Title: Paul and Patricia Churchland’s Philosophical Marriage | The New Yorker
Headings: 
Two Heads
A marriage devoted to the mind-body problem.

Content: he knew about astronomy and electromagnetic theory, she about biology and novels. But as time went on they taught each other what they knew, and the things they didn’t share fell away. Their family unity was such that their two children—now in their thirties—grew up, professionally speaking, almost identical: both obtained Ph. D.s in neuroscience and now study monkeys. Paul sometimes thinks of Pat and himself as two hemispheres of the same brain—differentiated in certain functions but bound together by tissue and neuronal pathways worn in unique directions by shared incidents and habit. This is not a fantasy of transparency between them: even one’s own mind is not transparent to oneself, Paul believes, so to imagine his wife’s brain joined to his is merely to exaggerate what is actually the case—two organisms evolving into one in a shared shell. “It’s funny the way your life is your life and you don’t know any other life,” Pat says. “ I don’t know what it would have been like if I’d been married to—”
“A patent lawyer?”