In contemporary cognitive neuroscience, we often encounter the term “unconscious representations” (e.g., Shea & Frith, 2016). These are not just representations that could be conscious but just so happen to be unconscious; they are a distinct type of cognitive representation, where their status as unconscious is inherent to the kind of representations they happen to be. That is, being unconscious is part of the representational format in question.
This conception of unconsciousness differs from a type of established folk model inherited from Freud’s early twentieth-century armchair psychology. Here, the unconscious is just a place (e.g., “in the mind”) where representations go (by implication, consciousness is also a mind place, just a place different from the unconscious place). According to this picture, representations are unconscious as long as they are in that place (e.g., the unconscious), usually banished there by some speculative mental process (itself unconscious!) called “repression.” Because being unconscious is a contingent and not inherent aspect of those representations, they could lose it by being “brought back” to consciousness via some therapeutic intervention. This type of “folk Freudianism” is a deleterious brain cramp that needs to be abandoned if the aim is to understand how contemporary cognitive neuroscientists understand unconscious representations. Even when cleansed of its Freudian associations, as in more recent talk of the “cognitive unconscious” (Reber, 1993) or the “unconscious mind” (Bargh & Morsella, 2008), the idea of the unconscious as a “place” (or “brain system”) where representations reside is misleading and should be jettisoned. Instead, we should speak of unconsciousness as an inherent property of some representations in the brain.
Let’s reiterate. The unconscious is not a place where previously conscious representations go. Instead, it is a fundamental property of the vehicles in which some representations (crucial for various cognitive functions) are instantiated in the brain. These representations are inherently unconscious. They cannot be “brought” “into” consciousness (a seductive remnant of the unconscious-as-place conceptual metaphor) by any conceivable procedure. However, cognitive scientists and linguists can generate public representations (e.g., instantiated in some kind of linguistic theory or neuroscientific computational model) that redescribe these unconscious representations to establish their content (e.g., what they are designed to represent) and function (their role in the cognitive economy of the agent). These public representations, clearly phenomenally accessible to all as conscious agents, are convenient representational redescriptions (RRs) of the content of what are inherently unconscious representations.
For instance, psycholinguists sometimes try to reconstruct the underlying unconscious representations we use to parse the linguistic input’s syntactic and phonetic structure during language comprehension by transforming them (or, more accurately, their best guesses as to which these are) into all forms of public representations, like the ubiquitous sentence tree diagrams of generative linguistics or the pictorial diagrams of cognitive grammar (Jackendoff, 1987; Langacker, 2008). These public representations are not intended to be the exact or literal analogs of the unconscious representations people employ to parse the syntactic structure of a sentence. For one, they are in a different format (digital or paper and pencil diagrams) distinct from the target unconscious representations, which exist as (perhaps structurally similar) activation and connection patterns in neuronal assemblies. However, public representations of unconscious representation used in cognitive-scientific theorizing are designed to preserve the representational content of the underlying unconscious representations (the what of what is being represented) across distinct vehicles. So, both a sentence tree grammar and the underlying unconscious representations that enable us to parse the syntactic structure of a sentence represent the same content (e.g., the target sentence’s synaptic structure).
If unconscious representations are inherently unconscious, how do we even know they exist? Perhaps all the diagrams produced by linguists and cognitive scientists are just made up, referring to nothing since we cannot observe unconscious representations. There are two responses to this worry.
First, the idea of unconscious neural representations as “unobservable posits” is greatly exaggerated because unobservability (unlike unconsciousness!) happens to be not an inherent but merely a contingent property of unconscious brain representations. This is because the unobservability of any entity, including unconscious representations, is a two-place relational property, always relative to our historically fluid capacities (and limitations) as scientific observers. This means that just like in other scientific fields like high-energy physics, molecular biology, or astronomy, previously unobservable entities can cross the threshold of observability after some kind of technological advancement occurs in our observational instruments. Some contemporary cognitive neuroscientists argue that this is precisely what has happened to unconscious brain representations, which are now, given advances in fMRI technology, as observable as apples, tables, and chairs (Thomson & Piccinini, 2018).
Second, even if we treat unconscious representations as classic unobservables, we still can still have a solid warrant for their existence based on their (presumably explanatorily successful) role in our best cognitive theories and models. For instance, the only way to rationally reconstruct how cognitive neuroscientists proceed as scientists is thus via our old friend abduction (inference to the best explanation). Like every other scientist, cognitive neuroscientists proceed from observing an initially puzzling phenomenon to trying to understand the generative mechanisms that produce that phenomenon and, thus, solve the puzzle.
In the case of unconscious representations, the observed phenomenon is usually some kind of initially puzzling human ability or capacity no one doubts exists—like the ability to parse the phonetic structure of words or the syntactic structure of sentences or engage in fine-grained motor control. Unconscious representations then come in as proper parts of the underlying cognitive mechanisms posited by the neuroscientific theory, whose operations account for the phenomenon in question, thus solving the puzzle of how people “can do that” (Craver, 1998). Cognitive scientists thus posit the existence of unconscious representations as part of this underlying mechanism because they provide the best explanation, thus accounting for the puzzle of people’s ability to exercise the target capacity. Inference to the best explanation thus justifies both the act of the positing and the reality of the (for the sake of argument “unobservable”) unconscious representations featuring in our most explanatory successful models of how people can exercise a given capacity (Boyd, 1983).
To sum up, unconscious representations, like those accounting for your capacity to parse the phonetic structure of every word in this paragraph as you read it, are a completely uncontroversial part of the scientific ontology of contemporary cognitive neuroscience. They feature centrally in almost every mechanistic model of every cognitive capacity and ability we have, providing a solid scientific account of some of the essential functions of the mind. Their status as “unobservable” has been overstated since now we have routine access to them as observable entities and even the processes in which they participate.
References
Craver, C. F. (1998). Neural Mechanisms: On the Structure, Function, and Development of Theories in Neurobiology [University of Pittsburgh]. https://philpapers.org/rec/CRANMO-2


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