No, actually, it doesn't.
What you're doing when you're driving a car involves both "types" of processes (which is actually not an accurate way of looking at it, though, when you get down to it).
Okay, so why is it not accurate?
Some of this may be labeling, and if it's labeling, there's no real conflict. My point is that when I'm driving my car while going through a shopping list, the same brain parts are involved in doing the driving as the parts involved in doing the driving when I'm paying attention to it. The difference isn't that there's a "conscious way" to do it and an "unconscious way" to do it--the difference is, rather, that when I'm paying attention to it, the information is getting fed to different modules.
When you're driving, you're using all sorts of brain functions that go on outside of any conscious awareness of them.
Yes.
But there's also information being fed into conscious awareness, and presumably there is a feedback mechanism which allows information to be fed from there back into the system -- because if your conscious awareness served no purpose in what you were doing, evolution would not have bothered with it.
But I never claimed that conscious awareness served no purpose. Those other modules that get the information when I'm conscious of it can also play a role in changing what happens--redirecting things. Furthermore, even if they don't, they can do things
with the information--like, report on it.
So there's this continual interaction between what's going on inside and outside your awareness, so to speak, all the time.
Agreed, except for the fact that the interactions only occur when they need to occur. So "continual" I take with a grain of salt.
If you, for whatever reason, bother to think, "I am driving" and begin to really pay close attention to what you're doing, it simply changes the mix of information that is being handled by the processes in your brain that enable conscious awareness.
Sure, but this changed "mix" is, in essence, a communication line being drawn to other processes.
ETA: When I'm talking about conscious processes, I'm not talking about the tasks we're accomplishing while we're conscious; I'm speaking of the biomechanisms in the brain that all us to be conscious of whatever it is we're doing.
Sure, but no single module is responsible for this thing.
What I'm referring to is what's going on at a mid-level.
...
Once all that physical jumble is sorted out into a stable image of the world, then what you perceive might be "I've never seen that mug before, why is it in my cubicle?" or "Darn it, I forgot to empty my mug on Friday and now it's got a layer of mold on it", or some other bundle of associations that hits you all at once.
The problem here is that this "stable image of the world" just plain
does not describe what we do when we look at things. The overall mechanics of vision are known. We have a tremendously complex visual cortex. We use the environment itself to cheat (hence, inattentional blindness, change blindness, and the like). We don't actually chew on a "scene" that we form in our heads--what we do, instead, is an interactive process.
The phrase
sounds alright... "once all that physical jumble is sorted out into a stable image of the world"... it just simpy turns out that this doesn't describe what actually happens.
And a key mechanism that bridges the space between the fundamental sorting out of the raw image, on the one hand, and those ideas that bubble up in your awareness, on the other, is the process of matching sensory patterns you're experiencing now with others you've experienced before.
I'm not denying that pattern matching happens. I'm just pointing out that it's more complicated than that--what happens is interactive. It's a lot closer to hypothesis formation and testing than it is just pattern matching applied to a scene. Part of the "testing" process involves triggering eye movements--saccades--in particular directions, to bring other portions of the scene into focus.
Well, if you pay too much attention to your shopping list, you risk passing over too much of the task to non-conscious processing. ...
If you're driving on a route you travel frequently, and nothing unexpected happens, you can likely do fine "on autopilot".
But there are things I do on "autopilot" even when driving in unfamiliar areas. And there are times when I become aware of those things. In particular, I drive a stick shift, and I'm almost never concentrating on the details of shifting gears. Even if I'm trying to find something and I'm completely lost, trying to scan for landmarks and what have you, figuring out whether I want to turn at the next right, and so forth, I don't focus on the gear shifting. That's autopilot. Even
less often do I focus on how and when I squeeze my hand while moving from the wheel to the gear shift in order to get a hold on it.
And as a gvim user, I may strategize about how I'm going to edit a piece of text (especially when I process data), but I very rarely think about which key sequences I need to type in order to carry out the particular commands. Those are autopilot as well.
So even when I'm
fully focused on a task at hand, the subtasks can be disconnected from my conscious processing. All I care about is going from here to there, turning right to see what's behind that building--or all I care about is making this stuff line up with that stuff so I can yank out this block of text, and shoving it to the left so I can sort it. These things that I care about are generally all that registers in my "conscious" mind--the rest "just happen".
And even when I'm asleep, I might feel a chill, and grab the blanket and roll into it. That's nearly about as minimal as it gets. But something inside me is able to perceive the blanket, and is aware that in order to solving the problem of the chill, I can roll into that blanket.
What I'm arguing is that this is ubiquitous in the brain--and when we become "aware" of something, there's not a different thing taking over. Rather, the same thing is in control, and a different thing is "hooked in", which can utilize the information--to either do something else with it, or interact with it. And these things communicate certain levels of information with each other--the same sorts of information that the original modules need to accomplish the feat in the first place (blankets, blocks of text, gear the car is in, gear-shift-controls-the-gear, etc).
I remember once when I was very emotionally upset about something, playing things over in my mind, and I took a left turn in a parking lot, right in the path of a truck, which I was looking straight at but literally did not see until the driver honked his horn.
Then again, if you were
less focused on the emotional upset, you could have avoided the truck without ever remembering that you did it. But that's because you'd have the resources necessary to
see the truck: ...
There was no way that my eyes could have missed it, but I was using up too much of my conscious processing power with my thoughts, and wasn't aware of it at all until the horn sounded.
Well, your
eyes aren't involved in the first place. Your brain is--it's not your eyes' job to recognize the truck, but your brain's. And your brain does that by registering something about the scene, scanning it, forming hypotheses, testing them, feeding them back into the low level processing, etc, until you register that the truck is there. And if you didn't go through the work, as shocking as it may be to hear this, you may
not ever see the truck, even if you're staring right at it.
ETA: Another driving example.... You can drive from work to home while chatting with a friend just fine, without really paying attention to what you're doing. But if you're going someplace unfamiliar, even if you've thoroughly memorized the directions, you can't do it without a much greater proportion of the task being handled consciously. Which is why we turn down the radio when we're looking for an address -- we literally need the processing power that's being taken up by the radio.
Sure, and if there's a snowy slush on the road, I become very aware of what gear I'm in. But otherwise, even when I'm lost, I'm typically not paying attention to that.