In this uplifting episode recorded at La Jolla landmark D.G. Wills Books, neuroscientists Bernie Baars & David Edelman unpack the nature of consciousness — the ineffable sense of ‘aboutness’ each one of us experiences that encompasses features of the outside world, your own thoughts, recollections, and emotions, all of which mysteriously — yet inevitably — arise from the coordinated firing of neurons in the cerebral cortex and other regions of the brain. 
David reads from Bernie's new book, “On Consciousness: Science & Subjectivity - Updated Works on Global Workspace Theory."
Bernie and David begin by considering the problem of subjectivity — in particular, the tortuous twenty-five centuries-long struggle to place it within a scientific framework and at the same time reconcile such an endeavor with everyday first-hand descriptions of human experience. They conclude that a major roadblock has been the tendency to set aside or even actively dismiss subjective descriptions in the quest to tease out some kind of objective truth about the nature of conscious experience.
To underscore the idea that we can, in some sense, square the objective, physical attributes of the world with their subjective representation in the brain, Bernie and David mull over the perception of color as one example of a subjective transform of an objective phenomenon—namely, the differences in wavelengths of light. Given that the human visual system filters certain physical properties of light (as humans, we can’t perceive light wavelengths less than 380nm or greater than 740nm, nor can we perceive polarized light), our conscious perception of the visual world must necessarily be subjective in nature and, considering our individual differences (e.g., how we’re each uniquely embodied), entirely unique to, and privileged for, each of us. 
Bernie and David then move on to ethical and evolutionary considerations inspired by attempts to come to grips with the existence and nature of consciousness in non-human animals. Given the ancient moral and ethical underpinnings of human culture, they suggest that the evolutionary story of consciousness must necessarily be linked to considerations of how we treat non-human animals.
Based on neuroanatomical, neurophysiological, and behavioral similarities between mammals and birds, it seems likely that a large number of animals are capable of conscious experience. In fact, the complex nervous systems and sophisticated behavioral repertoires of some animals quite distant from the vertebrate line (i.e., the octopus) suggest that a faculty for consciousness may well be quite ancient and extend to at least a few branches of complex life. Accordingly, Bernie and David reinforce the ethical dilemma that non-human consciousness poses.
How do we reconcile our treatment of non-human animals with the idea that, like us, many of these beings are capable of feeling pain and experiencing a broad palette of emotions?
To conclude the discussion, Bernie and David ponder the critical role of memory in consciousness and consider the problem of limited capacity – the idea that your nervous system can only handle so much information and processing tasks at once. In regard to memory, Bernie points to the importance of the cerebral cortex—the ‘central store’ for conscious contents—for engendering states of awareness in humans and non-human mammals.
He further notes that conscious contents are always internally consistent, despite the fact that very different—and quite often inconsistent—streams of information may be impinging on your senses all at once. In other words, the brain builds an internally consistent story about the world—even if certain strands of that story don’t make sense from an external perspective. Why is this the case? 
Regarding limited capacity, Bernie suggests that it is biologically paradoxical. For example, the selective awareness that comes with limited capacity can sometimes result in people walking into traffic while talk