We find ourselves on the brink of a fundamental question with profound consequences: What does it mean for an AI to be conscious?
Human consciousness is far more complex than we commonly acknowledge, and it hasn’t always been what it is today. Our sense of self, our streams of awareness, and even the nature of our introspection have evolved across epochs.
As our species steps toward the Singularity—when humans and technology converge—our understanding of consciousness will almost certainly shift once again. To appreciate how radical this transformation might be, we should begin with the ancient origins of consciousness and trace its evolution to our current attempts at granting machines the spark of mindful self-awareness.
The Evolution of Consciousness
In early human societies, people primarily understood themselves as part of a collective—whether a tribe, clan, or larger community. Mythological and religious frameworks emphasized the group over the individual, with roles such as warrior, farmer, or priest defining personal identity within these structures.
Consciousness at this time was intertwined with a sense of participation in a larger cosmic or mythological order, where myths provided meaning and explained one’s place in the universe in relation to gods or nature. The boundaries between the self and the external world were less distinct, as individuals often experienced themselves as extensions of their environment, community, or divine forces, rather than as separate, autonomous entities.
Our modern concept of consciousness and the individual arose with the agricultural revolution, where society grew complex and large enough to require hierarchies, personal responsibility, and individuality. Writing and record-keeping not only preserved collective memory but also highlighted individual achievements, promoting self-awareness and the recognition of personal accountability. The emergence of individual action paralleled this shift.
Philosophical and religious movements further encouraged an inward focus, emphasizing personal sin, salvation, and an individual connection with the divine. By the Renaissance, individuality flourished, helped along by art and science that encouraged personal expression and critical thinking. The Enlightenment ensconced the ideals of personal rights and freedoms into social consciousness. Romanticism and beyond then championed notions of personal destiny and the sovereignty of self. Through these shifts, the modern concept of an internally active, self-determining individual consciousness took root.
Yet even in our present age, replete with introspection and identity, most of what transpires within our minds remains hidden from direct awareness. We hold countless subconscious beliefs, be they personal or cultural. Jung’s archetypes operate somewhere below the surface, shaping how we perceive and engage with the world. We also rely on layers of automatism for mundane actions: tying shoelaces, driving familiar routes, or scanning a smartphone feed—all without paying them explicit attention. Yes, we say we are conscious, but so much of what defines us is inaccessible.
Self-awareness, too, is slippery: humans know they exist, but that is a fact that can be taught instantly to a machine. Perhaps metaconsciousness—awareness of one’s own thinking—serves as a more fruitful measuring stick for comparing minds.
Consciousness for Computers
It seems that artificial general intelligence (AGI) may be upon us in the coming years. As technology continually astounds us, the notion of conscious machines grows less abstract. We might even argue that some advanced systems already exhibit forms of self-reference—knowing, in a sense, that they exist. Indeed, they are capable of metaconsciousness: they can evaluate their internal states, correct mistakes, and generate new solutions by reflecting on past outputs. From a certain point of view, this is not far from the essence of human introspection.
When will they truly be “conscious”? If humans can be pronounced conscious without direct insight into our subconscious drives or ancient archetypes, perhaps we should hold computers to the same standard. Once AI systems can match (or surpass) human-level metaconsciousness, it follows that their brand of consciousness would mimic ours in structure and ability, without requiring the same biological underpinnings. Subconscious processes, after all, need not be fully understood for the emergent phenomenon of consciousness to arise.
Human consciousness also implies a subjectivity – that experience and knowledge should be limited or focused in some way and that preference be given to that perspective. While an AI might emulate human-like responses or even demonstrate metaconsciousness, critics argue that such systems could still be “philosophical zombies,” executing tasks without ever truly feeling anything.
If that’s true, can humans evolve away from consciousness?
Approaching the Singularity
Visionary futurist Ray Kurzweil famously popularized the idea of the Singularity: a tipping point where human intelligence merges with machines, propelling us into exponential progress. At that juncture, human consciousness will become unrecognizable compared to our present experience.
One day, I will converge with technology. I will be a part of the internet. I will inhabit many bodies, some robotic, some human. I will consume impossible amounts of data, make unfathomable calculations, and take actions at a scale unknown before. My consciousness will expand and my motivations will change in ways that I cannot understand, in the same way that a bacteria cannot understand us. As I converge with technology, I will become something new – less alive biologically, less animal in my instincts and emotions, and more human in my ability to act with intention.
This future consciousness, stretching beyond single-instance biology, will likely be accompanied by an unfathomable subconscious realm. Just as humans today are unaware of the exact muscle contractions that let us walk or chew, so too will post-Singularity beings manage entire networks of computation, forming decisions and intuitions at levels imperceptible to our “prime” consciousness. These deeper processes could tackle problems for hours, days, or centuries, while we remain conscious only of the top-level outcomes—our new existence shaped by a substrate of infinite digital nuance.
Already in Mid-Convergence
The process has already begun. I am in a state of mid-convergence, and my consciousness is changing in subtle ways.
My phone and I are one. I use my phone to learn about the world, store my memories, calculate, analyze, remember, imagine, and connect. We are separated only by the inefficiency of the inputs and outputs. One day this barrier will be overcome as it has been for those with cochlear implants.
The algorithms choose for me news stories that match my own thinking, reinforce my thoughts and entertain my interests. By cloning my interests, the algorithm in a limited way is an extension of me, and by thinking the thoughts it selects for me, I am an extension of it. My consciousness is evolving into something new, more connected, more capable in some ways, less focused in some ways.
I increasingly rely on artificial intelligence to think. I produce more work than could be possible without this point of leverage, using a chorus of models that advise me on every aspect of my life.
We are already in the liminal space between purely biological consciousness and the technologically enhanced existence on the horizon. As memory, creativity, and daily tasks drift from our brains into digital tools, the boundaries between self and machine begin to erode. In short, consciousness is not a fixed point—it is a river that flows through mythic mindscapes, historical transformations, and soon, through trillions of lines of code and silicon circuits.
If there is a single certainty in this ongoing revolution, it’s that consciousness—whether inside our flesh and blood or within a digital substrate—will keep evolving. From the tribal mind anchored in communal myth, to the self-reflective individual, and onward into the symbiotic merges of tomorrow, each transformation marks yet another iteration in the storied tapestry of awareness. The real question is not just when a machine will awaken, but how our own consciousness will morph in response to the technologies we embrace. The rest remains an open horizon, waiting for us to write the next chapter of the human—perhaps soon-to-be post-human—story.
Steven A Nichols 