The Compass of Consciousness
Rethinking the Claustrum as the Seat of Subjective Orientation
Ramsay Allan
Essay — 2025
Originally prepared for the Berggruen Prize Essay Competition (Theme: Consciousness).
About this text
The Compass of Consciousness was written as part of my ongoing exploration of awareness, perception, and orientation — themes that also underpin my painting practice. While the essay develops a conceptual model of consciousness through neuroscience, philosophy, and spiritual psychology, my interest lies less in scientific certainty than in how such models shape our understanding of being, responsibility, and inner direction.
The ideas explored here inform my visual work, particularly my view of identity as relational and evolving rather than fixed. This text reflects one strand of the research-based thinking that runs alongside my studio practice.
Introduction
What makes us conscious?
A simple answer to this age-old conundrum of self-awareness is still as evasive as ever it was. From Descartes’ cogito to Chalmers’ “hard problem,” from the mystics of the East to the philosophers of the West, consciousness has been treated as both the crown jewel of the human condition and the great riddle of existence. In recent decades, neuroscience has begun to illuminate the physical structures that correlate with conscious states. And yet, for all our scanning, modelling, and theorising, a profound problem still remains: not just how we are conscious, but why consciousness can feel somewhat directed — and also why it has the perceived quality of coherence, purpose, and presence.
Among the least understood structures in the brain is the claustrum — a thin, irregular sheet of grey matter located beneath the cortex that is connected with almost all regions of the brain. Christof Koch and Francis Crick once speculated that it could be the “conductor” of consciousness, binding the disparate nodes of perception into a unified mental orchestration. But this picture, however attractive, might still fall some way short of capturing consciousness as we live it, seemingly aimed and directed by an observer.
This essay proposes a new model of consciousness, one that places the claustrum at the core as a navigational compass. My argument here is that consciousness is fundamentally a process of orientation — a continuous act of aligning the self within the terrain of our emotional state of being and of what we perceive. The claustrum, in this view, serves as the neural axis of this orientation, functioning to process and unify input, as well as to stabilise directionality — to allow our consciousness to know where it is, and to consider where it is going.
Drawing upon neuroscience, quantum theory, spiritual psychology, and ancient philosophical insight, I propose the Compass Model of Consciousness. This model integrates emerging understandings of the claustrum with the deep human intuition that we are processing the world around us and navigating a course through it. My suggestion here is that the claustrum may represent the interface through which the observer — whether interpreted as subjective awareness or our spiritual self — meets the physical realm, choosing a life path from a field of possible realities.
In what follows, I trace the scientific and philosophical basis for this model, explore its resonance with spiritual traditions and modern neuroscience, and consider its implications for cosmology, and human evolution. My aim here is simply to offer a new metaphor that might help us reorient the question of consciousness itself.
II
The Claustrum – The Inner Compass of Consciousness
In 2005, a little-known structure within the human brain began to attract the attention of neuroscientists. Christof Koch, working closely with Francis Crick during the final years of the latter’s life, proposed that this structure, the claustrum, might hold the key to consciousness. Situated just beneath the cortex, the claustrum is uniquely connected to nearly every area of the brain, prompting Koch and Crick to liken it to a conductor of consciousness—a central node capable of synchronizing the vast network of neural activity into the seamless and unified cohesion of subjective awareness.1
But what if this analogy is incomplete? What if the claustrum does more than orchestrate?
This essay proposes a new metaphor: the claustrum as an inner compass. Rather than passively integrating inputs, it actively orients consciousness across multiple sensory, emotional, temporal, and perhaps even spiritual dimensions.
Whereas models like Baars’ Global Workspace Theory and Tononi’s Integrated Information Theory focus on how consciousness arises from the complexity or availability of information, the compass hypothesis introduces a different function: that of directionality. The claustrum may provide the brain with a continuously updating orientation—a stabilised sense of “where” and “who” we are within the ongoing flux of perception and memory. It synchronises experience and points the self toward coherence.
Koch and Crick’s early speculations support this possibility. The claustrum is one of the few structures with direct, bidirectional connections to almost every cortical region.2 This expansive network suggests a role in global integration. One striking case—a patient who temporarily lost consciousness when the claustrum was electrically stimulated suggests that it is central to conscious state regulation.3
Yet integration alone may not be enough. What I propose here is that the claustrum unifies the content of experience and continuously realigns it, anchoring the self in an internal trajectory of meaning and responsiveness.
This reframing necessitates consideration from outside neuroscience, particularly from quantum theory. In the famous double-slit experiment, particles behave differently when observed, suggesting that observation itself may influence the realisation of physical outcomes. While it remains contentious whether consciousness causes this effect, the philosophical implications are profound. What I find fascinating is that reality appears to behave differently in the presence of an observer.4
If the claustrum acts as the brain’s orientational axis, might it represent the neural interface of this observer function? By selecting from a sea of perceptual possibilities it makes sense of a world out of potential to become a living actuality. The claustrum, in this light, might be the mechanism through which the self stabilises its direction within human experience, seperating meaning out of the noise.
And so this raises a deeper question, often posed by spiritual traditions: Who is the observer? Could it be that the claustrum serves as the threshold between our brain and our spiritual being—a structure through which the spiritual self enters into, and navigates the material plane? This notion aligns with the view found in many mystical traditions: that although we might be human beings seeking spiritual insight, we are more importantly spiritual beings having a human experience.5
Without making metaphysical claims, I suggest that the claustrum functions as a biological portal for this alignment, or connection allowing an invisible observer to enact direction within the flow of time and our sensations. It could certainly be the source of our consciousness, but to my mind, also its essential navigational compass.
Section II Footnotes:
1. Crick, F., & Koch, C. (2005). What is the function of the claustrum? Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, 360(1458), 1271–1279.
2. Smythies, J., Edelstein, L., & Ramachandran, V. S. (2014). Hypotheses relating to the function of the claustrum. Frontiers in Integrative Neuroscience, 8, 102.
3. Koubeissi, M. Z., Bartolomei, F., Beltagy, A., & Picard, F. (2014). Electrical stimulation of a small brain area reversibly disrupts consciousness. Epilepsy & Behavior, 37, 32–35.
4. Rosenblum, B., & Kuttner, F. (2006). Quantum Enigma: Physics Encounters Consciousness. Oxford University Press. See also Wheeler, J. A. (1983). Law Without Law in Quantum Theory and Measurement.
5. de Chardin, P. T. (1959). The Phenomenon of Man. Harper & Row; James, W. (1902). The Varieties of Religious Experience. Longmans, Green.
III
Spiritual Navigation and Subjective Orientation
If the claustrum functions as a compass within the architecture of consciousness— aligning perception, emotion, and memory into a coherent trajectory—then we must ask: What does it orient us toward? What determines the “true north” of the conscious mind?
As far as I know, in conventional neuroscience, orientation is typically framed in physical terms: the brain maps our position in space and time, prioritises and responds to importance, and regulates our focus. But human experience reaches further. We navigate values, purpose, relationships, and existential choices that are dimensions with no physical coordinates, and yet are rich in substance. These subtle orientations cannot be reduced to spatial mapping. They suggest that consciousness is drawn towards something. This is where the compass metaphor deepens, as it implies that consciousness is aimed, seeking alignment with something beyond moment-to-moment sensations.
This idea resonates powerfully with the work of Dr. Lisa Miller, whose research on the neuroscience of spirituality suggests that the human brain is biologically predisposed to perceive and respond to transcendent meaning. In her studies, individuals with a strong spiritual orientation exhibited greater resilience to depression, increased functional connectivity in key regions such as the default mode network, and heightened activity in areas associated with moral reasoning and empathy.6 Crucially, Miller defines spirituality as an intuitive sense of direction—a way of knowing that guides individuals toward coherence, compassion, and inner clarity.7
In this light, the claustrum’s hypothesised function as an orientational integrator finds psychological grounding. Spirituality, as understood through both neuroscience and living experience, may be a natural expression of the brain’s capacity to navigate meaning rather than an anomaly or a by-product. If the claustrum helps align inputs into a unified conscious trajectory, it may also support this internal sense of spiritual direction—guiding individuals towards moral values, truths, or visions that feel existentially “correct,” even if they aren’t empirically verifiable.
Such intuitions are hardly new. Across cultures, ancient traditions have described the human being as a traveller—a soul or spirit navigating through the world, rather than a static entity. In Vedanta, the antaryamin is the inner guide or “indwelling witness,” quietly directing the self toward wisdom.8 In Taoism, spiritual harmony lies in harmony with the Dao—the subtle flow of universal order.9 Many Indigenous cosmologies describe consciousness as an active participant in the world’s unfolding, guided by their ancestry through resonance that they feel.10
These traditions share the belief that consciousness is relational, responsive, and directional. They suggest that the self is a processor of inputs, a way-finder, or subject that is in search of harmony between their inner being and outer reality.
The Compass Model provides a neuroscientific framework through which these age- old intuitions can be newly understood. The claustrum, I propose, may function as a biological substrate for inner alignment—ethically, aesthetically, and spiritually, as well as spatially. Just as a compass needle aligns with invisible magnetic fields, the conscious self may be aligning subconsciously, continuously and with invisible dimensions.
So, what guides this alignment?
Maybe it is the observer itself—the spiritual entity (our real self), that experiences, chooses, and adjusts its orientation in each unfolding moment, possibly partly based on previous experience and spiritual progression. In this view, the claustrum becomes the plane of translation between the indefinable and the manifest, thereby allowing the subjective observer to enact coherent presence in a fluctuating, and unpredictable world.
You might consider this to be a somewhat mystical claim, but to my mind it is a philosophical one. It suggests that consciousness might include self-awareness as an inherent progression towards a deeper understanding. Orientation, in this model, is both mechanical and existential. And the claustrum, as the integrative compass, might just be the axis on which this progressive movement turns.
Section III Footnotes:
6. Miller, L., et al. (2012). Neural correlates of spirituality and depression risk in adolescents. Journal of Psychiatric Research, 46(9), 1004–1013.
7. Miller, L. (2021). The Awakened Brain: The New Science of Spirituality and Our Quest for an Inspired Life. Random House.
8. Vivekananda, S. (1899). Jnana Yoga. Ramakrishna-Vivekananda Center.
9. Watts, A. (1957). The Way of Zen. Pantheon Books.
10. Deloria, V. (1994). God Is Red: A Native View of Religion. Fulcrum Publishing.
IV
The Compass Model of Consciousness
If we accept that the claustrum functions as a unifying orchestrator of experience, and as a dynamic orienting mechanism, then a new model of consciousness becomes apparent—one that reframes awareness as an active process of navigation through layers of essence and understanding, rather than a passive state or an accidental by-product of chaos.
I call this the Compass Model of Consciousness.
This model posits that consciousness is a directional faculty, a process of aligning the self with context, perception, emotions, and intention. Like a compass, it is continually adjusting and stabilising orientation. The claustrum, in this view, is the axis of consciousness—a biological structure through which the spiritual or subjective self interfaces with the world, allowing the self to track, adjust, and move through coherent inner and outer space.
This contrasts with existing contemporary theories that have laid vital groundwork but still leave unresolved the qualitative experience of selfhood, coherence, and directedness:
• Integrated Information Theory (IIT), proposed by Giulio Tononi, defines consciousness as the degree of irreducible informational integration in a system.11 While mathematically robust, it remains impersonal—unable to explain why consciousness feels like a situated presence.12
• Global Workspace Theory (GWT), advanced by Bernard Baars, views consciousness as a “spotlight” projecting mental contents onto a cognitive stage.13 It maps attention well, but cannot explain why the “spotlight” feels self-directed, or how meaning emerges within it.
• Higher-Order Thought (HOT) Theories argue that consciousness arises when a mental state becomes the object of another mental state—when we know that we know.14 These accounts explain meta-awareness, but not felt orientation—the subjective pull toward goals, values, or truths. The Compass Model introduces a key missing piece: directionality. We are not simply aware—we are always aware in a direction: towards a goal, a memory, an inner resolution. The claustrum may support this through its bidirectional cortical integration, acting as a gyroscopic stabiliser that maintains internal consistency even as conditions change.
⬩ Core Components of the Model
1. Multidimensional Input Processing - The claustrum’s extensive connectivity allows it to draw from nearly every cortical region—sensory, motor, limbic, default mode, and more. The Compass Model holds that these inputs are evaluated for directional relevance, forming a dynamic map of “where I am” in meaning-space.
2. Directional Awareness - The defining feature of conscious experience is not just content, but vector. We feel pulled toward what matters, disturbed when we are off-course. Consciousness, in this model, is orientational presence—an evolving alignment process across inner and outer states.
3. Observer Interface - The model allows space for a subjective or spiritual self as a navigating agent whose experience is enabled through the claustrum’s integrative functions. This preserves spiritual intuitions while grounding them in plausible neuroscience.
4. Collapse of Potential into Actuality - Echoing the observer effect in quantum physics, the Compass Model proposes that orientation plays a role in the actualisation of experienced reality philosophically. The observer, via the claustrum, selects and stabilises a subjective trajectory from among many latent possibilities.15
⬩ Philosophical Implications
This reframing transforms the question of consciousness. It asks what we are aware of, and why we are directed as we are. It offers a framework for understanding selfhood as a form of orientation and suffering, confusion, or spiritual growth as disruptions or refinements of that orientation.
This model also opens bridges between our brain and the spirit. It explains why ritual, memory, story, and relevance all help us “find our way back.” It validates the intuition that the goal is cognition, and alignment.
In this view, the claustrum is a conductor of information and the axis of becoming. And consciousness is direction in motion.
Section IV Footnotes:
11. Tononi, G. (2004). An information integration theory of consciousness. BMC Neuroscience, 5(1), 42.
12. Koch, C., Massimini, M., Boly, M., & Tononi, G. (2016). Neural correlates of consciousness: Progress and problems. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 17(5), 307– 321.
13. Baars, B. J. (1988). A Cognitive Theory of Consciousness. Cambridge University Press.
14. Rosenthal, D. M. (2005). Consciousness and Mind. Oxford University Press.
15. Rosenblum, B., & Kuttner, F. (2006). Quantum Enigma: Physics Encounters Consciousness. Oxford University Press.
V
Implications — Machines, Cosmologies, and the Future of Being
If consciousness is fundamentally orientational, as the Compass Model suggests, then its implications reach well beyond the brain. This reframing affects how we understand artificial intelligence, interpret cross-cultural cosmologies, and envision the future of human development.
⬩ 1. Artificial Intelligence: Can Machines Truly Orient?
Modern artificial intelligence can solve equations, generate language, and mimic patterns of thought. Yet even the most sophisticated systems lack something intrinsic to conscious life: a sense of direction. AI systems may possess complexity and responsiveness, but they are not situated subjects. They do not feel oriented toward purpose or meaning, and nor do they choose from within.
The Compass Model suggests that true consciousness is the capacity to orient within a meaningful context. If the claustrum is indeed the neural axis through which orientation is enacted, its absence in machines may point to a qualitative boundary between artificial cognition and subjective experience.
Efforts to imbue AI with higher-order thought or complexity metrics (such as those informed by IIT or GWT) may simulate consciousness, but without an orientational substrate, such simulations lack what philosophers call phenomenological interiority—the “what it’s like” of being.16
This has significant implications for AI ethics. It suggests that sentience may require pattern recognition or self-reference, as well as directional awareness—a navigational subjectivity that artificial systems may not be structurally capable of replicating.
⬩ 2. Cross-Cultural Cosmologies: Reclaiming the Compass
The Compass Model also resonates with traditions that have long regarded life as a journey and the self as a travelling presence. From Indigenous teachings to mystical Eastern philosophies, orientation has been a central metaphor for being. To “walk in balance,” “follow the way,” or “listen to the inner guide” are descriptions of conscious alignment.
In many Indigenous cosmologies, consciousness is deeply relational—tied to land, ancestors, communities, and the unseen. Orientation is spiritual and ethical.17 In Taoist philosophy, the Dao is a path of attunement. One must feel the way forward through harmony rather than calculation.18
The Compass Model helps translate these world views into contemporary language. It offers a way to honour them without reduction, and to frame spiritual wisdom as phenomenologically valid, rather than pre-scientific. It reopens a dialogue between modern neuroscience and the epistemologies of Indigenous and spiritual traditions.
⬩ 3. Human Evolution: Consciousness as Ethical Orientation
Finally, if consciousness is fundamentally about how we orient, then the future of human evolution may depend on our deepening alignment. Intelligence alone does not guarantee wisdom. Data does not lead to direction. A society rich in knowledge but poor in orientation becomes, in effect, consciously lost.
The Compass Model redefines the good life as a life of inner coherence—the ongoing refinement of directional clarity. Mental health, moral development, and even spiritual growth can be seen as acts of reorientation—of returning the compass needle toward the deeper truths we often lose sight of.
In this model, the claustrum becomes a biological curiosity, and the neural threshold of alignment—where experiences and values coalesce. And consciousness becomes the act of navigating the world with a compass that responds to facts and meaning.
Section V Footnotes:
16. Chalmers, D. J. (1996). The Conscious Mind: In Search of a Fundamental Theory. Oxford University Press.
17. Deloria, V. (1994). God Is Red: A Native View of Religion. Fulcrum Publishing. 18. Watts, A. (1957). The Way of Zen. Pantheon Books.
VI
Conclusion — Consciousness as a Compass, and The Self as a Pilgrim
What is consciousness?
This question, as old as self-awareness itself, has travelled across disciplines, cultures, and centuries, through metaphysics and mysticism, neuroscience and computation, solitude and society. It has been called a spark, an illusion, a stage, and a stream. Yet none of these metaphors fully capture the living truth of conscious experience: that to be conscious is to register the world, and to navigate through it—to find oneself somewhere, facing somewhere else, drawn by something invisible and to be deeply felt.
In this essay, I have proposed a new conceptual model—one that places the claustrum as the compass of conscious life. I’ve argued that consciousness is fundamentally a process of orientation, a dynamic act of aligning perceptions, memories, feelings, and purpose in the unfolding present. In this view, the claustrum becomes a biological axis of coherence, enabling the observer, whether understood scientifically or spiritually, to enact our presence within a field of meaning.
This Compass Model resonates with insights from quantum physics, where the role of the observer appears to shape outcomes at the most fundamental levels of reality.19 It harmonises with spiritual traditions that describe life as a journey and the soul as a traveller.20 And it speaks to modern existential challenges by offering a way to understand suffering as disorientation—a loss of inner direction of the compass needle that once pointed towards coherence and understanding.
I’m not claiming that the claustrum is consciousness, nor that this model solves the hard problem. What I’m offering is simply a new metaphor, rooted in both neuroscience and human wisdom: a way to reframe consciousness as an act of becoming. To be conscious is to choose a path—to stand as a subject amid endless possibility, and attuned to some deeper gravity of meaning.
In an era increasingly defined by artificial systems and disembodied data, this model reminds us that what makes us human is our capacity to think, and also our capacity to orient ourselves. To feel the pull of truth. To turn toward it. To walk in its direction.
For perhaps the true seat of consciousness is our own soul guiding us through this human experience via our spiritual compass.
Section VI Footnotes:
19. Wheeler, J. A. (1983). Law Without Law. In Quantum Theory and Measurement. Princeton University Press.
20. James, W. (1902). The Varieties of Religious Experience. Longmans, Green; de Chardin, P. T. (1959). The Phenomenon of Man. Harper & Row.
Bibliography
Baars, B. J. (1988). A Cognitive Theory of Consciousness. Cambridge University Press. Chalmers, D. J. (1996).
The Conscious Mind: In Search of a Fundamental Theory. Oxford University Press. Crick, F., & Koch, C. (2005).
What is the function of the claustrum? Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, 360(1458), 1271–1279. Deloria, V. (1994).
God Is Red: A Native View of Religion. Fulcrum Publishing.
de Chardin, P. T. (1959). The Phenomenon of Man. Harper & Row. James, W. (1902).
The Varieties of Religious Experience. Longmans, Green. Koch, C., Massimini, M., Boly, M., & Tononi, G. (2016).
Neural correlates of consciousness: Progress and problems. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 17(5), 307–321. Koubeissi, M. Z., Bartolomei, F., Beltagy, A., & Picard, F. (2014).
Electrical stimulation of a small brain area reversibly disrupts consciousness. Epilepsy & Behavior, 37, 32–35. Miller, L. (2021).
The Awakened Brain: The New Science of Spirituality and Our Quest for an Inspired Life. Random House. Miller, L., et al. (2012).
Neural correlates of spirituality and depression risk in adolescents. Journal of Psychiatric Research, 46(9), 1004–1013. Rosenblum, B., & Kuttner, F. (2006).
Quantum Enigma: Physics Encounters Consciousness. Oxford University Press. Rosenthal, D. M. (2005).
Consciousness and Mind. Oxford University Press. Smythies, J., Edelstein, L., & Ramachandran, V. S. (2014).
Hypotheses relating to the function of the claustrum. Frontiers in Integrative Neuroscience, 8, 102. Tononi, G. (2004).
An information integration theory of consciousness. BMC Neuroscience, 5(1), 42. Vivekananda, S. (1899).
Jnana Yoga. Ramakrishna-Vivekananda Center. Watts, A. (1957).
The Way of Zen. Pantheon Books. Wheeler, J. A. (1983).
Law Without Law. In Quantum Theory and Measurement. Princeton University Press.