> We know a ton about the brain but so little about the mind itself. We still don't have definitive answers to what consciousness is, why it's here, what's useful for, etc. Some people debate whether the mind exists at all. Also, there's still very little understanding of the difference between the conscious and unconscious mind.
One of the really, really bad consequences of the Cold War was the scientific divide between East and West. By that I mean serious lack of scientific data exchange between the blocks. The consequences are still felt and this area (the problem of consciousness) is the one that suffered. The problem of "consciousness" was basically solved, at least at a conceptual level, by Soviet psychology and neuropsychology. Here I refer, of course, to the work of Vygotsky and Luria. What is consciousness? Almost nothing at all by itself. Consciousness as found in humans is a consequence of our cognitive development and the advanced symbolic capabilities of humans. The subjective perception we have of the thing we call consciousness is "simply" (it's not really simple when you get into details) a product of humans acquiring language skills (I'm simplifying).
This is not to say the subject is trivial, it takes volumes to describe what is happening, but the thing we informally call "consciousness" is really nothing at all in and of itself, and the perception we have of it is just a result of the very complicated process of cognitive development. Thin air, like Lisp's cons.
If you want to read on it I can recommend Vygotsky's Language and Thought (actually, it's his only book) and Luria's Language and Consciousness (I'm not sure it was ever translated into English, it's a collection of his lecture notes from a university course he did on the subject) or possibly The Cognitive Development: Its Cultural and Social Foundations.
Why this line of thinking is mostly ignored in the West I have no idea. Why do we still cling to metaphysical (even religious I would say) phantasies about "consciousness" is an interesting topic itself. Is it because it's romantic to think there's something special, transcendent, about our minds? Are we really that sentimental? I have some hypotheses, but it's a different topic.