually all the colors of the
spectrum combined by Exteroception (eyes) and Input-Process-
ing to the sensation of white. T h u s a snowflake actually reflects
all the colors of the spectrum, and active "doing" (to use
Don J u a n ' s term) on the viewer's part is required to turn it into
white. T h e r e is n o light energy of "white" in the physicist's world.
Similarly, persons have reported gaining insights into how vari-
ous automatic processes organize their perception by being able
to see the lack of organization of it or by seeing the alternative
organizations that occur.
Synesthesia is another radical change in Input-Processing that

sometimes takes place in some d-ASCs. Stimulation of one sense is
perceived in awareness as though a different sense had been
stimulated at the same time. For example, hearing music is
accompanied by seeing colored forms. T h i s is the most common
and perhaps the most beautiful form of synesthesia, and is some-
times reported with m a r i j u a n a intoxication.
All techniques for inducing d-ASCs, except drug or physiologi-

cal effects that act directly on various bodily functions, must
work through Input-Processing. T h a t subsystem mediates all
communication. Yet it is useful to distinguish between induction
techniques that are primarily designed to disrupt stabilization of
the b-SoC in some other subsystem without significantly affecting
Input-Processing per se, and those that are designed to disrupt
Input-Processing directly as a way of destabilizing the b-SoC.
I n this latter class is a wide variety of techniques designed to
give a person input that is uncanny in terms of the familiar ways
of processing i n p u t in the b-SoC. T h e i n p u t is uncanny, anom-
alous in a sense of seeming familiar yet being dissimilar enough
in various ways to engender a pronounced feeling of nonfitting.
O f t e n the events are associated with an emotional charge or a
feeling of significance that makes the fact that they do not fit
even more important. Don J u a n , for example, in training Carlos
Castaneda to attain various d-ASCs would often frighten Casta-
neda or destabilize his ordinary state to an extraordinary degree
by doing something that seemed almost, but not quite, familiar,
such as simply acting normally but with subtle differences at
various points.
T h e use of uncanny stimuli is not limited to inducing a d-ASC
from an ordinary d-SoC; it can work in reverse. W h e n a person
talks about "being brought d o w n " from a valued d-ASC, he
means he is presented with stimulation patterns that Input-
Processing cannot handle in that d-ASC, so the d-ASC is destabi-
lized, and he returns to his ordinary d-SoC.
Memory
T h e Memory subsystem is concerned with information storage,

with containing residues of past experiences that are drawn u p o n
in the present. Memory is thus a large number of semipermanent
Subsystems 114
changes caused by past experience. W e can think of Memory as
structures, presumably in the brain (but perhaps also in the
body structure), which, when activated, produce certain kinds of
information. And we should not assume that there is just one
Memory; there is probably a special kind of memory for almost
every subsystem.
Conventional psychological views of Memory also often divide
memory functioning into short-term or immediate memory,
medium-term memory, and long-term memory. Short-term mem-
ory is the special memory process that holds information about
sensory input and internal processes for a few seconds at the most.
Unless it is transferred to a longer-term memory, this information
is apparently lost. T h u s , as you look at a crowd, searching for a
friend's face for a short time, you may remember a lot of details
about the crowd. T h e n you find your friend's face, and the
details about the crowd are lost. T h e r e is no point in storing
them forever. T h i s short-term memory is probably an electrical
activity within the brain structure that dies out after a few
seconds: no long-term structural changes occur. Once the electri-
cal activity dies out, the information stored in the pattern or in
the electrical activity is gone forever.
Medium-term memory is storage of from minutes to a day or
so. It probably involves partial structural changes as well as
patterns of energy circulation. You can probably recall what you
had for breakfast yesterday morning, b u t in a few days you will
not remember the contents of that meal.
Long-term memory involves semipermanent structural changes
that allow you to recall things experienced a n d learned a long
time ago.
T h i s division into short-, medium-, a n d long-term memory is of
interest because these kinds of memories may be differentially
affected during d-ASCs. At high levels of m a r i j u a n a intoxication,
for example, short-term memory is clearly affected [105], al-
though long-term memory may not be. Thjus, a m a r i j u a n a user
often reports forgetting the beginning of a conversation he is
engaged in, but he continues to speak English. T h e r e is little more
we can say about differential effects of various d-ASCs on these
three kinds of memory, as they have not yet been adequately
studied. T h e y offer a fruitful field for research.
A most important aspect of Memory subsystem functioning in
various d-ASCs is the phenomenon of state-specific memory. I n a
n u m b e r of studies, subjects learned various materials while in d-
ASCs, usually drug-induced, a n d were tested for retention of
these materials in a subsequent ordinary d-SoC. Generally, reten-
tion was poor. T h e researchers concluded that things were not
stored well in Memory in various d-ASCs. It is now clear that
these studies must be reevaluated. Memory is specific. T h e way in
which information is stored, or the kind of Memory it is stored
in, is specific to the d-SoC the material was learned in. T h e
material may be stored, but may not transfer to another state. If
material is learned in a d-ASC and its retention tested in another
d-SoC and found to be poor, the nonretention may indicate
either an actual lack of storage of the information or a state-
specific memory and lack of transfer. T h e proper way to test is to
reinduce the d-ASC in which the material was learned and see
how much material is retained in that state. State-specific mem-
ory has been repeatedly demonstrated in animals, although the
criterion for the existence of a "state" in such studies is simply
that the animals were drugged to a known degree, a criterion not
very useful with humans, as explained later.
T h e r e is now experimental evidence that for high levels of
alcohol intoxication there is definite state-specific memory in
h u m a n s [21]. It is an experimental demonstration of the old folk
idea that if you lose something while very d r u n k a n d cannot find
it the next day, you may be able to find it if you get very d r u n k
again and then search. Experiential data collected in my study of
marijuana users [105] also indicate the existence of state-specific
memory, and I have recently received verbal reports that labora-
tory studies are finding state-specific memory for marijuana in-
toxication. T h e r e also seems to be state-specific memory for the
conditions induced by m a j o r psychedelic drugs.
State-specific memory can be readily constructed for hypnosis;
that is, state-specific memory may not occur naturally for hypno-
sis, but it can be made to occur. If you tell a hypnotized subject he
will remember everything that h a p p e n e d in hypnosis when he
comes back to his ordinary state such will be his experience. O n
the other hand, if you tell a deeply hypnotized subject he will
remember nothing of what went on during hypnosis or that he will
remember certain aspects of the experience but not others, this
will also be the case when he returns to his ordinary state. I n any
event he will recall the experiences the next time he is hypno-
tized. T h i s is not a pure case of state-specific memory, however,
Subsystems 107
because amnesia for hypnotic experiences in the waking state can

be eliminated by a prearranged cue as well as by reinducing the
hypnosis.
Another excellent example of state-specific memory is that
occurring in spiritualist mediums. A medium enters a d-ASC in
which his ordinary consciousness and sense of identity appear to
blank out for a time. H e may report wandering in what may be
loosely called a dreaming state. Meanwhile, a n alleged spirit en-
tity ostensibly possesses him a n d acts as if it has full consciousness.
U p o n returning to a normal state, the medium usually has total
amnesia regarding the events of the d-ASC. T h e alleged spirit
communicator, however, usually shows perfect continuity of mem-
ory from state to state. 2
1 suspect that state-specific Memory subsystems will be dis-
covered for many or most d-ASCs, but the necessary research has
not been done. T h e kinds of state-specific memories may vary in
completeness. T h e ones we know of now—from m a r i j u a n a in-
toxication, for example—are characterized by transfer of some
information to the ordinary d-SoC b u t nontransfer of other in-
formation, the latter often being the most essential a n d important
aspects of the d-ASC experience.
Ordinarily, when we think of Memory we think of information
becoming accessible to awareness, becoming part of conscious-
ness, b u t we should note that we "remember" many things even
though we have n o awareness of them. Your current behavior is
affected by a m u l t i t u d e of things you have learned in the past
b u t which you are not aware of as memories. You walk across the
room a n d your motion is determined by a variety of memories,
even though you do not think of them as memories.
Note also that you can remember things you were not initially
aware of. W h e n you scan a crowd looking for a friend's face, you
2
The d-ASC or d-ASCs entered into by spiritualist mediums are a promising,
but almost totally neglected field of research. Scientists have generally avoided
having anything to do with mediums as a result of a priori dismissal of the
claims made for survival of bodily death. The few scientists (parapsychol-
ogists) who have studied mediums have been concerned with whether the
alleged surviving entities can provide evidence that they actually had an
earthly existence, and whether this evidence could be explained by othei
hypotheses than postmortem survival. The nature of the medium's trance
state per se is virtually unknown, yet it is clearly one of the most profound
d-ASCs known and has tremendous effects on its experiencers. I mention this
to alert researchers to an opportunity for learning a great deal with even a
small investment of decent effort.
may be consciously aware of hardly any details of other faces,
being sensitive only to your friend's. A m i n u t e later, when asked
to recall something about the crowd, however, you may be able
to recall a lot of information about it. For this reason, Figure 8 - 1
shows a direct information flow arrow from Input-Processing to
Memory. W e store in Memory not only things that have been in
awareness, b u t also things that were never much in awareness to
begin with.
An interesting quality of information retrieved from Memory
is that we generally know, at least implicitly, that we are retriev-
ing memories. We do not confuse these with sensations or
thoughts. Some kind of operating signal or extra informational
quality seems to be attached to the memory information itself
that says " T h i s is a memory." T h e r e is a n intriguing analogy for
this. In the early days of radio, when a newscast tuned you in to a
foreign correspondent, there was a n obvious change in the qual-
ity of the audio signal, a change that you associated with a
foreign correspondent broadcasting over a long distance on short
wave. T h e sound was tinny, the volume faded in and out, there
were hisses and crackles. T h i s was a noninformational extra that
became so associated in listeners' minds with hearing a real
foreign correspondent that many radio stations resorted to the
trick of deliberately a d d i n g this kind of distortion years later
when communication technology had improved so much that the
foreign correspondent's voice sounded as if he was actually in the
studio. T h e added distortions made the listeners feel they were
indeed hearing a faraway reporter and made the broadcast seem
more genuine. Similarly, memory information is usually accom-
panied by a quality that indentifies it as memory. T h e quality
may be implicit: if you are searching actively for various things
in your Memory, you need not r e m i n d yourself that you are
looking at memories.
T h i s extra informational quality of memory can sometimes be
detached from Memory operation per se. It is possible to have a
fantasy, for example, with the "this is a memory" quality at-
tached, in which you mistakenly believe you are remembering
something instead of just fantasizing it. Or, the quality may be
attached in a d-ASC to a n incoming sensory perception, trigger-
ing the experience of ddja vu, the feeling that you have seen this
before. T h u s you may be touring in a city you have never visited
and it all looks very familiar; you are convinced you remember
Subsystems 118
what it is like because of the presence of the "this is a memory"

quality. 3
W h e n information is actually drawn from Memory without
the quality "this is a memory" attached, interesting things can
h a p p e n in various d-ASCs. Hallucinations, for example, are in-
formation drawn from Memory without the memory quality
attached, but with the quality " T h i s is a perception" attached.
Much of the functioning of the Sense of Identity subsystem
(discussed later) occurs via the Memory subsystem. Your sense of
who you are is closely related to the possession of certain mem-
ories. If the "this is a memory" quality is eliminated from those
memories so that they become just data, your sense of identity
can be strongly affected.
Other variations of Memory subsystem functioning occur in
various d-ASCs. T h e ease with which desired information can be
retrieved from Memory varies so that in some d-ASCs it seems
hard to remember what you want, in others it seems easier than
usual. T h e richness of the information retrieved varies in differ-
ent d-ASCs, so that sometimes you remember only sketchily, a n d
at other times in great detail. T h e search pattern for retrieving
memories also varies. If you have to go through a fairly complex
research procedure to find a particular memory, you may end u p
with the wrong memories or associated memories rather than
what you were looking for. If you want to remember a n old
friend's name, for example, you may fail to recall the name but
remember his birthday.
Finally, we should note that a great many things are stored in
Memory but not available in the ordinary d-SoC. T h e emotional
charge connected with those memories makes them unacceptable
in the ordinary d-SoC, a n d so defense mechanisms repress or
distort o u r recall of such information. I n various d-ASCs the
nature of the defense mechanisms may change or their intensity
of functioning may alter, allowing the memories to become
more or less available.
Subconscious
T h e Subconscious is usually defined as representing mental

processes or phenomena that occur outside conscious awareness
3 Note that while this is probably the cause of most Mjd. vu experiences,
some kinds of dejct vu may actually represent paranormal experience.
82
and that ordinarily cannot become conscious. They are p a r t of
the mind, b u t not conscious. How d o we know they exist if we
cannot be consciously aware of them? W e infer their existence:
we observe certain aspects of our own a n d others' functioning
that cannot be adequately explained o n the basis of o u r or their
immediately available conscious experiences, and we infer that
forces or phenomena outside consciousness are affecting it—from
behind the scenes, as it were. T h u s , from the viewpoint of our
ordinary d-SoC, the Subconscious subsystem is a hypothesis, an
inferential construct needed to explain conscious behavior. A
psychoanalyst, for example, observes that a patient becomes pale
and trembles every time he speaks of his brother, yet when
questioned about him says they have a good relationship. T h e
psychoanalyst hypothesizes that in the patient's Subconscious
there is a good deal of unresolved anxiety and anger toward the
brother.
T h e emphasis here is that subconscious processes occur outside
awareness from the viewpoint of the ordinary d-SoC. W h a t is
subconsciousness from the reference point of the ordinary d-SoC
may become conscious in d-ASCs.
I deliberately use the term .subconscious rather than the more
commonly employed unconscious to avoid the strictly psycho-
analytic connotations of unconscious mind. T h e classical, Freud-
ian unconscious (the sexual and aggressive instincts a n d their
sublimations a n d repressions) is included in the Subconscious
subsystem described here. T h e Subconscious also includes cre-
ative processes, the kinds of things we vaguely call intuition and
hunches, tender a n d loving feelings that may be just as inhibited
in their expression as sexual and aggressive ones, and other
factors influencing conscious behavior. All these things are mys-
terious a n d poorly understood by our conscious minds.
Also included as subconscious processes for many of us are the
kinds of thinking that are now called right hemisphere modal-
ities of thinking [47]. T h e type of thinking associated with the
right hemisphere seems holistic rather than analytic, atemporal
rather than sequential in time, more concerned with patterns
than with details. But for many of us in whom intellectual,
sequential, rational development has been overstressed a n d this
other mode inhibited or ignored, this right hemisphere thinking
is largely subconscious.
120
Subsystems
D-ASCs may alter the relationship between what is conscious
and what is subconscious. Figure 8 - 2 expresses this idea. I n the
ordinary d-SoC, it is convenient to think of the conscious part of
the m i n d as the part that is in the full focus of consciousness or is
readily available to such consciousness, to think of a precon-
scious part that is ordinarily not in the full focus of consciousness
but can be made so with little effort, and a Subconscious subsys-
tem that is ordinarily completely cut off from conscious aware-
ness even though special techniques, such as psychoanalytic ones,
give inferential information about it. I have followed the general
psychoanalytic conventions (1) of showing the Subconscious as
the largest part of the mind, to indicate that the largest portion
of experience and behavior is probably governed by subconscious
forces we are not aware of, and (2) of showing the conscious and
preconscious parts of the m i n d as about equal in size. T h e
barrier between conscious and preconscious has many "holes" in
it while the Subconscious is relatively inaccessible. For example,
if you dislike someone and I ask you to think about why you
dislike him, a little thought may show you that the reasons
behind your immediate dislike result from a synthesis of the per-
son's appearance and some unpleasant experiences you previously
have had with people of that appearance. These reasons might
actually be based o n deeply buried subconscious feelings that all
people of the same sex are rivals for mother's affection, things
you ordinarily cannot become aware of without special thera-
peutic techniques.
Preconscious and subconscious contents may be more or less
readily available in a d-ASC, depending on the d-ASC. I n d-ASC
1 in Figure 8-2, more of the mind and preconscious material are
directly in consciousness and less are in the Subconscious subsys-
tem. This, incidentally, is one of the dangers of experiencing a d-
ASC: a person may be overwhelmed by emotionally charged
material, normally subconscious, that he is not ready to handle.
T h i s can h a p p e n with m a r i j u a n a intoxication or other psyche-
delic-drug-induced states, as well as with meditative states or
hypnosis. I n all these states things that are ordinarily precon-
scious or subconscious may become conscious.
D-ASC 2 illustrates the kind of state in which things that are
ordinarily conscious may become preconscious or subconscious.
Certain drug-induced states or other d-ASCs that tend toward
82
Figure 8-2. Possible changes in relationship among conscious, pre-

conscious, and subconscious subsystems.
stupor might fit in this category, where consciousness feels quite

restricted and dull, even though the subject's behavior suggests
that previously conscious material is still affecting him. T h e
alcoholic blackout state is interesting in this context, for the
person seems to behave "normally" in many ways, indicating that
much ordinarily conscious knowledge is still present, even
though this is a blackout in terms of later recall.
D-ASC 3 represents various d-ASCs in which much subconscious
material might become preconscious: it will not necessarily well
u p by itself, b u t it is much more readily available than ordi-
narily. T h u s the potential for exploring the mind is greater, but
effort must still be exerted. M a r i j u a n a intoxication can do this.
In terms of overall system functioning, I have shown a direct
122
Subsystems
information flow arrow from Input-Processing to the Subcon-
scious, and a feedback control arrow from the Subconscious to
Input-Processing. Processed input information may reach the
Subconscious and have effects even when it does not reach aware-
ness. T o use again the example of scanning the crowd, even
though you are consciously looking for your friend's face, the
impact of another face may trigger subconscious processes be-
cause of resemblance to someone emotionally meaningful to you,
and may produce later effects o n you even though you were not
consciously aware of seeing that particular person.
T h e feedback control arrow from Subconscious to Input-
Processing indicates that the Subconscious subsystem may have
a m a j o r control over perception. O u r likes and dislikes, needs
and fears, can affect what we see. T h i s kind of selectivity in per-
ception is discussed in relation to the Input-Processing subsystem.
I bring it u p here to indicate a distinction between relatively
permanent, learned selectivities of perception that are inherent
in Input-Processing itself, such as ability to recognize words, and
selectivities that are more dependent on the current emotional
state of the Subconscious subsystem, and so may show more varia-
tion from time to time. For example, we have many permanent
learnings that are part of Input-Processing and that enable us
to distinguish men from women at a glance. But we have sexual
needs that peak from time to time, and these may be partially or
wholly in the Subconscious subsystem because of cultural re-
pressive pressures. As these repressed needs vary, they affect Input-
Processing and change o u r current perceptions of people of the
opposite sex: they can become much more attractive when we are
aroused.
We should also briefly note the possibility of the activation of
archetypes from the Collective Unconscious d u r i n g d-ASCs. T h e
terms archetypes and Collective Unconscious are used in Carl
Jung's sense. T h e Collective Unconscious refers to a large body of
biologically inherited psychological structures, most of which
remains latent h u m a n potentials. Particular structures are arche-
types, innate patterns that can emerge a n d dominate conscious-
ness because of the high psychic energy residing in them if the
right stimuli for activation occur. Myths of heroic quests,
demons, gods, energies, God, Christ, are held by J u n g to be
particular archetypes from the Collective Unconscious, which
express themselves at various times in h u m a n history. It would
82
take far too much space here to give them adequate considera-
tion; the interested reader should refer to the collected works of
Carl Jung. It should be noted, however, that some d-ASCs fre-
quently facilitate the emergence of archetypes.
Evaluation and Decision-Making

T h e Evaluation a n d Decision-Making subsystem refers to those
intellectual, cognitive processes with which we deliberately
evaluate the meaning of things a n d decide what to do about
them. 4 It is the subsystem constituting our thinking, our prob-
lem-solving, our understanding. It is where we apply a logic to
data presented to us a n d reach a conclusion as a result of process-
ing the data in accordance with that logic.
Note that a logic is a self-contained, arbitrary system. T w o and
two do not make four in any "real" sense; they make four
because they have been defined that way. T h a t a particular logic
is highly useful in dealing with the physical world should not
blind us to the fact that it is basically a n arbitrary, self-con-
tained, assumptive system. T h u s , when I define the Evaluation
a n d Decision-Making subsystem as processing information in
accordance with a logic, I do not intend to give it a n ultimate
validity, b u t just to note that there is an assumptive system,
heavily influenced by culture a n d personal history, which pro-
cesses data. I n our ordinary d-SoC there may actually be several
different logics applied at various times. I might apply the logic
of calculus to certain kinds of problems in electronics, but not to
problems of interpersonal relationships.
We should also note, as honest self-observation will reveal, that
much of what passes as rationality in o u r ordinary d-SoC is in
fact rationalization. We want something, so we make u p "good"
reasons for having it.
T h e discussion that follows is confined to intellectual, con-
scious evaluation a n d decision-making. Some aspects of this
become automated and go on in the fringes of awareness, but
they are potentially available to full consciousness should we
turn o u r attention to them. O t h e r subsystems, such as Emotions
and the Subconscious, also evaluate data, classify them as good or
< Much meaning is automatically supplied by Input-Processing: when you

see a stop sign, you need not consciously evaluate its meaning.
124
Subsystems
DOES NOT MAKE SENSE

NO ACTION
MEMORY
Ak
C R I T E R I A FOR
V A L U E O ACTIONS
INPUTS-
PROCESSING
TTTTT
SITUATION
ttttt
SITUATION
FEEDBACK LOOP;.
ACTION MODIFIES SITUATION LEADING
- T O FURTHER EVALUATION
Figure 8-3. Steps in a typical evaluation and decision-making process.
bad, threatening or benign, etc. W e are not concerned with these

here, however; we shall consider only conscious, intellectual
kinds of decision-making and evaluation.
Figure 8 - 3 illustrates the typical operation of the Evaluation
and Decision-Making subsystem for the ordinary d-SoC. T h e
process starts (lower left-hand corner) when you encounter some
kind of problem situation in life. T h e stimuli from this situation,
coming in via the Exteroception subsystem, are subjected to a
large amount of Input-Processing, and some abstraction of the
situation reaches your awareness. Assume this initial abstraction
is puzzling: it doesn't make sense to you and you d o n ' t know
what to do. So the Evaluation and Decision-Making subsystem
draws u p o n information stored in the Memory subsystem in
order to evaluate it. Figure 8 - 3 shows information both coming
from Memory and going to Memory to guide the retrieval of
memory information, making it selective and relevant. Further
assume that, given the presented information and what is avail-
able in Memory, the situation still makes only partial sense. You
decide to seek more information. Controlling information is sent
to Input-Processing to produce more information about the
situation, to look at it from another angle. Getting this further
information, you again compare it against what you already
know, and one of two sequences results. If the situation still does
not make sense, and you have no way of getting f u r t h e r informa-
tion, you may take the option, shown by the upward-slanting
arrow, of simply not acting on the situation for the time being. If
it does make sense, in accordance with whatever logic you are
using, you can then consult your memory for criteria for valued
or appropriate kinds of actions, given your understanding of the
situation, and then act in that appropriate way. Your action
modifies the situation, which changes the data reaching you from
the situation through Exteroception and Input-Processing, and
the whole process may be repeated. Continuous cycling through
this sort of process is what we call thinking and action.
In the ordinary d-SoC, the operation of the Evaluation and
Decision-Making subsystem is often hyperactive to the point of
constituting noise—noise in the sense that the overinvestment of
attention/awareness energy in this process lowers the ability to
notice and deal with other sources of relevant information. You
cannot hear your senses over the noise of your thoughts. T h e
cycle shown in Figure 8 - 3 tends to be endless and self-perpetuat-
ing. Something happens, you think about it, reach a decision,
and act, which changes the situation and makes you reevaluate
it. O r you do not act, but thinking about it reminds you of
something else, which reminds you of something else, about
which you make a decision, which results in action that modifies
another situation, which starts more evaluation and association
processes. For example, someone on the street asks me for money,
which starts me thinking about disinterested charity versus the
work ethic ("Why doesn't he get a job? I work for my money.
Maybe he is unfortunate, b u t he could also be too lazy. Maybe
I ' m being manipulated; I've been manipulated before, etc. etc.")
and I'm so involved in this thought process that I d o not notice
various perceptual cues that would inform me about this person's
actual situation and intentions.
Subsystems 126
Earlier, in discussing the stabilization processes that maintain
a state of consciousness I pointed out that this endless thinking
process is a m a j o r source of loading stabilization in an ordinary d-
SoC. It continually reinforces consensus reality, for we tend to
think continuously about the things we have been reinforced for
thinking about, and it absorbs such a large a m o u n t of our
attention/awareness energy that we have little of that energy
available for other processes. T h i s Evaluation and Decision-
Making subsystem activity has an extremely large amount of
psychological inertia: if you are not fully convinced of this, I
suggest that you p u t this book down right now and try to turn
the system off for five minutes. Don't think of anything, don't
evaluate anything for the next five minutes. T h a t also means
don't think about not thinking.
Now, unless you are a rare individual indeed, you have seen
the difficulty of stopping the activity of your Evaluation and
Decision-Making subsystem. T h i s enormous psychological inertia
is excellent for maintaining your social membership in consensus
reality, but if your personality structure a n d / o r consensus reality
is unsatisfactory a n d / o r you wish to explore other d-SoCs besides
your ordinary one, this endless activity of the Evaluation and De-
cision-Making subsystem can be a tremendous liability.
W i t h i n the ordinary d-SoC, there is some quantitative varia-
tion in the activity of the Evaluation and Decision-Making sub-
system. Some days you feel intellectually sharp, and your m i n d is
quick and you solve problems accurately on the first try. Other
days your m i n d seems dull; you fail to grasp things right away,
have to think a lot just to understand elementary points, have a
hard time p u t t i n g things together. T h e r e is also some variation
within the ordinary d-SoC in the overall quantity of thoughts:
some days your thoughts seem to race, other days they are a bit
slower than normal. T h e r e is probably also quantitative varia-
tion in the redundancy of thinking, the degree to which you use
multiple, overlapping processes to check on your own accuracy.
And there is a quantitative variation in the degree to which your
logical evaluation is distorted by emotional factors. W h e n you
are in a situation that activates conscious and subconscious emo-
tions, your logic borders on p u r e rationalization; in a less
threatening situation your logic may be relatively flawless. But
these variations all stay within an expected range that you have
come to think of as your ordinary d-SoC.
14 2
All the above relatively quantitative variations in the func-
tioning of the Evaluation and Decision-Making subsystem may be
exaggerated in various d-ASCs. Your thoughts may seem to race
faster than you can comprehend them; the slowing down or
accuracy of your logic processes can seem much more extreme
than in your ordinary d-SoC. A drunk, for example, may not be
able to think through a simple problem, while someone intoxi-
cated on m a r i j u a n a may have crystal-clear insights into a for-
merly baffling problem. I cannot be more specific about this, as
there has been little quantitative research on it so far. However,
experiential reports suggest that the quantitative variations can
be large.
Even more interesting are qualitative variations in various d-
ASCs. O n e of these is the substitution of a different logic from
one ordinarily used in your b-SoC. Martin O r n e [44] has re-
ported some interesting demonstrations. A deeply hypnotized
subject is given a suggestion—for example, " T h e n u m b e r three
no longer makes any sense, the idea of three is a meaningless
concept." T h e subject is then given various arithmetical prob-
lems such as two plus one equals what? Depending o n subsidiary
assumptions the subject makes, he rapidly evolves a new arith-
metical logic that does not involve the n u m b e r three. T o the
question, " W h a t does two plus one equal?" he answers, "Four."
T o the question, "Six divided by two equals what?" he answers
either, " T w o " or "Four," depending on the subsidiary assump-
tions. T h u s a whole new logic can be readily programmed in the
d-ASC of hypnosis. Various state-specific logics have been re-
ported for meditative and psychedelic states, but they d o not
seem communicable in the ordinary d-SoC.
I n the ordinary d-SoC, we are intolerant of contradictions in
logic; in a d-ASC, tolerance for contradictions may be much
higher. Again, an example from hypnosis is illustrative. I once
suggested to an extremely susceptible subject, while he was in the
hypnotic d-ASC, that mentally he was getting u p from his chair,
going down the hall and outside the laboratory building. H e
described this experience to me as it was happening. H e experi-
enced himself as being in the yard in back of the laboratory,
where he reported seeing a mole come u p to the surface from its
tunnel. I asked him to catch the mole and hold on to it, and he
said he had. Later I had him in his mental journey come back
into the laboratory, walk upstairs, reenter the room where we
Subsystems 126
were sitting, and stand in the middle of the floor. I asked him
what he saw in the room, and he gave a general overall descrip-
tion of the room, omitting any mention of the chair in which he
was sitting. Something like the following dialogue then occurred:
C T : Is there anyone sitting in the chair?

S: I am.
C T : Didn't you just tell me you were standing in the middle
of the room?
S: Yes, I am standing in the middle of the room.
C T : D o you think it's contradictory to tell me you're stand-
ing in the middle of the room and sitting in the chair at the
same time?
S: Yes.
C T : Does the contradiction bother you?
S: No.
CT: Which one of the two selves is your real self?
S: They are both my real self.
T h i s stumped me until I finally thought of another question.
C T : Is there any difference at all between the two selves?

S: Yes, the me standing in the middle of the floor has a mole
in his hands.
It is tempting to view this tolerance for contradictions as a

deterioration in logic, b u t remember that contradiction is itself
defined in terms of a particular logic, and since logics are self-
contained assumptive structures, thinking in a pattern contain-
ing contradictions according to one system of logic may not
necessarily mean that the thinking is useless or absolutely in-
valid. Indeed, some investigators have hypothesized that an in-
creased ability to tolerate contradictions is hecessary for creative
thought. It should also be noted that many people who experi-
ence this ability to tolerate contradictions in d-ASCs believe it to
be a transcendent, superior quality, not necessarily an inferior
one. Sometimes they feel they are using a superior logic. Never-
theless, the ability to tolerate contradictions per se is not neces-
sarily a superior quality.
Since this book is written in ordinary, Western d-SoC logic,
there are difficulties in writing about d-ASC logics. New logics
can emerge, appropriate to a particular d-ASC. New sets
14 2
of (implicit) assumptions and rules for h a n d l i n g information in
accordance with these assumptions seem to be inherent or learn-
able in a particular d-ASC. Within that particular d-ASC, and in
repeated experiences in that d-ASC, these rules may be quite
consistent and logical. But writing about this is difficult because
new state-specific logics may not seem like logics at all in other d-
SoCs. From the viewpoint of some other d-SoC (usually the
ordinary one) the logic of a d-ASC may seem absurd. Yet within
that d-ASC, the logic is apparent, consistent, and useful. T h e
existence of such state-specific logics is obvious to a n u m b e r of
people who have experienced them in d-ASCs: they have not yet
been proved to exist in a way acceptable to ordinary d-SoC
evaluation.
T h e question whether there are state-specific logics or merely
inferior, error-ridden logics in d-ASCs is f u r t h e r complicated by
the tendency of new experiencers of d-ASCs to overvalue their
experiences in those d-ASCs. T h e experiences are so fascinating
and often so emotionally potent in a d-ASC that is new to you
that you tend to accept uncritically everything about it. Clearly,
the sense of " T h i s is a remarkable, obviously true and wonderful
t r u t h " is a parainformational quality, like the quality " T h i s is a
memory" discussed earlier, and can attach itself to various con-
tents regardless of their logical truth value. T h e feeling that
something is true, n o matter how emotionally impressive, is no
guarantee of its truth. T h e final test of whether a state-specific
logic exists for a particular d-ASC will involve not only the
sequential validation and replication of a logic by an individual
experiencer as he reenters a particular d-ASC time after time, b u t
also his ability to communicate that logic to others in that d-ASC
and have them independently validate it, a point elaborated later
in connection with state-specific sciences.
An exciting finding of recent psychological research is the

apparent existence of two discrete modes of cognition associated
with the functioning of the left and right cerebral hemispheres,
respectively [47]. I n the normal person there are a huge n u m b e r
of interconnections via the corpus callosum between these two
hemispheres, and on that physiological basis a person should be
able to alternate between these two modes of thinking quite
readily, choosing whichever is appropriate for a problem. O u r
culture, however, has greatly overvalued the style of thinking
126
Subsystems
associated with left hemisphere activity—linear, sequential,
rational, intellectual, cause-and-effect, analytical thinking. Right
hemisphere functioning seems more concerned with pattern
recognition, with wholes, with simultaneity rather than se-
quence, and with bodily functioning. T h e right hemisphere
mode is more an analog mode than a digital mode. Since each
mode of evaluation is highly valid when appropriately applied to
a problem it is suited for, we become limited and less effective if
we overvalue one mode and apply it to problems more appropri-
ate to the other mode. In the ordinary d-SoC, especially among
Western academics, linear thinking is greatly overvalued, so we
exist in an unbalanced, pathological state. T h e reasoning behind
this is complex, and the interested reader should consult Orn-
stein's The Psychology of Consciousness [47] and the sources he
draws upon.
Many d-ASC experiences seem to reflect a greatly increased use
of the right hemisphere mode of cognition. Experiencers talk of
seeing patterns in things, of simultaneously and instantaneously
grasping relationships they cannot ordinarily grasp, of being
unable to express these things verbally. T h e experience is usually
reported as pleasant and rewarding and often is valued as a
higher or more true form of cognition. Apparently left and right
hemisphere functioning is more balanced or there may even be a
shift to dominance of right hemisphere functioning. T h e
experience does not lend itself to verbal description, but may b e
communicable in other ways, as through music or dance. It
should be noted as a m a j o r shift in the Evaluation and Decision-
Making subsystem that can occur in d-ASCs. 8
I n the ordinary d-SoC, constant, repetitious thinking absorbs a
great deal of attention/awareness energy and acts as a form of
loading stabilization. Since attention/awareness energy is taken
away from this left hemisphere type of activity in d-ASCs, and the
energy becomes more freely available, psychological functions
that are only latent potentials in the ordinary d-SoC may become
noticeable. T h e y are made noticeable not only through the
availability of attention/awareness energy, but also because the
noise of constant thinking is reduced. These new functions may
resemble instincts giving us information about situations or,
s I do not consider right and left hemisphere modes of functioning to be

two d-SoCs themselves, but rather two modes of functioning of the Evaluation
and Decision-Making subsystem. The balance can vary in different d-ASCs.
14 2
since a right hemisphere mode of functioning may emit some of its
o u t p u t in the form of bodily sensations (a hypothesis of mine
that I believe f u t u r e research will validate), they may enhance
sensitivity to such sensations. It is as if in our ordinary d-SoC
we are surrounded by a crowd of people talking and shouting
continually. If they would all quiet down, we might be able to
hear individuals or to hear someone at the edge of the crowd who
is saying something important.
Ordinarily Evaluation and Decision-Making activity consists of

a sequential progression from one thought to another. You think
of something, that draws u p a certain association from memory,
which you then think about; this draws u p another association,
etc. I n this temporal sequence of the Evaluation and Decision-
Making process, the progression from one thought to another,
from association to association to association, is probabilistically
controlled by the particular structures/programming built u p by
enculturation a n d life experience. T h u s , if I say the word red to
you, you are likely to associate some word like blue, green,
yellow, some color word, rather than iguana, or sixteen-penny
nail, or railroad track. T h e association that occurs to any particu-
lar thought is not absolutely determined, but since some associa-
tions are highly likely and others highly unlikely, we could, in
principle, generally predict a person's train of thinking if we
knew the strength of these various associative habits. T h u s , much
of our ordinary thinking/evaluation runs in predictable paths.
These paths of likely associations are a function of the particular
consensus reality we were socialized in.
Figure 8-4 diagrams, with the heavy arrows, ordinary thinking
processes. Given a certain input stimulus for thought, a certain
deduction or conclusion is likely to be reached that will draw
highly probable association 1, which will result in certain deduc-
tions, which will draw u p highly probable memory association 2,
and so on until conclusion 1 is reached. T h e light arrows represent
possible branchings not taken because they are weak, improb-
able, not made highly likely by habits and enculturation.
I n various d-ASCs the rules governing the probability of asso-
ciations change in a systematic a n d / o r random way, and so
progress along a chain of thought becomes much less predictable
by ordinary d-SoC criteria. T h i s is shown by the lower chain of
Subsystems 126
MEMORY MEMORY
ASSOCIATION 1 ASSOCIATION 2
OEDUCTION
Ti DEOUCTION
TI ^ CONCLUSION 1
INPUT
DEDUCTION
ti
MEMORY DEDUCTION
ASSOCIATION 3
t1
MEMORY
ASSOCIATION 4 CONCLUSION 2
Figure 8-4. Steps and choice-points in associative thinking.
light arrows in Figure 8-4. An unlikely association is made to the

same input, which calls u p different memory associations, leading
to different deductions and f u r t h e r memory associatons, etc., until
a quite different conclusion, conclusion 2, is reached. Given the
same presented problem in two d-SoCs, two quite different con-
clusions may result. T h i s is creative, in the sense of being unusual.
Whether it is practically useful is another question.
In some of the more stable d-ASCs, like hypnosis or dreaming,
I believe the rules for associations may be systematically changed.
In d-ASCs induced by powerful psychedelic drugs like LSD (which
may not be stable d-ASCs) there may be a relatively random inter-
ference with the association processes that may still lead to crea-
tive conclusions but that may show n o lawfulness in and of them-
selves.
Note that the Evaluation and Decision-Making subsystem con-
trols Input-Processing to some extent in order to find "relevant"
data to help solve problems. T h i s can be useful or it can merely
reinforce prejudices. O u r evaluation of a situation may distort
our subsequent perception of it and thus increase o u r faith in
our evaluation, but at the price of distorted perception. I n o u r
desire for certainty, we can throw out the reality of the situation.
Emotions
T h e Emotions subsystem is one which I, as a typical overintel-
lectualized Western academic, feel least qualified to write about.
I share the intellectual's distrust of emotions as forces
that distort my reasoning and are liable to lead me astray. And
yet, like most people, my life and consciousness are strongly
controlled by the pursuit of pleasant emotions and the avoidance
of unpleasant ones.
Emotions are feelings that can be named b u t not easily de-
fined. They are feelings that we call grief, fear, joy, surprise,
yearning, anger, but that we define inadequately in terms of
words: at best we use words to evoke memories of experiences
that fit those names.
T h e Emotions subsystem is, in one sense, the most important
subsystem, for it can exert tremendous influence. If you are
experiencing the emotion of fear, it may very well control your
evaluations and decisions, the memories you draw upon, how you
see the world and how you act. Any strong emotion tends to
constellate the rest of consciousness about it. Indeed, I think that
while mild levels of any emotion can occur within the region of
experiential space we call the ordinary d-SoC, most strong levels
of feeling may actually constitute d-ASCs. If you talk about
feeling mildly angry, somewhat angry, or extremely angry, you
can imagine all these things occurring in your ordinary d-SoC.
But if you speak of being enraged, the word evokes associations of
changes in perception (such as "seeing red") and cognition that
strongly suggest that somewhere in the anger continuum there
was a q u a n t u m jump, and a d-ASC of rage developed. T h e same
is true for other strong emotions. I shall not develop the idea
further here, as strong emotional states have seldom been studied
scientifically as they must be to determine if they actually con-
stitute d-SoCs. T h e idea holds promise for f u t u r e research.
O u r culture is strongly characterized by poor volitional control
over the Emotions subsystem in the ordinary d-SoC. Emotions
can change with lightning rapidity; external events can induce
them almost automatically. W e have accepted this in a despair-
ing way as part of the h u m a n condition, ambivalently regarding
attempts to control emotions as either virtuous (since all emo-
tions make us lose control, we should suppress them) or artificial
(not " g e n u i n e " ) . Techniques from various spiritual disciplines
Subsystems 126
indicate, however, that there can be emotional control that does

not involve simple suppression or denial of content of the emo-
tion [128]. Don J u a n , for example, stated that since becoming a
" m a n of knowledge" he had transcended ordinary emotions, b u t
could have any one he wished [11], I n d-ASCs, people often
report either greatly increased or decreased control over their
emotions.
I n addition to changes in the degree of control over emotions,
the intensity of emotions themselves may also change in d-ASCs.
Dissociation from or dis-identification with emotions also occurs: a
person reports that an emotion is going on quite strongly within
him, yet is not "his": he is not identified with it and so little
affected by it.
In some d-ASCs new emotions appear, emotions that are
never present in the ordinary d-SoC. These include feelings like
serenity, tranquility, and ecstasy. Because we use these words in
our ordinary d-SoC we think we understand them, b u t those who
have experienced such emotions in d-ASCs insist that we have
only known the palest shadows of them.
Space/Time Sense
Events and experiences happen at a certain time in a certain

place. T h e naive view of this situation is that we simply perceive
the spatial and temporal dimensions of real events. A more
sophisticated analysis shows that space and time are experiential
constructs that we have used to organize sensory stimuli coming
to us. Because the organization has been so often successful for
dealing with the environment, we have come to believe that we
are simply perceiving what is "out there," rather than automati-
cally and implicitly imposing a conceptual framework on what
comes in to us. Ornstein [47] illustrates this in considerable
detail in his analysis of time perception, showing that psychologi-
cal time is a construct, as is physical time, and that a simple
equation of the two things is misleading. If we bear in mind that
our ordinary concepts of space a n d time are psychological con-
structs—highly successful theoretical ones, b u t nonetheless only
constructs—then we shall be less inclined to label as distortions
the changes in the functioning of the S p a c e / T i m e subsystem
reported in d-ASCs.
In the ordinary d-SoC there is a small a m o u n t of variation in
14 2
S p a c e / T i m e sense, b u t not much. O n a dull day time drags
somewhat and on an exciting day it goes by quickly, b u t this
range is not large. T h e dull hour may seem two or three hours
long, a walk home when you are tired may seem twice as far, but
this is about the m a x i m u m quantitative variation for most
people in the ordinary d-SoC. Many other aspects of the space/
time framework this subsystem generates are unchanging in the
ordinary d-SoC: effects d o not precede causes, u p and down d o
not reverse, your body does not shrink or grow larger with respect
to the space a r o u n d it.
Variations in the apparent rate of time flow may be much
larger in some d-ASCs than ordinarily. I n the d-ASC of mari-
j u a n a intoxication, for example, a common experience is for an
L P record to seem to play for an h o u r or more. Since an L P rec-
ord generally plays for about fifteen minutes, this is approxi-
mately a fourfold increase in experienced duration. Ornstein [47]
believes that a person's estimate of duration is based on the num-
ber of events that have taken place in a given period, so as more
things are experienced the elapsed time seems longer. Since mari-
j u a n a intoxication, like many d-ASCs, involves m a j o r changes in
Input-Processing so that more sensory information is admitted,
this experience of increased duration for a single record and for
similar events may be d u e to the fact that a lot more is happen-
ing experientially in that same period of clock time. T h e con-
verse effect can also h a p p e n in d-ASCs: time seems to speed by at
an extraordinary rate. An experience that seems to have lasted a
m i n u t e or two actually lasted an hour.
A rare but especially intriguing experience reported from some
d-ASCs is that the direction of flow of time seems to change. An
event f r o m the f u t u r e happens now; the experiencer may even
know it does not belong in the now but will h a p p e n later. An
effect seems to precede the cause. O u r immediate reaction, result-
ing from o u r deeply ingrained belief in the total reality of clock
time, is that this cannot be "true," and we see the phenomenon
as some confusion of time perception or possibly a hallucination.
A rewarding d-ASC experience is an increased focus on the
present moment, a greatly increased here-and-nowness. I n the
ordinary d-SoC, we usually pay little attention to what is actually
h a p p e n i n g in the present. W e live among memories of the past
and amid plans, anticipations, and fantasies about the future.
T h e greatly increased sense of being in the here and now experi-
Subsystems 126
enced in many d-ASCs usually accompanies a feeling of being

much more alive, much more in contact with things. Many
meditative practices specifically aim for this increased sense of
here-and-nowness. Some d-ASCs seem to produce the opposite
effect: the size of the present is "narrowed," making it very
difficult to grasp the present moment.
T h e experience of archetypal time, the eternal present, is a
highly valued and radical alteration in time sense reported in
various d-ASCs. Not only is there a great here-and-nowness, a
great focus on the present moment, but there is a feeling that the
activity or experience of the m o m e n t is exactly the right thing
that belongs in this m o m e n t of time. It is a perfect fit with the
state of the universe, a basic that springs from one's ultimate
nature. Some of my informants in my studies of m a r i j u a n a in-
toxication [105] expressed this, in terms of relationships, as n o
longer being the case of J o h n Smith and Mary Williams walking
together in New York City on J u n e 30, 1962, but M a n and
W o m a n Dancing T h e i r Pattern Together, as it always has been
and always will be.
T h e experience of archetypal time is similar to, and may be
identical with, the experience of timelessness, of the feeling that
any kind of temporal framework for an experience is meaning-
less. Experiences simply are, they do not seem to take place at a
specific time. Samadhi, for example, is described as lasting for an
eternity, even though the meditator may be in that d-ASC for
only a few seconds. Occasionally in such timeless experiences
some part of the m i n d is perceived as p u t t i n g a temporal location
and duration on the event, but this is seen as meaningless word
play that has nothing to do with reality. I n some accounts of
mystical experiences in d-ASCs, the adjectives timeless and eter-
nal are used almost interchangeably. Eternity probably did not
arise as a concept, b u t as a word depicting an experience of
timelessness, an immediate experiential reality rather than a
concept of infinite temporal duration.
Ddjti vu, the French phrase meaning "seen before," is a time
experience that occasionally happens in the ordinary d-SoC (it
may actually represent a momentary transition into a d-ASC)
and happens more frequently in d-ASCs. As an event is unfold-
ing you seem to be remembering it, you are convinced it has
happened before because it has the quality of a memory. I n
discussing the Memory subsystem, we speculated that ddjii vu
14 2
might sometimes result from a misplacement of the quality "this
is a memory" on a current perceptual event. Other types of dij&
vu experiences may represent an alteration of functioning of the
S p a c e / T i m e subsystem, where the extra informational quality
"this is from the past" is added to current perceptual events.
T h e quantitative variations in space perception that occur in
the ordinary d-SoC may occur in greatly increased form in d-
ASCs. Distances walked, for example, may seem much shorter or
much longer than ordinarily. Nor is active movement through
space necessary for changes in distance to occur: as you sit and
look at something, it may seem to recede into the distance or to
come closer. O r it may seem to grow larger or smaller.
Depth is a n important quality of spatial experience. A photo-
graph or a painting is usually seen as a two-dimensional, flat
representation of what was in reality a three-dimensional scene.
Perception of a three-dimensional quality in the two-dimensional
painting is attributed to the artist's technical skill. I n d-ASCs, the
degree of depth in ordinary perceptions may seem to change.
Aaronson [88 or 115, ch. 17] notes that in many psychotic states,
such as those associated with depression, the world seems flat, the
depth dimension seems greatly reduced, while in many valued d-
ASCs, such as those induced by psychedelic drugs, the d e p t h
dimension seems enhanced, deeper, richer. In some intriguing
experiments, Aaronson shows that by artificially altering a hyp-
notized subject's d e p t h perception through suggestion, to flatter
or deeper, he can produce great variations in the subject's moods,
and perhaps actually produce d-ASCs by simply changing this
basic operation of the S p a c e / T i m e subsystem.
T h e ability to see three-dimensional depth in two-dimensional
pictures is an interesting phenomenon reported for m a r i j u a n a
intoxication [105], T h e technique my main informant reported
is to look at a color picture through a pinhole held right at the
eye, so your field of vision includes only the picture, not any
other elements. If you are highly intoxicated with marijuana, the
picture may suddenly become a three-dimensional scene instead
of a flat, two-dimensional one.
Another d-ASC-associated spatial change is loss of the spatial
framework as a source of orientation. Although there are enor-
mous individual differences, some people always keep their
orientation in physical space plotted on a mental m a p ; they
generally know what direction they are facing, in what direction
Subsystems 126
various prominent landmarks are located. T h i s kind of orienta-
tion to the physical spatial framework may simply fade out, not
be perceived in d-ASCs, or it may still be perceptible b u t become
a relatively meaningless rather than an important type of infor-
mation.
T h i s kind of change can be accompanied by new ways of
perceiving space. Lines may become curved instead of straight,
for example. Some people report perceiving four or more dimen-
sions in d-ASCs, not as a mathematical construct but as an
experiential reality. T h e difficulties of expressing this in a lan-
guage evolved from external adaptation to three-dimensional
reality are obvious.
We ordinarily think of space as empty, but in d-ASCs space is
sometimes perceived as having a more solid quality, as being
filled with "vibrations" or "energy," rather than as being empty.
Sometimes experiencers believe this to be an actual change in
their perception of the space around them; sometimes they per-
ceive it as a projection of internal psychological changes onto
their spatial perception.
O u r ordinary concept of space is a visual one, related to maps,
lines and grids, visual distances, and diagrams. Space may be
organized in other ways. Some m a r i j u a n a smokers, for example,
report that space becomes organized in an auditory way when
they are listening to sounds or music with their eyes closed.
Others report that tactual qualities determine space.
I recall a striking evening I once spent with some friends. One
of them had just rented a new house, which none of us had seen.
W e arrived after dark, were blindfolded before entering the
house, and spent the next couple of hours exploring the house by
movement and touch alone, with n o visual cues at all. T h e
concept that gradually evolved of the space of the house without
the usual visual organizing cues was vastly different from the
subsequent perception of the space when the blindfolds were
removed.
Sense of Identity
W e noted earlier that an extra informational " T h i s is a mem-

ory" quality is either explicitly or implicitly attached to data
coming from the Memory subsystem and that this quality is
sometimes attached to nonmemory information in consciousness,
producing interesting phenomena. T h e primary function of the
Sense of Identity subsystem is to attach a " T h i s is m e " quality to
certain aspects of experience, to certain information in conscious-
ness, and thus to create the sense of an ego. Presumably semi-
permanent structures exist incorporating criteria for what the
" T h i s is m e " quality should be attached to. However, the func-
tioning of the Sense of Identity subsystem varies so greatly, even
in the ordinary d-SoC, that I emphasize the extra informational
aspects of the " T h i s is m e " quality rather than the structures
underlying it.
Any item of information to which the " T h i s is m e " quality is
attached acquires considerable extra potency and so may arouse
strong emotions and otherwise control attention/awareness
energy. If I say to you, " T h e face of someone you don't know, a
Mr. Johnson, is ugly and revolting," this information probably
will not be very important to you. But if I say to you, "Your face
is ugly and revolting," that is a different story! But why d o you
react so strongly to the latter sentence? T r u e , under some circum-
stances such a statement might preface more aggressive action,
against which you want to defend yourself, but often such a
remark prefaces n o more than additional words of the same sort;
yet, you react to those words as if to actual physical attack. 8
Adding the ego quality to information radically alters the way
that information is treated by the system of consciousness as a
whole.
At any given time only some of the contents of awareness are
modulated by the ego quality. As I sit writing and pause to
glance around the room, I see a large n u m b e r of objects; they
become the contents of my consciousness, but they are not me.
T h e ego quality has not been added to them. Much of our
experience is just information; it does not have a special ego
quality added.
Another m a j o r function of the Sense of Identity subsystem is
the exact opposite of its usual function: a denial of the sense of
self to certain structures. Because certain of our personal charac-
® The old childhood rhyme, "Sticks and stones will break my bones/ But
names will never hurt mel/Call me this, and call me that/And call yourself
a dirty rati" must be looked upon as a morale-builder, or perhaps an admoni-
tion that we adults should heed, but certainly not as a statement of truth. We
are terribly hurt by names and words and what people think of us—often
much more hurt than by sticks and stones. People have "chosen" to die in a
burning house rather than run out of it naked.
Subsystems 126
teristics and m i n d structures are considered undesirable a n d / o r

evoke unpleasant emotions in us, we create blocks and defenses
against perceiving them as parts of ourselves. Many of these
interdicted structures are culturally determined, many are
specific products of personal developmental history and are not
widely shared in the culture. So we deny that we have certain
characteristics or we project them on to others: / am not quarrel-
some, he is!
I mention this function only in passing, in spite of its enor-
mous importance, for it leads into the vast realm of psycho-
pathology, and is beyond the scope of this book.
T h e functioning of the Sense of Identity subsystem is highly
variable in the ordinary d-SoC, much more variable than we are
ordinarily aware. T h e r e are many transient identifications, many
short-term modulations of particular information, by the ego
feeling. When you read a good novel or see a good movie and
empathize with one of the characters, you are adding the ego
sense to the information about that character. Empathy is the
ability to take in information about another's experiences and
treat it as if it were your own. However, a person's degree
of control over, and self-awareness of, empathy is highly variable.
Lack of control over ability to identify with particular things can
cause psychological difficulties. For example, if a shopkeeper
treats you brusquely, you may feel h u r t and upset about it all
day long, even though you know intellectually that he is a
brusque person who treats everyone that way. Your ego sense was
attached to that particular information and is difficult to detach.
Thus, various kinds of stimulus patterns can catch the ego sense
and are difficult to disentangle.
T o illustrate the high variability of functioning of the Sense of
Identity subsystem, consider how it can be invested in posses-
sions. Suppose you are in New York City, having a "sophisti-
cated" discussion with a friend about the breakdown of social
values and the consequent rebellion by young people. T h r o u g h
the window you see some teenagers across the street trashing a
car, and, with detachment, you point out to your friend that
these u n f o r t u n a t e teenagers are what they are because their
parents could not transmit values they lacked themselves. T h e n
you notice it is your car they are trashing, and your feelings of
sympathy for those poor teenagers vanish rather quickly!
Each person has a n u m b e r of relatively permanent identifica-
tions, well-defined experiential and behavioral repertoires that
he thinks of as himself. His role in society gives him several of
these: he may be a salesman in one situation, a father in another,
a lover in another, a patient in another, an outraged citizen in
another. Often these various roles demand behaviors and values
that are contradictory, but because he identifies strongly with
each role at the time he assumes it, he does not think of his
other roles, and experiences little conscious conflict. For example,
a concentration camp guard who brutalizes his prisoners all day
may be known as a loving and doting father at home. T h i s
ability to compartmentalize roles is one of the greatest h u m a n
dilemmas.
Some roles are situation-specific. Others are so pervasive that
they continue to function in situations for which they are not
appropriate. For example, if you take your job concerns home
with you or to a party where other kinds of experiences and
behavior are desired and expected, you have overidentified with
a particular role.
O n e of a person's most constant, semipermanent identifications
is with his body, more precisely, with his body image, the abstract
of the data from his body as mediated through the Exterocep-
tion, Interoception, and Input-Processing subsystems. T h i s body
image he identifies with may or may not have much actual
resemblance to his physical body as other people see it. T h e
degree of identification with the body may vary from time to
time. W h e n I am ill I am very aware of my physical body and its
centrality in my consciousness; when I am healthy and happy I
am aware of my body more as a source of pleasure, or I forget it
as I become involved in various tasks.
O n the basis of this mass of transient and semipermanent
identifications, with various degrees of compartmentalization,
each of us believes in something he calls his ego or self. H e may
assume that this self is a property of his soul and will live forever.
H e may vigorously defend this self against slights or other at-
tacks. But what is this ego, this "real" self?
T h i s difficult question has long plagued philosophers and psy-
chologists. I am intrigued by the Buddhist view that asks you to
search your experience to find the basic, permanent parts of it that
constitute the essence of your ego. W h e n you d o this, you find it
hard to identify anything as being, finally, you. You may discern
certain long-term constancies in your values, connected sets of
Subsystems 126
memories, but none of these qualifies as an ultimate self. T h e
Buddhist view is that you have n o ultimate self, thus you need
not defend it. Since it is the ego that suffers, realization that ego
is an illusion is supposed to end suffering.
I n terms of the systems approach, we can characterize ego as a
continuity and consistency of functioning to which we attach
special importance, but which does not have the reality of a solid
thing somewhere, which is only a pattern of operation that
disappears u n d e r close scrutiny. I believe that this view is con-
gruent with the enormous changes that can occur in the sense of
self in various d-ASCs. T h e ego or self is thus a certain kind of
extra informational modulation attached to other contents of
consciousness. It is not a solid sort of thing, even though there
must be some semipermanent structures containing the informa-
tion criteria for controlling the functioning of this subsystem. A
change in the pattern of functioning changes the ego.
Reports from d-ASCs indicate that the sense of ego can be

disengaged from a wide variety of kinds of information and
situations to which it is normally attached. Memories, for ex-
ample, may come into your consciousness unaccompanied by the
feeling that this is your memory, as just information pulled from
memory. T h i s can be therapeutically useful for recovering infor-
mation about traumatic events from a patient who is unable to
handle the emotional charge on the events. T h e sense of ego can
also be detached from the body, so that you are associated simply
with a body rather than your body. Reaction to pain, for in-
stance, can be altered this way. You may feel a stimulus as just as
painful as ordinarily, but you d o not get upset about it because
you are not being injured. Situations that evoke particular roles
may not evoke such roles in d-ASCs. For example, all the neces-
sary stimulus elements may be present for automatically invoking
the role of teacher, but in the d-ASC the role does not appear.
T h e sense of ego can be detached from possessions and responsi-
bilities, and even from actions, so that things you do seem not to
be your actions for which you are responsible, b u t just actions.
Sometimes the sense of ego is detached from several or all of
the above concepts so that you feel entirely egoless for a while.
T h e r e is experience, but none of it is "possessed" by you in any
special ego sense.
T h e converse effect can also occur in d-ASCs: the sense of ego
may be added to things it is not ordinarily attached to. A
situation, for example, may call for a certain role that is not
important to you ordinarily but which you come to identify with
strongly.
T h i s detachment and addition of the ego sense that accom-
panies d-ASCs may result in actions that are later regretted when
the ordinary d-SoC returns. In our culture, the classic case is the
person who behaves while d r u n k as he would never behave sober.
A certain a m o u n t of social tolerance exists for d r u n k e n behavior,
so while some people have p r o f o u n d regrets on realizing what
they did, others are able to compartmentalize these experiences
and not be particularly bothered by them.
These large shifts in ego sense in d-ASCs may later modify the
ordinary d-SoC functioning of the Sense of Identity subsystem.
W h e n things you firmly identify with in the ordinary d-SoC are
experienced in a d-ASC as detached from you, your conviction of
their permanence is u n d e r m i n e d and remains so when you re-
sume your ordinary d-SoC. You are then receptive to other possi-
bilities.
Since attachment of the sense of ego to certain information
greatly increases the power of that information, these large shifts
in Sense of Identity subsystem functioning can have p r o f o u n d
consequences. For example, if the sense of ego is used to modu-
late most information about another person, you may feel united
with that person. T h e usual ego-object dichotomy is broken. If
your sense of being an ego separate from other things is greatly
reduced or temporarily abolished in a d-ASC, you may feel much
closer to another person because there is n o you to be separate
from him. T h e other may be a perceived, real person or a concept
or belief. W h o or what this other is is very important. If he is a
religiously respected person, a saint, or god, you may have a
mystical experience in which you feel identified with something
greater than yourself.
It is important to note, however, that the expansive or contrac-
tive change in the Sense of Identity subsystem that allows iden-
tification with something greater t h a n / o r outside oneself can
have negative consequences and can be used to m a n i p u l a t e
others. G r o u p procedures at some religious meetings or political
rallies, such as the Nazis held, illustrate how an intense emo-
tional state can be generated which disrupts the stabilization of
the ordinary d-SoC and leaves it vulnerable to psychological
Subsystems 126
pressure to identify with the cause being promoted. W h e t h e r the

cause is that of the Nazi party or of Christian salvation, the
method is manipulation, playing on a subject's ignorance to
disrupt his d-SoC and then reprogramming him.
These negative aspects should be emphasized, for too many
people who have had good experiences in d-ASCs tend to think d-
ASCs are inherently good. Consider, therefore, one more ex-
ample, that of the berserkers. T h e English word berserk, mean-
ing "violently r u n n i n g amuck, killing and slaying at random,"
comes from the Scandinavian word berserker, referring to groups
in medieval times who took a psychedelic d r u g in order to
become better killers. T r a d i t i o n has it that these Vikings, to
whom raiding and killing was a respectable way of life, ingested
Amanita muscaria, a mushroom with psychedelic properties,
under ritual conditions (patterning forces) to induce a day-long
d-ASC in which they became exceptionally ferocious killers and
fighters, carried away by rage and lust, supposedly impervious to
pain, and possessed of extra strength. Such a d-ASC experience
hardly creates "flower children."
Additionally we should note that the semiconstancy of the
consensus reality we live in imposes a fair degree of consistency
on the kinds of experiences and contents of consciousness to
which the Sense of Identity subsystem attaches the ego quality.
Every m o r n i n g you awaken with an apparently identical body;
people call you by the same name; they have relatively fixed
expectations of you; they reward you for fulfilling those expecta-
tions; you are usually surrounded by a fair n u m b e r of possessions
that reinforce your sense of identity. As long as these consensus
reality conditions remain relatively constant, you can easily be-
lieve in the constancy of your ego. But if these props for your
Sense of Identity are changed, as they sometimes are deliberately
as a way of destabilizing the b-SoC in preparation for inducing a
d-ASC, your sense of ego can change radically. An example
familiar to some readers is induction into the army: you are
stripped of personal possessions, including clothes; all your ordi-
nary social roles are gone; your name is replaced by a n u m b e r or
a rank; and you are "reeducated" to be a good soldier. Induction
into the army and induction into a d-ASC have much in com-
mon, b u t because the army is a well-known subset of consensus
reality it is not considered odd, as hypnosis or dreaming are.
Finally, because of its enormous ability to control emotional
14 2
and attention/awareness energy, the Sense of Identity subsystem
can at times constellate the entire structure of consciousness
about particular identity patterns, just as can archetypes (in the
J u n g i a n sense) arising from the Collective Unconscious can.
Motor Output
T h e Motor O u t p u t subsystem consists of those structures by
which we physically affect the external world a n d o u r own
bodies. In terms of conscious awareness, these structures are pri-
marily the skeletal, voluntary musculature. If I take a m i n u t e out
from writing to pet my cat, I am using my Motor O u t p u t sub-
system with full awareness. T h e Motor O u t p u t subsystem
elements that primarily affect o u r own bodies are glandular
secretions and other internal, biological processes. T h e s e latter,
involuntary effectors are controllable not directly, but through
intermediates. I cannot directly increase the a m o u n t of adrena-
line in my bloodstream, for example, but if I make myself angry
and wave my fists and shout a n d holler, I will almost certainly
increase the a m o u n t of adrenaline secreted.
T w o kinds of i n p u t s control Motor O u t p u t : i n p u t from the
Evaluation and Decision-Making subsystem, conscious decisions
to do or not to do something, and input from a series of control-
ling signals that bypasses the Evaluation and Decision-Making
subsystem. T h e latter includes reflexes (jumping at a sudden
sound, for example), emotional reactions, and direct control of
Motor O u t p u t from the Subconscious subsystem. Subconscious
control in the ordinary d-SoC includes qualities added to other-
wise conscious gestures that reflect nonconscious mental proc-
esses: you may state, for example, that a certain person does not
make you angry, but an observer notices that your fists clench
whenever this person is mentioned. 7
11n relation to subconscious control of movement, Gurdjieff [24] put forth

an idea about body movement that is interesting because it parallels the idea
of discrete states of consciousness on a body level. He states that arfy person
has only a set number of postures and gestures that he uses of his own will.
The number varies from person to person, perhaps as low as fifty, perhaps as
high as several hundied. A person moves rapidly, almost jerks, from one
preferred posture to another. If he is forcibly stopped in between discrete
postures, he is uncomfortable, even if it is not a physical strain. Since the
functioning of consciousness seems to be strongly affected by body postures
and strains, these "discrete states of posture" (d-SoPs) are important to
study.
Subsystems 126
Motor O u t p u t operates with almost constant feedback control.
By monitoring the environment with the Exteroception subsys-
tem and the body with the Interoception subsystem, you con-
stantly check on the effect of your physical actions and on
whether these are desirable and make adjustments accordingly. 8
Many voluntary movements are q u i t e unconscious in terms of
their details. You decide to lift your arm, yet you have little
awareness of the individual muscle actions that allow you to do
so. In d-ASCs, greatly increased awareness of particular aspects of
the Motor O u t p u t subsystem are sometimes reported. Greatly
decreased awareness has also been reported: actions that are
ordinarily subject to conscious awareness, via feedback from the
interoceptors, are done with n o awareness at all. D u r i n g my first
experience with a psychedelic drug, mescaline, I told my body to
walk down to the end of the hall. T h e n my awareness became
completely absorbed in various internal events. After what
seemed a very long time, I was surprised to notice that my body
had walked down the hall and obligingly stopped at the end,
with no conscious participation or awareness on my part. T o
some extent this occurs in an ordinary d-SoC, especially with well-
learned actions, but the effect can be m u c h more striking in a d-
ASC. W e should distinguish lack of sensory awareness of body
actions from awareness of them but without the sense of ego
added. T h e latter also creates a different relationship with motor
actions.
Deautomatization of motor actions is another sort of altered
awareness of motor o u t p u t that can occur in a d-ASC. Either you
become unusually aware of components of automatized actions
normally inaccessible to consciousness or you have deliberately to
will each of these component actions to take place because the
whole automated action will not occur by itself.
Gurdjieff used this as a basis for his "Halt" exercise. Pupils agreed to
freeze instantly whenever the command "Haiti" was given. The exercise was
intended to show the pupils some of their limitations, among other things.
Gurdjieff claims it is a dangerous exercise unless used by someone with an
exceptional knowledge of the human body. The idea suggests interesting
research possibilities. More information can be found in Ouspensky [48].
8 Conscious control over aspects of bodily functioning long considered to be
automatic, not susceptible to voluntary control, is now a major research area
under the rubric of biofeedback. The interested reader can find the most
important researches reprinted each year in Biofeedback and Self-Control, an
annual published by Aldine Publishing Company, Chicago.
14 2
D-ASC-related changes in the way the body is experienced via
the Exteroception subsystem and in awareness of functioning of
the Motor O u t p u t subsystem can alter the operating characteris-
tics of voluntary action. You may have to perform a different
kind of action internally in order to produce the same kind of
voluntary action. Carlos Castaneda [9] gives a striking example
of this in a drug-induced d-ASC. His body was completely para-
lyzed from the "little smoke" in terms of his ordinary way of
controlling it. Doing all the things he ordinarily did to move
produced zero response. But if he simply willed movement in a
certain way, his body responded.
Changes in the awareness of the functioning of the Motor
O u t p u t subsystem may include feelings of greatly increased
strength or skill, or of greatly decreased strength or skill. O f t e n
these feelings do not correspond with performance: you may feel
exceptionally weak or unsure of your skill, and yet perform in a
basically ordinary fashion. Or you may feel exceptionally strong,
but show n o actual increase in performance. T h e potential for a
true increment in strength in d-ASCs is real, however, because in
the ordinary d-SoC you seldom use your musculature to its full
strength. Safety mechanisms prevent you from fully exerting
yourself and possibly damaging yourself. For example, some
muscles are strong enough to break your own bones if they were
maximally exerted. In various d-ASCs, especially when strong
emotions are involved, these safety mechanisms may be temporar-
ily bypassed, allowing greater strength, at the risk of damage.
In a d-ASC the Subconscious subsystem may control the Motor
O u t p u t subsystem or parts of it. For example, if a hypnotist
suggests to a subject that his arm is moving u p and down by
itself, the arm will do so and the subject will experience the arm
moving by itself, without his conscious volition. If a hypnotist
suggests automatic writing, the subject's hand will write complex
material, with as much skill as in ordinary writing, without any
conscious awareness by the subject of what he is going to write
and without any feeling of volitional control over the action.
T h i s kind of disassociated motor action can also sometimes occur
in the ordinary d-SoC, where it may represent the action of a
disassociated d-ASC.
T h i s ends our survey of the main subsystems of states of

consciousness. It is only a survey, pointing out the major varia-
Subsystems 126
tions. Much literature already exists from which more specific
information about various subsystems can be gleaned, and much
research remains to be done to clarify o u r concepts of particular
subsystems. Particularly we need to know exactly how each sub-
system changes for each specific d-ASC.
So we must know o u r parts better, although I emphasize again
that it is just as important to know how these parts are p u t into
the functioning whole that constitutes a system, a d-SoC.
9
Individual Differences
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Inadequate recognition of individual differences is a methodo-

logical deficiency that has seriously slowed psychological research.
Lip service is paid to individual differences, but in reality they
are largely ignored. Psychologists, caught u p in the all-too-human
struggle for prestige, ape the methods of the physical sciences, in
which individual differences are not of great significance and the
search is for general fundamental laws. I believe this failure to
recognize individual differences is the rock on which psychology's
early attempts to establish itself as an introspective discipline
foundered. Following the lead of the tremendously successful
physical scientists, the early psychologists searched for general
laws of the mind, and when their data turned out to be contra-
dictory, they quarreled with each other over who was right, not
realizing they were all right, and so wasted their energies. They
tried to abstract too much too soon before coming to terms with
the experiential subject matter.
We psychologists all too often do the same thing today, albeit
in a more sophisticated form. Consider, for example, the proce-
dure described in Chapter 5 for mapping a person's location in
experiential space. Suppose that in the course of an experiment
we measure two variables, X and Y, in a group of subjects. T o
conceretize the example, we can define X as the degree of anal-
gesia (insensitivity to pain) the subject can show and Y as the
intensity of the subject's imagery. Tempted by the convenience
Individual Differences 141
o o
o
O O o
OOOO"1
X ANALGESIA X ANALGESIA X ANALGESIA
A L L SUBJECTS o
o °°o
o o°o
o o
O o?o° R - 84
X ANALGESIA X ANALGESIA
Figure 9-1. Problems arising when individual differences are ignored.

C h a n s A, B, and C are experiential mappings of the sort done in
Figure 5-1. T h e other two charts are summary charts, as explained in
the text.
and "scientificness" of a nearby computer, we feed our group data

into a prepackaged analysis program and get the printout in the
lower right-hand chart of Figure 9-1—a straight line fitted to the
data and indicating a highly significant (thus publishable) cor-
relation coefficient between variables X and Y. It looks as if abil-
ity to experience analgesia is linearly related to intensity of
imagery, that in this region of experiential space there is a
straight-road connection: if you d o whatever is needed to en-
hance imagery, you automatically increase analgesia.
If we distrust such great abstraction of the data, we can ask the
computer to print out a scatter plot of the raw data, the actual
position of each subject instead of the abstraction for all subjects.
T h i s new printout (lower left-hand chart of Figure 9-1) appar-
ently reassures us that the fitted curve and correlation coefficient
are adequate ways of presenting and understanding our results.
T h e straight road is somewhat broad, but still basically straight.
More imagery goes with more analgesia.
W e have extracted a principle (more imagery leads to more
analgesia) from group data that is based on one pair of observa-
tions from each subject. Suppose, however, that we actually go
back to our subjects and test some of them repeatedly, obtain
samples over time, an experiential mapping, of their simultaneous
abilities to experience analgesia and imagery. T h e n we find that
our subjects actually fall into three distinct types, as shown in the
upper charts of Figure 9-1. T y p e A shows either a low degree of
both analgesia and imagery or a fair degree of analgesia and
imagery, but n o other combinations. T y p e B shows a low to fair
degree of analgesia and imagery or a very high degree of anal-
gesia and imagery, b u t n o other combinations. T y p e C shows a
high variability of degree of analgesia and imagery, a much
wider range of combinations.
For subjects of type C, the conclusion, drawn from the group
data, of a linear relationship between intensity of imagery and
intensity of analgesia, is valid. But how many type C subjects are
included in o u r group? Subjects of types A and B, on the other
hand, do not show a linear relationship between analgesia and
imagery. T h e r e is n o straight road, only some islands of experi-
ence. For type A subjects, analgesia and imagery cluster together
at low levels or at moderate levels of functioning, but show n o
clear linear relationship within either cluster. For type B sub-
jects, analgesia and imagery cluster at low to moderate or at very
high levels, and again show n o clear linear relationship within
either clustering. Indeed, subjects of types A and B show the
clustering used in Chapter 5 to define the concept of multiple d-
SoCs, while subjects of type C seem to function in only a single d-
SoC.
T h u s the conclusion drawn from the grouped data about re-
lations between analgesia and imagery in this region of experi-
ential space turns out to apply only to some people and to misrep-
resent what others experience. Indeed, the error may be more
p r o f o u n d : people may be only of the A and B types, but combin-
ing their results as subjects when some are in one part of ex-
periential space and some in another gives us a set of numbers
that spans the whole range. T h i s leads us to the straight-road or
linear relationship concept, even though that concept actually
represents no one's experience.
It is hard to realize the full impact of individual differences
because of the deep implicitness of the assumption that we all
share a common d-SoC. Since we are members of a common
culture, this is generally true, b u t the more I come to know other
individuals and get a feeling for the way their minds work, the
more I am convinced that this general truth, the label ordinary d-
SoC, conceals enormous individual differences. If I clearly under-
stood the way your mind works in its ordinary d-SoC, and if you
understood the same about me, we would both be amazed. Yet
because we speak a common language, which stresses external
rather than internal events, we are seldom aware of these differ-
ences.
Psychologically, each of us assumes that his own m i n d is an
example of a "normal" m i n d and then projects his own experi-
ences onto other people, unaware of how much projecting he is
doing. For example, most of us have imagery in our ordinary d-
SoC that is unstable and not very vivid, so that trying to visual-
ize something really steadily and intensely is impossible. Some
people report that in d-ASCs their imagery is much more intense
and controllable, steady. Yet the inventor Nikola Tesla had such
intense, controllable imagery in his ordinary d-SoC. W h e n Tesla
designed a machine, he did it in his head, without using physical
drawings: nevertheless, he could instruct a dozen different
machinists how to make each separate part, to the nearest ten-
thousandth of an inch, and the completed machine would fit
together perfectly. Tesla is also reported to have tested wear on
his machines through imagery. H e designed the machine by
visualization, p u t the imaged parts together into a complete
machine, started it r u n n i n g in his mind, forgot about it, resur-
rected the image thousands of hours later, mentally dismantled
the machine, and inspected the parts for wear to see what needed
reinforcement or redesign [43]. Regardless of how one evaluates
the accuracy of such imagery, Tesla's procedure is a good ex-
ample of what for most of us is exotic imagery associated with d-
ASCs, but what was for him the imagery of his "ordinary" d-
SoC.
O n those occasions when we d o recognize great differences in
the mental functioning of others, we are tempted to label the
differences weird or abnormal or pathological. Such blanket
labels are not useful. W h a t are the specific advantages and disad-
vantages under what circumstances for each individual difference
or pattern?
T h i s tendency to project implicitly the workings of one's own
m i n d pattern as a standard for the workings of all minds can
14 2
have interesting scientific results. For example, controversy rages
in the literature on hypnosis over whether the concept of a d-SoC
is necessary to explain hypnosis, or whether the hypnotic "state"
is in fact continuous with the ordinary "state," is simply a case of
certain psychological functions, such as suggestibility and role-
playing involvement, being pushed to higher levels of activity
than they are under ordinary conditions. A chief proponent of
this latter view, T h e o d o r e X. Barber [4], can produce most of
the classical hypnotic phenomena in himself without doing any-
thing special. H e can anesthetize his hand or produce mild
hallucinations without experiencing a breakdown of his ordinary
consciousness, a transitional period from one d-SoC to another,
or anything else special. 1 T h e phenomena included in his ordi-
nary d-SoC encompass a range that, for another person, must be
attained by unusual means. H o w much does this affect his theo-
rizing? How much does anyone's individual psychology affect his
thinking about how other minds work? Again consider Figure
9-1. Whereas A and B type people may have two d-SoCs, one
that we call their ordinary d-SoC and a second called their
hypnotic state, the ordinary range of consciousness of type C
people includes both these regions. T h u s it may be more accurate
to say that what has been called hypnosis, to stick with this
example, is indeed merely an extension of the ordinary range of
functioning for some people, b u t for other people it is a d-ASC.
I cannot emphasize too strongly that the m a p p i n g of experi-
ence and the use of the concept of d-SoCs must first be done on
an individual basis. Only then, if regions of great similarity are
found to exist across individuals, can common names that apply
across individuals be legitimately coined.
T h i s idealistic statement does not reflect the way our concepts
actually evolved. T h e very existence of names like dreaming state
or hypnotic state indicates that there appears to be a fair degree
of commonality among a fair n u m b e r of individuals. T h o u g h I
often speak as if this commonality were true, its veracity cannot
be precisely evaluated at the present stage of our knowledge, and
l As discussed in Chapter 12, some individuals may transit so rapidly and

easily between d-SoCs that they do not notice the transitions and so mis-
takenly believe they experience only one d-SoC. This case is ordinarily difficult
to distinguish from that of actual continuity through a wide region of expe-
riential space.
the concept is clearly misleading at times. Several d-ASCs may be
hidden within common names like hypnosis or dreaming.
In addition to the large individual differences that may exist
among people we think are all in the same d-SoC, there are
important individual differences among people's abilities to tran-
sit from one d-SoC to another. I n discussing stabilization proc-
esses, I mentioned that some people seem overstabilized and
others understabilized. T h e former may be able to experience
only a few d-SoCs, while the latter may transit often and effort-
lessly into d-ASCs. Understabilized people may undergo break-
down of the ordinary d-SoC and be unable to form a new d-ASC,
unable to organize consciousness into a stable coping form. Some
types of schizophrenia may represent this understabilized mode
of consciousness.
Besides the sheer n u m b e r of simultaneous and reinforcing
stabilization processes, the degree of voluntary control over them
is important. T o the extent that your stabilization processes are
too powerful or too implicit to be altered at will, you are stuck in
one mode of consciousness. These dimensions of stabilization,
control, and ability to transit from one d-SoC to another are
important ones that must be the focus of f u t u r e research, as we
know almost nothing about them now.
IO.
Using Drugs to Induce

Altered States
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Serious misunderstandings occur when an external technique

that might induce a d-ASC is equated with that altered state
itself. This error is particularly seductive in regard to psycho-
active or psychedelic drugs, for we tend automatically to accept
the pharmacological paradigm that the specific chemical nature
of the drug interacts with the chemical and physical structure of
the nervous system in a lawfully determined way, invariably
producing certain results. T h i s view may be mostly true at a
neurological or hormonal level, but is misleading at the level of
consciousness. Within this paradigm, observed variability in
human reactions is seen as the "perverseness" of psychological
idiosyncrasies interfering with basic physiological reactions, and
is averaged out by treating it as "error variance." While this
pharmacological paradigm seems usefully valid for a variety of
simple drugs, such as barbiturates that induce drowsiness and
sleep, it is inadequate and misleading for the psychedelic drugs,
such as marijuana or LSD.
Nondrug Factors
Figure 10-1 depicts a model of the effects of drugs on con-
sciousness that I developed when I was beginning to study mari-
juana intoxication [103, 105]. In addition to the physiological
effects that constitute disrupting and patterning forces impinging
Using Drugs to Induce Altered States 156
Figure 10-1. Factors affecting reactions to a psychoactive drug.
on the subject (upper right portion of the figure), there are a

large n u m b e r of psychological disrupting and patterning forces
that are, in many cases, more important than the physiological
effects in determining whether a d-ASC will occur and what the
content of that altered state will be. T h u s while it is useful to
know what psychoactive d r u g a subject has taken, the quantity of
the drug, and the method of administration, such information
may be relatively u n i m p o r t a n t . W i t h o u t some knowledge of the
psychological factors, accurate prediction of the subject's behav-
ioral and experiential reactions may be very difficult.
These n o n d r u g factors can be classified in three groups: long-
term factors, immediate factors, and factors related to the setting
in which the d r u g is used.
14 2
Long-term factors include (1) the culture the subject was
raised in and all the effects that has had in terms of structuring
his ordinary d-SoC, and providing specific expectations about the
drug; (2) the personality of the subject; (3) possible specific
physiological vulnerabilities he may have to the drug; and (4)
his learned d r u g skills—whether he has taken this d r u g many
times before, and learned to enhance desired reactions and in-
hibit undesired reactions, or is naive with respect to this drug, so
that most of his energy will be needed to cope with the (often
stressful) effects of the novelty.
Immediate factors are (5) the subject's mood when he takes
the drug, since this mood may be amplified or inhibited; (6) the
subject's expectations about the experience; and (7) whether
these expectations are the same as what he desires to experience.
Factors related to the situation or experimental setting in
which the d r u g is taken include (8) the physical setting and its
effect on the subject; (9) the social setting and its effect—the
kinds of people who are with the subject and how they interact
with him (a frightened person present, for example, may com-
municate his fright sufficiently to make the effect of the d r u g
quite anxiety-provoking); (10) in the case of an experiment, the
formal instructions given to the subject and how he reacts to and
interprets them; and (11) the demand characteristics [45, 55],
the implicit instructions, and how they affect the subject (for
example, if the experimenter tells the subject the d r u g is rela-
tively harmless, but asks him to sign a comprehensive medical
release form, the total message communicated belies the state-
ment that this is a relatively harmless d r u g ) .
Further, the subject or user is not just a passive recipient of all
these forces, reacting mechanically. H e may selectively enhance
the action of some and inhibit others. If the social situation is
"bringing you down," you can leave. If you feel unsettled and
unsure of your control, you can choose to use only a small
amount of the drug. If certain aspects of the situation are unset-
tling, you can try not to focus attention o n them b u t on more
pleasant or useful aspects of the situation. T h i s aspect is indi-
cated by the feedback arrow in Figure 10-1.
Since, as discussed earlier, a person's control of his attention
and energy is limited, to some extent he is at the mercy of the
various factors diagrammed in Figure 10-1. In the experimental
situation particularly, the subject usually has n o control at all
over most of these factors and so is at their mercy. T h i s is
important because so much of our scientific knowledge in this
area is based on experimental studies of drugs—studies that
might be assumed to be the most dependable. Unfortunately, a
close reading of the experimental literature on drugs suggests
that most experimenters were not only unaware of the impor-
tance of the psychological factors diagrammed in Figure 10-1,
and so failed to report them, b u t usually set u p the experiment
in a way that maximized the probability of bad trips, of anxiety-
filled, unpleasant reactions.
T h i s situation is summarized in T a b l e 10-1. T h e values of
d r u g and psychological factors listed in the rightmost column are
those that increase the probability of a bad trip; those in the
third left column, a good trip. Knowing that the values of some of
these factors are in one or the other direction has little predictive
value at the present stage of o u r knowledge, but knowing that
most of them are in one direction allows fair prediction. I infer
(sometimes from the published description per se, sometimes
from reading between the lines or talking to former subjects)
that in the more than one thousand scientific experiments on
drug-induced d-ASCs reported in the literature that most experi-
ments had most of the determining factors in the bad trip direc-
tion. T h u s most of o u r scientific knowledge about d r u g effects is
badly confused with effects of coping with the stress of a bad trip.
Physiological and Psychological Effects
Given this cautionary note on the complexity of using drugs

to induce d-ASCs, a few general things can be said about drug-
induced states in terms of the systems approach.
Particular drugs may specifically affect the neurological bases
of various psychological structures/subsystems, exciting or acti-
vating some of these structures/subsystems, suppressing or slow-
ing the activity of other structures/subsystems, altering or
distorting the mode of information-processing within some struc-
tures/subsystems. Psychological processes in relatively unaffected
structures/subsystems may, however, compensate for changes in
affected subsystems a n d / o r maintain sufficient stabilization proc-
esses so that the d-SoC does not break down. T h e d r u g may both
disrupt and pattern on a physiological level, but not necessarily
induce a d-ASC. Remember that a d-SoC is multiply stabilized.
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14 2
W h e n physiological effects occur in various structures/subsys-
tems, their interpretation by the subject determines much of
his (multilevel) reaction and whether a d-ASC results. Changing
the interpretation of a sensation alters its importance and the
degree of attention/awareness energy it attracts. For example, if
you consider a tingling sensation in your limbs "just" a dull
feeling from "tiredness," you handle it differently than if you
interpret it to mean that you are getting high, that the d r u g is
beginning to work.
An excellent example comes from marijuana use. Most mari-
juana smokers have to learn how to achieve the d-ASC we refer to
as marijuana intoxication or being stoned. Typically, the first
few times a person smokes marijuana, he feels an occasional
isolated effect like tingling, but the overall pattern of his con-
sciousness stays quite ordinary and he usually wonders why
others make so much fuss about a drug that has so little effect.
W i t h the assistance of more experienced drug users, who suggest
he focus his attention on certain kinds of happenings or try to
have certain specified kinds of experiences, additional psycho-
logical factors, patterning and disrupting forces, are brought to
bear to disrupt the ordinary d-SoC and pattern the d-ASC. O f t e n
the transition takes place quite suddenly, and the smoker finds
that he is now stoned. T h i s is a good illustration of how the
physiological action of the marijuana disrupts many of the ordi-
nary feedback stabilization processes of the ordinary d-SoC, but
too few to destabilize and alter the d-SoC.
T h e fact that a naive user can smoke enormous amounts of
marijuana the first several times without getting stoned, and
then easily get stoned with a tenth as much drug once he has
learned how, is paradoxical to pharmacologists. They call it the
reverse tolerance effect. T h i s effect is not at all puzzling in terms
of the systems approach. It simply means that the physiological
disrupting and patterning effects of the drug per se are generally
not sufficient to destabilize the b-SoC. Once the user knows how
to deploy his attention/awareness properly, however, this de-
ployment needs only a small boost from the physiological effects
of the drug to finally destabilize the b-SoC and pattern the d-
ASC—being stoned.
Indeed, the placebo response of getting stoned on marijuana
from which the T H C (tetrahydrocannabinol, the main and per-
haps only active ingredient) has been extracted may not illus-
trate the idea that some people are hypersuggestible so much as
the fact that psychological factors are the main components of the
d-ASC associated with m a r i j u a n a use.
W e should also note that it is a common experience for mari-
juana users [105] to say they can come down at will, that if they
find themselves in a situation they feel unable to cope with
adequately while in the d-ASC of m a r i j u a n a intoxication, they
can deliberately suppress most or all the effects and temporarily
return almost instantly to the ordinary d-SoC. By psychological
methods alone they can disrupt the altered state and pattern
their ordinary state into existence: yet the same amount of T H C
is still circulating in their bloodstreams.
A third and quite striking example of the importance of psy-
chological factors in determining whether a drug produces a
d-ASC comes from a review by Snyder [60] of the attempts to use
m a r i j u a n a in medicine in the nineteenth century:
It is striking that so many of these medical reports fail to

mention any intoxicating properties of the drug. Rarely, if
ever, is there any indication that patients—hundreds of thou-
sands must have received cannabis in Europe in the nineteenth
century—were "stoned," or changed their attitudes toward
work, love, their fellow men, or their homelands. . . . W h e n
people see their doctor about a specific malady they expect a
specific treatment and do not anticipate being "turned on."
Apparently, then, unless you have the right kinds of expecta-

tions and a "little help from your friends," it is unlikely that
marijuana will produce a d-ASC. E q u a t i n g the inhalation of
marijuana with the existence of a d-ASC is a tricky business.
T h i s should not be interpreted to mean that m a r i j u a n a is a
weak drug, however. Some people fail to respond to large doses of
far more powerful drugs like LSD.
Major Psychedelic Drugs

T h e results of using the very powerful drugs, like LSD, mes-
caline, or psilocybin, are extremely variable. Almost everyone
who takes these more powerful psychedelic drugs experiences a
disruption of his ordinary d-SoC. T h e primary effect of the
14 2
powerful psychedelic drugs is to disrupt the stabilization proc-
esses of the ordinary d-SoC so that d-SoC breaks down. But, while
there is a great deal of commonality of experience among mari-
j u a n a users (at least in our cultural setting) [105], so that it is
useful to speak of the " m a r i j u a n a state" as a distinctive d-ASC
across users, the variability of experience with the powerful psy-
chedelics is so great that there seems to be n o particular d-ASC
necessarily produced by them. Rather, a highly unstable condi-
tion develops characterized by transient formations of patterns
that constitute d-ASCs. T h e temporary association of scattered
functions in the third part of Figure 7-1 illustrates this. T h e r e is
a continuous transition between various kinds of unstable condi-
tions. T h e colloquial phrase tripping is appropriate: one is con-
tinually going somewhere, b u t never arriving. 1
While this is probably true for most experiences with powerful
psychedelics in o u r culture, it is not universally true. Carlos
Castaneda's accounts of his work with Don J u a n [9-12] indicate
that Castaneda's initial reactions to psychedelic drugs were of
this tripping sort. But Don J u a n was not interested in having
him trip. Among other things, D o n J u a n tried to train Casteneda
to stabilize the effects of the psychedelic drugs so that he could
get into particular d-ASCs suited to particular kinds of tasks at
various times. T h u s , the addition of f u r t h e r psychological pat-
terning forces to the primarily disruptive forces caused by psy-
chedelic drugs enables development of d-ASCs with particularly
interesting properties.
Meanwhile, we should avoid terms like "the LSD state." W e
should not believe that the statement, "X took LSD" (or any
powerful psychedelic d r u g ) , tells us much about what happened
to X's consciousness. Indeed, a statement like "subjects were
administered 1.25 micrograms of LSD per kilogram of body
weight," commonly f o u n d in the experimental literature, is espe-
cially misleading because it seems so precise. It must be replaced
by statements like "subject n u m b e r 2 was administered such and
such a dose of LSD, which then produced a d-ASC of type X,
while subject n u m b e r 3 did not enter a d-ASC with the same dose
of LSD."
l Alternatively, this variability can be interpreted as indicating very rapid

transitions from one d-SoC of a few seconds' duration to another, to another,
etc., but as discussed earlier, a d-SoC cannot be readily studied unless it lasts
for a while.
164
Using Drugs to Induce Altered States
I want to emphasize that I am in no way downgrading the
potential value of psychedelic d r u g experiences simply because
they probably seldom become stable d-ASCs in o u r culture.
W h e n used u n d e r the right circumstances by individuals who
have been prepared, psychedelic drug experiences can be very
valuable. Perhaps the most basic value is simply the total, experi-
ential demonstration that other modes of awareness exist, that
the ordinary d-SoC is only one of the many possible ways of
structuring the mind. Specific insights into a person's ordinary
self, which are valuable for therapy and growth, can also occur,
and data and ideas about the nature of the mind can be ob-
tained. T h i s book is not the place to discuss the growth and
therapeutic use of psychedelics: the interested reader should con-
sult several chapters in Altered States of Consciousness [88 or
115].
11.
Observation of Internal States

CHKHKHWKKHKHKHKHJO^^
Observation of internal events is often unreliable and difficult.

Focusing on external behavior or physiological changes is useful,
but experiential data are primary in d-SoCs. We must develop a
more precise language for communicating about such data.
Observing oneself means that the overall system must observe
itself. Thus, in the conservative view of the mind self-observation
is inherently limited, for the part cannot comprehend the whole
and the characteristics of the parts affect their observation. In the
radical view, however, in which awareness is partially or wholly
independent of brain structure, the possibility exists of an Ob-
server much more independent of the structure.
Introspection, the observation of one's own mental processes,
and the subsequent communication of these observations to
others have long been major problems in psychology. T o build a
general scientific understanding requires starting from a general
agreement on what are the facts, what are the basic observations
across individuals on which the science can be founded. Indi-
viduals have published interesting and often beautiful accounts
of their own mental processes in the psychological literature, but
analysis of these accounts demonstrates little agreement among
them and little agreement among the analyzers that the accounts
are precise descriptions of observable mental processes. Striving
for precise understanding is an important goal of science.
One reaction to this has been behaviorism, which ignores men-
Observation of Internal States *57
tal processes and declares that external behavior, which can be
observed more easily and reliably, is the subject matter of psy-
chology. Many psychologists still accept the behavioristic position
and define psychology as the study of behavior rather than the
study of the mind. T h a t way is certainly easier. One hundred
percent agreement among observers is possible, at least for simple
behaviors. For example, in testing for susceptibility to hypnosis
with the Stanford Hypnotic Susceptibility Scale [144], the exam-
iner suggests to the subject that his arm is feeling heavier and
heavier and will d r o p because of the increased weight. T h e
hypnotists and observers present can easily agree on whether the
subject's arm moves down at least twelve inches within thirty
seconds after the end of the suggestion.
Behaviorism is an extremely valuable tool for studying simple
behaviors, determining what affects them, and learning how to
control them. But it has not been able to deal well with complex
and important h u m a n experiences, such as happiness, love, reli-
gious feelings, purposes. T h e behavioristic approach is of particu-
larly limited value in dealing with d-ASCs because almost all the
interesting and important d-ASC phenomena are completely in-
ternal. A behavioristic approach to the study of a m a j o r psyche-
delic d r u g like LSD, for example, would lead to the conclusion
that LSD is a sedative or tranquilizer, since the behavior most
frequently produced is sitting still and doing nothing!
If we are to understand d-SoCs, introspection must become an
important technique in psychology in spite of the difficulties of
its application. I have primarily used peoples' reports of their
internal experiences in developing the systems approach, even
though these reports are undoubtedly affected by a variety of
biases, limitations, and inadequacies, for such reports are the
most relevant data for studying d-SoCs.
I believe psychology's historical rejection of introspection was
premature: in the search for general laws of the mind, too much
was attempted too soon. Mental phenomena are the most com-
plex phenomena of all. T h e physical sciences, by comparison,
deal with easy subject matter. W e can be encouraged by the fact
that many spiritual psychologies [128] have developed elaborate
vocabularies for describing internal experiences. I do not under-
stand these psychologies well enough to evaluate the validity of
these vocabularies, b u t it is encouraging that others, working
over long periods, have at least developed such vocabularies. T h e
14 2
English language is well suited for making reliable discrimina-
tions among everyday external objects, b u t it is not a good
language for precise work with physical reality. T h e physical
sciences have developed specialized mathematical languages for
such work that are esoteric indeed to the m a n in the street.
Sanskrit, on the other hand, has many presumably precise words
for internal events and states that do not translate well into
English. T h e r e are over twenty words in Sanskrit, for example,
which are translated to mean "consciousness" in English, b u t
which carry different shades of meaning in the original. Develop-
ment of a more precise vocabulary is essential to progress in
understanding consciousness and d-SoCs. If you say you feel
"vibrations" in a d-ASC, what precisely do you mean?
The Observer
In science the word observation usually refers to scrutiny of the

external environment, and the observer is taken for granted. If
the observer is recognized as possessing inherent characteristics
that limit his adequacy to observe, these specific characteristics
are compensated for, as by instrumentally aiding the senses or
adding some constant to the observations; again the observer is
taken for granted. In dealing with the microworld, the particle
level in physics, the observer cannot be taken for granted, for the
process of observation alters the phenomena being observed.
Similarly, when experiential data are used to understand states
of consciousness, the observation process cannot be taken for
granted.
For the system to observe itself, attention/awareness must acti-
vate structures that are capable of observing processes going on
in other structures. T w o ways of doing this seem possible, which
we shall discuss as pure cases, even though they may actually be
mixed. T h e first way is to see the system breaking down into two
semiindependent systems, one of which constitutes the observer
and the other the system to be observed. I notice, for example,
that I am r u b b i n g my left foot as I write and that this action
seems irrelevant to the points I want to make. A moment ago I
was absorbed in the thinking involved in the writing and in
rubbing my foot, b u t some part of me then stepped back for a
moment, under the impetus to find an example to illustrate the
current point, and noticed that I was rubbing my foot. T h e " I "
who observed that I was rubbing my foot is my ordinary self, my
personality, my ordinary d-SoC. T h e m a j o r part of my system
held together, b u t temporarily singled o u t a small, connected
part of itself to be observed. Since I am still my ordinary self, all
my characteristics enter into the observation. T h e r e is n o ob-
jectivity to my own observation of myself. My ordinary self, for
example, is always concerned with whether what I am doing is
useful toward attaining my short-term and long-term goals; thus
the judgment was automatically made that the rubbing of the
foot was a useless waste of energy. Having immediately classified
foot-rubbing as useless, I had n o f u r t h e r interest in observing it
more clearly, seeing what it was like. T h e observation is mixed
with evaluation; most ordinary observation is of this nature.
By contrast, many meditative disciplines take the view that
attention/awareness can achieve a high degree or even com-
plete independence from the structures that constitute a person's
ordinary d-SoC and personality, that a person possesses (or can
develop) an Observer that is highly objective with respect to the
ordinary personality because it is an Observer that is essentially
pure attention/awareness, that has n o judgmental characteristics
of its own. If the Observer had been active, I might have observed
that I was r u b b i n g my foot, b u t there would have been no
structure immediately activated that passed judgment o n this
action. Judgment, after all, means relatively permanent charac-
teristics coded in structure to make comparisons against. T h e
Observer would simply have noted whatever was happening
without judging it.
T h e existence of the Observer or Witness is a reality to many
people, especially those who have attempted to develop such an
Observer by practicing meditative disciplines, and I shall treat it
as an experiential reality.
T h e question of its ultimate reality is difficult. If one starts
from the conservative view of the mind, where awareness is n o
more than a product of the nervous system and brain, the degree
of independence or objectivity of the Observer can only be
relative. T h e Observer may be a semi-independent system with
fewer characteristics than the overall system of consciousness as a
whole, but it is dependent on the operation of neurologically
based structures and so is ultimately limited and shaped by
them; it is also programmed to some extent in the enculturation
process. Hilgard [26] has found the concept of such a partially
dissociated Observer useful in understanding hypnotic analgesia.

In the radical view of the mind, awareness is (or can become)
different from the brain and nervous system. Here partial to total
independence of, and objectivity with respect to, the m i n d / b r a i n
can be attained by the Observer. T h e ultimate degree of this
objectivity then depends on whether awareness per se, whatever
its ultimate n a t u r e is, has properties that limit it.
It is not always easy to make this clear distinction between the
observer and the Observer. Many times, for example, when I am
attempting to function as an Observer, I Observe myself doing
certain things, but this Observation immediately activates some
aspect of the structure of my ordinary personality, which then
acts as an observer connected with various value judgments that
are immediately activated. I pass from the function of Observing
from outside the system to observing from inside the system, from
what feels like relatively objective Observation to judgmental
observation by my conscience or superego.
Some meditative disciplines, as in the vipassana meditation
discussed earlier, strive to enable their practitioners to maintain
the Observer for long periods, possibly permanently. T h e matter
becomes rather complex, however, because a major job for the
Observer is to Observe the actions of the observer: having Ob-
served yourself doing some action, you then Observe your con-
science become activated, rather than becoming completely caught
u p in the conscience observation and losing the Observer func-
tion. Such self-Observation provides much data for understand-
ing the structure of one's own consciousness. For a comprehensive
discussion of this method of understanding, I refer the reader to
Riordan's and Goleman's chapter in Transpersonal Psychologies
[128].
Self-Observation During Transition Periods
T h e distinction between these two kinds of observers is impor-

tant in considering the transition period between two d-SoCs. If
we ask questions about what phenomena are experienced during
the transition period, we must ask who is going to make these
experiential observations for us. Since the ordinary observer is
the structure, then the radical destructuring necessary for transi-
tion into a d-ASC eliminates the ability to observe. At worst, if
there is total destructuring we can expect no direct experiential
observation of the transitional period, perhaps only a feeling of
blankness. Such blackouts are often reported.
Yet people do report transitional experiences. Destructuring of
the b-SoC may not be total, certain parts of it may hold together
as subsystems through the transition period, partial observations
may be made by these subsystems, and such observations are
recoverable o n return to the b-SoC or in the d-ASC. But the
observations are necessarily limited and incomplete, since they
come from a partially incapacitated observer.
Now consider the role of the Observer, if it is well developed
in a particular person, during the transition from one d-SoC to
another. Because the Observer is either not at all based in par-
ticular structures, only partially based in particular structures, or
based in structures that are not part of the b-SoC undergoing
destructuring, it should be able to observe transitional phenom-
ena. Exactly this sort of phenomenal report has come from re-
porters who feel they have a fairly well-developed Observer.
They believe this Observer can make essentially continuous ob-
servations not only within a particular d-SoC b u t during the
transition among two or more d-SoCs.
For example, Evans-Wentz [17] describes the following Ti-
betan yogic exercise for comprehending the nature of dreaming:
That which hath been called "the initial comprehending of

the dream," refereth to resolving to maintain unbroken con-
tinuity of consciousness throughout both the waking-state and
the dream-state . . . sleep on the right side, as a lion doth.
With the thumb and ring-finger of the right hand press the
pulsation of the throat-arteries; stop the nostrils with the fin-
gers (of the left hand) ; and let the saliva collect in the throat.
Evans-Wentz comments:
As a result of these methods, the yogin enjoys as vivid con-

sciousness in the dream-state as in the waking-state; and in
passing from one state to another experiences n o break in the
continuity of memory.
I can say n o more about the nature of the Observer here

because we know so little about it in o u r Western scientific
tradition. However, I think it is extremely important to find out
14 2
to what extent the Observer's apparent objectivity is a reality and
to what extent a fiction. Insofar as it is a reality, it offers an
objectivity and a possible escape from cultural consensus reality
conditionings that are highly important.
I must, however, caution the reader against taking this discus-
sion of the Observer too concretely. I am using words to describe
a certain kind of experience, b u t the words are not the experi-
ence. As Korzybski said: " T h e m a p is not the territory." Unfor-
tunately, we not only habitually mistake the m a p for the
territory, we prefer the m a p to the territory—it is so much
clearerl I find it difficult to express the concept of Observing, and
words can do n o more than create analogies that point to aspects
of your own experience. T h e term Observer is a way of referring
to an important aspect of experience, a process, but we must not
become too attached to the concept of one "thing" separate from
and observing another "thing."
12
Identity States
SHKHKHKHKHXHKHXHKHXHKH^
Self-observation, observation of others, and psychoanalytic data

indicate that various stimuli can produce marked reorganizations
of ego functioning very rapidly, even though these all remain
within the consensus reality definitions of "normal" conscious-
ness. These identity states are much like d-SoCs and can be
studied in the systems approach framework. They are hard to
observe in ordinary life because of the ease and rapidity of
transition, their emotional charge, and other reasons. T h e isola-
tion of knowledge and experience in various identity states is
responsible for much of the psychopathology of everyday life.
Definition of Identity States

T h e concept of d-SoCs comes to us in commonsense form, as
well as in terms of my initial research interests, from people's
experiences of radically altered states of consciousness—states
like drunkenness, dreaming, marijuana intoxication, certain
meditative states. These represent such radical shifts in the pat-
terning, the system properties of consciousness, that most people
experiencing them are forced to notice that the state of their
consciousness is quite different, even if they are poor observers. A
person need not have developed an Observer in order to notice
such a change in his state of consciousness: so many things are so
clearly different that the observation is forced on him.
14 2
Although this is the origin and the main focus of the concept
of d-SoCs, the systems approach is applicable to important varia-
tions occurring within the overall pattern we call the ordinary d-
SoC, variations that can be termed identity states. My own self-
observation and much scattered psychological data, particularly
data gathered in the course of psychoanalytic investigations,
indicate that as different situations impinge o n a person and
activate different emotional drives, distinct changes in the orga-
nization of his ego can take place. Certain drives become inhib-
ited or activated, and the whole constellation of psychological
functioning alters its configuration a r o u n d them.
T h e most cogent formulation of these data into a comprehen-
sive picture is that of the Armenian philosopher and spiritual
teacher, George Gurdjieff. T h e following selection from Ouspen-
sky's report of Gurdjieff's early lectures [48, pp. 59-60] expresses
Gurdjieff's idea that we have many "I's," many little egos:
"One of man's important mistakes," he said, "one which

must be remembered, is his illusion in regard to his I.
"Man such as we know him, the 'man-machine,' the man who
cannot 'do,' and with whom and through whom everything
'happens,' cannot have a permanent and single I. His I changes
as quickly as his thoughts, feelings, and moods, and he makes a
profound mistake in considering himself always one and the
same person; in reality he is always a different person, not the
one he was a moment ago.
"Man has no permanent and unchangeable I. Every thought,
every mood, every desire, every sensation, says 'I.' And in each
case it seems to be taken for granted that this I belongs to the
Whole, to the whole man, and that a thought, a desire, or an
aversion is expressed by this Whole. In actual fact there is no
foundation whatever for this assumption. Man's every thought
and desire appears and lives quite separately and indepen-
dently of the Whole. And the Whole never expresses itself, for
the simple reason that it exists, as such, only physically as a
thing, and in the abstract as a concept. Man has no individ-
ual I. But there are, instead, hundreds and thousands of sep-
arate small I's, very often entirely unknown to one another,
never coming into contact, or, on the contrary, hostile to each
other, mutually exclusive and incompatible. Each minute, each
moment, man is saying or thinking 'I.' And each time his I is
different. Just now it was a thought, now it is a desire, now a
Identity States
sensation, now another thought, and so on, endlessly. Man is
a plurality. Man's name is legion.
"The alternation of I's, their continual obvious struggle for
supremacy, is controlled by accidental external influences.
Warmth, sunshine, fine weather, immediately call up a whole
group of I's. Cold, fog, rain, call up another group of I's, other
associations, other feelings, other actions. There is nothing in
man able to control this change of I's, chiefly because man
does not notice, or know of it; he lives always in the last I.
Some I's, of course, are stronger than others. But it is not their
own conscious strength; they have been created by the strength
of accidents or mechanical external stimuli. Education, imita-
tion, reading, the hypnotism of religion, caste, and traditions,
or the glamour of new slogans, create very strong I's in man's
personality, which dominate whole series of other, weaker, I's.
But their strength is the strength of the 'rolls' 1 in the centers.
"And all I's making up a man's personality have the same ori-
gin as these 'rolls'; they are the results of external influences;
and both are set in motion and controlled by fresh external
influences.
"Man has no individuality. H e has no single, big I. Man is
divided into a multiplicity of small I's.
"And each separate small I is able to call itself by the name
of the Whole, to act in the name of the Whole, to agree or dis-
agree, to give promises, to make decisions, with which another
I or the Whole will have to deal. T h i s explains why people so
often make decisions and so seldom carry them out. A man
decides to get up early beginning from the following day. One
I, or a group of I's, decide this. But getting up is the business
of another I who entirely disagrees with the decision and may
even know absolutely nothing about it. Of course the man will
again go o n sleeping in the morning and in the evening he
will again decide to get up early. In some cases this may as-
sume very unpleasant consequences for a man. A small acci-
dental I may promise something, not to itself, but to someone
else at a certain moment simply out of vanity or for amuse-
ment. T h e n it disappears, but the man, that is, the whole
combination of other I's who are quite innocent of this, may
have to pay for it all his life. It is the tragedy of the human
being that any small I has the right to sign checks and promis-
sory notes and the man, that is, the Whole, has to meet them.
i The analogy is to old phonograph rolls: we would say "programs" with

a computer analogy today [C. T.].
14 2
People's whole lives often consist in paying off the promissory
notes of small accidental I's."
Gurdjieff's concept of these rapidly alternating I's is similar to

the systems approach concept of d-SoCs. If we call each I an
identity state, then each (1) has an overall pattern of function-
ing, a gestalt, which gives it a system identity a n d distinguishes it
from other identity states; (2) is composed of structures/subsys-
tems, psychological functions, skills, memories; (3) possesses
unique properties not present in other identity states; (4) pre-
sumably has some stabilizing processes, although apparently
fewer than the ordinary d-SoC as a whole, since identity states
can change so rapidly; (5) functions as a tool for coping with the
world, with varying degrees of effectiveness; and (6) requires an
induction process to transit from one identity state to another, a
requisite stimulus to bring on a new identity state.
These alterations in functioning that I call identity states can
thus be usefully studied with the systems approach to conscious-
ness. Yet they are almost never identified as d-SoCs in ordinary
people, for several reasons.
First, each person has a large repertoire of these identity states
and transits between one and another of them extremely readily,
practically instantly. T h u s , n o obvious lapses or transitional phe-
nomena occur that would make him likely to notice the tran-
sitions.
Second, all these identity states share much psychological func-
tioning in common, such as speaking English, responding to the
same proper name, wearing the same sets of clothes. These many
common properties make differences difficult to notice.
T h i r d , all a person's ordinarily used identity states share in his
culturally defined consensus reality. Although certain aspects of
reality are emphasized by particular identity states, the culture as
a whole implicitly allows a wide variety of identity states in its
definitions of "normal" consciousness and consensus reality.
W i t h i n the cultural consensus reality, for example, there are well-
understood concepts, perceptions, and allowed behaviors associ-
ated with being angry, being sad, feeling sexual desire, being
afraid.
Fourth, a person's identification is ordinarily very high, com-
plete, with each of these identity states. H e projects the feeling of
Identity States
" I " onto it (the Sense of Identity subsystem function discussed in
Chapter 8 ) . This, coupled with the culturally instilled need to
believe that he is a single personality, causes him to gloss over
distinctions. T h u s he says, " I am angry," " I am sad," rather than,
"A state of sadness has organized mental functioning differently
from a state of anger." T h e culture also reinforces a person for
behaving as if he were a unity.
Fifth, identity states are driven by needs, fears, attachments,
defensive maneuvers, coping mechanisms, and this highly
charged quality of an identity state makes it unlikely that the
person involved will be engaged in self-observation.
Sixth, many identity states have, as a central focus, emotional
needs and drives that are socially unacceptable or only partially
acceptable. Given the fact that people need to feel accepted, an
individual may have many important reasons for not noticing
that he has discrete identity states. T h u s , when he is in a socially
"normal" identity state, being a good person, he may be unable
to be aware of a different identity state that sometimes occurs
in which he hates his best friend. T h e two states are incom-
patible, so automatized defense mechanisms (Gurdjieff calls
them buffers) prevent him from being aware of the one identity
state while in the other. T h i s is, in systems approach terminol-
ogy, state-specific knowledge. Ordinarily, special psychothera-
peutic techniques are required to make a person aware of these
contradictory feelings and identity states within himself. Medi-
tative practices designed to create the Observer also facilitate this
sort of knowledge.
T h e development of a n Observer can allow a person consider-
able access to observing different identity states. An outside ob-
server can often clearly infer different identity states, b u t a
person who has not developed the Observer function well may
never notice his own many transitions from one identity state to
another. T h u s ordinary consciousness, or what society values as
"normal" consciousness, may actually consist of a large n u m b e r
of d-SoCs, identity states. But the overall similarities between
these identity states and the difficulty of observing them, for the
reasons discussed above, lead us to think of ordinary conscious-
ness as a relatively unitary state.
Gurdjieff sees the rapid, unnoticed transitions between iden-
tity states, a n d their relative isolation from one another, as the
14 2
major cause of the psychopathology of everyday life. I agree with
him, and believe this topic deserves intensive psychological re-
search.
Functions of Identity States
An identity state, like a d-SoC, has coping functions. T h e

culture a person is born into actively inhibits some of his h u m a n
potentials, as well as developing some. T h u s , even in the most
smoothly functioning cultures, there is b o u n d to be some dis-
harmony, some conflict between a person's emerging and poten-
tial self a n d the demands placed on him to which he must
conform in one way or another if he is to survive in that social
environment. T h e psychopathology of everyday life is abun-
dantly obvious and has been amply documented by psychological
studies.
At the fringes of consciousness, then, there is a vast unknown,
not simply of relatively neutral potentials that never developed,
b u t of emotionally and cognitively frightening things, conflicts
that were never resolved, experiences that did not fit consensus
reality, feelings that were never expressed, problems that were
never faced. Immersion in consensus reality in the ordinary d-
SoC is a protection from this potentially frightening and over-
whelming unknown; it is the safe, cultivated clearing in the
dark, unexplored forest of the mind.
An identity state is a specialized version of the ordinary d-SoC,
a structure acceptable to consensus reality (ignoring obviously
pathological identity states). T h e extrainformational " T h i s is
m e " quality from the Sense of Identity subsystem added to cer-
tain contents/structures constellates the energies of consciousness
around them and produces an identity, a role 2 that a person is
partially or completely identified with for the time. T h e identity
"eats energy."
A particular identity state thus acts as loading stabilization for
the ordinary d-SoC; it absorbs much available energy that might
otherwise activate unknown and perhaps implicitly feared con-
tents that are not acceptable. W h e n you "know" who you are,
when you take on an identity state, then you immediately have
2 I use the term role to indicate that a person consciously knows he is acting
a part that is not really him, and the term identity state to mean he has
become the part. Clearly, the degree of identification can vary rapidly.
Identity States
criteria for dealing with various situations. If I a m a "father" in
this moment I know that certain things are expected and desired
of me and I can cope well within that framework with situations
involving my children. If the situation changes and I now be-
come a "professor," then I have a new set of rules on how to cope
with situations involving people who have identified with the
roles of "students."
Some of a person's most important problems arise when he is
in an identity state that is not really suited to the situation: my
children are u n h a p p y when I am a professor when they want a
father, and I am not comfortable when my students want me to
be like a father when I think the role of professor is more
appropriate.
Being caught in a situation in which one has n o ready role to
use and identify with is unusual. For most people such situations
can be highly confusing or frightening, since they do not know
how to think or act. T h e y can become susceptible to any author-
ity who offers ready-made roles/solutions in such situations. If
the country is "going to hell" and nobody seems to have any
answer, it may feel much better to be a "patriot" and blame
"traitors" than to live with your confusion. O n the other hand,
lack of an immediately available role can offer a unique oppor-
tunity to temporarily escape from the tyranny of roles.
Once a person has identified with a role, the resulting identity
state stabilizes his d-SoC not only through loading stabilization,
b u t through the other three stabilization processes discussed in
Chapter 6. W h e n he is coping successfully and thus feeling good
in a particular identity state, this constitutes positive feedback
stabilization; he tends to engage in more thoughts and actions
that expand and strengthen the identity state. If the fear of
having no identity is strong a n d / o r the rewards from a particular
identity state are high, this can hinder escape from that identity
state. Consider how many successful businessmen work them-
selves to death, not knowing how to stop being businessmen for
even short periods, or how many men die within a few years of
retiring, not having their work identity to sustain them.
Success from being in a particular identity state encourages a
person to avoid or suppress thoughts and actions that tend to
disrupt that state: this is negative feedback stabilization. A "good
soldier" is obtaining valuable information about enemy troop
movements—information that may save the lives of his buddies—
by torturing a native child: he actively suppresses his own iden-
tity state of a " f a t h e r " in order to function effectively in his
"soldier" identity.
Being in a particular identity state also functions as limiting
stabilization. T h e identity leads to selective perception to make
perceptions congruent with the reigning identity state. Certain
kinds of perceptions that might activate other identity states are
repressed. T h e tortured child is perceived as an "enemy agent,"
not as a "child." T h i s keeps emotional and attention/awareness
energy out of empathic processes that, if activated, would under-
mine and disrupt the "soldier" identity.
Identity states, then, are both tools for coping with the en-
vironment and ways of avoiding the unknown. T h e degree to
which they serve mainly one or the other function probably
varies tremendously from individual to individual and identity
to identity. Some people are terribly afraid of anything outside
the few narrow identities they always function in: by staying in
one or the other of those identity states constantly, they never
feel the fear of the unknown. Others have less fear of the un-
known, b u t find the rewards from functioning in a few identity
states are so high that they have n o real need or interest to go
outside them. T h e latter type probably characterizes a stable,
well-integrated society, with most citizens quite content in so-
cially accepted identity states.
For discussion of radically altered discrete states like hypnosis
or drunkenness, the concept of the ordinary d-SoC as relatively
unitary is useful. As the systems approach becomes more articu-
lated, however, we shall have to deal with these identity states
that exist within the boundaries of the ordinary d-SoC and that
probably also function within the boundaries of various d-ASCs.
In this book, I continue to use the terms discrete state of
consciousness and discrete altered state of consciousness to refer
to the rather radical alterations like hypnosis or drunkenness
that gave rise to the concept in the first place. I use the phrase
identity state to indicate the more subtle division.
Strategies in Using
the Systems Approach
<HXHJ0tt<H*«ttHKHWKHtt^
T h e systems approach generates a number of strategies for study-

ing states of consciousness. Some of these are unique conse-
quences of using a systems approach, some are just good-sense
strategies that could come from other approaches. Many of these
methodological strategies have been touched on in previous chap-
ters; some are brought out in later chapters. Here I bring together
most of these methodological points and introduce some new
ones.
The Constructed Nature of Consciousness

Realizing that the ordinary d-SoC is not natural and given,
but constructed according to semiarbitrary cultural constraints,
gives us the freedom to ask some basic questions that might not
otherwise occur to us. And it should make us more cautious
about labeling other states as "pathological" and other cultures
as "primitive." T h e Australian bushmen, for example, are almost
universally considered one of the world's most primitive cultures
because of their nomadic life and their paucity of material pos-
sessions. Yet Pearce [49] argues that, from another point of view,
these people are among the most sophisticated in the world, for
they have organized their entire culture around achieving a
certain d-ASC, which they refer to as the experience of "Dream
Time." O u r bias toward material possessions, however, makes us
unable to see this.
14 2
Recognizing the semiarbitrary nature of the system of the
ordinary d-SoC that has been constructed in our culture should
make us especially aware of the implicit assumptions built into
it, assumptions we so take for granted that it never occurs to us to
question them. I n Transpersonal Psychologies [128], nine expert
practitioners of various spiritual disciplines wrote about their
disciplines not as religions, but as psychologies. In the course of
editing these contributions, I was increasingly struck by the way
certain assumptions are made in various spiritual psychologies
that are different from or contrary to those made in Western
psychology. As a result, I wiote a chapter outlining several dozen
assumptions that have become implicit for Western psychologists
a n d that, by virtue of being implicit, have great control over us.
I have f o u n d that when asked what some of these assumptions
are, I have great difficulty recalling them: I have to go back and
look at what I wrote! Although my study of systems that make
different assumptions brought these implicit assumptions to
mind, they have already sunk back to the implicit level. W e
should not underestimate the power of culturally given assump-
tions in controlling us, a n d we cannot overestimate the impor-
tance of trying to come to grips with them.
We should also recognize that the enculturation process, dis-
cussed earlier, ties the reward and punishment subsystems to the
maintenance and defense of ordinary consensus reality. W e are
afraid of experiencing d-ASCs that are foreign to us and this fear
strengthens our tendency to classify them as abnormal or patho-
logical and to avoid them. It also f u r t h e r strengthens our resolve
to deal with all reality from the point of view of the ordinary d-
SoC, using only the tool or coping function of the ordinary d-
SoC. But since the ordinary d-SoC is a limited tool, good for some
things b u t not for others, we invariably distort parts of reality.
T h e tendency to ignore or fight what we do not consider valu-
able and to distort our perceptions to make them fit is good for
maintaining a cohesive social system, b u t poor for promoting
scientific enquiry. A possible solution is the proposal for estab-
lishing state-specific sciences, discussed in Chapter 16.
The Importance of Awareness
T h e systems approach stresses the importance of a t t e n t i o n /

awareness as an activating energy within any d-SoC. Yet if we ask
Strategies in Using the Systems Approach 173
what awareness is or how we direct it and so call it attention, we
cannot supply satisfactory answers.
W e may deal with this problem simply by taking basic aware-
ness for granted, as we are forced to do at this level of develop-
ment of the systems approach, and work with it even though we
do not know what it is. After all, we do not really know what
gravity is in any ultimate sense, b u t we can measure what it does
and from that information develop, for example, a science of
ballistics. W e can learn much about d-SoCs in the systems ap-
proach if we just take basic awareness and attention/awareness
energy for granted, b u t we must eventually focus on questions
about the nature of awareness. W e will have to consider the
conservative and radical views of the m i n d to determine whether
awareness is simply the product of brain a n d nervous system
functioning or whether it is something more.
System Qualities
T h e systems approach emphasizes that even though a d-SoC is

made u p of components, the overall system has gestalt qualities
that cannot be predicted from knowledge of the components
alone. T h u s , while investigation of the components, the subsys-
tems a n d structures, is important, such investigative emphasis
must be balanced by studies of the overall system's functioning.
We must become familiar with the pattern of the overall system's
functioning so we can avoid wasting energy on researching com-
ponents that t u r n out to be relatively u n i m p o r t a n t in the overall
system. We might, for example, avoid spending excessive research
effort and money, as is now being done, on investigating physio-
logical effects of m a r i j u a n a , since examination of the overall
nature of marijuana intoxication, as we have seen, indicates that
psychological factors are at least as important as the d r u g factor
in determining the nature of the d-ASC produced.
T h e systems approach also emphasizes the need to examine the
system's functioning u n d e r the conditions in which it was de-
signed to function. W e are not yet sure what, if anything, d-
ASCs are particularly designed for, what particular function they
have. W e must find this out. On the other hand, we should try
not to waste effort studying d-ASCs under conditions they were
clearly not designed for. For example, conducting studies that
show a slight decrement in arithmetical skills u n d e r m a r i j u a n a
intoxication is of some interest, b u t since no record exists of
anyone using m a r i j u a n a in order to solve arithmetical problems,
such studies are somewhat irrelevant. T h i s emphasizes a point
made earlier: that it is generally useless to characterize any d-
ASC as "better" or "worse" than any other d-SoC. T h e question
should always be, "Better or worse for what particular task?" All
d-ASCs we know of seem to be associated with improved func-
tioning for certain kinds of tasks a n d worsened functioning for
others. 1 An important research aim, then, is to find out what d-
ASCs are optimal for particular tasks and how to train people to
enter efficiently into that d-ASC when they need to perform that
task. T h i s runs counter to a strong, implicit assumption in our
culture that the ordinary d-SoC is the best one for all tasks; that
assumption is highly questionable when it is made explicit. Re-
member that in any d-SoC there is a limited selection from the
full range of h u m a n potential. While some of these latent h u m a n
potentials may be developable in the ordinary d-SoC, some are
more available in a d-ASC. Insofar as we consider some of these
potentials valuable, we must learn what d-SoCs they are operable
in and how to train them for good functioning within those d-
SoCs.
T h i s last point is not a n academic issue: enormous numbers of
people are now personally experimenting with d-ASCs to attain
some of these potentials. While much gain will undoubtedly
come out of this personal experimentation, we should also expect
much loss.
As we have seen, what for one individual is a d-ASC may, for

another individual, be merely part of the region of his ordinary d-
SoC, one continuous experiential space. By following the com-
mon experimental procedure of using group data rather than
data from individual subjects, we can (see Chapter 9) get the
impression of continuity (one d-SoC) when two or more d-SoCs
actually occurred within the experimental procedure. W e should
indeed search for general laws of the m i n d that hold across
l Objectivity is hard to maintain here, (or functions that are improved in a

particular d-SoC may not be valued functions for the culture of the investi-
gator. The first thing we can do is be explicit about our value judgments,
rather than pretending we do not make them.
individuals, b u t we must beware of enunciating such laws pre-
maturely without first understanding the behavior and experi-
ences of the individuals within o u r experiments.
Recognizing the importance of individual differences has many
applications outside the laboratory. If a friend tries some spiri-
tual technique and has a marvelous experience as a result, and
you try the same technique with no result, there is not necessarily
something wrong with you. Rather, because of differences in the
structures of your ordinary d-SoCs, that particular technique
mobilizes attention/awareness energy in an effective way to pro-
duce a certain experience for him, b u t is not an effective tech-
nique for you.
Operationalism, Relevant and Irrelevant
Operationalism is a way of rigorously defining some concept by

describing the actual operations required to produce it. T h u s a n
operational definition of the concept of "nailing" is defined by
the operations (1) pick u p a hammer in your right hand; (2)
pick u p a nail in your left hand; (3) p u t the point of the nail on
a wood surface and hold the nail perpendicular to the wood
surface; (4) strike the head of the nail with the h a m m e r a n d
then lift the hammer again; a n d (5) repeat'step 4 until the head
of the nail is flush with the surface of the wood. An operational
definition is a precise definition, allowing total reproducibility.
Some claim that whatever cannot be defined operationally is
not a legitimate subject for scientific investigation. T h a t is silly.
N o one can precisely specify all the steps necessary to experience
"being in love," b u t that is hardly justification for ignoring the
state of being in love as an i m p o r t a n t h u m a n situation worthy of
study. A f u r t h e r problem is that in psychology, operationalism
implicitly means physical operationalism, specifying the overt,
physically observable steps in a process in order to define it. In
the search for an objectivity like that of the physical sciences,
psychologists emphasize aspects of their discipline that can be
physically measured, b u t often at the cost of irrelevant studies.
An example is the equating of the hypnotic state, the d-ASC of
hypnosis, with the performance of the hypnotic induction proce-
dure. T h e hypnotic state is a psychological construct or, if induc-
tion has been successful, an experiential reality to the hypno-
tized person. It is not defined by external measurements. T h e r e
are no obvious behavioral manifestations that clearly indicate
hypnosis has occurred and n o known physiological changes that
invariably accompany hypnosis. T h e hypnotic procedure, on the
other hand, the words that the hypnotist says aloud, is highly
amenable to physical measurement. An investigator can film the
hypnotic procedure, tape-record the hypnotist's voice, measure the
sound intensity of the hypnotist's voice, and accumulate a variety
of precise, reproducible physical measurements. But that investi-
gator makes a serious mistake if he then describes the responses of
the "hypnotized subject" and means by "hypnotized subject" the
person to whom the hypnotist said the words. T h e fact that the
hypnotist performs the procedure does not guarantee that the
subject enters the d-ASC of hypnosis. As discussed earlier, a
person's b-SoC is multiply stabilized, and n o single induction
procedure or combination of induction procedures will, with
certainty, destabilize the ordinary state and produce a particular
d-ASC.
I stress that the concept of the d-SoC is a psychological, experi-
ential construct. T h u s , the ultimate criterion for determining
whether a person is in a d-ASC is a m a p of his experiences that
shows him to be in a region of psychological space we have termed
a d-ASC. T h e external performance of an induction technique
is not the same as achievement of the desired d-ASC. A hypnotic
induction procedure does not necessarily induce hypnosis; ly-
ing down in bed does not necessarily induce sleeping or dreaming;
performing a meditation exercise does not necessarily induce a
meditative state.
W h e n an induction procedure is physiological, as when a drug
is used, the temptation to equate the induction procedure with
the altered state is especially great. But the two are not the same,
even in this case. As discussed in Chapter 10, smoking m a r i j u a n a
does not necessarily cause a transition out of the b-SoC. Nor, as is
shown in Chapter 14, is knowledge of the dose of the d r u g an
adequate specification of depth.
W e do need to describe techniques in detail in our reports of d-
ASCs, b u t we must also specify the degree to which these tech-
niques were actually effective in altering a subject's state of
consciousness, and we must specify this for each individual sub-
ject. In practice, physiological criteria may be sometimes so highly
correlated with experiential reports indicating a d-ASC that
those criteria can be considered an indicator that the d-ASC has
occurred. T h i s is the case with stage 1 R E M dreaming. Behavioral
criteria may be similarly correlated with experiential data,
though I am not sure any such criteria are well correlated at
present. But the primary criterion is an actual assessment of the
kind of experiential space the subject is in that indicates the
induction procedure was effective.
Operationalism, then, which uses external, physical, and be-
havioral criteria, is inadequate for dealing with many of the most
important phenomena of d-ASCs. Most of the phenomena that
define d-ASCs are internal and may never show obvious behav-
ioral or physiological 2 manifestations.
Ultimately we need an experiential operationalism, a set of
statements such as (1) if you stop all evaluation processes for at
least three minutes, (2) and you concurrently invest n o atten-
tion/awareness energy into the Interoception subsystem for per-
ceiving the body, (3) so that all perception of the body fades out,
then (4) you will experience a mental phenomenon of such and
such a type. O u r present language is not well suited to this, as
discussed earlier, so we are a long way from a good experiential
operationalism. T h e level of precision of understanding and
communication that an experiential operationalism will bring is
very high; nevertheless, we should not overvalue operationalism
and abandon hope of understanding a phenomenon we cannot
define operationally.
Predictive Capabilities of the Systems Approach
I n Chapter 8 I briefly describe some basic subsystems we can

recognize in terms of current knowledge. We can now see how
the systems approach can be used to make testable predictions
about d-SoCs.
T h e basic predictive operation is cyclical. T h e first step is to
observe the properties of structures/subsystems as well as you can
from the current state of knowledge. You ask questions in terms
of what you already know. T h e n you take the second step of
organizing the observations to make better theoretical models of
the structures/subsystems you have observed. T h e third step is to
2 I refer to present-day levels of physiological measurement: in principle, if

we could measure the microstructures of the brain finely enough, we could
distinguish d-ASCs that are presently not distinguishable from scalp record-
ings of brain activity.
Higher States of Consciousness 187
predict, on the basis of the models, how the structures/subsys-
tems can and cannot interact with each other u n d e r various
conditions. Fourth, you test these predictions by looking for or
attempting to create d-SoCs that fit or do not fit these improved
structure/subsystem models and seeing how well the models
work. T h i s takes you back to the first step, starting the cycle
again, f u r t h e r altering or refining your models, etc.
T h e systems approach provides a conceptual framework for
organizing knowledge about states of consciousness and a process
for continually improving knowledge about the structures/sub-
systems. T h e ten subsystems sketched in Chapter 8 are crude
concepts at this stage of o u r knowledge and should eventually be
replaced with more precise concepts about the exact nature of a
larger n u m b e r of more basic subsystems and about their possibil-
ities for interaction to form systems.
I have given little thought so far to making predictions based
on the present state of the systems approach. T h e far more
urgent need at this current, chaotic stage of the new science of
consciousness is to organize the mass of unrelated data we have
into manageable form. I believe that most of the data now
available can be usefully organized in the systems approach and
that to do so will be a clear step forward. T h e precise fitting of
the available mass of data into this approach will, however, take
years of work.
One obvious prediction of the systems theory is that because
the differing properties of structures restrict their interaction,
there is a definite limit to the n u m b e r of stable d-SoGs. Ignoring
enculturation, we can say that the n u m b e r is large b u t limited by
the biological/neurological/psychical endowment of man in
general, by humanness. T h e number of possible states for a
particular individual is even smaller because enculturation fur-
ther limits the qualities of structures.
My systems approach to consciousness appears to differ from
Lilly's approach [34, 35] to consciousness as a h u m a n biocom-
puter. I predict that only certain configurations can occur and
constitute stable states of consciousness, d-SoCs. Lilly's model
seems to treat the m i n d as a general-purpose computer, capable
of being programmed in any way one can conceive of: "In the
province of the mind, what one believes to be true either is true
or becomes true within certain limits." Personal conversations
between Lilly and I suggest that our positions actually d o not
differ that much. T h e phrase "within certain lim important
here. I agree entirely with Lilly's belief that what we currently
believe to be the limits, the "basic" structures limiting the m i n d
are probably mostly arbitrary, programmed structures peculiar to
o u r culture and personal history. It is the discovery of the really
basic structures behind these arbitrary cultural/personal ones
that will tell us about the basic nature of the h u m a n mind. T h e
earlier discussion of individual differences is highly relevant
here, for it can be applied across cultures: two regions of experi-
ential space that are d-SoCs for many or all individuals in a
particular culture may be simply parts of one larger region of
experiential space for many or all individuals in another culture.
I stress again, however, that our need today, and the primary
value of the systems approach, is useful organization of data and
guidance in asking questions, not prediction. Prediction and
hypothesis-testing will come into their own in a few years as our
understanding of structures/subsystems sharpens.
Stability and Growth
Implicit in the act of m a p p i n g an individual's psychological

experiences is the assumption of a reasonable degree of stability
of the individual's structure and functioning over time. T h e
work necessary to obtain a m a p would be wasted if the m a p had
to be changed before it had been used.
Ordinarily we assume that an individual's personality or ordi-
nary d-SoC is reasonably stable over quite long periods, generally
over a lifetime once his basic personality has been formed by late
adolescence. Exceptions to this assumption occur when indi-
viduals are exposed to severe, abnormal conditions, such as dis-
asters, which may radically alter parts of their personality struc-
ture, or to psychotherapy and related psychological growth
techniques. Although the personality change following psycho-
therapy is often rather small, leaving the former m a p of the
individual's personality relatively useful, it is sometimes quite
large.
T h e validity of assuming this kind of stability in relation to
research o n d-SoCs is questionable. T h e people who are most
interested in experiencing d-ASCs are dissatisfied with the ordi-
nary d-SoC and so may be actively trying to change it. But
studies confined to people not very interested in d-ASCs (so-
called naive subjects) may be dealing with an unusual group
who are afraid of d-ASCs. Stability of the b-SoC or of repeatedly
induced d-ASCs is something to be assessed, not assumed. T h i s is
particularly true for a person's early experiences with a d-ASC,
where he is learning how to function in the d-ASC with each
new occurrence. I n my study of the experiences of m a r i j u a n a in-
toxication [103, 105], I deliberately excluded users who had had
less than a dozen experiences of being stoned o n marijuana. T h e
experience of these naive users would have mainly reflected learn-
ing to cope with a new state, rather t h a n the common, stable
characteristics of the d-ASC of being stoned.
An individual may eventually learn to merge two d-SoCs into
one. T h e merger may be a matter of transferring some state-
specific experiences and potentials back into the ordinary state,
so that eventually most or many state-specific experiences are
available in the ordinary state. T h e ordinary state, in turn,
undergoes certain changes in its configuration. Or, growth or
therapeutic work at the extremes of functioning of two d-SoCs
may gradually bring the two closer until experiences are possible
all through the former "forbidden region."
Pseudomerging of two d-SoCs may also be possible. As an
individual more and more frequently makes the transition be-
tween the two states, he may automate the transition process to
the point where he n o longer has any awareness of it, a n d / o r
efficient routes through the transition process are so thoroughly
learned that the transition takes almost no time or effort. T h e n ,
unless the individual or an observer was examining his whole
pattern of functioning, his state of consciousness might appear to
be single simply because transitions were not noticed. T h i s latter
case would be like the rapid, automated transitions between
identity states within the ordinary state of consciousness.
Since a greater number of h u m a n potentials are available in
two states than in one, such merging or learning of rapid transi-
tions can be seen as growth. Whether the individual or his
culture sees it as growth depends o n cultural valuations of the
added potentials and the individual's own intelligence in actual
utilization of the two states. T h e availability of more potentials
does not guarantee their wise or adaptive use.
Sequential Strategies in Studying d-SoCs
T h e sequential strategies for investigating d-SoCs that follow

from the systems approach are outlined below. These strategies
are idealistic and subject to modification in pract'
First, the general experiential, behavioral or physiological
components of a rough concept of a particular d-ASC are
mapped. T h e data may come from informal interviews with a
number of people who have experienced that state, from per-
sonal experience with it, or from a fairly detailed survey of many
peoples' experiences in that d-ASC. T h i s exercise supplies a feel-
ing for the overall territory and its main features.
T h e n the experiential space of various individuals is mapped
to determine whether their experiences show the distinctive
clusterings and patternings that constitute d-SoCs. T h i s step
overlaps somewhat with the first, for the investigator assumes or
has data to indicate a distinctness about the d-ASC for at least
some individuals as a start of his interest.
For individuals who show this discreteness, the third step of
more detailed individual investigation is carried out. For those
who do not, studies are begun across individuals to ascertain why
some show various discrete states and others do not: in addition
to recognizing the existence of individual differences, the re-
searcher must find o u t why they exist and what function they
serve.
T h e third step is to m a p the various d-SoCs of particular
individuals in detail. W h a t are the m a i n features of each state?
W h a t induction procedures produce the state? W h a t deinduction
procedures cause a person to transit out of it? W h a t are the limits
of stability of the state? W h a t uses, advantages does the state have?
W h a t disadvantages or dangers? H o w is the d e p t h measured? W h a t
are the convenient marker phenomena to rapidly measure depth?
W i t h this background, the investigator can profitably ask ques-
tions about interindividual similarities of the various discrete
states. Are they really enough alike across individuals to warrant
a common state name? If so, does this relate mainly to cultural
background similarities of the individuals studied or to some
more f u n d a m e n t a l aspect of the nature of the h u m a n mind?
Finally, even more detailed studies can be done on the nature
of particular discrete states and the structures/subsystems com-
prising them. T h i s sort of investigation should come at a late
stage to avoid premature reductionism: we must not repeat psy-
chology's early mistake of trying to find the universal Laws of the
Mind before we have good empirical maps of the territory.
i 4
The Depth Dimension of a

State of Consciousness
<HKHKHJO<HKHWOW<W1KHXW
I indicated earlier that we can define a d-SoC as a clustering of

psychological functioning in a (multidimensional) region of ex-
periential space. Nevertheless, there may be movement or varia-
tion within that particular cluster, a quantitative variation in
aspects of experience and psychological functioning. Although
the overall system pattern maintains its identity, variations occur
within it, and these variations are related to what we call the
depth or intensity of a state of consciousness. For example, we
talk about the ordinary d-SoC as being more or less clear; we
speak of someone as being lightly or deeply hypnotized, slightly
or very drunk, somewhat or very stoned on marijuana.
While any d-SoC can vary in many ways within its cluster,
often one way predominates. We call this principal dimension
the depth dimension. Information about variation along this
dimension tells us a lot about variations along related di-
mensions.
T h e concept of depth is much like the concept of a d-SoC. It
can simply be a convenient way of describing orderly change in
the relationships within a d-SoC, or, developed further, it can be
a theoretical explanation of changes in the underlying subsys-
tems' action in the d-SoC, a hypothesis that enables predictions
about things not yet observed about that d-SoC. For example, the
concept of depth or level of alcohol intoxication may, on a
descriptive level, be simply an observational statement that in-
The t)epth Dimension of a State of Consciousness 192
creasing intensity of intoxication is associated with increasing
numbers of errors in some kind of performance task. O n a theo-
retical level, however, depth of intoxication can be understood as
changes in some f u n d a m e n t a l brain structures, changes that have
widespread effects on a variety of experiences and behaviors.
I n terms of the systems approach, changes in the depth of a d-
SoC result from quantitative changes in the operation of struc-
tures/subsystems within the particular pattern of subsystem
operation that makes u p the d-SoC. I emphasize quantitative
because these are "more or less" changes, not changes of kind.
Earlier investigators have sometimes used the term depth to
include qualitative changes, changes in kinds of experiences. In
the systems approach only minor qualitative changes are in-
cluded as part of depth changes, changes small enough to not
alter the m a j o r pattern of consciousness.
T h i s is a good place to repeat that both d-SoCs and depth are
concepts whose function is to help us understand experience;
they are not ultimate realities. A d-SoC consists of radical, quali-
tative changes in patterning; depth consists of quantitative or
minor qualitative changes within a discrete pattern. Someday we
may reach a stage of knowledge where the exact boundary be-
tween the two concepts become indistinct, b u t we have not yet
arrived there. T h e m a j o r d-SoCs we know much about today differ
from one another the way boats, cars, trains, and planes differ;
depths are more like the miles per h o u r measurements within
each of these modes of transportation.
Relation of Depth to Intensity
Assuming that we have some convenient and valid way to

measure a person's location on the depth dimension for a given d-
SoC, how might different kinds of effects and their intensity
relate to depth? Figures 14-1 through 14-5 illustrate some of the
possible relations between d e p t h and the intensity of various
experiences or observable effects. T h e intensity of each effect is
plotted on the vertical scale; the horizontal scale represents the
depth dimension. T h e effects might be intensities of experiences,
behaviors, or physiological indices.
An effect of type A (Figure 14-1) is present in the ordinary d-
SoC at a low or zero level and as the d-ASC deepens, at some
threshold the effect starts to become more intense. T h e n it
184 Higher States of Consciousness 184
Figure 14-1. T h e type A rise-and-plateau effect.
reaches some m a x i m u m level of intensity and stays there, even

though depth increases. T h i s rise-and-plateau effect is often
found with m a r i j u a n a intoxication. T h e feeling that time is
slowing down, for example, does not become manifest until a
moderately great depth of intoxication is reached; then it starts
to manifest itself, steadily gets stronger (time seems to slow even
m o r e ) , and finally plateaus at a m a x i m u m level, even if the
person feels more intoxicated later [105].
An effect of type B (Figure 14-2) does not become manifest
until a certain threshold depth is reached; then it manifests itself
and increases in intensity with increasing depth, as does type A.
But, after stabilizing at some m a x i m u m value for a while, the
depth
Figure 14-2. T h e type B rise-plateau-and-fall effect.

>
t
05
z
LU
H
Z
depth
Figure 14-3. T h e type C step-rise-and-fall effect.
effect begins to decrease and finally disappears with f u r t h e r in-

creases in depth. T h i s rise-and-plateau-and-fall effect occurs, for
example, d u r i n g m a r i j u a n a intoxication. W h e n a person is
mildly intoxicated, he begins to find reading easier than usual.
T h i s feeling increases for a while, but as medium levels of intoxi-
cation are reached, the feeling of finding it easier to read lessens
and finally disappears, to be replaced with a feeling of finding it
difficult to read [105].
An effect of type C (Figure 14-3) does not become manifest
until a certain depth is reached in the d-SoC. T h e n it manifests
itself completely over a certain range, without variation in its
own intensity and disappears beyond that range. T h i s step-rise-
and-fall effect is the extreme case of the rise-plateau-and-fall
effect. It can easily be missed in studying a d-SoC if the subject
does not remain at that depth for a while. Indeed, some d-SoCs
may consist entirely of type C effects. Most ordinary dreaming,
for example, is seldom considered to have a depth dimension.
T y p e C effects may actually be rare or may simply not have been
noticed. An example of one is given later in this chapter, in con-
nection with the case of William.
An effect of type D (Figure 14-4) begins to manifest itself
mildly at the lowest depth level, as soon as the d-ASC is entered,
and increases steadily in intensity all through the d e p t h dimen-
sion. T h i s linear increase effect is commonly (but probably erro-
neously) assumed to be typical of most d-ASCs. Examples of type
D effects from m a r i j u a n a intoxication are the feeling that
Figure 14-4. T h e type D linear increase effect.
sensations become more vivid and take on new qualities, the

feeling of becoming more tolerant of contradictions, the difficulty
in playing ordinary social games. All these begin to become
manifest as soon as the subject starts to feel stoned and increase
in intensity the more stoned he gets [105],
Various curvilinear variations of this effect can occur.
An effect of type E (Figure 14-5) is manifested strongly in the
ordinary d-SoC and is not changed u p to a certain depth in the d-
ASC. But then it begins to decrease in intensity with increasing
depth or, as shown in this example, returns more or less intensely
at a greater depth, perhaps in a step-rise-and-plateau effect. An
Figure 14-5. T h e type E effect, illustrating complex relationships to

depth, here a plateau-decrease-plateau-step/increase.
example is the feeling that one can describe one's experiences
while in a d-ASC: description is easy at first, gradually becomes
less adequate, finally is quite inadequate b u t at greater depth be-
comes adequate again. As an example, Erickson [25] describes a
stuporous state occurring in some of his very deeply hypnotized
subjects, but as hypnosis becomes even deeper they are able to
function again.
T h e r e are, of course, many more complex ways that various
experiences in d-ASCs can relate to depth, b u t the above are
sufficient to illustrate the more common types.
T h e depth-intensity relationships depicted in Figures 14-1
through 14—5 are based o n some assumed a priori measure of
depth. T h e concept of depth, however, can be utilized without
assuming an a priori measure. T o d o this, we begin empirically
from scratch by arbitrarily defining any one varying effect we can
conveniently measure as the d e p t h dimension. W e then let it
vary throughout its range in the d-SoC, measure every other
effect over this range of variation, and plot them against o u r
arbitrarily defined depth dimension. For m a r i j u a n a intoxication,
for example, we might take a subject's ratings of how unusually
intense his sensory experience is, and for a given rating of this,
measure a n d / o r have him rate a variety of other effects. T h e n we
change the intensity to which his sensory experience is altered
(by drugs or by psychological means), remeasure the other
effects, etc. T h e m a p or graphical plot obtained of how the
different effects relate to each other is the d e p t h dimension. W e
need n o longer define one particular effect as "depth." W e have
arrived at a good descriptive concept of depth by empirical
m a p p i n g without having had to know what it was before we
could start.
I n doing this, we are lucky if we h a p p e n to start with an effect
of type D as the initial index of depth. Since we are used to
thinking in linear ways, plotting everything against an effect that
changes linearly will produce a m a p we can understand fairly
easily.
Depth obtained in the above way is a purely descriptive con-
cept. It helps us summarize and relate o u r observations, but it
will probably not allow us to predict things we have not yet
observed. If, however, we view the effects and their changes as
manifestations or alterations in the subsystems and structures
that make u p the d-SoC, depth becomes a scientific hypothesis.
We should then be able to predict things other than those we
have measured and test these predictions. 1
Self-Reports of Depth
T h e feeling of varying depth is one often described as di-

rectly experienced in a d-ASC. A person often has an immediate
feel for how intense the d-ASC is. H e may remark, for example,
that the m a r i j u a n a he smoked must have been awfully potent
because he feels intensely stoned or that his meditative state is
more p r o f o u n d than usual.
Even if a person does not spontaneously comment about the
depth of his d-ASC, if asked he often gives an extremely useful
estimate—"extremely useful" in the sense that the estimate can
be an excellent predictor of other aspects of the experience or of
his behavior.
T h e fact that people d o estimate the depths of their d-ASCs
prompted me to do extensive investigations of self-report scales of
depth, and I have found such scales very useful for measur-
ing the intensity of the hypnotic state [114] and of m a r i j u a n a
intoxication [105, 139]. Charles H o n o r t o n has found that simi-
lar state reports relate well to the degree of alpha rhythm and
muscle tension subjects show in learning to control their brain
waves [28], and to the a m o u n t of extrasensory perception they
show [27, 29]. T h i s material is somewhat technical for the gen-
eral reader and I shall not detail it here; I refer my colleagues to
the above sources, for this research has convinced me that self-
reporting of the depth of a d-ASC is probably the best measure of
depth currently available, certainly better than such parameters
as drug dose.
A detailed example of self-report scaling of the depth of hyp-
nosis is presented below. It illustrates the idea of depth and the
way a common language is established between experiencer and
investigator and provides some information about deep hypnosis
and its possible transition into another d-ASC entirely. 2
1 The researcher planning work with self-report depth scales should note
some other precautions outlined in my chapter in Fromm and Shor's book
[114.]
2 Much of the following account is drawn from my chapter in Fromm and
Shor [114].
The Depth Dimension of a State of Consciousness 189
T H E EXTENDED NORTH CAROLINA SCALE
T h e Extended North Carolina Scale has been used in a large

number of experiments in my laboratory, primarily where ex-
perienced hypnotic subjects are used repeatedly in various ex-
periments. It is similar to the North Carolina Scale [61, 63, 80]
with the addition that subjects are told that there is really no
"top" to the scale, that it is possible for them to go considerably
deeper into hypnosis than the defined points. T h e exact instruc-
tions for the scale are:
We are interested in the ways in which the intensity or depth

of your hypnotic state may vary from time to time. It has been
our experience that we can get quite accurate reports of hyp-
notic depth or intensity by teaching you a way of scaling it and
getting your first impressions whenever we ask you about your
hypnotic state.
Basically, whenever I ask, "State?" a number will flash into
your mind, and I want you to call it out to me right away.
This number will represent the depth of your hypnotic state
at the time. This number will flash into yotir mind and you'll
call it out automatically, without any effort on your part. You
won't have to think about what this number should be, or try
to reason it out; you'll just call out the first number that comes
to mind whenever I ask, "State?" If, of course, you then think
the number is very inaccurate for some reason, I'd like you to
tell me so, but people rarely feel the number is not accurate,
even though they are sometimes surprised by it.
Getting these depth numbers is very important, because
every person is unique in his reactions while hypnotized. Some
people react at different speeds than others; some react to a
particular hypnotic experience by going deeper into hypnosis,
others sometimes find the depth of their hypnotic state de-
creased by the same experience. Thus by getting these state
reports from you every so often I can tell whether to go a
little faster or slower, where to put emphasis in the suggestions
I use to guide you, etc. These depth reports are not always
what I expect, but it's more important for me to know where
you really are than just assume you're there because I've been
talking that wayl
Now here is the numerical scale you are to use. I'll give you
various highlights that identify different degrees of hypnosis
o n the scale, but you can report any point on the scale when
asked for your state.
Zero is your normal, waking state.
From 1 to 12 is a state in which you feel relaxed and de-
tached, more so as the numbers increase toward 12; in this
range you can experience such hypnotic phenomena as your
arm rising up or feeling heavy or moved by a force.
W h e n you reach a depth of 20 or greater you feel very
definitely hypnotized, and you can experience great changes
in your feeling of your body, such as your hand getting numb
if I suggest it.
By the time you reach a depth of 25 or greater you can have
strong inner experiences such as dreams or dreamlike experi-
ences.
At a depth of 30 or greater you can temporarily forget every-
thing that happened in the hypnosis if I suggest it. Many other
experiences are possible at this depth and greater, such as
regressing into the past and reliving some experience, experi-
encing tastes and smells I might suggest, or not experiencing
real stimuli if I tell you not to sense them. There are hardly
any hypnotic phenomena you can't experience at least fairly
well, and most extremely well, at this depth. At 30 and beyond
your mind is very quiet and still when I'm not directing your
attention to something, and you probably don't hear anything
except my voice or other sounds I might direct your atten-
tion to.
You have reached at least 30 in earlier sessions, and it is a
sufficient depth to be able to learn all the skills needed in this
experiment, but it is very likely that you will go deeper than
30 in these studies.
By the time you have reached a depth of 40 or greater you
have reached a very deep hypnotic state in which your mind is
perfectly still and at peace if I'm not directing your attention
to something. Whatever I do suggest to you at this depth and
beyond is perfectly real, a total, real, all-absorbing experience
at the time, as real as anything in life. You can experience
anything I suggest at 40 and beyond.
I'm not going to define the depths beyond this, for little is
known about them; if you go deeper than 40, and I hope you
do, I'll ask you about the experiences that go with these greater
depths so we may learn more about deep hypnosis. 8
3 In some of my earlier work with the North Carolina Scale, fO was defined
as a state so profound that the subject's mind became sluggish, but this
definition was dropped here.
R e m e m b e r now that increasing numbers u p from zero in-
dicate an increasing degree of hypnotic depth, from the starting
point of ordinary wakefulness u p to a state in which you can
experience anything i n hypnosis w i t h complete realism. Your
quick answers whenever I ask, "State?" will be my guide to the
d e p t h of your h y p n o t i c state, and h e l p m e guide you more
effectively. Always call o u t the first n u m b e r that pops i n t o your
m i n d loudly and clearly. W h e n e v e r I ask, "State?" a n u m b e r
o n the scale will instantly come into m i n d and you call it out.
These instructions for the scale are usually read to the subject
after he is hypnotized, and he is asked whether he comprehends
them. Also, the instructions are briefly reread to the subject every
half-dozen hypnotic sessions or so to refresh his memory of them.
T h e overall attitude in working with subjects in my laboratory
o n a prolonged basis is to treat them as explorers or colleagues
working with the investigators, rather than as subjects who are
being manipulated for purposes alien to them.
WILLIAM: D E E P HYPNOSIS AND BEYOND
William, a twenty-year-old male college student, is extremely

intelligent, academically successful, and well adjusted. His only
previous experience with hypnosis was some brief work with a
psychiatrist cousin to teach him how to relax. I n a screening
session with the H a r v a r d G r o u p Scale of Hypnotic Susceptibility,
he scored 11 out of a possible 12. O n a questionnaire he reported
that he almost always recalled dreaming, that such dreaming was
vivid and elaborate, and that he had kept a dream diary at times
in the past. William reported that he had sleeptalked rather
frequently as a child b u t did so only occasionally now. H e had
never sleepwalked. O n individual testing with the Stanford Hyp-
notic Susceptibility Scale [145], he scored 12 out of a possible 12.
H e then had two training sessions, described elsewhere [136],
designed to explore and maximize his hypnotic responsiveness in
various areas. I n the first of these special training sessions, he was
taught the Extended N o r t h Carolina Scale. H e then took Forms I
and II of the Stanford Profile Scale of Hypnotic Susceptibility
[146] and scored 26 and 27 o n Forms I and II, respectively, out
of a possible m a x i m u m of 27 on each.
Over the course of the next eight months, William participated
in a variety of experiments in my laboratory, which served to
f u r t h e r increase his hypnotic experience and make him well
adapted to functioning in the laboratory setting; he had ten
sessions of training for operant control of the EEG alpha rhythm
[94], four experimental sessions in various aspects of hypnosis,
and eight evening sessions in which he was hypnotized and given
posthypnotic suggestions to carry out in his subsequent sleep in
the laboratory, such as dreaming about a suggested topic [136],
incorporating auditory stimuli into his dreams, and talking dur-
ing his sleep. T h u s , by the time William participated in the deep
hypnosis experiment described here, he was familiar with the lab
and had been hypnotized there 18 times. T h e deepest depth
report given in any of these sessions was 60, and he usually gave
reports between 40 and 50.
In the experimental session reported below, I explained to
William that the purpose of the session was to find out what
hypnosis meant to him personally. Specifically, he was informally
interviewed for about an h o u r to determine what he usually
experienced u n d e r hypnosis, other than his reactions to specifi-
cally suggested phenomena, and, if possible, what depth level,
according to the Extended North Carolina Scale, he was at when
he experienced these particular things. I then hypnotized him
and at each 10-point interval on a depth continuum I asked
William to remain at that depth and describe whatever it was he
was experiencing. N o particular probing was done except for
phenomena already mentioned by William; the emphasis was on
his individual hypnotic experience. William also agreed to at-
tempt to go much deeper than he ever had gone before.
T h e session was quite rewarding. Although William had never
gone beyond 60 before, he went to 90, reporting at 10-point
intervals on the Extended N o r t h Carolina Scale, and also briefly
went from 90 to 130. These values beyond 40 had not, of course,
been defined by me: they were the result of his own definition.
Or, according to William's report, they were simply numbers that
came to his m i n d when he was asked for his state. Despite re-
peated questioning by me and despite the fact that the subject
was quite verbal and extremely good at describing his experi-
ences, his only comment on how he measured his hypnotic depth
was that when I asked him for a state report a n u m b e r popped
into his mind, he said it, and that was it. H e had n o idea how
these numbers were generated, n o r did he "understand" them,
but he assumed they meant something since he had been told in
DEEP I
L L O w l / W A R E N E S S OF B R E A T H I N G K -
HIGH
ZERO ( S P O N T A N E O U S M E N T A L A C T I V I T Y «o
—o
LOW
0 0 1 0 F
1 B E I N G IN T I M E
"TIME** A M E A N I N G L E S S CONCEPT
BEVONO THIS L E V E L .
IN|
F A S T I R A T E OF T I M E P A S S A G E
NORMALU.
cinwJ
. _ FOCUSEO
FOC ON £
Lk. 01 ST A N T
^REMOTE THING
I EXPERIMENTER'S IDENTITY , " J U S T AN A M U S I N G . T I N Y R I P P L E
JUST A VOICE ' A T F A R F R I N G E S OF AN I N F I N I T E
ZERO* S E A OF CONSCIOUSNESS"
HIGH I S E N S E OF P O T E N T I A L I T Y
H|
G H ^ A W A R E N E S S OF T H E J O K E
LOW
CENTEREO
EGO IN HE AO
S E N S E OF I D E N T I T Y
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•. nA W
n nA nR E
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t iNnV I R O N M E N T
HIGH
LOW I
HIGH I P E A C E F U L N E S S ' " P E A C E F U L " NOT A M E A N I N G F U L CONCEPT

BEYONOHERE
LOW 1
HIGH I V I S U A L B L A C K N E S S
B L A C K B U T F l L L E O {NOT A W A R E OF UNLESS A S K E O T O L O O K )
LOW J
j
aI PP H
H YY SS II CC AA LL R
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UN
BOOY JUST A T H I N G L E F T BEHlNO
k - , J I 1 L
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10 '
30 1
30 1
40 . 1SO 60 70 80 90 100 110 130 130
SELF-REPORTED HYPNOTIC DEPTH
Figure 14-6. Self-report of hypnotic experience.

the original Extended North Carolina Scale instructions that
they would.
T h e results of both his preinduction interview about his gen-
eral experience of hypnosis and the particular hypnotic session
have been condensed i n t o the graph shown in Figure 14-6 (Re-
printed from C. T a r t , J. Transpersonal Psychol., 1970, 2, 27-40,
by permission of the American Transpersonal Association).
William felt that his particular experience d u r i n g this explora-
tion was typical of his general experience with hypnosis. Various
phenomena are plotted, each with its own ordinate of intensity.
Circles indicate reports obtained d u r i n g this particular hypnotic
session, triangles are reports obtained d u r i n g the interview pre-
ceding this session about all his hypnotic experiences to date. N o t
every phenomenon was assessed on every 10-point interval o n the
depth scale, so curves are shown as dotted where data points are
missing. T h e following discussion indicates some of the phenom-
ena of extremely deep hypnotic states and illustrates some of the
theoretically possible relationships of effects to hypnotic depth
discussed earlier.
T h e first effect, "physical relaxation," is not plotted beyond 20.
According to William his relaxation increases markedly as he is
hypnotized and quickly reaches a value of extremely relaxed.
However, he reports that after a depth of 50 it does not make
sense to ask him about physical relaxation because he is n o
longer identified with his body; his body is "just a thing, some-
thing I've left behind." One does not rate the relaxation of
things.
T h e second experiential effect is of a "blackness" of the visual
field. His visual field becomes quite black and formless as he goes
into hypnosis. Nevertheless, it continues to become somehow
blacker 4 in a roughly linear increase u p to about 60. At this
point he says the field continues to become blacker as he goes
deeper, but it is in some sense "filled," there is a sense that there
is some kind of form (s) filling his visual field even though he is
not perceiving any particular forms. Beyond 60 he is not particu-
larly aware of any visual sensation unless his attention is drawn
to it by the experimenter.
* William insists that this progression is not going from gray to darker gray
to black because his visual field is black to begin with, even though it gets
"blacker." Ke recognizes the paradox of this statement, but considers it the
best description he can give.
T h e third effect, a feeling of "peacefulness," also increases
linearly from the beginning of the hypnotic state through ap-
proximately 60. William reports that he is extremely peaceful at
this point. Beyond 60, he says, that peacefulness is not a mean-
ingful concept, as was the case with physical relaxation. As de-
scribed later in connection with the plots of William's identity,
there is no longer a self to be peaceful or not peaceful beyond
this point.
T h e fourth plotted effect is William's degree of "awareness of
his environment," primarily the small sounds in the experi-
mental room and die temperature and air currents in it. His
awareness of the environment falls off rapidly and roughly
linearly, and at about 50 reaches a point where h e reports that he
is not at all aware of the environment (with the exception of the
hypnotist's voice). His awareness of the environment then stays
at zero throughout the rest of die plotted continuum.
T h e fifth effect, labeled "sense of identity," is a little more
complex. I n the light stages of hypnosis William is fully aware of
his ordinary identity and body image, b u t as h e reaches a depth
of about 30 he reports that his identity is "more centered in his
head," is dominated by feelings of his head and his mind. T h i s
feeling continues to increase, plotted as a decrease of his ordinary
identity, and then his ordinary identity continues to decrease
until a r o u n d 80 or 90 he feels that his ordinary identity is
completely in abeyance: "William" n o longer exists. O n the
other hand, starting from about 50 he begins to sense another
identity, and this continually increased u p through about 80, the
last point plotted for this phenomenon. T h i s identity is one of
potential—he doesn't feel identified as any specific person or
thing but only as the steadily increasing potential to be anything
or anyone.
T h e sixth phenomenon, labeled "awareness of the joke," is
even more difficult to explain. T h i s p h e n o m e n o n manifests at
about 50, reaches a m a x i m u m at about 70, then fades in intensity
and is completely gone at 90. T h e "joke" is that William should
engage in strange activities like deep hypnosis, meditation, or
taking drugs in order to alter his d-SoC; some "higher" aspect of
his self is amused by all this activity, and William himself be-
comes aware of this amusement. Most people who have had
several psychedelic d r u g sessions will recognize this as an effect
that often occurs as the d r u g is beginning to take hold.
T h e next effect, labeled "sense of potentiality," starts off at a
zero level b u t at around 50 first manifests itself as an awareness
of some sort of chant or h u m m i n g sound identified with the
feeling that more and more experience is potentially available. 5
T h e specific form of the chant is lost b u t this sense of potentiality
increases linearly from this point, until around 80 William feels
that an infinite range of experience is potentially available, so
this phenomenon levels off.
T h e eighth effect, "experimenter's identity," at first increases
as the subject goes down to about 30 in hypnosis; that is, he
becomes more and more aware of the experimenter. T h e experi-
menter then seems to become more and more distant and remote,
and finally the experimenter possesses no identity, he is just a
voice, and at the very deep levels he is "just an amusing, tiny
ripple at the far fringes of an infinite sea of consciousness."
T h e r e is a slight discrepancy at 50 between William's actual
experience and his estimate of what he generally experienced.
T h e n i n t h effect, "rate of time passage," indicates that William
feels time passing more and more slowly in a linear fashion as he
goes down to about 40. T h i s effect is no longer plotted, for as the
next effect, "being in time," shows, William feels that time
suddenly ceases to be a meaningful concept for him: at 50 he is
no longer in time, his experiences are somehow timeless, they do
not have a duration or a place, an order in the scheme of
things. 6
T h e next effect, labeled "feeling of oneness," increases linearly
throughout the depth range plotted. H e r e William reports feel-
ing more and more at one with the universe, although he does
not ordinarily feel this. T h e effect is plotted as being very low in
his ordinary waking state.
T h e next effect is "spontaneous mental activity," how much
conscious mental activity goes o n that is not related to specific
suggestions by the hypnotist to do something or to experience
something. I n the ordinary waking state this is quite high: recall
the H i n d u metaphor that describes the ordinary m i n d as being
like a sexually aroused and d r u n k e n monkey, constantly h o p p i n g
8 The chant William reported may be related to the Hindu concept of the
sacred syllable Om, supposedly a basic sound of the universe that a man can
"hear" as mind becomes more universally attuned [13].
6 Priestley [53] discusses such experiences of being in and out of time quite
extensively.
about and chattering. T h i s spontaneous mental activity goes
steadily down until it reaches an essentially zero level at about 90
and stays there through the rest of the depth range plotted. I
have discussed such a decrease in spontaneous mental activity for
hypnosis elsewhere [78].
T h e final effect plotted is William's "awareness of his own
breathing." H e feels that his breathing tends to become steadily
deeper as he becomes more deeply hypnotized, b u t at 50 there is
a sudden change in his perceived breathing: it becomes ex-
tremely shallow, almost imperceptible, and stays that way
through the rest of the hypnotic state. It is not known whether
an objective measure of respiration would show any changes at
this point; William did not actually stop breathing.
Considering the above phenomena as a report of a well-trained
observer, we can make a n u m b e r of comments. First it should be
clear that William has an exceptional ability for hypnosis; he
appears to have gone far deeper than the usual range of phenom-
ena conventionally labeled "deep hypnosis." As the Extended
North Carolina Scale was defined for him, 30 was the level
ordinarily defined as deep hypnosis (amnesia, positive and nega-
tive hallucinations as defining p h e n o m e n a ) , and 40 would be the
approximate limit reported by many of the highly hypnotizable
subjects I have worked with in the laboratory. Yet William
reported a m a x i m u m depth of 130 which, if one assumes reason-
able validity and linearity for the scale, may be one of the
deepest hypnotic states on record. T h i s ability to go so deep may
partially stem from his previous experience with meditation and
psychedelic drugs. Further, William is exceptionally verbal and
able to describe his experiences well. I n the past, Erickson's [33,
pp. 70-112] exceptionally good subjects have reached a "stupor-
ous" state, which may have reflected an inability to conceptualize
and verbalize their experiences. T h u s William's hypnotic experi-
ences are illustrative of a potential range of hypnotic phenom-
ena, b u t are not typical.
Second, the expected nonlinearity and noncontinuity of pos-
sible effects (and subsystem operation, insofar as effects may be
taken as indicators of subsystem operation) are apparent in
William's data. I n the ordinary range of light to deep hypnosis
(roughly 0 - 4 0 ) , most effects are linear, b u t "experimenter's iden-
tity" is curvilinear, and "physical relaxation" is noncontinuous,
and becomes a meaningless variable halfway through this range.
Considering the entire depth range plotted, some effects show step
functions ("awareness of breathing," "being in time"), rapid
increases and decreases from zero ("awareness of the j o k e " ) ,
plateauing after an initial linear increase or decrease ("experi-
menter's identity," "sense of potentiality," "awareness of the
environment," "visual blackness"), or disappearance by becom-
ing meaningless ("peacefulness," "physical relaxation"). If, in
the course of investigation, one used the intensity of one phe-
nomenon as an index of hypnotic depth, confusing results would
be obtained if it were not linear and continuous. T h e value of a
multiphenomenal approach is apparent.
T h i r d , the large n u m b e r of step changes or fairly rapid
changes in the 50-70 range raises the question, in view of the
definition of d-SoCs, of whether we are still dealing with "deep
hypnosis" beyond the depth of approximately 70. These rapid
changes may represent a transition from the gestalt configuration
we call hypnosis to a new configuration, a new d-SoC.
T h i s research with William is a prototype of the research
strategy recommended in Chapter 13 for working with d-SoCs—
detailed m a p p i n g of a single individual's experiential space to
see if certain clusterings emerge that constitute d-SoCs. T h i s
particular example is an imperfect prototype, however, because
the systems approach was not clear in my mind when I did this
research with William. I was expecting continuity of experience
in one state, the hypnotic state, so I did not sample enough data
points to determine whether there was a clear discontinuity
showing William transiting from one d-SoC to another. T h u s the
changes plotted in Figure 14-6 are a rough sort of plot, consistent
with the systems approach, b u t not done precisely enough.
Note also that there is little m a p p i n g of the very light region
of hypnosis and consequently no data on the transition from the
ordinary d-SoC to hypnosis.
At its m a x i m u m level (assuming that the 70-130 range repre-
sents depth c o n t i n u u m for the new d-SoC), the state has the
following phenomenological characteristics: (1) n o awareness of
the physical body; (2) n o awareness of any discrete "thing" or
sensation, b u t only awareness of a flux of potentiality; (3) no
awareness of the real world environment, with the one exception
of the (depersonalized) voice of the experimenter as "an amus-
ing tiny ripple at the far fringes of an infinite sea of conscious-
ness"; (4) a sense of being beyond, outside of time; and (5) a
sense of the identity "William" being totally in abeyance, and

identity being simply potentiality.
States of this type have not been dealt with in Western scien-
tific literature to any great extent, but sound similar to Eastern
descriptions of consciousness of the Void, a d-SoC in which time,
space, and ego are supposedly transcended, leaving pure aware-
ness of the primal nothingness from which all manifested
creation comes [22, 51]. Writers who have described the Void
insist that the experience cannot be described in words, so the
above description and comparison with William's experience is
rough, to say the least. T h u s William's data are not only of
interest in terms of hypnotic depth and the transition from one d-
SoC to another, b u t raise the possibility of using hypnotic states
to induce a n d / o r model mystical states. 7
T h e resemblance between William's description of his state
and classic descriptions of Void consciousness suggests the ques-
tion, W h o is reporting to me, the experimenter? If William's per-
sonality is in abeyance, if he has no awareness of his physical
body, who is talking?
T h e concept of dissociation may supply an answer. Some struc-
tures/subsystems may form a (semi-) independent entity from the
rest of the system, so that more than one d-SoC can exist simul-
taneously in one individual. T h u s , some aspects of William are
structured into a d-SoC I loosely call Void consciousness; other
aspects are s t r u c t u r e d / p a t t e r n e d into a kind of consciousness that
can (at least partially) observe what the Void consciousness part
is doing, can understand my questions, and can reply to me. Is
this the Observer discussed in Chapter 11, or a dissociated series
of subsystems forming a d-SoC, or what? Grappling with this sort
of question forces confrontation with some basic issues about the
nature of consciousness.
William's data illustrate some of the practical aspects of study-
ing the depth of a d-SoC, particularly hypnosis. Using the indi-
vidual subject as a unit, a set of interrelationships of various
phenomena with respect to hypnotic depth has been found; self-
reported depth has ordered observed phenomena in a useful and
theoretically i m p o r t a n t manner. Further research will study this
same sort of procedure in other subjects, repeat sessions with some
1 Aaronson [I] has reported direct hypnotic induction of the Void experi-
ence through specific suggestion.
subjects to study consistency, and make initial intersubject com-
parisons to determine which depth-phenomenology relationships
are general and which represent idiosyncratic qualities of subjects.
General relationships of phenomena with depth may be f o u n d
a n d / o r several classes of subjects may be found a n d / o r several d-
SoCs may be identified that have in the past all been indiscrimi-
nately termed "hypnosis."
Finally, it should be stressed that the case of William is pre-
sented to illustrate the potential of self-reporting of hypnotic
depth. T h e effects of subtle factors in my laboratory, demand
characteristics, and William's uniqueness must be assessed in the
course of replication and extension of this work by others to
establish how much of this potential holds u p and becomes practi-
cally and theoretically useful.
l
5
State-Specific Communication
«HKWKHKHKHKHXH><HKH^^
"According to the general opinion of the uninitiated,"

mused Nasrudin, as he walked along the road, "dervishes are
mad. According to the sages, however, they are the true masters
of the world. I would like to test one, and myself, to make
sure."
T h e n he saw a tall figure, robed like an Akldan d e r v i s h -
reputed to be exceptionally enlightened men—coming towards
him.
"Friend," said the Mulla, "I want to perform an exper-
iment, to test your powers of psychic penetration, and also my
sanity."
"Proceed," said the Akldan.
Nasrudin made a sudden sweeping motion with his arm,
then clenched his fist. "What have I in my hand?"
"A horse, chariot, and driver," said the Akldan immediately.
"That's no real test," —Nasrudin was petulant—"because you
saw me pick them up." [57, p. 79]
In d-ASCs people often claim to have exceptional and impor-

tant insights about themselves or about the nature of the world
that they are unable to communicate to the rest of us owing to
the ineffability of the experience, the inadequacy of language, or
the "lowness" of the ordinary d-SoC that makes us incapable of
understanding "higher" things. T h e general scientific opinion,
however, is that communicative ability deteriorates in various d-
ASCs, such as drug-induced or mystical states. T h i s opinion is
usually based on the observation that the experimenter/observer
has difficulty understanding what the person in the d-ASC is
talking about; his comments make n o sense by ordinary con-
sensus reality standards.
I suspect that sometimes this j u d g m e n t is based on fear, on the
semiconscious recognition that what a person in a d-ASC is
saying may be all too true, b u t somehow unacceptable. I recall
the time when a friend of mine was having a psychotic break-
down: it struck me that half the things he said were clearly crazy,
in the sense of being unrelated to the social situation around him
and reflecting only his own internal processes, b u t the other half
of the things he said were such penetrating, often unflattering,
observations about what other people were really feeling and
doing that they were threatening to most of us. Bennett [5]
makes the same observation, noting that after his wife had a
cerebral hemorrhage she seemed to lose all the usual social inhi-
bitions and said directly what she felt. T h i s was extremely
threatening to most people and was regarded as senile dementia
or insanity; yet to a few who were not personally threatened by
her observations, her comments were extremely penetrating. If
you label someone as crazy, you need not listen to him.
H o w can we decide in an objective fashion whether someone
in a d-ASC is able to communicate more or less clearly? Perhaps
this is the wrong question. I propose that, for at least some d-
ASCs, there are significant alterations in the m a n n e r in which a
person communicates. Changes in various subsystems, especially
the Evaluation and Decision-Making subsystem, produce a new
logic, so that the grammar of communication, including the
nonverbal aspects of expression, constitutes a different kind of
language, one that may be just as effective in communicating
with someone else in the same d-ASC as ordinary communication
is in the ordinary d-SoC. W e must consider this possibility in an
objective manner, b u t be careful not implicitly to equate "objec-
tivity" with the standards of only one d-SoC.
For a given d-ASC, then, how can we determine whether there
is deterioration, improvement, or simply alteration in communi-
cation ability, or a complex combination of all three? More
specifically, we must ask this question with respect to communi-
cation across d-SoCs—about communication between two persons
in different d-SoCs as well as about communication between two
State-Specific Communication 20)
persons in the same d-SoC. In regard to the last two situations,

only theorizing is possible, for all published research deals only
with the restricted situation of an experimental subject in a d-
ASC and the experimenter/observer in his ordinary d-SoC.
If the grammar of communication is altered in a d-ASC, then
clearly a judge in an ordinary d-SoC cannot distinguish between
the hypotheses of deterioration and of alteration in the com-
municative style of a person in a d-ASC. T h e specialized argot of a
subcultural group may sound, to an outside observer, like the talk
of schizophrenics. A person familiar with that subculture, on the
other hand, finds the communications exchanged among the
group perfectly meaningful, perhaps extraordinarily rich. In this
example, contextual clues may make the outsider suspect this is a
subcultural argot, b u t if the group is in an institutional setting
and is labeled "schizophrenic," he may readily conclude that its
speech has indeed deteriorated, without bothering to study the
matter further.
T o judge adequately whether communicative patterns have
altered (and possibly improved) rather than deteriorated, the
judge must function in the same d-ASC as the communicator.
Experienced m a r i j u a n a smokers, for example, claim they can
subtly communicate all sorts of things—especially humor—to
each other while intoxicated [105]. T h e degree to which an
observer in a different d-SoC—for example, his ordinary d-SoC—
can understand the same communication is interesting, b u t not a
valid measure of the adequacy of the communication within the
d-ASC. And, as explained in earlier chapters, identification of a
person as being in a particular d-ASC must be based not just on
the fact that he has undergone an induction procedure (for
example, taken a drug) b u t on actual m a p p i n g of his location in
experiential space.
Suppose the judge is in the same d-ASC as the subjects in the

study, and reports that their communication is rich and mean-
ingful, not at all deteriorated. How d o we know that the judge's
mental processes themselves are not deteriorated and that he is
not just enjoying the illusion of understanding, rather than
prosaically judging the subjects' communication? T h e question
leads to general problems of measuring the accuracy and ade-
quacy of communication, an area I know little about. All the
work in this area has been done with respect to ordinary d-SoC
communication, b u t I believe the techniques can be applied to
this question of adequacy of communication in d-ASCs. I shall
try to show this by describing one technique for rating ordinary
d-SoC communication with which I am familiar that could be
readily applied to judging d-ASC communication.
It is the Cloze technique [140]. It measures, simultaneously,
how well a written or verbal communication is both phrased
(encoded) and how well it is understood by a receiver or judge.
From a written message or a transcript of a spoken message, every
fifth word is deleted. Judges then guess what the deleted words
are, and the total n u m b e r of words correct is a measure of the
accuracy and meaningfulness of the communication. If a judge
understands the communicator well, he can fill in a high propor-
tion of the words correctly; if he does not understand him well he
gets very few correct. T h i s technique works because ordinary
language is fairly r e d u n d a n t , so the overall context of the mes-
sage allows excellent guesses about missing words. T h i s tech-
nique can be applied to communications between subjects as
judged both by a judge in the same d-ASC, thus testing adequacy
of communication within the d-ASC, and by a judge in a differ-
ent d-SoC, thus measuring transfer across states. W e think of the
different d-SoC as being the ordinary state, b u t other d-SoCs are
possible, and we can eventually use this technique for a cross-
comparison across all d-SoCs we know of and produce important
information about both communication and the nature of vari-
ous d-SoCs.
T w o problems arise in applying the Cloze technique to investi-
gating communications in d-ASCs. O n e is that a particular d-ASC
may be associated with a switch to more nonverbal components
of communication. T h i s difficulty could probably be remedied by
making videotapes of the procedure, and systematically deleting
every fifth second, and letting the judges fill in the gap. T h e
second problem is that communication in a d-ASC may be as
adequate, but less redundant, a circumstance that would artifi-
cially lower the scores on the Cloze test without adequately
testing the communication. I leave this problem as a challenge to
others.
Another important methodological factor is the degree of
adaptation to functioning in a particular d-ASC. I am sure
techniques of the Cloze type would show deterioration in com-
munication within d-ASCs for subjects who are relatively naive
State-Specific Communication 205
in functioning in those d-ASCs. Subjects have to adapt to the
novelty of a d-ASC; they may even need specific practice in
learning to communicate within it. T h e potential for an altered
style of communication, state-specific communication, may be
present and need to be developed, rather than being available
immediately u p o n entering the d-ASC. I d o not imply simply
that people learn to compensate for the deterioration associated
with a d-ASC, b u t rather that they learn the altered style of
communication inherent in or more natural to that particular d-
ASC.
I n Chapter 16, in which I propose the creation of state-specific
sciences, I assume that communication within some d-ASCs is
adequate: this is a necessary foundation for the creation of state-
specific sciences. I n making this assumption, I depend primarily
on experiential observations by people in d-ASCs. Objective
verification with the Cloze technique or similar techniques is a
necessary u n d e r p i n n i n g for this. As state-specific sciences are de-
veloped, on the other hand, techniques for evaluating the ade-
quacy of communication may be developed within particular
states that can be agreed u p o n as "scientific" techniques within
that state, even though they d o not necessarily make sense in the
ordinary d-SoC.
Another interesting question concerns transfer of communica-
tive ability after the termination of a d-ASC to the ordinary (or
any other) d-SoC. Experienced m a r i j u a n a smokers, for example,
claim that they can understand a subject intoxicated on mari-
j u a n a even when they are not intoxicated themselves because of
partial transfer of state-specific knowledge to the ordinary d-SoC.
W e need to study the validity of this phenomenon.
In earlier chapters I avoid talking about "higher" states of
consciousness, as the first j o b of science is description, not evalua-
tion. Here, however, I want to speculate on what one relatively
objective definition of the adjective higher, applied to a d-SoC,
could mean with respect to communication. If we consider that
understanding many communications from other people is more
valuable than understanding few of their communications, then
a higher d-SoC is one in which communications from a variety of
d-ASCs are adequately understood; a lower d-SoC is one in which
understanding is limited, perhaps to the particular lower d-SoC
itself.
i6.
State-Specific Sciences
O0<H>0<HXHWKHKHKHKHWJ^^
In previous chapters I argue that the ordinary (or any) d-SoC is

a semiarbitrary construction, a specialized tool, useful for some
things but not for others. A consequence of this is that science is
specialized, because it is a one-d-SoC science. As a method of
learning science has been applied only in a limited way because
it has been used in only one of many possible d-SoCs. This
chapter works out the consequences of this idea in detail and
proposes that if we are to understand d-ASCs adequately, as well
as ourselves as human beings, we must develop state-specific
sciences.1
Disaffection with Science

Blackburn [7] recently noted that many of our most talented
young people are "turned o f f ' from science: as a solution, he
proposed that we recognize the validity of a more sensuous-
intuitive approach to nature, treating it as complementary to the
classical intellectual approach.
I have seen the same rejection of science by many of the
brightest students in California, and the problem is indeed seri-
I I originally presented the proposal for state-specific sciences in an article
in Science [119.] Most of it is reprinted here with the permission of the Ameri-
can Association for the Advancement of Science. I have updated the text and
terminology to fit the rest of this book.
State-Specific Sciences 207
ous. Blackburn's analysis is valid, b u t not deep enough. A more
f u n d a m e n t a l source of alienation is the widespread experience of
d-ASCs by the young, coupled with the almost total rejection by
the scientific establishment of the knowledge gained d u r i n g the
experiencing of d-ASCs. Blackburn himself exemplifies this rejec-
tion when he says: "Perhaps science has much to learn along this
line from the disciplines, as distinct from the content, of Oriental
religions" (my italics).
T o illustrate, a 1971 G a l l u p poll [41] indicated that approxi-
mately half of American college students have tried m a r i j u a n a
and that a large n u m b e r of them use it fairly regularly. T h e y d o
this at the risk of having their careers ruined and going to jail for
several years. Why? Conventional research on the n a t u r e of mari-
j u a n a intoxication tells us that the primary effects are a slight
increase in heart rate, reddening of the eyes, some difficulty with
memory, and small decrements in performance on complex psy-
chomotor tests.
Would you risk going to jail to experience these?
A young m a r i j u a n a smoker who hears a scientist or physician
refer to these findings as the basic n a t u r e of m a r i j u a n a intoxica-
tion will simply sneer and have his antiscientific attitude f u r t h e r
reinforced. It is clear to him that the scientist has no real under-
standing of what m a r i j u a n a intoxication is all about (see [105]
for a comprehensive description of this d-ASC).
More formally, an increasingly significant n u m b e r of people
are experimenting with d-ASCs in themselves and finding the
experiences thus gained of extreme importance in their philos-
ophy and style of life. T h e conflict between experiences in these
d-ASCs and the attitudes and intellectual-emotional systems that
have evolved in the ordinary d-SoC is a m a j o r factor behind the
increased alienation of many people from conventional science.
Experiences of ecstasy, mystical union, other dimensions, rapture,
beauty, space-and-time transcendence, and transpersonal knowl-
edge, all common in d-ASCs, are simply not treated adequately
in conventional scientific approaches. T h e s e experiences will not
go away if we crack down more on psychedelic drugs, for im-
mense numbers of people now practice various n o n d r u g tech-
niques for producing d-ASCs, such as meditation [39] and yoga.
My purpose here is to show that it is possible to investigate and
work with the important phenomena of d-ASCs in a m a n n e r that
is perfectly compatible with the essence of scientific method. T h e
conflict discussed above is not necessary.
T o review briefly, a d-ASC is defined as a qualitative alteration
in the overall pattern of mental functioning, such that the ex-
periencer feels his consciousness is radically different from the
way it functions ordinarily. A d-SoC is defined not in terms of
any particular content of consciousness or specific behavior or
physiological change, b u t in terms of the overall patterning of
psychological functioning.
An analogy with computer functioning can clarify this defini-
tion. A computer has a complex program of many subroutines. If
we reprogram it quite differently, the same sorts of i n p u t data
may be handled in quite different ways; we can predict little
from o u r knowledge of die old program about the effects of
varying the i n p u t , even though old and new programs have some
subroutines in common. T h e new program with its input-output
interactions must be studied in and of itself. A d-ASC is analo-
gous to a temporary change in die program of a computer.
T h e d-ASCs experienced by almost all ordinary people are
dreaming states and the hypnagogic and hypnopompic states, the
transitional states between sleeping and waking. Many others
experience another d-ASC, alcohol intoxication.
T h e relatively new (to our culture) d-ASCs that are now
having such an impact are those produced by marijuana, more
powerful psychedelic drugs such as LSD, meditative states, so-
called possession states, and autohypnotic states. 2
States of Consciousness and Paradigms

It is useful to compare this concept of a d-SoC, a qualitatively
distinct organization of the pattern of mental functioning, with
Kuhn's [32] concept of paradigms in science. A paradigm is an
intellectual achievement that underlies normal science and at-
tracts and guides the work of an e n d u r i n g n u m b e r of adherents
in their scientific activity. It is a "super" theory, a formulation wide
enough in scope to affect the organization of most or all of the
2 Note that a d-SoC is defined by the stable parameters of the pattern that
constitute it, not by the particular technique of inducing that pattern.
m a j o r known phenomena of its field. Yet it is sufficiently open-
ended that there still remain important problems to be solved
within that framework. Examples of important paradigms in the
history of science have been Copernican astronomy and New-
tonian dynamics.
Because of their tremendous success, paradigms undergo a
change which, iu principle, ordinary scientific theories d o not
undergo. An ordinary scientific theory is always subject to
f u r t h e r questioning and testing as it is extended. A paradigm
becomes an implicit framework for most scientists working
within it; it is the natural way of looking at things and doing
things. It does not seriously occur to the adherents of a paradigm
to question it (we may ignore, for the moment, the occurrence of
scientific revolutions). Theories become referred to as laws:
people talk of the law of gravity, not the theory of gravity, for
example.
A paradigm serves to concentrate the attention of a researcher
on sensible problem areas and to prevent him from wasting his
time o n what might be trivia. O n the other hand, by implicitly
defining some lines of research as trivial or nonsensical, a para-
digm acts as a blinder. K u h n has discussed this blinding function
as a key factor in the lack of effective communications d u r i n g
paradigm clashes.
T h e concept of a paradigm and a d-SoC are quite similar. Both
constitute complex, interlocking sets of rules and theories that
enable a person to interact with and interpret experiences within
an environment. In both cases, the rules are largely implicit.
T h e y are not recognized as tentative working hypotheses; they
operate automatically and the person feels he is doing the obvi-
ous or natural thing.
Paradigm Clash Between Straight and Hip
H u m a n beings become emotionally attached to the things that

give them success and pleasure, and a scientist making important
progress within a particular paradigm becomes emotionally at-
tached to it. W h e n data that make n o sense in terms of the (im-
plicit) paradigm are brought to his attention, the usual result
is not a reevaluation of the paradigm, b u t a rejection or misper-
ception of the data. T h i s rejection seems rational to others sharing
that paradigm and irrational or rationalizing to those committed
to a different paradigm.
T h e conflict now existing between those who have experienced
certain d-ASCs (whose ranks include many young scientists) and
those who have not is a paradigmatic conflict. For example, a
subject takes LSD and tells his investigator, "You and I, we are
all one, there are n o separate selves." T h e investigator reports that
his subject showed a "confused sense of identity and distorted
thinking process." T h e subject is reporting what is obvious to
him; the investigator is reporting what is obvious to him. T h e
investigator's (implicit) paradigm, based on his scientific train-
ing, his cultural background, and his normal d-SoC, indicates
that a literal interpretation of the subject's statement cannot be
true and therefore the statement must be interpreted as mental
dysfunction o n the part of the subject. T h e subject, his para-
digms radically changed for the m o m e n t by being in a d-ASC,
not only reports what is obviously true to him, b u t perceives the
investigator as showing mental dysfunction because he is incapa-
ble of perceiving the obvious!
Historically, paradigm clashes have been characterized by
bitter emotional antagonisms and total rejection of the oppo-
nent. Currently we see the same sort of process: the respectable
psychiatrist, who would not take any of those "psychotomimetic"
drugs himself or experience that crazy meditation process, carries
o u t research to show that drug-takers and those who practice
meditation are escapists. T h e drug-taker or meditator views the
same investigator as narrow-minded, prejudiced, and repressive,
and as a result drops out of the university. Communication
between the two factions is almost nil.
Must the experiencers of d-ASCs continue to see the scientists
as concentrating on the irrelevant, and scientists see the experi-
encers as confused 3 or mentally ill? O r can science deal ade-
quately with the experiences of these people? T h e thesis I present
is that we can deal with the important aspects of d-ASCs using
the essence of scientific method, even though a variety of non-
essentials, unfortunately identified with current science, hinder
such an effort.
8 States of confusion and impaired functioning may certainly be aspects of

some drug-induced d-ASCs for some people, but are not of primary interest
here.
220
The Nature of Knowledge
Science deals with knowledge. Knowledge may be defined as an
immediately given experiential feeling of congruence between
two different kinds of experience, a matching. O n e set of experi-
ences may be regarded as perceptions of the external world, of
others, of oneself; the second set may be regarded as a theory, a
scheme, a system of understanding. T h e feeling of congruence is
something immediately given in experience, although many
refinements have been worked o u t for judging degrees of con-
gruence.
All knowledge, then, is basically experiential knowledge. Even
my knowledge of the physical world can be reduced to this: given
certain sets of experiences, which I (by assumption) attribute to
activation of my sensory apparatus by the external world, I can
compare them with purely internal experiences (memories, pre-
vious knowledge) and predict with a high degree of reliability
other kinds of experiences, which I again attribute to the exter-
nal world.
Because science has been highly successful in dealing with the
physical world, it has been historically associated with a philos-
ophy of physicalism, the belief that reality is all reducible to
certain kinds of physical entities. T h e vast majority of phenom-
ena of d-ASCs have no known physical manifestations: thus to
physicalistic philosophy they are epiphenomena, not worthy of
study. But since science deals with knowledge, it need not restrict
itself to physical kinds of knowledge.
The Essence of Scientific Method

As satisfying as the feeling of knowing can be, we are often
wrong: what seems like congruence at first, later does not match
or has no generality. Man has learned that his reasoning is often
faulty, his observations often incomplete or mistaken, and that
emotional or other nonconscious factors can seriously distort
both reasoning and observational processes. His reliance on
authorities, "rationality," or "elegance," are n o sure criteria for
achieving truth. T h e development of scientific method may be
seen as a determined effort to systematize the process of acquiring
knowledge in such a way as to minimize the pitfalls of observa-
tion and reasoning.
T h e r e are four basic rules of scientific method to which an
investigator is committed: (I) good observation, (2) the public
nature of observation, (3) the necessity to theorize logically, and
(4) the testing of theory by observable consequences. These
constitute the scientific enterprise. I consider below the wider
application of each rule to d-ASCs and indicate how unnecessary
physicalistic restrictions may be dropped. I also show that all
these commitments or rules can be accommodated in the devel-
opment of state-specific sciences.
OBSERVATION
T h e scientist is committed to observe as well as possible the

phenomena of interest and to search constantly for better ways of
making these observations. But his paradigmatic commitments,
his d-SoCs, make him likely to observe certain parts of reality and
to ignore or observe with error certain other parts of it.
Many of the most important phenomena of d-ASCs have been
observed poorly or not at all because of the physicalistic labeling
of them as epiphenomena, so that they have been called "subjec-
tive," "ephemeral," "unreliable," or "unscientific." Observations
of internal processes are probably much more difficult than those
of external physical processes, because of their inherently greater
complexity. T h e essence of science, however, is to observe what
there is to be observed, whether or not it is difficult.
Furthermore, most of what is known about the phenomena of
d-ASCs has been obtained from untrained people, almost none of
whom have shared the scientist's commitment to constantly re-
examine observations in greater and greater detail. T h i s does not
imply that internal phenomena are inherently unobservable or
unstable; we are comparing the first observations of internal
phenomena with observations of physical sciences that have
undergone centuries of refinement.
W e must consider one other problem of observation. One of
the traditional idols of science, the "detached observer," has no
place in dealing with many internal phenomena of d-SoCs. Not
only are the observer's perceptions selective, he may also affect
the things he observes. W e must try to understand the character-
istics of each individual observer in order to compensate for
them.
A recognition of the unreality of the detached observer in the
psychological sciences is becoming widespread, under the topics
of experimenter bias [55] and demand characteristics [45]. A

similar recognition long ago occurred in physics when it was
realized that the observed was altered by the process of observa-
tion at subatomic levels. W h e n we deal with d-ASCs where the
observer is the experiencer of the d-ASC, this factor is of para-
mount importance. Not knowing the characteristics of the ob-
server can also confound the process of consensual validation.
PUBLIC NATURE OF OBSERVATION
Observations must be public in that they must be replicable by

any properly trained observer. T h e experienced conditions that
led to the report of certain experiences must be described in
sufficient detail that others can duplicate them and consequently
have experiences that meet criteria of identicality. T h a t someone
else may set u p similar conditions b u t not have the same experi-
ences proves that the original investigator gave an incorrect
description of the conditions and observations, or that he was not
aware of certain essential aspects of the conditions.
T h e physicalistic accretion to this rule of consensual validation
is that, physical data being the only "real" data, internal phe-
nomena must be reduced to physiological or behavioral data to
become reliable or they will be ignored entirely. I believe most
physical observations to be much more readily replicable by any
trained observer because they are inherently simpler phenomena
than internal ones. In principle, however, consensual validation
of internal phenomena by a trained observer is possible.
T h e emphasis on public observations in science has had a
misleading quality insofar as it implies that any intelligent m a n
can replicate a scientist's observations. T h i s may have been true
early in the history of science, but nowadays only the trained
observer can replicate many observations. I cannot go into a
modern physicist's laboratory and confirm his observations. In-
deed, his talk of what he has found in his experiments (physicists
seem to talk about innumerable invisible entities) would prob-
ably seem mystical to me, just as descriptions of internal states
sound mystical to those with a background in the physical
sciences. 4
< The degree to which a science can seem incomprehensible, even ridiculous,
to someone not specializing in it never ceases to astound me. I have always
thought I had a good general background in science. So much so that, for
Given the high complexity of the phenomena associated with d-
ASCs, the need for replication by trained observers is exception-
ally important. Since it generally takes four to ten years of
intensive training to produce a scientist in any of the conven-
tional disciplines, we should not be surprised that there has been
little reliability of observations by untrained observers of d-ASC
phenomena.
Further, for the state-specific sciences I propose, we cannot
specify the requirements that constitute adequate training.
These can only be determined after considerable trial and error.
W e should also recognize that very few people may complete the
training successfully. Some people do not have the necessary
innate characteristics to become physicists, and some probably do
not have the innate characteristics to become scientific investi-
gators of meditative states.
Public observation, then, always refers to a limited, specially
trained public. It is only by basic agreement among those spe-
cially trained people that data become accepted as a foundation
for the development of a science. T h a t laymen cannot replicate
the observations is of little relevance.
A second problem in consensual validation arises from a phe-
nomenon predicted by my concept of d-ASCs, but not yet empiri-
cally investigated: state-specific communication. Given that a
d-ASC is an overall qualitative and quantitative shift in the com-
plex functioning of consciousness, producing new logics and
perceptions (which constitute a paradigm shift), it is q u i t e rea-
sonable to hypothesize that communication may take a different
pattern. For two observers, both of whom, we assume, are fluent
in communicating with each other in a given d-SoC, communica-
tion about some new observations may seem adequate or may be
improved or deteriorated in specific ways. T o an outside ob-
server, an observer in a different d-SoC, the communication
between these two observers may seem deteriorated.
Practically all investigations of communication by persons in d-
example, I was able to appreciate some of the in-group humor in an article

I read in Science some years ago about quarks. Quarks? Yes, quarks. To me, the
article was obviously a put-on, about how physicists were hunting for
particles no one had ever seen, called quarks. Much of the humor was too
technical for me to understand, but I was pleased that a staid journal like
Science could unbend enough to publish humor. Of course, it was not
humor. Physicists are very serious about quarks, even though no one has ever
detected one with certainty (at least not yet, despite an awful lot of research).
ASCs have resulted in reports of deterioration of communication

abilities. In designing their studies, however, these investigators
have not taken into account the fact that the pattern of commu-
nication may have changed. If I am listening to two people
speaking in English, and they suddenly begin to intersperse
words and phrases in Polish, I, as an outside (non-Polish-speak-
ing) observer, note a gross deterioration in communication.
Adequacy of communication between people in the same d-SoC
and across d-SoCs must be empirically determined. T h i s is dis-
cussed in Chapter 15.
T h u s consensual validation may be restricted by the fact that
only observers in the same d-ASC are able to communicate ade-
quately to each other. Someone in a different d-SoC, say normal
consciousness, might find their communication incomprehensible. 5
THEORIZING
A scientist may theorize about his observations as much as he

wishes, but the theory he develops must consistently account for
all he has observed and should have a logical structure that other
scientists can comprehend (but not necessarily accept).
T h e requirement to theorize logically and consistently with
the data is not as simple as it looks, however. Any logic consists of
a basic set of assumptions and a set of rules for manipulating
information based on these assumptions. Change the assump-
tions, or change the rules, and there may be entirely different
outcomes from the same data. A paradigm, too, is a logic: it has
certain assumptions and rules for working within these assump-
tions. By changing the paradigm, altering the d-SoC, the n a t u r e
of theory-building may change radically. T h u s a person in d-SoC
2 might come to very different conclusions about the n a t u r e of
the same events that he observed in d-SoC 1. An investigator in d-
SoC 1 can comment o n the comprehensibility of the second
person's ideas from the point of view (paradigm) of d-SoC 1, but
can say nothing about their inherent validity. A scientist who
could enter either d-SoC 1 or d-SoC 2, however, could evaluate
the comprehensibility of the other's theory and the adherence of
o A state-specific scientist might find his own work somewhat incom-

prehensible when he was not in his work d-ASC because of the phenomenon
of state-specific memory. Not enough of his work would transfer to his ordinary
d-SoC to make it comprehensible, even though it would again make perfect
sense when he was again in the d-ASC in which he did his scientific work.
that theory to the rules and logic of d-SoC 2. T h u s , scientists
trained to work in the same d-SoC can check on the logical valid-
ity of each other's theorizing. So we can have inter-observer val-
idation of the state-specific logic underlying theorizing in various
d-SoCs.
OBSERVABLE CONSEQUENCES
Any theory a scientist develops must have observable conse-

quences, it must be possible to make predictions that can be
verified by observation. If such verification is not obtained, the
theory must be considered invalid, regardless of its elegance, logic
or other appeal.
Ordinarily we think of empirical validation, validation in
terms of testable consequences that produce physical effects, but
this is misleading. Any effect, whether interpreted as physical or
nonphysical, is ultimately an experience in the observer's mind.
All that is essentially required to validate a theory is that it
predict that when a certain experience (observed condition) has
occurred, another (predicted) kind of experience will follow,
under specified experiential conditions. T h u s a perfectly scien-
tific theory may be based on data that have no physical existence.
W e tend to envision the practice of science like this: centered
around interest in some particular range of subject matter, a
small n u m b e r of highly selected, talented, and rigorously trained
people spend considerable time making detailed observations o n
the subject matter of interest. T h e y may or may not have special
places (laboratories) or instruments or methods to assist them in
making finer observations. T h e y speak to one another in a
special language that they feel conveys precisely the important
facts of their field. Using this language, they confirm and extend
each other's knowledge of certain data basic to the field. T h e y
theorize about their basic data and construct elaborate systems.
T h e y validate these by recourse to f u r t h e r observation. These
trained people all have a long-term commitment to the constant
refinement of observation and extension of theory. T h e i r activity
is frequently incomprehensible to laymen.
T h i s general description is equally applicable to a variety of
sciences or areas that could become sciences, whether we called
226
such areas biology, physics, chemistry, psychology, understanding
of mystical states, or drug-induced enhancement of cognitive
processes. T h e particulars of research look different, but the basic
scientific method is the same.
I propose the creation of various state-specific sciences. If such
sciences can be created we will have a group of highly skilled,
dedicated, and trained practitioners able to achieve certain d-
SoCs, and able to agree with one another that they have attained
a common state. While in that d-SoC, they can investigate other
areas of interest—totally internal phenomena of that given state,
the interaction of that state with external physical reality, or
people in other d-SoCs.
T h e fact that the experimenter can function skillfully in the d-
SoC itself for a state-specific science does not necessarily mean he
must always be the subject. While he may often be the subject,
observer, and experimenter simultaneously, it is quite possible
for him to collect data from experimental manipulations of other
subjects in the d-SoC, and either be in that d-SoC himself at the
time of data collection or be in that d-SoC himself for data
reduction and theorizing.
Examples of some observations made and theorizing done by a
scientist in a specific d-ASC would illustrate the n a t u r e of a
proposed state-specific science. But this is not possible because no
state-specific sciences have yet been established. 6 Also, any ex-
ample that would make good sense to the readers of this chapter
(who are, presumably, all in an ordinary d-SoC) would not really
illustrate the uniqueness of a state-specific science. If it did make
sense, it would be an example of a problem that could be
approached adequately from both the d-ASC and o u r ordinary
d-SoC, and thus it would be too easy to see the entire problem in
terms of accepted scientific procedures for o u r ordinary d-SoC and
miss the point about the necessity for developing state-specific
sciences.
State-Specific Sciences and Religion
Some aspects of organized religion appear to resemble state-

specific sciences. T h e r e are techniques that allow the believer to
6 "Ordinary consciousness science" is not a good example of a pure state-

specific science because many important discoveries have occurred during
d-ASCs such as reverie, dreaming, and meditative states.
enter a d-ASC and then have religious experiences in that d-ASC
that are proof of his religious belief. People who have had such
experiences usually describe them as ineffable, not fully compre-
hensible in an ordinary d-SoC. Conversions at revival meetings
are the most common examples of religious experiences occurring
in d-ASCs induced by an intensely emotional atmosphere.
T h e esoteric training systems of some religions seem to have
even more resemblance to state-specific sciences. O f t e n there are
devoted specialists, complex techniques, a n d repeated experienc-
ing of the d-ASCs in order to f u r t h e r religious knowledge.
Nevertheless, the proposed state-specific sciences are not simply
religion in a new guise. T h e use of d-ASCs in religion may
involve the kind of commitment to searching for truth that is
needed for developing a state-specific science, but practically all
the religions we know can mainly be defined as state-specific tech-
nologies, operated in the service of a priori belief systems. T h e
experiencers of d-ASCs in most religious contexts have already
been thoroughly indoctrinated in a particular belief system. T h i s
belief system may then mold the content of the d-ASCs to create
specific experiences that reinforce or validate the belief system.
T h e crucial distinction between a religion utilizing d-ASCs
and a state-specific science is the commitment of the scientist to
reexamine constantly his own belief system and to question the
"obvious," in spite of its intellectual or emotional appeal to him.
Investigators of d-ASCs will certainly encounter an immense
variety of phenomena labeled religious experience or mystical
revelation d u r i n g the development of state-specific sciences, but
they must remain committed to examining these phenomena
more carefully, sharing their observations and techniques with
colleagues, and subjecting the beliefs (hypotheses, theories) that
result from such experiences to the requirement of leading to
testable predictions. In practice, because we are aware of the
immense emotional power of mystical experiences, this is a diffi-
cult task, but it is o n e that must be undertaken by disciplined
investigators if we are to understand various d-ASCs.T
1 The idea of state-specific knowledge, introduced earlier, casts some light

on an aspect of organized religions, the "dryness" of theology. Consider the
feeling so many, both inside and outside organized religion, have had, that
theology is intellectual hair-splitting, an activity irrelevant to what Teligion
is all about. I believe this is true in many cases, and the reason is that the
essence of much religion is state-specific knowledge, knowledge that can
really be known only in a d-ASC. The original founders of the religion
Relationship Between State-Specific Sciences
Any (state-specific) science may be considered as consisting of

two parts: observations and theories. T h e observations are what
can be experienced relatively directly; the theories are the infer-
ences about what nonobservable factors account for the observa-
tions. For example, the phenomenon of synesthesia (seeing colors
as a result of hearing sounds) is a theoretical proposition for me
in my ordinary d-SoC: I do not experience it and can only
generate theories about what other people report about it. If I
were under the influence of a psychedelic d r u g such as LSD or
marijuana [105], I could probably experience synesthesia di-
rectly, and my descriptions of the experience would become
data.
Figure lfr-1 (reprinted from C. T a r t , Science, 1972, 176 1203-
1210, by permission of the American Association for the Advance-
ment of Science) demonstrates some possible relationships be-
tween three state-specific sciences. State-specific sciences 1 and 2
show considerable overlap.
T h e area labeled OjOa permits direct observation in both
sciences. Area T i T 2 permits theoretical inferences about com-
mon subject matter from the two perspectives. In area OjTa, by
contrast, the theoretical propositions of state-specific science 2 are
matters of direct observation for the scientist in d-SoC 1, and vice
versa for the area T j 0 2 . State-specific science 3 consists of a body
of observation and theory exclusive to that science and has no
overlap with the two other sciences: it does not confirm, contra-
dict, or complement them.
It would be naively reductionistic to say that the work in o n e
know certain things in a d-ASC, they talk about them in the ordinary d-SoC.
They realize the words are a poor reflection of the direct experiential knowl-
edge, but the words are all they have to talk with. As the generations pass,
more and more theologians who have no direct knowledge of what the words
are about discuss the meaning of the words at greater and greater length, and
the divergence of the words from the original state-specific knowledge becomes
greater and greater.
There are warnings in some religious literature [128] not to take the words
literally, to use them only as pointers of the direction experience must go,
but our culture is so fascinated with words that we seldom heed such warnings.
So perhaps ideas like "we are all one" or "love pervades the entire universe"
cannot be adequately comprehended in the ordinary d-SoC, no matter how
hard we try, although they may appropriately affect our thoughts and actions
in the ordinary d-SoC if we have first experienced them, understood them, in
the appropriate d-ASC.
state-specific science 1
Figure 16-1. Possible relationships among three state-specific sciences
state-specific science validates or invalidates the work in a second

state-specific science; I prefer to say that two different state-
specific sciences, where they overlap, provide quite different
points of view with respect to certain kinds of theories and data,
and thus complement8 each other. T h e proposed creation of
state-specific sciences neither validates nor invalidates the activ-
8 The term complement is used in a technical sense here, as it is in physics,
meaning that each of two explanatory systems deals well with overlapping data
areas, but neither disproves the other and neither can be incorporated into
some more comprehensive theoretical system as a special case. For example,
the electron can be treated adequately as a wave or as a particle. The wave
theory handles some kinds of data better than the particle theory, and vice
versa.
ities of normal consciousness sciences. T h e possibility of develop-

ing certain state-specific sciences means only that certain kinds of
phenomena may be handled more adequately within these
potential new sciences.
Interrelationships more complex than those illustrated in Fig.
16-1 are possible.
T h e possibility of stimulating interactions between different
state-specific sciences is very real. Creative breakthroughs in
normal consciousness sciences have frequently been made by
scientists temporarily in a d-ASC [18]. In such instances, the
scientists concerned saw quite different views of their problems
and performed different kinds of reasoning, conscious or noncon-
scious, which led to results that could be tested within their
normal consciousness science.
A current example of such interaction is the finding that in
Zen meditation (a highly developed discipline in J a p a n ) there
are physiological correlates of meditative experiences, such as
decreased frequency of alpha-rhythm, which can also be pro-
duced by means of instrumentally aided feedback-learning tech-
niques [23]. T h i s finding may elucidate some of the processes
peculiar to each discipline.
A widespread and misleading assumption that hinders the

development of state-specific sciences and confuses their interrela-
tionships is the assumption that because two people are "normal"
(not certified insane), their ordinary d-SoCs are essentially the
same. In reality I suspect that there are enormous differences
between the d-SoCs of some normal people. Because societies
train people to behave and communicate along socially approved
lines, these differences are obscured.
For example, some people think in images, others in words.
Some can voluntarily anesthetize parts of their body, most can-
not. Some recall past events by imaging the scene and looking
at the relevant details; others use complex verbal processes with
n o images.
T h i s means that person A may be able to observe certain kinds
of experiential data that person B cannot experience in his
ordinary d-SoC, n o matter how hard B tries. T h e r e may be
several consequences. Person B may think A is insane, too imagi-
native, or a liar, or he may feel inferior to A. Person A may also
feel himself odd, if he takes B as a standard of normality.
B may be able to enter a d-ASC and there experience the sorts
of things A has reported to him. A realm of knowledge that is
ordinary for A is then specific for a d-ASC for B. Similarly, some
of the experiences of B in his d-ASC may not be available for
direct observation by A in his ordinary d-SoC.
T h e phenomenon of synesthesia can again serve as an example.
Some individuals possess this ability in their ordinary d-SoC, most
d o not. Yet 56 percent of a sample of experienced m a r i j u a n a
users experienced synesthesia at least occasionally [105] while in
the drug-induced d-ASC.
T h u s bits of knowledge that are specific for a d-ASC for one
individual may be part of ordinary consciousness for another.
Arguments over the usefulness of the concept of states of con-
sciousness may reflect differences in the structure of the ordinary
d-SoC of various investigators, as we discussed in Chapter 9.
Another important source of individual differences, little
understood at present, is the degree to which an individual can
first make an observation or form a concept in one d-SoC and
then reexperience or comprehend it in another d-SoC. Many
items of information that were state-specific when observed ini-
tially may be learned and somehow transferred (fully or par-
tially) to another d-SoC. Differences across individuals, various
combinations of d-SoCs, and types of experience are probably
enormous.
I have outlined only the complexities created by individual
differences in normal d-SoCs and have used the normal d-SoC as
a baseline for comparison with d-ASCs, but it is evident that
every d-SoC must eventually be compared against every other d-
SoC.
Problems, Pitfalls, and Personal Perils
If we use the practical experience of Western m a n with d-ASCs

as a guide, the development of state-specific sciences will be beset
by a n u m b e r of difficulties. These difficulties will be of two kinds:
general methodological problems stemming f r o m the inherent
nature of some d-ASCs, and those concerned with personal perils
to the investigator.
232
STATE-RELATED PROBLEMS
T h e first important problem in the proposed development of

state-specific sciences is the "obvious" perception of truth. In
many d-ASCs, one's experience is that one is obviously and
lucidly experiencing t r u t h directly, without question. An im-
mediate result of this may be an extinction of the desire for
f u r t h e r questioning. Further, this experience of "obvious" truth,
while not necessarily preventing the investigator from f u r t h e r
examining his data, may not arouse his desire for consensual
validation. Since one of the greatest strengths of science is its
insistence on consensual validation of basic data, this can be a
serious drawback. Investigators attempting to develop state-
specific sciences must learn to distrust the obvious.
A second m a j o r problem in developing state-specific sciences
is that in some d-ASCs one's abilities to visualize and imagine are
immensely enhanced, so that whatever one imagines seems per-
fectly real. T h u s one can imagine that something is being ob-
served and experience it as d a t u m . If the scientist can conjure u p
anything he wishes, how can he ever get at truth?
One approach to this problem is to consider any such vivid
imaginings as potential effects: they are data in the sense that
what can be vividly imagined in a d-SoC is important to know. It
may be that not everything can be imagined with equal facility
and relationships between what can be imagined may show a
lawful pattern.
Another approach is to realize that this problem is not unique
to d-ASCs. One can have illusions and misperceptions in the
ordinary d-SoC. Before the rise of modern physical science, all
sorts of things were imagined about the nature of the physical
world that could not be directly refuted. T h e same techniques
that eliminated these illusions in the physical sciences can also
eliminate them in state-specific sciences dealing with nonphysical
data. All observations must be subjected to consensual validation
and all their theoretical consequences must be examined. Those
that d o not show consistent patterns and cannot be replicated can
be distinguished from those phenomena that do show general
lawfulness across individuals.
T h e effects of this enhanced vividness of imagination in some
d-ASCs will be complicated f u r t h e r by two other problems: ex-
perimenter bias [45, 55] and the fact that one person's illusion
in a given d-ASC can sometimes be communicated to another
person in the same d-ASC so that a false consensual validation
results. Again, the only long-term solution is the requirement
that predictions based on concepts arising from various experi-
ences be verified experientially.
A third major problem is that state-specific sciences probably
cannot be developed for all d-ASCs: some d-ASCs may depend on
or result from genuine deterioration of observational and reason-
ing abilities or from a deterioration of volition. But the develop-
ment of each state-specific science should result from trial and er-
ror, and not from a priori decisions based on reasoning in the
ordinary d-SoC that would rule out attempts to develop a science
for some particular state.
A fourth major problem is that of ineffability. Some experi-
ences are ineffable in the sense that (1) a person may experience
them, but be unable to express or conceptualize them adequately
to himself; (2) while a person may be able to conceptualize an
experience to himself h e may not be able to communicate it
adequately to anyone else. Certain phenomena of the first type
may simply be inaccessible to scientific investigation. Phenomena
of the second type may be accessible to scientific investigation
only insofar as we are willing to recognize that a science, in the
sense of following most of the basic rules, may exist only for a
single person. Since such a solitary science lacks all the advan-
tages gained by consensual validation, we cannot expect it to
have as much power and rigor as conventional scientific en-
deavor.
Many phenomena that are now considered ineffable may not
be so in reality. T h e i r apparent ineffability may be a function of
general lack of experience with d-ASCs and the lack of an ade-
quate language for communicating about d-ASC phenomena. In
most well-developed languages the major part of the vocabulary
was developed primarily in adaptation to survival in the physical
world. 9
Finally, various phenomena of d-ASCs may be too complex for
9 Note too that we are a hyperverbal culture, so ineffable essentially means

not communicable in words. But there are other forms of communication.
Riding a bicycle or swimming are both ineffable, in the sense that I have
never seen a good verbal description of either, but they can be taught. Orn-
stein [47] presents convincing data that the right hemisphere of the brain
specializes in nonverbal functioning, and argues that many of the seemingly
exotic techniques of Eastern spiritual disciplines are actually ways of com-
municating and teaching in the nonverbal mode.
h u m a n beings to understand. T h e phenomena may depend on or

be affected by so many variables that we can never understand
them. In the history of science, however, many phenomena that
appeared too complex at first eventually became comprehensible.
PERSONAL PERILS
T h e personal perils an investigator faces in attempting to

develop a state-specific science are of two kinds: those associated
with reactions colloquially called a bad trip and a good trip.
Bad trips, in which an extremely unpleasant emotional re-
action is experienced in a d-ASC, and from which there are
possible long-term adverse consequences on personal adjustment,
often occur because upbringing has not prepared us to undergo
radical alterations in o u r ordinary d-SoC. W e depend on stability,
we fear the unknown, and we develop personal rigidities and
various kinds of personal and social taboos. It is traditional in
our society to consider d-ASCs as signs of insanity; d-ASCs there-
fore can cause great fear in those who experience them.
In many d-ASCs, defenses against unacceptable personal im-
pulses become partially or wholly ineffective, so that the person
feels flooded with traumatic material he cannot handle. All these
things result in fear and avoidance of d-ASCs, and make it
difficult or impossible for some individuals to function in a d-
ASC in a way that is consistent with the development of state-
specific science. Maslow [36] discusses these as pathologies of
cognition that seriously interfere with the scientific enterprise in
general, as well as ordinary life. I n principle, adequate selection
and training can minimize these hazards for at least some people.
Good trips may also endanger an investigator. A trip may
produce experiences so rewarding that they interfere with the
scientific activity of the investigator. T h e perception of "obvi-
ous" truth and its effect of eliminating the need for further
investigation or consensual validation have already been men-
tioned. Another peril comes from the ability to imagine or create
vivid experiences. They may be so highly rewarding that the
investigator does not follow the rule of investigating the obvious
regardless of his personal satisfaction with results. Similarly, his
attachment to good feelings, ecstasy, and the like, and his refusal
to consider alternative conceptualizations of these, can stifle the
progress of investigation.
These personal perils emphasize the necessity of developing
adequate training programs for scientists who wish to develop
state-specific sciences. Although such a training program is diffi-
cult to envision, it is evident that much conventional scientific
training is contrary to what is needed to develop a state-specific
science, because it tends to produce rigidity and avoidance of
personal involvement with subject matter, rather than open-
mindedness and flexibility. Much of the training program must
be devoted to the scientist's understanding of himself so that the
(unconscious) effects of his personal biases are minimized d u r i n g
his investigations of a d-ASC.
T h e r e are scientists who, after becoming personally involved
with d-ASCs, have subsequently become poor scientists or have
experienced personal psychological crises. It is premature, how-
ever, to conclude that such u n f o r t u n a t e consequences cannot be
avoided by proper training and discipline. I n the early history of
the physical sciences many scientists were fanatics who were
nonobjective about their investigations. Not all experiencers of d-
ASCs develop pathology as a result: indeed, many seem to be-
come considerably more mature. Given the current social climate,
we hear of the failures, but not the successes. Only from actual
attempts to develop state-specific sciences can we determine the
actual d-SoCs that are suitable for development and the kinds of
people best suited to such work. 10
Prospects
I believe that an examination of h u m a n history and o u r cur-

rent situation provides the strongest argument for the need to
develop state-specific sciences. T h r o u g h o u t history m a n has been
influenced by the spiritual and mystical factors expressed (usu-
ally in watered-down form) in the religions that attract the
masses. Spiritual and mystical experiences are primary phenom-
ena of various d-ASCs: because of such experiences, untold num-
bers of both the noblest and most horrible acts of which men are
capable have been committed. Yet in all the time that Western
science has existed, n o concerted attempt has been made to
understand these d-ASC phenomena in scientific terms.
10 The d-ASCs resulting from very dangerous drugs may be scientifically

interesting, but the risk may be too high to warrant developing state-specific
sciences for them. The personal and social issues involved in evaluating this
kind of risk are beyond the scope of this book.
Many hoped that religions were simply a form of superstition
that would be left behind in our "rational" age. Not only has
this hope failed, b u t our own understanding of the n a t u r e of
reasoning now makes it clear that it can never be fulfilled.
Reason is a tool, a tool that is wielded in the service of assump-
tions, beliefs and needs that are not themselves subject to reason.
T h e irrational, or better, the arational, will not disappear from
the h u m a n situation. Our immense success in the development of
the physical sciences has not been particularly successful in
formulating better philosophies of life or increasing our real
knowledge of ourselves. T h e sciences we have developed to date
are not very h u m a n sciences. T h e y tell us how to do things, b u t
give us n o scientific insights on questions of what to do, what not
to do, or why to d o things.
T h e youth of today and mature scientists are turning to med-
itation, Oriental religions, and personal use of psychedelic drugs
in increasing numbers. T h e phenomena encountered in these d-
ASCs provide more satisfaction and are more relevant to the
formulation of philosophies of life and decisions about appropri-
ate ways of living, than "pure reason" [40]. My own impressions
are that large numbers of scientists are now personally exploring
d-ASCs, but few have begun to connect this personal exploration
with their scientific activities.
It is difficult to predict the chances of developing state-specific
sciences. O u r knowledge is still too diffuse and dependent on the
normal d-SoC. Yet I think it is probable that state-specific sci-
ences can be developed for such d-ASCs as autohypnosis, medita-
tive states, lucid dreaming, marijuana intoxication, LSD intoxica-
tion, self-remembering, reverie, and biofeedback-induced states
[88 or 115]. In all these d-ASCs, volition seems to be retained, so
that the observer can indeed carry out experiments on himself or
others or both. Some d-ASCs, in which the volition to experiment
d u r i n g the state may disappear, but in which some experimenta-
tion can be carried out if special conditions are prepared before
the state is entered, are alcohol intoxication, ordinary dreaming,
hypnagogic and hypnopompic states, and high dreams [88 or 115].
It is not clear whether other d-ASCs are suitable for developing
state-specific sciences or whether mental deterioration is too great.
Such questions can only be answered by experiment.
I have nothing against religious and mystical groups. Yet I
suspect that the vast majority of them have developed compelling
belief systems rather than state-specific sciences. Will scientific
method be extended to the development of state-specific sciences
to improve o u r h u m a n situation? O r will the immense power of d-
ASCs be left in the hands of many cults and sects?
Higher States of Consciousness
A common reaction to the proposal for creating state-specific

sciences is that the project is not necessary, that there is already a
superior d-SoC for understanding things. Orthodox scientists
[122] aver that the ordinary, "normal" d-SoC is the best, most
rational d-SoC possible, so we need only continue the scientific
research already begun in that state to ultimately find answers to
all our questions. On the other hand, some people who have ex-
perienced d-ASCs believe that there are higher d-SoCs in which
T r u t h can be directly known so we need not develop sciences in
these d-SoCs, only experience them: ultimately we can experience
states of enlightenment in which all that is worth knowing or at-
taining is known and attained.
However, the feeling of being in direct contact with the T r u t h
is no guarantee that such contact has actually been achieved.
Such feelings are a part of being human, but such "certain
truths," when acted upon, often turn out to be false. They do not
work. A primary rule of science is that you must test your
understandings against the observable area of reality/experience
to which they apply: if observed experience does not tally with
the prediction of your truth/theory/understanding, then your
truth/theory/understanding is false or needs revision. Scientifi-
cally, we cannot broadly assume that any particular d-SoC is
higher, in the sense of supplying more insight into truth; we
must study and test the various aspects of various d-SoCs in
2_J0 Higher States of Consciousness 239
detail. Since a principal task of science is reliable, detailed de-
scription, it seems preferable to discard the idea of higher states
altogether at this stage and concentrate on description.
Yet since experiencers of d-ASCs often describe them as higher
or lower states, we should, to be adequately descriptive, examine
more closely the idea of higher states.
W h a t does a person mean when he says, "I'm high" or "I'm in
a higher state of consciousness"?
O n its simplest level, the statement "I'm high" simply means
that I feel better now than I did under some other condition. If I
had a bad toothache a few minutes ago, and now the pain has
stopped, I can say that now I'm high. I feel much better than
before. If I am neurotic in my ordinary d-SoC and suffer constant
tensions, fears, and anxieties, and I get d r u n k and feel good,
again I can say I'm high by comparison. T o reverse this, if I
become frightened or feel sick when I am drunk, I can use the
phrase "I'm high" to describe my ordinary d-SoC in which I do
not feel frightened or sick.
If, then, we clearly describe the reference state and the way in
which the current state differs from it, the statement "I'm high"
is a useful relative description. Unfortunately, people usually
employ the phrase without any clear description of the reference
state or the specific way in which the current condition differs
from it. Add to this the great individual differences in ordinary d-
SoCs, and the degree to which the common language of consensus
reality glosses over these differences, and you can see that "I'm
high" is usually an ambiguous phrase indicating only that I feel
better than in some other, u n k n o w n condition. Perhaps I am in a
state of fear and anxiety now and that is better than the terror I
experienced a few minutes ago, or perhaps I feel blissfully at one
with the whole cosmos.
Higher and Lower d-SoCs
T h e r e is a more specific use of the adjectives higher and lower,

where the user envisions some absolute ordering of d-SoCs on a
value scale. T h u s higher and lower become much more specific,
less relative, terms. Five such value scales are discussed below.
None are scientific scales in the sense of being subjected to
prolonged and precise scrutiny by groups of scientists; n o such
scales exist at this stage of our knowledge.
complete
' rationality 1
ordinary
rationality
creative states: regressio

in t h e s e r v i c e o f t h e ego
^REAMING^
h a l l u c i n o g e n i c - d r u g - in
states
Figure 17-1. Orthodox Western, largely implicit valuation of various

states.
T h e first value scale is depicted in Figure 17-1. It is the value-

scaling of d-SoCs implicitly held by most Western intellectuals. I
stress that it is held implicitly: it is conveyed along with the
general value system of our society in the enculturation process,
without need for a teacher to say explicitly, "Complete ration-
ality is our goal and anything less than that is an inferior, lower
state of consciousness."
T h e primary value in this scheme is rationality, adherence to
2)2 Higher States of Consciousness 241
the logic and values our culture believes are true. T h e scheme
recognizes that the ordinary state is occasionally neurotic, in that
rationality is often replaced by rationalization of processes based
on unconscious drives and emotions. If only we could be cured of
these occasional neurotic flaws, it is reasoned, we could be com-
pletely rational (although we d o not like "completely rational"
to being equated with being computerlike). Dreaming is a lower
d-SoC because there are many logical flaws in it and the dreamer
is out of touch with (consensus) reality. Psychotic states 1 are even
lower in these ways, and toxic psychoses (states induced by major
poisonings) are usually the most irrational and out-of-touch
states of all.
Some ambivalent recognition is given to the value of creative
states, so they are shown between ordinary rationality and
dreaming. Most intellectuals consider such creative states the
province of artists or fringe intellectuals, not themselves, and,
since these states are associated with emotionality, they are
viewed ambivalently. Marijuana intoxication is generally valued
about the same as dreaming: it is irrational and out of touch,
but probably not too harmful. Psychedelic-drug-induced changes
in consciousness are considered more dangerous and out of touch,
like psychoses.
T h i s ordering of these conditions and d-SoCs is not scientific
for it has never been made explicit and subjected to detailed
examination to determine how well it orders reality. Further, its
implicitness under ordinary circumstances makes it a barrier to
better understanding. W h e n a value system or a set of assump-
tions is implicit, you d o not know you have it, so you do not
question its value. You automatically perceive and think in terms
of the value/assumption system. For example, anything said by a
person labeled "psychotic" must be viewed as a sign of his crazi-
ness, not to be taken at face value. Patients are crazy; the doctors
are sane.
Many individuals have valuations of d-SoCs somewhat differ-
ent from the scheme shown in Figure 17-1, of course, b u t this
generally represents the d-SoC valuation system of most intellec-
tuals, doctors, psychiatrists, psychologists, and scientists—the
people thought to be authorities in these matters.
A quite different valuing of d-SoCs is held by many people we
11 use "state" very loosely in this chapter, for we do not know whether
all of these value-ordered "states" arc stable d-SoCs.
can call hip. As is true of the orthodox ordering, there are
important individual exceptions, but the scheme fits many
people, especially the young. If you are a parent whose valua-
tion system is orthodox, you may well have experienced some
bitter arguments with your sons or daughters whose valuation
system is hip.
In this system (Figure 17-2) the highest states are mystical
^dreaming)
( psychotic toxic j
i states psychoses j
Figure 17-2. T h e "hip" valuation of various states.

*34 Higher States of Consciousness 243
experiences, often experienced in conjunction with psychedelic-
drug-induced states or meditative states. Creative states and
marijuana intoxication are next in value, and some of the experi-
ences of the higher states can be achieved in them, albeit at
reduced intensity. T h e n comes an open or loose rationality, an
ordinary d-SoC in which, because you recall (at least partially)
experiences of higher d-ASCs, you do not take too seriously the
apparent rationality of your culture's consensus reality. You can
function well enough in an ordinary d-SoC, b u t you do not value
that d-SoC as highly as d o those who have no other reference
experiences of higher states.
Ordinary, neurotically flawed rationality is the next lower
state. A state of complete rationality is valued somewhere be-
tween open and ordinary rationality, a reflection of existing
suspicion of a totally unemotional, computerlike state. Dreaming
is generally considered somewhat lower than ordinary rational-
ity, although it is recognized that some dreams can be inspired;
psychoses and toxic psychoses are at the bottom of the value
continuum. As with dreaming, there is recognition that psychotic
states can sometimes be very high, however.
Which of these two value continua is true? Which is more
useful?
Neither. I n neither have details about each state and the
performance potential with respect to specific tasks in each state
been clarified.
Can you argue that the orthodox ordering is more workable for
surviving in consensus reality? W h a t about those other adherents
to the relatively high state of ordinary rationality who order
napalm dropped on children to protect them from (fill in
your favorite -ism) ? Can you argue that the h i p ordering is better
for realizing oneself? W h a t about all the starving children in
countries like India, where mystical states have long been con-
sidered the highest by cultural norms? O r the near total failure
rate of communes of American young people who accept the hip
value ordering?
I offer n o answers to these questions. Indeed, the questions and
examples I have chosen are designed to illustrate how poor our
understanding is at present. Higher or lower for what specific
thing? T h a t is the question we must keep constantly in mind.
Three Explicit Orderings
T h r e e systems for value-ordering d-SoCs are described below to
illustrate that explicit and detailed orderings are possible. T w o
are from the Buddhist tradition and one from the Arica tradition.
While none of these is scientific, each is capable of being cast as a
scientific theory and tested.
Figure 17-3 presents an ordering of nine d-SoCs that are all
higher than ordinary consciousness. These are d-SoCs 2 to be
obtained sequentially in seeking enlightenment through a path
of concentrative meditation in Buddhism.
T h e underlying value dimension here might be called free-
dom. T h e Buddha taught that the ordinary state is one of
suffering and entrapment in the forms and delusions of our own
minds. T h e root cause of this suffering is attachment, the
(automatized) desire to prolong pleasure and avoid pain. T h e
journey along the Path of Concentration starts when the medi-
tator tries to focus attention on some particular object of concen-
tration. As he progresses, his concentration becomes more subtle
and powerful and he eventually moves from formed experiences
(all form has the seeds of illusion in it) to a series of formless
states, culminating in the eighth jhana, where there is neither
perception nor nonperception of anything.
Figure 17-4 illustrates another succession of higher states
within the Buddhist framework. Here the technique involves not
one-pointed, successively refined concentration, but successively
refined states of insight into the ultimate nature of one's own
mind. Starting from either the state of Access Concentration
(where ability to focus is quite high) or the state of Bare Insight
(proficiency in noticing internal experiences), the meditator
becomes increasingly able to observe the phenomena of the mind,
and to see their inherently unsatisfactory character. T h e ultimate
goal is a state called nirodh, which is beyond awareness itself.
Nirodh is the ultimate accomplishment in this particular version
of Buddhism, higher than the eighth jhana on the Path of
Concentration. T h e reader interested in more detail about these
2 We do not know enough about these states in scientific terms to be sure

whether they represent nine d-SoCs with the quantum jump between each or
a smaller number of d-SoCs, some of whose distinctions actually are differ-
ences in depth within a d-SoC. For purposes of discussion here, however, we will
assume these jhana states, and the states described in Figures 17-4 and 17-5,
are all d-SoCs.
8th J H A N A
STATES
LOW I
Figure 17-3. Higher states of consciousness on the Buddhist Path of
Concentration.
246
Higher States of Consciousness
NIRODH
TOTAL CESSATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS
E F F O R T L E S S INSIGHT
CONTEMPLATION IS QUICK, E F F O R T L E S S , INOEFATIGABLE.
NSTANTANEOUS KNOWLEDGE Of AN A T TA, ANlCCA, OUKKHA
CESSATION OF PAIN, PERVASIVE EQUANIMITY
REALIZATION
REALIZATIONS OF THE OREADFUL, UNSATISFACTORY, ANO WEARISOME NATURE OF PHYSICAL

ANO MENTAL PHENOMENA. PHYSICAL PAIN. ARISING OF OESlRE TO ESCAPE THESE PHENOMENA
PERCEPTION OF VANISHING OF MtNO OBJECTS: PERCEPTION FAST ANO
FLAWLESS OISAPPEARANCE OF LIGHTS, RAPTURE, ETC
PSE U D O N IR V A N A
C L E A R PERCEPTION OP THE ARISING ANO PASSING OF EACH SUCCESSIVE MIND MOMENT,

ACCOMPANIEO BY VARIOUS PHENOMENA SUCH AS BRILLIANT LIGHT, RAPTUROUS
FEELINGS, TRANQUILITY, DEVOTION, ENERGY, HAPPINESS, STRONG MINOFULNESS,
EOUANIMITY TOWARO OBJECTS OF CONTEMPLATION, QUICK ANO C L E A R PERCEPTION,
ANO ATTACHMENT TO THESE NeWLY ARISEN STATES
S T A G E OF R E F L E C T I O N S ,
THESE PROCESSES SEEN AS NEITHER PLEASANT NOR R E L I A B L E . EXPERIENCE OF OUKKHA,

UNSATISFACTORINESS. THESE PROCESSES A R E SEEN TO ARISE ANO PASS AWAY A T ,
E V E R Y MOMENT OF CONTEMPLATION, EXPERIENCE OF ANlCCA, IMPERMANENCE.
THESE DUAL PROCESSES A R E SEEN AS OEVOIO OF S E L F . EXPERIENCE OF ANATTA, NOT-SELF
AWARENESS AND ITS OBJECTS A R E PERC6IVEO A T E V E R Y MOMENT
AS OlSTINCT ANO SEPARATE PROCESSES
MINDFULNESS
MINOFULNESS OP BOOY FUNCTION, PHYSICAL
SENSATIONS, MENTAL STATES, OR MINO OBJECTS
B A R E INSIGHT
ACCESS CONCENTRATION r
PREVIOUS ATTAINMENT OP ACCESS ACHIEVEMENT OP A B I L I T Y TO NOTICE A L L PHENOMENA
CONCENTRATION ON PATH OF OF MIND TO POINT WHERE INTERFERING'THOUGHTS
CONCENTRATION DO NOT SERIOUSLY DISTURB PRACTICE
Figure 17-4. Higher states of consciousness o a the Buddhist Path of

Insight.
Buddhist orderings should consult Daniel Goleman's chapter in
Transpersonal Psychologies [128].
T h e third ordering (Figure 17-5) is J o h n Lilly's conceptuali-
zation of the system taught by Oscar Icazo in Arica, Chile. More
background is available in the chapter by J o h n Lilly and Joseph
Harts in Transpersonal Psychologies [128], as well as in Lilly's
Center of the Cyclone [35].
In the Arica ordering the value dimension is one of freedom
and of which psychic center dominates consciousness. T h e
numerical designation of each state indicates the n u m b e r of
cosmic laws supposedly governing that state, as expounded by
Gurdjieff (see Kathy Riordan's chapter on Gurdjieff in Trans-
personal Psychologies [128] and Ouspensky [48], with a plus sign
indicating positive valuation of that state. For example, in the + 3
state only three laws govern; a person is less free in the + 6 state,
where six laws govern. A minus sign indicates negative emotions.
T h u s the ordinary d-SoC, the —24 state, is a neurotic one of pain,
guilt, fear, a n d other negative emotions. T h e —24 state is also
under 96 laws, making it less free, as the n u m b e r of governing
laws doubles at each lower level.
Lilly notes that this ordering of highness does not hold for
all possible tasks in this scheme. T h e + 1 2 state and higher, for
instance, involve a progressive loss of contact with external
reality and so become lower states if one has to perform some
external task like driving a car or eating.
Now, is the + 2 4 state higher or lower than the sixth jhanaf Is
the state of realization on the Path of Insight higher or lower
than the + 3 state? Which state in these three orderings is best
for coping with the world food shortage? For understanding an
artist's message? For dying?
Arguing a particular answer to any one of these or similar
questions involves first fully understanding the system that de-
fines one state, and then fully understanding the system that
defines the other state. W e must grasp the many implicit assump-
tions that underlie the world-view of each system. If we d o not,
we waste our time using common words that carry dissimilar
implicit assumptions. W h e n we understand the world-views
behind these systems, we still must examine how well each system
orders the experience/realities of its own practitioners and how
well it orders and explains experiences by nonpractitioners.
What, then, is a higher state of consciousness? It is something
39
+3
C L A S S I C A L S A T O R I . F U S I O N WITH U N I V E R S A L Ml NO. UNION IVITH GOD. B E I N G ONE
OF T H E C R E A T O R S OF E N E R G Y FROM T H E V O I D FUNCTIONING IN T H E MA'H
SPIRITUAL CENTER ABOVE THE HEAD
B E I N G A POINT-SOURCE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. E N E R G Y . L I G H T . AND L O V E . A S T R A L T R A V E L

AND O T H E R PSI PHENOMENA. FUSION WITH O T H E R E N T I T I E S IN T I M E
FUNCTIONING IN T H E P A T H M E N T A L C E N T E R IN T H E H E A D .
+ 12
B L I S S F U L L . C H R I S T - A T T U N E D S T A T E . R E C E P T I O N O F B A R A K A I O I V I N E G R A C E ) . COSMIC
L O V E . COSMIC E N E R G Y . H E I G H T E N E D B O D I L Y A W A R E N E S S . H I G H E S T FUNCTION OF
B O D I L Y AND P L A N E T S I O E CONSCIOUSNESS. B E I N G IN L O V E . B E I N G IN A
P O S I T I V E L S D E N E R G Y S T A T E FUNCTIONING IN T H E O T H
E M O T I O N A L C E N T E R IN T H E C H E S T
+ 24
P R O F E S S I O N A L S A T O R I OR B A S I C S A T O R I . A L L T H E N E E D E D P R O G R A M S A R E IN T H E
UNCONSCIOUS O F T H E B I O C O M P U T E R . O P E R A T I N G S M O O T H L Y . T H E S E L F
IS L O S T IN P L E A S U R A B L E A C T I V I T I E S T H A T ONE KNOWS B E S T
AND L I K E S T O DO FUNCTIONING IN T H E K A T H MOVING
C E N T E R IN T H E L O W E R B E L L Y
±48
T H E N E U T R A L BIOCOMPUTER S T A T E A B S O R P T I O N AND TRANSMISSIOMOF NEW I D E A S .
R E C E P T I O N AND TRANSMISSION OF NEW D A T A AND NEW P R O G R A M S DOING.
T E A C H I N G . AND L E A R N I N G WITH MAXIMUM F A C I L I T Y . E M O T I O N A L L Y
N E U T R A L ON T H E E A R T H . E X C E L L E N T R E A L I T Y C O N T A C T
Figure 17-5. Higher states of consciousness in the Arica system. Some

still lower states are not shown.
2<F0 Higher States of Consciousness 249
many of us long for; it is something some of us have p u t into our
value ordering systems; it is a reality that exists under various
sets of circumstances. But it is not something we can handle well
scientifically, at least not at this stage of our knowledge. But we
can begin by making our system of valuing states explicit.
Section II: Speculation
i8.
As Above, So Below:
Five Basic Principles Underlying Physics
JKHKH>0<HKHJ<HKHKHKH>J>1KHK^
I consider the material in this chapter speculative and thus

appropriate for introducing this section on speculation about
consciousness. T h e ideas presented are not basic to the applica-
tions of the systems approach to the investigation of states of
consciousness but are extensions of the approach that intrigue
me. They are speculative also in that I am by no means a
physicist and do not really understand mathematics, the lan-
guage in which so much of physics is expressed. I intend this
chapter primarily as a stimulus to prompt both physicists and
psychologists to think further about some of the ideas expressed
here. 1
Most psychologists accept the idea that reality is ultimately
material, composed basically of matter and energy operating
within the physical framework of space and time. This is a useful
set of intellectual constructs for dealing with experiences, but
l In the spring of 1973, my colleagues at the Institute for the Study of

Human Consciousness and I heard an exceptionally lucid presentation by
Dean Brown, Stanford Research Institute, of the basic principles of physics,
general principles that seem to emerge repeatedly in all areas of physics and
that may represent fundamental principles underlying the universe. Brown
suggested that these same principles may have parallels in the study
of the mind, although he did not expound on this idea. The suggestion took
firm root in my mind and has resulted in this chapter. I am also indebted to
Andrew Dienes for helping me to understand and express some of the physics
ideas in this chapter.
2 <244 States of Consciousness
most psychologists think of it as an understanding of reality
rather than a philosophy. Psychologists who implicitly or explic-
itly accept this position (which means most psychologists) thus
in effect define psychology as a derivative science, one dealing
with phenomena much removed from the ultimate bases of real-
ity. A corollary is that to be really "scientific" (to be fashionable
in terms of the prevailing physicalistic philosophy), psychology
must ultimately reduce psychological data to physical data.
Figure 18-1 depicts the world-view of philosophical physi-
calism. T h e ultimate structures or components of reality (top)
are subatomic particles. W h e n I was a high school student, only a
few such particles were known and many scientists thought that
electrons, protons, and neutrons were the basics whose arrange-
ment in patterns accounted for the way the world was. Now
literally hundreds of subatomic particles have been "discovered."
T h e word is enclosed in quotation marks because, of course, n o
one has actually ever seen a subatomic particle. They are as-
sumed to exist because their presence enables sensible interpreta-
tion of various kinds of instrumental readings. T h u s modern
physicists picture the universe as composed of hundreds of sub-
atomic particles being influenced by three basic types of forces:
(1) the nuclear binding forces, which operate only at the ex-
tremely tiny distances inside atomic nuclei; (2) the so-called
weak forces, which determine particle interaction at extremely
close distances; and (3) electromagnetic forces. These forces act
on the subatomic particles within a matrix of space and time,
which is still largely taken for granted as simply being "space"
and "time." Physics, then, is the study of this most basic level of
reality.
From this most basic level this world-view builds toward life
and consciousness. From subatomic particles, it moves to atoms,
primarily influenced by electromagnetic forces and studied by
physics and chemistry. From atoms it moves to molecules, pri-
marily governed by chemical forces (which are electromagnetic
forces) and studied most appropriately by chemistry. Next come
large molecules, which to some extent are self-sustaining, hold
their molecular configuration in spite of fairly large changes in
their environment. Some of these cross the mysterious dividing
line into the simplest forms of life, complex molecular assemblies
capable of sustaining themselves and reproducing themselves in
spite of environmental changes. Chemical, electromagnetic, and
Five Basic Principles Underlying Physics and Psychology 245
SCIENCES STRUCTURES FORCES
Figure 18-1. Levels of reality according to the physicalistic world-

view.
2<254 States of Consciousness
now gravitational forces affect things at this level, and chemistry
and biology are the sciences for studying them.
Next comes the evolutionary chain of increasingly complex
organisms, which soon develop specialized nervous systems, which
themselves increase greatly in complexity. Chemical, electromag-
netic, and gravitational forces are active here, and chemistry,
biology, and physiology are the important sciences for studying
them.
T h e h u m a n brain is considered the epitome of development of
nervous systems. I suspect that this is an unduly egocentric view,
for animals such as dolphins and whales certainly have larger
brains than man. But, perhaps because they do not build
weapons to attack each other or us, practically no one seriously
considers the idea that they may be as intelligent as we—the
notable exception is J o h n Lilly [34]. T h e h u m a n brain is also
affected by chemical, electromagnetic, and gravitational forces.
Physiology and probably information theory are appropriate
sciences for dealing with the h u m a n brain.
Finally, there is consciousness, thought of as a by-product or
property of the h u m a n brain, and psychology is the science for
studying it. T h e forces affecting consciousness are not shown
because, in terms of the physicalistic philosophy, social or psycho-
logical forces are derivative, not the "real" forces that actually
control the universe.
T h i s is the conservative or orthodox view of the mind discussed
briefly at the beginning of this book. It does not really explain
what consciousness is, but, citing good evidence that physically
affecting the brain alters consciousness, asks n o further questions
and simply believes that consciousness itself is a product of brain
functioning. T h e consequence of this view is that for an ultimate
explanation of consciousness, the phenomena of consciousness
must b e reduced to those of brain functioning; brain functioning
must b e reduced to basic properties of nervous systems, which
must b e reduced to basic properties of live molecules, which in
turn must be reduced to properties of molecules per se, which
must be reduced to properties of atoms, which must finally be
reduced to properties of subatomic particles.
In practice, of course, this would be extremely tedious. Certain
relatively simple phenomena can be reduced one or two levels,
b u t if I want to predict what you are next going to do, the
a m o u n t of information I must deal with, starting with the
knowledge of subatomic particles and various forces a n d build-
ing all the way u p to consciousness, is simply impossible to
handle.
T h e r e is n o d o u b t that reductionism to more basic physical
levels has been extremely useful in the physical sciences; and, to
a certain extent, reductionism to simpler psychological events has
been useful in psychology. Finding the physiological bases of
psychological events or perhaps more accurately, the physiologi-
cal parallels or interactions with psychological events, has also
been useful. But, by and large, the attempt to reduce psychologi-
cal events to physiological events is neither the only nor the best
activity for psychology.
I n the radical view of the mind, discussed earlier, a person's
belief about the nature of reality may actually alter the reality,
not just his interpretation of it. A f u n d a m e n t a l part of the
radical view is that basic awareness may have an independently
real status itself, rather than being just a derivative of physical
processes.
Figure 18-2 shows the scheme I propose for understanding
h u m a n consciousness. H u m a n consciousness is shown as the re-
sult of the interaction of six dimensions, each one just as real in
some ultimate sense as any of the others. T h e dimensions are
matter, energy, space, time, awareness, and an u n k n o w n factor
that may be life itself. Science, guided by a physicalistic, reduc-
tionistic philosophy, investigates finer and finer levels of the
matter and energy dimensions, within a certain space-time
framework; b u t these dimensions constitute only two of the six or
more dimensions that must be examined for full understanding
of h u m a n consciousness.
I have added space and time as two independent dimensions
more on intuition than on a basis I can cogently argue. W e tend
to assume that space is some u n i f o r m thing that is just there and
that time is some u n i f o r m thing that is just passing. But experi-
ences in d-ASCs (see discussion of the S p a c e / T i m e subsystem, in
Chapter 8) indicate that there may b e other kinds of spaces and
other kinds of times. I predict that some day our procedure of
simply taking space and time for granted as unitary phenomena
will seem quite crude.
In the systems approach, awareness is given a real and separate
status. Recall the distinction between awareness and conscious-
ness. Awareness is that basic, obviously there b u t hard-to-define
Figure 18-2. T h e underlying, interacting dimensions from which

human consciousness arises.
property that makes us cognizant of things; consciousness is

awareness as it is modified by a n d embedded in the structure of
the mind. Consciousness is awareness transformed by the brain-
body machine so that awareness loses some of its own innate
properties, gains certain properties from the structure (probably
largely brain structure) it merges with (or arises from in the
conservative view), a n d leads to certain gestalt properties that
cannot be predicted from a knowledge of either. T h e unknown
factor dimension is added to remind us of our ignorance a n d
because I feel intuitively that symmetry is called for in this
diagram.
T h e first phrase of this chapter's title, "As Above, So Below,"
expresses my hypothesis that there is a u n i f o r m set of basic laws
r u n n i n g the universe. I speculate that whatever f u n d a m e n t a l
principles or laws r u n the universe manifest themselves similarly
in one area we call psychology and in another we call physics.
T h e idea can be extended to other areas also, but I am not
expert enough to do so. T h u s the laws of physics, as we currently
understand them, are manifestations (of an u n k n o w n degree of
directness) of the basic principles r u n n i n g the universe; laws and
principles affecting consciousness are manifestations (of a n un-
known degree of directness) of these same principles. Neither
manifestation may be any more basic than the other. If this
hypothesis is correct, parallels to the five basic principles that
seem to underlie physics should be clearly discernible in the
psychological area.
First Principle: Duality
Physics distinguishes between a p u r e energy state and a matter

state, with both energy a n d matter operating within the frame-
work of space and time. A convenient abbreviation for this qua-
ternity is M E S T (matter, energy, space, time). T h e first principle
is that whenever pure energy is converted into matter, it generally
(universally?) creates a pair of particles whose properties are, in
some important way, opposite. An electron a n d a positron may be
created, for example, with opposite electrical charges, or a pair of
particles may be created that spin in opposite directions. Con-
versely, the proper interaction of a pair of such opposite particles
results in their annihilation as particles a n d their transformation
back into p u r e energy. T h u s the transformation of energy into
matter is generally done in a dualistic manner. T h e principle
seems so general that whenever a new particle is discovered, its
exact opposite is looked for as a matter of course.
Assuming that a resulting duality in a transition f r o m an
energy state to a matter state is a general universal principle, a
parallel manifestation at the psychological level is seen in a
phenomenon encountered in some d-ASCs, the mystical experi-
ence of unity. T h i s is a direct experience of a condition of
consciousness in which all duality is transcended. I n contrast to
ordinary existence in a world dominated by opposites, there is
no u p and down, good and evil, creator a n d created, I and thou;
everything is oneness. O u r language, of course, cannot express
this experience adequately. T h e experience of what may have
been consciousness of the Void (Chapter 14) in William's ultra-
deep hypnotic state may be an example of this kind. In Buddhist
literature, the highest kind of samadhi, reached by successive
refinements of concentration, is described as a state in which
there is neither perception nor nonperception [20]. T h i s state of
consciousness seems analogous to the condition of pure, undiffer-
entiated energy.
But we do not live in such a state of consciousness. Few people
ever attain it, and even to them it is a transient experience,
though of supreme importance. All the spiritual systems [128]
that have this realization of a transcendence of duality as an
experiential basis teach that in the ordinary d-SoC (and in many
d-ASCs) duality is a basic principle governing the manifestation
of consciousness. T h u s pleasure cannot exist without pain, hope
cannot exist without despair, courage cannot exist without fear,
u p cannot exist without down. T h e state of mystical unity, of
Void consciousness, seems to be the experience of pure awareness,
transcending all opposites, like the pure energy state, while con-
sciousness, the condition of awareness deeply intermeshed with
and modified by the structures of the m i n d and brain, is a realm
of duality, the analog of the matter state. T h i s seems to be a
manifestation of the principle of duality in the psychological
realm.
It is a n exotic example, as most of us lack a n experiential basis
for understanding it. W h e n we deal with h u m a n consciousness
we do not deal with undifferentiated energy manifesting as two
opposite particles, the simple, primary phenomena with which
physics deals, b u t with complex, interacting systems made u p of
untold numbers of more elementary systems constituting the
structures of the mind a n d brain, activated by awareness and
energies to constitute a state of consciousness. T h i s hypercomplex
construction, consciousness (as opposed to p u r e awareness), is
the experiential area with which we are most familiar. As we shall
see in considering the other basic principles, the fact that our ordi-
nary psychological experience is almost always with the complex,
ongoing structure of h u m a n consciousness makes it difficult to see
how these basic principles, derived for ideally simplified situa-
tions, can be applied precisely.
Second Principle: Quantum Law, the Law of Discreteness
T h e q u a n t u m principle in physics states that because of the

n a t u r e of certain physical systems, most obviously that of the
atom, certain transitions from one energy configuration to an-
other can occur only in a complete, all-or-none j u m p . I n an
atom, for example, an electron can be in one or another precise
energy state, b u t cannot occupy an energy level intermediate
between these two. It must go from one to the other, given the
requisite energy to bring this about, in a n all-or-none fashion.
T h u s there is one state, a forbidden zone, a n d then a second
state. T h e r e may be a third state, a fourth state, and so on, b u t
the transition is always all-or-none. W h e n dealing with macro-
scopic objects or systems that are made u p of large numbers of
the more elementary components governed by q u a n t u m laws, the
aggregate, the macroscopic system, may seem to show continuity
over wide ranges of intermediate values, but this is a statistical
illusion from a gross level of observation. For example, an aggre-
gate made u p of units, many of which are in a q u a n t u m state
that we can call two, and many of which are in a q u a n t u m state
that we can call three, can have an average value anywhere
between two and three, depending on the relative distribution of
the q u a n t u m units.
I see the q u a n t u m principle, as stated in physics, as a particu-
lar manifestation of a more general principle that various com-
ponents of the universe have a "shape" or "structure" or "energy
configuration." O n a familiar, macroscopic level, for example,
water can be in three distinct states, a solid (ice), a liquid
(ordinary water), or a gas (steam). T h e r e can be mechanical
mixtures of the three states, as of water droplets falling or float-
ing in the air, but the solid, liquid, and gas states are quite
distinct.
T h e application to consciousness of this general principle, that
various components of reality have properties that therefore de-
termine the way they can interact with other units, is outlined in
Chapter 2. T o recapitulate briefly, a d-SoC is a system or a
pattern or an overall configuration of many psychological subsys-
tems or structures. Each subsystem shows variations within itself
within certain limits, b u t maintains its overall identity as a
subsystem. Since identity means properties, this limits the num-
ber of possible ways a stable system can be built u p from the
subsystems and thus limits the n u m b e r of d-SoCs possible for a
h u m a n being.
T h e induction of a d-ASC involves the application of disrupt-
ing forces to the b-SoC to push one or more subsystems beyond
their stable limits a n d / o r to disrupt the feedback loops between
subsystems that stabilize the b-SoC. W h e n enough feedback loops
have been disrupted a n d / o r enough subsystems pushed beyond
their stable, ordinary ranges of functioning, the overall organiza-
tion of the b-SoC breaks down, and a transitional period of
varying duration occurs, with the subsystems having only tran-
sient, unstable relationships to each other. T h e n , with the appli-
cation of appropriate patterning forces, the subsystems are
reassembled in a new configuration that is stable and that we call
the d-ASC.
T h i s process constitutes a kind of q u a n t u m j u m p , albeit not
the neat q u a n t u m j u m p of an electron from one discrete energy
state to another in an atom. W e are dealing with highly compos-
ite, complex structures, and even when such structures are made
u p of units that operate on q u a n t u m principles, the aggregate
may show various degrees of continuity. Recall the earlier discus-
sion of individual differences. For certain individuals, the transi-
tion from a b-SoC to a d-ASC definitely shows a q u a n t u m j u m p ,
with no consciousness d u r i n g the transition period. T h e system
properties of the d-ASC are q u i t e different f r o m those of the b-
SoC.
T h e q u a n t u m j u m p from one d-SoC to a d-ASC may be a leap
along what we can conceive of as a continuum or it may be the
emergence of a totally new function or pattern of functioning.
T h e d-ASCs of which we now have some scientific knowledge
occur in h u m a n beings who have been thoroughly conditioned
by enculturation processes, so the q u a n t u m j u m p s we have seen
in investigating various d-ASCs may largely represent the results
of semiarbitrary cultural conditioning. T h a t is, in a particular
culture you might have to be either straight or stoned, b u t in
another culture you may be able to be a little of each simultane-
ously. However, we can postulate as a general principle that the
various subsystems and structures that make u p the h u m a n mind
cannot be put together in just any arbitrary way: each structure
has properties of its own that restrict its possible interaction with
other structures into a larger structure or system. Insofar as we
can learn to study the m i n d beyond the semiarbitrary cultural
conditionings of consciousness, the study of d-ASCs may eventu-
ally tell us something about the f u n d a m e n t a l properties of the
h u m a n m i n d and the way in which the overall system of con-
sciousness can thus be structured, what its basic states and for-
bidden zones are.
Third Principle: Relativity
In nonmathematical terms the relativity principle in physics is

that there is n o such thing as a neutral observer. Rather, any
observer exists within a particular M E S T framework, and this
framework affects his observations.
T h i s is more p r o f o u n d than saying that an observer's sense
organs affect his observations. W e realize, for example, that we
do not naturally know how the world looks in the ultraviolet
spectrum of light, but we can build instruments to make a
translation for us. W h a t is here being said is that the observer is
an inherent part of the M E S T framework, and this gives the
observer himself characteristics, over and above what can be
compensated for by special instruments, which affect his observa-
tions of things outside himself.
T h e principle of relativity applies in a variety of ways in
psychological work, even though most psychologists have not
seriously accepted it. Indeed, it applies to you and me in our
everyday lives, even though we do not always accept it. At one
level, each h u m a n being, functioning in his ordinary d-SoC (or
in a d-ASC), shows selective perception, selective thinking, selec-
tive action that in turn controls his perceptions. Because of his
particular culture and the consensus reality to which his ordinary
d-SoC has adapted him, plus his personal idiosyncrasies, he (1) is
more prone to observe certain things; (2) is unlikely to observe
other kinds of things at all; and (3) may have a great many
transformations a n d distortions of what he does sense before it
reaches his consciousness. T h i s all happens unconsciously, auto-
matically, a n d smoothly in the normally functioning adult. For
example, the Christian missionary of the 1800s "saw" sin in the
form of public display of "lust" in a native village, when the
natives would have said they were only giving polite approval to
the dancers.
T h i s kind of relativity is becoming recognized in psychology
under the topics of experimenter bias and the implicit demand
characteristics of experiments. An experimenter's desire to prove
the hypothesis he believes in not only can influence how he
perceives his data, b u t also can subtly influence his subjects to
2<254 States of Consciousness
cooperate in ways that will erroneously "prove" his hypothesis.
Your beliefs about the nature of things a r o u n d you can influence
the way you see things and subtly influence others to uphold your
view of reality.
In addition to this culturally and individually conditioned
relativity, the fact that each person is h u m a n and therefore born
with certain basic properties in his nervous system, sensory re-
ceptors, and perhaps in the nature of the awareness that enters
into or comes from the operation of his nervous system, equips
him with built-in biases for seeing the universe in certain kinds
of ways and not other ways. T h i s applies not only to the external
universe perceived through his senses or with instrumental aids,
b u t to his observations of his own internal experiences.
It is amazing how little recognized this idea is. T h e old con-
cept of the "neutral observer," common in nineteenth century
physics b u t now long abandoned by physicists, is alive and well
within the ranks of psychologists, implicitly guiding almost all
experiments. A wiser course is always to assume that an observer
or experimenter has biases and selectivities in the way he per-
ceives, evaluates, and acts, even when these are not obvious.
D-ASCs are of particular interest here. T h e ordinary cl-SoC is a
complex system incorporating various selectivities for perceiving
the outside world and o u r own internal experiences, and func-
tioning as a tool for coping with our external a n d internal
worlds. Transiting to a d-ASC constitutes a qualitative as well as
a quantitative restructuring of the system, which may be looked
at as a new set of filters, biases, and tools for the observer/theo-
rizer. By observing both the external and internal worlds from a
variety of d-SoCs, rather than only one, we can develop a n u m b e r
of state-specific sciences within various d-ASCs. T h i s enables a
complementary series of views of the external and internal uni-
verses, which may partially compensate for the limits of the view
found in any one d-SoC. I emphasize partially compensate, be-
cause no matter how many different d-SoCs we observe from, we
are still human, a n d that probably implies ultimate limits on
what we can do. W e have not begun to approach these ultimate
limits.
Note again that the idea that we must obtain complementary
(I use this term in the sense it is used in physics) views of the
universe from various d-SoCs, in order to get as full a view of it
as possible, collides with an implicit and pervasive assumption
that the ordinary d-SoC is the optimal, most logical state of
consciousness and thus the one in which ultimate understandings
will occur. T h i s powerful and implicit bias, a product of encul-
turation, seriously hinders our thinking. W e should always be
open to the possibility that there is some "higher" d-SoC of which
all other d-SoCs can be seen as fully comprehensible subsets:
perhaps this is what enlightenment means in some ultimate
sense. T h e ordinary d-SoC, with all its culturally conditioned
limitations, is an unlikely candidate for this high degree.
T h e last two basic principles of physics do not have obvious

parallels in known psychological functioning because the com-
plexity of the h u m a n mind precludes such simple analogies. It is
interesting, however, to consider them a n d assume that they
ought to be manifest in the psychological realm if they are true.
In this way, we can alert ourselves to look for parallels.
Fourth Principle: Conservation
T h e basic expression of the principle of conservation in physics

is that in any reaction n o t h i n g is lost. T h e sum total of what goes
in is the sum total of what goes out, even if there are transforma-
tions in form. T h i s was originally thought of as the conservation
of mass: the a m o u n t of matter that went into a chemical reaction
was exactly equal to the a m o u n t of matter that came out of it.
Because of various theoretical prospective changes, as well as the
development of extremely precise measurement techniques, this
definition was seen to be too simple and the principle was re-
phrased in terms of the conservation of the sum of mass and
energy. T h u s mass can be traded for energy, for example, but the
sum is still the same. Modifications of the exact quantities are
p u t into this equivalence equation in various physical situations,
but the basic principle that what goes in equals what comes out
holds generally through physics.
I do not see the obvious application of this to conscious experi-
ences that we know of, because we almost never have simple,
straightforward actions of consciousness that allow this kind of
input-output comparison. Even apparently simple psychological
reactions may consist of many separate steps that are perceived
dimly or not at all due to automatization [14]. Also, experience
at almost all times involves several things going on in rapid
succession or even apparently simultaneously, and we know that
important unconscious reactions can occur simultaneously with
conscious ones. T h u s we may have conscious experiences that
seem to deplete or use u p psychological energy or create psycho-
logical experience (the equivalent of mass?), a n d other kinds of
experiences that seem to increase energy, but we d o not know
how to assess or measure these in a clear enough way to begin to
measure what goes in and what goes out a n d see whether they are
equivalent. W e may be able to develop indirect indicators of
unconscious reactions or make unconscious reactions more con-
scious by means of therapeutic or self-observational techniques.
Fifth Principle: Law of Least Action
T h e physical expression of this principle is that nature is

economical: when a process can occur in several alternate ways,
the one requiring the least expenditure of energy is the one used.
Apparent exceptions generally turn out to conform to the prin-
ciple and to have seemed exceptional because they were viewed
in isolation: when considered as part of a larger system, the
principle of least action is, in fact, followed.
An initial glance at psychological experience seems to show
many contradictions to this. We do all sorts of things every day
in ways that, even to our own perception, are certainly not the
most economical ways. A n observer may detect even more wasted
energy. Suppose I carry a book from here into the next room. If I
observe the action carefully, I will probably find that I have not
used my body in a way that requires a minimal expenditure of
energy to move the book from here to there. T h e complicating
factor in trying to apply the fifth principle to psychology is the
h u m a n propensity for doing several things simultaneously, many
of them not in consciousness or even available to consciousness.
So while carrying the book from this room to the next I may also
be thinking about what to write in this chapter and using "body
English" as part of my thinking process. I may also be semicon-
sciously trying to improve my posture, semiconsciously trying not
to waste bodily energy, and perhaps unconsciously rebelling
against the need to try a n d improve myself so much of the time,
a n d so deliberately wasting some energy, either bodily or psycho-
logical energy, in order to express my "freedom."
A claim made in many spiritual writings, supported by some
experiential data f r o m various d-ASCs, is that, with effort, we can

become more and more conscious of exactly what we are doing.
Whether we can become conscious of everything we are doing
psychologically at a given moment is unknown. T h u s it is un-
clear whether we can ever be in a position adequately to assess
whether the law of least action applies to psychological phenom-
ena. But it may be profitable to postulate that the fifth principle
does apply and then proceed to look for manifestations.
In the history of science it has often been f r u i t f u l to postulate

some principle as true before there is good evidence for it, a n d
then to examine the subject matter of the particular science with
the postulate in mind. It may be profitable to follow this plan for
the fourth a n d fifth principles. They may be true; if they are not,
the need to develop more precise ways of measuring many psy-
chological phenomena simultaneously in order to test the truth
of the principles will be a major advance in itself.
As above, so below?
Ordinary Consciousness as
a State of Illusion
<KKHKKKHKHKKKHKHKHKHKHKK}^^
A belief common to almost all spiritual disciplines is that the

human being is ordinarily in a state of consciousness described by
such words as illusion, waking dreaming, waking hypnosis, igno-
rance, maya (Indian), or samsara (Buddhist). T h e realization of
this unsatisfactory nature of one's ordinary d-SoC serves as the
impetus for purifying it a n d / o r attaining d-ASCs that are con-
sidered clearer and more valuable. This chapter considers the na-
ture of samsara 1 (illusion) from the viewpoint of a Western psy-
chologist. This interpretation does not represent a full under-
standing of the concept of samsara or related concepts, but is
simply a way of expressing it that should be useful to other West-
erners. This understanding flows partly from the systems ap-
proach developed in previous chapters.
Consciousness, as we ordinarily know it in the West, is not
pure awareness but rather awareness as it is embodied in the
psychological structure of the mind or the brain. Ordinary ex-
perience is of neither pure awareness nor pure psychological
structure, but of awareness embedded in and modified by the
structure of the mind/brain, and of the structure of the m i n d /
11 use the Buddhist term samsara in a general sense to indicate a d-SoC
(ordinary or nonordinary) dominated by illusion, as detailed throughout this
chapter, rather than in a technically strict Buddhist sense. I express my appre-
ciation to Tarthong Tulku, Rinpoche, for helping me understand the Bud-
dhist view.
Ordinary Consciousness as a State of Illusion 259
brain embedded in a n d modified by awareness. These two com-
ponents, awareness and psychological structure, constitute a
gestalt, an overall interacting, dynamic system that makes u p
consciousness.
T o most orthodox Western psychologists, awareness is a by-
product of the brain. T h i s primarily reflects a commitment to
certain physicalistic concepts rather than any real understanding
of what awareness is. In most spiritual disciplines, awareness is
considered to exist, or have potential to exist, independently of
brain structure [128].
Let us now take a Western, psychological look at how ordinary
consciousness can be a state of illusion, samsara. Figure 19-1
represents the psychological processes of a person we shall call Sam
at six succeeding instants of time, labeled T , through T„. T h e ver-
tical axis represents stimuli from the external world received in
the six succeeding instants of time; the horizontal axis represents
internal, psychological processes occurring through these six suc-
ceeding instants of time. T h e ovals represent the main psycho-
logical contents that are in the focus of consciousness, what Sam
is mainly conscious of, where almost all the attention/awareness
(energy) is. T h e arrows represent information flow; labels along
the arrows indicate the n a t u r e of that information flow. T h e small
circles containing the letter A represent internal psychological
associations provoked by the external stimuli or by other internal
associations: they are structures, the machinery of the mind.
Figure 19-1 is a flow diagram of what happens in Sam's mind,
how information comes in to him and how this information is re-
acted to. Some of the effects are deliberately exaggerated to make
points, so Sam appears psychotic in a rather paranoid way. As is
discussed later, this example is not really so very different from
o u r own ordinary consciousness.
In terms of the external world, a stranger walks u p to Sam and
says, "Hi, my name is Bill." For simplicity, we assume that this is
all that happens of consequence in the external world, even
though in everyday life such a message is usually accompanied by
other messages expressed in gestures and bodily postures, modified
by the setting in which they occur, etc. But the defined reality
here is that the stranger says, "Hi, my name is Bill." T h i s utter-
ance occupies the first five sequential units of time.
At time T j the oval contains the label Primary Meaning,
indicating that the focus of conscious awareness is the word Hi.
Figure 19-1. Development of samsaric consciousness.

Although this is shown as a simple perception, it is not a simple
act. T h e word Hi would be a meaningless pattern of sounds
except for the fact that Sam has already learned to understand the
English language and thus perceives not only the sound qualities
of the word Hi, but also its agreed-upon meaning. Already we are
dealing not only with awareness per se, but with relatively per-
manent psychological structures that automatically give conven-
tional meaning to language. Sam is an enculturated person.
T h e straightforward perception of the meaning of this word in
its agreed-upon form is an instance of clear or relatively enlight-
ened consciousness within the given consensus reality. Someone
says Hi to you a n d you understand that this is a greeting synony-
mous with words like hello and greetings.
W e can hypothesize that a relatively clear state of mind in the
period T j through T 5 consists of the following. At each instant
in time, the stimulus word being received is clearly perceived in
the primary focus of consciousness with its agreed-upon meaning,
a n d there is a sufficient memory continuity across these instants
of time to understand the sequence. Information from each pre-
vious moment of consciousness is passed clearly on to the next, so
that the meaning of the overall sequence of words is understood.
For example, at time T 2 not only is the word my perceived
clearly but the word Hi has been passed on internally from time
T j as a memory, so Sam perceives that the sequence is Hi, my.
Similarly by time T5, there is primary perception of the
agreed-upon meaning of the word Bill, coupled with a clear
memory of Hi, my name is from the preceding four instants of
time. T h i s simple message of the speaker is thus perceived for
exactly what it is.
Figure 19-1, however, shows a much more complex process
than this clear perception of primary stimulus information. My
own psychological observations have convinced me that this more
complex process takes place all the time, and the straightforward,
relatively clear perception described above is a rarity, especially
for any prolonged period of time. So, let us look at this diagram
of samsara in detail.
Again, we start with the primary meaning reception of the
word Hi at time T x . At time T 2 , however, not only is there a
primary, undistorted reception of the word my, b u t internally an
association has taken place to the word Hi. T h i s association is
that PRICES A R E H I G H . T h i s is deliberately an illogical (by
consensus reality standards) association, based on the sound of
the word and involving some departure from the primary mean-
ing of the word Hi used as a greeting. In spite of our culture's
veneration of logic, most of our psychological processes are not
logical.
(Ignore the label D E R O P P ' S " W A T C H M A N A T T H E
G A T E " E N T E R S H E R E for the time being.)
T h e association PRICES A R E H I G H is not obviously patho-
logical or nonadaptive at this point. Since prices on so many
commodities have risen greatly, it is a likely association to hear-
ing the word Hi, even though it does not strictly follow from the
context of the actual stimulus situation. T h e pathology begins,
the mechanism of samsara begins operating, in the fact that this
association is not made in the full focus of consciousness but on
the fringes of or even outside consciousness. Most a t t e n t i o n /
awareness energy is focused on the perception of my and the
memory of Hi, so they are perceived clearly, but some a t t e n t i o n /
awareness energy, too little for clear consciousness, started "leak-
ing" at T t a n d activated an association structure. T h e primary
focus of consciousness at time T 2 is on the stimulus word my.
T h e association P R I C E S A R E H I G H , operating on the fringes
of consciousness, is shown as sending some informational content
or feeling about money in general into the primary focus of
consciousness at time T 2 , but it is secondary content, with too
little energy to be clear.
If associational activities decay or die out at this simple level,
the state of samsara will not occur. But psychological processes
that operate outside the clear focus of consciousness tend to get
out of hand, acting much the same as implicit assumptions in a
logic: as long as an assumption is implicit you are totally con-
trolled by it as it does not occur to you to question it.
Let us assume that the association P R I C E S A R E H I G H trig-
gers a f u r t h e r association d u r i n g time T 2 because of the word
H I G H , and this is an association of the sort I N E V E R G E T
H I G H . T h i s second association then connects u p at time T 3 with
emotionally charged concerns of Sam's, represented by the arrow
as P R E P O T E N T N E E D / D R I V E # 1 . Given the particular per
sonality and concerns of this person (he worries because he never
gets h i g h ) , this is a constant, dynamically meaningful preoccupa-
tion with him and carries much psychical energy. In colloquial
terms, Sam has had "one of his buttons pushed," even though
there was no "good" reason for it to be pushed. Uncontrolled
attention/awareness energy activated a structure to which other
psychological/emotional energy was connected. Now we begin to
deal not just with simple information but with information that
is emotionally important. In this particular example, this infor-
mation is activating and has a negative, depressed quality. At
time T 3 , when this prepotent need is activated, psychical energy
flows into the main focus of consciousness. Also, the activation of
this prepotent n e e d / d r i v e activates, by habit, a particular chain
of associations centered a r o u n d the idea that P E O P L E T A K E
A D V A N T A G E O F ME. T h i s kind of associational content also
begins to flow into the main focus of consciousness at time T 3 .
Now let us look closely at time T 3 in terms of the primary
focus of consciousness. I n terms of how we have defined relatively
clear functioning of this system of consciousness, the information
Hi, my should be and is being delivered f r o m the previous
moment of consciousness at time T 2 to provide continuity. How-
ever, the relatively irrelevant association of money and the price
of things, represented by the dollar sign, is also being delivered
as if it were primary meaning, coming from the preceding pri-
mary focus of consciousness, even though it actually represents
associational meaning that has slipped in. Because it was not
clearly perceived as an association in the first place, it gets mixed
u p with the primary perceptions as memory transfers it from T 2
to T 3 . A general activation energy of negative tone is flowing in
from the prepotent need that is active at this time as well as the
associational contents that P E O P L E T A K E A D V A N T A G E O F
ME. Because of the highly charged energy that goes with these
associational contents, the primary focus of consciousness at time
T 3 is labeled semidelusion; the primary focus of Sam's conscious-
ness now begins to center a r o u n d associational material while
under the mistaken impression that it is centering a r o u n d actual
information coming in from the world. By identification with this
associational material and the prepotent need activated, Sam be-
gins to live in his associations, in a kind of (day) dream rather
than in a clear perception of the world.
Psychologists are well aware of the phenomenon known as
perceptual defense, of the selectivity of perception, of the fact
that we more readily see what we want to see, tend not to see
what we d o not want to see, a n d / o r distort what we do perceive
into what we would like to perceive. W h a t we would "like to"
perceive may often seem unpleasant, yet it has secondary advan-
tages insofar as it is supportive of the ego structure.
T o indicate distortion of perception, a partial misperception
of the actual stimulus is shown (the word name at time T 3 ) in
that the a gets dropped out of name as it enters primary con-
sciousness. While much of the original stimulus gets through and
provides materials (in this case the other letters) for later proc-
essing, some of it drops out. T h i s process of filtering perceptions,
rejecting some things, distorting others, is a major characteristic
of samsara. W e tend to perceive selectively those elements of
situations that support o u r preexisting beliefs and feelings.
Having reached a state of semidelusion, we now see that in-
stead of the real information Hi, my name, a distorted mixture is
being transmitted, consisting of some of the actual information
that came in plus some of the associations and emotional energy
that have come via the associations. Some fragments of stimuli
coming in are being distorted to fit in with the beginnings of
delusion brought about by the prepotent need and associational
chains. T h u s the S quality of the dollar sign f becomes more an
S, and the Hi turns into a HIS, and the my then becomes
opposed to the HIS in a classic dichotomy. T h e letters m and e
from name now stand in isolation, affected by the emotional
charge of the dichotomy H I S and my, so it becomes HIS and ME.
Because of the intensity added by the flow of energy at time T 3 ,
all the components of stimuli may be arranged to spell the word
ENEMY, f u r t h e r reinforcing the HIS-my dichotomy. Elements of
the situation are automatically reworked by the Input-Processing
subsystem to fit the emerging theme of consciousness.
T h u s at time T 4 the primary focus of consciousness may be
considered fully delusional in the sense that the internal, charged
processes, the associational and emotional processes, distort per-
ception so greatly that we can truly speak of Sam as being
deluded or out of contact with the world. W e now not only have
selective perception in the sense of filtering and rejection, shown
as the fourth stimulus word is being totally rejected here, b u t we
now begin to get the psychological process known as projection,
where internal processes become so strong that they are projected
onto the environment and wrongly perceived as actual percep-
tions. Internal processes and memories are fed back into Input-
Processing and reemerge in awareness with the quality of percep-
tion added. In this case the feelings about the conflict between
HIS and my and about ENEMY and about P E O P L E T A K E
A D V A N T A G E O F M E now begin to be experienced as stimuli
coming in f r o m the environment, rather than as internal associa-
tions. Other associational chains dealing with D A N G E R are
triggered by this process, including one, discussed later, that
keeps out competing associations that do not fit in with the
delusional scheme.
By the time the stage of projection of delusions with the
negative content of ENEMY and P E O P L E T A K E ADVAN-
T A G E O F ME is reached, we tap into Sam's general energy
sources and get an overall activation. It is not only that he has
some specific need to think that people take advantage of him,
he has now become so convinced that someone is actually taking
advantage of him that he gets generally activated, generally up-
tight, in order to deal with this danger! T h i s general up-tightness
not only pours a great deal of energy into the specific focus of
consciousness, it also acts as positive feedback, reinforcing the
prepotent need to blame others for not getting high that started
the whole chain in the first place. T h e fact that Sam now clearly
feels himself getting up-tight as this general energy flows into h i m
acts as a justification for the need to worry about people taking
advantage of him in the first place, f u r t h e r reinforcing the whole
delusion. He would not feel so up-tight unless something were
wrong, would he?
T h u s by time T 8 , when the real stimulus is simply the name
Bill, Sam's primary conscious awareness is more a picture of a
dangerous warrior attacking, with the whole dichotomy of H I M
versus ME in the fore. T h i s is not a simple "cognitive" content,
but is charged with energy and emotion, as represented by the
spikes on his shield and helmet. Further rejection and distortion
of actual input occur to enhance the delusional system. T h i s is
shown as the B being rejected f r o m Bill and the internal processes
adding a K, so that Sam in a real sense hears this stranger say the
word KILL. T h i s again is projection of a delusion that is mis-
taken for actual sensory input.
T h e same D A N G E R associational chains-triggered off in time
T 4 continue to be triggered off. A pair of associational chains
that were separate are shown linked u p to represent a tendency
for the delusion to f u r t h e r draw together internal structures and
so consolidate itself.
Now at this point we would certainly be tempted to say that
Sam is a paranoid psychotic, so out of touch with reality that
he should be institutionalized (unless his particular culture
values that sort of thing and instead makes him president). But
this might not actually be true in social terms: there might be
such strong, built-in inhibitions in the structure of his mind
against expressing hostility, a n d / o r such strong conditionings to
act nicely, that Sam would make some sort of socially appropriate
response even though he was internally seething with fear and
anger and hatred.
At this point Sam is clearly in a state that can well be called
samsara or waking dream.
T h e fact that conditioned inhibitions may keep a person from
acting in a socially inappropriate way should remind us that this
process is not an exaggeration that has no application to you and
me. Some of o u r own processes may be just as distorted and
intense. Although processes have been intensified to a paranoid,
psychotic level in this illustration to make points clearer, my own
studies of psychological data, plus my own observation of myself,
have convinced me that this is the basic nature of much of o u r
ordinary consciousness.
T h e presentation of samsara so far has been oversimplified by
assuming there is only one prepotent need or drive that moti-
vates us. Most of us have many such drives. Let us add a second
drive to produce a state of conflict and f u r t h e r show the n a t u r e of
samsara. Suppose after the activation of the prepotent need to
blame others at time T s , these associations themselves activate
f u r t h e r associations to the effect Y O U ' R E B E I N G P A R A N O I D ,
and this in turn activates a need not to be paranoid. T h i s latter
need might arise f r o m a healthy understanding of oneself, or it
might arise from the same kind of mechanical, social condition-
ing that governs the rest of the process. W e need not consider the
source of this need at the moment, b u t can simply say that it
activates some f u r t h e r associations on the order of D O N ' T
T A K E P A R A N O I A SERIOUSLY, along with energy from the
second prepotent need.
Figure 19-1 shows these associations of not taking paranoia
seriously trying to affect the primary content of consciousness in
time T 4 , but, because Sam is already in a highly delusional
state and his consciousness is completely filled with highly ener-
getic paranoid associations, this conflicting associational message
cannot influence his consciousness. T h e particular route by
which it tries to enter is blocked by the associations triggered off
by the primary, delusional consciousness. T h e r e is no conscious
conflict. 2
T h e same association D O N ' T T A K E P A R A N O I A SERI
OUSLY continues to be put out at time T 5 and, by coming into
the focus of consciousness by a different route, actually gains
some awareness. T h e r e is now a conflict situation: Sam "knows"
that this very dangerous person may be threatening to kill him,
and another part of him is saying that he is being paranoid and
should not take this kind of paranoia seriously.
T i m e T 6 is shown as a question mark because we d o not know
what the resolution of this conflict will be. If the bulk of energy
and contents of consciousness are taken u p by the paranoid
delusion, the thought D O N ' T T A K E P A R A N O I A SERIOUSLY
may simply be wiped out or repressed for lack of energy to
compete with the delusion.
This, then, is a picture of samsara in six consecutive instants of
time. T h e process, of course, does not stop with six instants of
time; it continues through one's lifetime. T h e consensus reality
in which a person lives limits the reality that impinges on him:
the physical world is generally known; people generally act to-
ward h i m in " n o r m a l " ways. T h e internalization of consensus
reality he learned d u r i n g enculturation, his "normal" d-SoC,
matches the socially maintained consensus reality. So culturally
valued experiences continue to h a p p e n to him. T h i s is shown
schematically in Figure 19-2.
T h e horizontal axis represents the flow of time, bringing an
ever-changing succession of events, people, interactions, things.
T h e wheel rolling along the axis of time is you. T h e culturally
conditioned selectivity of your perceptions and logics and actions
is like a set of selective filters a r o u n d the periphery of the wheel.
If the right filter is activated (perceptual readiness) when a
corresponding event occurs, you perceive, experience, and react
to it in accordance with your ordinary d-SoC structure (which
includes your personality structure). If the current interplay of
your prepotent needs and associated structures does not produce
2 Note an implicit, quantitative assumption here that in the competition of

two processes, whichever has the greater energy (both attention/awareness
energy and other kinds of energies) wins, subject to modification by the
particulars of the structures involved. Certain structures may use energy more
effectively than others. This line of thought needs development.
T I M E - R E A L EVENTS w
Figure 19-2. T h e wheel of an individual's life rolling through con-

sensus reality.
a perceptual readiness to notice and respond to the way reality is

stimulating you at the moment, you may not perceive an event at
all, or perceive it in distorted form, as in the example of what
can happen to "Hi, my name is Bill." In terms of Figure 19-2,
you have the appropriate perceptual category built in, but the
dynamic configuration of your mind, the position of that cate-
gory on the wheel, is not right.
Some kinds of experiences are actively blocked by encultura-
tion, not simply passively neglected: these are represented by a
pair of bars between some categories within the wheel and the
rim of the wheel. You will not experience certain kinds of things,
even if they are happening, unless you are subjected to drastic
pressures, internal or external.
Similar structures inside the wheel are shown as intercon-
nected. Recall from the earlier discussion of loading and other
kinds of stabilization that attention/awareness energy is con-
stantly flowing back and forth, a r o u n d and around in familiar,
habitual paths. T h i s means that much of the variety and richness
of life is filtered out. An actual event, triggering off a certain
category of experience, activating a certain structure, is rapidly
lost as the internal processes connected with that structure and
its associated structures and prepotent needs take over the energy
of the system. T h u s , the word Hi triggers such processes in our
hypothetical person, Sam, as do similar words like H I G H when-
ever they occur. His dynamically interacting, energy-consuming
network of structures and needs insulates him from the real
world.
Similarly, if your cultural conditioning has not given you any
categories as part of the Input-Processing subsystem to recognize
certain events, you may simply not perceive them. T h u s real
events are shown on the time axis that have no corresponding
categories in the person; so the wheel of your life rolls over these
events hardly noticing them, perhaps with only a moment of
puzzlement before your more " i m p o r t a n t " internal needs and
preoccupations cause you to dismiss the unusual.
Figure 19-2 depicts cracks in the continuum, following Pearce's
analogy of looking for cracks—ways out—in the cosmic egg of your
culture. A crack may b e a totally uncanny event, something for
which you have no conditioned categories, a chance to see in
don J u a n ' s sense. If you experience such an event, though, the
cultural pressures, both from others and from the enculturated
structures built u p within you, will probably force you to forget
it, to explain away its significance. If you experience something
everybody knows cannot happen, you must be crazy; b u t if you
do not tell anyone and forget about it yourself, you will be okay.
Shah [56, pp. 21-23] records a Sufi story, "When the Waters
Were Changed," that illustrates this:
Once upon a time Khidr, the Teacher of Moses, called upon

mankind with a warning. At a certain date, he said, all the
water in the world which had not been specially hoarded,
would disappear. It would then be renewed, with different
water, which would drive men mad.
Only one man listened to the meaning of this advice. H e
collected water and went to a secure place where he stored it,
and waited for the water to change its character.
On the appointed date the streams stopped running, the
wells went dry, and the man who had listened, seeing this
happening, went to his retreat and drank his preserved water.
When he saw, from his security, the waterfalls again begin-
ning to flow, this man descended among the other sons of men.
H e found that they were thinking and talking in an entirely
different way from before; yet they had no memory of what
had happened, nor of having been warned. When he tried
to talk to them, he realized that they thought he was mad,
and they showed hostility or compassion, not understanding.
At first he drank none of the new water, but went back to
his concealment, to draw on his supplies, every day. Finally,
however, he took the decision to drink the new water because
h e could not bear the loneliness of living, behaving and
thinking in a different way from everyone else. H e drank the
new water, and became like the rest. T h e n he forgot all about
his own store of special water, and his fellows began to look
u p o n him as a madman who had miraculously been restored
to sanity.
Finally, in Figure 19-2 time's arrow is shown as turned back

u p o n itself to form a closed loop. T h i s illustrates the conservative
character of culture, the social pressure to keep things within the
known. Events from outside the consensus reality are shown as
deflected from entering it. T h i s does not mean that n o change is
tolerated; it indicates that while outward forms of some things
may change there is immense resistance to radical change. Funda-
mental assumptions of the consensus reality are strongly defended.
Fortunately we do make contact with reality at times. T h e r e
are forces for real change in culture so the conservative forces do
not always succeed. I have great faith in science as a u n i q u e force
for constantly questioning the limits of consensus reality (at least
in the long r u n ) , for deliberately looking for cracks in the cosmic
egg that open o n t o vast new vistas. But, far more t h a n we would
like to admit, our lives can be mainly or completely tightly
bounded wheels, rolling mechanically along the track of con-
sensus reality.
T h i s is a brief sketch of the way one's whole lifetime in a

" n o r m a l " d-SoC can be a state of samsara. I cannot yet write
more about it. I recommend Pearce's book, Exploring the Crack
in the Cosmic Egg [50], for a brilliant analysis of the way our
culture can trap us in its consensus reality, even when we believe
we are rebelling.
20.
Ways Out of Illusion
T h e discussion in Chapter 19 involves a value judgment that

should be made more explicit: being in clear contact with exter-
nal reality is good; being in poor contact with it is bad. This
statement should not be overgeneralized: there is nothing wrong,
for example, with deliberately becoming absorbed in a good
movie and deliberately igorning those aspects of reality that are
inconsistent with enjoying the movie. It is undesirable, on the
other hand, to believe you are in good contact with reality when
you are not.
I think most readers will have difficulty accepting Chapter 19
on more than an intellectual level. In some of our bad moments
we may be unhappy with the ordinary d-SoC, but generally we
seem pleased. Feeling happy is a function of a viable culture. If
the culture is to survive, the majority of its members must feel
contented with what they are doing and feel they are carrying
out a meaningful function in life. Whether we generally feel
happy or not, however, my personal observations and under-
standing of much of the research findings of modern psychology
have convinced me that the analysis of ordinary consciousness as
samsara is basically true. T h e present chapter is based on the
assumption that it is true and is concerned with ways out of a
state of illusion. It is not a guide to "enlightenment," for that
is both inappropriate in the context of the present volume and
beyond the reach of my competence.
Ways Out of Illusion 2
73
Why, then, would you or I or anyone want to escape from the

samsaric state that is our ordinary state of consciousness? T h e
exact answer varies for every individual, b u t in general there is a
mixture of cultural, personal, and growth/curiosity reasons.
A m a j o r function of a culture is to provide a consensus reality
that not only deals adequately with the physical world about it
but also produces a psychologically satisfactory life for the major-
ity of its members. Each of us needs to feel that h e belongs and
that his life has meaning in terms of some valued, larger scheme
of things. So every society has a mythos, a set of explicit and
implicit beliefs and myths about the n a t u r e of reality and the
society's place in it, that makes the activities of the people in that
society meaningful. T h e mythos that has sustained o u r society for
so long, largely the Judeo-Christian ethic, is no longer a very
satisfactory mythos for many people. Similarly, the rationalism or
scientism or materialism that tried to replace the religious
mythos of o u r society has also turned out to be unsatisfactory for
a large n u m b e r of people. So we are faced with disruptions and
conflicts in our society as people search consciously or uncon-
sciously for more satisfying values. O u r wheels of life, to continue
the analogy of Figure 19-2, are not rolling along smoothly through
our consensus reality. T h e r e are too many flat spots on the wheel
that produce unpleasant jolts, and too many pieces of broken
glass and potholes in the road of our consensus reality. So the
ride is no longer comfortable.
Personal reasons for desiring a way out may involve initial
poor enculturation, so we don't fit in well, knowledge of other
cultural systems that seem advantageous in certain ways, a n d / o r
hope that a more satisfactory substitute can be found for o u r faulty
culture. Various kinds of personal discontent make it difficult or
impossible for an individual to find meaning in his life within the
consensus reality of the culture. If h e acts out these discontents, he
may be classified as neurotic or psychotic, as a criminal, or as a
rebel, depending on his particular style. If he acts out in a way that
capitalizes on widespread cultural discontent, he may be seen as
a reformer or pioneer. Or, he may outwardly conform to the
mores of contemporary society but be inwardly alienated.
Finally, a person may want to escape for what I call g r o w t h /
curiosity reasons, a healthy curiosity or desire to know. H e may
be able to tolerate the limitations and dissatisfactions of the
culture around him and cope satisfactorily with it, and yet really
want to know what lies outside that consensus reality, what other
possibilities exist. H e may see the limitations of the current world-
view and want to know what world-views could replace it or
whether it can be modified.
I emphasize scientific curiosity in this book, the desire to
understand coupled with the realization that science is an excel-
lent tool for gaining understanding. But even those of us who
seek larger scientific understanding are also motivated by cul-
tural and personal forces.
Are There Ways Out?
A m a j o r intellectual theme in the Western world lately has

been that there are no ways out. Seeing the irrationality and
horror, the samsaric n a t u r e of much of the world about us, some
philosophers have concluded that this simply is h u m a n n a t u r e
and that the best we can hope to do is tolerate it in existential
despair or try, without much hope, to do the best we can. Indeed,
a person can use such despair as a p r o p for the ego by priding
himself o n his "realism" and courage in facing such a dismal
situation. While I respect these philosophies of despair for their
honest recognition that there is no easy way out, I am of an
optimistic n a t u r e myself and cannot accept despair as an end
goal.
More importantly, my studies of people's experiences in vari-
ous d-ASCs have convinced m e that people can and do have vital,
living experiences that are ways out. People have what Maslow
[36] called peak experiences of openness, freedom, and belong-
ing in which they feel they transcend, at least temporarily, the
samsaric condition of ordinary consciousness. It can be argued
that these experiences are just other illusions, that there is no
freedom. But the belief that a way out does not exist may be just
as illusory.
W h e n the search for a way out is triggered by discontent with
the ordinary d-SoC, a common reaction is to blame your discon-
tent o n some particular aspect of yourself or your society and
look for ready-made solutions. T h e r e are thousands of leaders
and groups who have ready-made solutions to sell you or give
you—a m u l t i t u d e of -isms and -ologies. Give yourself to Jesus,
join this commune, join political party X and remake the world,
support the revolution, the truth is now revealed through yogi Z,
eat your way to enlightenment with organic foods, find health
and happiness with a low-cholesterol (or a high-cholesterol) diet,
live in foreign country K where nobody hassles you.
T h i s is not meant to imply a blanket criticism of all commu-
nities, political and social ideas, or spiritual systems: indeed, in
Transpersonal Psychologies [128] I attempt to promote the psy-
chologies inherent in spiritual disciplines because of their great
value. Most of the -isms and -ologies being offered contain Valu-
able techniques for personal growth, ideas and techniques that
can help you get out. But, when your motive for escape stems
from a momentary discomfort with your present consensus real-
ity, from a feeling that your wheel of life has too many flat spots
and is hitting too many bumps, you may be seeking not radical
change in your self as the root cause of your problems, but simply
a more satisfactory belief system, a rounder wheel, and a nicely
protected consensus reality that has no bumps. Any tool for
personal or spiritual growth that humanity has ever devised can
be perverted from its original function and used for simply
making a person feel comfortable. T o o often, a person is not
really interested in looking more directly at reality, he simply
wants his current samsaric wheel of life, the structures of his
mind, overhauled or replaced with a new set that provides many
good feelings and hardly any bad feelings.
Figure 20-1 is a revision of Figure 19-1, used to illustrate the
concept of samsara. T h e content of the associational chains that
are activated is altered, and the tone of the emotional energies is
changed from negative to positive, and so the person's experience
is positive. T h e labels on the figure make it self-explanatory.
Still, all that happens in reality is that a stranger walks u p and
says, "Hi, my name is Bill." But this time the person, who we can
call Sara, becomes extremely happy as a result and feels very good
about herself. Yet she is as much in a state of illusion, samsara, as
she was before. She has a set of internal structures, internal ma-
chinery, that make her feel good, b u t she is n o more in touch with
reality than before.
D-ASCs as Ways Out
Since the ordinary d-SoC is the creator and maintainer of

consensus reality on a personal level, and since the sharing of
similar, ordinary, " n o r m a l " d-SoCs by others is the maintainer of
T
5
Figure 20-1. Development of samsaric consciousness with positive

rather than negative emotional tone. As in Figure 19-1, internal proc-
esses soon overwhelm perception and are mistaken for perception.
285
the consensus reality on a social level, one way out of samsara is
to enter a d-ASC, spend as much time there as possible, and get
all your friends into that d-ASC too. You would choose a d-ASC or
d-ASCs you valued, where you felt "high." T o many people
today the solution to the discomforts of current reality seems to
be to get high and stay high.
Many of us are currently fascinated with the possibilities of
being happy or solving our problems by entering into various d-
ASCs, using chemical or nonchemical means. W e have not yet
learned to estimate realistically the costs of this route. W e know
the costs of chronic alcohol use, b u t seem willing to tolerate
them. W e d o not know the costs of other d-ASCs very well. Consen-
sus realities can exist and be created in various d-ASCs. T h e ex-
planation of ordinary consciousness as samsara may well apply in
d-ASCs such as drunkenness or m a r i j u a n a intoxication. I n other
d-ASCs, such as meditative states, samsaric illusion may be less
common, but this has not yet been shown scientifically.
W e tend to get into what J o h n Lilly [35] calls "overvaluation
spaces"; we tend to be carried away by the contrast between our
experience of the d-ASC and the ordinary d-SoC, and so over-
value the d-ASC. I think this is largely a function of novelty or
need motivated blindness. Especially if we have taken a risk, such
as using illegal drugs, to attain a d-ASC, we have a need to
convince ourselves that the experience was worthwhile.
Further discussion of the costs of various d-ASCs seems to me
premature. T h e immense a m o u n t of cultural hysteria and propa-
ganda in this area gives us distorted and mostly false views of
what the costs are, and we must work through this and build u p
some scientific knowledge before we can talk adequately about
costs and benefits of d-ASCs.
T h e values of experiencing and working in d-ASCs can be
exceptionally high. But, as is true of all the many tools that have
been devised for h u m a n growth, a d-ASC's value depends on how
well it is used. Experiencing a d-ASC carries n o guarantee of
personal betterment. Achieving a valuable d-ASC experience de-
pends on what we want, how deeply and sincerely we want it,
what conflicting desires we have, how much insight we have into
ourselves, and how well prepared we are to make use of what we
get in the d-ASC. T h e r e is a saying in many spiritual traditions:
" H e who tastes, knows." T h e process is not that automatic. A
truer saying is: " H e who tastes has an opportunity to know."
I n the d-ASCs we know much about scientifically, the experi-
encer can be in a samsaric condition, involved in a personal or a
consensus reality that is cut off from reality, even though its style
is different, interesting, or productive of greater happiness than
the ordinary d-SoC.
Techniques exist, however, that are intended to free a person's
awareness from the dominance of the structure, of the machinery
that has been culturally programmed into him. I n terms of the
radical view of awareness, whatever basic awareness ultimately is,
there are techniques that at least produce the experience of
freeing awareness partially or wholly from the continual domi-
nance of structure, of moving toward a freer, more wide-ranging
awareness rather than a consciousness that is primarily a function
of the automated structure pattern of consensus reality. Let us
consider the general categories into which these techniques fall,
remembering that any discussion of their ultimate usefulness is
beyond current science.
T h e first step in using any of these techniques is to recognize
that there is a problem. Assume, therefore, that an individual,
through self-observation, has acquired enough experiential
knowledge of his samsaric condition to know that he needs to
and wants to do something. Although there are many religious
definitions of what a clear or higher state of consciousness is, we
can define a clearer condition of consciousness simply as one in
which external reality is recognized more for what it is, less
distorted by internal processes.
Discriminative Awareness
One way to begin to escape from the samsaric condition is to

pay enough directed attention to your mental processes so that
you can distinguish between primary perception coming in from
the external world and associational reaction to it. W e tend to
assume that we do this naturally, b u t I believe it is rare. T h i s
may be done by understanding how your associational structures
are built and how they generally operate, thus distinguishing
associational reactions on a content basis, a n d / o r by getting a
general experiential "feel" for a quality that distinguishes asso-
ciational reactions. If you can keep your primary perception and
your reactions to it clearly distinguished in your consciousness,
you are less likely to project your reactions to stimuli onto the
79
environment and others or to distort incoming perception to

make your perceptions consistent with internal reactions.
I have found, from both personal observation and indications
in the psychological literature, that making this discrimination,
putting a fairly high degree of awareness on the beginnings of
the associational process, tends to undercut their ability to auto-
matically stimulate other associational chains and thus acti-
vate emotions. You need not do anything in particular to the
association, just be clearly aware that it is an associational re-
action. T h e situation is analogous to being on your good behav-
ior when you know others are watching, whether or not those
others are doing anything in particular to influence your be-
havior.
A Watchman at the Gate
If you refer to Figures 19-1 and 20-1, you will notice the label,
DEROPP'S "WATCHMAN A T T H E GATE" ENTERS
H E R E . T h e analogy taken from DeRopp's book [15], is to a
watchman at the city gate (the senses) who knows that certain
slums in the city of the mind have outbursts of rioting when
certain mischievous characters (stimulus patterns) are allowed
into the city. T h e watchman scrutinizes each traveler who comes
u p and does not admit those he knows will cause rioting. If you
have a good understanding of your associational and reaction
patterns, your prepotent needs, and the particular kinds of
stimuli that set them off, you can maintain an attentive watch-
fulness on your primary perception. W h e n you realize that an
incoming stimulus is the sort that will trigger an undesirable
reaction, you can inhibit the reaction. It is easier to become self-
conscious, and thus remove some of the energy from incoming
stimuli before they have activated associational chains and pre-
potent needs, than to stop the reactions once they have been
activated.
T o a certain extent the practice of discriminative awareness,
described above, performs this function. Setting u p the watch-
man, however, provides a more specialized discrimination, pay-
ing special attention to certain troublesome kinds of stimuli and
taking more active measures when undesirable stimuli are per-
ceived. T h e watchman robs the reaction of its power early
enough to prevent it from gaining any appreciable m o m e n t u m ;
2 <288
discriminative awareness allows the reaction to tap into various
prepotent needs, even though the continuous observation of it
lessens identification and so takes away some of its power.
Nonattachment
A classical technique in the spiritual psychologies for escaping

from samsara is the cultivation of nonattachment, learning to
"look neutrally" on whatever happens, learning to pay full
attention to stimuli and reactions b u t not to identify with them.
T h e identification process, the quality added by the operation of
the Sense of Identity subsystem discussed in Chapter 8, adds a
great deal of energy to any psychological process. W i t h o u t it,
these processes have less energy and therefore make less mischief.
Vipassana meditation is a specific practice of nonattachment
performed in the technically restricted meditative setting. Recall
that the instructions (Chapter 7) are to pay attention to what-
ever happens, b u t not to try to make anything in particular
h a p p e n or to try to prevent anything in particular from happen-
ing. T h e idea is neither to welcome nor reject any particular
stimulus or experience. T h i s is q u i t e different from the ordinary
stance toward events, where a person seeks out and tries to
prolong pleasant ones and attempts to avoid or terminate un-
pleasant ones. Meditation, as N a r a n j o [39] points out, is a
technically simplified situation: a person removes himself from
the bustle of the world to make learning easier. But it is also
designed to teach nonattachment so the practice can be trans-
ferred to everyday life.
If one is successful in practicing nonattachment, the machinery
of the mind runs when stimulated, b u t does not automatically
grab attention/awareness so readily; reactions and perceptions
do not become indiscriminately fused together; and a t t e n t i o n /
awareness energy remains available for volitional use.
T h e r e are two clear ways in which the practice of nonattach-
ment can be flawed. O f t e n a person believes that h e is unaffected
by certain things, that he just is not interested in them or that
they do not bother him T h i s apparent indifference, however,
actually comes from an active inhibitory process that takes place
outside the focus of awareness. So he is really up-tight even if he
does not feel it. Self-observation a n d / o r feedback from others is a
corrective for this. Effective growth practices can thus promote
unhappiness and upset by breaking through an inhibitory layer

before being able to work on the disturbances themselves.
T h e other flaw is that while nonattachment may free a person
from the habitual loss of attention/awareness energy to the ma-
chinery of the mind, the machinery is still there. H e n o longer
automatically identifies with the machinery; it n o longer forcibly
grabs his attention/awareness, but the machinery itself, while
dormant, has not been dismantled. W h a t happens if he is put
in totally new circumstances in which he has not practiced non-
attachment?
Recall that once the machinery of the mind is activated, it
grabs attention/awareness energy, and after this, control may be
difficult or impossible. Totally new circumstances may activate
the previously inactive structures in novel ways so that they can-
not be stopped. A person may be unaware that the machinery has
begun operating, so it can grab his attention/awareness energy
and plunge him into a samsaric state again. T h i s appears to have
happened, for example, to some I n d i a n yogis who began living in
the West. T h e i r practice of nonattachment as a principal disci-
pline in India had enabled them to achieve a special serenity of
mind, but this was under particular cultural circumstances. As
one example, yogis and holy men are treated as nonsexual beings
in India. T h u s women may worship them, b u t in a completely
nonsexual way. W h e n they come to the West and are besieged in
a sexual way by beautiful young girls, the yogis, lacking practice
in handling this, are subject to strongly activated samsaric
mechanisms.
Dismantling Structures
T h e above techniques are mindfulness techniques, involving

an increase in awareness of what is h a p p e n i n g and how one is
reacting to it, usually with some discipline, such as nonattach-
ment, practiced in conjunction with this increased awareness. T o
some extent, these mindfulness techniques can actually dismantle
some of the structures of the mind. T h i s happens in two ways.
First, some structures seem to need to operate in the dark; they
cannot continue to operate when one is fully conscious of what is
happening. T h u s , insight into the n a t u r e of a structure results in
its partial or full dissolution. Second, some structures and combi-
nations of structures seem to need to be activated periodically to
2 <290
maintain their integrity. By practices like the watchman at the
gate or nonattachment, which d o not allow energy to flow freely
into them, they are starved and gradually lose their integrity.
Gurdjieff's [48] technique of self-observation, for example, in-
volves paying full attention to one's reactions without making any
attempt to change them. Many people practicing self-observation
have had the experience of watching an undesirable reaction
occur repeatedly, then weakly and later not at all, even though
the requisite stimulus occurs.
Many structures and subsystems are an intimate part of a
person's enculturated personality, however, and are not only
highly resistant to change by insight, b u t may be incapable of
being perceived well at all. They are so connected to prepotent
needs and defense mechanisms that they cannot be observed
clearly, or else they are so implicit that they are outside awareness.
They are never observed, so observation and mindfulness tech-
niques d o not work.
H e r e is where Western-developed psychotherapy becomes ex-
ceptionally valuable. T h r o u g h feedback and pressure provided
by others, whether a single therapist or a group, ordinarily invis-
ible aspects of a person's self may be so surcharged with emo-
tional energy that he is forced to confront them, and this insight
may change them. If insight alone is not sufficient, a variety of
techniques are available, ranging from operant-conditioning to
guided imagery techniques [3], which can deliberately change
specific structures.
Western-style psychotherapy is limited because it is likely to be
used not on structures that are basic to the samsaric condition,
but only on structures that produce experiences and behaviors
that are not acceptable in the particular consensus reality. T h u s
many psychotherapists are not growth agents in a general sense,
b u t rather work to readjust a deviant person to the consensus
reality of his culture. T h i s is not a conscious manipulation on the
part of these psychotherapists, b u t simply a reflection of the
power and implicitness of their own enculturation processes.
Psychotherapy can be a subversive tool in some practitioners'
hands, for some of the assumptions of the consensus reality can
be questioned in it, and the patient can grow beyond his culture
in some ways. All too often, however, the implicit assumptions
are not even questioned.
I n stating that most patients do not learn to go beyond con-
291
sensus reality, I do not want to imply that they should learn to
behave in a way that is clearly at odds with consensus reality. T o
behave in "crazy" ways is no sure sign of escape from samsara.
Knowing how to use effectively the consensus reality in which
one lives is essential for survival. I n terms of cultural, personal,
and scientific goals of transcending samasaric limitations of the
ordinary state, however, we should be aware of the limits of
conventional psychotherapy.
I suspect, as N a r a n j o [39] has suggested, that the synthesis of
the psychotherapy techniques of the West and the spiritual disci-
plines of the East will form one of the most powerful tools for
understanding ourselves that has ever existed. T h e various kinds
of mindfulness and nonattachment techniques are the ultimate
tools because of their generality, but there may be some psycho-
logical structures in the personality that have so much energy,
are so implicit, or are so heavily defended that they must be dealt
with by using specific psychotherapeutic techniques to dismantle
them.
How Far Can We Go?
If we assume, for the purpose of this discussion, the (at least

partial) validity of the radical view of the mind, then what are
the limits to h u m a n consciousness and awareness? Figure 20-2
presents some speculation along this line.
Consider reality as divided into two realms: MEST, the physi-
cal world, of which we know many of the basic laws and are
discovering more, and the realm of awareness, whose basic laws
are essentially u n k n o w n to us at this time. T h e ordinary d-SoC,
then, is the gestalt product of awareness and structure, deter-
mined and limited by whatever laws inherently govern each
realm, and yet is also a n emergent synthesis not fully predictable
from the laws of either realm.
In some ways the composite system is even more limited, for
both the M E S T structure and awareness have been further re-
stricted in the enculturation process. T h u s the ordinary d-SoC is
capable of considerable expansion: we can change existing struc-
tures and build new ones, and we can cultivate the ability to
control awareness more freely within these structures and to pay
attention to things other than what the culture has defined as
important.
Figure 20-2. Consciousness and awareness-MEST interaction.
J u d g i n g from experiential reports, some d-ASCs seem to be

much less mechanical, much less controlled by structures and
allowing more free range of awareness. T h i s is represented in
Figure 20-2 by the oval just to the left of the ordinary d-SoC
penetrating more into the realm of awareness and less into the
realm of MEST. Similarly, experiential reports from some d-
ASCs—those caused by sedatives, for example—suggest that there
is less awareness and far more mechanicalness, that consciousness
is far more restricted by structure than ordinarily. T h u s another
oval, further to the left, is shown as more into the M E S T realm
and less into the awareness realm. T h e extreme case of this, of
course, is mechanical intelligence, the computer, which (as far as
we know) has n o awareness at all but processes information in a
totally mechanical way, a way totally controlled by the laws of
the M E S T realm. Present computers are also partially limited by
cultural structuring; it only occurs to us to program them to do
293
certain "sensible" things, giving them a range that is probably
less than their total capability.
U p to this point the discussion is still compatible with the
orthodox view of the mind, which sees awareness as a function of
the brain. T h e circle to the far right in Figure 20-2, however, is
compatible only with the radical view that awareness can operate
partially or totally independently of the brain structure. I n some
mystical experiences, a n d in states called out-of-the-body experi-
ences, people report existing at space/time locations different
from that of their physical bodies, or being outside of space/
time altogether. I believe that parapsychological data require us
to consider this kind of statement as more than interesting ex-
periential data, as possibly being valid rather than simply being
nonsense. T h e reader interested in the implications of parapsychol-
ogy for the study of consciousness should consult other writings
of mine [128, 129, 131]. Let me note here that to the extent that
this may be true, awareness may potentially become partially or
wholly free of the patterning influence of M E S T structure.
An awareness of how structures and systems of structures tend
automatically to grab attention/awareness and other psychologi-
cal energies makes it easy to form a picture of structure as bad
and to see d-SoCs that are less involved with structure as auto-
matically better or higher. T h i s is a mistake. Structures perform
valuable functions as well as confining ones. A d-SoC is not just a
way of limiting awareness; it is also a way of focusing a t t e n t i o n /
awareness and other psychological energies to make effective
tools, to enable us to cope in particular ways.
I have observed people in d-ASCs where they seem less caught
in structures, more inclined toward the unstructured awareness
dimension of mind. My impression is that it was both a gain and
a loss: new insights were gained, b u t there was often an inability
to hold to anything and change it in a desired direction. Cer-
tainly there are times when not attempting to change anything,
just observing, is the best course, b u t the ability to move between
activity and passivity as appropriate is optimal. T h e structures of
d-SoCs aid us by restricting awareness and facilitating focusing.
Perhaps as meditative and similar exercises teach us to control
attention/awareness more precisely, we may have less need for
structures.
As a scientist, I have tried to keep the speculation in these last
three chapters compatible with the scientific world-view and the
scientific method as I know them. I have often drawn o n data not
generally accepted in orthodox scientific circles, b u t they are data
that I would be willing to argue are good enough to deserve
closer examination. Because I have set myself that restriction in
writing this book, I now end speculation on how far h u m a n
awareness might be able to go, for to continue would take me
further from my scientific data base than I am comfortable in
going at this time.
Let me conclude with what may seem a curious observation:
Western psychology has collected an immense a m o u n t of data
supporting the concept in the first place. W e have studied some
aspects of samsara in far more detail than the Eastern traditions
that originated the concept of samsara. Yet almost n o psychologists
apply this idea to themselvesl T h e y apply all this knowledge of
h u m a n compulsiveness and mechanicalness to other people, who
are labeled " a b n o r m a l " or "neurotic," and assume that their
own states of consciousness are basically logical and clear. West-
ern psychology now has a challenge to recognize this detailed
evidence that our " n o r m a l " state is a state of samsara and to
apply the immense power of science and our other spiritual
traditions, East and West, to the search for a way out.
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Index
<HKHKH3<HKHXHKH><H>WKH}iKHK^
Aaronson, B., 128, 199n attention/awareness, 4, 14-18, 20-21

absorption, 15 attraction of, 16-17
Access Concentration, 235 direction of, 16-17, 18, 22, 281
adolescence: as energy, 17-18, 21-23, 267n
conversion vs. conformity in, 46-47 in self-observation, 158-159
sexual energies in, 46 Australian bushmen, 171
adulthood, consensus reality and, 47- automatic writing, 138
48 awareness:
Akldan dervishes, 201 consciousness and, 27-28, 29-30,
alcoholic blackout state, 111-112 247-248, 258-259
alcohol intoxication, 5, 106, 118, 134 content of, 14-16
alpha rhythm, 60, 188, 192,221 nature of, 172-173
Altered States of Consciousness, 155 self-, 4, 15, 16
Amanita muscaria, 135 "awareness of breathing," 197
American Association for the Ad- "awareness of environment," 195
vancement of Science, 206n, 219 "awareness of the joke," 195
American Transpersonal Association,
194 Barber, Theodore X., 144
analgesia, 102, 140-142, 159-160 Bare Insight, 235
see also pain baseline state of consciousness, see
anxiety, function of, 66 b-SoC
archetypal time, 127 Bayazid, 47-48
archetypes, 113-114 behaviorism, 156-157
Arica, Chile, 235, 238 "being in time," 196
"As Above, So Below," 248-249 Bennett, J., 202
associational reactions, 278-279 Berke, J., 59
atoms, 244 berserkers, 135
2^8 Index
biofeedback, 21 n, 94, 221 consciousness, ordinary:
Blackburn, T „ 206-207 characteristics of, 54
"blackness," of visual field, 194 nature of, 33-50
Blake, William, 33 as samsara, 259-271
body image, 64-65, 94-95, 132 as specialized tool, 3
brain, conservative view of, 29-30, 246 see also reality, ordinary (consen-
breathing: sus)
in hypnotic state, 197 consensual validation, 213-215, 223-
in meditation, 84 224
Brown, Dean, 243n conservation, principle of, 255-256
b-SoC (baseline state of conscious- creative states, 232, 234
ness) , 5, 7, 70-71, 72-74, 251-252 Cree Indians, 43
Buddha, Buddhism, 235 culture:
Buddhist meditation, 15, 75, 235 function of, 272-273
see also meditation; Zen meditation human potential and, 40-41
Buddhist view of self, 132-133
buffers, 167 d-ASC (discrete altered state of con-
sciousness):
Castaneda, Carlos, 23, 64, 65, 100, 104, communication in, 201-205, 214-
138, 154 215
Center of the Cyclone, 238, 239 cost of, 277
chakras, 83 deinduction of, 7, 75
chants, 196 depth reports of, 188-189
childhood: drug induction of, 91-92, 146-155,
language and, 45 176
mental freedom in, 45-46 ego sense in, 133-134
Cloze technique, 204-205 emotions in, 125
cognitive processes, 11, 13 explanation of, 5, 208
see also Evaluation and Decision fear of, 172, 225
Making inaccessibility of, to science, 224
Collective Unconscious, 113, 136 increased strength in, 138
communication, 201-205, 214-215 induction of, 7, 70-87, 91-93, 104,
complement, 220, 254-255 176, 251-252
computers, 208, 284-285 Input-Processing in, 100, 102-104
congruence, 211 logic in, 118-120
consciousness: medium's trance state as, 107n
altered state of, as term, 5, 51 motor actions in, 137
awareness and, 27-28, 29-30, 247- observation of, 212-213
248, 258-259 range of awareness in, 284
baseline state of, see b-SoC as samsaric, 277, 278
discrete altered state of, see d-ASC self-experimentation with, 207
discrete state of, see d-SoC spatial perception in, 128-129
dream vs. waking, 10-11 state-specific memory in, 105-106
as duality, 250 strong emotions as, 124
as outside body, 30 studies of, 173-174
restructuring of, 4, 5 subconscious in, 110-112
states of, see states of consciousness time flow in, 126-127
as system, 3-4,14 trained observation of, 214
Index 299
in treating psychopathology, 8 tranquilizing, 67
as way out of samsara, 275-278 see also specific drugs
defense mechanisms, 25-26, 109, 130- drug skills, 7-8, 148, 152
131, 167 d-SoC (discrete state of conscious-
di'ja vu, 108-109, 127-128 ness) , 8-9
demand characteristics, 148, 212-213 communication in, 201-205
denial, 130-131 depth dimension of, 182-188
depression, 128 explanation and examples of, 5,
depth dimension, 182-200 51-62, 208
depth perception, 128 as focusing tool, 285
DeRopp, R„ 279 higher vs. lower, 205, 229-240
dervishes, 30, 201 individual differences in, 6-7, 142-
despair, existential, 274 145, 175, 221-222
destructuralized ego state, 60, 61, 77 limits of, 6
detached observer, 212 merging of, 180
Dienes, Andrew, 243n stabilization of, 5, 63-69
discontent, personal vs. cultural, 273 as system, 58-59, 62, 69
discrete altered state of consciousness, theorizing and, 215-216
see d-ASC transitions in, 60-61, 75, 144n, 145,
discrete state of consciousness, see 154n, 160-161, 180
d-SoC variations within, 117
"discrete states of posture" (d-SoPs), duality, 249-250
136n
disrupting forces, 7, 71-72, 73-75 ears, 91
"doing," 23, 103 ego:
dolphins, 246 belief in, 132-133
Don Juan, 23, 32, 38, 40, 47, 64, 65, constancy of, 135
100, 104, 125, 154, 269 detachment of, from body, 133
dreaming: see also Sense of Identity
control over, 41 ego states, types of, 60
hypnosis and, 190 electroencephalographic indices
mediums and, 107
(EEG), 60
ordinary nocturnal vs. lucid, 54
Emotions, 6, 12, 18, 49-50, 124-125
rational valuation and, 232, 234
empathy, 131
Tibetan yoga and, 161
empirical validation, 216
"Dream Time," 171
drives, 164, 266 enculturation, 34, 40-44, 172, 268
drugs: energy, psychological, see psychologi-
dangerous, 226n cal energy
energy vs. matter, 249
d-ASC induction and, 91-92, 146-
environmental variation, 5
155, 176
Erikson, Milton H., 187, 197
disruption of b-SoC by, 72
hallucinogenic, 100 Eskimos, 38
inhibiting the effect of, 68 Estabrooks, George, 87
nondrug factors and, 146-149, 150- Evaluation and Decision Making, 6,
151 13, 114-124
psychedelic, see psychedelic drugs associations and, 122-123
stupor from, 111-112 Evans-Wentz, W., 161-162
Index
expectation: new modes of perception and, 100
drugs and, 148, 151, 153 use of, in d-ASCs, 8, 74-75
meditation and, 84 humming, 196
experimental operationalism, 177 hypnosis, 5, 59, 74n, 75, 111, 138, 144,
experimenter bias, 212-213, 223, 253- 159-160
254 blocking of input in, 102
experimenters, as subjects, 217 characteristics of state of, 81
"experimenter's identity," 196 depth of, 187, 189-191
Exploring the Crack in the Cosmic depth perception and, 128
Egg, 271 induction of, 77-81, 84*, 87, 175-
Extended North Carolina Scale, 189- 176
191, 192-194, 197 logic in, 118-119
Exteroception, 6, 12, 90-93 Sense of Identity in, 80, 81
organs of, 90-91 vs. sleep, 79-80
eyes, 91,93, 100, 103, 128 state-specific memory in, 106-107
susceptibility to, 157
Faria, Abb£ de, 71n transference in, 80
"feeling of oneness," 196 transition to state of, 81-82
forbidden zone, 52, 251 William and, 191-200, 249
Fonlkes, D„ 60
Fridgen, Joseph, 59 "1," Gurdjieff's concept of, 164-166
Fromm, Erich, 188n Icazo, Oscar, 238
identity state, 8, 163-170
Gallup poll, 207 characteristics of, 166-167
Goleman, Daniel, 75, 160, 236, 237, functions of, 168-170
238 stabilization in, 166, 169
growth, individual, 179-180, 273-274 transitions between, 166, 167-168
guided imagery, 92, 282 illusion, see samsara
Gurdjieff, George, 136n, 164-168, 238, illusions, 100-102, 103, 223
282 communication of, 223-224
imagery, 92,140-143
hallucinations, 100-102, 109 imagining, as data, 223
Harts, Joseph, 238 individual differences, 6-7, 140-145,
Harvard Group Scale of Hypnotic 174-175, 221-222
Susceptibility, 191 ineffability, 218, 224
hatha yoga, 94 infancy, enculturation in, 42-44
here-and-nowness, 126-127 Input-Processing, 6, 12, 97-104
Hernton, C., 59 as abstraction, 99, 102-103
Hilgard, E„ 159-160 as automatic, 97-98, 99
hip valuation system, 232-234 generalization in, 99-100
Honorton, Charles, 188 as learned, 98
Houston, J., 96 voluntary control over, 101-102
human biocomputer, 4, 20, 178 Institute for the Study of Human
human potential: Consciousness, 24 3n
cultural selection of, 4, 40-42, 46- intact ego state, 60, 61, 77
47, 168 intensity:
d-ASC and, 8, 174 of d-ASC, 183-184, 187
Kundalini as, 83 of hypnotic state, 189-191
Index
interaction with environment, 13 marijuana intoxification, 5, 100, 111,
internal variation, 5 112, lift, 126, 127, 128, 129, 152-
Interoception, 6, 12, 93-97 153, 173, 180, 184, 185-186, 232
interoceptors: memory in, 105
immobilization of, 76, 78, 79, 82, 96 scientific understanding of, 207
overloading of, 96 state-specific memory in, 106, 107
introspection, 156, 157 synesthesia in, 104, 222
transition to, 59
James, William, 55 Marriage of Heaven and Hell, The,
jhana states, 75, 235 33
Judeo-Christian ethic, 273 Maslow, A., 225, 274
Jung, Carl, 115-114 massage, 96
Masters, R., 96
Kamiya, J., 87
maya, 258
Kanellakos, D., 87
meditation, 15, 23, 65, 280
kinesthetic feedback, 65
concentrative, 83-86, 102-103
knowledge, nature of, 211
expectations in, 84
Korzybski, Alfred, 162
opening-up, 86-87, 102-103
Kuhn, T., 208, 209
posture in, 82-83, 86
Kundalini, 83
types of, 82
language: see also Buddhist meditation; Zen
children and, 45 meditation
in d-ASC communication, 202 mediums, state-specific memory in,
for internal events, 157-158 107
Leary, Timothy, 98 Memory, 6, 11, 12, 104-109
least action, principle of, 256-257 awareness and, 107-108
left hemisphere mode, 120-121 in Input-Processing, 98
life/mind principle, 30 kinds of, 105
Lilly, John, 62, 93n, 178-179, 238, as sensory data, 101, 102
239, 246, 277 as structures, 105
limiting stabilization, 5 mescaline, 137, 153
"little smoke," 138 MEST, 247, 253, 283, 284, 285
loading stabilization, 5 mind:
logic, 114 , 261-262 child's, 45
see also state-specific logic conservative vs. radical view of,
LSD, 7, 91, 123, 153, 154, 157 15-16, 27-32, 246-247, 285
controlling of, 4
mandala, 72 definition of, 28
"man-machine," 164 direction of, 16
"man of knowledge," 125 Hindu metaphor for, 196-197
mapping experience, 51-58, 140-142, mindfulness techniques, 281
144, 179, 181 "misperception," 101, 223
marijuana: molecules, 244
nineteenth century use of, 153 mood, drugs and, 148, 150
reverse tolerance effect of, 7-8, 152 Motor Output, 6, 11, 136-139
state-specific communication and, control of by Subconscious, P38
203, 205 multiple personality, 8
student use of, 207 mythos of culture, 273
}02 Index
Naranjo, C„ 82, 84, 280, 283 "peacefulness," 195
negative feedback stabilization, 5 peak experiences, 274
nirodh, 235 Pearce, J., 31, 32, 45, 171, 269, 271
nonattachment, 280-281 perception:
nonidentification, 86 consciousness as, 34
nonverbal communication: depth,128
in d-ASCs, 204 distortion of, 38-39, 101, 123, 172,
Eastern techniques and, 224n 265-264
North Carolina Scale, 189, 190n freshening of, in meditation, 85,
"not doing," 23 86-87
in identity states, 170
observation: infant enculturation and, 43-44
alteration of observed by, 213 new modes of, 100
scientific, 212-215, 216-217 primary, 278
self-, 156-162, 278, 280, 282 as selective, 37-38, 98-99
Observer, 159-160, 161-162, 167 Subconscious control of, 113
observers: of truth in d-ASC, 223, 229
detached, 212 perceptual defense, 263-264
neutral, 254 perceptual readiness, 267
properly trained, 213 phantom limb phenomenon, 95
Ode on Intimations of Immortality, positive feedback stabilization, 5
85 preconscious, 111-112
Om, 196n prediction, scientific, 216
On Being Stoned, 151n prejudices, 34
operant-conditioning, 282 Priestley, J., I96n
operationalism, 175-177 primary meaning, 259
experiential, 177 projection, 264
ordinary consciousness, see conscious- psilocybin, 101-102, 153
ness, ordinary psychedelic drugs:
Orne, Martin, 118 association processes and, 123
Ornstein, R„ 82, 84, 121, 125, 126, depth dimension and, 128
224n physiological effects of, 91-92
Ouspensky, P., 137n, 164, 238 psychological effects of, 7, 135, 195
out-of-the-body experiences, 285 raw input and, 102-103
"overvaluation spaces," 277 state-specific memory and, 106
straight attitude toward, 232
pain, 16, 25, 31, 96, 102, 133 subconscious material and, 111
see also analgesia variable effects of, 153-155
paradigms: psychoanalysis, 110
psychological energy, 4, 17-18, 21
explanation of, 208-209
psychological structures, see struc-
hip vs. straight, 209-210
tures
paradigm shift, 214
paranormal abilities, 28-29 psychology, material view of, 243-244,
particles, 249 246-247
Path of Concentration, 235 Psychology of Consciousness, The,
Path of Insight, 238 121
patterning forces, 7, 8, 71-72, 73-75 psychopathology, cause of, 167-168
Index
psychotherapeutic techniques, 111, observation in, 212-213
167, 179, 282-283 organization of, 216-217
psychotic states, 128, 202, 232, 234 paradigms in, 208-209
public observation in, 213-215
quantum jump, 55, 252
solitary, 224
quantum principle, 52-53, 250-252 theorizing in, 215
quarks, 213n-214n see also state-specific sciences
rapid eye movement (REM), 60, 61 n, Science, 206n, 213n-214n, 219
176-177 scientific method, rules of, 211-212
"rate of time passage," 196 self-awareness, 4, 15, 16
rationality: self-observation, 156-162, 278, 280,
hip view of, 234 282
as primary value, 231-232 self-reporting, 188, 200
see also logic senescence, spiritual activity in, 49
reality: Senoi, 41
as altered by belief, 27, 30-31, 247 Sense of Identity, 6, 11, 13, 109, 129-
good vs. poor contact with, 272 136
physical, fixed rules of, 36-37 in hypnosis, 80, 81, 195
reality, ordinary (consensus), 23, 33- "sense of potentiality," 196
34, 39, 47-48, 97-98, 101, 103, 117, sense organs, 90-91, 253, 254
267 sensory deprivation, 92-93
identity states and, 166 setting, in drug use, 148-149, 151
as protection from fear, 168 sex, Subconscious and, 113
psychotherapy and, 282-283 Shah, I., 269
Sense of Identity and, 135 Shor, R., 188n
relativity principle, 253-255 sleep, 5
relaxation, 25 hypnosis and, 79-80
in hypnosis, 78, 194 induction of, 76-77
in sleep, 77 stages of, 60, 61n, 176-177
religion, vs. state-specific sciences, slow eye movement (SEM), 60
217-218 Snyder, S„ 153
soul, 30
restructuralized ego state, 60, 61, 77
right hemisphere mode, 110, 120-122, Space/Time Sense, 6, 12-13, 125-129
224n spirit guides, 41
Riordan, Kathy, 160, 238 spiritual disciplines, as psychologies,
rock concerts, 93 172
roles, 132, 168-169 spiritual techniques, individual dif-
ferences and, 175
samadhi, 84n, 127, 249-250 "spontaneous mental activity," 196-
samsara, 258-271 197
ways out of, 272-286 stability, individual, 179-180
Sanskrit, 158 stabilization, 5, 62, 63-69, 71-72
schizophrenia, 145, 203 in identity states, 166, 169
science: individual differences in, 145
alienation from, 206-207 limiting of, 5, 67-68
as limited, 8 loading, 5, 64-65
observable consequences in, 216— negative feedback, 5, 65-66
217 positive feedback, 5, 66-67
Index
Stanford Hypnotic Susceptibility Studies of Psi, 29, 32
Scale, 157, 191 subatomic particles, 244
Stanford Profile Scale of Hypnotic Subconscious, 6, 109-114
Susceptibility, 191 control of Motor Output by, 138
Stanford Research Institute, 243n psychoanalysis and, 110, 111
state of consciousness: subsystems, 5-6, 7, 88-139, 199
basic postulates of, 4 Sufi teaching stories, 35-36, 44, 47-
determined by scan, 10-11 48, 201, 269-270
as special vs. everyday, 6-7 suppression, as neurotic defense, 25
as term, 5, 10, 51 synesthesia, 104, 222
see also specific states of conscious- systems approach, 3-9, 13-14
ness Gurdjieff and, 166-168
state-specific communication, 201-205, identity states and, 164, 166
214-215 methodological problems in, 8
state-specific knowledge, 167, 205, strategies in use of, 171-181
218n-219n, 222
state-specific logic, 118-120, 216 Tart, C„ 151n, 194, 219
state-specific memory, 105-107, 215n Tarthong Tulku, Rimpoche, 258«
state-specific sciences, 8, 205, 206-228 Tesla, Nikola, 143
problems in development of, 222- T H C (tetrahydrocannabinol), 152-
226 153
relationship between, 219, 221 theology, 218n-219n
vs. religion, 217-218 theorizing, scientific, 215
states available to, 227 thinking:
training for, 225-226 direction of, 16
stimuli: loading of consciousness by, 65, 117
effects of, 48-50 Tibetan yoga, 161
uncanny, 104 timelessness, 127
structural integration, 20n Timmons, B„ 87
structures, 4, 5-6, 7, 16, 18-19, 21, 88, trance, 107"
285 Transpersonal Psychologies, 29, 75,
activated, 21 160, 172, 238, 275
altering of, 22-23 tripping, as term, 154
associational, 278 trips:
composite, 25 in experimental situation, 148-149,
as conditioned, 20, 22-23 151
dismantling of, 281-283 good vs. bad, 148-149, 150-151,
energy used by, 22-23, 267n 225-226
forming of, 67 Trosman, H., 60
as independent, 199 truth, state-specific sciences and, 223,
inference of, 18-19, 20 229
in Input-Processing, 99 twilight imagery, 92
interaction of, 23-26
as limiting potential, 20 unconscious, Freudian, 6, 110
as permanent, 19-20
unity, 249-250
psychological, 21-26, 74, 258-259
secondary gains from, 22 Van Eeden, Frederick, 54
as system, 19
"vibrations," 129
Index
Vikings, 155 witch's cradle, 96-97
vipassana meditation, 15, 86, 160, 280 Witness, 159
Vogel, G„ 60, 77 Wordsworth, W„ 85
Void, 199, 249, 250
yodeling, hypnosis and, 87
waking state, 5 yoga, 21n, 94, 96, 161
"watchman at the gate," 279-280 yogis, sex and, 281
whales, 246
Whole, Gurdjieff's concept of, 164— Zen meditation, 85-84, 221
166 see also Buddhist meditation;
William, hypnotic experiments with, meditation
191-200, 249 Zen teaching story, 85-84
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This is a transitional book.

The Systems Approach to

There is a great elegance in starting out from simple ideas, slowly

widely used experimental procedures are not sensitive to these

tion. T h e r e is a price to be paid for everything we get. It is vital

The Components of Consciousness:

People use the phrase states of consciousness to describe unusual

EXTEROCEPTION (sensing the external world)

INTEROCEPTION (sensing the body)

INPUT-PROCESSING (seeing meaningful stimuli)

EVALUATION AND COGNITIVE PROCESSING

* This category represents the combined functioning of several subsystems.

must develop conceptual frameworks, theoretical tools, that make

Awareness and Energy

We begin with a concept of some kind of basic awareness—an

ceptualize and (to some extent) experience as distinct from the

2 Something we can only know retrospectively.

content, since that awareness is a product of the structure and

T h e mind, from which consciousness arises, consists of myriad

Interaction of Structure and Attention/Awareness

* We should be careful about a priori definitions that certain structures

Interaction of Structures and Structures

Although the interaction of one psychological structure with

SFor complex structures, we should probably also distinguish among (1)

Conservative and Radical

An almost universal theory in Western scientific circles, sunk to

nothing against competent attempts to fit such phenomena into

Figure 3-1. Conservative view of the mind.

ultimately limited by the hardware and by particular software

Figure 3-2. Radical view of the mind.

of thought that have dealt with altered states of consciousness, is

The Nature of Ordinary

If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would

William Blake, The Marriage of

T h e prejudice that our ordinary state of consciousness is natu-

Figure 4-1. Naive view of consciousness/perception.

While there are a great many simple perceptions we can very

Figure 4-2. Consensus reality: fit.

Figure 4-3. Consensus reality: nonfit, distortion.

apply this information to their own perceptions, Even though

Figure 4-4. Spectrum of human potentials.

1 For simplicity here, we will ignore subcultures and conflicts within a

We tend to think of a newborn infant as a rather passive

Figure 4-5. T h e enculturation process.

innate hardware properties (racial, genetic) of the eye and ner-

By the time an ordinary person reaches childhood, he has

T h e child's m i n d is autistic, a ridi texture of free synthesis,

It is precisely this kind of childish strangeness that both frus-

Adolescence is a different stage from childhood, not just a

Adults are full-fledged members of the consensus reality: they

O n e day a m a n reproached Bayazid, the great mystic of the

I stress the view that we are prisoners of our ordinary state of

T h e final stage in a person's life comes when he is too old to