Most people, even scientists and philosophers who should know better, believe that visually perceiving a scene is like taking a photograph. All the information in the scene is presented to the eyes then to the brain and mind. A similar information path would be followed in a camera, from world, to lens, through the box, to the film or other light sensors.
That is a completely wrong analogy, as James Gibson argued and documented (Gibson, 1966, 1979), and as he tirelessly taught in his Thursday afternoon seminars at Cornell. Animals (including us) perceive by active exploration of an environment, he said. Perception is active.
And what is perceived? Not a snapshot of a scene, not a retinal image. Unlike a photograph, a retinal image is never seen by anyone. We don’t see our retinas. We do not see scenes.
Features of a situation are perceived, like edges, corners, surfaces, objects, other people; not static pictures. The features we perceive do not change as we explore them. They are “invariant” features, or as Gibson called them in his last book, “affordances:” those features of the environment that offer, or afford, species-appropriate behavior to the animal. A hole in a tree affords a hiding place for a bird but not for a giraffe, and probably not for a person either.
Alva Noë wears Gibson’s mantle. In this book he argues with evidence and careful reasoning that how things are seen depends on more than optical processes. Visual perception depends crucially on the perceiver’s perspective, which changes constantly as the perceiver actively explores its environment.
It is a common everyday experience to not notice when something changes. You can be waiting at a traffic light, staring right at the signal, but thinking about something else, and not notice when the light changes to green. The visual stimulus reaches your eyes, stimulates your retinas, and presumably sends optical signals to your brain but when the car behind you honks impatiently, you say to yourself, “I didn’t see it.” That demonstrates that seeing is an active process of exploring that involves paying attention.
Noë’s contribution is to lay out the evidence and the arguments so clearly that only the most dogmatic or inattentional reader can fail to accept it. Even so, I don’t think this book will change any minds. The idea that perception is passive recording of events has been around for thousands of years. It was wrong then, it is still wrong now.
There are some weaknesses in the book. One is the presumption of a Kantian world view in which one must distinguish how things look versus how they really are. All we know is how things look. How would we ever know how things really are except by inference from how they look? This is a common but perplexing logical absurdity that Noë perpetuates.
Right at the end, Noë forgets what his book was about and gets flustered trying to answer the question, does the active view of perception presuppose the existence of consciousness? Well of course it does, but trying to account for consciousness is out of scope for this book, or should have been. But Noë proceeds to do some hand waving about biology, evolution, panpsychism, and the need for more research, none of it convincing and none of it necessary.
Despite these shortcomings, the book is a solid presentation of a simple idea that many experts stubbornly refuse to accept: perception is active, intentional exploration, not passive reception of stimuli.