Before Concepts Transform Reality

Language, for all its power, cannot capture reality; it only offers an abstracted representation of what is. This limitation originates from the fact that words and concepts transform what they describe. Though indispensable in structured systems—like logic, science, and mathematics—concepts simplify and distort essential details that are crucial to understanding reality in its entirety. The moment we label, name, or define something, we reduce it to a manageable mental symbol, changing what it is. This change may help us communicate, but it fails to convey what can be directly experienced. For a few examples of these alterations, let’s recall that words cannot express:

  1. The uniqueness of individual things, like a particular squirrel;
  2. A unified whole, something without segmentation or background, where no “parts” exist;
  3. Direct sensory experiences, such as the sweetness of honey or the scent of a rose.

When we use language to transform lived experience into generalizations, we turn the specifics of reality into broad categories. This categorizing process yields troubling consequences beyond errors of depiction, it generates artificial biases and separations. For instance, generalizations about people or groups—whether based on limited exposure or culturally inherited labels—create societal divisions, like ethnocentrism or racism. These generalizations fuel a dualistic “us versus them” mentality, embedding in us a worldview where everything is defined by its difference from something else. Yet, who knows what someone with a different appearance or from a different culture can teach us. Further, such thinking distances us from what is truly essential in life: the direct, unmediated experience of human existence itself. Compare, for example, the experience of love to reading a description of it. The latter may inform us, but it does not capture the authenticity of the actual experience.

Two Competing Realities: Experiential and Conceptual

Psychologist Seymour Epstein1 explored how humans navigate life through two distinct realities: one based on direct experience and the other rooted in thought. He referred to these as “experiential” and “cognitive” systems. Later, Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman2 expanded on this idea, discussing the “experiencing self” and the “remembering self.” More commonly, and perhaps to the point of their origin, we might think of these systems as “perceptual” (or experiential) and “conceptual” (or cognitive).

Neuroscientist Michael Gazzaniga3 adds that these two information systems likely originate from the brain’s structure, with only one side having the machinery that processes language. This separation of anatomical systems hints that direct sensory experience operates4 largely independent of language, functioning as a pre-conscious process. Perceptual intelligence, which helps us gauge value, beauty, and risk without verbal mediation, works instinctively and reflexively. It is this perceptual ability that makes us cover up when we’re cold or helps a golfer line up a putt more through perceptual awareness than mental calculation. Unlike the slower, deliberate nature of linguistic thought, perceptual intelligence allows for quick value judgments, essential for both survival and aesthetic appreciation.

The Pull of Language Over Experience

Language is crucial for communicating ideas, sharing knowledge, and handling complex tasks, yet it often overshadows the unexplainable wisdom of perceptual reality. Many people experience an undercurrent of unease—a sense that something’s wrong with how they appreciate the world—though they can’t exactly say what’s bothering them5. In The Matrix6, the character Morpheus articulates this conviction:

“What you know you can’t explain, but you feel it. You’ve felt it your entire life, that there’s something wrong with the world. You don’t know what it is, but it’s there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad.”

This pull towards the inexpressible may explain why people are drawn to experiences that transcend thought, such as art, music, meditation, or physical activities. In these moments, people often report a sense of “peace,” “flow” or being “in the zone”—states where their sense of self, time, and language disappears, leaving only direct experience. This sense of awareness without thought connects us to a deeper part of ourselves that is obscured by our constant internal chatter. It may also be the reason why people seek solace through religion—from the Latin “religio” and meaning to connect back to what’s most fundamental. 

Two Systems, One Reality: Insights from Philosophy and Psychology

Epstein4 distinguished the perceptual and conceptual systems by their unique qualities. The perceptual system is holistic and non-verbal, relying on associations, images, and emotions rather than logic or rules. It provides a direct connection to the world, interpreting it through feeling and sensory impressions. Of course, like the conceptual system, it can be fooled. For example, the sun doesn’t actually rise in the east. By contrast, the conceptual system is analytical and structured, using abstract symbols like words and numbers to interpret reality. This cognitive system enables us to plan, strategize, and structure our understanding of the world. Neither one of these two systems is perfect. Each as pitfalls that must be identified and avoided. However, by failing to acknowledge and use the perceptual system, humanity runs the risk of mistakenly believing that reality can only be described through a materialist lens. 

The dual-system framework mirrors ideas in ancient philosophy, particularly the Advaita Vedanta tradition. Philosopher Sankara7 described two layers of reality: the empirical (material) and the ultimate (non-dual). In his view, empirical reality is conditionally true, while the ultimate reality—without concepts or distinctions—is absolutely true. Sankara proposed that sensory and perceptual experience can reveal a unity that the conceptual mind cannot capture, that of an underlying wholeness that escapes our attempts to label or categorize.

Bridging Science and Spiritual Insight

The perspectives of Epstein, Kahneman, and Sankara reveal two parallel ways of knowing:

  1. Conceptual reality, which arises from the abstractions of conceptual thought, creates a materialistic understanding of self and world.
  2. Perceptual reality, which is direct, timeless, and beyond language, offers a seamless experience of existence that exists prior to labels and categories.

The non-dual, perceptual view enables us to glimpse a stable sense of self that transcends any particular role or identity. Philosopher René Descartes8 famously wrote, “I think, therefore I am,” defining selfhood through thought. But our identities, shaped by roles like “parent,” “activist,” or “executive,” are ever-changing and provisional. Are we truly different people in each role, or is there a more fundamental, enduring self? The answer lies in the non-verbal perceptual self, which remains consistent amid life’s changes. This deeper self, overshadowed by our conceptual identities, holds the key to a stable understanding of who we are.

The Quest for an Enduring Self

Many of us chase a stable self-concept or worldview, especially when we try to ground our identity in changing, external factors. This chase certainty can feel like a never-ending cycle, driven by the shifting nature of thought-based identities. However, this search subsides when we turn inward, to explore the question, “What is my perceptual identity?” By shifting focus to this unchanging self—rooted in direct, non-verbal awareness—we connect to an authentic reality prior to words. This perceptual identity is stable and continuous, unaffected by the changing roles and experiences around us.

In quiet moments, many people sense this deeper self—a feeling of simply “being” rather than constantly “doing” or “becoming.” This experience isn’t defined by our achievements, roles, or possessions but by an inherent awareness that remains unaltered despite life’s fluctuations. Practices like meditation, especially when done with strong determination for the goal of detachment from both voluntary and involuntary thought, can reconnect us with this fundamental self-identity, and allow us to appreciate the reality that words fail to grasp.

Finding Balance: Language and Perceptual Awareness

In our quest for meaning and self-understanding, language remains a valuable tool, but we must recognize its limitations. By balancing our conceptual and perceptual selves, we can live more fully, appreciating life beyond the distortions of thoughts and words. In doing so, we reconnect with the dimension of existence we have long suspected—one that’s whole and prior to the concepts of time and location.

References

  1. Epstein, S. (1973). The self-concept revisited. Or a theory of a theory. American Psychologist, 28, 404–416. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/h0034679
  2. Kahneman, D., & Riis, J. (2005). Living, and thinking about it: Two perspectives on life. In F. A. Huppert, N. Baylis, & B. Keverne (Eds.). The science of well-being (pp. 285-304). Oxford, England: Oxford University Press.
  3. Gazzaniga, M. (1989). Organization of the human brain. Science, 245, 947–952.
  4. Epstein, S. (1994). Integration of the cognitive and the psychodynamic unconscious. American Psychologist, 49, 709–724.
  5. The Biggest Questions Ever Asked. New Scientist “What is Reality?” https://www.newscientist.com/round-up/biggest-questions/
  6. The Matrix (1999). Wachowski & Wachowski, Warner Bros.
  7. Sankara. Dalal, N. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/shankara/#TwoTierReal
  8. Descartes, Renee (1641) Meditations. Published online by Cambridge University Press: 05January 2016.

You Understand Reality and Virtual Reality Backwards.

Reality is based on percepts/ perception. Virtual reality is based on concepts/ conception.

Each of lives in and must manage two worlds. Contrary to what one might expect, a mind clear of thought (mental clarity) informed only by direct sensory-perceptual experience (touches, sights, sounds, smells, tastes) interacts with and manages the real world. The mental juggling of ideas, thoughts and concepts, on the other hand, creates virtual realities (worlds), like “My shoulder should not ache” or “Having money is all important.” Of course, logic-based thinking, structured for mental arithmetic or planning a vacation, is useful. But, for how many moments of our lives do we need or use formal logic? Even an extensive trip only needs a few thought-seconds worth of reflection before the plans are complete. Our two worlds are separated only by the difference between a mind clear of thought and one engaging with it.

Four definitions are required to understand the truth of the above paragraph: Concept, Percept, Virtual and Reality. Using Dictionary.com, these are:

  • Concept – a general notion or an idea (like a thought). Conceive means to form a notion, opinion, purpose, etc.;
  • Percept – the mental result or product of perceiving. Perceive means to become aware of, know, or identify by means of the senses;
  • Virtual – being something in essence though not in name;
  • Reality – (philosophy) something that exists independently of ideas conceiving it.

Psychology’s two selves theory, which also forms some of the basis for the field of behavioral economics, relies on the difference on how our brain’s two hemispheres process information. The right brain processes sense-perceptions in its direct contact with reality that’s, as defined by the dictionary, “…independent of any ideas.” It does not interpret (make meaning about) what it encounters. The left brain, in contrast, transforms sensory-perceptual experience into concepts and interprets them (i.e., ideas and notions) to create a plausible, but virtual, reality – one only “…in essence.” If you have any doubts about these functions, please read Gazzaniga’s excellent article about research that used patients who had their brain hemispheres surgically separated to minimize intense seizures. Through our sense-perceptions as well as our thoughts, we develop two separate and distinct views about the world, including about ourselves; “who we experience ourselves to be” in contrast with “who we think we are.”

When we define ourselves by our sense-perceptions we are what we experience. So-called virtual reality experiences made by using images shown, for example, by a head-mounted display (HMD), like appearing to be standing alone in a snow-covered field or peering off the top ledge of a tall building, are real experiences (as defined by the dictionary). To accept the reality of these images, a person must ignore their thoughts and recent memories of being in a room full of fancy computer equipment and accept only what his or her sense-perceptions provide. Even if we might think or remember otherwise, the dictionary definition assures us that we remain in reality when our experience is accepted as valid—even if that tell us that we are looking down from a great height.

The greatest benefit to aligning with sense-perceptions and away from conceptual understanding is openness to the experience of the full range of living. Gender, for example, is often boxed in to two conceptual categories. Those two boxes do not to allow for the entire range of observed gender characteristics, some according to preference, some to anatomy, biochemistry, psychology, etc. An “open” world trivializes the rigidity of the categorical boxes that originate from language itself, including those that also support egoism, racism, genderism, nationalism, etc. A creative and flexible view, one in more accord with the full expression of life, becomes more available with this type of openness. Empathy—experiencing others for who they uniquely are—may increase. Insights, those unbidden flashes of wisdom that arise, may also appear more often when mental ruminations are not blocking its path. 

Language, the currency of the left brain’s conceptual processing, so pervades our life that we believe it describes reality. By definition, of course, language constructs a virtual reality. Virtual realities, including those nasty, over-arching ones of skepticism of what’s truthful, self-centeredness, phobias, etc., all originate here. Another harm from language is that it fails to specify anything as unique—like each of us individuals for example, or even any common object, like the lamp on my desk. The word “lamp” describes a large, general category of objects that produce light. Saying “It’s a lamp,” does not identify a specific one on my desk. The problem with lies in the fact that everything in the world is specific and unique. By accepting ourselves as a category (“soccer mom,” “hard worker”) we also lose our uniqueness our personal authenticity. Further, the individuality and uniqueness of others is similarly denigrated (like “young,” “multiracial,” “smart”). Come to think of it, everything loses its individuality because words cannot account for uniqueness.

Those who “buy in” to language take on lives lived as if they themselves are a category—like “depressed,” “important,” “football fan,” or “internet star.” This bargain involves losing one’s authentic self in exchange for becoming an artificial persona aligned to a category that seems beneficial. This deal with the devil requires the persona to dedicate himself or herself to the demands of the category and deny the openness that all lived-experience can offer. The rules of the category become paramount. Unfortunately, with the loss of one’s authentic humanity the persona’s their full capacity for empathy also diminishes. Rules come to matter more than people.

The practice of mindfulness is the process of paying attention to sensory-perceptual experience. It’s the only way I know of to return to reality. Initially, some find the practice of mindfulness difficult since virtual reality is so engrossing and actual reality so impossible to define by words. Many even allow thoughts to ruminate for hours in the hopes of understanding something new and important. But, research suggests that mind wandering causes more harm than good. Eventually, those who practice mindful attention can and do return to reality, accepting sensory-perceptual experience for the truth, and the oddities, it offers.

Though many think otherwise, the exit from virtual reality makes us happier and more content. Phobias lessen when fearful thoughts diminish and sense-perceptions dominate awareness. The pain that’s been in our shoulder will still exist but unnecessary worry will not. The felt sense remains with no bother at all. By making the shift from thoughts to experience, people get better. My own sense is this is how placebos work—by encouraging the release of thoughts and the return of one’s attention to their sense-perceptions. Granted, not everyone can make this mental shift but then again placebos only work in about one third of the people who take them.

There seems to be good reason to improve your relationship with reality—with your sense-perceptions: enhancing mental flexibility, increasing insightfulness, appreciating uniqueness, improving authenticity and empathy. There also seems to be good reason to decrease your reliance on the virtual world of thought-based reality—by minimizing the stereotypical thinking that maintains ego-centric greed, authoritarianism, antisocial behaviors, and the wide variety of forms of discrimination (racism, genderism). Becoming mindfully attentive takes a bit of practice. But there is little downside to losing virtual reality and a significant upside to increasing contact with reality.