After Translating the Hidden Spring
After translating The Hidden Spring, written by Mark Solms into Korean
Around the age of 9, my mother was quite shaken after a meeting with my homeroom teacher. She learned that I was showing clear symptoms of ADHD. Despite this, I felt somewhat special, perhaps because I hadn’t received much attention due to my parents’ busy work schedules. As a temporary solution, they sent me to a small Chinese character academy in our neighborhood. Spending most of my days there with the instructor, I would alleviate my loneliness late into the night. Thanks to that experience, I still remember the wise sayings from classics like “Mencius” and “Four Books and Five Classics.”
Upon entering high school, I began to obsess over perfection. The content in textbooks felt insufficient, and I relentlessly pursued various questions. One memory still stands out: during Earth Science class, I realized the textbook lacked a proof of Kepler’s laws and became determined. I resolved to prove these laws and explain them to my teacher and classmates someday. After several sleepless nights, I studied proofs starting with Newtonian mechanics, progressing to Lagrangian and Hamiltonian mechanics1. Eventually, I managed to prove all of Kepler’s laws in a single class period (though the chalkboard was beautifully filled, most of my classmates were asleep). Repeated experiences like this led me to crave knowledge beyond what school or academies could offer.
There’s an event that stands out in my memory. It was when I persuaded my teacher and friends to plan a dissection experiment on a sheep’s brain. Convincing my busy academy friends, we carried out the dissection practice in the lab after school. We huddled together in silence, slicing through a sheep’s brain, which was even smaller than a clenched fist. It was nothing short of awe-inspiring. How could our logic and reason, intuition and emotions, joys and sorrows originate from such a small, damp object? I remember having numerous discussions and interviews with our life science teacher at the time. Far from finding answers, I often found myself sinking into deeper pits of inquiry. To broaden my limited perspective, I read books like Sigmund Freud’s “Die Traumdeutung,” Sylvia Nasar’s “A Beautiful Mind,” and Edward O. Wilson’s “Consilience.” Through Freud, I expanded the horizons of my analytical imagination regarding the mind; through Nasar, I glimpsed the tumultuous life of John Nash, a genius mathematician struggling with schizophrenia; and through Wilson, I found resonance with a materialistic approach2—embracing neuroscience, neurophysiology, artificial intelligence, and more.
I was fortunate to enroll in a university that allowed me to decide on my major after three semesters. I found it challenging to determine whether I should explore my questions within the realm of physics or life sciences (or perhaps medicine). In my second semester, I interned at a bioinformatics lab, where I became captivated by statistical modeling and big data analysis. During this time, I had the opportunity to take a physics class3 that was offered for the first time in four years. The class was small, with around five students, and I was the only Korean undergraduate. Struggling with the intense physical concepts, I began to dream of new theories about the mind and consciousness. By the end of my one-and-a-half-year grace period, I had decided to major in mathematics.
The reason I chose to major in mathematics was simple. Above all, I believed my questions were closer to philosophy than to science. Therefore, I needed tools and a way of thinking to do science—to create it—rather than the scientific knowledge itself. Additionally, as numerous fields such as neuroscience, psychology, and artificial intelligence deal with the enigma of the mind, I deeply resonated with the necessity of having a fundamental mindset that could comprehend all of these aspects. Entering the mathematics department allowed me to deeply study mathematical thinking and the formal development of theory, while simultaneously equipping me with the qualifications to study the philosophy of the mind as a background for crafting the science of the mind. After studying mathematics, I was surprised to find that philosophical analytical texts felt remarkably comfortable and accessible to me. I became increasingly enchanted by the elegance and simplicity of various arguments in the philosophy of science and psychology. If asked what the most memorable experience during my undergraduate years was, without a doubt, it would be the public lectures I created to introduce the fundamental mathematical forms of the mind and artificial intelligence algorithms, and the philosophical discourse related to them, titled “Mathematics for Artificial Intelligence4” and “Philosophy for Artificial Intelligence5.” Meanwhile, my bachelor’s thesis was on “A Topological Analysis of the Learning Process in Artificial Neural Networks,” where I developed tools to capture the structural changes6 occurring in a virtual brain.
As graduation approached, my interest expanded beyond the problems related to the human mind—consciousness, perception, emotion, memory, etc.—to the essential structure and practical applications of technologies based upon it—cybernetics, optimal control theory, decision theory, machine learning, artificial intelligence, and so on. Intriguingly, the deeper my understanding of mathematical forms and philosophical discourse became, the more acutely I felt the uncomfortable realities of technology and the importance of ethical decision-making. Especially in the field of artificial intelligence, where vigorous research is ongoing, I noticed that the majority of approaches not only clashed with the functioning of living organisms7 but were also actually inefficient8. Moreover, I realized that society’s interest lies far more in how these technologies can be meaningfully utilized on the battlefield to gain an advantage, or commercialized in the market to accelerate consumption, than in understanding their mechanisms and considering the ethical implications. This realization only fueled my determination. In seeking the answers to the workings of the mind, I began to analyze the fundamental composition of artificial intelligence and the principles of machine operation. The persistent questions from my youth, in their quest for ultimate understanding of the mind, became a driving force not just for comprehension but for contemplation of the ultimate direction technology should take, inspiring dreams of a better, more advanced humanity.
To seek the formal commonalities between theoretical neuroscience and artificial intelligence technology, I began to delve into the works of renowned professors from abroad. I started with Marcello Massimini’s “Nulla di piu grande” and Giulio Tononi’s “Phi,” moving on to Anil Seth’s “Being You,” Antonio Damasio’s “The Feeling & Knowing,” Nicholas Humphrey’s “The Sentience,” Amaral Shunichi’s “Brain, Mind, Artificial Intelligence,” and Max Tegmark’s “Life 3.0.” As I read through a plethora of books, I imagined the theory of the mind and the mind of the machine. In Korea, Kim Ju-Hwan’s “Inner Communication” and the “Hypnosis Bible” by Song Kang-Myun and An Min-Sook also proved to be of great help. Most of these books referred to Karl Friston’s Free Energy Principle or Active Inference in the field of theoretical neuroscience. Professor Friston was certainly a prominent figure in neuroscience/medicine, but, astonishingly, he was also well-versed in mathematics9 and physics10, and furthermore, he possessed deep insights into various engineering11 approaches. In fact, through several papers, I became convinced that his theory could serve as an elegant and clear foundational framework that analytically elucidates the relationship between body, mind, and action.
Dreaming of a systematic understanding of the mind and complete liberation from the questions that have followed me since childhood, and at the same time, envisioning the advent of more efficient and socially responsible machines, I am committed to realizing my beliefs. This work is part of that effort. By chance, I came into contact with Jang Hyun-woo, president of the Korean Association for the Consciousness Sciences(KACS), who is currently a doctoral student in neuroscience, and learned of new translation works12. Moreover, I was excited about the opportunity to participate in translating a work by Giulio Tononi, whose book “Phi” I had enjoyed in the past, especially since it was being translated by the psychiatrist Ryeo Won-gi, who I admired. Ultimately, I wanted to be involved because the book deals with the challenging and personally significant issue of consciousness from the perspective of active inference. Although I lack expertise in neurophysiology or clinical medicine, I am confident in my mathematical, physical, and computer science knowledge based on active inference, so I took a chance and asked for understanding, hoping it would not be presumptuous. Fortunately, they graciously accepted the co-translation offer, and I found it rewarding to help with the translation during my spare time after work and on weekends. As both doctors had already translated the draft so well, it was easy to make revisions, check for typos, and adjust the tone of the translation. I sincerely thank Ryeo Won-gi and Jang Hyun-woo for their greater passion and determination in response to my infrequent feedback and complicated answers. It was a happy time, allowing me to gain an unforgettable and valuable experience.
Meanwhile, I am currently creating and managing various cultures that dream of the future of consciousness science and artificial intelligence. Participating in an internship program at the Active Inference Institute, the largest community related to active inference, I became the first Korean to undertake the Ontology project, translating the core terms of the Free Energy Principle and Active Inference. Recently, I have corresponded with Professor Karl Friston in the fields of Neural Computation and Optimal Control Theory, which has seriously prompted me to prepare for the option of studying abroad. Additionally, through the Korean Association for the Consciousness Science, I planned the “Brain-Mind-Behavior” initiative, which carries the following manifesto. This initiative consists of three main activities: a book reading group, a theoretical consciousness science group, and a paper reading group. The theoretical consciousness science group aims to deeply study the theory of active inference. Through this, we aim to study the core themes of body, mind, and action, imagine the potential for development with other fields including artificial intelligence, and hope to initiate the driving force that dreams of a better humanity, deeply contemplating the ultimate direction that technology should take, centered in Korea.
conscious activity are a key feature that allows us to distinguish ourselves from other species. However, the nature and mechanisms of consciousness remain an unresolved, complex mystery. Our goal is to solve this problem using scientific methods and to understand the essence of the mind-brain-behavior nexus.
Our efforts are carried out through a multidisciplinary approach: scholars and experts from diverse fields such as mathematics/philosophy, physics/psychology, computer science/neuroscience come together to analyze and deconstruct the fundamental aspects of consciousness. The analyses produced are then related to the questions of biology and philosophy.
We emphasize the importance of consciousness research and aim to expand our social impact through ongoing meetings and content sharing. Furthermore, in the process of achieving our goals, we aspire to contribute to scientific research and ethical issues related to hypnosis, augmented reality, future artificial intelligence, animal consciousness, and artificial sentient entities.
1: I only came to realize much later that it was part of the “Classical Mechanics” subject in the university physics curriculum.
2: Edward O. Wilson’s “Consilience,” Chapter 6 “The Mind”.
3: Professor Seung-Hwan Kim, the inaugural president of the Korean Computational Neuroscience Society, on “Nonlinear Dynamics and Chaos Theory.”
I remember spending time reading Erwin Schrödinger’s “What is Life?” and Jacques Monod’s “Chance and Necessity.”
4: “Mathematics for AI” link
5: “Philosophy for AI” link
6: Here, “structure” refers to the macroscopic topological structure. Have you ever heard that a donut is homeomorphic to a mug?
7: Of course, it is possible that the operating principles of living organisms and artificial intelligence algorithms do not necessarily need to be aligned. However, I want to emphasize that there are very few attempts to analyze the relationship between the two and to find a better direction. See Chapter 1 of Professor Geoffrey Hinton’s “The Forward-Forward Algorithm: Some Preliminary Investigations” for reference.
8:
Refer to Amaral Shunichi’s “Brain, Mind, Artificial Intelligence.” A computer consumes 175 watts per hour, a light bulb 60 watts, but the human brain uses only about 12 watts.
9: Information theory, statistics, information geometry, and more.
10: Classical mechanics, statistical mechanics and thermodynamics, and the arguments of E. T. Jaynes, among others.
11: Statistical learning theory and reinforcement learning theory in the field of machine learning, along with cybernetics and optimal control theory, among others.
12: President Jang Hyun-woo has previously translated Euan Squires’ “The Conscious Mind in the Physical World,” Antti Revonsuo’s “Foundations of Consciousness,” Gerald Edelman’s “A Universe of Consciousness,” and Susan Blackmore’s “Conversations on Consciousness.” I have read all of these works, and they have been immensely helpful in understanding the key themes related to consciousness.
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