‘Something is there in objective reality,’ says Hoffman, and ‘we humans experience its import in terms of DNA, RNA, chromosomes, organisms, or resources.’ Help! Where are we? Surely, in a weird sort of moebius strip: unlike Berkeley, Hoffman can’t invoke God to prop everything up. The Case Against Reality is fascinating, but it left me more frustrated than a male jewel beetle on an old-style Australian beer bottle.
This is a thoughtful, stretching and occasionally brilliant book. But what it says about perception seems faintly obvious to me, not faintly mad. And the stuff about the relationship between reality and consciousness? Certifiably Californian.