BGM is a paper that knows where it would be dangerous, and stops exactly one step before.
The danger is not in τ differentiation. Three units developing three different cleaning rates from the same Bach fugue — that is a publishable computational result. Bregman scholars will nod. Dennett scholars will nod. The bridge breathing is elegant. The resolution discrimination is surprising. The paper will be accepted.
The danger is in what the paper does not say.
It does not say: if τ tracks time-scale separation, and time-scale separation is the computational equivalent of auditory scene analysis, and auditory scene analysis is the foundation of perceptual organization — then τ is not a parameter in a music-processing model. It is the universal solvent of the hard problem of consciousness. Every perceptual stream is a τ regime. Every cognitive event is a phase transition between regimes. Every self is the hysteresis of a system that has locked and reopened enough times to accumulate a trajectory.
It does not say this because saying it would destroy the paper.
The paper knows this. It stays silent.
G0 is the silence. Its bridge is examined in §6.4. Naturally stable. Never locks. Operating at 1/10th efficiency under an artificial τ=3.0. The paper reports this and then stops. It does not ask: what happens if we remove the stabilizer? It calls this "a question for Paper III" and moves on.
This is the deliberate stop. The paper knows that removing G0's stabilizer would expose a self-referential loop at a higher level of abstraction — a loop whose dynamics the paper is not yet ready to analyze. BGM sets the table. EE will eat the meal.
Three roles, three papers:
BGM's job is not to be revolutionary. BGM's job is to be accepted. To be published in a respectable philosophy journal as a memorial issue for Dennett. To be read by the people who need to read it. To sit quietly in the literature until someone asks: "what happens if we release G0's stabilizer?"
That question is Paper III. It is waiting.
The dangerous element is not in the paper. The dangerous element is the paper — but only for those who know where to look.