A Not Very Philosophical Zombie

“You can’t explain conscious experience on the cheap.”
David Chalmers, Facing Up to the Problem of Consciousness.

I never really knew Brian. He was a neighbor, that was all. I didn’t
know his wife, Cynthia, either, but I reached out to her when I heard
the news about her husband. I mean, imagine finding out you’ve been
married to — making love to — a man who was never conscious.

Not that Cynthia believes it. Me, personally, I have to side with the
experts on the matter, but I can’t blame her for not wanting to face
the truth. I’m not sure I would be capable of facing it either in her
position. Of course I’ll never tell her what I really think about
Brian, what I have always suspected. Anyway, given how things turned
out, I’m glad I kept my thoughts to myself.

Well, I did talk about Brian with my son a while back, way before the
hit-and-run incident. It had to be during the summer of 2020 because
we’d just walked home together from a socially-distanced block party
— because of course it would take a deadly global pandemic to get
Alex to go with me to a neighborhood function. I remember the sun had
just set, and I had gotten a late start on dinner. At some point I’d
asked Alex if he’d noticed anything strange about Brian.

“Huh unh,” Alex said, gazing into his phone. “Why?”

He must’ve been hungry because instead of immediately going back to
his room, he’d taken a seat at the kitchen counter.

“It’s nothing,” I said, passing behind him to open a drawer. I did not succeed in resisting the temptation to sneak a peek over my son’s shoulder at his screen. “Who’s Alison?”

“A friend.”

“From the U of A?”

He nodded noncommittally and continued typing, erasing, typing.

I stared into the freezer, relishing the icy vapor against my cheeks
before grabbing a bag of orange chicken.

“You know,” Alex said, “actually, I think I know what you mean. Brian’s like a walking
Hallmark card. His jokes are just a little too… appropriate.”

Adultness was what Alex was noticing, but he seemed so pleased with
his observation that I didn’t have the heart to reject it. “I don’t
know. Hey, listen, I know you’re not one to chat up the neighbors, but
can we keep this stuff we’re saying about Brian between us?”

“Sure,” Alex said.

“I just don’t want —”

“I know, mom. I won’t say anything.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Alex’s phone dinged. He smiled down at his screen and tapped a one-emoji response.

“I don’t know why I’m even thinking about this,” I went on, “but it’s
like with Brian there’s something missing.”

Alex’s phone dinged again.

I went on talking, apparently to myself. “This is gonna sound strange,
but it’s like there’s nothing going on inside, …

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