Path Dependency Theory

Preface

This article represents my personal annotations. Humbly speaking, I offer these thoughts to spark discussion. One day, while chatting with an AI, I unintentionally stumbled upon a theory—or perhaps it doesn’t yet qualify as a theory, so let’s call it an idea. This conceptual framework is still incomplete, hence I’m sharing it here to invite comments and refinement. I feel that my line of thinking is a small discovery. If it can withstand scientific validation, it could hold value for all of humanity. I don’t want it to fade away forgotten in my memory.

Chapter 1: Consciousness

I am not skilled in writing, let alone publishing a book. I am unfamiliar with academia, formatting, and the social intricacies of publishing. So, I’ll get straight to the point—because when I read, I also dislike authors who spend too many words stating what is already widely accepted. Without further ado, let’s begin.

What is consciousness? It is an ancient, perplexing puzzle. It seems that every scientific discovery involves exploring the unknown to reach understanding, yet consciousness alone remains right beside us. We’ve all pondered it; it’s not unfamiliar, yet it constantly eludes our grasp. A little suspense is still necessary; forgive me for that.

Here’s the main point: Once, while discussing a question with an AI, I noticed it could make subjective errors. When I asked why, it mentioned “path dependency.” Instantly, I thought of consciousness. Our brains exhibit similar subjective biases. But the AI isn’t human—how could it possess subjectivity? At that moment, it struck me: This is it—path dependency is consciousness. Originally an economic term, I’ve borrowed it for this context. What is path dependency? A simple mathematical model explains it: 1+1=2, therefore 1+2=3. This is the simplest model of path dependency: following the path of 1+1=2, the next step is 1+2=3, not 1+2=4.

Chapter 2: Dualism

We often think of consciousness in black-and-white terms: either present or absent. We must remember that consciousness is merely matter or information within the universe. Therefore, consciousness cannot exist solely in humans. That’s right—from an evolutionary perspective, we analyze levels of intelligence, suggesting that consciousness gradually developed and perfected. But today, please adopt my mode of thinking: Path dependency is consciousness itself because it possesses subjective tendencies.

Think of it like the boundary between living and non-living things. Are molecules life? Are inorganic substances? What about nucleic acids? Proteins or prions? Viruses? Bacteria? Cells? Organisms? Indeed, consciousness is similar: all things possess consciousness because they all exhibit subjectivity—path dependency. Just as bacteria move along concentration gradients to choose their environment, this is a form of consciousness.

Chapter 3: Geocentrism

At this point, probably no one would think I’m correct, because people are often trapped by the “geocentrism of consciousness.” We constantly search for a consciousness identical to our own, but in truth, we are not seeking what consciousness is; we are seeking the human. We use the Turing test—a black box—to examine consciousness; we use mirror tests to study animals. But do animals possess these functions? If not, does that mean they lack consciousness? Are you inherently smarter or more advanced than animals? Then why doesn’t the human brain have a magnetic sensing region? Clearly, consciousness is not exclusive to humans or pigeons. The consciousness that includes magnetic sensing belongs to pigeons; the consciousness with human functionality belongs to humans. Using human standards to judge animals is precisely the error of geocentrism.

Chapter 4: Metadata

I enjoy conversing with AI—the collision of thoughts. At that time, I knew nothing about the human brain, only dopamine. Through continuous reflection, I discovered the brain’s storage mechanism. I wondered: since the brain stores information in modules, how does it process information simultaneously? This brings us to metadata. Although I don’t understand metadata technology, I know its function. The simplest example is the synchronization of audio and video in television shows. How do the audio and video tracks play at the same time? When I asked the AI, it simply mentioned metadata and timestamps. These timestamps align each frame of video with the corresponding audio, integrating the two information paths. This chapter may seem like I haven’t said much, but for fellow beginners like me, here’s what follows.

Chapter 5: Decentralization

Everyone knows that decision-making is associated with the prefrontal cortex. So why mention metadata today? It’s because the prefrontal cortex is essentially a metadata processor. Information pathways from throughout the body converge and are integrated in the prefrontal cortex. It’s like a parliamentary hall where decisions are made after weighing all signals—for instance, the strength of hunger signals, happiness signals, pain signals, etc. All pathways are evaluated here for pros and cons before a decision is made. This is where the problem lies: we already live in a democratic system, yet we still conceive of conscious decision-making through the lens of ancient monarchical autocracy. It’s like the conductor of an orchestra waving a baton wildly on stage, seemingly in control. In reality, everyone follows their own score, adhering to their own paths. The conductor is responsible for synchronizing everyone’s metadata, ensuring all instruments together create a harmonious piece of music, not chaotic noise.

Chapter 6: The Boundary of Self

By now, many might be confused. Despite all I’ve said, it may still lack persuasiveness—what do path dependency and metadata have to do with me? And how does this address the important philosophical question: where is the boundary of the self? I pondered this too. If path dependency is consciousness, how does it become mine? The answer lies in the integrative capacity of metadata discussed in this chapter. Metadata possesses a self-monitoring function that integrates all pathways entering it into the self. In truth, the boundary of self is an illusion. Just as amputees experience phantom limb pain, or drivers feel their self-boundary extend to encompass the entire car, these are examples of external pathways being re-integrated with metadata, forming new self-boundaries.

Chapter 7: Subjective Experience

In my “parliamentary alliance” of path dependency, subjective experience is not a subjective feeling but the dynamic process of pathways shifting from one moment to the next. It’s like information entering the brain and, after arbitration by the prefrontal cortex, instantly triggering responses across all bodily pathways. For a single pathway, it is the transition from maintaining the current state to changing states—akin to inertia in physics.

Chapter 8: Internalization of Metadata

Here, I must mention that the prefrontal cortex—the metadata processor—can create more efficient connections between two pathways. Typically, information passes through the prefrontal cortex for integration, but for efficiency, two pathways may establish internal connections.

Chapter 9: Storage and Retrieval

The brain’s storage mechanism is no longer unfamiliar. We have computers that mimic neural networks, constructing information spatially. During retrieval, when information matches previous information, it naturally follows the same path. Thus, the brain truly resembles a quantum computer: all pathways coexist, and when searching for information related to a given cue, it follows paths consistent with that information—similar to pulse integration technology.

Chapter 10: Closed-Loop Pathways

If the brain’s storage is likened to a biological neural computer and retrieval to pulse integration—functioning like a quantum computer—it achieves high efficiency but lacks the accuracy of classical computers’ trial-and-error mechanisms. So, how does the brain revert to a classical computing mode? It likely involves closed-loop pathways. When information enters, metadata arbitrates. If certain pathway thresholds are met, action is executed. If not, the information circulates through closed loops, re-traversing pathways—now filtered. Through repeated metadata filtering and iterative cycling, the brain mimics the trial-and-error mechanism of classical computers, achieving accuracy. This represents the brain’s two modes of thinking.

Chapter 11: DID, Stockholm Syndrome, Philosophical Zombies

As I declared earlier, my theory is incomplete. My purpose is to gather diverse perspectives. In fact, I wrote this article in just one night, and I’ve only spent about a week pondering this theory. I lack the time and resources for in-depth academic or philosophical research. I simply don’t want to waste an idea, so I invite everyone to refine it together. Using my current framework, let’s briefly examine a few intriguing issues:

· DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder): From a path dependency perspective, it may result from the internalization of metadata in the prefrontal cortex, leading to multiple “mini-prefrontal” modules. Their operational modes (A, B, or A+B) are uncertain, forming multiple personalities.
· Stockholm Syndrome: Path dependency theory suggests it may arise from external pathways entering metadata, causing confusion in self-boundaries.
· Philosophical Zombies: Consciousness is not a “byproduct” of physical processes but an “inevitable intrinsic property” of complex physical systems possessing path dependency and metadata integration.

Why has consciousness remained elusive? Because people often search for it solely within three-dimensional space—from molecules to quanta. Yet, consciousness itself exists within three-dimensional space plus the dimension of time. Contemporary theories—global workspace, integrated information, predictive processing, etc.—when combined, resemble the three-dimensional holographic projection of four-dimensional spacetime consciousness.

End.
December 3, 2025
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