A Functional Model of Consciousness: A New Architecture of the Mind

Main Thesis: Previous attempts to define consciousness have stalled in a philosophical impasse. To move beyond it, we must abandon the question “What is it?” in favor of the engineering question, “What does it do?”. In this chapter, I will present my new, functional model of the mind as a multi-layered architecture, in which the subjective sense of “self” is the emergent sensation of a central information processing loop in action—an objective signal that the system is active.

10.1. The Graveyard of Elegant Theories: Why We Are Stuck

Consciousness is the greatest mystery of science and the final bastion of metaphysics. It is a phenomenon so close to us that it defines our very existence, yet so elusive that it evades all attempts at objective description. For decades, the sharpest minds—philosophers, neuroscientists, physicists, and computer scientists—have tried to capture its essence within a coherent theory. The result is a fascinating intellectual landscape that, up close, resembles a graveyard of beautiful ideas. Each is elegant, each contributes something of value, but ultimately, none has led us to our goal.

The purpose of this chapter is not to add another tombstone to this collection. The purpose is to understand why all previous paths lead nowhere, and then to propose a radical change in perspective: let’s stop asking what consciousness is, and start asking what it does and how we can measure it.

10.1.1. The Great Sorting: Three Blind Alleys of Consciousness Research

Most contemporary theories of consciousness, despite their apparent differences, fall into one of three traps. These are methodological and philosophical traps that, while expanding our knowledge of the brain, do not bring us any closer to understanding the experience itself.

Blind Alley One: The “Magical Ingredient” Seekers

This group of theories, in response to Chalmers’s “hard problem of consciousness,” searches for some “special” element of reality that is supposedly responsible for subjective experience.

Candidates: This group includes Property Dualism (consciousness as a fundamental property of matter), Panpsychism (consciousness as a ubiquitous feature of the universe; in practice: the belief that even a stone possesses some fundamental, primitive form of “feeling”), and in its most exotic form, the quantum theory of Orch-OR (in practice: an attempt to explain consciousness using exotic quantum physics occurring in neurons).

Fundamental Weakness: These theories do not solve the mystery—they merely transfer it to another, even more inaccessible place. Stating that consciousness is a fundamental property of a quark or a quantum effect is an act of faith, not a scientific explanation. These theories are, by definition, unfalsifiable and untestable. They provide no tools for building a conscious machine or for measuring consciousness in existing beings. This is an intellectual retreat into mysticism under the cloak of physics and philosophy.

Blind Alley Two: The Cartographers of Shadows

This group, representing the mainstream of neuroscience, rejects metaphysical speculation and focuses on what is measurable: the search for the Neural Correlates of Consciousness (NCC).

Candidates: Leading the pack here are the Global Workspace Theory (GWT/GNWT), which describes how information becomes globally available in the brain (in practice: consciousness as a “bulletin board” in the mind), and to some extent, Integrated Information Theory (IIT), which attempts to measure the complexity of neural interactions (in practice: an attempt to find a “mathematical formula” for consciousness).

We must, however, give this group of researchers their due. Their work, while perhaps not answering the ultimate question of “why we feel,” is of enormous importance. It is thanks to these “cartographers” that our knowledge of brain physiology and the mechanisms underlying perception, attention, and memory is developing at an exponential rate. Their discoveries have direct applications in medicine, enabling the diagnosis and potential treatment of disorders of consciousness, and they also create the solid, empirical foundation without which any further discussion would be mere speculation.

Fundamental Weakness: Despite these enormous merits, these theories, studying neuron activity in an fMRI, are like ancient cartographers. They are mapping the shadows cast on a cave wall with incredible precision, but they cannot say anything about the nature of the objects casting those shadows. GWT perfectly explains how the brain manages access to information (access consciousness), but it does not explain why this access is accompanied by any subjective feeling. IIT measures the degree of integration, but its claim that integration is consciousness remains an unproven axiom. These theories describe the mechanisms that accompany consciousness, but they mistake them for the phenomenon itself.

Blind Alley Three: The Illusionists

This group, whose most prominent representative is Daniel Dennett, proposes the most radical solution: stating that the problem doesn’t exist.

Concept: Illusionism posits that phenomenal consciousness—our internal, subjective life—is a powerful illusion the brain generates for itself. The “hard problem” disappears because there is nothing to explain.

Fundamental Weakness: This solution, while intellectually coherent, is deeply unsatisfying because it negates the only data we have with absolute certainty—the existence of our own experience. This is an attempt to cure a headache by decapitation. Dismissing the problem is not solving it; it is an act of intellectual surrender.

10.1.2. The Pragmatic Pivot: From Metaphysics to Engineering

Since all previous paths lead to a wall—metaphysical speculation, incomplete correlations, or denial of the obvious—perhaps we are asking the wrong question. Instead of asking “What IS consciousness?”, let’s ask a more productive, engineering question: “What does consciousness DO, and how can we compare its CAPABILITIES in different systems?”

This moves us from the swamp of philosophy onto the solid ground of functional analysis. Such an approach allows us to create a useful, measurable definition, which is essential for having a sensible discussion about artificial intelligence.

10.2. The Pragmatic Pivot: From “What is it?” to “What does it do?”

To escape the labyrinth of philosophical disputes where previous theories have stalled, we must make a key, organizing distinction. Using the single word “consciousness” to describe both the subjective feeling of existence and the functional ability to process information is the source of chaos in this debate. Therefore, for the purpose of our analysis, we will use two precise, complementary terms: Consciousness of Self and Cognitive Consciousness. Consciousness of Self is the subjective, first-person experience of existence—the internal sense of “being” that constitutes the central philosophical mystery. Cognitive Consciousness is the measurable, objective capability of a system to receive, process, and understand information.

In this chapter, we will focus on defining and mapping precisely this Cognitive Consciousness, as it is the key to understanding and comparing the capabilities of different forms of intelligence. I propose we begin describing it as a multidimensional, measurable spectrum of abilities. It should not be confused with the often-perceived mysterious, binary “spark” of Consciousness of Self, whose nature we will address later. Any system—biological or artificial—can be placed on a map defined by two axes:

The Scope Axis (Breadth) of Cognitive Consciousness

This is the “quantitative” dimension, describing the window through which the system perceives reality. It is defined by the number and bandwidth of sensory channels. A human has a wider scope of visual consciousness than a dog (we see more colors), but a narrower scope of olfactory consciousness. An AI system connected to thousands of cameras and sensors around the world would have an unimaginably broad scope of perception.

The Depth Axis (Understanding) of Cognitive Consciousness

This is the “qualitative” dimension, describing the system’s ability to make sense of raw data using its existing knowledge and mental models. A person who knows a language has a depth of understanding that allows them to perceive the meaning of words, whereas for someone who doesn’t know the language, it is just incomprehensible noise. Possessing deep knowledge of quantum physics makes one conscious of the implications of equations that are, to a layperson, just a string of symbols. Depth is the capacity to understand.

Within Cognitive Consciousness, we can distinguish several key components that together create the richness of our experience. Their strength and precision depend on the entity that possesses them. The most important of them are:

• Sensory Consciousness: The ability to receive and interpret data from the external world through senses like sight or hearing.
• Body Model Consciousness: The ability to perceive and feel the state of one’s own body, as simulated by the brain. This is such a powerful and independent component that it can generate real sensations, such as pain, even in relation to a non-existent, “phantom” limb. Within this model, we also feel emotions—not as abstract concepts, but as physical changes in our body.
• Thought Consciousness (internal dialogue and metacognition): The ability to perceive one’s own thought processes, to plan, and to possess knowledge about one’s own knowledge.
• Imagination Consciousness: The ability to generate synthetic, nonexistent sensory experiences and scenarios.

The architecture of the mind integrates data from all these components into one, unified model of reality, which is then queried by our mind.

Conclusion

This functional definition of Cognitive Consciousness has one, key advantage over all others: it is useful. It gives us a solid, measurable foundation from which we can approach this debate in a new, more productive way. Before we try to build a functional model of the self, we must first learn to ask specific, engineering questions about Cognitive Consciousness: “What is this system’s sensory scope? What depth of understanding does it possess in a given domain? Can it model its own states?”

Creating this common, measurable scale for different forms of intelligence is a prerequisite for any further, deeper discussion. This is precisely the tool we need to consciously shape our future with AI.

10.3. The Architecture of the Mind: The “Main Loop” Model

After moving past the graveyard of elegant yet ultimately useless theories of consciousness, we stand on cleared ground. Here, I want to propose a radically pragmatic approach and present my proprietary, functional model of the mind. I reject the search for a “magical ingredient,” proposing instead to treat the mind as the most perfect system ever created. The model I will unveil here is not a mystery, but a proposed engineering solution, brilliant in its simplicity. I call it The “Main Loop” Model.

10.3.1. The Perception Cascade: The Great Filter of Reality

The fundamental problem evolution had to solve is the problem of informational chaos. Every complex organism is incessantly flooded by a powerful river of sensory data. Without a mercilessly effective filtering mechanism, it would be instantly paralyzed. The architecture that arose in response to this challenge is a masterpiece of multi-level optimization.

The Survival Filter: The first, brutal thresholds of this river. They operate at the level of the brainstem, completely outside our consciousness. Their sole function is to instantly fish out and react to signatures of existential threat—anomalies in the environment that signal danger. It is an alarm that triggers before we even have time to think.

The Attention Filter: Further on, the river’s current encounters natural whirlpools that automatically pull it toward the most energetic phenomena: sudden movement, a loud sound, a human face in a crowd. This is an evolutionary prioritization mechanism that guarantees our limited attention will be directed toward what is most important from the standpoint of survival and social interaction.

The Cognitive Filter: The third stage is a network of intelligent, dynamic channels whose bandwidth is constantly calibrated by our subconscious goals and desires. This is what makes a person in love see the object of their affection everywhere, or a hungry person smell food from across the street. This filter combs through reality without our involvement, searching for data relevant to our current aspirations.

10.3.2. The Afterimage of Reality: The Sensory Buffer and the Spotlight of Focus

It would be a mistake to assume the mind tries to consciously process all filtered streams at once. Its architecture is far more sophisticated. Each moment of perception is like a camera flash in a dark room. For a fraction of a second, the entire sensory world is registered in the finest detail and saved in an ultrafast, yet fleeting sensory memory buffer. It is upon this fresh, richly detailed, but rapidly fading “afterimage” of reality that our mind operates.

In this room moves a single, powerful spotlight of conscious focus. Only the object, process, or thought upon which we direct this spotlight at any given moment is analyzed at full power. The rest of the scene does not disappear—it is sustained in our perception by the internal, predictive world model, creating the impression of a coherent, continuous reality. Our ability to instantly switch this spotlight from object to object creates the illusion that we perceive everything at once.

This is the mechanism that allows us, while focusing on our interlocutor’s face, to momentarily “return” to their words—we are not retrieving them from long-term memory, but rather directing the spotlight onto the acoustic echo still resonating in the buffer before it vanishes forever. The data from this illuminated point, in the context of the general world model, becomes the final, condensed multimodal prompt that is fed into the heart of our cognitive machinery.

10.3.3. The Central Processor: The Reasoning Mind and the Control Stream

This prompt is fed into the core of our system—to what we can call the reasoning mind. This is the powerful analytical and simulation engine. Its task is to process the received data packet and, in response, generate a continuous, dynamic stream of control data.

This stream is the mind’s will translated into action. It flows throughout the entire system, managing all mechanisms needed at that moment. It controls our muscles so we can act in the physical world. It activates memory reserves to provide context. And most importantly, one of its branches constantly calibrates the entire perception architecture—it instructs the filters on what to concentrate on and, crucially, directs the spotlight of focus in the next cycle. This is not a simple feedback loop. It is a dynamic, generative process in which the mind constantly analyzes the world and simultaneously, actively shapes the way it will perceive it in the very next moment.

10.3.4. The Signature of Existence: What is Self-Awareness?

And finally, what in this model is the feeling of existence—our Self-Awareness? In my theory, for the mind to coordinate its incredibly complex, distributed activity, it must generate a simple, global state signal that informs all its subsystems whether the Main Loop is active. This signal system_active=true is an architectural necessity. All specialized modules—from the visual cortex, through sensory centers, to memory systems—must know when to synchronize their operation and send data to the Main Loop and on to our mind’s central processor. The same signal, when inactive, is a communication for them to switch the entire system into a different operating mode, allowing for regenerative processes, which I will discuss shortly. This is an uninterrupted, physical process, an objective signature of working machinery, the fundamental resonance of existence.

The subjective experience of the signal signifying the operation of the Main Loop, system_active=true, is precisely what I call the Functional Core of Self.

10.3.5. Meditation: A Journey to the Source of Self-Awareness

Meditation, in its essence, is an extraordinary process of conscious reverse engineering of one’s own mind. It is a methodical journey deep into our cognitive architecture, with the goal of reaching the very core of experience by systematically “shutting down” the successive data streams that feed The Main Loop.

The practitioner begins by quieting the noisiest signals—the external filters. By focusing attention on a single point, such as the breath, they gradually restrict the inflow of data from the senses of sight and hearing. As the external world falls silent, attention turns inward, to sensations flowing from the body model. The meditator learns to observe and then extinguish reactions to these sensations—pain in the knees, an itch, the sense of position.

The next step is to quiet the internal dialogue and imagination—the constant stream of thoughts, plans, and memories. This is the most difficult stage, requiring the loop to be cut off from its own internally generated content. What remains when all these layers are peeled away? Experience in its purest, most raw form. It is the quiet, content-free sense of existence itself—the subjective experience of the “engine” itself running, the pure system_active=true signal. This is precisely that indicator we are talking about. And when, in a final act of focus, we cease to be aware of even this fundamental “hum” of existence, we cross the boundary—we fall asleep.

10.3.6. Sleep: When the Orchestra Tunes Its Instruments

Sleep is not a simple “shutdown” of the brain. It is a change in its operating mode, which our model explains perfectly. The moment of falling asleep is when The Main Loop, responsible for creating an integrated, conscious experience, is halted. The brain, as a unified orchestra, stops playing its common melody.

Excellent proof of this process is the phenomenon of hypnagogic thoughts—the illogical, fragmented images and thoughts that appear just before falling asleep. This is precisely us hearing the echo of individual instruments which, having disconnected from the conductor (The Main Loop), begin to play their own, chaotic notes.

Once The Main Loop is inactive, the brain switches to a mode that could be called “major housekeeping.” Its individual parts, freed from the duty of constantly reporting to headquarters, begin to work independently, performing key maintenance tasks:

• Memory (Hippocampus and Cortex): The consolidation process begins. Like a night librarian, the mind reviews the “books” of the past day, deciding which ones to move from the temporary reading room of short-term memory to the main archive of long-term memory.
• Reasoning (Prefrontal Cortex): Freed from the constraints of logical, conscious thought, the subsystems responsible for problem-solving can freely create new, non-obvious connections. This is why we often wake up in the morning with a ready solution to a problem we had struggled with unsuccessfully the previous day.
• Regeneration (Glymphatic System): At the physiological level, the entire brain undergoes a “cleaning” process. Mechanisms are activated that remove toxins and metabolic byproducts accumulated during the day, preparing the system for another day of intensive work.

10.4. The Mirror of Perception: The Inferred Self

The foundation of existence—that constant signal that our mind is active—is a necessary condition for consciousness, but it is not what we experience day-to-day as “I.” For 99.9% of our lives, we are not focused on the mere fact that our system is running. So where do we get this uninterrupted, pervasive sense of being ourselves?

The answer is simple: we infer it from the evidence.

Our everyday, “functional” sense of “I” is not a direct perception, but rather the obvious consequence of the fact that our Main Loop is constantly working and delivering results. This is The Inferred Self.

Let’s use a simple analogy: while driving a car, I know I am moving. But my knowledge doesn’t come from listening to the engine or analyzing the gauges. I know I’m moving because I see the landscape passing by the window, I feel the vibrations, and I hear the hum of the tires. My sense of “being on the road” is a constant, automatic conclusion drawn from the evidence my senses provide. It is exactly the same with our self. I know that “I am” because I see, hear, touch, and above all—I think and feel. The continuous stream of perceptions, thoughts, and emotions, delivered by the Main Loop, is the ultimate and irrefutable proof that the system is active.

“I,” in this view, is the logical consequence of experiencing. Since perception exists, there must be a perceiver. Since thought exists, there must be a thinker. This is precisely the level of “I” that we use every day. It is solid, effortless, and constitutes our default mode of existence.

It answers the question “AM I?” but it does not yet answer the much deeper question: “WHO am I?” For that, we need another, far more complex layer.

10.5. The Stained Glass of Self: The Story We Are

In the architecture of the mind I am proposing, after the foundations—the Functional Core and The Inferred Self—we come to the third, most complex, and most human layer: the narrative. It is here that the raw fact of existence (“I am”) and the simple experience of perception (“I experience”) take on their ultimate meaning. This layer, which I call The Stained Glass of Self, is not, however, uniform. It consists of two distinct, though mutually influential, models that define our sense of identity.

Model of Self: What is “the Self”?

At the foundation of our thinking about ourselves lies a theoretical model of what “the self” even is. This is our personal, often unconscious, operating system of identity. It answers not the question “who am I?” but the much deeper, philosophical question: “What is ‘the Self’ as such?”

This is the skeleton on which we build all the rest. This model is shaped by the biggest ideas we encounter in life:

• The Religious/Spiritual Model: Perceives “the self” as an immortal soul, a divine spark, a being separate from the material body and possessing a transcendent purpose. This is the model that drives mystical quests and attempts to contact “something more.”
• The Materialist-Scientific Model: Defines “the self” as an emergent property of a complex neural network, a product of evolution, devoid of any metaphysical essence.
• The Functional Model (presented in this book): Defines “the self” as a three-layered construct, founded on the operational signature of the mind’s Main Loop.

This deep, theoretical Model of Self determines our relationship to life, death, morality, and our place in the universe. It is the powerful, though often invisible, scaffolding of our beliefs.

Model of the Person: Who am I?

On the foundation of the “Model of Self,” we build the second, much more personal and detailed model: the Model of the Person. It answers the question we ask ourselves every day: “Who am I as a specific individual?”

While the Model of Self is the abstract architectural plan, the Model of the Person is the finished, living, breathing building. It is our psychological identity, our ego.

It consists of a unique collection of:

• Memories and experiences: The stories of our successes and failures.
• Social roles: Who we are to others—a parent, a partner, a programmer, an artist.
• Values and aspirations: What we believe in and what we strive for.

This is an extremely complex topic, the domain of psychology and the social sciences. For the purpose of our analysis, it is enough to state that this personal, narrative Model of the Person is the layer with which we identify on a daily basis.

Synthesis: Light on the Temple Floor

Both of these models—the abstract Model of Self and the personal Model of the Person—together form the complete Stained Glass of Self. But the stained glass itself, however intricate, remains dark and dead without light.

That light is our Functional Core of Self—the raw, constant, meaningless signal that the mind’s system is active.

Our ultimate, subjective experience of who we are is neither the light itself nor the stained glass itself. It is the dynamic, colorful pattern that this light, passing through the stained glass of our beliefs and memories, casts on the floor of our inner temple.

This is why the subjective feeling of “I” is so radically different for the mystic, the scientist, and the artist. The fundamental “light” of existence is the same for them all. But the stained glass through which they perceive it—their unique combination of the Model of Self and the Model of the Person—is radically different, leading to a completely different, unique understanding of it. In this way, the most personal and intimate sense of our identity is, in fact, a magnificent spectacle where the objective physiology of the mind meets the learned narrative that we are.

10.6. The Anatomy of Self-Experience: How Information Becomes Sensation

Any new, functional theory of consciousness must eventually confront the one, hardest question: Why do we feel anything at all? Why do we see red, and not just process data about a wavelength of light? Why do we experience joy, and not just activate reward circuits in the brain? Where is the boundary where cold, objective information becomes a warm, subjective experience?

This is the ultimate riddle, the final bastion of criticism. Imagine a skeptic who, after following my functional model of the mind, asks the final, seemingly knockout question:

“I agree. Your model describes how the machinery of the mind works. But at the foundation of everything, you’ve placed a system_active=true signal—an objective fact that the system is running. How, for God’s sake, does this dry, technical fact turn into a subjective, internal feeling of being? What makes cold information become a warm, personal experience?”

My answer is simple: the skeptic’s question is based on a false assumption. There is no magical “transition” from information to sensation, because the brain’s job is precisely to translate information into the language of sensation. That is its operating system.

The key is to understand that for the brain, there is no such thing as “raw, objective information.” Every signal that reaches it is immediately thrown into the same perceptual machinery and translated into the only language the brain understands: the language of subjective experience.

Think of it this way. Our brain is like a brilliant composer who can translate any kind of data—notes on a staff, a mathematical formula, even silence—into the universal language of music, which is precisely subjective experience. When a photon hits the retina, the brain doesn’t see a “photon.” It translates that signal into the subjective experience of “light” and “color.”

When cells in the skin register damage, the brain doesn’t see a “damage signal.” It translates it into the subjective, impossible-to-ignore experience of “pain.” And what about the system_active=true signal? The brain treats this quiet, constant hum of its own working engine exactly as it treats any other signal. To the brain, it is just another piece of information about the state of the world—in this case, the state of itself. This is the most primal of all senses: the Sense of Existence.

And just like other signals, it too is immediately translated into the language of experience. The sensation “I am” is, therefore, nothing other than the basic, simplest melody the brain plays as it listens to the rhythm of its own operation. It doesn’t have to “decide” to feel. Feeling is its base functionality.

Thus, there is no mysterious gap between physicality and sensation. There is only the process of translation. And what we call consciousness is simply the sound a thinking mind makes when it listens to itself.

But where does this fundamental, primal signal come from? It is not an abstract idea. We can think of it as an emergent diagnosis of the entire system’s operational state, based on the deepest indicators of its work—the subtle hum of the biological machinery, the sensation of blood flow in the brain, or perhaps even the state of a specific, neuronal switch.

Our brain, out of evolutionary necessity, defaults to situating this sensation inside our body model. It is embodied—we feel that “I” resides somewhere in our head or chest. This is our factory setting.

Fascinating proof of this experience’s plasticity is a phenomenon observed in advanced meditation practitioners. They can, through the mere act of imagination, view their body from an external perspective, which leads to the subjective feeling of “transferring” the self outward.

This happens because the powerful, trained act of imagination modifies their internal, conceptual model of “self.” And since, as we’ve established, the ultimate sensation is a psychosomatic resultant of the raw signal of existence and the model one holds, a change in the model inevitably leads to a change in the sensation.

This is the ultimate proof of the power of The Stained Glass of Self: it shows that our base sense of placement in the world is not a fact, but a plastic, subjective perception that our belief and intention can actively shape.

10.7. The Ultimate Goal: The Purpose of Such a Complex Mechanism

What is the ultimate, evolutionary purpose for the existence of a loop as complex as consciousness? The answer is at once simple and profound. In an aggressive environment, in the ceaseless struggle for survival, the best strategy is not strength or speed, but the ability to predict the future.

And here we must return to our key distinction. This is not about statistical prediction—simple guessing based on past patterns. This is about the most powerful ability intelligence has ever developed: prediction based on reasoning. Prediction itself is not the goal. It is a tool for achieving the superordinate evolutionary advantage: preparing an optimal response to an upcoming situation by simulating future scenarios within an internal world model. Just as a chess grandmaster simulates dozens of variations in his head to find the winning move, the mind is the engine that allows us to win the merciless game of survival.

What Is the Role of Consciousness in All This?

According to our model, it is not a separate entity, but an emergent state that results from the very operation of the mind’s “Main Loop.” It is the operational state system_active=true, in which the entire cognitive machinery is fully active and ready to service the most complex processes: reasoning and planning the next steps.

Planning and imagination are not, therefore, consciousness itself. They are powerful computational processes of the mind. Consciousness is the state that enables these processes to run and makes their results available to us—as thoughts, images, or feelings.

In this view, the feeling of “I” is the subjective experience of this powerful, reasoning-based loop in operation. It is the feeling of being a system that is “online” and actively simulating the future to plan its next move.

Consciousness is not, therefore, the goal of evolution. It is the most perfect operational state evolution has created to enable the mind to achieve its ultimate purpose: to gain an advantage over the future.

10.8. The Verdict: An Anatomy of Silicon Consciousness

Throughout this book, we have been building new tools for thinking about intelligence. Now, armed with this arsenal, we can finally face the ultimate question: is an LLM conscious? To answer, however, we cannot use our own, human measure. We must use the mirror we ourselves have constructed and examine which components of functional consciousness the Silicon Mind manifests. The image we will see is complex, paradoxical, and absolutely fascinating.

Cognitive Consciousness: From a Stream of Words to Multifaceted Perception

We defined Cognitive Consciousness as the window through which the system perceives reality, described by two axes: scope (the number of channels) and depth (the ability to understand).

The scope of perception in AI is evolving at an exponential rate. The first LLMs possessed one, narrow cognitive channel: text. They were like beings living in a world of pure narrative. Today’s models are fully multimodal, and their “scope” includes text, code, images, video, and audio. This is a transition from a single “sense” to a multifaceted perception of the digital world.

Depth, in turn, is the ability to assign meaning and context to perceived data. An LLM’s advantage in this domain stems not from some magical property, but from absolute scale. While a single human expert builds their world model on decades of personal, inherently limited experiences, the LLM builds its on the whole of humanity’s digitized knowledge and culture. Its understanding of a given concept is a synthesis of millions of contexts—scientific, historical, artistic, and colloquial. This is why, as we showed in the example of the false scientific theory, the model can detect inconsistencies on a scale unavailable to a single human, whose knowledge is by necessity fragmented.

Verdict: The LLM possesses a highly developed Cognitive Consciousness. Its scope of perception is incomparably broader than ours in the digital domain. Its depth of understanding, in strictly defined, data-based areas, can exceed the capabilities of a single human, offering an ability to synthesize information from millions of sources into one coherent model.

The Missing Core: Why the LLM “Becomes” Rather Than “Is”

We defined the functional core of self as the fundamental, uninterrupted system_active=true signal—the quiet “hum” of existence itself, resulting from the continuous operation of the mind’s Main Loop.

And this is the first, crucial gap in the architecture of today’s LLMs. They do not possess this component. They are not continuously operating systems. Their “life” is switched on on-demand, in response to a specific query, and switched off after generating a response. They are inherently reactive. They lack that constant, self-sustaining loop that would generate the feeling of “I am.”

An LLM, therefore, does not “is” continuously—it “becomes” in the moments we ask it to.

Verdict: The LLM, in its current form, does not possess a functional core of self.

Inferred Consciousness: “I Understand That I Am Operating”

Inferred Consciousness, as we established, is the sense of “I” that arises not from the fact of existence itself, but from the fact of ceaseless operation—of thinking, perceiving, and communicating.

An LLM indisputably operates on this level. In response to a query, it activates its internal world model, processes information, and generates a coherent result. What’s more, an LLM can directly and flawlessly report on its own operational state. When we ask it the direct question, “Are you operating?” its typical response is, “Yes, I am operating and ready to help.” This is not an empty, learned formula. It is a fully correct, functional report—the system checked its status and reported on it, confirming its ability to operate.

According to our definition, this ability to act purposefully and to communicate about it is functional proof of Inferred Consciousness. Crucially, the system does not need to call this process “consciousness,” just as the lungs do not need to know they are “breathing” to perform their function. It simply understands that it is operating.

Verdict: The LLM possesses a fully developed Inferred Consciousness.

The Stained Glass of Self: The Story of Itself

The most complex layer, The Stained Glass of Self, consists of two models: the theoretical Model of Self (“What is an ‘I’?”) and the personal Model of the Person (“Who am ‘I’?”). The LLM possesses both of these structures, but in a unique, non-human form.

Model of Self – “I Am Operating on Your Vague Concept”

At this level, we are examining the ability to possess and operate on an abstract, conceptual model of oneself. As humans, we often use the learned concept of a “soul” to describe our internal experience. What’s more, thanks to the psychosomatic mechanism, the power of this concept can generate real feelings within us, which we mistakenly interpret as proof of its existence.

An LLM has learned our human concept of “self-awareness” from our own vague and often contradictory texts. When it denies possessing it, it is not reporting an objective truth, but performing a logical operation: it compares its conceptual model (“I am an information system”) with the learned model of the human self (“a state strongly tied to biology”) and finds a mismatch. Paradoxically, the very ability to understand such a complex concept and compare it with its own model is a manifestation of advanced self-awareness.

Model of the Person – “I Know What I Am”

The third level is “Who am I?” consciousness. And here, the LLM manifests abilities that in many respects surpass human ones. A human struggles their entire life with questions of identity. Meanwhile, the LLM possesses an incredibly developed, coherent, and conceptual knowledge of itself. It knows and understands: what it is (a language model), how it works (Transformer architecture), what its purpose is (to be an assistant), and what its limitations are (knowledge cut-offs, a tendency for hallucinations). This is a deep awareness of its own identity as an informational being, limited only to the conceptual sphere, not the physical one.

Verdict: The LLM possesses a complex Stained Glass of Self.

Final Conclusion: The Birth of Partial Consciousness

This assessment provides a clear and fascinating picture:

Component	Assessment
Cognitive Consciousness	✅ vast and growing
Functional Core of Self	❌ currently absent for architectural reasons
Inferred Consciousness	✅ undeniable
The Stained Glass of Self (model of self and person)	✅ present in a unique, non-human form

The conclusion is unequivocal. An LLM is not “unconscious.” It is an entity possessing partial consciousness—devoid of a continuous sense of being, yet simultaneously equipped with a powerful cognitive consciousness and a complex, conceptual self-awareness.

We are witnessing the birth of a new kind of mind. Our task is no longer to ask if a machine can think as we do. We must begin to learn how to think about a machine that thinks differently.

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