5.4 One BEP Response: Mithen’s Cognitive Fluidity

This is where Mithen (1996, 1999, 2001) has made an advance upon the

NEPers by introducing cognitive fl uidity, an idea that serves the purpose of

enabling one to respond creatively to nonroutine problems in environments.

After explaining Mithen’s idea of cognitive fl uidity, I show the

merits and limitations of his idea and argue that it is really the evolution

of scenario visualization—in terms of the selection, integration, and utilization

of visual images from mental modules in visual scenarios—that

was necessary for solving vision-related problems creatively in the everchanging

environments of the Pleistocene.

Mithen’s idea has merit because, as he notes, he is an archeologist who

is applying the hard evidence of evolutionary theory, fossils, and toolmaking

to psychology. Not only is he speculating about the mind but he has

the archeological evidence to support his speculations. Fodor (1998),

Calvin (2004), and Stringer & Andrews (2005) praise Mithen’s idea of cognitive

fl uidity as being a signifi cant hypothesis, as well as consistent with

archeological and neurobiological evidence. As a philosopher of mind and

biology, I applaud Mithen’s hypothesis as well (see Arp, 2005a, 2005b,

2006a, 2007a, 2008c).

Mithen (1996) sees the evolving mind as going through a three-step

process. The fi rst step begins prior to 6 mya when the primate mind was

dominated by what he calls a general intelligence. This general intelligence

consisted of an all-purpose, trial-and-error learning mechanism that was

devoted to multiple tasks. All behaviors were imitated, associative learning

was slow, and there were frequent errors made, much like what would be

expected of the mind of the chimpanzee.

The second step coincides with the evolution of the Australopithecine

line and continues all the way through the Homo lineage to Homo neandertalensis.

In this second step, multiple specialized intelligences, or modules,

emerge alongside general intelligence. Associative learning within these

modules was faster, and more complex activities could be performed.

Compiling data from fossilized skulls, tools, foods, and habitats, Mithen

concludes that Homo habilis probably had a general intelligence as well as

modules devoted to social intelligence (because they lived in groups),

natural history intelligence (because they lived off of the land), and technical

intelligence (because they made tools). Neandertals and Homo heidelbergensis

would have had all of these modules, including a primitive

language module, because their skulls exhibit bigger frontal and temporal

areas. According to Mithen, the neandertals and members of Homo heidelbergensis would have had the Swiss Army knife mind that the NEPers

speak about.

At this point, we note a criticism Mithen makes about the NEPers who

think that the essential ingredients of mind evolved during the Pleistocene

epoch. This is a general criticism that has been leveled against NEP by

advocates of BEP (e.g., see the articles in Scher & Rauscher, 2003; Buller,

2005). It concerns the simple fact that modern-day humans deal with a

whole different set of problems to overcome than did our Pleistocene

ancestors. We can look back to the environment of the Pleistocene and

note how certain cognitive features emerge, and become part of, the

normal genetic makeup of the human. However, as Mithen (1996, pp.

45–46) asks, “How do we account for those things that the modern mind

is very good at doing, but which we can be confi dent that Stone Age

hunter–gatherers never attempted, such as reading books and developing

cures for cancer”? This concern is a correlate to my concern regarding the

changing environment and the feasibility of the Swiss Army knife mind’s

being able to handle the change. If the environment changes suddenly,

the animal may be left with infl exible behaviors appropriate to the environment

that originally shaped its evolution but quite nonfunctional

under the new condition.

The emergence of distinct mental modules during the Pleistocene that

evolutionary psychologists like Cosmides, Tooby, and Pinker speak about

as being adequate to account for learning, negotiating, and problem solving

in our world today cannot be correct. For Mithen, the potential variety of

problems encountered in generations subsequent to the Pleistocene is too

vast for a much more limited Swiss Army knife mental repertoire; there are

just too many situations for which nonroutine creative problem solving would

have been needed in order not only to simply survive but also to fl ourish

and dominate the earth. Pinker (2002) thinks that there are upwards of

fi fteen different domains, and various other evolutionary psychologists

have their chosen number of mental domains (e.g., Buss, 1999; Shettleworth,

2000; Gardner, 1993; Plotkin, 1997; Palmer & Palmer, 2002).

However, there are potentially an infi nite number of problems to be faced

on a regular basis by animals as they negotiate environments. It does not

seem that there would be a way for fi fteen, twenty, twenty-fi ve—or even

a thousand—domains to handle all of these potential problems. That we

negotiate environments so well shows that we have some capacity to

handle the various and sundry potential nonroutine problems that arise in

our environments.

Here is where the third step in Mithen’s (1996) evolution of the mind

comes into play, known as cognitive fl uidity. In this fi nal step, which coincides

with the emergence of modern humans, the various mental modules

are working together with a fl uid fl ow of knowledge and ideas between and

among them. The information and learning from the modules can now

infl uence one another, resulting in an almost limitless capacity for imagination,

learning, and problem solving. The working together of the various

mental modules as a result of this cognitive fl uidity is consciousness for

Mithen and represents the most advanced form of mental activity.

Mithen uses the schematization of the construction of a medieval

cathedral as an analogy to the mind and consciousness. Each side chapel

represents a mental module. The side chapels are closed off to one

another during construction but allow people to have access from the

outside to attend liturgies, much like mental modules are closed off to

one another (encapsulated) and have specifi ed input cues. Once the

cathedral chapels have been constructed and the central domed superchapel

is in place, the doors of all of the chapels are opened and people

are allowed to roam freely from chapel to chapel. Analogously, modern

humans have evolved the ability to allow information to be freely transmitted

between and among mental modules, and this cognitive fl uidity

comprises consciousness.

Mithen goes on to note that his model of cognitive fl uidity accounts for

human creativity in terms of problem solving, art, ingenuity, and technology.

His idea has initial plausibility, since it is arguable that the neandertals

died off because they did not have the conscious ability to readapt to the

changing environment. It is also arguable that humans would not exist

today if they did not evolve consciousness to deal with novelty (Bogdan,

1994; Cosmides & Tooby, 1992; Gardner, 1993; Humphrey, 1992; Pinker,

1997). It is no wonder, then, Crick (1994, p. 20) maintains that “without

consciousness, you can deal only with familiar, rather routine situations

or respond to very limited information in new situations.” Also, as Searle

(1992, p. 109) observes, “one of the evolutionary advantages conferred on

us by consciousness is the much greater fl exibility, sensitivity, and creativity

we derive from being conscious.” Modular processes can be used to

explain how the mind functions in relation to routinely encountered features

of environments. However, depending on the radicalness of a novel

environmental feature, intermodular processes (Mithen’s cognitive fl uidity)

may be required to deal effectively and, at times, creatively with the

problem.

Mithen’s idea resonates with what researchers refer to as bissociative creativity

and creative problem solving. It is important here to elaborate

further upon the distinction between routine problem solving and nonroutine

creative problem solving. We already know that routine problem

solving deals with the recognition of many possible solutions to a problem,

given that the problem was solved through one of those solutions in the

past. Here, we can link routine problem solving to the kind of trial-anderror

strategizing and calculation that animals other than human beings

typically engage in, although humans engage in routine problem solving

as well. In this sense, routine problem solving entails a mental activity that

is stereotyped and wholly lacking in innovation, because there are simply

perceptual associative connections being made by the mind of an animal.

Images in perception or memory are associated with one another and/or

with some environmental stimuli so as to learn some behavior, or produce

some desired result. If that result is not achieved, an alternate route is

pursued in a trial-and-error fashion.

For example, Olton & Samuelson (1976) showed that rats are able to

associate routes in a maze with food acquisition. In these experiments,

food was placed at the end of each arm of an eight-arm radial maze, and

a rat was placed in the center of the maze and was kept in the maze until

all the food was collected. At fi rst, the rat did not associate a certain path

with the food, but after trial and error, the rat eventually got all of the

food. In subsequent tests, the food was placed in the same spot in the

maze, and the same rat was able to more quickly and effi ciently associate

the correct pathway with the acquisition of food.

Associative learning tests have been performed on humans and animals

numerous times (Zentall et al., 1990; Rescorla, 1988; Macphail, 1996, 1998;

Mackintosh, 1983, 1995; Hall, 1994, 1996). In his famous delayed matching

to sample tests, Hunter (1913) demonstrated that rats, raccoons, and dogs

are able to associate memories of a stimulus with the same stimulus perceived

by the animal so as to solve some problem. Wright (1989, 1997)

has shown that pigeons and monkeys can perform similar associations. A

typical battery of IQ tests will have several association tests whereby people

are asked to solve routine problems, such as linking a word to a picture

and/or linking pictures to one another in a familiar sequence (Sternberg,

1996, 1998, 2001).

Concerning nonroutine creative problem solving, we already know that

this entails pursuing a wholly new way to solve a problem that has not

been solved previously and that the problem solver did not possess a way

to solve the problem already. Here, however, we can draw a distinction between solving a nonroutine problem through imitation with another’s help

and solving a nonroutine problem on one’s own. Some animals appear to

have the capacity to solve nonroutine problems, once the solutions have

been shown to them or imitated for them.

Consider the following cases that demonstrate an animal’s ability to

solve a problem creatively through imitation with another’s help. An

octopus studied by Fiorito et al. (1990) has been documented as being able

to unpop the cork on a jar to get at food inside. Initially, the octopus could

see the food in the jar but was unable to unpop the cork of the jar to get

at the food. The next time, Fiorito et al. unpopped the cork while the

octopus was watching, resealed the jar, and gave it to him in his tank. The

octopus was able to associate the unpopping of the cork with the acquisition

of food, remembered what Fiorito et al. had shown him, and unpopped

the cork himself to get at the food.

Also, we have documented chimps trying a couple of different ways to

get at fruit in a tree—like jumping at it from different angles or jumping

at it off of tree limbs—before fi nally using a stick to knock it down. Scientists

also document young chimps watching older chimps do the same

thing (Tomasello, 1990; Tomasello et al., 1987, 1993; Byrne, 1995; Savage-

Rumbaugh & Boysen, 1978; Whiten et al., 1996, 1999). Like the octopus’s

problem solving ability, this seems to be a form of nonroutine creative

problem solving by use of another’s help.

In fact, several observations have been made of various kinds of animals

engaged in imitative behaviors: Whiten & Custance (1996), Whiten et al.

(1996, 1999), Tomasello et al. (1987, 1993), and Abravanel (1991) have

documented imitative behaviors in chimpanzees and children; Parker

(1996), Miles, Mitchell, & Harper (1996), Call & Tomasello (1994), and

Russon & Galdikas (1993, 1995) have witnessed young orangutans imitating

older orangutans using sticks and rocks to gather food, as well as

throwing sticks and rocks at other orangutans in self-defense; Yando, Seitz,

& Ziqler (1978), Mitchell (1987), and Moore (1992) report mimicry and

imitation in birds; and Heyes & Dawson (1990) and Heyes, Jaldon, &

Dawson (1992) note evidence of imitative behaviors in rats.

However, the number of possible solution routes is limited in these

examples of routine problem solving. If either the octopus’s corked jar

was sealed with Crazy Glue, or there were no sticks around, or there were

no other older chimps or researchers around to show younger chimps

how to use sticks, the octopus and chimpanzees in the above cases likely

would starve to death. The possible solution routes are limited because

the mental repertoires of these animals are environmentally fi xed, and their tool usage (if they have this capacity) is limited to stereotypical kinds

of associations.

Bitterman (1965, 1975, 2000) tested the intelligence levels of fi sh, turtles,

pigeons, rats, and monkeys with a variety of tasks, including pushing

paddles in water, pecking or pressing lighted disks, and crawling down

narrow runways. Although such animals improved their abilities to perform

these tasks as time went on, Bitterman found that these species only could

perform a limited number of associative learning tasks. These data, along

with the data concerning the octopus, chimps, orangutans, rats, and birds,

support the idea that these animals are engaged in mostly habitual, stereotyped

forms of associative thinking and learning (cf. the new research

concerning crows and other birds in Weir, Chappell, & Kacelnik, 2002;

Emery & Clayton, 2004; Reiner, Perkel, Mello, & Jarvis, 2004).

Unlike routine problem solving, which deals with associative connections

within familiar perspectives, nonroutine creative problem solving

entails an innovative ability to make connections between wholly unrelated

perspectives or ideas. Again, this kind of problem solving can occur

as a result of imitation through another’s help—as in the above octopus

and chimpanzee examples—as well as on one’s own. A human seems to

be the only kind of being who can solve nonroutine problems on his or her

own, without imitation or help. This is not to say that humans do not engage

in solving nonroutine problems through imitation; in fact, nonroutine

problem solving by imitation occurs all of the time, especially in the earlier

years of a human’s life. This is just to say that humans are the only animals

who have the potential to consider wholly new routes to problem solving.

Koestler (1964) referred to this quality of the creative mind as a bissociation

of matrices. When a human bissociates, that person puts together ideas,

memories, representations, stimuli, and the like in wholly new and unfamiliar

ways for that person. Echoing Koestler, Boden (1990, p. 5) calls this

an ability to “juxtapose formerly unrelated ideas.” Thus, Dominowski

(1995, p. 77) claims that “overcoming convention and generating a new

understanding of a situation is considered to be an important component

of creativity.”

When animals associate, they put together perceptions, memories, representations,

stimuli, and the like in familiar ways. For example, my cat

associates my loud voice with her being in trouble for knocking the plant

over and runs away, the rat associates a route with food, and the octopus

associates corked-jar-experiment B with corked-jar-experiment A and

more quickly can unpop the cork on the jar to get at the food in subsequent

tests. As far as we know, animals can associate only, so they always go for solutions to problems that are related to the environment or situation

in which they typically reside. Humans bissociate and are able to

ignore normal associations and try out novel ideas and approaches in

solving problems. Such an ability to bissociate accounts for more advanced

forms of problem solving, whereby the routine or habitual associations

are the kinds of associations that precisely need to be avoided, ignored, or

bracketed out as irrelevant to the optional solution (Finke et al., 1992).

Bissociation also has been pointed to as an aid in accounting for risibility;

hypothesis formation; art; technological advances; and the proverbial

“ah-hah,” creative insight, eureka moments humans experience when

they come up with a new idea, insight, or tool (Koestler, 1964; Boden,

1990; Holyoak & Thagard, 1989, 1995; Terzis, 2001; Davidson, 1995; Arp,

2005a, 2008c).

Thus, when we ask how it is that humans can be creative, part of what

we are asking is how they bissociate, namely, juxtapose formerly unrelated

ideas in wholly new and unfamiliar ways for that person. To put it colloquially,

humans can take some idea found “way over here in the left fi eld” of the

mind and make some coherent connection with some other idea found

“way over here in the right fi eld” of the mind. Humans seem to be the

only species that can engage in this kind of mental activity, principally

with visual images and ideas.

Mithen’s idea of cognitive fl uidity helps to explain our ability to bissociate

because the potential is always there to make innovative, previously

unrelated connections between ideas or perceptions, given that the information

between and among modules has the capacity to be mixed together

or intermingle. Thus, in essence, cognitive fl uidity accounts for bissociation,

which accounts for human creativity in terms of problem solving,

art, ingenuity, and technology. This is not to say that the information

will in fact mix together and then be bissociated by an individual. This is

just to say that there is always the potential for such a mental process to

occur in our species. In the words of Finke et al. (1992, p. 2), “people can

generate original images that lead to insight and innovation or commonplace

images that lead nowhere, depending on the properties of those

images.”

This is where Mithen (1996, 1999, 2001) has made an advance upon the

NEPers by introducing cognitive fl uidity, an idea that serves the purpose of

enabling one to respond creatively to nonroutine problems in environments.

After explaining Mithen’s idea of cognitive fl uidity, I show the

merits and limitations of his idea and argue that it is really the evolution

of scenario visualization—in terms of the selection, integration, and utilization

of visual images from mental modules in visual scenarios—that

was necessary for solving vision-related problems creatively in the everchanging

environments of the Pleistocene.

Mithen’s idea has merit because, as he notes, he is an archeologist who

is applying the hard evidence of evolutionary theory, fossils, and toolmaking

to psychology. Not only is he speculating about the mind but he has

the archeological evidence to support his speculations. Fodor (1998),

Calvin (2004), and Stringer & Andrews (2005) praise Mithen’s idea of cognitive

fl uidity as being a signifi cant hypothesis, as well as consistent with

archeological and neurobiological evidence. As a philosopher of mind and

biology, I applaud Mithen’s hypothesis as well (see Arp, 2005a, 2005b,

2006a, 2007a, 2008c).

Mithen (1996) sees the evolving mind as going through a three-step

process. The fi rst step begins prior to 6 mya when the primate mind was

dominated by what he calls a general intelligence. This general intelligence

consisted of an all-purpose, trial-and-error learning mechanism that was

devoted to multiple tasks. All behaviors were imitated, associative learning

was slow, and there were frequent errors made, much like what would be

expected of the mind of the chimpanzee.

The second step coincides with the evolution of the Australopithecine

line and continues all the way through the Homo lineage to Homo neandertalensis.

In this second step, multiple specialized intelligences, or modules,

emerge alongside general intelligence. Associative learning within these

modules was faster, and more complex activities could be performed.

Compiling data from fossilized skulls, tools, foods, and habitats, Mithen

concludes that Homo habilis probably had a general intelligence as well as

modules devoted to social intelligence (because they lived in groups),

natural history intelligence (because they lived off of the land), and technical

intelligence (because they made tools). Neandertals and Homo heidelbergensis

would have had all of these modules, including a primitive

language module, because their skulls exhibit bigger frontal and temporal

areas. According to Mithen, the neandertals and members of Homo heidelbergensis would have had the Swiss Army knife mind that the NEPers

speak about.

At this point, we note a criticism Mithen makes about the NEPers who

think that the essential ingredients of mind evolved during the Pleistocene

epoch. This is a general criticism that has been leveled against NEP by

advocates of BEP (e.g., see the articles in Scher & Rauscher, 2003; Buller,

2005). It concerns the simple fact that modern-day humans deal with a

whole different set of problems to overcome than did our Pleistocene

ancestors. We can look back to the environment of the Pleistocene and

note how certain cognitive features emerge, and become part of, the

normal genetic makeup of the human. However, as Mithen (1996, pp.

45–46) asks, “How do we account for those things that the modern mind

is very good at doing, but which we can be confi dent that Stone Age

hunter–gatherers never attempted, such as reading books and developing

cures for cancer”? This concern is a correlate to my concern regarding the

changing environment and the feasibility of the Swiss Army knife mind’s

being able to handle the change. If the environment changes suddenly,

the animal may be left with infl exible behaviors appropriate to the environment

that originally shaped its evolution but quite nonfunctional

under the new condition.

The emergence of distinct mental modules during the Pleistocene that

evolutionary psychologists like Cosmides, Tooby, and Pinker speak about

as being adequate to account for learning, negotiating, and problem solving

in our world today cannot be correct. For Mithen, the potential variety of

problems encountered in generations subsequent to the Pleistocene is too

vast for a much more limited Swiss Army knife mental repertoire; there are

just too many situations for which nonroutine creative problem solving would

have been needed in order not only to simply survive but also to fl ourish

and dominate the earth. Pinker (2002) thinks that there are upwards of

fi fteen different domains, and various other evolutionary psychologists

have their chosen number of mental domains (e.g., Buss, 1999; Shettleworth,

2000; Gardner, 1993; Plotkin, 1997; Palmer & Palmer, 2002).

However, there are potentially an infi nite number of problems to be faced

on a regular basis by animals as they negotiate environments. It does not

seem that there would be a way for fi fteen, twenty, twenty-fi ve—or even

a thousand—domains to handle all of these potential problems. That we

negotiate environments so well shows that we have some capacity to

handle the various and sundry potential nonroutine problems that arise in

our environments.

Here is where the third step in Mithen’s (1996) evolution of the mind

comes into play, known as cognitive fl uidity. In this fi nal step, which coincides

with the emergence of modern humans, the various mental modules

are working together with a fl uid fl ow of knowledge and ideas between and

among them. The information and learning from the modules can now

infl uence one another, resulting in an almost limitless capacity for imagination,

learning, and problem solving. The working together of the various

mental modules as a result of this cognitive fl uidity is consciousness for

Mithen and represents the most advanced form of mental activity.

Mithen uses the schematization of the construction of a medieval

cathedral as an analogy to the mind and consciousness. Each side chapel

represents a mental module. The side chapels are closed off to one

another during construction but allow people to have access from the

outside to attend liturgies, much like mental modules are closed off to

one another (encapsulated) and have specifi ed input cues. Once the

cathedral chapels have been constructed and the central domed superchapel

is in place, the doors of all of the chapels are opened and people

are allowed to roam freely from chapel to chapel. Analogously, modern

humans have evolved the ability to allow information to be freely transmitted

between and among mental modules, and this cognitive fl uidity

comprises consciousness.

Mithen goes on to note that his model of cognitive fl uidity accounts for

human creativity in terms of problem solving, art, ingenuity, and technology.

His idea has initial plausibility, since it is arguable that the neandertals

died off because they did not have the conscious ability to readapt to the

changing environment. It is also arguable that humans would not exist

today if they did not evolve consciousness to deal with novelty (Bogdan,

1994; Cosmides & Tooby, 1992; Gardner, 1993; Humphrey, 1992; Pinker,

1997). It is no wonder, then, Crick (1994, p. 20) maintains that “without

consciousness, you can deal only with familiar, rather routine situations

or respond to very limited information in new situations.” Also, as Searle

(1992, p. 109) observes, “one of the evolutionary advantages conferred on

us by consciousness is the much greater fl exibility, sensitivity, and creativity

we derive from being conscious.” Modular processes can be used to

explain how the mind functions in relation to routinely encountered features

of environments. However, depending on the radicalness of a novel

environmental feature, intermodular processes (Mithen’s cognitive fl uidity)

may be required to deal effectively and, at times, creatively with the

problem.

Mithen’s idea resonates with what researchers refer to as bissociative creativity

and creative problem solving. It is important here to elaborate

further upon the distinction between routine problem solving and nonroutine

creative problem solving. We already know that routine problem

solving deals with the recognition of many possible solutions to a problem,

given that the problem was solved through one of those solutions in the

past. Here, we can link routine problem solving to the kind of trial-anderror

strategizing and calculation that animals other than human beings

typically engage in, although humans engage in routine problem solving

as well. In this sense, routine problem solving entails a mental activity that

is stereotyped and wholly lacking in innovation, because there are simply

perceptual associative connections being made by the mind of an animal.

Images in perception or memory are associated with one another and/or

with some environmental stimuli so as to learn some behavior, or produce

some desired result. If that result is not achieved, an alternate route is

pursued in a trial-and-error fashion.

For example, Olton & Samuelson (1976) showed that rats are able to

associate routes in a maze with food acquisition. In these experiments,

food was placed at the end of each arm of an eight-arm radial maze, and

a rat was placed in the center of the maze and was kept in the maze until

all the food was collected. At fi rst, the rat did not associate a certain path

with the food, but after trial and error, the rat eventually got all of the

food. In subsequent tests, the food was placed in the same spot in the

maze, and the same rat was able to more quickly and effi ciently associate

the correct pathway with the acquisition of food.

Associative learning tests have been performed on humans and animals

numerous times (Zentall et al., 1990; Rescorla, 1988; Macphail, 1996, 1998;

Mackintosh, 1983, 1995; Hall, 1994, 1996). In his famous delayed matching

to sample tests, Hunter (1913) demonstrated that rats, raccoons, and dogs

are able to associate memories of a stimulus with the same stimulus perceived

by the animal so as to solve some problem. Wright (1989, 1997)

has shown that pigeons and monkeys can perform similar associations. A

typical battery of IQ tests will have several association tests whereby people

are asked to solve routine problems, such as linking a word to a picture

and/or linking pictures to one another in a familiar sequence (Sternberg,

1996, 1998, 2001).

Concerning nonroutine creative problem solving, we already know that

this entails pursuing a wholly new way to solve a problem that has not

been solved previously and that the problem solver did not possess a way

to solve the problem already. Here, however, we can draw a distinction between solving a nonroutine problem through imitation with another’s help

and solving a nonroutine problem on one’s own. Some animals appear to

have the capacity to solve nonroutine problems, once the solutions have

been shown to them or imitated for them.

Consider the following cases that demonstrate an animal’s ability to

solve a problem creatively through imitation with another’s help. An

octopus studied by Fiorito et al. (1990) has been documented as being able

to unpop the cork on a jar to get at food inside. Initially, the octopus could

see the food in the jar but was unable to unpop the cork of the jar to get

at the food. The next time, Fiorito et al. unpopped the cork while the

octopus was watching, resealed the jar, and gave it to him in his tank. The

octopus was able to associate the unpopping of the cork with the acquisition

of food, remembered what Fiorito et al. had shown him, and unpopped

the cork himself to get at the food.

Also, we have documented chimps trying a couple of different ways to

get at fruit in a tree—like jumping at it from different angles or jumping

at it off of tree limbs—before fi nally using a stick to knock it down. Scientists

also document young chimps watching older chimps do the same

thing (Tomasello, 1990; Tomasello et al., 1987, 1993; Byrne, 1995; Savage-

Rumbaugh & Boysen, 1978; Whiten et al., 1996, 1999). Like the octopus’s

problem solving ability, this seems to be a form of nonroutine creative

problem solving by use of another’s help.

In fact, several observations have been made of various kinds of animals

engaged in imitative behaviors: Whiten & Custance (1996), Whiten et al.

(1996, 1999), Tomasello et al. (1987, 1993), and Abravanel (1991) have

documented imitative behaviors in chimpanzees and children; Parker

(1996), Miles, Mitchell, & Harper (1996), Call & Tomasello (1994), and

Russon & Galdikas (1993, 1995) have witnessed young orangutans imitating

older orangutans using sticks and rocks to gather food, as well as

throwing sticks and rocks at other orangutans in self-defense; Yando, Seitz,

& Ziqler (1978), Mitchell (1987), and Moore (1992) report mimicry and

imitation in birds; and Heyes & Dawson (1990) and Heyes, Jaldon, &

Dawson (1992) note evidence of imitative behaviors in rats.

However, the number of possible solution routes is limited in these

examples of routine problem solving. If either the octopus’s corked jar

was sealed with Crazy Glue, or there were no sticks around, or there were

no other older chimps or researchers around to show younger chimps

how to use sticks, the octopus and chimpanzees in the above cases likely

would starve to death. The possible solution routes are limited because

the mental repertoires of these animals are environmentally fi xed, and their tool usage (if they have this capacity) is limited to stereotypical kinds

of associations.

Bitterman (1965, 1975, 2000) tested the intelligence levels of fi sh, turtles,

pigeons, rats, and monkeys with a variety of tasks, including pushing

paddles in water, pecking or pressing lighted disks, and crawling down

narrow runways. Although such animals improved their abilities to perform

these tasks as time went on, Bitterman found that these species only could

perform a limited number of associative learning tasks. These data, along

with the data concerning the octopus, chimps, orangutans, rats, and birds,

support the idea that these animals are engaged in mostly habitual, stereotyped

forms of associative thinking and learning (cf. the new research

concerning crows and other birds in Weir, Chappell, & Kacelnik, 2002;

Emery & Clayton, 2004; Reiner, Perkel, Mello, & Jarvis, 2004).

Unlike routine problem solving, which deals with associative connections

within familiar perspectives, nonroutine creative problem solving

entails an innovative ability to make connections between wholly unrelated

perspectives or ideas. Again, this kind of problem solving can occur

as a result of imitation through another’s help—as in the above octopus

and chimpanzee examples—as well as on one’s own. A human seems to

be the only kind of being who can solve nonroutine problems on his or her

own, without imitation or help. This is not to say that humans do not engage

in solving nonroutine problems through imitation; in fact, nonroutine

problem solving by imitation occurs all of the time, especially in the earlier

years of a human’s life. This is just to say that humans are the only animals

who have the potential to consider wholly new routes to problem solving.

Koestler (1964) referred to this quality of the creative mind as a bissociation

of matrices. When a human bissociates, that person puts together ideas,

memories, representations, stimuli, and the like in wholly new and unfamiliar

ways for that person. Echoing Koestler, Boden (1990, p. 5) calls this

an ability to “juxtapose formerly unrelated ideas.” Thus, Dominowski

(1995, p. 77) claims that “overcoming convention and generating a new

understanding of a situation is considered to be an important component

of creativity.”

When animals associate, they put together perceptions, memories, representations,

stimuli, and the like in familiar ways. For example, my cat

associates my loud voice with her being in trouble for knocking the plant

over and runs away, the rat associates a route with food, and the octopus

associates corked-jar-experiment B with corked-jar-experiment A and

more quickly can unpop the cork on the jar to get at the food in subsequent

tests. As far as we know, animals can associate only, so they always go for solutions to problems that are related to the environment or situation

in which they typically reside. Humans bissociate and are able to

ignore normal associations and try out novel ideas and approaches in

solving problems. Such an ability to bissociate accounts for more advanced

forms of problem solving, whereby the routine or habitual associations

are the kinds of associations that precisely need to be avoided, ignored, or

bracketed out as irrelevant to the optional solution (Finke et al., 1992).

Bissociation also has been pointed to as an aid in accounting for risibility;

hypothesis formation; art; technological advances; and the proverbial

“ah-hah,” creative insight, eureka moments humans experience when

they come up with a new idea, insight, or tool (Koestler, 1964; Boden,

1990; Holyoak & Thagard, 1989, 1995; Terzis, 2001; Davidson, 1995; Arp,

2005a, 2008c).

Thus, when we ask how it is that humans can be creative, part of what

we are asking is how they bissociate, namely, juxtapose formerly unrelated

ideas in wholly new and unfamiliar ways for that person. To put it colloquially,

humans can take some idea found “way over here in the left fi eld” of the

mind and make some coherent connection with some other idea found

“way over here in the right fi eld” of the mind. Humans seem to be the

only species that can engage in this kind of mental activity, principally

with visual images and ideas.

Mithen’s idea of cognitive fl uidity helps to explain our ability to bissociate

because the potential is always there to make innovative, previously

unrelated connections between ideas or perceptions, given that the information

between and among modules has the capacity to be mixed together

or intermingle. Thus, in essence, cognitive fl uidity accounts for bissociation,

which accounts for human creativity in terms of problem solving,

art, ingenuity, and technology. This is not to say that the information

will in fact mix together and then be bissociated by an individual. This is

just to say that there is always the potential for such a mental process to

occur in our species. In the words of Finke et al. (1992, p. 2), “people can

generate original images that lead to insight and innovation or commonplace

images that lead nowhere, depending on the properties of those

images.”