What is the true value of consciousness? We often think of its value in practical terms: it helps us navigate the world, learn, and survive. But a philosopher from Kobe University is asking us to consider a different, more profound value: consciousness, in itself, is sublime.
In a paper published in the journal Ergo, Takuya Niikawa argues that consciousness possesses a powerful non-instrumental aesthetic value. He proposes that just as we stand in awe before a vast mountain range or a powerful storm, we can experience a similar feeling when we turn our attention inward.
The Argument from Awe
Niikawa’s argument is straightforward. He claims that an experience of awe provides a good reason to believe that the object of that experience is sublime. The sublime is an aesthetic quality that inspires a feeling of being overwhelmed, of facing something vast, powerful, and mysterious, often mixing pleasure with a hint of fear or insignificance.
He argues that he experiences this feeling of awe when he introspects on three specific features of consciousness.
Three Awe-Inspiring Features of Consciousness
According to Niikawa, these aspects, when considered with an “aesthetic attitude,” can inspire awe. The first is the deep mystery of consciousness. Why do we have subjective experiences at all? How does the physical brain create the private, inner world we all inhabit? This enduring puzzle, often called the “hard problem of consciousness,” remains deeply mysterious. Niikawa quotes 19th-century biologist Thomas Henry Huxley, who famously wrote:
How it is that anything so remarkable as a state of consciousness comes about as a result of irritating nervous tissue, is just as unaccountable as the appearance of the djinn when Aladdin rubbed his lamp in the story.
A second feature is its profound connection to well-being. Consciousness is the foundation for everything that matters to us; without it, there would be no joy, pain, love, or suffering. As Niikawa puts it, “the possession of consciousness makes its possessor’s life meaningful and worthy of living”.
Finally, he points to its incredible phenomenological complexity. Our conscious experience is not a chaotic flood of sensations but is instead highly structured and organized. Quoting psychologist William James, Niikawa notes that consciousness is not “‘a blooming, buzzing confusion’ … but a well-organized complex”.
But What if Others Don’t Feel It?
Niikawa anticipates skepticism. What if most people don’t feel awe when thinking about their own consciousness? He argues this does not defeat the idea. Appreciating this quality, much like appreciating complex contemporary art, may require effort and a certain level of understanding.
He suggests it is an “aesthetic achievement” that requires us to step back from our practical, everyday concerns and reflect on the nature of our minds.
Ethical Implications for the Value of Consciousness
The idea that consciousness is sublime has important ethical consequences. Typically, the moral status of a being is tied to its capacity for pleasure and pain (valenced experiences).
But what about a hypothetical being that has rich conscious experiences, like seeing colors and thinking complex thoughts, but cannot feel pleasure or pain? Some philosophers call these “valence-zombies”. According to the standard view, they might not deserve moral consideration because they can’t suffer.
Niikawa’s thesis offers a different perspective. If consciousness itself is sublime, then any being that possesses it has inherent aesthetic value. “To kill them means to eliminate instances of sublimity,” he writes, comparing it to “destroying pieces of sublime nature”. This provides a new reason to grant moral consideration even to conscious beings who cannot experience happiness or suffering.
This perspective enriches the philosophical discussion about the true value of consciousness, suggesting it might be as beautiful and awe-inspiring as the universe it allows us to perceive.
Source
- Niikawa, Takuya. 2025. “Consciousness is Sublime.” Ergo, an Open Access Journal of Philosophy 12 (28).
- https://doi.org/10.3998/ergo.7659