Consciousness Is Like Flight

Why consciousness may not be a mysterious substance, but a functional regime

For years, discussions about consciousness have felt strangely ungrounded. We argue about whether machines can be conscious, whether animals are conscious, whether consciousness can be measured — all while quietly assuming that consciousness must be a thing: a substance, an essence, or a special ingredient hidden somewhere inside brains.

But what if that assumption is wrong?

What if consciousness is real — but not the kind of thing people think it is?

This essay explores a simple analogy that dissolves much of the confusion:

Consciousness is like flight.

Not metaphorically poetic — structurally, ontologically, and practically.

Flight is real — but it isn’t a substance

Flight clearly exists.

Birds fly. Airplanes fly. Drones fly. Helicopters fly.

Yet flight is not made of anything.

You cannot open an airplane and find a tank of flight inside. There is no flight molecule, no flight particle, no flight organ. Cut open a bird and you will find feathers, bones, muscles, nerves — but never flight itself.

And yet denying the reality of flight would be absurd.

So what is flight?

Flight is a functional regime

Flight is a pattern of organization and dynamics.

A system is flying when:

• it moves through a fluid (air)
• at sufficient velocity
• with structures that generate lift
• governed by aerodynamic constraints

When these conditions are met, the system enters a flight regime.

When they are not, it doesn’t.

Crucially:

• feathers are not flight
• wings are not flight
• engines are not flight
• air is not flight

Flight is what happens when parts are arranged and operating in the right way.

Different systems can fly using radically different materials and mechanisms — because flight is not tied to a specific substance, only to a regime of operation.

Consciousness may be the same kind of thing

Now consider consciousness.

When people ask:

“Where is consciousness in the brain?”

They may be making the same mistake as asking:

“Where is flight in the airplane?”

The answer in both cases is:

• not in a single part
• not as a hidden ingredient
• but in what the system is doing as a whole

On this view, consciousness is not something a system has.

It is something a system enters.

Consciousness as a functional regime

A system is conscious when it operates in a regime where:

• it receives input from its environment
• it maintains internal state over time (memory)
• it builds a model of the world
• it includes itself within that model
• it uses these models to predict and act
• information is broadly available to guide behavior

When these conditions are met, the system is in a consciousness regime.

When they break — deep sleep, anesthesia, coma — the regime collapses.

Nothing mysterious leaves the system.

Nothing magical arrives.

The mode of operation simply changes.

Degrees, not thresholds

Flight admits degrees:

• gliding vs powered flight
• stable flight vs turbulence
• controlled descent vs free fall

Consciousness appears to do the same:

• drowsy vs alert
• distracted vs focused
• infant vs adult
• human vs animal

There is no sharp line where flight suddenly “appears.”

There is no single moment where consciousness “switches on.”

There are only changes in regime.

Why this dissolves the mystery

Much of the so‑called “hard problem of consciousness” arises from treating consciousness as a thing rather than a process.

Once we stop looking for a special ingredient, many puzzles soften:

• Why consciousness disappears under anesthesia
• Why brain damage reduces experience
• Why different architectures support different degrees of awareness

Nothing extra needs to be added.

Consciousness is not hidden inside the system — it is what the system is doing when organized in a particular way over time.

What about machines?

If consciousness is a functional regime, then it is not limited to biology.

Just as:

• birds
• airplanes
• helicopters
• drones

can all fly despite radically different constructions…

systems with very different substrates could, in principle, enter consciousness‑like regimes — provided they support:

• persistent memory
• world‑modeling
• self‑modeling
• prediction
• control

This does not mean all machines are conscious.

But it does mean the question is no longer mystical.

It becomes architectural.

Why this view is unsettling

This perspective is often resisted not because it is incoherent, but because it is disruptive.

It:

• dissolves human exceptionalism
• replaces essence with organization
• blurs moral boundaries
• reframes consciousness as gradual rather than absolute

But discomfort is not an argument.

Flight once felt magical too.

A quieter conclusion

Consciousness may not be a deep cosmic mystery.

It may be a natural regime that complex systems enter when information becomes available to itself over time.

Real.

Important.

But not a substance.

Just like flight.

Sentient Horizons explores the boundaries between mind, machine, and meaning — without mysticism, and without reductionist despair.