- seCtIon one: tHe PRoBLem
 ride your bike is a quale (pronounced kwar-lay). The sight of the bluey pink of the
 sunset sky is a quale. The indescribable chill of delight you experience every time
 you hear that minor chord is a quale.
 The term was first used in this context by the American philosopher and logician
 Charles Sanders Peirce in 1866, and then in 1929 was adapted by a student of
 William James’s, Clarence Irving Lewis, who defined qualia as the fundamental
 building blocks of specifically sensory experience – a slant it retains to this day
 (Keeley, 2009). The concept of qualia has become mired in confusion, but the
 basic idea is clear enough. The term comes from the Latin qualis (of what kind
 or qualities) and is used to emphasise quality: to get away from talking about
 physical properties or descriptions, and to point to experience itself. A quale is
 what something is like (in the sense explained above). Conscious experience can
 be thought of as consisting of qualia, and then ‘The problem of consciousness is
 identical with the problem of qualia, because conscious states are qualitative states
 right down to the ground. Take away the qualia and there is nothing there’ (Searle,
 1998, p. 21, original italics). The problem of consciousness can thus be rephrased
 in terms of how qualia relate to the physical world, or how objective brains and
 bodies produce subjective qualia. There are many possible ways of constructing
 an answer to the question posed in this way. The substance dualist believes that
 qualia (e.g. the smell of coffee) are part of a separate mental world from physical
 objects (e.g. pots of coffee or brains). The epiphenomenalist believes that qualia
 exist but have no causal properties. The idealist believes that everything is ulti-
 mately qualia. The eliminative materialist denies that qualia exist, and so on.
 You may think it unquestionable that qualia exist. After all, you are right now
 experiencing smells, sounds, and sights, and these are your own ineffable qualia,
 aren’t they? Many theorists would agree with you, but many others would not.
 The disagreements come about partly because people define the term in differ-
 ent ways: they may use it to refer (amongst other things) to qualities of experience
 in general, to qualities of sensory experience in particular, to distinct irreducible
 nuggets of experience, or to ineffable qualities about which their experiencing
 subjects cannot be mistaken.
 In his essay ‘Quining qualia’, Daniel Dennett sets out ‘to convince people that
 there are no such properties as qualia’ (1988, p. 42), and what he rejects is this last
 use of the term. Dennett ‘throws the qualic baby out with the bath water’, says
 British psychologist Jeffrey Gray (2004, p. 153). However, Dennett does not deny
 the reality of conscious experience as something that has properties, nor does he
 deny that we say things and make judgements about our own experiences. What
 he does deny is the existence of the ineffable, intrinsic, private, directly apprehen-
 sible ‘raw feels’ that he claims people tend to mean when they talk about qualia.
 Dennett provides many ‘intuition pumps’ (his term for thought experiments
 designed to draw intuitions to the surface) to undermine this natural way of
 thinking. Here is a simple one. The experienced beer drinker says that beer is an
 acquired taste. When he first tried beer he hated the taste, but now he has come
 to love it. But which taste does he now love? No one could love that first taste – it
 tasted horrible. So, he must love the new taste, but what has changed? If you think
 that there are two separate things here, the actual quale (the way it really tastes
 to him) and his opinion about the taste, then you must be able to decide which
‘the smell of spices
as you walk past a
restaurant, the taste of
chocolate, the sensation
of jumping into a cold
swimming pool or
relaxing in a hot bath’
(Andrade, 2012, p. 579)
‘[Q]ualia [. . .] never
really existed [. . .].
There are no atoms,
no nuggets of
consciousness’
(Metzinger, 2009, pp. 50–51)
