Human consciousness
Human consciousness cannot be reduced to the activity of matter alone, nor can the human being be dismissed as nothing more than a temporary arrangement of cells destined to vanish into nothingness at death. The Islamic worldview, rooted in Tawḥīd — the absolute Oneness of Allah — provides a more coherent, rational, and comprehensive understanding of human existence, consciousness, and destiny. Science, no doubt, is a powerful tool for uncovering the mechanisms of the physical world, but its success in describing material processes does not justify the metaphysical leap into materialism, the belief that reality is exhausted by matter. This leap is an assumption, not a conclusion of evidence. To take materialism as the ultimate truth is to confuse the method of studying signs with the reality those signs point toward, mistaking the map for the territory.
Even at the heart of modern neuroscience, the problem of consciousness remains unsolved. Science can trace correlations between brain activity and mental states, but correlation is not causation, and it cannot explain why subjective awareness — the “what it is like” to be — accompanies those physical processes. This gap is not an illusion but a profound limitation of materialist accounts. The Qur’an itself affirms this mystery when it says: “They ask you about the Spirit. Say: The Spirit is from the command of my Lord, and you have been given of knowledge only a little” (17:85). The reality of the rūḥ, the soul breathed into man by Allah, provides a metaphysical foundation that science alone cannot supply. Consciousness, identity, and free will are intelligible only when understood as gifts rooted in the Divine command, not reducible to neurons firing blindly in a purposeless cosmos.
The persistence of the self across the radical changes of the body is also a sign. Our cells, our very matter, are constantly replaced, yet the “I” remains. This enduring identity is not explained by shifting atoms but by the continuity of the soul, which carries moral responsibility and agency. Without the soul, notions of accountability, freedom of choice, and justice collapse into the determinism of physics. But Allah declares: “That every soul may be recompensed for what it earned, and they will not be wronged” (45:22). The Qur’an grounds human dignity in this accountability, which presupposes more than material processes: it presupposes a soul.
Moreover, the very existence of meaning, information, values, and morality defies reduction to brute matter. Syntax can be described materially, but semantics, intentionality, and value require transcendence. Within Tawḥīd, this is no mystery: meaning is grounded in the Divine Word, and human beings are created with fiṭrah, an innate orientation toward truth, morality, and worship. “So set your face to the religion as a ḥanīf — the fiṭrah of Allah upon which He created mankind” (30:30). This explains why humanity across cultures universally seeks purpose, values, and ultimate truth.
The distinction between contingency and necessity provides further clarity. The cosmos itself is contingent; it could have not existed. Its laws, its matter, and its conscious beings are dependent realities. To posit an eternal, impersonal material substrate as the explanation is to relocate, not solve, the problem. Islam resolves this by grounding existence in al-Wājib al-Wujūd, the Necessary Being, Allah — self-subsistent, absolute, and eternal. Within this metaphysical system, the soul is not magical fantasy but a created and purposeful reality, intelligible as part of the Divine design and destined to return to its Creator. “Indeed we belong to Allah, and to Him we shall return” (2:156).
Even empirical observations point to dimensions beyond reductionist materialism. Reports of near-death experiences, cases of cognition seemingly independent of normal brain function, and the striking universality of moral intuitions across humanity all serve as reminders that human reality is more profound than chemistry and biology. The Qur’an directs us to these signs: “We will show them Our signs in the horizons and within themselves until it becomes clear to them that it is the Truth” (41:53). Denial of these realities is not intellectual humility, but a premature closure of inquiry.
The accusation that belief in the soul is mere wishful thinking ignores the fact that materialism itself is a metaphysical stance equally requiring justification. To claim “there is no soul, only matter” is not neutral science but philosophy. Both claims must be defended, and the Islamic position, far from being grounded in fear of death, is based on the recognition of order, purpose, meaning, and responsibility woven into existence. The Qur’an diagnoses the true reason for denial: “Rather, they deny the Hereafter” (30:16).
Thus, the truly humble scholar admits the limits of human knowledge and does not dismiss centuries of reflection by prophets, sages, and philosophers as mere denial of mortality. Allah reminds us: “Of knowledge, you have been given but little” (17:85). Arrogance before this mystery is the mark not of reason but of pride. The Qur’an consistently condemns this attitude, as with Iblīs who refused to acknowledge a truth greater than his pride.
Rejecting the soul because one dislikes the idea of accountability or fears death is not philosophy but psychology. Accepting the soul, by contrast, is to acknowledge the reality of consciousness, identity, freedom, meaning, and contingency, all of which demand more than matter for their explanation. It is to recognize that man is not merely dust, but dust into which Allah breathed His spirit, ennobling him and making him responsible. In the light of Tawḥīd, the soul is not superstition but the very center of what makes us human, a sign of the Divine, and the bearer of our eternal destiny.