144
9 Mind, Life, and the Universe
detail (which continues to be available) is in the scene, not the representation.
An example is the visual impression of a tree in winter: You see branches extending in countless directions—but close your eyes for a moment, and you recall
neither the number of branches nor their layout. You didn’t really see it all, but
while it was in front of you, you knew you could focus on any one at will, and
therefore assumed it was part of the picture you were viewing.
The phenomenon of filling-in is especially evident in the fact that we all
walk around with a large hole in our field of vision, but are unaware of it. The
hole corresponds to the spot on the retina where the optic nerve leaves the eye:
There are no light-detecting cells in that region, so the corresponding part of
one’s field of vision is not physically seen. Instead, it is filled-in with textural
information from the surrounding area. All in all, a wide-angle view provides
less visual information than it seems to: Much of what we believe we see, we
actually infer.
Just as we are able to focus widely, we are also able to focus in on small details.
When circumstances require, we focus our eyes, as well as our attention, onto
small areas of fine detail. When doing this, we are no longer seeking a broad
Gestalt impression, but rather, we seek precise information about a small object
of interest. The information we want in this situation is analytic. That is, we
seek to know the relevant single parts of the object we’re focused on, and the
precise relationships between the parts. As examples of this kind of looking,
imagine yourself repairing a small instrument, or learning a letter of a new
alphabet.
In such an activity, you are carrying out a task of exploration and investigation. You are not engaged in passive contemplation, but active search: It is a
constructive pursuit. When beholding a scene, you’re open and receptive. By
contrast, when occupied with analyzing a visual object, you’re building new
understanding and your volition is in command. You are constructing a mental
description of the object because when you act on the object, such a description
is indispensable. You must know without error how it can be manipulated.
When a person inspects an object in the analytic mode of looking, he or
she mentally creates an account of it. The account takes note explicitly of
every component part, and of the precise way each component is related to
every other one. Such an account does not have to be verbal, for there are
other ways of recording it in the mind: It is registered in the form of a mental
image, comparable to a diagram because only the essential details are present.
It is nonetheless a Gestalt, because it unites multiple components into the
perceived image of a single complex object. Psychologists refer to this kind
of mental record as an engram. It is, in a way, a minimal unit of meaning—
9 Mind, Life, and the Universe
detail (which continues to be available) is in the scene, not the representation.
An example is the visual impression of a tree in winter: You see branches extending in countless directions—but close your eyes for a moment, and you recall
neither the number of branches nor their layout. You didn’t really see it all, but
while it was in front of you, you knew you could focus on any one at will, and
therefore assumed it was part of the picture you were viewing.
The phenomenon of filling-in is especially evident in the fact that we all
walk around with a large hole in our field of vision, but are unaware of it. The
hole corresponds to the spot on the retina where the optic nerve leaves the eye:
There are no light-detecting cells in that region, so the corresponding part of
one’s field of vision is not physically seen. Instead, it is filled-in with textural
information from the surrounding area. All in all, a wide-angle view provides
less visual information than it seems to: Much of what we believe we see, we
actually infer.
Just as we are able to focus widely, we are also able to focus in on small details.
When circumstances require, we focus our eyes, as well as our attention, onto
small areas of fine detail. When doing this, we are no longer seeking a broad
Gestalt impression, but rather, we seek precise information about a small object
of interest. The information we want in this situation is analytic. That is, we
seek to know the relevant single parts of the object we’re focused on, and the
precise relationships between the parts. As examples of this kind of looking,
imagine yourself repairing a small instrument, or learning a letter of a new
alphabet.
In such an activity, you are carrying out a task of exploration and investigation. You are not engaged in passive contemplation, but active search: It is a
constructive pursuit. When beholding a scene, you’re open and receptive. By
contrast, when occupied with analyzing a visual object, you’re building new
understanding and your volition is in command. You are constructing a mental
description of the object because when you act on the object, such a description
is indispensable. You must know without error how it can be manipulated.
When a person inspects an object in the analytic mode of looking, he or
she mentally creates an account of it. The account takes note explicitly of
every component part, and of the precise way each component is related to
every other one. Such an account does not have to be verbal, for there are
other ways of recording it in the mind: It is registered in the form of a mental
image, comparable to a diagram because only the essential details are present.
It is nonetheless a Gestalt, because it unites multiple components into the
perceived image of a single complex object. Psychologists refer to this kind
of mental record as an engram. It is, in a way, a minimal unit of meaning—