While Wild System Theory primarily seems to offer new possibilities for how to study human experiences and engagement with the world, it actually does more: it helps to develop a “theory ‘of what people are’” (Jordan & Day this collection, p. 20) by shifting our understanding of the relationships between brain, mind, body, and world. These possibilities challenge dichotomies that have for a long time dominated classical philosophical views of what human beings are and how they reason and experience. John Dewey argued against a series of dichotomies that were abundant in philosophy, such as those of mind versus body, fact versus value, internal versus external, and experience versus nature by explicating the role of continuities, e.g., between mind and body, and the importance of action for experience. A better understanding of circular causalities is necessary in order for us to be able to see humans as continually changing bodily organisms that incorporate their histories of past interactions with their environments, successful adaptations, and learning processes—each shaped their particular way of being in the world.[5] Such a systems perspective does not seek to understand the brain in isolation, but a person in his or her idiosyncratic context.
Crucially, the approaches fostered already by John Dewey, which have today been rediscovered by philosophers and neuroscientists alike, are in fine accordance with phenomenological descriptions of what it is like to experience. How those perspectives converge into a science of mind is still to be elaborated and might receive inspiration from neurophenomenology, with its call to take seriously introspective phenomenological reports (Lutz & Thompson 2003; Varela 1996). In particular, it can be worthwhile to take this view to psychiatry, as a clinical field deeply dependent on a sensitive understanding of the relation between mind, brain, the rest of the body, and the environment. In psychiatry it becomes particularly evident that dealing with persons is not the same as dealing with brains. For example, explaining depression as a mere chemical imbalance based on a lack of serotonine (a popular statement that does not by any means hold universally, even if one follows a strong reductionist account) does not do justice to the complex causal relationships leading to the pathology. Thomas Fuchs compellingly suggests giving up the classic physical–mental dichotomy that is present in biomedical reductionism, to develop a proper understanding of the circular causality between an organism and its environment (Fuchs 2009, 2011). Fuchs explains how an ecological concept of mental illness does justice to findings about how disorders are a product of the complex interaction of subjective, neuronal, social, and environmental influences. This does not only matter for our understanding of mental illnesses, but also importantly impacts on how we approach treatments at various levels. The essential relevance of recognizing circular causalities in the brain–body–world interaction can also be seen in neurological treatment and in the psychological reactions of patients to treatments. Beliefs about the relationship between brain and mind and how they relate to one’s personality and psychological well-being might influence reactions to neurological or neurosurgical interventions. In particular, for treatment with deep brain stimulation it has been argued that a framework that is neither dualistic nor braincentric, but which offers a perspective that recognizes the manifold interaction between mind, body, and world can have beneficial effects on patients and their surrounding (Mecacci & Haselager 2014; Keyser & Nagel 2014). Thus, the quality of therapeutic approaches might benefit from examining more holistic approaches to psychiatric disorders and therapies. Ultimately, these theoretical considerations can be crucially relevant for life in all its facets.