What is it like to be a bat

In the famous proof that consciousness cannot be material, Thomas Nagel asks a question: “What is it like to be a bat?” The essence of the proof is that even if one were to study and know every single aspect of the bat’s nervous system, one would still not know what it is like to be a bat — to have an experience of being a bat. (The bat is used to make the example more stark. Bats use echolocation to navigate in space. In other words, bats “see” through their hearing.)

So, if you know everything about the system which is physical but still don’t know X (which is part of the system), then X must be not physical. In this case, X is consciousness.

This is a good example of what it is like to know English well enough to understand many (maybe most) words in a text, and have a lot of words sound familiar, but still not to understand what the text is saying:

riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.

Sir Tristram, violer d'amores, fr'over the short sea, had passen core rearrived from North Armorica on this side the scraggy isthmus of Europe Minor to wielderfight his penisolate war: nor had topsawyer's rocks by the stream Oconee exaggerated themselse to Laurens County's gorgios while they went doublin their mumper all the time: nor avoice from afire bellowsed mishe mishe to tauftauf thuartpeatrick: not yet, though venissoon after, had a kidscad buttended a bland old isaac: not yet, though all's fair in vanessy, were sosie sesthers wroth with twone nathandjoe. Rot a peck of pa's malt had Jhem or Shen brewed by arclight and rory end to the regginbrow was to be seen ringsome on the aquaface.

This is what a game of baseball looks like to a foreigner: