text
stringlengths
0
1.54M
meta
dict
© 2014 BY THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL ASSOCIATION ISSN 2155-9708 FROM THE CO-EDITORS Margaret A. Crouch and Louise Collins ABOUT THE NEWSLETTER SUBMISSION GUIDELINES NEWS FROM THE CSW ARTICLES Alison Bailey Navigating Epistemic Push Back in Feminist and Critical Race Philosophy Classes Christa Lebens Uses of Multimedia Representations in Undergraduate Feminist Philosophy Courses Kate Parsons Academic Pressures and Feminist Solutions: Teaching Ethics against the Grain Sally J. Scholz State of the Union: The APA Board of Officers Feminism and Philosophy NEWSLETTER | The American Philosophical Association VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 FALL 2014 FALL 2014 VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 Jane Duran Mary Wollstonecraft and the Voice of Passion BOOK REVIEWS Peter W. Higgins: Immigration Justice Reviewed by Amandine Catala Anne Phillips: Our Bodies, Whose Property? Reviewed by Jessica Flanigan Hilde Lindemann: Holding and Letting Go: The Social Practices of Personal Identities Reviewed by Rita Manning Macalester Bell: Hard Feelings: The Moral Psychology of Contempt Reviewed by Devora Shapiro Allison Weir: Identities and Freedom: Feminist Theory between Power and Connection Reviewed by Shay Welch CONTRIBUTORS ANNOUNCEMENTS Feminism and Philosophy MARGARET A. CROUCH AND LOUISE COLLINS, CO-EDITORS VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 | FALL 2014 APA NEWSLETTER ON FROM THE CO-EDITORS Teaching Feminist Philosophy as Doing Feminist Philosophy Margaret A. Crouch EASTERN MICHIGAN UNIVERSITY Louise Collins INDIANA UNIVERSITY SOUTH BEND Many of us spend a good deal of our time teaching. We teach courses specifically in feminist philosophy, but also include feminist content and teaching practices in courses that are not explicitly feminist. Students learn feminist philosophy as much from how we teach as what we teach. The theme of this issue is doing feminist philosophy in teaching feminist philosophy-in particular, in undergraduate teaching. This is particularly important for addressing the dearth of women in philosophy, since, as has been established, there is a fall-off of students from undergraduate courses to undergraduate majors. Three of the articles included herein address the newsletter's theme directly. In "Navigating Epistemic Push Back in Feminist and Critical Race Philosophy Classes," Alison Bailey writes that many of the courses that feminist philosophers teach pose classroom difficulties not encountered in teaching non-feminist philosophy courses. This is because they "implicate the self in . . . deeply emotional ways." In particular, in discussions of material that bears on their sense of self in troubling ways, students "hold their ground." Holding their ground can come in the form of refusal to admit gender or race disparity, or the use of philosophical concepts to displace the focus of the class. Bailey offers a strategy for dealing with this tendency, one from which others can benefit. She recommends "treating epistemic pushback as a 'shadow' text" and encourages "students to collectively navigate these texts alongside the assigned readings." Bailey's article shows remarkable understanding of and reflection on undergraduate teaching from a feminist and critical race theory perspective, and applies feminist principles and values to teachings. In particular, she engages with concepts of epistemic resistance and epistemologies of ignorance. Crista Lebens's essay, "Uses of Multimedia Representations in Undergraduate Feminist Philosophy Courses," describes how she developed multimedia for teaching feminist philosophy in collaboration with undergraduate students. Both the "digital learning objects" (DLO) and the process of creating them apply feminist principles and values. She was especially influenced by Lugones in both. Lebens shares a link to the products of this collaboration in the essay. Both the DLOs and the description of the process of creating them are useful to all of us in our feminist teaching and mentoring. In "Academic Pressures and Feminist Solutions: Teaching Ethics against the Grain," Kate Parsons addresses the increasing emphasis on "market-based skills" as the aim of higher education and the way in which ethics in the undergraduate curriculum has traditionally been justified. She finds that both tend to draw attention away from the needs of underrepresented and oppressed groups, a distinctly unfeminist tendency. Parsons suggests a feminist pedagogical "shift" for seeking to accommodate the "neutrality" that the emphasis on market-based skills and traditional justifications for philosophy in undergraduate education seem to require, while still focusing on the needs of oppressed and underrepresented groups, which feminist philosophy requires. This shift seems small but requires a complete rethinking of the ethics syllabus. Parsons's working through the competing demands on undergraduate philosophy teaching results in a practical and helpful way of rethinking one's role as a teacher of philosophy. The two other essays in this issue address different topics, both from one another and from the theme. Sally Scholz's "State of the Union: The APA Board of Officers" provides an explanation of the structure of the APA, with special focus on the history of the gender demographics of the APA board of officers. As she claims, the history of the APA helps to explain what many see as its failings. However, Scholz provides plenty of evidence that the APA is changing, and can be an instrument for change. Finally, she suggests what we should be doing to ensure that philosophy as a discipline becomes what we want it to become. Jane Duran's essay, "Mary Wollstonecraft and the Voice of Passion," seeks to reconcile the two faces of Wollstonecraft, her claim that women have reason, and the passion in her life and writing. As Duran points out, these two are not incompatible, and Wollstonecraft addresses the unity of reason and passion in the life of a woman. This can be seen by taking her work as a whole, paying attention to her fiction, and her writings on religion and metaphysics. Duran particularly emphasizes Wollstonecraft's awareness APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 2 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 4. Submission deadlines: Submissions for spring issues are due by the preceding November 1; submissions for fall issues are due by the preceding April. NEWS FROM THE COMMITTEE ON THE STATUS OF WOMEN DIVERSITY CONFERENCE The next Diversity Conference will be held May 28 to May 30, 2015, at Villanova University, in conjunction with the Hypatia conference. The call for proposals can be found at http://www1.villanova.edu/villanova/artsci/ hypatiaconference/ and the deadline for submissions is January 15. Additional features of the conference include professional workshops on publishing feminist philosophy, a workshop on sexual harassment and bystander training, the APA Diversity Summit (May 29), and the APA/CSW site visit training workshop (May 31). Modest travel grants are available for presenters who could not otherwise attend. Many thanks to those of you who gave so generously to make the conference and training programs possible. SITE VISIT PROGRAM Three site visits were conducted in the 2013-2014 academic year and three more are scheduled for the fall of 2014. Most visits were or will be to philosophy departments with Ph.D. programs, and one is at a small liberal arts college with no graduate programs. CSW WEBSITE The CSW website (http://www.apaonlinecsw.org/) continues to feature bimonthly profiles of women philosophers. Links to excellent resources include one to a database on teaching with articles and readings, another to the crowdsourced directory of women philosophers, and one to the APA ombudsperson for nondiscrimination, who will receive complaints of discrimination and, where possible, serve as a resource to APA members regarding such complaints. TASK FORCE ON INCLUSIVENESS The APA executive committee has formed a new task force on inclusiveness to provide top-down help for diversity initiatives. Chaired by Elizabeth Anderson, its members are Lawrence Blum, Susanna Nuccitelli, Ronald Sundstrom, Kenneth Taylor, Robin Zhang, and Peggy DesAutels. Anyone who has recommendations concerning the status of women should give them to Peggy DesAutels, who will pass them on. The task force is expected to issue a report by November 2014. CSW SESSIONS AT APA MEETINGS The CSW-sponsored sessions at the three APA meetings held in 2013-2014 were well attended and well received. Eastern Division: Men Behaving Splendidly-Why and How to Organize a Gender-Balanced Conference Chair: Kathryn Norlock (Trent University) Speakers: Kathryn Norlock (Trent University) John Protevi (Louisiana State University) that the ability of a person to unify reason and passion depends in part on the structure of the society in which she finds herself, and in her own situation within that society. This is a thought-provoking essay, especially for those of us who include Wollstonecraft's works in our courses or scholarship. ABOUT THE NEWSLETTER ON FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY The Newsletter on Feminism and Philosophy is sponsored by the APA committee on the status of women (CSW). The newsletter is designed to provide an introduction to recent philosophical work that addresses issues of gender. None of the varied philosophical views presented by authors of newsletter articles necessarily reflect the views of any or all of the members of the committee on the status of women, including the editor(s) of the newsletter, nor does the committee advocate any particular type of feminist philosophy. We advocate only that serious philosophical attention be given to issues of gender and that claims of gender bias in philosophy receive full and fair consideration. SUBMISSION GUIDELINES AND INFORMATION 1. Purpose: The purpose of the newsletter is to publish information about the status of women in philosophy and to make the resources of feminist philosophy more widely available. The newsletter contains discussions of recent developments in feminist philosophy and related work in other disciplines, literature overviews and book reviews, suggestions for eliminating gender bias in the traditional philosophy curriculum, and reflections on feminist pedagogy. It also informs the profession about the work of the APA committee on the status of women. Articles submitted to the newsletter should be limited to approximately ten double-spaced pages and must follow the APA guidelines for gender-neutral language. Please submit essays electronically to the editor. All manuscripts should be prepared for anonymous review. References should follow The Chicago Manual of Style. 2. Book reviews and reviewers: If you have published a book that is appropriate for review in the newsletter, please have your publisher send us a copy of your book. We are always seeking new book reviewers. To volunteer to review books (or some particular book), please send the editor a CV and letter of interest, including mention of your areas of research and teaching. 3. Where to send things: Please send all articles, comments, suggestions, books, and other communications to the editor, Dr. Margaret Crouch, at [email protected]. APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 3 mindful of the ways cognitive-affective classroom dynamics influence how we navigate the course content.2 DOES THIS HAPPEN WHEN YOU TEACH? DeEndré walks into class and sits in his usual seat in the far back row. We are discussing Claudia Card's "Rape as a Terrorist Institution." He busily searches the web for statistics on sexual assault and domestic violence against men. He finds one, raises his hand, and says, "Men are victims too, according to a recent statistic from Center for Disease Control and U.S. Department of Justice, more men than women are victims of intimate partner violence. It's over 40 percent!"3 Armed with this new statistic, he asserts that our discussion would be less biased if we focused more generally on intimate partner violence. DeEndré makes these de-gendering moves with such regularity that women in the class cringe and audibly sigh when he raises his hand. The class is reading articles on privilege including Andrea Smith's critique of the privilege literature. Bethany, a white woman, tells the class that she does not want to read "propaganda." She insists that people of color have privileges too because "they can get affirmative action benefits and NAACP scholarships." She tells a story about the time she applied for a manager's position at a local restaurant, but "a Mexican took her job." A few white students nod in agreement. Some Latina/o and Black students become visibly agitated. Our feminist epistemology class has read Frantz Fanon and we are discussing racialized embodiment. James, an African American student who is taking his first philosophy class, shares an experience about what it's like for him to move through the world in a Black male body. Raymond, a young white (and kind of nerdy) philosophy student, listens to James and then wonders aloud whether there might be a possible world in which Black bodies are not regarded with suspicion. He believes Black men are regarded with suspicion, but he thinks "the hypothetical question is more philosophical and thus more interesting." He wants to use possible world semantics as an objection to Fanon. We are discussing the persistence of racism. Jennifer, a white philosophy student, offers as evidence some racist graffiti she saw recently in a dormitory bathroom. She tells the class that the graffiti said "N----go back to Chicago!" She animates her description with that little two-fingered scare quotes gesture. I pause our discussion and address her use of the N-word, and ask her to consider that the word might mean something different coming out of white mouths. She responds with an appeal to the "use-mention distinction," and explains that because this is a foundational concept in analytic philosophy that it's perfectly acceptable to "mention," but not "use" the N-word. WHAT IS EPISTEMIC PUSHBACK? Feminist philosophers and critical race theorists will be intimately familiar with the kinds of epistemic resistance these examples illustrate.4 Perhaps your own stories spring to mind as you read them. What I am calling epistemic pushback is an expression of epistemic resistance that happens regularly in discussions that touch our core Matthew Smith (University of Leeds) Jason Stanley (Yale University) Central Division: Attracting Women Philosophy Majors Speakers: Morgan Thompson (University of Pittsburgh) Toni Adelberg (University of California–San Diego) Najah Magliore (Colby College) Pacific Division: APA/CSW Site Visit Program Speakers: Peggy DesAutels (University of Dayton) Carla Fehr (University of Waterloo) Joseph Rouse (Wesleyan University) ARTICLES Navigating Epistemic Pushback in Feminist and Critical Race Philosophy Classes Alison Bailey ILLINOIS STATE UNIVERSITY Racism is especially rampant in places and people that produce knowledge.1 Gloria Anzaldúa There are days when I envy my colleagues who teach a standard western philosophy curriculum. Students do not show up to their office hours in tears because they have realized the shortcomings of substance dualism. And I'm fairly certain that they never think about how to manage the class if the Gettier problem triggers discomfort and anger. When an audible episode of student resistance occurs in their classrooms, it is usually about grading practices, workload, a comment made in class, or a general frustration with the opacity of the readings or lectures. With the possible exception of discussions about God's existence, most traditional puzzles do not implicate the self in the deeply emotional ways that courses in feminist and critical race philosophy do. It is no wonder students respond by holding their ground. I want to work with, not against, this ground-holding reflex by offering a strategy for navigating it productively. My focus is on undergraduate feminist and critical race philosophy classes that have a strong applied intersectional content. I use four examples of the resistance I have in mind as a point of departure. I suggest that these ground-holding responses cannot be reduced to a healthy skepticism. In addition, I argue that both critical thinking and "safe spaces" pedagogies are not entirely an effective way to navigate resistance. The pushback in these classrooms is very specific and our pedagogies should reflect that. I recommend treating epistemic pushback as a "shadow" text and encourage students to collectively navigate these texts alongside the assigned readings. I conclude with a concrete suggestion for helping students to become APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 4 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 from the project of exploring the lived bodily dimensions of oppression. When Jennifer justifies her deployment of the N-word with an appeal to the use/mention distinction, she privileges philosophical conventions over the safety of students of color in our class. Epistemic pushback cannot be attributed to the healthy skeptical stances that philosophers are encouraged to adopt as part of our disciplinary best practices. As Phyllis Rooney notes, "the 'default skeptical stance' that many philosophers regularly adopt can (among other things) be epistemically problematic, particularly when it is likely to discourage or misrepresent the views of those who belong to minority subgroups within the discipline-not least when they seek to examine 'new' topics of particular significance for their subgroup (topics of race or feminist philosophy for example)."7 When skepticism becomes the default stance in discussions on gender, race, and their intersections it can discourage, silence, depress, frustrate and anger members of marginalized groups. When skepticism is falsely equated with knee-jerk doubt, it becomes especially difficult to engage. Unlike healthy forms of skepticism that move conversations forward by encouraging open-minded and curious doubting, epistemic pushback is driven by psychological defense mechanisms, what José Medina identifies as the need for "cognitive self protection."8 I don't want to silence this resistance. I want students to understand the difference between resistance that is beneficial to knowledge production, and resistance that serves as an obstacle to knowledge production. As Medina suggests: [r]esistances can be a good and a bad thing, epistemically speaking. The resistances of your cognitive life keep you grounded. As Wittgenstein would put it, in order to have a real (and not simply a delusional) cognitive life, "we need friction," we need to go "back to the rough ground." But there are also resistances that function as obstacles, as weights that slow us down or preclude us from following (or even having access to) certain paths or pursuing further certain questions, problems, curiosities.9 Epistemic resistance is beneficial when it works to establish a toehold, to gain ground, and to move discussions forward. In Medina's words, there is a beneficial epistemic friction, that prompts us "to be self critical, to compare and contrast [our] beliefs, to meet justificatory demands, to recognize cognitive gaps, and so on."10 What I'm calling episodes of epistemic pushback "function as obstacles, as weights that slow us down or preclude us from following (or having access to) certain paths or pursuing further certain questions, problems and curiosities."11 Epistemic resistance offers no epistemic friction. It keeps our affective-cognitive wheels spinning in place by censoring, distracting, dodging, silencing, or "inhibiting the formation of beliefs, the articulation of doubts, the formulation of questions and lines of inquiry, and so on."12 HOW CAN WE NAVIGATE EPISTEMIC PUSHBACK? It has taken me more than a few years to understand beliefs about the world and how that worldview shapes the understandings we have of ourselves. These responses are not limited to academic classrooms; one hears them everywhere, but I focus on philosophy classrooms because this is where I spend most of my time engaging them. Epistemic pushback broadly characterizes a family of cognitive, affective, and verbal tactics that are deployed regularly to dodge the challenging and exhausting chore of engaging topics and questions that scare us. These topics are unsettling because they directly call into question our sense of self. No one likes to consider the possibility that they might be part of the problem, that they might be complicit in fortifying social structures that re-inscribe racist and [hetero]sexist practices. We like to think of ourselves as good people, so when discussions of injustice challenge our goodness we push back.5 What Alice MacIntyre calls "white talk" is a classic example of epistemic pushback. As McIntyre explains, white talk is a predictable set of discursive patterns that white folks habitually deploy when asked directly about the connections between white privilege and institutional racism that serves to insulate and excuse white people "from the difficult and almost paralyzing task of engaging [our] own whiteness."6 White talk signals a tactical refusal to understand, characterized by a general unwillingness to consider and engage ideas that directly challenge our sense of identity, and the worldview that gives our identity weight and substance. It has deeply affective roots around which our cognitive habits defensively wrap themselves. Bethany's characterization of the white privilege literature as propaganda marks a fearful refusal to consider her role in the maintenance of everyday racism. Her discomfort is expressed by her attempt to re-direct our attention back to her experiences with so-called "reverse discrimination," back to her belief that the principles of meritocracy have been violated. DeEndré does not want to think about the ways rape culture contributes to sexual violence against girls and women, so he re-focuses the discussion on violence against men, then advocates for a more general discussion on intimate partner violence. Here resistance is deployed to derail conversations, interrupt or dismiss testimony and counterarguments, or to facilitate retreats into silence. Fear, vulnerability, and anxiety drive these conversational detours, dismissals, and denials. Each offers a means of pre-emptively deploying disbelief in ways that allow would-be knowers to reject an uncomfortable position without seriously listening to, hearing, and making a sincere effort to understand that position. The next two examples are subtle. I ask readers to keep them in mind because they happen with predictable regularity. Raymond and Jennifer's epistemic engagements may count as sincere efforts to apply philosophical concepts from other classes to the material in our class. But I wonder whether these efforts might also be a subtle way of pressing philosophical concepts into the service of a broader tactical refusal to understand. When Raymond steers the discussion to the safety of possible world semantics he refuses to hear James's testimony. He is more comfortable addressing injustices in the abstract. His appeal to possible worlds is neither appropriate nor useful here: it distracts APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 5 the resistance students offer before thinking critically. Navigating epistemic pushback is frustrating, annoying, and time consuming. I treat it seriously because I've come to understand it as social practice that contributes to the active production and maintenance of ignorance. Good teaching should not only track the production of knowledge but also the production of ignorance. As Nancy Tuana explains, "if we are to fully understand the complex practices of knowledge production and the variety of factors that account for why something is known, we must also understand the practices that account for not knowing; that is, for our lack of knowledge about a phenomenon."15 A central premise in the literature on epistemologies of ignorance is that ignorance is not a simple gap in knowledge: It is an active social production. My examples point to a deeply seated and active resistance to knowing, which is carefully choreographed and skillfully maintained though discursive tactics, body language, and countless other habitual acts of omission and negligence. To persist willful ignorance requires daily management. Its uninterrupted repetition is required for speakers to keep habitual detours, dismissals, and denials in good working order.16 If epistemic pushback tactically maintains ignorance, and if this form of epistemic exchange regularly circulates in feminist philosophy classrooms, then we need a strategy for navigating resistance that is productive. How should we do this? TRACKING IGNORANCE: TREATING EPISTEMIC PUSHBACK AS "SHADOW TEXT" Willful ignorance circulates in even the most progressive classroom spaces. No classroom can be fully ignorance free, but we can work toward making these spaces "ignorance mindful." To this end I'm recommending that feminist classrooms work towards becoming collectively mindful of epistemic pushback and use any detected points of resistance as opportunities to reveal the ways we are all prone to embracing ignorance in the interests of dodging discomfort. I work with students to cultivate this mindfulness by making epistemic pushback visible and treating it as a "shadow text." I use the term "shadow text" metaphorically to point to the unwritten, and sometimes unspoken, content of epistemic pushback. DeEndré's claim that "Men are victims too!" is a shadow text. His response shadows the readings in the same way that a detective shadows a suspect whom he considers to be suspicious. Bethany's insistence that "affirmative action benefits count as privileges" is also shadow text. Her remarks run alongside of the claims about privilege as unearned advantage that should be a basic human entitlement. They punctuate the course content with a stubborn refusal to understand. If Jennifer and Raymond continue to press philosophical concepts into the service of a broader tactical refusal to understand, and if the concepts they introduce offer no epistemic friction, then we should also treat these moves as shadow texts. My use of "shadow" is intended to call to mind the image of something walking closely along side another thing. I picture an informal unwritten utterance or bodily gesture that epistemic pushback cannot be navigated exclusively using academic philosophy's critical thinking toolkit. I've lost entire class sessions trying to engage pushback argumentatively only to realize that adversarial formats fuel this resistance. Critical thinking solutions treat epistemic pushback as a failure to argue well. But these are affective as well as cognitive responses; as such they are stubborn, deep, volatile, unmoving, and practically immune from argument-focused pedagogies. No amount of argument analysis, informal fallacy review, or appeals to the principle of charity can defuse this pushback. These topics push buttons; they prompt feelings of fear, guilt, shame, anger, and vulnerability, and this is where we should begin. If the pushback is more affective than cognitive, then maybe creating safe spaces can address resistance at the source. I've tried integrating pedagogies from anti-racism workshops, SafeZone trainings, and community diversity summits into my philosophy classes. Once I spent an entire class session collectively crafting a "Contract for a Liberated Space" that listed guidelines for productive, compassionate, and respectful discussions. The contract helped focus our discussion. It also gave students permission to step in, educate, correct, or call one another out on bad behavior, but it did not create the desired "safe space." Safe spaces have normative goals: They are typically characterized as places where "participants can be relaxed and express ourselves freely without fear of being made to feel uncomfortable, unsafe, unwelcome, or marginalized."13 Accounts of safety that privilege free expression and comfort over listening and being heard are problematic from the start. I first realized this when two students repeatedly ignored a sexual assault survivor's testimony and, under the banner of "freedom to speak," deployed rape myths and "men too" reasoning to dodge questions about their complicity in rape culture. Sexual assault survivors are not safe in spaces where freedom of expression is not balanced equally with responsible and compassionate listening. This makes sense: we feel most safe and comfortable when our fears, unease, and anger are engaged and heard. Listening and hearing each requires a shift in our attitude toward risk. Risk taking by definition involves recognizing that taking chances makes everyone vulnerable: a student's contributions to a discussion can evoke anger, laughter, tears, joy, rage, a smile of recognition, eye rolling, fist pounding, a request for clarification, empathy, or pleas for patience. Safety is an unstable, slippery, and relatively context dependent. Identities are intersectional and topics that feel safe, interesting, and empowering for some students will be grueling, difficult, and annoying for others.14 So, there are no pure safe spaces. We can only work with what we offer one another. I want us to go into these conversations together knowing this. EPISTEMIC PUSHBACK AS AN EXPRESSION OF WILLFUL IGNORANCE Teaching feminist and critical race philosophy requires a distinctly nuanced pedagogy: one that begins with a mindfulness of how cognitive-affective resistance functions and then moves to a deeper understanding of the arguments. We must learn to identify and navigate APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 6 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 What is this response to the question doing? Where does it take the conversation and why?), and (3) speculate what might have driven this answer. The point of this exercise is to make visible the tension between the question and the reply, and to speculate about what triggers this discursive move. I try to keep the conversation short. I have them do the exercise for the next two or three instances of epistemic pushback before I introduce them to the idea of shadow texts. My hope is that they will begin to identify shadow texts on their own. At some point I ask them to think about how naming shadow texts might help us to track the production of ignorance. This requires some work. Students will almost always understand ignorance to mean that the speaker is saying something stupid. It's essential for them to understand that tracking ignorance requires our attentions to be focused not on a few problem individuals, but learning to see epistemic pushback and to tie these ignorance producing tactics to a more general refusal to know. In short, I want us to focus on what's happening, and not who is making it happen. Framing epistemic pushback as a shadow text is pedagogically useful for a number of reasons. First, naming pushback turns these epistemic exchanges into teachable moments. I've had some success with helping students to understand that resistance is not reducible to just bad behavior or obnoxious interruptions. There is something more deep and complicated going on here and it's worth exploring this resistance alongside of the readings. Next, acknowledging resistance as a text to be engaged, rather than as an interruption to be managed can help to diffuse the anger or fear. When a resister's concerns are engaged respectfully she or he will feel heard and will hopefully listen more carefully. Using shadow texts to navigate epistemic pushback can also serve as a productive point of entry into larger discussions about the social production of ignorance. Shadow texts may not initially offer the beneficial epistemic friction Medina finds necessary for positive epistemic resistance, but if navigated in the ways I've recommended they can help to steer classes onto a more active discursive terrain. NOTES 1. Gloria Anzaldúa, Haciendo Caras: Una Entrada. Making Face, Making Soul/Haciendo Caras: Creative and Critical Perspectives of Women of Color, xix. 2. I want to recognize that my identity as an able-bodied, straight, white, cisgendered, middle-aged woman has a huge impact on the classroom dynamic, the kind of "push back" I get from students, and ultimately the strategies available to me. My observations and suggestions are not offered as a one-size-fitsall pedagogy for addressing epistemic pushback in academic environments. 3. Bert H. Hoff, "National Study: More Men than Women Victims of Intimate Partner Violence, Psychological Aggression." 4. José Medina's The Epistemology of Resistance: Gender and Racial Oppression, Epistemic Injustice and Resistant Imaginations (2013) has enriched the nuanced political and epistemological implications of what is now called "the epistemology of resistance." I am very inspired by his account, the conceptual vocabulary he crafts, and the vision he offers. However, I don't want to simply adopt his terminology wholesale and apply it to classroom pedagogies at this point. So, I bring it in where helps to ground the pedagogy. I use "epistemic pushback" to point specifically to one species of epistemic resistance. Medina would categorize this as either internal or external negative epistemic resistance. See Medina, The Epistemology of Resistance, 49-50. moving alongside of a more formal written one. Shadow texts can certainly be thought of as reactions to course content, but I'd prefer to understand them as "being called up by" the course content. There are reasons why DeEndré and Jennifer "go there"; their reactions are not knee jerk. Shadow texts spring from these deeply affective-cognitive spaces. I want to superimpose a second meaning on this account of shadow texts. Shadows are more commonly understood as the products of obstacles; that is, as dark areas or shapes produced by bodies (obstacles) coming between a light source and a surface. Recall Medina's claim that epistemic resistance can "function as an obstacle, as weights that slow us down or preclude us from following (or having access to) certain paths or pursuing further certain questions, problems and curiosities."17 When epistemic pushback functions in this way, it casts a shadow text. Here, shadows are regions of epistemic opacity. The discursive detours and distractions signal epistemic closure; they tell listeners "I'm not going there." I've coined the term "shadow texts" to focus students' attention on this double meaning. Treating epistemic pushback as a shadow text doesn't always offer us the beneficial epistemic friction that knowledge production demands. This, however, doesn't mean that shadow texts can't be navigated in pedagogically useful ways. Shadow texts may be obstacles, but they are not immoveable barriers. I prefer to think of them as "sticking points," preludes to epistemic friction if you will. Epistemic sticking points don't always give us the necessary friction we need to move a conversation forward, but they can be used to create a toehold that serves as a useful point of departure for future difficult conversations, even if the speaker remains unconvinced in the end. NAVIGATING SHADOW TEXTS I have a section on our syllabus that defines and describes shadow texts. I introduce students to this concept on the first day of class, but we don't begin to navigate shadow texts until there is a clear moment of epistemic pushback. Shadow texts must be engaged carefully. DeEndré and Bethany's concerns must be navigated in ways that do not re-center maleness and whiteness. Jennifer and Raymond's concerns must be navigated in ways that point to my concerns about whether these concepts have epistemic friction. At the first moment of epistemic pushback, I ask the class if we can pause to consider what happened. For example, suppose I've asked the question, "What does Card mean when she claims that 'rape is a terrorist institution'?" I write this question on the board. A few students usually respond by defining terrorism and explaining how the definition helps us to understand rape culture. I write the responses on the board, including DeEndré's response. My concern is not whether he has answered the question (he hasn't). I want to know why his answer "went there" and not to Card's definition, and I want to know what is driving this move. I invite the class to consider the question and the responses that I've put on the board. The class then does a free-writing exercise where they (1) identify the resistant response, (2) explain how this response differs from the others (e.g., APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 7 Yancy, George. "Loving Wisdom and the Effort to Make Philosophy 'Unsafe.'" Epistemologies Humanities Journal (2011). Uses of Multimedia Representations in Undergraduate Feminist Philosophy Courses Crista Lebens UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN–WHITEWATER Philosophy is a discipline that seemingly requires few visual aids, but we live in a visually oriented culture. In discussions of gender and race construction, visuals are crucial. How can abstract philosophical concepts, especially about gender and race, be illustrated visually? In this essay, I discuss a project in which I collaborated with two undergraduate students on the development of multimedia learning objects (short videos and PowerPoint presentations). I currently use these digital learning objects (LOs) in my Philosophy of Gender & Race and Feminist Philosophy courses. These LOs incorporate current events and contemporary aesthetics to bring abstract concepts to life. Though their contribution is significant, almost more important than the product was the process. Despite the fact that I was the instructor, we all learned from each other in some respect. The process was transformative for all of us. In this essay, I will describe the process of constructing these LOs. Whether or not producing this type of material interests the reader, the process of engaging undergraduate students in any sort of collaborative work offers a rich and rewarding experience far beyond the contribution the product makes in the classroom. First, some background: I work at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater, a regional university in the Wisconsin State University system with a 4-4 teaching load; teaching takes up the bulk of my working life. As I began developing a new course on race and gender, I looked for funding opportunities to support the production of teaching materials. I had explored digital repositories such as Merlot, and searched YouTube videos and other online resources. While there is a substantial body of work online that illustrates standard (non feminist) philosophical concepts and texts, I did not find materials that directly addressed the concepts or the texts I use in my courses. I decided to create my own. The grants officer at my university suggested I consider collaborating with undergraduates (NB: we do not have grad programs in my department or in women's studies). The motivation for this project, creating short videos to illustrate complex concepts, came from my belief that using visuals to convey concepts of gender and race construction would strengthen a course on gender and race. The process was successful in terms of engaging students in the course and building strong mentoring relationships with the student collaborators. As a result, I applied for and received a second grant to develop videos for my feminist philosophy class. 5. For a complete discussion of complicity and goodness, see Barbara Applebaum's Being White, Being Good: White Complicity, Moral Responsibility, and Social Justice Pedagogy. 6. Alice McIntyre, Making Meaning of Whiteness: Exploring Racial Identities with White Teachers, 46. White talk includes the following sorts of utterances: "My ancestors never owned slaves. I'm not like my bigoted father. I don't care if you're Black, red, or yellow with polka dots, everyone should be treated equally." 7. Phyllis Rooney, "An Ambivalent Ally: On Philosophical Argumentation and Diversity," 36-37. 8. José Medina, The Epistemology of Resistance, 35. 9. Ibid., 48. 10. Ibid., 50. 11. Ibid., 8. 12. Ibid., 50. 13. See Laura Freedman, "Creating Safe Spaces: Strategies for Confronting Implicit and Explicit Bias and Stereotype Threat in the Classroom." This exact language also appears regularly in Internet searches for safe spaces, usually in the context of mission statements for LGBTQA resource centers. 14. George Yancy advocates for the creation of "unsafe spaces" that involve marking whiteness, maleness, and other privileged identities, making it visible, rendering it strange, or decentering it. Creating unsafe spaces should not be mistakenly equated with fomenting hostile situations; instead, the goal is to tackle privilege and power by inviting members of privileged groups to become uncomfortable with their power. I share his concerns about the focus on making classrooms safe. See his "Loving Wisdom and the Effort to Make Philosophy 'Unsafe." 15. Nancy Tuana, "The Speculum of Ignorance: The Women's Health Movement and Epistemologies of Ignorance," 9-10. 16. For example, see Elizabeth Spelman's "Managing Ignorance" in Race and Epistemologies of Ignorance, eds. Shannon Sullivan and Nancy Tuana. 17. Medina, The Epistemology of Resistance, 48. BIBLIOGRAPHY Anzaldúa, Gloria. "Haciendo Caras: Una Entrada." Making Face, Making Soul/Haciendo Caras: Creative and Critical Perspectives of Women of Color. San Francisco, CA: Aunt Lute Foundation Books, 1990. Applebaum, Barbara. Being White, Being Good: White Complicity, Moral Responsibility, and Social Justice Pedagogy. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2010. Freedman, Laura. "Creating Safe Spaces: Strategies for Confronting Implicit and Explicit Bias and Stereotype Threat in the Classroom." APA Newsletter on Feminism and Philosophy 13, no. 12 (2014): 3–12. Hoff, Bert H. "National Study: More Men than Women Victims of Intimate Partner Violence, Psychological Aggression." MenWeb: An Online Journal, February 2012. http://batteredmen.com/NISVS.htm. Accessed May 8, 2014. McIntyre, Alice. Making Meaning of Whiteness: Exploring Racial Identities with White Teachers. Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 1997. Medina, José. The Epistemology of Resistance: Gender and Racial Oppression, Epistemic Injustice, and Resistant Imaginations. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. Mills, Charles W. The Racial Contract. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1997. Rooney, Phyllis. "An Ambivalent Ally: On Philosophical Argumentation and Diversity." APA Newsletter on Feminism and Philosophy 13, no 2 (2014): 36–42. Spelman, Elizabeth V. "Managing Ignorance." In Race and Epistemologies of Ignorance, edited by Shannon Sullivan and Nancy Tuana. Albany: SUNY Press, 2007. Tuana, Nancy. "The Speculum of Ignorance: the Women's Health Movement and Epistemologies of Ignorance." Hypatia 21, no. 3 (2006): 1–19. Tuana, Nancy. "Coming to Understand: Orgasm and the Epistemology of Ignorance." Hypatia 19, no. 1 (2004): 194–232. APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 8 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 From my end it appeared to be helpful for them to have each other to consult. We met face to face regularly and online quite frequently as well, which helped because we all lived significant distances from campus. Amy was not available for the second project, but Nik and I collaborated a great deal online via Gmail chat and Google docs. RESULTS I have made examples of digital learning objects available on my blog. We produced seventeen learning objects in total (between the two projects), including short films (up to eleven minutes), and PowerPoint presentations with embedded multimedia. In addition to exploring Lugones's Logic of Purity/Logic of Curdling, we covered a range of topics, for example, the following: Video: Sonia Sotomayor: Standing before the law • Purpose: introduce the course's emphasis on conceptualizing race and gender simultaneously • Introduce the idea of the social contract • Chronology: shown the first day of class • Key ideas: social contract; multiple enmeshed oppressions Video: "Post Racial" America • Purpose: show real-life examples of how the social contract fails. Supplement readings by Carole Pateman and Charles Mills • Chronology: shown about four weeks into the course • Key ideas: social contract; racial contract Video: Mold, Immobilize, Reduce As a product of the second collaboration, this video shows a more sophisticated aesthetic. • Purpose: highlight key concepts found in two theories of oppression: Marilyn Frye, Iris Marion Young • Create a historical context for theories of oppression • Situate theories of oppression in relation to multiple axes of oppression OUR PROCESS One thesis presented throughout the Gender and Race course is that the social contract does not work for everyone in the United States. That requires some discussion of the concept itself, as well as introducing concepts such as classical liberalism and radical critiques of liberalism. Texts that serve these purposes include Carole Pateman's and Charles Mills's analysis and criticisms of the social contract, as well as selections on the social contract from the anthology Hip Hop and Philosophy. I chose two students with whom I was familiar. Nik and Amy had taken two courses with me previously, namely, Feminist Philosophy and Lesbian Studies, and had been especially interested in my area of specialty, the work of María Lugones, which we had studied in both classes. Furthermore, I knew Nik had both the technical skills to create videos and the interest in the subject matter. In the Lesbian Studies course, I had offered the class the option of producing a multimedia presentation as an alternative to the standard essay exam covering material for that segment of the course. This alternative was not an easy out; the project had to engage the ideas in a meaningful way. Nik is a gifted digital media artist, and she produced an outstanding multimedia presentation. Amy is a skilled writer and thinker. She and Nik were interested in collaborating on this project. In short, we were in the right place at the right time. It is not surprising that this collaboration came out of a series of women's studies classes they took with me. In those classes it was clear that they found Lugones's work as engaging as I have. The process of working together was an exercise in feminist practice. We came from multiplicitous backgrounds and journeys, navigating differences of age, institutional power, class, race, and gender identity, and we shared commonalities of lesbian and/or queer identities, as well as a politics of resistance to multiple enmeshed oppressions. Without these political commitments, the project would not have been successful. For a project like this, one has to know and love the work to be able to teach it to others. The first project took the three of us most of a summer to produce. My tasks: • Choose the readings I want to emphasize • Identify key concepts or issues to illustrate • Write overviews of what I want covered • Be available as a resource • Stick to the timeline Students' tasks: • Read the material from which these concepts were drawn • Note: This took a few weeks of preparation and discussion. It was really exciting to discuss the ideas and work out what concepts to illustrate and how to do it visually. • Collaborate on parts of the writing and presentation • Nik: choose the images or film clips and music and compose the videos • Keep in contact; ask questions to clarify difficult concepts • Stick to the timeline APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 9 primary choices of images. Aesthetically, Nik favors archival images, and made frequent use of copyright-free images from 1950s-era American movies. In the case of the oppression video, she chose images of white women, eschewing images of women of color from movies of that era because she found the depictions to be problematic. Even though the images of white women depicted them in objectifying situations, the narrative of the video serves to challenge that. As a team, we agreed that it would be more difficult to undercut the sexist, racist stereotypes conveyed by images of women of color. Rather than risk reinforcing these stereotypes for my (primarily white) audience, we avoided them. The analysis that supports this choice added a layer to my understanding of historical racism and sexism. Pedagogically, I use this as a teachable moment. When I show the video in class, I explain the reasoning behind this choice, prompting students to notice the presence of the absence (of strong images of women of color) and consider why that is. Finally, I learned from working with Nik and Amy how to be a better teacher. We shared a love of the intellectual work we were doing together. We worked together to solve creative problems in illustrating the concepts, and through that experience, as I saw their commitment to the work, my commitment to keep connecting with students renewed. In short, the experience has kept me from "burning out" as a teacher. I will always know that there are students who really care about these ideas, and for whom these ideas make a significant difference in their lives. That is sustaining. The experience was also one of feminist practice. Clearly we worked within an asymmetrical power structure; I had been their instructor and would be again, and I was their supervisor and director of the project. At the same time, I trusted their decisions and their authority as knowers, and reinforced their sense of themselves as "authoritative female interlocutors" as described by the Milan Woman's Book Collective. With my guidance, they wrote sections of text and shaped the messages of the videos. Second, I think it was helpful overall for them to work together on the project, insofar as they had a partner with whom they could test ideas. For students who might be less forthcoming in an academic environment, working with another student can make the interpersonal dynamics a bit less intense than working solo with an instructor. PRAGMATIC CONSIDERATIONS The students were paid a stipend of $750. To alleviate payroll complications, I scheduled flat-rate payments over the course of the work period. I encouraged them to stay within the time budgeted, but, as is often the case, they exceeded that time. The books and other materials, such as software and DVDs, purchased to produce the learning objects belonged to them after the project. Though they received no direct academic credit for their work, both Nik and Amy referenced this project in successful job applications. Second, we presented our work at a statewide Women's Studies Consortium and at a Midwest Society for Women in Philosophy meeting. Finally, to date, our collaboration has led to Nik's presentation of an original video at a Midwest Society for Women in To illustrate both the social contract and the criticisms, we chose the example of the confirmation hearings for Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor. The hearings were taking place at the same time as we were working on the project, so there was much interest and discussion of them. We chose this example for several reasons; first, we wanted to use a current event. Even though the example is now five years old, race and gender dynamics have not changed significantly in such a short time. The confirmation of a Supreme Court justice has lasting significance. Second, I specifically wanted an example that incorporated both race and gender dynamics. As the record shows, Sotomayor was questioned on her racial politics and asked if she has "an anger problem," a question that has gendered and raced implications. I chose this example over another event widely discussed at the time, namely, the arrest of Professor Henry Louis Gates as he tried to enter his home, the criticism of the arresting officer, and the ensuing "beer summit." While that series of events, too, has gendered and raced implications, from the stereotype of the Black Man to the rapprochement over a few beers, I wanted the images and analysis in this LO to highlight a woman, particularly a woman of color. A "Beer Summit" video would reinforce the absence of images of women of color, especially ones that depict them in positions of power. Second, the Beer Summit example would reinscribe racial dynamics as strictly a "black-white thing." I wanted to begin the series by presenting images highlighting the marginalization/ othering of race and gender simultaneously and that depict race outside of the black/white binary. The Sotomayor example served these purposes well, and functioned to set a visual and conceptual framework for the course. The video has already received critical responses. For example, Marilyn Frye expressed the concern that ultimately the video reinforces the idea of the social contract, given the inclusion of footage from Judge Sotomayor's swearingin ceremony.1 While it may reinforce the myth that the "system" basically works, albeit with a few unfortunate bumps for some individuals, in class discussion I emphasize the fact that the barriers exist at all, in the form of the questions she was asked, demonstrating that not all stand "equal before the law." A second response, from Mariana Ortega, elicited provocative questions to take up in class discussion and beyond: And it is in these examples such as Judge Sotomayor being questioned that I see [whiteness as impartiality] . . . being more explicit-whiteness as gatekeeping with the pretense that it is not gatekeeping but justice and neutrality. Sad.2 Judge Sotomayor must make the case that she is impartial in a way that was not required of her white and male colleagues. "Whiteness" is the mark of impartiality. In Lugones's terms, Judge Sotomayor must split-separate herself from her Latina identity, yet retain it. A second example of an aesthetic and political choice we made concerns the images in the "Mold, Immobilize, Reduce," video on oppression. There Nik made the APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 10 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 enormously rewarding experience. The project and the process together demonstrated feminist practice deeply informed by the philosophical concepts we worked to illustrate. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I am grateful to Nik DeLeon and Amy Michaels for their commitment to this project. They have given permission to use their names. Thanks also go to the participants who gave feedback at the following conferences: University of Wisconsin System Women's Studies Consortium, 2010; Midwest Society for Women in Philosophy, 2011; American Association of Philosophy Teachers, 2012; and the anonymous reviewer for the APA Newsletter on Feminism and Philosophy. NOTES 1. Private communication, August 2009. 2. Mariana Ortega, electronic communication, June 2011. BIBLIOGRAPHY Darby, Derrick, and Tommie Shelby, eds. Hip Hop and Philosophy: Rhyme 2 Reason. Popular Culture and Philosophy v. 16. Chicago: Open Court, 2005. Frye, Marilyn. The Politics of Reality: Essays in Feminist Theory. The Crossing Press Feminist Series. Trumansburg, NY: Crossing Press, 1983. Lebens, Crista. "C. Lebens" (blog). C. Lebens, June 2014. http://blogs. uww.edu/lebens/. ---. "Digital Learning Objects" (blog). C. Lebens, June 2014. http:// blogs.uww.edu/lebens/digital-learning-objects/. Libreria delle donne di Milano [Milan Women's Book Collective]. Sexual Difference: A Theory of Social-Symbolic Practice. Theories of Representation and Difference MB 605. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1990. Lugones, Maria. Pilgrimages = Peregrinajes: Theorizing Coalition against Multiple Oppressions. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2003. Mills, Charles W. The Racial Contract. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997. "Mold, Immobilize, Reduce: Oppression." Vimeo video, 10:34. Posted by "Juneaux Moon," 2013. http://vimeo.com/59696853. Pateman, Carole. The Sexual Contract. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1988. Pateman, Carole, and Charles W. Mills. Contract and Domination. Cambridge: Polity, 2007. "Standing Before the Law: Sonia Sotomayor Trials." Vimeo video, 7:44. Posted by "Juneaux Moon," 2011. http://vimeo.com/24061463. Academic Pressures and Feminist Solutions: Teaching Ethics against the Grain Kate Parsons WEBSTER UNIVERSITY Margaret Crouch begins her important article "Implicit Bias and Gender (and Other Sorts of) Diversity in Philosophy and the Academy in the Context of the Corporatized University" (2012) with the insight that two things that she values most- the movement toward increased diversity in philosophy and the existence of our discipline in higher education- are both under fire by the same threat: neoliberal1 thinking and practices. I would like to add another dimension to her compelling claims, and suggest that these threats become especially potent, and particularly hard to navigate, in Philosophy conference and sale of the video screening rights to another university. STUDENT RESPONSES At the end of the initial offering of the Philosophy of Gender and Race course, I asked students to comment on the learning objects using the standard evaluation form. The consensus among the students was positive. One student in that class went on to present original work at a professional conference. I certainly cannot give sole credit to the learning objects, but the LOs project demonstrated to my students that they could produce work outside of course assignments and gain professional recognition for it. In the second offering of the course, I used an online survey to record students' evaluation of the learning objects, and again they rated them positively. Anecdotally, when we presented the LOs at the Women's Studies Consortium, a student who had taken my feminist philosophy class remarked that such materials would have been helpful in that class as well. As a result of these positive responses, I was able to secure funding for the project to develop learning objects for the feminist philosophy class. The subsequent developments, in and out of the classroom, have been overwhelmingly positive. I, with and without Nik and Amy, presented this work at several conferences and received positive feedback and requests for links to the works. Having worked on the digital learning objects, I was more oriented to the use of multimedia in the classroom, and I make regular use of additional media beyond those produced specifically for this course. These additional materials help to illustrate more concretely than otherwise the abstract concepts of political philosophy and theories of race and gender construction. ROADBLOCKS Time and money are significant barriers. This work can't be done during the semester with my teaching load and the students' course load. Work over the summer requires either enough funding to support the student(s) without the need for a second job or negotiating work and life schedules. Finally, undergraduates graduate faster than grad students, so to continue this work, I will need to find ways to support ongoing collaboration or rethink the kind of project I would pursue. Given the specific skills and interests Nik and Amy brought to the project, and the "bonding experience" we shared, it would be difficult to duplicate the results produced by the original team. CONCLUSION Most instructors currently use multimedia digital learning objects in our classrooms. Though it is changing, teachers of feminist philosophy and/or philosophy of race may find appropriate or relevant materials are scarce. In that case, it is possible to collaborate with others to produce them. I welcome questions and comments regarding the process and the results; contact me via email, [email protected], or my blog. Even if this particular project (multimedia learning objects) is not feasible, consider developing some other type of learning object or conducting research in collaboration with undergraduate students. It is an APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 11 Yet, in some cases, this counsel seemed to yield a conflict between my pedagogical commitments as a philosopher and as a feminist. It is one thing to consider "diverse" perspectives when it simply means "distinctly different" perspectives, and quite another thing to promote "diversity" as a commitment tied to the toppling of hegemonic structures (as it is typically understood by feminists, critical race theorists, and others). Margaret Crouch argues that, as neoliberal thinking has spread into the public sector, influencing how we think about higher education and its purpose, this second version of diversity has been eclipsed by the first. There is little cachet in diversity arguments based on "social justice or ethical obligation" these days. Diversity, in business-speak and even higher-ed speak, has become equivalent to "difference"; this conception requires little in the way of difficult conversations about power imbalances, structural inequality, and "isms" of oppression (such as white racism, sexism, classism, heterosexism, etc.). Promotion of diversity is not typically couched in terms of "righting wrongs" or addressing inequality, as explicitly adopting these justifications would require admittance that something is still wrong, that our society is still plagued by inequality and that there are both oppressed and oppressor groups; rather, it is promoted in terms of "the efficiency of an organization and its greater competitiveness."3 This insight of Crouch's has helped me examine a shift I made in recent years to include the issue of rape in my introductory practical ethics courses. In most of the applied ethics anthologies that I have surveyed, rape and sexual violence are absent. When one reflects on the fact that 20– 25 percent of college-age women are sexually assaulted in the United States,4 and that the omnipresence of sexual violence is a tremendous challenge to the autonomy and well-being of women worldwide, this is a striking absence.5 While I have had no qualms about calling rape a "contemporary moral problem," for years I did not include it in my course under that name because I worried that I could not come up with "diverse" readings in the "pros and cons," "conflicting perspectives" sense of the term. The topics in my course (I assumed unreflectively) were best examined, and the students best served, by reading authors who would disagree profoundly with one another, who would confront one another with equally compelling arguments, and who would compel students to consider perspectives radically different from their own. Yet I could not imagine how to do that responsibly on this issue. Sure, I might assign controversial pieces on rape-some by feminists, and some even by female anti-feminists such as Camille Paglia or Katie Roiphie-but given the near-certainty that many of my female and some of my male students are survivors of rape and sexual violence, the risk of creating a class discussion that might result in these students feeling further alienated, misunderstood, or blamed for the violence they had suffered was simply not a risk I was willing to take. It seemed safer simply not to address the issue at all. I justified my decision to leave this issue out primarily in terms of the safety and emotional well-being of my female students. But beneath that justification, I believe, I was also worried about the academic "safety" of including issues introductory-level philosophical ethics courses. I argue that, in the context of such classes, a desire to prove academic philosophy's relevance to a society enamored with the promise of market-based skills (Crouch's "corporatizing" forces) often works counter to the goal of increased attention to the needs and contributions of oppressed and underrepresented groups. Yet feminist philosophical strategies can help demonstrate that emphasis on the market-based skills that emerge from philosophical training need not run counter to increased attention to the needs of oppressed groups. By way of one modest example, I suggest a feminist pedagogical shift that might help address the needs of underrepresented students while still satisfying some of the market-based and tradition-based justifications of philosophy as a discipline. For years it was a kind of mantra of mine-both when talking about my philosophy department and our ethics center-that in philosophical ethics courses we don't teach students what to think, we teach them how to think. The distinction, although simplistic and admittedly problematic, served an important purpose: for the layperson it helped me differentiate philosophical instruction from religious instruction, and also from "character education"-two areas that also lay claim to teaching ethics, but from a position where values are more explicitly and unabashedly predetermined. In our courses, I often explained (sometimes defensively, sometimes self-righteously) the content, definition, and conception of one's values are laid out for scrutiny, open to challenge, and yet-to-be determined. We teach students how to examine their values comparatively and critically, and we leave it to them to determine which they will ultimately adopt. Guided primarily by the pedagogical values of promoting autonomous and rational thinking, I invoked the traditional boast that students come out of our classes with more questions, with less certainty, than that with which they entered. Debate is encouraged, differences in perspective are explored, students' eyes are opened, and sometimes their worlds are turned upside down. I tended to see all of this as perfectly consistent with my department and university's commitment to diversity,2 for when everything is open for question, and no view is immune to criticism, we all are presumably better equipped to operate on equal footing. In ethics courses, particularly those that deal with practical, contemporary moral issues, this pedagogical approach would seem to be well fertilized by a "pro vs. con" or "conflicting perspectives" structure. Students get a better understanding of the contentiousness of (and their own positions in) the debates over abortion, euthanasia, the death penalty, gun control, etc., by examining opposing viewpoints, and by refusing to view any position as immune to scrutiny. While, for me, it can be personally difficult and emotionally taxing to assign and promote consideration of positions with which I fundamentally disagree, I would use the same counsel on myself that I offer to my students: it's good to take seriously the views that one abhors; understanding a variety of views, delving into "diverse" perspectives, stretches our students' minds and does us all some intellectual good. APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 12 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 value-laden "content"; I am teaching value-neutral critical thinking "skills"-how to think, not what to think. In philosophical ethics courses in particular, I find myself in a kind of perfect feminist-philosophical storm that makes responsible inclusion of an issue like rape especially difficult. Winds from one direction push me to worry about being perceived as a political (liberal) "advocate" rather than an apolitical (neutral) "scholar." Winds from another direction push me to worry about the institution's perception of my department and discipline's relevance for millenials (who are presumably best served by having transferrable "skills" rather than "knowledge"). Crouch notes that "the academy has, to a large extent, accepted the neoliberal model of the university as a corporation, the primary mission of which is to sell information and skill sets and to produce workers."11 So the academy generally, and philosophy specifically, seem justifiable, save-able, if we can prove our fittingness to this model. Crouch contends, "Public universities and liberal arts colleges once considered it their mission to further the 'common good', by educating students to be good citizens and better economic agents."12 But the second component of that mission is clearly overshadowing the first these days, and what it means to be a good citizen is increasingly intertwined with capitalist production. Students have become "consumers"13 and knowledge in terms of "marketable skills" has become our "product." Fish's solution amounts to the recommendation that we protect ourselves by proving that our work does not run contrary to this new game (played on the corporatized model). He does not accept or endorse the game, but following his advice ultimately undermines our ability to question the "game" itself. In the current climate, Crouch notes, "[t]he understanding of what it means to be human is apparently not in demand . . . anthropology, literature, and philosophy-all of the humanities, in fact-are valueless in the corporatized university."14 Fish decries the view that the humanities are "valueless," but his solution leaves us and our students relatively powerless to examine "what it means to be human" and to confront the assumption that there is a single answer to this question. This, Crouch and I believe, should be our "business." As Crouch notes, "philosophy should be one of the best disciplines for clarifying the limits of neoliberal higher education, and for showing that there are significant moral and pragmatic arguments for the inclusion of diverse groups, diverse disciplines, and diversity within disciplines, in the university."15 Yet in order to do this, philosophers need to sort through the ways in which Fish's exhortations seem to parallel some of the values deeply embedded in philosophy as a discipline, and challenge them, particularly from a feminist perspective. For instance, I initially found some of Fish's advice compelling because my traditionally conceived discipline so highly values autonomy16 and critical thinking; indoctrination of my students runs directly counter to these values and most of I what I take pride in. Philosophy as a discipline has encouraged me to feel proud of the fact that students protest teasingly and good-naturedly, in the classroom and in their evaluations, that I am "so frustrating" because I rarely tell them what I think; instead, I insist that they answer their own questions. I respond, perhaps in my syllabus about which I could not be, or at least not be perceived as, neutral. Such worries are propped up by Stanley Fish, former dean of the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at the University of Illinois, Chicago, who counsels academics never to reveal our ethical and political positions to students. In light of the current political climate, under which higher education is at risk of being co-opted and transformed by a for-profit model, he argues that professors ought to avoid advocacy of any particular political position in the classroom. His provocatively titled book Save the World on Your Own Time (2008) rails against professors who try to do too much "engaged" or advocacy work in their classes. Our job, he claims, is simple and twofold: "(1) introduce students to bodies of knowledge and traditions of inquiry that had not previously been part of their experience; and (2) equip those same students with the analytical skills-of argument, statistical modeling, laboratory procedure-that will enable them to move confidently within those traditions and to engage in independent research after a course is over."6 When we try to go beyond this, he says, we become ineffective teachers, and, most importantly, play into the hands of those who attempt to co-opt or deny the value of higher education, particularly those who doubt the value of the liberal arts. For, it is "when teachers offer themselves as moralists, therapists, counselors, and agents of global change rather than as pedagogues that those who are on the lookout for ways to discredit higher education (often as a preliminary to taking it over) see their chance," Fish claims.7 When we reveal what we ourselves think in the classroom, he says, we step over the line of what's appropriate to, fitting for, our jobs. His exhortations rest on affirming a line "between analysis and advocacy."8 The work of the scholar in higher ed is to engage students in the former and (at least in the classroom) to refrain from the latter. To those of us that might suggest, "Teaching is a political act," Fish sharply rejoins: "Only bad teaching is a political act."9 Of course, plenty of academics dispute Fish in compelling ways. And although philosophers are well-equipped (as highly trained critical thinkers) to take issue with the conceptual lines Fish attempts to draw, my sense is that few of us feel particularly safe in doing so publicly, as we are less well-equipped to be taken seriously by administrators, boards of trustees, and the wider public. These days our discipline has a tough time justifying its existence in higher education, mostly because our departments are not leading contributors to the university's bottom line (particularly in numbers of majors). Crouch notes that, when threats to cut philosophy programs are made "the administrative justification is usually that philosophy departments are not cost-effective, are not graduating enough students per year, or are not garnering enough external funds for research."10 Despite the fact that our cost-effectiveness can typically be disputed easily (in the number of students-instead of numbers of majors-we teach, and in the relatively inexpensive ways in which we teach without labs or other research and instructional expenses), we find ourselves often on the defensive. In my case and I suspect in many others, this defensiveness finds its way into the classroom, construction of syllabi, and perhaps even creation of texts. It translates into my defense that I am not teaching APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 13 What had not initially occurred to me when I first started teaching such a course-particularly when I was fresh out of graduate school-and seems so obviously narrow now, is that I could change this narrow conception of philosophy (and the academy). I could still engender philosophical debate by addressing diverse conceptions of responsibility for rape and diverse possible solutions. This has required changing how I structure the course, doing it differently from the structure of most ethics anthologies, and telling my students what I am doing: on some issues, I now tell them, we will focus discussions on whether a particular decision, act, or policy is morally permissible (e.g., abortion, euthanasia, the death penalty) and in what circumstances (if any) it would be so; with other issues we will start from the assumption that a particular issue is not morally permissible (e.g., racism, sexism), and that it is a problem requiring discussion about diverse solutions. For instance, I tell them, I will assume that most of you think rape is a problem-in the sense that it is wrong-and our discussions will focus on various ways to understand and to solve the problem.20 In this way, students are still encouraged to challenge one another (and themselves) and confront unfamiliar perspectives, but they do so in a way that runs a much smaller risk of alienating and/or doing harm to rape survivors in my classrooms.21 This rather simple shift, I suggest, has been a small but useful strategy toward correcting the ways in which academic philosophy "has largely ignored its own whiteness and maleness, both among its faculty and among its students."22 Students (of all genders) typically report at the end of the semester that their discussion of rape was one of the most eye-opening and transformative of the class. Given that it is a topic that almost all of the women in the class (and some of the men) can identify with, in one way or another, it helps them feel connected with, excited by, challenged by, philosophical thinking. Almost all of them have personal experiences that stimulate and spur critical analysis, helping them to grasp the ways in which philosophical thinking is for them, relevant to them, helpful to them. Crouch reminds us that "we should explore the possibility that philosophy has failed to integrate the sorts of issues, problems, and methodologies that women and nonwhite people find interesting and relevant" and this is one small but perhaps useful shift for highlighting and correcting implicit bias in our discipline.23 NOTES 1. Crouch describes neoliberalism as follows: "Neoliberalism is devoted to the principle that the market is the best means of producing and distributing resources. This principle is familiar from some forms of classical liberalism, often termed 'free market' capitalism." See Crouch, "Implicit Bias and Gender (and Other Sorts of) Diversity in Philosophy and the Academy in the Context of the Corporatized University," 213. 2. Webster University, where I teach, is difficult to describe as a whole, since it includes a global network of campuses in Europe, Africa, and Asia, as well as a number of small campuses in metropolitan and military sites throughout the United States. Yet the home campus where I teach at the undergraduate level, in suburban Saint Louis, Missouri, is perhaps best described as a small, private, liberal arts institution, where my classes of mostly traditional-age, non-military students are no larger than twentyfive seats. A significant component of our marketing and selfdescription includes the claim that "Diversity and inclusion are ad nauseum, "what do you think?" And I believe it is pedagogically crucial that students not feel they are being preached to, and that they do their own work of thinking critically and evaluating all claims. Elements of this seem to complement Fish's recommendation to "academicize": "to academicize a topic is to detach it from the context of its real world urgency, where there is a vote to be taken or an agenda to be embraced, and insert it into a context of academic urgency, where there is an account to be offered or an analysis to be performed."17 If I stick to the level of questioning whether there is a problem-what its terms are, how it might be analyzed from different perspectives- but don't necessarily presume in our discussions that something is a problem, then I seem to conform to Fish's advice. The difficulty with this, of course, is that sometimes the act of questioning whether something "is" a problem is to betray or convey a kind of political position itself. Questioning whether rape, for instance, "is" a problem seems to indicate at best ignorance, at worst skepticism, of the suffering of many of my female students. In my Feminist and Gender Theory courses (courses Fish says are clearly outside the bounds of "academicization"), I build from a political position that interlocking oppressions are a serious problem. I certainly don't take this as a given- we examine texts that make this argument, and also ones that provide counterarguments-but in order to advance to a deeper level, at some point I assume that students also see these as problems that require solutions. This, presumably, would constitute a failure to academicize, according to Fish, and goes perilously beyond "doing my job." The great risk, he says, is that I cannot effectively defend myself against conservative interest groups that might claim I am brainwashing my students from a left-wing perspective. If I cannot claim that I am objectively, neutrally examining a topic, keeping my own political commitments out of the classroom, then I (and academia in general) cannot effectively stand ground against the accusation that we are "indoctrinating" our students. I do not want to downplay the seriousness of the risk Fish is concerned about in today's political climate. But it is worth keeping in mind, I think, that there are related risks in not questioning the game, as well, in trying to prove our worth to a standard we did not set. Kristin Shrader-Frechette, for instance, reminds us that "alleged neutrality [rather than advocacy] actually serves the status quo,"18 and she adds: ["T]o avoid uncritical acceptance of status quo values one must criticize values rather than remain ethically neutral in all cases."19 Returning to the topic of rape, then, my failure to address it and to name it as a "contemporary moral problem" only cements or adds to its invisibility and thereby its intractability as a problem. In failing to engender philosophical debate or even discussion on this topic, I was allowing myself to be constrained by a certain conception of what debate in my courses had to look like: that philosophical debate "proper" would revolve around whether an issue is right or wrong, permissible or impermissible, and would involve sharply opposing views; since I could only, in good conscience, represent rape as wrong and impermissible, I would be unable to cultivate proper philosophical discussion. APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 14 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 that rape is morally wrong-is an unjust approach to teaching the topic of rape. 21. It does not mean, however, that no harm is done. I still worry profoundly about these discussions, and always introduce the class and preface our discussions with a note of caution for survivors of rape. I warn them that they will read and view material that may have a "triggering" effect, and that they should feel free to leave the classroom at any time or set up alternative assignments ahead of time if they do not feel safe participating in class discussions. I am aware of the recent debates about "trigger warning" requirements for college syllabi, and although I have not made up my mind about whether this is good policy, and certainly appreciate some of the academic risks to such policies, it is perhaps fair to say that I offer a verbal "trigger warning" in my own classrooms. (Thanks to the APA newsletter reviewers for pointing to the relevance of these debates.) 22. Crouch, "Implicit Bias," 219. 23. Ibid., 220. Crouch notes: "Feminist philosophers and critical race philosophers have revealed these assumptions in their critiques of mainstream philosophy . . . their revelations seem to have been taken up by few, primarily philosophers whose work focuses on issues of justice and oppression. That is, the bias has been revealed, but it has not been recognized as a bias by many of those who possess it. . . . The bias is about gender, race, and ethnicity, as well as the very definition of philosophy, and so has significant practical implications for those who wish to study and develop careers in philosophy" (219). BIBLIOGRAPHY Crouch, Margaret A. "Implicit Bias and Gender (and Other Sorts of) Diversity in Philosophy and the Academy in the Context of the Corporatized University." Journal of Social Philosophy 43, no. 3 (2012): 212–26. Fish, Stanley. Save the World on Your Own Time. New York: Oxford University Press, 2008. Friedman, Marilyn. Autonomy, Gender, Politics. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. MacKenzie, Catriona, and Natalie Stoljar, eds. Relational Autonomy: Feminist Perspectives on Autonomy, Agency, and the Social Self. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Shrader-Frechette, Kristin. "An Apologia for Activism: Global Responsibility, Ethical Advocacy, and Environmental Problems." In The Environmental Ethics and Policy Book, Third Edition, edited by Donald Van DeVeer and Christine Pierce, 635–44. Belmont, CA: Wadsworth Publishing Company, 1994/2003. Singer, Peter. "Famine, Affluence, and Morality." In Applied Ethics: A Multicultural Approach, Fifth Edition, edited by Larry May, Kai Wong, and Jill Delston, 220–27. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1972/2011. State of the Union: The APA Board of Officers Sally J. Scholz VILLANOVA UNIVERSITY The mission statement of the American Philosophical Association specifies that, as a professional organization, the APA "works to foster greater understanding and appreciation of the value of philosophical inquiry." In this paper, I offer a glimpse into the history of the APA board of officers focusing on gender demographics. Given the unique structure of the APA, this look into our past as a professional organization offers some insight into where we are now and what sort of projects the board and its constituents ought to undertake in the future. I argue that in order to "foster greater understanding and appreciation of the value of philosophical inquiry" the APA must core values-we offer a welcoming environment." http://www. webster.edu/about. 3. Crouch, "Implicit Bias," 216-17. 4. http://www.cdc.gov/violenceprevention/pdf/sv-datasheet-a.pdf; https://www.rainn.org/public-policy/campus-safety 5. Perhaps this will change, now that rape and sexual assault on college campuses have been identified as a major problem by the White House: http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-pressoffice/2014/01/22/memorandum-establishing-white-housetask-force-protect-students-sexual-a. (Thanks to APA newsletter editors for this reminder.) 6. Fish, Save the World on Your Own Time, 12. 7. Ibid., 14. Fish's counsel runs counter to the trend in U.S. higher education to promote more "engaged" scholarship (see Association of American Colleges and Universities: https://aacu. org/civic_learning/index.cfm), and perhaps even to the new REF (Research Excellence Framework) standards to be rolled out in the UK by the end of 2014, through which funded research must demonstrate its impact beyond the walls of its academic institution: http://www.ref.ac.uk/. 8. Fish, Save the World on Your Own Time, 50. 9. Ibid., 70. In response to the objection that value-neutrality is impossible, that teaching on this model requires apathy and indifference, Fish qualifies his argument: we need not be indifferent, but our hopes for students must not translate into any kind of betrayal of our partisan leanings, or encouragement of one form of advocacy over another. Fish is not arguing that we cannot hold such commitments, but that as instructors we should keep them to ourselves. The difficulty of achieving the type of neutrality Fish advocates has nothing to do with its legitimacy and importance, he might say. If it's tough to keep our views to ourselves, he might answer, then we'll just have to try harder. 10. Crouch, "Implicit Bias," 217-18. 11. Ibid., 222. 12. Ibid., 213. 13. Ibid., 214. 14. Ibid., 215. 15. Ibid., 213. My emphasis. 16. Of course, the conception of autonomy valued is not always particularly well defined or nuanced. Just as "rational" is sometimes simplistically defined as the opposite of "emotional," "autonomous" is sometimes simplistically understood as the opposite of "heteronomous." For more sophisticated and compelling conceptions of autonomy, see Marilyn Friedman's Autonomy, Gender, and Politics, and Catriona MacKenzie and Natalie Stoljar's edited collection Relational Autonomy: Feminist Perspectives on Autonomy, Agency, and the Social Self. 17. Fish, Save the World on Your Own Time, 27. Italics in original. 18. Shrader-Frechette, "An Apologia for Activism: Global Responsibility, Ethical Advocacy, and Environmental Problems," 634. 19. Ibid., 636. She also notes that "Advocacy of any kind . . . is viewed as inimical to objectivity in general and to the academy in particular" (634), and "[t]o represent objectivity as neutrality is also to encourage persons to mask evaluational and ethical assumptions in their research and policy and hence to avoid public disclosure of, and control over, those assumptions" (636). 20. This is not unlike Peter Singer's strategy in "Famine, Affluence, and Morality": "I begin with the assumption that suffering and death from lack of food, shelter, and medical care are bad. I think most people will agree about this, although one may reach the same view by different routes. I shall not argue for this view. People can hold all sorts of eccentric positions, and perhaps for some of them it would not follow that death by starvation is in itself bad. It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to refute such positions, and so for brevity I will henceforth take this assumption as accepted. Those who disagree need read no further" (221). Students rarely find fault with this particular strategy of Singer's, even if they are much less sympathetic to some of his other claims. I have yet to have a student protest (to me, at least) that my starting point- APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 15 president, president, vice president, secretary-treasurer, and representative) sit on the executive committees of their divisions as well as on the national board. The national office, located at the University of Delaware since 1975, runs the business of the APA, an official non-profit organization. I will jump back to more history in a moment but I want to pause here to fill in more about the current make-up and functioning of the board of officers. As you may know, the APA has a number of committees. Not all committees are created equal; six are designated as "standing committees" and an additional fourteen are "special committees." Only the chairs of the six standing committees sit on the board of officers. The standing committees include the committees on academic career opportunities and placement; inclusiveness in the profession, international cooperation; lectures, publications, and research; status and future of the profession; and teaching philosophy. The committee on inclusiveness also includes the chairs of a number of special committees. As its charge reads, "The chairs of the six diversity committees (Asian and Asian-American Philosophers and Philosophies; Status of Black Philosophers; Hispanics; Indigenous Philosophers; Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender People; and Status of Women) and the ombudsperson for nondiscrimination serve as ex officio members of this committee. The committee also includes a member appointed specifically for her or his expertise on issues related to disability."2 The other special committees, to complete the list, are the committees on (1) the defense of the professional rights of philosophers, (2) non-academic careers, (3) philosophy and computers, (4) philosophy and law, (5) philosophy and medicine, (6) philosophy in two-year colleges, (7) precollege instruction in philosophy, and (8) public philosophy. All committees submit annual reports that are read and discussed (albeit briefly) by the board; the reports were formerly published in the Proceedings and are now published online. Some reports show more activity than others; and committees do, on occasion, recommend their own demise or, less drastically, their own reconfiguration. The current board is composed, then, of a chair, a vice chair, the executive director of the APA, the officers from each of the divisions, the six standing committee chairs, and, beginning in July, three additional at-large members for a total of twenty-eight members. This structure makes the APA board interesting and challenging. The work of the APA is conducted through ad hoc committees, task forces, the divisions, the standing and special committees, and of course the national office staff. Currently (as of 2012), the board meets four times a year (three by conference call and once in-person for a grueling but productive three-day meeting). Prior to 2012, the board met only once a year at the annual, in-person meeting (which was not always as long as it is now). Given that many decisions or actions of the board prior to 2012 would have to wait until that annual meeting, the business of the professional organization was very slow. Issues about or at the divisional conferences are handled by the divisions. The board oversees the national office, embrace a reflexive praxis, and I offer some suggestions for incorporating such engaged insights into the APA board of officers' agendas. A number of different histories of the APA have been published over the years, including James Campbell's A Thoughtful Profession: The Early Years of the American Philosophical Association, which John Lachs described as essential for understanding the "current problems" of the APA. What makes that history so interesting, in addition to the personalities involved, is the federal structure of the APA. If you have ever wondered why the APA can't seem to accomplish what other professional organizations seem to accomplish, more likely than not, the answer lies with this structure. Yet, I would wager that the vast majority of APA members (as well as most of those professional philosophers who opt not to join) do not understand the federal structure or have no clear idea about what that structure means. The brief statement on the APA's website reveals only a hint of the full implications. I would like to start with that statement and then offer a more complete picture of our professional organizational structure, focusing on women. We read: The American Philosophical Association was founded in 1900 to promote the exchange of ideas among philosophers, to encourage creative and scholarly activity in philosophy, to facilitate the professional work and teaching of philosophers, and to represent philosophy as a discipline. Having grown from a few hundred members to over 10,000, the American Philosophical Association is one of the largest philosophical societies in the world and the only philosophical society in the United States not devoted to a particular field, school, or philosophical approach. The APA's three divisions, the Central, Eastern, and Pacific, founded in 1900, 1901, and 1924, respectively, conduct annual meetings at which philosophers present research and exchange ideas. Since 1927, the American Philosophical Association has functioned under a constitution providing for a national board of officers.1 It is specifically this board of officers that I would like to address in my brief comments. I. FEDERAL STRUCTURE AND BOARD OF OFFICERS The American Philosophical Association's unique structure is unlike any other professional organization. What is not clearly articulated in the brief history I just quoted is that each of the divisions is more or less autonomous. Each has its own officers, and its own agenda. Each division also has its own personality and, over the years, there have been major rows and sustained efforts to maintain the distinctions as well as the autonomy (except during the war years, 1942–1944). Currently, the divisional officers (past APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 16 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 The chart shows both the size of the APA board of officers and the number of women on the board.4 In the 1980s, the Board consisted of just sixteen members: the executive director, a chair, chairs from five standing committees, and three officers from each division. The three officers included the divisional presidents. It was not until the late 1980s that presidents served for more than a single year. That explains quite a lot about why our professional organization appears to be so far behind other professional organizations. We were very late in deciding that longer-term commitments (or commitments per se) were needed for the health and well-being of the professional body. The minutes of the board's annual meetings are available in the published Proceedings (usually the November issue but often in the January issue as the annual meeting floated a bit back then). While those minutes are not always as thorough as we might like, they do reveal many progressive attempts to bring about change in the organization. The various efforts to ensure childcare at divisional meetings are an excellent case in point. The history of that cause stretches back decades and includes many of the leading philosophers of generations. However, the history also shows the difficulty of working with the federal structure with rapid rotation of divisional officers on the national board. The story of women on the board is, as the chart shows, inauspicious until recently. From 1980 to 2000, the number of women on the board was anywhere from one to five, with two being a pretty steady state. It is also worth noting that during many of those years, one of those few women was Anita Silvers. She joined the board in 1983 and was a more or less constant presence for thirty years: as secretary of the Pacific Division and later as chair of the inclusiveness committee. As the numbers show, she was at least once the only woman in the room and for many-far too many-years, she was one of two. Ruth Barcan Marcus was chair of the which manages membership, member benefits such as the newsletters and PhilJobs: Jobs for Philosophers, and many of the named prizes and lectures. Some issues actually cross the borders between divisions or otherwise affect every division. In addition, the board addresses issues of the profession including addressing sexual harassment in the profession (especially policy for APA-sponsored events), articulating best practices for interviewing, and establishing recommendations for childcare at divisional meetings, among other things. The national office runs the day-to-day business and provides the variety of member services, including publishing the newsletters and managing the member list. In recent years, the work of the national office has expanded tremendously as the APA seeks to provide more benefits and a more cohesive professional body for the membership. II. HISTORY OF WOMEN ON THE BOARD Women have been involved in the APA from the early years, but, as might be expected, not in the numbers required for a "critical mass" for social change. Mary Whiton Calkins was the first woman president of the American Philosophical Association (later the Eastern Division) in 1918-1919. The next was Grace Mead Andrus De Laguna (Eastern) in 1941-1942 and the third, Katherine Everett Gilbert, was 1946-1947. Margaret Georgiana Melvin was the president of the Pacific Division in 1951-1952, and Isabel Payson Creed Hungerland held that office in 1962-1963. In other words, there was roughly one woman president across all the divisions each decade from the forties through the sixties (with no female presidents in the 1920s and 1930s). The early 1970s had clearly seen the effects of a revolution as two of the three divisional presidents were female in 1971-1972 (May Brodbeck for the Western3-a first for that division, and Marjorie Glicksman Grene for the Pacific), a phenomenon seen again in 1975-1976 (Alice Ambrose Lazerowitz for the Eastern, and Ruth Charlotte Barcan Marcus for the Western): the seventies, in other words, saw a grand total of four female divisional presidents. The eighties went back to the reliable pattern of just one woman for the decade (there were six in the nineties; eight in the aughts; and we've already had seven so far for the teens with the promise of t more next year). But that is just the divisional presidents. And for many years, indeed, these were primarily honorific titles that required just one year of service on the national board. That has now changed; and in the past four years, the divisional presidents have taken a very active role in remaking the APA. If you will humor me, I would like to continue this walk down memory lane by looking at the last thirty-five years of the national board. Chart 1: Women on the APA Board of Officers Mary Wollstonecraft and the Voice of Passion Jane Duran UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA BARBARA 0 5 10 15 20 25 Men Women 43 Figure 1. Women on the APA board of officers. APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 17 III. REFLEXIVE PRAXIS Susan Moller Okin invited us to imagine a situation in which the people in power-the people who make policy and laws at all levels-have also nurtured a child and parented on a day-to-day basis.6 Although she was thinking of a liberal state, her insight carries over to the profession of philosophy. It also should be augmented significantly with other imaginations, such as where the people in power in philosophy have lived through struggles with poverty, sexual and/or racial harassment, inaccessible institutions, and a general sense of not being welcome. Patricia Hill Collins explores the standpoint of an academic insider-outsider through her work as a black woman in sociology;7 this concept is useful in philosophy as well. As academic insider-outsiders, those of us who hail from underrepresented groups experience the academy often as foreign and perhaps even hostile. We are also uniquely positioned within the academy to reveal elements hitherto unseen. The academic insider-outsider is useful when thinking through the background work necessary for bringing about change in the profession that is so important but rarely acknowledged or seen. As the governing body of the American Philosophical Association, the board of officers needs the standpoint of academicinsider-outsiders-at least until it no longer makes sense to speak of academic insiders at all. Recently, the Pacific Division adopted a broad statement on program diversity, began collecting data on conference participation, and began actively encouraging support of diversity efforts by welcoming volunteers for session chairs, program ideas, and paper submissions. The Eastern Division conducted a similar demographic survey this past year. Understanding who we are-a widely diverse group of philosophers-and what we need in order to flourish as academics has become a model of what the APA national board can, should, and must do. I offer three suggestions for us as regular APA members (and non-members whom I hope might join or rejoin) for how we might help to change the profession. I focus on the board not because that is the best or the only avenue of changing the profession but because that is my focus in this reflection on the state of the union. IV. INCORPORATING ENGAGED INSIGHTS INTO APA BOARD AGENDAS First: Learn about the organization. So many of us learn about the unique structure and governing bodies of the APA by actually being on the board. Even regular committee members are rarely aware of the complex structure or decision-making policies and practices. They don't know what role their committee plays in the overall structure. I say this from experience of being on two standing committees and one special committee. It was not until I chaired a standing committee and attended my first board meeting that I began to understand the APA's complex structure. I think most committees or committee members are unaware of their place in the overall governance (and financial) structure. Those of us on the board ought to share what we know both for transparency and for strategic planning (including board for six years (1977–1983) and in 1982-1983 Philippa Foot was president of the Pacific Division; aside from those two positions, the numbers for the 1980s show women in the position of divisional secretaries. Truly, that position is vital for the functioning of the national organization as well as the divisional meetings, but it is also worth noting that the social imaginary needed to be changed. As I mentioned, sometime in the late 1980s, the board increased to twenty-two members to include the vice presidents and the past presidents of each division. This allowed for three-year terms, rather than the singleyear honorific terms of former divisional presidents. The early 1990s experienced a "surge" of involvement of, or inclusion of, women, but by the late 1990s, things were back to normal with women making up 5–14 percent of the board. Between 2000 and 2001, additional positions were included: a vice chair, a treasurer (a position held by the remarkable Steffi Lewis the entire time), and the chair of the inclusiveness committee. We see a marked increase in the number of women on the board at that time. There were some turbulent years in the mid-aughts. Karen Hanson took the reins as chair of the board; she not only brought things under control, she also conducted a thorough study of the APA and issued what is now called the "Hanson Report," making crucial recommendations for significant changes. From 2004–2008, there was no vice chair, bringing the overall number on the board down to twenty-four. Dramatic changes are evident in 2010, when the number of women on the board really starts to climb, reaching over 50 percent for the first time for the 2009-2010 board year (52 percent). Moreover, it is worth mentioning that while feminists were powerful voices in the prior years, four well known feminists sat on the 2011-2012 board, including Claudia Card, Alison Wylie, Linda Alcoff, and Anita Silvers5–and all in positions of power over other branches as past presidents or presidents of a division or as chair of one of the standing committees. For 2014-2015, the board has grown again to a total of twenty-eight with three additional elected "at large" members, all three of whom are women. Currently, sixteen women are on the board for 2014-2015, including the board chair, Cheshire Calhoun. The executive director, Amy Ferrer, is a remarkable force, who brings a wealth of knowledge running non-profits. In short, in the last five years, we have taken our place as 50 percent of the national board of officers. My reading of this all too brief account of the APA's history- specifically the history of the national board-is twofold. On one hand, we have a right to be impatient. This profession is very late in changing and embracing a gender balance. On the other hand, we are living in exciting times. The last three years on the board have seen dramatic changes and I was genuinely thrilled to look around the table to see 50 percent women, 10–20 percent people of color, and approximately 10 percent disabled as well (depending on the year). There are also a significant number of people on the board who are young enough to know the importance of using new technologies. But, obviously, there is a lot more work to do. APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 18 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 But even more than that, by pay the dues I mean that we ought to put in the time-and expect others to put in the time-before issuing a complaint. It is too easy to use the blogosphere to air grievances but as the past few months have demonstrated, many of the grievances people raise against the APA are really issues that the APA as a formal organization has addressed-and was a leader in addressing. The APA is too easily seen as a scapegoat for issues that afflict the profession generally. Pay the dues by learning what policies the APA has and discussing issues with committee chairs before blaming the organization that, flawed though it is, has also been a defender of rights within the profession. Each step forward often includes a step back. But we are building momentum and having the critical numbers of folks on the board who have lived through racism, sexism, heterosexism, poverty, welfare, domestic violence, disability, illness, injury, childbirth, menstruation, and all those other real things that make us interesting and human is crucial to continuing to change.8 NOTES 1. "History of the APA," http://www.apaonline.org/?page=history. 2. The rich resources of the APA website are available at http:// www.apaonline.org. 3. The "Western Division" became the "Central Division" in 19851986. 4. Data collected by author from culling the board lists from the minutes. Available to APA members at http://www.apaonline.org/ members/group_content_view.asp?group=110449&id=209151 and JSTOR. 5. I was also on the board at this time. 6. Susan Moller Okin, Justice, Gender, and the Family, 170–86. 7. Patricia Hill Collins, "Learning from the Outsider Within: The Sociological Significance of Black Feminist Thought." 8. I am here using "real" in the same sense as the woman cited in Gloria Steinem's essay "If Men Could Menstruate," whose period came while she spoke at a conference. Steinem reports, she "said to the all-male audience, 'and you should be proud to have a menstruating woman on your stage. It's probably the first real thing that's happened to this group in years.'" http://www. haverford.edu/psych/ddavis/p109g/steinem.menstruate.html. REFERENCES American Philosophical Association. APA Divisional Presidents and Addresses. http://www.apaonline.org/?page=presidents. Accessed May 9, 2014. American Philosophical Association. History of the APA. http://www. apaonline.org/?page=history. Accessed May 9, 2014. American Philosophical Association website. http://www.apaonline.org. Collins, Patricia Hill. "Learning from the Outsider Within: The Sociological Significance of Black Feminist Thought." Social Problems 33, no. 6 (1986): s14–s32. Okin, Susan Moller. Justice, Gender, and the Family. New York: Basic Books, 1989. Steinem, Gloria. "If Men Could Menstruate." Ms Magazine. (October 1978). networking between committees). As chair of the committee that issues awards and prizes, for instance, I learned that the APA could and should receive more nominations. The committee in its current instantiation is attentive to diversity (demographic and philosophical), but we are not always given the candidates that allow us to act on that. My advice: nominate. The APA has over two dozen prizes, ranging from $500 to $30,000. We worked with other committees to generate applicants and even design new prizes. This sort of networking between committees works to the benefit of the organization and helps to create an atmosphere where a variety of voices and perspectives are respected. Moreover, all of us in the profession should think about the right people to serve on the board. When that call for nominations comes, think of the positions of committee chairs differently. These are not CV-building positions; they are profession-shaping positions. In addition to the elements of diversity previously mentioned, there is one more that needs to be considered. All too often, the majority of members on the board come from R-1 institutions with large endowments. The research support funds and teaching releases at those institutions do not reflect the reality of most academic philosophers. As we think about board nominees, I would encourage us to think about populating the board with a wider variety of academic social classes. It might be argued that that further burdens the burdened-and it does-but the profession will not change unless the reality that most of us live is reflected in the discussions and decisions of the board. My second suggestion is to use the organization. Ask a board member to take up a topic; use the committee structure. The six standing and fourteen special committees of the APA were designed and developed to address specific concerns in the profession. When they are chaired well, they function well. The task forces and ad hoc committees-like the recent task force on sexual harassment chaired by Kate Norlock and the task force on diversity chaired by Elizabeth Anderson-are particularly effective. They offer timely reports to problems identified by the board, problems often brought to our attention by regular members using the organization. When we have longer-term issues of concern, we can raise them with specific committees. Many chairs welcome this input. All chairs ought to. We might also approach chairs or committee members with a plan of action that seeks the support of the APA committee structure. My third point is what I call "Pay the dues." Here I don't mean merely paying the APA dues, although that is important. The APA cannot operate without our financial support. It has been and continues to be the governing body that sets the standards for interviews, sexual harassment policy, accessibility, etc. These professional standards and interventions have been historically important in changing hiring and retention matters. As professional organizations go, our dues are quite a steal. APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 19 encounter difficulties with a slow pace. Wollstonecraft was herself, of course, that sort of person; in a sense, her pleas for the vindication of women as creatures possessing a generally responsible human rationality run at cross purposes to some of the events of her own life. But the two strands of Mary merge, so to speak, in her larger purpose: what Wollstonecraft is after is a commitment to rationality with a sensibility behind it to point it along the way. Thus the difference between the life that Wollstonecraft sees for an educated woman and the possibilities that she sees for an educated man revolve around the notion of commitment and care for others, melded by a sort of trained passion. That these are important beliefs for Wollstonecraft is obvious from a perusal of all her works.4 What Maria needs is an adequate marriage, and a way to yoke the emotional power that she possesses to a life that would be worth leading. In an essay titled "Reason and Sensibility," Catriona MacKenzie has written: [T]he overriding preoccupations of Wollstonecraft's work, as well as of her life, were to articulate what it means for women to think and act as autonomous moral agents, and to envisage the kind of moral and political organization required for them to do so. Although at times she seemed to identify autonomy with reason, defining it in opposition to passion. . . . Wollstonecraft also struggled to develop an account of women's moral agency that would incorporate not only a recognition of women's capacity to reason but also of their right to experience and give expression to passion, including sexual desire.5 The expression of both passion and sexual desire were, of course, central issues in Wollstonecraft's life. Perhaps one of the best exemplars of Wollstonecraft's position on the unification of passion and reason is the character of Jemima in Maria. More so than the title character herself, Jemima embodies the challenge of a female intellect with the misfortune of grinding poverty at that stage in England's history. It seems in her case that her every attempt to better herself-to make herself more aware of the world around her, and how to cope with it-leads to further degradation, which is made all the more painful for her because of her sensitivity, intelligence, and thoughtfulness. In constructing this character, Wollstonecraft seems to want to be able to say that a different sort of social structure might provide for women in general, but would have a decidedly beneficial effect on a woman like Jemima who finds herself at the bottom of the social scale. If it is difficult for the woman of high social standing, how much more so for the woman with no connections. After Jemima has told a large part of her tale of woe, Wollstonecraft has Maria say the following: And as for the affections . . . how gross, and even tormenting do they become, unless regulated with an improving mind! The culture of the heart ever, I believe, keeps pace with that of the mind.6 Mary Wollstonecraft and the Voice of Passion Jane Duran UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA BARBARA Mary Wollstonecraft's tempestuous life and work have been the subject of extended commentary, and, in a sense, it would not be fair or accurate to say that hers is a reputation that needs resuscitation. Nevertheless, there are, so to speak, two Marys-there is the Enlightenment thinker who is the author of both the Vindication of the Rights of Men and the Vindication of the Rights of Woman, and the other Mary, author of novellas and letters, and passionate woman of her time. Indeed, the two dramatis personae here have long been seen by many as being at war; it has been difficult for commentators to reconcile Wollstonecraft's appeals to reason with her writing style, or with some aspects of her own life.1 None of this would be as problematic as it might immediately seem were it not the case that Wollstonecraft wrote the second Vindication, manifestly, to attempt to show that women are human beings possessing the same moral rights as men, and that they have capacities for reason that, in general, are unfulfilled and unused. Thus the very emotional qualities that Wollstonecraft often employs in her work might be deemed to be somewhat at variance with her stated theses, or so one could argue. That there is a holism at work here is an important point that requires argument, and an examination of Wollstonecraft's work tends to support it. I Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman, is one of Wollstonecraft's attempts to put some of her ideas in fictional form.2 Edited by Godwin after her death, it is-like so much literature of the time-somewhat difficult to read today, but it is extremely helpful in elucidating the role that passion plays for a woman of sensibility. The Wollstonecraft of the Vindications is concerned that women have never been allowed to use their faculties; part and parcel of a woman's faculties, however, is her capacity for passionate attachment. Before Maria is able to tell her story to Jemima, she already says a good deal that leads us to expect that she has had her own trials in adapting some sort of rationality to a life of high feeling: "Have patience!" exclaimed Maria, with a solemnity that inspired awe. "My god! How I have been schooled into the practice!" A suffocation of voice betrayed the agonizing emotions she was labouring to keep down; and conquering a qualm of disgust, she calmly endeavored to eat enough to prove her docility, perpetually turning to the suspicious female, whose observation she courted, while she was making the bed and adjusting the room.3 At this point we do not know about Maria's marriage, but what we do know is that her trials in keeping her emotions in check bespeak the sort of personality that will always APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 20 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 The uselessness of the lives of upper class women is not a fate to which they must be destined; it is a product of social conditions, and Mary Wollstonecraft is quite adept at delineating those conditions. Contra Rousseau, Wollstonecraft does not see a "state of nature" as an ideal state. But she is well aware of the different uses to which states or governments may be put. In a society geared toward a humane notion of egalitarianism, the gifts that various individuals have- especially females-would be allowed to grow and put to some use. Indeed, as was customary at the time, it is clear that Wollstonecraft does feel that women have some special gifts, a point also made by Rousseau. In such a society, that which had been put into place by the Creator, so to speak, would be allowed to grow in its own way, and to profit. The problem is that inegalitarian institutions, particularly those aimed toward the wealthy, or toward the betterment of males, have a tendency to encourage and inculcate behaviors that ultimately lead to "vice."8 Once again, Wollstonecraft sees no apparent contradiction between passion and reason, if they live on amicable terms in the same soul. But both her political essays, and works such as Maria, show that the unrestrained growth of the passions can be harmful indeed. Examples of the unhealthy society and what it can produce-a society based on privilege, and one that protects only or mainly privilege-abound in Wollstonecraft's writings. In the second Vindication she notes: Strengthen the female mind by enlarging it, and there will be an end to blind obedience; but, as blind obedience is ever sought for by power, tyrants and sensualists are in the right when they endeavor to keep women in the dark, because the former only want slaves, and the latter a plaything. The sensualist, indeed, has been the most dangerous of tyrants, and women have been duped by their lovers, as princes by their ministers, whilst dreaming that they reigned over them.9 Again, a social structure based on aristocratic dominance produces a sphere in which everyone is kept on a lower level, for the good of those on top. But, specifically, with respect to women, much that takes place allows for women to be demeaned within the confines of the home, even while they "dream that they reign." Such a society is sunk in corruption and allows for the proper growth of virtually no one. III In a sense, Wollstonecraft aims at a sort of perfectibilism that is at least not incompatible with what will later become a fully developed utilitarianism. It is clear that she feels that the greater good of each-the fuller development of each- leads to the greater good of the whole. Her feminism, as we have seen, leads some critics to be wary of her emphasis on passion, but leads still others to be concerned about her lack of what we might label (in today's terms) a "gender" view. Thus Wollstonecraft is, preeminently, a feminist whose avowed goal for women is a set of rights This might serve as a summation for all that Wollstonecraft truly wants to assert-women have been deprived of ways of guiding their affections, and this lack of guidance (and the general improper social channeling to which women are often exposed) gives rise to the vain creature of fashion, so contemptuously treated by Wollstonecraft in the Vindication. The import of the second Vindication is such that it is crucial to get clear on both why it must be seen, historically, as a significant philosophical work, and what the relationship of that work to Wollstonecraft's other writings is. Although, as has been noted, Wollstonecraft's personal life and relationships sometimes belie what she claims to be her reliance on rationality, we must note that such considerations are almost never taken into account in the work of male philosophers. Thus getting to the heart and core of her work is of considerable import. II Although it is clear that Wollstonecraft valorizes passion yoked to reason and commitment, much of the commentary on her work fails to take note of her position on religious questions and, tersely, of her metaphysical views, somewhat sketchy though they may have been. Spelling them out helps to fill in the blanks on why the uniting of reason and emotion are so important for her. Wollstonecraft posits a general sort of Creator, and in Enlightenment fashion refuses to be specifically Christian about some portions of her doctrine. Instead, in a section of the second Vindication titled "The Rights and Involved Duties of Mankind Considered," she notes: In what does man's preeminence over the brute creation consist? The answer is as clear as that a half is less than the whole; in Reason. What acquirement exalts one being above another? Virtue; we spontaneously reply. For what purpose were the passions implanted? That man by struggling with them might attain a degree of knowledge denied to the brutes; whispers Experience.7 In other words, Wollstonecraft clearly sees a moral obligation on the parts of human beings to reaffirm their place in the scheme of things by fulfilling the duties for which their Creator has prepared them. Although by today's standards Wollstonecraft is no doubt guilty of speciesism-and, in much of her work, Eurocentrism-it is obvious that the progressive import of her work is that there is to be no separation of the sexes insofar as these human characteristics are spelled out. Thus "Reason" is as available to women as to men, and Virtue is also available to all, given that any individual takes the care to attempt to inculcate it. Where Wollstonecraft shines is in her ability to discern that the bare conditions for the exercise of Reason and the attainment of Virtue may not be available to all. Thus she sees that many among the most povertystricken-men and women-are denied these conditions, and (among the upper classes) women preeminently. APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 21 literary sort of way. Jemima is a victim of England's worst social conditions, and she is female. She develops what at the time would have been regarded as a peculiarly female range of vices, and she is herself a proponent of the idea that social conditions forced her into such a state. But, as we have seen, Wollstonecraft is concerned about egalitarianism as a whole. The point of creating more equal social conditions is, ultimately, the betterment of society. And there is no exaggeration in saying that everything Wollstonecraft wrote is dedicated to this end: a society infused with passion and governed by reason. NOTES 1. Catherine Villanueva Gardner, for example, in her Women Philosophers (Boulder, CO: Westview, 2003), has an entire chapter on Wollstonecraft to address these issues. Part of her argument is that Wollstonecraft's style cannot easily be separated from her claims. As she says, "the expression and form of her work is integrally connected to its moral content" (83). 2. Mary Wollstonecraft and Mary Shelley, Mary, Maria and Matilda, ed. Janet Todd (London: Pickering and Chatto, 1991). Maria takes up pp. 55–148 of this work. 3. Ibid., 63. 4. Gardner remarks that "This is not to say, of course, that Wollstonecraft is not aware of the way that sensibliity is a doubleedged sword for women" (Gardner, Women Philosophers, 110.). 5. Catriona MacKenzie, "Reason and Sensibility: The Idea of Women's Self-Governance in the Writings of Mary Wollstonecraft," in Hypatia's Daughters, ed. Linda Lopez McAlister (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1996), 181–203. This citation p. 182. 6. Wollstonecraft, Maria, 88-89. 7. Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (New York: W. W. Norton and Co., Inc., 1975), 12. 8. Ibid., 16. 9. Ibid., 24. 10. Moira Gatens, "'The Oppressed State of My Sex': Wollstonecraft on Reason, Feeling, and Equality," in Feminist Interpretations and Political Theory, eds. Mary Lyndon Shanley and Carol Pateman (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1992), 112–28. This citation p. 113. BOOK REVIEWS Immigration Justice Peter W. Higgins (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2013). 272 pages. $120.00. ISBN: 978-0-7486-7026-0. Reviewed by Amandine Catala UNIVERSITÉ DU QUÉBEC À MONTRÉAL, [email protected] According to what criteria should states grant or refuse admission to prospective immigrants? In Immigration Justice, Peter Higgins provides the first systematic feminist analysis of the philosophical question of immigration. Formulating just immigration policies, Higgins argues, requires analyzing immigration as a matter of structural justice, and hence using gender, race, class, sexual orientation, etc., as central analytical categories. That is, to the extent that immigration policies have an impact on individuals as members of particular social groups, whether immigration policies are just can be assessed compatible, insofar as is possible, with those given to men. As Moira Gatens says, In her attempt to stretch liberal principles of equality to women she neglects to note that these principles were developed and formulated with men as their object. Her attempts to stretch these principles to include women results in both practical and conceptual difficulties. These principles were developed with an (implicitly) male person in mind, who is assumed to be a head of household (a husband/ father) and whose domestic needs are catered for (by his wife). . . . No matter how strong the power of reason, it cannot alter the fact that male and female embodiment . . . involved vastly different social and political consequences.10 But a fair assessment of this line of critique must make implicit (and explicit) allusion to the period in which Wollstonecraft was living. We know that her first Vindication was specifically addressed to Burke, the same Burke who, in his Reflections, wants to know why a thousand swords did not come to the defense of Marie Antoinette. Wollstonecraft has to fight battles on at least two major fronts: the blows for women come in the context of the French Revolution, the primary blows of which were aimed, obviously, at the aristocracy. Any move that is made at the time for a full establishment of women's rights perforce must be a slant or take which draws on the greater line of the establishment of human rights in general, and it is, of course, men who are paradigmatically the possessors of these rights. All of the foregoing is consistent with what we have already articulated as Wollstonecraft's anti-Rousseauian, or antistate of nature, stance. Again, it is not society or civilization itself that is the issue: it is the way in which society is structured. Gatens is correct in that we see very little evidence in Wollstonecraft of the type of feminism that, in today's terms, gives gender its due. But it simply was not possible for Wollstonecraft to theorize in that manner at that time. IV We have been arguing that the apparent tension and contradiction alleged to exist in Wollstonecraft between the voices of reason and passion is not nearly as serious an issue as some have made it out to be. What Wollstonecraft is after is a uniting of reason and passion so that the one governs the other, but the latter enriches the former. This, along with education and a striving for wholeness, will, according to Wollstonecraft, ultimately yield the society that is best for all. Part of our argument has been that much of the commentary on Mary Wollstonecraft as a thinker omits works such as Maria in the discussion of the two Vindications. Although we have no evidence that Wollstonecraft thought seriously about the notion of genre, the fact that she wrote in a variety of modes should signal to us that she took her fiction to be important. It is clear that the characters drawn in Maria-both the title character and Jemima, for example-are intended to further her own arguments in a APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 22 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 policies are just for a particular state will be contingent on two main factors, namely, the global economic and political position of that particular state, as well as the social groups most vulnerable to the immigration policies adopted by that particular state. Chapters two and three identify significant problems with two prominent types of position in the philosophical debate on immigration. In chapter two, Higgins carefully examines nationalist approaches to immigration justice. Higgins considers well-known arguments advanced respectively by Michael Walzer, David Miller, and Stephen Macedo-all proponents of prescriptive nationalism, which holds that a state's immigration policy should be guided by that state's "national interest," understood in political, cultural, or economic terms. Collectively, these arguments presuppose that there is a morally salient difference between citizens and foreigners; great global harms such as severe poverty and major basic rights violations are due entirely to domestic causes (the explanatory nationalist view); immigration is a matter of beneficence rather than one of distributive justice (let alone structural justice); nations are unified, homogeneous entities; and the economic welfare of the receiving state has normative priority (and might accordingly require admitting more or less immigrants). Higgins's careful examination of nationalist approaches reveals that they rest on both morally inadequate and empirically inaccurate assumptions: for example, "national interest" more transparently corresponds to "dominant interest" and speculation regarding the economic impact of skilled versus unskilled migration either fails to take the full domestic, let alone global, picture into account or turns out to be simply false. In chapter three, Higgins thoroughly reviews cosmopolitan approaches to immigration justice. He first considers inclusive cosmopolitan arguments. In this section, he surveys two of the most famous arguments in the debate on immigration (made respectively by Carens, Chandran Kukathas, Will Kymlicka, and Philip Cole, among others): that opening borders represents an effective remedy for global poverty, and that it is logically entailed by liberalism. Higgins shows that both arguments rely on inaccurate empirical assumptions. First, the world's poorest most often do not have the means to emigrate. Second, poverty does not result merely from domestic factors plaguing certain countries. Indeed, brain drain and remittances can each exacerbate poverty. Third, structures of inequality impacting members of vulnerable groups (women, racialized, and poor people) tend to constitute a transnational constant between sending and receiving societies. The other inclusive cosmopolitan arguments challenged by Higgins in this section are the Rawlsian, libertarian, and democratic arguments for open borders (advanced respectively by Carens, Hillel Steiner, John Exdell, and Carol Gould). Higgins next considers exclusive cosmopolitan arguments, which hold that the equal moral status of citizens and foreigners sometimes requires restricting immigration. In this section he addresses four arguments: the environmental impact, egalitarian ownership, political burden, and global harm arguments (advanced respectively by Robert Chapman, Mathias Risse, Michael Blake, and Shelley Wilcox). Higgins's thorough only by considering the particular social institutions and relations from which those social groups result. Specifically, Higgins's central thesis, which he calls the Priority of Disadvantage Principle (PDP), holds that "just immigration policies may not avoidably harm social groups that are already unjustly disadvantaged" (20). Because the empirical context that renders certain social groups vulnerable varies from state to state, which particular immigration policy a particular state should adopt will depend on the particular empirical circumstances that characterize it. In our nonideal world, then, the justice of immigration policies cannot be determined a priori, but instead will always be contextdependent. Since it requires that immigration policies be adopted by each state on a case-by-case basis, the PDP by itself thus neither universally supports nor universally precludes restrictive or permissive immigration policies. Higgins's position stands in sharp contrast with the three main types of position in the current philosophical debate on immigration: the moral sovereignty of states view, the prescriptive nationalist view, and the open borders view advocated by many cosmopolitans. Philosophically innovative and empirically informed, Immigration Justice fills a crucial gap in the literature. In the first chapter, Higgins introduces the general empirical and philosophical contexts surrounding the question of immigration. The chapter begins by setting aside some common misconceptions regarding the patterns and causes of international migration, such as the belief that most of the world's migration is from the south to the north, by the world's poorest, who choose the destination that they know will maximize their economic prospects; that emigration is mainly driven by poverty, persecution, and overpopulation; or that open-borders immigration policies represent an effective means of alleviating global poverty. Global migration data, Higgins explains, shows instead that south-north migration accounts for only 35 percent of global migration; that most migrants are people from socially intermediate classes and from parts of the world that are witnessing economic development; that the main causes of emigration are personal connections (such as family and friends), ecological disasters, and globalization; that migration flows tend to follow historical colonization and military ties; and that migration from the global south to the global sorth contributes to keeping the former dependent on the latter. These empirical observations take on particular significance in light of Higgins's concern with the structural character of immigration justice. Precisely in virtue of this concern, Higgins goes on, in the remainder of the chapter, to challenge two problematic assumptions that often underlie and shape the philosophical debate on immigration: John Rawls's view that immigration can usefully be analyzed through an ideal-theoretical lens; as well as the view, held by Joseph Carens or Thomas Pogge, for example, that immigration is merely an epiphenomenon of global poverty. Higgins argues that ideal theory, by failing to consider the structurally unjust character of our non-ideal world, will yield normatively inadequate policy recommendations; and that immigration policies and international migration constitute exacerbating factors in global inequalities of wealth and opportunity. Higgins concludes the chapter by drawing out its implications in light of the PDP: determining which particular immigration APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 23 state of nature, communitarian, freedom of association, and associative ownership arguments for the moral sovereignty of states view (advanced respectively by John Scanlan, O. T. Kent, Walzer, Christopher Wellman, and Ryan Pevnick). The moral sovereignty of states view is a non-substantive view that challenges all views that hold that states' immigration policies should be subject to certain principles of political morality (that is, all views that provide a substantive criterion by which to assess the justice of immigration policies). Upholding the PDP (Higgins's own version of the cosmopolitan approach) thus requires defending it against prescriptive nationalist principles of political morality as well as against competing cosmopolitan principles of political morality. In doing so in the remainder of the chapter, Higgins stresses the normative priority that the capabilities of members of unjustly disadvantaged groups should be accorded when selecting immigration policies. Because capabilities play such a crucial role in Higgins's argument, a somewhat more detailed account of capabilities would have been a pertinent addition to delineate more precisely the PDP and its implications. Relatedly, Higgins's defense of the PDP, in chapter five and throughout the book overall, emerges primarily from the negative critique of competing approaches rather than as a positive argument. As an explanatory rather than a justificatory chapter, chapter four specifies, rather than positively argues for, the PDP. Still, by successfully challenging its many rivals in chapters two, three, and five, Higgins makes a robust and persuasive case for the PDP. Higgins closes, in the sixth and final chapter, by making concrete policy recommendations based on the PDP. Specifically, he assesses eight exclusion criteria (poverty or financial need, cultural dissimilarity, national origin, social group membership, medical condition, criminal history, national security, and annual quotas); two admission criteria (economic potential and family relationships); and three admissions-related immigration policies (emigration compensation, emigration restrictions, and emigrant taxation). Like the nationalist and the other cosmopolitan approaches, the PDP is not defined by the specific type (restrictive or permissive) of policy recommendation that it makes. What makes the PDP a uniquely forceful approach to immigration justice is that it fundamentally rethinks the relevant social ontology of global migration. Migration involves, first, individuals not as isolated atoms but as members of particular social groups. Migration affects, moreover, not only migrating individuals but also non-migrating members of unjustly disadvantaged social groups in both the receiving and especially the sending societies. This means, finally, that migration flows are not causally prior to states' immigration policies, as if the former occurred entirely independently of the latter. States' immigration policies have a direct impact on global migration and their significantly, yet avoidably harmful, consequences can no longer be ignored in discussions of immigration justice. Those discussions must therefore be empirically informed in the relevant ways-that is, in ways that take the relevant social ontology into account. review of extant cosmopolitan approaches ultimately shows that they suffer from an internal inconsistency, from a lack of empirical or philosophical support for their own conclusions, or from both. Higgins makes clear, however, that he does not oppose cosmopolitan approaches in principle. Indeed, his own PDP is a further type of cosmopolitan approach (since it denies that there is a morally salient difference between citizens and foreigners). Chapters two and three having seriously called into question some of the most prominent positions on immigration justice, chapters four, five, and six proceed respectively to explain, defend, and apply the PDP. In chapter four, Higgins spells out each of the axiomatic terms that make up the PDP: "just immigration policies may not avoidably harm social groups that are already unjustly disadvantaged" (108). Drawing on the work of Iris Marion Young and of Ann Cudd, Higgins defines social groups as "constituted and differentiated from one another by members' relation to social institutions, which condition the opportunities of the members of a social group in similar ways" (111). Social institutions refer to formal and informal norms and practices. Because the existence of social groups is a function of social institutions, membership in a social group does not depend on self-identification and what social groups there are will vary across space and time with the social institutions whose product they are (112-113). A social group is disadvantaged "when its members tend to lack central human capabilities, relative to the members of the corollary privileged group" (119). Higgins conceives of capabilities as positive freedoms or individuals' effective ability "to do certain things or achieve certain ends (that is, to function in certain ways)" (122). Individuals' capabilities, like the social groups to which those individuals belong, are determined by the way social institutions operate (123). Higgins's conception of the metric of disadvantage in terms of capabilities avoids the problems of both underinclusiveness and overinclusiveness that both a subjective welfare and a resourcist account face (124). A social group's disadvantage is unjust, moreover, when either membership in that social group is not voluntary or when individuals have a moral right to voluntary participation in the group (132). Higgins specifies that he conceives of the PDP not as a backward-looking principle that would impose "a duty of rectification owed to socially disadvantaged groups on account of the unjust disadvantage they have experienced" but rather as a forward-looking, consequentialist principle (135). (The difference between the backward-looking and forward-looking understandings of the PDP, Higgins explains, matters not in its defense but in its application.) An immigration policy harms a disadvantaged social group when an alternative policy would bring about more expansive capabilities for that group's members. This harm is avoidable if there is an alternative policy that "harms that group less" and that "does not harm a more disadvantaged social group" (141). With the definition of the PDP firmly in place, Higgins turns, in chapter five, to the defense of the PDP. Against the moral sovereignty of states view, which holds that states are free to choose whatever policies they wish, Higgins argues that states must choose their immigration policies according to certain principles of justice. He rejects the international APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 24 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 people think of bodies as especially valuable and they are usually instrumental to health, autonomy, or happiness. Phillips begins by noting that there is a gendered subtext to dualism that elevates the mind and reason at the expense of emotions and the body (29). From a feminist perspective, embodiment is morally significant because women and men do have different concerns in virtue of their distinctive bodies, and devaluing the body perpetuates the idea that the male body is a kind of moral default, while the female body is an anomaly. Moreover, bodily experiences like pain and fear are important in understanding the distinctive harmfulness of rape (64). Insofar as dualism encourages us to think of rape as a "mind crime," or as "sex minus consent," dualism misses important aspects of the phenomenology of rape, particularly the significance of harms to the body (63). I am skeptical of the intrinsic significance of embodiment, though I believe that embodiment can be significant for conditional reasons, such as the fact that many people experience their embodiment as especially significant. I am convinced of dualism in part because of science fiction hypotheticals such as Derek Parfit's example of a teletransporter.1 Parfit asks us to imagine a teletransporter that obliterates every atom in my body on earth and creates an atom-by-atom replica at a space station on Mars. Though my body (including my brain) has been obliterated, I have survived because "what matters" about me, my psychology and my memories, woke up on Mars. If this example is unconvincing, we needn't appeal to science fiction to make this point. Brain transplants and artificial bodies are almost technologically possible. The intuition that we do not think that transplants or teletransportation are a threat to what matters about a person suggests that we do not believe that people are intrinsically embodied, and that bodies are more like objects we can possess or inhabit. These examples also challenge the claim that dualism is question-begging because it cannot explain what is left of the self without the body (26). It is true that minds happen to require bodies, but bodies are not intrinsically necessary for the existence of a mind. If dualism is plausible, Phillips's critique of the dualist "sex minus consent" theory of rape merits a closer look. There is an entire subculture of people who seek consensual sex that causes them pain and fear, and view masochistic sex as a form of empowerment. Emphasizing the bodily aspect of rape seems to suggest that there is at least something pro tanto wrong with BDSM, but as long as it is consensual, it's not clear why painful sex or sex that causes fear is wrong at all. On the other hand, some rape victims may not experience pain or fear when they are raped, yet even without pain and fear, rape is nevertheless an unconscionable violation. This suggests that lack of consent is sufficient to explain why rape is wrong. One concern about the dualist approach is that it makes it more difficult for people to identify with rape victims because it masks the fact that we are all vulnerable as a result of our embodiment (64). Yet a focus on embodiment doesn't necessarily benefit rape victims. Implicit association tests reveal that men who score highly on rape-behavior In addition to providing an extremely thorough and insightful survey of the literature, Immigration Justice offers a novel, compelling, and important contribution to the debate on immigration. The book will be of great interest not only to scholars and students working on immigration in particular, but also to anyone working on territorial rights, nationalism, cosmopolitanism, global justice, poverty, development, international relations, and feminist philosophy. Our Bodies, Whose Property? Anne Phillips (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2013). 216 pages. $27.95. ISBN 978-0-691-15086-4. Reviewed by Jessica Flanigan UNIVERSITY OF RICHMOND, [email protected] In Our Bodies, Whose Property? Anne Phillips argues that human bodies should not be understood as property. Her novel and engaging argument for this thesis has two steps. First, we are all fundamentally embodied beings and, in this way, we are all equally vulnerable, regardless of our material positions. Therefore, bodies are not like objects we can sell because embodiment is fundamentally linked to our moral equality. Secondly, applying property conventions to bodies would further undermine economic justice because bodily markets are intrinsically unequal, and allowing markets in body parts or bodily services would have unjust macro-level effects. Together, these arguments are a powerful challenge to the idea that property conventions should extend to the human body. In this review, I argue that, contrary to Phillips, we should think of bodies as objects, and that property conventions should apply to body parts and bodily service markets. I first refute Phillips's claim that we are fundamentally embodied beings. This has important implications for her discussion of rape and why rape is harmful. I then turn to Phillips's arguments about property and markets. I argue that property conventions should apply to bodies because organ and surrogacy markets are at least voluntary, unlike legal limits on markets. Policies that restrict bodily service markets risk making the bodies of the worst-off involuntarily subjected to the authority of the political community, which is a greater harm than the harms associated with markets. 1. RAPE AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF BODIES In contrast to other objects, bodies could be especially morally important either because of their conditional relationship with other experiences or goods, or in their own right. Phillips argues that bodies are morally distinctive in their own right because people are intrinsically embodied and the self cannot be understood apart from the body (11). Most ethicists would acknowledge that people are valuable whether they are valued or not. Phillips's claim is that bodies are also unconditionally valuable because they cannot be separated from the people who inhabit them. The alternative view, what Phillips calls "dualism," is that the person is distinct from the body. Dualism holds that bodies are just like other objects, except for the fact that APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 25 should not promote markets that are inherently unequal, so property conventions should not extend to the body. Elsewhere, I have argued that bodily markets are not more linked to material inequality than other markets, and that bodily markets may alleviate other troubling inequalities between healthy and unhealthy people.5 I reject any property system that requires people to sell their labor or body parts in order to survive, which is why I advocate for a basic income. Unlike a basic income, limits on bodily markets address material inequality by limiting the options of the worst off, rather than by redistributing the wealth of the better off. A related argument against markets is that property conventions should not reliably undermine people's ability to recognize our common humanity, which bodily markets would do. On Phillips's account, embodiment highlights our shared vulnerability and grounds our moral equality (39), and thinking of bodies as property makes it easier for purchasers to discount the sacrifice that is made by people who sell bodily services or body parts (117). Still, I am not convinced that the fact that we all have bodies grounds the specialness of the body (18). Time is also a scarce resource that highlights our shared vulnerability, yet all labor markets sell human time and that practice does not undermine perceptions of the moral equality of people who work long hours. One could reply that allowing time to be governed by market norms does make it harder to identify with workers and easier for employers to discount the sacrifice of employees. But this argument against property conventions risks proving too much by condemning all labor markets as pro tanto unjust. Finally, even if markets in bodily services do undermine perceptions of equal moral status, it is not clear that limiting surrogacy contracts and organ markets solves the problem. Phillips is admirably nuanced in her policy solutions. One concern about these solutions, however, is that they treat potential surrogates and organ vendors differently from other workers. In this way, limits on organ and surrogacy markets could undermine perceptions of moral equality rather than protecting moral equality. If people who would be inclined to provide surrogacy services or organ sales are denied the legal right to do so, especially if the reason for limiting their occupational freedom are linked to their lower economic status, then limits in bodily markets could heighten perceptions of inequality and contribute to other paternalistic or infantilizing attitudes towards women and the economically worst off. Indeed, the same reasons that make bodily markets problematic also make any policy solutions intended to restrict bodily markets even more problematic. I will expand on this argument in the final section. 3. MACROLEVEL EFFECTS AND THE PROPERTY SYSTEM Phillips favors limits on bodily markets because she maintains that the property system should promote equality. Above, I suggested that treating surrogates and organ vendors differently in a property system could contribute to perceptions of inequality. But Phillips is not only concerned with the equality of particular surrogates analogues and display rape proclivities are more likely to associate images of female bodies with objects.2 Moreover, social psychologists find that when women are objectified, they are less likely to be perceived as having independent minds, and objectification also diminishes perceptions of women's ability to experience pain and causes perceptions of incompetence.3 These studies suggest that attentiveness to embodiment may diminish people's ability to identify with rape victims, since objectification overemphasizes embodiment and deemphasizes a woman's mind. 2. BODIES AND EQUALITY Phillips's rejection of dualism is also significant because it supports her arguments against thinking of bodies as objects within a broader property framework. If persons and bodies are inseparable, then bodily markets could be interpreted as akin to markets in people. Phillips rejects this equivalence, but she does argue that dualism threatens to disparage the body (53) in a way that can potentially legitimize thinking of one's own and others' bodies as resources to be bought and sold (104). Yet this possibility is only a concern if it is a mistake to think of bodies as marketable resources. In this section, I turn to Phillips's arguments against applying property conventions to bodies. While I agree that the property system should treat bodies differently from other objects, I will suggest that the specialness of bodies is actually a reason in favor of thinking of bodies as property. Even though bodies are not intrinsically different from objects like cars or computers, they are very different from other objects in virtue of their very close connection to people's minds. Harm to the body can cause physical pain as well as emotional distress. At least for now, whole bodies are irreplaceable. More than other objects, bodies are necessary for people to carry out their intentions. Bodies tend to be more intimately tied to a sense of self, and people tend to think of their bodies as sacred or morally significant. Even if those views are mistaken, it is at least morally significant that people overwhelmingly think their bodies different from other objects and value them differently. One lesson to take from the fact that people tend to value their bodies as especially intimate and important is that of all the objects that a property system would deny people control over, bodies should be the last on that list. For this reason, taxes on income are generally more acceptable than the kidney taxes that are proposed by Cecile Fabre.4 Conscripting a person is morally worse than copying and using an idea for the greater good. Of all the objects that can be appropriated and controlled, bodies are off limits. Phillips interprets this as a consideration against extending property conventions to bodies, whereas I will suggest that the subjective importance of bodies is actually a consideration in favor of bodily markets. Phillips endorses limits on bodily markets such as organ sales and surrogacy contracts for the sake of economic justice. She claims it is delusional to think that anyone would choose to specialize in selling body parts or services were it not for their economic depravation, so bodily markets are inherently premised on inequality (120). Property systems APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 26 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 Men's Implicit Dehumanization of Women and Likelihood of Sexual Aggression," Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 38, no. 6 (June 1, 2012): 734–46, doi:10.1177/0146167212436401. 3. Steve Loughnan et al., "Objectification Leads to Depersonalization: The Denial of Mind and Moral Concern to Objectified Others," European Journal of Social Psychology 40, no. 5 (August 1, 2010): 709–17, doi:10.1002/ejsp.755. 4. Cecile Fabre, Whose Body Is It Anyway? Justice and the Integrity of the Person (Oxford University Press, USA, 2006). 5. Jessica Flanigan, "Inequality and Markets in Bodily Services Response to Phillips," Political Theory 41, no. 1 (February 1, 2013): 144–50, doi:10.1177/0090591712463202. 6. Debra Satz, Why Some Things Should Not Be for Sale: The Moral Limits of Markets (Oxford University Press, USA, 2010). 7. Anderson makes a similar argument about prostitution. See Scott A. Anderson, "Prostitution and Sexual Autonomy: Making Sense of the Prohibition of Prostitution," Ethics 112, no. 4 (July 2002): 748–80, doi:10.1086/339672. Holding and Letting Go: The Social Practices of Personal Identities Hilde Lindemann (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014). 219 pages. $55.00. ISBN: 978-0-19-975492-2. Reviewed by Sara Goering UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON, [email protected] This is a book about the social practice of personhood and personal identities. Rather than thinking of personhood as a status conferred on an individual only in virtue of some capacity the individual has, as many philosophers have traditionally done, Lindemann argues for a relational understanding of personhood in which existing persons not only initiate other humans into personhood but also collaboratively define their personal identities, hold each other in them, and eventually let each other go. She explores what such holding and letting go looks like in a variety of different contexts through the life course- pregnant women considering their fetuses, parents rearing children, relatives attending dying loved ones-and offers analysis of how we might morally evaluate such work. What is it to hold others well, when are we required to let go, and how can we recognize clumsy, but still valuable, holding done by individuals whose own identities are beginning to fray? To give the relatively abstract discussions traction, Lindemann populates the book with well-crafted, illustrative stories. These short narratives offer the reader a glimpse of how identity work plays out in the complicated relationships that make up human lives. As she notes in the closing chapter, the social practice of holding and letting go of the stories that in part comprise the identities of our fellow humans is so natural to most of us that it goes unnoticed. We do it, but we may not recognize or at least make explicit what we are doing. With this book, Lindemann encourages the reader to broaden the meaning of personhood, to appreciate its deeply social nature. Personhood, for Lindemann, is the "practice of physically expressing one's personality to other persons who recognize the expression for what it is and respond accordingly" (97). and organ vendors; she is also concerned with the equality of women and economically vulnerable people as groups. She suggests that property conventions applied to bodies could prevent policy-makers from considering the macrolevel effects of body part and bodily service markets (145). For example, organ markets could mean that kidneys are viewed as permissible forms of collateral for loans and bodily service markets could contribute to a society where even more invasive uses of employees' bodies are accepted.6 Phillips draws an analogy to other labor regulations when she suggests that governments in both cases should restrict the options of the vulnerable individuals for the sake of vulnerable groups (90). This position is not paternalistic; rather, the worry is that thinking of some people's bodies as commodities could ultimately make everyone worse off by introducing pressure for everyone to commodify their bodies.7 I grant that these macro-level harms are possible, although I'm not sure it would be a bad thing if people felt pressure to sell organs, since that pressure would make organ shortages less likely. But even if surrogacy and organ markets do lead to social pressure to participate, at least the participants in those markets still give their consent. In contrast, any policy that limits bodily service markets coercively deprives would-be participants control over their bodies without giving them the opportunity to consent. For this reason, property conventions should apply more strongly to body parts and bodily service markets than other kinds of markets, because it is more important that people are able to consent to what happens to their bodies than other objects they control. Even if it is morally problematic that poor and middle-income people's bodies are used to patch up or gestate the bodies of the rich, it is more problematic if poor and middle income people are prohibited from making decisions about their own bodies for the sake of social and economic justice. Phillips is aware of this concern but does not address the objection that legal regulations of bodily markets are particularly wrong because people cannot consent to them (30). Opponents of bodily service and body part markets frame the issue as if the pro-market side is exploiting the bodies of the poor for their own goals, which in this case are the goals of solving organ shortages and assisting infertile couples. Those who favor limits on bodily service and body part markets also deprive the worst off of control over their bodies by supporting legal limits on occupational freedom. The difference is that the worst-off consent to participation in markets but are never asked to consent to legal limits on their economic options. My concern is that any effort to limit bodily service and body part markets potentially trades voluntary subjugation in the marketplace for involuntary legal oppression. Even if property conventions applied to bodies did undermine economic justice in some ways, the refusal to extend property conventions to bodily services and body parts is a greater injustice. NOTES 1. Derek Parfit, Reasons and Persons (Oxford University Press, 1984). 2. Laurie A. Rudman and Kris Mescher, "Of Animals and Objects APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 27 she may begin to tell stories about the embryo, her relationship with it, and her own evolving self-conception. She sets the stage for the arrival of a new person, and prepares others to expect him/her as well. The stories that are told call up new narratives of identity, and these create normative expectations about how others should respond. Lindemann, borrowing from Ruddick (2000), suggests that we can have "proleptic" or forward-looking relationships with the fetus, in which we act as if a future state of affairs already existed (as if the fetus already is a person) (48). Nonetheless, Lindemann is clear that, on her view, fetuses cannot count as persons because they do not have their own personality to express early on, and later, any protoexpression of personality is hidden from view and cannot be socially recognized. (She grants that the pregnant woman herself may recognize some expressions of personality in the later stages of pregnancy-"she's a real kicker"-and such stories may begin to form a proto-identity for the lateterm fetus, but Lindemann asserts that "fetal identities are too rudimentary to get a purchase on [personhood]" (59)). Chapter three, "Second Persons," explores the ways in which babies gain personal identities and personhood, even well before they are capable of reason or language or many of the other traditional philosophical marks of personhood. Even very young babies interact with their caregivers and imitate them, learning bit by bit how to participate in the human social game: its expressions, rules, norms, etc. Over time, they learn habits of both thought and action that become what Aristotle thought of as "second nature." This chapter also explores how young children get sorted into, and learn to sort others into, social categories, such as gender, race or ethnicity, religious group, ability group, etc. Belonging in such categories is not simply discovered through acknowledgement of natural facts but is conferred based on widely shared rules that find expression in our language, our categorization schemas, our power systems, etc. Lindemann cites work by Asta Sveinsdottir (2013) and a paper by Sally Haslanger (2003); Haslanger's 2012 book Resisting Reality is a good resource here as well. Resisting the identities bound up with deeply engrained social kinds is incredibly difficult. We can have an identity conferred on us that we want to resist, but it is still possible, even likely, that "we will be treated according to who we seem to be, even if that's not who we are" (82). A young black man can resist mainstream society's implicit categorization of him as a potential threat or a possible criminal, but he may nonetheless be understood that way and feel trapped in an imposed narrative web that he struggles to escape. Even social misrepresentations of identity, then, can have surprising power in holding us in identities we resist. This leads to a discussion about the importance of letting go of some identities, of recognizing when others whose personalities and identities we thought we had characterized aptly turn out to contest those characterizations, or simply to grow away from them. Our personal identities, then, are achieved through interpersonal recognition and response. They are not simply an aggregate of our experience and narratives told by us and others about that experience but a chosen selection of those experiences that confers a particular identity: this helps to define me, while that was an aberration or a fluke that does not play a significant role in my ongoing story. To be a person, then, a human must have sufficient mental activity to have a personality and aspects of that personality must be expressed somehow (even if not in language). This means that fetuses are not yet persons, and individuals in persistent vegetative states and anencephalic infants are likewise not persons. But many others-including very young infants and individuals with profound cognitive disabilities- would indeed be persons, not only because they can express personality but also because other people can help to hold them in their identities. On this view, personhood is socially made, not individually discovered. Other persons call individuals into personhood and help them develop and hold on to their personal identities. Because of this, one cannot be a person if one is never recognized as such by any other person. Lindemann opens the book with a chapter that relays her family's experience holding her sister Carla, a child born with hydrocephaly, in personhood. Although Carla had significant cognitive disabilities and a relatively brief life, her family helped to weave an identity for her-a vulnerable infant daughter, a playmate, a valued member of the household. The identity conferred by each family member needed a ground in Carla's personality and her situation, but each family member saw her somewhat differently, and the web of these narratives combined with her personality gave Carla a personal identity. In Carla's case, her identity was maintained more fully by her family members than through her own active contributions. In more typical cases, individuals contribute significantly to their personal identities from a first-person perspective, based on how they understand and identify themselves; but even here, the stories and perspectives of others inevitably shape one's personal identity. One might naturally wonder, though, if some nonhuman species ought not be recognized as persons on this social view. Is my dog-who decidedly has his own personality, expresses it and gets recognition for it, has narratives told to help shape his identity-also a person? On this question, Lindemann notes that other species may have their own social practices that result in something like a community of shared assumptions and an interconnected way of being, but such creatures do not "share in our form of life" (19). Unlike a nonhuman animal, Carla was "born into a nexus of human relationships that made her one of us" (20). We love other animals and share our lives with them, but they do not thereby become persons; what we mean by "person" is a social achievement of humans. (This leaves open the possibility that other social species may have their own versions of something like personhood, which is unique to their group and built from their particular social practices; it also recognizes the reality that human persons have moral obligations to nonhuman animals even if they are not our kind of person.) This line of thinking, also explored by Cora Diamond (1991) and Eva Kittay (2005), has an intuitive appeal, but one imagines some readers wanting more justification here. In chapter two, Lindemann explores the way we might begin to call a fetus into personhood. A newly pregnant woman, for instance, cannot appeal to any personality of the embryo inside her, but if she wants to be a mother, APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 28 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 this topic in the future. All in all, this is a wonderful book, starting with a provocative thesis and filled with stories and examples that enliven the argument. Readers familiar with Lindemann's work will recognize themes from her book Damaged Identities, Narrative Repair, as well as chapters built from previously published articles. The completely new pieces, and the collection as a whole, however, offer much to be appreciated, with thoughtful and compelling analysis of issues the previous works raised but did not fully answer. BIBLIOGRAPHY Diamond, Cora. "Eating Meat and Eating People." In The Realistic Spirit: Wittgenstein, Philosophy and the Mind. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1991. Dworkin, Ronald. Life's Dominion. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1993. Haslanger, Sally. Resisting Reality: Social Construction and Social Critique. New York: Oxford University Press, 2012. Haslanger, Sally. "Social Construction: The Debunking Project." In Socializing Metaphysics, edited by F. Schmitt. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2003. Jaworska, Agnieszka. "Caring, Minimal Autonomy, and the Limits of Liberalism." In Naturalized Bioethics, edited by H. Lindemann, M. Verkerk, and M. Urban Walker. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009. Kittay, Eva. "At the Margins of Moral Personhood." Ethics 116, no. 1 (2005): 1001–131. Lindemann, Hilde. Damaged Identities, Narrative Repair. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2001. Ruddick, William. "Ways to Limit Prenatal Testing." In Prenatal Testing and Disability Rights, edited by E. Parens and A. Asch, 95–107. Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2000. Sveinsdottir, Asta. "The Social Construction of Human Kinds." Hypatia 28, no. 4 (2013): 716–32. Fortunes of Feminism: from StateManaged Capitalism to Neoliberal Crisis Nancy Fraser. (London, New York: Verso Books, 2013). 256 pages. $24.95. ISBN 13:978-1-84467-85-0 Reviewed by Rita Manning SAN JOSE STATE UNIVERSITY, [email protected] This is a very fine collection of essays written from the late 1970s to the present and organized to reflect major shifts in feminist theory and practice. Nancy Fraser describes Act One, when the "personal became political," as a time when feminism, in connection with other radical movements, "exposed capitalism's deep androcentrism and sought to transform society root and branch" (1). Act Two turned from a concern with redistribution to a focus on identity and social difference. Act Three refocused on the struggle to "subject runaway markets to democratic control" (1). This last act should be, Fraser argues, one of the current central foci of feminist theorizing and practice. Part One, titled "Feminism Insurgent: Radicalizing Critique in the Era of Social Democracy," includes four essays. The first, "What's Critical About Critical Theory?," is a feminist critique of Habermas's analysis of late-capitalism. She In the fourth chapter, Lindemann takes up "ordinary identity work" and what it means to "respond accordingly" to a personality, as well as why that is an important part of the practice of personhood. She starts from the underappreciated idea that we are all practicing improvization in our lives: we can never be sure of what to expect, whom we will encounter, or what role we might need to play in response, and so we end up performing some roles and identities awkwardly (101). Indeed, performances of identity and responses to them can go wrong in a variety of ways, including 1) someone being "off" mentally, because drunk, insane, obsessively holding on to negative stories; 2) someone offering misleading expressions of identity, as in someone withholding important information relative to their identity, or deliberately deceiving another about one's identity pretending to be someone else; 3) others misinterpreting what they see, what Lindemann calls "misfiring recognition" (109), in which others either simply fail to appreciate or give uptake to the individual they behold, or they cling to old stories that fail to accurately represent the present individual; and 4) others offering "misshapen responses" (115) to the persons they encounter, as when a woman is recognized as a woman but treated as inferior because of an entrenched master narrative grounded in sexism. Lindemann explores these possibilities and ends the chapter with a discussion of what our obligations might be to hold people in their identities and/or personhood, or to let them go. Chapter five explores situations in which people struggle to perform their identity work: adult children whose parents have dementia, wondering how to appropriately hold their loved ones, and when/how to let go, transpersons and their families, attempting to articulate and claim seemingly impossible identities given engrained social categories and master narratives, and hypocrites and wantons, who seem to claim identities to which they are not entitled, or fail to have fully formed identities at all. In this discussion, Lindemann rejects the idea that there is a "real self" to be discovered (133) and instead seeks to understand how our identities evolve over time, and what responsibilities our families, friends, and strangers have to participate in that evolution (looking at the link between vulnerability and special responsibilities) (151). The final chapters of the book take up the question of when to let go of identities (and persons) at the end of life (chapter six), and offer a short conclusion about the significance of the social conception of personhood and personal identity described in the book (chapter seven). The discussion of letting go pits the protection of "critical interests" from Dworkin (1993) against Jaworska's (2009) protective stance toward the minimal autonomy of people with dementia, who may appear to change course by voicing preferences seemingly contrary to their previously espoused wishes. Lindemann sides with Dworkin here, noting the importance of holding an individual in his identity even if, or perhaps particularly when, he is flailing and scared in the face of death. While the social conception of personhood adds an intriguing twist to this debate, I am not convinced that Lindemann gets it right, given her recognition of the ways that our identities can change in response to difficult circumstances. I look forward to continued discussions of APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 29 involvement in the associational life of civic society-while also leaving time for some fun" (135). There is something odd about rereading discussions about welfare-state capitalism in a world in which some of its critics are beginning to feel some nostalgia about its loss. But I think that much of what Fraser has to say in Part One is important for what it reveals about our current reality, and for what it imagines. Her analyses of need and dependency perfectly capture present day political maneuvering about federal extensions of unemployment insurance, for example. And given the new neoliberal order in which job security is a vanishing idea and caregiving responsibilities are increasingly privatized, a world in which we all have time for some fun seems more important than ever. Part Two turns to Second Act questions, as Fraser addresses identity and social difference. In chapter five, "Against Symbolicism: The Uses and Abuses of Lacanianism for Feminist Politics," she argues that Lacanianism is an inhospitable resource for feminist theorizing, in contrast to pragmatic discourse analysis, which she sees as extremely useful for feminist theorizing. She notes that this is not a critique of Lacan, but a critique of "an ideal-typical newstructuralist reading of Lacan that is widely credited among English-speaking feminists" (145) and a critique of Julia Kristeva. She faults the reading of Lacan for a number of reasons. First is its determinism, including the view that the subordination of women is "the inevitable destiny of civilization" (146). Secondly, she argues that this view differentiates identity in a binary fashion: having or lacking a phallus. Third, she notes that it cannot account for changes in identity across time. Fourth, this view makes social solidarity not potentially emancipatory but illusory. Fifth, in its focus on the symbolic order, it makes other cultures and pluralities of speakers inconceivable. Since Fraser sees a rejection of biological determinism, a plurality of identities, the possibility of identity changing across time, and emancipatory social solidarity as key themes in feminism, these flaws are devastating from a feminist perspective. She argues that while Julia Kristeva's work is an initially plausible feminist reworking of Lacan, it too fails because it "leaves us oscillating between a regressive version of gynocentric-maternalist essentialism, on the one hand, and a postfeminist anti-essentialism, on the other. Neither of these is useful for feminist theorizing" (157). Fraser concludes that if Lacanianism is not the answer, and a focus on language is instructive to feminist theorizing, then pragmatic discourse analysis is the solution. She offers the following advantages of pragmatics: it insists on social context and practice, studies a plurality of discourses, and understands identity as "complex, changing, and discursively constructed" (157). While I am very sympathetic to Fraser's preference for pragmatic discourse models, I wonder if she hasn't begged the question against Lacanian models by insisting that the advantages she cites for a pragmatic model are really essential to feminist theorizing. While I want to believe that identity is "complex, changing, and discursively constructed," what if I am laboring under an illusion? I think there are good reasons in favor of the former view, but it needs to be argued for, especially in the face of a great deal of feminist theorizing in the Lacanian tradition. rejects Habermas's concern that reforms of the domestic sphere are intrusions on symbolic reproduction activities while reforms of the paid workplace are legitimate, and notes that the domestic sphere is thoroughly infused with market dynamics, so that reforms must be waged on both fronts simultaneously. Fraser concludes by noting the shape that a critique of welfare-state capitalism ought to take. First, it ought to be cognizant of the thorough integration of market dynamics into family functioning. Second, it should be sensitive to the "ways in which allegedly disappearing institutions and norms persist in structuring social reality" (51). Third, it must foreground "the evil of domination and subordination" (51). Chapter two, "Struggle Over Needs," addresses the various discourses that are used to conceptualize need. The struggle to win satisfaction of needs proceeds through the following stages: first, one must achieve political recognition of the need. Next, one must struggle to interpret and define the need. Finally, one struggles to provide for the need. The state adjudicates between these discourses through the vehicle of a bureaucratized expert needs discourse. This discourse, administered by members of various professional classes, redefines needs in terms of "bureaucratically administerable (sic) satisfaction" (70) and in terms of states of affairs that could affect anyone, like unemployment. Fraser offers two kinds of considerations that must be considered and balanced in deciding between interpretations of needs. First, she argues that consequences must be relevant. Second, she argues that we should understand legitimate social needs in terms of rights. Chapter three, "A Genealogy of 'Dependency': Tracing a Keyword of the U.S. Welfare State," coauthored with Linda Gordon, provides a fascinating account of the concept of dependency from its normatively neutral roots in the preindustrial era to its entirely negative connation in the contemporary world. In the preindustrial era, dependency was a fact of life, and dependence on one's master in the feudal era was modeled on dependency on God. In the current environment, dependency is a despised, gendered, and raced concept, inflected with individual moral and personality defects. Chapter four, "After the Family Wage: A Postindustrial Thought Experiment," considers three alternatives to the now largely extinct model of a family existing on one wage. The first is the Universal Breadwinner, where everyone works in the paid labor force. The second is Caregiver Parity, where caregivers are given compensation and recognition for the importance of their caregiving activities. While she finds something to like about each of these models, she notes that both "assume background preconditions [such as] . . . major political-economic restructuring . . . public control over corporations, the capacity to direct investment to create high-quality permanent jobs, and the ability to tax profits and wealth at rates sufficient to fund expanded high-quality social programs" (133). She defends the third, Universal Caregiver, as the only postindustrial world compatible with gender justice: "A social world in which citizens' lives integrate wage earning, caregiving, community activism, political participation, and APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 30 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 Chapters nine, "Feminism, Capitalism, and the Cunning of History," and ten, "Between Marketization and Social Protection: Resolving the Feminist Ambivalence," may be the most controversial chapters in this collection. In these chapters, she raises the question of the connection between recent feminist theory and the triumph of neoliberalism. Her view is twofold: the first is that neoliberalism has cunningly availed itself of feminist theory and practice; the second is that feminists need to rethink their theory and practice in light of both the dangers of neoliberalism and its flagrant use of feminist insights and practices. Her insights here are telling. She describes, for example, how neoliberalism embraced feminism's preoccupation with hierarchies of status rather than explorations of economic class. Similarly, feminist concern with the injustice of stateorganized capitalism and welfare state paternalism was a great comfort to neoliberals intent on freeing markets from state interference. Nancy Fraser has been, and continues to be, a champion of the political-economic analysis even when this analysis was out of fashion. She is, however, also committed to the view that the subordination of women must be separately analyzed and addressed through the lenses of misrecognition and misrepresentation. The new crisis of neoliberal ideology coupled with rapacious international capitalism thoroughly vindicates her commitment to socialist feminism, and these essays have certainly withstood the test of time. The current crisis of persistent unemployment and increasing economic insecurity cannot be addressed by a focus solely on problems of recognition. But neither can we address these economic problems by failing to note their gendered and global dimension. This wonderful collection of essays does justice to all these approaches while suggesting new ways to bring them into conversation. Hard Feelings: The Moral Psychology of Contempt Macalester Bell (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013). 292 pages. $49.95. ISBN: 9780199794140. Reviewed by Devora Shapiro SOUTHERN OREGON UNIVERSITY, [email protected] Macalester Bell, author of Hard Feelings: The Moral Psychology of Contempt, gives a four-fold definition of the moral emotion "contempt." First, contempt is "partially constituted by an appraisal of the status of the object of contempt" (37); second, it is a "globalist response towards persons" (40); third, contempt must have a "comparative or reflexive element" (41); and fourth, contempt initiates a withdrawing from the condemned (44). She constructs her project largely as a defense of contempt as a moral emotion; from beginning to end, she engages with naysayers, acknowledging likely objections and demonstrating the flaws in such objections. In the process of defending contempt as a moral emotion, Bell constructs an engaging and effective argument for the Chapter six, "Feminist Politics in the Age of Recognition: A Two-Dimensional Approach to Gender Justice," argues that a feminist focus on recognition alone fails as an analysis of and solution to problems facing women today. Fraser argues that an analysis of gender and a principle of gender justice must combine concerns with redistribution along with concerns about recognition. Redistribution focuses on the political economy where women are disadvantaged both in the family and in the paid work force. Recognition focuses on the cultural arena where androcentrism holds sway. While she insists that these two realms have some interaction, she also claims that no solution which ignores one of them will be sufficient to address the subordination of women. In chapter seven, "Heterosexism, Misrecognition, and Capitalism: A Response to Judith Butler," she reiterates this claim: "both sides have legitimate claims. Social justice today . . . requires both redistribution and recognition; neither alone will suffice" (186). The principle of justice she argues for is the principle of "parity of participation . . . justice requires social arrangements that permit all (adult) members of society to interact with one another as peers" (164). Two conditions must be satisfied for participatory parity. First, every member must have access to the material resources that allow independence and standing in the conversation. Second, all members must be seen as entitled to equal respect and equal opportunity for self-esteem. She illustrates how these principles work in a number of examples. One instructive example is the French banning of the foulard (head scarf) in state schools. This example illustrates the dual use of the principle that she advocates when cultural and gender issues intersect. First, she argues that we should apply the principle to the culture. In this case we ask whether the ban is an unjust treatment of Muslim community values. Next, she says that we must ask whether these norms subordinate women. The answer to the first question is clear: Christian crosses are not banned in state schools, while the answer to the second question is more controversial. These two chapters combine the concerns of both Part One and Part Two by showing that neither set of concerns is alone sufficient to theorize or address the subordination of women. While there are a number of questions that remain, I think she has made a very persuasive case. The essays in Part Three situate feminist theory and practice in the global, neoliberal world. She begins, in chapter eight, "Reframing Justice in a Globalizing World," by adding to her account of justice, which previously focused on redistribution of resources and access to recognition and self-esteem, a third dimension: the political. This dimension is concerned with representation: the criteria of social belonging and the procedures for who can make claims for redistribution and recognition. So there are now three dimensions of justice that play a role in analyzing and responding to the subordination of women: redistribution, which concerns the allocation of material resources; recognition, which concerns cultural questions of identity and exclusion; and representation, which concerns the question of who is entitled to make claims of redistribution and recognition. APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 31 while still being both "objective and subject-relative" (81). What this entails is that there be a third-person, objective perspective from which one could identify a contemptuous characteristic as the most important of all characteristics, to the evaluation at hand. Further, Bell insists on a subjectrelative aspect of moral evaluation as legitimate and necessary to our judgments. The subject-relative aspect refers to our need (and ability) to take up the subject's perspective with regard to the object of contempt, and thus "the fittingness conditions for our globalist emotions are contoured by the relationship between the subject and target of the emotion" (85). Who the subject is in relation to her object of contempt matters to our evaluation of the aptness of her contempt, and the importance of the failure of the contemned, in relation to his other character traits, and in the context of the contemnors evaluation, is relevant to the fittingness of her contemptuous response. The structure of Bell's account of contempt as rooted in a hierarchical societal structure suggests a special focus on the vices of superiority, and at what she terms "superbia": essentially the vice of considering oneself superior to someone. Superbia "poses a threat to our shared practice of morality," and Bell identifies contempt as the strongest and most effective response to superbia's divisive character (162). She explains, "superbia damages our moral and personal relationships, and contempt answers that damage" (148). It appears that, in the context of superbia, apt contempt is the most appropriate response to inapt contempt. This is most obviously discernable in instances of racism: a vice of superbia that largely displays inapt contempt, and is most appropriately challenged with apt forms of contempt (203). Though many critics of contempt site its potency for disrupting and dissolving relationships as negative, Bell defends the withdrawing from associated with contempt, as signifying contempt's appropriateness in some circumstances. Contempt's ability to address racism brings together its fittingness as a response to superbia, with the characteristic withdrawing from that it motivates. Bell's discussion of racisim highlights the role that contempt plays within a social world that can harbor oppression and other systemic political injustices, and she devotes chapter five to a closer evaluation of the harms and merits of contempt with regard to racism. Of particular concern to critics is the potential for contempt to disproportionately affect victims of stigmatizations in a negative way and to a greater degree. Bell rightly highlights these critics' confounding of inapt, racist contempt, with the apt contempt that she suggests is an appropriate response to racists. She clarifies for these critics that "race-based contempt is objectionable," because as an attitude it is "fundamentally at odds with the respect and affective openness characteristic of unimpaired moral relations" (213). She goes on to defend instances of incivility as appropriate resistance, and explains that apt counter-contempt is "often the best way of answering this objectionable attitude" (226). In this context contempt represents an appeal to self-respect, and the rejection of the constraints of "civility" is therefore warranted. acceptance of contempt as a positive moral emotion. She articulates the justified form of contempt-apt contempt- as "a positive moral accomplishment insofar as it answers certain faults," but situates her treatment of the emotion outside of the standard discourse, claiming that "it is difficult to account for contempt's positive value using the tools of contemporary moral theory" (7). In short, she argues that "contempt is an apt response to those who evince . . . the vices of superiority" (9). What comes through as most distinctive about contempt for Bell is the hierarchical, stratifying, and status-oriented element of contempt. Throughout her work, she refers to the necessity of hierarchical status structures to the existence of active (rather than passive) contempt. Such structural identification is central to what distinguishes contempt from "its closest cousin," disgust,1 and the status orientation of contempt is necessary for its "downward looking" attitudinal characteristics (54). That is, contempt is most notably a social manifestation signifying a politically and morally imbued response to persons. The way in which this is a response to persons, in fact, is central to its distinctiveness from the competing moral affect that is more accepted in contemporary moral theory: resentment. Resentment, unlike contempt, is act-focused, rather than global. That is, "resentment" in its standard treatment is presented as resting in the self-respect of the resenter, and the correlating "holding responsible" of the resented for her actions (10). Rather than addressing the whole person, resentment is act-focused; we resent an agent's actions, but we condemn whole "persons" as contemptible. Bell is clear that she appreciates the use and import of "resentment" as a moral affect, but she rejects the push to focus on resentment, only, as an adequate moral response to persons. Fundamentally, "resentment is characteristically focused on wrongdoing as opposed to badbeing"; the latter is associated with contempt (163). Bell addresses what she identifies as "the fittingness objection," insisting that the global nature of contempt is consistent with an identification of contempt as a potentially positive moral emotion. Objections centered around "fittingness" express concern over the identification of certain attitudes such as shame and contempt as moral because these attitudes may fail to ever properly "fit," or accurately represent, their targets (65). Because contempt, like shame, is a "globalizing" emotion, it identifies an entire person as "shameful" or "contemptuous," rather than just her actions. But justifying the identification of a person as contemptuous would mean, according to critics, that the whole person be on the hook for one trait she happens to harbor. And, they claim, evaluating a person based on one trait of many is inappropriate. Thus, objectors would suggest, contempt is never fitting. Defending contempt as a moral emotion that is both globalizing and yet still fitting is one of the most interesting claims she makes. In defending contempt in this way, she introduces the full force of what she means in presenting contempt as containing positional and relational elements (80). As a positional and relational, globalist emotion, contempt can succeed in meeting the fittingness objection, APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 32 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 phenomena to be analyzed. Bell often remarks on the cultural dependency of "contempt," noting that Americans may not have a conscious understanding of the emotion, pointing to Jane Austen's beautiful illustrations of the social power of contempt, and identifying social hierarchy, itself, as a necessary element under-girding the very possibility of active contempt.2 She stops short, however, of engaging directly with the larger implications of "contempt" as a necessarily socially situated, moral emotion.3 Overall, Bell's Hard Feelings is extremely successful and engaging. The strongest feature of this work is that it successfully constructs the bridgework needed in order for further projects, such as those I outline above, to gain traction in mainstream conversations. Bell explains the setting and placement of her work very well, and she does an excellent job pushing the boundaries of the conversation outward, opening up space for further work in many areas of philosophy interested in the moral worth and place of contempt, as well as other "hard feelings." NOTES 1. Along with the absence of nausea in most cases. 2. Active, rather than passive, contempt is the sort that Bell is concerned with in her treatment here. 3. With regard to any naturalized approaches to moral psychology. Identities and Freedom: Feminist Theory between Power and Connection Allison Weir (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013). 192 pages. $25.00 ISBN: 0199936889. Reviewed by Shay Welch SPELLMAN COLLEGE, [email protected] In Identities and Freedom: Feminist Theory between Power and Connection, Allison Weir argues for a conception of identity as a practice of identifying-with, which she believes can be a source of freedom. The purpose of the book is to reorient feminists' perspective on and valuation of identity. She argues that the typical association of identity with liberal conceptions of freedom has generated a static understanding of identity that functions as a trap, since the liberal focus on individuality qua self-creation produces an understanding of identity as a metaphysical category. Identity conceived of in this way imparts oppressive effects on the identity bearer, given that identities as categories are strongly tied to stereotypes about those identities. Thus, she argues, there is a paradox of identity in connection to freedom, since the markers of freedom in the liberal tradition are sources of stasis that ultimately reduce the notion of identity to one of sameness. Instead of limiting our understanding of identity to one bound by liberal conceptions of freedom, Weir suggests that we understand identity through a plurality of freedoms. More specifically, she maintains that a dynamic conception of identity that evolves out of practices of identifying-with must be located within a framework of social freedom, which is the freedom to flourish and to live a meaningful life through one's connections to others. Weir constructs Bell's defense of contempt as a moral emotion is both timely and well executed. She also addresses the role of contempt in forgiveness and reconciliation, which are both very important aspects for consideration, and likely of import to many readers here. In the remainder of this review, however, I would like to focus more pointedly on some already noted issues that may be of particular interest to readers with a focus in feminist and social philosophy and theory. From the perspective of a general philosophical audience, Bell's work addresses central issues and objections to "contempt" as a moral emotion, and she does this very well. Bell often points to and invokes glaring social issues that an acceptance of the moral value of contempt appears to connect with, and she does this most effectively when she identifies race and racism as the foreground of many disturbing displays of inapt contempt. She does this, however, from a position that is often situated from within the traditional narrative of mainstream philosophy, and seems to shy away from engaging these issues too far outside the constraints of the traditionally proscribed debates in contemporary moral theory. Bell's project is understandably responsive to central concerns about contempt that arise for contemporary moral theory's attachment to an "ethics of action" (16), given that she rightly identifies such theories as dominant in the literature. She also engages cognitive theories of emotion and the feeling-based theories of emotion favored in the moral psychology literature. Bell does a good job of explaining how her defense of contempt must exist outside these debates, and she is convincing in her arguments for moving beyond the standard repertoire of normative theories that philosophers are wont to latch onto. She instead requires only a "minimally acceptable morality" as support for her defense of contempt (23). The concern I have is that she does not go far enough in pointing out the inadequacies of the standard theoretical approaches to capturing the moral importance of powerful "negative" emotions, and is tacitly accepting of the use of terms such as "inappropriate," "uncivil," and "irrational" to characterize such emotions, as well as the actions that these emotions might motivate. On the one hand, perhaps some emotions might be "shameful." More often, however, such terms are used to stack the deck against us; these are the terms used from positions of power, to maintain control, and promote the Panopticon's self-policing of the oppressed. The skirting of a more critical engagement with topics that directly invoke a multi-layered evaluation of power, as well as her avoidance of a more explicit conversation regarding the social ontology of "emotion," results in Bell accepting as relevant some basic starting points that warrant serious scrutiny. This is evident in her treatment of moral psychology, specifically. While she is critical of approaches in moral psychology that lack the nuance necessary to properly evaluate and value emotions such as "contempt," she stops short of questioning the project of investigating moral emotions as if they were natural kinds to be discovered, rather than socially entrenched APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 33 approach. Weir posits that practices of identification can be practices of freedom through a combined process of authenticity seeking and critical reflection-neither of which can be done outside of relations. The authenticity of individual identities evolves from an affirmation of one's desires and connections against a background of one's personal history and the history of one's social category. These histories and relational contexts are crucial for the purpose of initiating and sustaining critiques of the social categories and constructions that generate meaning for one's life. The freedom that one pursues through these practices is the freedom to orient oneself in relation to defining communities that offer alternative interpretations of the constructions the practices challenge. Identity, as a source of freedom, then, is about (re)negotiating the connections one shares with others, and, importantly, securing and sustaining desired but given relations that engender one's sense of belonging. While this argument appears to reiterate a multitude of feminist arguments regarding autonomy and freedom, Weir's argument stands out insofar as the processes for authenticity and critical reflection are not done internally in conjunction with recognition of interrelatedness and givenness; they are active practices that must occur in the midst of and through one's relations to guide and validate the identifications with which the individual ultimately resolves for the purpose of resistance and transformation. Weir's argument for practices of identification connected to social freedom does more than merge the domains of power and connection; she evidences that the two cannot occur apart. The practice of belonging and the risk of connection are intimately wound together through the analyses of home and identity politics. Weir's account of relationality is both active and symbiotic; that is, identity is a process of identifications with one's own commitments and with others. If an individual adjusts her identifications, others with whom she is connected will experience adjustments in their own identity. For this reason, practices of belonging become central to one's identity, and those ideals and people with which she identifies. In turn, practices of belonging are practices of freedom via identity when individuals move towards communities that will shore up their identifications. Belonging and home, then, become entwined, because home is a place of safety, but not ideally so. Weir argues that home is not an absolute safe space, nor should one expect it to be. Even when patriarchal considerations of home are sequestered, the home is often a space of conflict because it is a space of relationships. Weir emphasizes that conflict is part of the practice of belonging and, consequently, there is considerable risk in connection because relationships are about renegotiating identities that hold individuals and relationships together. This is also why she views identity politics and the construction of a new "we"-solidarity- as viable. Social freedom and its practices of identification deconstruct the liberal dichotomy between autonomy and dependency for the purpose of iterating the necessity of belonging to cooperative, but conflicting, communities that recognize and navigate relations of power so as to yield relations of mutuality and flourishing. This complex and cumbersome process is the means of generating alternative interpretations and transformative identities an analysis of identity as a nuanced, but complex, web of interactions among and between relations of power and relations of meaning, connection, risk, and solidarity that are sources of freedom. Frequently, feminist theories of freedom regard identity as something that must be overcome if freedom is to be obtained, because identity is often a product of power relations meant to subjugate. However, Weir views this opposition between identity and freedom as unwarranted. Her conception of identity derives, as I have noted, from practices of identifying-with, particularly the practice of identifying with one's commitments, connections, and values. These practices are themselves practices of freedom. Weir claims that the call of some feminists to eliminate identity is unrealistic because women cannot simply step out of the processes of social construction that determine or contribute to their social location. Because identities are socially constructed, we depend on them to create and sustain meaning about who we are and what we value. She explains that this meaning is what holds us together as selves and in relations. For example, Weir argues that identity should not be something women aim to overcome and transcend, because the resistance to power relations and oppression that women have enacted historically depict practices of freedom via recreation and renegotiation; women as women have, through practices of freedom, created resistant identities in response to patriarchal conceptions of the category of woman, which has allowed the identity to be transformative. When women identify with the category of woman, they are identifying with the commitments and values of themselves and others who thwart subordinating aspects of the identity. One particularly powerful claim she makes is that the feminist objective to transcend the identity of woman diminishes the importance of the work women have put into reshaping what it means to be a woman. Additionally, to reject identity is to reject the extent to which social construction has precluded an identity politics grounded in feminist solidarity, as opposed to metaphysical sameness. Identity as a practical, ethico-political practice must be acknowledged if solidarity is to be achieved, because women must be capable of identifying with commitments and ideals of women who are differently socially constructed and interrelated to one another through divergent power relations. When the conception of identity is conceived in terms of sameness, solidarity is impossible, because women over-simplify, gloss-over, or denigrate experiences of women unlike themselves. The practice of identification is a practice of asking oneself to whom and what one is connected and committed. Weir argues that when identification as a practice of affirmation of commitments and relations replaces the static concept of identity, space opens for the creation of a "we" for the purpose of and struggle for freedom. There are three significant contributions that Weir's conception of identity makes to feminist theories of freedom: practices of identification as sources of social freedom, practices of belonging, and the importance of risk in connection. While analyses of social freedom have been developed, the relationship she articulates between identity and freedom evolves from a highly original APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 34 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 of the possibility of unity, or they theorize from a nonideal perspective that moves them quickly to the place of irresolvable difference. Weir's conclusion that home and belonging will be a difficult place to occupy is haunting but accurate. Relationships are never secure, are never without struggle. Relationships are always lived as sources of pain, but if they are healthy relationships, the pain experienced in connection can generate stronger bonds through the commitment to one another. That Weir acknowledges and embraces the reality of persistent turmoil in connection as a source of or path towards freedom individually and collectively is a fresh perspective on a lived experience that many feminists seem to want to gloss over for fear of frustrating liberation politics and coalitions. Overall, Weir's insightful project reorients her audience anew to the importance and potential of identity for freedom. But most importantly, Weir's development of risk in connection as a facet of belonging will transfigure her audience's outlook on how feminists can and should pursue freedom together. CONTRIBUTORS Alison Bailey is a professor of philosophy at Illinois State University where she also directs the Women's and Gender Studies Program. She has published on issues at the intersections of feminist theory, philosophy of race/ whiteness studies, and epistemology. Her recent scholarship includes "White Talk as a Barrier to Understanding the Problem of Whiteness" (What Is It Like to Be a White Problem, 2014); "On White Shame and Vulnerability" (South African Journal of Philosophy, 2011); "Reconceiving Surrogacy: Towards a Reproductive Justice Account of Indian Surrogacy" (Hypatia, 2011); "On Intersectionality and White Feminist Philosophy" (The Center Must Not Hold: White Women Philosophers on the Whiteness of Philosophy, 2010); "On Intersectionality, Empathy, and Feminist Solidarity" (The Journal of Peace and Justice Studies, 2008); and "Strategic Ignorance" (Race and Epistemologies of Ignorance, 2007). She co-edited The Feminist Philosophy Reader (2008) with Chris Cuomo, and currently co-edits, with Ann Garry, the "Feminist Philosophy" category for PhilPapers. She serves on the editorial boards for Hypatia and the new Lexington Books Philosophy of Race series. Amandine Catala is an assistant professor of philosophy at the University of Quebec at Montreal. She received her Ph.D. in philosophy from the University of Colorado at Boulder. Prior to joining UQAM, she was a postdoctoral and visiting fellow at the London School of Economics, the Australian National University, and the University of Louvain. Her current research focuses on secession and territorial rights. Jane Duran is a lecturer in black studies and the Gevirtz Graduate School of Education at the University of California at Santa Barbara. She has also been a visiting fellow in the department of philosophy. She has a special interest in analytic epistemology and in the work of women philosophers, and some of her most recent books include Eight Women Philosophers (2005), Women, Philosophy, and necessary to overcome the oppressive tendencies that have attached to identity perceived as a category, and it relies on an initial experience of disidentification that reveals that one does not necessarily belong to a group that one has been assigned by others. Disidentification not only underlies an individual's process of developing a resistant identity, it also grounds identity politics, because solidarity exacts recognition of the power dynamics that exist between individuals before they can begin to critically evaluate and transform their identifications with others. Thus, disidentification and solidarity are brought together through needed dissent and conflict between individuals in connection so that shared interests and needs can be uncovered. For Weir, dissent and conflict, the risk of connection, are foundational for practices of engagement and openness that reveal division for the purposes of identify formation. This is one of the important reasons why she maintains the significance of home; home is prone to conflict, but home can also be the safe space in which individuals can struggle together in a practice of belonging, which is a practice of creating unity in identifications. Like the belonging of home, solidarity will never call for a resolution of struggle, but it will permit a continual transformation through that practice, so that continually renewed conceptions and understandings of "we" can emerge for the purpose of resistance. Weir utilizes the notion of world-traveling to demonstrate how struggle and conflict can open new mechanisms of meaning production and narrative in relations, and argues that the active relationality that obtains can and should drive reciprocal incorporation and amendments to identification with others and their commitments. Solidarity as belonging and a place of home, all in pursuit of freedom through identity, calls for individuals to expand themselves through learning about others with whom they are or desire to be connected. One of her most powerful claims is that these practices and processes are effective for solidarity because they cannot be engaged, differences and dissent cannot be addressed, without producing a change in the individual. Weir's analysis of the connection between identity and freedom appears subtle during a cursory read. Very few, if any, of her arguments would be regarded as opposed to or inconsistent with many mainstream feminist arguments. Even her controversial claim that solidarity can be achieved is carefully embedded in the arguments of activists and theorists of color in order to address the dangers of identity and sameness in usual understandings of identity politics. What Weir does that is unique is simply shift the conversation away from identity as it is typically conceived to a more dynamic but nuanced understanding of the notion qua practices that generates significant and original conclusions and implications. That is, her approach is cautious and subtle, but her argument has considerable impact on how feminists should regard and employ identity for the purpose of attaining liberation. But her most outstanding argument is her recognition and appreciation of conflict and dissent in belonging- risk in connection. Of all the dichotomies Weir addresses, one particular dichotomy is more implicit or is assumed. Typically, feminists theorize from an optimistic perspective APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 35 the APA committee on inclusiveness and the APA committee on the status of women, and chaired the APA committee on lectures, publications, and research. She is a former editor of the APA Newsletter on Feminism and Philosophy and is currently editor of Hypatia: A Journal of Feminist Philosophy. Devora Shapiro is assistant professor of philosophy at Southern Oregon University, where she also serves as affiliated faculty for gender, sexuality, and women's studies. She received her Ph.D. from the University of Minnesota, with a focus in feminist epistemology, philosophy of science, and modern philosophy. She recently published work on experiential knowledge and "objectivity," and is currently in progress on additional research in this vein. Shay Welch holds a Ph.D. in philosophy from Binghamton University. She is an assistant professor of philosophy at Spelman College. Previously, she was the Gaius Charles Bolin Fellow in Philosophy at Williams College, and was awarded the Future of Minority Studies Fellowship in publishing for her upcoming book, Existential Eroticism: A Feminist Ethics Approach to Women's Oppression Perpetuating Choices. She teaches courses on freedom, ethics, and feminism. Her recent publications include A Theory of Freedom: Feminism and the Social Contract (Palgrave-Macmillan 2012); "Social Freedom and the Values of Friendship," in Amity: Journal of Friendship Studies; "A Discursive General Will," in Constellations; and "Transparent Trust and Oppression," in the Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy. In addition to her current book project, Professor Welch is developing research on Native American philosophy, especially in relation to feminism. She has completed her first article, "Radicalcum-Relational: A Feminist Understanding of Native American Individual Autonomy," for publication and will be contributing a chapter on Native Feminism to the upcoming Routledge Companion to Feminist Philosophy. Her third book will be an analytic philosophical articulation of the ethical and political concepts within the Native framework. ANNOUNCEMENTS Two great conferences are being held together! Villanova Conference Center, Villanova University, May 28–30, 2015 HYPATIA: EXPLORING COLLABORATIVE CONTESTATIONS We are happy to announce the call for papers or panels for the 2015 Hypatia conference. This year's theme, Exploring Collaborative Contestations, aims to create a space for diverse perspectives, difficult conversations, and marginalized voices within feminist philosophy. We welcome papers and panel proposals on topics that address a commitment to diversity, broadly construed; an openness to disagreement among feminists on difficult issues; and opportunities for collaboration among feminist philosophers within and across various disciplines, subfields, and theoretical orientations. Submissions on any topic in feminist philosophy will be considered. The submission deadline for 250–500 word proposals for papers Literature (2007), and Women in Political Theory (2013). She has also published extensively in philosophy of science and feminist theory. Jessica Flanigan is an assistant professor of philosophy, politics, economics, and law and leadership studies at the University of Richmond, where she teaches ethics. Her work mainly addresses paternalism and public health policy. Flanigan has published articles in the Journal of Medical Ethics, Political Theory, Public Health Ethics, and HEC Forum. Sara Goering is associate professor of philosophy and member of the Program on Values in Society at the University of Washington, Seattle. Her research interests are at the intersections of feminist philosophy, disability studies, and bioethics. Recently, she is working with a neural engineering center on ethics engagement, and exploring how neural prosthetics may affect identity and responsibility. She also spends time discussing philosophy with children in the Seattle public schools through her role as the program director for the UW Center for Philosophy for Children. Crista Lebens is professor of philosophy in the department of philosophy and religious studies at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater, where she is an affiliated member of the women's and gender studies department. Her teaching, research, and activist interests include feminist social ontology and resistance to multiple, enmeshed oppressions. Rita Manning is a professor of philosophy at San José State University. She is the author of Speaking From the Heart: A Feminist Perspective on Ethics (Rowman & Littlefield), Guide to Practical Ethics: Living and Leading with Integrity (coauthored by Scott Stroud, Westview Press) and Social Justice in a Diverse Society (co-edited with René Trujillo, Mayfield Press). She has published articles and book chapters in the fields of moral philosophy, applied ethics (business ethics, health care ethics, and environmental ethics), philosophy of law, social and political philosophy, feminism, and critical thinking. Her most recent works are "Immigration Detention and the Right to Health Care," in Global Bioethics and Human Rights: Contemporary Issues (Wanda Teays et al., eds., Rowman & Littlefield), and "Punishing the Innocent: Children of Incarcerated and Detained Parents" (Criminal Justice Ethics). Kate Parsons is associate professor and chair of the philosophy department at Webster University in Saint Louis. She teaches courses in several interdisciplinary programs, including women and gender studies, sustainability studies, the Center for Ethics, and the Institute for Human Rights and Humanitarian Studies. Sally J. Scholz is professor of philosophy at Villanova University. Her research is in social and political philosophy and feminist theory. She is the author of On de Beauvoir (2000), On Rousseau (2001), Political Solidarity (2008), and Feminism: A Beginner's Guide (2010). Scholz has also published articles on violence against women, oppression, and just war theory, among other topics. She has served on APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 36 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 • Ideal worker/philosopher • Creating and using demographic data • Collaborating with social scientists • The consequences of sexual, gender, racial, disability, and sexuality harassment • Implications for survivors • Implications for departments/communities in which there is harassment • Implications for the discipline • Bystander training (empowering community members to create an environment that doesn't tolerate harassment) • Analyses of cronyism and alienation for women and members of other marginalized groups • Intersectionality • Structural intersectionality in the academy • Putting intersectional analysis to work in the profession • Political intersectionality transforming the discipline • Embracing the range of philosophical careers • Academic philosophers outside four-year colleges and universities) • Philosophers in other disciplines Additional features of the 2015 Hypatia conference: • Professional workshops on publishing feminist philosophy in journals, anthologies, books, blogs, and more hosted by the Hypatia local board • The APA Diversity Summit, May 29, 2015, during the conference • Workshop on sexual harassment and bystander training • APA/CSW Site Visit training: May 31 at Villanova • Modest travel grants available for presenters in need Presenters are encouraged to submit papers to Hypatia: A Journal of Feminist Philosophy after the conference. The Hypatia editorial office is committed to rapid review for all papers affiliated with the conference. or panels is January 1, 2015. Submissions must be made through the online submission form on the conference website. Suggested topics include the following: • Exploring intersectionality: race, ethnicity, sexuality, gender, social class, disability • Engaging disability studies within philosophy: ethics, politics, epistemology, metaphysics • Exploring new connections with philosophies of race and ethnicity • Theorizing LGBTQ coalitions among philosophers and within philosophy • Working through and across borders of disciplines: interdisciplinarity, transdisciplinarity, and multidisciplinarity • Building on constructive disagreements within feminist philosophy • Exploring new connections for feminist theorizing: activism, youth movements, transnational alliances • Challenging philosophical subfields • Occupying: resistance and repercussions in the profession APA/CSW: DIVERSITY IN PHILOSOPHY The APA/CSW conference seeks to examine and address the underrepresentation of women and other marginalized groups in philosophy. Participants are invited to focus on hurdles and best practices associated with the inclusion of underrepresented groups. The submission deadline for 250–500 word proposals is January 1, 2015. Submissions must be made through the online submission form. Suggested topics include: • Subverting canons, old and new • Undergraduate pedagogy • Graduate pedagogy • Continuing education for established philosophers • Critical thinking, epistemic diversity, and relativism • Ethical and epistemic benefits to creating diverse philosophical communities • Theoretical and quantitative empirical approaches to inclusion and exclusion • Stereotype threat • Implicit bias APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 37 team has worked hard to expand the index's coverage to additional languages and include older material as part of the index, some gaps remain. The incorporation of PRI is expected to make PhilPapers much more complete. It will without doubt be the most complete index of philosophical research available. The joint database will also incorporate thesaurus data that belong to PDC. There will be no change to PhilPapers' access policies. The service will continue to be available on the model where non-institutional use is free and only institutions located in high-GDP countries and that offer degrees in philosophy are asked to subscribe. Institutional users will benefit from this agreement by leveraging existing accounts with PDC to manage PhilPapers subscriptions. Additionally, an optional bundle of PhilPapers and other services provided by PDC will be offered. We are also pleased to announce important upgrades to PhilPapers. Our search system has been upgraded to improve the relevance of search results returned. OpenURL/ SFX linking, which enables users to access resources through their institutional libraries, has been improved to be more readily available for users affiliated with subscribing institutions. More upgrades are coming soon. THE ASSOCIATION FOR FEMINIST ETHICS AND SOCIAL THEORY (FEAST) FEAST invites submissions for the fall 2015 conference. Contested Terrains: Women of Color, Feminisms, and Geopolitics October 1–4, 2015 Sheraton Sand Key Resort, Clearwater Beach, Florida Submission deadline: February 27, 2015 Keynote speakers: Kimberlé Crenshaw, distinguished professor of law at UCLA and Columbia and founder of the African-American Policy Forum. An international activist, Crenshaw is well known for her foundational scholarly work on intersectionality and critical race theory. Professor Crenshaw's publications include Critical Race Theory (edited by Crenshaw et al., 1995) and Words that Wound: Critical Race Theory, Assaultive Speech, and the First Amendment (with Matsuda et al., 1993). Her work on race and gender was influential in drafting the equality clause in the South African Constitution, and she helped facilitate the inclusion of gender in the U.N. World Conference on Racism Declaration. In the United States, she served as a member of the National Science Foundation's committee to research violence against women and assisted the legal team representing Anita Hill. Sunera Thobani, associate professor at the Institute for Gender, Race, Sexuality, and Social Justice at the University of British Columbia. A founding member of RACE (Researchers and Academics of Colour for Equity) and a past president of Canada's National Action Committee on Conference website: http://www1.villanova.edu/villanova/ artsci/hypatiaconference/ For accessibility planning in action, please contact the conference coordinator at editorialassistant@ hypatiaphilosophy.org. Sponsored by Hypatia, the APA Committee on the Status of Women, and the College of Arts and Sciences, Villanova University. PHILOSOPHICAL PROFILES Submitted by Jami Anderson Philosophical Profiles is a new series of interviews with distinguished and influential philosophers working on a range of issues of interdisciplinary interest, from political philosophy, the rights and status of children, bioethics, sex, and gender, the nature of free will, personhood, right through to the physical structure of the universe. Each philosopher discusses his or her particular area of focus and how he or she became interested in that area in a way that should be accessible to a general audience. The production of Philosophical Profiles is under the aegis of the Journal of Cognition and Neuroethics. THE PHILPAPERS FOUNDATION Submitted by David Bourget and David Chalmers, Directors, The PhilPapers Foundation The PhilPapers Foundation and the Philosophy Documentation Center will be joining forces to bring the best possible research index to the community of philosophers. The Philosophy Documentation Center (PDC) is a nonprofit organization dedicated to providing affordable access to essential resources in the humanities and social sciences. PDC supports scholarly work in many fields with customized publishing and membership services, digitization solutions, and secure hosting. PDC produces the Philosophy Research Index, a database of bibliographic information on articles, books, reviews, dissertations, and other documents in philosophy comprising over 1.3 million entries. The Philosophy Research Index is currently the largest research index in philosophy, with more entries than PhilPapers (1.1 million entries) and the Philosophers' Index (540,000 entries). The agreement between PDC and the PhilPapers Foundation has two main components. First, the Philosophy Research Index (PRI) database will be incorporated as part of PhilPapers. Second, PDC will become responsible for the management of PhilPapers subscriptions, lending to PhilPapers its extensive expertise with this type of operation. PhilPapers users can expect PhilPapers' index to grow significantly over the coming weeks as a result of the integration of PRI. PhilPapers has traditionally been focused on recent publications in English. In contrast, PRI has excellent coverage of older publications and very good coverage of non-English publications. While the PhilPapers APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY PAGE 38 FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 Topics to consider may include, but are not limited to the following: • Situated knowledges, including the racialized terrains of knowledge production • Intersectional theories of space and place • "Women of color," "third-world women," "women of the global South," "postcolonial women," and other descriptors as contested identifications • Tensions between white/U.S. feminism, women of color feminisms, third-world feminisms, and transnational feminisms • Women's agency and autonomy as contested feminist assumptions • Contested conceptions of home and homelands • The different social locations and embodied experiences of racism • Perspectives on trauma and violence, terrorism and conspiracy, security and danger • The geopolitics of mobility and immobility, including tourism, migration, detention, and deportation • Gatekeeping geographies, technologies of surveillance, and border patrols • The geopolitics of intimacy, including the racialized affective labor of mail order brides, transracially and transnationally adopted children and migrant domestic workers • Geopolitical analyses of neo-liberalism, global capitalism, and militarism, including their effects on women of color • Ecofeminisms and resource conflicts • Solidarity movements among diverse groups of women of color and white feminists Call for abstracts: Difficult conversations A signature event of FEAST conferences is a lunch-time "Difficult Conversation" that focuses on an important, challenging, and under-theorized topic related to feminist ethics or social theory. In keeping with this year's theme of Contested Terrains, this year our topic for the difficult conversation panel is Damage by Allies. This conversation hopes to provide an environment conducive to dialogue for and among women of color and white academics concerning the harm that can be done by well-meaning feminist allies who, despite possible commonalities of values, can sometimes undermine the viewpoints and work of women of color. We the status of Women, Thobani's research focuses on critical race, postcolonial and feminist theory, globalization, citizenship, migration, Muslim women, the War on Terror, and media. Professor Thobani is the author of Exalted Subjects: Studies in the Making of Race and Nation in Canada (University of Toronto Press, 2007) and numerous other works. As a public intellectual, Thobani is well known for her vocal opposition to Canadian support of the U.S.-led invasion into Afghanistan. Invited Sessions: • Invited panel honoring the work of María Lugones • Invited panel on U.S. wars/imperialism and the women within FEAST encourages submissions related to this year's theme. However, papers on all topics within the areas of feminist ethics and social theory are welcome. Description of this year's theme Engaging in feminist theory in the twenty-first century requires placing emphasis on the "where" of its production. Such an emphasis includes considering the situated perspectives and geopolitical locations out of which a given theory is produced. Another equally important part of contemporary engagement in feminist theory concerns appreciating the ways that theory travels and changes through the traveling. The notion of contested terrains is invoked to refer to the many junctures of perspective, location, and travel with which feminist theory must contend in an era of multinational reception. For example, it is at the juncture of perspective, location, and travel that one finds the often contested political identifier "women of color." The term is contested not only because there is no singular "woman of color" perspective and/or location but also because of the diversity of possible stories of travel in and out of "women of color" spaces. As Jacqui Alexander explains, one is not born but becomes a woman of color. That "becoming" is by no means a given and, for many, "woman of color" is not a personal identifier. The term is contested, and its meaning is continually recreated through the contesting. Feminism is practiced and theorized within contested terrains in a transnational world. Understanding the connections and disputes created by borders, castes, classes, and other boundaries is at the heart of geopolitics. Feminist geopolitical analyses concern the spaces, places, relations of power, and interchange among feminists in local, regional, and global contexts, paying careful attention to the locations out of which we theorize and practice feminism(s). This year's FEAST conference invites submissions that take up this notion of contested terrains in relation to women of color, feminism, and geopolitics. We welcome papers that take both theoretical and practical approaches to these issues and related issues in feminist ethics, epistemology, and political and social theory more broadly construed. APA NEWSLETTER | FEMINISM AND PHILOSOPHY FALL 2014 | VOLUME 14 | NUMBER 1 PAGE 39 Difficult conversations and other non-paper submissions (e.g., workshops, discussions, etc.) Please submit an abstract with a detailed description (500– 750 words). Please clearly indicate the type of submission (Difficult Conversation, workshop, roundtable discussion, etc.) both in the body of your e-mail and on the submission itself. For more information on FEAST, or to see programs from previous conferences, visit http://www.afeast.org. Questions about this conference or the submission process may be directed to the program chairs, Ranjoo Herr (rherr@ bentley.edu) and/or Shelley Park ([email protected]). This will be a terrific conference and we look forward to receiving your submissions! Please feel free to circulate this CFP to your friends and colleagues. Thanks in advance for helping us get the word out! Ranjoo Herr and Shelley Park for the 2015 FEAST Program Committee: Celia Bardwell-Jones Asha Bhandary Elora Chowdhury Natalie Cisneros Kristie Dotson Saba Fatima Nathifa Greene Ranjoo Herr Denise James Serene Khader Huey-Li Li Keya Maitra Lorraine Mayer Shelley Park Elena Ruiz Jennifer Lisa Vest hope that women of color will be able to bring to light both subtle and obvious experiences of damage done by allies and open a discussion about how this might be avoided or dealt with effectively in the future. We are soliciting abstracts (see below) that address, in both North American and transnational contexts: concrete experiences of the sorts of hardship that academics and activists of color experience at the hands of allies; wellintentioned but misplaced pedagogical and political strategies; strategies for being a better ally to marginalized peoples in academia and elsewhere; strategies for women of color to respond to misplaced attempts at solidarity; and effective transnational activism that does not undermine the agency of its intended beneficiaries. Submission guidelines Please send your submission, in one document (a Word file, please, so that abstracts can be posted), to [email protected] by February 27, 2015. In the body of the email message, please include your paper or panel title, name, institutional affiliation, e-mail address, surface mail address, and phone number. All submissions will be anonymously reviewed. Individual papers Please submit a completed paper of no more than 3,000 words, along with an abstract of 100–250 words, for anonymous review. Your document must include: paper title, abstract of 100–250 words, and your paper, with no identifying information. The word count (max. 3,000) should appear on the top of the first page of your paper. Panels Please clearly mark your submission as a panel submission both in the body of the e-mail and on the submission itself. Your submission should include the panel title and all three abstracts and papers in one document, along with word counts (no more than 3,000 for each paper).
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
© Symposion, 4, 1 (2017): 17-47 The Prometheus Challenge1 Arnold Cusmariu Abstract: Degas, Manet, Picasso, Dali and Lipchitz produced works of art exemplifying a seeming impossibility: Not only combining incompatible attributes but doing so consistently with aesthetic strictures Horace formulated in Ars Poetica. The article explains how these artists were able to do this, achieving what some critics have called 'a new art,' 'a miracle,' and 'a new metaphor.' The article also argues that the author achieved the same result in sculpture by means of philosophical analysis – probably a first in the history of art. Keywords: Brâncuşi, Dali, Degas, Horace, Lipchitz, Manet, Picasso. Tout ce qui est beau et noble est le résultat de la raison et du calcul. Charles Baudelaire The Prometheus Legend Prometheus was the Greek Titan who gave mankind fire he stole from Mount Olympus in defiance of Zeus, king of the Olympian gods. For this transgression, Prometheus was made to endure horrific punishment. He was chained to a mountain where a vulture would peck at his liver day after day. Because Prometheus was a demigod, the liver would heal overnight but the vulture would return the next day. This gruesome cycle continued for many years until Hercules killed the vulture and freed Prometheus.2 Brâncuşi Poses a Conundrum In the winter of 1985, about a year after I began making sculpture, I visited the Hirshhorn Museum in Washington, DC and saw Constantin Brâncuşi's masterpiece Prometheus (1911). 3 A simple and beautifully understated composition, it seemed to show Prometheus sleeping, perhaps trying to get 1 Owing to actual, possible or potential copyright restrictions, only links in footnotes are provided to internet sites where images of artworks under discussion are available; apologies for the inconvenience. The author owns all images shown in this article and hereby grants permission to this journal to publish them. 2 The Temple of Aphrodite in Geyon, Turkey has a stone relief showing Hercules freeing Prometheus. Image available at: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/134545107591714476/. Accessed May 4, 2017. Hercules wears a lion's skin, which is a reference to the first of his twelve labors, killing the lion of Nemea. 3 Image available at: https://www.artsy.net/artwork/constantin-brancusi-prometheus. Accessed May 4, 2017. Arnold Cusmariu 18 much-needed rest until the next day when he knew he'd be facing the same ordeal all over again.4 The work made a deep impression but it also raised questions I pondered on the way home and for days afterward. For example, where was the Prometheus that generations of mythology buffs (me included) had admired for his courage and defiance in the service of conscience? Why was that element missing from the Brâncuşi sculpture? Why were other elements of the legend missing? In a sense, nothing was missing. In telling a story, artists are entitled to choose whatever point they wish to get across – including not telling a story at all or telling one without a point. Rather, as a professional philosopher, I wanted to know whether there were purely logical reasons why other aspects of the Prometheus legend were not included in the Brâncuşi sculpture and by extension whether artists in general, explicitly or implicitly, had to abide by the same logical limitations. If they did, what were those limitations and could they be gotten around somehow? What would be the point of doing so? Two Types of Combinations The following pairs of legend elements are compatible with one another in the sense that they could occur simultaneously and thus could be represented in a work of art:  Prometheus holding a lighted torch.  Prometheus wondering what to do.  Prometheus chained to the rocks.  Prometheus looking skyward apprehensively.  Prometheus fighting off the vulture.  Prometheus grimacing in pain.  Prometheus free of his chains.  Prometheus looking relieved. On the other hand, the following pairs of legend elements are not compatible with one another because they could not occur simultaneously, so there does not seem to be a way of combining them into a work of art:  Prometheus sitting listening to Zeus.  Prometheus walking away from Zeus.  Prometheus chained to the rocks. 4 Brâncuşi has been my strongest influence by far, though my sense of form and structure comes from classical music, mainly Mozart and Beethoven. I like to think that I make music in stone. The Prometheus Challenge 19  Prometheus free of his chains.  Prometheus grimacing in pain.  Prometheus smiling triumphantly.  Prometheus asleep on the rocks.  Prometheus speaking with Hercules. Compatible Combinations in Art To get a clearer sense of the problem at hand, let us consider two well-known works of art depicting aspects of the Prometheus legend, one in sculpture and the other in painting. Nicolas-Sébastien Adam's elaborate marble carving Prometheus Bound (1757)5 exemplifies the following legend elements: 1. Prometheus chained to rocks. 2. Prometheus looking skyward. 3. Prometheus grimacing in pain. 4. The vulture pecking at Prometheus' liver. 5. The vulture's talons sunk into Prometheus' flesh. 6. Prometheus struggling to get away from the vulture. 7. Chains preventing Prometheus' escape. Logical difficulties would not stand in the way of combining any pairs of legend elements on this list; nor, indeed, all of them, which Adam evidently succeeded in doing. The same is true of the famous painting by Peter Paul Rubens, Prometheus Bound (1611-12),6 which exemplifies the same seven legend elements: 1. Prometheus chained to rocks. 2. Prometheus looking skyward. 3. Prometheus grimacing in pain. 4. The vulture pecking away at Prometheus' liver. 5. The vulture's talons sunk into Prometheus' flesh. 6. Prometheus struggling to get away from the vulture. 7. Chains preventing Prometheus' escape. Incompatible Combinations in Art Can incompatible pairs of legend elements be combined in a single work of art? To test this out, consider the following sculptures by Jacques Lipchitz on the Prometheus theme, a theme he considered a focal point of his sculpture (Lipchitz 1972, 136): 5 Image available at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Prometheus_Adam_Louvre_ MR1745.jpg. Accessed May 4, 2017. 6 Image available at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rubens_-_Prometheus_Bound. jpg. Accessed May 4, 2017. Arnold Cusmariu 20 1. First Study for 'Prometheus' (1931, cast 1960s),7 which shows Prometheus on his back apparently shackeled to the mountain, grimacing in excruciating pain. 2. Study for Prometheus Maquette No. 1 (1936),8 which shows Prometheus strangling the vulture with one hand while waving the other in a triumphant gesture. 3. Prometheus Strangling the Vulture (1936),9 which shows Prometheus standing over the vulture writhing on the ground as he strangles it. 4. Prometheus Strangling the Vulture II (1944/1953), which shows Prometheus strangling the vulture with one hand while the other holds its legs. Attributes of 1 are evidently incompatible with attributes of 2, 3 and 4. Even if such incompatibilities could be overcome, it is unclear that combining the attributes of 1 with those of 2, 3 or 4 would have aesthetic value. This is not any simpler to do in painting. Consider the following four artworks: 1. Prometheus Bringing Fire to Mankind (1817)10 by Heinrich von Füger, which shows Prometheus holding a lighted torch as he ponders what to do with it. Below him is a dark, seemingly lifeless figure representing mankind. 2. Prometheus Bound (2012) 11 by Howard David Johnson, which shows Prometheus chained to the mountain, staring helplessly at the approaching vulture. 3. Prometheus Bound by Peter Paul Rubens. 4. Prometheus (1865)12 by Carl Rahl, which shows Prometheus chained to the mountain looking down at the vulture sprawled on the ground, evidently dead. Once again, attributes of 1 are evidently incompatible with attributes of 2, 3 and 4. Even if such incompatibilities could be overcome, it is unclear that combining the attributes of 1 with those of 2, 3 or 4 would have aesthetic value. The Prometheus Challenge: Preliminary Statement These considerations lead to a preliminary statement of the Prometheus Challenge:  Create a work of art that combines incompatible attributes.13 7 Image available at: http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/lipchitz-first-study-for-promethe us-t03517. Accessed May 4, 2017. 8 Image available at: http://adlerconkrightarts.com/work/lipchitz. Accessed May 4, 2017. 9 Image available at: http://www.artnet.com/artists/jacques-lipchitz/prometheus-stranglingthe-vulture-j5vmteK_Z26Rqb7uyPjK9w2. Accessed May 4, 2017. 10 Image available at: http://www.wikigallery.org/wiki/painting_221078/Friedrich-HeinrichFuger/Prometheus-Bringing-Fire-to-Mankind. Accessed May 4, 2017. 11 Image available at: http://www.howarddavidjohnson.com/Z121.htm. Accessed May 4, 2017. 12 Image available at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Carl_Rahl_Prometheus.jpg. Accessed May 4, 2017. The Prometheus Challenge 21 The Challenge Met: Hieronymus Bosch (1450-1516) Widely collected and copied in his day, Bosch is famous for his fantastic images, especially his macabre and nightmarish depictions of hell. The Last Judgment (c. 1495-1505)14 contains many images that combine incompatible attributes and thus meet the Prometheus Challenge. For example, we are shown a bird's head attached to human body; a human head attached to a pair of walking feet; a rat's head attached to a human body; and so on. Similar imagery can be found in The Garden of Earthly Delights (c. 1495-1505). The Challenge Redefined: Horace (65 BC – 8 BC) There is no need for me to argue that the artworks of Bosch and his modern followers in the Surrealist movement15 represent an aesthetically unsatisfying solution to the Prometheus Challenge as stated above. Instead, I will reformulate the problem by adding conditions that the lyric poet Horace enunciated in The Art of Poetry (Horace 1904 [19 BC], 433-4). I will not try to decide here whether artworks that meet Horace's conditions are aesthetically preferable to those that do not, which is a topic for another time. Horace comes to the point right away with typical clarity and succinctness: Suppose a painter to a human head Should join a horse's neck, and wildly spread The various plumage of the feather'd kind O'er limbs of different beasts, absurdly join'd; Or if he gave to view a beauteous maid 5 Above the waist with every charm array'd, Should a foul fish her lower parts infold, Would you not laugh such pictures to behold? Such is the book, that like a sick man's dreams, Varies all shapes, and mixes all extremes. 10 'Painters and poets our indulgence claim, Their daring equal, and their art the same.' I own th' indulgence-such I give and take; But not thro' Nature's sacred rules to break, Monstrous to mix the cruel and the kind, 15 Serpents with birds, and lambs with tigers join'd. 13 The term 'attribute' is being used generically here to cover properties – what are true or said of something – as well as scenarios, events, elements, features and interpretations. For my work on the metaphysics of properties as applied to aesthetics, see Cusmariu 2016. 14 Image available at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Last_judgement_Bosch.jpg. Accessed May 4, 2017. 15 The fact that Bosch was the first Surrealist is not always acknowledged. Salvador Dali, Max Ernst, Andre Breton, Yves Tanguy, and René Magritte are considered the major figures of modern Surrealism. Arnold Cusmariu 22 The Prometheus Challenge: The Definitive Formulation  Create a work of art that combines incompatible attributes in a way that is consistent with Horace's contention that art should not depict 'a sick man's dreams' or a 'monstrous mix of the cruel and the kind.'16 This is not the place for a defense of Horace. Bosch and modern Surrealists are evidently not consistent with his aesthetic.17 Meeting the Challenge: Six Solution Categories Philosophical analysis identified six categories of solutions to the Prometheus Challenge in its definitive form. Works of art by the following artists can be interpreted as having met the challenge in various ways analyzed below:  Painting: Edgar Degas, Édouard Manet, Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dali.  Sculpture: Pablo Picasso, Jacques Lipchitz, Arnold Cusmariu.18 An important caveat: I am not suggesting that Degas, Manet, Picasso, Dali and Lipchitz were aware of what I have described as the Prometheus Challenge, let alone that they set out to meet it. To be sure, they had a working aesthetic they could have articulated if they wished – Delacroix, van Gogh and Cezanne did. However, making art based on philosophical analysis of the kind described in this article is another matter entirely. As to conceptual influences on my own work, those were philosophical in the technical senses explained and illustrated below. I learned that other artists could be interpreted as contributors to the problem I was trying to solve only after I had already done so and began work on this article. Category 1: Mirror Imaging – Degas, Manet, Picasso An artwork depicts a reflection in a plane mirror in a way that is incompatible with the way the mirrored object normally looks. Such depiction is incompatible also with the concept of mirroring itself, which only allows left-right inversion. Incompatible interpretations are suggested or encouraged as well, prompting viewers to wonder which image corresponds to reality.19 16 Horace seems to be taking issue with Aristotle's views in the Poetics assigning value to art as a means to purification and purgation of powerful emotions such as pity and fear. 17 André Breton famously stated (1969, 14, original italics): "I believe in the future resolution of these two states, dream and reality, which are seemingly so contradictory, into a kind of absolute reality, a surreality, if one may so speak." Surrealism plays into the hands of skeptical arguments made famous by Descartes denying the possibility of knowing the difference between dreaming and reality. As a professional philosopher aware of these arguments, it would not have occurred to me to make art seeking the 'resolution' Breton mentions. 18 I achieved this result through philosophical analysis. See Cusmariu 2009, for which I have notes dating back at least six years earlier, and Cusmariu 2015. 19 I have not found Degas, Manet, and Picasso pictures that used mirror imaging to combine incompatible attributes other than those analyzed below. The Prometheus Challenge 23 Category 2: Image Overlapping – Picasso Two physical objects cannot be in the same place at the same time, while images of objects superimposed over one another obscure details. Picasso seems to be the first (only?) painter who succeeded in getting around these limitations, managing to suggest incompatible interpretations as a result. To get a clearer sense of Picasso's achievement, let us note the technical difficulties involved in applying this solution in painting. Thus, imagine a version of van Dyck's famous portrait of King Charles I (1635) done using Picasso's overlapping method, which van Dyck would never have dared even considering doing. A modern painter might have considered it but pulling it off is another matter entirely, e.g., Francis Bacon's Three Studies of Lucian Freud (1969). Note also that Duchamp's Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2 (1912), which applies stop-action photography to painting, would not work using Picasso's method either. All three pictures would be a jumbled mess. Category 3: Seeing-As Vision – Picasso, Dali, Lipchitz, Cusmariu Ordinarily, we see that an object has a certain property such as shape, color, and size. Sometimes, we see an object as having various properties. Thus, we may see a cloud as a sheep, or a mountain outcropping as a human head, e.g., The Old Man of the Mountain in New Hampshire. Incompatible images are combined in a work of art when its aesthetic content can only be captured by seeing A as the B of C and as the D of E, where B and D are incompatible and C and E are distinct objects. In cases where C and E belong to different categories, seeing-as vision allows movement from one category to another.20 Category 4: Directional Vision – Picasso, Cusmariu Directional vision is applied when reading text.21 Thus, we read from left to right in English, French and German and from right to left in Hebrew and Arabic. Chinese and Japanese require vertical vision as do some hotel neon signs. A work can combine incompatible attributes by means of directional vision by suggesting one interpretation if the work is seen in one direction and an incompatible interpretation if the work is seen in another direction. Directional vision effectively turns a single work of art into two. Picasso used this method in painting by requiring the viewer to rotate the angle of vision clockwise a few 20 'Seeing A as B' may well be analyzable in terms of 'Seeing that A resembles a B.' We can leave the concept of seeing-as vision in intuitive form for the time being. 21 Directional vision is also assumed in mathematical notation. For example, 236 + 75 = 986 is false if read from left to right but true if read from right to left. Criss-crosswords require entering words diagonally downward from left to right and from right to left. Arnold Cusmariu 24 degrees. He did not use it in sculpture, however. I applied directional vision along the x-axis, from left to right and from right to left.22 Category 5: Discontinuous Attributes – Cusmariu I began experimenting with philosophical concepts to find solutions to the Prometheus Challenge in 2000, the year after I began carving stone. I did not realize at the time, however, that the solutions I would discover would represent a paradigm shift away from assumptions sculptors had taken for granted for a very long time.23 For example, the goal in sculpture has always been to create physical objects with aesthetic attributes. This raises a fundamental question: What is a physical object? Phenomenalism, a philosophical theory due to Bishop Berkeley (16851753), answers by identifying physical objects with collections of actual and possible sense data. I did not assume that Phenomenalism was a philosophically correct theory, however, so it did not matter for my purposes that philosophers had raised objections against it on various grounds and felt no need to respond to these objections. I also did not assume that there were such things as sense data and thought I could bypass objections against them as well. Because Phenomenalism for me only had practical value, the issue was whether this view of physical objects could help solve the problem at hand.24 It could, and it did. Now, Phenomenalism entails two basic facts: (1) Sense data decompose the same physical object; (2) the ordering sequence of sense data is consistent with that object. Photos of ordinary physical objects taken a few degrees of arc apart – in effect, sense-data snapshots – will confirm these facts. The trick to applying Phenomenalism to the Prometheus Challenge is to recognize that neither assumption need be true of sculptures. Decomposition into collections of sense data of which (1) or (2) (or both) are not true would make clear just how different works of art were from ordinary physical objects. Category 5 sculptures require changing the viewing angle along the vertical or y-axis to fully capture aesthetic content, which can be very different from one view to the next. As will be shown later, such sculptures exemplify the following attributes: (a) There is a suggestion that more than one artwork is in view; (b) there is no easy inference from what is seen to what is not seen; (c) 22 The availability of other Category 3 or Category 4 sculptures is discussed at the end of this article. 23 For detailed discussion of these issues, see Cusmariu 2009 and Cusmariu 2015. 24 Phenomenalism is intended as a general theory about physical objects. If asked, Berkeley would readily have agreed that sculptures are not an exception to the theory even though they are not ordinary physical objects. That is, the fact that sculptures are physical objects with aesthetic properties does not entail that they are not collections of actual and possible sense data in the way that ordinary physical objects, which lack such properties, are collections of actual and possible sense data. The Prometheus Challenge 25 there is little or no compatibility from one view to the next; (d) different views may suggest (incompatible) association with different kinds of objects. The aesthetic content of a Category 5 sculpture can be captured by moving around it or by placing it on a slowly rotating carousel. The latter makes it evident that an artwork is dynamic and has the ontology of an event. Finally, a different concept of abstraction applies to Category 5 sculptures. Stated in Phenomenalist terms, the standard concept of abstraction abandons consistency with sense data associated with ordinary physical objects but retains consistency with their ordering sequence (Read 1964). The converse is true of Category 5 sculptures, which retain consistency with sense data associated with ordinary physical objects but abandon consistency with their ordering sequence.25 Category 6: Interweaving Forms – Cusmariu The protagonist of my script Light Becomes Her (2001)26 is a sculptor who declares: "I make music in stone." In 2002 I began work on Counterpoint, which became a series27 that sought to combine attributes by analogy with the parts of a musical score. This development occurred mainly because Phenomenalist decomposition of physical objects seemed to me unable to meet the Prometheus Challenge for multiple-figure sculptures – a difficult aesthetic problem in its own right. Concepts from philosophical sources proved once again invaluable. The first source was Plato's Theory of Forms, which was the topic of my Ph.D. dissertation at Brown University titled "A Platonist Theory of Properties." Specifically, I found very useful a famous comment in Plato's Sophist (Plato 1997, 235-293, 259 e5-6): "The weaving together of forms is what makes speech possible for us." I added to this beautiful metaphor the mereological view that complex physical objects are collections of parts, which I studied with Roderick M. Chisholm in his metaphysics seminar that led to a book (Chisholm 1976, Appendix B).28 Part-whole logic proved extremely fruitful, though again I made changes that suited my purpose. Thus, I borrowed seeing-as vision so that A could be seen as a part of B and of C, where B and C were distinct objects and A was not a part of B the way A was a part of C. I borrowed directional vision so that A could be a part of B in one direction and a part of C in a different direction, where B and C were distinct objects. I borrowed the discontinuous attributes concept so that part-whole relations could change, even radically, by changing viewing 25 The availability of other Category 5 or Category 6 sculptures is discussed at the end of this article. 26 This script is available at Francis Ford Coppola's website https://www.zoetrope.com/. 27 The ten sculptures completed so far are shown in the Appendix. Seven others are in various stages of completion. 28 For a critique of Phenomenalism, see Chisholm 1957, 189-197. Arnold Cusmariu 26 angle a few degrees of arc from a given angle. Mereology let me explore partwhole relations as I saw fit and led to another concept of abstraction: Sculptures could exemplify part-whole relations that ordinary physical objects could not. Category 1: Mirror Imaging Edgar Degas: Madame Jeantaud au miroir (1875)29 Degas and Jean-Baptiste Jeanteaud served together in the army in 1870 during the Franco-Prussian war. This portrait is of Jeantaud's wife Berthe-Marie. Degas challenges the viewer to ask unusual questions such as: who is the woman in the mirror; how is she related to Mme Jeantaud, if at all; which image shows Mme Jeantaud as she really looks; and do the two images show people existing contemporaneously. The images are not compatible with one another or with the concept of mirroring because mirror images are not normally blurred and here the mirror image seems to be looking at the viewer rather than at Mme Jeantaud as one would expect in a normal reflection. The woman in the mirror could be Mme Jeantaud's mother or it could be Mme Jeantaud as will look when she is her mother's age; or the picture may be a portrait of a woman at two stages of life; or the base image may be a flattering portrait of Mme Jeantaud – the sort that painters usually do on commission – and the mirror image is what she looks like, reversing the usual interpretation; and so on. Édouard Manet: A Bar at the Folies-Bergère (1882)30 Considered Manet's last major work (he died in 1883), this picture was exhibited at the Paris Salon in 1882 and has fascinated critics ever since. It is evident here as well that the two images are not compatible with one another or with the concept of mirroring. The composition also suggests a double portrait. For example, the plain image shows a dreamy-eyed, stylishly dressed young woman looking at the viewer, whereas the mirror image shows a barmaid paying close attention to the customer ordering drinks who resembles Manet. Moreover, the two images may not be contemporaneous. The base image suggests the young woman is facing the viewer or the people in the crowded bar, possibly before the customer arrived or after he left. The picture can also be interpreted as a double portrait of Manet himself. In the mirror we see him as a 29 Image available at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Edgar_Degas_-_Mrs_Jeantaud _in_the_Mirror_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg. Accessed May 4, 2017. 30 Image available at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Edouard_Manet,_A_Bar_at_ the_Folies-Bergère.jpg. Accessed May 4, 2017. The Prometheus Challenge 27 customer in a bar but, of course, there is also an unseen Manet painting the picture we are looking at.31 Pablo Picasso: Girl Before A Mirror (1932)32 Picasso began a relationship with Marie-Thérèse Walter when she was about seventeen and he was forty-seven. She became his mistress and eventually his muse. This picture is also a double portrait showing images inconsistent with one another as well as with the concept of mirroring. On left, we see MarieThérèse apparently pregnant, looking radiant – she became pregnant after this picture was made, giving birth to a girl in September 1935. The mirror image seems to show Marie-Thérèse red with embarrassment by being a mistress – Picasso was married at the time to the Russian ballerina Olga Khokhlova – while the base image shows her the way Picasso saw her, cheerful and happy. Category 2: Image Overlapping Pablo Picasso: Bust of a Young Woman (1926)33 Marie-Thérèse Walter is the subject of this picture as well. The incompatibility here is with the fact that two objects cannot be in the same place at the same time and that in real life objects cannot share body parts, as they evidently do here. Picasso uses a 'see-through' method to overcome these limitations. The dark image may be Picasso himself. He seems to be trying to kiss Marie-Thérèse. Her lips are closed shut, perhaps suggesting disinterest. They share facial features such as an eye and parts of a nose. Her right shoulder blends into his upper back. The Picasso image is on top, suggesting he was the dominant partner, which is probably accurate. Half her face is in shadow, suggesting she felt stifled by the relationship, which is probably accurate as well. Pablo Picasso: The Dream (1932)34 This is another double portrait of Marie-Thérèse and Picasso. The overlap is so extensive here that the viewer cannot easily tell where one figure ends and the 31 Manet may have been inspired here by a similar device in Las Meninas (1656), though, unlike Manet's, Velazquez's picture corresponds to reality in that it shows him painting the picture we are looking at. This masterpiece cannot, accordingly, be considered a solution to the Prometheus Paradox. Note also that the mirror images of Philip IV and his wife, Mariana of Austria, are accurate. Indeed, it could not have been otherwise. 32 Image available at: http://www.pablopicasso.org/girl-before-mirror.jsp. Accessed May 4, 2017. 33 Image available at: https://www.wikiart.org/en/pablo-picasso/buste-of-young-womanmarie-therese-walter-1926. Accessed May 4, 2017. 34 Image available at: http://www.pablo-ruiz-picasso.net/work-3941.php. Accessed May 4, 2017. Arnold Cusmariu 28 other figure begins, as Picasso no doubt intended. The picture reflects the physical and emotional bonding between the people in a relationship. It was painted five years into their relationship. Psychologists would have a field day with some of the details, which border on the erotic. Picasso is shown in profile sleeping with his head tilted back and face turned upward. Marie-Thérèse is asleep in a chair, her head leaning on her right shoulder. The two figures share features such as noses, cheeks, chins, and a right shoulder. Walter's right eye doubles as Picasso's right eye. Her right arm doubles as his right arm. Quite possibly they are dreaming about each other. Pablo Picasso: Dora Maar Seated (1937)35 Picasso met the French poet and photographer Dora Maar in 1935. She became his mistress as well as his muse. They were together for about nine years. The picture combines two views of the same person superimposed over one another a few degrees of arc apart, contradicting the normal expectation that two persons are present. One view shows the subject in profile facing the blue wall with horizontal stripes, looking inward and turning away from inquiring glances. The other view, rotated slightly clockwise, is a more detailed image that shows the subject in a cheerful mood. Her flushed right cheek can also be seen as an apple, inside of which a small lemon can be seen, suggesting a sweet-sour aspect of the subject's personality. The small leaf attached to the apple's stem doubles as the subject's eyelid. The figures share a chin and lips. Pupils and hair are of different color and further contrast the two views. The rest of the subject's body and clothing seem most compatible with the cheerful view as suggested by the orientation of the hands, arms and shoulders, likewise the chair in which she sits. The cheerful Dora Maar seems the dominant personality in this picture, even though Picasso often represents her in tears and she herself produced several self-portraits titled La Femme qui pleure (Caws 2000). Pablo Picasso: Woman in a Yellow Hat (1961)36 Jacqueline Roque was Picasso's second wife. They met when she was 26 and he was 72, and married in 1961. The marriage lasted until Picasso's death in 1973, during which time he made over 400 portraits of her, more than any other woman in his life. Overlapping images suggests physical closeness but also the psychological clash of strong personalities. The hypnotic eyes and the shared arms and clothing (including the hat) encourage the impression of a single figure, though it 35 Image available at: http://www.pablo-ruiz-picasso.net/work-1651.php. Accessed May 4, 2017. 36 Image available at: http://www.pablo-ruiz-picasso.net/work-929.php. Accessed May 4, 2017. The Prometheus Challenge 29 is clear that there are two. The red streak out of a nostril appears to be blood, but whose nostril is not clear; it could be both. Category 3: Seeing-As Vision Salvador Dali: The Image Disappears (1938)37 This picture recalls Vermeer's Woman in Blue Reading a Letter (1663-1664), a painter Dali admired. Commentators have pointed out that the male figure may be Dali himself or the painter Velazquez.38 Seeing-as vision enables Dali to combine the following incompatible attributes:  The woman's head  the man's right eye  Her shoulder  the bridge of his nose  Her breast  his nostril  Her forearm, hand and letter  his mustache  Her skirt  his lower lip and goatee  His hair  a drapery  His shirt  a tablecloth Salvador Dali: Slave Market with the Disappearing Bust of Voltaire (1940)39 Seeing-as vision enables Dali to combine incompatible attributes in the images of Voltaire and of the two women.  The women's heads  Voltaire's eyes  The women's hair  Voltaire's eyebrows  The women's neckwear  Voltaire's cheeks and the bridge of his nose  The women's hands  Voltaire's chin  The women's dresses  Voltaire's neck  Voltaire's forehead and white hair  the open arch of a building Salvador Dali: Old Age, Adolescence, Infancy (The Three Ages) (1940)40 37 Image available at: https://www.salvador-dali.org/en/artwork/the-collection/140/theimage-disappears. Accessed May 4, 2017. 38 Seeing-as vision will be abbreviated by means of the double arrow symbol . Note that "A can be seen as B" implies and is implied by "B can be seen as A," so that  is a symmetric relation. 39 Image available at: http://archive.thedali.org/mwebcgi/mweb.exe?request=record;id=123; type=101. Accessed May 4, 2017. Arnold Cusmariu 30 In this highly complex composition, Dali uses seeing-as vision to combine incompatible attributes in all three components. Let us consider them in turn. Left Image  The old man's hair, forehead, eye, cheek, moustache and chin  features of a landscape. Center Image  A young man's eyes and eyebrows  a mountain range and grottos across the lake  The young man's nose  a woman's head  The young man's lips  the woman's back  The young man's beard  the woman's dress  The young man's forehead  the sky  The young man's cheeks  the lake.  The young man's hair  the arch outline. Right Image  The seated woman's head, back, left arm, belt, and dress  the eye, nose, cheek, nose, teeth, and jaw of the grinning female figure shown in outline.  The water and shore of the lake  the woman's chest. Pablo Picasso: Bull's Head (1942)41 Roland Penrose (1981, 345) described this sculpture as follows: Picasso's ingenuity, combined with his sense of the right time and the right place, worked together to bring to life from the humblest sources a new kind of sculpture, in fact, a new art. He gave life with a magic touch where life, to casual observers, was apparently absent; and with bewildering assurance, he succeeded at a time when such a miracle was most precious to all. Here is Eric Gibson on the subject:42 [The sculpture] is a moment of wit and whimsy ... both childlike and highly sophisticated in its simplicity, it stands as an assertion of the transforming power of the human imagination at a time when human values were under siege. 40 Image available at: http://archive.thedali.org/mwebcgi/mweb.exe?request=record;id=120; type=101. Accessed May 4, 2017. 41 Image available at: https://www.moma.org/explore/multimedia/audios/408/7284. Accessed May 4, 2017. 42 Quoted at: http://www.pablopicasso.org. Accessed May 4, 2017. The Prometheus Challenge 31 Finally, this is how Picasso described Bull's Head to photographer George Brassaï: Guess how I made the bull's head? One day, in a pile of objects all jumbled up together, I found an old bicycle seat right next to a rusty set of handlebars. In a flash, they joined together in my head. The idea of the Bull's Head came to me before I had a chance to think. All I did was weld them together. The marvelous thing about bronze is that it can give the most heterogeneous objects such unity that it's sometimes difficult to identify the elements that compose it. But that's also a danger: if you were only to see the bull's head and not the bicycle seat and handlebars that form it, the sculpture would lose some of its impact43 (Brassaï 1964, 61). Had Picasso said "si l'on ne voyayait plus comme [as] la tête de taureau et non comme [as] la selle de vélo ..." he could have been credited with awareness of seeing-as vision and of the need to literally see Bull's Head differently to detect the incompatible attributes combined in the sculpture. What a pity! Pablo Picasso: Baboon and Young (1951) E.H. Gombrich explicitly used seeing-as terminology to describe this sculpture: Picasso took a toy car, perhaps from the nursery of his children, and turned it into baboon's face. He could see the hood and windshield of the car as a face, and this fresh act of classification inspired him to put his find to the test. Here, as so often, the artist's discovery of an unexpected use for the car has a twofold effect on us. We follow him not only in seeing a particular car as a baboon's head but learn in the process a new way of articulating the world, a new metaphor, and when we are in the mood we may suddenly find the cars that block our way looking at us with that apish grin that is due to Picasso's classification (Gombrich 1960, 104, my italics). Here are the incompatible pairs of attributes combined by means of seeing-as vision:  The baboon's ears  The car's rear wheels  The baboon's eyes  The car's windshield  The baboon's teeth  The car's front wheels  The baboon's nose  The car's hood  The baboon's nostrils  The car's headlights  The baboon's jaw  The car's front bumper Jacques Lipchitz: Mother and Child, II (1941-45)44 Here is the sculptor's own description: 43 I have checked the French original for accuracy. Italics at the end of the passage are mine. 44 Image available at: https://www.moma.org/collection/works/81522?locale=en. Accessed May 4, 2017. Arnold Cusmariu 32 In 1935 I was in Russia and one night, when it was dark and raining, I heard the sound of a pathetic song. I tried to trace it and came to a railroad station where there was a beggar woman, a cripple without legs, on a cart, who was singing, her hair all loose and her arms outstretched. I was terribly touched by this image, but I only realized years later, when I made the Mother and Child, that it was this image that had emerged from my subconscious. Although the sculpture is obviously much changed, the woman is without legs, and in the final version, without hands. The winglike projections at the side are the legs of the child that I added. For some curious reason, the child's projecting legs and the woman's breasts seem to form themselves into the head of a bull, something that gave a quality of aggressiveness to the sculpture. That, I think, indicates my feelings at this time, in the midst of the war (Lipchitz 1972, 148151). Lipchitz may have had seeing-as vision in mind because he uses the expression 'seem to form into.' Here are the incompatible pairs of attributes such vision is able to combine.  The woman's arms  The bull's horns  The woman's breasts  The bull's eyes  The woman's pelvis  The bull's nostrils  The child's legs  The bull's ears Arnold Cusmariu: Ariel (2001) We are at the circus, watching a trained seal balancing a ball atop a slender stick. Seeing-as vision connect spectator and performer in a new way. The Prometheus Challenge 33  The seal's balanced ball  The spectator's head  The seal's stick  The spectator's neck  The seal's head, neck and nose  The spectator's shoulder, torso and arm  The seal's back and legs  The spectator's back and legs Most viewers would naturally identify with the spectator. But, the piece asks, are there circumstances in our lives during which we are likely to act like a 'trained seal?' Thus, there is a disturbing undercurrent here belied by the childlike simplicity of the piece. Arnold Cusmariu: Swan Lake (2001) The sculpture is a simple way of expressing the idea of unity with the environment by making the lake part of the swan's body, which cannot literally be true.  The black angles-within-angles  the swan's plumage.  The black angles-within-angles  the wake as the swan glides across the lake. As we know, identification with nature has resulted in great poetry, e.g., by Keats, Wordsworth, and Whitman. Arnold Cusmariu 34 Category 4: Directional Vision Pablo Picasso: The Three Dancers (1925)45 Clement Greenberg writes: [T]he Three Dancers goes wrong, not jut because it is literary ... but because the theatrical placing and rendering of the head and arms of the center figure cause the upper third of the picture to wobble (Greenberg 1989, 62). The upper third of the picture does not 'wobble.' What Picasso was doing is actually quite clever. He figured out a new method of giving his composition aesthetic unity by having the middle figure look in both directions at once and in a way that reflects the moods of the two flanking figures. This method assumes directional vision, requiring the viewer to rotate the angle of vision clockwise from the position used to perceive one detail until another detail becomes apparent. Once this is done, it becomes possible to appreciate why The Three Dancers is a solution to the Prometheus Challenge. Note first that Picasso seems to realize that two figures are necessary to express incompatible moods, an exuberant figure on left and a somber one on right. The problem is how to combine such contradictory moods by means of a single figure and in a way that complements the other two. Picasso succeeds in doing this through directional vision: Looking at the head of the middle figure 'straight on' reveals the serious mood, while rotating the angle of vision clockwise reveals the grinning, happy mood. By this method Picasso also manages to have the middle figure look in two different directions at the same time. Shared facial features help to achieve these effects: the tiny mouth and elongated eye of the serious expression double as an eye and mouth of the happy one, respectively. Their noses are also shared, though they are drawn differently. Arnold Cusmariu: Prometheus (1986) As noted earlier, a Brâncuşi masterpiece based on the Prometheus legend sparked my interest in sculpture. Below is the version I produced, which answered questions posed by the Prometheus Challenge. Over time, this initial effort led to the discovery of the working aesthetic described in this article, aided by training in analytic philosophy. It would be more than a decade of exploration before I applied directional vision again, however. As other artists have discovered, it takes time to devise alternatives to traditions of long standing. 45 Image available at: http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/picasso-the-three-dancerst00729. Accessed May 4, 2017. The Prometheus Challenge 35 Prometheus is shown atop the mountain after he was freed by Hercules, reacting to his ordeal in two incompatible ways detectable only through directional vision. Seen from left to right, Prometheus stands triumphantly projecting confidence in the rightness of his cause. Seen from right to left, he recoils with rage at what he was forced to endure for defying a divine command. Viewers may wonder whether Prometheus would have acted the same way if he had to do it over again – a question that has no easy answer. Arnold Cusmariu 36 Arnold Cusmariu: Leda (2001) According to legend, Zeus came to Leda in the form of a swan seeking protection from a pursuing eagle. Their consummation resulted in a daughter later known as Helen of Troy, 'the face that launched a thousand ships' and the Trojan Wars. Seen from left to right, Leda appears as Zeus saw her as he approached her disguised as a swan. Seen from right to left, the result of their consummation is apparent: Leda is evidently pregnant. Seeing-as vision is necessary to capture the full aesthetic content. Thus, the breast-shaped volumes can be seen as part of Leda's hair in both directions. A comment is in order at this point about the geometry of so many of my bases. There is a good reason why that geometry is essentially textbook. My bases stand for the predictable elements of our world, which science tells us are expressible in mathematical terms. The superstructure, which is anything but predictable, is what art is about. How to balance the two is a basic problem in art, though the distinction seems to me critical. The Prometheus Challenge 37 Arnold Cusmariu: David (2001) My rendition of the biblical showdown between David and Goliath described in the Books of Samuel takes viewers to the field of battle. Seen from left to right, the figure looks unyielding, projecting confidence of victory despite the overwhelming odds. This is what Goliath saw as he faced David, who understood he must not show fear. Seen from right to left, a diametrically opposite impression emerges and suggests the dread that David and his compatriots must have felt if he failed. Seeing their champion dead, the Philistines took to flight and the Israelites followed in hot pursuit. Had David failed, the consequences would have been serious. Massive negative space is used to suggest that, while these consequences would have been serious, they would not have been fatal for the Israelites. Category 5: Discontinuous Attributes Arnold Cusmariu: Alar (2000)46 Alar suggests that more than one artwork is in view. It is also evident that: View 2 is not readily inferable from View 4; View 5, not seen from View 1, is not 46 The bronze version is in my entry to the 2002 World Trade Center Memorial Competition. Image available at: http://www.wtcsitememorial.org/ent/entI=446704.html. Accessed May 4, 2017. Arnold Cusmariu 38 inferable from it; View 5 is not compatible with other views; and it is not obvious that views are of the same wing. View 4 shows the influence of Brâncuşi's Bird in Space series, begun in 1923. Arnold Cusmariu: Peace (2000) The photos show incompatible views of a bird, a heart and two wings, the latter of which may or may not be views of the same wing; as in Alar, views are not easily inferable from one another; we cannot infer View 4 from View 1, even though on is the reverse side of the other; Views 3 and 4 are compatible only as The Prometheus Challenge 39 the kind of object they are, but not in specific shape; a bird suggested in View 1 is not consistent with a heart, suggested in View 2. Arnold Cusmariu: Eve (2001) The title is from the Bible. Readers should ask why the sculpture is mounted at one of the foci of an elliptical base. Shown these four photos side by side, several people concluded they were looking at more than one artwork, which is a typical response to a sculpture exemplifying discontinuous attributes made possible under Phenomenalism. View 1 is not inferable from View 3; there is no easy inference that Eve is pregnant as shown in View 2 from views not seen such as View 3; Views 1 and 3 are not compatible owing to significant differences in scale; surface configuration are not consistent in Views 1 and 3; View 1 shows standard carving technique while View 3 uses bas-relief; Views 1-4 show events in nonlinear fashion: View 1 shows what Adam saw that made him fall in love with Eve; View 2 shows Eve pregnant; and View 3 shows her holding an apple while contemplating the fateful decision whether to bite into it. The sculpture's position on the base appears to change foci in Views 1 and 3 and is not consistent with positions apparent in Views 2 and 4. Arnold Cusmariu 40 Category 6: Interweaving Forms Arnold Cusmariu: Counterpoint 1 (2002) View 1 is a side view of a traditional female torso. View 2 confirms this impression but also shows something inconsistent: a left shoulder that is not to scale compared to the right shoulder and that resembles a fetus in the womb, thus not belonging to the same figure. View 3 shows that the shoulder belongs to a second, much smaller female figure, whose long, braided hair was first seen in View 1. The final example of incompatibility is the hair itself, which can be seen as a standing female figure that is not apparent from previous views. Perceptual discontinuity is exemplified; normal vision as well as seeing-as vision is involved in capturing aesthetic content. Counterpoint 1-7 sculptures were all made in one year. Arnold Cusmariu: Counterpoint 2 (2002) The Prometheus Challenge 41 This composition was made only a month or so later and is considerably more complex. Male and female figures are discernible. The male figures are clearest in Views 2 and 3, though they are not the same, nor are the female figures shown. Mereology changes with the viewing angle as do the various relationships between the figures. Arnold Cusmariu: Counterpoint 5 (2002) Forms interwoven in this composition are larger and more space exists between the various elements. Directional vision is needed in the view at right. From right to left, the female figure faces inward, as if bound in the stone, arms in front and above her head. From left to right, the figure faces outward, arms up behind her head, as if seeking to escape the confines of the stone. More photos would reveal how other incompatible attributes are combined. Arnold Cusmariu: Counterpoint 8 (2003) Arnold Cusmariu 42 As many as five figures are interwoven in this composition and they are more tightly linked. Small differences in degree of arc reveal incompatible attributes not evident from previous perspectives. Consistency of scale, which is a near absolute requirement in traditional sculpture, has been completely abandoned. Arnold Cusmariu: Counterpoint 10 (2003) There are many more interconnected figures than is apparent from three photos. Seeing-as vision is required to absorb the elements present, identify incompatible attributes, and even count the number of figures. The viewer's memory is taxed extensively to link attributes evident as the viewer moves around the sculpture even as little as ten degrees of arc apart. Variations of scale add to the complexity of the composition. Other Category 3 or Category 4 Sculptures? Though he began making sculpture early in his career and continued to do so throughout his life (Spies 1971), we rightly associate Picasso primarily with painting; so it is no surprise that he applied new techniques such as cubism first to painting and then to sculpture. Unfortunately, by the time he made Bull's Head (1942) and Baboon and Young (1951), which applied for the first time a different kind of vision,47 his major contributions to painting were well behind him. I will not speculate why Picasso, unlike Dali, never exemplified seeing-as vision in painting. As to the sort of directional vision applied in The Three Dancers (1925), 47 Picasso exemplified seeing-as vision also in Goat's Skull and Bottle (1951), whose design repeats that of Bull's Head. Image available at: https://www.moma.org/collection/works/ 81268?locale=en. Accessed May 4, 2017. The Prometheus Challenge 43 which requires rotating the angle of vision, he never applied it again in painting or in sculpture, as far as I have been able to determine. Why not is also a matter of speculation I will avoid here. Seeing-as vision is necessary only for Lipchitz's Mother and Child, II (194145). His first sculpture with this theme is in cubist style, Mother and Child (1930).48 In 1949 he made Mother and Child, I,49 for which normal vision is sufficient as well. Though the list of 20th century sculptors contains many illustrious names – Archipenko, Brâncuşi, Calder, Duchamp-Villion, Epstein, Fabbri and Giacometti cover only the first seven letters of the alphabet – none of their artworks fit under Category 3 or Category 4. Other Category 5 or Category 6 Sculptures? As far as I have been able to determine, no one else has even considered applying technical philosophical theories from metaphysics or epistemology to sculpture. Category 5 conditions are conceptually difficult to meet and are likely to seem counterintuitive to many artists. For example, it has been assumed without question that a figurative sculpture of the human body must be consistent with its anatomy all the way around in a 360-degree circle. This is also true of abstract sculptures of the human body as well as the geometric sculptures of David Smith, which consist of steel volumes welded on top of one another. Consistency with the geometry of each volume is observable throughout; otherwise the volumes could not be identified as cubes, spheres, ellipsoids, cylinders, cones and tetrahedrons and Smith could not have used the title Cubi for his series of sculptures. Category 6 might seem more promising. For example, Picasso's Bull Head and Baboon and Young and Lipchitz's Mother and Child, II might seem to qualify as Category 6 solutions in addition to Category 3. This is not the case. Picasso followed the anatomy of a bull's head in attaching the handlebars to the bicycle seat to create Bull's Head. Indeed, any other configuration would have prevented the viewer from seeing the composition as a bull's head! The anatomy of a baboon's head is replicated accurately as well, as are the automobile parts that can be seen as its head. The same is true of Lipchitz's composition. The anatomical details of a bull's head are just where they should be and the scale of each detail is equally accurate. Lipchitz's four Prometheus sculptures, shown earlier, follow the mereology of the human body despite (slight) inconsistency of scale. The same is true, for example, of Henry Moore's many reclining figures. Though some of them make extensive use of negative space and as such come close to being scattered 48 Image available at: https://www.wikiart.org/en/jacques-lipchitz/mother-and-child-1930. Accessed May 4, 2017. 49 Image available at: http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/lipchitz-mother-and-child-i-t035 30. Accessed May 4, 2017. Arnold Cusmariu 44 objects, nevertheless it is easy to see that they accurately represent human mereology. Cubism is not an exception either. Despite its abstract rendering of human anatomy – abstract in the usual sense – mereology is preserved. Otherwise Lipchitz could not have used such titles as Reclining Nude with Guitar (1928), where the mereology of guitars is also accurate; nor could fellow Cubist Alexander Archipenko have used the title Woman Combing Her Hair (1914). Many other examples could be cited of which the same is true. What Will the Critics Think? Critics seem not to have noticed the conceptual links between the Category 1 pictures by Degas, Manet and Picasso analyzed above. The conceptual links between the four Category 2 Picasso paintings likewise failed to register with critics. Evidently oblivious to the novel method Picasso used to express aesthetic content in The Dream, a New York Times art critic launched a rather vulgar attack on this artwork and its creator (Cotter 2008): As for "The Dream," it's not too good because it's so ordinary. Marie-Thérèse, with large, lumpish, standard-issue Picasso limbs, sits in a chair asleep, head to one side, one breast exposed, a smile on her lipstick-red lips. It's hard not to notice that her face is split down the middle and that one half, the top, has the shape of a phallus. So she's dreaming about her terrific older lover, and that's all that's on her mind, and that makes her smile? Please, Pablo, give us a break. This is an eroticism on the level of all those images of the artist as minotaur ravishing his models that you churned out by the thousands and that no one takes seriously any more, if anyone ever did. Penrose and Gibson failed to realize that seeing-as vision is a requirement for capturing the full aesthetic content of Bull's Head. They lavished (welldeserved) praise on Picasso for creating this sculpture, as did Gombrich on Baboon and Young. All three, however, failed to note that Lipchitz had, in effect, created the same solution to the Prometheus Challenge contemporaneously with the two Picasso sculptures in Mother and Child, II, which depicts the horrors of war every bit as effectively as Picasso's Guernica. It has been noticed that Dali's The Image Disappears is a double image but not that special vision is required to capture the full aesthetic content of this and other pictures50 where Dali applied the same method.51 50 Here are three other Dali picture that require seeing-as vision: Paranoiac Village (1931). Image available at: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/114701121729922272/. Mae West's Face which May be Used as a Surrealist Apartment, 1934-1935. Image available at: https://www.artsy.net/artwork/salvador-dali-mae-wests-face-which-may-be-used-as-a-surre alist-apartment. Apparition of a Face and Fruit Dish on a Beach (1938). Image available at: http://www.dalipaintings.com/apparition-of-face-and-fruit-dish-on-a-beach.jsp. All images accessed May 4, 2017. The Prometheus Challenge 45 As noted above, Clement Greenberg missed the role of directional vision in The Three Dancers. Lawrence Gowing and Ronald Alley also missed it and came to wrong-headed conclusions as a result. Gowing (1966, 10) opined that the picture "is like a Crucifixion" while Alley (1986, 22) contended that the middle figure "is associated with [Picasso's friend Carlos] Casagemas" who committed suicide. My analysis of the picture as a Category 4 solution to the Prometheus Challenge gives Picasso the credit he deserves. It remains to be seen what critics will make of my Category 5 and 6 sculptures, which are conceptually far more radical than the artworks in the other four categories, including my own. I am hoping this article will help. A Category 7 may be waiting to be discovered, so I better get back to work. References Alley, Ronald. 1986. Picasso: The Three Dancers. London: The Tate Gallery. Brassaï, George. 1964. Conversations with Picasso, trans. Jane Marie Todd. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Breton, André. 1969. Manifestoes of Surrealism, trans. Richard Seaver and Helen R. Lane. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. Caws, Mary Ann. 2000. Picasso's Weeping Woman: The Life and Art of Dora Maar. Boston: Little, Brown, and Company. 51 On the subject of visual illusions, the reader may find of interest Luckiesh 1965 and Seckel 2004. Arnold Cusmariu 46 Chisholm, Roderick M. 1976. Person and Object: A Metaphysical Study. Chicago: Open Court. ---. 1957. Perceiving: A Philosophical Study. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Cotter, Holland. 2008, October 23. "Picasso in Lust and Ambition." The New York Times. Cusmariu, Arnold. 2009. "The Structure of an Aesthetic Revolution." Journal of Visual Arts Practice 8(3): 163-179. ---. 2015. "Baudelaire's Critique of Sculpture." Journal of Aesthetic Education 49(3): 96-124. ---. 2016. "Toward an Epistemology of Art." Symposion. Theoretical and Applied Inquiries in Philosophy and Social Sciences 3(1): 37-64. Gombrich, E.H. 1960. Art and Illusion. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Gowing, Lawrence. 1966. "The Director's Report." The Tate Gallery Report 196465: 7-12. Greenberg, Clement. 1989. Art and Culture: Critical Essays. Boston: Beacon Press. Horace. 1807 (19BC). The Odes, Epodes, Satires, and Epistles, trans. Philip Francis. London: J. Walker. Lipchitz, Jacques. 1972. My Life in Sculpture. New York: The Viking Press. Luckiesh, Matthew. 1965 (1922). Visual Illusions. New York: Dover Publications. Penrose, Roland. 1981. Picasso: His Life and Work. Los Angeles: University of California Press: 345. Plato. 1997. Sophist, trans. Nicholas P. White. In Plato: Complete Works, edited by John M. Cooper. Indianapolis: Hackett. Read, Herbert. 1964. Modern Sculpture: A Concise History. London: Thames and Hudson. Seckel, Al. 2004. Masters of Deception: Escher, Dali & the Artists of Optical Illusion. New York: Sterling Publishing. Spies, Werner. 1971. Sculpture by Picasso, trans. J.M. Brownjohn. London: Thames and Hudson. The Prometheus Challenge 47 Appendix: Ten Counterpoint Sculptures, 2002-
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies Nicolae Sfetcu April 23, 2019 Sfetcu, Nicolae, "Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies", SetThings (April 23, 2019), MultiMedia Publishing (ed.), DOI: 10.13140/RG.2.2.24510.33602, ISBN: 978-606-033222-0, URL = https://www.setthings.com/en/e-books/philosophy-of-blockchain-technologyontologies/ Email: [email protected] This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/. A translation of: Sfetcu, Nicolae, " Filosofie tehnologiei blockchain Ontologii", SetThings (1 februarie 2019), MultiMedia Publishing (ed.), DOI: 10.13140/RG.2.2.25492.35204, ISBN 978-606-033-154-4, URL = https://www.setthings.com/ro/e-books/filosofia-tehnologiei-blockchain-ontologii/ Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 2 Abstract In this paper I argue the necessity and usefulness of developing a philosophy specific to the blockchain technology, emphasizing on the ontological aspects. After an Introduction that highlights the main philosophical directions for this emerging technology, in Blockchain Technology I explain the way the blockchain works, discussing ontological development directions of this technology in Designing and Modeling. The next section is dedicated to the main application of blockchain technology, Bitcoin, with the social implications of this cryptocurrency. There follows a section of Philosophy in which I identify the blockchain technology with the concept of heterotopia developed by Michel Foucault and I interpret it in the light of the notational technology developed by Nelson Goodman as a notational system. In the Ontology section, I present two developmental paths that I consider important: Narrative Ontology, based on the idea of order and structure of history transmitted through Paul Ricoeur's narrative history, and the Enterprise Ontology system based on concepts and models of an enterprise, specific to the semantic web, and which I consider to be the most well developed and which will probably become the formal ontological system, at least in terms of the economic and legal aspects of blockchain technology. In Conclusions I am talking about the future directions of developing the blockchain technology philosophy in general as an explanatory and robust theory from a phenomenologically consistent point of view, which allows testability and ontologies in particular, arguing for the need of a global adoption of an ontological system for develop cross-cutting solutions and to make this technology profitable. Keywords: philosophy, blockchain, blockchain technology, ontologies, bitcoin Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 3 Introduction The Internet has completely changed the world, people's culture and customs. After a first phase characterized by the free transfer of information, concerns have arisen about the security of online communications and the confidentiality of users. Blockchain technology (BT) ensures both these goals. BT, relatively new, has the chance to produce a new revolution, fully justifying a philosophical investigation. The first blockchain was conceptualized by Satoshi Nakamoto in 2008, using a method that excludes an authorized third party. (Narayanan et al. 2016) In 2009, Nakamoto developed Bitcoin, used as a public register for network transactions. (The Economist 2015) Starting with 2014, new technology applications (Nian and Chuen 2015) known as blockchain 2.0 have been developed for more sophisticated smart contracts that share documents or automatically send owners' dividends if profits reach a certain level. In Philosophical Engineering: Toward a Philosophy of the Web, Halpin and Monnin discussed some philosophical aspects of this emerging technology, (Halpin and Monnin 2014) such as the relationship between the physical world and the virtual world, the individual and society, the concepts of materiality, temporality, space and possibility. (Institute for Blockchain Studies 2016) We can ask ourselves, ontologically, what this technology is, how it can be characterized, how it is created, implemented and adopted, and how it works; definitions, classifications, possibilities and limitations. From an epistemological point of view, we are concerned about what knowledge can be gained through BT, how it is in relation to reality, what knowledge involves the use of technology, etc. We are also interested in how BT can be exploited, which aspects allow an assessment, what behavioral norms involve, aesthetic and moral aspects involved in the use of this technology. The philosophy of BT can be seen as a conceptual resource for understanding these developments in our modern world. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 4 (Swan and Filippi 2017) Conceptual metaphors can help us approach and understand new ideas. (Lakoff and Johnson 2003) Blockchain Technology Blockchain, (The Economist 2015) (D. Z. Morris 2016) (Popper 2017) initially called chain of blocks (Brito and Castillo 2016) (Trottier [2013] 2018) is a growing list of records called blocks, communicating with each other by cryptographic messages. (The Economist 2015) Each block contains a cryptographic hash of the previous block, (Narayanan et al. 2016) a time stamp and transaction data. By design, a blockchain is "an open, distributed ledger that can record transactions between two parties efficiently and in a verifiable and permanent way", (Iansiti and Lakhani 2017) usually managed by a peer-to-peer network adhering to a protocol for node communication and validation of new blocks. After recording, the data in each block it cannot be modified retrospectively without changing all subsequent blocks, which requires network consensus. Blockchain can be considered a secure design system, distributed, with high error tolerance. (Raval 2016) Block cryptography uses public keys. (Brito and Castillo 2016) Private keys allow owners to access their digital assets or the ability to interact within the blockchain. (The Economist 2015) Figure 1 Forming the block chain in the form of the Merkle tree. The main chain (B0 ... B8) consists of the longest series of blocks starting from the initial block (B0) to the current block (B8). All other blocks are orphan blocks that are outside the main chain Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 5 Each node in a system has a copy of the blockchain. (Raval 2016) There is no central "official" copy, and no "trustworthy" user more than any other. (Brito and Castillo 2016) Mining nodes validate transactions, (Tapscott and Tapscott 2016) adds them to the block they are building and then spreads the block to other nodes. (Bhaskar and Chuen 2015) Blockchain uses various timestamp schemes, such as proof-of-work, to serialize the changes. (Gervais, Karame, and Capkun 2015) Other emerging blockchain applications include e-government, such as Bitnation, (Allison 2015) initiatives for citizens involvement and new forms of democratic participation such as DCent (D-Cent 2015) and digital platforms for creating diverse decentralized applications, such as Ethereum platform. (Wood 2014) Blockchain technology is considered to have a particularly important contribution to the future transformation of organizations, democratic governance and human culture as a whole. (Tapscott, Tapscott, and Cummings 2017) According to statistics synthesized by the World Economic Forum, interest in the blockchain has expanded globally, (WEF Financial Services 2016) nearly 30 countries are currently investing in blockchain projects. There are three types of blockchains public (no access restriction), private (access based on invitation by network administrators, participants and validators are restricted), and consortium (semi-decentralized, with limited chain access) Design Ontology engineering, (Smith 2004) along with semantic Web technologies, allow the semantic development and modeling of the operational flow required for blockchain design. The semantic Web, in accordance with W3C, "provides a common framework that allows data to be shared and reused across application, enterprise, and community boundaries" (W3C 2013) and can Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 6 be seen as an integrator for various content, applications and information systems. Tim BernersLee had the first vision of data network power (Berners-Lee 2007) processed by machines: (Berners-Lee 2004) "I have a dream for the Web [in which computers] become capable of analyzing all the data on the Web – the content, links, and transactions between people and computers. A Semantic Web , which should make this possible, has yet to emerge, but when it does, the day-to-day mechanisms of trade, bureaucracy and our daily lives will be handled by machines talking to machines. The intelligent agents people have touted for ages will finally materialize." (Berners-Lee 2000) Metadata and semantic Web technologies have allowed the application of ontologies for the provenance of knowledge. Computational ontology research can be useful at the economic level (including for companies), socially, and for other researchers, contributing to the development of specific applications. (Kim and Laskowski 2016) Many researchers regard computational ontology as a kind of applied philosophy. (Tom Gruber 2008) In the paper "Toward Principles for the Design of Ontologies Used for Knowledge Sharing," Tom Gruber delivers a deliberate definition of ontology as a technical term in the field of informatics. (Thomas Gruber 1994) Gruber introduced the term as a specification of conceptualization: "An ontology is a description (like a formal specification of a program) of the concepts and relationships that can exist for an agent or a community of agents. This definition is consistent with the usage of ontology as set-of-concept-definitions, but more general. And it is certainly a different sense of the word than its use in philosophy." (Tom Gruber 1992) To distance ontologies from taxonomies, Gruber said: (Tom Gruber 1993) "Ontologies are often equated with taxonomic hierarchies of classes, but class definitions, and the subsumption relation, but ontologies need not be limited to these forms. Ontologies are also not limited to conservative definitions, that is, definitions in the traditional logic sense that only introduce terminology and do not add any knowledge about the world (Enderton, 1972) . To specify a conceptualization one needs to state axioms that do constrain the possible interpretations for the defined terms." (Tom Gruber 1993) Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 7 Feilmayr and Wöss have refined this definition: "An ontology is a formal, explicit specification of a shared conceptualization that is characterized by high semantic expressiveness required for increased complexity." (Feilmayr and Wöss 2016) One of the most elaborated ontologies in this regard is the ontology of traceability (Kim, Fox, and Gruninger 1995) which helped to develop the TOVE ontologies for enterprise modeling (Mark Stephen Fox and Grüninger 1998) considered as the main source for blockchain design. Blockchain design is based on the fundamental principles of the Internet architecture: survival (Internet communications must continue despite network or gateway loss), variety of service types (multiple types of communications services), variety of networks (multiple types of networks), distributed resource management, profitability, ease of hosting, and responsibility in resource use. (Hardjono, Lipton, and Pentland 2018) Models The most widely used blockchain modelling system, by abstract representation, description and definition of structure, processes, information and resources, is the enterprises modelling. (Leondes and Jackson 1992) Enterprise modelling uses domain ontologies by model representation languages. (Vernadat 1997) Based on component-based design, blockchain ontology decomposes blocks into functional or logical individual components, and identifies the possibilities, assisting in designing, implementing, and measuring the performance of different block architectures. (Tasca and Tessone 2017) According to Paolo Tasca, the methodological approach is basically composed of the following steps: 1. Comparative study of different blocks: vocabulary and term analysis to solve ambiguities and disagreements Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 8 2. Definition of the framework: identification and classification of components, defining a hierarchical ontology 3. Categorization of levels: Different aspects are introduced and compared for components from the lowest level of the hierarchical structure. Like any ICT technology, a blockchain is driven by the fundamental principles of data decentralization, transparency, security and confidentiality. (Aste, Tasca, and Matteo 2017) Other fundamental features of blockchain include data automation and data storage capability. According to Fox and Gruninger, from a design perspective, a business model should provide the language used to explicitly define an enterprise. (Mark Stephen Fox and Grüninger 1998) From the perspective of operations, the enterprise modelling must be able to represent what is planned and what has happened, and provide the information and knowledge needed to support operations. (Mark Stephen Fox and Grüninger 1998) Functions are modeled through a structured representation (FIPS PUBS 1993) a graphical representation in a field defined to identify information needs, identify opportunities and determine costs. (Department Of Defense (DOD) Records Management (RM) 1995) Other perspectives may be behavioral, organizational, or informational. (Koskinen 2000) An appropriate blockchain functional modelling focuses on the process, using four symbols for this purpose: • Process: Illustrates the transformation from input to output. • Storage: Collecting data or other material. • Flow: Moves data or materials into the process. • External entity: External to the modelling system but interacting with it. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 9 A process can be represented as a network of these symbols. In Dynamic Enterprise Modeling (DEMO), for example, a decomposition is done in the control model, function model, process model, and organizational model. Data modelling uses the application of formal descriptions in a database. (Whitten, Bentley, and Dittman 2004) The data model will consist of entities, attributes, relationships, integrity rules and object definitions, being used to design the interface or the database. Bitcoin Bitcoin is the main peer-to-peer and digital currency payment system that uses blockchain technology. Bitcoin network features: (Calvery 2013) • There is no central server, the Bitcoin network is peer-to-peer. • There is no central repository, the Bitcoin registry is distributed. • The register is public, anyone can store it on your computer. • There is no administrator, the registry is maintained by a network of equally privileged miners. • Anyone can become a miner. • Additions to the registry are maintained through competition. Until a new block is added to the registry, it is not known which miner will create the block. • The bitcoin emission is decentralized. These cryptocurrencies are issued as a reward for creating a new block. • Anyone can create a new Bitcoin address (a bitcoin correspondence of a bank account) without the need for approval. • Anyone can send a transaction on the network without the need for approval, the network only confirms that the transaction is legitimate. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 10 Researchers have highlighted a "centralization trend": on the one hand, Bitcoin miners join large mining bases to minimize their revenue variation. (Böhme et al. 2015, 215–22) On the other hand, a Bitcoin "aristocracy" was formed as a result of the architecture of the code; the members of this aristocracy are those who entered Bitcoin early on. Nigel Dodd argues in The Social Life of Bitcoin that the essence of Bitcoin's ideology is to take the money out of social control, including the government, there is even a Bitcoin Statement of Independence. The statement includes a message of crypto-anarchism with the words: "Bitcoin is inherently anti-establishment, anti-system, and anti-state. Bitcoin undermines governments and disrupts institutions because bitcoin is fundamentally humanitarian." (von Hayek 1976) David Golumbia states that the ideas that influence Bitcoin supporters appear from the right-wing extremist movements and their anti-central bank rhetoric, or, more recently, the libertarianism of Ron Paul and the Tea Party. (The Economist 2018) Kroll et al. argue that Bitcoin's ecology will need governance structures to survive, (Kroll, Davey, and Felten 2013) already showing signs of emerging governance structures. These modes of government can be based on consensus and, if leadership opposes, the community can choose another course. Beyond that, recent developments have shown that a single mining pool could contribute so much to Bitcoin's computational processes that it could effectively control the whole system, putting an end to its decentralized structure. (Kostakis and Giotitsas 2014) Bauwens and Kostakis argue that Bitcoin is not a community-based project, but a currency that reflects a new type of capitalism - "distributed" capitalism (Kostakis, Bauwens, and Niaros 2015) based on the liberal political ideology advocating the elimination of the state in favor of individual sovereignty. In practice, what is being achieved is concentrated capital and centralized governance. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 11 Vasilis Kostakis and Chris Giotitsas also consider that Bitcoin exemplifies a type derived from "distributed capitalism" (Kostakis and Giotitsas 2014) although it should rather be seen as a technological innovation. Philosophy Donncha Kavanagh and Gianluca Miscione introduced the concept of digital heterotopia1 as a way to describe and analyze the special and evolutionary relationship between contemporary state and digital money, including block-based cryptocurrencies. (Miscione and Kavanagh 2015) State features are affected by the connection with digital coins. Social systems create their own limits and remain alive according to their internal logic, which does not derive from the system environment. So, social systems are operationally and autonomously closed interacting with their environment and there is a general increase in entropy, but individual systems work to maintain and preserve their internal order. Autopoietic systems (like the state, with the tendency to maintain the inner order with a remarkable degree of independence from the outside world) may contrast with allopoietic ones. It results in a state with a finite influence area, but recently troubled by the new forms of digital money and the corresponding infrastructure. In general, the current world is polarized politically, with very few exceptions. New monetary systems, such as cryptocurrencies, fall within these exceptions, with the tendency to decouple from the state. Satoshi Nakamoto, in designing the most powerful cryptocurrency, has in fact considered an imaginary world populated by individuals who do not trust each other. According to the 1 Heterotopia is a concept developed by philosopher Michel Foucault to describe some cultural, institutional and discursive spaces that are in a different way: disturbing, intense, incompatible, contradictory, or transforming. Heterotopias are worlds in worlds, which at the same time mirror and still disturb those outside. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 12 ideology of freedom, one of the key objectives was to avoid any authority. The solution was Bitcoin, a variant that disturbs all current formal infrastructures. Foucault used the idea of heterotopia to identify where hegemonic rules and constraints are not applied. He first used the term to describe spaces with multiple meanings (Foucault and Miskowiec 1986) which reflect other spaces, identifying different types of heterotopias. Blockchain manifests these attributes of heterotopia at the digital level. Blockchain is a growing element of "cyber space" that has already been identified as a form of heterotopia, (Young 1998) but it also has particular traits. In the blockchain system we find the separate and opposable categories of heterotopias: the center and periphery, the interior and exterior, foreign and local, etc. In this space, "libraries" and "museums" as a heterotopic type function with "unlimited accumulation time". (Foucault and Miskowiec 1986, 26) So, the blockchain functions according to a similar logic. Heterotopic spaces avoid the rules and structures established in favor of alternative social order processes that do not limit imagination, alterity and difference. Digital technologies can also be interpreted as notational technologies, respectively a syntactic notation in a reference field, a technology version of what Nelson Goodman called a "notational system". (Dupont 2017) Notational technologies produce abstract entities through positive and reliable tests, or constitutive tests of socially acceptable sense. Consequently, blockchain technologies are effective in managing digital assets, because they produce abstract identities through scoring performance. Digital technologies create representations by abstracting complex object properties and then using these newly formed identities to control and manage entities. This process is then used to control and manage "real" entities. More recently, these Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 13 technologies can control and manage real people and goods, relying on their ability to abstain and manage their identities. Goodman believes that: "A system is notational, then, if and only if all objects complying with inscriptions belong to the same compliance class, and we can, theoretically, determine that each mark belongs to, and each object complies with inscriptions of, at most one particular character." (Goodman 1968, 156) Codes, such as binary code, machine code, and software code, are considered to be a kind of writing. There is an ontological gap between alphabetical scripting (human code) and Javascript (code for computers). But there is a simple and smooth translation between Javascript and the binary code (apparently the "language" used by computers). Blockchain technology is an artifact of the asynchronous interaction of a network of thousands of independent nodes with simple and algorithmic rules to accomplish a multitude of financial processes. (Antonopoulos 2014, 177) Ontologies Social ontology is concerned with the nature of the social world, constituents, or building blocks of social entities in general. Some theories claim that social entities are built from people's psychological states, others are built up of actions, others from practice, and other theories deny that even a distinction can be made between social and non-social. One of the ways to clarify assertions about building social entities is to use different forms of the supervenience2 relationship. An advantage of the supervenience relationship is that it allows relatively easy articulation of important distinctions in precise ways. But there may also be well-known shortcomings regarding the relationship of supervenience. (Fine 2001) Various other relationships besides supervenience, 2 Supervenience is a relationship between sets of properties or sets of facts. It is said that X supervene on Y if and only if a distinction is required in Y so that any distinction in X is possible. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 14 including identity, parties, merger, aggregation, membership, constitution, and substantiation, can be discussed for the social blocks of the social world. (List and Pettit 2011) Narrative ontologies For Paul Ricoeur3, there is an order and a structure of history transmitted through the narration of history, otherwise the history would be unintelligible. But the events and facts of this narrated history disrupt the dominant order and reorder it. Ricoeur has examined a number of different forms of extended speech, starting with metaphorical discourse. Narrative discourse is one of the forms investigated by Ricoeur, (Pellauer and Dauenhauer 2002) setting up heterogeneous concepts that identify actions at a time when something happens not only after something else, but also because of another thing from a story or history that can be followed. It reforms physical events as narrative events, which make sense because they say what happens in a story or history. The narratives are always a synthesis of the heterogeneous concepts that configures storytelling episodes. In Time and Narrative, Ricoeur emphasized the importance of the idea of a narrative identity. (Ricoeur 1988) Ricoeur's argument on individualization continues through a succession of stages. It starts from the philosophy of language and from the problem of identifying the reference to persons as individuals themselves, not just things. This leads to the consideration of the speaker as an agent, passing through the semantics of the action that Ricoeur had learned from 3 Paul Ricoeur was a French philosopher preoccupied with philosophical anthropology in the tradition of French reflective philosophy. Ricoeur concluded that, in order to properly study human reality, the phenomenological description should be combined with the hermeneutical interpretation, thus developing a theory of interpretation that could be grafted on phenomenology. While philosophical language always pursues univocal concepts, the language actually used is always polysemic, so all language uses necessarily require interpretation. In his later work he put an increasing emphasis on the fact that we live in time and history. (Pellauer and Dauenhauer 2002) Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 15 analytical philosophy. Then comes the idea that the self has a narrative identity. (Pellauer and Dauenhauer 2002) The narrative paradigm is a theory of communication conceptualized by Walter Fisher, (Fisher 1984) which states that all significant communication takes place by telling or reporting events. Stories are more convincing than arguments. Stories have the power to include the beginning, middle, and end of an argument. (Rowland 1988) Narrative rationality requires consistency and fidelity. (Dainton and Zelley 2011) Narrative coherence is the extent to which a story makes sense. Narrative fidelity is the extent to which a story fits into the prior understanding of the observer. The narrative paradigm is generally considered an interpretive theory of communication. (Spector-Mersel 2010) Wessel Reijers and Mark Coeckelbergh describe ontologically the technology with reference to the ever-growing digital chain, which contains transaction records. (Reijers and Coeckelbergh 2018) The blockchain is made up of the programming code as a sequence of symbols that can be read by the computing devices. This code has a significant human and socioinstitutional dimension. John Searle offers an ontological theory of social reality that explains the similarity between the law and the programming code, indicating their linguistic origin. The origin of certain artificial phenomena, called institutional deeds, is traced back to the linguistic entities called statements of status functions. (Searle 2010, 13) The linguistic act of the agreement (speech act) results in a new reality: (Searle 2006, 69) it gives the agreed party a new set of digital rights and duties, the constitutive rules defining the ontology of the ICT environment. (Reijers and Coeckelbergh 2018) Declarations on status functions include both internal aspects (linguistic aspects, sentences) as well as illustrating aspects (extra-linguistic aspects: intentional states such as beliefs and Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 16 desires). Thus, if we declare something, we can create an ontological reality while we want it to happen. (Searle 2006, 112) In the case of blockchain technology, the individual act of trading a quantity of cryptocurrency depends on the collective intentionality of this act, and a collective consensus is needed to make the system work. (Nakamoto 2008, 8) Wessel Reijers and Mark Coeckelbergh consider post-phenomenological theories in the philosophy of technology about the role of technological mediation and social studies of science and technology (mapping social networking groups or human and non-human actors) to analyze blockchain technology by conceptualizing the type of relationship which he represents between the subject and his world. Thus, the development of technologies such as Bitcoin indicates a policy understood as an interaction between social discourses and social imaginations. There are different philosophical views on how the ontological significance of narrative can contribute to our understanding of the social world and the way in which social reality is modeled. Some researchers consider that narrative is an instrumental cognitive skill or linguistic tool, while others regard it as an ontological category related to how people exist in the world (Meretoja 2014, 89) or understand human life as a narrative. (MacIntyre 2007, 114) Another theoretical division of the role of the narrative exists between an empirical tradition denouncing the narrative as a fundamental philosophical concept (Strawson 2004) and a hermeneutical tradition rejecting the idea of a narrative-free experience and claims that all representations of the human social world are mediated by the human linguistic interpretation (Taylor 1971, 4) that subjectivity is always mediated by language, signs, symbols and texts. (Meretoja 2014, 96) Thus narrative should be understood as a fundamental ontological aspect of human social reality. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 17 Narrative ontology can be used to study the different aspects of our social world. Ricoeur characterizes narratives as cultural phenomena and explains why narratives can outline our social reality: because it configures narrative portions that recreate social events (Borisenkova 2010, 93) and thus renews our social reality. Organizing the narrative structure helps us to understand the social world, but at the same time understanding the social world is the basis of any new narrative structure. David Kaplan established a connection between Ricoeur's work and the philosophy of technology. He suggests that Ricoeur's hermeneutical method as well as the hermeneutic circle analysis between human experience and narrative can be fruitful in technology discussions, (Kaplan 2006, 43–44) as these elements can enrich the analysis of technological mediation by including the notion of linguistic and social mediation. Blockchain technology and narrative-constructed monetary technologies do not organize people and interactions directly with each other, but rather quasi-characters (e.g., addresses, exchange houses) and quasi-events (e.g., transactions) in quasi-plotting (e.g., mining a block). (Ricoeur 1990, 181) Enterprise ontologies Enterprise ontology for blockchain transactions includes datalogical, infological and essential levels. OntoClean (Guarino 1998) developed by Nicola Guarino and Chris Welty (Guarino and Welty 2000) analyzes ontologies based on formal, domain-independent properties (metaproperties), being the first attempt to formalize the notion of ontological analysis for computer systems. The notions are extracted from the philosophical ontology. In the semantic web, a property is a binary relationship, with a subtle distinction between ownership and class. Thus, a metaproperty is a property of a property or a class. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 18 Identity for the ontologies of computer systems includes conceptual modeling of the database, especially those that expose the existence or at least the need to represent other entities. In OntoClean, identity criteria are associated with, or carried by a class whose instances are identified in the same way, called sortal. Identification criteria and sortals are intuitively designed to respond to the linguistic way of associating identity with certain classes. The design of ontology can be done when there is a basic understanding of the blockchain analysis. Blockchain comes in three forms: public, private or hybrid. (Buterin 2015) Blockchain ontology should also refer to the operations and business processes of potential adopters. Enterprise ontology provides a collection of relevant terms and definitions of natural language. Examples of frameworks for enterprise ontology are TOVE, EO and DEMO. (Kruijff and Weigand 2017) TOVE, the acronym of the TOronto Virtual Enterprise project, is a project for an ontological framework for enterprise integration based and tailored for enterprise modeling. (Totland 1997) The initial objectives of the project were: (M.S. Fox 1992) Creating a distributed representation or an ontology of the enterprise that every agent in the distributed enterprise can understand and use • Defining the meaning of all descriptions or semantics • Implementing semantics into a set of axioms that will allow TOVE to automatically answer to many "common sense" questions about the enterprise, and • Defining a symbol system to represent a concept in a graphical context. The project develops a set of integrated ontologies for modeling enterprises. Ted Williams states that it is "multi-level, spanning conceptual, generic and applications layers. The generic and Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 19 applications layers all also stratified and composed of micro theories spanning, for example, activities, time, resources, constraints, etc." (Williams 2000) Fox et al. presented TOVE enterprise models as a second-generation knowledge engineering approach. An approach to first generation knowledge engineering "is extracting rules from experts, while second generation is ontology engineering: They develop comprehensive ontologies for all the aspects of an organization they find necessary (necessity is decided based on competency requirements to the model, i.e., what are the questions the model will have to answer, either by ordinary look-up or by deduction). The background of TOVE is clearly knowledge engineering and to some degree Computer Integrated Manufacturing." (M.S. Fox 1992) A business modeling methodology for transactions and the analysis and representation of business processes that provide a coherent understanding of communication, information, action and organization was developed in the 1980s by Jan Dietz and is inspired by the perspective language/action introduced in the field of computer science and computer systems design by Fernando Flores and Terry Winograd in the 1980s: (Flores et al. 1988) Design and Engineering Methodology for Organizations (DEMO). (J. L. G. Dietz 2001) DEMO is based on explicitly specified principles characterized by a rigid modeling methodology (Van Nuffel, Mulder, and Van Kervel 2009) and focuses on building and operating a system rather than on functional behavior. It underlines the importance of choosing the most effective level of abstraction to establish a separation of problems. (Nian and Chuen 2015) DEMO has proven to be a useful methodology to formalize systems that are ambiguous, inconsistent or incomplete, especially when it comes to reducing the complexity of modeling (Wang, Albani, and Barjis 2011) enterprise ontology. (Kruijff and Weigand 2017) Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 20 The methodology provides a coherent understanding of communication, information, action and organization, and is based on the following principles: (J. Dietz 1996) • An organization consists of people with authority and responsibility to act and negotiate. • Information systems and business processes design leads to uniformity. • The models should be understandable for everyone interested. • Information needs to match their users. This concept has proven to be a new paradigm for the design of information systems, highlighting what people do while communicating, reality through language, and how communication brings a coordination of their activities. (Dignum and Dietz 1997) DEMO is related to the Natural Language Information Analysis Method (NIAM) developed by Shir Nijssen (Aaldijk and Vermeulen 2001) and Object Role Modeling (ORM) (J. L. G. Dietz and Halpin 2004). The ontological model of an enterprise in DEMO consists of an integrated set of four layout models, each with a specific vision of the enterprise: • Construction Model (CM): composition, environment, interaction structure and interstriction structure • Process Model (PM): the state space and the transition space of its coordinating world • Action Model (AM): a set of action rules; and • Factual Model (FM): the state space and the transition space of its production world An important development in the history of databases was the separation of implementation options from the conceptual model of the database (principle of data independence). A similar separation is very necessary for the blockchain domain. An axiom of distinction of enterprise ontology can be adopted as an ontological basis for this separation. (Kruijff and Weigand 2017) Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 21 Enterprise ontology distinguishes three basic human abilities: performa (bringing new things through communication), informa (content aspects of communication and information) and forma (aspects of the form of communication and information). (J. L. G. Dietz 2006) Following the three abilities, we distinguish three ontological layers: (Kruijff and Weigand 2017) datalogical (describes blockchain transactions at the technical level in terms of blocks and code), an infological abstraction (to describe blockchain transactions as the effect of an open (immutable) register system), and essential (to describe the economic significance of infological transactions). The datalogical level is the level of data structures and data manipulation, using taxonomies identified in the cryptocurrency, (Glaser and Bezzenberger 2015) blockchain research (Christidis and Devetsikiotis 2016) and blockchain technologies and cloud providers. (Gray 2016) Unified Modeling Language (UML) of Object Management Group, along with Object Constraint Language (OCL), (Purvis and Cranefield 1999) are considered by Joost de Kruijff and Hans Weigand as the best fit for blockchain ontology. (de Kruijff and Weigand 2017) OCL is a declarative language that describes the rules applicable to UML models and is part of the UML standard. Initially, OCL was just an extension of the formal specification language for UML. (Object Management Group 2000) Now, OCL can be used with any meta-model. (Object Management Group 2006) OCL is a precise text language that provides constraint expressions and query objects on any specific model or meta-model that cannot be expressed otherwise by schematic notation. OCL is a major component within the new standard recommendation for model transformation. OCL is an analysis and design method resulted from a previous second-generation objectoriented method. OCL includes: 1. a context defining the condition when the statement is valid Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 22 2. a property of context features (for example an attribute if the context is a class) 3. an operation handling or qualifying a property; and 4. keywords for conditional expressions. Joost de Kruijff uses OCL for datalogical blockchain ontology (de Kruijff and Weigand 2017) where wallet (that initiates transactions on the blockchain and receives the result), transaction (a request to nodes containing an entry, an amount and an exit, or custom data), and node (an entity to prove or validates and adds transactions to a block using a unique hash, being rewarded for each successful transaction) are most important components of this ontology. In the taxonomy for the ontological structure of a chain, Joost de Kruijff and Hans Weigand distinguish several objects. Langefors distinguished between information (as well as knowledge) and data (as representation), (Goldkuhl 1995) creating a new field in knowledge engineering called infology, for the administration of complicated structures. (J. L. G. Dietz 2006) Blockchain as a "distributed register" is an infological characterization. A registry consists of accounts. Transactions must comply with trading rules. For each transaction the entry is equal to the output. (de Kruijff and Weigand 2017) Essential or business level refers to what is created directly or indirectly through communication. In the Language/Action Perspective, (Narayanan et al. 2016) the key notion in communication is commitment as a social relationship based on the common understanding of what is right and true, a change of social reality. (de Kruijff and Weigand 2017) Enterprise ontology is combined with the business ontology of Resources, Events, Agents (REA) to be used for the content of the change (Huňka and Zacek 2015) REA was originally proposed in 1982 by William E. McCarthy as generalized accounting model. (McCarthy 1982) Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 23 REA can add value when shaping current ERP business processes, providing an useful tool for understanding. (Fallon and Polovina 1982) REA sees the accounting system as a virtual representation of the real business. REA is an ontology, with the following real objects included in the model: • Resources: goods, services, or money • Events: business transactions or agreements affecting resources • Agents: people or other human agents (companies, etc.) REA philosophy is based on the idea of reusable design patterns, although REA models are used to describe databases. In ontology-based modeling, conceptualization is the set of ontologies needed to ensure common interpretation of data from one or more databases. If blockchain modeling is a specialized form of inter-enterprise modeling based on ontology results in a blockchain with improved interpretability. (Kim and Laskowski 2016) • For informal or semi-formal ontologies, can lead to improvement of database standards as well as business practices and processes. • For formal ontologies, can help with the formal specification of automatic inference and verification. In the formal ontology approach, the description is very similar to the definition of smart contracts as "pieces of software that represent a business arrangement and execute themselves automatically under pre-determined circumstances." (The Economist 2016) The REA model developed of Bill McCarthy (McCarthy 1982) can be used in accounting. The accounting perspective is appropriate in the context of the blockchain. (de Kruijff and Weigand 2017) Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 24 Since the blockchain transaction refers to events that trigger changes in economic reality, REA is perceived as more suitable for the baseline analysis than DEMO, which is more appropriate for coordinating these events, which is less important for the blockchain. REA includes the concept of a contract as a package of mutual commitments, through transactions and commitments, where some of the engagements are executed automatically. (Szabo 1997) Referring to REA processes, it can be said that planning (creating a smart contract) and allocation of input resources (output events) materialize on the blockchain, while executing the contract by exchange and conversion (in a smaller extension) triggers output resources (input events) that could go beyond the blockchain, even for physical entities, such as, for example, IoT devices. (de Kruijff and Weigand 2017) The accounting approach is appropriate for blockchain. The transactions trigger changes in economic reality, so REA is more suitable for the baseline analysis than DEMO, which is more appropriate for coordinating these events (less important). (Kruijff and Weigand 2017) For REA the contract is seen as a mutual commitment. The smart contract supposes that some of the engagements are executed automatically. (Szabo 1997) Transactions and commitments are made with sets of infological transactions, and fulfillment is accomplished through a transfer from the engagement account. (Kruijff and Weigand 2017) Planning in REA processes for a smart contract, and allocation of resources and events materialize on the blockchain, while executing the contract triggers resources and events that could go beyond the blockchain. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 25 Conclusions Blockchain technologies have ontological status specific to emerging web technologies, offering new insights compared to what we know as reality. Blockchain technologies do not work autonomously and discreetly, but intertwined with many other aspects of our conceptions of reality, both physically and virtually. Blockchain technologies extend the aspects of our existence and our ability to shape and create reality. It follows that blockchain is not just a new technology, but even a new type of technology, it can be an innovative and fundamental way of configuring reality. (Swan and Filippi 2017) The first step in adopting technology was the financial industry by trading bitcoin cryptocurrency. But global payments are only a fraction of the global financial industry use cases. Blockchain technologies can open a new era in IT development and financial transactions, affecting other areas such as IoT, consumer electronics, insurance, energy, logistics, transport, media, communications, entertainment, healthcare, automation and robotics. (Tasca and Tessone 2017) Blockchain technology will allow for an evolution on a higher level of the IoT concept. Tapscott and Tapscott (Tapscott, Tapscott, and Cummings 2017) claim that this new Tutorial Internet will need a Register of All Things and a digital processing system that can be provided by blockchain cryptography. By combining BitTorrent peer-to-peer file sharing with public key cryptography, blockchain technology can also be used to record almost everything that can be expressed in code: birth and death certificates, marriage permissions, property titles, financial accounts, medical records, votes, records of origin, etc. (Kim and Laskowski 2016) Currently, a blockchain 2.0 governance initiative uses technology to enable refugees across Europe to create digital identities that can be used to identify theirs and their families cryptographically and to receive and spend money without bank accounts. (K. Morris 2015) Swan Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 26 provides a "Blockchain 3.0" stage where blockchain technology will also apply in other areas such as health, literacy, culture and art. (Swan 2015, 55–78) The blockchain philosophy is still at the beginning of the road. It will need to be supported in the future by an explanatory and robust phenomenological, consistent and test-proof theory. Efforts can focus on both ontological and epistemological issues, through an understanding of the conceptual, theoretical and fundamental dimensions of technology, based on which new fields of investigation technological, economic, financial, and political can be developed. Using the conceptual framework of narrative technologies, Wessel Reijers and Mark Coeckelbergh have come to the conclusion that blockchain technology actively configures our understanding of social reality, configures narrative structures that abstracted from the sphere of action, and configures the distances between the second order narratives of technology and the first order narratives deriving from the active configuration of technology, (Reijers and Coeckelbergh 2018) with potential implications and normative, ethical and political contributions, both positive and negative. For enterprise ontologies, a blockchain transaction, regardless of its ecosystemic and cryptographic complexity at a datalogical level, presents conceptual similarities critical and essential to traditional economic transactions. In addition to verification using top ontologies such as DOLCE, subsequent validation can be done with applications, and by mapping to the various implementations of the existing blockchain. (de Kruijff and Weigand 2017) A major step forward is to understand and formalize interactions between networks, side chains and off-line chains in public, private and hybrid domains (zoning of blocks). At present, there is no formal blockchain ontology required for global adoption and compatibility to develop cross-cutting solutions and provide cost-effective solutions. Blockchain Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 27 ontology breaks blocks into functional or logical individual components, and identifies possibilities to help design, implement, and measure the performance of different block architectures. All these possibilities suggest a new world that we have to understand, a task where philosophy could help by providing a conceptual framework on how to do that. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 28 Bibliography Aaldijk, Rob, and Erik Vermeulen. 2001. "Modelleren van Organisaties -Nieuwe Methoden En Technieken Leiden Tot Beter Inzicht." http://api.ning.com/files/rgMchfmWQA57MkWjSFxZ7XWLp0A7Ywf0KgaZUNxl0O1OMj*TRFOkPpXb7Kj7nNa7YRcC-jXrY6w4gl0JkcWvxytMNf9aB2/Aaldijk.pdf. Allison, Ian. 2015. "Decentralised Government Project Bitnation Offers Refugees Blockchain IDs and Bitcoin Debit Cards." International Business Times UK. 2015. https://www.ibtimes.co.uk/decentralised-government-project-bitnation-offers-refugeesblockchain-ids-bitcoin-debit-cards-1526547. Antonopoulos, Andreas M. 2014. Mastering Bitcoin: Unlocking Digital Cryptocurrencies. 1 edition. Sebastopol CA: O'Reilly Media. Aste, Tomaso, Paolo Tasca, and Tiziana di Matteo. 2017. "Blockchain Technologies: The Foreseeable Impact on Society and Industry." Computer 50: 18–28. https://doi.org/10.1109/MC.2017.3571064. Berners-Lee, Tim. 2000. Weaving the Web: The Original Design and Ultimate Destiny of the World Wide Web. HarperCollins. ---. 2004. "Semantic Web." ResearchGate. 2004. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/307845029_Tim_BernersLee's_Semantic_Web. ---. 2007. "Q&A with Tim Berners-Lee Bloomberg." 2007. https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2007-04-09/q-and-a-with-tim-bernersleebusinessweek-business-news-stock-market-and-financial-advice. Bhaskar, Nirupama Devi, and David LEE Kuo Chuen. 2015. "Bitcoin Mining Technology." In Handbook of Digital Currency, edited by David Lee Kuo Chuen, 45–65. San Diego: Academic Press. https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-12-802117-0.00003-5. Böhme, Rainer, Christin Nicolas, Edelman Benjamin, and Tyler Moore. 2015. "Bitcoin: Economics, Technology, and Governance." https://pubs.aeaweb.org/doi/pdfplus/10.1257/jep.29.2.213. Borisenkova, Anna. 2010. "Narrative Refiguration of Social Events: Paul Ricoeur's Contribution to Rethinking the Social." Études Ricoeuriennes / Ricoeur Studies 1 (1): 87–98. https://doi.org/10.5195/errs.2010.37. Brito, Jerry, and Andrea Castillo. 2016. Bitcoin: A Primer for Policymakers. 2 edition. Arlington, Virginia: Mercatus Center at George Mason University. Buterin, Vitalik. 2015. "On Public and Private Blockchains." 2015. https://blog.ethereum.org/2015/08/07/on-public-and-private-blockchains/. Calvery, Jennifer Shasky. 2013. "Statement of Jennifer Shasky Calvery, Director Financial Crimes Enforcement Network United States Department of the Treasury Before the United States Senate Committee on Homeland Security and Government Affairs." https://www.fincen.gov/sites/default/files/2016-08/20131118.pdf. Christidis, K., and M. Devetsikiotis. 2016. "Blockchains and Smart Contracts for the Internet of Things." IEEE Access 4: 2292–2303. https://doi.org/10.1109/ACCESS.2016.2566339. Dainton, Marianne, and Elaine D Zelley. 2011. Applying Communication Theory for Professional Life: A Practical Introduction. Thousand Oaks, Calif.: SAGE Publications. D-Cent. 2015. "Tools for Democratic Participation and Citizen Empowerment." https://dcentproject.eu/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/publishable-summary-10-2015-forweb.pdf. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 29 Department Of Defense (DOD) Records Management (RM). 1995. "Reader's Guide to IDEF0 Function Models." https://www.archives.gov/files/era/pdf/rmsc-19951006-dod-rmfunction-and-information-models.pdf. Dietz, Jan. 1996. "Introductie Tot DEMO." http://www.fredvroom.nl/Downloads/Introductie%20tot%20DEMO%20- %20Prof.%20Dr.%20Ir.%20J.L.G.%20Dietz.pdf. Dietz, Jan L. G. 2001. "DEMO: Towards a Discipline of Organisation Engineering." European Journal of Operational Research 128: 351–63. https://doi.org/10.1016/S03772217(00)00077-1. ---. 2006. Enterprise Ontology: Theory and Methodology. Berlin Heidelberg: SpringerVerlag. //www.springer.com/la/book/9783540291695. Dietz, Jan L. G., and Terry A. Halpin. 2004. "Using DEMO and ORM in Concert: A Case Study." In Advanced Topics in Database Research, Vol. 3. https://doi.org/10.4018/978-159140-255-8.ch011. Dignum, Frank, and Jan Dietz. 1997. "Communication Modeling, The Language/Action Perspective. Second International Workshop on Communication Modeling." https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/7dd5/7b8af197433f295ef553f88e3b361b1a383e.pdf. Dupont, Quinn. 2017. "Blockchain Identities: Notational Technologies for Control and Management of Abstracted Entities." 2017. https://philarchive.org. Fallon, Richard, and Simon Polovina. 1982. "REA Analysis of SAP HCM; Some Initial Findings." http://ceur-ws.org/Vol-1040/paper4.pdf. Feilmayr, Christina, and Wolfram Wöss. 2016. "An Analysis of Ontologies and Their Success Factors for Application to Business." Data & Knowledge Engineering 101: 1–23. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.datak.2015.11.003. FIPS PUBS. 1993. "FIPS Publication 183 Released of IDEFØ December 1993 by the Computer Systems Laboratory of the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST)." http://www.idef.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/idef0.pdf. Fisher, Walter R. 1984. "Narration as a Human Communication Paradigm: The Case of Public Moral Argument." Communication Monographs 51 (1): 1–22. https://doi.org/10.1080/03637758409390180. Flores, Fernando, Michael Graves, Brad Hartfield, and Terry Winograd. 1988. "Computer Systems and the Design of Organizational Interaction." ACM Trans. Inf. Syst. 6 (2): 153– 172. https://doi.org/10.1145/45941.45943. Foucault, Michel, and Jay Miskowiec. 1986. "Of Other Spaces." Diacritics 16 (1): 22–27. https://doi.org/10.2307/464648. Fox, Mark Stephen, and Michael Grüninger. 1998. "Enterprise Modeling." ResearchGate. 1998. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/220604924_Enterprise_Modeling. Fox, M.S. 1992. "The TOVE Project: Towards A Common-Sense Model of the Enterprise." http://www.eil.utoronto.ca/wp-content/uploads/enterprise-modelling/papers/fox-toveuofttr92.pdf. Gervais, Arthur, Ghassan Karame, and Vedran Capkun. 2015. "Is Bitcoin a Decentralized Currency?" ResearchGate. 2015. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/270802537_Is_Bitcoin_a_Decentralized_Curre ncy. Glaser, Florian, and Luis Bezzenberger. 2015. "Beyond Cryptocurrencies A Taxonomy of Decentralized Consensus Systems." Proceedings of the 23rd European Conference on Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 30 Information Systems, ECIS 2015, Münster, Germany, May 26-29. https://publikationen.bibliothek.kit.edu/1000073771. Goldkuhl, Goran. 1995. "Information as Action and Communication, The Infological Equation." http://www.vits.org/publikationer/dokument/145.pdf. Goodman, Nelson. 1968. Languages of Art. Bobbs-Merrill. Gray, Marley. 2016. "Introducing Project Bletchley and Elements of Blockchain Born in the Microsoft Cloud." 2016. https://azure.microsoft.com/en-us/blog/bletchley-blockchain/. Gruber, Thomas. 1994. "Toward Principles for the Design of Ontologies Used for Knowledge Sharing." ResearchGate. 1994. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/2626138_Toward_Principles_for_the_Design_ of_Ontologies_Used_for_Knowledge_Sharing. Gruber, Tom. 1992. "What Is an Ontology?" 1992. http://www-ksl.stanford.edu/kst/what-is-anontology.html. ---. 1993. "A Translation Approach to Portable Ontology Specifications." 1993. http://tomgruber.org/writing/ontolingua-kaj-1993.htm. ---. 2008. "Ontology." 2008. http://tomgruber.org/writing/ontology-definition-2007.htm. Guarino, Nicola. 1998. "Formal Ontology and Information Systems." https://klevas.mif.vu.lt/~donatas/Vadovavimas/Temos/OntologiskaiTeisingasKoncepcinis Modeliavimas/papildoma/Guarino98Formal%20Ontology%20and%20Information%20Systems.pdf. Guarino, Nicola, and Chris Welty. 2000. "Ontological Analysis of Taxonomic Relationships." ResearchGate. 2000. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/2637003_Ontological_Analysis_of_Taxonomic _Relationships. Halpin, Harry, and Alexandre Monnin. 2014. "Philosophical Engineering: Toward a Philosophy of the Web." Wiley.Com. 2014. https://www.wiley.com/enro/Philosophical+Engineering%3A+Toward+a+Philosophy+of+the+Web-p9781118700181. Hardjono, Thomas, Alexander Lipton, and Alex Pentland. 2018. "Towards a Design Philosophy for Interoperable Blockchain Systems." ResearchGate. 2018. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/325168344_Towards_a_Design_Philosophy_fo r_Interoperable_Blockchain_Systems. Hayek, Friedrich von. 1976. "Denationalisation of Money: The Argument Refined." https://nakamotoinstitute.org/static/docs/denationalisation.pdf. Huňka, František, and Jaroslav Zacek. 2015. "A New View of REA State Machine." ResearchGate. 2015. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/277942361_A_new_view_of_REA_state_mach ine. Iansiti, Marco, and Karim R. Lakhani. 2017. "The Truth About Blockchain." Harvard Business Review, 2017. https://hbr.org/2017/01/the-truth-about-blockchain. Institute for Blockchain Studies. 2016. "Blockchain Philosophy Institute for Blockchain Studies Website." 2016. http://blockchainstudies.org/BlockchainPhilosophy.html. Kaplan, David M. 2006. "Paul Ricoeur and the Philosophy of Technology." Journal of French and Francophone Philosophy 16 (1/2): 42–56. https://doi.org/10.5195/jffp.2006.182. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 31 Kim, Henry M., Mark S. Fox, and Michael Gruninger. 1995. "An Ontology of Quality for Enterprise Modelling." In , 105. IEEE Computer Society. http://dl.acm.org/citation.cfm?id=832309.837247. Kim, Henry M., and Marek Laskowski. 2016. "Towards an Ontology-Driven Blockchain Design for Supply Chain Provenance." ArXiv:1610.02922 [Cs]. http://arxiv.org/abs/1610.02922. Kostakis, Vasilis, Michel Bauwens, and Vasilis Niaros. 2015. "Urban Reconfiguration after the Emergence of Peer-to-Peer Infrastructure: Four Future Scenarios with an Impact on Smart Cities." In Smart Cities as Democratic Ecologies, edited by Daniel Araya, 116–24. London: Palgrave Macmillan UK. https://doi.org/10.1057/9781137377203_8. Kostakis, Vasilis, and Chris Giotitsas. 2014. "The (A)Political Economy of Bitcoin." ResearchGate. 2014. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/287241993_The_APolitical_Economy_of_Bitc oin. Kroll, Joshua A., Ian C. Davey, and Edward W. Felten. 2013. "The Economics of Bitcoin Mining , or Bitcoin in the Presence of Adversaries." In . Kruijff, Joost de, and Hans Weigand. 2017. "Towards a Blockchain Ontology." In . Kruijff, Joost de, and Hans Weigand. 2017. "Understanding the Blockchain Using Enterprise Ontology." Springerprofessional.De. 2017. https://www.springerprofessional.de/en/understanding-the-blockchain-using-enterpriseontology/12328482. Lakoff, Johnson, and Mark Johnson. 2003. "Metaphors We Live." 2003. https://www.press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/M/bo3637992.html. Leondes, Cornelius T., and Richard Henry Frymuth Jackson. 1992. Manufacturing and Automation Systems: Techniques and Technologies. Academic Press. List, Christian, and Philip Pettit. 2011. Group Agency: The Possibility, Design, and Status of Corporate Agents. Oxford University Press. http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/view/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199591565.001.0001/a cprof-9780199591565. MacIntyre, Alasdair. 2007. After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory, Third Edition. University of Notre Dame Press. https://muse.jhu.edu/book/52441. McCarthy, William E. 1982. "The REA Accounting Model: A Generalized Framework for Accounting Systems in a Shared Data Environment." The Accounting Review 57 (3): 554–78. https://www.jstor.org/stable/246878. Meretoja, Hanna. 2014. "Narrative and Human Existence: Ontology, Epistemology, and Ethics." New Literary History 45 (1): 89–109. https://doi.org/10.1353/nlh.2014.0001. Miscione, Gianluca, and Donncha Kavanagh. 2015. "Bitcoin and the Blockchain: A Coup D'État through Digital Heterotopia?" SSRN Scholarly Paper ID 2624922. Rochester, NY: Social Science Research Network. https://papers.ssrn.com/abstract=2624922. Morris, David Z. 2016. "Leaderless, Blockchain-Based Venture Capital Fund Raises $100 Million, And Counting." Fortune. 2016. http://fortune.com/2016/05/15/leaderlessblockchain-vc-fund/. Morris, Kelly. 2015. "Aiding Refugees? Yes, The Blockchain Can Do That And More." Huffington Post (blog). 2015. https://www.huffingtonpost.com/melissa-junrowley/aiding-refugees-yes-the-b_b_8149762.html. Nakamoto, Satoshi. 2008. "Bitcoin: A Peer-to-Peer Electronic Cash System." https://bitcoin.org/bitcoin.pdf. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 32 Narayanan, Arvind, Joseph Bonneau, Edward Felten, Andrew Miller, and Steven Goldfeder. 2016. Bitcoin and Cryptocurrency Technologies: A Comprehensive Introduction. Princeton University Press. Nian, Lam Pak, and David Lee Kuo Chuen. 2015. "A Light Touch of Regulation for Virtual Currencies | Request PDF." ResearchGate. 2015. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/286055684_A_Light_Touch_of_Regulation_fo r_Virtual_Currencies. Object Management Group. 2000. "ObjectConstraintLanguage Specification." http://homepage.divms.uiowa.edu/~tinelli/classes/5810/Spring08/Papers/OCL_1.5.pdf. ---. 2006. "Object Constraint Language OMG Available Specification Version 2.0." http://www2.imm.dtu.dk/courses/02291/files/OCL2.0_06_05_01.pdf. Pellauer, David, and Bernard Dauenhauer. 2002. "Paul Ricoeur." https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2016/entries/ricoeur/. Popper, Nathaniel. 2017. "A Venture Fund With Plenty of Virtual Capital, but No Capitalist." The New York Times, 2017, sec. Business. https://www.nytimes.com/2016/05/22/business/dealbook/crypto-ether-bitcoincurrency.html. Raval, Siraj. 2016. Decentralized Applications: Harnessing Bitcoin's Blockchain Technology. O'Reilly Media, Inc. Reijers, Wessel, and Mark Coeckelbergh. 2018. "The Blockchain as a Narrative Technology: Investigating the Social Ontology and Normative Configurations of Cryptocurrencies." Philosophy & Technology 31 (1): 103–30. https://doi.org/10.1007/s13347-016-0239-x. Ricoeur, Paul. 1988. "Time and Narrative, Volume 3, Ricoeur, Blamey, Pellauer." 1988. https://www.press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/T/bo3711629.html. ---. 1990. Time and Narrative, Volume 1. Translated by Kathleen McLaughlin and David Pellauer. 1 edition. Chicago, Ill.: University of Chicago Press. Rowland, Robert C. 1988. "The Value of the Rational World and Narrative Papradigms." Central States Speech Journal 39 (3–4): 204–17. https://doi.org/10.1080/10510978809363250. Searle, John. 2006. "Social Ontology: Some Basic Principles." ---. 2010. Making the Social World: The Structure of Human Civilization. Oxford University Press. http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/view/10.1093/acprof:osobl/9780195396171.001.0001 /acprof-9780195396171. Smith, Barry. 2004. "Beyond Concepts: Ontology as Reality Representation." In Formal Ontology in Information Systems (FOIS), edited by Achille C. Varzi and Laure Vieu, 1– 12. Spector-Mersel, Gabriela. 2010. "Narrative Research: Time for a Paradigm." Narrative Inquiry 20 (1): 204–24. https://doi.org/10.1075/ni.20.1.10spe. Strawson, Galen. 2004. "Against Narrativity." Ratio 17 (4): 428–452. Swan, Melanie. 2015. Blockchain: Blueprint for a New Economy. O'Reilly Media, Inc. Swan, Melanie, and Primavera de Filippi. 2017. "Toward a Philosophy of Blockchain: A Symposium: Introduction." Metaphilosophy 48 (5): 603–619. Szabo, Nick. 1997. "Formalizing and Securing Relationships on Public Networks." First Monday 2 (9). https://doi.org/10.5210/fm.v2i9.548. Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 33 Tapscott, Don, and Alex Tapscott. 2016. "Here's Why Blockchains Will Change the World." Fortune. 2016. http://fortune.com/2016/05/08/why-blockchains-will-change-the-world/. Tapscott, Don, Alex Tapscott, and Jeff Cummings. 2017. Blockchain Revolution: How the Technology Behind Bitcoin and Other Cryptocurrencies Is Changing the World. Unabridged edition. Brilliance Audio. Tasca, Paolo, and Claudio J. Tessone. 2017. "Taxonomy of Blockchain Technologies. Principles of Identification and Classification." ArXiv:1708.04872 [Cs]. http://arxiv.org/abs/1708.04872. Taylor, Charles. 1971. "Interpretation and the Sciences of Man." The Review of Metaphysics 25 (1): 3–51. https://www.jstor.org/stable/20125928. The Economist. 2015. "The Great Chain of Being Sure about Things." The Economist, 2015. https://www.economist.com/briefing/2015/10/31/the-great-chain-of-being-sure-aboutthings. ---. 2016. "Not-so-Clever Contracts." Internet Archive. 2016. https://archive.org/details/perma_cc_QNH7-5BJZ. ---. 2018. "Bitcoin and Other Cryptocurrencies Are Useless." The Economist, 2018. https://www.economist.com/leaders/2018/08/30/bitcoin-and-other-cryptocurrencies-areuseless. Totland, Terje. 1997. "Toronto Virtual Enterprise (TOVE)." http://www.idi.ntnu.no/grupper/su/publ/html/totland/ch0523.htm. Trottier, Leo. (2013) 2018. Historical Repository of Satoshi Nakamoto's Original Bitcoin. C++. https://github.com/trottier/original-bitcoin. Van Nuffel, Dieter, Hans Mulder, and Steven Van Kervel. 2009. "Enhancing the Formal Foundations of BPMN by Enterprise Ontology." In Advances in Enterprise Engineering III, edited by Antonia Albani, Joseph Barjis, and Jan L. G. Dietz, 115–29. Lecture Notes in Business Information Processing. Springer Berlin Heidelberg. Vernadat, F. B. 1997. "Enterprise Modelling Languages." In Enterprise Engineering and Integration: Building International Consensus Proceedings of ICEIMT '97, International Conference on Enterprise Integration and Modeling Technology, Torino, Italy, October 28–30, 1997, edited by Kurt Kosanke and James G. Nell, 212–24. Research Reports Esprit. Berlin, Heidelberg: Springer Berlin Heidelberg. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3642-60889-6_24. W3C, W3C. 2013. "W3C Semantic Web Activity Homepage." 2013. https://www.w3.org/2001/sw/. Wang, Yan, Antonia Albani, and Joseph Barjis. 2011. "Transformation of DEMO Metamodel into XML Schema." In Advances in Enterprise Engineering V, edited by Antonia Albani, Jan L. G. Dietz, and Jan Verelst, 46–60. Lecture Notes in Business Information Processing. Springer Berlin Heidelberg. WEF Financial Services. 2016. "The Future of Financial Infrastructure. An Ambitious Look at How Blockchain Can Reshape Financial Services. Technical Report, WEF, 2016." http://www3.weforum.org/docs/WEF_The_future_of_financial_infrastructure.pdf. Whitten, Jeffrey L., Lonnie D. Bentley, and Kevin C. Dittman. 2004. Systems Analysis and Design Methods. McGraw-Hill Irwin. Williams, Ted. 2000. "TOVE Toronto Virtual Enterprise." http://www.pera.net/Methodologies/TOVE.html. Wood, D. 2014. "Ethereum: A Secure Decentralised Generalised Transaction Ledger." In . Nicolae Sfetcu: Philosophy of Blockchain Technology Ontologies 34 Young, Sherman. 1998. "'Of Cyber Spaces: The Internet & Heterotopias." 1998. http://journal.media-culture.org.au/9811/hetero.php.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Can (quantum) information be sorted out from quantum mechanics? Michele Caponigro1 and Stefano Mancini2 1Department of Epistemology of Complexity, University of Bergamo, 24100 Bergamo, Italy, EU 2Physics Department, University of Camerino, 62032 Camerino, Italy, EU November 16, 2009 Abstract We shall draw an affirmative answer to the question posed in the title. The key point will be a quantum description of physical reality. Once fixed at ontic level two basic elements, namely the laws of physics and the matter, we argue that the underlying physical reality emerges from the interconnection between these two elements. We consider any physical process, including measurement, modeled by unitary evolution. In this context, we will deduce quantum randomness as a consequence of inclusion of the observer into the quantum system. The global picture of the universe is in a sense deterministic, but from our own local perspective (as part of the system) we perceive quantum mechanical randomness. Then, the notion of "information" turns out to be a derivative concept. I've spent much more time thinking about the photon problem [i.e., about quantum theory] than about relativity. A. Einstein 1 1 Introduction The abstract mathematical structure of the Lorentz transformations was deduced through simple physical principles. Thanks to the existence of these physical principles we do not have a significant debate on the interpretation of the theory of special relativity. The formulation of Quantum Mechanics (QM), to the contrary, is based on a number of rather abstract axioms without a clear motivation for their existence. Despite its success, the absence of elementary physical principles has determined a broad discussion about the interpretation of the theory. For this reason, and not only, Bell called the ordinary QM with the abbreviation FAPP (for all practical purposes). Over the years there has been a permanent wish to have a realistic view of the Nature also in the quantum framework. According to de Muynck [10], we can distinguish a realist interpretation of QM thought to describe microscopic reality (likewise classical mechanics is generally thought to describe macroscopic reality), from an empiricist interpretation where state vector and density operator are thought to correspond to preparation procedures, and quantum mechanical observables correspond to measurement procedures. Recently, with the development of quantum information theory, several scientists have given to information a fundamental role in the description of Nature. All these approaches (quantum theoretic description of physical systems) start in general from the assumption that we live in a world in which there are certain constraints on the acquisition, representation, and communication of information. Several works claim that QM can be viewed as information theory [3, 4, 7, 11, 14]. According to them, the description of physical systems in terms of information and information processing is complementary to the conventional description of physical systems in terms of the laws of physics (or the only way to describe them). In Ref.[3] it was sentenced: "The notion of quantum information is to be understood as a new physical primitive." That is, the laws of physics are reducible to information. The primitive role of information seems to explain, according to some authors, the deep nature of physical reality. In this context, the description of a state of a quantum system is a description of the information possessed by the observer about the system (in this case, the measurement is not a physical process). The quantum state is a construct of the observer and not an objective property of the physical system. In particular, in Ref.[7] it was claimed that the nature of reality can be explained by subjective knowledge. Recently, moving from the renowned Landauer's statement [8] "Informa2 tion is Physical" we are witnessing a drift towards the statement "Physics is Informational". Here we would supply some reasonings against that. We start our analysis by introducing essential hypothesis to infer the possible underlying physical reality. These hypothesis will be based on considerations of physical nature. We will assume that any consistent description of Nature is a sort of "isomorphism" between the laws of Nature and the matter. With the term isomorphism we intend that the theoretical structure of physical law is consistent with physical phenomena. A physical law has a mathematical structure, but a mathematical structure is not a physical law. The structure alone cannot predict physical behavior of Nature, we need of physical and mathematical axioms together. The physical axioms are determined by empirical facts, which in turn require the presence of the objects. Objects interact each other, hence any physical process, including measurement, should be modeled by unitary evolution. As matter of fact objects are also observes. Then, quantum randomness is a consequence of inclusion of the observer into the quantum system. From that, it follows the concept of information. This approach leads us to conclude that the information has not the statute of physical law and it is reducible to the laws of physics, i.e. it is a derivative concept. The layout of the paper follows the scheme of Fig.1. In Section II we discuss about laws of physics and matter. Section III is dedicated to the relation between observers and physical objects. In Section IV quantum correlations are invoked to describe quantum measurements by means of unitary evolution. Then, Section V deals with the origin of quantum randomness. Finally, in Section VI (quantum) information is explained as a derivative concept (coming from laws of physics and matter). Section VII is for conclusions. 2 Laws of physics and matter We start by considering three elements: (i) physical laws, (ii) information and (iii) matter. Our main objective is to find a possible link among them. We will argue that the physical reality is a structure emerging from an "isomorphic" relation between physical laws and matter. These will be primitive concepts with respect to information. From the philosophical point of view it could be interesting to analyze various combinations of the above three elements. In general we can say the following: if we take the laws of physics at ontic level, we have a form 3 Laws of physics Matter Correlations Randomness Information Physical Reality Observers Figure 1: A scheme summarizing the used reasoning. of Platonism; if we take the information at ontic level we have to do with idealistic forms, while we have realistic forms if we take the matter at ontic level. In the Platonic view, the dependence among the above three elements is: laws of physics ⇒ matter ⇒information. We do not join the full platonism, where the perfect laws of physics (which live elsewhere) can be computed to arbitrary precision with the unlimited amounts of information (in this case the Platonic realm is the "real reality"). We admit the importance of mathematical structure of a physical law, but we must combine it with the physical constraints, which are determined by empirical facts, i.e. the correspondence with the matter. 4 Physics is the study of the behavior of physical objects1 located in a space. Thus, the objects are governed by the space's geometry. A fundamental aspect of a geometry is the group of transformations defined over it. Then, the field of numbers is crucial to describe essential properties of the geometry. Physics is that take place in space and our geometry is that physics takes place within in. It is not possible to think physics without space. On the converse it is possible to think to geometry, many geometries, without physics. Physics and the geometry in which it takes place are not independent. There is a close relation between them [9]. Moreover, group theory is the necessary instruments for expressing the laws of physics (the concept of symmetry is derived from group theory). The invariance under the group of transformations is a fundamental criterion to classify mathematical structures. We assume that physics describes the behavior of many objects, that they affect each other, i.e. they interact each other, thus change each other. All physical objects, assumed to be interacting, must be described by functions (of both space and time). They cannot be simply described by variables (functions of time alone). These functions of (of space and time) must be group-representation basis states, actually Poincaré group representation basis-states, thus complex. This is because a fundamental fact about our Universe is the invariance of the laws of physics under the Poincaré group. It then follows that QM and relativity are both consequences of geometry and the necessity for interactions [9] (in the most economic way according to Occam's razor). Thus Schrödinger equation is not and independent assumption, but rather direct requirement of the Poincaré group, through the Dirac equation in the appropriate limit. 3 Observers and objects In QM it was introduced the fundamental notion of "observable". Is this term related with measurement or with an experimental process? The observable notion need of the observer, hence it is responsible for the division of the world in two parts: physical system and apparatus. While the notion of "measurement of the observable" requires the measurer (observer), the notion of "experimental observation process" has to do with results and facts. Our thesis is that QM has to do with laws and experimental results. In 1We cannot specify further the emaning of this term unless using a tautology. We simply consider physical objects as elements of matter. 5 this framework, the measurer can be considered like an object being part of the system (in the same way it can be considered measured/observed). All physical objects are observers, and all observers are physical objects, and because all observations are interactions and all interactions are observations, all physical objects and all physical processes should be governed at all times by the basic equations of QM, or more general by the transformations of the Poincaré group, from which these equations follow. We list some things supporting the inclusion of the observer into the system. • The apparatus (the observer) should not be separated off from the rest of the world into black boxes, as if it was not made of atoms and not ruled by QM. • We have not a theory of the measurer, we do not know who is the measurer and when it is authorized to make a measure. • We can easily interpret the notion of "experimental results". Within a result (fact) of an experimental process, we have both the measurer and the system. An experimental fact has two qualities: to include the observer in the system (without any privileged role) and to give us empirical results. • An empirical fact is interpreted as interaction between objects governed by physical law. In the light of these considerations, we argue that everything we know about physics is compatible with the hypothesis that all physical processes, including measurements, can be accurately modeled by unitary evolution of the wave function. This view seem to led us to consider some features ascribed to many worlds interpretation of the quantum theory [6]. According to this interpretation, the world we live in is continually branching into multiple near-copies corresponding to different possible measurement outcomes. Unitary quantum dynamical laws describe the evolution of all these branches simultaneously. The definite measurement records that we observe, remember and communicate, are just characteristics of individual branches. Then, the development of all quantum systems are governed by the same unitary dynamical laws and hence develop completely deterministically and linearly. In this context, the wavefunction describes real properties, 6 so that all speculations about determinism, causality, quantum jumps and collapse of wavefunction are unnecessary. When a microscopic quantum system interacts with a macroscopic apparatus, decoherence drives the "collapse" of the wave function (FAPP). All possible outcomes of any measurement are regarded as real but we perceive only a specific outcome, because the state of the observer as part of the quantum system is strongly correlated with that outcome. In this context, the evolution of the wave function is deterministic, however we are unable to predict with certainty the outcome of an experiment to be performed in the future. We do not know what branch of the wavefunction we will end up, so we are unable to predict our future state. Thus, while the global picture of the universe is deterministic, from our local perspective (within the system) we perceive quantum mechanical randomness. The Universe is governed by QM. So a system, an electron, an atom, a molecule, a crystal, a person, the universe itself is described by a statefunction. There is not distinction between observers and physical objects, they are the same set of things, meaning that the laws of QM must apply to all observers (including human beings). Statefunctions of an object are defined, can only be defined, with respect to another physical one: they are given relative to a frame of reference. A frame of reference is a class that can contain a physical object. We have to do with a set of observations of one physical object by another. Once established these basic points we should focus on the mathematical tool already available in the quantum theory which is able to preserve the above prescriptions, specifically the concept of relative state, and quantum correlations (entanglement). 4 Quantum correlations The meaning given to an entangled state by the many-worlds interpretation [6] could add new elements useful in our analysis. According to this interpretation, the terms of an entangled state describe something that really exist; the state does not just refer to the probabilities of results that would be obtained if measurement takes place. The different terms of an entangled state can be interpreted as showing that the universe branches into a number of different worlds. What are really important are the correlations (this is also in line with the relational approach to quantum mechanics [12]). The main 7 ingredient is thus the relative state. Let us say that an observer O is going to perform a measure of the observable B on the system S being in a superposition state: |S〉 =α|φB〉+ β|φB〉; where |φB〉 and |φB〉 are eigenstates of B. Before the measurement is performed, the state of the composite system (Observer plus System) is |O+S〉0 = |Ready〉O(α|φB〉S + β|φB〉S). After the measurement (according to Shrödinger equation evolution) the composite system will be in a state |O+S〉1 = α|φB〉O|φB〉S + β|φB〉O|φB〉S, where the observer results entangled with the observed system. The physical meaning, according to this interpretation, relies on the correlations. Each component of the wave function is called branch, and the branching is responsible for our experiences. These are the consequences of the fact that there is not interaction between branches, but every subsystem can only "see" the other subsystems states that are in the same branch. In this way, the quantum "world" is always decomposable into system and observer. The key idea is that their correlations defines a preferred set of basis vectors. The relevance of quantum correlations has been stressed also in Ref.[1]. There, it was claimed that only correlations, not the correlata of a quantum system, are physically accessible, but we have to include the observer as one of its parts. As a consequence, quantum reality is "real" in the sense that QM completely and deterministically describes the evolution of a closed system (not just its wavefunction), and that the statistical character arises from the fact that an observer, because he is part of the closed system, is offered an incomplete view of the quantum system he attempts to measure. Therefore, the quantum universe is deterministic as Einstein's physical reality demands, but must include the observer as one of its parts due to the inseparability of entangled quantum states. 5 Quantum randomness We have established that the inclusion of the observer into the system is responsible of quantum randomness. We now analyze two approaches that 8 tries to interpret the source of the randomness: an informational approach [7] and a tomographic approach [5]. In Ref.[7], the quantum state does not represent information, it represents an individual agent's subjective degrees of belief about what will happen in a measurement. The concept of information, here is not considered as "objective" data to acquire. The information is linked with the subjectobserver and depend from the choice and belief of the observer. The structure of this interesting position is centered on the interpretation of probability: the Bayesian interpretation. A first possible criticism to this approach is: how to demonstrate that information belongs to the subject? Is it possible to assume that information is related to the system? The central role played by Bayes theorem relies on the possibility to reverse the conditional probability. In a quantum context, suppose that (Ψ0) is the preparation of a particular quantum state, and (ΨB) is a particular outcome of a measurement of the state. To infer how the state was prepared, we need to compute p(Ψ0|ΨB), but we only have p(ΨB|Ψ0). So we have to make a guess about p(Ψi) (we are doing assumptions on the preparation of the state), e.g. by adopting the "principle of indifference" for which p(Ψi) = p(Ψj), ∀i, j. Then p(ΨB) = ∑ i p(ΨB|Ψi)p(Ψi), and by applying the Bayes' rule p(Ψ0|ΨB) = p(ΨB|Ψ0)p(Ψ0) p(ΨB) . The prior probability is the fundamental point between a possible subjective or objective interpretation of Bayes' theorem. In order to recover an objective theory, we must interpret probability in QM not as prediction based on our actual state of knowledge but rather as a prediction based on the most complete possible knowledge about quantum state. A prediction based not on what we know, but on the prediction that anyone can make, no matter how much they know. It is in this sense that the outcome is truly random: it cannot be predicted with certainty even when our knowledge is complete. Truly randomness is a consequences, according our hypothesis of the observer being part of the system and the basic role of correlations in a quantum system. 9 Probabilities arise because we (as part of the system) cannot predict our future with certainty, so while the wave function of the universe is deterministic we can do no better than making probabilistic predictions. Then, we summarize below our criticisms to the informational approach: • An unknown quantum state is unknowable, but an unknown state does not mean that we have to do with a subjective state. There are not an automatic link between unknown state and subjective state. In this way, we are replacing the unknown state with our knowledge of the same state (epistemic role). • Informational approach considers information at ontic level. As a consequence the observer is an external object that acquires information from a random world. In this way he builds his own subjective world of beliefs. • It is not possible to build an ontology of QM. Quantum system are defined by attributes, such as position, momentum, angular momentum, and energy or Hamiltonian. These attributes and thus the numerical particulars of their eigenvalues and eigenfunctions and their inner products are objective properties of the system. A Bayesianist intends the value assumed by an attribute not as an objective property, and the quantum state that we use to describe the system as purely subjective. The tomographic approach has the main objective of inferring (in indirect way) a quantum state [5]. In this context, we will ascribe at the probability an ontic role. In fact, in a tomographic framework, we are like the prisoners in Plato's famous parable who were chained in a cave and forced to see only the shadows of the things outside but not the things as they are. Our epistemological path is in syntony with the analogy of Plato's cave, because we have considered the observer as part of the system and his statistical description of the physical reality (shadows) is a consequence of his inclusion. We must pay attention to not confuse the accessibility of underlying physical reality and the subjective knowledge of the same reality, in other words between information and the existence of the physical reality. The tomographic approach relies on the possibility to characterize a system (either quantum or classical) by a set of fair probability distributions. 10 Such probabilities (marginals or tomograms) depend upon a stochastic variable and some parameters. They represent the shadows a system may have in "directions" specified by the values of parameters. By means of these shadows we can infer the reality (reconstruct the state). Actually, the tomographic approach provides a unifying framework where quantum and classical aspects could be better compared. So that the interpretational problems are moved to the probability field, and go back to the debate on the nature of probability (subjective or objective character of probability). Again, to have an objective theory we must interpret probabilities not as prediction based on our actual state of knowledge, but rather as prediction based on the most complete possible knowledge of the quantum state (in contrast to pseudo-randomness that arises in classical mechanics because of incomplete knowledge). As matter of fact, the information contained in the marginal distributions is complete. An ontic state can be represented through classic approach by the marginal probability distributions and is characterized by the fact that there are no other marginal probability distribution with the same collection of actualized observables. We retain the one-to-one correspondence between the ontic state of an object and this mathematical object. The tomographic approach to quantum mechanics is a classic-like approach, but the probability inferred is not similar with classic epistemic probability. We argue that our assumptions bring us to establish an ontological probability of the physical reality described by classic tomography. Thus our tomograms assume an ontological character and since they completely characterize the state of a system, also the latter assumes such a character. QM does not force us to give up realism, but it force us to distinguish carefully between potential and actualized properties. 6 (Quantum) Information The philosophical questions we would address here are: what information is and what is its role in physics ? Laws of physics is just a representation of information or information is a representation of physical law? Would it be natural to suppose that there are information laws not less real than physical laws? We utilize in our analysis the general concept of information as defined in Shannon's theory [13]. "Information in communication theory relates not 11 to what you do say, but to what you could say". Hence, information is related to many possibilities, different choices and distinguishability. Actually, information emerges from different possible configuration for objects. Why to include quantum systems? Because, the theory does not place restrictions on the types of physical systems that can be used in a communication system. The theory does not require classical systems, these facts suggest that a new concept of information is not required.2 Information is related to at least two physical systems. For instance, a communication scheme presupposes a source and a destination of information, thus implying that information describes relational properties of physical systems. When we speak about the information contained is a system, we implicitly speak about a relational properties of that system to other systems. Hence, information is not a physical quantity or absolute property of a system, because it does not determine any properties of a system. However, we should not confuse information with the property of a physical system identified by the Shannon measure. For these reasons information is reducible to a physical theory and not vice versa. Information remains an abstract, rather than a concrete, noun. That is, information is a derivative concept, there is no information without physical representation (i.e. physical objects and physical laws). If we refer to Landauer [8] "information is exclusively stored in the configuration of physical objects, and transmitted only by material entities". In this way, with tacit conditions, Landauer assumed the presence of matter and laws of physics as primitive. Information then assumes a relational character, moreover it is linked to the concept of many possibilities and as consequence to uncertainty. Information is anchored to the concept of probability which assume in the same quantum context an intrinsically objective character. The relational character of the information and objective intrinsic probability can be explained with the assumption of the inclusion of the observer as part of the system. 2In the light of quantum information some authors [2] disagree with this position. They claim that quantum information is something radically different from Shannon information. Others [7] claim that Shannon concept of information is appropriate for quantum information as well. We assume the latter position because quantum information theory, although identifies new physical resource (qubits, entanglement), does not introduce a new concept of information. 12 7 Conclusion We have discussed about a possible description of quantum physical reality based on qualitative assumptions. We have fixed at ontic level two basic elements: laws of physics and matter. We have argued that the underlying physical reality emerges from the interconnection between these two elements and that the information has not a primary role in the description of physical reality. The conditions that permit information to emerge from the underlying physical reality are the existence of an "object" with a multiplicity of possible events (different possible configurations) and the existence of an "object" which acquires it. Starting from this qualitative analysis, we can see that information is a derivative concept whose existence is subordinate to the relationship between more fundamental notions such as objects located in a space (matter) and mathematical tools to characterize it (physical laws). At the origin of ambiguities is the famous Landauer's statement [8]: "Information is Physical", which is too often reversed into "Physics is Informational". Landauer's statement clearly reveals that information is encoded on physical supports (objects, matter) and processed by physical operations subordinate to physical laws. Therefore, matter and physical laws have a primitive character, while information has a derivative character (as supported by Landauer himself). This brings us to devise a logical pathway which supports the above conclusions and describes how the concept of information derives from quantum physics (not vice versa). The merit of quantum physics has been to highlight the role of the observer, but we do a mistake in identifying the observer with a human being, that is giving a privileged role to the observer (and moreover external to the system). The observer/observed role is typical of any physical objects and relies on interaction between objects. In this way, the observer loses the property of being a privileged reference point. In this framework information assumes a purely relational character. In addition, it is linked to the idea of different possibilities through the uncertainty as consequence of the quantum probability, which has an intrinsic objective aspect. Thus, the relational character of the information and the intrinsic objective probability are explained by the fact that the observer is within the system. The objects that can play the role of observer and observed are actually quantum correlated subsystems of a physical system. The entangled states cause a statistically objective and incomplete view of physical reality. To conclude, we can say that quantum reality is "real" in the sense that quantum mechanics describe completely and deterministically the evolution 13 of a closed system and the statistical nature arises from the inclusion of the observer as part of the system. Within this framework one is naturally led to consider (quantum) information as as a derivative concept, that is one can sort it out from quantum mechanics. References [1] Adami C. and Cerf N. J., What Information Theory Can Tell Us About Quantum Reality, arXiv:quant-ph/9806047v1. [2] Brukner C. and Zeilinger A., Conceptual inadequacy of the Shannon information in quantum measurements, Physical Review A (2001) 63, 022113. [3] Bub J., Quantum Mechanics is About Quantum Information, arXiv:quant-ph/0408020v2. [4] Bub J., Clifton R. and Halvorson H., Characterizing Quantum Theory in Terms of Information-Theoretic Constraints, Foundations of Physics (2003) 33, 1561. [5] Caponigro M., Mancini S. and Man'ko V. I., A Probabilistic Approach to Quantum Mechanics Based on Tomograms, Fortschritte der Physik (2006) 54, 602. [6] Everett III H., Relative State Formulation of Quantum Mechanics, Review Modern Physics (1957) 29, 454. [7] Fuchs C., Quantum Mechanics as Quantum Information (and only a little more), arXiv:quant-ph/0205039v1. [8] Landauer R., The Physical Nature of Information, Physics Letters A (1996) 217, 188. [9] Mirman R., Group Theoretical Foundations of Quantum Mechanics, Nova Science Publishers (1995), Commack NY. [10] de Muynck W. M., From Copenhagen to Neo-Copenhagen Interpretation, arXiv:0709.2613v1. 14 [11] Parwani R. R., Information Measures for Inferring Quantum Mechanics, Journal of Physics A (2005) 38, 6231. [12] Rovelli C., Relational Quantum Mechanics, International Journal of Theoretical Physics (1996) 35, 1637. [13] Shannon C. E. and Weaver W. W., The Mathematical Theory of Communication, University of Illinois Press (1949), Urbana IL. [14] Zeilinger A., The Message of the Quantum?, Nature (2005) 438, 743.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Science and Public Policy 26 (1999), 75-6. Two Tribes Image & Logic: A Material Culture of Microphysics Peter Galison The University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1997 ISBN 0-226-27917-0, paperback, $34.95 US This is an important and coherent book. Indeed, it is the second of a planned trilogy of books, seeking not merely coherence but an intellectual programme to explain the nature of modern physics and beyond. It was preceded by How Experiments End (1987), which used the history of physics to explain the creation of knowledge. In it, the author implied a hierarchy of theory, experiment and applications. This present book "reverses that perspective", says Galison, placing scientific instruments, not theories, centre-stage. Machines are not merely convenient tools, he argues: they draw together disparate scientific cultures, seed the nuclei of new working practices and even determine how their users visualise the world. The book devotes over eight hundred pages to seven closely related historical studies and careful generalisations from the world of "microphysics" – a wide category that for Galison denotes studies ranging from raindrops to fundamental particles. A brief review cannot do it justice. At the heart of the book is the author's mistrust of dichotomies. Understandable neither as a struggle between theory and experiment, nor merely as intellectual rule-making versus social interests, physics is "a complicated patchwork of highly structured pieces" [p. xx]. Nor is this collection of instrument makers, experimenters, theorists and their associated social resources immutable. The nature of experiments and the experimenter have changed dramatically over the century. There are, however, enduring contrasts to be located on the patchwork, and one of the most evident is the fundamentally different approaches of the "image" and "logic" instrument-making traditions in microphysics. Galison begins with C. T. R. Wilson's turn-of-the-century research into cloud phenomena, and his invention of the "cloud chamber" to create artificial clouds. With it he was able to observe the formation of fogs (visual entities) and, later, the actual tracks of what came to be recognised as charged particles (hitherto theoretical entities). Wilson's photographic analyses brought image-based observation – previously the domain of meteorologists and geologists – to physicists, who +44 (0) 1904-432963 fax: +44 (0) 1904-432986 email: [email protected] elaborated its methods by collecting and classifying track patterns into "atlases" for photographic interpreters. The cloud chamber, and its ability to render the physical world in pictorial form, bridged the "morphological" and "analytical" traditions of these two scientific cultures. The "image tradition" was carried on by bubble chambers, closely analogous to the early cloud chambers, and by the use of nuclear emulsions (essentially refined forms of photographic film) which could record the tracks of particles directly. Galison illustrates the "logic tradition" by the use of electronic counters (such as the Geiger-Müller counter) coupled to electronic logic circuits. By counting "events" such as the simultaneous transit of two charged particles, these more blinkered, myopic devices – detecting only what they were set to look for – could amass large quantities of data to be analysed statistically In return they could detect rarer occurrences and more subtle effects. While visual imagery allowed a single image to serve as evidence, by the 1960s automated methods of image interpretation were sought to deal with the vast numbers of photographs produced by the bubblechamber research programmes. Logic was partly a way of doing real-time statistics and much more rapid analysis. All these devices were embedded in the material culture of their times. Nuclear emulsions borrowed the technology of medical x-ray films. Counting experiments were promoted by the influx of war-surplus and novel electronic equipment. Bubble chambers relied not only on post-war technology, but on the methods of teamwork then in vogue in military and industrial laboratories. The genealogy of Monte Carlo simulations can be traced to early electronic computers and nuclear weapons research. The growing experimental complexity of all these instruments created an almost impenetrable wall between the two traditions. Experimenters could no longer cross over from one methodology to the other, or even fully understand each other. Hence Galison's anthropological concept of a 'trading zone' between scientific cultures and sub-cultures. Those scientific workers at the boundaries between the image and logic sub-cultures, or between theory and experiment, military and civilian science, had to develop local languages to translate between them. The author sees the use of local languages – pidgins and creoles –as being common for technical exchanges between varieties of physicist and engineer. This fertile analogy works very well for what Galison to some extent disparages but acknowledges to be a seductive and ubiquitous idea in science studies: the notion of science as "island empires, each under the rule of its own system of validation" [p. 12]. What interest does this book have for public policy? Perhaps the major relevance concerns the context of funding and intellectual sponsorship. The author 1 shows how the two methodologies of image-based and logic-based experimentation each dominated microphysics at various times, and how funding institutions mirrored physicists' own weighting of their relative merits and discovering power. He also details the consequences of big science through the ill-fated Superconducting Supercollider (SSC) project. Galison succeeds admirably in his goal of explaining how "these machines, these gases, chemicals and electronics, came to make facts about the most theoretically articulated quadrant of nature" by exploring "the site where engine grease meets up with experimental results and theoretical constructions" [p. xvii]. We must remember, though, that this tour de force focuses on perhaps the most prestigious and esoteric part of modern science – a behind the scenes look at high church practices, as it were, rather than into the chapel were most of the faithful worship. Nevertheless, by unravelling the particular paraphernalia, resources and methods of this elite, Galison suggests just how effective this approach can be for understanding other branches of science and technology. Sean F. Johnston Lecturer, Science Studies Crichton Campus of the University of Glasgow Dumfries, UK DG1 4ZL
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Barry Smith Gestalt Theory: An Essay in Philosophy §1. Introduction The Austrian philosopher Christian von Ehrenfels published his essay "On 'Gestalt Qualities'" in 1890. The essay initiated a current of thought which enjoyed a powerful position in the philosophy and psychology of the first half of this century and has more recently enjoyed a minor resurgence of interest in the area of cognitive science, above all in criticisms of the so-called 'strong programme' in artificial intelligence. 1 The theory of Gestalt is of course associated most specifically with psychologists of the Berlin school such as Max Wertheimer, Wolfgang Kohler and Kurt Koffka. We shall see in what follows, however, that an adequate philosophical understanding of the Gestalt idea and of Ehrenfels' achievement will require a close examination not merely of the work of the Berlin school but also of a much wider tradition in Austrian and German philosophy in general. Ehrenfels' essay of 1890 was published in the 'journal of scientific philosophy' [Vierteljahrsschrift fur wissenschaftliche Philosophie 1 edited by the positivist philosopher Richard Avenarius, and we can assume that Ehrenfels' decision to publish in Avenarius' journal was influenced by the fact that his essay had been provoked by certain passages on perception in the writings of Ernst Mach, with whom Avenarius is commonly associated. The most important influence on Ehrenfels' thinking was however that of his own principal teacher Franz Brentano, and Ehrenfels belongs to an impressive list of gifted and original thinkers including Alexius Meinong, Edmund Husserl, Carl Stumpf, Anton Marty and Kasimir Twardowski whose philosophy was shaped decisively by that of Brentano. It is not my intention here to go into the details of Ehrenfels' biography.2 I shall mention only that, like so many ofthe leading figures 11 in the Gestalt movement, Ehrenfels was a passionate musieian. He took lessons in eomposition from Anton Bruekner, and made a name for himse1f as the librettist of a number of Wagner-inspired musie-dramas performed in Elberfeld and Prague between 1904 and 1925. Ehrenfels was Professor in the German University in Prague from 1896 to 1929 and he eontinued to teaeh there until his death in 1932. His cirde of friends, students and acquaintances during this time induded a number of important writers and thinkers, among them T. G. Masaryk, Franz Kafka, Max Brod and Felix Weltsch, as well as the economist Friedrich von Wieser and linguists of the Prague cirde such as Nikolai Trubetzkoy. Of greatest importance for us here, however, is the fact that Ehrenfels' lectures were regularly attended by one Max Wertheimer, the same Wertheimer who was later to propound the doctrine of 'cerebral integration' which gave rise to the psychology of the Berlin sehool. The importance ofEhrenfels' paper rests on the fact that it contains the first concentrated reflections on the question 'what complex perceived formations such as spatial figures or melodies might be'. This question may appear simple, yet its very formulation presupposes a degree of ontological sophistication which was perhaps unattainable before the discoveries of Brentano in the field of the ontology of mind. 3 Brentano, we might say, had set forth a means by which psychology can be made fruitful for the purposes of ontology; indeed it is this which is the theoretical core of the doctrine of intentionality for which he is nowadays principally remembered. Brentano showed his students first of all how to notice psychologically given distinctions for example between the various different sorts of simple and complex mental acts, between the intuitive and non-intuitive components in psychic phenomena of different sorts, between the various different sorts of phenomenally given boundaries and continuity but then he showed also how to take these distinctions seriously as the basis of an ontology. Ehrenfels' friend and teacher Meinong, too, further developed the ideas on Gestalt perception put forward by Ehrenfels in the paper of 1890 and founded a school which, with the break-up of the Habsburg Monarchy in 1918, was transplanted to Padua where it has exerted some influence on Italian psychology in the subsequent decades. The present volume will pay particular attention to this Austro-Italian Gestalt tradition, which has tended to be overshadowed by the Berlin school. The Austrian Gestalt school gave rise to a considerable literature, some of which is, I believe, recorded for the first time in the Bibliography 12 below. Its doctrines, which are related in a number of important respects to the work on formal ontology of the early Husserl, are also beginning to be rediscovered in current work in the area of cognitive psychology, an area in which the Austrian work on the structures of cognitive and perceptual experience may have more immediate relevance than the physiologically orientated integration theories developed by Wertheimer and his associates in Berlin. The fact that our experience is structured is, according to the Austrian conception, a matter of certain special 'Gestalt qualities' of complexes of data given in experience. Each such quality is determined by and is existentially dependent on the constituent elements of the complex with which it is associated. According to the later Berlin conception, in contrast, a collection of data (or any other psychological formation) does not have a Gestalt: it is a Gestalt, a whole whose parts are themselves determined as being such that they can exist only as parts of a whole ofthis given kind. The significance of this move cannot be overestimated. Indeed, the present essay may be seen as a treatment of the ramifications of the transition from the Austrian theory of Gestalt as quality to the Berlin theory of Gestalt as whole. The essay is intended also, however, as a first rough, historical survey of the wider Gestalt tradition albeit from a somewhat specialized philosophical point of view moving beyond the confines of the Berlin-centred approach that has hitherto prevailed. 4 The essay does not deal with those early developments in the direction of a Gestalt theory which occurred independently of the work of Ehrenfels and his fellow students of Brentano. Thus I shall not, for example, deal with the work of Ewald Hering, who is, with Stumpf, the originator of many of the experimental-descriptive methods employed by the Gestaltists in Germany. 5 I shall not deal with certain related tendencies in the work of Bergson and his followers in France and of Ward, Stout and others in England.6 I shall not deal, either, with the work of James, although passages such as the following from the Principles all brain processes are such as to give rise to what we may call FIGURED consciousness. If paths are irradiated at all, they are irradiated in consistent systems, and occasion thoughts of definite objects, not mere hodge-podges of elements. Even where the brain's functions are half thrown out of gear, as in aphasia or dropping asleep, this law of figured consciousness holds good (II, p. 82) seem to manifest a clear orientation in the Gestalt-theoretical direction. 7 13 §2. Christian von Ehrenfels: The Theory of Gestalt Qualities The essay "On 'Gestalt Qualities'" consists, first of all, in a terminological proposal. Ehrenfels suggests that the German term 'Gestalt', which means 'shape', 'figure', 'form' should be generalized in a certain way. Of course, more or less extended or metaphorical uses of this term have a long history. 'Gestalt' is itself derived metaphorically from the Germanic 'stalla' (a place to stand), which has the same root as the English 'stall'. There is a common use of the term to mean 'external or visible form' (e.g. of the devil, or of a ceramic pot),8 as also a family of uses allied to English expressions such as 'cut a figure', 'Great Figures in Styrian Philosophy' , and so on. The term signifies also quite generally a structure or complex, so that Clausewitz, for example, can speak of a war as an 'absolute Gestalt', an 'indivisible whole, whose elements (the individual victories) have value only in relation to the whole'.9 Ehrenfels, however, had a quite specific theoretical generalization of the term in mind. A spatial shape or Gestalt is perceived -or, as Ehrenfels and his fellow Brentanians would say, is 'given in visual presentation' -on the basis of a complex of sensations of individual elements having 'distinct spatial determinations'. In sensing the elements and their spatial determinations we are able to apprehend the shape as an additional object (quality, attribute) as it were side by side with its associated elements. Our total experience is therefore something distinct from the experience of a mere sum or complex of sensory elements. This is clear from the fact that we can apprehend the same shape (same spatial quality) in association with determinations and elements which, taken individually, have nothing in common: we can recognize the shape of a head, for example, either by looking at the head itself or by examining a drawing or shadow. Ehrenfels' proposal, now, is that wherever we have a relation of this sort, between a complex of experienced elements on the one hand and some associated unitary experience of a single invariant structure on the other, we are to conceive this latter structure as a Gestalt, and to understand the given unitary experience as structurally analogous to the experience of a spatial shape. Spatial and temporal complexity (and in principle also experienced complexity of other kinds) are henceforth to be treated not as separate groups of phenomena correlated with different faculties of mind. Rather, they are to be treated as instances of a single species, in which mental processes of the same sorts are involved in every case. 14 Again, the air of simplicity about this proposal should not be allowed to mislead. For given the comparatively developed status of our intuitions concerning visual phenomena and the quite general manageability of spatial as opposed to temporal structures (manifested, for example, in the comparatively developed state of the science of geometry), Ehrenfels' proposal has considerable theoretical power. Indeed, the essay of 1890 gave rise to a veritable explosion of empirical and theoretical research on 'Gestalt qualities' long before the writings of Wertheimer, Kohler, Koffka, etal. had established 'Gestalt psychology' as an independent movement of thought. Ehrenfels' essay is, therefore, more than a mere terminological watershed. Almost all of the theoretical and conceptual issues which came subsequently to be associated with the Gestalt idea are treated at some point in the work, at least in passing. Its specific interest here, however, lies in the generality with which Ehrenfels formulated his proposal. For even though he himself applied his idea of a generalized geometry of Gestalten in greatest detail to the specific case of our perception of melodies and similar formations, he recognized that the idea is applicable, in principle, to all varieties of experience, both perceptual and non-perceptual. Indeed, once the nature of Gestalten has been coherently established, the notion is in principle applicable to objects in general, whatever their qualitative determinations and irrespective of whether or not they serve as objects of experience on the part of actual conscious subjects. The generality of Ehrenfels' concept of Gestalt is apparent already in his recognition that concepts analogous to that of spatial shape may be applied not merely to complex objects of perception in other sensory modalities but also to objects having a complexity that is extended in time. The Gestalt concept is then generalized further to embrace also complex objects of experience founded on inner perceptions, that is to say, on one's presentations of one's own elementary feelings, acts or mental states. Moods, emotions and complex feelings are Gestalt qualities on this view (where some of the followers of Mach had wanted to eliminate the notion of Gestalt as a separate category by translating all talk of structure on the side of the objects of experience into talk of special moods or feelings with which groups of elementary sensations would be accompanied). 10 Sensory data from different sensory modalities may, according to Ehrenfels, combine together in such a way as to provide the foundation 15 for mixed Gestalt qualities of specific sorts. Thus our perception of wetness is in fact the perception of a Gestalt quality founded 4 on simultaneous sensations of pressure and temperature;l1 the phenomena of complex tastes involve an 'intimate fusion' of pure taste sensations with sensations of temperature, touch and smell, and it seems plausible to suppose that truly subtle tastes will involve in their foundations also complex memories and other data given in inner perception. Yet Ehrenfels allows not merely Gestalt qualities spanning different sensory modalities and Gestalt qualities built up on the basis of the data from both inner and outer perception. He allows also Gestalt qualities themselves to combine together in specific ways. Having identified spatial shapes, melodies, chords and complex tastes as first order Gestalt qualities founded on given elementary sensations, Ehrenfels recognizes that these qualities, too, may combine together in such a way as to found new, second order qualities which are themselves capable of founding third order qualities, and so on, in principle without limit. The most complex products of the most sophisticated civilization, including all the complex structures of language and art, are hereby comprehended within a single theory, and the stratified vision of the world of experience which this theory represents, developed further by Meinong in his theory of higher order objects, may be said to anticipate both Husserl's account of higher-order categorial perception in the 6th Logical Investigation and also Carnap's hierarchical ontology in his Der logische Aufbau der Welt. 12 At the very end of his paper, Ehrenfels considers the possibility of a stratification in the contrary direction, that is to say downwards from the level of the medium-sized objects given in perception into the region of microphysics. 'Is it not conceivable,' he asks, 'that each tone is the fusion of a sum of still more primitive elements with the Gestalt qualities bound up therewith?' He goes on to conclude that, no conclusive argument can be brought forward even against the possibility that we may not, penetrating ever more deeply in this manner, finally arrive at a single proto-quality, or at least at a single quality-continuum, from out of which distinct contents (colours, tones, ... ) are generated by the fusion of distinct combinations with the Gestalt qualities bound up therewith, [so that] one can no longer shrink from the idea that tones and colours might be exhibited as the products of a much higher degree of complication of proto-elements as yet unknown. (pp.115 f. below) Already the language of this passage suggests that Ehrenfels shared with Mach a fundamental elementarism. He held, at least from the point of 16 view of methodology, that the world as a whole is ultimately atomic in structure. He held also that a coherent account of the structure of consciousness would have to be formulated in terms of elementary acts and objects of experience. Unlike Mach, however, Ehrenfels drew a distinction between 'elements' and 'atoms' , that is to say between unitary objects of experience on the one hand and absolutely simple constituent units of worldly furniture on the other. As already noted, Gestalt qualities, for Ehrenfels, are not wholes embracing their fundamenta the associated tones, colours, tastes or smells as parts. They are additional unitary objects, existing alongside the unitary elements with which they are associated. The Gestalt quality is not a combination of elements but 'something new in relation to these, which exists together with [their] combination, but is distinguishable from it'. It is a special sort of structure, 'a positive content of presentation bound up in consciousness with the existence of complexes of mutually separable (i.e. independently presentable) elementary presentations' . (p. 93 below) For Mach, whose views are discussed in more detail in the essay by Mulligan and Smith below, the only satisfactory story of the universe and of all its parts and aspects is one which is told exclusively in terms of atoms, of absolute (phenomenal) elements. All other putative entitiesincluding not only melodies and shapes but also bodies and selves are merely auxiliary aids introduced 'for purposes of thought economy' . For Ehrenfels, in contrast, there are also unitary entities at successively higher levels, what one might call relative elements or' quasi-substances' , objects which, even though they do not belong to the ultimate worldly furniture, are yet given to consciousness in a unitary way and have to be recognized as such by any adequate theory. Thus the doctor, in observing the temperature chart, perceives the shape of the chart on the basis of sensations of its constituent points and lines; the shape is a unitary object of his experience and we falsify this experience if we fail to acknowledge it as such. By calling into account in perception or in imagination the associated states and symptoms of the patient, the doctor can now go on to perceive that peculiar mixed quality which is the patient's condition; this, too, is a unitary object of the doctor's experience, though one existing on a higher level of abstractness. From there he may go on, by calling into account details of the patient's past, to imagine, say, the quality of decrepitude in the life of the patient that has given rise to a condition of this sort. Here again the quality in question is a unitary object of the doctor's experience, 17 associated with, but not reducible to, complexes of points, lines, symptoms and events. Clearly, although the doctor's awareness of the relevant quality is in each case direct and immediate, the quality itself is such as to inherit a certain complexity from the fundamenta with which it is associated: like all Gestalt formations it is, in a certain sense, a case of unity in diversity. There is a whole series of problems internal to the Ehrenfels theory that are left unresolved by the paper of 1890. Thus Ehrenfels describes the Gestalt quality as a 'positive content of presentation'. Is such a content a real entity, something individual and spatio-temporal? Or is it rather an ideal or abstract universal, multiply exemplified in the acts of different subjects directed towards the same foundational elements? What is the nature of the 'complex of presentations' that serves as the foundation or carrier of the Gestalt quality? Are we to acknowledge both Gestalt qualities and sui generis complexes which they would be the qualities of? And how is a complex of mutually separable elementary presentations related to those complex fusions of elements which Ehrenfels also recognizes? Matters are made worse by the fact that Ehrenfels employs the terminology of 'content', which is notoriously vague in leaving open the question whether one is dealing, when one refers to a content of a given sort, with an immanent part or moment of an act or with its object. Moreover, Ehrenfels leaves open whether the Gestalt that is the 'content' of a given act is existentially dependent on the act or such as to exist independently of it. In his "Weiterfiihrende Bemerkungen" of 1922, Ehrenfels raises many of these problems again, offering sometimes rather cryptic replies to the various criticisms he had received in the intervening years. More coherent resolutions of these problems are however provided by Husserl, Meinong and Stumpf, and it is to their work that we must now turn. §3. Husserl and Meinong: Moments of Unity and Higher Order Objects 3.1 Husserl, as is well known, independently developed ideas very similar to those of Ehrenfels in his Philosophy of Arithmetic of 1891. In chapter XI of that work, Husserl points to certain 'figural' or 'quasi-qualitative moments' whose existence is implied e.g. in our talk of a line of soldiers, a heap of apples, an avenue of trees, a swarm of birds, and so on: 18 In each of these examples we are referring to a sensory collection [ Menge] of like objects, whose genus is also named. It is not only this that is brought to expression however for that it would be sufficient to use the plural of the generic name. It is rather a certain characteristic quality [Beschaffenheit] of the unitary total intuition of the given collection, capable of being grasped in a single glance ... which comes to expression in the given expressions (1891, pp.203f. Cf. also 1900/01, A633n., Eng. p.799n.). Thus as for Ehrenfels, so also for Husserl, we grasp the configuration and its quality in one glance not by collecting together in intuition a sum or sequence of objects or relations, as occurs in those higher order articulated acts of counting and calculating which are the principal subject-matter of Husserl's early work. Husserl explains this immediacy by appeal to the notion of 'fusion', a notion we have met informally above. This notion, which Husserl had taken over from Stumpf. signifies simply the absence of phenomenal discontinuities or boundary lines, as for example when one perceives an array of colour in which there is a gradual transition from red to blue or a glissando in which one musical tone passes continuously into another. Husserl argues, in effect, that the swarms and heaps given in intuition are such that the relevant parts of the intuition have become fused together: the parts are such that, in this intuition, we are able to discern no phenomenal boundary lines or discontinuities between them. The relations between these relevant parts become thereby fused together also, giving rise to precisely that unity which is the figural moment or 'quasi-quality' in question (1 R91, p.206). Husserlian figural moments come in many shapes and sizes and may contribute to the most varied mixtures and fusions (IR91, p.209): a melody, for example, manifests a complex quality of this kind. Moreover, each figural moment is characterized by a complex interdependence with the constituent parts of the relevant whole: Whenever a manifold of separate objects are given together in an intuition, the figural moments that belong to all the conceivable sub-manifolds compete with each other. When we set into relief a specific collection in intuitive unity, that figural moment steps forth which exerts the strongest stimulus on our grasping. But this victory is sometimes only momentary we grasp now this, now that collection within the total intuition to which they all belong, according to whether it is this or that figural moment which predominates. (1891. p.2 to of reprint) Husserl did not, in this early work, go as far as Ehrenfels in recognizing 19 the generality of the Gestalt concept, e.g. in comprehending mixed qualities embracing elements from different sensory modalities and from both inner and outer sense. He did however manage to get clearer than Ehrenfels as to the ontological status of Gestalt qualities or figural moments, i. e. in regard to the question whether they are most properly to be regarded as individuals or universals. Such moments, Husserl argued, constitute a species, a space of constant and variable dimensions analogous to the different species constituted by the various sensory qualities. (p.206f.) Thus just as, for example, in relation to colour, we have families of cognate species (red, blue; dark red, light red, etc.) organized hierarchically on successive levels of a tree of more and less general species and genera, so also in relation to figural moments we have families of cognate species at successive levels on a tree of species and genera moving from, say, line, swarm, star-shaped array to e.g. line of such and such objects configurated together in such and such a manner, swarm of such and such objects configurated in such and such a manner, and so on. At the very bottom of the tree are lowest species in which all variable dimensions have been made determinate. Necessary laws or principles in many ways analogous to the principles of geometry will then govern species at the various different levels, determining their possibilities of mixture and combination and their compatibility with different species of underlying elements. What we actually see or hear on a given occasion, however, is not the species but some particular instance thereof, an individual figural moment. This we apprehend as an instance of this or that figural species in virtue of the similarity (or, in the ideal case, qualitative identity) which it bears to individual figural moments apprehended on other occasions and with other associated elements. From this it follows, however, that there are two distinct respects in which we can apply the universal/singular opposition within the theory of figural moments, that our consideration of figural moments is subject to two distinct dimensions of variation. We have on the one hand a dimension of variability reflecting qualitative differences among the figural moments themselves, taken in specie (differences of position upon the tree). And on the other hand we have also a dimension of variability reflecting differences in the species of their underlying elements (and therefore also of the associated perceptual acts). Husserl's theory of species and of moments is further refined in the Logical Investigations of 1900101, especially in the context of the theory 20 of dependence or foundation put forward in the 3rd Investigation. 13 The Gestalt problem is, in effect, a problem of unity ,and Husserl here argues that unity can come about in two distinct ways. Either given objects are such that like nuts and bolts, or adjacent pieces in a jigsaw they do not need any additional objects in order to fit together to make a unified whole. Or they are such that -like two pieces of wood which need to be nailed together they are not in themselves sufficient to make a unity but can be unified only given the presence of some additional object (LV III,§§lf.). Such unifying objects may be of two sorts: on the one hand they may be independent objects like a nail or a mass of glue, capable of existing in separation from a whole of the given sort. On the other hand however, and more interestingly, they may be dependent objects, capable of existing only in consort with the objects they serve to unify. Husserl calls such dependent unifying objects 'moments of unity' (a term suggested by Alois Riehl), at the same time moving beyond his own earlier position dictated, again, by the confusing term 'content' according to which unification takes place always on the side of consciousness. Moments of unity, he says, are nothing other than those contents which were referred to by Ehrenfels as 'Gestalt qualities', by me as 'figural moments' and by Meinong as 'founded contents'. But there is needed here the supplementary distinction between the phenomological moments of unity which give unity to the psychical experiences or experienceparts, and the objective moments of unity, which belong to the intentional and nonpsychical objects and object-parts. (1900/01 A230f., Eng. trans. p.442.) This distinction between phenomological and objective moments of unity is important: it signals the fact that Husserl has finally cut himself free from the unclarities dictated by the terminology of 'content'. Examples of unifying moments in the objective sense might be the copula of a sentence; the treaty of an alliance; the current flowing through a computer (without this flow, the various pieces of the computer would be just so many separate constituent bits). Examples of 'phenomenological' unifying moments might be the moment of assertive force in an assertive judgment, or the 'ego', conceived merely as a moment of unity spread out through time in such a way as to be dependent upon the successive mental acts or states of a given person. But we may consider also moments of unity which bridge the 'phenomenological' and 'objective' spheres. Consider, for example, the 21 anger underlying a complex facial gesture (it is this which gives unity to what would otherwise be a heap of simultaneous muscular contractions). Or consider the intended or entertained end or purpose underlying some chain of actions on the part of one or several persons (actions which would, in the absence of such an end, resolve into just so many separate pieces of behaviour ). Our mental acts themselves, for example our acts of perception, may also be regarded as moments of unity, serving to constitute a transitory but nevertheless real unity between a subject and a perceptual object.14 Of course, when John is thinking, abstractly (or abstractedly), about, say, elephants, then there is no real unity constituted by him and any members of the elephant population. But when, in contrast, John sees some specific elephant by which he is confronted, then we may say that he is unified with the object of his acthe and the elephant do not simply co-exist, but are in fact related together in a single unified whole. 3.2 A somewhat different step in the direction of a coherent general conception of the ontological status of Gestalten was made by Meinong in a series of works written in the 1890s, in part in response to Ehrenfels' paper of 1890. Meinong moved, first of all, from the idea of side-byside ness shared by Ehrenfels and Mach, to an explicit conception of the Gestalt as above the founding elements. Thus in his 1891 he talks of Gestalten as 'founded' and 'founding' contents, and of a difference of level between the two. He then however moves one stage further, in part under the influence of Twardowski. He moves from talk of 'founded contents' to talk of 'objects of higher order' (see especially his paper of 1899). The examples which played the most important role in motivating Meinong's discussion here were the different sorts of relations, above all relations of comparison, identity, difference, similarity, and so on. We cannot, Meinong argued, see the 'difference' or the 'similarity' between two colours in the same sense in which we can see the colours themselves. Similarly we cannot see higher order objects such as geometrical shapes, velocities, distances. For such objects are ideal, like numbers and concepts, that is they are outside space and time, and what is outside space and time is not capable of being grasped in acts of sensation. Hence Meinong did not follow the broadly Aristotelian view a view that is at least suggested by the work of Husser 1-according to which relations and like formations can be considered in two distinct ways: either in specie or 22 as individual spatio-temporal instances (see Smith (1984)). Rather he transferred such formations out into an entirely abstract domain, a domain of Platonic irrealia. In the paper of 1899 Meinong extends the idea of objects of higher order in the direction of an all-embracing stratified ontology. 15 For Meinoñ however, as also for Ehrenfels and Husserl, it remains the case that the world of experience is divided into two categorially different sorts of entity, each correlated with its own peculiar sort of mental act. We might compare this dichotomy with the classical division between matter and form. The matter of experience is conceived as being constituted by the data given in supposedly simple sensory acts, all of which are discrete and independent, i.e. are such that each can exist in principle in isolation from all others. The form of experience is conceived as being constituted by special categorial objects given in non-sensory intellectual acts.16 Only with the Berlin school will this two-storey ontology be seriously questioned. §4. Carl Stumpf and the Natural Philosophy of Gestalten 4.1 That Brentano's most important students manifested an unparalleled philosophical power and originality is a thesis that has been advanced in passing already above. The thesis applies not least to Carl Stumpf, though Stumpf's work in the field of philosophy is less well known than that of, say, his own student Husserl. 17 Stumpf's central idea of phenomenal fusion we have met already: it reappears in a number of authors as a means of accounting directly for the phenomena of Gestalt perception without the need for an appeal to special kinds of objects. Stumpf's own account of such phenomena is however characterized by an anti-reductivist, descriptive attitude, which represents an attempt to produce what we might call a natural philosophy of the entire gamut of complex experiences, including not only the phenomena of fusion and purely aggregative phenomena but also a range of different sorts of Gestalt phenomena considered as lying between these two extremes. 18 Stumpf distinguishes, first of all, complex and Gestalt. The former is a whole of (e.g.) sense contents; the latter is a relational attribute, a whole or network of relations between sense contents (1939/40, p.229). This network is somehow unitary: when we hear achord or a melody we hear a 23 relational whole, not a complex or succession of dyadic relations. Gestalten are 'transposable' in the sense that the same network of relations can, under certain conditions, be transferred from one complex of relata to another. But now, Stumpf argues, this implies that there is something cognitive in our awareness of that specific structure which is a Gestalt. For to grasp a Gestalt is to grasp not merely an individual as such but also that abstract net of transferable relations which is its essence (op.cit., p.242). Gestalten in this sense can never be perceived of themselves but always only in and of some given formed material. More precisely, a Gestalt always presupposes some articulated whole in which there are distinct parts which are capable of being grasped as such. A unitary fusion, lacking in all articulation or phenomenally recognizable internal boundaries, is not capable of serving as foundation for a Gestalt relational network as Stumpf conceives it. Thus a tone or phoneme or timbre may involve physical or physiological complexity, but it is phenomenally (psychologically) non-articulated, and therefore has no Gestalt. This implies a distinction between 'whole-properties' such as 'smooth', 'rough', 'cloudy', 'trumpety', 'percussive' etc., which can apply to wholes in general, and 'Gestalt-properties', which can apply only to articulated wholes. 19 Thus Stumpf, too, accepts a dichotomy of Gestalten and founding elements. Hence he cannot accept a view of the sort advocated by Wertheimer, Kohler and Koffka according to which sensations are mere abstractions from Gestalten given in experience, so that it is Gestalt phenomena alone which are primarily given (in every sphere). This is first of all for ontological reasons: the Stumpfian Gestalt presupposes an articulation into parts between which there may then exist relations of an appropriate sort. But it is also for reasons of phenomenology: we do not hear the melody or see the figure in the same way that we hear an individual tone or see a coloured fleck, for in the latter there are no differentiatings at work and no intellectual awareness of identity. (pp.246f.) Stumpf's position is however strong enough to admit that, as a result of inadequacies or other special conditions on the side of the subject, the Gestalt articulation demanded by his theory need not in fact be realized in every case. Thus he is prepared to accept that we often see Gestalten without recognizing parts, that sometimes it takes effort to delineate figures with their ground, to discriminate constituent parts. (p.247) He is 24 prepared to accept that a musical tone sounds different when isolated from the way it sounds when occurring in a specific position within the context of a melody, e. g. as the dominant of a minor key. But he insists that the fact that a sensory element changes from one context to the next cannot at all count against the thesis that such elements exist, that a melody consists of tones, a landscape of colour-patches, and so on. Indeed the effect of much music consists precisely in the fact that the same tone in a different context can suddenly gain a quite new significance. Then, however, it is the role or function of the tone in the given context that is changed, not the tone itself (and from Stumpf's point of view it is characteric of the later Berlin school that they have been too much tempted to run these two together). A Gestalt is a whole of relations, but in certain circumstances only part of this whole may be perceived and this part may be a Gestalt in its own right. Indeed it is only in certain simple cases, for example simple visual patterns, that the entire Gestalt can be perceived in one intuitive glance. In more complicated cases this is not possible, and the greater the manifold of relations between the parts of a given field the less is it possible to grasp all relations simultaneously. We can grasp the Gestalt only if we are somehow able, by a cumulative process involving the operations of memory, to unify everything in one intellectual glance, and a discursive process of this sort is indeed indispensable if we are to grasp a melody or any other Gestalt involving any sort of temporal succession. 4.2 As one would expect from a philosopher-psychologist who was responsible, with Helmholtz, for establishing the scientific credentials of the nascent discipline of the psychology of music, it is to aural phenomena that the Stumpfian natural philosophy of Gestalten is applied in greatest detail. Stumpf considers, in particular, the conditions which must be satisfied if a sequence of tones is to possess that specific sort of Gestalt which we call a melody. Such a sequence must, first of all, have a sense for the hearer, a notion which Stumpf explicates by developing a comparison between that reference system which is a given tonality and the reference system which is e.g. a language. It must, secondly, have a more or less definite rhythm (and this is for many melodies more characteristic than the mere interval-sequence). It must be a relatively self-contained whole or formation, not part of any continuation. And it must he nondecomposable: its parts must be non-independent Gestalten, not themselves capable of existing as musical categoremata in their own 25 right. A melody is then 'an intelligible, discrete-successive, nondecomposable aural Gestalt having a determinate rhythmic structure and capable of existing on its own' (p.270). 'Intelligibility' here involves not only survey ability of rhythm, but also recognition of dominant , tonic, leading note etc., in a process parallel to the recognition of the different parts of speech in a spoken sentence. This in turn presupposes the interiorization of the tonal system, for hearing a melody is hearing with the contribution of intellectual functions. Who, Stumpf asks, would say that someone had heard a sentence who did not speak the language in which it was expressed and therefore grasped only a sequence of sounds? (p.272) Stumpf distinguishes also however between understanding or apprehending a melody and the somewhat different processes which are involved in its aesthetic enjoyment (as understanding a sentence is somewhat different from the enjoyment of a poem). One can apprehend the Gestalt of a melody only when one has heard the entire sequence of tones in such a way that a total impression has been gained through a discursive process. But the effect of the melody on our feelings does not begin only after it has been completed: we follow it through in its development from the very beginning, accompany this development with expectations, surprises, tensions, releases, for which the foundation is provided by repetition, similarity of strophes, crescendi and diminuendi etc., and these experiences then serve as the foundation for movements of feeling whose colouring is further determined through the purely sensual feeling-sensations [Gefuhlsempfindungen] by which they are accompanied. 'How the past hereby works together with the present, how every new tone is co-determined in its character by all its predecessors, this is something the psychologists have to be left to determine, if they are capable of this at all.' (p. 273) §5. The Graz Production Theory: From Benussi to Kanizsa 5.1 We have so far left open the question of the genesis of Gestalt qualities, Ehrenfels' own views on this matter being considered in detail in the paper by Mulligan and Smith below. Is the Gestalt quality such as to exist spontaneously as an object of experience, given only that an appropriate complex of elements is present in succession, as Ehrenfels (and Mach) believed? Or is the perception of the Gestalt quality the 26 result of intellectual activity, as if it would have to be produced by the perceiving subject? It is above all Meinong and his followers who have taken this second line, identifying higher-order Gestalt formations as products of cognitive or intellectual ~processing and thereby giving birth to what has been called the 'production theory' of Gestalt perception. 20 In insisting that Gestalten owe their existence as objects of experience exclusively to a specific activity of 'production' on the part of experiencing subjects, the members of the Graz school drew on Meinong's earlier division of objects of experience into 'real' , and 'ideal' objects, arguing that only the former can be experienced directly in sensation. If we have presentations of the latter, which are outside space and time, then the source of these presentations cannot be an affection of the senses; hence there must exist some other, non-sensory psychic activity which makes such presentations possible: this is precisely the activity of production. It is in the work of Vittorio Benussi that the production theory receives its most detailed exposition and its most elaborate experimental support, even though he himself, in his later writings, saw reason to distance himself from the idea and terminology of production. For Ehrenfels human ingenuity can invent ever new and more complicated types of Gestalt qualities by finding new ways of combining together elements and complexes of elements on successive levels. If the elements are combined together, however, if they are juxtaposed, whether spatially or temporally, then the corresponding Gestalt quality simply exists, in entirely determinate fashion, and in such a way that the relevant sensory presentations cannot occur together in consciousness without there occurring also a presentation of the associated Gestalt. For Benussi, in contrast, Gestalt presentations are brought about indirectly on the basis of stimulus-presentations; they are therefore characterized by a certain ambiguity in relation to the stimulus, are underdetermined by the lower-level experiences on which they are founded: the totality of that which comes to be apprehended internally through the mediation of the eye, i.e. through a certain organ of sense... does not unambiguously determine those phenomena, objects, appearances, or whatever one wants to call them. which are grasped, presented or taken hold of with and in part through the awakening of all these impressions. (1914 a, p. 399) Thus consider for example our experience of a succession of tones. It seems that, through a little intellectual effort, we can hear the relevant 27 sequence as divided into phrasal clusters now in this way, now in that. Or consider our experience of visual illusions such as the Necker cube, Rubin's vase/faces illusion, the duck-rabbit illusion, and so on. The same founding elements here give rise to different Gestalt qualities under different conditions, sometimes in such a way that the qualities produced alternate in a manner over which the subject has no control. This 'Gestalt-switch' phenomenon is perhaps the one concern most generally associated with the Gestalt tradition, though it is less commonly recognized that it was Benussi who was the first to subject it to detailed treatment, both theoretically and experimentally (and indeed that the notion of Gestalt ambiguity is at the very centre of the Graz production theory). For Benussi, then, it was not the 'ideal' nature of Gestalt objects which was of principal concern, but much rather their ambiguity a characteristic which is lacking, he held, in purely sensory phenomena. It was the fact that on the basis of the same stimulus conditions different presentations of Gestalt qualities can be won which led to the conclusion that there must exist a special kind of non-sensory mental process, an 'extra brain level', which could explain the sometimes complex and subtle resolutions of Gestalt ambiguity which occur from case to case. Experience has its roots in sensory presentations which are 'without remainder bound to the stimulus'. 21 When an act of production is carried out on the basis of sensory presentations, the contents of the latter are somehow collected together or ordered, are 'brought in real relation to one another'22 in such a way as to give rise to a new 'extra-sensory' object which then serves as the object of a higher level Gestalt presentation. This new position was given support by the fact that as the Meinongians were able to establish in a number of detailed experimentsour capacities to grasp Gestalten may differ over time, the facility to perform acts of production may be affected by experience and by training. Sensory experiences, too, may of course suffer from a characteristic sensory inadequacy of their own, as is illustrated for example by the case of colour-blindness. Sensory experiences may, in other words, suffer a departure from the normal, law-governed dependence relations between stimulus and sensory presentation, and such sensory inadequacy will lead to illusions in virtue of the fact that wc will tend, on any given occasion, to make judgments on the basis of the 28 assumption that our current sensations conform to law. Sensory inadequacy is however or so Benussi argues involuntary, objectively conditioned, and such that it cannot be eliminated by practice, all features in which it differs from the inadequacy involved in our presentation of Gestalten. The latter can be affected, e.g., by the exercise of attention; it depends on inner conditions , and can be mitigated through practice. Further, Gestalt presentation on the basis of a given structure may sometimes not take place at all (1904, pp.307f., 410). The subject can deliberately suppress the process of production, which brings us to another element of the Graz theory, dealt with in particular by Benussi's colleague Witasek: processes of production are subject to the will. Benussi holds that quite definite sorts of inadequate presentation of Gestalt qualities can occur even where the founding elements are brought to presentation in a way that is perfectly adequate. The inadequacy of Gestalt presentations is related in every case to different sorts of anomaly in the production process. That is to say, variations in our experience of Gestalten are conceived purely as a result of the intellectual activities of the psychic subject. Only gradually, as we shall see, was it recognized that the variations in question may be accounted for, in whole or in part, in terms of the state of the perceiving organism and in terms of other conditions in the objective sphere. 5.2 Benussi himself gradually adopted a different and more subtle view on complex perception, a view which is comparable in some ways to the position of the later Husserl. 23 According to this later view, presentational experiences can no longer be divided sharply into sensory and non-sensory. Rather, we have a spectrum which extends from cases of perception in which the influence of non-sensory factors ('central conditions') is very strong, to cases of high influence of 'peripheral conditions' in which such influence is negligible.24 Benussi established a tradition of experimental psychology in Italy which, through the work of Musatti, Metelli, Kanizsa and others, is still alive today, producing valuable results for example in the investigation of perceived plurality, of transparency and of subjective contours. The work ofthis contemporary Italo-Austrian tradition can best be gauged by looking at the investigations on vision carried out by Gaetano Kanizsa. 25 As will become clear, Kanizsa's work represents a refined and modernized variant of the old Graz two-storey model, though from a perspective dictated, now, both by influences stemming from the Berlin 29 school and also by opposition to prcsent-day cognitivist VIews on perception. Kanizsa is concerned particularly with the processing that is involved in our ordinary visual perception. On the basis of a serie'i of extremely sophisticated experiments of a phenomenological sort they are experiments involving figures and drawings in relation to which anyone can easily convince himself of the accuracy of the descriptions advancedKanizsa has sought to uphold our common-sense understanding of the opposition between thought on the one hand and perception on the other. Cognitive theorists from Helmholtz onwards have, as is well known, done their best to eliminate this opposition from psychological theory by conceiving perception as a form of thought, as involving one or other variety of 'unconscious inferences'. 26 Kanizsa is willing to grant that perception and thought are, in a certain sense, only abstractly distinguishable dimensions of that complex process which is the interaction of a conscious subject with its environment (to this extent he agrees also with the members of the Berlin school). But he does not admit that this sanctions a running together of the two, and nor, a fortiori, does it sanction their confusion. Perception does undoubtedly involve cognitive aspects: we perceive reds and greens, swallows and tulips, not raw data lacking all categorization. But there is something like a raw cue nonetheless (retinal stimulation is involved in visual perception), and then the question arises as to the precise nature of the processes involved in passing from this raw cue to the organized, categorized objects we actually perceive. We want to establish, that is to say, the processes which are involved when the optical system transforms an unrelated set of elements (which theoretically could be unified in an infinite number of ways) into a certain number of segregated units with precise spatial and temporal relationships of similarity, size, functional dependence, and so on (1979a, p.5) For the fact that we can talk of organization and categorization here does not by any means imply that we are dealing with processes identical to those processes of 'classifying, analyzing, forming hypotheses, verifying them, and making decisions' that are involved in thinking proper (op. cit. , p.3). One can indeed demonstrate experimentally that the optical system has its own peculiar means of processing and organizing the proximal data and Kanizsa here points specifically to a range of processes of what 30 might be called 'perceptual interpolation' , processes taking place within the optical system itself 'of totalization, of completion, of integration, of "filling in the gaps" that is, of making present that which is absent' (op.cit., p.6), which take place prior to or independently of the properly cognitive processes of inference, comparison and categorization. Such perceptual interpolation may be either modal or amodal, i.e. the filled in parts may either 'have the characteristics of visual modality and [be] phenomenally indistinguishable from those that have a counterpart in the stimuli', as for example in certain types of stroboscopic movement, or they may enjoy a 'perceptual existence ... that is not verified by any sensory modality' (loc.cit.). The classic examples of such amodal completion are effects such as those of the tunnel studied by Albert Michotte and his followers. 27 But amodal completion is involved, for example, in figure-ground segmentation, a fundamental fact in the construction of the phenomenal world, in which the articulation always implies the completion (precisely amodal) of the continuous background existing behind the figure. And not only does every phenomenal object taken as a figure appear against a background amodally present behind it; it also possesses, phenomen ally , its own back side. Although not visible, this posterior part is nonetheless phenomenally present. Indeed, this part does not have an arbitrary form that can be modified by the imagination (Tampieri 1956). Moreover, every phenomenal object seen three-dimensionally has an interior. This, too, is a real phenomenal presence ("encountered" , not simply "imagined"), even if amodal. (Loc. cit. ) The process of interpolation on the part of the optical system must therefore be considered not as a special case but rather as the norm of visual perception. Why, now, must we accept, with Kanizsa, that the 'logic' of these processes is not the same as the logic that the mind employs in making inferences? It is here that Kanizsa's experimental phenomenology comes into its own. By opposing cases where perceptual interpolation takes place where we directly see the completions that have come about with cases of otherwise almost identical figures where it is cognitive interpolation that is demanded, Kanizsa is able to show that the concepts of 'complete' and 'incomplete' (or e.g. of 'completable' and 'incompletable', of 'possible' and 'impossible') are quite different according to whether we are dealing with directly given perceptual phenomena or with the results of cognitive processing. 31 §6. Causality, Emotions and Gestalt Linguistics 6.1 An opposition very similar to that investigated by Kanizsa is present also in our experience of causality. Thus there are cases where we see, directly, a causal connection between one event and another, and other, quite different sorts of cases where such connection is inferred in properly cognitive processes. The perception of causality, too, has been investigated by Gestalt psychologists, most especially by Albert Michotte in Louvain, another thinker under the influence of both the Graz and Berlin schools, and it is to his work that we must now tum. Michotte's experiments, too. rest on a surprisingly simple idea, but one which has important consequences for our understanding of the ways in which objectual structures are encountered in perception. One starts with two small coloured rectangles A and B which are moved in sequence behind a horizontal slot, the movements being interrupted in different ways and changed in direction and speed from case to case. Michotte discovered that certain sequences of such movements gave rise to quite specific impressions on the part of the perceiving subject. The latter may, for example, have an impression that A causes B to move, that A is going towards B, that A is pursuing B, that A joins and unites itself to B, that A bumps B, chases or repels B ,goes to find B, throws B, and so on. Events of this kind Michotte calls "functional connections" 'in order to stress that one actually sees some change occurring in an object "in function" of another' . (Michotte 1950b, p.129 of reprint) As in the case of Kanizsa's phenomena of perceptual interpolation, so also here, the 'seeing' involved is amodalno specific sensory stimuli are involved yet it is nonetheless a direct perceptual experience, a matter of immediate 'encounter'. Michotte's experiments and the experiments of his followers show that such apprehension of 'causality' is not a result of cognitive processing in the standardly accepted sense, and nor is it a reflection of meanings or expectations learned through association or experience. The relevance of Michotte' s work to Humean theories of causality will be obvious. Michotte demonstrates the baselessness ofHume's assertion that causality is not perceived, by revealing the precise conditions under which there occur perceptions of a range of different types of causality (as also of materiality, permanence, etc.).28We do not see the one ball cause the other to move either because we intuitively apprehend a fact of nature or because past experience leads us to see the event in this way, but 32 because the specific spatio-temporal organisation is such that it directly unleashes this impression in us. The perception of causality and of functional connections in general may be extremely sensitive even to slight changes e.g. in speed or duration of contact between the objects involved, and we are in fact dealing here with a family of quite specific varieties of Gestalt structure, instances of which are found not only in the artificial circumstances of Michotte's slots and moving rectangles but also in the perceptual world of everyday experience. This leads, however, to a crucial extrapolation of the initial idea. For perceptual Gestalt structures of the given sort can be shown to embrace also certain features characteristic of emotional phenomena. As Michotte himself points out, in certain of his experiments the subjects provided more than mere objective descriptions of the form 'A moves towards B' etc., but manifested a tendency to complete these indications by comparisons with human or animal actions, comparisons which implied emotional states, attitudes, tendencies attributed to the objects. The letters A and B did not then signify the little rectangles as such, but took on the value of names of persons, and the experiments gave rise to interpretations of this nature: 'It is as though B was afraid when A approached, and ran off'; or 'A joins B, then they fall out, have a quarrel, and B goes off by himself; or again 'It is like a cat coming up to a mouse and suddenly springing on it and carrying it off. ' (1950b, p. 130) Michotte argues that such perceptually given phenomena throw light on the Gestalt character of actual human emotions. For our awareness of such emotions is of course based on perceptions of facial and bodily movements, or of the relative movements of human beings interacting together. Thus when A moves towards B this may tend to give the impression of emotionally positive relations; when A moves away from B this may tend to give the impression of relations of a negative sort. Rapid movement leads to the attribution of emotions of a violent nature, a sudden slackening of speed to the attribution of hesitation or indecision, sudden variations of direction to the attribution of nervousness or agitation, and so on. The relative movement can also depending on the speed of approach, duration of contact etc. -lead to the attribution of a violent clash, of striking or simple touching, of anger, of agreement followed by separation, of violent carrying off, and so on. Closely related ideas concerning the 'attribution' of emotions on the 33 basis of perceived relations have been developed also by Fritz Heider, Meinong's last doctoral student in Graz, who was, like Michotte, influenced by the work of the Berlin school. Heider in fact uses such ideas as the basis for a psychology of interpersonal relations. (See his 1958.) He points out in particular that our perception of emotions is allied to our perception of causality in the fact that both involve structures of the same sort, manifesting on the one hand kernels, centres or origins, and 011 the other hand dependent or reactive or passive parts. The dependent or inferior levels in perception then have the causal character of mediation: they serve the function of assisting our cognition of the superior elements. The dependent elements (persons) are given as having the character of being moved by the active parts. H. H. Kelley, in particular (see his 1971), has developed the theory of attribution in the direction of a taxonomy of the different kinds of causal attributions that are involved in our constitution of the animate and inanimate world. 6.2 Natural language, now, has developed precisely in reflection of the need to express such attributions in relation to those basic varieties of action and connection in the world which people our experience. This suggests that it might be possible to use a taxonomy of the most common and of the most primitive types of attribution as the foundation for a theory of the semantic structures of the corresponding utterances. This idea has been pursued, on the basis of the writings of the great French topologist Rene Thorn, first of all by Jean Petitot and then by Wolfgang Wildgen. Their works suggest an account oflanguage which, in contrast to the more narrowly logical approaches to semantics of recent times, has the capacity to embrace within a single framework also the cognitive and perceptual processes associated with our acts of language use. The topological basis of Thorn's morphodynamic theory suggests that it is possible to do justice within this framework to, for example, both continuous and non-continuous phenomena of linguistic change and variation. Thus Petitot (1984) has used Thorn's ideas to generate a provocative taxonomy of the types of transitions that occur when mere noise is heard as meaningful sound.29 The Thomists embrace explicitly a theory of Gestalt linguistics, as contrasted with the 'linear' models of more orthodox semantics which are seen as resting too narrowly on the notion of concatenation. 30 The theory takes as its starting point a three-level structure of (i) uses oflanguage, (ii) associated experiences, and (iii) objects, events or processes in the world 34 to which these experiences relate. Consider, to take a first and very crude example, that pattern which is involved in our use of a transitive verb of action in a sentence like' A hits B'. This same pattern is somehow present also, one might reasonably suggest, in our experience of A's hitting B. And it is present further in the momentary objectual configuration of A and B itself, which makes the given sentence true. That we are not dealing with simple concatenations of elements on this third level is clear (it is not as if A, B, and the hit would be compounded together in any merely summative fashion). Rather, we have a specific Gestalt, constituted out of two stable and enduring entities (agent and patient), and a peculiar transitory dynamic structure that holds between them. But simple concatenation is not present either surface appearances to the contrary in the linguistic and cognitive or experiential encodings of this objective Gestalt. Thus that moment of the sentence' A hits B' which is expressed by 'hits' is not a simple detachable unity, but a complex repository of semantic information around which the sentence as a whole is built. Thom's morphodynamics is a theory which provides a mathematical means for generating a taxonomy (morphology) of the different kinds of stability and instability which dynamic structures may involve. This taxonomy can be exploited as a means of providing an arsenal of abstract patterns or 'propositional archetypes' to be employed in semantic analysis. These propositional archetypes are realized by different languages in different ways, sometimes via cases or via prepositions, sometimes lexically, sometimes via a mixture of all of these . Yet one can assume that all natural languages and all associated systems of cognitive/perceptual processing will have some means of bringing to realization at least the most basic archetypes, since these correspond to the most commonly encountered structures of actions and events in the world of experience. The advantage of Thom's work for these purposes is that his theory is a morphological, that is to say a qualitative theory. As Wildgen points out, it furnishes us with a range of 'very rough and qualitative pictures of natural processes' (1982, p.24) which are yet amenable to mathematical treatment. 31 Thus the theory distinguishes between stable entities (points, or regions) and discontinuities or catastrophes of different sorts which may connect these stable entities together or represent a move from one to the other. Stable entities in the sphere of linguistic Gestalten are, for example, pronouns, nouns, names; in the sphere of experienced structures they are, for example, individuals, natural kinds, enduring 35 states. Catastrophes in the sphere of linguistic Gestalten are 'verbs and other expressions designating the kernel of a Gestalt (relational terms, terms with strong valence)' (op.cit., p.26); in the sphere of cognized structures they are for example events (changes of state, position, quality) and actions. If we examine, now, the various primitive ways (involving at most two agents) in which stable entities and catastrophes may be interrelated, then this gives rise or so Thom argues to sixteen basic Gestalten: every process described by linguistic means refers to domains in space-time, bounded by catastrophic hypersurfaces which playa privileged role: these are the agents [actants] of the process ... if two such agents interact, we must suppose that their domains of existence come into contact in a beach of catastrophe points ... [such that] the interaction ... corresponds to one of the sixteen archetypal morphologies given in the table below (quoted by Wildgen 1982, p. 3ot.). We can illustrate some of the basic Gestalten in this table, in a somewhat simple-minded manner, as follows: (1) to be: (Stable existence, no catastrophe of any kind: no creation, no destruction.) (2) to end: (Stable existence followed/terminated by one catastrophic change.) (3) to begin: (Stable existence preceded/initiated by one catastrophic change.) (4) to change: (Sudden departure from one stable domain and entry into another.) 36 (5) to capture: (Here there are two stable domains, an agent and a patient, and a single catastrophe consisting in the destruction of the latter, its merging into or envelopment within the domain of the former.) (6) to emit, to give birth (reversal of (5» / (12) to give: A B-~~ (Something which is at first caught up within that stable area which is A, moves to a position where it is caught up within that stable area which is B.) The parallels with Michotte here will be obvious. The advantage of Thorn's theoretical approach is that where Michotte had produced merely a somewhat arbitrary listing of 'functional connections' Thorn 'allows us to derive propositional Gestalts from process patterns with the help of systematic principles of interpretation.' (Wildgen 1981, p.810) The idea, now, is to project the restricted number of dynamic schemata revealed by Thorn not merely into the space of linguistic utterances but also into that basic set of experienced structures in the world to which our language-using acts are related, and Wildgen shows how the various basic archetypes can, in combination, be used to represent the structures of a wide range of sentences considered from a series of different perspectives. 32 The interest of Thorn's work from our present point of view is that, in contrast to the too abstractly formal investigations of the Graz school, it provides a material ontology of a range of different types of naturally occurring Gestalten. Moreover, it is not restricted to certain privileged perceptual (or syntactic, or computational) examples, but seems, rather, to be general enough to be able to throw light on the structures of experience in the widest sense, both perceptual and cognitive, both linguistic and non-linguistic. §7. From Graz to Berlin: Kotlka vs. Benussi 7.1 In a series of classic experiments on phenomenal motion carried out in 1912, Wertheimer discovered that when subjects his subjects in the present case were a certain Dr. Kohler and Dr. Koffka are exposed to two alternately flashing lights a short distance apart, then under certain conditions they have an experience of movement back and forth from the one to the other. That is to say, they see a movement: the movement is an object of perception, it is not a purely intellectual product of an act of production. Indeed in certain determinate circumstances one can experience pure phenomenal movement, that is movement without objects moved, what Wertheimer called the 'phi-phenomenon'. The phi-phenomenon is clearly and repeatedly observable. It is no less manifest than for example a colour or shape . Yet clearly, what is perceived is not here a matter of any discrete and independent sensory data: what one perceives is, as Wertheimer says, a certain sui generL~ dynamic character of 'across'. 37 Wertheimer's own initial understanding of the phi-phenomenon seems to have been neurological: phi-phenomena are to be explained in terms of certain functional connections or integrations at the cortical level, functional connections held to be sufficient to provide an explanation in and of themselves, without any appeal to an 'extra brain level' of production or of intellectual processing as on a Graz-type production theory. This idea of cerebral integration signifies a final break with the atomistic sensationalism which had still made itself felt in the work of Ehrenfels, Meinong, Benussi and their followers. Wertheimer's experiments make it clear that it is not the case that to every part of a perceived structure there corresponds one or more sensory datum which could in principle be experienced in isolation. What we perceive are, rather, complex Gestalten, only some of whose parts bear a certain analogy to the putative discrete and independent data of sense which had formed the basis of the earlier theories. Wertheimer does not, however, express this theory in any systematic way in his paper on motion of 1912. He merely 'sketches a hypothesis' (§21). Nor does he exploit his theory as a starting point from which to criticize in detail other work on phenomenal motion in such a way as to set into relief the peculiarities of the new approach. It is in fact in a paper by Koffka of 1915, a paper which has been described as 'the birth piece of Gestalt theory as a psychological system' (Ash 1982, p.338), that this theoretical and critical work is first laid bare. The paper in question is an extensive critique of the views on phenomenal motion of the Graz production theory, particularly as presented in the work of Benussi, together with the presentation of the alternative theory put forward in outline by Wertheimer. Benussi, as we have seen, holds that Gestalt perception involves senseactivity plus a special psychic operation. Different Gestalten can be founded on the basis of the same inferiora, the latter being the same both as stimulus and as conscious content.33 But in order to counter the objection that the operations of production are not themselves manifested in conscious experience, such operations are held by Benussi to occur automatically with the experience in sensation of the underlying foundations. 34 To this extent, however; their very existence eludes introspective verification and, as Koffka argues, they threaten to become theoretically idle. Koffka's principal challenge however relates to the putative 'purely 38 sensory experiences' to which appeal is made in Benussi's theory. Do we real1y, Koffka asks, have such pure sense experiences-for example when we see merely individual points in an array of colour in such a way that the particular order or configuration of the points would not be inc1uded in the seeing? Surely not, he argues (Koffka 1915, p.24); but from this it follows that the very idea of Gestalt ambiguity, the idea that there can be a multiplicity of Gestalten on the basis of constant sensory data, must also be rejected. For what could be the evidence that sensory data is constant, given that the sensory material is present only within the Gestalt? What could be the evidence of constant material of sensation when the supervenient Gestalt is itself allowed to change? Koffka conc1udes that it is a mere assumption of constancy of the constancy hypothesis on Benussi's part which justifies the given c1aim. (Op.cit., pp.25ff.) Only if the process of Gestalt formation were suppressed could one observe whether the underlying material stays constant but then no Gestalt would have been formed. Koffka argues further that ambiguity cannot be a criterion of Gestalt perception, as Benussi had argued. For even sensory data, e. g. a redness, can be more or less dark or light, more or less warm or cold, more or less penetrating, more or less tinged with yellow or tinged with blue, and so on, in the sense that the same observer might see it under the same external conditions now in this way, now in that. (Op. cit., p.29) These are of course fine differences compared to the differences involved in Gestalt perception, but this shows only that as Benussi himself was later to accept the distinction between univocity and ambiguity is a gradual one. It does not mark any categorial difference between different species of experiential object. Most important from our present point of view, however, is Koffka's analysis of the relation between stimulus and observer. Benussi, and indeed the entire Ehrenfels-Meinong tradition, had seen stimuli as something objective, an external given of psychological theory. Koffka, however, insists that the characteristic of a real object or physical process which consists in its being a stimulus is not any absolute property of the object or process as it is in itself, but rests always on its relation to the subject or sentient organism. More precisely, it rests on a specific state of readiness or mental set on the latter's part. 35 But now, if a real object is a stimulus only in relation to an organism and some specific mental set, then it will turn out that it can serve either as sensory stimulus or as Gestalt stimulus from case to case. 39 7.2 Benussi's own view of these matters may be represented, somewhat crudely, as follows: 36 act of production I _____ I Diagram 1. sensory presentation sensory presentation sensory presentation sensory datum sensory datum sensory datum Gestalt This diagram ignores both the underlying objects or objective conditions and also the subject or organism upon which acts of production and presentation are in every case dependent; yet it still contains much of what we need to know about the core of Benussi's theory. Thus it tells us that the act of production and the experienced Gestalt stand in a relation of mutual dependence: neither can exist without the other. The act of production is unilaterally dependent on the sensory presentations which underlie it, as the Gestalt is itself unilaterally present on the sensory data which these presentations are presentations of, presentations and data themselves being such as to stand to each other in a relation of two-sided dependence: neither can exist without the other. In Koffka, on the other hand, we have a picture which (in a highly simplified form) might be represented as follows: Diagram 2. 40 state of organism ('set') sensory sensory I datum L _____ _ , presentation I L---I----.J I I I I sensory I=====~ sensory I presentation I I datum L ___ [ __ ~ L ____ _ I I I sensory presentation sensory datum Here there is no additional entity alongside the sensory data, to which appeal would be made in order to account for the fact that the relevant sensory presentations contribute to the experience of a structured phenomenon. For Koffka holds that the manifold of sensory data themselves, as these are reticulated together in a certain way in the given context, is itself the Gestalt. Moreover, the reticulation of these data reflects -and is a consequence of -an (isomorphic?) interdependence among the corresponding sensory presentations. In place of Benussi's extra brain level -the process of production the Gestalt experience is here constituted by a short-circuiting, a mutual integration, on the primary level of sensory experience (here represented somewhat crudely in terms of a cumulative dependence of successive presentations), with a parallel integration on the side of the successively given data. The interdependence of the successive presentations is, like these presentations themselves, dependent on the state of the organism in question. For the precise nature of the physiological integration that occurs in any given case will be dependent on the relevant mental set. This is itself not a bloodless abstractum but a complex of physiologically grounded states exhibiting dimensions of variation of its own. Such states will, we might suppose, reflect materially determinate knowledge and habits of mind acquired by the organism in question, which may be further dependent on social factors, institutions, authorities, language, and so on. Of course, when dealing with the Wertheimer-Koffka position we should not speak at all of 'sensory presentations' or 'sensory data' but always rather of activity at the cortical and peripheral ends of sensory nerves. Moreover, when dealing with this position we have always to remember that there is built into the theory the possibility that all the constituent frames should become rolled into one. For the various mutually dependent factors are only abstractly distinguishable, so that we ought more properly to speak of one single physiological-perceptual total process. Certainly this process manifests contours and dividing lines within itself; but it may still be abstractly delineated into part-processes in a number of different ways. Thus we might take the state of the organism together with the organism itself as constituting one single whole, intervening between perceived data and acts of perception. One could then interpret Koffka's view as one according to which the organism is a mediator between perceptual process an inextricable fusion of sensory and intellectual part-processes-and perceived Gestalt, in such a way that 41 perception, organism, and percept would each be gestaltet in different but mutually complementary ways. But what, now, is the perceived Gestalt on a theory such as this? It is, first of all, an integral whole which includes among its parts the putative sensory data experienced 'integrally' together. But this perceived Gestalt can be conceived also as including certain parts, surfaces or moments of the relevant object. Hence the latter need not be confined to the status of an optional extra beyond the domain of what can be experienced, as on the Brentano-Meinong-Benussi approach. Koffka, like Wertheimer, is indeed quite clear that perception is of real objects in the material world. The Gestalt concept belongs not to the abstract level of idealities, as on the Graz theory, but is rather a concept which, like causality, is basic to the sciences of the real: To apply the category of cause and effect means to find out which parts of nature stand in this relation. Similarly, to apply the gestalt category means to find out which parts of nature belong as parts to functional wholes, to discover their position in these wholes, their degree of relative independence, and the articulation of larger wholes into sub-wholes. (1935, p.22)37 There are, then, Gestalten in reality. It had been an implication of the Graz view of produced Gestalten that everything that is complex in reality, insofar as it is non-produced (not a matter of 'objects of higher order') would be a matter of mere summative wholes or 'UndVerbindungen'. Koffka rejects this view resoundingly. (1915, p.35) He himself is still primarily interested in Gestalt processes and structures in the physiological domain; indeed he argues that intellectual acts of production would themselves have to be processes of this sort. But then later he will recognize that there are Gestalt processes also in the realm of human action, above all in motor actions, speaking, writing, singing, sketching. These are not step-wise sums of behavioural elements, but unified Gestalt processes whose structures can be adequately understood only as such. (Op.cit., p.37. )38 The thesis that there are real Gestalten was later refined and generalized in Kohler's work on physical Gestalten of 1920, which defends in great detail the view that there are Gestalten even in the world of inanimate nature. In summary we can say that the content of a perceptual presentation, for Koffka, is a function of various factors, including both objective 42 (stimulus-like) and subjective (setor Einstellung-like) factors. And 'ambiguity' for Koffka. signifies merely: dependence on many rather than on a few such factors. 7.3 It has sometimes been assumed that Koffka simply got the better of BenussL and that his review constituted the nail in the coffin of the (,raz theory. This is first of all to belie the continuing influence of Grazist ideas, as for example in the work of Heider, Michotte, Buhler and others. as well as in the \vork of the Italian psychologists. Secondly however there are a number of ways in which Benllssi might reply to Koffka 's challenge. Thus for example Koftla criticizes Benussi's theory by arguing that the idea of acts of production is a spurious one: it is not open to us simply to subtract what is yiL'lded by the senses from what is yielded in total Gestalt perception and then baptize the not introspectively available remainder as a special. non-sensory act . Yet Benllssi Gill point out that the acts to which he himself appeals are at least no more mystical than the hidden states of Koffka's theon'. Benussi himself. it is true. cannot exhihit an act of production, since he is concerned to stress that thl'l'e is no phenomenological difference between Ciestalt presentations and sensory presentations (1914a, p.4()~): production is in effect a purely functional notion. This is not the only possible approach however. Thlls acts of production involve. for example, collection, articulation. completion, comparison. ;lIld phenomena of this kind have been i nvestigated in detail by Husser!' especially in his6th Logical Investigation which deals \vith higher order intellectual operations of va rio liS sorts. Further. as we have already seen in ollr discussion of Kanizsa above. the opposition bet\veen perceptual and intellectual operations which lies at the heart of Benllssi's theory can still yield interesting and fruitful empirical results. and we should be no more willing to accept that running together of these t\VO types of operation (in favollrof perception) which is favoured hy the Berlin theory in some of its guises. than to accept the opposite running together -the assimilation of perception to cognition ~ which is favoured by f Iclmholtz and also by modern-day proponents of a computat ional 'cognitivc scicnce*. §8. From Prague to Berlin: Stumpf and Wertheimer 8.1 Wertheimer, Kohler, Koffka and Lewin, the four principal members of the Berlin school, all studied with Stumpf in Berlin, and all but Wertheimer received their doctorates for experimental work done under his direction. It has sometimes been suggested that Stumpf left his doctoral students very much to their own devices and that he therefore had a very minor part in the development of the Berlin Gestalt theory. As Ash makes clear however, Stumpf did not merely play an important institutional role in fostering the careers of his various Gestaltist students (thereby exerting a not always discrete influence on the nature and content of their work); he also provided a thorough initiation into psychological methods and a hard training, which were meted out to his students always with an explicit philosophical intent. When his "Psychological Seminar" was incorrectly described by the Ministry in Berlin as a "Seminar for Experimental Psychology" , Stumpf complained that he had specifically suggested the former name ... 'to avoid giving the impression that only experimental work is planned, when I am also planning to link such work to theoretical exercises in philosophy'. [Stumpfs] lectures were entitled 'simply psychology' and not 'experimental psychology' for the same reason. The narrower designation, Stumpf feared, could keep talented students away and 'instead attract a certain sort of American, whose whole aim is to become Dr. phil. in the shortest possible time with the most mechanical work possible'. (Ash 1982, p.47) Stumpfs attitude to experiment had been derived from his teacher Brentano and especially from the latter's insistence on the secondary status of genetic psychology in relation to the fundamental discipline of descriptive psychology. Stumpf however went much further than Brentano in the direction of Gestalt-theoretical ideas. Thus already in 1873 Stumpf had been ready to conceive individual mental acts as mere abstractions from total conscious processes, and he had from the very beginning laid great emphasis on the phenomena of fusion (insisting, for example, that simultaneous tone sensations are never mere sums, but always wholes manifesting only gradual phenomenal differences). Further, he saw the fusion that exists in the aural sphere not as the result of any deliberate act of unifying together but rather as an immanent structural relation in the tones themselves. All of these aspects of his work cannot but have been conducive to the 44 development of a theoretical integration ism on the part of his students. Stumpf did not, however, greet all the integrationist excesses of his students with equal enthusiasm. He insisted that his Gestaltist students tended to ignore the discursive, cognitive aspects of Gestalt perception and to concentrate too much on those cases where Gestalt perception occurs spontaneously and 'in one glance'. (1939/40, p.237) Further, he objected to the Gestaltist idea that Gestalten can have effects on their parts (an idea which had been adopted by the Gestaltists as a consequence of their principle that 'only that is real which has effects'). It is a mistake in ontology to suppose that the whole can exert a causal influence upon its parts, Stumpf insisted, and the parts, can just as little have an effect on the whole: it is always only parts which have an effect on parts. (Op.cit., pp.245f.) 8.2 The early development of the thinking of Kohler and Koffka has been dealt with in detail by Ash, and can therefore be passed over here. We must, however, say something about the early background of Wertheimer. This is first of all because it is he who, of all the members of the Berlin school, had the most philosophically interesting ideas. But it is also because, as already mentioned, Wertheimer constitutes an important link between Austrian philosophy and German psychology, having grown up in Prague, where he attended the lectures of Ehrenfels _and also of the Brentanians Marty and Arleth. There were of course other influences on Wertheimer's early thinking, and some of these may have played a role in his development of the Gestalt idea. Prague, as is well known, has a distinguished tradition of Jewish scholarship and there is a suggestion that Wertheimer himself is descended from a line of Talmudists, including among them the Talmudic scholar Rabbi Samson R. Wertheimer (1651-1724), who was Court Factor in the Austrian Imperial court. 39 Part and parcel of Wertheimer's non-orthodox Jewish background in Prague was his youthful enthusiasm for Spinoza and as Luchins has suggested, some of the ideas in Spinoza's Ethics seem to be reflected in Wertheimer's writing and teaching about non-additive wholes as wel1 as in Wertheimer's objections to psychological theories in which will and feeling were opposed to thinking, and in which the mind was a separate entity and was opposed to the body (unpublished n.lOto Luchins 1982: see also (and perhaps more reliably) Ash 1982, p.247). This unity of mind and body in Wertheimer's thinking is well illustrated 45 by the following passage from Fritz Heider's autobiography, in which Heider comments on a seminar of Wertheimer's dealing with physiognomic characters, and with expression, another notion central to Spinoza: 'each person has a certain quality that Wertheimer called his radix ... This quality will express itself in different ways: in his physiognomy, in his handwriting; in the way he dresses, moves about, talks, and acts; and also in the way he thinks' (1984, p.46f.). Especially interesting is Wertheimer's 'physiognomic game ... : he would playa melody, and the rest of us would try to guess which of the group his melody portrayed'. (Op.cit., p.89.) For in extemporizing the music which would represent the character ('radix') of a particular person, Wertheimer would take into account not merely the physiognomy of the ptuson in question, but also the contrastive relations in which he stood to other persons in the room. The musical representation of some averagely quiet and withdrawn character which would enable one to pick him out in, say, a room full of extroverts, will be quite different from that representation which would be needed were he surrounded by people still more withdrawn than himself. The German University in Prague could look back on a rich psychological tradition, beginning with the phenomenological work on colour vision of Purkinje and Hering and extending through Stumpf himself (who was professor in Prague from 1879 to 1884, before moving to Halle where he came into contact with Hussed). 40 Mach also belonged to this tradition, having been professor of experimental physics in Prague for 27 years to 1895. It included Ehrenfels and the orthodox Brentanians Marty, Arleth and Oskar Kraus, together also with Kafka's friends Hugo Bergmann and Emil U titz. 41 And Einstein, too, held a chair in Prague for a time, becoming friendly with Hugo Bergmann42 and later with Wertheimer himself, their interactions being manifested above all in Wertheimer's book Productive Thinking. Wertheimer was caught up to a greater or lesser extent in all of these currents. There is evidence in his papers that he became interested also in the writings of Hussed, particularly of the latter's 3rd Logical Investigation on the theory of part, whole and dependence,43 and he maintained throughout his life a characteristically Hussedian interest in the realist foundations of logic and in the relations between logical laws and the flux of actual mental events involved in thinking.44 46 §9. The Veridicality of Perception The objects we perceive exhibit structures and properties that are not indigenous to the world as it is in itself. As we have seen, the Gestalten given in perception may be characterized by both inadequacy and incompleteness. Consider, for example, the two horizontal lines of the Miiller-Lyer illusion. These are objectively of equal length, but they are experienced as being such that one is shorter than the other, so that there is a discrepancy between the structure we experience, the perceived Gestalt, and the underlying autonomous objectual formation. We can say that, ignoring differences of mental set and of environmental conditions, the perceived Gestalt is dependent both upon the experiencing subject on the one hand and upon the autonomous formation on the other, a state of affairs we might represent as follows: Diagram 3. HilI perceived Gestalt ~----------------------~ ~--------------~ subject autonomous formation Clearly there is a danger, in such an account, that we shall end up with some form of Kantianism, with a view according to which the underlying autonomous formation would cease to play a role as an object of cognition but would rather dissolve away into an unknowable thing in itself.45 Such a view, which confines the perceiving subject to a windowless prison where he can grasp at most 'intentional' or 'notional' objects, was indeed held by some members of the Gestaltist tradition. We have already however encountered another view, present in one form or another for example in Gibson, as already in Wertheimer and in Koffka (by whom Gibson was influenced), according to which Gestalten are to different degrees transparent: they do not block out all autonomous properties of the objectual structures on which they depend, but rather overlap materially with these objects (or indeed in some cases include them as parts). Hence to be involved with the perceived Gestalt is thereby also, willy nilly, to be involved with parts or moments of the underlying object. Indeed, the very fact that perceptual illusions affect only a certain limited set of features of the phenomenal world suggests that most experienced Gestalten are to a high degree transparent in this sense. 47 Moreover, even in cases of non-transparency we can embed an objectual formation into a larger whole for example we can embed the two figures of the Muller-Lyer illusion into a complex involving movements of the hand and the laying on of rulers in such a way as to make initially opaque properties ofthe original formation directly and transparently accessible as parts or moments of the resulting total Gestalt. 46 Indeed one could say that the process of measurement, which enables us directly to determine a large range of properties of objectual formations, is in fact nothing other than the embedding of an object within a larger structure in such a way as to increase the degree of transparency of perceptual Gestalten of specific sorts. Not only measurement, however, but also perception in general involves Gestalten which are transparent in this sense. This implies that the world that is given in perception, that complex of perceived Gestalten which is associated with each individual conscious life, does not merely stand to the physical world in a network of functional dependence relations (of the sort which exist in those special circumstances which are simulated in the various classical perceptual illusions), but is in fact to a large extent coincident or co-continuous with the world as it is in itself. There is of course another, parallel relation, no less crucial to the Berlin theory, the relation between psychological phenomena and the brain events which underlie them. Kohler, in particular, has contributed to our understanding of this relation, advancing a thesis to the effect that both psychological events and the associated physiology have structures and that there is an isomorphism between these structures. This thesis is interesting and challenging in its own right. Here, however, it is the externally directed structural relation that I should like to discuss, i.e. that relation between the geographical and the phenomenal world which is involved in veridical perception. It is above all Wertheimer who has developed this notion and who has been most sensitive to the implication that we should investigate the conditions of the field and of the perceiver that produce correspondence or non-correspondence between perceptions and segments of the world. Kohler's hypothesis of interior isomorphism leads not to investigations of this sort, but rather to work on the identification of the structural processes in the brain that are relevant to perceptual experience. 47 Outside the specific context of his work on isomorphism, however, Kohler too manifests all the sympathies of the realist. Thus consider the following passage in which Kohler critices Kant on the grounds that: 48 If ... certain formal principles are found to be prerequisites of science it does not follow that they belong to the structure of the mind. There remains the other possibility that, to some degree at least, they are inherent in the 'material'. The validity of Kant's theory depends altogether upon his assumption that, in the 'material', there is no basic principle of order. (1938, p.43) Kohler's realist sympathies reveal themselves also in his treatment of the perception of causality in the Psychologische Probleme of 1933. Thus when I drink a glass of beer I experience both a characteristic taste and a characteristic feeling of enjoyment. 'Must I first of all learn that the enjoyment has something to do with the taste? That it has nothing to do with the spider on the wall?' Clearly not. I experience the enjoyment as the natural, appropriate and immediate result of the taste. Similarly, I do not need to learn that this or that action or attitude (say anger) is the natural and appropriate response to a situation of this or that kind. And now, as Kohler writes, his considerations of such relations move close to the ideas of the 'act psychology' of Brentano, Stumpf, Husser!, and others, without however it being the case that that moment with which we are presently concerned is drawn attention to by the proponents of this psychology. It belongs to an 'act' that it has an object. This has often been repeated, but thereby it was not at all the case that there was addressed the problem of the organization of the total field. Thus there remained at least unformulated the idea that the immediate givenness of such a connection of precisely this specific act with this object there, in this manner excludes from the start an atomistic treatment of the field whole and signifies in every case quite specific articulation of the total field. The explanation for this certainly lies in the fact that one was aiming for the sharpest possible conceptual separation of all acts from all objectual material (that is to say for a classification). (1933a, p.228f.) Gibson moved on from ideas such as this, ideas which see intentionality and truth as being themselves Gestalt relations of certain sorts, to a position which allows also the bodily behaviour of the subject to count as an irreducible factor in the structure of perception. Standing in that Gestalt relation to an object which is veridical perception is now quite explicitly a dynamic matter, a matter of our maintaining ourselves in that ecological niche which allows us to join up with the object in real relational contact. 4R §10. Edwin Rausch: The Ontological Morphology of Gestalten , Das Lied von den Ganzen und den Teilen Das Ganze und die Teile Die hatten grossen Streit, Wer wohl das Friih're ware In Logik, nicht in Zeit. Es sprachen keck die Teile: "'Wir setzen dich zusamm Und nirgends gibt es Ganze, Die keine Teile hamm." Voll Pathos rief das Ganze: "Pfui, dass, ihr noch nicht wisst, Dass jeder von Euch Teilen Kraft meiner Ganzheit ist." Ein Logiker der hort es Und sprach: "Der Streit ist schief, Denn keines ist das Friih're, Ihr seid korrelativ. " (From Ausgewahlte Miseskreislieder, by Felix Kaufmann.) 10.1 Gestalt psychology mayor may not be capable of explaining our perception of what is complex. There remains, however, the independent task of describing the structures involved in such perception and the various relations of ontological, genetic and functional dependence bound up therewith, and many of the experimental results and theoretical contributions of the Gestalt psychologists can be seen as fundamentally important contributions to the carrying out of this descriptive task. This was recognized already by Stumpf, but the most sophisticated contributions to the enterprise of reconstituting Gestalt theory as a descriptive science have been made by the German psychologist Edwin Rausch, foremost surviving member of the Berlin school, in a remarkable series of essays begun in 1937.49 Here I shall concentrate principally on the implications of Rausch's paper on "The Problem of Properties in the Gestalt Theory of Perception" published in German in 1966, a paper whose particular interest here turns on the fact that it seeks a compromise between the Graz and Berlin theories 50 precisely on the basis of a reconsideration of the ideas in Ehrenfels' essay of 1890.50 Ehrenfels, as we have seen, wanted to understand 'Gestalt' in terms of a special kind of attribute of certain phenomenal wholes or complexes. Rausch, in contrast, takes 'complex' as a determinable concept with 'Gestalt' as one of its determinates: a Gestalt is, as always on the Berlin theory, a special kind of whole. Ehrenfels' ideas are not simply abandoned hereby however. For a complex, in order to be a Gestalt, must have certain special characteristics;51 that is, it must possess precisely certain 'Gestalt qualities' which now, however, are not supernumerary entities, as on the Ehrenfels view, existing alongside or above the separable fundamenta. Gestalt qualities are, rather, conceived by Rausch as being in a certain sense intrinsic to the Gestalt which has them. Moreover, Gestalt qualities are merely one special type of wholeor complex-quality. Other complex-qualities might be, for example, the quality of being a one-dimensional continuum, the quality of being a purely summative whole, or in the manner of Stumpf some other formally or materiaJIy specific quality between these two extremes. 52 We shall indeed talk not of complex-qualities but rather of (non-distributive) properties of wholes in general (of properties which are such that they hold only of wholes as wholes: they do not distribute to the several parts, as does, say, the property of being extended, or of being made of inorganic material). 53 Armed with this general view of Gestalt qualities as special kinds of whole-properties and of Gestalten as special kinds of wholes, we can now begin to see that Ehrenfels' own original theory already contains within itself the material for this generalization along Rauschian lines. For consider a simple Gestalt structure consisting of, say, three elements e), e2, e3 and some quality g. This we can represent as follows: Diagram 4. [A] 51 I . I,' I ; But we can also , as Ehrenfels (and Stumpf and BusserJ) acknowledged, conceive the property g as a three-term relation ('unifying moment') holding between the given elements, somewhat as follows: Diagram 5. [B] with correspondingly more complex transformations where we have to deal with higher order Gestalt structures, with structures involving phenomenal fusion or continuity, and so on. 54 This possibility of transition from property to relation and back again shows itself not only when we go from parts (and the relations between them) to wholes (and their properties), but also when we remain with the parts. Under certain circumstances namely when some one given part overwhelms its relata we can describe a relation between parts as a property of some one given member. Suppose, for example, that light is reflected by the surface of an object A in the direction of an observer B. We may in certain circumstances choose to describe this relation simply as a property of shininess in A. Similarly in cases where some given agent is described as being 'powerful' or 'threatening' , when he is in fact powerful or threatening only in relation to one or other group of his fellows. The total field of ego plus environment, too, can be conceived either as a relation or as a property, and then either of the ego or of the environment , and the same considerations can be carried over also to the relation of figure and ground on the side of the object , which can be described either in the form of a relation (of the figure to the ground) or of a property of either. Considerations such as this, when carried over to the material sphere, will allow us to generate a taxonomy of wholeproperties, distinguishing, for example, between 52 structure-properties (properties of order and construction) such as symmetrical, rising ,falling, closed, texture-properties such as soft, rough, matt, transparent , expression-properties, properties of character and feeling such as proud, peaceful, domineering, threatening, and so on. 55 Ehrenfels saw Gestalt qualities as constituting a fixed class of all those entities satisfying given criteria. From our present point of view, however , whether a complex is or is not a Gestalt is a gradual matter. Thus a sequence of tones constitutes a Gestalt to the extent that a melody can be heard in it, and different tone-sequences may have melody qualities to differing degrees. 56 Return, however, to our figures [A] and [B] above. We can now cut the pie again, and conceive quality and elements as together constituting a single whole , complex or Gestalt, whose parts are (again to different degrees from cases to case) only potentially discriminable within it: Diagram 6. r-- --, I g I I I L ____ J [c] It is this possibility, of moving from elements plus property to a single allembracing whole, which explains why there are cases as, again, the melody where we use the same term for both Gestalt wholes and their qualities. 57 The phenomenon of transposability, too, justifies our conceiving the melody and the concrete tone-sequence as more or less equivalent, since we can for most purposes ignore what is peculiar about the particular individual tone-sequence in which a given melody is realized . 5~ Whether we view the whole as a complex of elements with its quality ([ A)), or as elements bound together by a unifying relational moment ([BD, or as a whole within which elements and qualities/relations are 53 distinguishable only abstractly ([CD, is in the end a matter of convenience. Some sorts of examples will call for one description , some for another, in the light of given contexts and purposes. 59 Things do not stop here however. Even in relation to the relatively simple structure so far treated, there is yet another parsing which results when we abstractly imagine the whole [C] as having been once more prised apart, in such a way as to yield three new, qualitatively determined moments, somewhat as follows: Diagram 7. [D] r--l : 81 I L __ ...J r---' I e1 I L __ .-1 r---, l 83 I L __ .J r--' I e I I 3 I L __ ...l That is, just as we conceive the complex whole in [A] as possessing a certain characteristic whole-property, so we can conceive the different parts of this complex as possessing their own characteristic partproperties in virtue of which they come to make up that total whole which is the original Gestalt. Ehrenfels and the Meinongians did not recognize such part-properties (properties holding of given elements in virtue of their serving as foundation for a Gestalt). The crucial ontological step was taken by Wertheimer in his discussions of phenomenal 'roles' or 'functions' which can be predicated exclusively of parts qua parts just as whole-properties can be predicated exclusively of wholes qua wholes. 60 54 10.2 Part-properties may on the one hand be entirely trivial. If I see * * * then there are for example part-properties of being extremal, or of being in the rniddle. Even here, however, a certain complexity can prevail in relation to that larger Gestalt which consists ofthe three asterisks bound <up with me myself as pcrceivingsubject. Within this Gestalt, the extremal asterisks have the dependent relational properties of being to the left and to the right, of being ohjects of my present attention, and so on. Thus even a purely summative whole, to the extent that it is treated by the perceiver (or by a group of perceivers) as a unitary object, is to that extent gestaltet when considered in conjunction with the relevant acts and states of the subjects in question. The three asterisks, as members of this larger Gestalt, like the three members of [D I, are mutually dependent. For even should it be the case that the respective elements are in some sense capable of existing raw, in separation from each other, still, the qualitatively determined Gestalt members are necessarily such that they can exist only in association with each other (consider a tone given in isolation and within the context of a melody). Thus where, according to Ehrenfels, the only dependent properties i.e. the only properties which can gain existence through unification and lose existence through isolation of their carriers are whole-properties, we can now see that part-properties, too, are existentially sensitive in just this sense. But they are existentially sensitive to different degrees. For partproperties include not only the properties of dependent. integrated parts (the character of 'across' in Wertheimer's phi-phenomenon, for example) ~ they include also properties cha racteristic of natllral parts, of parts which manifest a (relative) insensitivity to isolation. One can indeed imagine a morphological theory analogous to Thorn's theory of catastrophes which would classify part-properties according to their stahility and instability when the corresponding wholes are subjected to certain kinds of change. hi A whole made up of natural parts is a \veak Gestalt. h2 The weak coherence helweell parts is balanced by strong coherence H'ilhin parts (and clearly we have to deal here with a complex spectrum of cases). One particularly interesting varietv of weak Gestalten are depcndcflt (,estalten, that is to say. Ciestalten which depend for their existence on our subjective articulations. hI As Koffka puts it: We find the field organization under certain circumstances dependent upon attitudes, i.e., forces which have their origin not in the surrounding field at all, but in the Ego of the observer, a new indication that our task of investigating the surrounding field alone is somewhat artificial, and that we shall understand its organization completely only when we study the total field which includes the Ego within its environment. (Koffka 1935, p.149) Weak dependent Gestalten are most prominent, perhaps, in the sphere of social wholes. Here, however, the job of articulation and integration is carried out not by some external observer but from within, by the members themselves, i.e. by those natural parts of the relevant social whole who are human beings. Such articulation from within will be effected to different degrees by different persons, reflecting the relative predominance of the groups to which they belong within the whole in question. All government and law presupposes Gestalt articulation in this sense, which manifests itself for example in feelings of respect or loyalty on the part of the constituent subjects: they see these and these actions as legitimate actions of state and not for example as the posturings of usurpers. Clearly here, too, there is a spectrum between weak and strong Gestalten, reflecting the extent to which the relevant articulating and integrating habits are well-entrenched among the people or merely imposed upon them from above. 10.3 We must return, however, to our more homely, perceptual examples. Clearly each sequence of notes that is a melody possesses a certain whole-property, each single note (and segment) possesses its own part -property (role, function), the latter being of course not restricted to those cases for which we have names (tonic, dominant, leading note, cadence, trill, etc.) (p.892f.). More important still, however, is the fact that as Ehrenfels comes near to recognizing the discipline of linguistics deals precisely with wholeand part-properties in this sense: properties such as sentence, intonation pattern, subject, verb, object, phoneme, fricative, and so on, and with the relations between them. 64 From Ehrenfels' point of view, a Gestalt quality (whole-property) disappears when we isolate its parts. A thesis of this sort can be formulated also for part-properties, and we can see that it holds (to a degree) only for certain quite specific kinds of 'natural' part (for example of stones in a heap). In no cases however does isolation of parts lead to a mere loss of properties: neither whole-properties nor part-properties are simply added extras which spring into existence at the moment of 56 unification and disappear on isolation. Isolated parts qua isolated have peculiar characteristic features of their own, 'isolation-properties' [EinzelgegenstandseigenschaJten], which depend on the one hand upon the peculiar features of their new environment and on the other hand upon what they bring with them from their environment of 01d. 65 Thus a part that has suffered isolation may manifest itself as being (i) independent and self-contained (this applies only in the case of natural parts) , (ii) incomplete or 'unsaturated', in need of supplementation, (iii) 'lost', homeless, astray [Verloren], (iv) alien, unbefitting [Fremd]. Suppose, for example, that we isolate a group oftones that had previously been a part of a melody. The tones are not simply poorer by the partproperties they had in the melody. They exchange these part-properties for new isolation-properties, for example the property of being given as figure, alone, against a ground of silence, of being in need of completion (for example where the group in question ends on a leading note), and so on. Or consider an isolated coloured fleck. This, too, must appear in some specific way against a background of some sort, and then it may manifest itself either as incomplete, as 'lost' or 'homeless', or as an alien body smuggled into an environment in which it does not belong, as a disturbance in or defect of its environment. A true isolation in the phenomenal sphere, a sensory experience pure and simple, does not exist. But what applies in the sphere of phenomena applies also to (naturally occurring) parts in general. A part does not, on being separated, exist merely in vacuo, but always in some context in which it contributes to new Gestalten and thereby undergoes various functional changes within itself. A Japanese glass pyramid appears in one context as a fitting, proper part of its environment; translate it to a different context, and it will stick out as an entirely alien body. The problem of partand whole-properties should not, however, be treated from a purely synchronic point of view. Parts which have been subject to isolation may grow into unified wholes in their own right, or they may become merged into their new environment in such a way as to lose their properties of isolation. Wholes may come to manifest a high degree of inter-partial unity because their parts have grown together, for example as a result of sharing historically a common fate. And such diachronic factors may manifest themselves also on the subjective side: 57 the experiencing subject learns to accept the belonging together of parts which had previously seemed to be merely separate. Indeed this subject may himself be changed by the material he experiences, so that he begins to see a whole because he himself has become caught up in its web. This may suggest the idea of a refined production theory which would operate not at the level of the single act but atthe level of whole sequences and traditions of acts and actions spread out in time. The fact that one may not grasp the structure of a complex directly, but that it may take time and effort, would not however support the Graz thesis of productive activity at the expense of the Berlin theory. For the fact that Gestalt phenomena arise as a result of a process is precisely emphasized by the Berlin Gestaltists they insist only that this process does not go to work on fundamenta which remain invariant: the whole process taken together with its initial material and with its result is itself gestaltet. 66 §11. Reference Systems and Paradigm Change 11.1 There are two quite different sorts of part-property which may be possessed by a musical tone. On the one hand are properties which the tone has in virtue of its specific role or function in a given melody or sequence of chords. On the other hand there are relatively intrinsic or systemic properties which the tone has for example as the dominant or sub-dominant of a given key. (p.895ff.) From this we can see that Wertheimer's 'roles' or 'functions' may be determined in two entirely different sorts of ways. On the one hand they may be determined by a given context, aim or purpose; on the other hand they may be determined by the fact that they constitute, in combination with other, complementary roles or functions, systems of interdependent referencepoints.67 We might think of such systems as networks of virtual Gestalten, which give meaning to those Gestalten within them which come to be realized, but need not themselves be given intuitively at all. Thus peak ,foot ,flank, standing, lying, below, above, left, right, in, on all appear as mutually correlated terms within the various reference systems of spatial orderand clearly here, too, we can distinguish both objectively and subjectively determined reference systems (and of course combinations of the two). The movements of the earth on its axis and in relation to the sun serve to determine an objective reference system of temporal order, in 58 greater or lesser conformity with which are the various way-markers laid down subjectively e.g. in our secular and religious calendars, in our histories and personal biographies. Language, gesture, the system of values that is market price, geographical, social, legal and political divisions, all constitute reference systems against the background of which specific Gestalten of a more or less ephemeral nature (sentential utterances, market transactions, treaties in international law) can come to realization. But also the various concepts with which we find our way about the world are tied together in reference systems of the given sort (in this case normally hierarchically organized). Human learning and development consists to no small extent in the interiorization of reference systems of this sort, which are themselves interrelated in a multitude of ways. Thus it is a system of social customs and habits which fixes a certain unity of sound, delimits it as part of a system of linguistic sounds, joining it as carrier of meaning on the one hand to the system of behaviour in the given society and on the other hand, via its combination with other, complementary sound-units, to specifically delineated objects. Thus it is only when a given phonic Gestalt is thrown up against the background of a society exhibiting the relevant linguistic order that it constitutes a linguistic utterance. And it is only against the background of a society exhibiting the relevant legal order that specific utterances ('I pronounce thee man and wife') represent elements of a legal process. A melody is a property of a tonal sequence determined also, if Koffka is right, by a certain mental set on the part of the hearer. The latter hears different melodies if he is set in different ways. We can now see that mental set, too, is determined by reference systems of the given sort. The system relevant to the set of one hearer may involve the opposition major vs. minor. For a different hearer, however, one used to atonal music, the very set of tonality may be decisive, so that the major-minor opposition plays no role. For more refined hearers, on the other hand, the specific key or the specific instrument may be decisive. From this however it follows that there is an analogue of Gestalt ambiguity of the switch from one Gestalt to another which applies at levels of entire reference systems. The shift from system to system can occur in any sphere. (One can still go into the bars of Constantinople and hear drinking songs lamenting the loss of Sicily to the Italians.) But it is perhaps in the history of science that such shifts are most pronounced. For every science supplies a web of system-determined properties within the terms of which the relevant 59 object matter is articulated, delimited and understood. When, now, one reference system within a given science comes to be abandoned in favour of another, this brings in its wake what the Gestaltist would call a 'reorganization of the entire field', what Kuhn calls a 'paradigm change', and what Wittgenstein would describe in the terminology of , seeing as' .68 An early application of the idea of 'Gestaltsehen' to the understanding of scientific change is Ludwik Fleck's work on the 'scientific fact' of (1935). Fleck refers to a case of mass suggestion which induced the entire crew of a ship, while searching for a boat in distress, to see this craft and its crew and even to hear shouts and see signals. This collective hallucination was suddenly dispelled but only during the last minutes of approach. The 'boat' turned out to be a tree with branches and leaves drifting in the water. This case could be considered the paradigm of many discoveries. The mood-conforming gestalt-seeing and its sudden reversal: the different gestalt-seeing. Suddenly one can no longer even understand how the previous form was possible and how features contradicting it could have gone unnoticed. The same situation obtains in scientific discovery, only translated from excitement and feverish activity into equanimity and permanence. The disciplined and even-tempered mood, persisting through many generations of a collective, produces the 'real image' in exactly the same way as the feverish mood produces a hallucination. In both cases switch of mood (switch of thought style) and switch of image proceed in parallel. (Eng. trans. pp.179f.) 11.2 What we see, in whatever sphere, depends therefore not merely on the stimulus conditions and on specific acts of perception but also upon our mental set. This in turn depends upon a network of systems of reference which are determined by our language, traditions, habits, knowledge. Thus we can extend our Koffka-esque diagram from §7.2 above, to yield a somewhat more comprehensive view of the matters involved in Gestalt perception, which might look somewhat as follows: Diagram 8. organism 60 r- ---, I acts I of I I perception I L ____ ...J state of I organism ! (set) L ___ _ reference systems (knowledge, habits, traditions, etc.) complex of stimulus and Gestalt I _____ J underlying physical material (objectual formation in the world of nature) At the centre of this diagram are acts of perception. These can be conceived most illuminatingly as relations, connecting states of the organism on the one hand and experienced Gestalten on the other. The states of the organism are of course themselves dependent upon the organism in which they inhere, just as the experienced Gestalt/stimulus is dependent upon underlying formations in the physical world. The remaining component of the diagram which might rather loosely be referred to as the totality of reference systems relevant to a given case is of course a simplification: reference systems are as such mere possibilities, systems of virtual relations; they do not exist except in so far as they are realized in the states (knowledge, habits, skills, etc.) of particular organisms. §12. The Varieties of Order The subject-matter of this and the following section is the notion of 'Pragnanz', a notion first used by Wertheimer to describe the tendencies towards certain kinds of order which he and his fellow Gestaltists had detected in perceptual and memory phenomena. We tend to see the structures of our environment as being more regular, more balanced, more typical, than they actually are. (Thus for example we normally discount the bilateral asymmetries in human faces.) Further, we tend to reproduce these structures in memory in a way which involves some adjustment towards a more simplified or standardized ideaL 69 As has been stressed above all by Italian Gestalt psychologists, two distinct notions are involved in claims of this sort. (See above all Kanizsa and Luccio 1984.) The notion of Pragnanz is in fact ambiguous as between (1) a tendency to regularity or lawfulness in our perceptual experience, and (2) a feature or features of the objects toward whose experience such tendencies might be said to lead. Thus it is primarily to the first of these two notions that Kohler is referring when he stresses that Pragnanz-tendencies, where they exist, are to a large extent independent of learning and experience in virtue of the fact that they are allied to quite general tendencies towards equilibrium in nature. Kohler compares them, indeed, to Mach's 'principle of economy': 61 Ernst Mach not only made the observation that [physical] states tend to develop in the direction of maximal regularity and simplicity; he also gave an explanation in which he derived this tendency from elementary principles in physics ... When Wertheimer formulated his [Pragnanz] principle in psychology I happened to be studying the general characteristics of macroscopic physical states, and thus I could not fail to see that it is the psychological equivalent of Mach's principle in physics (Kohler 1938, p.254f). It is however the second notion to which Metzger is referring when he writes that those whole-formations tend to be established in experience which have the greatest possible simplicity, unity, density, closedness, durability, symmetry, balance, concentricality, which are such that their main axes conform to the greatest degree to the three coordinate axes of space, and finally have the greatest possible completeness and homogeneity amongst themselves. (1941, p.109 of 5th ed., emphases, parentheses and scare-quotes removed) As this passage makes clear however, the term 'pragnant', even when applied exclusively with its objectual meaning, has a number of different connotations. On the one hand it means 'clear', 'marked', 'a good example of its type' . On the other hand it has the connotation of 'fullness' (of 'pregnancy' in the English sense). Now it is clear that the world of art is, in whole or in part, constituted by objects manifesting certain kinds of unity, order, clarity, fullness, perfection, and so on. Can one, then, employ the idea of objectual Pragnanz in order to throw light on the nature and dimensions of aesthetic value? Much of the literature on the 'Pragnanz' of objects has, unfortunately, taken too ready advantage of the fact that the notion is compounded out of the several different notions of 'order' , 'clarity' , 'fullness' , 'typicality' . It is for this reason highly unclear and has rightly been criticized from a range of different points of view. Edwin Rausch however, in his paper on "Properties" already discussed, has performed the service of distinguishing carefully between the various quite distinct dimensions or aspects of objectual Pragnanz, between the several varieties of order given in experience, and I shall follow closely his treatment here. Pragnanz as Lawfulness. The first such dimension is the dimension of [+ lawfulness], a matter of regularity or 'GesetzmafJigkeit'. [+ Lawfulness] can stand either for lawfulness as such (for any kind of lawfulness or conformity to rules, even lawfulness to a very small degree) or, it can stand exclusively for a high degree of lawfulness.1° A [-lawful] 62 whole appears arbitrary or accidental, appears as if its parts have been thrown together at random, as if they could just as well have been put together in anyone of a large number of alternate ways. [+ Lawfulness] presupposes in every case some intelligible context or reference system in the wide sense determined above; it presupposes that the structure or structures in question instance some species or kind. Lawfulness may therefore be to some extent dependent on the contributions of the experiencing subject: a relatively complex pattern or structure can bring about an experience in one individual of an object which has [-lawful] character, and in another of an object which has [ + lawful] character. The latter sees the sense (the law) in the structure in question. Of course, one and the same complex structure may exhibit [ + lawfulness] at some levels and [-lawfulness] at others, even in relation to one and the same initial concept. Imagine, for example, a random conglomeration of individually lawful but unrelated shapes, or a random juxtaposition of mutually unrelated melodies. Pragnanz as Originality. The second dimension of Pragnanz is that of [+ originality] (Eigenstandigkeit) , a matter ofthe primacy, the autonomy, of a phenomenon (e.g. of a phenomenal quality), its capacity to serve as a prototype or master. [Originality] signifies that something is derived, secondary, obtained from some initial structure by a systematic process of transformation. Thus a square has [+ originality]. A rectangle or a parallelogram has (in relation thereto) [-originality]. In relation to other figures, however, the rectangle or parallelogram may itself serve as origin, which shows that the presence of the feature [+ originality 1 presupposes in every case the presence of some degree or kind of [+ lawfulness], some specific concept in terms of which the relative originality of the phenomenon in question can be gauged. Hence the dimension originaVderivative can come about only if [+lawfulness] already applies. This is true of all the Pragnanz-aspects to be discussed below. Pragnanz as Integrity. The third dimension of Pragnanz is that of [+ integrity], a matter of that which is whole, complete, intact, integral as opposed to that which is disturbed, incomplete, affected at the tangent, to that which is subject to privation. Thus where [-originality] refers to a global distancing from a given figure, [-integrity] refers to a departure that is merely local. The lack of integrity can manifest itself in 63 different ways: something can be absent, missing, there might be a hole, there might be too little of something there. There can also be too much, a superfluity, a growth, an alien body. Or it can be a matter ofthe object's being something other than what it should properly be. Lack, damage, loss, falsification, etc., can lend to that which is complete, whole, correct, the character of being no longer whole or of being not yet whole. In both cases there is, in relation to an underlying idea of what should be, a manifest character of the not yet achieved, or of the overstepped. Again, as in the case of [+ originality), this idea of what should be constitutes a natural reference-point for the privatum; here the departure involved is not one of systematic transformation but rather one of accidental disturbance (and an over-strong disturbance can lead to a destruction). As with originality, so also here, the relation between a [+ integral] formation and the [integral] formation which belongs to it is asymmetrical, and both again presuppose [+lawfulness). To understand the difference between originality and integrity consider the family of parallelograms. The members of this family, taken together with their various derivatives, constitute a multi-dimensional system all of the members of which relate to the rectangle as that from which they depart. This is mirrored in language by the fact that we have one term for the original property rectangular, and another term, oblique-angled, for the infinite Diagram 9. 1. f +1awfulneslI] I I +originality] [+integrity] [+1awfulness] / 2. / [-originality 1 [ +integrity ] 3. [+1awfulness] r I r [+originality] [-integrity] 4. [+1awfulness] / 7 [-originality 1 [-integrity] 5. [-lawfulness] ~ 64 wealth of derived cases. (Only those angles which are 'almost rightangled' break out of this system.) Some of these dimensions are illustrated in Diagram 9.71 A formation such as 5. is, from the perspective dictated by the masterconcept rectangle, lacking in all lawfulness. Hence it falls out of the system entirely. It does not even fall under a transformed law or concept such as 2., or under a disturbed law or concept such as 3. In contrast to the [-original] and [-integral] cases, a [-lawful] case does not even remind us of a relevant regularity. 72 Priignanz as Simplicity and Priignanz as Diversity. Two further formal dimensions of Pragnanz are distinguished by Rausch, both of which are of particular relevance in the sphere of aesthetics. Thus there is first of all the dimension of [+simplicity], where that which is [+simple] is harmoniously articulated or organized, as opposed to that which is in its structure complicated or involved, not easily surveyable. As we shall see, the notion of simplicity has a lot in common with aesthetic notions of 'organic unity', and may perhaps be compared also with Ehrenfels' notion of 'purity' (seepp.118 ff. below). Secondly there isthe dimension of [+ diversity], a matter of the fullness or numerical stock [Bestand] , of the multifariousness or manifoldness of a structure. This is the English sense of 'pregnant', a matter of a structure's having a richness of elements, its being fruitful, heavy, significant, weighty, full of something. It is a matter of a wide spread of parts, of internal contours and boundaries, as opposed to that which is meagre, sparse, tenuous. Priignanz as Meaningfulness and Priignanz as Expressivity. It should not however be supposed that Rauschian ideas are limited to the purely formal components ofPragnanz. For perhaps the most interesting aspect of the Rauschian taxonomy of order is his recognition that there are also certain material dimensions involved in the notion of Pragnanz, dimensions having to do with the specific natures of given structures, with the environments in which they exist, with the types of mental set, traditions, habits, with which they are associated. These material dimensions Rausch refers specifically to [+ meaningfulness] and [ expressivity] are therefore also historical~ they are subject to different kinds of evolution. Meaningfulness [Bedeutungsfulle], in particular, is dependent on given knowledge-states, on knowledge of the connections to other objects in which a [+meaningful] phenomenon stands, and so on. 65 §13. On Gestalt Aesthetics73 We can now see more precisely what is meant by 'Pragnanz-tendencies'. There is, first of all, a general ~endency in perceptual experience to experience objects as [+ lawful], to the rising and falling of natural parts, the picking out of instances of determinate species or types. There is also a general tendency for experiences of [-integral] formations to shift towards experiences of their corresponding [+integral] formation (for example in optical illusions involving the partial rectification of a parallelogram towards rectangularity). How, now, does all of this relate to the phenomena of aesthetics? We must point out, first of all, that the perception of works of art, too, will involve the operation of formative tendencies of various sorts. The underlying objectual formation might be a collection of blotches of paint on canvas but what we see, on the basis of a mental set of the appropriate sort, is a painting by EI Greco. Or the underlying objectual formation is a collection of bangs and whistles, but what we hear is a piece of music by Ravel. Here the perceptual and cognitive organizing tendencies at work are more elaborate versions of tendencies present already in our understanding of language, where our perception transforms certain kinds of noises in such a way as to constitute phonemes, words, sentences, commands, requests, prayers, and so on. Again, both mental set and reference system, as well as the underlying foundation of objects or processes, are at work in producing that end-result which is a given perceived Gestalt, and we can indeed regard Diagram 8. above as a sketch of that complex whole which is the perception of a work of art. The underlying physical material or process is then to be conceived not simply as an object of perception but rather as a trigger, designed to set going within the observer tendencies to perceptual or experiential order of certain sorts. And the artist's job, from the present point of view, is to supply a trigger that is most adequate to do this job in given circumstances. We might say that the artist's job is to maximize different sorts of Pragnanz under given conditions. He must seek to produce appropriate triggers for experiences whose resultant objects will manifest (for example) a particularly high degree of harmony and diversity in given circumstances. One might indeed want to go so far as to suggest that at least for most central types of works of art value just is degree of Pragnanz. Ehrenfels himself suggested a conception of value along these 66 lines,74 defining the 'level' of a Gestalt as the product of its degree of purity and degree of multiplicity (corresponding roughly to Rausch's [+simplicity] and [+diversity] distinguished above). In his "Weiterfiihrende Bemerkungen" of 1922, Ehrenfels writes further that 'what we call beauty is nothing other than level of Gestalt' (p.50 of reprint). Following on from the work of G. Birkhoff, much of the literature on Gestalt level and related notions has sought to provide a measure of aesthetic value, though even where just the two dimensions of , simplicity , and 'diversity' are taken into account, quite different mathematical conceptions have been suggested. Thus where Ehrenfels speaks of a 'product' of simplicity and diversity, Birkhoff speaks of a division of these two factors, and Robert Nozick who employs ideas along these lines as the basis for a general theory of value, not restricted to the aesthetic sphere has a sum formula, expressed in terms of diversity and 'organic unity'. These two dimensions are, as Nozick sees them, independent: Holding fixed the degree of unifiedness ofthe material, the degree of organic unity varies directly with the degree of diversity of that material heing unified. Holding fixed the degree of diversity of the material, the degree of organic unity varies directly with the unificdness (induced) in that material. The more diverse the material. the harder it is to unify it to a given degree. (Nozick (19R I ), p.4 t 6) When we do succeed in producing organic unity. then, according to Nozick, we create new value, which arises only in wholes. If we let O(X) represent the degree of organic unity and VeX) the value of some complex object X, having parts XI' X2 ' etc., then we can say that VeX) will be some function ofO(X) and ofthe various VeX). As Nozick writes, 'The simplest function will be additive: the value of X will be the sum of the value of X's parts and the dcgree of organic unity ofX. '7S A mere sum is not organically unified in this sense, and thus its value cannot exceed the values of its parts: 'If the basic dimension of intrinsic value is degree of organic unity, then a conglomerate or aggregate, since it itself has no organic unity, cannot have greater intrinsic valuc than the total had by its parts. No new intrinsic value is introduced by agglomeration' (op. cit., pA23f.). People, with their greater diversity of parts, will, on a view of this sort, rank higher in value than animals, who will rank higher than plants, who will in turn rank higher than rocks, and so on (op. cit., pAI5). After what has been said above however concerning the various independent dimensions of objectual Priignanz, it is difficult to believe 67 that either Ehrenfels or Nozick should have held that it was sufficient to provide a simple two-dimensional conception of value or 'level of Gestalt', without further differentiation. For this is to pay insufficient attention for example to the contribution to value yielded by the lawfulness of a given phenomenon its representing, in some sense, a perfect (or clear, or focaJ) instance of its type. 76 It is to leave out further the originality or primacy of a phenomenon, where we are normally disposed to assume that derivative phenomena simplicity, and diversity, and other things being equal are of lesser value than the original from which they are derived. Most crucially, however, it is to ignore the material dimensions of value, represented here by the dimensions of expressivity and meaningfulness. For it is in terms ofthese that it becomes possible to take account of the historically variable features ofthe world of art, i.e. ofthose dimensions of aesthetic value that are of specific relevance to human subjects. Let us suppose, then, that the artist has the task of maximizing Pragnanz in all or even in a number of the given dimensions. It would clearly be a relatively easy matter for him to fulfil this task if there existed just one relevant dimension. But his job is in fact made almost insuperably difficult by the fact that, as we have seen, there exist many varieties of order, some of which are in competition with each other. For the artist cannot know a priori how the various different kinds of order will interact in given cases: as the Gestalt psychologists (and their critics) have established, there are no laws as to how the various factors of objectual Pragnanz will react in combination. There are no laws governing which of two given competing factors will overwhelm the other, laws governing the conditions under which factors will mutually support or undermine each other, and so on. This need not, however, imply that there is just cause simply to abandon the (still nascent) theory of Pragnanz as a basis for the understanding of order and value in the aesthetic sphere. For just as an ethologist, say, may assist our understanding of animal behaviour by providing a merely qualitative investigation of the dimensions affecting the habits of the animals he studies, even when he is unable to predict what these animals will do from one moment to the next, so also the psychologist may advance our understanding of artistic phenomena by providing a morphological investigation of the various dimensions of variation in the phenomena in question. The results of his investigations will not consist in any formula or measure of value, and nor will they 68 consist in rules which might reflect or dictate the practices of the artist. Rather, they will tell us where we might look for dimensions of aesthetically relevant structure, not only in the works of art he produces but also in the experiences to which these works give rise. §14. Conclusion Both the Austrian and the Berlin Gestalt psychologists distinguished themselves by a high degree of concern for the philosophical implications of their work. In the end, however, it must be accepted that this concern did not go far enough. As is seen above all from the lack of any substantial and formally fruitful logical treatment of the wealth of notions clustering around the Gestalt idea, a truly adequate mastering of the philosophical difficulties which surround this idea has never really taken place. And while the brilliance and experimental ingenuity of Wertheimer, Kohler and Koffka led to many empirical advances over the earlier work oftheir colleagues in Graz, even the proponents of the Berlin theory lacked a wider philosophical framework of the sort that had been provided for the Graz psychologists by Meinong and by Brentano. Such philosophical, and above all ontological, clarification is needed, for, without an awareness of the nature and interrelations of the objects with which it deals, an empirical science is in a certain sense performing experiments in the dark. It should not, however, be supposed that considerations of the sort sketched above could have direct and immediate implications for the experimental practice of a discipline. The connection between such considerations and scientific practice is of necessity highly remote. Yet philosophy need not, for all that, be insignificant. It is too little recognized that there is something like a philosophical experimentation, a variety of experimentation that can test the strength of ideas in a way that is independent of and complementary to what takes place in the laboratory. This notion of philosophical experimentation has been today largely forgotten, both by philosophers and by scientists, as a result of the continuing dominance of the positivist orthodoxy within the mainstream of scientific research. 77 For positivism would have it that philosophical and empirical considerations are divorced entirely from each other (that a real science is marked precisely by the fact that it has left behind 'sterile 69 methodological dehates'). From a wider perspective, however, the dominance of positivism has simply meant that all scientific ideas have heen horn out of one and the same philosophical stahle; they have as it were undergone already in the womh the only sort of philosophical experimentation that is to he granted to them. The cut and thrust of ontological argument ahout the very foundations of empirical science that characterized the work of Brentano, Mach, Stumpf, James and others of their generation, has therehy all hut disappeared from within the confines of science itself. I do not claim to have provided the needed ontological clarification of the Gestalt concept here. I do however claim that it is as much as anything else in virtue of the lack of such clarification that the Gestalt idea has failed to estahlish itself securely within the mainstream of psychology. This is a strong thesis, and it will he useful if I break it down into a number of weaker constituent theses, making it clear that I do not feel equally strongly ahout all ofthem: There is first of all the assumption that the Gestalt idea, in any of its variants, has in truth failed to establish itself within the mainstream of recent psychology. There was, especially in the '40s, much talk of a 'convergence' of (e.g.) behaviourism and Gestalt theory, or of the ahsorption of Gestalt insights hy one school of psychologists or another. And it is clear that certain elements of the work of Wertheimer, K()hler, Koffka, et al., and indeed of Mach and Ehrenfels, have come to he absorhed into the science of psychology as a whole. Thus it may he correct to suppose, with Helson in his paper of 1969, that it was Kohler who first evolved a conception of psychic activity which made possible a serviceable physiological approach to the workings of the mind in the modern sense. It may he correct to suppose that workers in the Gestalt tradition such as Wertheimer, Buhler, Duncker and Selz anticipated and indeed influenced modern debates on the possibility of a computational or information-theoretic approach to psychic processing. 7R And it is certainly correct to suppose that many of the empirical facts about perception, ahout the perception of movement and contour and ahout perceptual constancy and perceptual illusions facts we now take for granted were discovered in the classic experiments performed by Benussi, Wertheimer. Rubin and other Gestaltists. But none of this changes the fact that the central ontological idea of Gestalt structure has al1 but vanished from psychology. Secondly, there is the claim that there is a lack of ontological 70 clarification on the part of Gestalt psychologists of the notions they employ. Now there is, certainly, interesting philosophical work within the Gestalt tradition. The writings of Rausch, above all contain philosophical investigations of a high order, and what has been offered above is only a sample of the wealth of ideas within his works. Rausch combines the insights of an experimental psychologist with a grasp of the techniques of modern logic, and he has succeeded in addressing many of thc most pressing ontological issues surrounding the notion of Gestalt in \vays that have proved also empirically fruitful. Yet Rausch has been an isolated figure, his work has remained practically unknown and entirely lllltranslated, a fate he has shared with the earlier Austrian writers on the ontology of Gestalt (so that it is only now, with the publication of this volume, that Ehrenfels' "Ober 'Gestaltqualitiiten'" will appear in print in English). The work of Meinong, too, has been little read by psychologists, and Meinong is today remembered principally for his contributions to pure ontology. Stumpf, on the other hand, has suffered the opposite fate: he is treated with respect as a seminal figure in the psychology of music, yet his posthumous philosophical masterpiece on the theory of cognition remains unread. ~ There is, thirdly, the assllmption that, if the appropriate ontological clarifications of Gestalt were forthcoming in an accessible form, then the present unhappy state of affairs would cOllle to he re,ctified and Ciestalt notions would once more play a signi ficant role in psychological inquiries. I a 111 not sllre ahout this at ,til, and not only for reasons h;tving to do with the gratuitolls and serendipitous character of scientific change. For I am not sure that sllch clarifications C{[11 he pn)\'ided (and the present \'olullle is little more than gnHIIH.I-clearing round the fringes of the prohlem). MoreovL'r, it seems that even irthey we're' provided, there may still he reasons why t he nit t y grit ty of perceptual psychology would have to he centred around problems skew to a (ie'stalt-theoretical trc,ltment .:') There are, howC\C!', arcas outside pcrccptu~t1 psychology ~ ahove all in Ii ngllist ics and ina rt i ficial i nt e II igence,"11 w he re ideas and iss lies si m ilar to those found in the Gestalt tradition seem once again to be playing an important role. Finally, there is the thesis to the effect that the attempt to provide sllch clarification is \\'orthwhiIc. And here I should like to insist vcr\, strongly that the ideas of !\Ltch and Fhrcllfcls, or I\kinollg, Benussi, Witasek and Biihler, of\Vertheimcr, K(lhler and Koffka, of Lewin, Katz and Ruhin, of l\111satti, Met/gel', Rallsch and Kanizsa, of Heider. 71 Michotte and Thorn, contain the germ of an important idea, an idea which if it can be stripped of the exaggerated claims which were sometimes made on its behalf can help us to achieve a deeper and more adequate understanding of both psychological and non-psychological complexity. There is, in other words, more than a merely historical reason (curiosity) for studying the works of the Gestalt psychologists, as I hope the remainder of this volume will help to demonstrate. Notes 1 See above all the writings by Dreyfus listed on p. 269 below, and compare also Smith (1987a). Taking advantage ofthe Bibliography to the volume as a whole (see pp.231-478), I have provided only the briefest indications of the GestaItist literature in the notes that follow. References to items in this Bibliography are given by author and year without parentheses, thus: 'Ehrenfels 1890'. References in which the year is surrounded immediately by parentheses as in 'James (1890)', etc. designate items in the list on pp.79ff. at the end of the present essay. 2 See, on this, Fabian 1986. 3 Brentano's seminal ideas in this area formed the substance of lectures in Vienna which were attended by Ehrenfels, as indeed also by Meinong and Husserl. Brentano's own notes to these lectures are now accessible as Brentano (1982); see also Mulligan and Smith (1985). Note that Brentano himself did not accept the doctrine of Gestalt qualities in any of its manifestations, and in his later writings he fought hard against the acceptance of all 'entia rationis'. Kraus 1921 is a critique of Gestalt psychological ideas from this, orthodox Brentanian perspective. 4 The paper can therefore be seen as a philosophical supplement to Ash 1982, an excellent historical study of the origins of Gestalt psychology in Germany, from which I have profited greatly. 5 Hering's work and especially his Outlines of a Theory of the Light Sense also contains considerations of the relationship of psychology and physiology related in important ways to those of Kohler 1920: see Ash 1982, pp.93-109. Other German thinkers who would have to be taken into account in any complete exposition are Wilhelm Stern, and also Wilhelm Dilthey, whose concept of verstehender vs. verstandener Zusammenhang was known to both Wertheimer and Kohler. (, Both these countries have shown a marked lack of acceptance of the Gestalt tradition, as the Bibliography below makes clear. One possible explanation is suggested in the passage appended to the entry for Stout 1896 on pp. 443f below: 72 7 It should be noted however that J ames sees figured consciousness as pointing merely to the subtlety of the associative mechanisms involved in mental processing. R The term is used for example in relation to the bread and wine of the Eucharist. As Clemens Brentano, Franz Brentano's uncle, wrote: brod und wein, die zwei gestalten, sind nur zeichen, sie enthalten gottes volle wesenheit ( Gesammelte Schriften, 1, P .155. ) t) Yom Krieg, sketches of Book 8, Part I, quoted in Metzger 1940, p.7f. of 5th ed. 10 See also Lipps 1913. 11 Schapp 1910 contains an extensive treatment of qualities ofthis sort. 12 See Smith (1986a) and (1987) for further reflections on the comparison between Husserl and Ehrenfels. See also Kung (1975), on Husserl and Carnap. I3 See Smith (1986a) for more details of Husserl's theory of species and identity in the Logical Investigations . 14 A conception of perceptual acts along these lines is defended in Smith (1984). See also Mulligan and Smith (1986). I shall come back to Gestalt-theoretical views on the relationality of perception in §9 below. 15 Both Meinong and Ehrenfels were almost certainly influenced in this respect by the theory of 'higher order economic goods' put forward by the Austrian economist Carl Menger under whom they both studied in Vienna. See in particular Menger's Grundsatze der Volkswirtschaftslehre of (1871). 16 It is worth noting in passing that the world of experience thus conceived has much in common with the world of Brentano's mature ontology. Brentano has no room for physical things in the standardly accepted sense. He sees the world rather as a kind of sensory surface, capable of being partitioned into constituent sub-surfaces more or less ad indefinitum. To some of the sub-surfaces thereby generated a certain 'thing-character' may then be subjectively imputed. See Brentano (1933), Smith (1986b). A Gestalt-theoretical view of substance along these lines was developed also by the Meinongian Kreibig in his 1909. 17 Husserl himself was heavily influenced by Stumpf, as is shown by the dedication of the Logical Investigation. On the influence of Brentano on Stumpf see McAlister, ed. (1976), pp.42f. 18 Judgments and conceptual thinking in general also have special objects in Stumpf's philosophy, and indeed Stumpf was primarily responsible for introducing the term 'Sachverhalt' in the sense of 'judgment content' or 'objectual judment correlate' as a technical term of philosophy. See his 1907. Our exposition here is however taken not from this work, but rather from Stumpf's two-volume Theory of Cognition of 1939/40, which still manifests a continuity with his earlier thinking. Note that the Stumpfian conception of Gestalt structure isshared also by Karl Biihlerin his writings on Gestalt (see esp. his 1913), as also for example in Brunswik 1929. It) This restrictive notion of Gestalt will prove to be of some importance in the treatment of aesthetic phenomena, since it seems that val ue, in the aesthetic field, is always such as to involve just that articulate complexity which is here at issue. 73 20 Meinong was in fact responsible for establishing the first laboratory of experimental psychology in Austria, and the school which he founded in Graz was the first to carry out experiments in 'Gestalt psychology' in a systematic way. The results of these experiments are presented above all in writings of Witasek, Hofler, Ameseder and Benussi. Variants of the production theory were defended also by G. E. Muller and his associates, by G. Anschutz, and later by B. Petermann. 21 1911, p.391. Benussi hereby accepts at least one form of the constancy hypothesis, i.e. a form of the view that what is given in sensation is determined exclusively by the relevant objective conditions and that, from occasion to occasion, qualitatively similar objective conditions give rise to qualitatively similar sensations. See Kohler 1913 and, from a more philosophical perspective, Gurwitsch 1955, part III. 22 1904, p.394; 1914a, pA07. 23 See Stucchi 1988 for a detailed account of the development ofBenussi 's thought. 24 See Musatti 1929, p.32. Quoted by Stucchi, loco cit. 25 Benussi himself was, like Kanizsa and Metelli, born in the old k.u.k. Hafenstadt of Triest, and the extent to which we are still dealing here with a characteristically Austrian (Austro-Hungarian) tradition in Gestalt psychology is well-illustrated by the fact that the name 'Kanizsa' originates with the nobility of Southern Hungary. 26 One can understand why empirically-minded psychologists should be attracted to such a theory if one reflects that, on the basis of a Helmholtzian retinal image theory of visual sensation, what is not in the retinal image cannot be seen, and must therefore be added by thought. Cf. Hochberg 1974a .. 27 See e.g. Michotte and Burke 1951. 28 See Michotte 1946, ch.17. Michotte distinguishes, for example, between that type of causality which is a matter of the launching of one object by anotber, and that type of causality which is a matter of entrainment, where one object drags another along in its wake. Both involve the spread of movement from one object to another, perceived as involving productiveness or generation. 29 Petitot has in addition shown how catastrophe theory can be used to throw light on theories of case and grammatical valence, as also on the idea of a dependency grammar in the manner of Tesniere. See his 1982, and also now the second volume of Petitot (1985/86). These topics are illuminatingly treated also in Wildgen (1985). 30 The idea of a Gestalt linguistics which would take account of more than merely linear relations within the purely linguistic level has been developed also by Lakoff. The idea is present further in Fillmore's concept of 'frame structures' (see his 19$1), in the idea of canonical sentence patterns employed by Slobin in his work in developmental linguistics, and in the recent book on semantics and cognition by lackendoff. Thus Fillmore, for example, stresses the holistic aspect of the frames or 'scenes' which his theory employs, noting that an entire frame, an entire system of functionally interconnected linguistic units, is brought into play, is 'activated', whenever a speaker uses some one of the constituent verbs (1981, p.73). 74 31 Our presentation here is to a large extent a summary of the ideas in this work, though we are clearly unable to do justice here to the mathematical foundations ofthese ideas . . ':' In more recent work, Wildgen has shown that there is the possibility of producing, on the basis of Thom's work, a theory of inferences between linguistic Gestalten. This produces inferential systems which in some respects echo the grammatical inferences treated at the end of §6 of Smith and Mulligan 1982, though enjoying a greater mathematical subtlety. 33 Benussi 1914a, pp.399f. See however 1904, p.394 and also Ameseder 1904, pp.495 , 506. 34 Benussi 1914a, p.403. 35 Op.cit., p.33. Koffka's notion of mental set or Einstellung (op.cit., p.34) is derived from the work of the Wiirzburg school of Oswald Kiilpe. 36 Here the single lines connecting broken to solid walls of adjacent frames represent relations of one-sided dependence, double lines connecting adjacent broken walls represent relations of mutual dependence and the inclusion of one frame in another is to signify, in the manner of Venn or Euler diagrams, the relation of part to whole. See §6 of Smith and Mulligan 1982 for further examples of such diagrams. Compare also the parallel diagram of the state of affairs and associated acts of judgment and presentation in Smith (1987). This does not, however, imply a Spinozism a fa Mach (see § 12 of the paper by Mulligan and Smith below). Koffka does not claim that the universe forms a single 'organic whole': 'just as the category of causality does not mean that any event is causally connected with any other, so the gestalt category does not mean that any two states or events belong together in one big gestalt.' (ibid.) 31{ Ehrenfels, too, of course, recognized the Gestalt character of actions. Actions are, for example, transposable: Fritz can chase the cat either by running uphill, or by running downhill. The most philosophically sophisticated treatment ofthe Gestalt character of actions is however to be found in the writings of the French phenomenologist MerleauPonty. See especially his 1942 and 1945 . . 19 See Luchins and Luchins 1970, vol. III, p.271, and the (unpublished) note 2 to Luchins 1982. 40 Boring 1929 (ch.17 of 2nd ed.) sees the moment of unity of this tradition as lying in the fact that its members embraced one or other form of nativism, as contrasted with the empiricism of Wundt, Helmholtz and their followers. Contrast, however, Pastore 1974 and, for the specific case of Stumpf, Smith (1986) . .il See Smith 1981 on Kafka, Marty and Ehrenfels in Prague. See also Brod and Weltsch 1913. To the wider intellectual community there belonged also the Prague linguists, Trubetzkoy, Mathesius, lakobson, and others; relations between Prague structural linguistics and Gestalt psychology have still to be investigated. 42 See Bergmann (1974), esp. pp.388ff. S~ See Ash 1982, pp. 165,225 . .+.i Wertheimer was influenced also by the Wiirzburg school and in fact took his doctorate with Kiilpe in 1905. See Ash 1982, pp.250ff., who also provides 75 details of the later careers of Wertheimer, Kohler and Koffka in universities outside Berlin, before their successive emigration to the United States. 45 Exactly the same danger manifests itself in relation to the theory of noemata set forth by Husserl in his Ideas I, and there are many similarities between Husserl's noema theory and the theory of perceptual Gestalten, especially in its Grazist variant. Thus where noemata were conceived by Husserl as peculiar abstract entities accessible to the subject only in a special sort of reflection, higher order objects were conceived by the Graz psychologists as irrealia accessible only in a special 'act of production'. As the Berlin psychologists showed however, it is possible to develop a conception of Gestalten as naturally existing entities indeed as the primary and most straightforward objects of presentation in a way which would make them capable of investigation within a naturalistic framework. % 46 When account is taken also of the movements of the eye and head, then there is revealed an even greater degree of transparency of perceptual contact across the entire range of everyday experiences. This, surely, is the principal lesson of J. J. Gibson's work. 47 This difference of emphasis in the work of Kohler and Wertheimer comes out particularly clearly in some of Wertheimer's later seminars. See e.g. Luchins and Luchins 1972174, vol. II, p.160 (passage quoted in Keiler 1982, pp.259f.). 48 Whether this Wertheimer-Kohler-Koffka-Gibson theory of the relationality of perception can be extended to produce a coherent account not merely of perception but also of what is involved in the truth of judgments is still an open question. Mulligan, Simons and Smith (1984) can be seen as a step in this direction. See also Schuhmann and Smith (1985), on an anticipation of Gibsonian realism in the work of the realist phenomenologist Johannes Daubert, as also the work of E. S. Reed (for example his (1983)). 49 On the first of these, a comprehensive study of different kinds of summative and non-summative wholes, see §6 of Smith and Mulligan 1982. so All the references in what follows are to Rausch's paper 1966a, unless otherwise stated. It must however be stressed that Rausch limits his remarks to phenomenally given properties, and he would almost certainly have reservations in regard to some of the more general applications which his ideas receive in the text. SI Recall Stumpf's discussion of the conditions which a tone sequence must satisfy if it is to be a melody. 52 Rausch 1937 showed that there are more than 1000 different types of summative and non-summative wholes, even when only relatively simple formal criteria of 'summativity' are taken into account. 5.' On the importance to biological reasoning of such whole-properties and of the general concepts of distributivity and non-distributivity see Darden and Rada (forthcoming) . 54 Exercises in ontological parsing of the sort here illustrated were familiar to Brentano's students and are at the basis of Brentano's own theory of substance and accident: see Smith (1986b). Rausch in fact argues that the capacity to submit to such re-parsing, to be transformed from a (I-place) property to an (n-place) relation, is a criterion of Gestalt-connection in the classical sense 76 (pp.87lf.). It is absent, e.g., in those cases where a continuum serves as underlying complex. 55 See Rausch 1966a, pp.873f., 902f., Metzger 1941,ch.2, Pratt 1962. 56 'A complex is the more a Gestalt. .. the clearer is the complex quality belonging to it. A complex quality is the more a Gestalt quality ... the clearer it is.' (p,R79) 57 The doctor, for example, will refer to the case of influenza in the sixth bedon the right. 51l Note that the transformations which take us back and forth between [A] and l C] are not confined to the sphere of dependent qualities: they can be applied wherever we have a group of objects unified together, some one of which is relatively insignificant in relation to the whole. Thus we say that the button is on the one hand part afthe coat, and on the other hand on the coat. There is no contradiction here, since two different oppositions are at work. On the one hand 'coat' means the object to whose constitution the button belongs, on the other hand it means an object which is made exclusively of textile material (p. 898; cf. Metzger 1954, pp. t4lf. of 5th ed.). 59 This should not, of course , be understood as implying that there is no truth of the matter in any given case (as though the structures of Gestalten could vary in reflection of the way in which the theorist chooses to describe them). Rather, each of the given alternatives and of course equivalent descriptions of the vastly more complicated cases with which one would normally have to deal-are merely different ways of formally articulating strictly identical material. 60 Very similar ideas are present in the 3rd of Husserl's Logical Investigations which may indeed have influenced Wertheimer here. Among psychologists the concept of part-property had been introduced before Wertheimer by F. E. O. Schultze in 1906 as the concept of what he called effect-accents ['Wirkungsakzente ']. Schultze did not see, however, that such properties can be treated in correlation with whole-properties: he contrasted the theory of effectaccents with that of Gestalt qualities, but did not integrate the two (ct. again Rausch 1966a, p.894). 61 See the work on 'SMT' of Stadler and his associates for interesting empirical investigations along these lines. 62 Cf. Kohler 1920. 63 Indeed we could say that for Ehrenfels it is in every case the personal unity of consciousness which is the properly integrating moment of a Gestalt. Forwhen elements are spread in different consciousnesses their unity is lost. (Cf. Rausch 1966a, p.888f., and pp.MM below.) Benussi, too, investigated the properties of different kinds of dependent Gestalten: see especially his 1904. M The conception of linguistics as a study of successive levels of interrelated partand whole-properties has been canvassed most consistently by Roman lakobson (see e.g. Holenstein (1975) and works there cited). Compare also Harris (1951) for similar developments within American structural linguistics. 65 See Rausch 1966a, p.899 and also Rausch 1964. 66 Cf. Rausch 1966a, n.9. 1>7 The notion of 'reference system' that is employed in what follows may be regarded as an informal equivalent of the technical Gestaltist notion of . Bezugssystem': see e.g. Witte 1966a. 77 68 On Gestalt theory in modern philosophy of science see e.g. Kuhn (1962), pp .174, 184; Hanson (1958), pp .1Off., 179ff.; perhaps also Polan yi 1958, 1966. For Wittgenstein see especially his Philosophische Untersuchungen and Bemerkungen aber die Philosophie der Psychologie. Compare also the remarks on numbers as Gestalten in the Bemerkungen aber die Grundlagen der Mathematik (e.g. pp.150, 229f. of the German edition) which will immediately recall Wertheimer 1912. 69 Gestalt investigations of such tendencies have in some respects anticipated later work on the stereotypicality of cognition and perception, of the role of the opposition between focal and derived or modified instance, e.g. on the part of E. Rosch and her associates. They are echoed also in the treatment of 'typicality' in the writings of the later Husserl, as when he writes: The factual world of experience is experienced as a typified world. Things are experienced as trees, bushes, animals, snakes, birds; specifically, as pine, linden, lilac, dog, viper, swallow, sparrow, and so on ... What is given in experience as a new individual is first known in terms of what has been genuinely perceived; it calls to mind the like (the similar). But what is apprehended according to type also has a horizon of possible experience with corresponding predilineations due to familiarity and has, therefore, types of attributes not yet experienced but, expected. When we see a dog, we immediately anticipate its additional modes of behaviour: its typical way of eating, playing, running, jumping, and soon. We do not actually see its teeth; but although we have never before seen this dog, we know in advance how its teeth will look. (Husserl (1939), §82a, Eng. trans., p.331) 70 The terminology here employed, adapted from the literature on distinctive features in linguistics, should not be taken to imply that we are dealing here with simple binary oppositions: we have in each case to deal with different kinds of graded or scalar phenomena, with phenomena capable of Steigerung, of greater and lesser intensity. 71 See p.917, cf. also Metzger, Gesetze des Sehens, p.223 of new edition. 72 In all of these cases Rausch is referring, we must remember, exclusively to phenomenal moments: his theory of the dimensions or distinctive features of Pragnanz, as of partand whole-properties in general, is intended merely as a contribution to the understanding of phenomenal experience. It has generated interesting empirical work in this regard: see e.g. Stadler, Stegnano and Trombini 1979. 73 The section which follows is confined to a discussion of the relevance to aesthetics of the Gestalt idea of Pragnanz. Thus it does not take account of other Gestalt literature on aesthetic matters such as, most importantly, the writings of Rudolf Arnheim. 74 See his paper, "Gestalt Level and Gestalt Purity" translated below. 75 Op.cit., p.423. In a footnote Nozick adds: 'More precisely, given different partitionings ... , it will be the maximum relative to some partition' (my emphasis). 76 See Witasek 1904, for a treatment of aesthetic value in which lawfulness in this sense is taken into account. Compare also Smith 1985, 1988. Lawfulness is of course important also in serving as a presupposition for the other distinguished dimensions. 78 This orthodoxy has for some years now been called illto question within the mainstream of philosophy. In the sphere of science proper it has been challenged above all by linguisf'.,. Thus the early debates on mechanistic vs. non-mechanistic approaches to psychology parallel current debates within artificial intelligence. Sec e.g. Dreyfus 1972, a work whIch is indeed indebted to the Gestalt psychologists. Interestingly, some memhers of the (lraz schooL as well as the important hut neglected German Gestalt psychologist Otto Selz, anticipated in their work 011 cognition important aspects of more recent approaches in cognitive psychology. See e.g. N eisse r 1976, and Frijda and De (Jwot 19K I (especially the contri hut ion by He rbe rt A. Si mo n). "'I Seee.g. Pinker( 19K4). ~II Consider. for example, sOllle of the ideas underlying the programme of con ne xlon I '1111. References Bergmann, H. (1974) "Personal Remembrances of AIlK'rt Lill'ltcin", in R. S. Cohen and M. W. Wartofsky, cds., rogicol (/1/(1 I:l'isl('lllol()giclil Slllt/ics ill COlIlClI/pOrarr Physics, Dordrecht: Reidel. 3XK-IJ4. Brentallo, F. (1933) 1\(IlCKOricl/lclirc, cd. A. Kastil. Leip/.ig: Meiner, repro flamhurg: rvkiner, 196K; Eng. trans. nil' IiiI'm.' oj' Calegories, The Hague: Nijhoff. 19XI. - (19X2) /)eskrip[il'f Psyc/Jologic, cd. hy R. M. Chisholm and W. Baumgartner, Ilamhurg: Meiner. Carnap, R. (192X) /)er/oKische Au/ball del' Welt. Berlin: Weltkreis, Eng. trans. as The IA)Kica/Stntctureoffhe World, London: ROlltledge and Kegan Paul, 1967. Darden, L. and Rada, R. (forthcoming) "Hypothesis Formation via Interrelations", Proceedings o/AllaloKica 'R5, Computer Science Department, Rutgers University. Fillmore, C. (1In7) "The Case for Case Reopened", ill P. Cole andJ. M. Sadock, cds., Srn{(lx afld ";('mantics, Amsterdam: North-f lolland, 59-K I. Fleck. L. ( I InS) Flllslcllllllg IIl1d Fllfl1'id:.llIlig ('ill('/' Il'isl(,IISc/w/ilic/znl ralsaclil': hn/ii//I'llflg il/ die /.I'li rt'l'OIll I kn k sf if IIl1d /)('1/ k k o/ll'A. [i t. Base I. Sc hwa be , El1g. trans. as Genesis lIlld Ih'l'c/opmelll ota Scil'lIlijic FaCl, Chicago amI London: liniversitvof('hicago Prl'ss, Ilnl). f lal1sol1, N. R. ( 195X) 1)(/[[('1'1/\ of /)is('()\'('I'Y, ('amhridge: ('ambridge llnih'rsity Press. flarris, Z. S. (1951) SlmC[urall.illgllislIcs, ('hicago amll.ondon: l;l1i,ersit\ of ('hicag() Prl':-':-'. I kring, F. (1905) (;nllld::iigc ::llr I.elir!' l'OIll I. ic/willl/C, Berlin: Springer. Lng. tr;lI1s. (hillines of II Il1l'orr of [/ie I.iglzt SeilSI', Ilarvard: Ilarvard l Jlliver:-.it\ Press, I 1)()4. f lolel1steill, F. (1975) ROil/ail Jako/Js(}lIs ,,\!'proach /() /.al/gllllgt'. 79 Phenomenological Structuralism, Bloomington and London: Indiana University Press. Husserl, E. (1939) Erfahrung und Urteil, Prague: Academia, Eng. trans. Experience and Judgment, London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1973. Ingarden, R. (1931) Das literarische Kunstwerk, Halle: Niemeyer, Eng. trans. The Literary Work of Art, Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1973. James, W. (1890) Principles of Psychology, 2 vols., New York: Henry Holt and Co., repro New York: Dover, 1950. Kuhn, T. S. (1962) The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, rev. ed. 1972. Kung, G. (1975) "The Phenomenological Reduction as Epoche and as Explication", The Monist, 59, 63-80. McAlister, L. L. , ed. (1976) The Philosophy of Brentano, London: Duckworth. Menger, C. (1871) Grundsatze der Volkswirtschaftslehre, as repro in Menger's Collected Works, ed. by F. A. von Hayek, London: London School of Economics, 1933, Eng. trans. as Principles of Economics, Glencoe: Free Press, 1950. Mulligan, K. and Smith, B. (1985) "Franz Brentano on the Ontology of Mind", Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 45,627-44. - (1986) "A Relational Theory of the Act", Topoi 5/2 (special Husserl issue), 115-30. Mulligan, K., Simons P.M. and Smith, B. (1984) "Truth-Makers", Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 44, 287-321. Nozick, R. (1981) Philosophical Explanations, Oxford: Clarendon Press. Petitot, J. (1985/86) Morphologie du Sens, vols. I and II, Paris: P. U. F. Pinker, S. (1984) "Visual Cognition: An Introduction", Cognition, 18, 1-63. Reed, E. S. (1983) "Two Theories of the Intentionality of Perceiving" , Synthese, 54,85-94. Rosch, E., Mervis, C. B., Gray, W., Johnson, D. and Bayes-Braem, P. (1976) "Basic Objects in Natural Categories", Cognitive Psychology, 8, 382-439. Schuhmann, K. and Smith, B. (1985) "Against Idealism: Johannes Daubert vs. Husserl's Ideas I", Review of Metaphysics, 39,763-93. - (1987) "Questions: An Essay in Descriptive Phenomenology", Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 47,353-84. Slobin, D. I. (1982) "The Origins of Grammatical Encoding of Events", Syntax and Semantics, 15,409-22. Smith, B. (1984) "Acta cum fundamentis in re", Dialectica, 38,157-78. - (1986) "Ontologische Aspekte der Husserlschen Phanomenologie", Husserl Studies, 3,115-30. (1986a) "Logic and Formal Ontology", MS forthcoming in I. N. Mohanty and W. McKenna, eds., Husser'l Phenomenology: Textbook, Lanham: University Press of America. (/986b) "The Substance of Brentano's Ontology", Topoi (special Brentano issue) 611 , 39-49. - (1987) "On the Cognition of States of Affairs", in Mulligan, ed., Speech Actand Sachverhalt. Reinach and the Foundations of Realist Phenomenology, Dordrecht/Boston/Lancaster: Nijhoff, 189-225. 80 - (1987a) "Knowing How vs. Knowing That", in J. C. Nyiri and B. Smith, eds., Practical Knowledge. Outlines of a Theory of Traditions and Skills, London and Oyndey: Croom Helm. Weyl, H. (1928) Raum, Zeit, Materie. Vorlesungen uber allgemeine Relativitiitstheorie, Berlin: Springer. Wildgen, W. (1985) Archetypensemantik. Grundlagen fur eine dynamische Semantik auf der Basis der Katastrophentheorie, Tiibingen: N arr. Wittgenstein, L. (1953) Philosophische Untersuchungen/Philosophical Investigations, Oxford: Blackwell. (1964) Remarks on the Foundations of Mathematics, Oxford: Blackwell, new German ed. Bemerkungen uber die Grundlagen der Mathematik, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1985. - (1983) Bemerkungen uber die Philosophie der Psychologie/ Remarks on the Philosoph y of Psychology, 2 vols. , Oxford: Blackwell.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Das grosse Missverständnis Kierkegaard, das Christentum und die Mystik Maximilian Runge Abstract: It was the emphasis of Søren Kierkegaard's railing against 19th-century Danish Christianity in all its ruthlessness that eventually led him to utterly reject and actively fight the majority of the contemporary as well as important aspects of the historical discourse on Christianity. One of the aspects that Kierkegaard distanced himself from sharply consists in the long tradition of Christian mysticism. Nevertheless his concept of the "knight of faith" reveals several deliberations that appear to be close to mystical Christian conceptions (e.g. the meaning of suffering or despair for the leap of faith, an increasing awareness of sin and guilt as well as the conditions for the knight of faith's secular ministry). Thus, Kierkegaard's critique of mysticism suggests his misunderstanding of the mystical perspective's implications. This essay tries to solve said misunderstanding between Kierkegaard and christian tradition by interrelating the process of becoming a knight of faith with the mystical responsibility before the divine and the ethical responsibility before all of humanity. Keywords: Søren Kierkegaard, Christianity, mysticism, leap of faith, knight of faith, despair, existentialism, spirituality, religiosity, transcendence, dialectic of existence Schlüsselwörter: Christentum, Mystik, Glaubenssprung, Glaubensritter, Verzweiflung, Existenzphilosophie, Spiritualität, Religiosität, Transzendenz Kiel, im Oktober 2013 Inhaltsverzeichnis 1 Einleitung 1 2 „Steine des Anstosses" – Die Kierkegaardschen Ärgernisse 2 2.1 Gesellschaftskritischer Diskurs: Christenheit und Bürgertum 2 2.2 Christlich-philosophischer Diskurs: Hegels Systemphilosophie 4 2.3 Mystischer Diskurs: Der Abstand zu Gott 6 3 Zur Konzeption des Glaubensritters 8 3.1 Alleinsein auf Zeit: Der Gläubige und die Gesellschaft 8 3.2 Verzweiflung als Begleiterscheinung zunehmenden Glaubens 10 3.3 Re-integration – Der Sprung in den Glauben 12 4 Fazit 14 5 Literaturund Quellenverzeichnis 15 1 1) Einleitung Wenn man einen ersten, allgemeinen Blick auf das Schreiben und Denken des Søren Kierkegaard wagt, dann könnte einem sehr rasch die Leidenschaft auffallen, mit der dieser Philosoph gegen das bestehende Christentum wettert. Da werden nicht nur das kirchliche Leben und die bischöflichen Reden Dänemarks der 1840er und 1850er Jahre angeprangert, sondern da wird – von einem Christen! – der christliche Zeitgeist der unnachgiebigsten Kritik unterzogen, die seit Martin Luther an die Gläubigen gedrungen ist. Seine Bemühungen, die stagnierende dänische „Christenheit" von innen heraus zu reformieren, entwickeln sich zu einer allgemeinen Glaubensund Gesellschaftskritik, die viele soziale, philosophische und religiöse Missstände aufzudecken und zu beheben sich vornimmt – jedoch immer begünstigt mit dem sprachlichen Geschick des Dichters und bewaffnet mit der spitzen Zunge des Polemikers. Von Mal zu Mal kann es dabei auch geschehen, dass der skeptische Blick tiefer dringt, als er vielleicht sollte. Denn ebenso rasch, wie sich ein angespanntes Verhältnis zur Christenheit entdecken lässt, scheint sich bei Kierkegaard eine Nähe zur christlichen Mystik zu offenbaren, die dieser selbst nicht gewahrt zu haben scheint. Wie sonst liesse sich seine ablehnende Haltung gegenüber mystischen Konzepten erklären, obgleich schon die Begrifflichkeit eines „durchsichtigen Verhältnisses vor Gott" sehr stark der Vorstellung einer unio mystica1 zu ähneln scheint? Wenn sich ein Vergleich zwischen beiden Ansätzen sogar zuletzt als positiv herausstellen sollte und Kierkegaard dennoch an ihrer Verschiedenheit festhält – resultiert dann seine Abneigung ihr gegenüber nicht aus einem Missverständnis der Mystik? Wie genau sich daher Kierkegaards Positionierung bezüglich mystischer Auffassungen gestaltet, soll folgend untersucht werden. Dazu werde ich zunächst einen Abgleich des diskursiven Denkens unternehmen, das bei Kierkegaard in Bezug auf die zeitgenössische Gesellschaft, Philosophie und Theologie vorgefunden werden kann. Es wird dabei einerseits um die Abgrenzung des „spiessbürgerlichen" Daseins zu den vorbereitenden Prämissen des Glaubensritters gehen als auch andererseits um die Kierkegaardsche Gewichtung von Vernunft und Glaubenserfahrungen. Im Mittelpunkt des zweiten Teils meiner Untersuchung steht der leidensvolle Weg des Glaubensritters und sein Kampf gegen das Allgemeine (Kap. 3.1), gegen sich selbst (Kap. 3.2) und gegen die Grenzen der Welt (Kap. 3.3). Grundtenor bildet dabei stets der Versuch, das Kierkegaardsche Werk in Verhältnis zu primär mystischen Gedanken zu setzen und einen Spielraum progressiver Per1 Die mystische Hochzeit mit Gott, auch Alleinheit genannt. In den meisten mystischen Strömungen wird der Weg zu einer Vereinigung mit dem Göttlichen bzw. dem Urgrund allen Seins gelehrt. 2 sonwerdung zu eruieren, gemäss Peter Fonks Beobachtung: „,Person' [...] ist ein Ereignis, eine Handlung, die nach innen geht."2 2) „Steine des Anstosses" – Die Kierkegaardschen Ärgernisse Bevor es zu einer Betrachtung des Glaubensritters kommen kann, müssen Kierkegaards Verhältnisse zur Gesellschaft, Philosophie und Mystik überprüft werden. Da eine rücksichtslose Leidenschaftlichkeit für seinen radikalen Kritikwillen verantwortlich gemacht werden kann, erfordert es eine genaue Analyse der „Diskursverträglichkeit" Kierkegaardschen Denkens, um jene Topoi aufzuzeigen, die Kierkegaard durch eine allzu vorschnelle Verurteilung (respektive eines Urteils, das er nicht besser hatte fällen können) aus seinem Blickfeld ausschliesst. Erst danach wird eine Versöhnung speziell mit der Mystik möglich. 2.1) Gesellschaftskritischer Diskurs: Christenheit und Bürgertum Kierkegaards gesellschaftliches Streben richtet sich hauptsächlich gegen die „Karikatur des Christentums"3, deren Zeuge er während der dänischen Biedermeierzeit werden musste. Im Zuge der grossen Einflussnahme von Kirche und Theologie hatte sich in den Augen Kierkegaards der Kern der christlichen Religion zu einem anerkannten, leeren Dogma pervertiert, das zwar gelehrt, aber eben nicht gelebt wurde4. Dieses bestehende, in der dänischen Gesellschaft konstituierte Gewohnheitschristentum nennt Kierkegaard die Christenheit, und sie ist der Ort dessen, was Heidegger weniger als 100 Jahre später das „Man"5 heissen wird. Bei Kierkegaard ist der Raum des Man der Raum des Spiessbürgers. Als hauptsächlicher Bewohner der Christenheit zielt Kierkegaards Kritik vornehmlich auf ihn. Mit der Prämisse der Verschiedenheit von weltlicher Sphäre und derjenigen des Glaubens wird dem Spiessbürger die „Gleichförmigkeit mit der Welt"6 zum Vorwurf gemacht, womit gemeint ist, dass er viel2 Peter Fonk: Zwischen Sünde und Erlösung. Entstehung und Entwicklung einer christlichen Anthropologie bei Søren Kierkegaard. Kevelaer 1990, S. 212. 3 Heinrich Roos: Søren Kierkegaard auf der Suche nach dem wahren Christentum. Wiesbaden 1961, S. 18. 4 Vgl. Ludwig Weimer: Wo ist das Christentum? Sören Kierkegaard neu gelesen. Bad Tölz 2004, S. 21. 5 Vgl. Fonk Sünde und Erlösung, S. 223. 6 Helmut Fritzsche: Kierkegaards Kritik an der Christenheit. Arbeiten zur Theologie, hrsg. v. Theodor Schlatter u.a., I. Reihe, Heft 27. Stuttgart 1966, S. 73. 3 mehr um die Belange (bzw. gerade um die Belanglosigkeiten) materiell-weltlicher Werte bemüht ist als um das Erbe des Glaubens7. Folglich unterscheidet Kierkegaard zwischen einer pervertierten Form des Christentums – der Christenheit – und einer eigentlichen Form, dem „wahren Christentum", das noch zu erreichen ist. Aufgrund dessen kann er auch sagen, dass innerhalb der Christenheit kein Wissen8 darum besteht, ein echter Christ zu sein und als solcher zu existieren, oder dass, anders gesprochen, die Welt in die Christenheit eingebrochen ist. Denn, wie Fonk schreibt, „Welt, das sind generell alle, die nicht Christen sind."9 Mit der zu starken Weltbezogenheit des Spiessbürgers aber hat Kierkegaard so seine Bedenken. Wo es um Welt geht, da geht es um Besitz. Besitz möchte nun einerseits gesichert werden, andererseits soll auch der Erwerb von neuem Besitz nicht allzu risikoreich sein. Das Besitzen wird demgemäss zu einem Habitus des Abwägens und Verrechnens, und mit Hilfe einer „spiessbürgerlichen Vernunft" wird nach dem Wahrscheinlicheren Ausschau gehalten, während das Unwahrscheinlichere, das unmöglich Scheinende aus dem Blickfeld verbannt wird. „Der Spiessbürger relativiert [...] alles Paradoxe und reduziert es prinzipiell auf Gesetze der Wahrscheinlichkeit. Für das Absurde hat er keinen Sinn."10 Dabei kann Kierkegaard zufolge die heilsame Entfaltung des Glaubens erst beginnen, wenn man auf das Paradoxe11 aufmerksam geworden ist und sich zu ihm verhält. In der im Grossen und Ganzen zufriedenen, überkonformistischen und saturierten Gemeinschaft der Christenheit jedoch gibt es keine Abweichungen mehr; die oberflächliche, dogmatisierte Religiösität des Man gilt dann schon als echter Glaubensvollzug. „[W]enn das Christsein etwas allgemein Anerkanntes ist, dann ist es unmöglich, auf das Wagnis der Glaubensentscheidung aufmerksam zu machen."12 Der ganze existenzielle Unterbau, die Krux des religiösen Lebens verschwindet in der seichten Eintönigkeit der Masse und entleert sich in Predigt, die durch den Prediger selbst widerlegt wird13. Aber: „Massen7 Für Kierkegaard besteht das Telos des Glaubens darin, die Nachfolge Christi anzutreten. Nur in der Gleichförmigkeit mit Christus kann sich das letztgültige „Verhältnis zu sich selbst" entfalten. Dazu mehr in Kapitel 3.3. 8 Vgl. Sören Kierkegaard: Die Krankheit zum Tode (et al.). Hrsg. v. Hermann Diem u. Walter Rest. München 42012, S. 80f. 9 Fonk Sünde und Erlösung, S. 230. 10 Wolfgang Janke: Existenzphilosophie. Berlin 1982, S. 54. 11 „Das" Paradox schlechthin ist für Kierkegaard die Fleischwerdung Gottes in Jesus Christus. Als fundamentales Ärgernis ist es Anlass für die vielen Arten von Verzweiflung, die Kierkegaard beschreibt – oder aber absolutes Glaubensbekenntnis, wenn man es zustimmend annimmt. Siehe dazu Krankheit zum Tode, S. 174f. 12 Fritzsche Kierkegaards Kritik, S. 74. 13 Vgl. Weimer Wo ist das Christentum?, S. 27. Tatsächlich würde es sich hierbei mehr um „christliches Gerede" handeln denn um eine wirkliche Predigt. Roos macht darauf aufmerksam, dass Kierkegaard strikt zwischen einer Predigt „mit Autorität Gottes" und einer leeren, inhaltslosen Rede unterscheidet. Vgl. Roos Søren Kierkegaard, S. 22. 4 glaube und Massenliebe sind kein echter Glaube und keine echte Liebe."14 Wenn es Kierkegaard daher um eine wirkliche Rehabilitation des existenziellen Glaubens gelegen war, musste er notwendig das Kollektive als hinderlich stigmatisieren und das glaubende Individuum, den „Einzelnen vor Gott" hervorheben. An diesen gesellschaftsreformatorischen Aspekten hat Kierkegaard besonders viel Anteilnahme genommen, wie die Geschehnisse der Jahre 1854 und 185515 dokumentieren. Weil er „sich [...] als Korrektiv sowohl der Kirche als des Bürgertums in ihren überspitzten Ansprüchen [fühlt]"16, steht er selbst als Einzelner am Rande der Gesellschaft, um für die Entpolitisierung und Entrationalisierung des Christentums zu kämpfen. „,Welt' wird Kierkegaard zum lebensbedrohlichen inneren Feind. Sie wird repräsentiert durch die dominierende Philosophie."17 Allen voran besass der christlich geprägte Hegelianismus einen gewaltigen Einfluss auf das zeitgenössische Geistesleben Dänemarks18, weshalb Kierkegaards Vernunftund Philosophiekritik in eine allgemeine Kritik des Hegelschen Systems mündet. 2.2) Christlich-philosophischer Diskurs: Hegels Systemphilosophie Stein des Anstosses bildet hier in erster Linie eine zu grosse Betonung der Vernunft, genauer die Wertschätzung der „spekulativen Vernunft", die Hegel propagiert. Durch den absoluten Anspruch des Logos sieht Kierkegaard die Unabhängigkeit und Freiheit des göttlichen Bereiches gefährdet, die Existenz Gottes für den Menschen geht in einem rationalistischen Zusammenhang auf: „Gott funktioniert, so wie es die Bewegung der Logik vorschreibt."19 Zudem verliert durch eine rein intellektuelle Auseinandersetzung mit Religion die je persönliche Glaubensentscheidung – das, worauf es Kierkegaard am meisten ankommt – an Gewicht; Glaube wird so von einer Angelegenheit des eignen Selbst zu einer reinen Angelegenheit des Kopfes degradiert. Weil „[...] die Realität der Sünde logisch aufgelöst und zu einer Durchgangsstufe verharmlost [wird], [hat] der Ernst jener endgültigen Entscheidung gegen Gott 14 Elfriede Tielsch: Kierkegaards Glaube. Der Aufbruch des frühen 19. Jahrhunderts in das Zeitalter moderner, realistischer Religionsauffassung. Göttingen 1964, S. 115. 15 Im Juni 1854 ereiferte sich Kierkegaard gegen den neu ordinierten Bischof Martensen, weil dieser seinen Vorgänger „als einen echten ,Wahrheitszeugen' gepriesen" hatte. Im Zuge der Radikalisierung seiner kirchli chen Kriterien konnte Kierkegaard das nicht unkommentiert stehen lassen. Seine Polemik erschien Ende des Jahres in einer Zeitung. Vgl. Weimer Wo ist das Christentum?, S. 26f. 16 Ebd., S. 138. 17 Fonk Sünde und Erlösung, S. 231. 18 Vgl. ebd., S. 231. 19 Ebd., S. 97. 5 - [...] keinen Bestand mehr."20 „[D]ass man das Christentum objektiv verteidigt und stützt, aber aus Vernunftgründen, um einer existenziellen Entscheidung zu entgehen"21, wird zur vernichtenden Diagnose seiner Zeit. Dabei gibt es für Kierkegaard keinen grösseren Frevel, als für die Fundierung des Christentums Verstandesbeweise anzuführen22. Ausgerechnet bei Hegel liegt das von ihm verhasste „theologische Geschwafel" der dänischen Geistlichen bereits in den Wehen, was Kierkegaard allein schon sehr missmutig gestimmt haben musste. Das Verhältnis zwischen dem Einzelnen und dem Allgemeinen betreffend, findet er im Hegelschen Werk ausserdem einen gänzlich anderen Schwerpunkt vor. Während, wie ich weiter unten noch ausführen werde, Kierkegaard wortwörtlich „alles auf den Einzelnen" setzt, versucht Hegel das Menschsein aus „der sittlichen Substanz" heraus zu begreifen, woraus seine Affinität für das Allgemeine resultiert. Bei ihm ist Werthaftigkeit ein bereits fertiges Faktum, das der menschlichen Kulturwelt entspringt und als „objektiver Geist" in den Institutionen von Familie und Staat sein unumstössliches, rigoroses23 Fundament erhält24. Kierkegaard hingegen plädiert dafür, dass Normen zuerst in einem Prozess der je individuellen Wertbildung des „subjektiven Geistes" entstehen und anschliessend als neue Explikationen in den objektiven Geist eingehen25. „Die Masse kann einen Gedanken überhaupt nicht formulieren; und der Einzelne geht dazu einen langen inneren Weg, der ihn vielfach in die Irre führt und [...] nie sicher ist, weil der errungene Glaube an einen Wert stets hypothetisch bleibt."26 Hierin versteckt sich schon das Wagnis, das Kierkegaard dem Glaubenden zu Gute hält: Ohne jede Möglichkeit einer Überprüfung von der Statthaftigkeit des Grossen Ärgernisses überzeugt zu sein. Aber obwohl Kierkegaard sich leidenschaftlich an Hegel und der unkritischen Übertragung seiner Theoreme auf die Theologie27 aufreibt, betont Tielsch, dass es auch Übereinstimmungen zwischen ihnen gibt. Die gewichtigste erkennt sie darin, dass beide „[...] das Wesen des Glaubens anders und tiefer geklärt"28 sehen möchten. Demgemäss hätte auch ein noch so radikaler Kierkegaard zumindest spüren müssen, dass es Hegel um die gleiche Sache geht – mit dem einzigen Unterschied, dass dessen Ansatz vom eigenen differiert. Da Hegels Methode al20 Ebd., S.91. 21 Fritzsche Kierkegaards Kritik, S. 32. 22 Vgl. Roos Søren Kierkegaard, S. 24. 23 Hegels Geschichtsphilosophie zufolge entfaltet sich die historische Zeit aus einer immanenten Notwendigkeit heraus, „und zwar so, dass das einzelne menschliche Individuum im weltgeschichtlichen Prozess völlig zu verschwinden droht." Vgl. dazu Niels Thulstrup: Kierkegaards Verhältnis zu Hegel und zum spekulativen Idealismus. Historisch-analytische Untersuchung. Stuttgart u.a. 1972, S. 11f. 24 Vgl. Tielsch Kierkegaards Glaube, S. 97. 25 Vgl. ebd., S. 97f. 26 Ebd., S. 98. 27 Vgl. Fonk Sünde und Erlösung, S. 100. 28 Tielsch Kierkegaards Glaube, S. 96. 6 lerdings in Kierkegaards Augen die ungünstigere von beiden ist, versucht er „doch wenigstens zu zeigen, dass Religiösität für jeden Menschen unerlässlich ist und durch Wissen nicht abgelöst werden kann."29 Und tatsächlich entdeckt sich bei Kierkegaard, wie Tielsch30 ausführt, eine viel zu ausdifferenzierte Vernunftkritik, als das man sie als reinen Antiintellektualismus und Antirationalismus abtun könnte31. Im Bestreben, auf die religiösen Missstände seiner Zeit zu sprechen zu kommen, muss er sich notgedrungen der Worte und des Verstandes – kurz: der Sphäre des Logos – bedienen, um sich mitteilen zu können. Dabei ist diese Diskrepanz nichts Seltsames, wenn man sich die Lehrsätze verschiedener mystischer Strömungen ins Gedächtnis ruft, die besagen, dass Wahrheit in ihrem Kern etwas Unaussprechliches sei. 2.3) Mystischer Diskurs: Der Abstand zu Gott Wie sieht es also mit Kierkegaards Verhältnis zur Mystik aus? Neben der immer wieder postulierten und im Grunde mystischen Forderung nach Unsagbarkeit wahrer Lebensanschauung32, deren letzter Konsequenz er sich mit seinen Schriften versagt, gestehen einige Forscher33 Kierkegaard zumindest eine Nähe zur christlichen Mystik ein. Allerdings bekräftigt er in gleichem Masse, dass er sich von solcherlei Ansätzen in sicherer Entfernung wissen will. Die Gründe, die Kierkegaard für diese Distanzierung vorbringt, sind zweierlei. Zum Einen „empfindet [er] es als eine ,Zudringlichkeit' gegen Gott, sich mit ihm vereinen zu wollen"34 und wendet sich damit gegen die Konzeption einer unio mystica. Im Verhältnis der Durchsichtigkeit des Selbst gegenüber Gott bleibt der „seinshafte Unterschied zwischen Mensch und Gott"35 bestehen, um das Streben des Glaubens auch weiterhin zu gewährleisten. „Als Erreichtes zerstört es den hypothetischen und anziehenden Charakter des Ideals und hebt ihn auf."36 Damit glaubt Kierkegaard, sich zur Genüge von der christlichen Mystik abgegrenzt zu 29 Ebd., S. 99. 30 Ebd., S. 142. 31 Vgl. Roos Søren Kierkegaard, S. 23ff. 32 Vgl. Janke Existenzphilosophie, S. 19 sowie Ulrich Klenke: Denken und Glauben beim jungen Kierkegaard. Kritische Strukturanalyse seiner Grundlegung der dialektischen Wahrheitsbestimmungen humaner und christlicher Existenz. Dissertation Münster 1963, S. 143f. 33 Vgl. Roos Søren Kierkegaard, S. 30f sowie Klenke Denken und Glauben, S. 150f. 34 Tielsch Kierkegaards Glaube, S. 144. 35 Josef Zapf: Die Bedeutung der Mystik für den christlichen Glauben in Gegenwart und Zukunft. In: Hermann Kochanek (Hg.): Die Botschaft der Mystik in den Religionen der Welt. München 1998, S. 242-270. Hier: S. 245. 36 Tielsch Kierkegaards Glaube, S. 144f. 7 haben. Vielleicht mag ihm das auch, in Betrachtung dessen, was er von ihr gekannt37 hatte, gelungen sein; tatsächlich aber lässt er sich mit seinem Beharren auf die Gott-Mensch-Differenz in eine Reihe namhafter Mystiker einordnen. „Mit der Mystik aller Religionen verbindet christliche Mystik [...] das Streben nach grösstmöglicher Einheit. Doch bleibt bei ihr Gott als ein lebendiges Du im Gegenüber erhalten."38 Aufgrund der so niemals ganz abstrakt gewordenen Relation zum Göttlichen trifft sie auch nicht der Vorwurf der Weltabgewandtheit, den Janke39 zusammen mit Kierkegaard formuliert. Vielmehr hatte der Gedanke der diesseitigen Vorläufigkeit sie mit dem Hintergrund einer vita activa im irdischen Dasein verankert. „Der Glaube an die Menschwerdung hat die christlichen Mystiker vor einer völligen Weltflucht bewahrt."40 Der Abgrund, den Kierkegaard zwischen sich und den Mystikern zu sehen glaubt, scheint damit zu schwinden. Dennoch sträubt er sich entschieden gegen eine vorbehaltlose Auffassung mystischer Erfahrung. Tielsch hat sich an einer Ursachenanalyse versucht. Ihrer Meinung nach resultiert Kierkegaards Ablehnung mystischer Euphorie gegenüber aus einer allgemeinen Missbilligung seiner eigenen peak experiences. „Seine Ekstase, soweit er sie hat, erscheint ihm fast immer nur als krankhaft. Er schämt sich dieser Zustände eher, als dass er sie als sein höchstes Erlebnis und Ziel vergöttert. [...] Er will von ihnen nichts wissen."41 Dazu passt, dass Kierkegaard die Dichterexistenz – deren Grundbedingungen ja nun auch in seiner eigenen bestehen – in Bezug auf das Religiöse als ungenügend erachtet, weil sie „dichtet statt zu sein"42. Obwohl der religiöse Dichter eine hinreichende „Gottesvorstellung mit sich trägt [und] vor Gott ist"43, veranlasst ihn seine Phantasie dazu, die Seinsweise Gottes nicht in aller Klarheit anzuerkennen, sondern zu modifizieren. „Aber gläubig sie zu übernehmen, das kann er nicht, oder, hier endet sein Selbst in Dunkelheit."44 Weiter als der Dichter des Religiösen kommt daher nur der Ritter des Glaubens. 37 So wird beispielsweise in Entweder – Oder und zahlreichen Tagebucheinträgen Kierkegaards eine Rezeption von und Auseinandersetzung mit Eckhartscher Mystik deutlich. Ob Kierkegaard aber das Anliegen mystischen Bestrebens voll und ganz hat nachvollziehen können, bleibt fraglich. Vgl. Hjördis Becker: Mirroring God. Reflections of Meister Eckhart's Thoughts in Kierkegaard's Work. In: Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook 2012, Heft 1. S. 3-24. Hier: S. 3. 38 Bardo Weiss: Zur Geschichte der Mystik im Christentum. In: Kochanek Botschaft der Mystik, S. 215-231. Hier: S. 229. 39 Janke Existenzphilosophie, S. 50. 40 Weiss Geschichte der Mystik, S. 230. 41 Tielsch Kierkegaards Glaube, S. 145. 42 Kierkegaard Krankheit zum Tode, S. 109. 43 Ebd., S. 110. 44 Ebd., S. 110. 8 3) Zur Konzeption des Glaubensritters Auf dem Weg zur „Durchsichtig[keit] in der Macht, die [ihn] setzte"45, durchläuft der Ritter des Glaubens eine anstrengende Odyssee verschiedener Verhältnisbestimmungen. Ich möchte sie folgend als Bewegung durch drei Kreise vorstellen. Dabei muss zunächst der Kreis der Masse (Kap. 3.1) durchbrochen werden, um den Kreis der Einsamen (Kap. 3.2) betreten zu können. Das erfolgreiche Bestehen der Glaubensprüfungen mündet alsdann in den Kreis der Existenz (Kap. 3.3). Wichtig ist, dass die drei Kreise nicht strikt voneinander getrennt sind, sondern gemeinsame Schnittmengen besitzen, um die fliessenden Übergänge vom einen in den anderen – sowohl als Aufals auch als Abstieg – zu verdeutlichen. Aufgrund der Überlagerung gegensätzlicher Zugkräfte tauchen dort jedoch die grössten Widerstände für den (angehenden) Glaubensritter auf. 3.1) Alleinsein auf Zeit: Der Gläubige und die Gesellschaft In seiner Konzeption des Glaubenden muss sich Kierkegaard manchmal den Vorwurf gefallen lassen, er plädiere letzten Endes für eine vollständige Auflösung des Allgemeinen, in der nur noch der Einzelne mit seinem jeweiligen Verhältnis „vor Gott" existiert. Diesem Einwand kann aber entgegengehalten werden, dass die Lösung des auf dem Weg zur Durchsichtigkeit Befindlichen aus der Gemeinschaft eine lediglich prozessuale und vorübergehende ist. „Sie ist [...] notwendig Vereinzelung während des Ringens um den noch nicht gefestigten Glauben. Sie hat aber nicht die Vereinzelung des Christen als Person zum Ziel."46 Wie in Kapitel 2.1 bereits festgestellt wurde, kann erst durch den Ausbruch aus dem Man der Einzelne sich mit dem Existenziellen der eignen Glaubensangelegenheit konfrontieren. Dabei erfordert es Mut, sich der vorgelebten „Anonymität und Verantwortungslosigkeit"47 der Masse zu verweigern und an der eingeschlagenen, zur Mündigkeit führenden Richtung festzuhalten. Vor allem die Profilierung einer eigenen, von der weltlichen Allgemeinheit unterschiedenen Autorität kann dann sehr schnell zu einer Felswand werden, an der der Aufsteigende zerschellt. Er muss ja nicht nur den Unwillen der Anderen gegen sich selbst aushalten. „Der Einfluss des jeweils bestehenden ,Allgemeinen' ist nur zunächst der Hauptfeind, der einer neuen, 45 Kierkegaard Krankheit zum Tode, S. 33. 46 Tielsch Kierkegaards Glaube, S. 116. 47 Janke Existenzphilosophie, S. 13. 9 selbständigen Wertbildung entgegensteht."48 Was den wesentlich kräftezehrenderen Part ausmacht, besteht vielmehr in der Kontinuität der bereits getroffenen Entscheidung oder, ethisch gesprochen, darin, sich fortwährend immer wieder neu zu wählen. Zuletzt ist nicht der entgegenschwappende Widerspruch das Anstrengende am „Gegen-den-Strom-Schwimmen"49, sondern die Erkenntnis, dass alle anderen der existenziellen Verantwortung vor Gott fliehen, während man selbst unter grösster Mühe mit ihr ringt. Es ist daher nicht so sehr die negative Abstossung als die positive Anziehung des Gemeinen, die den Emanzipationsprozess des Einzelnen erschwert. Kierkegaards Antwort auf dieses Dilemma ist verblüffend. Sie heisst: Egoismus. Es ist der Ratschlag des Sich-zu-sich-selbst-Verhaltens, der den Ausweg aus der Menge und die Schaufel zur Not gewordenen Freiheit aufzeigt. Die gegen diese Empfehlung aufkommenden Regungen50 können dabei kaum verwundern, wenn man bedenkt, dass allen voran im Christentum der Charakter der caritas eine bestimmende Rolle annimmt. Tatsache ist, dass sich der künftige Ritter des Glaubens – denn ein solcher ist er noch nicht – gegen die Anziehung und Autorität einer ansonsten autoritätshörigen Masse behaupten muss. Tielsch benennt das zentrale Problem: [E]r besinnt sich nicht zuerst darauf, was er selbst ist und welche besonderen Möglichkeiten der Geselligkeit er hat, und bildet dann eine entsprechende Gesellschaft, sondern er drängt vorzeitig und unbesonnen in irgendeinen Verein und hofft ohne triftigen Grund, dass dieser auch seine wahren Bedürfnisse befriedige. Er verfällt also auch als Sozialwesen der ,Krankheit zum Tode', stets etwas anderes zu wollen, als was ihm wirklich gemäss ist.51 Der innere Drang zur Gesellschaft – der innere Drang, nicht alleine zu sein – entpuppt sich als grösster Gegner des Leidensbereiten. Die Motivation dafür gründet in der existenziellen Angst, nach Verlassen der gesellschaftlichen Sphäre endgültig den Anschluss an die Gemeinschaft zu verlieren, gestaltet sich die Re-integration doch häufig als ebenso beschwerlich. „Wie nützlich der Gesellschaft auch ein [...] Leidender sein kann, sieht sie nicht und will sie nicht sehen."52 Mit zunehmendem Kampf allerdings schwindet der sich selbst auferlegte Zwang zur Geselligkeit und wandelt sich einstweilen in die normative Pflicht, mit seinen neu errungenen Überzeugungen der Gesellschaft zu Diensten zu sein (siehe Kapitel 2.2). „Der Glaubensritter muss und darf sich nur insoweit und insolange von der Welt zurückziehen, bis er die Wertbildung 48 Tielsch Kierkegaards Glaube, S. 117. Markierung von mir, M.R. 49 Roos Søren Kierkegaard, S. 15. 50 Vgl. Tielsch Kierkegaards Glaube, S. 100-118. 51 Ebd., S. 119f. 52 Ebd., S. 123. 10 vollendet hat. [...] Später [...] darf und soll er sogar zu einer Ideengemeinschaft mit anderen kommen [...]."53 Schafft er es nicht, dem gegenseitigen Spannungsverhältnis zwischen sich und der Allgemeinheit Widerstand zu leisten, scheitert sein Vorhaben. Für Kierkegaard besteht daher das einzige Hilfsmittel in einer gewissen Art von Eigensinn, um der Gefahr einer vorzeitigen und hinderlichen Inanspruchnahme durch den Konsens zu entgehen und schliesslich ein „selbstbewusster Einzelner"54 zu werden. Das Auf-sich-allein-gestellt-Sein und das Bedürfnis nach bzw. die Unfähigkeit zu Gesellschaftlichkeit münden zuletzt in die unterschiedlichen Verzweiflungsweisen, an denen sich Kierkegaard zufolge das jeweils aktuale Gottesverhältnis widerspiegelt. 3.2) Verzweiflung als Begleiterscheinung zunehmenden Glaubens Während die Masse ihr Dasein in nicht erkannter Selbstverlorenheit fristet55 und sich folglich auch nicht mit der ihr eigenen Verzweiflungsform der Endlichkeit und Schwäche auseinandersetzt56, vermag sie nicht über ihre allgemeine Zugehörigkeit zum Man hinauszukommen. Ein erster, notwendiger Schritt dazu bestünde in einem „gewissen Grad von Reflexion"57, wie Kierkegaard betont. Den allerdings hat der einsam Leidende bereits hinter sich gelassen, weshalb er sich nun voll und ganz der Gerichtsbarkeit der Verzweiflung zuzuwenden vermag. Diese „ist als existentielle Erkrankung dialektisch angelegt. Damit ist gesagt, dass sie sich als Krankheit zum Tode oder auch als Chance zum Glauben erweisen kann."58 Damit ist auch gesagt, dass die Überwindung der einen Verzweiflungsart (und somit ihre dialektische Aufhebung) in die nächsthöhere mündet – man aber gleichzeitig dem ersehnten Telos der Personwerdung ein Stück näher rückt, wie Janke andeutet. „Der Grad an Verzweiflung hängt von der Stufe des Bewusstseins ab. Steigende Bewusstheit intensiviert Leiden und Leidenschaft der Verzweiflung, Krisen der Verzweiflung steigern das Bewusstsein des eigenen Selbst."59 53 Ebd., S. 116f. 54 Ebd., S. 125. 55 Vgl. Janke Existenzphilosophie, S. 30. 56 Vgl. zur Verzweiflung der Schwäche ebd., S. 31 sowie zur Verzweiflung der Endlichkeit Kierkegaard Krankheit zum Tode, S. 55ff. 57 Kierkegaard Krankheit zum Tode, S. 83. 58 Fonk Sünde und Erlösung, S. 217. Vgl. auch Kierkegaard Krankheit zum Tode, S. 33. 59 Janke Existenzphilosophie, S. 30. Vgl. auch Fonk Sünde und Erlösung, S. 235. 11 Im Kreis der Einsamen zähle ich drei wichtige Verzweiflungsformen Kierkegaards, an denen sich der Leidende versuchen muss60: Zum Ersten die Verzweiflung aus Trotz, zum Zweiten und Dritten die stoische und die dämonische Verzweiflung. In der Verzweiflung aus Trotz wird der gesamte göttliche Bereich geleugnet, die Abhängigkeit des Einzelnen vom Unendlichen bestritten. „Das Ich setzt sich selbst – der göttlichen Allmacht zum Trotz."61 Es ist der Ruf nach vollkommener Autarkie, der den verzweifelt nach Freiheit Sehnsüchtigen sich gegen das Eine auflehnen lässt. Hierbei empfindet er sich gar nicht so sehr als Leidender, weil die Überzeugung eines Mächtegleichgewichts mit Gott ihn schon aus seiner zu Leid bestimmten Disposition zu befreien scheint62. Weil er aber auf dem Weg zu seinem inneren, eigenen Selbst63 stehen bleibt und freiwillig stagniert, existiert er immer noch im Charakter der Verzweiflung. Bei der stoischen Verzweiflung hingegen erwacht das Bewusstsein der eignen Leidensfähigkeit. Der Wille eines absoluten Selbstseins gegen Gott ist immer noch präsent, aber die Möglichkeit der Leidensaufhebung und der Gnade wird kategorisch abgelehnt. „Im Sinne einer stoisch-heroischen Existenzdeutung [...] pocht eine prometheische Existenz auf ihre Qual. Sie will sich nicht erlösen lassen, sondern verzweifelt sie selber sein."64 Für Kierkegaard ergibt sich die kompromisslose Zurückweisung allen Entgegenkommens aus der sich anbahnenden Erkenntnis, dass eine Inanspruchnahme der göttlichen Gnade durch den stoisch Verzweifelten ein Eingeständnis seines eignen „existenziellen Scheiterns"65 wäre. Denn „bei irgend jemand anderem Hilfe suchen, nein, das will er um alles in der Welt nicht, er will lieber, wenn es so sein sollte, mit allen Qualen der Hölle er selbst sein, als Hilfe suchen."66 Der Dämonische schliesslich treibt das Angebot der Gnade ad absurdum. Der Dämonische leidet bewusst. Er existiert bereits so lange in Leiden und Verzweiflung, dass er vom Seinsollen seiner Situation überzeugt ist. „Das Verharren in der Sünde wird zur Sucht. [...] Schlimmer noch als der Verlust der Gnade zeigt sich beim dämonisch Verzweifelten die Verweigerung der Gnade."67 Mit der Akzeptanz seines unaufhebbaren Gefallenseins „[...] hält [der Dämonische] 60 „Müssen" hier nur im Sinne einer vollständigen Abarbeitung aller drei Verzweiflungen bis zum Dämonischen verstanden, wenn der Leidende nicht schon vorher den Sprung in den Glauben wagt. Er kann seinem Leiden jederzeit entgehen, wenn er nur dem Göttlichen das letzte Zugeständnis macht. 61 Janke Existenzphilosophie, S. 32. 62 Vgl. Kierkegaard Krankheit zum Tode, S. 100f. 63 Vgl. Klenke Denken und Glauben, S. 145: „Gott hat für Kierkegaard nur Wirklichkeit in der ,Innerlichkeit' des Menschen, die der Mensch erst verwirklichen muss." 64 Janke, S. 33f. 65 Fonk Sünde und Erlösung, S. 214. 66 Kierkegaard Krankheit zum Tode, S. 104. 67 Fonk Sünde und Erlösung, S. 245f. 12 sich aus Bosheit an einen Gott im Hass wider das Dasein, [...] als Beweis gegen die Güte des Alls."68 Im Gegensatz zum stoisch Verzweifelten steht daher bei Annahme des letzten Zugeständnisses nicht bloss die Richtigkeit der dämonischen Meinung auf dem Spiel – sondern die Verruchtheit des Kósmos als Ganzem. Es ist, wie Kierkegaard zu Ende des ersten Teils der „Krankheit zum Tode" schreibt: „gerade dieser Trost würde ja sein Untergang sein – als Einwand gegen das ganze Dasein."69 Dennoch kann prinzipiell jede Verzweiflungsform ein möglicher Wegbereiter für den Glaubenssprung sein. Beim dämonisch Verzweifelten ist das zwar sehr unwahrscheinlich, jedoch nicht unmöglich. Denn wenn er – vielleicht aus einer dämonischen Laune heraus? – seine Bösartigkeit gegen das Göttliche fallen lässt, dann wird auch er der Gnade und der Befugnis zuteil, schliesslich doch noch in den Glauben springen zu dürfen. 3.3) Re-integration – Der Sprung in den Glauben Welches Weltverhältnis erwächst dem Glaubensritter, wenn er alle Verzweiflung hinter sich gelassen hat? Nachdem er dem Sosein Gottes und seiner selbst zugestimmt hat, muss er ja dennoch in der irdischen Sphäre, in den Grenzen der Welt existieren – ansonsten trifft ihn der Vorwurf der Weltabgewandtheit (vgl. Kapitel 2.3). Mit Bestehen des inneren Glaubenskampfes und der Konstitutionalisierung der „wahren Überzeugung" muss der Ritter des Glaubens sich nicht länger mehr von Gemeinschaft fernhalten. Sein Wissen um die relative Bedeutungslosigkeit weltlichen Besitzes und seine Gewissheit um das, was er für die Aufgabe einer weltlichen Existenzfundierung gewonnen hat, verhelfen ihm zu einer zwar distanzierten, aber nicht – wie im historischen Christentum sonst üblich – irdisch-leiblosen Seinsweise. „Es ist ein Sein ,in der Welt' und zugleich ein Sein in der ,Entweltlichung' [...]."70 Im religiösen Stadium erhält der gefestigte Mensch das Recht zurück, sich an eben jenen ästhetischen Dimensionen des Lebens zu erfreuen, auf die er bei Wahl seines ethischen Selbst freiwillig verzichtet hatte71. Diese wiedergewonnene Fähigkeit zum an sich schuldlosen Genuss ist vergleichbar mit dem Bestreben nach Ausgleich von kör68 Janke Existenzphilosophie, S. 34. 69 Kierkegaard Krankheit zum Tode, S. 108. Markierung von mir, M.R. 70 Fritzsche Kierkegaards Kritik, S. 66. 71 Vgl. Tielsch Kierkegaards Glaube, S. 92. 13 perlichen und seelischen Belangen, wie es beispielsweise der hinduistische Tantrismus und der Vajrayana-Buddhismus lehren. Denn die Möglichkeit, sich frei und lustvoll zur Welt verhalten zu können, wird im Gegenzug durch die ständige Erinnerung der eigenen Schuldund Sündhaftigkeit erkauft. Seine Existenz endlich vor dem Göttlichen bekannt zu haben, bedeutet keinen Freispruch von Schuld, zumindest nicht ihre blosse Aufhebung; sie geht vielmehr aus der bedingungslosen Akzeptanz der eigenen, bisher angehäuften Schuld hervor72. Kraft der Gnade Gottes aber, um die sich der Ritter des Glaubens im Ringen mit dem „Schwindel der Freiheit" verdient gemacht hat, erlischt die sich zurücknehmende Wirkung des Schuldeingeständnisses. „[...] [D]ie Gnade gibt die Erlaubnis, in der Welt ,weltlich' zu leben, jedoch in der Haltung der inneren Entweltlichung, im ständigen Absterben von allem selbstischen Widerstand gegen die Gnade."73 Hieran wird erkenntlich, dass selbst mit Erreichen der „Einen Forderung" der Prozess der Glaubensübung nicht zum Stillstand kommt. Im Gegenteil muss auch und sogar im durchsichtigen Verhältnis zum Göttlichen der ergebene Charakter des Glaubensritters immer wieder neu erprobt werden. Fonk findet dafür die folgenden Worte: „Das Personsein des Menschen ist nicht eo ipso gesichert, sondern konstituiert sich im Verhalten, in der Stellungnahme, in einem [dynamischen] Akt. [...] Das ist die existenzielle Aufgabe. Sie kann verfehlt werden."74 Die existenzielle stellt sich dem Menschen als die ewige Aufgabe75. Selbst im Stadium des Glaubens erlischt ihr Anspruch nicht. Als vollends Glaubender hat man sich bereits entschieden; was jetzt noch anfällt, ist einzig in der unendlichen Konsequenz der Einen Entscheidung zu leben und zu handeln. Das bedeutet vor allem, dass man die jeweilige Autorität der drei Kreise genau abzuwägen sich genötigt sieht und ein Gleichgewicht finden muss zwischen der Radikalität der eigenen Glaubenserfahrung und der seinen Mitmenschen geschuldeten Nachsicht. Aber vielleicht resultiert die Odyssee des Glaubensritters ja auch in eine Form der milde waltenden Gleichgültigkeit: Ob der Grosse Geist nun Freude oder Leid anblickt – es ist ihm beides zu gleichem Teile nah und fern. 72 Zu Schuld bei Kierkegaard vgl. Krankheit zum Tode, S. 18, S. 113ff & S.133-138 sowie Fonk Sünde und Erlösung, S. 217. Zum Bewusstsein der Sünde vgl. auch Ken Wilber: Halbzeit der Evolution. Der Mensch auf dem Weg vom animalischen zum kosmischen Bewusstsein. München u.a. 11984, S. 352f. 73 Fritzsche Kierkegaards Kritik, S. 67. 74 Fonk Sünde und Erlösung, S. 211. 75 Vgl. ebd., S. 212 sowie Klenke Denken und Glauben, S. 145. 14 4) Fazit Wie fällt nun eine Betrachtung des Kierkegaardschen Glaubensweges aus? Von einer herkömmlichen Auffassung des Christentums, bei der der Leitspruch „Erlösung durch Busse" gilt, scheint er weit entfernt. Vielmehr steht bei Kierkegaard die schonungslose Auseinandersetzung des Glaubenden mit sich selbst im Vordergrund, wodurch die kathartische Wirkung eines „Credo, ergo sum"76 erst am Ende einer radikalen Selbstgewahrnis aufwartet. Der Kreis des Allgemeinen, die Sphäre des Spiessbürgers, des Man und der Christenheit muss verlassen werden, um die mühevolle Aufarbeitung der das Selbst fortwährend bedrohenden Verzweiflungsweisen zu beginnen. Die Autorität der Herde muss hinter sich gelassen werden, diejenige der eigenen Person muss neu gebildet, das Gleichgewicht zur Welt muss neu umrissen werden, wenn der Glaubensritter im Besitz der „wahren Überzeugung" als reines Selbst zwischen all den übrigen Verzweifelten existieren möchte. Bei seiner Konzeption des Glaubensritters nähert sich Kierkegaard durchaus mystischem Erleuchtungsdenken an, was vor allem an der Vorstellung einer zunehmenden Sündenbewusstheit als auch an der Betonung eines Ausgleichs (bzw. seiner Möglichkeit) zwischen ästhetisch-leiblichem und ethisch-geistigem Bereich deutlich wird. Hätte Kierkegaard die Philosophie und Weisheitstraditionen des fernen Ostens eingehender studieren können, so hätte er sich gewiss – womöglich einem Schopenhauer gleich – an einigen interessanten Gedanken ähnlicher Motivation erfreuen können. Denn er mag zwar eine Abneigung gegenüber der idealistischen Spekulation besitzen; aber der Erfahrungsbereich der Mystik ist, wie er selbst eingesteht77, kein Gespinst der spekulierenden Vernunft. Sie hat Wirklichkeit in dem ernsten, wahrhaftigen Aufeinandertreffen des Menschen mit dem Unbegreiflichen des religiösen Gefühls. Dass der Weg zur reinen Selbstund Gottesschau zu einem Grossteil durch die thanatische Verzweiflung begleitet wird, macht das allgemeine Zurückschrecken in der Anonymität durchaus verständlich. Aber für Kierkegaard bedeutet gerade ihr Vorhandensein die Möglichkeit und schliesslich die Gewissheit, dass jeder das Notwendige dafür besitzt, vollends Person und Mensch zu sein. „Sie verdüstert das Dasein nicht, sondern bringt Licht in ein verschwiegenes Dunkel. [...] Der Weg der Verzweiflung führt die Existenz in die Krise eines Entweder/ Oder: das Selbst ewig zu verlieren oder aber eigentlich erst zu gewinnen."78 76 Vgl. Kierkegaard Krankheit zum Tode, S. 129. 77 Vgl. Tielsch Kierkegaards Glaube, S. 144. 78 Janke Existenzphilosophie, S. 29. 15 5) Literaturund Quellenverzeichnis Primärliteratur Kierkegaard, Sören: Entweder – Oder. Teil II. Hrsg. v. Hermann Diem u. Walter Rest. München 1988. Kierkegaard, Sören: Die Krankheit zum Tode (et al.). Hrsg. v. Hermann Diem u. Walter Rest. München 42012. Sekundärliteratur Becker, Hjördis: Mirroring God. Reflections of Meister Eckhart's Thoughts in Kierkegaard's Work. In: Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook 2012, Heft 1. S. 3-24. Fonk, Peter: Zwischen Sünde und Erlösung. Entstehung und Entwicklung einer christlichen Anthropologie bei Søren Kierkegaard. Kevelaer 1990. Fritzsche, Helmut: Kierkegaards Kritik an der Christenheit. Arbeiten zur Theologie, hrsg. v. Theodor Schlatter u.a., I. Reihe, Heft 27. Stuttgart 1966. Janke, Wolfgang: Existenzphilosophie. Berlin 1982. Klenke, Ulrich: Denken und Glauben beim jungen Kierkegaard. Kritische Strukturanalyse seiner Grundlegung der dialektischen Wahrheitsbestimmungen humaner und christlicher Existenz. Dissertation Münster 1963. Roos, Heinrich: Søren Kierkegaard auf der Suche nach dem wahren Christentum. Wiesbaden 1961. Thulstrup, Niels: Kierkegaards Verhältnis zu Hegel und zum spekulativen Idealismus. Historisch-analytische Untersuchung. Stuttgart u.a. 1972. Tielsch, Elfriede: Kierkegaards Glaube. Der Aufbruch des frühen 19. Jahrhunderts in das Zeitalter moderner, realistischer Religionsauffassung. Göttingen 1964. Weimer, Ludwig: Wo ist das Christentum? Sören Kierkegaard neu gelesen. Bad Tölz 2004. Weiss, Bardo: Zur Geschichte der Mystik im Christentum. In: Kochanek, Hermann (Hg.): Die Botschaft der Mystik in den Religionen der Welt. München 1998. S. 215-231. Wilber, Ken: Halbzeit der Evolution. Der Mensch auf dem Weg vom animalischen zum kosmischen Bewusstsein. München u.a. 11984. Zapf, Josef: Die Bedeutung der Mystik für den christlichen Glauben in Gegenwart und Zukunft. In: Kochanek, Hermann (Hg.): Die Botschaft der Mystik in den Religionen der Welt. München 1998. S. 242-270.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
ABSTRACT: Freedom is an impossibility; the dream of having the ability to choose anything one wants is hampered by reality. However, what aspect of reality ultimately hampers the birth of true freedom? What I propose is that reality itself makes freedom impossible. Furthermore, I also make the logical assumption, from the evidence I have found, that the only entity that can have freedom is a being that is formless, timeless, featureless, and is an infinite environment of nothing. While my studies today haven't been focused on that topic, it is a noteworthy observation. I also prove Determinism, and show why the definitions of free will given by Libertarians, Compatibilists, and Incompatibilists each fall. I also provide some insight into the reactive basis of human psychology, further proving Determinism. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I have reasons to conclude that humans by nature are a reactive species. I propose that freedom and information are mutually exclusive. I also propose that, as the future is nothing but a series of cause-and-effects, that freedom cannot exist as the future has been predetermined. First however, the definitions of abstract concepts such as "future", "freedom", "information", and "impossible/mutually exclusive" must be defined. In this paper, I define ​future​ as any oncoming event, situation, scenario, era, or any other words corresponding with a moment in time that can happen at any period in time. In other words, in this paper I define "future" as anything that can happen at any possible moment still to come. I define "information" as any facts or information that are immediately present or experienced. This also includes any past facts or information, any present facts or information, and any future facts or information. This can be written, spoken, experienced, or thought. Fundamentally speaking, the very nature of information is to provide assistance in selectively picking out the best possible choice in a series of all possible choices. After all, is it not the purpose of information to merely be a means to prolong survival? And is it not that survival is the ultimately goal of each and every living organism? Fundamentally, survival and information go hand in hand; the pursuit of survival is ultimately the pursuit of information. And the pursuit of information is ultimately nothing but the eradication of freedom. As I've said earlier, the more information one gets about his/her surroundings, the less options they have. I define freedom in this paper as the human capacity for choice, with absolute freedom then meaning the human capacity for picking any humanly possible choice in any given scenario. Furthermore, absolute freedom means that any choice made will spur one of many possible resolutions, and so on and so forth. Finally, I define "impossible"/"mutually exclusive" as descriptions of a scenario in which two things cannot coexist in any real or hypothetical world, in this case the things being freedom and information. With those terms now clearly defined, I will now proceed with my case. 1. Future events can be predicted through the processing of all possible information of the immediately previous time. Ultimately, the future is nothing but a response to the present, and the present being nothing more than a response to the past. With this logic, then the immediate future is nothing more than a response of the immediate present, which is nothing more than a response to the immediate past. Thus, any future will be the result of the present which is then the result of the past. Thus, through closure, any period of time in the future is a direct result of any moment of time in the past. What I propose is that any moment in the future can be predicted from a singular moment of the past. After all, if a moment in the past can be used to predict the next immediate moment, and if that moment could be used to predict the next immediate moment, then after enough repetitions of this procedure a singular moment in the past could predict a future far, far away from direct immediacy. Fundamentally, this means that the future can be predicted from a singular moment of the either the past or present. ​(​Obviously, this means that, in a singular moment, each and every single thing must be documented, analyzed, and understood in order to correctly predict the future. I am making the hypothetical assumption that such an object, like a supercomputer, exists that can effectively analyze, document, and chart each and every single thing​). ​In fact, this object would have to be much like Laplace's Demon. (​http://www.stsci.edu/~lbradley/seminar/laplace.html​) As the future can be predicted from a singular moment, then the future is nothing but a product of that exact singular moment. This ultimately means that the action of making a choice in any singular moment has been predetermined beforehand by another moment. This rules out the possibility of freedom, as the very definition of freedom is the ability of picking one of any humanly possible choice. However, this clearly contradicts the logical process that I've just explained, as there is no room for freedom in a situation that has all been predetermined. In the hypothetical situation I've just described, the complete openness of all information directly leads to accurate, god-like prediction, which then directly removes the possibility of any kind of freedom as there is no choice in the order of events that follows. Thus, in a situation of total information, there cannot exist any kind of freedom. In order to explain my stance, I present a scenario in which a ball is bouncing inside a room. If one were to know all properties of the ball and the room, then they could predict where the ball would go and when it would get there. In fact, a sufficiently intelligent being could gather all these properties, and from a certain instant of time, piece back the path where the ball went and chart where it would go. The future is akin to the ball in that scenario; from any singular moment in time a sufficiently intelligent being, after gathering all properties from that singular moment in time, could show what had happened and what will happen. Clearly, it can be observed that in a position of absolute information there exists no freedom. However, there cannot exist absolute freedom in any situation as there is no humanly possible way to achieve a position of absolute non-information. Given that my first argument logically stands, I then proceed to my next argument. In the following three arguments, I will show why there can be no situation in which freedom exists, as freedom can only exist in a position of absolute non-information. 2. A person is nothing more than the sum of his/her experiences.(Set-up Argument) Fundamentally, the freedom, or the capacity for choice that a person may have, is only situational. In reality, as I stated in argument 1 and will state in argument 3, there is no other choice than the one we choose. In fact, if the exact same person were to be put in the same situation with the same characteristics, the same choice would be chosen each and every single time (I'll expand on this in argument 3). By saying "the exact same person", I mean that this person has the exact same characteristics and experiences as another just like him, and so on and so forth. We differentiate a person from another, fundamentally, on their perspective. And their perspectives are nothing more than the analyses of their experiences. Thus, if the perspective determines the identity of a person, and if experience determines perspective, through closure we can clearly see that perspective determines identity. However, if we were to remove/change/modify any experiences of that person (who I'll call Original), then the product of that change will be a vastly different person with vastly different experiences (who I'll call New). New's subsequent choices are irrelevant to today's paper, and the only person my entire paper will focus on is Original. This idea uses the general applications of Chaos Theory, which is the basis of mathematics that a minute change has much different consequence than the original. By that logic, that means that the modification of Original's experiences changed him/her into New, by definition making a new person. This means that a person is only who he/she is solely because of the experiences they have, and the modification of any single experience is creating an entirely different person. Thus, I use this argument as both a clarification and a statement about a person. If we were to assume that a person in a single scenario with the capacity to make different decisions would have made different decisions, I'd disagree and state that the decision had already been made prior to the actual presentation of the situation itself, as stated by Argument One. Furthermore, I also add that the fundamental basis of the identity of a person is nothing more than the experiences they have. After all, the most basic thing that separates a person from another is the experiences, or the story, that they each have. This rules out any possible multiverses or alternate universes that could be used as an attack against this argument, as I've clearly stated that the identity of a person is not the name, genetic code, or anything else. It is ultimately experience. And no two people across the known universe will ever share the same experiences. I offer another example. There exists a man named Steve, and his life is somehow uploaded into a computer, which then runs a series of simulations by placing the same Steve in different locations at the same moment in time. For example, one simulation of Steve places him in Zimbabwe, whereas another places him in La Paz. Fundamentally, what I propose is that Steve would react differently in those two places solely because the environment itself is completely different. I now extend the example. If this simulation of Steve were to be placed in the exact environment in the exact same time, they would both perform the same actions solely because the environment, in combination with his experiences, create the same reaction. 3. Each choice chosen has been predetermined by the experiences one has already had.(Set-up Argument) When making any decision, there is a logical reasoning behind it, either consciously or subconsciously. If all of those reasonings(which include experiences) were to be completely documented and analyzed for a certain person, then one can predict the decision that person would make without fail. This logically means that a person's reasonings directly provide input to the decision he or she may make. However, as I've stated earlier, all logical reasoning a person has is inherently determined by the experiences he/she may have, which fundamentally means that The impact of this realization means that, while the facade of freedom may give the appearance of the capacity of choice, this ultimately means that the choice has been predetermined from the very start. In other words, there ultimately is no freedom when it comes to making a choice as the choice made has been predetermined from the very start. A situation having a multitude of choices is not the same as freedom, as freedom is the ​HUMAN ​capacity of making any possible decision. But what about situations impacting a decision? These kind of "extraneous" situations are essentially any kind of outside events that impact the actual decision made. For example, wouldn't the consultation of a friend or close relative then mean that the decision made couldn't have been predicted as there was outside interference. To this, I disagree. I believe that previous conditions and situations actually indicate both what kind of people the person would listen to as well the situations in which the person would turn to for advice. To further prove this point I will split up all external scenarios into two groups: human and non-human. I will explain the latter first, then proceed to the former. a. Non-human entities i. Any non-human entity is incapable of intelligent thought; that is to say they are acted upon directly by their urges or by the forces of nature. Thus, we can consider their actions themselves irrelevant to the topic today as they are independent agents that must be reacted to and cannot act themselves. Thus, these kinds of external forces are subject to the interpretation of the person viewing it/them. For the sake of understanding, I will provide an example. ii. Example: Imagine a rock falling from the middle of nowhere. The rock has no independent thought or thinking capabilities; this event is merely caused by the forces of nature. However, if a person were to view this rock falling from nowhere, then the person would interpret that action in a seemingly infinite amount of ways. However, this interpretation could be predicted based off the experiences of the person that encounters the freak of nature. Depending on the position of the rock, the timing of the rock, the weather, and seemingly infinite other variables, the person(whose experiences/emotions/etc.) will make a decision solely by recollecting past memories/thoughts/etc. iii. Fundamentally, dependent situations are and always will be subject to interpretation, with the interpretation itself being decided by experiences/memories/etc. If a person's entire life experiences/thought process/etc be documented and analyzed, then it clear that the interpretation of an autonomous action would be decided without fail. iv. As dependent situations are always interpretive, and as the reaction to the dependent situation is always predictable, then b. Human entities i. Human entities are independent in that they are capable of acting on their own accord. Their actions are done under the will of the human mind, either consciously or unconsciously. This means that human beings are their own agents of action, and the actions that do occur always stem from either the conscious or unconscious mind. However, each action stems from a certain place of origination. For example, one cries because he/she is sad, another screams when he/she is alone. These responses vary from person to person based on the experiences they have, meaning that these responses are reactions to the events happening around the person. ii. However, the cause of the action means nothing compared to the reaction or interpretation of it. Regardless of the intent of the action, the interpretation of the action decides the response. And, as stated earlier, the interpretation of the response can be predicted 100% of the time if all the sufficient information on the person making the response is found. iii. However, a response made in a situation with two or more people and two or more non-human entities can also be predicted. As I stated earlier, a reaction to either a human or a non-human entity can be predicted based off the the reactor; that is to say based of the action by the human entity or any of the multitudes of variables regarding non-human entities will give a response predetermined instead of chosen. Thus, the addition of more objects, human or non-human, that the person is reacting to is ultimately just recollecting on those same experiences with the addition of new ones that may happen in terms of the order of the experiences. In other words, the reaction to a multitude of non-human and human entities is based on both the experiences that the reactor has had and the order of the things that he/she will experience. c. The person also has no choice both in the order of things that he/she will experience nor in the responses i. As I've stated in both arguments one and two, any decision made by a person can be predicted from birth with completely thorough information. While the actions of independent agents such as human or non-human entities may initially seem unpredictable, the responses to the actions by those entities are anything but. d. The world is nothing more than a combination of human and non-human entities i. This goes without saying according to my definitions, but I think it would be helpful to make this statement explicitly. e. As the world is nothing but a combination of non-human and human entities, a person's choices are nothing but a reaction to the world. i. These reactions have been predetermined, as I stated earlier ii. There is no moment in time where anyone has the capacity of making a decision that is not just a reaction to non-human and human factors. 4. Information immediately limits the freedom of action. First, I propose that the gathering of new information immediately limits choice. And, as I stated earlier, the limiting of choice is the destruction of freedom. i. Information is constantly picked up regardless of choice 1. As per my definition of information, any new info is gathered each and every second of each and everyday. Colors, smells, the feeling of asphalt, everything is information. This information is stored in the supercomputer we call the brain, and is readily accessed anytime one either wishes or needs it. This ultimately means that the information we pick up is inherently limiting, as it forces acinformationment of a certain object or objects. 2. This information is stored regardless of choice; we often remember information that is irrelevant. For example, whenever we take a test, don't we remember some random song or smell or feeling instead of the information we so vitally, immediately need? 3. Furthermore, that information is never truly gone; there is no way to completely, truly remove any kind of information that one may have. ii. The information we have immediately limits options. 1. Any object we sense forces us to consider that object a. This is either done consciously or subconsciously. For example, when reading this paper, you must consider the words, the grammar, the lighting, the smell, the location, and a variety of other objects. b. This removes freedom as we do not have the ready choice to consider it or not. The information we receive forces us to consider that information. 2. Any language we learn limits both our understanding of the world as well as the way thoughts occur inside our mind a. We think in terms of language i. That automatically limits our understanding of the world, as objects indescribable through a certain language either disregard that object or simplify it. b. We communicate through language, inherently limiting abstract concepts into understandable, unrepresentative truths c. Furthermore, languages differ from person to person, groups to groups, and countries to countries. 5. Information is naturally obsessive Furthermore, I also say that information, regardless of the kind that we get, forces us to realize one's present condition and, more importantly, do whatever we can to change it. Indeed, information is a catalyst to change, regardless of choice. I argue that the information we receive points out one's conditions of life. For example, a poor man wouldn't know if he was poor if he didn't see someone richer. Likewise, a rich man wouldn't know he was rich unless he saw someone poor. Now, the poor man sees what he could be through hard work and the rich man sees what he could be without any work. Both of them, at that singular moment, attempt to change their condition as to further prevent what could happen. Clearly, the limitation of freedom in this situation is obvious as both of their efforts, from going to any infinite options, become focused on changing their respective living conditions. However, the application of information to change is found in every single aspect of life. A fat man knows he is fat, and either chooses to disregard it or to cut it down. A widow knows she is lonely, and either spends time alone or tries to find company in others. And so on and so forth. The information we see is but a catalyst to obsessive thought, and obsessive thought being the direct removal of complete choice. I now also say that all thought is by nature obsessive. I define obsessive thought as something that sticks to the mind and forces consideration upon every moment. Thoughts by definition are abstract concepts that come up in a time of relevance. However, no thought is truly ever gone; it is instead in the shadows waited to be used at a time of need. How often has one remembered the beat of a song they last heard years ago? Or the name of teacher of years ago? This information never really gets destroyed or lost, it just comes up when needed. This means that, subconsciously, those thoughts could be considered, handled, and thought about without direct thought. If no thought truly ever disappears, then are they not being considered by the subconscious mind at every single moment? And, as the thought never disappears or dissipates, isn't the thought by definition obsessive? Especially if it comes out of an involuntary choice. And, as all thoughts are merely the analysis of information, and as the information is involuntarily picked up all the time, as I stated earlier, then through closure all information is obsessive and restricts freedom of thought. 6. Freedom is fundamentally impossible to achieve. We can fundamentally consider freedom as a scale. On one end, which is currently the one we live in, freedom is nonexistent due to information. On the other end must exist freedom, which requires no information of any kind. Thus, the only thing that can truly have freedom is something that has no information of any kind, and the environment it inhabits cannot have any information of any kind. However, as that is beyond base human comprehension, we won't go there. Instead, I will show why the Libertarian, Compatibilist, and Incompatibilist ideas of freedom all fall. Let's consider a typical situation that requires choice that will stand for every interpretation of freedom for the three groups above. A man, named Steve, is in a room. In front of him are five completely different, completely unrelated, completely independent objects. From a libertarian perspective, freedom is nothing but choice fueled by a certain desire. David Hume, defines liberty as "a power of acting or of not acting, according to the determination of the will." In Steve's scenario, according to Libertarians like Hume, the object he picks is determined by his individual, free-willed choice. As I have stated before, this Libertarian perspective clearly falls because of Arguments 1 and 3. Steve won't be able to pick up different objects unless he was a different person. Classical Compatibilists define freedom as the capacity for making a decision when there are no impediments in the way. Hobbes says that his research showed him that a person has freedom when he/she has "no stop, in doing what he has the will, desire, or inclination to doe [​sic​]" (​Leviathan​, p.108). However, the problem with this kind of compatibilism is that the "will, desire, or inclination" is completely from the environment. In other words, that kind of desire is produced by the environment, and thus is not an indication of free will but in fact the exact opposite. Contemporary Compatibilists have to refute the Consequence argument. For reference, the Consequence Argument is basically this: 1. No one has power over the facts of the past. 2. No one has power over the fact that the facts of the past entail every fact of the future. 3. Therefore, no one has power over the facts of the future. As we can see, this is basically the same as Arguments One, Two, and Three, which I've already proven. Steve, in this case, has already picked his choice before entering the situation because of his past. Finally, Incompatibilism falls as well. Incompatibilism ultimately comes down to two arguments: 1. Arguments for the claim that determinism makes it impossible for us to ​cause and control our actions in the right kind of way. 2. Arguments for the claim that determinism deprives us of the ​power or ability to do or choose otherwise​. The Argument 1 for Incompatibilism(which I'll refer to as Incompatibilism 1), ultimately follows Chisholm's argument: "Each of us, when we act, is a prime mover unmoved. In doing what we do, we cause certain events to happen, and nothing - or no one - causes us to cause these events to happen. (Chisholm 1964, p. 32)" However, Incompatibilism 1 clearly falls because of my Arguments One, Two, Three, and Four. In other words, we cannot cause any certain events to happen because our free will is nothing more than an extension of our past. Steve, yet again, is determined by his past. Next, Incompatibilism 2 falls because it implies that we have power over our surroundings. Regardless of everything that we may assume about freedom, we are still subject to our surroundings. Our choices are controlled by the environment, and the subsequent choices are controlled by the environment as well. Let's take the example of Steve that I brought up earlier. Advocates of Incompatibilist 2 would say that Steve has proven the existence of free will if, in the exact same situation and circumstances, he picks different objects. However, I've already argued why it would impossible for him to pick a different object in the same scenarios in Arguments 1, 2, 3, and 4. However, I also argue that even if he were somehow able to pick a different object, that he still does not have freedom. As I stated, freedom is the human capacity for picking an infinite amount of choices that have infinitely different repercussions. However, in my example, Steve is given 5 different objects, ​removing ​the freedom that he may have had. If Steve were to truly have freedom, then he wouldn't have to just pick 5 objects, but have the choice between infinite different ones. Steve is a victim to his surroundings, and that robs him of his freedom. As I stated earlier, if a being were to have true freedom, it would have to formless, timeless, spaceless, and ultimately be nothing. As our world today is full of information and details that limit freedom, it only logically stands to assume that a being with absolute freedom has no details at all. Conclusion Throughout my entire paper, I made a series of statements, or contentions, that ultimately aimed to prove the mutual exclusivity of freedom and information. I've provided a series of arguments that ultimately displayed both the mutual exclusivity of freedom and information, as well as providing a series of explanations why determinism is the only possible explanation of our interpretation of free will. My basic point in this paper is summarized as such: 1. All information is picked up regardless of choice. 2. Choice is the basis of freedom. 3. Information being picked up is involuntary, and thus not by choice. 4. Information restricts choice. 5. Information restricts freedom. While that is the essence of my argument, I've also shown that humans are incapable of performing an independent action, as everything a person thinks and does is a product of his/her environment. I've also shown that people have no real control over their actions, as their actions are interpretations of the environment. And, as information restricts freedom, it leads to logical reasoning that the only organism that truly has freedom is one that is not restricted by it's environment, has no characteristics in either it's being or it's environment, and is somehow free because of no restriction. While one may argue that this organism has no freedom compared to, say a dog or a jellyfish in it's ecosystem, I argue that they are products of their environment, and are controlled by the rules and law that environment enforces. This creates the illusion of freedom, or the illusion of action, not freedom itself. How the formless, timeless, and shapeless being has freedom I do not know, only that it is the only logical solution. Bibliography 1. Libet Experiments Retrieved July 24, 2017, from Information Philosopher http://www.informationphilosopher.com/freedom/libet_experiments.html 2. Laplace's Demon Retrieved July 24, 2017, from Information Philosopher http://www.informationphilosopher.com/freedom/laplaces_demon.html 3. Hoefer, C. (2003, January 23). Causal Determinism. Retrieved July 24, 2017, from https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/determinism-causal/ 4. McKenna, M., & Coates, D. J. (2004, April 26). Compatibilism. Retrieved July 24, 2017, from plato.stanford.edu/entries/compatibilism/#ClaCom. Accessed 24 July 2017 5. O'Connor, T. (2002, January 07). Free Will. Retrieved July 24, 2017, from https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/freewill/ 6. Vihvelin, K. (2003, October 14). Arguments for Incompatibilism. Retrieved July 24, 2017, from ​https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/incompatibilism-arguments/
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom in Licensing Contracts for Electronic Journals Alan Rubel and Mei Zhang Alan Rubel is Assistant Professor in the School of Library and Information Studies, Program in Legal Studies, at the University of Wisconsin, Madison; e-mail: [email protected]. Mei Zhang is a PhD student in the School of Library and Information Studies at the University of Wisconsin, Madison; e-mail: mzhang48@ wisc.edu. © 2015 Alan Rubel and Mei Zhang, Attribution-NonCommercial (http://creativecommons.org/ licenses/by-nc/3.0/) CC BY-NC n July 2011, the U.S. Attorney for the Eastern District of Massachusetts issued an indictment for Aaron Swartz, an Internet activist and fellow at the Harvard Safra Center. The indictment alleged that Swartz had used a guest account to log in to servers at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) and run a script to automatically download thousands of articles from JSTOR. After the activity was detected and his access blocked, Swartz took various measures to continue the downloading, including masking his IP and MAC addresses and, later, entering a server closet and directly connecting his computer to MIT servers. Based on these allegations, Swartz was charged with multiple federal crimes, among them violating the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act (CFAA).1 The case received substantial media attention at the time of the indictment, again in the wake of Swartz's suicide in January 2013, and once again in July 2013 when MIT released a report on the case and MIT's involvement.2 Two features of the indictment are of particular interest for this paper. First is the basis for the charges. Swartz's activity violated the terms of service for guest accounts at MIT and violated the terms of MIT's license contract with JSTOR, which among other things prohibited automated downloading and downloading all articles in single issues of journals. Such unauthorized access (or exceeding of authorized access) to "protected computers" (in other words, computers used in interstate commerce) provides grounds for charges under the CFAA.3 Hence, the case illustrates the potential reach and importance of license terms.4 Second, the actions leading up to the indictment involved monitoring of MIT's Internet traffic to identify Swartz and understand his actions, illustrating that library This is a study of the treatment of library patron privacy in licenses for electronic journals in academic libraries. We begin by distinguishing four facets of privacy and intellectual freedom based on the LIS and philosophical literature. Next, we perform a content analysis of 42 license agreements for electronic journals, focusing on terms for enforcing authorized use and collection and sharing of user data. We compare our findings to model licenses, to recommendations proposed in a recent treatise on licenses, and to our account of the four facets of intellectual freedom. We find important conflicts with each. doi:10.5860/crl.76.4.427 crl14-599 428 College & Research Libraries May 2015 patron access to licensed electronic resources carries different privacy implications than (for example) print. Although the Swartz case is an extreme example of unauthorized access to licensed materials, the case illustrates the centrality and scope of licenses for electronic journals in academic libraries. And in light of the case, it is worth asking just how licenses affect library patron privacy, whether any of those effects are problematic, and, if so, why? This paper addresses each of these questions. We begin by examining whether, and why, we should care about library patron privacy in the first place. The Library and Information Studies (LIS) literature links privacy to the concept of intellectual freedom. But precisely what intellectual freedom is, and how it relates to privacy, require some clarifying. Drawing on the LIS literature on privacy and intellectual freedom and the philosophical literature on freedom, we distinguish four facets of intellectual freedom. We then turn to the question of how licenses treat patron privacy by performing a content analysis of 42 license contracts between publishers and academic libraries. We analyze our findings by, first, comparing the language of the licenses to model licenses proffered within the library profession. We find that the licenses in our data set differ in important ways from the model licenses. We then compare the terms of the licenses to the recommendations set forth in Tom Lipinski's recent treatise on library licenses for electronic resources.5 Here, too, we find important differences between the licenses in the data set and the recommendations. Next, we examine whether license provisions implicate the four facets of intellectual freedom we describe. We find that the licenses conflict with only certain aspects of intellectual freedom. We conclude with some recommendations for changes to licenses. The paper expands the existing scholarship on licensing in several ways. First, it explicitly links license terms to two central library values-privacy and intellectual freedom. Second, it links those core library values to the philosophical literature on privacy and freedom. Third, it shows a disconnect between the model licenses proffered by professionals and licenses that actually govern electronic journal access. Privacy and Four Facets of Intellectual Freedom ALA, Privacy, and Intellectual Freedom Privacy is a core library value, and it has been for some time. The first iteration of the American Library Association's (ALA) Code of Ethics, adopted in 1939, posited that librarians have an "obligation to treat as confidential any private information obtained through contact with library patrons."6 The most recent version of the code is similar, stating that librarians aspire to "protect each library user's right to privacy and confidentiality with respect to information sought or received and resources consulted, borrowed, acquired or transmitted."7 Although the Library Bill of Rights does not explicitly list rights to privacy and confidentiality, the ALA's interpretations of the Bill are unequivocal that it serves as a basis for privacy protections. In "Privacy: An Interpretation of the Library Bill of Rights," the ALA maintains that privacy and confidentiality are "integral" to the mission of libraries, and that rights to privacy and confidentiality are "implicit" in the guarantee of free access to all users in the Library Bill of Rights. It further explains that privacy rights are rights "to open inquiry without having the subject of one's interest examined or scrutinized by others," and that confidentiality demands that libraries keep "personally identifiable information about users ... private on their behalf."8 A separate interpretation specifically covering academic libraries places even greater emphasis on privacy: "The privacy of library users is and must be inviolable."9 These statements of general principle are further specified to provide guidance in concrete cases. For example, the ALA explains that libraries have the responsibility Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 429 to protect not only patrons' personal information, but also "database search records, circulation records, and other materials that identify a person's use of library materials, activities, or facilities."10 Moreover, the ALA interprets personally identifiable information expansively to include "any data that can link choices of taste, interest, or research with a specific individual."11 Protecting privacy reflects a "long-standing commitment to an ethic of facilitating, not monitoring, access to information."12 The commitment to privacy demands more than simply restricting others' access to patron information. It also requires that users be informed of "what policies and procedures govern the amount and retention of personally identifiable information, why that information is necessary for the library, and what the user can do to maintain his or her privacy."13 The ALA's commitment to protecting user privacy parallels language in other professional association codes of ethics. For example, the Canadian Library Association (CLA) states that member libraries have the responsibility to "protect the privacy and dignity of library users and staff."14 The International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions (IFLA) Code of Ethics affirms that librarians should respect and protect users' privacy, by requiring librarians to "take appropriate measures to ensure that user data is not shared beyond the original transaction."15 In her analysis of the library association codes of ethics from 28 countries, Pnina Shachaf found that privacy is one of the "most global and common principles in the LIS profession." Specifically, she determined that 85 percent of the codes of ethics in her study contain privacy protection.16 The ALA and other professional organizations justify privacy protections by appealing to intellectual freedom.17 In the ALA's words, intellectual freedom requires that one have the ability to "seek and receive information from all points of view without restriction" and "true freedom of inquiry" does not exist where "users recognize or fear that their privacy or confidentiality is compromised."18 The IFLA Statement on Libraries and Intellectual Freedom also claims that one principle of freedom of expression is to "not disclose the identity of users or the materials they use to a third party."19 A number of other library associations understand privacy protection to be a key component of intellectual freedom, including those from Croatia, Japan, New Zealand, Turkey, and United Kingdom.20 Our discussion here focuses on privacy as it relates to intellectual freedom, following the primary justification for privacy protections set out in professional codes of conduct in the United States (where the licenses in our data set come from) and in much of the LIS literature. There are, however, a number of other possible moral foundations for privacy protections explored in the literature. For example, privacy may be instrumentally valuable as a part of personal relationships, mental health, professional transactions, and avoiding fraud; privacy may facilitate democratic processes; privacy may be a key component of human dignity; and privacy may be crucial in ensuring that important decisions about one's life and projects be made for one's own reasons and values.21 Many of these justifications for privacy protections overlap in important ways with intellectual freedom. Moreover, a number of commentators have argued that at least some aspects of privacy are of negative value. Richard Posner, for one, argues that privacy protections for individuals serve primarily to hide discrediting information that others could put to economically beneficial use.22 Others have pointed out that privacy protections have historically been deployed to the detriment of women and other minority groups by shielding oppressive actions in "private" spheres (such as the home or private commercial enterprises), calling into question either the value of privacy per se or traditional interpretations of the nature and proper scope of privacy.23 Further, regardless of the underlying reasons for privacy's value (if any), there is always a question of the degree 430 College & Research Libraries May 2015 to which other goods warrant diminishing privacy. In recent years, for example, there has been significant debate about privacy and its relation to security,24 and there is a perennial question in U.S. law about the proper scope of privacy protections in the enforcement of criminal law. Addressing the full scope of the privacy literature is well beyond what we can do here. Nonetheless, because the connection between privacy and intellectual freedom is drawn so explicitly in the LIS literature, and because many accounts closely link privacy to freedom (either intellectual freedom or freedom more broadly), that is the focus of this project. Four Facets What, though, is intellectual freedom, and how does privacy affect it? While there appears to be some consensus that intellectual freedom includes freedom with respect to thought, belief, access to information, and exposure to ideas, there is not a settled view regarding what freedom means in this context.25 Positing that freedom just means lack of restriction does not get us very far, as that would leave open the question of what counts as a restriction in the relevant sense. Perhaps the lack of a settled view shouldn't surprise us, as freedom is a deeply contested concept with a large philosophical literature. However, it is crucial that we make sense of it in order to address novel issues of intellectual freedom such as those under consideration here. Comparing the statements linking privacy to intellectual freedom in the professional literature to accounts of freedom in the philosophical literature, we discern four facets of intellectual freedom that are implicated by privacy and privacy loss, each grounded in the LIS literature and each corresponding to a philosophical conception of freedom itself.26 These will serve as a basis for our discussion of license content. Negative Freedom The starting point for understanding the four facets of intellectual freedom is to look at the most easily understood sense of freedom in the philosophical literature-negative freedom. Negative freedom is the freedom from external constraints. External constraints are restrictions on, costs to, or harms resulting from activities that are imposed by others and that limit a person's ability to act in certain ways-in this case engaging in intellectual pursuits.27 For example, a law forbidding one from selling food without complying with health code regulations is a limitation on one's negative freedom insofar as it imposes a constraint on a person's ability to sell food that is imposed by others and independent of facts about the person who might sell food without compliance. Such a restriction is justified by health and safety outcomes; nonetheless, it is a restriction of freedom that demands some kind of justification. In the context of libraries and intellectual freedom, we can see that censorship and Internet filtering diminish negative intellectual freedom insofar as they are restrictions imposed by others on persons' abilities to access information. Loss of privacy does not by itself limit this facet of intellectual freedom. Rather, privacy may bear upon negative intellectual freedom instrumentally, as when others use information gleaned about a person's intellectual pursuits to that person's detriment. For example, if Francis's employer learned of his research into a serious medical condition, the employer might infer that Francis is prone to that condition and deny him some opportunity or position of responsibility. Positive Freedom Not all of the concerns raised regarding privacy and intellectual freedom can be explained by the negative conception. For example, the ALA maintains that "true freedom of inquiry" does not exist where "users recognize or fear that their privacy Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 431 or confidentiality is compromised."28 Likewise, a number of scholars have pointed to the potential for privacy loss to "chill" inquiry, regardless of whether persons who are monitored suffer any externally imposed, negative consequences from their loss of privacy.29 But chilling effects based on fear of privacy loss are not constraints imposed by others. Rather, they are based on a person's psychology, which is internal to the person. To account for such effects, we can appeal to a different philosophical conception of freedom: positive freedom. Positive freedom refers to persons' abilities to assert control over their lives regardless of whether there are externally imposed constraints. Often this is understood in terms of persons' abilities to act according to their "higher" or more stable desires or the values of their more rational selves.30 So, an addict may be unable to control his actions when he needs a cigarette, despite his actual desire to not smoke and to do something other than go looking for a cigarette, and would to that degree lack positive freedom. Apprehension of privacy loss and chilling effects based on beliefs regarding privacy loss are limitations on internal, positive intellectual freedom insofar as they do not rely on others actually imposing limitations on a person's actions. Suppose, for example, that Jo believes that her library browsing and borrowing records are monitored. She worries that her coworkers, employer, or community would think ill of her if they knew that she reads controversial materials or (more prosaically) that she reads maudlin fiction. As a result, she does not browse or borrow such materials, even though she would like to. In that case, her activity is chilled not by constraints imposed by others, but by her own psychology. Hence, it is a limitation on positive intellectual freedom. Note that if her fears are the result of harms to her interests based on others actually thinking ill of her, the constraint would be external and hence a limitation on negative freedom. Freedom and Autonomy Other features of intellectual freedom cannot be explained by appeal to external, negative freedom or internal, positive freedom. Consider the ALA's insistence that library patrons should be "informed what policies and procedures govern the amount and retention of personally identifiable information, why that information is necessary for the library, and what the user can do to maintain his or her privacy."31 Merely informing patrons of how their information is collected does not protect their privacy per se. At most, it places the onus on patrons to take steps to protect their privacy, if they are willing to incur the opportunity costs of doing so. Further, it does not protect patrons from external constraints should they fail to maintain their information privacy. Nor does it protect internal positive freedom. Informing patrons of how their information may be collected or used could actually help cause chilling effects by making them "recognize or fear that their privacy or confidentiality is compromised."32 Moreover, appeals to the first two facets of intellectual freedom cannot explain two seminal conflicts regarding library patron privacy. One is the U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation's Library Awareness Program. In the late 1980s, the public learned that the FBI had a program in which agents would inquire at libraries about "suspicious" persons' uses of materials and services and request circulation records. In response to the program, the ALA's Intellectual Freedom Committee adopted formal policies regarding patron confidentiality and sought (though never received) in-depth information about the extent of the program.33 The other is the USA Patriot Act's expansion of "business records requests" pursuant to the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act. Section 215 of the Patriot Act allows federal agents to not only make records requests at libraries, but prohibits recipients from disclosing that such requests have happened.34 In both of these cases, a key issue for the library profession is the secrecy of the surveillance. But secrecy does not necessarily undermine negative freedom; it does 432 College & Research Libraries May 2015 not make it any more likely that persons will suffer external constraints based on their library records. Moreover, the fact that surveillance is secret may actually mitigate any chilling effects of surveillance by making people less likely to believe that they are being surveilled.35 Here it is worth distinguishing secrecy of particular acts of surveillance, secrecy of surveillance programs, and secrecy of legal authorities for surveillance programs. Knowledge of any of these could affect people's behaviors, and the mere fact that, say, particular acts of surveillance are secret may not mitigate the effects of a known surveillance program. The key point here, though, is that there does seem to be an affront to freedom where persons surveilled do not believe (and hence do not know) that they are being surveilled. To explain how informing patrons about retention and use of personally identifiable information and government powers to conduct surreptitious surveillance bear upon intellectual freedom, we need to articulate a third facet of intellectual freedom. John Christman has advanced the view that freedom is not simply a matter of absence of constraints, but a quality of agency.36 On this view, a person is free only if she acts autonomously. Precisely what autonomous action demands is itself deeply contested, but it at least demands that persons be able to act according to their values as they see fit. Internal and external constraints will matter to whether persons act autonomously-coercion, threats of harm, and inability to act on one's more rational desires are all ways by which persons are limited in their ability to exercise autonomy. However, autonomy demands more than simply being free of coercion and threats and having the wherewithal to act on one's higher-level desires. For one, it requires information important in determining how to steer one's choices to comport with one's values, and it demands information important in making sense of how one is being treated.37 Consider, for example, a person who wishes to eat only foods that are not derived from genetically engineered (GE) organisms. This person is not forced into eating such foods, would be able to resist foods with ingredients derived from GE organisms, and has sufficient resources to purchase and prepare foods that are free of such ingredients. Suppose, though, that foods with GE ingredients are not labeled as such and that labels claiming foods do not contain GE ingredients are prohibited. There is an important sense in which one is not free to avoid GE foods because one does not have sufficient information to act on her desires as she sees fit. This is because she cannot exercise her autonomy in this regard.38 Interpreting intellectual freedom as requiring that persons be able to act autonomously can explain the importance of revealing to patrons the policies governing collection and use of their information. Likewise, it can account for why secrecy surrounding Patriot Act business records requests and the FBI library surveillance program impinge on intellectual freedom, even if patrons never learn that their records have been accessed. That is because information about the possibility of one's information being gathered is important to many people, and having relevant information is an important facet of autonomy. Republican Freedom The fourth facet of freedom relevant to our analysis is freedom from arbitrary exercise of power, sometimes referred to as republican freedom. The key idea is that, while one may be free in the sense of not having external constraints, being able to act in accord with one's higher-order desires, and exercising autonomy, one might still lack an important facet of freedom where one could be subjected to arbitrary constraints or harms to one's interests on the basis of another's whims.39 Consider the example of a person living in an area that is largely controlled by organized crime. Legitimate authority is ineffective, businesses open and close at the Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 433 discretion of the criminal organization, people are dependent on the organization for money, and so forth. Now suppose that one is able to navigate life pretty well because one is in the good favor of the mob, can predict the behavior of the organization, and so forth, and that as a result one can do largely what she wishes. Hence, one would appear to be free on each of the conceptions described so far. Nonetheless, one could at any moment be subjected to harms based on the arbitrary whims of the criminal organization. A key insight of the republican conception is that such potential subjection to arbitrary domination is antithetical to freedom. This fourth facet of freedom finds support from the ALA, which quotes Bruce Schneier's view that monitoring creates the potential that "patterns we leave behind will be brought back to implicate us, by whatever authority has now become focused upon our once-private and innocent acts."40 In other words, privacy loss need not chill inquiry to be problematic; rather, it is problematic where our intellectual inquiry-our "innocent acts"-can be used to our detriment, even if they are not so used. Frank Lovett's prominent account posits that republican freedom is undermined where one party wields an imbalance of power over another, the party with less power would incur costs from exiting the relationship with the other party, and there is an absence of known rules or conventions governing use of power in that relationship, such that one party may wield that power arbitrarily.41 Precisely what constitutes arbitrary power sufficient to undermine this facet of freedom is the subject of debate. However, one threat to republican freedom is broad and vague law that others can deploy to a person's detriment. As Braithwaite and Pettit state in their seminal book on republican freedom and the criminal law, "[i]f the criminal justice authorities are not bound by precise criminal laws, then their power is relatively unchecked and there is a threat to the subjective component of dominion."42 This relatively unchecked power is closely related to Lovett's absence of rules condition. That is, precise and tailored criminal laws constitute rules governing use of prosecutor discretion. As we will explain later, the possibility of liability under the CFAA for exceeding authorized access of electronic resources appears to suffice for subjecting persons to arbitrary power. Authentication and Authorized Use Although the focus of this paper is on privacy and intellectual freedom, it is set against a backdrop in which licensors seek to limit access to copyrighted works to a group of authorized users and for a range of authorized uses and in which various technologies are deployed to control use. It is therefore worth pausing to clarify several aspects of authorized use and authentication. To begin, the line between authorized and unauthorized uses, especially for users who are unfamiliar with licenses, is not always clear. Despite provisions defining authorized user and permitted/prohibited uses explicitly, there will inevitably be uses that are either unclear or are routine but unauthorized. For example, a person might be an authorized user in one capacity but not another, as when a student or faculty member works for a private company (including her own venture) "after hours" and her access advances that work. In other cases, uses that are widely accepted in scholarly communication might be prohibited by certain license provisions, which could easily lead to unauthorized uses. For example, fair use principles plausibly allow authorized users to share copyrighted work with research partners at other institutions (who are not authorized users); however, it is not uncommon for publishers to restrict sharing licensed materials with unauthorized users,43 since contract provisions "often take away fair-use or other rights which would otherwise exist under the copyright law."44 As Eschenfelder et al state, 434 College & Research Libraries May 2015 licenses in some cases "forbid activities that many end users would consider morally unproblematic," such as occasional sharing with others (scholars, friends, family) not authorized under a particular license.45 Hence, where an authorized user is unaware of such a provision, she can easily breach the licenses inadvertently, and thus the user might have to face punishments from publishers or even charges of federal crimes based on the CFAA. While one major prerequisite of such charges is publishers' ability to identify a certain user who conducts unauthorized uses, the authentication technologies libraries use may open an effective channel for publishers to obtain users' personal information. Consider the two authentication technologies most commonly used by libraries today: IP filtering and proxy servers. Specifically, consider the types of user information collected and maintained by libraries, by publishers, and by other relevant parties and how the technologies may affect user privacy. IP filtering is often used for on-campus users, where publishers compare the IP address of incoming requests with the IP addresses authorized under licenses and allow access only from those within an approved range.46 This allows publishers to capture a certain campus IP address and activities (for instance, databases accessed and articles downloaded) associated with that IP address. Campus IP addresses can be either static or dynamic. A computer with a static, or fixed, IP address (for example, in a faculty office or in a lab) is easy for a campus IT department to identify. A computer with a dynamic IP address, such as a student's laptop connected to a campus's wireless network, is randomly assigned to some available IP address each time it connects to the network. Although its IP addresses might vary from time to time, a campus IT department can generally track down a particular computer with some investigation. For instance, it can match activity from a particular session with either the username/ password used to log into the wireless network, or it can associate session information with a particular computer's MAC address. Proxy servers envelop users' requests within approved IP addresses. Thus, where proxy servers are used, the IP address communicated to a publisher is a university IP address, and not the IP address from which a user request originates (such as from home). Proxy servers are often deployed for off-campus users, but some libraries (including the authors' home institution) also use proxy servers for their on-campus users. For off-campus uses, the proxy server requires users to provide a valid campus ID and password for the purpose of authentication.47 Thus, libraries' proxy server log files collect information about users' IDs/passwords, activities, and the mapped proxy IP address sent to publishers. For on-campus uses, libraries' proxy servers keep users' static/dynamic IP addresses and their activities in the log files, and a mapping between the users' IP addresses and the IP addresses received by publishers' server. In both cases, publishers only see that the IP address comes from the acceptable range without knowing the "real" IP address of a certain activity and thus cannot identify individual users based on the proxy IP address. So, even where IP filters and proxies are in use, information may be collected by libraries, publishers, and campus IT departments. Publishers may obtain such information from universities to the extent that they have the ability to require libraries and campus IT departments to provide user information. That can happen either because licenses provide that ability or via court order. To reduce such privacy risks caused by authentication technologies, many libraries purge their log files on a regular basis.48 Washing server log files on the campus IT side would also be necessary to prevent publishers from identifying a certain user through IP addresses. With this framework as a background, let's turn to the licenses. Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 435 License Analysis Methodology Data Set and Sampling To evaluate licensing contracts with respect to privacy provisions and intellectual freedom, we conducted a content analysis of a set of licenses collected by Bergstrom, Courant, and McAfee for a study of journal pricing.49 Using state open records laws, Bergstrom et al. sent records requests to a large number of state university libraries throughout the United States. They received licenses from 38 universities and 8 consortia from 28 states, involving 11 different publishers. Bergstrom shared 216 licenses on CD-ROM with Eschenfelder for a study of downloading, scholarly sharing, interlibrary loan, and e-reserves.50 We chose to analyze a sample of the full Bergstrom set because it is common in social science research to employ a random sample to represent a population that one does not have the resources to query. Moreover, Eschenfelder et al. found substantial repetition within the 216 licenses, which suggests that a subsample will capture most variances. Thus, we analyzed a subset of the 216 licenses. To better reflect current practices, we sampled licenses from 2007 to 2009.51 Following Eschenfelder et al., we used final licenses rather than standard licenses in this study. Standard publisher licenses were drafted by publishers and presented to potential licensees as a basis for final licenses, and final licenses were those licenses negotiated between licensees and licensors.52 We selected 42 licenses from the data set using stratified sampling based on publisher to ensure capture of the variations in licenses across different publishers. We applied simple random sampling to draw a sample of 4 licenses from each of 10 publishers. We had only two licenses from the eleventh publisher (Wiley-Blackwell) and thus included both licenses in our data set. The demographic information about the sample is illustrated in table 1. TABLE 1 Licenses by Publishers and Year Commercial Publisher N=30 Total Licenses 2007 2008 2009 Wiley (WLY) 4 - 2 2 Blackwell (BLW) 4 3 - 1 Wiley-Blackwell (WBL) 2 - 1 1 Elsevier (ELV) 4 - 2 2 Emerald (EMR) 4 1 2 1 Sage (SGE) 4 3 - 1 Springer (SPR) 4 - 3 1 Taylor & Francis (T&F) 4 2 1 1 Non-commercial Publisher N=12 American Chemical Society (ACS) 4 - 3 1 Oxford University Press (OUP) 4 2 1 1 Cambridge University Press (CUP) 4 3 - 1 Total 42 14 15 13 436 College & Research Libraries May 2015 Codebook Development To conduct a reliable content analysis of the sample licenses, we developed a codebook based on our literature review and a review of privacy clauses found in 3 standard ejournal licenses available on the Internet. We revised the codebook based on 10 rounds of testing licenses selected from Bergstrom's data set that were not part of the official study sample. During each test, we independently coded licenses and calculated the inter-coder reliability (ICR) of our results. In the last round of coding, we obtained 98 percent ICR overall, higher than the targeted 90 percent. The minimum ICR at the question level was 75 percent. The final codebook included 38 variables in five categories: monitoring authorized use/users, data collected by publishers, data shared with third parties, data sent to licensees, and personalized services. For most of the variables (27), we marked "1" if the statement was true, and marked "0" if it was not true. For the rest of the variables, we filled in free text to capture more complex information about the licenses. Data Collection and Analysis Each coder coded 25 licenses in total, among which 8 licenses were in common to calculate the ICR for the final coding. All the licenses were printed out and coded on paper. License coding ended in February 2013, and ICR for the 8 common licenses was calculated as 96 percent. The minimum ICR at the question level was 87.5 percent. All data collected in the coding were then imported to Excel for further analysis. In addition, we compared the data to two model licenses developed by library professionals: the LIBLICENSE model license and the license agreement checklist from the California Digital Library (CDL).53 We discuss differences between the data set and the model licenses in section 4.1. Findings Lipinski and Harris distinguish two primary areas in which privacy may be of concern in licensing agreements: (1) enforcement of authorized use and (2) collection of personal information by licensors and sharing that information with third parties.54 In addition, Magi addresses licensors offering personalized services that may in turn collect information about individual users.55 Our findings reflect this split, with privacyaffecting provisions clustering around provisions for enforcing authorized use and for licensors' collecting and sharing user data. We found only 2 licenses addressing personalized services. Monitoring Authorized Use/Users Most licenses authenticate users by IP address; therefore, most licenses specify that licensors will obtain IP address information from licensees. This authentication method in some cases provides a mechanism for enforcing license terms, as 16.7 percent of licenses state that licensors may suspend access of the IP address(es) from which unauthorized use occurs. Another 9.5 percent of licenses stipulate that the licensor may suspend the access of any authorized user violating the terms of use, without specifying the mechanism. In addition, several contracts have provisions either allowing (2.4%, 1 license) or even requiring (9.5%) that libraries suspend authorized user access upon request from the licensor. Ten licenses (23.8%), all from commercial publishers, that allow the licensor to suspend access also require (in at least some cases) that the licensor provide the licensee notice and time before suspending access, potentially allowing the library to remedy unauthorized use. A substantial number of licenses (38.1%) require that the licensee monitor for unauthorized use of licensed materials.56 Further, 42.9 percent of licenses require that Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 437 libraries take disciplinary action when they become aware of unauthorized use. Just what constitutes "disciplinary action" is not spelled out in the licenses. Finally, the large majority of licenses (81%) oblige libraries to notify publishers when they become aware of unauthorized use. See table 2 for summary. Other Enforcement Provisions Along with the results of our content analysis, close reading of the contracts in the data set reveals a number of privacy-affecting terms that are relevant here. Several licenses have provisions regarding monitoring of use that warrant additional attention. Two licenses from Wiley/Blackwell require that "licensee shall use all reasonable endeavors to monitor compliance" and report any unauthorized use or breach. That would appear to increase the licensee's responsibility beyond the requirement of merely doing some sort of monitoring. Other licenses, including two licenses from Springer and one from ACS, reserve the licensor's right to monitor access "to detect misuse of [publisher's] content." The ACS license states explicitly that it will engage in routine monitoring of each IP address authorized to access its materials: "[Publisher] will monitor the volume of searching and answer downloading activity associated with each Authorized IP Address on a routine bases, for the purpose of: (1) benchmarking what 'average' use is among Authorized IP Addresses, and (2) noting any significant variance in patterns of usage for particular Authorized IP Address(es)." This implies a degree of information gathering and specificity by the publishers greater than a provision simply stating that some monitoring will occur. Interestingly, an addendum to one license from Oxford University Press makes explicit that the library will not monitor use, stating that "The Licensee does not have the ability to monitor or to control actual uses by authorized users of the information from the Licensed Materials or to notify authorized users of all the restrictions on the use of information in this Agreement." We found similar language in an addendum to an Emerald license from the same institution. TABLE 2 Terms Enforcing Authorized Use Total N=42 Total % Licensor can suspend authorized user access based on violation of license*† 4 9.5% Licensor can suspend access based on IP address*† 7 16.7% Licensee may suspend unauthorized users† 1 2.4% Licensee shall suspend unauthorized user based on request from licensor* 4 9.5% Some suspensions require licensor to provide notice and time† 10 23.8% Licensee shall notify publisher of unauthorized use 34 81.0% Licensee shall monitor for unauthorized use 16 38.1% Licensee shall take disciplinary action when aware of unauthorized use 18 42.9% *Provision is included in the CDL model license. †Provision is included in the LIBLICENSE model license. 438 College & Research Libraries May 2015 Thirteen licenses require that licensees maintain and share records of authorized users and their access details. The licenses do not specify precisely what details about user access are required; one possibility is that it includes user logs that can be correlated with the IP addresses requesting resources. Perhaps even more important for our purposes here, five licenses, including all of the four Emerald licenses and one from Wiley in 2009, require libraries to share information about users and their activities with licensors. As the Emerald licenses stipulate: "full and up-to-date records of all Authorized Users and their access details...shall be provided to [the publisher] upon request."57 In addition to provisions regarding information gathering, monitoring, and sharing to enforce license terms, six licenses (one Blackwell 2007 license, one ACS 2009 license, and all four Wiley licenses) require that libraries "cooperate" or "cooperate fully" with publishers' investigations of copyright infringement and unauthorized use. Data Collection and Sharing A second area that can implicate privacy interests is licensors' data collection, analysis, and sharing information with third parties. As Lipinski notes, information is generated from database searches and downloads of licensed content and that information may be connected to particular patrons or particular computers.58 While similar information collected by libraries (for example, searches of an OPAC) would likely be protected from disclosure under many state library privacy statutes, such information is generally not protected by statute when collected by licensors (who are generally not covered in state library statutes).59 Hence, licensors may have the ability to collect, analyze, and even share information gleaned from searching and using licensed content.60 As shown in table 3, we found that 66.7 percent of licenses state that publishers collect non-IP data, including (for example) usage data. We found that 26.7 percent of commercial licenses expressly allow publishers to share data with third parties. All but one of the licenses from noncommercial publishers are silent regarding data sharing with third parties-neither specifically allowing nor prohibiting data sharing. Perhaps most important is that a number of licenses explicitly limit the form or type of data that publishers may share with third parties. Table 4 shows that eight licenses (19.0%) specify that data shared with third parties is usage data. Five of these licenses expressly state that usage data shared with third parties should be in anonymous and aggregated form. Moreover, 31.0 percent of licenses specify that publishers may not share with third parties either raw usage data or data that can identify individual users. A total of 9.5 percent of the licenses allowing publishers to share data with third parties specify the types of third parties with whom publishers can share data. For example, an Elsevier license states that it may provide data to "vendors or other thirdparties retained by the subscriber," and a Wiley license states that it may provide data to third parties "where necessary in connection with services provided by appropriate TABLE 3 Terms Specifying Data Collecting Total N=42 Total % Non-IP data collected by publisher*† 28 66.7% Specifying reasons for data collection 9 21.4% Including deletion of collected data 1 2.4% *Provision is included in the CDL model license. †Provision is included in the LIBLICENSE model license. Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 439 intermediaries." Several licenses (21.4%) specify the reasons that non-IP address information is collected. These reasons include 1) assisting both licensor and participating library to understand the impact of this license; 2) improving the services provided by the publisher; and 3) internal use for the publisher and the licensee. It is unclear what the lifecycle of such data is, as just one license mentions the possibility of deleting data collected, stating that the deletion will occur "when [such data are] no longer needed." Data Sent to Licensee Data about usage of electronic journals are extremely useful for libraries to calculate cost-effectiveness of specific products and to allocate resources appropriately. Many licenses (including both model licenses) oblige licensors to provide licensees with usage data. One important question is whether the data contain personally identifiable information. Contracts can ensure that usage data do not contain personally identifiable information by expressly stating that usage data will be provided in aggregated form; likewise, contracts can state that usage data will comply with the Counting Online Usage of Networked Electronic Resources (COUNTER) Codes of Practice, which includes some privacy protection.61 As illustrated in table 5, we found that 38.1 percent of licenses require that usage data be in an aggregated form (either explicitly or by requiring COUNTER compliance). We also found that 64.3 percent of licenses provide usage data to licensees, and 21.4 percent of the licenses include COUNTER-compliance provisions. Most of the publishers in this study are registered with COUNTER as providing COUNTER TABLE 4 Terms Specifying Data Sharing with Third Parties Total N=42 Total % Contains terms about publisher sharing data with third party* † 14 33.3% Specifies that publisher may provide data to third party*† 9 21.4% Specifies the type of data that publisher may provide to third party*† 8 19.0% Specifies the type of third party to which publisher will provide data*† 4 9.5% Specifies that some data will NOT be provided to third party*† 13 31.0% Specifies that publisher will disclose data to third party if required by law 1 2.4% Requires third party to comply with the confidentiality provisions of license 1 2.4% *Provision is included in the CDL model license. †Provision is included in the LIBLICENSE model license. TABLE 5 Terms Specifying Data Sent to Licensee Total N=42 Total % Providing usage data to licensee*† 27 64.3% COUNTER-compliance† 9 21.4% Aggregated usage data*† 16 38.1% *Provision is included in the CDL model license. †Provision is included in the LIBLICENSE model license. 440 College & Research Libraries May 2015 compliant usage reports. Thus, their practices may comport with COUNTER practices regardless of whether such practices are made explicit in licenses. Also note that, even if licenses require the licensor to provide licensees with aggregated usage data, we cannot determine from the licenses whether or not licensors actually are able to collect usage data about individual users. Discussion: Is There Reason for Concern? The next question motivating the paper is whether any of the privacy-affecting provisions in licensing contracts are problematic. To address this, we compare our findings: first, to two model licenses established by library professionals; second, to recommendations outlined by Lipinski (2013); and last, to the facets of intellectual freedom described above. Model Licenses As noted, we recorded which provisions from our analysis of the data set were in the LIBLICENSE and CDL model licenses. Because the LIBLICENSE and CDL model licenses were developed by library professionals, they reflect considered professional judgments that presumably take into account both professional library values and the need to secure access to electronic journals through licenses. Hence, comparing them to the data set should reflect the extent to which professional values are reflected in actual license contracts. The major difference between the model licenses and the actual licenses concerns libraries' obligations when unauthorized use occurs. The actual licenses impose greater obligations on libraries. In particular, neither of the model licenses requires libraries to monitor for or notify publishers about unauthorized use. Nonetheless, we found 38.1 percent of licenses have monitoring provisions, and 81 percent have notification provisions. Moreover, nearly half of the licenses in the data set (42.9%) oblige libraries to take disciplinary action when they are aware of unauthorized use, though neither model license contains such an obligation. These discrepancies between actual licenses and model licenses reflect different understandings regarding libraries' role in addressing unauthorized uses. Publishers, on one hand, have an interest in having libraries act in the publishers' interest in preventing unauthorized use as much as possible. By contrast, at least some librarians are hesitant about incurring obligations to prevent unauthorized uses. Duranceau et al. argue that libraries should focus on user education rather than "policing of license breaches" and suggest libraries exclude license terms requiring "taking a specific disciplinary action" to avoid creating obligations to police for unauthorized use.62 These concerns are reflected in the model licenses developed by library communities, which do not contain any provisions requiring monitoring, notification, or disciplinary actions. Another important difference between model licenses and actual licenses is the requirements on data sharing. Both model licenses have clearly specified provisions to limit publishers' ability to share usage data with third parties. Both specify that publishers may only share aggregated usage data with third parties and that raw usage data that can be used to identify individual users cannot be shared with third parties. Only a small percentage of the licenses in our data set specify the data type that can be shared with third parties, and most of the licenses are silent with respect to data sharing (hence not prohibiting it). Conflicts with Lipinski (2013) Lipinski's discussion of privacy implications of common licensing provisions provides a further point of comparison for the data set. He maintains that requirements Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 441 for the "reporting of infringers raises issues of privacy" and suggests that a "kinder, gentler" approach is a more general affirmation that licensee assistance in halting abuses would "be appreciated."63 He also suggests that, instead of an obligation to notify the licensor of all infractions, libraries should be able to address the infraction without having to contact the licensor, and hence have the option for a "teachable moment."64 Most licenses (81%) in our data set, however, treat licensee's notification of unauthorized uses as an obligation, without an option to address infractions themselves. Lipinski further recommends, in cases where licensors have the right to terminate authorized user access, that they provide the licensee with notice and opportunity to remedy violations before terminating use. Only a few licenses (23.8%) in our set have such provisions. Lipinski points out that clauses requiring that libraries assist in the investigation and enforcement of licensing provisions may run afoul of state library privacy protection laws, for providing information would generally involve divulging patron information. He suggests inserting a clause in contracts that indicates that libraries will not divulge protected information in enforcing contract terms. As noted earlier, we found several licenses requiring libraries "cooperate" or "cooperate fully" with publishers' investigations of copyright infringement and unauthorized use. We did not capture clauses in any contracts indicating that libraries would not divulge protected information, and we are not aware of any such provisions from our close reading of the licenses. In addition, Lipinski recommends that licenses require licensees to give users reasonable notice of terms and enforce license terms at levels consistent with other institutional policies.65 Likewise, we did not capture such terms in our coding and are not aware of any such provisions from our close reading. Four Facets of Intellectual Freedom So there are ways in which the licenses in our data set are in at least some tension with statements of professional library values. But so what? To analyze whether the potential privacy issues in licensing contracts are indeed a problem, we have to analyze them in light of the underlying justifications for privacy protections in the library context- intellectual freedom. The picture here is more complicated. As we have established, we can distinguish four facets of intellectual freedom. Licensing provisions implicate only some of these, to varying degrees. Negative Freedom Consider first negative freedom, or freedom from external constraints. Recall that privacy may bear upon negative intellectual freedom insofar as others may use information gleaned about a person's intellectual pursuits to that person's detriment. It does not appear that any of the contract terms outlined impinge upon this facet of intellectual freedom. Nothing in the monitoring provisions suggests that publishers or third parties will harm individual users of electronic resources based on the content of their research, and it is difficult to see why there would be any incentive to do so. One might argue that monitoring and reporting will indeed impose costs on some persons insofar as those who violate authorized use terms may lose access privileges. That, however, would not be a restriction on the content of one's intellectual inquiries, but on the form they take. Put another way, whatever external constraints are applied to persons based on their research activities would be content neutral in the same way that late fees might place external constraints on persons' research activities, but not in a way that is plausibly an impingement of intellectual freedom. Intellectual freedom does not include the ability to conduct inquiry in any manner that one wishes. Constraints on time, place, and manner (at least where those are not onerous and are justifiable 442 College & Research Libraries May 2015 as means of ensuring overall broader and easier access) are compatible with negative freedom. Indeed, the ALA considers them compatible with intellectual freedom.66 There is some concern, though, insofar as provisions for monitoring could be used as sources for investigation. For example, requirements that libraries keep usage logs and provide information to publishers seeking to enforce authorized use terms will make such retained information available for, for instance, subpoenas. This type of concern is nothing new, though, as any library record is subject to such information requests. Positive Freedom Consider next positive freedom, or the "true freedom of inquiry" that is imperiled, where "users recognize or fear that their privacy or confidentiality is compromised."67 Some types of license provisions potentially conflict with this facet of intellectual freedom. One concerns policing for unauthorized use. Libraries are in many cases required to monitor for, report to publishers, and discipline unauthorized use, and publishers may maintain records of IP addresses of persons accessing licensed materials, which are in some cases able to be linked to particular computers. A few licenses require that libraries maintain and share records of authorized users and their access details, and at least one stipulates that "full and up-to-date records of all Authorized Users and their access details...shall be provided to [the publisher] upon request." Such use records can potentially be correlated with unauthorized activity. Recall the license explicitly stating that it will engage in routine monitoring of each IP address authorized to access its materials: "[Publisher] will monitor the volume of searching and downloading activity associated with each Authorized IP Address on a routine bases, for the purpose of: (1) benchmarking what 'average' use is among Authorized IP Addresses, and (2) noting any significant variance in patterns of usage for particular Authorized IP Address(es)." These license terms could constrain internal, positive freedom insofar as they could cause patrons to believe that they lack privacy, which may in turn lead them to limit their inquiries. That is, the degree of required and potential monitoring, if known, could serve to chill use. But the potential limits on internal positive freedoms are merely speculative. The extent to which privacy loss affects persons' behavior is difficult to measure, and it is plausible that people become so accustomed to privacy loss that remote monitoring does not actually affect their behavior. Moreover, it is likely that most users of electronic journals in academic libraries do not know whether, or the degree to which, their use is actually monitored. After all, license provisions are not widely publicized (the licensing contracts in our data set, for example, were disclosed pursuant to open records requests), and the licenses only reveal that some monitoring takes place. The intensity and precision of that monitoring remains unclear and is likely to vary by publisher and by library. Thus, patrons may not know enough that monitoring actually affects their behavior. That is a fairly powerful argument that monitoring provisions in licensing contracts do not undermine internal, positive intellectual freedom. If it is true that no one actually alters their inquiries based on monitoring because they are unaware of monitoring, then there would not appear to be any limitation on persons' internal, positive intellectual freedom. For actions to be chilled requires that persons be aware of monitoring and for that awareness to have some effect upon their behaviors. If monitoring is well hidden or if persons are simply unaware of it, then there will be correspondingly less concern about chilling effects and internal positive freedom. Indeed, if chilling effects were the sole concern of intellectual freedom, there would be a strong case against disclosing monitoring activities. Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 443 Freedom and Autonomy Because it is unlikely that patrons have a clear idea of how much of their activity is actually subject to monitoring, the license provisions implicate the third facet of intellectual freedom, or quality of agency. Recall that this facet is at root about individual autonomy, or the ability to act according to one's own reasons as one sees fit. Autonomy in turn requires information important in determining how to steer one's choices to comport with one's values, and it demands information important in making sense of how one is being treated. To the extent that licensing provisions require or allow monitoring and data collection, and to the extent that such actions matter to patrons, this facet of intellectual freedom demands disclosure of those provisions. Whether users are actually aware of the degree to which their uses may be monitored and information collected is unclear, but license terms are obscured in a number of ways. They are in the relatively difficult language of contracts; they may require open records requests to see (and if they are not licenses involving public institutions, such requests are not an option); they differ across publisher and license; interpreting them demands knowledge of the underlying technologies and institutional practices of libraries and publishers. The upshot is that surveillance will implicate a different facet of intellectual freedom depending on whether it is overt (which will implicate internal, positive freedom) or covert (which will implicate freedom-as-agency). Thus, the fact (if it is a fact) that persons using electronic journals are unaware of the degree to which their uses are monitored is not sufficient to conclude that their intellectual freedom is unimpinged. Republican Freedom A different potential concern bridges privacy and authorized use. In the separate section of the paper, we describe a number of ways in which uses may conflict with the terms of licensing agreements and a number of uses that appear both routine and unauthorized. This is significant in two ways. One is that licensing terms provide bounds of criminal conduct.68 Under the U.S. Computer Fraud and Abuse Act (CFAA), any person who "intentionally accesses a computer without authorization or exceeds authorized access, and thereby obtains...information from any protected computer" may be subject to criminal and civil sanction.69 This is one of the statutes under which Aaron Swartz was charged. While Swartz's actions involved large-scale downloading and attempts to mask his identity, at root those actions are relevant because they are instances of exceeding authorized use. That is, Swartz's actions fall within the purview of the CFAA based upon licensing terms. Moreover, license terms both set the bar for unauthorized access well below what happened in the Swartz case, are vague about what precisely exceeds authorized access, and in some cases seem to prohibit mundane types of access. Hence, there is a legally plausible case for criminal conduct and civil liability for activities that are either within, or not far outside, norms of scholarly activity. A second reason this is significant is that licenses generally provide that users may lose authorization to access materials based on violations of license terms. Further, publishers may monitor the activities of individual users and may retain that information over time. Licenses almost all stipulate that they retain the right to enforce those provisions, even if at times they fail to enforce license provisions. This combination exposes users to restrictions on use (and both criminal and civil liability) in the future based on data collected in the past. The potential for enforcement, either by restriction of use in the undefined future or for criminal charges, implicates the fourth facet of freedom-freedom from arbitrary power. As discussed, Lovett outlines three conditions under which republican freedom is limited, such that one may be subject to arbitrary power: an imbalance of power, a "dependency" relation, such that costs would be incurred by the party with less 444 College & Research Libraries May 2015 power by exiting the relationship, and an absence of known rules or conventions governing use of power.70 In the case of users and publishers and prosecutors, there does seem to be a difference in power; individuals have less power than publishers and prosecutors. And users of university libraries would incur substantial costs by not using electronic resources for their research. These conditions by themselves are unproblematic, though. It is only with the further presence of the third condition that republican freedom is limited. Is there, then, an absence of known rules or conventions governing use of power? The Swartz case does suggest an absence of known rules or conventions. Prior to the Swartz case, there do not appear to have been indictments under the CFAA for unauthorized access, or exceeding authorized access, of materials licensed by libraries, and the indictment under the CFAA was surprising to many people. Further, the principal parties did not express support for the prosecution in the first place. JSTOR indicated that, once its documents had been secured, it "had no interest in [the case] becoming an ongoing legal matter," and MIT expressed no statement regarding the merits of prosecution at all.71 Hence, there does not appear to be a rule or convention that excessive downloading would be subject to criminal charges. Now, a number of commentators have argued that the charges were legally cognizable under the language of the CFAA, and one might argue that the law itself provides the kind of rule governing the use of power that is necessary for republican freedom. But, even if we assume that is the case, whether the charges were supported by the law is a separate question from whether the exercise of prosecutor discretion to bring the charges was itself within rules or conventions surrounding unauthorized use, or exceeding authorized use, of licensed materials. After all, both the law itself and its application may be so broad as to be arbitrary. Moreover, to say that rules or conventions exist surrounding discretionary prosecution just in virtue of the fact that the law supports prosecution would entail (implausibly) that laws or the use of laws is by definition nonarbitrary. Moreover, it would assume the answer to the very question we are asking in this section, that is to say, whether it is an arbitrary exercise of power to use the CFAA to bring charges for unauthorized use or exceeding authorized use of licensed resources. The facts of the Swartz case, however, are extreme-large-scale, automated downloading that Swartz likely knew to conflict with license terms. That looks nothing like the kind of mundane violations we have described, and one might argue that such low-level offenses would never be prosecuted in the way Swartz was. On the republican conception of freedom, however, it is not actual interference that limits liberty, but the ability of others to interfere arbitrarily (even if they don't). That is the force of the mob example: the mere fact that one happens to steer clear of mob interference does not entail that one is free of the mob, for without effective legal authority controlling the mob, it has the ability to exercise its power over others arbitrarily. Regardless of whether it is justifiable to prosecute actions such as Swartz's, the language of the CFAA is broad enough that comparatively minor cases could also be subject to criminal sanctions or civil liability. Up to this point, they haven't been prosecuted, but the ability to do so is what limits republican freedom. Moreover, even if there were explicit rules adopted by the U.S. Department of Justice not to prosecute these sorts of unauthorized uses, the CFAA still imposes civil liability. Hence, there would remain the possibility of licensors suing library patrons for unauthorized access or exceeding authorized access, which also would appear to meet the three conditions for being subject to arbitrary power. It is certainly true that the extent to which arbitrary power can be exercised is less in the civil liability case than in the criminal case. That, however, only tells us that this fourth, republican, facet of freedom admits of degree.72 Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 445 Now, one might argue that this is not about privacy, but instead about authorized access provisions and the scope of the U.S. criminal code. It is correct that the primary concern is that license terms underwrite criminal and civil liability. However, because of the requirements that libraries monitor and notify publishers about unauthorized use, and in some cases are required to maintain relevant information and cooperate with investigations, the provisions affecting privacy are mechanisms by which this fourth facet of intellectual freedom is affected. Summary and Recommendations To sum up, our data indicate that licenses conflict with at least some language advanced by the ALA, with some aspects of two model contracts developed by library professionals, and with recommendations set out by Lipinski. Whether they conflict with the underlying value justifying privacy protections-intellectual freedom-depends on the facet of intellectual freedom. It is difficult to see how they conflict with negative intellectual freedom or internal, positive freedom. However, the likelihood that patrons are unaware of privacy-affecting provisions, and the difficulty of figuring out just how privacy is affected by use of electronic resources, creates an important conflict with the quality-of-agency facet of intellectual freedom. Moreover, the relationship between unauthorized access, or exceeding authorized access, and criminal and civil liability, the possibility of losing access to licensed material, publishers' ability to gather information about unauthorized access, and libraries' obligations (in some cases) to monitor, notify about, and collect information about such use, create an important conflict with the fourth facet of intellectual freedom, or freedom from arbitrary power. There remains, however, an important question about whether such tensions between licenses and the values of the library profession are sufficient to justify the risk of being unable to reach agreement on license terms and thus risking patron access to licensed resources. Likewise, it is unclear whether it would be worth paying more for licenses that provide greater privacy protections. After all, failing to provide such resources may also limit intellectual freedom.73 Nonetheless, there are several things that are worth considering. First, libraries should ensure that contract terms pertaining to data collection, data sharing with third parties, and monitoring and disciplinary actions for unauthorized use are transparent to users. Although most users are unlikely to peruse the terms of licenses, making the terms readily available is a necessary (though not sufficient) condition for respecting the autonomy of patrons and thus for supporting the qualityof-agency facet of intellectual freedom. Related, libraries should seek to make privacyaffecting provisions similar across licenses. The fact that contracts are so different from publisher to publisher makes it all the more difficult for users to know what provisions are in effect. Next, libraries should resist license terms obliging them to monitor for unauthorized use, and they should make clear in licenses where they do not have the ability to identify individual users. In fact, libraries would go a long way to securing intellectual freedom (in all its facets) by implementing several of Lipinski's suggestions. For example, rather than notifications requirements, libraries could push for provisions allowing them to correct unauthorized access issues "in-house." Related, libraries could push for provisions such that licensors can terminate authorized access only were they provide licensees with notice and the opportunity to remedy violations. Libraries might also specify in contracts that they will not provide individual user information in any case, regardless of any language suggesting that they will "cooperate" or "cooperate fully" with publishers' investigations of copyright infringement and unauthorized use. And they could specify that any information shared with third parties be in anonymous and aggregate form. 446 College & Research Libraries May 2015 Last but not least, libraries can reduce the privacy risks associated with investigating unauthorized uses in multiple ways. The first step is to adopt privacy-preserving authentication technologies such as Shibboleth (as many libraries already do) to reduce the user information directly obtained by publishers. Then both libraries and campus IT departments should regularly purge the records kept in their servers to minimize the amount of user information that could be requested by publishers to a great extent. We would like to thank Kristin Eschenfelder, Dorothea Salo, Sue Dentinger, Bryce Newell, Faye Jones, and Anne Klinefelter, and the anonymous reviewers for College & Research Libraries for comments on earlier versions of this paper. Notes 1. Indictment, U.S. v. Swartz No. 1:11-cr-10260-NMG (D. Mass. July 14, 2011); Superseding Indictment, U.S. v. Swartz (Sept. 12, 2012). 2. Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), Report to the President: MIT and the Prosecution of Aaron Swartz, available online at http://swartz-report.mit.edu/docs/report-to-the-president.pdf [accessed 1 November 2013]. 3. 18 U.S.C. § 1030(a). "Protected computer" is interpreted to mean any computer used in interstate commerce, or "effectively all computers with Internet access." U.S. v. Nosal, 676 F.3d 854, 859 (9th Cir. 2012). 4. See Nancy Sims, "Library Licensing and Criminal Law: The Aaron Swartz Case," College & Research Libraries News 72, no. 9 (Oct. 1, 2011): 534–37. 5. Tomas A. Lipinski, The Librarian's Legal Companion for Licensing Information Resources and Services (Chicago: Neal-Schuman, 2013). 6. American Library Association, Intellectual Freedom Manual, 8th ed. (Chicago: American Library Association, 2010), 312. 7. Ibid., 304. 8. Ibid., 177. 9. Ibid., 150. The emphasis on privacy is reflected in professional attitudes. A survey in 2012 found that 95 percent of librarians in the study agreed that users should be able to control who could look at their personal information; and more than 95 percent of surveyed librarians believed that businesses and government agencies shouldn't share personal information with third parties unless they obtain users' permission and only for specific purposes. ALA News, "CIPR Survey Confirms Librarians' Commitment to Protecting Privacy Rights," May 1, 2012, available online at http://cipr.uwm.edu/?p=81 [accessed 7 April 2015]. 10. American Library Association, Intellectual Freedom Manual, 41. (citing American Library Association, "Privacy: An Interpretation of the Library Bill of Rights," 2002, available online at www.ala.org/Template.cfm?Section=interpretations&Template=/ContentManagement/ContentDisplay.cfm&ContentID=132904 [accessed 7 April 2015].) 11. American Library Association, Intellectual Freedom Manual, 179. 12. Ibid., 178. 13. Ibid. 14. Canadian Library Association, Canadian Library Association Code of Ethics (June 1976), available online at www.cla.ca/Content/NavigationMenu/Resources/PositionStatements/Code_of_Ethics.htm [accessed 7 April 2015]. 15. Loida Garcia-Febo et al., IFLA Code of Ethics for Librarians and Other Information Workers (The Hague International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions, August 2012), 3, available online at www.ifla.org/files/assets/faife/publications/IFLA%20Code%20of%20Ethics%20 -%20Long_0.pdf [accessed 7 April 2015]. 16. Pnina Shachaf, "A Global Perspective on Library Association Codes of Ethics," Library & Information Science Research 27, no. 4 (2005): 513–33. 17. American Library Association, Intellectual Freedom Manual, 305–319; Stacey L. Bowers, "Privacy and Library Records," Journal of Academic Librarianship 32, no. 4 (July 2006): 377–83, doi:10.1016/j.acalib.2006.03.005. 18. American Library Association, Intellectual Freedom Manual, 178. 19. International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions (IFLA), IFLA Statement on Libraries and Intellectual Freedom (2013), available online at www.ifla.org/publications/iflastatement-on-libraries-and-intellectual-freedom [accessed 7 April 2015]. 20. Croatian Library Association, Statement on Free Access to Information (Sept. 2000), available Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 447 online at http://www.ifla.org/files/assets/faife/statements/hkdstat.pdf [accessed 7 April 2015]; Japan Library Association, A Statement on Intellectual Freedom in Libraries (May 30, 1979), available online at http://www.ifla.org/files/assets/faife/statements/jlastat.pdf [accessed 7 April 2015]; Library & Information Association New Zealand Aotearoa (LIANZA), Access to Information (May 11, 1978), available online at http://www.ifla.org/files/assets/faife/statements/nzacc.pdf [accessed 7 April 2015]; Turkish Librarians' Association, Intellectual Freedom Statement (Feb. 22, 2008), available online at http://www.ifla.org/files/assets/faife/statements/tlastat.pdf [accessed 7 April 2015]; Chartered Institute of Library and Information Professionals (CILIP), User Privacy in Libraries: Guidelines for the Reflective Practitioner (2011), available online at www.cilip.org.uk/sites/default/ files/documents/Privacy_June_AW.pdf [accessed 7 April 2015]. 21. See, for example, Charles Fried, An Anatomy of Values; Problems of Personal and Social Choice (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1970); Julie C. Inness, Privacy, Intimacy, and Isolation (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992); and James Rachels, "Why Privacy Is Important," Philosophy and Public Affairs 4, no. 4 (Summer 1975): 323–33 for views on privacy's value in terms of personal and professional relationships; Ruth Gavison, "Privacy and the Limits of Law," Yale Law Journal 89, no. 3 (Jan. 1, 1980): 421–71; Anita L. Allen, Uneasy Access: Privacy for Women in a Free Society (Totowa, N.J.: Rowman & Littlefield, 1988); Judith Wagner DeCew, In Pursuit of Privacy: Law, Ethics, and the Rise of Technology (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1997) for views relating privacy to important decisions and democratic processes; and Edward Bloustein, "Privacy as an Aspect of Human Dignity: An Answer to Dean Prosser," New York University Law Review 39 (1964): 962–1007 for a view explicitly linking privacy to human dignity. 22. Richard A Posner, "The Right of Privacy," Georgia Law Review 12 (1977): 393. 23. Catharine A. MacKinnon, Toward a Feminist Theory of the State (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1989); Anita L. Allen, Uneasy Access: Privacy for Women in a Free Society (Totowa, N.J.: Rowman & Littlefield, 1988). 24. Jeremy Waldron, "Security and Liberty: The Image of Balance*," Journal of Political Philosophy 11, no. 2 (2003): 191–210, doi:10.1111/1467-9760.00174; Richard A. Posner, "Privacy, Surveillance, and Law," University of Chicago Law Review 75 (2008): 245. 25. Eliza T. Dresang, "Intellectual Freedom and Libraries: Complexity and Change in the Twenty-First-Century Digital Environment," The Library Quarterly 76, no. 2 (Apr. 1, 2006): 169–92; Alan Rubel, "Libraries, Electronic Resources, and Privacy: The Case for Positive Intellectual Freedom," The Library Quarterly 84, no. 2: 183–208, at 188–89 26. This theoretical framework has been developed more fully developed in Rubel, "Libraries, Electronic Resources, and Privacy" and Alan Rubel "Privacy and Positive Intellectual Freedom," Journal of Social Philosophy) 45(3) (Fall 2014): 390–407. 27. Isaiah Berlin, Four Essays on Liberty (London: Oxford University Press, 1969); Ian Carter, "Positive and Negative Liberty," in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta, (Fall 2008), available online at http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2008/entries/liberty-positivenegative/ [accessed 7 April 2015]. 28. American Library Association, Intellectual Freedom Manual, 178. 29. Julie E. Cohen, "Information Rights and Intellectual Freedom," in Ethics and the Internet, ed. Anton Vedder (Antwerp: Intersentia, 2001): 11–32; Neil M. Richards, "Intellectual Privacy," Texas Law Review 87 (2008): 387; Marc Jonathan Blitz, "Constitutional Safeguards for Silent Experiments in Living: Libraries, the Right to Read, and a First Amendment Theory for an Unaccompanied Right to Receive Information," UMKC Law Review 74 (2006): 799. 30. Carter, "Positive and Negative Liberty"; Berlin, Four Essays on Liberty; John Christman, "Saving Positive Freedom," Political Theory 33, no. 1 (Feb. 1, 2005): 79–88. 31. American Library Association, Intellectual Freedom Manual, 178. 32. Ibid. 33. Linda Greenhouse, "F.B.I. Defends Library Monitoring Program," New York Times (July 14, 1988), available online at www.nytimes.com/1988/07/14/us/fbi-defends-library-monitoringprogram.html [accessed 7 April 2015]; Herbert N. Foerstel, Surveillance in the Stacks: The FBI's Library Awareness Program (New York: Greenwood Press, 1991). 34. Public Law 107–56 (2001). 35. Of course, secret surveillance often gets revealed, which could in turn result in chilling effects and other negative consequences. Nonetheless, if it is only such effects that matter for intellectual freedom, one could maintain that it is the revelation, rather than the surveillance, that is the primary threat. Surely, though, the surveillance itself is the limitation on freedom rather than awareness of it. 36. John Christman, "Liberalism and Individual Positive Freedom," Ethics 101, no. 2 (Jan. 1, 1991): 343–59; Christman, "Saving Positive Freedom." 37. Thomas E. Hill, Jr., "Autonomy and Benevolent Lies," Journal of Value Inquiry 18 (1984): 251–97. Alan Rubel, "Privacy and the USA Patriot Act: Rights, the Value of Rights, and Autonomy," 448 College & Research Libraries May 2015 Law & Philosophy 26 no. 2 (2007) 119–59. 38. See Robert Streiffer and Alan Rubel, "Democratic Principles and Mandatory Labeling of Genetically Engineered Foods," Public Affairs Quarterly 18, no. 3 (2004): 223–48 39. Philip Pettit, "Keeping Republican Freedom Simple: On a Difference with Quentin Skinner," Political Theory 30, no. 3 (June 1, 2002): 339–56; Philip Pettit, "Freedom as Antipower," Ethics 106, no. 3 (Apr. 1, 1996): 576–604. 40. American Library Association, Intellectual Freedom Manual, 42. 41. Francis N. Lovett, "Domination: A Preliminary Analysis," Monist 84, no. 1 (Jan. 2001): 98–112. 42. John Braithwaite, Not Just Deserts: A Republican Theory of Criminal Justice (Oxford [England], New York: Clarendon Press; Oxford University Press, 1990), 95. (emphasis added) 43. Lesley Ellen Harris, Licensing Digital Content: A Practical Guide for Librarians, 2nd ed. (Chicago: American Library Association, 2009). 44. Lipinski, The Librarian's Legal Companion for Licensing Information Resources and Services, 476. 45. Kristin R. Eschenfelder et al., "How Institutionalized Are Model License Use Terms? An Analysis of E-Journal License Use Rights Clauses from 2000 to 2009," College & Research Libraries 74, no. 4 (2013): 351. 46. Xiaohua Zhu and Kristin R. Eschenfelder, "Social Construction of Authorized Users in the Digital Age," College & Research Libraries 71, no. 6 (Nov. 1, 2010): 548–68. 47. Ibid. 48. Karen A. Coombs, "Protecting USER PRIVACY in the Age of DIGITAL LIBRARIES," Computers in Libraries 25, no. 6 (June 2005): 16–20; Peter E. Murray and Association of Research Libraries, Library Patron Privacy: SPEC Kit, SPEC Kit 278 (Washington, D.C.: Association of Research Libraries, Office of Leadership and Management Services, 2003). 49. Ted Bergstrom, Paul Courant, and R. Preston McAfee, "Big Deal Contract Project," 2009, available online at www.econ.ucsb.edu/~tedb/Journals/BundleContracts.html [accessed 7 April 2015]. 50. Eschenfelder et al., "How Institutionalized Are Model License Use Terms," 327. 51. Because our data set included licenses through 2009, we contacted the libraries whose licenses were in our data set to determine whether the licenses were the latest agreements between the libraries and publishers. We were unable to obtain information from all libraries with respect to all publishers. However, most of the licenses about which we were able to obtain information were still in effect through 2013. As part of this process, we also collected seven new licenses. Close reading of these licenses indicate few changes in the privacy-affecting provisions examined in this paper. 52. Eschenfelder et al., "How Institutionalized Are Model License Use Terms." 53. "Liblicense Model License Agreement & Commentary" (2008), available online at http:// liblicense.crl.edu/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/licenseagreements/standlicagree.pdf [accessed 7 April 2015]; "Standard License Agreement: Publisher and the Regents of the University of California," California Digital Library (2011), available online at www.cdlib.org/gateways/vendors/ docs/Model_License_LATEST_Revised_10-09.docx [accessed 7 April 2015]. 54. Lipinski, The Librarian's Legal Companion for Licensing Information Resources and Services; Harris, Licensing Digital Content. 55. Trina J. Magi, "A Content Analysis of Library Vendor Privacy Policies: Do They Meet Our Standards?" College & Research Libraries 71, no. 3 (May 2010): 254–72. 56. Requirements that libraries monitor patron activity have relatively recent precedent. When photocopy services first appeared in libraries, they were provided by library staff. To limit liability for copyright infringement, most libraries required patrons to fill out a request form affirming that the copies would be used only for the requestors' private study. Betsy A. Bernfeld, "Free to Photocopy?" Legal Reference Services Quarterly 25, no. 2/3 (2006): 1–49, doi:10.1300/J113v25n02_01. When libraries began providing self-service copiers, there was substantial discussion of libraries' responsibility to monitor patron copying. LaHood and Sullivan, for example, were concerned about some librarians' "laissez-faire attitude" toward users' copying, and they contended that librarians should monitor in the self-service copying. Charles G. LaHood and Robert C. Sullivan, Reprographic Services in Libraries: Organization and Administration, LTP Publication; No. 19 (Chicago: Library Technology Program, American Library Association, 1975). In contrast, Treece argued that Congress chose not to impose a requirement that libraries supervise photocopying, since the Copyright Act of 1976 stated that libraries were not to be held liable for copyright infringement "for the unsupervised use of reproducing equipment on its premises: Provided, that such equipment displays a notice that the making of a copy may be subject to the copyright law." James M. Treece, "Library Photocopying," UCLA Law Review 24 (1977): 1025–69. 57. "The licensee shall keep full and up-to-date records of all authorized users and their access Four Facets of Privacy and Intellectual Freedom 449 details, and if appropriate provide the Publisher with periodic lists of additions, deletions or other alterations to such records as agreed between the parties from time to time." And "Licensee shall keep full and up-to-date records of all Authorized Users and their access details, which shall be provided to Emerald upon request." 58. Lipinski, The Librarian's Legal Companion for Licensing Information Resources and Services, 452. 59. See Theresa Chmara, Privacy and Confidentiality Issues: A Guide for Libraries and Their Lawyers, 1st ed. (American Library Association Editions, Chicago, 2009) for a compendium of state library privacy laws. 60. Lipinski, The Librarian's Legal Companion for Licensing Information Resources and Services, 531–32. 61. Launched in 2002, the COUNTER codes set standards for libraries, publishers and intermediaries, to regulate the recording and reporting of online usage statistics "in a credible, consistent, and compatible way." Although COUNTER does not use the exact words "in aggregated form" to set restrictions on the usage report provided by publishers, it specifies in the "customer confidentiality" section of the COUNTER Codes (which is in turn based on International Coalition of Library Consortia (ICOLC) Guidelines) that publishers must obtain the "the permission of that individual user, the consortium, and its member institutions" before they release or sell "statistical reports or data that reveal information about individual users." "The COUNTER Code of Practice for E-Resources: Release 4" (Apr. 2012), 1, 29, available online at www.projectcounter. org/r4/COPR4.pdf [accessed 7 April 2015]. 62. Ellen Finnie Duranceau et al., "After the License Is Signed," The Serials Librarian 48, no. 3/4 (2005): 340, doi:10.1300/J123v48n03_18. 63. Lipinski, The Librarian's Legal Companion for Licensing Information Resources and Services, 448. 64. Ibid., 451. 65. Ibid., 448. 66. American Library Association, Intellectual Freedom Manual, 178. 67. Ibid. 68. Sims, "Library Licensing and Criminal Law." 69. 18 U.S.C. §§ 1030(a)(2)(C), 1030(g). There is some dispute regarding the proper interpretation of "unauthorized" and "exceeds authorized access" in the CFAA. The Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, for example, has determined that using information one has authorization to access for unauthorized purposes is not unauthorized access or exceeding of authorized access. U.S. v. Nosal, 676 F.3d 854 (9th Cir., 2012); see also U.S. v. Drew, 259 F.R.D. 449 (C.D. Cal., 2009) (holding that providing false information to a website, in violation of terms of service does not constitute unauthorized or exceeding of authorized access). However, these cases do not appear to provide grounds for avoiding criminal charges in cases like Swartz's. Lee Goldman distinguishes several interpretations of unauthorized access and exceeding unauthorized access: an "agency" approach, such that acting contrary to one's employer's interest violates the law; a "contract" approach, such that violating an employment or terms of service contract violates the law; and a "plain meaning" approach such that only access, and not use, of information violates the law. "Interpreting the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act," Pittsburgh Journal of Technology Law & Policy 13, no. 1 (2012). Under any of these interpretations, the CFAA would appear to give rise to liability for unauthorized use or exceeding authorized use of licensed library materials. 70. Lovett, "Domination." 71. MIT, Report to the President, 84–85. 72. Lovett, "Domination," 101. A related issue of privacy and arbitrary power in electronic resources concerns potential loss of attorney-client privilege. See Anne Klinefelter, "When to Research is to Reveal: The Growing Threat to Attorney and Client Confidentiality from Online Tracking," Virginia Journal of Law & Technology 16, no. 1 (Spring 2011): 22–30. 73. Rubel, "Libraries, Electronic Resources, and Privacy," 200.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
The Lab's Quarterly Il Trimestrale del Laboratorio 2016 / n. 1 / gennaio-marzo Dipartimento di Scienze Politiche UNIVERSITÀ DI PISA DIRETTORE Andrea Borghini COMITATO SCIENTIFICO Andrea Borghini (Pisa) Matteo Bortolini (Padova) Massimo Cerulo (Perugia) Marco Chiuppesi (Pisa) Luca Corchia (Pisa) Franco Crespi (Perugia) Mariano Croce (Roma) Paolo De Nardis (Roma) Elena Gremigni (Pisa) Roberta Iannone (Roma) Mariano Longo (Lecce) Domenico Maddaloni (Salerno), Stefan Müller-Doohm (Oldenburg) Gerardo Pastore (Pisa) Gabriella Paolucci (Firenze) Vincenza Pellegrino (Parma) Massimo Pendenza (Salerno) Mauro Piras (Torino) Eleonora Piromalli (Roma) Walter Privitera (Milano) COMITATO EDITORIALE Luca Corchia (segretario) Marco Chiuppesi Elena Gremigni Gerardo Pastore CONTATTI [email protected] Gli articoli della rivista sono sottoposti a un doppio processo di peer-review. Le informazioni per i collaboratori sono disponibili sul sito della rivista. ISSN 1724-451X © Dipartimento di Scienze Politiche Università di Pisa Dipartimento di Scienze Politiche UNIVERSITÀ DI PISA "The Lab's Quarterly" è una rivista che risponde alla necessità degli studiosi del Dipartimento di Scienze Politiche dell'Università di Pisa di contribuire all'indagine teorica ed empirica e di divulgarne i risultati presso la comunità scientifica e il più vasto pubblico degli interessati. I campi di studio riguardano le riflessioni epistemologiche sullo statuto conoscitivo delle scienze sociali, le procedure logiche comuni a ogni forma di sapere e quelle specifiche del sapere scientifico, le tecniche di rilevazione e di analisi dei dati, l'indagine sulle condizioni di genesi e di utilizzo della conoscenza e le teorie sociologiche sulle formazioni sociali contemporanee, approfondendo la riproduzione materiale e simbolica del mondo della vita: lo studio degli individui, dei gruppi sociali, delle tradizioni culturali, dei processi economici e politici. Un contributo significativo è offerto dagli studenti, le cui tesi di laurea e di dottorato costituiscono un materiale prezioso che restituiamo alla conoscenza delle comunità scientifiche, affinché non vadano perdute. Il fondatore Massimo Ampola 5 The Lab's Quarterly Il Trimestrale del Laboratorio 2016 / n. 1 / gennaio-marzo SOCIOLOGIA DELLA COMUNICAZIONE Luca Corchia La comunicazione istituzionale. Dalle riforme degli anni Novanta alla legge 150/2000 7 PSICO-SOCIOLOGIA DEI GRUPPI Marco Trainito I memi e gli agenti di Minsky: per una teoria naturalistica integrata della trasmissione culturale 49 Laura Corrente, Massimo Santoro L'immagine corporea in adolescenza e il disturbo del comportamento alimentare 71 SOCIOLOGIA DELLA EDUCAZIONE Elena Gremigni Lights and Shadows of CLIL Methodology. The case of Italy 101 STORIA DEL PENSIERO SOCIOLOGICO Marco Chiuppesi L'attivismo civico di George Herbert Mead 123 Dipartimento di Scienze Politiche UNIVERSITÀ DI PISA SOCIOLOGIA DELLA COMUNICAZIONE LA COMUNICAZIONE ISTITUZIONALE. Dalle riforme degli anni Novanta alla legge 150/2000 di Luca Corchia Indice Introduzione 8 1. Le riforme dell'amministrazione locale negli anni Novanta 12 1.2. Le leggi n. 142/1990 e n. 241/1990 14 1.2. L'istituzione degli Uffici per le Relazioni con il Pubblico 18 1.3. I principi di erogazione dei servizi pubblici e la Carta dei Servizi 22 1.4. Le c.d. "leggi Bassanini" 25 2. La legge n. 150 del 7 giugno 2000 e gli sviluppi normativi 28 2.1. Ambiti di applicazione e finalità 29 2.2. Le strutture: il portavoce, l'ufficio stampa e l'URP 34 3. Note critiche conclusive 37 Riferimenti bibliografici 44 INTRODUZIONE Delle dimensioni concettuali di cui si compone la "comunicazione pubblica" – politica, sociale e istituzionale –, considereremo quest'ultima. Seguendo la definizione di Roberto Grandi l'oggetto del presente saggio è: una comunicazione realizzata da una pubblica amministrazione che, utilizzando tutti i media a disposizione, pubblicizza presso le diverse tipologie di pubblici, interni ed esterni, la produzione normativa, le attività, le funzioni, l'identità e il punto di vista dell'ente al fine di: garantire ai cittadini il pieno diritto all'informazione, costruire e rafforzare l'immagine dell'ente pubblico, offrire ai cittadini la possibilità di esprimere in maniera attiva e sostanziale i diritti di cittadinanza per giungere ad una amministrazione condivisa, produrre un cambiamento della cultura dell'amministrazione pubblica» (20022, p. 14)1. La definizione esprime tutti gli ambiti e le finalità previsti dalle norme e dottrine sulla comunicazione istituzionale. A tale riguardo, Nicoletta Levi ribadisce la centralità della comunicazione istituzionale sia come strumento di tutela dei diritti dei cittadini nei confronti delle amministrazioni pubbliche sia come opportunità per le amministrazioni pubbliche di migliorare i processi di organizzazione del lavoro e la qualità dei servizi. Tanto più per l'importanza che i processi comunicativi assumono nella società attuale caratterizzata da fenomeni a forte interdipendenza e complessità, la comunicazione può essere assunta come strumento a garanzia della efficacia degli interventi, a condizione che le istituzioni siano disposte ad assumere non solo i propri dipendenti quali protagonisti dell'organizzazione in grado di conoscerne e valutarne i punti di forza e di debolezza ma anche gli utenti esterni – i cittadini – quali misuratori della qualità degli stessi servizi. La comunicazione incontra una rinnovata maturità del sistema sociale che esprime un bisogno di partecipazione alle scelte pubbliche difficilmente ignorabile, al di là della mera rappresentanza (2006, p. 9). Problemi, quali la tutela ambientale, l'urbanistica, l'istruzione, il lavoro, i servizi socio-sanitari, etc., rappresentano delle sfide per 1 Va precisato che l'attenzione si sofferma in particolare sulle attività di comunicazione dei Comuni e delle Provincie anche se comunemente sarà impiegato il termine amministrazioni pubbliche che, ai sensi del D.Lgs. 30 marzo 2001, n. 165, art. 1, comma 2 ricomprende, invece, «tutte le amministrazioni dello Stato, ivi compresi gli istituti e scuole di ogni ordine e grado e le istituzioni educative, le aziende ed amministrazioni dello Stato ad ordinamento autonomo, le regioni, le province, i comuni, le comunità montane, e loro consorzi e associazioni, le istituzioni universitarie, gli istituti autonomi case popolari, le camere di commercio, industria, artigianato e agricoltura e loro associazioni, tutti gli enti pubblici non economici nazionali, regionali e locali, le amministrazioni, le aziende e gli enti del Servizio sanitario nazionale». LUCA CORCHIA 9 l'intera comunità sociale. E su tali questioni, la comunicazione istituzionale deve offrire gli elementi di conoscenza e le occasioni di confronto al fine di risolverli attraverso la collaborazione reciproca. I paesi europei hanno conosciuto nel corso degli ultimi decenni una stagione di riforme e di trasformazioni della pubblica amministrazione. L'estensione, l'intensità e la direzione dei cambiamenti, progettati o attuati, sono dissimili in ciascuno Stato in conseguenza di contesti strutturali e contingenti. Nondimeno vi sono alcuni obiettivi comuni che richiamano la necessità di adeguare le formule organizzative e gli interventi alle esigenze del nostro tempo. Mario Rodrigez (2004) ha precisato lo spettro delle tre angolature a partire da cui le amministrazioni pubbliche si sono poste il problema della comunicazione: a) la trasparenza, il diritto all'informazione nelle sue molteplici valenze, il problema dell'accesso agli atti, ecc.; b) l'efficacia organizzativa, cioè la capacità di perseguire consapevolmente gli obiettivi amministrativi; c) la partecipazione democratica con il delicato problema del rapporto tra government e governance. Se fine delle riforme degli ultimi decenni è quello di ridefinire una pubblica amministrazione che sia per il cittadino non più fonte di incomprensibili complicazioni ma un valido strumento in grado di approntare delle risposte efficaci a bisogni sempre più complessi e che lo stesso cittadino non è in grado di soddisfare autonomamente, tale fine non è ipotizzabile al di fuori di un'autentica relazione tra le parti: una relazione trasparente, semplice, partecipata e cooperativa. Solamente una pubblica amministrazione che si doti di strumenti atti a comprendere tali bisogni, entrando in rapporto diretto con i propri cittadini, potrà garantire dei servizi adeguati. Tale esigenza si colloca appieno nel quadro delle trasformazioni della politica democratica, e può rappresentare la risposta delle pubbliche amministrazioni alla crescente domanda di apertura, efficacia e controllo. In tale contesto generale, i temi della comunicazione e della partecipazione rappresentano, ai fini di una buona governance, un riferimento sempre maggiore nel quadro normativo e programmatico comunitario, nazionale e locale. Come ricorda Luigi Bobbio, la comunicazione istituzionale e le pratiche partecipative non sono mai state estranee agli enti locali; tuttavia, negli ultimi decenni si assiste a un proliferare di esperienze, differenti per localizzazione geografica, livello territoriale, ambito tematico, metodi e strumenti attuativi ma tutte accomunate dall'intento di ricomporre la distanza che separa il sistema politico-amministrativo dai cittadini nel governo della res publica (2007, p. 11). Occorre restituire al cittadino un rinnovato ruolo nella vita dell'amministrazione e recuperare 10 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 l'amministrazione al suo ruolo di servizio e di rappresentanza nei confronti dell'intera cittadinanza. Le iniziative di riforma della pubblica amministrazione, con il rafforzamento dei livelli locali di governo, possono realizzarsi solo con il consenso dei cittadini da avvicinare attraverso adeguati processi di comunicazione e partecipazione. Il coinvolgimento attivo dei singoli cittadini e degli attori collettivi rimane fondamentale per migliorare la qualità delle politiche pubbliche per diverse ragioni: per un verso, esprime una maggiore democraticità delle policies, per un altro, è anche una condizione per l'efficacia degli interventi. Senza un codice condiviso di valori e comportamenti, infatti, tali politiche rischiano di rimanere inadeguate. La comunicazione istituzionale deve supportare il rapporto tra la pubblica amministrazione e la società civile promuovendo delle assunzioni di responsabilità reciproche volte a collaborare alla soluzione dei problemi nell'interesse generale (Grandi 20022, 54). Alla base del processo di innovazione, vi sono gli obiettivi che la comunicazione pubblica si prefigge dalla valorizzazione dei diritti di cittadinanza al consolidamento del senso di appartenenza socio-culturale, dall'educazione alla democrazia all'attuazione di modalità di governance partecipata. L'attivazione e il potenziamento di modalità di comunica– zione e di partecipazione con e dei cittadini devono promuovere la responsabilizzazione di entrambe le parti coinvolte e dovendo generare un circolo virtuoso che confluisce nella tutela degli interessi generali. Il duplice effetto è sottolineato da Franca Faccioli e Barbara Mazza: Sono, dunque, le connessioni e l'attivazione di dinamiche fiduciali a implementare i livelli di relazionalità, sino a produrre interdipendenze diffuse e consapevoli che alimentano disponibilità, partecipazione e cittadinanza attiva. L'implementazione delle azioni di ascolto rappresenta un valore imprescindibile non solo per il miglioramento dei servizi, ma soprattutto per affermare quella consapevolezza che sottende all'assunzione di responsabilità, alla volontà di condividere, alla costruzione di una cultura interna alle organizzazioni, incentrata sulla progettazione di soluzioni destinate a coniugare aspettative specifiche e interesse di tutti (2008, p. 2). Processi di informazione, comunicazione e partecipazione appaiono essere, al contempo, prescrizione e diagnosi della nuova stagione della democrazia italiana. Tuttavia, le modalità di applicazione traduzione delle nuove norme e dei nuovi indirizzi amministrativi in atti concreti istituzionali si rivelano molto complesse e tanto più problematiche in ragione del carattere innovativo di tali disposizioni. In genere, le resistenze al cambiamento nei rapporti LUCA CORCHIA 11 tra le amministrazioni e i cittadini investono molteplici aspetti e provengono dall'una e dall'altra parte, facendo emergere una serie di criticità ricorrenti nei differenti contesti territoriali. La riforma amministrativa avviata nel corso degli ultimi due decenni trova origine proprio nell'esigenza di rilegittimare l'azione dei pubblici poteri a seguito della crisi del sistema dei partiti e delle politiche amministrative e, più in generale, nel ripensamento dei rapporti tra il cittadino e la pubblica amministrazione. In tale quadro si colloca la nuova diffusione di forme di informazione, ascolto, consultazione e partecipa–zione all'interno dei processi decisionali delle amministrazioni locali che incominciano a restituire gradualmente al cittadino una nuova centralità. Nel primo paragrafo sarà esaminato l'impianto normativo che regola le pubbliche amministrazioni, riformato dalle l. n. 142 e n. 241 del 1990, dal D.Lgs. 29/1993, dalle "leggi Bassanini"2 e dalla legge-quadro 150/2000, sia riguardo al diritto di accesso nei confronti dell'attività dell'amministrazione, sia in merito al radicamento di criteri di efficacia, efficienza ed economicità delle policies sia agli strumenti con cui gli Enti locali e cittadini possono comunicare. Gli anni '90 segnano l'inizio di un processo volto alla riorganizzazione delle PA a partire dalla centralità della comunicazione istituzionale ma anche della concezione del "diritto all'informazione" nelle tre accezioni di diritto "di informare, "di informarsi" e "essere informati". La Levi ha ben sottolineato "la rapidità inusuale nella storia nazionale" di tale riforma e la centralità assunta in essa dalle dimensioni dell'informazione, della comunicazione e della partecipazione: In sintesi, si può ritenere legittimo concludere che le riforme del decennio 19902000 abbiano segnato il passaggio dal segreto alla trasparenza e dall'unilateralità alla partecipazione. Le politiche di modernizzazione in tema di comunicazione pubblica e di maggiore trasparenza dell'attività dell'am-ministrazione si sono mosse verso una più marcata tutela dei diritti dei cittadini e verso l'accentuazione del risultato dell'azione amministrativa (2004, p. 16). Grandi ha ribadito che tale evoluzione costituisce nella cultura politica dello stato di diritto una «sorta di pre-condizione dell'emergere dei nuovi diritti di cittadinanza, intesi quale partecipazione consapevole e informata al processo decisionale pubblico» (Grandi 20022, 13). Nel secondo paragrafo verranno descritte gli ambiti di applicazione, 2 Le cosiddette "Leggi Bassanini", dal nome del Ministro della Funzione Pubblica dell'epoca, sono quattro: la legge 15 marzo 1997, n. 59; la legge 15 maggio 1997, n. 127; la legge 16 giugno 1998, n. 191; e legge 8 marzo 1999, n. 50. 12 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 le finalità, gli obiettivi e le strutture della comunicazione istituzionale disciplinate dalla legge n. 150/2000 e dai conseguenti regolamenti attuativi: il Portavoce, l'Ufficio stampa, l'Ufficio per le relazioni al pubblico. Come vedremo, si tratta di una normativa che rappresenta un punto di arrivo e un punto di partenza, in quanto, da un lato, se chiude il decennio delle riforme amministrative, d'altro lato, problematizza compiutamente per la prima volta il rapporto di comunicazione tra PA e cittadini e pone in evidenza tutte le difficoltà nell'implementare le norme nella realtà. Agli elementi critici della comunicazione istituzionale sono riservate le considerazioni conclusive: dal reclutamento e formazione del personale, al coordinamento delle strutture, dal persistere di mentalità burocratiche e autoreferenziale alla carenza di risorse. Il problema delle dotazioni organiche e finanziarie, in particolare, è molto sentito dalle amministrazioni di dimensioni più piccole, le quali spesso ricorrono alla "esternalizzazione" di attività degli uffici di comunicazione, non solo per la produzione editoriale, le campagne pubblicitarie e i servizi di gestione degli eventi, ma anche per il sito internet e i compiti di informazione più tradizionali. In tale situazione, la comunicazione istituzionale, pur dichiarata come strategica, rischia di rimanere un momento residuale dell'azione pubblica sia in termini di processo sia in termini di contenuto, slegata dagli obiettivi dell'organizzazione. 1. LE RIFORME DELL'AMMINISTRAZIONE LOCALE NEGLI ANNI NOVANTA Le riforme della pubblica amministrazione degli anni '90 possono essere considerate il tentativo di ricomporre, soprattutto a livello locale, un rapporto sempre più logorato tra il sistema politico-istituzionale e i cittadini. Discutendo di comunicazione pubblica non è possibile prescindere da alcune tendenze di lungo periodo che incidono sulla cultura politica delle società occidentali e che in Italia hanno prodotto degli effetti particolari in ragione delle nostre specificità nazionali. Sul versante della sfera pubblica politica, occorre rilevare come la crisi dei partiti, a lungo egemoni nella rappresentanza e nella partecipazione dei cittadini, sia coincisa con manifestazioni civiche ancora inedite nell'esperienza italiana e di cui si dovrà valutare la capacità di rigenerare un campo democratico inaridito. Dalla fine degli anni '70, si assiste a un declino della partecipazione all'interno delle tradizionali agenzie di socializzazione e rappresentanza politica, la cui stessa diffusione sul territorio gradualmente diminuisce in modo significativo. I partiti politici, ma anche le associazioni di categoria, non hanno più la precedente centralità nella mediazione sociale, raccoLUCA CORCHIA 13 gliendo le istanze della società civile e indirizzando tutti processi decisionali delle amministrazioni pubbliche. Si assiste a una sorta di "autoriferimento" delle classi dirigenti, a cui corrisponde una "ricaduta nel privato" dei cittadini, ovvero il prevalere di comportamenti orientati alla realizzazione personale nelle sfere familiari, amicali e professionali. Questa distanza produce un vuoto nello spazio pubblico sempre più spesso colmato da gruppi di interesse che perseguono obiettivi particolaristici antitetici al bilanciamento del particolare nel generale, tipico attributo della "politica". Con conseguenze negative che si fanno sentire anche sul piano amministrativo: la commistione tra interessi generali e particolaristici così come la concorrenza tra gruppi di pressione (e "clientele"), infatti, pregiudica l'agire razionale delle P.A.. L'influenza di interessi particolaristici in concorrenza tra loro produce un corto circuito sul versante dell'imput – scarsa percezione dei bisogni degli amministrati – e, sul versante dell'output – ridotta capacità di pianificazione degli propri interventi. La riforma amministrativa avviata nel corso degli ultimi due decenni trova origine proprio nell'esigenza di rilegittimare l'azione dei pubblici poteri a seguito della crisi del sistema dei partiti e delle politiche amministrative e, più in generale, nel ripensamento dei rapporti tra il cittadino e la pubblica amministrazione. In tale quadro si colloca la nuova diffusione di forme di informazione, ascolto, consultazione e partecipazione all'interno dei processi decisionali delle amministrazioni locali che incominciano a restituire gradualmente al cittadino una nuova centralità. Ed è il livello locale il terreno che viene reputato più promettente per questo processo di rinnovamento politico-amministrativo, data la prossimità fra istituzioni locali e cittadini, e la possibilità di un controllo più ravvicinato sulle decisioni. In Italia, il ruolo della comunicazione istituzionale e della partecipazione deve essere considerato a partire dall'evoluzione dei compiti degli Enti Locali. Il progressivo cambiamento del sistema amministrativo italiano verso l'autonomia, dagli anni '80 sino alla riforma del titolo V della Costituzione, la modifica delle leggi elettorali in senso maggioritario e altri fattori culturali, quali ad esempio, il revival di tematiche territoriali, l'avvento della società della comunicazione, il venire meno del tradizionale modello della supremazia dei poteri pubblici nei riguardi del "popolo", etc., hanno accresciuto notevolmente l'importanza degli Enti locali. Certo, molte resistenze neo-centralistiche hanno arrestato l'attuazione della riforma costituzionale policentrica, determinando incertezze anche nei soggetti che avrebbero dovuto svolgere alcune nuove funzioni a livello regionale e locale (De Martin 2007)3. 3 Il prof. Gian Candido De Martin, nell'Audizione svolta, l'11 dicembre 2006, presso le 14 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 1.1. Le Leggi n. 142/1990 e n. 241/1990 L'impianto normativo che regolava le pubbliche amministrazioni è stato scosso dalle fondamenta dalle riforme avviate a partire dai primi anni '90. Dalle leggi n. 142/1990 e n. 241/1990, è stato modificato il rapporto tra gli Enti Locali e i cittadini, sia riguardo al diritto di accesso nei confronti dell'attività dell'amministrazione sia in merito agli strumenti con cui gli Enti locali possono comunicare. Le politiche di modernizzazione di tale decennio hanno avviato, nel nostro ordinamento, la giuridificazione del "diritto all'informazione" nelle tre accezioni di diritto "di informare, "di informarsi" e "essere informati", in altre parole l'evoluzione dal segreto alla trasparenza e dall'unilateralità alla partecipazione. Negli anni '80, si è cercato di favorire l'adeguamento delle strutture delle amministrazioni locali alle nuove tecnologie. Tuttavia, gli strumenti adottati ebbero il limite di non avere alle spalle una strategia globale. L'agenda politica nazionale, infatti, fu monopolizzata dalla riforma del sistema radio-televisivo, a discapito dei temi relativi al procedimento e alla comunicazione amministrativa (Grandi 20022, pp. 69-93). Solamente negli Statuti delle Regioni (Rizzo 1997) e degli Enti locali (Rovinetti, Roversi 1988), vi furono alcune significative per quanto isolate iniziative di spostare l'interesse della discussione sulla partecipazione dei cittadini e sull'informazione amministrativa locale. Tale situazione si è protratta sino al termine del decennio, quando l'avvento di nuove tecnologie ha reso potenzialmente realizzabile un'informatizzazione globale degli Enti locali e il graduale raggiungimento di obiettivi riconducibili a criteri di estrazione aziendale, quali l'efficacia, l'efficienza e l'economicità. A partire dagli anni '90, il rinnovamento dell'amministrazione pubblica diviene una assoluta strategia del sistema politico-istituzionale italiano e la nuova identità della pubblica amministrazione, mano a mano, incominciò, finalmente, ad essere caratterizzata dal riconoscimento normativo e dall'attuazione organizzativa dei principi di autonomia, trasparenza, accesso, informazione e partecipazione. In occasione degli Stati generali della comunicazione pubblica tra il 6 e l'8 ottobre del 2008, Franca Faccioli e Barbara Mazza riassunsero nei seguenti termini tale trasformazione: Commissioni riunite I della Camera dei Deputati e 1a del Senato della Repubblica, ha sottolineato due aspetti problematici che riguardano il perfezionamento e l'integrazione della riforma costituzionale, da un lato, e l'effettiva e organica attuazione della riforma del Titolo V del 2001, dall'altro. LUCA CORCHIA 15 Gli anni '90 segnano, in Italia, l'inizio di un processo significativo e molto ambizioso, volto alla riorganizzazione delle pubbliche amministrazioni a partire dalla centralità assunta dalla comunicazione. Le parole chiave ruotano intorno alla visibilità e alla trasparenza, ma anche alla garanzia dei servizi al cittadino e all'ascolto. Una trasformazione culturale, prima ancora che logistica e strutturale, in cui si sviluppa – se non quando si conferma e si consolida – il perseguimento dell'interesse generale quale risultato di azioni condivise che vedono parimenti coinvolti operatori, cittadini, enti e imprese (2008, p. 1). La comunicazione fu considerata, dunque, come strategia per modificare la chiusura autoreferenziale che costituiva il freno maggiore a qualsiasi intervento innovatore. Da questa nuova consapevolezza derivarono sia provvedimenti legislativi che legittimarono la centralità della comunicazione, sia interventi e strutture organizzative che concretizzarono quanto previsto a livello normativo. Sul piano normativo, tale emergenza fu avvertita dal legislatore compiutamente sino dai primi anni del nuovo decennio. I cardini giuridici del processo di riordinamento, apportatori dei principi di trasparenza, d'accesso, di comunicazione e di partecipazione furono costituiti dalle leggi dell'8 giugno 1990, n. 142 e del 7 agosto 1990, n. 241. Roberto Grandi ha sottolineato l'importanza che le due leggi ebbero nel modificare se non la realtà almeno la concezione del rapporto tra la pubblica amministrazione e i cittadini: Se è vero che non è sufficiente promulgare nuove leggi per modificare rapporti che affondano nella tradizione della nostra amministrazione, in particolare nella sua struttura organizzativa e professionale, non si può non considerare che in questo caso l'approvazione di queste due leggi ha permesso di modificare, nel corso del decennio, il tradizionale rapporto di sudditanza dei cittadini nei confronti della pubblica amministrazione, e avviare quel processo di ripensamento dell'attività dell'amministrazione pubblica considerato come precondizione di qualsiasi iniziativa comunicativa (Grandi 20022, p. 96). L'approvazione dell'Ordinamento delle Autonomie locali impose ai Comuni e alle Provincie di dotarsi uno Statuto che prevedesse, oltre alle norme per l'organizzazione dell'ente, anche il diritto all'informazione dei cittadini e forme di accesso e partecipazione ai procedimenti amministrativi (Fiore 1992). In particolare, l'art. 6, cc. 1,2 della legge n. 142/1990, stabilì che 1. I comuni valorizzano le libere forme associative e promuovono organismi di partecipazione dei cittadini all'amministrazione locale, anche su base di quartiere o di frazione. I rapporti di tali forme associative con il comune sono 16 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 disciplinati dallo statuto. 2. Nel procedimento relativo all'adozione di atti che incidono su situazioni giuridiche soggettive devono essere previste forme di partecipazione degli interessati secondo le modalità stabilite dallo statuto. Queste forme di partecipazione dei cittadini, sia come singoli che come associati, sono precisate nei commi successivi dell'art. 6 e nell'art. 7 laddove si prevedono: a) l'accesso alle strutture, ai servizi, agli atti amministrativi e alle informazioni di cui è in possesso la PA; b) forme di consultazione della popolazione; c) le istanze, le petizioni e le proposte dirette a promuovere interventi per la migliore tutela di interessi collettivi; d) i referendum consultivi anche su richiesta di un adeguato numero di cittadini; e) la pubblicità di tutti gli atti dell'amministrazione comunale e provinciale, eccezione di quelli riservati per espressa indicazione di legge o per effetto di una temporanea e motivata dichiarazione del sindaco o del presidente della provincia; f) l'individuazione dei responsabili dei procedimenti; g) l'informazione sullo stato degli atti e delle procedure. Pur rimanendo a lungo inapplicate, a causa della lentezza con la quale i comuni e le provincie promulgarono i propri statuti, queste disposizioni tracciarono la nuova mission degli enti locali, accentuando la funzione di servizio e costituendo un rapporto a "due vie" tra cittadini e amministratori. La nuova disciplina dell'attività di comunicazione delle pubbliche amministrazioni non sarebbe stata impensabile senza il cambiamento di prospettiva introdotto dalla legge n. 241/1990 sulle Nuove norme in materia di procedimento amministrativo e di diritto di accesso ai documenti amministrativi. Per la prima volta, gli enti locali furono costretti a riconoscere che i privati non sono solo "assistiti" ma "cittadini" e in quanto tali partecipi, a pieno titolo, del processo decisionale pubblico (Associazione Italiana di Comunicazione Pubblica e Istituzionale 2004). Stabilendo l'informazione, l'accesso e la partecipazione come diritti dei cittadini, cui corrispondono obblighi per l'amministrazione pubblica, la legge ha delineato la trasparenza quale fondamento e obiettivo della comunicazione istituzionale. La trasparenza diviene una modalità di essere dell'azione amministrativa da declinare in procedure, servizi, strutture: per rendere effettivi i diritti di informazione e accesso e per corrispondere ai criteri di imparzialità e buona amministrazione, gli enti sono tenuti ad attrezzarsi e a implementare la comunicazione istituzionale come funzione amministrativa (Arena 20042, pp. 31-83). La legge n. 241/1990 introduce per la prima volta nel nostro ordinamento l'istituto della partecipazione procedimentale e ne definisce modalità di realizzazione e criteri ispiratori. In particolare stabilisce: la conformità dell'azione amministrativa ai principi di economicità, efficacia e LUCA CORCHIA 17 pubblicità (art. 1); l'obbligo di concludere il procedimento amministrativo entro un determinato tempo e tramite un provvedimento espresso (art. 2); il dovere di motivare il provvedimento (art. 3) e indicare l'unità organizzativa dell'istruttoria e il nominativo del responsabile del procedimento (artt. 4-5); l'obbligo di comunicare l'avvio del procedimento (art. 7); la possibilità di soggetti che si fanno portatori di interessi pubblici o privati e di associazioni e comitati rappresentanti di interessi diffusi di intervenire nel procedimento (art. 9); il dovere di valutare documenti presentati dai soggetti che partecipano al procedimento (art. 10); l 'istituto della "conferenza dei servizi" per acquisire da altre amministrazioni pubbliche pareri (art. 14); il diritto di accesso agli atti amministrativi (art. 22). Come ha sottolineato Gregorio Arena, la l. 241/1990 rappresenta Il punto di svolta, al tempo stesso approdo e punto di partenza per nuovi sviluppi. [...] Da allora è stato un susseguirsi di interventi che hanno introdotto nel nostro Diritto Amministrativo princìpi completamente nuovi, spesso antitetici rispetto a quelli tradizionali. [...] negli anni Novanta il concetto di trasparenza ha avuto uno sviluppo che è andato ben oltre il significato immaginato dal legislatore, quel semplice (ma pur sempre rivoluzionario) "guardar dentro" l'amministrazione consentito dal diritto d'accesso ai documenti amministrativi; essa è stata intesa come un diverso modo di essere complessivo dell'amministrazione (2005, p. 23). In particolare, se consideriamo la questione della pubblicità degli atti e dei documenti della PA, gli elementi di novità riguardano il "chi", il "cosa" e il "come". Anzitutto, la norma stabilisce che «chiunque vi abbia interesse per la tutela di situazioni giuridicamente rilevanti» può prendere visione di tali atti e documenti, attraverso una richiesta motivata. Chiunque significa sia soggetti privati che altri soggetti pubblici, ossia amministrazioni di livello paritario, inferiore o superiore. Riguardo a che "cosa", gli atti e i documenti di cui si può prendere visione, dal punto di vista del supporto tecnologico, sono «Ogni rappresentazione grafica, foto cinematografica, elettromagnetica o di qualunque altra specie», mentre, dal punto di vista dei contenuti, si tratta ogni atto e documento, anche interno, formato dalle pubbliche amministrazioni o comunque utilizzati ai fini dell'attività amministrativa, ossia a prescindere dalla loro fonte di emissione. L'esercizio del diritto di accesso – il "come" – veniva subordinato all'emanazione dei regolamenti da parte delle amministrazioni pubbliche; un processo che, come accennato, fu lento a causa delle resistenze procedurali e della scarsità di risorse, oltre alla persistenza di una diffusa "cultura clientelare" in tutta la popolazione (Rolando 1995). 18 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 1.2. L'istituzione degli Uffici per le Relazioni con il pubblico Nonostante i ritardi, non meno rilevante fu l'istituzione dell'Ufficio per le relazioni con il pubblico (URP) nelle amministrazioni pubbliche; una struttura pensata per dare attuazione alle norme sulla trasparenza, accesso, informazione e semplificazione. Previsto come un'"opportunità" dal precedente D.P.R. del 27 giugno 1992, n. 352 (Regolamento per la disciplina delle modalità di esercizio e dei casi di esclusione del diritto di accesso ai documenti amministrativi, in attuazione dell'art. 24, comma 2, della legge 7 agosto 1990, n. 241) l'Ufficio per le relazioni con il pubblico divenne "obbligatorio" con il D.Lgs. del 3 febbraio 1993, n. 29 (Razionalizzazione dell'organizzazione delle amministrazioni pubbliche e revisione della disciplina in materia di pubblico impiego, a norma dell'art. 2 della legge 23 ottobre 1992, n. 241). Come ricorda Grandi il decreto legislativo precisò i soggetti interessati, gli obiettivi da perseguire e alcuni dei modi per raggiungerli» (Grandi 20022, pp. 102-105). L'art. 1 elenca quali sono le amministrazioni pubbliche soggette all'obbligo: «tutte le amministrazioni dello Stato, ivi compresi gli istituti e scuole di ogni ordine e grado e le istituzioni educative, le aziende ed amministrazioni dello Stato ad ordinamento autonomo, le regioni, le province, i comuni, le comunità montane, e loro consorzi e associazioni, le istituzioni universitarie, gli istituti autonomi case popolari, le camere di commercio, industria, artigianato e agricoltura e loro associazioni, tutti gli enti pubblici non economici nazionali, regionali e locali, le amministrazioni, le aziende e gli enti del Servizio sanitario nazionale». Gli obiettivi sono individuati nella "economicità", speditezza" e rispondenza" dell'operato della pubblica amministrazione al perseguimento del pubblico interesse. A tal fine, l'art. 5 – poi abrogato – definisce i criteri organizzativi che le PA devono adottare: a) articolazione degli uffici per funzioni omogenee, distinguendo tra funzioni finali e funzioni strumentali o di supporto; b) collegamento dell'attività degli uffici attraverso il dovere di comunicazione interna ed esterna ed interconnessione mediante sistemici informatici e statistici pubblici nei limiti della riservatezza e della segretezza di cui all'art. 27 della legge 7 agosto 1990, n. 241; c) trasparenza, attraverso l'istituzione di apposite strutture per l'informazione ai cittadini e, per ciascuno procedimento, attribuzione ad un unico ufficio; d) armonizzazione degli orari di servizio, di apertura degli uffici e di lavoro con le esigenze dell'utenza e con gli orari delle amministrazioni pubbliche dei Paesi della Comunità europea, nonché con quelli del lavoro privato; e) responsabilità e collaborazione di tutto il personale per il risultato dell'attività lavorativa; f) flessibilità nell'organizzazione degli uffici e nella gestione delle risorse umane anche mediante processi di riconversione professionale e di mobilità del personale all'interno di ciascuna LUCA CORCHIA 19 amministrazione, nonché tra amministrazioni ed enti diversi. Come detto, lo strumento di comunicazione di cui tutte le amministrazioni pubbliche devono servirsi per attuare il principio di trasparenza e, più in generale, per "garantire la piena attuazione della legge 7 agosto 1990, n. 241", è l'URP. L'art. 12, c. 2 elenca gli obiettivi attesi dalla loro istituzione: Gli uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico provvedono, anche mediante l'utilizzo di tecnologie informatiche: a) al servizio all'utenza per i diritti di partecipazione di cui al capo III della legge 7 agosto 1990, n. 241; b) all'informazione all'utenza relativa agli atti e allo stato dei procedimenti; c) alla ricerca ed analisi finalizzate alla formulazione di proposte alla propria amministrazione sugli aspetti organizzativi e logistici del rapporto con l'utenza. Il comma successivo introduce le modalità organizzative e le risorse finanziarie ed umane per perseguire tali obiettivi: «Agli uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico viene assegnato, nell'ambito delle attuali dotazioni organiche delle singole amministrazioni, personale con idonea qualificazione e con elevata capacità di avere contatti con il pubblico, eventualmente assicurato da apposita formazione». Infine, il c. 4 solleva la necessità di programmare e attuare iniziative di comunicazione di pubblica utilità al fine di assicurare la conoscenza di normative, servizi e strutture della PA (Rosati 1996). L'Ufficio per le Relazioni con il Pubblico fu subito oggetto di disciplina con la circolare n. 17 emanata dal ministro per la Funzione pubblica il 27 aprile 1993, con cui veniva proposto un modello di URP al quale le amministrazioni pubbliche avrebbero potuto riferirsi, seppur "con gli opportuni adeguamenti". Tra le caratteristiche auspicate di tali uffici si indicavano, tra le molte, la loro centralità di collocazione e l'integrazione tra l'area comunicazione e quella di analisi e ricerca sull'utenza, in modo da potenziare tutto il sistema informativo. Fu solamente l'anno successivo che tutta l'attività degli URP venne definita dalla direttiva dell'11 ottobre 1994 del Consiglio dei ministri sui Principi per l'istituzione ed il funzionamento degli uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico, con cui si dava pieno seguito al D. Lgs. n. 29/1993 e alle successive disposizioni correttive, disciplinando i princìpi e le modalità per l'istituzione, l'organizzazione ed il funzionamento degli URP. Venivano precisate, anzitutto, le "finalità" degli uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico, stabilendo che 20 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 L'attività degli uffici è finalizzata a: dare attuazione al principio della trasparenza dell'attività amministrativa, al diritto di accesso alla documentazione e ad una corretta informazione; rilevare sistematicamente i bisogni ed il livello di soddisfazione dell'utenza per i servizi erogati e collaborare per adeguare conseguentemente i fattori che ne determinano la qualità; proporre adeguamenti e correttivi per favorire l'ammodernamento delle strutture, la semplificazione dei linguaggi l'aggiornamento delle modalità con cui le amministrazioni si propongono all'utenza. Le "attività" degli URP previste dal III capo sono conseguenti al raggiungimento di tali finalità e classificabili in quattro principali interventi: a) i "servizi" relativi ai diritti di partecipazione sanciti dalla l. n. 241/1990; b) le "informazioni" sugli atti amministrativi, sui responsabili, sullo svolgimento e sui tempi di conclusione dei procedimenti, e sulle modalità di erogazione dei servizi; c) le "indagini" finalizzate alla conoscenza dei bisogni dell'utenza e delle proposte utili per il miglioramento dei rapporti tra la pubblica amministrazione e l'utenza; d) la realizzazione di "comunicazioni di pubblica utilità" per assicurare la conoscenza delle strutture pubbliche e dei servizi erogati e dei diritti riconosciuti ai cittadini nei rapporti con le amministrazioni pubbliche. La direttiva precisava, inoltre, che gli URP devono essere, istituiti, di norma, laddove si svolge l'attività di "maggior contatto" con gli utenti – «Gli uffici rappresentano il "luogo d'incontro" fra l'utenza e le strutture pubbliche» – e che, per lo svolgimento delle proprie attività devono avvalersi di sistemi automatizzati di raccolta di immagini e documenti, di classificazione e di ricerca degli stessi, basati su stazioni di lavoro avanzate o personal computer, disponibili nei servizi di accesso polifunzionale previsti dal D. Lgs. n. 29/1993. Infine, la direttiva istituiva, presso il Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, una commissione per l'attuazione delle disposizioni normative, a cui venivano attribuite le seguenti competenze: a) la consulenza, l'assistenza tecnico-organizzativa alle amministrazioni e il coordinamento generale delle attività finalizzate alla istituzione ed al funzionamento degli uffici; b) il monitoraggio, in collaborazione con la Scuola superiore della pubblica amministrazione, sullo svolgimento delle iniziative di formazione e di aggiornamento dei personale degli uffici; c) la promozione di iniziative di comunicazione e di informazione ai cittadini-utenti; d) l'analisi e le ricerche sulla evoluzione dei bisogni dell'utenza e sulla qualità dei servizi erogati; e) il parere sul programma annuale di comunicazione di pubblica utilità (Rolla, Messeri, Grisendi 1998). Ciò che appare evidente nei propositi che ispirano la direttiva governativa è il tentativo di «qualificare gli obiettivi degli URP LUCA CORCHIA 21 come una doppia apertura nei confronti dell'esterno: si veicolano informazioni ai cittadini-utenti, ma si veicolano anche informazioni dai cittadini-utenti all'interno della struttura, che si trova quindi nella necessità di modificare la propria identità fino ad allora non-comunicante e auto-referenziale» (Grandi 20022, pp. 105). Una norma specifica concerneva il personale della pubblica amministrazione a cui si richiedeva un'alta competenza in relazione alle conoscenze dell'organizzazione di appartenenza, all'accoglienza del pubblico e all'utilizzo di tutti i sistemi tecnologici attraverso i quali vengono veicolate le informazioni e comunicazioni. La direttiva delle finalità, delle attività e dell'organizzazione degli URP fu integrata dalla circolare del Ministro della Funzione Pubblica del 21 aprile 1995, n. 14 (Direttiva alle Amministrazioni pubbliche in materia di formazione del personale), con cui fu inclusa la formazione del personale dell'URP tra gli interventi prioritari, e dal Decreto legge del 12 maggio 1995, n 163, in riferimento al ruolo e alle funzioni del responsabile dell'Ufficio e del personale da lui indicato. Il proposito del governo era di passare – gradatamente – da un sistema di formazione caratterizzato dalla settorialità e occasionalità degli interventi a una formazione sistematica, organica e tecnicamente corretta in modo da favorire continuamente la crescita delle professionalità nella pubblica amministrazione. La formazione viene così assunta come "elemento essenziale" per una equilibrata gestione del personale in servizio, al pari della verifica delle dotazioni organiche, delle conseguenti iniziative di reclutamento e di mobilità e dell'introduzione di sistemi valutativi e premianti. Compatibilmente con le politiche di bilancio, si richiede investimenti nella formazione come fattore determinate nel a) coadiuvare l'amministrazione verso una prospettiva di orientamento al servizio; b) sollecitare la realizzazione di una gestione per progetti con obiettivi predeterminati; c) favorire l'interazione culturale e progettuale con il sistema privato, dando vita a momenti formativi e di aggiornamento manageriale comuni; d) mettere l'amministrazione in condizione di poter sostenere il confronto con le altre realtà pubbliche dell'Unione europea. In particolare, la formazione del personale deve privilegiare gli "obiettivi di operatività" da conseguire nei seguenti campi: a) capacità dei dipendenti pubblici di operare in realtà amministrative informatizzate; b) analisi delle procedure e dell'organizzazione, basata anche sulle conoscenze quali-quantitative degli aggregati, con l'introduzione della cultura del dato statistico; c) sviluppo di profili di managerialità capace di pro22 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 gettare le attività, valutare comparativamente i risultati di gestione e analizzare i costi ed i rendimenti; d) formazione della dirigenza per sostenere l'impatto con le rappresentanze sindacali in sede di contrattazione decentrata; e) favorire la diffusione dell'apprendimento delle lingue straniere e, infine, f), formazione del personale da adibire agli uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico. Rispetto agli Uffici per le Relazioni con il pubblico, l'obiettivo dichiarato è quello di «poter disporre di dirigenti e funzionari in grado di avviare, far funzionare e gestire gli uffici, di relazionarsi con l'utenza fornendo informazioni complete, tali da rendere un servizio utile e di snellimento delle procedure, e che sappiano, altresì, trasmettere il messaggio di un'amministrazione impegnata a rinnovarsi sul fronte della qualità dei servizi e del rapporto con l'utenza». Lo sviluppo degli URP ha coinvolto un numero crescente di amministratori, comunicatori e studiosi accomunati dal desiderio di mettere in rete la conoscenza dei problemi e le possibili soluzioni. Da loro incontro è nata una "comunità di professionisti che il Dipartimento della Funzione pubblica, in collaborazione con la Regione Emilia-Romagna, ha saputo consolidare attraverso l'URP degli URP. L'iniziativa, nata nel 1998, ha come obiettivi quelli di a) diffondere informazioni, consulenze, strumenti di lavoro e di comunicazione; b) favorire l'attivazione degli URP non ancora istituiti; c) realizzare una rete di scambio degli operatori della comunicazione delle istituzioni pubbliche; d) diffondere la collaborazione reciproca. 1.3. I principi di erogazione dei servizi pubblici e la Carta dei servizi Un momento importante della riforma della Pubblica Amministrazione è rappresentata dalla direttiva del Presidente del Consiglio dei Ministri del 27 gennaio 1994 sui Principi per l'erogazione dei servizi pubblici, con cui, a tutela delle esigenze dei cittadini, fu introdotto lo strumento della "Carta dei servizi" (Vesperini, Battini 1997, Marconi 1998, Mussari 1999, Pasini 1999, Ruffini 1999). I servizi pubblici interessati alla normativa erano quelli che erogavano servizi riferiti ai «diritti della persona, costituzionalmente tutelati, alla salute, all'assistenza e previdenza sociale, all'istruzione, alla libertà di comunicazione e alla sicurezza». I princìpi cui deve essere "progressivamente" uniformata l'erogazione dei servizi pubblici, anche se svolti da soggetti non pubblici in regime di concessione o in convenzione, erano quelli di a) "eguaglianza", b) "imparzialità", c) "continuità", d) "diritto di scelta", e) "partecipazione" ed f) "efficienza ed efficacia". LUCA CORCHIA 23 "Eguaglianza" significa che le regole relative all'accesso ai servizi e ai rapporti tra gli utenti e i soggetti erogatori dei servizi pubblici devono essere uguali per tutti. Il principio di parità di trattamento – "a parità di condizioni del servizio prestato", deve impedire ogni forma di discriminazione compiuta per motivi riguardanti il sesso, la razza, la lingua, la religione, le opinioni politiche, ma anche la collocazione geografica degli utenti, pur non essendo agevolmente raggiungibili. Non è altresì in contraddizione con il principio di eguaglianza l'affermazione che la qualità non discriminatoria del servizio pubblico necessiti modalità di prestazione diseguali adeguate alle esigenze dei portatori di handicap. L'"imparzialità" richiama l'obbligo da parte dei soggetti erogatori di ispirare i propri comportamenti, nei confronti degli utenti, a criteri di obiettività e giustizia. Nell'ambito delle modalità stabilite dalla normativa di settore, la "continuità" del servizio deve assicurare la regolarità dell'erogazione. I casi di funzionamento irregolare o di interruzione del servizio sono anch'essi espressamente disciplinati e, in ogni caso, devono verificarsi arrecando agli utenti il minor disagio possibile. Il "diritto di scelta" riguarda i servizi distribuiti sul territorio per i quali, se consentito dalla legislazione, l'utente può optare tra i diversi soggetti erogatori. Il principio di "partecipazione" dell'utente al servizio pubblico è volto a favorire la collaborazione tra le parti e migliorare l'erogazione della prestazione. A tal fine l'utente ha diritto di accesso alle informazioni in possesso del soggetto erogatore che lo riguardano (cfr. l. n. 241/1990) e può produrre memorie e documenti, prospettare osservazioni e formulare suggerimenti al soggetto erogatore, il quale devono dare immediato riscontro circa le segnalazioni e proposte e rilevare periodicamente la valutazione dell'utente sulla qualità del servizio reso (Grandinetti, Guerra 2002). L'"efficienza" e l'"efficacia" del servizio riguardano l'adozione di tutte le misure organizzative, gestionali e comunicative idonee al raggiungimento degli obiettivi. Con la direttiva si stabiliva che, al fine di rendere effettivi tali principi, gli uffici della PA dovevano adottare standard di qualità e quantità nell'erogazione del servizio, procedere alla semplificazione e informatizzazione delle proprie procedure, assicurare la piena informazione degli utenti circa le modalità di prestazione, il rispetto e la cortesia nelle relazioni con gli utenti e valutare la qualità del servizio reso, specie in relazione al raggiungimento degli obiettivi di pubblico interesse, i attraverso delle apposite verifiche sulla qualità e l'efficacia dei servizi prestati. Infine, la direttiva prevedeva le procedure di reclamo, l'istituzione di 24 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 un Ufficio di controllo interno e un Comitato permanente per l'attuazione della Carta dei servizi pubblici istituito presso la Presidenza del Consiglio dei Ministri. In obbligo all'impegno di adottare tutte le misure legislative, regolamentari ed amministrative necessarie a dare piena effettività ai princìpi contenuti nella direttiva del 27 gennaio 1994, il governo ha emanato una serie di provvedimenti, tra i quali, anzitutto, il D.L. n. 163 del 12 maggio 1995 (Misure urgenti per la semplificazione dei procedimenti amministrativi e per miglioramento dell'efficienza delle pubbliche amministrazioni; convertito in legge, con modificazioni, dalla legge n. 273 dell'11 luglio 1995), con cui invitava il Dipartimento della Funzione pubblica a predisporre degli "schemi generali di riferimento di carte dei servizi pubblici" e definiva i tempi entro i quali gli enti erogatori di servizio pubblico avrebbero dovuto adottare le carte di servizio. A meno di due anni da tale disposizione, vista la diffusione di Carte dei servizi nei settori sanitari, scolastici, elettrici, del gas, etc., il suddetto Comitato pubblicò, nel gennaio del 1997, il testo Criteri per la valutazione degli schemi generali di riferimento predisposti ai sensi dell'art. 2 della legge 1 luglio 1995, n. 273. Alla luce delle attività di controllo svolte in tale periodo, il Comitato precisò le "caratteristiche comunicative" che gli schemi di riferimento avrebbero dovuto contenere rispetto ai "principi fondamentali", alla "struttura-tipo delle Carte", agli "indicatori di qualità comparabili (ed eventuali standard minimi)", alle "procedure di reclamo", alle "modalità di ristoro e rimborso", "modalità di pubblicizzazione delle Carte" e "modalità di monitoraggio dell'attuazione" di tutte le fasi previste dalla normativa. Tale disciplina è stata in seguito modificata dall'art. 11, c. 2 del D. Lgs. n. 286 del 30 luglio 1999 laddove si stabilisce che Le modalità di definizione, adozione e pubblicizzazione degli standard di qualità, i casi e le modalità di adozione delle carte dei servizi, i criteri di misurazione della qualità dei servizi, le condizioni di tutela degli utenti, nonché i casi e le modalità di indennizzo automatico e forfettario all'utenza per mancato rispetto degli standard di qualità sono stabilite con direttive, aggiornabili annualmente, del Presidente del Consiglio dei Ministri. Per quanto riguarda i servizi erogati direttamente o indirettamente dalle regioni e dagli enti locali, si provvede con atti di indirizzo e coordinamento adottati d'intesa con la conferenza unificata di cui al decreto legislativo 28 agosto 1997, n. 281. Rispetto all'effettività di tali disposizioni, possiamo considerare che la Carta dei servizi è, ad oggi, l'unico strumento codificato dal quadro normativo ed uno di quelli su cui si è investito maggiormente nell'ambito delle politiche tese a migliorare la qualità nel settore dei servizi pubblici. LUCA CORCHIA 25 Le Carte censite in Italia sono oramai decine di migliaia in tutti i settori della pubblica amministrazione. E tuttavia la loro diffusione non sembra corrispondere, da un lato, una adeguata conoscenza da parte dell'utenza, che spesso ne ignora l'esistenza, d'altro lato, un reale impatto positivo sulla qualità complessiva delle amministrazione interessate. Inoltre, una volta prodotte, molte Carte non vengono più aggiornate, diventando obsolete e inutilizzabili. In definitiva, per quanto l'elaborazione di una Carta dei servizi implichi uno sforzo di apertura all'esterno e di impegno da parte delle PA, essa richiederebbe una maggiore responsabilizzazione nel loro operato effettivo. 1.4. Le c.d. "Leggi Bassanini" Tra il 1997 e il 1999 vennero promulgate le cosiddette "Leggi Bassanini" che conferirono nuovi poteri e una maggiore autonomia alle amministrazioni locali, ponendo, altresì, in atto una serie di interventi di semplificazione e trasparenza al fine di rinnovare le procedure del rapporto tra le istituzioni pubbliche e i cittadini (Attanasio, Candidi, De Pascale, Paris 1997). La legge del 15 marzo 1997, n. 59 (Delega al Governo per il conferimento di funzioni e compiti alle Regioni ed enti locali; per la riforma della Pubblica Amministrazione e per la semplificazione amministrativa) ridistribuì a più livelli istituzionali il compito di razionalizzare il funzionamento dell'amministrazione. Originata da spinte all'armonizzazione ed unificazione amministrativa degli apparati dei diversi Paesi membri dell'Unione europea, la normativa introduce il criterio del decentramento. Infatti, entro nove mesi dall'entrata in vigore della legge delega il governo aveva il compito di definire con precisione, a "Costituzione invariata", i compiti e le funzioni svolti direttamente dallo Stato e quelli che invece spettavano a Regioni ed enti locali, realizzando quello che è stato definito il "terzo decentramento" (dopo quelli del 1970-72 e del 1975-77). Oltre al "federalismo amministrativo", la legge imponeva il principio della semplificazione delle procedure amministrative e dei vincoli burocratici alle attività private. Infine, nel disegno di riforma della PA l'utilizzo intensivo delle nuove tecnologie assunse un valore strategico, in vista di un passaggio da una amministrazione basata su relazioni personali e documenti cartacei ad una tele-amministrazione basata su relazioni telematiche e documenti informatici. Le nuove tecnologie rappresentarono i mattoni su cui costruire il nuovo edificio dell'amministrazione pubblica. La legge del 15 maggio 1997, n. 127 (Misure urgenti per lo snellimento dell'attività amministrativa e dei procedimenti di decisione e di 26 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 controllo) rafforzò le richieste di semplificazione delle procedure e, distinguendo tra gestione e controllo, assicurò alle amministrazioni locali maggiori poteri decisionali e almeno le condizioni giuridiche per una maggiore autonomia dal sistema politico. Il criterio che viene ribadito è quello della responsabilità, con ciò riempiendo ulteriormente di contenuti il D. Lgs 29/1993, che prevede la netta separazione delle funzioni tra ruolo di indirizzo e verifica e funzione di gestione: la prima compete alla componente elettiva, mentre la seconda alla struttura burocratica. Il rilievo del processo di comunicazione è confermata nella disciplina dei tempi delle risposte amministrative, sempre meno discrezionali e sempre più codificate, delle procedure, in modo da renderle più comprensibili, snelle ed efficaci, e nel ruolo dell'URP, la cui istituzione viene considerata il primo tentativo sistematico di creare anche in Italia un rapporto permanente tra i cittadini e le istituzioni (Stipo 1998). Per raggiungere gli obiettivi di semplificazione, il D.Lgs. del 31 marzo 1998, n. 112 aveva previsto che gli Enti locali ispirino la propria organizzazione a criteri di imparzialità e trasparenza attraverso l'istituzione di apposite strutture destinate all'informazione ai cittadini e l'attribuzione ad un unico ufficio, per ciascun procedimento, della responsabilità complessiva dello stesso. Come vedremo, tale normativa è stata successivamente "trasfusa" nel D.Lgs. 165/2001. La legge del 16 giugno 1998, n. 191 (Modifiche ed integrazioni alle leggi 15 marzo 1997, n. 59, e 15 maggio 1997, n. 127, nonché norme in materia di formazione del personale dipendente e di lavoro a distanza nelle pubbliche amministrazioni) ha proposto che gli indirizzi della formazione rispondano a tre finalità, così sintetizzate da Stefano Sepe: – selezionare in modo più efficace e razionale, nella fase di accesso, il personale pubblico, affinando la capacità di scegliere i migliori, ma soprattutto quelli più adatti a svolgere determinate funzioni pubbliche [...]; – preparare in modo più mirato (collegato cioè, agli obiettivi delle organizzazioni pubbliche) il personale in servizio [...]; – motivare il personale attraverso due leve fondamentali: renderlo partecipe, il più possibile, dell'azione della riforma (coinvolgere) e chiarire la logica delle riforme (convincere) (Sepe 2000, p. 204). Infine, la legge dell'8 marzo 1999, n. 50 (Delegificazione e testi unici di norme concernenti procedimenti amministrativi. Legge di semplificazione 1998), oltre a sistematizzare gli interventi di riforma, avviarono il passaggio delle amministrazioni pubbliche da enti di gestione ad "apparati di regolazione" per finalità collettive. Questa legge rappresentò il primo tentativo di riforma organica della LUCA CORCHIA 27 Presidenza del Consiglio, della struttura del Consiglio dei ministri e dell'ordinamento dei ministeri, muovendo in tre diverse direzioni: 1) la riduzione degli apparati ministeriali: i ministeri sono divenuti dodici; il personale è stato raggruppato in un ruolo unico, in modo da assicurarne la mobilità; si è sancito il principio della flessibilità nell'organizzazione, stabilendo – salvo che per quanto attiene al numero, alla denominazione, alle funzioni dei ministeri e al numero delle unità di comando – una ampia delegificazione in materia; 2) in un'ottica policentrista, sono state istituite dodici Agenzie indipendenti con funzioni tecnico-operative che richiedono particolari professionalità e conoscenze specialistiche, nonché specifiche modalità di organizzazione del lavoro; 3) si è provveduto alla concentrazione degli uffici periferici dell'amministrazione statale con la creazione degli Uffici Territoriali del Governo che hanno assorbito le Prefetture. Contemporaneamente, il Dipartimento della Funzione pubblica, nel gennaio 1999, aveva attivato nell'ambito del Programma dei progetti finalizzati all'attuazione della riforma amministrativa, il progetto "Semplifichiamo", finalizzato a superare gli ostacoli e le resistenze del processo innovativo, coinvolgendo direttamente come coautori tutti gli attori istituzionali interessati: dalle associazioni degli enti locali a quelle dei cittadini, dagli istituti di formazione al mondo imprenditoriale. Furono realizzate attività di monitoraggio e analisi sui risultati ottenuti e sulle difficoltà incontrate dalle amministrazioni, dai cittadini e dalle imprese. Per quanto riguarda le amministrazioni pubbliche si offrirono servizi di documentazione e di supporto, manuali d'istruzione per l'uso e modelli di formazione, materiali a disposizione su internet, raccolte di casi e soluzioni di semplificazione, informazione e consulenza personalizzata, rilevazioni a campione sulla riduzione dei certificati prodotti dalle anagrafi comunali e indagini sul livello d'informazione dei cittadini e la consapevolezza dei propri diritti. Il corso rinnovatore fu però molto lento. Di tale riforma la comunicazione costituisce una parte significativa. Come sostiene l'Associazione Italiana della Comunicazione Pubblica e Istituzionale4, un "ponte ideale" unisce le leggi approvate nel decennio degli anni '90: le due leggi del 1990, il D.Lgs n. 29/1993 con gli URP e la distinzione fra la politica e l'amministrazione e le leggi "Bassanini". Ciononostante, solo la legge del 7 giugno 2000, n. 150 (Disciplina delle attività di informazione e di comunicazione delle pubbliche amministrazioni) ha 4 L'Associazione Italiana della Comunicazione Pubblica e Istituzionale è stata costituita a Roma nel 1990 al fine di trovare e assicurare alla società risposte concrete e di servizio a bisogni formativi esterni ed interni all'amministrazione pubblica, mantenendo relazioni costanti tra le istituzioni e tutti gli ambiti sociali in cui si forma e cresce la domanda di comunicazioni pubblica. 28 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 dettato, finalmente, una disciplina organica delle attività di informazione e comunicazione delle pubbliche amministrazioni. 2. LA LEGGE N. 150 DEL 7 GIUGNO 2000 E GLI SVILUPPI NORMATIVI La legge 150/2000 ha impresso una forte accelerazione ai processi di comunicazione istituzionale nelle Pubbliche Amministrazioni italiane offrendo una nuova opportunità per modificare il rapporto tra Amministrazioni e cittadini: La legge 150, che chiude il decennio delle riforme amministrative, rappresenta, al tempo stesso, un punto di arrivo e un punto di partenza. Punto di arrivo, perché disciplinare con legge le attività di informazione e di comunicazione delle Pubbliche Amministrazioni vuol dire riconoscere che se fra Amministrazioni e cittadini non c'è comunicazione questi ultimi non sono realmente tali. Nella società dell'informazione, se le Pubbliche Amministrazioni non comunicano (che è cosa diversa dal semplice informare) i cittadini non possono essere sovrani, al massimo possono essere utenti o clienti. La legge 150 è anche un punto di partenza perché da essa bisogna muovere per spostare ancora più avanti i confini della cittadinanza amministrativa. Come già negli anni passati, anche in questo nuovo secolo la qualità del rapporto fra cittadini e Amministrazioni è misurata dalla qualità della comunicazione di interesse generale, svolta da soggetti pubblici o da soggetti privati in base al principio di sussidiarietà (Associazione Italiana della Comunicazione Pubblica e Istituzionale, 2008, p. 1). Con la legge 150/2000 le Pubbliche Amministrazioni dispongono di una disciplina per sviluppare le loro relazioni con i cittadini, potenziare e armonizzare le relazioni al loro interno e concorrere ad affermare il diritto dei cittadini ad un'efficace informazione. La comunicazione istituzionale, infatti, cessa di essere un segmento aggiuntivo e residuale e diviene parte integrante del loro operato (Grandi 20022, pp. 157-169. Questa considerazione è stata ribadita anche da Adriana Laudani nel Rapporto al Ministro per la Funzione Pubblica. Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), redatto nel corso del 2005 dall'Università IULM di Milano: «Con l'approvazione della legge 150/2000 e l'impegno connesso alla sua applicazione è cresciuta, all'interno dell'apparato pubblico del nostro paese, la consapevolezza del nesso che lega la comunicazione al processo di attuazione della riforma istituzionale ed amministrativa, nonché a quelli di innovazione e di ammodernamento delle organizzazioni pubbliche» (Laudani 2005, p. 64). L'obiettivo complessivo della riforma è il potenziamento della relazionalità, destinata a rendere i cittadini partecipi nella definizione delle politiche pubbliche. LUCA CORCHIA 29 Certo, al momento, l'Italia è ancora lontana dal raggiungimento di questo livello evolutivo della pubblica amministrazione; tuttavia, il progetto non è utopistico. Va considerato, inoltre, che l'approvazione della legge interviene all'interno di quella che potremmo definire la seconda fase della riforma: di seguito alle cd. "Leggi Bassanini" (leggi 59/1997 e 127/1997) e delle successive norme attuative (decreti legislativi 80/1998 e 112/1998) e, quindi, nel corso del lungo processo di formazione legislativa che condurrà alla modifica del titolo V della Costituzione. L'art. 118 della l. costituzionale del 18 ottobre 2001, n. 3 riconosce ai cittadini la titolarità di una nuova libertà, quella "libertà solidale" che consiste nel prendersi cura dei beni comuni sulla base del principio di sussidiarietà orizzontale. Il modello di governance auspicato è basato sul principio del coinvolgimento per cui diversi attori istituzionali e cittadini concorrono alla valorizzazione di tutte le risorse possibili finalizzata al miglioramento dei risultati e del consenso pubblico. Inoltre, tale riforma indica l'esigenza che le Regioni e gli Enti locali assumano la comunicazione istituzionale quale risorsa per la crescita e la promozione del territorio e per l'ammodernamento dell'apparato pubblico. Il dispiegamento delle potenzialità connesse all'attuazione del principio di sussidiarietà, nella duplice dimensione orizzontale e verticale, viene, infatti, in larga misura affidato alla crescita di un sistema informativo e comunicativo coordinato che, dando visibilità alle risorse istituzionali e sociali presenti sul territorio, promuova un sistema a rete in grado di sostenere processi di reciproca integrazione e di cooperazione (Falcon 2001, Caringella, Giuncato, Romano 2007). 2.1. Ambiti di applicazione e finalità Nell'art. 1, c. 4 dei Principi generali, viene indicato l'Ambito di applicazione: a. l'attività di informazione ai mezzi di comunicazione di massa, attraverso stampa audiovisiva e strumenti telematici; b. la comunicazione esterna rivolta ai cittadini, alle collettività e ad altri enti attraverso ogni modalità tecnica ed organizzativa; c. la comunicazione interna realizzata nell'ambito di ciascun ente. Questa partizione tra ambiti di applicazione, come vedremo, è oramai consolidata nella letteratura prevalente in materia di comunicazione istituzionale (Mancini 2000, Razzante 2000). Nella presente lezione sarà presa in considerazione, soprattutto, la comunicazione esterna, ovvero quella tra pubblica amministrazione e cittadini, anche se alcune considerazioni sui rapporti comunicativi con i mezzi di comunicazione di massa 30 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 e su quelli interni all'organizzazione consentono di comprenderne meglio le Finalità della legge 150/2000, indicate dal comma 5 dell'art. 1: a. illustrare e favorire la conoscenza delle disposizioni normative, al fine di facilitarne l'applicazione; b. illustrare le attività delle istituzioni e il loro funzionamento; c. favorire l'accesso ai servizi pubblici, promuovendone la conoscenza; d. promuovere conoscenze allargate e approfondite su temi di rilevante interesse pubblico e sociale; e. favorire processi interni di semplificazione delle procedure e di modernizzazione degli apparati nonché la conoscenza dell'avvio e del percorso dei procedimenti amministrativi; f. promuovere l'immagine delle amministrazioni, nonché quella dell'Italia, in Europa e nel mondo, conferendo conoscenza e visibilità ad eventi d'importanza locale, regionale, nazionale ed internazionale5. Prima di esaminarle è opportuno precisare la differenza tra le "finalità" e gli obiettivi": le finalità rappresentano la ragion d'essere di una organizzazione, il perché esiste sia in riferimento al tempo presente, coincidendo in questo caso con la mission, sia in riferimento ad un futuro possibile, coincidendo in questo caso con la vision. Gli obiettivi rappresentano invece la traduzione delle finalità in scelte concrete ed attuabili in grado di perseguire e inverare quelle finalità (Levi 2006, p. 40). La comunicazione istituzionale dell'amministrazione pubblica deve, in primo luogo, favorire la conoscenza delle proprie e altrui disposizioni normative. La pubblicazione degli atti ufficiali degli Enti locali, delle deliberazioni, delle determine dirigenziali e di ogni altro provvedimento all'Albo Pretorio assolve non solo a un obbligo e a una funzione giuridicamente rilevante, ma esige da parte delle amministrazioni altre forme di comunicazione idonee ad assicurare la più ampia conoscenza degli atti predetti e delle attività dalle medesime svolte (Arena 1999, p. 19). Grandi sostiene che la comunicazione normativa rappresenta «la base della comunicazione pubblica, in quanto la conoscenza e la comprensione delle leggi è la pre-condizione di ogni possibile relazione consapevole tra enti pubblici e cittadini» (20022, p. 58). La comunicazione istituzionale deve, in secondo luogo, illustrare la 5 L'elenco delle finalità disposta dalla norma corrisponde alle classificazione delle aree della comunicazione istituzionale operata da Stefano Rolando, la quale è a sua volta frutto di un accorpamento dei diciotto tipi di comunicazione istituzionale, da lui redatto in precedenza, in funzione dei segmenti dei destinatari, dei contenuti, dei mezzi utilizzati, delle dimensioni economiche, della durata del tempo, dell'estensione dello spazio. Cfr. S. Rolando (1978, 1990). LUCA CORCHIA 31 tipologia dei servizi e il funzionamento delle attività dell'amministrazione pubblica. Questa "comunicazione di servizio" è volta, dunque, a informare i pubblici di riferimento sulle modalità di funzionamento degli uffici e sulle prestazioni offerte. Roberto Grandi precisa il carattere duplice del servizio di comunicazione: Il carattere di servizio di questa informazione si presenta sotto due punti di vista: si tratta di informazioni che di per sé costituiscono già un servizio agli utenti e sono, contemporaneamente, parte integrante del servizio offerto dall'amministrazione. Nel primo caso si può ricordare che al giorno d'oggi è un dovere di un'amministrazione fornire agli utenti informazioni, le più chiare e comprensibili possibili, sulle regole riguardanti la propria attività. [...] Nel secondo caso – di comunicazioni quale parte integrante del servizio offerto dall'amministrazione – si deve sottolineare come si tratti di comunicazioni che incidono sulla qualità del servizio stesso, condizionandone le modalità di utilizzazione e la percezione del servizio ottenuto da parte degli interessati (Ivi, pp. 59-60). Emerge, qui, una fondamentale finalità della comunicazione pubblica, su cui Franca Faccioli ha dedicato approfonditi studi, ovvero la promozione dell'accesso degli utenti all'erogazione dei servizi della pubblica amministrazione (2000). La comunicazione istituzionale deve, poi, dare elementi di conoscenza e consapevolezza all'opinione pubblica in merito a problemi di interesse collettivo, quali la tutela ambientale, l'istruzione, il lavoro, la povertà, la sanità, la previdenza, etc. anche nella prospettiva di convincere i cittadini a modificare i comportamenti: «Si tratta di problemi di sistema, in quanto riguardano il sistema nel suo complesso e non sono risolvibili se non attraverso lo sforzo congiunto di più soggetti» (Grandi 20022, p. 60). Come mette in risalto Gregoriano Arena, questa finalità Non serve per regolare rapporti giuridici o per informare circa un fatto della vita quotidiana, ma per risolvere un problema di interesse generale. [...] l'amministrazione non si rivolge ad utenti né a clienti, ma a cittadini, a soggetti che in quanto membri di una comunità sono anche titolari di diritti e doveri, fra cui quello di contribuire, nei limiti delle proprie possibilità, alla soluzione di problemi di interesse generale (Arena 1999, p. 21). La definizione delle politiche pubbliche si colloca, solitamente, nella fase che segue le decisioni e che precede la valutazione del loro impatto sociale. Tuttavia la comunicazione istituzionale, dovrebbe produrre degli effetti su tutte le fasi che contraddistinguono il ciclo di vita di una amministrazione pubblica, la quale è sempre sollecitata a rendere il proprio modus operandi più razionale e inclusivo. La comunicazione non è solo il 32 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 "dare la notizia" di quel processo decisionale, ma è parte integrante del processo decisionale, per cui le procedure amministrative sono strettamente connesse al feed back dei suoi dipendenti e dei cittadini interessati. Una finalità dei processi comunicativi, infatti, è quella di mettere in relazione, in maniera strutturata, l'organizzazione e i suoi pubblici di riferimento interni ed esterni, al fine di aumentare l'efficienza e l'efficacia delle proprie politiche. La comunicazione istituzionale richiede per il corretto svolgimento delle azioni previste che siano coinvolte attivamente, con funzioni diverse, molte risorse strumentali e umane presenti nell'amministrazione pubblica. In particolare, il miglioramento delle competenze degli attori, delle procedure operative e delle interazioni è al contempo un presupposto e un risultato dell'organizzazione, la quale si prefigge la semplificazione e modernizzazione degli apparati. In tal senso, la comunicazione istituzionale contribuisce a cambiarne il modo di lavorare della pubblica amministrazione sollecitando il confronto all'esterno e all'interno. La convergenza delle logiche della comunicazione interna e delle strategie della comunicazione esterna, infatti, è un fattore basilare della comunicazione integrata, un collante fra le componenti dell'amministrazione e tra questa e i pubblici esterni. Consideriamo in particolare la cosiddetta "comunicazione interna". È chiaro che si tratta di una funzione di grande potenzialità innovativa, anche se stenta ad affermarsi negli Enti locali come un modo diverso di essere e fare amministrazione regolata dai principi di partecipazione, circolarità dell'informazione e trasparenza. Come ha sottolineato Maria Virginia Rizzo, la comunicazione interna ha come finalità quella di esplicitare e fare condividere i valori e le metodologie di lavoro. Da un lato, tramite l'informazione sulla mission e sulle strategie organizzative, i dipendenti dell'amministrazione dovrebbero essere nelle condizioni di conoscerne i programmi e individuare il senso del loro ruolo e del loro lavoro. D'altro lato, attraverso la trasmissione costante di conoscenza, la comunicazione interna genera forme di apprendimento sia negli individui che nell'organizzazione. La comunicazione istituzionale possiede, complessivamente, per le pubbliche amministrazioni una dimensione strategica in quanto consente di ordinare, sviluppare e impiegare risorse di tipo diverso, umane, strumentali, economiche, per conseguire con la massima probabilità determinati obiettivi comunicativi. Ma solo con il passaggio da un sistema verticistico e unidirezionale a un sistema orizzontale e relazionale è possibile far convergere verso un obiettivo comune tutte le articolazioni dell'organizzazione amministrativa coinvolte, assicurando altresì l'identità dell'istituzione nella realizzazione degli interventi: «Con LUCA CORCHIA 33 tali premesse la comunicazione interna intesa come messa in comune di esperienze, valori, responsabilità, come creazione di identità e di condivisione dei processi organizzativi, diventa motore dello sviluppo e quindi leva organizzativa strategica per la realizzazione del piano di comunicazione dell'istituzione» (Rizzo 2004, pp. 113-114). Giuseppe Nucci aveva già espresso questa concezione dell'amministrazione pubblica come rete comunicativa integrata e articolata tra i suoi nodi funzionali rimarcandone l'importanza ai fini di creare identità e senso di appartenenza, generare una cultura dell'istituzione, sviluppare le risorse umane, ridurre i costi di transazione, razionalizzare l'ordinario e gestire processi di trasformazione6. Nel definire la propria strategia di comunicazione interna, l'amministrazione pubblica deve individuare quali sono i suoi "pubblici" (segmentando il personale secondo diversi criteri: per ruolo, funzioni, competenze, anzianità, genere, etc.); definire le strategie (informazione per guidare, informazione per motivare il personale, comunicazione per cambiare l'organizzazione), le linee di relazione (top-down communication, upward communication, comunicazione orizzontale e comunicazione trasversale) e i molteplici strumenti adeguati agli scopi prefissati. Su questi temi si possono consultare molte pubblicazioni tra cui il recente volume Comunicare dentro l'amministrazione (2010), frutto dell'attività del Tavolo di lavoro realizzato da URPdegliURP con l'intento di avviare un confronto sul tema della comunicazione interna. In particolare, sono delineate le fasi, la conoscenza di processi, ruoli e funzioni, l'adattamento ai climi organizzativi, il saper cogliere le opportunità e controllare i rischi, ma anche l'occuparsi di aspetti che preparano il processo di comunicazione all'interno di un'Amministrazione (Gramigna, Stecca 2010). Una finalità della comunicazione istituzionale, infine, è di promuovere una immagine esterna ed interna dell'amministrazione pubblica che sia coerente con i valori dell'organizzazione, e dunque, rappresenti ciò che essa è ed intende fare. La comunicazione istituzionale deve essere così sensibile da rilevare tempestivamente quegli eventi che negativi che hanno una forte ripercussione sui mezzi di comunicazione di massa, ossia gli avvenimenti che 6 G. Nucci, La comunicazione interna nella pubblica amministrazione, in S. Rolando (a cura di), Teoria e tecniche della comunicazione pubblica, Milano, ETAS, 2001, p. 161. Giuseppe Nucci ha curato anche l'analisi dei dati relativi alla comunicazione interna raccolti nell'ottava sezione del questionario somministrato al campione di amministrazioni del Rapporto al Ministro per la Funzione Pubblica. Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), a cura di Stefano Rolando dello IULM. 34 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 possono determinare una cosiddetta "crisis management" che ha ripercussioni sull'intera amministrazione. In tale situazione di crisi sistemica, gli interventi comunicativi, attraverso una centralizzazione delle informazioni verso l'interno e verso l'esterno devono supportare la gestione della crisi recuperando l'immagine dell'organizzazione. Come sottolinea Luigi Norsa, è preferibile accettare e coinvolgere il pubblico, mostrare franchezza, collaborare con altre fonti credibili, ammettere i propri errori, puntare ad una corretta gestione del rapporto con i media, identificare e mobilizzare potenziali alleati, informare tutti gli interlocutori, interni ed esterni (2002, 2009). E tuttavia, occorre ricordare che l'organizzazione può riuscire al massimo a controllare ciò che essa comunica di sé stessa ma non l'immagine che diffondono i mezzi di comunicazione di massa, così come quel passaparola più o meno diffuso. Rispetto a tali comunicazioni negative eteroprodotte si possono solo attivare alcune leve di influenza attraverso l'ufficio stampa, il delegato alla relazione con i media, etc. anche se non potrà contare di eliminarle o controllarle completamente. 2.2. Le strutture: il Portavoce, l'Ufficio stampa e l'URP Oltre alle disposizioni relative ai Messaggi di utilità sociale e di pubblico interesse (Art. 3), alla Formazione professionale (Art. 4) e alle Forme, strumenti e prodotti (Art. 3), che verranno esaminati nel prossimo paragrafo all'interno della trattazione dei Piani di comunicazione (Art. 12), la l. n. 150/2000 disciplina le Strutture (Art. 6) che devono realizzare le attività di informazione e comunicazione: il Portavoce (Art. 7), l'Ufficio stampa (Art. 9), l'Ufficio per le relazioni con il pubblico (Art. 8) e/o gli sportelli per il cittadino, gli sportelli unici della pubblica amministrazione, gli sportelli polifunzionali e gli sportelli per le imprese7. Svolgiamo qui alcune brevi considerazioni introduttive su tali strutture, avvertendo che all'interno della pubblica amministrazione italiana non sempre l'attuazione è stata pienamente conforme al disegno normativo e regolamentare. Inoltre, riguardo ai complessi modelli organizzativi è inte- 7 Il regolamento attuativo della legge 150/2000, approvato il 2.8.2001 dal Consiglio dei Ministri (Regola-mento recante norme per l'individuazione dei titoli professionali del personale da utilizzare presso le pubbliche amministrazioni per le attività di informazione e comunicazione e disciplina degli interventi formativi) pubblicato, come D.P.R. il 21.9.2001, n. 422, sulla G.U. n. 282 del 4.12.2001, detta le disposizioni per l'individuazione del personale degli "Uffici di relazione con il pubblico" e degli "Uffici stampa". LUCA CORCHIA 35 ressante sottolineare che le rilevazioni condotte sulle reali esigenze di comunicazione interna ed esterna degli Enti locali mostrano l'esistenza di strutture che la legge non ha previsto (Galeazzo, Peverelli 2005, p. 84). Il "Portavoce" coadiuva l'organo di vertice pro tempore dell'amministrazione per i rapporti di carattere politico-istituzionale con gli organi di informazione. È una figura anche esterna all'amministrazione che viene incaricata di curare le attività di informazione nei confronti dei mezzi di comunicazione di massa8 e che la l. 150/2000 attribuisce delle funzioni di integrazione al livello gerarchicamente più alto della Direzione Comunicazione, assieme al Capo Ufficio Stampa. Gli "Uffici stampa" possono essere costituiti dalle pubbliche amministrazioni, anche in forma associata9, per svolgere quelle attività indirizzate in via prioritaria ai mezzi di informazione di massa: stampa, radiofonici, televisivi ed on line, svolgendo delle funzioni di informazione politica, di comunicazione più orientata al marketing e altre attività più genericamente definite di "relazioni esterne". Formati da personale iscritto all'Albo nazionale dei giornalisti10, tali Uffici sono diretti da un coordinatore che assume la qualifica di "capo ufficio stampa", il quale assicura il massimo grado di trasparenza, chiarezza e tempestività delle comunicazioni da fornire nelle materie di interesse dell'amministrazione e, sulla base delle direttive impartite dall'organo di vertice dell'amministrazione, ne cura: i collegamenti con gli organi di informazione; la redazione di comunicati riguardanti sia l'attività dell'amministrazione e del suo vertice istituzionale sia quella di informazione, promozione e il lancio dei servizi; l'organizzazione di conferenze, incontri ed eventi stampa; la realizzazione di una rassegna stampa quotidiana o periodica, anche attraverso strumenti informatici; il coordinamento e la realizzazione della newsletter istituzionale e di tutti gli altri prodotti editoriali. Il personale si dovrebbe, quindi, caratterizzare per un 8 Al portavoce è attribuita una indennità determinata dall'organo di vertice nei limiti delle risorse disponibili appositamente iscritte in bilancio dall'amministrazione. Poiché la propria attività si rivolge ai mezzi di comunicazione di massa, il Portavoce non può, per tutta la durata del relativo incarico, esercitare attività nei settori radiotelevisivo, del giornalismo, della stampa e delle relazioni pubbliche. 9 Nelle amministrazioni locali di piccole dimensioni, gli Uffici stampa possono essere costituiti in forma consorziata tra enti locali che raggruppino una popolazione residente non inferiore a 25.000 unità. 10 In base alla l. n. 69/1963, l'Albo professionale dei giornalisti prevede due elenchi: quello dei giornalisti professionisti, a cui sono iscritti coloro che esercitano la professione "in modo esclusivo e continuativo", e quello dei giornalisti pubblicisti, composto da coloro che pur svolgendo "attività giornalistica non occasionale e retribuita" esercitano "altre professioni o impieghi". 36 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 ruolo meno politico rispetto al Portavoce e più amministrativo e di servizio, affermando la propria autonomia. Non a caso, nell'Ufficio stampa l'individuazione e la regolamentazione dei profili professionali sono affidate alla contrattazione collettiva nell'ambito di una speciale area di contrattazione, con l'intervento delle organizzazioni rappresentative della categoria dei giornalisti. I coordinatori e i componenti dell'Ufficio stampa non possono esercitare, per tutta la durata dei relativi incarichi, attività professionali nei settori radiotelevisivo, del giornalismo, della stampa e delle relazioni pubbliche. Anche se eventuali deroghe possono essere previste dalla contrattazione collettiva. Sin dall'approvazione della legge sono emerse alcune perplessità sull'effettiva autonomia professionale del personale degli uffici stampa rispetto a valutazioni di opportunità politica interne alla pubblica amministrazione: Non è facile definire, all'interno della legge, in che cosa si deve manifestare una forma di pratica professionale che dovrebbe garantire a chi la professa un'autonomia nei confronti di un'eventuale ingerenza del proprio datore di lavoro, e il ricorso alla tempestività, chiarezza e trasparenza mostra tutta la fragilità della soluzione proposta. Chiunque abbia avuto la possibilità di osservare da vicino l'attività non solo di opera negli uffici stampa, ma anche di chi opera in testate giornalistiche, si sarà reso conto che l'autonomia professionale è una garanzia che dipende dal contesto di lavoro specifico, dalla competenza e volontà del singolo e dalla distanza di ciascun argomento informativo trattato dagli interessi strategici di cui detiene la proprietà o ha la responsabilità della struttura informativa. In altre parole, la differenza che la legge presuppone tra il punto di vista adottato dal portavoce e quello assunto da chi opera nell'ufficio stampa è riscontrabile da un punto di vista astratto, mentre non sarà facile da mantenere, sempre e in relazione a qualsiasi tema, nella pratica (Grandi 20022, p. 161). Gli Uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico sono stati istituiti dal D.Lgs. del 3 febbraio 1993, n. 29, e riordinati nei compiti dalla l. 150/2000, al fine di: a) garantire ai cittadini singoli e associati l'esercizio dei diritti di informazione, di accesso e di partecipazione di cui alla l. n. 241/1990 e successive modificazioni; b) agevolare l'utilizzazione dei servizi, anche attraverso l'illustrazione delle disposizioni normative e amministrative, e l'informazione sulle strutture e sui compiti delle stesse amministrazioni; c) promuovere l'adozione di sistemi di interconnessione telematica e coordinare le reti civiche; d) attuare, mediante l'ascolto dei cittadini e la comunicazione interna, i processi di verifica della qualità dei servizi e di gradimento degli stessi da parte degli utenti; e) garantire la reciproca informazione fra l'Urp e le altre strutture operanti nell'amministrazione, nonché fra gli uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico delle varie amministrazioni. LUCA CORCHIA 37 Roberto Grandi aveva avvertito che le difficoltà che l'URP avrebbe incontrato nell'accettazione e condivisione di tali compiti e nell'assicurare personale adeguato (Ivi, p. 60). L'incarico di gestione delle Reti civiche e del sito Internet, inoltre, è destinato ad espandere la dimensione degli Uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico da semplice sportello di informazione al cittadino a veri e propri terminali di banche dati. Gli URP devono pertanto essere in grado di svolgere più funzioni e di corrispondere ad una domanda differenziata di servizi da parte del cittadino. In particolare, al fine di rendere gli URP degli strumenti del cambiamento interno della pubblica amministrazione, attraverso una funzione di marketing istituzionale e di verifica della soddisfazione del cittadino rispetto all'erogazione dei servizi, è opportuno che essi siano in grado di progettare e sviluppare azioni di studio e ricerca attraverso risorse umane in possesso delle competenze necessarie11. In tale direzione deve essere interpretata l'approvazione dei due Decreti del Presidente della Repubblica del 21 settembre 2001: il n. 403 sul Regolamento sui criteri per l'individuazione dei soggetti professionali esterni da invitare alle procedure di selezione per realizzare comunicazioni istituzionali a carattere pubblicitario – in base a quanto disposto dall'art. 13 della l. n. 150/2000 sui Progetti di comunicazione a carattere pubblicitario; il n. 422 sul Regolamento recante norme per l'individuazione dei titoli professionali del personale da utilizzare presso le pubbliche amministrazioni per le attività di informazione e di comunicazione e disciplina degli interventi formativi. Si tratta di due disposizioni che provano l'attenzione non solo sulle strutture e funzioni della comunicazione istituzionale ma anche sulla selezione e formazione del personale che la deve realizzare. 3. NOTE CRITICHE CONCLUSIVE La comunicazione istituzionale è oramai parte integrante dell'azione delle amministrazioni pubbliche. Tuttavia, il personale continuare a mantenere una resistenza al cambiamento che riproduce la logica del compito, del lavoro in compartimenti stagni e per prassi consolidate. Recenti indagini attestano, inoltre, una mancata attivazione di adeguati processi di comunicazione integrata e, quindi, il permanere di un'organizzazione per 11 Così come per gli Uffici stampa, nelle amministrazioni locali di piccole dimensioni, gli Urp possono costituirsi in forma consorziata tra enti locali con popolazione residente non inferiore a 25.000. 38 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 comparti. Considerando, ad esempio, le funzioni svolte dall'Urp risultano ancora vissute in maniera autoreferenziale, centralistica e con flusso top down. Al contrario, il futuro delle amministrazioni dovrà essere sempre più condizionato non soltanto dalla informatizzazione tecnologica ma anche dalla comunicazione integrata tra gli amministratori, gli operatori e i cittadini. La comunicazione organizzativa deve rendere possibile lo scambio di informazioni tra persone, strutture e processi di diverse organizzazioni attraverso una necessaria condivisione degli obiettivi e dei fini, rimodellando l'organizzazione nel perseguimento di azioni efficienti ed efficaci. L'assenza di una ampia circolazione delle informazioni sulle attività ed i processi lavorativi e il carente coinvolgimento del personale nei progetti di cambiamento organizzativo, non consente, altresì, di costruire al meglio l'identità di un'amministrazione, favorendo la crescita del senso di appartenenza nella dimensione del lavoro pubblico e ponendo su nuove basi la propria immagine. In questi contesti gli operatori della comunicazione istituzionale non sempre trovano un riconoscimento dell'importanza del loro ruolo e, quindi, la collaborazione da parte dei colleghi (Civelli, Piccinni 2002). Occorre che le competenze dei professionisti della comunicazione non siano valutate come accessorie e marginali rispetto a quelle tradizionalmente presenti nelle P.A. ma anche che le strutture preposte dalla normativa a tale funzione non siano considerate secondo delle logiche politiche spartitorie e autoreferenziali. Purtroppo, non sempre la creazione dei nuovi profili professionali e delle nuove forme di organizzazione del lavoro pubblico è accompagnata da una selezione del personale e da adeguati interventi formativi e di aggiornamento che valorizzino degli operatori dell'informazione e della comunicazione competenti e motivati (Arena 2005, p. 23). La l. n. 150/2000, il Dpr n. 422/2001, e più specificatamente la direttiva del Ministro per la Funzione Pubblica del 13.12.2001, sulla Formazione e la valorizzazione del personale delle pubbliche amministrazioni, hanno individuato nella formazione la chiave per migliorare la qualità delle prestazioni e per incentivare la motivazione del personale. La normativa offre alle Amministrazioni degli strumenti per adeguare, migliorare, selezionare – attraverso la definizione di percorsi di formazione ad hoc – le risorse umane già indirizzate o da indirizzare nei settori delle relazioni con i media (l'Ufficio stampa e l'Ufficio del portavoce) e con i cittadini (gli Uffici delle relazioni con il pubblico e analoghe strutture). Affinché non si allarghi la distanza tra le potenzialità della comunicaLUCA CORCHIA 39 zione istituzionale e i risultati comunicativi che le amministrazioni effettivamente riescono a conseguire, tali organizzazione devono essere davvero risolute nel realizzare concrete pratiche di buon governo e nell'adottare programmi formativi per tutto il personale impegnato nell'attività di informazione e comunicazione. Tuttavia, come rilevava la ricerca Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), le amministrazioni pubbliche denunciano carenze di operatori internet, tecnici pubblicitari, operatori di relazioni con soggetti economici, organizzatori di eventi, esperti di comunicazione di crisi, etc. Inoltre, sebbene comincino ad entrare negli Enti locali degli operatori qualificati, poco più della metà delle amministrazioni ha provveduto a formare il personale (Rolando 2005, pp. 15-16). Più in generale, occorre sviluppare le strutture previste dalla normativa il Portavoce, l'Ufficio stampa e l'Ufficio per le relazioni con il pubblico, etc. Dal suddetto Rapporto, risultava che il 72,4% delle amministrazioni pubbliche ha dichiarato di aver realizzato l'Ufficio Relazioni con il Pubblico, a fronte di un 48% relativamente all'Ufficio stampa e all'11,1% rispetto alla figura del Portavoce (Lonzi 2005). Vista la rilevanza dei mezzi di comunicazione di massa nei processi di formazione dell'opinione pubblica delle società avanzate e i problemi di integrazione comunicativa all'interno delle amministrazioni pubbliche, il Portavoce rappresenta una struttura organizzativa ancora troppo spesso trascurata negli enti locali italiani (Comboni 2005, p. 114) Inoltre, indipendentemente dalla loro diffusione, rimangono funzioni vissute ancora in maniera burocratica anziché tale da realizzare con esse le attese di accesso, informazione, ascolto e partecipazione avanzate dalle istanze dei cittadini. Un ulteriore fattore di criticità è rappresentato dal linguaggio amministrativo. Come noto, i cittadini si aspettano una comunicazione che soddisfi i requisiti della chiarezza, semplicità e sinteticità e che, al contempo, sia completa e corretta. A partire dai primi anni '90, il Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica ha adottato numerose disposizioni e realizzato progetti dedicati alla semplificazione del linguaggio delle amministrazioni nei contatti con i cittadini, il cosiddetto "burocratese". I tentativi di "rinfrescare" il linguaggio delle istituzioni pubbliche avviato nei primi anni '90, infatti, devono ancora produrre pienamente degli effetti strutturali (Fioritto 1997). Risulta poi in rodaggio la promozione di un pieno coordinamento. Appare gestita in modo frammentario, senza una pianificazione strategica come se le funzioni fossero lasciate alla buona volontà dei settori e/o sog40 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 getti. Nicoletta Levi segnala che, rispetto alla rigida e uniforme applicazione del modello normativo, nelle amministrazioni italiane prevalgano soluzioni differenti per l'organizzazione e il coordinamento della comunicazione istituzionale, tanto per il ruolo e i compiti assegnati all'Urp quanto rispetto alle soluzioni relative al coordinamento: soluzioni spesso dovute a caratteristiche dell'organizzazione, quali la tipologia di ente, la classe dimensionale delle dimensioni, etc. (Ambrosini 2001)12. Gli Uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico hanno finito per rispondere anche all'esigenza di un maggior coordinamento all'interno dell'amministrazione. Infatti, la l. n. 150/2000 non ha prescritto come debbano essere garantite la reciprocità e l'interdipendenza tra le strutture organizzative previste alla comunicazione (Simonetti 2003). Al fine di radicare nelle P.A. una coerente politica di comunicazione integrata con i cittadini e le imprese, una gestione professionale e sistematica dei rapporti con tutti gli organi di informazione (mass media tradizionali e nuovi), un sistema di flussi di comunicazione interna incentrato sull'intenso utilizzo di tecnologie informatiche e banche dati, una formazione e valorizzazione del personale impegnato nelle attività di informazione e di comunicazione, una pianificazione delle attività e delle risorse impegnate in tali settori, il Ministro per la Funzione Pubblica e per il Coordinamento dei Servizi di Informazione e Sicurezza aveva emanato il 7 febbraio 2002 una Direttiva sulle attività di comunicazione delle pubbliche amministrazioni in cui si indicano gli indirizzi di coordinamento, organizzazione e monitoraggio delle strutture, degli strumenti e delle attività previste dalla normativa in materia di informazione e comunicazione pubblica. La c.d. "Direttiva Frattini", infatti, ha affrontato il nodo del coordinamento in modo più mirato rispetto a quanto disposto dalla l. n. 150/2000, affrontando il problema dell'integrazione fra i diversi soggetti che si occupano di comunicazione nell'amministrazione pubblica (Wizemann 2005). Il raccordo tra il Responsabile URP, il Responsabile dell'Ufficio stampa e il Portavoce dovrebbe essere garantita dall'istituzione di una struttura che avrebbe il compito di assicurare il raccordo operativo tra i segmenti di comunicazione attivati, prevedendo «forme organizzative di coordinamento delle loro attività, per massimizzare l'utilizzo delle risorse umane ed economiche, creare sinergie ed integrazione tra le azioni di comunicazione e 12 Si veda anche la ricerca nazionale del 2004 sullo stato di applicazione della l. 150/2000 e della Direttiva Frattini del 2002. L'indagine curata dalla Levi per conto di UrpdegliUrp, del Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica e della Regione Emilia-Romagna è documentata nel volume (Levi 2004). LUCA CORCHIA 41 contribuire a rendere efficaci e soddisfacenti le relazioni con i cittadini»13. Peraltro, come ha rilevato Nicoletta Levi, questo modello organizzativo della comunicazione istituzionale, centrato sulla struttura di coordinamento, non è diffuso in modo uniforme nelle amministrazioni pubbliche italiane. Il sistema pubblico italiano appare, infatti, sostanzialmente diviso in due universi abbastanza equilibrati sul piano della consistenza numerica ma diversi sul piano della modalità di organizzazione della funzione di comunicazione istituzionale. E ancora recentemente, è arrivata la richiesta degli Stati Generali della Comunicazione Pubblica In Italia e in Europa, svolti a Bologna tra il 6 e l'8 ottobre del 2008, di dare piena attuazione alla l. 150/2000, con adeguate risorse economiche, e promuovere la gestione della comunicazione istituzionale come sistema integrato. Inoltre, assume una crescente diffusione, soprattutto, nelle amministrazioni di dimensioni più piccole, il ricorso alla "esternalizzazione" di attività degli uffici di comunicazione, non solo per la produzione editoriale, le campagne pubblicitarie e i per i servizi legati alla gestione degli eventi, ma anche per la gestione del sito internet e per compiti di informazione più tradizionali. Data la rilevanza delle funzioni svolte, in tali situazioni, è difficile distinguere se la struttura è governata dagli uffici di comunicazione o se è stata "ceduta" al partner esterno: Particolarmente interessante è, inoltre, il dato emerso dall'indagine sulla "esternalizzazione" di compiti e di attività da parte degli uffici di comunicazione. Nelle amministrazioni, infatti, il ricorso alla cooperazione esterna risulta frequente per la produzione editoriale, per la gestione del sito internet, per i servizi legati alla gestione degli eventi. Solo poche amministrazioni hanno dichiarato di non avvalersi in nessun caso di forme di esternalizzazione. Se, in alcuni casi, la collaborazione con prestatori di servizi o consulenti rientra senz'altro in un'ottica gestionale, legata alla specializzazione e alla segmentazione dei processi produttivi, in altri la rilevanza dei compiti svolti è tale che risulta difficile distinguere se la funzione è ancora governata dagli uffici di comunicazione ovvero è stata sostanzialmente "ceduta" al partner esterno (de Benedetto 2005, p. 70). Sono ancora troppe, poi, le P.A. che, pur dovendo assicurare "trasparenza", 13 Per una rilevazione delle strutture deputate alle funzioni di comunicazione e relazioni con il pubblico nelle pubbliche amministrazioni, dei compiti specifici che sono demandate a tali strutture e dei meccanismi di coordinamento attivati per favorire l'integrazione tra tali strutture, cfr. Levi 2004. 42 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 faticano a praticare l'innovazione che il principio di pubblicità esige, limitandosi a servizi di informazione e di comunicazione che non incidono realmente sui processi che le stesse sono chiamate a governare. Si verifica la situazione paradossale sempre paventata dalla Levi, per cui, a fronte della dichiarata valenza strategica della comunicazione istituzionale da parte del sistema politico-amministrativo, la "cultura dei decisori" rimane prevalentemente ancorata a vecchie logiche decisionali. In tale quadro la comunicazione resta «un passaggio residuale dell'azione pubblica sia in termini di processo (l'ultimo passaggio della catena decisionale) sia in termini di contenuto (spesso slegata dagli obiettivi strategici che l'organizzazione persegue con quella decisione)» (2006, p. 10). Quanto finora detto introduce l'elemento dell'ascolto nell'ambito della comunicazione. La comunicazione pubblica e il piano di comunicazione sono caratterizzati, infatti, dalla bi-direzionalità: essi servono a trasferire verso l'esterno informazioni sull'organizzazione ma anche a introdurre le "voci" esterne nell'organizzazione. L'ascolto "attivo", non episodico, strutturato e consapevole, e in questo senso assunto quale scelta strategica da parte del vertice dell'amministrazione pubblica, concretizza la bi-direzionalità e consente di completare il circolo virtuoso della comunicazione, al fine di valorizzare le relazioni in termini di impatti sui processi di innovazione, cambiamento, sviluppo. Più la comunicazione avvicina il cittadino all'amministrazione più questa diventa altamente sensibile ai bisogni collettivi e capace di rispondervi efficacemente. È indispensabile, quindi, evitare che la comunicazione istituzionale decada a mero adempimento burocratico, finendo per non contribuire a migliorare l'incrocio tra la domanda dei cittadini e l'offerta della pubblica amministrazione. Può accadere, infatti, che l'impegno dell'amministrazione pur prevedendo, per ipotesi, una compiuta programmazione in merito alla definizione degli obiettivi e della strategia della comunicazione integrata (azioni di comunicazione interna, esterna, on line, pubblicitaria, etc.), alla descrizione delle singole azioni con l'indicazione dei tempi di realizzazione (calendarizzazione per fasi), alla scelta dei mezzi di diffusione e il budget e alla pianificazione delle attività di monitoraggio e valutazione dell'efficacia delle azioni (sia in itinere al progetto sia ex post), nonostante tutto non produca comunque effetti positivi nelle proprie attività. Ciò ci ricorda che la realizzazione di una comunicazione istituzionale adeguata deve accompagnare una complessiva razionalizzazione organizzativa e gestionale. Non di rado, peraltro, assistiamo nelle amministrazioni pubbliche italiane a comunicazioni del tutto o in parte inconsapevoli sia rispetto alla definizione degli obiettivi sia riguardo alle propri strategie di realizzazione. In particolare, l'assenza di obiettivi chiari, definiti e misurabili «aumenta il LUCA CORCHIA 43 rischio di produrre effetti comunicativi distorti, di sprecare risorse, di generare incoerenze e casualità comunicative caratterizzate più dal dover fare che dal sapere perché farlo» (Levi 2004, p. 31). Ciò è tanto più pregiudizievole in quanto il proliferare delle informazioni provenienti da fonti alternative ha dato luogo a un fenomeno di "disinformazione per eccesso", in cui la molteplicità, la frammentazione e la contraddittorietà del numero di informazioni provenienti da una pluralità di fonti differenti finisce per "paralizzare" il cittadino, anziché orientarlo. Hilgartner e Bosk (1988) discutendo del modo in cui i problemi sociali sono definiti all'interno delle cosiddette arene pubbliche avevano sottolineano come ogni arena pubblica sia caratterizzata da una certa "capacità portante", ovvero da un numero di situazioni che possono essere trattate come problema e discusse da un'arena. Ciò che ci interessa, qui, è che se le nuove tecnologie possono veicolare un numero tendenzialmente infinito di temi in discussione, la capacità cognitiva di coloro a cui tali messaggi sono destinati è, per contro, molto più limitata. Occorre quindi, saper valutare il rischio di un sovraccarico d'informazione nei confronti dei cittadini: l'eccesso di informazione ne impedisce un pieno utilizzo. Una resistenza al cambiamento proviene, come sempre, dalle esigenze di bilancio. Riguardo alla comunicazione, la direttiva Frattini del 2002 aveva stabilito che «Le amministrazioni si impegnano a individuare nel proprio bilancio un capitolo dedicato alle spese complessive per la comunicazione e informazione pubblica in una percentuale non inferiore al 2,0% delle risorse generali». Per contro, dall'indagine sulla Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), risulta che, a parte alcune significative eccezioni, la grande maggioranza delle amministrazioni pubbliche investe una percentuale inferiore14. Il ritardo attuativo è dovuto, dunque, anche alla carenza di risorse che ha, rallentato ulteriormente la messa in opera di sistemi di comunicazione interna ed esterna15. Anche se fare i conti con le risorse effettivamente disponibili impone delle priorità. 14 «I dati raccolti nel corso dell'indagine ci mostrano amministrazioni che dichiarano, in modo largamente prevalente (l'86% circa), un budget stanziato per le strutture di legge 150 compreso tra 0 e 100.000. Questi valori rappresenterebbero nel 60,4% dei casi meno dello 0,5% del totale delle dotazioni finanziarie dell'ente; se si considerano gli enti che destinano alla comunicazione meno dell'1% delle risorse disponibili, la percentuale sale addirittura all'86,1%» (Sepe, Vetritto 2005, p. 75). 15 Alla domanda "cosa sarebbe necessario per favorire il radicamento della funzione di comunicazione e delle relative professionalità nelle amministrazioni pubbliche" la maggioranza delle amministrazioni intervistate (61,9%) è d'accordo nel ritenere necessario un incremento delle risorse umane e finanziare. Cfr. Rega 2005, pp. 71-72. 44 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 RIFERIMENTI BIBLIOGRAFICI AMBROSINI A.M. (2001), a cura di, URP on line. Indagine sullo stato di attuazione degli Uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico, Soveria Mannelli, Rubettino. ARENA G. (1995), La comunicazione di interesse generale, Bologna, Il Mulino. ARENA G. (19992), Gli uffici per le relazioni con il pubblico: commento alla art.12 del d.lgs. 3 febbraio 1993, n.29, in CARINCI F., D'ANTONA M. (a cura di), Il lavoro alle dipendenze delle amministrazioni pubbliche, Milano, Giuffrè. ARENA G. (1999), Il ruolo della comunicazione nella amministrazione condivisa, in «Rivista italiana di comunicazione pubblica», 1, pp. 15-23. ARENA G. (20042), La funzione pubblica di comunicazione, in ARENA G. (a cura di), La funzione di comunicazione nelle pubbliche amministrazioni, Rimini, Maggioli, pp. 31-83. ARENA G. (2005), La comunicazione pubblica "parte integrante" dell'azione amministrativa, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 23-24. ASSOCIAZIONE ITALIANA DI COMUNICAZIONE PUBBLICA E ISTITUZIONALE (2004), Comunicazione è Cittadinanza, Roma, 12 dicembre. ASSOCIAZIONE ITALIANA DI COMUNICAZIONE PUBBLICA E ISTITUZIONALE (2002), ISTITUTO CATTANEO, Istituzioni pubbliche e cittadini: un dialogo possibile?, Roma. ATTANASIO A.M., CANDIDI A.M., DE PASCALE C., PARIS M. (1997), a cura di, Guida alle leggi Bassanini, Milano, Il Sole 24 Ore. BOBBIO L. (2007), a cura di, Amministrare con i cittadini. Viaggio tra le pratiche di partecipazione in Italia, Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino. CARINGELLA F., A. GIUNCATO, F. ROMANO (2007), L'ordinamento degli enti locali: commentario al testo unico, Milano, Wolters Kluwer Italia. CIVELLI F., PICCINNI V. (2002), Il comunicatore pubblico, Milano, Guerini e Associati. COMBONI D. (2005), Relazioni con i media, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (20002004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 113-114. DE BENEDETTO M. (2005), Linee generali, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (20002004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 69-71. DE MARTIN G.C. (2007), Il sistema delle autonomie locali dopo il Titolo V: quali prospettive?, in «Amministrazione in Cammino», 2. LUCA CORCHIA 45 FACCIOLI F. (2000), Comunicazione pubblica e cultura del servizio, Roma, Carocci. FACCIOLI F. (2002), La comunicazione pubblica. Luci e ombre di un'innovazione, in «Quaderni di Sociologia», 20, pp. 16-32. FACCIOLI F. (2004), Comunicazione pubblica e cultura organizzativa, in LEVI N. (a cura di), Il piano di comunicazione nelle amministrazioni pubbliche. Analisi e strumenti per l'innovazione, Napoli, Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, pp. 23-26. FACCIOLI F. (2005), La dimensione della comunicazione "di servizio", in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 99-105. FACCIOLI F. (2007), La comunicazione nel processo partecipato. Appunti dal tavolo di lavoro comunicare la partecipazione, Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica. FACCIOLI F., MAZZA B. (2008), Per saperne di più, Bologna, Stati generali della comunicazione pubblica. FALCON G. (2001), Il nuovo Titolo V della parte seconda della Costituzione, in «Le Regioni», 1, 2001, pp. 3-10. FIORE M. (1992), Gli istituti di partecipazione nella legge n. 142 del 1990, in «Nuova Rassegna», 5, pp. 518-528. FIORITTO A. (1997), a cura di, Manuale di stile. Strumenti per semplificare il linguaggio delle amministrazioni pubbliche, Bologna, Il Mulino. GALEAZZO P., PEVERELLI V. (2005), Modelli organizzativi, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 83-87. GRAMIGNA A., STECCA S. (2010), a cura di, Comunicare dentro l'Amministrazione, Collana Strumenti di URPdegliURP, 6, Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica. GRANDI R. (2007), La comunicazione pubblica. Teorie, casi, profili normativi, Roma, Carocci. GRANDINETTI R., GUERRA P. (2002), Carta dei servizi e customer satisfaction: l'evoluzione della relazione con l'utente nelle aziende di servizi pubblici locali, in VACCÀ S. (a cura di), Problemi e prospettive dei servizi locali di pubblica utilità in Italia, Milano, FrancoAngeli, pp. 183212. HILGARTNER S., CHARLES L. BOSK (1988), The Rise and Fall of Social Problems: A Public Arenas Model, in «American Journal of Sociology», 94, pp. 53-78. LAUDANI A. (2005), La prospettiva normativa, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), 46 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (20002004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 62-68. LEVI N. (2004), La comunicazione pubblica, in Id., Il piano di comunicazione nelle amministrazioni pubbliche. Analisi e strumenti per l'innovazione, Napoli, Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, pp. 13-26. LEVI N. (2004), a cura di, Poligoni irregolari, La struttura di coordinamento e la funzione di comunicazione nelle amministrazioni pubbliche italiane, Strumenti di URPdegliURP, 3, Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica e Regione Emilia Romagna. LEVI N. (2006), a cura di, Il Piano di comunicazione: apprendere dall'esperienza, Strumenti di URPdegliURP, 4, Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica. LONZI P.D. (2005), Uffici per le Relazioni con il Pubblico, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 110-112. MANCINI P. (2002), Manuale di comunicazione pubblica, Roma-Bari, Laterza. MARCONI P. (1998), La carta dei servizi pubblici e la citizen's charter. La normativa sulla carta dei servizi, in "Rivista trimestrale di diritto pubblico", XLVIII, 1, pp. 197-205. MUSSARI R. (1999), La carta dei servizi e sistema dei controlli interni, in "Rivista Trimestrale di Scienza dell'amministrazione", XLVI, 4, pp. 121-144. NORSA L. (2002), a cura di, Crisis management, Napoli, Edizioni Simone. NORSA L. (2009), Risk, issue e crisis management, Milano, Ipsoa. NUCCI G. (2005), La comunicazione interna nella pubblica amministrazione, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 121-124. PASINI N. (1999), a cura di, Le carte dei servizi, Milano, FrancoAngeli. RAZZANTE R. (2000), Giornalismo e comunicazione pubblica. Normative e organizzazione, Milano, FrancoAngeli. REGA R. (2005), Attuazione delle normative, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (20002004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 71-74. RIZZO M.V. (2004), La comunicazione interna, in LEVI N. (a cura di), Il piano di comunicazione nelle amministrazioni pubbliche. Analisi e strumenti per l'innovazione, Napoli, Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, pp. 114-115. RODRIGUEZ M. (2004), I caratteri distintivi della comunicazione pubblica, LUCA CORCHIA 47 in LEVI N. (a cura di), Il piano di comunicazione nelle amministrazioni pubbliche. Analisi e strumenti per l'innovazione, Napoli, Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, pp. 19-23. ROLANDO S. (1978), Il principe e la parola. Dalla propaganda di Stato alla comunicazione istituzionale, Milano, Edizioni di Comunità. ROLANDO S. (1990), Lo stato della pubblicità di Stato, Milano, Il Sole24Ore. ROLANDO S. (1995), a cura di, La comunicazione pubblica in Italia: realtà e prospettive di un settore strategico, Milano, Editrice Bibliografica. ROLANDO S. (2001), Teoria e Tecniche della Comunicazione Pubblica, Milano, Etas. ROLANDO S. (2005), Tendenze generali e proposte, in ID. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (20002004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 7-21. ROLANDO S., TAMBORINI S. (2000), a cura di, La ricerca per valutare e pianificare la comunicazione pubblica, Milano, FrancoAngeli. ROLLA G., MESSERI A., GRISENDI A. (1998), a cura di, Gli URP. La comunicazione tra l'ente locale e il cittadino, Rimini, Maggioli. RONCHI F. (2005), La comunicazione istituzionale in Italia e i suoi significati simbolici, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 56-58. ROSATI C. (1996), Guida all'ufficio per le relazioni con il pubblico, Gorle (Bergamo), Editrice CEL. ROVINETTI A. (1997), Dall'Urp allo sportello unico della pubblica amministrazione, in «Amministrare», XXVII, 3, pp. 393-402. ROVINETTI A. (2002), Diritto di parola. Strategie, professioni, tecnologie della comunicazione pubblica, Milano, Edizioni Il Sole 24 ore. ROVINETTI A. (2006), Fare comunicazione pubblica, Roma, Ed. Comunicazione Italiana. ROVINETTI A. (2005), Occupazione e profili professionali, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 87-89. ROVINETTI A., ROVERSI G. (1988), L'Ufficio stampa e l'informazione locale, Rimini, Maggioli. RUFFINI R. (1999), La Carta dei servizi. Valutazione e miglioramento della qualità nella pubblica amministrazione, Milano, Guerini e Associati. SANTANIELLO R. (2005), Lo sforzo europeo nella comunicazione istituzionale italiana, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (2000-2004), Roma, Dipartimento 48 THE LAB'S QUARTERLY, 1, 2016 della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 62-64. SEPE S. (2004), La comunicazione pubblica nei processi di riforma del sistema am-ministrativo, in LEVI N. (a cura di), Il piano di comunicazione nelle amministrazioni pubbliche. Analisi e strumenti per l'innovazione, Napoli, Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, pp. 13-19. SEPE S. (2000), Stato legale e stato reale. Amministrazioni, cittadini e imprese alle soglie del Duemila, Milano, Il Sole24Ore. SEPE S. (2005), Tendenze della formazione, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (20002004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 77-81. SIMONETTI E. (2003) (a cura di), Guida alla comunicazione istituzionale on line, per gli URP e gli altri servizi di comunicazione pubblica, Strumenti di URPdegliURP, 2, Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica-Regione Emilia Romagna. STIPO M. (1998), a cura di, Commento alla Legge 127/97 Bassanini "bis", Rimini, Maggioli. VESPERINI G., BATTINI S. (1997), La carta dei servizi pubblici, Rimini, Maggioli. WIZEMANN A. (2005), Comunicazione integrata, in ROLANDO S. (a cura di), Situazione e tendenze della comunicazione istituzionale in Italia (20002004), Roma, Dipartimento della Funzione Pubblica, pp. 132-135.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Time Reversal Invariance in Quantum Mechanics by Reza Moulavi Ardakani, M.A, B.S A Thesis In Physics Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of Texas Tech University in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of MASTER OF SCIENCE Approved Dr. Nural Akchurin Chair of Committee Dr. Joel Velasco Dr. Mahdi Sanati Mark Sheridan Dean of the Graduate School December, 2017 Copyright 2017, Reza Moulavi Ardakani Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 ii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I would like to thank my supervisors, Nural Akchurin, Mahdi Sanati, and Joel Velasco for guiding me while writing this thesis and also for the courses they taught me over the last three years. I am particularly grateful for the assistance they provided by listening to my ideas and questions, and even more for understanding my special mental health situation and their patience with me throughout my study. I would especially like to thank Nural for engaging me with new ideas and providing me with the opportunity to choose this amazing topic. I offer my most heartfelt thanks to his kind management of my thesis committee and the department of physics. I only regret not benefiting even more from his knowledge. I would like to thank Mahdi for assisting me during the hardest times of my life. Due to my health conditions, I was forced to quit graduate school, that is when Mahdi stepped in and offered help to me. I can honestly say without his intervention, this thesis would not exist. I will never forget his help. I owe a debt of gratitude for both his constant academic and non-academic support. I would also like to thank Joel for his strong sense of responsibility which is considerably greater than his academic duty requires from him; for giving me intellectual freedom in my work while simultaneously not sacrificing his high academic standards; for the time he devoted to me, the feedback, and his precise and comprehensive emails. All of his support assured me that he was always there to aid my academic future. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 iii Other than my advisors, I had the great chance to learn from Bryan Roberts through email and reading his excellent PhD dissertation and papers very closely related to my thesis topic. His works and guidance helped me a lot, and so I am deeply grateful. I would like to express my deep gratitude to Howard Curzer for showing me the humane aspect of a philosophy teacher. I greatly benefited from his philosophical insights during our valuable conversations and exciting meetings. Without a doubt he is the nicest person I have ever met. I would be remiss if I did not thank Daniel Nathan who supported me kindly like a father during my endeavors. I am not the only student he has helped prevent from slipping through the cracks, so I am thankful to him for being there for both me and all the others. Finally, I would like to thank Stephen Buchok, my psychiatrist. Although he unfortunately passed away more than one year ago, I will remember him as my dutiful and kind-hearted doctor. Also I would like to thank Debrajean Wheeler and Joyce Norton, kind staff members of the Philosophy and Physics departments, respectively. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 iv TABLE OF CONTENTS ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ...................................................................................................... ii ABSTRACT............................................................................................................................ vi LIST OF FIGURES ............................................................................................................... vii 1. INTRODUCTION ................................................................................................................1 1.1. Spatiotemporal Symmetries .........................................................................................1 1.2. Time Reversal Invariance .............................................................................................5 1.3. Temporal Asymmetry of Thermodynamics ................................................................7 1.4. Quantum Mechanics .....................................................................................................8 1.5. The Problem and its Significance ................................................................................9 2. TIME REVERSAL INVARIANCE ................................................................................ 13 2.1. Time Reversal Invariance in Classical Mechanics .................................................. 13 2.1.1. When Classical Mechanics Is Time Reversal Invariant? ................................. 14 2.2. Time Reversal Invariance in Electromagnetism ...................................................... 16 2.3. Time Reversal Invariance in Quantum Mechanics .................................................. 18 2.3.1. First Step ............................................................................................................. 19 2.3.2. Second Step ......................................................................................................... 20 2.3.3. Third Step ............................................................................................................ 21 2.4. Discussion................................................................................................................... 23 2.4.1. Three Accounts of Time Reversal Invariance .................................................. 24 2.4.2. Time Reversal Invariance of Various Interpretations of Quantum Mechanics ........................................................................................................... 30 Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 v 3. TIME REVERSAL INVARIANCE VIOLATION IN QUANTUM MECHANICS .................................................................................................................... 35 3.1. T-violation by Curie's Principle ................................................................................ 35 3.2. T-violation by Kabir's Principle ............................................................................... 37 3.3. T-violation by Wigner's Principle ............................................................................ 38 4. TIME REVERSAL INVARIANCE VIOLATION IN THE K AND B MESONS ........................................................................................................................... 45 4.1. Direct Observation of T-violation in the Neutral K Mesons ................................... 45 4.1.1. Theoretical Background ..................................................................................... 45 4.1.2. The CPLEAR Experiment.................................................................................. 47 4.2. Direct Observation of T-violation in the Neutral B Mesons ................................... 50 5. SUMMARY ....................................................................................................................... 54 BIBLOGRAPHY ................................................................................................................... 58 Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 vi ABSTRACT Symmetries have a crucial role in today's physics. In this thesis, we are mostly concerned with time reversal invariance (T-symmetry). A physical system is time reversal invariant if its underlying laws are not sensitive to the direction of time. There are various accounts of time reversal transformation resulting in different views on whether or not a given theory in physics is time reversal invariant. With a focus on quantum mechanics, I describe the standard account of time reversal and compare it with my alternative account, arguing why it deserves serious attention. Then, I review three known ways to T-violation in quantum mechanics, and explain two unique experiments made to detect it in the neutral K and B mesons. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 vii LIST OF FIGURES 1. Spatial and temporal symmetries. ......................................................................................2 2. Spatial symmetry transformations: A) Original coordinate origin (Right- handed), B) Translated coordinate origin, C) Rotated coordinate origin, D) Inversed coordinate origin (Left-handed).....................................................................4 3. Wu's experiment basic idea. ...............................................................................................5 4. Two accounts of time reversal applied on the process A: (a) Standard account, (b) Alternative account. "Time-arrows" are depicted by thick (blue or green) arrows and "process-arrows" are depicted by thin (white) arrows. ............................................................................................................................... 26 5. Left Process: A spin-up electron moving along +x direction, Right Process: A spin-down electron moving along –x direction. ......................................................... 27 6. Time reverse of the left process in the figure 5 according to my alternative view. .................................................................................................................................. 28 7. A particle having EDM violates both P and T symmetries: d negates under P but not μ (top-right), and μ negates under T but not d (bottom-right). From [19]. ......................................................................................................................... 39 8. View of the CPLEAR detector. From [6]. ...................................................................... 48 9. T-violation asymmetry A# $%& . Full line represents a constant fit in the decay- time interval 1-20τ(. From [6]. ....................................................................................... 49 10. Basic concept of BABAR experiment. From [23]. ......................................................... 51 11. The asymmetry AT measured by the BABAR experiment for transitions c. The points with error bars represent the data, the red (solid) and blue (dashed) curves represent the projections of the best fit results with and without time-reversal violation, respectively. From [7]. ............................................. 52 Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 1 CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION The nature of time is one of the central questions of physics and philosophy, especially metaphysics and philosophy of science. Many controversial issues as direction of time, reversibility, backward causation and time travel are related to this topic. In the past, physics and philosophy were not sharply distinct disciplines, but nowadays, modern physicists and analytic philosophers do not have the same approach toward these questions. Nevertheless, both physicists and philosophers agree that these crucial questions are indispensable to our ultimate understanding of nature and the shaping of our worldview. 1.1. Spatiotemporal Symmetries Symmetry is also critical to the structure of our best theories in physics. In at least two ways, various kinds of symmetries or invariances have a very important role in fundamental physics, especially quantum theory and relativity: First, we may attribute specific symmetry properties to phenomena or to laws (symmetry principles). ...Second, we may derive specific consequences with regard to particular physical situations or phenomena on the basis of their symmetry properties (symmetry arguments) [1]. Symmetry under time reversal or time reversal invariance is a kind of symmetry principle, which is the main focus of this thesis. Space inversion (P or parity) and CPT symmetry (or CPT theorem for Charge conjugation, Parity, and Time invariance) are Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 2 closely related to our discussion. Below, we introduce parity (P)1 and time reversal (T) transformations along with other spatiotemporal symmetries. C is called charge conjugation transformation, and replaces a particle with its antiparticle. CPT symmetry says that in specific (but general enough) conditions, quantum phenomena are invariant under combination of C, P and T transformations [2]. Consider any possible combination of these transformations, like P itself or CP denoted by X, and a given state of the quantum system. If the state is invariant under X, it is said that the state is X-even, otherwise it is said that the state is X-odd. Employing this convention, CPT symmetry states that under certain restrictions, every quantum state is CPT-even [2]. As is depicted in figure 1, there are three spatial and two temporal symmetries. They have a very special role in the foundation of physics, let's see why and how. Space 1 I use X to denote both X symmetry and X transformation. Spatial Symmetries Space Translation Sym. Conservation of Linear Momentum Space Rotational Sym. Conservation of Angular Momentum Space Inversion Sym. (Parity or P) Temporal Symmetries Time Translation Sym. Conservation of Energy Time Reversal Sym. (T) Figure 1. Spatial and temporal symmetries. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 3 translation symmetry means that the location of the origin of a coordinate system is arbitrary. In other words, no physical system is sensitive to its location in space, or the behavior of the system is the same no matter where the coordinate origin is located. This is what is meant by uniformity of space, and results in the conservation of linear momentum. Also, the orientation of the axes is arbitrary. This property is called isotropy of space, and results in the conservation of angular momentum [2]. The other fundamental symmetry is time translation symmetry, as a result of uniformity of time. This means that choice of time origin, t = 0, is conventional. That is to say, all dynamics are invariant under time translation, or change of time origin. This symmetry yields conservation of energy [2]. These symmetries, and the corresponding conservation laws are never experimentally violated. It seems that they are built in the constitution of nature, otherwise, we could not be assured that the same two experiments would have same results whenever and wherever are they carried out. In other words, it is by virtue of the uniformity of space and uniformity of time that we can explain and predict phenomena in science, and this is a very important role that these symmetries play in the foundation of science. However, the situation is somewhat different for space inversion symmetry and time reversal symmetry. Firstly, unlike translation and rotation which may be described in terms of continuously varying sets of parameters, parity and time reversal transformations cannot be carried out continuously. For this reason, the former are called "proper" transformations while the latter are called "improper" transformations. Secondly, for a long time, it was thought that P and T symmetries hold in nature too, but in the second half of the 20th century, they were experimentally shown to be violated [2]. Space inversion is Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 4 interchanging the right-handed and left-handed coordinate systems, or negating all space coordinates (point reflection). For example, in three dimensions: r = . x y z 2 4 → −r = . −x −y −z 2. We cannot construct parity merely via rotation, a mixture of mirror (plane) reflection and π rotation is needed, so P-violation does not violate isotropy of space: r = . x y z 2 89:; <: >?@@A@ @:BC:D9?AE FGH ;CIE: J⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯L . x −y z 2 89:; M: N OPQRQSPT ROPUTV W J⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯L . −x −y −z 2 = −r In 1957, Chien Shiung Wu's team observed P-violation in the β-decay of Co2760 (β − Co). Actually, they detected P-violation in step 1 above, that is to say, they found that an experiment which is set up like the mirror image of the original β − Co experiment does x A y z x' y' z' B D x' z' y' x' z' C y' Figure 2. Spatial symmetry transformations: A) Original coordinate origin (Right-handed) B) Translated coordinate origin, C) Rotated coordinate origin, D) Inversed coordinate origin (Left-handed) Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 5 not behave like the mirror image of the original β − Co experiment [3]. The discovery of P-violation was a significant contribution to particle physics and the development of the standard model [2]. For their role in this discovery, Wu was awarded Wolf Prize in 1978 and before that, her colleagues, Tsung Dao Lee and Chen Ning Yang were awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1957. 1.2. Time Reversal Invariance What is meant by time reversal invariance? Commonly, a physical process is said to be time reversal invariant if its reverse is also allowed by laws of nature. However, there is a great deal of controversy regarding the exact physical meaning of the reverse of a process. According to the simplest view, to reverse a process it suffices to reverse the order of the instantaneous states of the process. That is what exactly happens when we play the film of a macroscopic process in reverse, for example the collision of two billiard balls. In Figure 3. Wu's experiment basic idea. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 6 this case, both what the film and the film played in reverse show are allowed by laws of classical mechanics, and by just watching the films we cannot say which is the real process and which is its reverse. Each is the reverse of the other, and both are equally plausible under normal conditions [4]. Suppose a finite process happening between t_ and t` as a sequence of instantaneous states S(t_), S(t<), S(tM), ... , S(t`). The above view implies that the reverse of this process is just the sequence of instantaneous states S(t`), ... , S(tM), S(t<), S(t_) happening in the same interval of time. To put it more formally, a finite process of S(t_), S(t<), S(tM), ... , S(t`) is time reversal invariant if the reversed process of S(t`), ... , S(tM), S(t<), S(t_) is also allowed by the laws of nature. We can generalize this definition to be applied to a theory. A theory is time reversal invariant if for any (in)finite sequence of instantaneous states ... , S(t_), S(t<), S(tM),... allowed by the theory, the reverse sequence of time-reversed states, ... , S(tM), S(t<), S(t_),... is also allowed [4]. Recalling the billiard balls case, it seems that according to this definition, classical mechanics theory is time reversal invariant. But the situation is more complicated for the electromagnetism and quantum theories [4]. The status of time reversal in these theories is discussed in the next chapter. Historically, it was thought that time reversal symmetry must not be violated in the microscopic theories underlying classical mechanics as a time reversal symmetric theory [2]. However, as will be explained in chapter 3, in 1964, James Cronin, Val Fitch and their coworkers detected indirect evidence for T-violation in the decay of K mesons and won the Physics Nobel Prize in 1980 [5]. After that, two direct observations of T-violation were made in the decay of K and B mesons in 1998 and 2012 by CPLEAR and BaBar collaboration, respectively [6, 7]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 7 1.3. Temporal Asymmetry of Thermodynamics Contrary to the seemingly obvious symmetry of classical mechanics under time reversal, the other macroscopic theory in physics, namely thermodynamics, shows completely asymmetric behavior. The thermodynamics time asymmetry is one of the most conspicuous properties of nature. There are infinite examples of temporal asymmetry in thermodynamics: heat flows from hot to cold, never the reverse. The smell of perfume spreads throughout its environment, never the reverse. Airplane jet engines convert fuel energy into work and thermal energy, never the reverse. Thermodynamics is able to explain these asymmetric phenomena as a result of its assertion that systems automatically evolve to equilibrium states in the flow of time, but do not automatically evolve away from equilibrium states [8]. There is a big puzzle here: how thermodynamics, as a non-fundamental theory, can be asymmetric if it is thought that fundamental laws underlying it are time symmetric? The common view is that the asymmetry of thermodynamics must be reduced to either asymmetric initial conditions or asymmetric underlying laws. Laws of classical mechanics are not a good candidate, because classical mechanics has time symmetric dynamics. So, many thinkers try to base the asymmetry of thermodynamics in electromagnetism or quantum mechanics. But there are many difficulties. The remaining option is appealing to asymmetric initial conditions to solve the problem [8]. Assuming temporally asymmetric boundary conditions makes it possible to have a world evolving toward equilibrium but not evolving away from it. For instance, a cosmological hypothesis, as David Albert calls it the "Past Hypothesis", states that in the very far past entropy was extremely lower than now. He claims that earlier states had lower Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 8 entropy than current ones because, according to the Past Hypothesis, the universe started in a super small part of its available phase space [4]. Although it seems that the Past Hypothesis solves this puzzle, there are some concerns about it which are irrelevant to our discussion here. 1.4. Quantum Mechanics Quantum mechanics as a microscopic theory describing the physical reality is much more complex than classical mechanics and thermodynamics. Unlike classical mechanics, we cannot easily imagine if it is invariant under time reversal, and also contrary to thermodynamics, we cannot observe its temporal asymmetric behavior in everyday life. But we are very curious to know what really happens in quantum mechanics under time reversal transformation. A reason is that quantum mechanics is our most fundamental theory in physics, underlying other microscopic and macroscopic theories like statistical mechanics, electromagnetism, classical mechanics and thermodynamics. It seems that we can have a clearer and more detailed picture of time reversal in these theories if we understand it at the quantum level [4, 9]. Although physicists may not be very interested, philosophers like to have a precise definition of quantum mechanics as a queer but successful theory. Like other philosophical questions there is not a unique and undoubtable answer to it. But we can summarize: Quantum mechanics is, at least at first glance and at least in part, a mathematical machine for predicting the behaviors of microscopic particles - or, at least, of the measuring instruments we use to explore those behaviors - and in that capacity, it is spectacularly successful: in terms of power and precision, head and shoulders above any theory we have ever had. Mathematically, the theory is well understood; we know what its parts are, how they are put together, and Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 9 why, in the mechanical sense (i.e., in a sense that can be answered by describing the internal grinding of gear against gear), the whole thing performs the way it does, how the information that gets fed in at one end is converted into what comes out the other. The question of what kind of a world it describes, however, is controversial; there is very little agreement, among physicists and among philosophers, about what the world is like according to quantum mechanics [10]. It should be mentioned that here "quantum mechanics" is understood in its broad sense, something like "quantum theory", including particle physics and quantum field theory, in addition to what is commonly thought as "quantum mechanics", in the narrow sense, in the elementary quantum mechanics text books2. And this is another reason why contrary to classical mechanics or electromagnetism, we cannot consider it as a definite body of concrete laws or a set of limited subject matter-it has a very wide scope. Quantum mechanics is "microscopic" in the sense that it is describing the micro structure of the universe, and it is "fundamental" in the sense that it cannot be reduced to any other theory dealing with physical reality [11]. However, the ambiguity in the quantum mechanics definition neither prevents us from studying time reversal symmetry, as the main subject of our interest here, nor decreases the importance of this question. 1.5. The Problem and its Significance Are quantum phenomena time reversal invariant or not? Why and how? These are the questions we are trying to answer in this thesis. By "quantum phenomena", we mean all quantum processes or transitions which are taken into account in the quantum mechanics 2 As an illustrative example of elementary quantum mechanics text book, please see Introduction to Quantum Mechanics by David Griffiths (1982). Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 10 discussed above. In other words, for a phenomenon to act according to quantum mechanics means that it can be described or explained within the context of quantum mechanics. Obviously, these definitions suffer from ambiguity in more or less the same way the quantum mechanics definition does. As was mentioned before in the definition of time reversal invariance for the processes and theories, if all processes admitted by a theory, in our case quantum mechanics, are time reversal invariant, then the theory is said to be time reversal invariant. But what is the real importance of this question and why should we care about it? In the beginning, I mentioned some well-known problems related to the question of the nature of time and its role in the physics, like problems of the direction of time, reversibility, backward causation and time travel. They are closely related to our question. As an example, below I will briefly review its application in the problem of direction of time as is discussed by John Earman, then I will mention some of its other applications. Earman believes spacetime must be locally temporally orientable by arguing that "for any point p ∈ M a small enough neighbourhood N(p) can be chosen that N is simply connected, and any simply connected manifold with a Lorentz signature metric admits a continuous non-vanishing timelike vector field" [12]. But he notices that this does not rule out the possibility of some weird multiple connectivity in the large scale level that prohibits us from making a globally consistent distinction between past and future. The induction from local orientability to global orientability does not work because the former can hold everywhere without implying the latter [12]. But he claims that a more sophisticated kind of induction can help us to derive global orientability: Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 11 If the laws of physics are "universal" in the sense that they are the same in every region of spacetime, if by local investigations we manage to find (some of) the basic laws of physics, and if these laws are not time reversal invariant, then we can infer that in our universe there is a globally consistent distinction between past and future. Roughly the idea is this. Choose any closed path in the spacetime. Suppose for purposes of reductio that the transport of a timelike vector around some such path by some method that is continuous and keeps timelike vectors timelike results in a flip in time sense when the vector returns to the starting point. Along this path choose a chain of overlapping simply connected neighbourhoods. Use the failure of time reversal invariance of the laws to pick out the future direction of time in each of these neighbourhoods. ... Thus the future direction picked out in two adjacent neighbourhoods N and N' must agree in the overlap N∩N'. But by the reductio assumption this agreement must fail when the chain of neighbourhoods closes. Since a contradiction has been reached the reductio assumption must be false and the spacetime is globally temporally orientable [12]. He claims that the above argument makes us certain that our universe is temporally orientable. Furthermore, he claims that our universe is actually temporally oriented by adding the fact that "a temporal orientation is needed to sort the dynamically possible from the dynamically impossible histories when time reversal invariance fails" [12]. This was a summary of Earman's argument in the favor of the direct role of time reversal noninvariance in the problem of direction of time. Below I quote some of its other applications by Robert Sachs [2]: As far as is known at present, the electromagnetic and strong interactions responsible for the structure and general dynamic behavior of atoms and atomic nuclei are invariant under time reversal. This invariance has important consequences for the properties of stationary states, scattering and reaction amplitudes, and (electromagnetic) radiative transitions of such systems. ... they Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 12 may be used to test the assumption that these or other interactions are in fact T invariant. Usually in quantum mechanics there are associated with the invariance of Hamiltonian a conservation law and some degree of degeneracy of the energy states. Invariance of the Hamiltonian under T has different implications. Because T is anti-unitary rather than unitary, it is not directly related to a Hermitian observable, and the invariance does not lead to a conservation law. There is an implication of twofold degeneracy (Keramer's Degeneracy) for "odd" systems ... and there are additional implications for the stationary states of any multiparticle system. The latter may be expressed as reality conditions on the wave functions... We discussed some necessary and prerequisite points about time reversal invariance in this introductory chapter. In the next chapter, the standard account of time reversal invariance in the classical mechanics, electromagnetism and quantum mechanics will be discussed, with the focus on quantum mechanics. Also, I will describe my own account of time reversal invariance comparing it with the standard one, and argue why my account deserves attention. In chapter 3, I will review three known ways yielding to Tviolation in quantum mechanics, and then in chapter 4, I will explain two important experiments made to detect T-violation in the neutral K and B mesons. In the conclusion, I highlight the major points emerging form this thesis. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 13 CHAPTER II TIME REVERSAL INVARIANCE I begin this chapter by exploring the common understanding of time reversal symmetry in the classical mechanics, electromagnetism and especially quantum mechanics. Then, I will discuss the general concept of time reversal invariance and its two main accounts, namely the standard account and Albert's account. I will present and examine my own alternative account of time reversal at the end. Also based on the invariance of the Schrödinger equation under time reversal transformation specific to quantum mechanics, I will briefly examine time reversal in the three main interpretations of quantum mechanics. 2.1. Time Reversal Invariance in Classical Mechanics What is a time reversal transformation? Assume we film a pendulum clock in action. If the film is played in reverse, the result will be a new "reversed" motion of clock's hands and pendulum. This is what we intuitively think of as a time reversal transformation. But how is this transformation described mathematically? In the Newtonian formulation of classical mechanics, it is merely the reversal of the order of events in a trajectory x(t). In other words, if x(t) is the curve depicting the position of the pendulum over time, then the time-reversed trajectory is given by x(−t) [13]. We can easily see the requirement that F(x; t) = F(x; −t) to guarantee time reversal invariance in Newtonian mechanics is equivalent to requiring x(−t) to satisfy Newton's equation whenever x(t) does. However, in the Hamiltonian formulation, where q denotes the position and p denotes the momentum of a given particle, reversing the order Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 14 of events in a trajectory (q(t), p(t)) is not enough. Besides that, it needs to reverse momentum while preserving position: T(q, p) = (q, −p). Here, the requirement that H(q, p) = H(q,−p) + k (for some k ∈ R) to guarantee time reversal invariance in Hamiltonian mechanics is the same as requiring (q(−t),−p(−t)) to satisfy Hamilton's equations whenever (q(t), p(t)) does [13]. 2.1.1. When Classical Mechanics Is Time Reversal Invariant? We have seen the naïve claim that classical mechanics is time reversal invariant many times in the elementary textbooks on the classical mechanics. But it is easy to find a counterexample: a classical system with a so-called "dissipative" force. For example, Newton's laws, as well as Hamilton's equations, allow trajectories in which a mass moves along a smooth surface, suffering from the friction force, until finally stops [13]. However, we know that the time-reversed trajectory of a mass suddenly accelerating from rest is not a possible solution to the Newton's laws or Hamilton's equations. Thus we need to limit our claim scope: "Classical mechanical systems that are 'conservative' are also time reversal invariant" [13]. Here, the truth of this claim depends on the exact definition of the term "conservative." Below, two common definitions are considered, and it is shown that they are not sufficient to guarantee time reversal invariance of the system under description. Finally, a sufficient definition is suggested. "No free work" definition of a conservative system: this is a common textbook definition of a conservative system in the Newtonian formulation. This definition employs the quantity of work required to move a system between two points 1 and 2: Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 15 W<M = u F. dx M < According to this definition, if the trajectory between points 1 and 2 is a closed loop (i.e. W = ∮F. dx), then W = 0. Thus, a conservative system does not admit "free work", or if a process ends in the exact starting state, then total work done is zero. If the force field is such that the work W<M is equal for any path between points 1 and 2, then the force and the system is called to be conservative in this sense [13]. "dH dty = 0" definition of a conservative system: this is another standard definition of a "conservative" system, but this time in the Hamiltonian mechanics. Here, the Hamiltonian H is often interpreted as total energy of a system. In principle, "conservative" implies that H is a conserved quantity, or dH dty = 0 [13]. However, the first definition is not sufficient to guarantee time reversal invariance. This is a simple example: take a particle in 3-dimensional space, with position x and velocity ??. Suppose the particle is subject to a force field defined by, F = x × ?? that is, the force on the particle is orthogonal to both its position and velocity vectors. This system is "conservative" in the first sense. The reason is that F, the cross product of x and ??, is orthogonal to x, and hence to dx. So, the line integral characterizing work W4 along any path P is zero [13]. Nevertheless, the system is not time reversal invariant. This is because the system moves in a preferred direction, i.e. the direction orthogonal to x and ?? given by the right hand rule. But under time reversal, the velocity vector is reversed and so that referred Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 16 direction is not preserved. To check this formally, we can see that F(x,−t) = x × (−??) = −F(x, t). So F(x, −t) ≠ F(x, t), and time reversal invariance fails. Thus, being conservative in this sense is not sufficient for time reversal invariance [13]. Also, the second definition may fail to result in time reversal invariance. There are many conservative systems of this type that break time reversal invariance. For example, consider a particle described by the somewhat unphysical Hamiltonian H = ‖p‖. It can be shown that for this Hamiltonian, dH dty = ∂H ∂ty = 0, therefore this system is conservative in the required sense. However, since H(q, −p) ≠ H(q, p) + k, the system is not time reversal invariant [13]. Thus we have seen that there are various ways in which a system that is conservative in the broad sense of "conserving energy" violates time reversal invariance. To guarantee time reversal invariance, a stronger condition is needed. In the context of Newtonian mechanics, some people define a conservative system to be one in which all forces have a particular functional form: F = −∇V(x) that is, a force which can be expressed as the gradient of a time-independent potential V. In this definition, Newton's equation is obviously time reversal invariant, because the right hand side of the above formula has no time-dependence, and consequently F(x, t) = F(x, −t) [2, 13]. 2.2. Time Reversal Invariance in Electromagnetism To study time reversal in electromagnetism we ask how the quantities involved in the Maxwell's equations transform under time reversal, or replacing t with −t. As we have Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 17 seen in the previous section, the time reverse of a particle moving from point 1 to 2 is a particle moving from point 2 to 1, implying that its velocity v must flip sign under time reversal. We know that J = ρv, and that the charge density ρ is invariant under time reversal, because it is not supposed to be time dependent, neither directly like v = dxdt, nor indirectly like spin. Consequently the electric current density J will flip sign under time reversal as well [14]. So now let's look at Maxwell's equations in Gaussian units convention: ∇ ∙ E = 4πρ ∇ × E = − 1 c ∂B ∂t ∇ ∙ B = 0 ∇ × B = 1 c ‹4πJ + ∂E ∂tŒ How do electric field E and magnetic field B change under time reversal? Here, we can see that Maxwell's equations do not (uniquely) determine the sign of E and B after replacing t with – t. However, the common assumption among physicists is that electromagnetism is invariant under time reversal. Given this assumption, in addition to the above points that J flips sign under time reversal but ρ does not change, Maxwell's equations imply that the electric field E is invariant under time reversal, while the magnetic field B negates [14]. So given the common assumption of the time reversal invariance of the electromagnetism, the related quantities transform under time reversal as below: v # → −v J # → −J Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 18 ρ Ž → ρ E # → E B # → −B 2.3. Time Reversal Invariance in Quantum Mechanics To begin the discussion of time reversal in quantum mechanics, most of the textbooks assume three myths [15]: Myth 1. The preservation of transition probabilities (|〈Tψ, Tφ〉| = |〈ψ, φ〉|) is a definitional feature of time reversal, with no further physical or mathematical justification ... Myth 2. The anti-unitary character of time reversal can only be established by fiat, or by appeal to particular transformation rules for 'position' and 'momentum' ... Myth 3. The way that position and momentum transform under time reversal can only be justified by appeal to their classical analogues ... However, Bryan Roberts tries to dispel these myths by presenting his own reasoned three-step plan which is aimed at bringing about the very results which these myths do in a dogmatic manner. Let's see a summary of Roberts' three-step plan to construct T in a clear and systematic way: in the first step, he employs the fact that the direction of time is irrelevant to the question of whether or not two states are orthogonal. As he points out, this fact implies that T should be unitary or anti-unitary. A unitary operator is a bijection T: H → H that satisfies these two conditions: 1) (adjoint inverse) T∗T = T T∗ = I. 2) (linearity) T(ɑψ + bφ) = aTψ + aTφ for any ψ,φ ∈ H. And an anti-unitary operator is a bijection T: H → H that satisfies these two conditions: Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 19 1) (adjoint inverse) T∗T = T T∗ = I. 2) (anti-linearity) T(ɑψ + bφ) = a∗Tψ + b∗Tφ for any ψ, φ ∈ H. The second step assumes that there exists at least one physically plausible non-trivial system that is time reversal invariant. As he establishes, this assumption yields the result that T is anti-unitary. The third step is based on the reasonable assumption that the meaning of T is independent of translations or rotations in space, representing two kinds of familiar symmetry transformations. He uses this assumption to derive aforementioned transformation rules for desired observables, i.e. position, momentum and spin [15]. 2.3.1. First Step His first step is based on the Uhlhorn's and Wigner's theorems (see below). Assuming Uhlhorn's theorem, Roberts uses Wigner's theorem to conclude that transformations like time reversal T (and rotation, translation, etc.), can always be represented either by a unitary operator or by an anti-unitary one [15]. Uhlhorn Theorem. Let T3 be any bijection on the ray space Y of a separable Hilbert space H with dimension greater than 2. Suppose that Ψ⟘Φ if and only if TΨ ⊥ TΦ. Then, 〈TΨ,TΦ〉 = 〈Ψ,Φ〉. Moreover, there exists a unique (up to a constant) T:H → H that implements T on H, in the sense that ψ ∈ Ψ iff Tψ ∈ TΨ, and which satisfies (|〈Tψ, Tφ〉| = |〈ψ, φ〉|) for all ψ,φ ∈ H [13]. As Roberts says, 3 In [13], [15], and [18], Roberts does not denote vector and scalar variables differently. He uses italic (nonbold) letters for both. So in the direct quotes from him, bold letters do not denote vectors. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 20 The intuition underlying Uhlhorn's condition is that if we film a physical system that allows these two properties, then the two propositions remain mutually exclusive no matter whether the film is playing forward or in reverse. The facts about mutual exclusivity should be independent of anything to do with the facts about the direction of time [13]. Wigner Theorem. For any T satisfying the Uhlhorn Theorem, there exists a Hilbert space operator T that implements it which is either unitary or anti-unitary [16]. 2.3.2. Second Step Firstly, Roberts argues, The time-reversing transformations can be minimally identified as bijections on the set of trajectories ψ(t) = eG?9¡ ψ that take the form, ψ(t) → Tψ(−t) = Te?9¡ψ, where T at this point is an arbitrary unitary or anti-unitary operator, possibly even the identity operator [13]. Then, in the next move which is a little bit tricky, he says that if T is a true symmetry transformation, the equation ψ(t) = eG?9¡ψ must be valid for any transformed trajectory too. If we denote the transformed trajectories Tψ(−t) = Te?9¡ψ by φ(t), we must have the same unitary law, φ(t) = eG?9¡φ. Now by replacing φ(t) with Te?9¡ψ in the left side of the last equation, we have Te?9¡ψ = eG?9¡φ. And recalling (t) ≔ Tψ(−t) = Te?9¡ψ, we conclude that φ = Tψ, and so Te?9¡ψ = eG?9¡φ = eG?9¡Tψ. Thus finally we have: Te?9¡ψ = eG?9¡Tψ for all ψ. However, this equation does not apply to all Hamiltonians, e.g. the Hamiltonians describing the weak interactions [13, 15]. But according to Roberts, "...we do suppose that at least one of these Hamiltonians-perhaps a particularly simple one with no Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 21 interactions-is T-reversal invariant. This turns out to be enough to establish that T is antiunitary" [15]. This is done by employing the last equation in the below proposition. Proportion 1. Let T be a unitary or anti-unitary bijection on a separable Hilbert space H. Suppose there exists at least one density-defined self-adjoint operator H on H that satisfies the following conditions. (i) (positive) 0 ≤ 〈ψ,Hψ〉 for all ψ in the domain of H. (ii) (non-trivial) H is not the zero operator. (iii) (T-reversal invariant) Te?9¡ψ = eG?9¡Tψ for all ψ. Then T is anti-unitary. Proof. Condition (iii) implies that e?9¡ = TeG?9¡TG< = eŽ(G?9¡)Ž¤¥. Moreover, Stone's theorem guarantees the generator of unitary group e?9¡ is unique when H is self-adjoint. So itH = −TitHTG<. Now, suppose for reductio that T is unitary, and hence linear. Then we can conclude from the above that itH = −itTHTG<, and hence THTG< = −H. Since unitary operators preserve inner products, this gives, 〈ψ, Hψ〉 = 〈Tψ, THψ〉 = −〈Tψ,HTψ〉. But condition (i) implies both 〈ψ, Hψ〉 and 〈Tψ,HTψ〉 are non-negative so we have, 0 ≤ 〈ψ,Hψ〉 = −〈Tψ,HTψ〉 ≤ 0. It follows that 〈ψ, Hψ〉 = 0 for all ψ in the domain of H. Since H is defined, this is only possible if H is the zero operator, contradicting Condition (ii). Therefore, since T is not unitary, it can only be anti-unitary. [15] The inference is based on the assumption that there is at least one possible dynamical system-not necessarily even a realized one-that is time reversal invariant. If there is such a system, then time reversal can only be anti-unitary [15]. 2.3.3. Third Step According to Roberts, the anti-unitarity of time reversal and the canonical commutation relations are not enough to guarantee these transformation rules: Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 22 Q → Q P → −P σ → −σ where Q, P and σ are position, momentum and spin observables, respectively. To satisfy these conditions, Roberts just relies on the general and plausible assumptions that space is homogeneous and isotropic under time reversal. He derives the first two transformation rules from the former and the last one from the latter [15]. Suppose that UI, V¬, and R± are generators of spatial translations, boosts in velocity and spatial rotation, respectively. Now let's explain the above assumptions. Consider these three propositions [15]: a) "If we first time reverse a state and then translate it, the result is the same as when we first translate and then time reverse", or UITψ = TUIψ. b) "If we time reverse a system and then apply a boost in velocity, then this is the same as if we had boosted in the opposite spatial direction and then applied time reversal", or V¬Tψ = TVG¬ψ. c) If we first time reverse a system and then rotate it, then this is the same as if we first rotate it and then time reverse, or R±Tψ = TR±ψ. Space is homogeneous under time reversal in the sense that propositions (or equations) a and b both hold. Space is isotropic under time reversal in the sense that proposition (or equation) c holds. I neither want to go into the details of the mathematical structure of the three generators mentioned above, nor the mathematics of the equations a, b, and c after applying those details. I just mention the final results of each of the above cases by referring to its corresponding uppercase letter [15]: Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 23 A) TQTG< = Q or Q Ž → Q. B) TPTG< = −P or P Ž → −P. C) TσTG< = −σ or σ Ž → −σ. He derives these transformations rules without appealing to anything other than the assumption of homogeneity and isotropy of space under time reversal. It can be easily shown that in the Schrödinger wavefuncation representation in which Qψ(x) = xψ(x) and Pψ(x) = i 2 2F ψ(x), the time reversal transformation, T = K implements A and B transformation rules, where K is the conjugation operator, Kψ(x) = ψ∗(x). As Roberts proves, T is unique up to a constant, i.e. it is the only way we can define T, not just a possible way [15]. In addition, Roberts proves that there is a unique T (up to a constant), T = σMK which implements the transformation rule C for half-spin particles. Here, σM is the second Pauli matrix μ0 −ii 0 ¶, and K is the conjugation operator mapping ψ = α < _1 + β _ <1 to its conjugate ψ∗ = α∗ <_1 + β ∗ _<1. To double-check, we can easily see that both above Ts are anti-unitary, as expected [15]. This was a very short summary of Roberts' three-step plan for constructing T, the time reversal operator in quantum mechanics. 2.4. Discussion In this section, first, I will discuss two well-known accounts of time reversal, namely the standard account and Albert's account, and then I will present my own Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 24 alternative account and compare it with the standard one. At the end, I will examine time reversal invariance of three main interpretations of quantum mechanics based on the time reversal invariance of Schrödinger equation. 2.4.1. Three Accounts of Time Reversal Invariance As we have seen in the three previous sections of this chapter, it seems that time reversal not only reverses the order of instantaneous states, but also affects the variables constituting those states, for example, it negates velocity, magnetic field and spin. So it means that the conception of time reversal presented in the introductory chapter must be modified. However, some people like Albert think no modification is needed, namely they argue that time reversal must just reverse the order of instantaneous states, leaving the variables of the states unaffected. Their main reason is that it does not make sense to change the content of the instantaneous states under time reversal, because instantaneous states are just a description of the system in a given instant. Logically, the descriptions of instantaneous states must be independent of the direction of time, if they are truly captured in a single instant, and not in an interval of time, as they claim [4]. According to Albert, only classical mechanics is time reversal invariant, and electromagnetism and quantum mechanics are not. In his view, the representation of the instantaneous states must just include the variables which are independent of each other. Velocity, for example, must not be included in the representation of the instantaneous states because it can be derived out of position and so is not an independent variable. Thus, in classical mechanics, instantaneous states include only position, which is invariant under time reversal, implying that classical mechanics is time reversal invariant [4]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 25 As we have seen before, the magnetic field must be negated by negating t, otherwise Maxwell's equations would not be invariant under t-negation. But according to Albert's view, the magnetic field as an independent variable, included in the representation of instantaneous states, must remain unchanged in the reversed sequence of states. This implies that, electromagnetism is not time reversal invariant, because the Maxwell's equations are violated in the reversed sequence of states. The situation is the same in the quantum mechanics, because on the one hand, momentum and spin are required to be negated as is argued in the third step of the derivation of time reversal transformation in the previous section. But on the other hand, Albert's account of time reversal leaves these independent variables unchanged in the reverse sequence of quantum states [4]. The common objection to Albert's view is that even in a truly instantaneous state, the variables can be affected by reversing the direction of time, if they are inherently, and not necessarily explicitly, sensitive to the direction of time, as magnetic field and spin are. That is to say, in principle, a variable can to be sensitive to the direction of time even if it is not the time rate of change of another quantity. This conception of time reversal which allows one to operate on the states' variables is the most popular account among physicists and philosophers, and so is called the standard view [15]. According to this standard view, a theory is time reversal invariant if for any sequence of instantaneous states ... , S(t_), S(t<), S(tM),... allowed by the theory, the reverse sequence of time-reversed states, ... , SŽ(tM), SŽ(t<), SŽ(t_),... is also allowed, where T is the appropriate time reversal operator. Here, the time reversal operator T is theory-dependent, and as is expected, negates velocity in classical mechanics, magnetic field in electromagnetism and momentum and spin in quantum mechanics [15]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 26 An objection to the standard account of time reversal invariance is that T somehow makes this definition trivial. It is argued that in principle, for any theory it is possible to construct a T which makes the theory time reversal invariant, regardless of whether or not the theory is actually considered by the standard view as time reversal invariant [14]. In the literature, you can hardly find a real example of such T suggested for a theory which is commonly regarded as time reversal non-invariant, but it seems that nothing rules out this possibility. However, this mere possibility is not considered a serious problem for the standard view. So let's explore it in more detail. Suppose there is a finite physical process called A starting at t_ and ending at t`. The process A can be represented by subsequent instantaneous states of S(t?), where 0 < i < n. Also suppose that we have two kinds of arrows, one of them is the process-arrow and the other one is the time-arrow. The former is depicted by a thin (white) and the latter by a thick (blue or green) arrow in figure 4. The process-arrow is just an imaginary arrow Figure 4. Two accounts of time reversal applied on the process A: (a) Standard account, (b) Alternative account. "Time-arrows" are depicted by thick (blue or green) arrows and "process-arrows" are depicted by thin (white) arrows. S(t0), S(t1), S(t2), ... , S(ti), ... , S(tN) ?⃗? ST(tN), ... , ST(ti), ... , ST(t2), ST(t1), ST(t0) S(tN), ... , S(ti), ... , S(t2), S(t1), S(t0) Process A (a) Standard time reversal of Process A (b) An alternative time reversal of Process A ?⃗? tʹÂ⃗ = −?⃗? Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 27 pointing to the direction in which i is ascending, and the time-arrow points to the direction in which time is flowing. As you see in figure 4, the top arrow in blue encompasses the subsequent instantaneous states of process A, such that the process-arrow and the time-arrow are parallel and both point to the right. The one below represents the time reversal of process A as the standard account of time reversal suggests, i.e. the direction of time is kept fixed while the T operator is applied to the inversely ordered instantaneous states of process A. This is why it can be said that the standard account describes a kind of reversal in time, not a reversal of time. It can be easily observed that the time-arrow and the process-arrow are antiparallel in this case. Notice that in the special condition which T is the identity operator, this case would be reduced to the Albert's account of time reversal. Figure 5 shows two quantum processes, the left one is a spin-up electron moving along +x direction, and the right one is a spin-down electron moving along −x direction. These two processes are the time reverse of each other according to the standard view, and that is why the spin of the electron is opposite in each case. However, we can have other x t x t Figure 5. Left Process: A spin-up electron moving along +x direction, Right Process: A spin-down electron moving along –x direction. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 28 alternative accounts of time reversal too, and I have my own, as is represented in figure 4b. According to this alternative view, both arrows of process A and time must be reversed, yielding to two parallel arrows pointing to the left. That is why it can be said that this alternative account describes a kind of reversal of time, rather than reversal in time. Thus the main difference between these two accounts of time reversal is this: according to the standard account, a process is invariant under time reversal if its reverse, interpreted in a certain sense, is also compatible with the laws of nature. But according to the alternative account, a process is invariant under time reversal if it is compatible with the laws of nature when the direction of time is reversed. Let's define the relative direction of time as the relative direction of process-arrow to the time-arrow, and the absolute direction of time simply as the direction of the timearrow. Given these definitions, we can say that in the standard account the relative direction of time is reversed, while the absolute direction of time is not changed. But in the alternative account, the relative direction of time is not changed, but the absolute direction x t'=−t Figure 6. Time reverse of the left process in the figure 5 according to my alternative view. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 29 of time is reversed. So, if we want to know if a certain process is sensitive to the absolute direction of time or not, the alternative view is more relevant and illuminating than the standard one. We can apply the alternative view to the left process in figure 5. The result is depicted in figure 6, showing a spin-up electron moving along the +x direction. In this account, we do not have time reversal operator T, so the states' variables do not change under this kind of time reversal transformation. But the situation is much more complicated if we want to see what happens for the equations of different theories in the alternative account. However, as far as the sign of t is concerned, it is not difficult to determine. I think unlike the standard account, the alternative account does not require changing the sign of t in the equations, because t in the equations represents the relative time, and in this account the relative direction of time is not changed. But the bigger issue is that it is not guaranteed that the same relations would hold between the variables, or even that the physical constants' values would not change if the absolute direction of time were reversed. It is also possible that we may have some new variables or (internal) degrees of freedom in complex theories if the absolute direction of time is reversed. Exploring all of these possibilities requires much work to be done. For the sake of simplicity, suppose that the constants' values and the relation between variables do not change by reversing the absolute direction of time. In the alternative account, it is not required to replace t by −t, it can be concluded that our theories are time reversal invariant if they do not require any new variable to model the phenomena in a universe in which time flows in the opposite direction to ours. It is odd to imagine new variables in classical Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 30 mechanics and electromagnetism because their ontology is (supposedly) not rich enough to admit them. Assuming these simplifications, it seems that classical mechanics and electromagnetism are time reversal invariant in the alternative sense. But quantum mechanics has a rich enough ontology to admit internal degrees of freedom. For example, imagine that an electron has another spin-like internal degree of freedom, which is sensitive to the absolute direction of time and affects its behavior, such that we need to add a new variable to quantum mechanics to model it. Without assuming some weird things as the violation of the uniformity of the constants' values and the relation between variables under time reversal, we can easily imagine that quantum mechanics is time reversal non-invariant. Although we cannot observe this kind of non-invariance of quantum mechanics until, for example in the above case, we can study an electron when the direction of time is actually reversed, this empirical difficulty does not mean that this account of time reversal does not deserve attention. On the contrary, I think the account of time reversal I presented here deserves serious attention, because as I tried to show, it provides us with deep insights into the rich and complex structure of quantum mechanics as our most fundamental theory. 2.4.2. Time Reversal Invariance of Various Interpretations of Quantum Mechanics As we know, there are various formulations and interpretations of quantum mechanics. Although "formulation" is mostly understood as the mathematical description of a theory and "interpretation" as its ontological or philosophical description, at least for a complex theory like quantum mechanics it is too difficult to sharply distinguish them Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 31 [17]. However, here I want to briefly examine time reversal invariance of the Schrödinger equation as the core equation of the wave function formulation of quantum mechanics, and I will shortly explore its implications for the three main types of the quantum mechanics' interpretations. We saw that according to the standard account of time reversal, the natural way of thinking about time reversal invariance is this: a theory is time reversal invariant if replacing t by −t does not change its equation(s). For example, Newton's second law of motion is second order in time, and so will remain unchanged by that replacement, implying the time reversal invariance of the classical mechanics: F = ma = dMx dtM ÅAEAEAEAEÇAEAEAEAEÈ LS 9→G9ÊËËÌ F = dMx (−dt)M = dMx dtMÅAEAEAEAEAEÇAEAEAEAEAEÈ RS ⇒ LS = RS But contrary to conventional wisdom, the Schrödinger equation is not time reversal invariant in this sense, because it is first order in time: Hψ = iħ ∂ψ ∂tÅAEAEAEÇAEAEAEÈ LS 9→G9ÊËËÌ Hψ = iħ ∂ψ −∂t = −iħ ∂ψ ∂tÅAEAEAEAEAEAEÇAEAEAEAEAEAEÈ RS ⇒ LS ≠ RS However, assuming that H is time-independent and real, it can be shown that if ψ(x, t) satisfies the Schrödinger equation, then ψ∗(x,−t) satisfies it too: Hψ(x, t) = iħ ∂ψ(x, t) ∂t ÑÒÒÒÒÒÒÓÒÒÒÒÒÒÔ (1) Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 32 ⇒ (Hψ(x, t))∗ = (iħ ∂ψ(x, t) ∂t ) ∗ ¡ ?Õ @:IC ÊËËËËÌ Hψ∗(x, t) = −iħ ∂ψ∗(x, t) ∂t 9→G9 ÊËËÌ Hψ∗(x,−t) = −iħ ∂ψ∗(x,−t) −∂t ⇒Hψ∗(x,−t) = iħ ∂ψ∗(x, −t) ∂tÅAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEÇAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEÈ (2) (<) IE2 (M) ÊËËËËËËÌ ψ(x, t) = ψ∗(x,−t) The last equality entails that the Schrödinger equation would be invariant under aforementioned time reversal transformation T = UK, where U is either 1 or σM and K is complex conjugation operator. In addition, it was shown before that: Q Ž → Q P Ž → − P σ Ž → − σ In favor of this sense of time reversal invariance, commonly it is argued that this transformation (T) is necessitated by the need to switch sign of momentum and spin under time reversal [10]. But some thinkers object to this claim by arguing that: There is no such necessitation. In quantum mechanics, momentum is a spatial derivative (−ih∇F) and spin is a kind of 'space quantization'. It does not logically follow, as it does in classical mechanics, that the momentum or spin must change signs when t→ −t. Nor does it logically follow from t→ −t that one must change ψ → ψ* [10]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 33 Is quantum mechanics symmetric under time reversal invariance after all? The Schrödinger equation is time reversal invariant in the modified sense mentioned above, but that does not necessarily imply quantum mechanics is time reversal invariance too. Simply, the reason is that some interpretations of the quantum mechanics modify or interrupt the Schrödinger evolution, while others do not. According to the Bell dilemma4, there are at least three different types of interpretation of the quantum mechanics: 1) hidden variable interpretations5, 2) collapse interpretations6, and 3) Everett-style interpretations7. Let's now explore the implications of the time reversal invariance of the Schrödinger equation for the invariance of these three types of interpretations under time reversal. While the first type adds something to the Schrödinger evolution, these additions are somehow linked to the quantum state and so inherit the same invariances the quantum state does. For example, in Bohmian mechanics the particles' velocities are a function of the quantum state, and so due to the aforementioned fact that the state is not sensitive to complex conjugation, the velocities are not sensitive to the complex conjugation too. However, the second type of interpretations are not time reversal invariant, because the Schrödinger evolution is interrupted according to these interpretations. Generally, when the wave function collapses to one of the measurement observable's eigenstates, there is no way back to the initial uncollapsed state. But interpretations of the last type will be time 4 "Either the wave function, as given by the Schrödinger equation, is not everything, or it is not right" [17]. 5 "These are approaches that involve a denial that a quantum wave function (or any other way of representing a quantum state) yields a complete description of a physical system" [17]. 6 "These are approaches that involve modification of the dynamics to produce a collapse of the wave function in appropriate circumstances" [17]. 7 "These are approaches that reject both horns of Bell's dilemma, and hold that quantum states undergo unitary evolution at all times and that a quantum state-description is, in principle, complete" [17]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 34 reversal invariant because they do not add anything to the Schrödinger evolution which is itself time reversal invariant [10]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 35 CHAPTER III TIME REVERSAL INVARIANCE VIOLATION IN QUANTUM MECHANICS According to Roberts, there are three existing ways to T-violation. As he states [18]: (1) T-Violation by Curie's Principle. Pierre Curie declared that there is never an asymmetric effect without an asymmetric cause. This idea, together with the so-called CPT theorem, provided the road to the very first detection of T-violation in the 20th century. (2) T-Violation by Kabir's Principle. Pasha Kabir pointed that, whenever the probability of an ordinary particle decay A → B differs from that of the time-reversed decay B′ → A′, then we have T-violation. This provides a second road. (3) T-Violation by Wigner's Principle. Certain kinds of matter, such as an elementary electric dipole, turn out to be T -violating because they have an appropriate non-degenerate energy state. This provides the final road, although it has not yet led to a successful detection of T -violation. 3.1. T-violation by Curie's Principle Here, we are not interested in the original formulation of the Curie's Principle, but its version which is applicable in the quantum mechanics, as Roberts formulates it [18]: If a quantum state fails to have a linear symmetry, then that asymmetry must also be found in either the initial state, or else in the dynamical laws. A state has X linear symmetry if it is X-even, i.e. it is invariant under X linear transformation. The transformation X is linear if X(ɑψ + bφ) = aXψ + aXφ, for any given states of ψ and φ. Transformations C, P, and CP are linear, while as we have seen before, T is anti-linear. If we have an initial state which is even/odd under one of Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 36 these linear transformations, but the final state is odd/even under it, then according to the above principle, the dynamical laws governing the process violate the linear symmetry associated to it [18]. Roberts suggests a very clear mathematical formulation of this statement [18]: (Unitary Curie Principle). Let U9 = e?9¡be a continuous unitary group on a Hilbert space H, and R:H → H be a linear bijection. Let ψ? ∈ H (an "initial state") and ψB = e?9¡ψ? (a "final state") for some t ∈ R. If either (1) (initial but not final) Rψ? = ψ? but RψB ≠ ψB , or (2) (final but not initial) RψB = ψB but Rψ? ≠ ψ?, then, (3) (R-violation) [R,H] ≠ 0. A real example (discovered by Cronin and Fitch in 1964): let's designate longlived neutral K mesons (kaons) by KL. It is observed in the experiments that it decays to two pions (KL → πÞπG). Also it is known that πÞπG is CP-odd, while KL is CP-even. So according to the Curie's Principle, the laws governing this decay (certain weak interactions), must be CP-violating [5, 18]. The next step in this way to T-violation is applying the CPT symmetry theorem, which says that in quantum theory as is understood -describable in terms of local fields, and a unitary representation of the Poincaré group- the laws must obey CPT symmetry. It means that if a certain decay of KL is CP-violating, it must be T-violating too, otherwise CPT symmetry would be violated [18]. This was a very short overview of an approach to T-violation which employs Curie's Principle and CPT theorem. Roberts mentions advantages as well as disadvantages of this approach in his view. The advantages are that it is easy and general. It is easy because one does not need know the laws (e.g. Hamiltonians or Lagrangians) connecting Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 37 the initial and final states, and it is general because it can be shown that Curie's Principle is extendable to the non-unitary quantum theory, assuming that we can relax the precondition of unitarity in the application of the CPT theorem. The disadvantages are that it is indirect and dependent on the validity of the CPT theorem. It is an indirect way to Tviolation detection because we cannot apply Curie's Principle directly to T as an anti-linear transformation. In principle, CPT symmetry can be violated in some non-standard models of particle physics making this approach inapplicable and of limited use [18]. 3.2. T-violation by Kabir's Principle Like the first way, the second way to T-violation is also based on a symmetry principle, called Kabir's Principle. Roberts states it [18]: If a transition ψ?E → ψAss9 occurs with different probability than the timereversed transition Tψout → Tψin , then the laws describing those transitions must be T-violating. This formulation seems precise and clear enough, so I do not go through the mathematical details. However, it should be noted that it needs unitarity as a condition. There are two successful experiments: by CPLEAR collaboration at CERN (1998) and BABAR collaboration at Stanford (2012) which show direct detection of Tviolation in the K and B mesons, respectively [6, 7, 18]. The neutral K mesons have two special property: First, K_ and Kâ_ transform to each other repeatedly, or K_ ⇆ Kâ_. Second, always it is possible to set the phase so that: TK_ = K_ and TKâ_ = Kâ_ [18]. This means that any kaon is time-reversed of itself (up to a phase e?ä). It seems that these two properties provide us Kabir's Principle preconditions, i.e. we have both K_ → Kâ_ and Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 38 its reverse Kâ_ → K_, while each of K_ and Kâ_ is time-reversed of itself, which means that we also have TKâ_ → TK_. According to the Kabir's Principle, if we can observe an imbalance in these two transition's occurrences, it is an actual case of T-violation [18, 20]. The CPLEAR experiment observing such an imbalance is described in the next part. In a general view, the story is similar in the case of B mesons. The main advantage of this method is that unlike the previous method, it provides a direct measurement of T-violation. Also, it does not require us to know much about the laws governing the transitions. The other advantage is that contrary to the previous method, it does not rely on the CPT theorem, so it could be generalized to the CPT-violating extensions of the standard model. But, its limitation is that we cannot apply it in cases which do not have unitary dynamics [18]. 3.3. T-violation by Wigner's Principle As Roberts says, this route to T-violation is not as well-known as the two previous ones. Actually, it is trying to discover some "exotic new properties of matter" [18]. He first gives a simple, but popular example in this field and then states the Wigner's Principle and discusses the physical and mathematical aspects of it. His example is the Electric Dipole Moment (EDM): that is "the displacement between two opposite charges, or within a distribution of charges." Consider this as a Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 39 property of an elementary particle. The neutron is the most well-known candidate, although this theoretically possible property has not yet been experimentally detected in it8, nor in any other (elementary) particle [18]. Consider a particle having EDM as is shown in figure 7. Such a particle both violates T and P symmetries. The simple reason is that magnetic moment (μ) negates under T but not electric moment (d), and electric moment negates under P but not magnetic moment, so in both transformations the relative direction of electric and magnetic moments to each other would be changed compared to the original situation, indicating clear cases of asymmetries. It is easy to verify that if the electric moment vanishes this argument no longer holds [18]. 8 The Standard Model prediction for neutron-EDM is |d| < 10Gç< e. cm, and the current experimental limit is |d| < 3 × 10GMé e. cm, which is negligible. Figure 7. A particle having EDM violates both P and T symmetries: d negates under P but not μ (top-right), and μ negates under T but not d (bottom-right). From [19]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 40 Roberts explains the T-violation in a slightly different way: assume H_ as the interaction-free Hamiltonian of such a particle, and J as its angular momentum. If we put it in an electric field E, then the Hamiltonian describing the system will be: H = H_ + J ⋅ E By reversing time, E will remain unaffected, while J will be negated. H will not be conserved under time reversal, and represents an obvious case of T-violation [18]. Here, the underpinning principle is Wigner's Principle [20]. Roberts states two or three somewhat different versions of it, but here I will focus on the first one because it is a little bit easier. In my opinion, his treatment is somehow confusing. Below I try to make it simpler while not missing the important details. (Wigner's Principle). If there is an eigenstate of the Hamiltonian such that: (1) that state is non-degenerate, and (2) time reversal maps that state to a different ray, then we have T-violation, in that [T, H] = 0 [18]. It is necessary to know the concepts of "degeneracy" and "ray" to understand this tricky principle [18]: A system is called degenerate if its Hamiltonian has distinct energy states with the same energy eigenvalue. An intuitive example of a degenerate system is the free particle on a string: the particle can either move to the left, or to the right, and have the same kinetic energy either way. When there are multiple distinct eigenstates with the same eigenvalue, those eigenstates are called degenerate states. ... But it was Wigner showed the much deeper relationship between degeneracy and time reversal invariance. Let H be a separable Hilbert space. A ray of H is a set of vectors in H related by a constant of unit length. We will write vectors in lower-case, and rays in upper-case Greek letters. Hence, Ψ ∶= {φ | φ = cψ, |c| = 1} is a ray, consisting of unit multiples of the vector. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 41 It seems that condition (1) is clear now. But condition (2) needs more clarification. The mathematical way of representing the condition (2) in a more general form, stated by Roberts, is Tψ ≠ e?±ψ. Mapping a state to a different ray means that T non-trivially acts on the ψ and multiplies it by a constant which its magnitude is not unity, and so makes the measurement probability of Tψ different than measurement probability of ψ [13, 18]. However, other than multiplying by such a constant, for example, T can conjugate ψ or affect (some of) its internal degree(s) of freedom, like reversing its spin. This is exactly what happens in the case of our time reversal operator, which conjugates the ψ and negates the spins and of course, momenta [13]. Here we can rewrite the Wigner's Principle as follows [18]: (Wigner's Principle). Let H be a self-adjoint operator on a finite-dimensional Hilbert space, which is not the zero operator. Let T be an anti-unitary bijection. If there exist an eigenvector ψ of H such that, (1) Tψ ≠ e?±ψ for any complex unit e?± , and (2) Every eigenvector orthogonal to ψ has a different eigenvalue, then, (3) (T-violation) [T, H] ≠ 0. My understanding of the principle is that in a time symmetric system, T cannot change the measurement probabilities. But there is an exception to this rule: in a time symmetric system having degenerate eigenstates, T can change the measurement probabilities of the degenerate eigenstates. In this case, although the measurement probabilities might change, this does not affect the outcome of our measurements. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 42 This is because the initial eigenstate (ψ) and the eigenstate which the initial eigenstate is transformed to (Tψ) are each other's time-flipped degenerate eigenstates having the same eigenvalue and so resulting in equal measurement outcomes. A system is time asymmetric if T changes the measurement probability of a non-degenerate eigenstate of the Hamiltonian. Thus, in a time reversal symmetric system a state and its time-flipped nondegenerate state cannot have different measurement probabilities. A time symmetric system, however, can give rise to two different measurement probabilities for the same outcome (eigenvalue) when we measure a state and its time-flipped degenerate state. Now let's look at the Wigner's Principle proof. Roberts offers an indirect proof for it, namely he proves the contrapositive, by assuming the failure of (3), and then showing the existence of a vector violating either (1) or (2). This is the procedure: for a nonzero h and some eigenvector ψ of unit norm, let Hψ = hψ. Recall that T is anti-unitary and so has unit norm. Then, suppose (3) fails, and hence [H, T] = 0. Then H(Tψ ) = THψ = h(Tψ ). This means that if ψ is any eigenvector of H with eigenvalue h, then Tψ is an eigenvector with the same eigenvalue. By the spectral theorem, the eigenvectors of H form an orthonormal basis set. So, since ψ and Tψ are both unit eigenvectors, either Tψ = e?±ψ or 〈Tψ,ψ〉 = 0. The latter violates condition (2), and the former violates the condition (1). Therefore, either (1) or (2) must fail [18]. Now let's turn back to the EDM. According to Roberts, EDM is specified by these three properties [18]: Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 43 (1) (Permanence) There is an observable D representing the dipole moment that is "permanent", in that < ψ,Dψ > = a > 0 for every eigenvector ψ of the Hamiltonian H. Since this ψ(t) does not change over time except for a phase factor, permanence means that < ψ,Dψ > = a has the same nonzero value for all times t, whence its name. (2) (Isotropic Dynamics) Assuming that we have elementary particle, its simplest interactions are assumed to be isotropic, in that time evolution commutes with all rotations, [eG?9¡,R±] = 0. Note that if J is the "angular momentum" observable that generates the rotation R± = e?±ô , then this is equivalent to the statement that [T, H] = 0. (3) (Time Reversal Properties) Time reversal, as always, is an anti-unitary operator. It has no effect on the electric dipole observable (TDTG< = D) when viewed as a function of position. But it does reverse the sign of angular momentum (TJTG< = −J), since spinning things spin in the opposite orientation when their motion is reversed. Roberts shows that whenever a particle having these properties satisfies condition (1) of the Wigner's Principle, it also satisfies the condition (2). Thus, it is resulted that if the EDM particle has non-degenerate energy eigenvectors (satisfies condition 1), it is simply a T-violating system. That is why people are very interested in the EDM particle [18]. Thus, Wigner's Principle points out a relatively easy route to T-violation: "If time reversal takes a non-degenerate energy eigenstate to a distinct ray, then we have T-violation" [18]. If a particle having EDM really exists, electromagnetic interactions suffice to violate T-symmetry, no need for complex behavior of weak interactions in some processes like kaon decay. But, a disadvantage is that Wigner's Principle needs us to know if a system allows a non-degenerate energy eigenstate, Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 44 requiring more detailed knowledge of the Hamiltonian compared to the other two routs to T-violation [18]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 45 CHAPTER IV TIME REVERSAL INVARIANCE VIOLATION IN THE K AND B MESONS In this chapter, I explain two important experiments that succeeded in the direct observation of T-violation in the K and B mesons. The theoretical framework of these experiments is primarily based on the Kabir's Principle introduced in the previous chapter. 4.1. Direct Observation of T-violation in the Neutral K Mesons In particle physics, mixing or oscillation is a process in which a particle turns into its antiparticle and vice versa, so for the neutral K mesons (neutral kaons) the mixing would be K_ ⇆ Kâ_. Mixing is governed by the weak interactions. Weak force does not conserve the strangeness quantum number (denoted by S), while strangeness is conserved in the strong interactions. The strangeness for K_ and Kâ_ is 1 and −1, respectively. In general, neutral kaons decay to some other final products too, so what is actually observed is an interference between mixing and decay [6, 21]. 4.1.1. Theoretical Background The state of the system in a given time can be shown by |ψ > = a(t)|K_ > + a÷(t)|Kâ_ >, such that the time evolution factors a(t) and a÷(t) satisfy the Schrödinger equation, i d dt . a(t) a÷(t)2 = H ø . a(t) a÷(t)2 where Hø is a non-Hermitian 2×2 matrix given by Hø = M − ? M Γ. Here M and Γ are mass and decay Hermitian matrices. Kû = < √M (|K_ > − |Kâ_ >) and K8 = < √M (|K_ > + |Kâ_ >) Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 46 are eigenstates of the Hø after diagonalization differing in lifetime (τ8 ≈ 90 ps and τû ≈ 52 ns ≈ 600 τ8) and mass (∆m = mû −m8 ≈ 3.5 × 10G<M MeV) [21]. The processes K_ → Kâ_ and Kâ_ → K_ are the time reversed of each other, so according to the Kabir's Principle, the T-symmetry of laws describing these processes would be violated if the occurrence probabilities of these two processes differ. To put it more precisely, considering the process K_ → Kâ_ as an instantiation of ψ?E → ψAss9 and its reverse Kâ_ → K_ as an instantiation of TψAss9 → Tψ?E, besides the aforementioned fact about kaons that TK_ = K_ and TKâ_ = Kâ_, this is an exact and straightforward application of Kabir's Principle: conserving time symmetry needs the probability that a K_ is observed as a Kâ_ at time τ be equal to the probability that a Kâ_ is observed as a K_ at the same time τ [6, 21]. Thus, T-violation can be calculated according to the measure TV [6, 15, 21]: TV ≡ P μK_ + →Kâ_¶ − P(Kâ_ + →K_) P μK_ + →Kâ_¶ + P(Kâ_ + →K_) The rate of these processes is reflected in the off-diagonal elements of Hø, so time reversal invariance needs the magnitudes of the off-diagonal matrix elements to be the same, implying, ,M<M − ? M Γ<M, = ,MM< − ? M ΓM<, ⇔ arg(Γ<M) − arg(M<M) = n π [21]. So T-violation can be encoded in the small parameter δä calculated as δä = π − [arg(Γ<M) − arg(M<M)]. We can construct another T-violation parameter εŽ which is related to the δä as εŽ = 2i2Hø<M2 M − 2HøM<2 M 2∆Γ(Λû − Λ8) = ∆m 2 . i∆m + ∆Γ/2 ∆mM + (∆Γ/2)M . δä Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 47 where Λû,8 = mû,8 − ? M Γû,8 and ∆Γ = Γ8 − Γû [21]. 4.1.2. The CPLEAR Experiment In the CPLEAR experiment, to produce initial K_ and Kâ_, a beam of protons and antiprotons are collided: p?? → 7K 0K−π+ Kâ0K+π− both reactions occur at a branching ratio of about 2 × 10Gç. Low-energy antiproton ring LEAR at CERN fired antiprotons to a gaseous hydrogen target in the center of the CPLEAR detector. The CPLEAR detector is shown in figure 8. Ten chamber layers (2 proportional chambers, 6 drift chambers, 2 streamer tubes) were used to trace charged particles resulting from annihilation and neutral-kaon decays. A 32-segment sandwich of scintillatorCherenkov-scintillator detectors provided particle identification (kaons/ pions/ electrons). Photons were detected by an 18-layer fine-grain streamer tube/lead sampling calorimeter [21]. In total, about 100 million K_and Kâ_decays were reconstructed. The results refer to the analysis of the complete date set at of 70 M K_, Kâ_ → πÞπG decays with τ > 1τ8, 1.3 M K_, Kâ_ → eπν decays, 0.5 M K_, Kâ_ → πÞπGπ_ decays, 2 M K_, Kâ_ → π_π_ decays and 17 k K_, Kâ_ → π_π_π_ decays [21]. In the experiment, we need to know the strangeness of the neutral kaon at its production and decay time. The initial strangeness of each neutral kaon is tagged by the Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 48 charge of the charged kaon associated to it after the collision (KG is associated to K_ in K_KGπÞ and KÞ is associated to Kâ_ in Kâ_KÞπG). As was mentioned before, the mere mixing of neutral kaons does not exist, because they are unstable particles and are naturally inclined to decay through some channels to more stable particles [6, 21]. To tag the strangeness of the kaon at the decay time t = τ, we refer to semileptonic decays K_ → e+π−ν and Kâ_ → e−π+ν÷ which occur after kaon production. A detected positive lepton charge is associated with a K_ and negative lepton charge with a Kâ_. Here, according to Kabir's Principle, the difference in the rates (R) in which these processes occur is a sign of T-violation in the underlying laws [6, 15, 21]. Consider this ratio as the intended measurement in the experiment [6]: AŽ ≡ R(Kâ0t=0 → e+π−ν t=+:) − R(K 0 t=0 → e −π+ν÷ t=+:) R(Kâ0t=0 → e+π−ν t=+:) + R(K 0 t=0 → e −π+ν÷ t=+:) Figure 8. View of the CPLEAR detector. From [6]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 49 where R denotes the rate of decay9. Let's represent the rate of first decay in the numerator by NâÞand the second one by NG. Like any other complicated experiment, there are some inefficiencies in the measurement, which we do not discuss here in detail [6, 21]. However, to compensate for these inefficiencies, two normalization factors of < η > = 1.014± 0.002 and < ξ > = 1.12023 ± 0.00043 are calculated for NâÞ and NG, respectively [6, 21]: AŽ :F; = ηNâÞ − ξNG ηNâÞ + ξNG Also, there are some sources of systematic error in the measurement of < A# $%& >, e.g. background level and background asymmetry, normalization factors, decay-time resolution, regeneration correction. The calculated amount of the systematic error is 1.0 × 10Gç [6]. 9 In the limit of CPT symmetry in these decays and of the validity of the ∆S = ∆Q rule (S is the strangeness quantum number and Q is the electric charge), TV = AŽ [6]. Figure 9. T-violation asymmetry AŽ :F;. Full line represents a constant fit in the decay-time interval 1-20τ8. From [6]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 50 The measured asymmetry is shown in figure 9. The data points in the interval of 1τÕ to 20τÕ scatter around a positive and constant offset from zero, which represents a surplus of Kâ_ → K_ process. Its average value < AŽ :F; >(<GM_)+A= 6.6 ± 1.3Õ9I9. ± 1.0ÕBÕ9.1 × 10 Gç with a standard deviation 4σ represents the first direct measurement of T-violation [6]. 4.2. Direct Observation of T-violation in the Neutral B Mesons The BABAR collaboration using BABAR detector at SLAC announced the T-violation in the neutral B mesons in 2012, namely four years after the CPLEAR experiment. The experiment involves another application of Kabir's Principle, i.e. the core idea is to compare time-dependent rates of two processes that differ by exchange of the initial and final states [7, 18]. The measurement employs the EPR effect in the entangled B mesons produced in Υ(4S) decays. In the original experiment, the T-violation asymmetry in the below four independent pairs of processes which happen after Υ(4S) decays and satisfy Kabir's Principle is measured [7, 18]. a) B÷_ ⇆ BG b) BG ⇆ B_ c) B÷_ ⇆ BÞ d) BÞ ⇆ B_ where BÞ and BG are certain orthogonal linear combinations of B_ and B÷_. However, in the following, I just discuss one of them, namely c. Suppose that rate R(l+X),(ô/ψ KL) involves the decay of one of the neutral B's into an lÞX state in t<, and the decay of the other B into Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 51 J/ψ Kû in tM. And that rate R(J/ψ KS),(l−Xâ) involves the decay of one of the neutral B's into J/ψ K8 in t<, and the decay of the other B into l GX÷ in tM. Given ∆t = tM − t<, and under certain assumptions, this is a comparison between rates of B÷_ ∆9 → BÞ and BÞ ∆9 → B÷_ [7, 18, 22]. The asymmetry is defined as follows [22]: AŽ ≡ R(lDE),(J/F GH) − R(ô/F G:),(l¤E÷) R(lDE),(J/F GH) + R(ô/F G:),(l¤E÷) = R μB÷_ ∆9 → BÞ¶ − R(BÞ ∆9 → B÷_) R μB÷_ ∆9 → BÞ¶ + R(BÞ ∆9 → B÷_) Figure 10 depicts the basic concept of the experiment. As you can see in the top of this figure, electron-positron collisions produce Υ(4S) resonances decaying to an entangled pair of B mesons. When one B mesons decays at t<, the identity of the other is tagged while it is not measured specifically. The B meson observed to decay to the final state lÞX at t< transfers information to the other meson and dictates that it is in a B÷_ state. This surviving meson, tagged as B÷_, is observed at tM to decay into a final state J/ψKûA that filters the B meson to be in a BÞ state, a linear combination of B_ and B÷_ states. This case corresponds Figure 10. Basic concept of BABAR experiment. From [23]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 52 to a transition B÷_ → BÞ. To study time reversal, we have to compare the rate at which this transition occurs with the rate of the reversed transition BÞ → B÷_ depicted in the bottom of the figure 10 [7, 18, 23]. BABAR expresses the time dependence of the asymmetry to be of the form [7]: AŽ(∆t) ≈ ∆SŽG 2 sin (∆m2∆t) + ∆CŽG 2 cos (∆m2∆t) where ∆m2 = 0.502 ± 0.006 psG<. Using 468 million BB÷ pairs produced in Υ(4S) decays collected by the BABAR detector, they measured the parameters involved in AŽ as below [7]: ∆SŽG = 1.17 ± 0.18Õ9I9. ± 0.11ÕBÕ9. ∆CŽG = 0.04 ± 0.14Õ9I9. ± 0.08ÕBÕ9. The non-zero ∆SŽG with a significance equivalent to 14σ constitutes a direct detection of T-violation. Figure 11 depicts the asymmetry AŽ for ∆t ≤ 8 ps. It should be mentioned that the main difference between the CPLEAR and BABAR experiments is that K_ and Kâ_ as the initial and final states of the processes under study in the CPLEAR Figure 11. The asymmetry AŽ measured by the BABAR experiment for transitions c. The points with error bars represent the data, the red (solid) and blue (dashed) curves represent the projections of the best fit results with and without time-reversal violation, respectively. From [7]. ∆t(ps) AŽ Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 53 experiment are the CP-conjugate of each other, while B÷_ and BÞ are not. Thus, this experiment provides the first direct observation of T-violation through the exchange of initial and final states in transitions that can only be connected by a T-symmetry transformation [7]. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 54 CHAPTER V SUMMARY In this thesis, I had three main goals. My first goal was giving a clear picture of spatiotemporal symmetries and their role in physics. It would not be possible to make any scientific prediction or give any scientific explanation if physical phenomena were not invariant under translation in time and space and rotation in space. As an important discovery in the history of modern physics, we have seen that contrary to initial scientists' expectations, some processes do not have spatial parity symmetry. In addition, we have seen that CPT symmetry (theorem), implying that physical phenomena are invariant under simultaneous transformations of charge conjugation (C), parity (P) and time reversal (T), has a crucial role in the Standard Model of particle physics (Chapter 1). My second goal was introducing the standard account of time reversal invariance and studying it in classical mechanics, electromagnetism and especially quantum mechanics, as the most fundamental theory in physics. According to the standard account, a process has T-symmetry if its reverse, interpreted in a certain sense, is also compatible with the laws of nature. Consider two processes, a process describable solely by classical mechanics, as the elastic collision of billiard balls, and a thermodynamic process, as burning a piece of paper. If we film these processes, we can easily confirm that the first film played backward shows a process that might actually happen, but we cannot admit what the second film played backward shows might occur in the real world. Thus, according to the standard account, the first process has T-symmetry, but not the second. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 55 We have seen that although as the necessary condition, it is easy to verify that Newton's second law of motion is invariant under t Ž → −t transformation, it is not the case that all systems describable in classical mechanics have T-symmetry. Actually, in the Newtonian formulation of classical mechanics, the sufficient condition for T-symmetry is that the force must be proportional to the gradient of a time-independent potential. In classical mechanics, T just reverses velocity v, resulting in the motion reversal. The common belief is that electromagnetism has T-symmetry, too. We have seen that to guarantee this, besides current density J which is proportional to v, electric field E must be reversed as well, otherwise Maxwell's equations would not be invariant under t Ž → −t transformation. As the main focus of this thesis, we studied time reversal invariance and its violation in quantum mechanics. We have seen that contrary to conventional wisdom, the Schrödinger equation is not invariant under t Ž → −t transformation. I have shown that if ψ(t) satisfies Schrödinger equation, then ψ∗(−t), and not ψ(−t), satisfies it as well, i.e. T must conjugate the quantum state in addition to negating t. I briefly reviewed Robert's well-reasoned three-step plan to derive T for quantum mechanics. As the outcome of his plan, we saw that T = UK, where U is either 1 (for the position and momentum observables) or σM (for the spin observable of half-spin particles), and K is a complex conjugation operator. It is clear that this result is in accordance with the Schrödinger equation's invariance requirement discussed above. T reverses momentum P and spin σ in quantum mechanics (Chapter 2). Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 56 Contrary to classical mechanics and electromagnetism which according to the standard account are time reversal invariant, there are some cases in which quantum mechanics violates T-symmetry. I reviewed three possible ways to T-violation in quantum mechanics. Curie's Principle provides the first way to T-violation: if a state having a linear symmetry is transformed to a state failing to have that symmetry, this shows that the law governing the transformation violated that symmetry. This principle together with the CPT theorem were the theoretical bases for the first indirect detection of T-violation. The second way is based on the Kabir's Principle, saying that if occurrences probabilities of two processes which differ by exchange of initial and final states are not equal, then the law governing these processes violates T. The third way to T-violation employs Wigner's Principle, which states that if T takes a non-degenerate energy eigenstate to a distinct ray, then we have T-violation. This principle is applicable to an elementary particle with an electric dipole moment (EDM), however, such a particle has not yet been discovered. Contrary to the first, the last ways provide direct observations of T-violation, i.e. they do not depend on the CPT theorem or any other intermediate principle (Chapter 3). I explained the CPLEAR and BABAR experiments which based on the Kabir's Principle, directly observed T-violation in certain weak interactions of the neutral K and B mesons, respectively. In the former, to produce an initial K_Kâ_, a beam of protons and antiprotons are collided. Then, the asymmetry in the rates of K_ ⇆ Kâ_ mixing transitions is measured as a sign of T-violation. In the latter, electron-positron collisions produce Υ(4S) resonances decaying to an entangled pair of B_B÷_ mesons. The EPR effect in these Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 57 mesons results in four pairs of distinct T-conjugated transitions. The measured asymmetry in the transitions' rates of each pair again is a direct sign of T-violation (Chapter 4). My third goal was to show that there is not just a unique account of time reversal invariance in physics. Addressing this goal, I discussed two other accounts of time reversal, Albert's account and my alternative account. According to the Albert's account, T must just reverse the order of instantaneous states, leaving the independent variables of the states unaffected. It was shown that under this account, classical mechanics is time reversal invariant, while electromagnetism and quantum mechanics are not. However, the standard account and Albert's account both describe a kind of reversal in time. Instead, my alternative account, describes a kind of reversal of time, that a process has T-symmetry if it is compatible with the laws of nature when the direction of time is reversed. I argued that even in a very simplified situation wherein T-symmetry of classical mechanics and electromagnetism is guaranteed, it can be violated in the quantum mechanics. I have argued that the alternative account deserves serious attention, because it provides us with deep insights into the rich and complex structure of quantum (Chapter 2). Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 58 BIBLOGRAPHY [1] Brading, Katherine and Castellani, Elena. "Symmetry and Symmetry Breaking." The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring 2013 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), URL = <https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2013/entries/symmetry-breaking/>. [2] Sachs, Robert G. The Physics of Time Reversal. University of Chicago Press, 1987. [3] Wu, Chien Shiung, et al. "Experimental Test of Parity Conservation in Beta Decay." Physical Review 105.4 (1957): 1413. [4] David, Albert. Time and Chance. Harvard University Press, 2000. [5] Christenson, James H., et al. "Evidence for the 2π Decay of the KM_ Meson." Physical Review Letters 13.4 (1964): 138. [6] Angelopoulos, Angelos, et al. "First Direct Observation of Time-reversal Noninvariance in the Neutral Kaon System." Physics Letters B 444.1 (1998): 43-51. [7] Lees, J. P., et al. "Observation of Time-reversal Violation in the B_ Meson System." Physical Review Letters 109.21 (2012): 211801. [8] Callender, Craig. "Thermodynamic Asymmetry in Time." The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Winter 2016 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), URL = <https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2016/entries/time-thermo/>. [9] Callender, Craig. "XII-Is Time 'Handed' in a Quantum World?" Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society. Vol. 100. No. 1. The Oxford University Press, 2000. [10] Ismael, Jenann. "Quantum Mechanics." The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring 2015 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), URL = <https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2015/entries/qm/>. [11] Albert, David Z. Quantum Mechanics and Experience. Harvard University Press, 2009. [12] Earman, John. "What Time Reversal Invariance Is and Why It Matters." International Studies in the Philosophy of Science 16.3 (2002): 245-264. [13] Roberts, Bryan W. Time, Symmetry and Structure: A Study in the Foundations of Quantum Theory. Diss. University of Pittsburgh, 2012. Texas Tech University, Reza Moulavi Ardakani, December 2017 59 [14] Arntzenius, Frank, and Hilary Greaves. "Time Reversal in Classical Electromagnetism." The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science (2009): axp015. [15] Roberts, Bryan W. "Three Myths about Time Reversal in Quantum Theory." Philosophy of Science (2016): (2):315-334. [16] Wigner, Eugene. Group Theory and its Application to the Quantum Mechanics of Atomic Spectra. Vol. 5. Elsevier, 2012. [17] Myrvold, Wayne. "Philosophical Issues in Quantum Theory." The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring 2017 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), URL = <https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2017/entries/qt-issues/>. [18] Roberts, Bryan W. "Three Merry Roads to T-violation." Studies in History and Philosophy of Science Part B: Studies in History and Philosophy of Modern Physics 52 (2015): 8-15. [19] Bernabéu, José, and Fernando Martínez-Vidal. "Colloquium: Time-reversal Violation with Quantum-entangled B Mesons." Reviews of Modern Physics 87.1 (2015): 165. [20] Wigner, Eugene. "Über die Operation der Zeitumkehr in der Quantenmechanik." Nachrichten von der Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften zu Göttingen, Mathematisch-Physikalische Klasse 1932 (1932): 546-559. [21] Zavrtanik, Danilo. "CPLEAR Results on T and CPT Violation." Nuclear Instruments and Methods in Physics Research Section A: Accelerators, Spectrometers, Detectors and Associated Equipment 446.1 (2000): 132-137. [22] Applebaum, Elaad, et al. "Subtleties in the BABAR Measurement of Time-reversal Violation." Physical Review D89.7 (2014): 076011. [23] Zeller, Michael. "Particle decays point to an arrow of time." Physics 5 (2012): 129.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Evolutionary Theory and Computerised Genetic Algorithms Computerised Genetic Algorithms have many applications. A Wikipedia article lists more than 80. But missing from that list is any mention of investigations into Evolutionary Theory. Perhaps biologists don't see the point of investigating the Theory of Evolution because they are convinced that Neo-Darwinism already fully explains the phenomenon of evolution. Unfortunately most of the world would disagree and not all the objections are on religious grounds. A simple computerised genetic algorithm can be constructed with a few weeks effort and then simulations can be carried out as a way of exploring various facets of evolution. I have named my own model Geneworld and it is composed of 16 species (Pop1, Pop2, Pop3 etc.), each with a starting population of 16 organisms and each organism is composed of 16 genes. A gene is represented by a number and each gene in Geneworld is initially given a number between 590 and 660 chosen randomly. Another number, which is initially set at 625, represents the environment and the idea is that each gene attempts to mutate towards that target number. We will justify the existence of species later. The measure of fitness of each gene is the difference between the value of that gene and the target. A smaller difference equates to a higher fitness. A fitness value of zero is therefore defined as perfect fitness. In every generation of Geneworld there is a five percent chance that any particular gene will mutate and its value will then change by plus or minus ten. The fitness of each organism is then measured and two are chosen for reproduction. The chances of being chosen is weighted towards the organisms with a higher fitness. A random position on this pair of genomes is then chosen for crossover and the two resulting organisms are copied into a new temporary species. This process of reproduction is repeated until the new temporary species contains the same number of organisms as the old species and it then replaces the old species. The total fitness of each organism in Geneworld is then compared to two targets. A fitness score below the lower target (remember low values indicate higher fitness) will duplicate that organism and add that copy to the population of that species. A fitness score above the higher target will cause that particular organism to be deleted from the population. The number of organisms in each species can therefore vary. The maximum size of each species population is set at 32 but no lower limit is set and therefore a species can become permanently extinct. So, the probability of a gene being mutated is 5% and the degree of mutation (the amount by which the value of that gene is changed) is initially set at ± 10. Let's try 500 generations of Geneworld and check the average value of each gene at the end of this trial. Trial 1 shows that after 500 generations the average fitness value of each gene is around 5. 5 is about as near as the average can get to perfect fitness (a value of 0) because of the size of the degree of mutation (± 10). Trial 1. Environmental target fixed at 625 generation no. is 600 average gene fitness for Pop1 = 4 No. of organisms in Pop1 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop2 = 5 No. of organisms in Pop2 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop3 = 4 No. of organisms in Pop3 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop4 = 4 No. of organisms in Pop4 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop5 = 5 No. of organisms in Pop5 is 32 2 average gene fitness for Pop6 = 6 No. of organisms in Pop6 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop7 = 6 No. of organisms in Pop7 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop8 = 6 No. of organisms in Pop8 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop9 = 5 No. of organisms in Pop9 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop10 = 5 No. of organisms in Pop10 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop11 = 5 No. of organisms in Pop11 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop12 = 7 No. of organisms in Pop12 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop13 = 6 No. of organisms in Pop13 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop14 = 5 No. of organisms in Pop14 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop15 = 6 No. of organisms in Pop15 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop16 = 4 No. of organisms in Pop16 is 32 The concept of environment, at least in this investigation, is referring to all the other organisms (or species) that could impact on the survival on each particular organism (or species). Evolution works because of the interaction between reproduction, competition and variety. These elements all relate to organisms (or their genes). Let's now see what happens in a situation when the target (the environment) is variable. The target is now set to be either 600 or 650 and it fluctuates between these two figures on a random basis (five percent chance of it switching in each generation). Trial 2 shows that the organisms of Geneworld have difficulty coping with this varying environment and in this trial all species are extinct after 512 generations. Trial 2. Environmental target varies between 600 and 650 Generation no. is 512 average gene fitness for Pop1 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop1 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop2 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop2 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop3 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop3 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop4 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop4 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop5 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop5 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop6 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop6 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop7 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop7 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop8 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop8 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop9 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop9 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop10 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop10 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop11 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop11 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop12 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop12 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop13 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop13 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop14 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop14 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop15 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop15 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop16 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop16 is 0 (extinct) Despite there being many ways in which a biological genome can re-arrange itself, no rearrangement or mutation will be of any use unless it improves or maintains the fitness of that organism. The chances of an undirected or random change producing anything useful in the human genome of 3 billion base pairs is vanishing small. Even with comparatively miniscule genomes such as those in Geneworld the only sensible way in which a species can survive a varying environment is that its population contains at least some organisms that are adapted to each of the different 3 environments. Way back before the pre-Cambrian explosion when single-celled organisms found themselves in a desperate struggle to survive when being attacked by innumerable different enemies, evolution would have developed systems for maintaining useful variety within each identifiable species. What gave these organisms and their species a chance to 'learn' something about the opposition was that their enemies were not strikingly different from themselves. They were built by the same code and there was a strict limit on the types of chemicals that the code could build. It was this similarity and restricted range of the different types of enemy that allowed early life to 'learn', in an algorithmic sense, something about the likely opposition and therefore to produce offspring that were most likely to survive a varying environment. This contingent survival strategy was based on the experiences gleaned by each species from their evolutionary history. Organisms suited to survive rare types of enemy would only be needed in small quantities in the population. It is the limited range of possibility in the competitive environment of these simple organisms that allowed them to be prepared. Is this possible? Of course it is. The algorithm of life has the potential to find any survival mechanism, against any threat, provided that the survival mechanism is physically, chemically and logically possible. Survival mechanisms must also not violate the important principle of the selfish gene. We must never underestimate the power of Darwin's simple idea. Darwin didn't! All that is needed is for the genetic algorithm of life to simply evolve a hierarchy of selfish genes, some being able to dictate the outcome of reproduction or to control the types of possible mutation. All genes are selfish but some are more selfish than others! The system of sexual reproduction is a prime example of how genes have evolved to control the output of reproduction. As will be argued later, group selection and altruism are other examples of the evolution of genes which can control other genes. Let us now give the species in Geneworld the chance to evolve 'mutator genes' that control the type of mutation which each 'body-building gene' is allowed. Each body-building gene has allocated to it a mutator gene. In Geneworld, as it is currently set, each new mutator gene ensures that its bodybuilding gene can only mutate to a value of either 600 or 650. Let us now run Geneworld again but restrict the evolution of these mutator genes to the even-numbered species only. (Pop2, Pop4, etc.) Trial 3 demonstrates that the even-numbered species, with their mutator genes, now have no problem in surviving the varying environment. It's all very artificial but we're trying to establish a principle here. Natural selection only directly operates on body-building genes and no matter what happens to body-building genes mutator genes always survive because they exist in the genomes of both winners and losers. Trial 3. Varying environmental target with mutator genes existing in even-numbered species. generation no. is 600 average gene fitness for Pop1 =0 No. of organisms in Pop1 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop2 = 24 No. of organisms in Pop2 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop3 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop3 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop4 = 24 No. of organisms in Pop4 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop5 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop5 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop6 = 24 No. of organisms in Pop6 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop7 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop7 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop8 = 19 No. of organisms in Pop8 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop9 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop9 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop10 = 20 No. of organisms in Pop10 is 31 average gene fitness for Pop11 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop11 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop12 = 24 No. of organisms in Pop12 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop13 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop13 is 0 (extinct) 4 average gene fitness for Pop14 = 22 No. of organisms in Pop14 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop15 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop15 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop16 = 23 No. of organisms in Pop16 is 32 SEX It is difficult to demonstrate the usefulness of crossover within Geneworld as it is currently set. If we remove crossover (but continue to allow the more fit organisms to be given priority for reproduction) then, in the experiments so far completed, there is no deterioration in the survival rates when compared to experiments with crossover. So what use is crossover? Firstly, we have to state that the most important step in the creation of life from inanimate chemicals is the ability to self-replicate. And then, just as important, is the ability to evolve improved copying fidelity; there is little use in evolving a survival advantage and then not being able to pass on that advantage to the future. As a way of simulating less-than-perfect copying fidelity, let us now increase the degree of mutation from ± 10 to ± 55 and run Geneworld twice, first without crossover and second with crossover. We will dispense with the variable environment and fix the target back as 625. Trials 4 and 5 clearly demonstrate the advantage of crossover. Crossover is evolution's method of eliminating copying errors. It was evolved to improve copying-fidelity, without which organisms would merely accumulate copying errors and suffer mutational meltdown and extinction. Trial 4. Without crossover. generation no. is 709 average gene fitness for Pop1 =0 No. of organisms in Pop1 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop2 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop2 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop3 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop3 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop4 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop4 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop5 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop5 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop6 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop6 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop7 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop7 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop8 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop8 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop9 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop9 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop10 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop10 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop11 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop11 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop12 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop12 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop13 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop13 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop14 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop14 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop15 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop15 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop16 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop16 is 0 (extinct) Trial 5. With crossover. generation no. is 800 average gene fitness for Pop1 = 22 No. of organisms in Pop1 is 30 average gene fitness for Pop2 = 23 No. of organisms in Pop2 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop3 = 20 No. of organisms in Pop3 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop4 = 17 No. of organisms in Pop4 is 14 average gene fitness for Pop5 = 20 No. of organisms in Pop5 is 12 5 average gene fitness for Pop6 = 22 No. of organisms in Pop6 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop7 = 24 No. of organisms in Pop7 is 28 average gene fitness for Pop8 = 21 No. of organisms in Pop8 is 22 average gene fitness for Pop9 = 25 No. of organisms in Pop9 is 30 average gene fitness for Pop10 = 22 No. of organisms in Pop10 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop11 = 24 No. of organisms in Pop11 is 18 average gene fitness for Pop12 = 23 No. of organisms in Pop12 is 26 average gene fitness for Pop13 = 20 No. of organisms in Pop13 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop14 = 21 No. of organisms in Pop14 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop15 = 27 No. of organisms in Pop15 is 20 average gene fitness for Pop16 = 20 No. of organisms in Pop16 is 32 ALTRUISM and GROUP SELECTION Altruism and group selection were mentioned above as another possible use for mutator genes. Let's now set up a very contrived experiment to demonstrate the principle. Competition for survival so far was between organisms in one's own species. Let's now also set up competitions between organisms in different species. Two organisms from different species are chosen at random for a fight to the death, the winner being the one with the highest fitness. But let's only set up a system of altruism in the odd-numbered species (Pop1, Pop3, etc.). Organisms in these species who have not been selected for the deadly competition can now give up some of their fitness units to the competitor from their own species who is now fighting for survival. Several organisms can each sacrifice some their own fitness units to help their colleague and these altruistic contributions to the competitor's fitness will continue until she can overcome the opposition and claim victory. For this trial we will reduce the degree of mutation from the original ± 10 to ± 1. We will revert to the varying environment and we will run Geneworld for 200 generations. Trial 6 shows that all the species without this type of altruism become extinct. Altruistic organisms are contributing to the survival of their species by reducing their own individual survival chances. Altruism works! OK it only works within Geneworld but again we are trying to demonstrate a principle here. Trial 6. Altruism in odd-numbered species with inter-species competition. generation no. is 200 average gene fitness for Pop1 =26 No. of organisms in Pop1 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop2 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop2 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop3 = 28 No. of organisms in Pop3 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop4 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop4 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop5 = 26 No. of organisms in Pop5 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop6 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop6 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop7 = 20 No. of organisms in Pop7 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop8 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop8 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop9 = 24 No. of organisms in Pop9 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop10 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop10 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop11 = 26 No. of organisms in Pop11 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop12 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop12 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop13 = 29 No. of organisms in Pop13 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop14 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop14 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop15 = 37 No. of organisms in Pop15 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop16 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop16 is 0 (extinct) 6 Incidentally, if we remove the type of altruism involving inter-species competition and instead opt for a type of 'intra-species altruism' where the better fit organisms can take fitness units away from lesser fit comrades then the results are shown in Trial 7. Again the altruistic genes only exist in the odd-numbered species and here we get a very different result. This type of altruism is a form of primogeniture (where the eldest son gets everything and the others get nothing) and it seems that it might not be a good idea for the species as a whole. This presumably is because the strategy of 'putting all your eggs in one basket' can prove disastrous when the environment changes. Trial 7. Altruism in odd-numbered species with intra-species competition. generation no. is 200 average gene fitness for Pop1 =0 No. of organisms in Pop1 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop2 = 26 No. of organisms in Pop2 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop3 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop3 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop4 = 18 No. of organisms in Pop4 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop5 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop5 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop6 = 19 No. of organisms in Pop6 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop7 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop7 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop8 = 25 No. of organisms in Pop8 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop9 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop9 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop10 = 27 No. of organisms in Pop10 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop11 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop11 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop12 = 21 No. of organisms in Pop12 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop13 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop13 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop14 = 25 No. of organisms in Pop14 is 32 average gene fitness for Pop15 = 0 No. of organisms in Pop15 is 0 (extinct) average gene fitness for Pop16 = 16 No. of organisms in Pop16 is 32 Very few people appreciate the power of Darwin's idea; very few people recognise the amazing potential of the DNA algorithm. There is no need to invoke the idea of copying errors: evolution would have come up with systems for creating variety way before the pre-Cambrian explosion. The argument that emerges from this article is that evolution is primarily about surviving a varying environment and therefore the necessity of creating a system of variety maintenance and generation. This system is what we mistakenly refer to as evolution. And in that sense there have been almost no major steps in evolution since the pre-Cambrian explosion. The next question is how does evolution come up with completely new untested ideas? Darwin knew that variability was always available when needed. If we return to Geneworld and the situation, where individual genes are alternating between the values of 600 and 650, then occasionally new sequences of genes will occur on a purely probability basis. For example, the first four genes in any individual organism will occasionally be 600,600,600,600 and if this configuration, by chance, provides a better fit in the environment in which the organism finds itself it will be selected for transmission into the future as a four-gene group. A well-known phenomenon is the propensity for biological genomes is make extra copies of genes or other stretches of DNA. These extra copies could provide raw material for new genetic configurations. Individual genes have already learnt to co-operate with each other in order to build integrated bodies and these novel combinations of co-operating genes could create new characteristics which have not yet been tested by the environment. This idea of new configurations moves the key driver of organismic change from adaptation to pre-adaptation. Human migration works in a similar way – humans (and in fact all 7 animals) migrate to any empty niche in which they are, to some degree, pre-adapted in order to avoid competition and over-crowding. THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES Steve Jones, the British geneticist, said, "The one thing that The Origin of Species didn't explain was the origin of species". He couldn't be more wrong. Darwin's book explained natural selection and he argued that a major consequence of natural selection is the existence of species. To help understand how the possible endless variety of early life 'condensed' into species I have used a very pared-down version of Geneworld. We start with same 16 groups of 256 randomly chosen numbers between 590 and 650. We will dispense with the idea of genes for this trial and instead we can assume that each number represents an organism. And furthermore we will not initially regard Pop1, Pop2, etc. as species but merely groups of organisms who are close enough together to be in competition with each other. Organisms on the other side of the world for example are never likely to meet in face-toface competition. In each generation of Geneworld two organisms from each of the different geographical areas are chosen at random for a fight to the death. The winner is chosen at random and the winner makes a copy of herself and the loser is eliminated from the population. There is no target environment, no mutation, in fact nothing except this simple knockout competition. The original 16 geographical areas, each composed of a similar set of randomly chosen numbers between 590 and 650, now become, after 500,000 generations: Pop1 627,627,627,627,627 etc. Pop2 630,630,630,630,630 etc. Pop3 621,621,621,621,621 etc. Pop4 628,628,628,628,628 etc. Pop5 648,648,648,648,648 etc. Pop6 639,639,639,639,639 etc. Pop7 636,636,636,636,636 etc. Pop8 615,615,615,615,615 etc. Pop9 610,610,610,610,610 etc. Pop10 651,651,651,651,651 etc. Pop11 597,597,597,597,597 etc. Pop12 617,617,617,617,617 etc. Pop13 644,644,644,644,644 etc. Pop14 595,595,595,595,595 etc. Pop15 595,595,595,595,595 etc. 8 Pop16 622,622,622,622,622 etc. So there we have it; species, without any form of adaptation. This result would have been achieved much quicker with differential environments but even without adaptation species are a natural consequence of the simple arithmetic of life. In summary, copying errors are not the providers of the raw material on which natural selection depends. What has evolved, and this happened way before the pre-Cambrian explosion, is a system which we currently describe as Evolution. What we really now have is a system for creating variety and in this sense the real evolution, the evolution of this variety-generating system ended long ago. The avoidance of extinction, or survival, is the very raison d'être of life, and the only rational explanation of extinction-avoidance, is that genes have discovered a way to understand something of the variability of the possible environments in which they could find themselves. Remember, when we are talking about environments we are discussing environments composed of countless other organisms all fighting for survival. Darwin himself would never have accepted Neo-Darwinism. He always thought that there would eventually be revealed 'the laws of variation' and the variation which was needed as the raw material for natural selection 'would not be random'. I would invoke a form of 'Occam's Razor' to justify the above explanation of evolution: given a genetic algorithm such as Geneworld how else could extinction be avoided? The twentieth century definition of the theory of evolution states that evolution proceeds by the action of natural selection on the variety created by copying errors. The copying errors part of this theory is just not good enough and the only alternative explanation for the abundance and variety of different species is the explanation as given above.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 16/01/2013; 3B2 version: 9.1.406/W Unicode (May 24 2007) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/ROUT_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9780415782869.3d 36 CRITICISM Jonathan Gilmore One sometimes responds to works of art in ways that are idiosyncratic or purely subjective, much as Proust's Swann discovers in old masters' paintings the physiognomies of his personal acquaintances. Other times, one responds to works with the aim of being guided by the artistic merit and meaning they would possess for anyone attending to them under appropriate conditions. When one explains and justifies that work-guided response to others, one engages in a form of criticism. Any example of criticism is likely to have components that depend on its particular vehicle of expression, such as a private conversation, literary review, art historical monograph, belletristic essay, or newspaper listing. However, we will focus on three features most instances of criticism share (and in virtue of which they are recognizable as criticism): the identification of art, its interpretation and its evaluation. It should be noted that each of these aspects has at times been identified with criticism tout court and that many contemporary critics deny the centrality of evaluation to their activity. Thus what follows is to some degree an idealization of the practice, one that is meant to capture the rational structure of criticism, but not an account that will perfectly fit how all critics think of what they do. Identification and interpretation Any critical appraisal of a work of art must identify (describe, characterize, individuate) it in a way that allows readers to imaginatively represent the work to themselves. At one time, in the literary genre of ekphrasis, the work of art that a critic conjured up may not have existed independently of his description. In the more typical case readers of criticism do not have, or have not yet had, an opportunity to engage firsthand with the work of art in question and must content themselves with learning of it through the critic's account. But a reason in principle for why a critic must provide such a nonevaluative identification of the work's features is that there are an indefinite number of ways of describing a work of art and a critic needs to bring the work under at least one description that will sustain, if not justify, the meaning and value she attributes to the work. Identifying the descriptive features of a work of art – e.g. what a painting depicts, what events occur in a narrative or play, what sort of language, register or rhyme 375 Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 16/01/2013; 3B2 version: 9.1.406/W Unicode (May 24 2007) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/ROUT_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9780415782869.3d scheme is used in collection of poetry, and so on – might be easily achieved for traditional stable genres or media of art. But we can see that sometimes a description of a work must distinguish the features of the work of art from features of the ordinary physical object or material the work is identified with. This is often the case with works of the avant-garde, those from unfamiliar artistic traditions, or those that are not created under a concept of a standard medium. For example, a critic may need to decide whether the atypical thickness of the stretchers employed by a minimalist painter contributes to the meaning of his work (as, say, stressing a painting's identity as an object) or whether inconsistencies in a narrative should be ignored or, instead, recognized as expressive features of the work itself. These sorts of indications do not so much describe or explain the work of art as identify what constitutes it (Danto 1981). A descriptive operation that goes beyond identifying physical or structural features of a work is the classification of it as an instance of one or more general kinds. These may be genres or media, such as lyric poetry; styles, such as color-field painting; movements, such as punk rock; kinds defined by a common theme, such as suburban anomie; or a common goal, as in muckraking novels. In identifying the relevant kind or kinds to which a work belongs a critic imputes certain functions, points or purposes to the work, i.e. those characteristic of works that belong to such kinds. Or, more tendentiously, to say that a work belongs to a given category may be to commit oneself to explaining the work as arising out of a process in which an artist recognized the relevance of certain regulative constraints and ideals constitutive of that category (Wollheim 1968: 171). In identifying the category or categories to which a work belongs a critic can point to certain features of the work as being salient elements in its meaning, as describing The Turn of the Screw as both a ghost story and psychological novella tells us what features of the work are relevant sources of its meaning and what ends it is designed to achieve. Categorizing a work may also distinguish it from other descriptively similar works, where such similarity obscures differences in meaning. A recognition that, in the context in which a work was created, its language would seem antiquated or its visual form obsolete may prompt a critic to consider whether the work does not belong to its apparent categories but, instead, to others (say, of parody or appropriation) that are parasitic on the apparent ones. It is unclear where mere description of a work leaves off and interpretation begins. Some aspects of a work, such as the meaning of a symbol or the implicit associations triggered by a term, may have been intelligible as a matter of course to the artist's contemporaries but require extensive forensic analysis akin to interpretation for us to understand that art today. Also, some art forms and individual works of art may call for less interpretation than others, their meaning being as easily recognizable as the meanings of words to a native speaker. However, a notional distinction between the two operations is that description identifies a work in a way that fixes the work, at least for the period the critic engages with it, as an entity to be interpreted. Interpretation presumes the existence of a stable description upon which it depends. A critic may, for example, describe how a naturalistic portrait by the painter Chuck Close is composed of a multitude of the artist's colored fingerprints. This description would then subtend an interpretation of the work, as, perhaps, a witty riposte JONATHAN GILMORE 376 Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 16/01/2013; 3B2 version: 9.1.406/W Unicode (May 24 2007) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/ROUT_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9780415782869.3d by the artist to those who complained that his photorealist style precluded genuine handiwork. In the process of interpreting a work, a critic's descriptions do not merely serve as clues or guides to discovering a meaning. Rather, through her descriptions a critic explains how the meaning of the work – what it is about, what it expresses, says, shows and so on – is embodied in the work's material and structural make-up. That is, an interpretation of a work assigns meaning to a work in a way that both makes sense of why it has the features it does and shows how those features together convey that meaning. It is a mark of a successful piece of criticism in its nonevaluative dimensions that its descriptions, classifications, appeals to context, and so on, are mutually supporting. For a guiding assumption in the attribution of meaning to a work is that the expressive means a creator chooses are rationally related to her expressive ends. However, this degree of interdependence among the different aspects of criticism suggests to some theorists that the result of the combined operations of criticism is not constrained by truth so much as consistency. Rather than any given component serving as a fixed constraint on the results of the others, it might be suggested that each is in practice adjusted in turn so that a harmonious conjunction of the results of each distinct operation is achieved. And, as there may be multiple internally consistent sets of the outputs of those operations of criticism, it may be suggested that the choice of which particular set of mutually supporting description, classification, appeal to context, and so on, is put forward as a critical analysis of the work is determined by some evaluative end, e.g. an unacknowledged political or social function that such an analysis serves (Fish 1980). For example, one art historian might describe how an Impressionist painting registers the changing conditions of light, rain and wind in the environment in which it was created, and thus attribute to the painting a heightened realism and immediacy. By contrast, another art historian might note how the work presents only barely discernable indications of such modern technologies as railroad bridges, and thereby interpret the work as a nostalgic and distorting attempt to obscure the contemporary industrialization of the countryside. It isn't clear if this account captures anything peculiar to the operations that go into the discovery of the meaning of works of art, for a similar epistemic worry can be raised in any context in which empirical description and theoretical explanation stand in terms of potentially mutual revision. In any case, in practice, it is not obvious that just any output of one of the operations of criticism can be adjusted so as to fit with any others (Carroll 2009: 99–101). A critic who sought to classify Anna Karenina as a picaresque novel would find it exceedingly difficult to plausibly redescribe its genesis, plot, and expressive features (as opposed to ignore them) in ways that fit with that categorization. Many critics think that the job of criticism is complete once they have provided a description and interpretation of the work: an account of what the work is about, or what it is designed to achieve, and how that meaning or achievement is realized in the particular medium, form, structure and so on that constitutes the work (Danto 2007). For some critics, this purported abstention from evaluation reflects a wariness in attributing objective status to critical evaluations comparable to the more easily defended objectivity of the description and explanation of a work. For others it is CRITICISM 377 Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 16/01/2013; 3B2 version: 9.1.406/W Unicode (May 24 2007) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/ROUT_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9780415782869.3d merely a reflection of the division of labor between those curators, theatrical producers, editors and others who perform the role of evaluating works in terms of whether they merit an audience's and critic's attention, and the critic's role in explaining how the work is to be understood such that its merit can be recognized. Such critics are right in denying that their job is to render solely verdicts on a work's artistic value. For, just as our interest in a work's meaning is not in the meaning per se but, rather, in how that meaning is embodied in the work, so our interest in a work's artistic value is typically not an interest in the mere assignment of that value (say, with an eye to ranking works of art). Rather, our interest in the evaluation of a work is an interest in how the evaluation is merited by the particular nature of the work, what makes the work "work": what is valuable in the way its form embodies or expresses its meaning, or in the experience that it furnishes. Moreover, even in describing and interpreting a work, a critic must offer at least one kind of normative evaluation, namely, an appraisal of whether or not the, say, representational, expressive or experiential purpose or point of the work is successfully realized. Describing whether and how the features of a work contribute, for example, to the evocation of a certain attitude toward its subject is to evaluate the work in terms of how well it functions. Most theorists who endorse the central role of evaluation in the critical enterprise see description and interpretation as logically, if not practically, distinct from evaluation. An evaluation is grounded in and justified by the descriptive and interpretative operations performed on a work. However, those who subscribe to a value-maximizing theory of interpretation hold that the practice of interpretation, rather than merely grounding or offering reasons for an evaluation, has itself an ineliminable evaluative dimension. Evaluation Broadly speaking, a value-maximizing theory of interpretation holds that it is one of the constitutive norms of interpretation that it aims to heighten a work's artistic value. One version of such a theory enjoins critics to interpret a work against the grain, perhaps ignoring historical constraints on what could have been intended, if that makes possible a rewarding experience of the work, or some other kind of positive appraisal (Barthes 1975). A more modest theory proposes that it is an internal feature of our very engagement with works of art as works of art that we seek in them, or in an experience of them, a maximal degree of artistic value consistent with what we know about the works (Davies 1991: 181–206; Lamarque 2002). Accordingly, other aspects of our engagement with works – such as our practices of interpretation – should be guided by that search for artistic value. It is a reason for preferring one interpretation over another, when each is consistent with the known facts of the work, that the first interpretation lends the work greater artistic value or makes possible a greater artistic experience. A problem with this approach, however, is that it isn't clear that our aim in engaging with works of art is to maximize such artistic value. We may care about works of art for many reasons other than what makes them artistically valuable, JONATHAN GILMORE 378 Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 16/01/2013; 3B2 version: 9.1.406/W Unicode (May 24 2007) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/ROUT_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9780415782869.3d without those reasons falling outside of a proper engagement with art qua art. A work may command our attention qua art for e.g. what it reveals about a vanished way of life, the character of its creator or the role it played in virtue of its artistic qualities in some significant historical event. In any case, even if there is an interpretative norm of maximizing artistic value, it may apply only to that kind of artistic value that a work merits under a specifically intentional description, i.e. one that characterizes the work as an achievement. Let us now turn to that characterization. To evaluate a work of art as an achievement is to appraise it not for any artistically valuable feature it may have or experience it may afford, but primarily for those that are the result of a successful performance, one that has the creation of the work with such artistic value as its aim. That some such characterization of art is an element in critical practice is reflected in the way works of art are regularly described not just as lacking artistic merit but as exhibiting specific failures, e.g. of impact, technique or expression. Such appeal to artistic defects presumes that works can fall short of some standard, broadly conceived, that they are supposed to satisfy. That is, such works are appraised not for just any artistic values they may have but for those values they succeed in realizing under an intentional description, broadly construed (Carroll 2009: 48–83; Sparshott 1982). It would be implausible to maintain that the only features of a work relevant to its appraisal are those that are in accord with the artist's intentions in creating the work, for some room needs to be made for happy accidents and unintended features that enhance the work's artistic value. Still, such an evaluation treats those unintended features as relevant objects of appraisal only under descriptions that reveal how they enhance or detract from the overall (intended) artistic achievement evidenced in the work. One measure of a work's achievement may be its realization of certain specifically aesthetic values. A critic may, for example, call attention to the tedium of a film's action sequences or the tightness of a novel's plot, identifying such response-dependent but objectively possessed features of the works in question as elements that detract from or contribute to the work's artistic value. A long-standing tradition of theorizing about criticism sought to show how ascriptions of such aesthetic features to a work could be in principle justified through a joint appeal to the work's nonaesthetic (merely descriptive) features and to certain principles ("principles of taste") that specify that insofar as a work possesses those nonaesthetic features it possesses those aesthetic features (Beardsley 1962). One such putative principle might be that insofar as a work of sculpture exhibits the proportions prescribed by the "golden ratio" it will appear harmonious. Such principles were elusive, but many philosophers thought that only via appeal to some sort of deductive or inductive argument employing such principles in the attribution of aesthetic features to a work could aesthetic evaluation issue in judgments that are genuinely normative for others. Other theorists tried to show that deductive or inductive argument was the wrong model to explain how a critic can persuade us that a work has some aesthetic quality. Theorists proposed that critics offer only what purport to be reasons for their aesthetic judgments. What critics do is cause – not rationally persuade – us to perceive the object in question as they do, perhaps through "directions for perceiving" (Isenberg 1949: 336). The problem here is that if critics do not offer reasons for their aesthetic evaluations, CRITICISM 379 Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 16/01/2013; 3B2 version: 9.1.406/W Unicode (May 24 2007) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/ROUT_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9780415782869.3d but only the means to elicit experiences similar to theirs, it is not clear how a critic's judgments can have a normative force, one that invites agreement. One answer is that we can appeal to the regulative notion of an ideal critic making her judgment under ideal conditions, and it is a particular critic's closeness to such an ideal that gives her evaluations such a normative force. That is, we may think of an ideal critic as one who makes her judgments under such favorable conditions as being unbiased, perceptually discriminating, sensitive to the way artists employ the medium of the work in question, and so on. The suggestion, drawing on David Hume's "Of the Standard of Taste," is that the standard for an appropriate response to a work is set by the response that an ideal critic would have under such ideal conditions (Hume 1985). Of course, critics do not typically satisfy such ideal conditions and it is not clear how we would know if they did. Indeed, it is a feature of the history of criticism that often a critic's fully vindicated success in appropriately evaluating art of one kind offers no predictive value in determining whether the critic will appropriately evaluate art of another. Ruskin wrote with deep appreciation of Turner's achievement but unaccountably disparaged Whistler's paintings as a pot of paint thrown in the public's face; Clement Greenberg exhibited extraordinary critical acumen in recognizing the achievements of the abstract expressionists when their status in the artworld was uncertain, yet he remained oblivious to the artistic virtues of major landmarks in pop, performance and postmodern art that came later. However the authority of aesthetic judgment is to be construed, it should be understood as pertaining not to artistic evaluation as a whole but only to one part of such evaluation. This is for two reasons: (i) aesthetic value is only one of many kinds of values that a work may have as a work of art; and (ii) one cannot infer from the presence alone of an aesthetic feature in a work whether the work has, in virtue of that feature, greater or lesser artistic value. Beauty may be an artistic virtue when present in a war memorial but a defect in a depiction of the destruction and suffering the war brought about. If there are no features – aesthetic or descriptive – about which one can make a nontrivial generalization that their possession by any work contributes to its value qua art, how can a description of such features serve to justify a critic's artistic evaluation? One proposal is that in describing and interpreting a work a critic does not defend her evaluation of it as a good work of art qua art. Rather, a critic describes and interprets a work so as to show that it has the good-making features qua art of a particular kind. Here, the proposal is that different kinds, categories, or genres of art are each indexed to different points and purposes that are "general enough" to serve as standards in light of which a critic can justify her evaluation (Carroll 2009: 29). In his Poetics, perhaps the first treatise based on such genre-relative criticism, Aristotle shows how the study of each type of poetry requires attending to its particular telos or aim, and he explains the comparative successes of different tragedies as due in part to how well their features contribute to their genre-specific ends (Aristotle 1984). Like Aristotle, contemporary critics can identify a given work as belonging to a given category or genre of art, and evaluate it with reference to its satisfaction of whatever makes instances of such a genre good qua instances of that genre. An evaluation of a particular detective story can be justified by noting whether it has the good-making features (e.g. a compelling, perhaps flawed, detective; clues that readers can follow) criterial of success in that genre. JONATHAN GILMORE 380 Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 16/01/2013; 3B2 version: 9.1.406/W Unicode (May 24 2007) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/ROUT_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9780415782869.3d Such reference to a work's category or categories in evaluating it is not ad hoc, for identifying a work as belonging to a category-such as still life, sonata, agitprop, romance novel, royal portrait, body art, and so on-commits a critic to an explanatory hypothesis about the origins and creation of the work, including what kinds of artistic value the work was created to realize. Of course, any given work may belong to more than one category, and there are higher-level kinds of kinds. Thus, it is possible for a work to be successful as one type of thing but unsuccessful as another or to fall short of satisfying all of its animating aims because they are mutually incompatible. With kinds of art in which the criterial features are largely stable, a critic's judgment that a work is a good instance of its kind can have a normative hold on us. We ought to agree with her evaluation of the work insofar as it is based on a correct characterization of whether the work exhibits the good-making features of its kind or kinds. However, one concern with the above schema is that it seems that in many traditions of art it is possible for a work to fail to have the good-making features of a particular genre, style, medium or category that it belongs to and yet still be a good instance of that kind. A work of art may be a successful instance of its genre even as it rejects (modifies, elaborates, challenges and so on) the heretofore good-making characteristics of that kind. That is, the good-making characteristics associated with categories of art are often susceptible to revision through works that are instances of those very categories (Gilmore 2011). An artist may, for example, draw on the resources associated with a category of art without taking on board all the norms of that category. Also, we may find cases in which we want to say that a given work does belong to a given genre but is so significant as art that it "transcends" its category. For example, Leni Riefenstahl's Triumph of the Will and the collages of the Russian constructivists are indisputably instances of political propaganda but many critics find that an appeal to any traditional understanding of that categorization obscures, rather than explains, what makes those works compelling (Sontag 1966). Thus, at any moment in a tradition the existing good-making characteristics of a kind offer potential and perhaps practically reliable ways for a particular work of art that is a member of that kind to succeed as a work of art, but those characteristics do not impose limits on what can be a good work of art of that kind. Original works of art may have great artistic value according to criteria that are incommensurate with those by which earlier works of the same genre or category were judged. Many theorists might acknowledge the above point but note that the histories of the arts are composed not of radical breaks but of continuities. A good critic is able to identify the traditional lineages an apparently original work belongs to, and evaluate it in light of the ends of its predecessors. Thus, a critic might recognize that, despite adopting radically new modes of depicting pictorial space, cubist painters never departed from rendering their subjects in customary genres of still life, portraiture and landscape. However, this doesn't solve the problem of how objectively to ground the evaluation of novel works of art in their capacity as novel works – that is, for the original sources of value they offer. We can and do evaluate unprecedented works as in many respects continuous with works earlier in their traditions, but that alone ignores what makes them new. Original artworks are often original precisely in introducing new criteria that, by their lights, they and other artworks ought to be judged (Steinberg 1972). CRITICISM 381 Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 16/01/2013; 3B2 version: 9.1.406/W Unicode (May 24 2007) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/ROUT_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9780415782869.3d It may seem that in justifying an appraisal of a work through appeal to a subtending description and interpretation, a critic gives audiences reason to appraise the work in a like manner. But that is too strong a demand to place on the justification a critic offers. Audiences may have aims in engaging with work in light of which they ought not to conform their evaluations to those the critic offers. Rather, we should say that when a critic justifies her appraisal of a work she offers audiences reasons to appraise the work as she does – reasons that could be their own reasons for responding to the work – insofar as they share the ends internal to the practice of criticism. The above account of criticism emphasizes how its evaluations may be rationally defensible and thus carry a normative claim on agreement from others. However, critical evaluation may also have an inescapably subjective element, in which its hold on others is less secure. We can see this in the two kinds of questions that a critic may ask. The first question is: what is the level of achievement of a work of art relative to the standards of the category or categories to which it belongs? The second question is: is that an achievement that matters? The answer to the first question can demand agreement on rational grounds. The answer to the latter question, which is a question of what kinds of artistic achievements we should value, seems essentially contestable in a heterogeneous society – a matter of individual desires and preferences rather than intersubjective norms. We may evaluate any work of art in light of its satisfaction of whatever ends are internal to its kind. But whether such an achievement is a worthy one – one that should be valued – is a question answered with reference not to art's ends but to the ends of art's audiences. See also Empiricism (Chapter 4), Sibley (Chapter 19), The aesthetic (Chapter 24), Taste (Chapter 25), Value of art (Chapter 28), Interpretation (Chapter 30). References Aristotle (1984) The Complete Works of Aristotle, ed. J. Barnes, Princeton: Princeton University Press. Barthes, R. (1975) The Pleasure of the Text, trans. Richard Miller, New York: Hill & Wang. Beardsley, M. (1962) "On the Generality of Critical Reasons," Journal of Philosophy, 59: 477–86. Carroll, N. (2009) On Criticism, New York and London: Routledge. Danto, A. (1981) The Transfiguration of the Commonplace, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. --(2007) "The Fly in the Fly Bottle: The Explanation and Critical Judgment of Works of Art," in Unnatural Wonders: Essays from the Gap between Art and Life, New York: Columbia University Press. Davies, S. (1991) Definitions of Art, Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Fish, S. (1980) Is There a Text in This Class? Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Gilmore, J. (2011) "A Functional View of Artistic Evaluation," Philosophical Studies 155: 289–305. Hume, D. (1985) "Of the Standard of Taste," in Essays: Moral, Political and Literary, ed. E. F. Miller, Indianapolis, IN: Liberty Classics. Isenberg, A. (1949) "Critical Communication," Philosophical Review 58: 330–44. Lamarque, P. (2002) "Appreciation and Literary Interpretation," in M. Krausz (ed.) Is There a Single Right Interpretation? University Park, PA: Penn State University Press. JONATHAN GILMORE 382 Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 16/01/2013; 3B2 version: 9.1.406/W Unicode (May 24 2007) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/ROUT_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9780415782869.3d Sontag, S. (1966) Against Interpretation, New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Sparshott, F. (1982) The Theory of the Arts, Princeton: Princeton University Press. Steinberg, L. (1972) Other Criteria: Confrontations with Twentieth-Century Art, Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press. Wollheim, R. (1968) Art and Its Objects, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. CRITICISM
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
MAYNOOTH PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS ISSUE 6 (2011) An Anthology of Current Research Published by the Department of Philosophy, NUI Maynooth Issue Editor: Amos Edelheit General Editor: Michael Dunne     Thrasymachus in Plato's Politeia I1 Ivor Ludlam ABSTRACT This is part of a forthcoming book analysing Plato's Politeia as a philosophical drama, in which the participants turn out to be models of various types of psychic constitution, and nothing is said by them which may be considered to be an opinion of Plato himself (with all that that entails for Platonism). The debate in Book I between Socrates and Thrasymachus serves as a test case for the assumptions that the Socratic method involves searching for truth or examining the opinions of interlocutors and that Socrates is the mouthpiece of Plato. Socrates and Thrasymachus are usually assumed to be arguing about justice. In fact, they are going through the motions of an eristic debate, where the aim is not to discover the truth about the matter under discussion but to defeat the opponent by fair means or foul, but especially foul. The outrageous wordplay used by both men is not so obvious in translation, and in any case tends to be ignored or explained away by scholars who assume that Plato the philosopher was writing a philosophical treatise (an exposition of philosophical ideas) and not a philosophical drama (a presentation of philosophically interesting models, to be compared and contrasted by the reader). 1. THE NATURE OF POLITEIA I Book I of Plato's Politeia opens the dialogue with three increasingly extended discussions apparently pertaining to the subject of justice. Socrates converses firstly with an old acquaintance, Cephalus (328c-331d); then with that man's son, Polemarchus (331e-336a); and finally with the sophist Thrasymachus (336b-354b). Book I is often regarded as featuring the non-philosophical scene-setting and the cut and thrust of dialectical debate typical of an early aporetic dialogue. Its style is widely acknowledged to contrast strongly with that of the following nine books. The "Socratic" Socrates of the early dialogues thus appears to be transformed into the "Platonic" Socrates of the middle dialogues in one and the same dialogue.2 This would be unusual for a dramatist of Plato's calibre, to say the least, and the exercise is certainly not repeated in other dialogues. K.F. Hermann proposed as long ago as 1839 that Plato had adapted an early dialogue on justice to serve as the first book of the Politeia.3 In 1895, the hypothetical early dialogue even received the name Thrasymachus, after its major protagonist.4 While the theory has had its proponents,5 many scholars have disputed this view, arguing that Book I was never intended to be an independent work, and could only ever have existed as part of the Politeia.6 Charles Kahn has noted that stylometry, formerly used to support the Thrasymachus  1 The present paper is an adaptation of the second chapter of my almost completed analysis of Plato's Politeia as a philosophical drama. I have chosen to follow Latin rather than Greek transcription of names (Plato, Glauco, Adimantus, Thrasymachus, not Platon, Glaukon, Adeimantos, Thrasymachos), but Greek transcription of Greek terms, such as Politeia. 2 Annas (1981) 4: "The Republic is [...] overtly transitional. Book I has the form of a Socratic dialogue like the early ones; but the rest of the book is a continuous exposition of what we can only take to be Plato's own views on people and society." 3 Hermann (1839) 538-40. 4 Dümmler (1895) 229ff.. 5 E.g., Friedländer (1962) 50, and 305 n1 for a brief discussion; Smith (2000) 113. 6 E.g., Burrell (1916) 61: "The point of view of Socrates coincides exactly with his point of view in what follows, for practically all the main principles of the Republic are anticipated, if not distinctly laid down, in Book I." In a stimulating article on proleptic composition in this dialogue, Kahn (1993) provides many references to earlier proponents of an independent Thrasymachus, but fails to mention forerunners of his own contrary position; on some of these, see Harrison (1967) 37-38, who refers, among others, to a Dutch article by Henderickx (1945) which he describes as showing, on a larger scale than previous attempts, "how the developments of the later books are here foreshadowed" (38). On the dispute, see further, Blondell (2000) ‹   ,YRU /XGODP μ7KUDV\PDFKXV LQ 3ODWR¶V Politeia ,¶ LQ Maynooth Philosophical Papers ,VVXH   HGE\$PRV(GHOKHLW 18,00D\QRRWK SS±     thesis, actually does no more than place Book I between the early dialogues and the remaining books of the Politeia;7 furthermore, Book I contains "massive anticipation of the following books", without which little would remain to constitute an earlier independent dialogue.8 Kahn is referring to the many topics and comments in Book I which become truly relevant or intelligible only in the later books. Hence Kahn's designation of Book I in particular as "proleptic". The stylistic anomaly between the first book and the remaining nine books remains. The apparently didactic style of Books II-X is often attributed to Plato's recognition of the shortcomings of Socratic dialectic, used in Book I but explicitly abandoned at the beginning of Book II for the style Plato now appears to favour. Kahn suggests an alternative: "Book I is Socratic not because Plato is leaving the philosophy of the earlier dialogues behind, but because he wants to recall these discussions as vividly as possible, as background and context for his new undertaking." Plato, he argues, is now equipped with solutions to problems raised in earlier dialogues, and wishes to remind the reader of those earlier dialogues and the problems raised there.9 Far from establishing the organic unity of the Politeia, Kahn's argument appears to confirm the stylistic anomaly, and indeed supports the view that the Politeia is not one organic work, but a philosophical treatise sandwiched between two books (I and X), which may be detached without detracting from the import of the central portion.10 Were Kahn correct, it would be necessary to conclude that Plato has never shown such dramatic ineptitude as he manifests in what is widely regarded as his masterpiece, the Politeia. Plato himself obviously thought that he was still writing drama in the later books of this work, as some scholars have recently pointed out: Socrates continues, for example, to engage in dialectic, and he uses the opinions of his interlocutors, for the most part Glauco and Adimantus.11 If, as is sometimes claimed, the dynamics or ground-rules of this drama have changed between the first and second books,12 then Plato would be guilty of a serious breach of the dramatic consistency he adheres to in other dialogues.13  2. APPROACHING THRASYMACHUS In the view of many scholars, Thrasymachus is the key to understanding Plato's intent in the Politeia.14 By the end of Book I, Thrasymachus has been silenced, and Socrates,  128, and references there. 7 Kahn (1993) 133-34. 8 Kahn (Ibid.) 136. 9 Kahn (Ibid.) 136. 10 Kahn (Ibid.) 136: "Book 1 is the formal counterpart to Book 10: both are autonomous units, detachable from the rest of the work and almost exactly the same in length." 11 Observed and discussed by, e.g. Stokes (1987); Glucker (1989); Arieti (1991) 231-246; Blondell (2000) 130-144. Kahn, like many other distinguished scholars, does not regard the dialogue as a drama, at least in this sense, since he regards the philosophical views expressed as being those of Plato himself. 12 Blondell (2000) 128: "Book 1 of the Republic resembles the 'early' or 'elenctic' dialogues, and as such deploys dramatic form and character very differently from the remainder of the work. Since Books 2-10 were clearly composed as a continuation of Book 1, we may expect the stylistic shifts to tell us something about Plato's own shifting attitudes towards philosophical method and its literary expression." Cf. Annas (1981), n. 1 above. 13 My book on the Politeia will show that Book I is an organic part of the whole dialogue, and furthermore, that the dialogue is one consistent drama. While his positions may be inconsistent, Thrasymachus himself behaves in a manner consistent with the character he represents. The change in style between Book I and the later books is simply due to the new demands placed upon Socrates by the two major protagonists of the later books, Glauco and Adimantus. 14 Julia Annas (1981) 34-35 describes research on the Politeia as it was twenty five years ago, but the description applies almost as well to the present state of affairs: "The arguments with Thrasymachus are in some ways odd; everyone agrees that what he says is extremely important, for the rest of the Republic sets out     who is narrating the conversation, claims that at this point he considered the discussion over. He continues his narrative, however, at the beginning of Book II, with an account of the subsequent challenge by Glauco, who wishes to see Socrates defeat Thrasymachus more convincingly. To this end, Glauco presents the position which he says Thrasymachus and many like him usually advocate, a position somewhat different from anything said in Book I. It is, then, the Thrasymachaean challenge as presented by Glauco which Socrates purportedly addresses in the remaining books of the Politeia. Many scholars, however, seem to prefer the Thrasymachaean challenge of Book I, where, whatever it is that Thrasymachus appears to be saying, it is this which they consider to be Thrasymachus' true position, and not the one reported by Glauco. Yet Thrasymachus in Book I has been notoriously difficult to pin down, partly because he appears to advance contradictory positions during his conversation with Socrates. Depending on how one resolves these apparent contradictions, or fails to resolve them, various positions may be, and have been, attributed to him.15 Since the 1960's, analyses of Thrasymachus in Book I often begin with the listing of three positions perceived to be held by Thrasymachus in the course of his conversation with Socrates: a) Justice is the advantage of the stronger16 b) Justice is obedience to the laws17 c) Justice is another's good, one's own hurt18 These accounts of justice, goes the argument, are mutually incompatible. From the point of view of the stronger, justice cannot be the advantage of the stronger (himself) and also another's good (a, c). From the point of view of the weaker, considered as the weaker subject of a stronger ruler, justice as obedience to those laws disadvantageous to the ruler conflicts both with justice as the advantage of the stronger (a, b) and justice as another's good (b, c). Many attempts have been made to show that one or other of the statements reflects the position which Thrasymachus is really meant to be holding in Book I, while the other statements are subsumed under the identified consistent position.19 A subsequent cause for debate is the question whether the statement chosen to represent Thrasymachus' consistent position is intended to be descriptive or prescriptive. Furthermore, there is no agreement over the cause for the consistency: some, for example, seem to regard the identified  to answer the challenge set by what he claims. This is made explicit at 358b-c. Unfortunately, there is much less agreement over what it is that Thrasymachus says." 15 Kerferd (1947) 19 lists Ethical Nihilism, Legalism, Natural Right and Psychological egoism as positions previously attributed by scholars to Thrasymachus, of which he chooses Natural Right as the correct attribution (27). Kerferd's article seems to have been the forerunner for a spate of articles in the same vein, whereby lists of attributed positions are examined and whittled down to one or other correct attribution. Lists can vary widely; e.g. Chappell (1993) 2 identifies previous interpretations according to which Thrasymachus: 1. makes no clear point; 2. is a revolutionary; 3. is a Thucydidean cynic; 4. agrees with Callicles in the Gorgias; 5. is a Nietzschean immoralist; 6. believes that justice means obedience to the laws; 7. means to recommend injustice as a way of life. 16 Explicitly stated by Thrasymachus at 338c, 339a, 341a, 344c. 17 Inferred from the argument at 339b7. Hourani (1962) seems to have been the first to formalize this apparent position (see his presentation below). It is now customary to mention this along with the other two contradictory positions if only to explain it away; but see, e.g., Chappell (1993) 3 for a slightly different list which replaces this position with two others drawn from statements made by Thrasymachus at 338e in his first set-piece argument. 18 Explicitly stated by Thrasymachus at 343c. 19 Thrasymachus essentially advocated: a) Justice is the advantage of the stronger: Nettleship (1901) 28; Barker (1959) 95; Crombie (1962) 81-85; Cross & Woozley (1964) 32-60; Guthrie (1969) 88-90; Irwin (1977) 289 n23; id. (1995) 174-75. b) Justice is obedience to the laws: Hourani (1962); Anscombe (1963);c) Justice is another's good, one's own hurt: Kerferd (1947); Sparshott (1966); Henderson (1970); Nicholson (1974); Annas (1981) 46; Reeve (1985) 247; Chappell (1993); Scaltsas (1993).     consistent position as historical fact, being that of the actual sophist, Thrasymachus; 20 others require from Plato nothing less than a consistent position to serve as decent opposition for the serious arguments presented by Socrates-Plato. 21 Not everyone has argued for a consistent Thrasymachus. Many have found Plato's Thrasymachus inconsistent, but again there is much disagreement, this time over the nature of the inconsistency.22 Whether arguing for consistency or for inconsistency, scholars tend to share the assumption that the matter is to be settled by subjecting Thrasymachus' arguments to logical analysis, as if this would determine Thrasymachus' level of comprehension or confusion. In other words, scholars on both sides of the divide tend to treat Thrasymachus as a thinker, or even philosopher,23 who is fairly or unfairly treated by Plato the dramatist.24  3. IS THRASYMACHUS CONFUSED? A brief survey of a logical analysis of Thrasymachus' first argument should suffice to show that judging Thrasymachus according to the criterion of logic is misguided. Thrasymachus begins the argument proper with an assertion which he enunciates in one form or another four times in all (338c, 339a, 341a, 344c). It is usually translated as "Justice is the advantage of the stronger".25 To distinguish this from many other assertions which Thrasymachus makes, I shall call it the slogan. It is with this slogan, in one form or another, that Thrasymachus concludes his major arguments. This slogan, in the form "Justice is the advantage of the stronger", is transformed in modern philosophical analyses into the first of the three "accounts of justice" listed in the previous section. Hourani's  20 E.g., Henderson (1970) 218: "I believe that the interpretation I shall give is the position Thrasymachus held, that Plato understood it in this way, and that in the dialogue Socrates addressed himself to it directly. If his arguments fail to refute Thrasymachus, as I think they do, it is not because the disputants are arguing at cross-purposes, but rather because Socrates' arguments are defective."Reeve (1985) 263: "Plato doesn't tell us in so many words whether he thinks these Thrasymachean arguments are successful or not, but his subsequent practice in the Republic suggests that he thinks they are." 21 Annas (1981) 35 argues that creating a confused Thrasymachus would be a pointless procedure for Plato to follow, and continues (35-36): "It is clear from the beginning of Book 2 that Plato took Thrasymachus to be defending a theory which was a real and dangerous alternative to what he took to be the truth about justice. If he were deliberately presenting the opposition as being weaker than in fact he took it to be, he would be guilty of intellectual dishonesty."Chappell (1993) 1: "Thrasymachus' statement of an alternative to standard views about justice in Republic Bk. I sets the challenge which Republic Bks. II-X must answer. If this is not a serious challenge, if Thrasymachus' alternative view of justice is not interesting, plausible or coherent, it is not clear why moral philosophers should bother with The Republic at all. Here I will offer an interpretation of Thrasymachus' alternative view of justice which does make his view out to be interesting, and plausible, and coherent." 22 E.g., Sparshott (1966) notes two inconsistencies. He maintains that Thrasymachus' fundamental position is that just action is action good for another (430) but (432) "he really does begin by saying that justice depends on law (and is therefore conventional)"; secondly, "he maintains to the end the coincidence of 'another's good' and 'the interest of the stronger' in the sense of the rulers' interests, even while adducing examples of just action that refute the equation." Guthrie (1969) 94: "But what consistency, it may be asked, is there in contending that (a) justice is the interest of the ruling power (which Thrasymachus states simply and without qualification), but (b) it is not just for the ruler to seek his own interest, i.e. justice?"Maguire (1971) 163: "(Thrasymachus') third assertion, 'right is another's good, or advantage', adapts the first, 'right is the advantage of the stronger' (which is a consequence of the second, 'right is obedience to the laws') to state a moral theory. This third assertion is quite incompatible with the other two, and does not, in fact, belong, by origin, with them. It is, rather Plato's device to move from political statements about 'right' to the very different question, whether observance of 'right' (i.e. justice), is more or less advantageous than non-observance (i.e. injustice)." 23 So, e.g., Scaltsas (1993) 261. 24 An outstanding exception is Klosko (1984). 25 338c1-2 IJઁįȓțĮȚȠȞ ("the just", "what is just", "justice") is nothing other WKDQIJઁIJȠ૨țȡİȓIJIJȠȞȠȢ ıȣȝijȑȡȠȞ ("the advantage of the stronger/superior").     influential analysis of Thrasymachus' first supporting argument (338d7-339a4) well exemplifies the modern philosophical mode of interpretation in which this transformation takes place:26 The explanation is given briefly (338-339a) in three premisses and a conclusion. [i]: Then it is the government IJઁਙȡȤȠȞ which is master in each city, is it not? Certainly. [ii]: Well, every government lays down laws for its own advantage - a democracy democratic, a tyranny tyrannical laws, and so on. [iii]: In laying down these laws they have made it plain that what is to their advantage is just for their subjects. They punish him who departs from this as a lawbreaker and an unjust man. [Conclusion]: And this, my good sir, is what I mean. In every city justice is the same. It is what is advantageous to the established government. But the established government is master, and so sound reasoning gives the conclusion that the same thing is always just - namely, what is advantageous to the stronger.  Hourani restates this argument schematically on the next page:27 [i]: The rulers in each city are the stronger. [Fact of politics] [ii]: The laws are always made by the rulers for their own advantage. [Fact of psychology] [iii]: Justice is obeying the laws. [Definition] [Conclusion]: Therefore justice is the advantage of the stronger. Hourani's third premise, the definition of justice as obeying the laws, is henceforth in the literature the second "account of justice" held by Thrasymachus, an account usually explained away or subsumed to one of the other two "accounts of justice". Thrasymachus, however, proposed no such definition in the first place. It has been read into the text in order to make logical sense of the argument, as becomes more apparent at the end of Hourani's analysis: Although the definition is not very clear in this premiss as stated by Thrasymachus,we know that it is present - as a definition - for these reasons: (a) It is basic to the argument, which would collapse without this link; for without it there would be no connection between justice and the rulers. (b) In the passage which follows immediately afterwards (339b-e), Socrates in cross-questioning Thrasymachus makes it plain that he understands obedience to law as one of the supposed definitions offered by Thrasymachus..."28  Ever since Hourani's article, this definition of justice has been generally accepted as part of Thrasymachus' argument, whether it is treated as Thrasymachus' "true" position or not. Logic requires its presence, whether Thrasymachus gave this definition or not. The  26 Hourani (1962) 111. 27 Hourani (1962) 112. 28 Hourani (1962) 112-13. The emphases are Hourani's.     argument falls logically without it. Is Thrasymachus so confused that he failed to provide such an important link in the chain? Or could it be that his argument does not actually require this definition? A comparison of Hourani's scheme with what Thrasymachus actually says is instructive:  3. 1. Thrasymachus vs. Hourani's step [i] We recall that Hourani's step [i] was, "The rulers in each city are the stronger, [Fact of politics]." Is Thrasymachus simply presenting a fact of politics here? A literal translation of the first part of Thrasymachus' argument runs as follows (338d7-11):29  Don't you know then, said he, that of cities, some are "tyrannized", some are "democratted", and some are "aristocratted"? How could I not? Therefore this "crats" (rules over others) in each city, the governing power (to archon)? Quite.30 We may note immediately that had Thrasymachus simply been describing a fact of politics, as Hourani designates his step [i], he could have begun with the second question, that it is the governing power (to archon) which rules in every city. This he does not do. He feels the need to begin with another question. What, then, is the point of the first question? Thrasymachus observes interrogatively that cities are tyrannized, democratted and aristocratted. Thrasymachus wishes this first observation to appear to lead to the conclusion that what rules in each city is the governing power. This first question, therefore, is intended to appear to be general and applicable to every city. Indeed, it refers to the rule of the individual (tyrant), the rule of the many (demos), and the rule of the few (aristocrats). Why, however, are the verbs Thrasymachus employs not more general in scope? Instead of IJȣȡĮȞȞȠ૨ȞIJĮȚ ("are ruled by a tyrant"), Thrasymachus could have chosen to sayȝȠȞĮȡȤȠ૨ȞIJĮȚ ("are ruled by one"), to denote all forms of rule by one person.31 In the same way, ੑȜȚȖĮȡȤȠ૨ȞIJĮȚ ("are ruled by a few") would have been more general thanਕȡȚıIJȠțȡĮIJȠ૨ȞIJĮȚ("are ruled by aristocrats"), the verb which Thrasymachus chooses to use. Consider the following exchange, using the more general verbs, which Thrasymachus should have done had he been aiming at a logical argument: Don't you know then, said he, that of cities, some are "monarchied", some are "democratted", and some are "oligarchied"? How could I not? Therefore this "crats" (rules over others) in each city, the governing power (to archon)? Quite. The verbs now stress not ruling over others (krat), but governing (arch), and it would  29 338d7-11: İੇIJૅ Ƞ੝ț Ƞੇıșૅ ਩ijȘ ੖IJȚ IJ૵Ȟ ʌȩȜİȦȞ Įੂ ȝ੻Ȟ IJȣȡĮȞȞȠ૨ȞIJĮȚ Įੂ į੻ įȘȝȠțȡĮIJȠ૨ȞIJĮȚĮੂį੻ਕȡȚıIJȠțȡĮIJȠ૨ȞIJĮȚ  ʌ૵ȢȖ੹ȡȠ੡  Ƞ੝țȠ૨ȞIJȠ૨IJȠțȡĮIJİ૙ਥȞਦțȐıIJૉʌȩȜİȚIJઁਙȡȤȠȞ  ʌȐȞȣȖİ 30 The passage may sound forced in English, but it sounds perfectly natural in Greek. 31 Furthermore, in being specific, Thrasymachus preferred IJȣȡĮȞȞȠ૨ȞIJĮȚ to ȕĮıȚȜİȪȠȞIJĮȚ ("are ruled by a king"). Both verbs can be used together, and are, e.g., at Resp. 576d2. Thrasymachus clearly wished to stress the tyrant.     indeed have been a more natural observation to make, that the governing power (to archon) in each city governs (archei), an observation which could easily have followed upon the use of the more general verbs with the arch suffixes. Rather than use the more natural coupling of a cognate noun and verb (to archon, archei), Thrasymachus has chosen to insinuate that the governing power (to archon) rules over others (kratei).32 This is particularly interesting since the coupling is not submitted to scrutiny in Thrasymachus' questioning. The verb kratei follows from Thrasymachus' choice of verbs in the first question: rule by a tyrant implies kratos, power over others,33 while the other two verbs have krat suffixes. The order of the verbs, ending with the two krat verbs, allows the smooth verbal transition to the second question. The second question asks whether what krats in each city (apparently a given that something "crats") is to archon. Attention is directed to answering what the thing is which "crats" (rules over others) in every city, and away from the unasked question whether something does indeed "crat" in each and every city. The notion that something does rule over others in every city has been slipped in (using the verb kratei) while asking whether it is the governing power that rules over others in every city. Furthermore, the second question moves the governing power from being over the city (it is the city which is tyrannized, etc., in the first question) to being in the city, and now ruling over - it may be inferred already - subjects, the other inhabitants, in the city. This small change prepares the way for the subsequent claim that the ruled in the city are exploited by the governing power.  3. 2. Thrasymachus vs. Hourani's step [ii] Hourani's step [ii] was, "The laws are always made by the rulers for their own advantage. [Fact of psychology]." Here, however, is a literal translation of Thrasymachus' argument (338e1-3)34 Each regime (arche) lays down the laws with a view to the advantage for itself, a democracy democratic (laws), a tyranny tyrannical (laws), and in this way the other (regimes). The argument concerns the governing power (to archon is now he arche), and not, as Hourani claims, the rulers (hoi archontes). The ruling power is conceived to be the constitution itself, such as a democracy or a tyranny. A democracy does always lay down democratic laws, but only in the sense that the laws are those laid down by a democracy, regardless of any advantage or disadvantage accruing therefrom to the democracy. Similarly, tyrannical laws are always tyrannical in that they are laid down by a tyranny, regardless of any advantage or disadvantage accruing therefrom to the tyranny. Thrasymachus, however, clearly wishes his audience to confuse this sense of the adjectives, "pertaining to a democracy/tyranny", with another sense, "advantageous to a democracy/tyranny". This is achieved by mentioning advantage before using these adjectives in the argument. It is, however, a historical fact of politics that a democracy can lay down undemocratic laws, leading to the downfall of that democracy; similarly, a tyranny can lay down untyrannical laws, leading to the downfall of that tyranny. This argument, therefore, has nothing to do with a fact of psychology (indeed, there are no people involved), nor even a fact of politics, but rather an argument based on simple wordplay. It continues the construction of an argument which has the appearance of a general truth regarding all  32 On the distinction, see Glucker (1987) 142-45. 33 Plato's Thrasymachus would no doubt have used IJȣȡĮȞȞȠțȡĮIJȑȦ had there been such a verb, but he had to make do with what there was. 34 338e1-3: IJȓșİIJĮȚįȑȖİIJȠઃȢȞȩȝȠȣȢਦțȐıIJȘਲਕȡȤ੽ʌȡઁȢIJઁĮਫ਼IJૌıȣȝijȑȡȠȞįȘȝȠțȡĮIJȓĮ ȝ੻ȞįȘȝȠțȡĮIJȚțȠȪȢIJȣȡĮȞȞ੿Ȣį੻IJȣȡĮȞȞȚțȠȪȢțĮ੿ĮੂਙȜȜĮȚȠ੡IJȦȢ·     regimes. 3. 3. Thrasymachus vs. Hourani's step [iii] We turn now to Hourani's step [iii], "Justice is obeying the laws. [Definition]". Here is Thrasymachus' argument (338e3-6):35 In laying down [these laws], [the regimes] have made it apparent that this is [what is] just for those ruled, the advantage to themselves (i.e., the regimes' advantage), and they punish anyone transgressing it (i.e., the regimes' advantage) as someone both lawbreaking and unjust. We have already seen that Hourani acknowledges that the alleged definition is not actually in the text. To be more precise, I submit, the definition is deduced from a misinterpretation of the text. Hourani regards the ruling power as rulers who intentionally and arbitrarily define their own advantage as just. Hourani is not alone in this interpretation. Scholars have usually taken the verbਕʌȑijȘȞĮȞ ("made apparent") to mean "declared", "called", etc.,36 adducing a parallel passage which is to be found in Legg. IV. 714c-d. While the argument there is indeed yet another one supporting the advantage of the superior, the superior in that instance is the superior man, and it is the superior man there who expressly calls his laws just. This is not the case in our passage, despite the apparent similarities.37 The verbἀʌȠijĮȓȞȦmay mean "declare" in certain contexts, but it cannot have that meaning here. Simply by laying down laws peculiar to its type of constitution, and punishing those who transgress those laws, a political regime does not declare that its own advantage is just for the ruled; rather, by doing so, it reveals, quite unintentionally, that its own advantage is just for the ruled. It is, furthermore, inconceivable that regimes in the abstract would look to their own interest, let alone declare what is to their own advantage. The superior man of the Laws passage, being human, is able both to look to his own advantage and declare it to be just for the ruled. The sense of the sentence in our passage requiresἀʌȑijȘȞĮȞto have its more usual meaning of "they made apparent". The argument, then, is as follows. Regimes lay down laws to their own advantage; for, as we see, laws are peculiar to the type of regime which laid them down (we have already noted the wordplay in step [ii]). By this action, the regimes (unintentionally) make apparent that this is just for the ruled, the advantage to the regimes themselves; and furthermore (here comes another observation), the law-breaker is punished as unjust. Even on this interpretation, it might be argued, it is necessary to supply Hourani's deduced definition in order to make sense of the argument. As Hourani suggests, without obedience to the laws being considered just, there is no connection between justice and the rulers. It might be added that if the law-breaker (mentioned) is punished as unjust, the lawabider (not mentioned) is surely not punished, and is considered just for obeying the laws. Therefore, the argument would go, obedience to the laws is itself just, and by the same token, the laws themselves might be considered just. The fact is that in his first argument, the only thing Thrasymachus describes as just is the advantage to the regime, and this advantage is not the laws themselves, nor is it obedience to them. Laws are only a means to  35 338e3-6șȑȝİȞĮȚį੻ਕʌ੻ijȘȞĮȞIJȠ૨IJȠįȓțĮȚȠȞIJȠ૙ȢਕȡȤȠȝȑȞȠȚȢİੇȞĮȚ IJઁıijȓıȚıȣȝijȑȡȠȞ țĮ੿IJઁȞIJȠȪIJȠȣਥțȕĮȓȞȠȞIJĮțȠȜȐȗȠȣıȚȞ੪ȢʌĮȡĮȞȠȝȠ૨ȞIJȐIJİțĮ੿ਕįȚțȠ૨ȞIJĮ. 36 E.g., Hourani (1962) 111: "In laying down these laws they have made it plain that what is to their advantage is just for their subjects." Kerferd (1964) 13: "... 'Justice is obedience to the laws' is something which the rulers have brought about by declaring it to be the case, cf. ਕʌȑijȘȞĮȞ in 338e3, ὀνομάσαι in 359a3 and Laws 714d."Guthrie (1969) 93: "All governments make laws in their own interest, and call that justice..." 37 To quote, e.g., Sparshott (1966) 421: "Plato is in any case discernibly a philosopher of multiple connections and ambiguities: arguments and analogies are repeated from dialogue to dialogue with changed emphasis and point."     the end, the advantage of the regime. Thrasymachus gives two reasons why the advantage of the regime is just. One is that the regime lays down laws to its own advantage. The assumption here is that the laws are laid down to promote what is just; hence, since the laws promote the regime's own advantage, what is just turns out to be the regime's own advantage. The second reason is the observation that anyone transgressing the law is punished as someone unjust. This second reason seems to have been added to make the link with justice explicit. If someone not carrying out the advantage of the regime is considered unjust, then this shows - so Thrasymachus with superficial plausibility - that the advantage of the regime is just. We may ask ourselves why Thrasymachus prefers to point to the unjust man rather than the just man, and why he does not say that obedience to the laws is just, or that the laws themselves are just. The answer might be that were he to do any of these things, he would no longer be able to call the advantage of the regimeIJઁįȓțĮȚȠȞ("the just thing", "what is just", "justice"), but onlyįȓțĮȚȠȞ("just", "something just"), one of a plurality of things that are just.38   3. 4. Thrasymachus vs. Hourani's Conclusion And finally, Hourani's fourth step: "[Conclusion]: Therefore justice is the advantage of the stronger." Thrasymachus' argument is as follows (338e6-339a4):39 This, then, O best of men, is what I say is the same just [thing] in all the cities, the advantage of the established regime (arche); and this [i.e., the regime] anywhere "crats" [kratei - rules over others], so that it follows for anyone reasoning rightly that everywhere the same [thing] is just, the advantage of the superior (tou kreittonos). Having already insinuated into the argument that the regime (he arche) or ruling power (to archon) rules over others (kratei) in the city, and having argued that what is just is the advantage of this regime, Thrasymachus now restates in his peroration firstly, that in every city the same thing is just, the advantage of the established regime, and secondly, that the regime anywhere rules over others (kratei). From these premises he concludes that everywhere the same thing is just, the advantage of the superior (tou kreittonos), which is the slogan the argument is intended to prove. He appears to have proved it, but this does not mean that he has proved it logically. The first point to note is that the earlier insinuation that the governing power rules over others (kratei) is now vital to the argument. It is part of the second premise from which the conclusion appears to be drawn, and a listener could be forgiven for thinking that it was a premise based on the earlier argument. The second point to note is that the conclusion which follows from this premise should pertain to the advantage of the power that rules over others (to kratoun - "the thing which rules over others"). However, instead of the more logical conclusion that justice is the advantage of that which rules over others (to tou kratountos sumpheron), Thrasymachus substitutes to tou kreittonos sumpheron, the advantage of the superior.40  38 The slogan supported by this argument is about IJઁ įȓțĮȚȠȞ, "the just thing", or "justice": the definite article does not appear, following Ancient Greek usage, in the predicate. In any case, even if the present passage might appear to be referring only to "something just", the word "just" is predicated of the one and only thing called just in this argument - the advantage of the superior, and the intent is that this exclusively is what is just. 39 338e6-339a4: IJȠ૨IJૅȠ੣Ȟ ਥıIJȚȞ੯ȕȑȜIJȚıIJİ ੔ ȜȑȖȦ ਥȞਖʌȐıĮȚȢ IJĮ૙ȢʌȩȜİıȚȞ IJĮ੝IJઁȞ İੇȞĮȚ įȓțĮȚȠȞIJઁIJોȢțĮșİıIJȘțȣȓĮȢਕȡȤોȢıȣȝijȑȡȠȞǜĮ੢IJȘįȑʌȠȣțȡĮIJİ૙੮ıIJİıȣȝȕĮȓȞİȚIJ૶ੑȡș૵Ȣ ȜȠȖȚȗȠȝȑȞ૳ʌĮȞIJĮȤȠ૨İੇȞĮȚIJઁĮ੝IJઁįȓțĮȚȠȞIJઁIJȠ૨țȡİȓIJIJȠȞȠȢıȣȝijȑȡȠȞ 40 Instead of IJઁIJȠ૨țȡĮIJȠ૨ȞIJȠȢıȣȝijȑȡȠȞ we are given IJઁIJȠ૨țȡİȓIJIJȠȞȠȢıȣȝijȑȡȠȞ.     The whole argument depends upon our conscious or unconscious acceptance of this substitution. The slogan pertained to the superior, yet Thrasymachus has chosen throughout the argument not to mention the superior, only substituting it for the krat-verb in the very last stage, the final conclusion. The krat-verb was insinuated early into the argument in order to be substituted at the last minute. The similarity between krat-stem words and kreitt-stem words, both in meaning and in sound, eases the transition from one to the other. Yet in Attic they are not identical. Indeed, had they been identical, there would have been no need for the subterfuge: Thrasymachus could have used kreitt-stem words throughout to prove his slogan. Thrasymachus has been careful to insinuate that the regime everywhere "crats" without asking Socrates whether every regime is kreitton ("superior"). Had he done so, it is unlikely that Socrates would have agreed without first settling the identity of the inferior. Thrasymachus' argument identifies the inferior as all those who are subject to the laws. In a democracy, the democratic regime comprising the citizens of the polis would turn out to be superior to (some of) themselves - and this would have ruined Thrasymachus' argument. Partly in order to avoid exposing this absurdity, Thrasymachus has taken care not to identify the "superior" with the rulers, and offers an argument which effectively equates the "superior" with the similar sounding "ruling power". Is Thrasymachus confused? It would seem that he is not. His subterfuges, wordgames, equivocations and subtle hints all serve one grand design, to make his slogan appear true. Whatever it was that Thrasymachus wished to prove by his first argument, he has not proved it by philosophical means. The argument is intended not to be logical, but persuasive.  4. THE SLOGAN The slogan itself still eludes our understanding. It is the truth of this slogan which Thrasymachus would have his audience persuaded of by his first argument, but we have seen that the argument itself is not a reliable indicator of the meaning of the slogan. The conclusion to the first argument, strictly speaking, should apply to the ruling power; but this is clearly not what Thrasymachus has in mind, since had it been the case, he would have had no reason to switch from "the ruling power" to "the superior" precisely in the conclusion. Furthermore, the slogan, first enunciated before the argument we have analysed, referred to "the superior" and not "the ruling power". It is this earlier slogan which the first argument is intended to prove, and it is "the superior" rather than "the ruling power" which Thrasymachus wished to prove something about. The "superior", therefore, remains something of a mystery. If the first argument is unreliable, perhaps we can learn more from the rest of the discussion, especially the Socratic elenchus. After all, Socrates is always attempting to reach the truth, is he not? A brief examination of the debate, focussing on the substitutes for "the superior", reveals that it is not only the first argument of Thrasymachus which persuades at the expense of logical consistency.  4. 1. Preliminaries Before Thrasymachus presents his slogan for the first time, he pretends for a while that he wants Socrates to say what justice is. He forbids Socrates to give simple definitions such as "the beneficial", "the profitable", "the gainful", or, finally, "the advantageous" (to sumpheron - "advantage", 336d2). His own slogan, however, says that justice is nothing other than the advantage of the superior (to tou kreittonos sumpheron - 338c1-3). After Thrasymachus' first argument, Socrates will begin his cross-examination by drawing attention to Thrasymachus' simple addition of "of the superior" to one of the forbidden definitions "the advantage" (339a6-9). Having drawn attention to this, however, he does     not immediately ask what "the superior" signifies, but merely wonders whether the resulting claim - that justice is the advantage of the superior - is true (339b2-3). The strategy Socrates adopts in his cross-examination is to show that justice is the advantage of the inferior, or that justice is no more the advantage than the disadvantage of the superior; but his "superior" is as slippery as that of Thrasymachus, and no attempt is made to clear this point up. One might almost imagine that the term is left deliberately vague. It is Clitopho who finally mentions "the superior" in the masculine singular (340b7), clearly signifying "the superior man", and this in a political context, but he appears to assume that this has been the subject of the slogan all along. We shall see later that all the participants have assumed this to be the case. 4. 2. The Superior - not the physically stronger man When Thrasymachus introduces his slogan ("For I say that what is just is nothing other than the advantage of the superior" 338c1-2), he clearly expects his audience to be impressed by it. It is as if he assumes that his audience understands what he means by it, and that what he means by it is something clever, even astonishing. Indeed, they should be astonished were they to know Thrasymachus' usual position. And in fact, at least Glauco knows Thrasymachus' usual position - on which more later (§5). Socrates' first reaction upon hearing the slogan is to feign incomprehension; but he appears to know what Thrasymachus has in mind, since he successfully annoys Thrasymachus with his counter-example (338c6-d2):41 "I don't suppose you mean that if beef gives advantage to the body of Pulydamas the all-round athlete who is superior/stronger than us ਲȝ૵Ȟ țȡİȓIJIJȦȞ  this food is both an advantage to us and just for us who are weaker than him". Thrasymachus thereupon indulges in some name-calling, and accuses Socrates of interpreting the logos where he could do it most harm (d3-4). Such an accusation could not be made without it appearing that Socrates knew exactly what Thrasymachus actually intended. Furthermore, it would seem that Thrasymachus does intend something specific, even if it is hard to pin him down by sheer philosophical analysis of the argument. Among the points which Socrates may have misinterpreted, we may note the following: a) Thrasymachus was making a general claim about justice, or what is just; the whole of what is just is the advantage of the superior. Socrates does identify "just" with "advantage", but these terms are particular, being merely predicated of the subject "beef". b) Socrates construes what is of advantage to the superior to be of advantage (not only just) also to the inferior. Had Thrasymachus intended the advantage to be to both the superior and the inferior, he would not have specified only the superior. c) Socrates posits a physical, common and mundane, advantage. We do not yet know what sort of advantage Thrasymachus had in mind, but it was probably somewhat more than mere beef. d) Socrates uses kreitton in the sense of ischuroteros - "physically stronger". The ambiguity between "superior" and "physically stronger" is the basis for an entire argument in Plato's Gorgias, 42 but the opportunity for a thorough  41 338c6-d2: Ƞ੝ȖȐȡʌȠȣIJȩȖİIJȠȚȩȞįİij૊ȢǜİੁȆȠȣȜȣįȐȝĮȢਲȝ૵ȞțȡİȓIJIJȦȞ੒ʌĮȖțȡĮIJȚĮıIJ੽Ȣ țĮ੿ Į੝IJ૶ ıȣȝijȑȡİȚ IJ੹ ȕȩİȚĮ țȡȑĮ ʌȡઁȢ IJઁ ı૵ȝĮ IJȠ૨IJȠ IJઁ ıȚIJȓȠȞ İੇȞĮȚ țĮ੿ ਲȝ૙Ȟ IJȠ૙Ȣ ਸ਼IJIJȠıȚȞ ਥțİȓȞȠȣıȣȝijȑȡȠȞਚȝĮțĮ੿įȓțĮȚȠȞ 42 In the Gorgias, Socrates finds himself eventually arguing with his host, Callicles, on a theme very     philosophical examination seems to have been thrown away here. Thrasymachus, therefore, intends his slogan to pertain to the advantage specifically of the superior, where the superior is not a physically stronger man. Socrates appears to know what Thrasymachus means, by stating explicitly that his counter-example, the beef of Pulydamas, is probably not what Thrasymachus had in mind. Socrates' counter-example leads to Thrasymachus' first argument in support of his slogan.  4. 3. The Superior - the ruling power We have already seen in our examination of Thraysmachus' first argument (§3) that although the conclusion matches the slogan (...it follows for anyone reasoning rightly that everywhere the same [thing] is just, the advantage of the superior [tou kreittonos] - 339a23), "the superior" is a late substitution for "the ruling power" which has been the superior entity throughout the argument proper. The established regime (arche), identified with the ruling power (to kratoun), becomes in the conclusion the superior (to kreitton). Apart from the similarity in sound and in sense (krat-kreitt, ruling over others, superior), we may suspect further word play here. Logically, Thrasymachus has been talking about the superior thing. His argument, however, pertains to the superior man.43 He can get away with this sleight of hand because the form of the genitive case - "of the superior" - is identical for all genders; tou kreittonos may be interpreted by the audience as masculine, in alignment with their expectations, although it is logically neuter according to the argument supporting the slogan.  4. 4. The Superior - the rulers Thrasymachus has presented his first argument in support of his slogan, and by sleight of hand has substituted throughout the argument "the regime" and "the ruling power" for "the superior" which only appears finally in the conclusion. Socrates' refutation is swift and easily achieved. He begins by asking Thrasymachus whether it is also just to obey the rulers, and Thrasymachus agrees that it is (339b7-9). It appears to be assumed in the subsequent argument that the rulers are superior, and the ruled are inferior; but this is not made explicit. By observing that while it is just to obey the laws, rulers mistakenly make laws not to their own advantage, Socrates arrives at the conclusion (339d1-3):44 "So it is just (dikaion) according to your argument not only to do the advantage of the superior (tou kreittonos), but also the opposite, [namely to  similar to that offered by Thrasymachus, and it takes Socrates a while to push Callicles to express his true opinion regarding the superior man. Having shown that Callicles does not distinguish between the terms "superior" (țȡİȓIJIJȦȞ, opposed to ਸ਼IJIJȦȞ), "better" (ȕİȜIJȓȦȞ, opposed to ȤİȓȡȦȞ), or "worthier" (ਕȝİȓȞȦȞ, opposed to ijĮȣȜȩIJİȡȠȢ - Gorgias 488b2-6), Socrates finds that Callicles also fails to distinguish between "superior" and "physically stronger" (ੁıȤȣȡȩIJİȡȠȢ), even when Socrates reasons that the Many, being numerically stronger than an individual, are "superior", and their laws are therefore those of the naturally superior and better. Finally, when Socrates reaches the logical conclusion that, since the Many are those who establish laws in pursuit of equity (τὸ ἴσον ἔχειν), and since the (numerically) stronger are naturally superior, the just thing both by convention and by nature is to strive for equity (489a8ff.), it is only then that Callicles declares that he means by "the superior" "the better", and not a group of "worthless good-fornothings" (489b7ff.). Callicles had allowed the physically stronger to be the superior, but now backs away from this identification, as it threatens to undermine his position, that the just thing by nature is not to strive for equity, but to outdo, at the expense of others. 43 That this is the case will become clearer in §5 below, but we have already noted in §4.1 that Clitopho assumes that "the superior" of the slogan is the superior man. 44 339d1-3: Ƞ੝ȝȩȞȠȞ ਙȡĮįȓțĮȚȩȞ ਥıIJȚȞ țĮIJ੹ IJઁȞıઁȞ ȜȩȖȠȞ IJઁ IJȠ૨ țȡİȓIJIJȠȞȠȢıȣȝijȑȡȠȞ ʌȠȚİ૙ȞਕȜȜ੹țĮ੿IJȠ੝ȞĮȞIJȓȠȞIJઁȝ੽ıȣȝijȑȡȠȞ.     do] what is not the advantage [of the superior]" This is considered a refutation of the slogan, since justice is now associated not only with the advantage but also with the disadvantage of the superior. Interestingly, the refutation refers to the superior in the singular, although it was Socrates who had shifted the discussion from the ruling power to the rulers themselves. The singular superior entity is treated in this argument as the plural rulers.45 Thrasymachus reacts to this refutation in a fairly predictable way ("What are you saying?" d4). Unfortunately for him, it allows Socrates to recapitulate his argument (e1-8). This time he explicitly identifies the rulers with "the superior" in the plural (tois archousi te kai kreittosi - 2), but remarkably, this does not prevent him from reverting to the singular form of "superior" in his conclusion, made all the more remarkable by the appearance there of "inferior" in the plural (339e6-8):46 "Then, most wise Thrasymachus, doesn't it necessarily follow that it is just (dikaion) to do the opposite of what you say? For it seems that it is the disadvantage of the [singular] superior which is laid upon the [plural] inferiors to do."47 This restated refutation is even stronger than the original, since the conclusion, taken on its own, appears to prove that the inferior subjects are (always?) commanded to do what is to the disadvantage (never the advantage) of the superior ruler. The debate between Socrates and Thrasymachus breaks down here, allowing the intervention of members of the audience. Polemarchus, for one, seems satisfied by this refutation.  4. 5. The Superior - a superior man, a ruler Polemarchus sides with Socrates. He repeats the plural to singular phenomenon, mentioning "the superior" in the plural during the argument (tous kreittous - 340b2), but reverting to the singular in his recapitulation of the refutation (340b4-5):48 "the advantage of the superior [tou kreittonos] would be no more just than the not-advantage." Clitopho in a cameo performance pitches in to help out Thrasymachus. His interpretation of what Thrasymachus means is that what is just is what seems to the superior man to be the advantage of the superior, whether it is actually advantageous or not (340c1-5). Thrasymachus immediately rejects this appeal to mere appearance, and offers his own counter-proposal. In the process, a new element introduced by Clitopho is implicitly accepted. On the way to his proposal, Clitopho referred for the first time in this dialogue to the unambiguously masculine form ho kreitton ੒ țȡİȓIJIJȦȞ340b7), meaning the superior man. This is remarkable, given that the previous arguments have been dealing with the  45 We might note in passing some of the other underhand manoeuvres Socrates executes. He has somehow obliged Thrasymachus to agree that more than one thing is just (obedience to the laws is also just); but the slogan is about the one thing that is just, the advantage of the superior. Why Thrasymachus has to agree to this will become apparent later (§§4.7, 6.4 below). Furthermore, Socrates has shifted the significance of what is just, from being to doing. This is a shift which is reflected in subsequent formulations of the slogan. 46 339e6-8: ਛȡĮ IJȩIJİ ੯ ıȠijȫIJĮIJİ ĬȡĮıȪȝĮȤİ Ƞ੝ț ਕȞĮȖțĮ૙ȠȞ ıȣȝȕĮȓȞİȚȞ Į੝IJઁ Ƞਫ਼IJȦıȓ įȓțĮȚȠȞ İੇȞĮȚ ʌȠȚİ૙Ȟ IJȠ੝ȞĮȞIJȓȠȞ ਲ਼ ੔ ıઃ ȜȑȖİȚȢ IJઁ Ȗ੹ȡ IJȠ૨ țȡİȓIJIJȠȞȠȢ ਕıȪȝijȠȡȠȞ įȒʌȠȣ ʌȡȠıIJȐIJIJİIJĮȚIJȠ૙Ȣਸ਼IJIJȠıȚȞʌȠȚİ૙Ȟ. 47 I.e., the inferior subjects are commanded to perform what is actually to the disadvantage of the superior ruler. 48 340b4-5: Ƞ੝į੻Ȟȝ઼ȜȜȠȞIJઁIJȠ૨țȡİ૙IJIJȠȞȠȢıȣȝijȑȡȠȞįȓțĮȚȠȞਗȞİ੅Șਲ਼IJઁȝ੽ıȣȝijȑȡȠȞ. The formulation "no more X than Y" is a common mode of refutation in eristic debate, on which see §6.1 below.     regime or with rulers in the plural. Could it be that Clitopho (along with the rest of the audience) has been aware all along that "the superior" of the slogan is intended to be the superior man? 4. 6. The Superior - a strictly expert ruler Thrasymachus strongly disagrees with Clitopho's suggestion (340c6). His counterproposal implicitly introduces yet another new element, expertise, and it is this, rather than the implicitly accepted shift to the superior individual, which becomes the centre of attention. Thrasymachus gives examples of various craftsmen, and he slips easily from craftsman to expert to ruler (demiourgos, sophos, archon).49 His new argument is as follows. While rulers in the loose sense make mistakes, the ruler qua ruler50 does not make mistakes. Mistakes betray a lack of expertise in the agent at the moment that the error is made, and a person lacking expertise is not an expert.51 The ruler worthy of the name of ruler is the one who is not mistaken when he legislates; this is what Thrasymachus meant by the ruler who legislates what is best for himself, and it is this (the best for the ruler) which must be done by the ruled (singular!).52 Thrasymachus concludes (341a3-4):53 "So that I say what I said from the beginning was just, to do the advantage of the superior" Thrasymachus appears to have successfully countered Socrates' refutation. Those who legislate to their own disadvantage are mistaken, and hence not rulers at all. Those who legislate to their own advantage are not mistaken, but rather are expert rulers, and hence rulers tout court. No ruler, therefore, legislates to his own disadvantage. And since the ruler is the superior, what Thrasymachus originally claimed still stands. Thrasymachus clearly wishes his audience to believe that he is making the same claim that he made originally. He asserts that what he said then is what he says now. Indeed, the slogan - to tou kreittonos sumpheron - is still discernible, and an inattentive listener might not spot the differences. However: a) an additional word has been inserted into the slogan, the infinitive "to do" (poiein). It was Socrates who shifted the field of justice from being to doing (§4.4 above), and Thrasymachus has adapted. Of course, being the advantage of the superior is not the same as doing it; yet Thrasymachus has now asserted that each of these is (exclusively) what is just. b) the argument supporting the slogan has shifted from treating the superior as a regime to the superior as a ruler in the strict sense. Neither substitute for the superior is what is really intended by the term.   4. 7. The Superior - crafts, a craft in the strict sense Socrates does not question the notion of ruler qua ruler. On the contrary, he  49 340e4-5: įȘȝȚȠȣȡȖઁȢਲ਼ıȠijઁȢਲ਼ਙȡȤȦȞ... 50 340e8-341a1: IJઁȞਙȡȤȠȞIJĮțĮșૅ੖ıȠȞਙȡȤȦȞਥıIJȓȞ... "the ruler, so far as he is a ruler..." The point Thrasymachus is making is that a craftsman who makes a mistake is not, strictly speaking, a craftsman at the moment that he makes a mistake. The mistake arises from a lack of knowledge. 51 The argument is sophistic and relies on the acceptance of a black and white dichotomy: a person when performing something without error is an outright expert in that field; but when performing with error is entirely lacking in that expertise, and undeserving of the name associated with that expertise. 52 341a2: IJ૶ਕȡȤȠȝȑȞ૳. This ruled individual is explicitly identified with the inferior (IJ૶ਸ਼IJIJȠȞȚ) for the first time only at 341b7, and by Socrates, but again apparently incidentally, in a question designed to clarify whether the individual superior ruler under discussion is a ruler in the loose sense or in the strict sense. 53 341a3-4: ੮ıIJİ੖ʌİȡਥȟਕȡȤોȢ਩ȜİȖȠȞįȓțĮȚȠȞȜȑȖȦIJઁIJȠ૨țȡİȓIJIJȠȞȠȢʌȠȚİ૙ȞıȣȝijȑȡȠȞ.     develops the idea of craftsmen in the strict sense of the word, and crafts (technai) in the strict sense - and an already bizarre conversation becomes positively surreal (342c8-d2):54 "Yet indeed, Thrasymachus, crafts govern (archousi) and rule over (kratousi) that of which they are crafts (technai)." He agreed with great difficulty. "So no body of knowledge (episteme) looks to, or demands, the advantage of the (singular) superior (to tou kreittonos sumpheron). but rather the [advantage] of the (singular) inferior ruled by it." He also agreed to this eventually... What might appear at first sight surprising is that Thrasymachus actually agrees to these claims, albeit with difficulty. The terms of reference have never been so remote from what Thrasymachus intended by "the superior". But Socrates seems to be playing the same game that Thrasymachus has been playing, using substitutes instead of the real thing, substitutes which may be replaced by "the superior" in the conclusion, in such a way that the arguments of Thrasymachus and Socrates appear respectively to support and refute the slogan. Since they are playing the same game, Thrasymachus cannot but accept Socrates' blatantly outrageous claims. We may note that: a) Socrates manages to retain the impression that he is still talking about Thrasymachus' original claim by using terms which have already been used by Thrasymachus, including part of the slogan itself ("the advantage of the superior") and the verbs "govern" and "rule over others". b) techne is variously translated as "art", "craft", "trade", or "skill". I have elsewhere observed that it would be more useful to consider techne as the synthesis of mathema and epitedeuma, a learned knowledge and its practice.55 The knowledge, once acquired, is episteme, which is what Socrates refers to here. Socrates has Thrasymachus agree that the theoretical side, the knowledge, exists not for the benefit of the craft itself, but for the thing practised by the craft: for example, the theory of horsecraft does not benefit horsecraft, but horses. This claim appears even more reasonable since Socrates has earlier emphasized that he is talking about craft in the strict sense (342b5-7), just as Thrasymachus had earlier postulated a ruler in the strict sense. Craft in the strict sense is perfect, with anything less being no craft at all, and as such, it can receive no benefit from anything, not even its own theoretical side. Socrates is paying back Thrasymachus in his own sophistic currency, not just because it is a form of poetic justice, but because this is, as it were, a currency which Thrasymachus must honour because of his own heavy stake in it. c) Socrates portrays craft in the strict sense as superior to its subject which he portrays as inferior to it. This he achieves by portraying craft as somehow governing or ruling over its subject. Thrasymachus used the same verbs to establish the superiority of the regime over those ruled by it. In the context of a craft, the use of the verbs is somewhat strained. Are horses ruled over by horsecraft, or rather by more mundane horsemasters? Is a ship ruled over by shipcraft, or by a captain? d) The subject treated by a craft is assumed to derive benefit from that craft. This assumption is questioned neither by Socrates nor by Thrasymachus. 56 One  54 342c8-d2: ਕȜȜ੹ȝȒȞ੯ĬȡĮıȪȝĮȤİਙȡȤȠȣıȓ ȖİĮੂ IJȑȤȞĮȚ țĮ੿ țȡĮIJȠ૨ıȚȞ ਥțİȓȞȠȣȠ੤ʌȑȡ İੁıȚȞIJȑȤȞĮȚ2ıȣȞİȤȫȡȘıİȞਥȞIJĮ૨șĮțĮ੿ȝȐȜĮȝȩȖȚȢ2Ƞ੝țਙȡĮਥʌȚıIJȒȝȘȖİȠ੝įİȝȓĮIJઁIJȠ૨ țȡİȓIJIJȠȞȠȢıȣȝijȑȡȠȞıțȠʌİ૙Ƞ੝įૅਥʌȚIJȐIJIJİȚਕȜȜ੹IJઁIJȠ૨ਸ਼IJIJȠȞȩȢIJİțĮ੿ਕȡȤȠȝȑȞȠȣਫ਼ʌઁਦĮȣIJોȢ 2ıȣȞȦȝȠȜȩȖȘıİȝ੻ȞțĮ੿IJĮ૨IJĮIJİȜİȣIJ૵Ȟ 55 Ludlam (1991) 39. The formulation is based on what is said by Socrates in Plato's Laches 185b1-4. 56 The assumption here that crafts only benefit may be contrasted with an earlier assumption     need only think of a doctor skilled in poisons and working as an assassin to wonder whether the recipient of such a craft would agree. In fact, a craft is neutral, since it may be used for good or ill. 57 Socrates, however, here emphasizes advantage, since his present intent is to refute Thrasymachus by demonstrating that the advantage falls not to the superior (as claimed by Thrasymachus) but to the inferior. 4. 8. The Superior - a craftsman in the strict sense Socrates is nearing his refutation of the slogan. He continues to ask questions which Thrasymachus finds increasingly difficult to answer. The gist of the argument is this. Just as crafts, strictly speaking, look to the advantage of the subjects over which they rule, so too do craftsmen in the strict sense look to the advantage of their subjects. Socrates portrays each craftsman as the ruler (archon) of his subject, and indeed his field of expertise is called his arche - a word which in Thrasymachus' first argument we translated as "regime". Here "domain" might make better sense. For the Greek audience, however, there is only the one word arche, and they might be forgiven for thinking that Socrates is referring to the same thing that Thrasymachus was. We could perhaps interpret this wider notion which includes "regime" and "domain" as, for example, the dominion of the archon or ruler. The final stage of the argument before it is curtailed appears at 342e6-11:58 "Therefore," I said, "O Thrasymachus, neither does anyone else in any dominion (arche), so far as he is a ruler (archon), look to, and demand, the advantage to himself, but rather the [advantage] to the (singular) ruled and whatever he is a craftsman of; and looking to that, and to what is an advantage and fitting to that, he says all the things which he says, and does [all the things] which he does. The refutation of the slogan, had it followed, would have mentioned justice. Socrates has already demonstrated that the superior is concerned not with his own advantage but with that of the inferior, and the refutation is imminent. Indeed, Socrates now remarks that at this point it was clear to everyone that the argument about what is just had been turned upside down (343a1-2). That is, even the audience could anticipate the next couple of steps which would have ended with the refutation "What is just is the advantage of the inferior". The reasoning behind the refutation might have been as follows: the ruler of a polis is also a ruler of his craft, a craftsman in the strict sense, and as such is superior. By virtue of his craft, he makes laws which are always to the advantage of the subject of his craft, the inferior; justice, therefore, is the advantage of the inferior. This refutation would not be all that consistent or realistic, of course, but we have seen throughout that logic, reality, and a philosophical desire for truth are not major factors in this debate: a) It has not been determined that the ruler of a polis has a craft, which he requires in order to be - according to the argument - superior. b) Even if the ruler of a polis is a craftsman, and hence superior, it has not been determined what is the inferior. The tendency in this argument would be to assume that the other inhabitants of the polis are inferior to the ruler, as in Thrasymachus' first argument, but that type of inferiority would be political,  prominent in the discussion between Socrates and Polemarchus that craftsmen are beneficial to friends, but harmful to enemies (332d10-e2). 57 See the many examples in Plato's Hippias Minor. 58 342e6-11: Ƞ੝țȠ૨Ȟ਷ȞįૅਥȖȫ੯ĬȡĮıȪȝĮȤİȠ੝į੻ਙȜȜȠȢȠ੝įİ੿ȢਥȞȠ੝įİȝȚઽਕȡȤૌțĮșૅ ੖ıȠȞਙȡȤȦȞ ਥıIJȓȞ IJઁĮਫ਼IJ૶ıȣȝijȑȡȠȞıțȠʌİ૙ Ƞ੝įૅ ਥʌȚIJȐIJIJİȚ ਕȜȜ੹ IJઁ IJ૶ਕȡȤȠȝȑȞ૳țĮ੿મਗȞ Į੝IJઁȢįȘȝȚȠȣȡȖૌțĮ੿ʌȡઁȢਥțİ૙ȞȠȕȜȑʌȦȞțĮ੿IJઁਥțİȓȞ૳ıȣȝijȑȡȠȞțĮ੿ʌȡȑʌȠȞțĮ੿ȜȑȖİȚਘȜȑȖİȚ țĮ੿ʌȠȚİ૙ਘʌȠȚİ૙ਚʌĮȞIJĮ     while the craft argument has used "inferior" to describe that to which a craft is applied (as horsecraft is applied to horses). Is statecraft applied to citizens, or is it applied to the polis as a whole? Are the laws to the advantage of the inhabitants of the polis, or rather to the polis in all its aspects? c) The ruler in this argument is infallible, since he is a ruler in the strict sense; it is only when his actions conform with his craft that he is a ruler. d) His craft, being a craft in the strict sense, is perfect (anything less would not be a craft). 4. 9. The Superior - injustice, the unjust man When Socrates notes that it was clear to everyone that the argument about what is just had been turned upside down (343a1-2), "everyone" must have included Thrasymachus, for the latter is immediately described as launching into an unpleasant exchange with Socrates, which leads to his second speech in support of his slogan. Thrasymachus had intended to leave after his speech, but he is restrained by the audience (344d1-5). That is to say, Thrasymachus' strategy was to avoid the refutation following his first argument, provide new persuasive support for his slogan, then leave before Socrates could threaten him again with a second refutation. It is the second speech which yields the "position" that justice is another's good, one's own hurt (position c on p. 420). While this indeed can be consistent or inconsistent with the first "position", that justice is the advantage of the superior (the slogan), depending on the point of view of the one performing justly in each case (the superior or the inferior), it should be noted that Thrasymachus intends the argument as a whole to support the slogan ("and as I said from the beginning" 344c6-7). The speech is long enough (343b1-344c8) to allow "the superior" to assume a variety of guises, some already familiar to us, and some new: 343b1-c1: [Implicit] The superior = the rulers (archontes) in the strict sense. Shepherds look not to the advantage of their animals but of their masters and of themselves. Similarly, in cities, the rulers in the strict sense (here "those truly rulers") look to their own advantage, not of those ruled by them. c1-5: [Explicit] The superior = the ruling power (archon). Socrates is so far from understanding justice and injustice that he does not know that justice is really another's good, the advantage of the superior and the ruling [element] (tou kreittonos te kai archontos sumpheron), the hurt of the [element] obeying and serving... c5-6: [continued] ... and injustice is the opposite. That is, injustice is one's own good, but still the advantage of the superior. c6-7: [Implicit] The superior = injustice (adikia). Injustice rules (archei) "the truly simpleminded and just" (plural).59 c7-d1: [Explicitly superior man, vague designation] The superior = the ruler? the unjust man? "The ruled do the advantage of that (man), him being superior, and make that (man) happy by serving him, but themselves [they make happy] not at all."60 In the context, "that man" would logically be the ruler, the one served by the ruled; but injustice has just been mentioned, and "that man" could well be the unjust man; an unjust man is indeed about to be mentioned explicitly in the next sentence, although not  59 343c5-7: ਲį੻ਕįȚțȓĮIJȠ੝ȞĮȞIJȓȠȞțĮ੿ਙȡȤİȚIJ૵Ȟ੪ȢਕȜȘș૵Ȣİ੝ȘșȚț૵ȞIJİțĮ੿įȚțĮȓȦȞ. ("but injustice is the opposite, and rules the truly simpleminded and just"). 60 343c7-d1: ȠੂįૅਕȡȤȩȝİȞȠȚʌȠȚȠ૨ıȚȞIJઁਥțİȓȞȠȣıȣȝijȑȡȠȞțȡİȓIJIJȠȞȠȢ੕ȞIJȠȢțĮ੿İ੝įĮȓȝȠȞĮ ਥțİ૙ȞȠȞʌȠȚȠ૨ıȚȞਫ਼ʌȘȡİIJȠ૨ȞIJİȢĮ੝IJ૶ਦĮȣIJȠઃȢį੻Ƞ੝įૅ੒ʌȦıIJȚȠ૨Ȟ     immediately in the context of ruling. Finally, "that man" could mean the unjust ruler. d1-6 [Explicit] An inferior = a just man "It must be looked at in this way, O most simpleminded Socrates, that a just man is everywhere inferior to an unjust."61 d6-e6 The just man always gets a bad deal in every transaction with an unjust man. Even when he holds a position of power (arche) he loses out, if only because he neglects his personal business. 343e7-344a1 [By Inference] The superior = the unjust man "The unjust man has all the opposite of these. For I mean by the one I've just mentioned the one who can outdo (pleonektein) in great things."62 344a2-b1 [Implicit] The superior = the most perfect injustice, tyranny To assess how much more worthwhile it is to be unjust than just, Thrasymachus recommends going to the most perfect injustice ਥʌ੿IJ੽ȞIJİȜİȦIJȐIJȘȞਕįȚțȓĮȞ- a3). This thing is tyranny ਩ıIJȚȞį੻ IJȠ૨IJȠ IJȣȡĮȞȞȓȢ It is this tyranny itself, rather than the tyrant, which Thrasymachus describes as performing the greatest injustices. b2-c2 [Implicit] The superior = the perfect tyrant While petty criminals, the unjust on a small scale, are condemned when caught, "someone" who performs the most extreme acts of injustice openly, instead of base names, "they are called happy and blessed" (the change from singular and plural is in the text), not only by [his citizens], but by all who realize that he (singular) has committed the complete injustice IJ੽Ȟ੖ȜȘȞਕįȚțȓĮȞ਱įȚțȘțȩIJĮ  c3-4 [Implicit] The inferior = those too weak to prevent injustice to themselves = the just "For those who criticize injustice criticize it because they are afraid, not of doing acts of injustice, but of suffering them."63 This reflects what Glauco portrays as Thrasymachus' usual position. c4-8 [Conclusion] The superior = injustice, unjust tyranny? "Thus, O Socrates, injustice is something stronger, freer and more masterful than justice, when it has come about sufficiently, and, as I was saying from the beginning, what-is-just happens to be the advantage of the superior, and what is unjust is profitable and advantageous to itself."64 This is where Thrasymachus ended his speech and intended to get up and leave. He appears to have justified his slogan (underlined), but as usual, what stands in for "the superior" during the argument is not necessarily what Thrasymachus or his audience intend or expect it to designate. The others listening to the debate between Thrasymachus and Socrates physically restrain Thrasymachus so that Socrates can refute him properly. The refutation is easy, employing terms already agreed upon in the earlier cross-examination. Socrates reverts to  61 343d1-3: ıțȠʌİ૙ıșĮȚįȑ੯ İ੝ȘșȑıIJĮIJİȈȫțȡĮIJİȢȠਫ਼IJȦı੿ȤȡȒ੖IJȚįȓțĮȚȠȢਕȞ੽ȡਕįȓțȠȣ ʌĮȞIJĮȤȠ૨਩ȜĮIJIJȠȞ਩ȤİȚ It follows that an unjust man is everywhere superior to a just man. We may note in passing that Thrasymachus, in calling Socrates most simpleminded, is mockingly insinuating that Socrates is most just. 62 343e7-344a1: IJ૶ į੻ ਕįȓț૳ ʌȐȞIJĮ IJȠȪIJȦȞ IJਕȞĮȞIJȓĮ ਫ਼ʌȐȡȤİȚ ȜȑȖȦ Ȗ੹ȡ ੖Ȟʌİȡ ȞȣȞį੽ ਩ȜİȖȠȞIJઁȞȝİȖȐȜĮįȣȞȐȝİȞȠȞʌȜİȠȞİțIJİ૙Ȟ We shall see later that Thrasymachus consistently equates injustice with pleonexia, outdoing; that is, gaining at the expense of others. 63 344c3-4: Ƞ੝ Ȗ੹ȡ IJઁ ʌȠȚİ૙Ȟ IJ੹ ਙįȚțĮ ਕȜȜ੹ IJઁ ʌȐıȤİȚȞ ijȠȕȠȪȝİȞȠȚ ੑȞİȚįȓȗȠȣıȚȞ Ƞੂ ੑȞİȚįȓȗȠȞIJİȢIJ੽ȞਕįȚțȓĮȞ 64 344c4-8: Ƞ੢IJȦȢ੯ȈȫțȡĮIJİȢțĮ੿ ੁıȤȣȡȩIJİȡȠȞțĮ੿ ਥȜİȣșİȡȚȫIJİȡȠȞțĮ੿ įİıʌȠIJȚțȫIJİȡȠȞ ਕįȚțȓĮ įȚțĮȚȠıȪȞȘȢ ਥıIJ੿Ȟ ੂțĮȞ૵Ȣ ȖȚȖȞȠȝȑȞȘ țĮ੿ ੖ʌİȡ ਥȟ ਕȡȤોȢ ਩ȜİȖȠȞ IJઁ ȝ੻Ȟ IJȠ૨ țȡİȓIJIJȠȞȠȢ ıȣȝijȑȡȠȞIJઁįȓțĮȚȠȞIJȣȖȤȐȞİȚ੕ȞIJઁįૅਙįȚțȠȞਦĮȣIJ૶ȜȣıȚIJİȜȠ૨ȞIJİțĮ੿ıȣȝijȑȡȠȞ.     the position that the ruler/craftsman qua ruler/craftsman is concerned with the advantage of what is ruled by him. Strictly speaking, any payment accruing to himself is the result of the wage-earning craft, which he has along with the craft by which he is known as a craftsman. It is interesting that Thrasymachus feels obliged to agree to this, albeit with great difficulty (esp. 346c9-12). Socrates eventually turns to another point Thrasymachus had raised during his second account (345a), and claims that he regards it as more important: "To this, then, I in no way agree with Thrasymachus, that what is just is the advantage of the superior. But we shall examine this on another occasion. What seems to me greater by far is what Thrasymachus now says, asserting that the life of the unjust man is superior to that of the just man" (347d8-e4). What does Socrates mean by saying that they will examine Thrasymachus' first claim on another occasion? Has Thrasymachus' slogan not already been examined and found wanting? Socrates is implying that the claim has not been examined at all, and we are now in a position to see that indeed, the slogan has been dealt with in such a way by both antagonists that nothing of substance has been clearly stated, defended, or refuted. Is Thrasymachus' claim, then, not worthy of examination in this of all dialogues? To answer that question, we would need to know what exactly the slogan meant. And, of course, there's the rub. 5. THRASYMACHUS IN BOOK II It should be fairly clear by now that Thrasymachus does not say what he means, but is prepared to use verbal trickery to appear to support his slogan. Worse still, there is no reason to believe that he even takes his slogan seriously. To cap it all, Socrates is no real help to us, as he is just as willing as Thrasymachus to play word games, and appears intent only on refuting the slogan by any means. Having refuted it, he is prepared to abandon it. So what does Thrasymachus mean? What does he intend by his slogan? We already have reason to believe that his slogan is understood in a certain way by at least some of his audience, although we do not yet know what that way is, beyond the notion that the superior is a man (so Clitopho, §4.5 above). Bearing in mind that our questions refer not to the historical Thrasymachus, but to Plato's dramatic character, Thrasymachus, we should look to the drama for our answers. 5. 1. Who Speaks for Thrasymachus? Near the beginning of Book II, Glauco states that he will go over Thrasymachus' account once again.65 It is sometimes doubted whether Glauco gives an accurate account of Thrasymachus' views; but Thrasymachus is still in attendance during Glauco's presentation.66 Had Plato the dramatist wished the reader to understand that Thrasymachus objected to Glauco's presentation of his views, he could have had Thrasymachus object to them, or have Socrates describe members of the audience restraining an irate Thrasymachus in the manner of his description of Thrasymachus preceding the debate between them in Book I, or any other elementary dramatic device of this sort. For the  65 358c1-2: ਥʌĮȞĮȞİȫıȠȝĮȚIJઁȞĬȡĮıȣȝȐȤȠȣȜȩȖȠȞțĮ੿ʌȡ૵IJȠȞȝ੻Ȟਥȡ૵įȚțĮȚȠıȪȞȘȞȠੈȠȞ İੇȞĮȓijĮıȚȞțĮ੿੖șİȞȖİȖȠȞȑȞĮȚ 66 Having been restrained when he intended to leave earlier (344d1-5), he is listening, and even enters the conversation for a few lines in Book V (450a-b). Contrast the early exit of Cephalus, "leaving the way open to a new phase in the discussion to which he is not similarly suited" - Harrison (1967) 29. On entrances and silent presences in Platonic dialogues, see Liebersohn (2005) 309-10 and n. 16.     purposes of the drama, the position Glauco attributes to Thrasymachus is the one Thrasymachus is normally considered to hold.67 The dramatic Thrasymachus' true position, as expounded by Glauco in Book II, should be regarded as the criterion by which to assess Thrasymachus' performance in Book I. 5. 2. Thrasymachus' account of justice Here is the relevant part of Glauco's presentation in which he describes the account of justice given by Thrasymachus and "tens of thousands of others" (358c7-8). I give a fairly literal translation (358e3-359b6): "It has come about by nature ʌİijȣțȑȞĮȚ  they say, that to commit injustice ਕįȚțİ૙Ȟ is a good thing ਕȖĮșȩȞhenceforth "benefit"), and to suffer injustice ਕįȚțİ૙ıșĮȚ is a bad thing țĮțȩȞhenceforth "harm"),68 and the harm in suffering injustice exceeds the benefit from committing injustice, so that when people mutually commit and suffer injustice, and have a taste of both, it seems to those who are unable to escape the one and choose the other, that to agree amongst themselves to do neither is profitable; then (they continue) they began to lay down their own laws ȞȩȝȠȣȢ and agreements ıȣȞșȒțĮȢ and called what is demanded IJઁ ਥʌȓIJĮȖȝĮ by the law ੒ȞȩȝȠȢ customary ȞȩȝȚȝȠȞ and just įȓțĮȚȠȞ  and this (they say) is the origin ȖȑȞİıȚȢ and the essence Ƞ੝ıȓĮ of justice įȚțĮȚȠıȪȞȘ - that it is between what is best, namely, not to pay the penalty for committing injustice, and what is worst, namely, being unable to avenge oneself for injustice suffered; (they say that) the just thing ("what is just" - IJઁįȓțĮȚȠȞ being in the middle of these two, is loved not as something good, but - because of a weakness [i.e., because they are too weak] to commit injustice - as something honoured; for the one who is able to do it, and is truly a man, would never (they say) make any agreement with anyone not to commit or suffer injustice; he would be mad. So this and such is the nature ijȪıȚȢ) of justice įȚțĮȚȠıȪȞȘ  Socrates, and from which things such things have come about by nature ʌȑijȣțİ so the argument goes." Thus injustice (adikia) was the natural condition subsisting between all men, until, by a natural evolution, weaker men, for whom the harm of suffering injustice outweighed the benefit of committing injustice, made agreements among themselves to desist from injustice. The agreements were laws. What was demanded by the law they called customary and just (dikaion). What is just (to dikaion) is neither a harm nor a benefit, but something neutral, and preferable to suffering injustice. Weaker men prefer to do what is just not because they are forced to do so by the law, but because of their natural (individual) inability to control injustice and commit it without suffering it. Injustice (adikia) is the original natural condition; but justice (dikaiosune) is the natural condition subsisting between weaker men accepting laws designed to prevent injustice.69  67 For claims of misinterpretation, see, e.g., Sparshott (1966) 431: "But Glaucon and Adeimantus plainly misinterpret Thrasymachus on the issue of the conventionality of justice, for they take him to hold that the just man could be unjust if he dared (360c), whereas in fact he had attributed justice to 'an honest simplicity' (panu gennaia euetheia, 348c12)." 68 "Harm" and "benefit" were the normal senses of țĮțȩȞ and ਕȖĮșȩȞ in presocratic usage: cf. e.g. the opening argument of Dissoi Logoi. 69 Thrasymachus' account as presented by Glauco emphasizes the prior natural state of injustice (ʌİijȣțȑȞĮȚ 358e3) and the natural evolution of justice: ijȪıȚȢ įȚțĮȚȠıȪȞȘȢ 359b4 ʌȑijȣțİ 359b5. Thrasymachus does not seem to be bothered by the discrepancy between the chronological priority of injustice to justice and the logical priority of justice to injustice (injustice is the negation of justice, in Greek as     Glauco has now fulfilled the first task he had set himself, to present Thrasymachus' usual account of the nature of justice. He now moves on to the second task, to present Thrasymachus' argument that the just man would behave exactly like the unjust man were he able. He proceeds to tell the famous myth of the ring of Gyges, during which we learn a little more about the nature of justice and injustice as seen by Thrasymachus and tens of thousands of others. Injustice is equated with pleonexia, which is often translated as greed or self-seeking. What needs to be emphasized is the connotation of gaining at the expense of others. Sometimes "outdoing" will do. Injustice is contrasted with justice, which is equated with honouring equity (to ison = the equal).70 According to Glauco's report in this second section, it is claimed that the pursuit of pleonexia is natural, while the pursuit of equity is forced by nomos (359c2-6). What is meant by nomos here? Many sophistic accounts of oppositions between what is real and what is conventional oppose things which are "by nature" with things which are "by convention". The word for convention is nomos, the same word we have seen used in the first section of Thrasymachus' account to mean "law". Thus the opposition here between pleonexia and equity seems to be between the natural and the merely conventional. Yet in the first section, the naturally inferior individuals are forced - by their inability to prevent suffering injustice - to come to a mutual agreement (henceforward the law) to cease committing injustice and pursue equity instead; the new relationship between men is as natural as the old, although they are mutually opposed. It might appear, therefore, that the opposition in the second section is between the natural and the merely conventional, but the actual opposition might well be between that which "all nature naturally pursues as a good",71 and what is forced by law, a naturally evolving agreement between weak men, a natural second best for the naturally inferior. We see, therefore, that the "notorious nomos/physis antithesis", 72 the convention/nature antithesis, when it finally appears, is not so clear-cut as it is in some other sophistic accounts of justice.73 Injustice and justice are both natural, although it is less natural to be just than unjust. Given the opportunity (such as a ring of invisibility74), the just man would commit pleonexia to the same degree as the unjust man (360b3-c3). Interestingly, the account does not refer to the superior individual explicitly, but the unjust man is the one everyone would like to be; they praise justice out of fear of being the victim of injustice. We may equate the inferior with the just (those unable to derive more benefit than harm from injustice), and the superior with the unjust (the individual who somehow manages to get away with his pleonexia).75 In these terms, justice is clearly the  in English). Thrasymachus is using injustice loosely to refer to pleonexia in general, and it is really pleonexia which he regards as naturally prior to equity. 70 The equation was not uncommon at the time; the term ੅ıĮ in democratic political contexts meant something like "equal [rights]" and could appear in conjunction with įȓțĮȚĮ, e.g. Demosthenes 21. 67; cognates of ʌȜİȠȞİȟȓĮ are to be found opposed to cognates of ੁıȩIJȘȢ, e.g. Ƞ੝ȝȩȞȠȞ ੅ıȠȞਕȜȜ੹țĮ੿ ʌȜȑȠȞ ਩ȤİȚȞ Isoc. 17. 57. It is not accidental that the only appearance of the word ੁıȩIJȘȢ in the Politeia occurs at the end of the account of democracy which is portrayed there (flatteringly or unflatteringly according to one's inclinations) as providing blanket equality to equal and unequal alike (ਲįİ૙ĮʌȠȜȚIJİȓĮțĮ੿ ਙȞĮȡȤȠȢțĮ੿ʌȠȚțȓȜȘੁıȩIJȘIJȐIJȚȞĮ੒ȝȠȓȦȢ੅ıȠȚȢIJİțĮ੿ਕȞȓıȠȚȢįȚĮȞȑȝȠȣıĮ - 8. 558c5). 71 359c5: ੔ʌ઼ıĮijȪıȚȢįȚȫțİȚȞʌȑijȣțİȞ੪ȢਕȖĮșȩȞ... 72 Harrison (1967) 33. 73 E.g., in Antiphon the Sophist, On Truth (B44 DK), injustice is by nature, justice is by convention. In Plato's Gorgias, Callicles distinguishes between two types of justice, natural and conventional. 74 The ring of invisibility (359c6-360b2) is essentially another way of acting without witnesses. Cf. Antiphon the Sophist's recommendation to follow the laws when there are witnesses, but to follow nature when there are not (B44 col. 1, lines 12-23 DK). 75 Cf. the superior individual and the inferior individuals in Callicles' account. The inferior, he says, equating them with the Many, are those who establish the laws. The laws and the pursuit of equity, he continues, are just by convention, but what is just by nature is for the better man (੒ਕȝİȓȞȦȞ) to outdo the     advantage of the inferior, and not of the superior. Thrasymachus is explaining the origin of justice. Justice came about when the inferior, for their own good, mutually agreed to desist from pleonexia. We may now appreciate the novelty of the actual slogan in Book I, that justice is the advantage of the superior. Not only is it a complete reversal of his usual position, but it also removes the nomos/physis antithesis, at least to the extent that it is precisely the naturally superior individual who is actually deriving benefit from nomos. The law is working in favour of primal nature, rather than being opposed to it. The lack of a nomos/physis antithesis according to the slogan would explain why no such antithesis appears in Book I, but does appear in Book II in the absence of the slogan, and in the context of Thrasymachus' usual position. Who is Thrasymachus' superior individual? Who is the naturally unjust individual who is supposed to be hampered by the laws of the inferiors seeking equity? Thrasymachus in his second speech in Book I regards the most perfect practitioners of injustice to be tyrants. These would seem to be extreme and successful examples of the more usual naturally superior individual hemmed in by obstructive law-abiding democrats and oligarchs,76 namely the aristocrat.77  6. RETURNING TO BOOK I To conclude this paper, we shall attempt to appreciate the novelty of Thrasymachus' slogan in Book I, and the ingenuity of the arguments he uses to support it. Once we understand Thrasymachus' slogan (Book I) together with his usual position (Book II), we may finally be able to decide whether the rest of the dialogue is indeed - formally at least - a reaction to a Thrasymachaean position, and what this position might be. The behaviour of Socrates should be of some concern to us. Logic seems not to be uppermost in the minds of the participants in this debate, and it is unlikely that we will understand it through logical analysis of the arguments alone.  6. 1. Eristics The debate between Thrasymachus and Socrates is eristic, a battle of words in which the outcome is decided by the audience. Sophists taught eristics to those who wished to gain an edge in debates, for example in the context of the lawcourts, or in the public assembly. The techniques were aimed at tripping up the opponent and refuting him with all the means at one's disposal, on the understanding that the judges of the debate would not detect any trickery, or if they did, would accept it as par for the course. The more that sophists taught eristics, the more aware people were of the tricks. Thrasymachus expected  worse (੒ ȤİȓȡȦȞ), the superior man (੒ țȡİȓIJIJȦȞ) to outdo the inferior (੒ ਸ਼IJIJȦȞ). Callicles regards the superior man as the frustrated aristocrat (like himself), shackled by the democratic, conventional, laws of the Many; it is the law of nature that he should burst his bonds and rule as a tyrant. This "law of nature" (another way of overcoming the nomos/physis antithesis) is exemplified by Xerxes and his father (Gorgias 483a8-484c3). This is the first extant appearance of the expression "law of nature": Plato may have invented it himself, but he may alternatively have taken it along with the general argument presented by Callicles from a sophistic source lost to us. 76 Not only democrats but also oligarchs sought equity, according to Isocrates, Niocles 15: Įੂ ȝ੻Ȟ IJȠȓȞȣȞੑȜȚȖĮȡȤȓĮȚțĮ੿įȘȝȠțȡĮIJȓĮȚIJ੹ȢੁıȩIJȘIJĮȢIJȠ૙ȢȝİIJȑȤȠȣıȚIJ૵ȞʌȠȜȚIJİȚ૵ȞȗȘIJȠ૨ıȚțĮ੿IJȠ૨IJૅ İ੝įȠțȚȝİ૙ ʌĮȡૅ Į੝IJĮ૙Ȣ ਲ਼Ȟ ȝȘį੻Ȟ ਪIJİȡȠȢ ਦIJȑȡȠȣ įȪȞȘIJĮȚ ʌȜȑȠȞ ਩ȤİȚȞ - "Oligarchies and democracies seek the equalities for those participating in the constitutions, and it is considered a good thing among them [the constitutions] if no one can outdo (pleon echein) another." 77 As already noted above, Callicles chose to exemplify his aristocratic superior individual with two Persian kings, tyrants in all but name (Gorgias 483d6-7). He sees the rise of the tyrant to power as the triumph of natural justice over conventional justice; Thrasymachus in his usual account sees this rise as the triumph of natural injustice over natural justice.     his slogan and consequent eristic display to delight the crowd and earn him some money, demanded by him up front.78 6. 2. The intent of the slogan "Justice is nothing other than the advantage of the superior" (338c1-3). We have already seen that Clitopho had assumed that the superior was a superior man, despite Thrasymachus' first argument in support of this slogan (§4.5), and in Book II we realize that Glauco is also well aware of Thrasymachus' usual understanding of "the superior" in such arguments: namely, the unjust man, possibly an aristocrat, or preferably, tyrant, unshackled by the laws to which the inferior democrats or oligarchs have committed themselves (§5.2). According to Thrasymachus' usual position, justice is the advantage of the inferior (the weak who created law to prevent pleonexia). The slogan is apparently declaring the opposite.79 Since the usual position is not only that of Thrasymachus, but also that of tens of thousand of others, according to Glauco, it would seem that Plato's Thrasymachus is justified in his confidence that the slogan will be understood as expressing the opposite of a widely held view. His slogan, then, has novelty - even shock - value. 6. 3. Why anti-logical arguments are required to support the slogan Thrasymachus' account (as delivered by Glauco in Bk. II) of the origin of justice quite clearly places the initiative for the creation of law on the inferior. Justice is abiding by the law and desisting from pleonexia, and there is no doubt that this is to the advantage of the inferior who could not avoid suffering injustice otherwise. Thrasymachus (in Bk. I) sets himself the task of claiming the opposite; but what exactly? Is he claiming simply that, given the laws and system of justice which the inferior have developed, the unjust man can take advantage of justice for his own unjust ends? This would be a truism, and could even fit in with his usual account. But "justice is nothing but the advantage of the superior", as he introduces his slogan, suggests a stronger claim, in which justice is never at all the advantage of the inferior. What Thrasymachus is proud to present is the claim that justice has come about through the agency of the perfectly unjust man for his own unjust ends. He could make a realistic case for a limited instance of this claim by pointing to the tyrant, his ideal unjust man. Justice, he could argue, is abiding by the laws. There are tyrants who make laws which allow them to gain at the expense of their subjects. Such a tyrant is unjust, and the unjust man is superior to those who obey laws. Therefore justice is the advantage of the superior. This, however, is not enough for Thrasymachus. He claims that always, everywhere (339a23, cf. §4.3), justice is the advantage of the superior. That is, all law has been made by the unjust man for his own gain at the expense of those who obey the law; and the just, in obeying the law, are playing into his hands - not just in a tyranny, but in oligarchies and democracies as well.80 This is a strong claim, and one which would make an audience sit up and take note. They would want to hear how Thrasymachus defends such a perverse and counterintuitive claim. Thrasymachus' first set speech is designed to satisfy that expectation. The speech overcomes the facts of the matter with an impressive display of sophistry.  78 For another view of eristic in this debate, and in Plato generally, see the outstanding article by Klosko (1984), esp. 16ff. 79 "Justice is the advantage of the superior" (...IJઁ IJȠ૨ țȡİȓIJIJȠȞȠȢ ıȪȝijİȡȠȞ). Thrasymachus had forbidden Socrates earlier to define justice as merely "advantage" (336d2, see §4.1), and it is his addition ("of the superior") which he must think makes his own reply "very fine" (ਕʌȩțȡȚıȚȞ ʌĮȖțȐȜȘȞ 338a7); Socrates and Thrasymachus discuss the fact of the addition at 339a5-b5. 80 Cf. Isocrates, Niocles 15, quoted in n. 76, p. 32 above.     The main problem which Thrasymachus must overcome in his speech is that in fact not all superior unjust people are in a position to pass laws to their own unjust advantage. His solution is to pass off as the superior for most of the argument the general concept of the regime which passes laws in every city. The superior person (kreitton) appears only in the concluding slogan as a late substitution for the ruling power (kratoun), but the transition is concealed by the similar sense and sound of the words, and by the use of the genitive, a case in which there is no difference in form between the masculine and the neuter. The ruling power (kratoun) is a transitional bridge between superior (kreitton) and regime (arche), and Thrasymachus has had to begin his presentation with some specious arguments demonstrating that the regime in every city does indeed rule over (krat) something in the city. Another problem to be addressed is that regimes in fact do not always pass laws to their own advantage. Thrasymachus has cleverly demonstrated that they do by playing on an ambiguity in adjectives (e.g., "democratic" meaning "pertaining to a democracy", which is always true of a law passed by a democracy; and "of advantage to a democracy", which is not always true). Thrasymachus inclines his audience to assume that the adjectives he uses mean "of advantage to..." by prefacing the descriptions of laws passed by various regimes with the bald statement that all regimes pass laws to their own advantage.81 When Thrasymachus sees that Socrates is about to refute his slogan, he changes tack and produces another speech designed, as was the first, to prove that justice is nothing but the advantage of the superior man. This time, however, he abandons the regime in every city as his path to a universal truth, and chooses instead to generalize using every unjust man in every transaction with a just man. Then, having established that in every transaction the unjust man outdoes the just man, Thrasymachus leaps to the best example of the unjust man, which just so happens to be the tyrant who not only outdoes everyone in his transactions with them, but is even admired by everyone for succeeding where they do not dare (since they are weak and for that reason just). Thus, justice yet again is seen to be the advantage of the superior. In the jump to the tyrant, who appears merely to be the best example of a general rule, it might seem that Thrasymachus has somehow forgotten that many criminals are actually caught and punished, that indeed some tyrants are removed from power, and that not all tyrants are as unjust as Thrasymachus would like. Thrasymachus, however, seems to be talking about unjust people in the strict sense - successful criminals throughout the time that they successfully exploit naive just people and escape being caught and punished for their crimes.82 This argument differs significantly from the first in that justice is only exploited, but not created, by the superior. Justice is indeed always the advantage of the superior, but only because the unjust (in the strict sense) always succeeds in outdoing the just in transactions and flouting the laws.83 The first, prepared, argument was stronger, in that the laws were actually made by the superior unjust individual for his own unjust ends, and the very obedience of the just inferiors led to the unjust superior individual outdoing them. The weaker claim of the second argument is compensated for by the apparently stronger content, including the notion that injustice itself is superior to justice, the reference to the supremely unjust tyrant and the spectacular  81 On Thrasymachus' first speech, see §3 and §4.3. 82 Sophistic claims serve their immediate argument but should not be pressed too hard. For example, we have already seen that the ruler in the strict sense is someone who acts only in accordance with the ruling craft in the strict sense. Whenever he makes a mistake in ruling, he is at that moment not a ruler. Thus a ruler in the strict sense never makes mistakes in the ruling craft. Pressing the parallel, it should be argued that an unjust man in the strict sense is someone who acts only in accordance with the craft of injustice, and if he makes a mistake (such as being caught and punished), he is not at that moment an unjust man. 83 This is to ignore all those transactions in which only just people are involved. In such instances, justice is surely the advantage of the inferior. Such an objection, however, is beside the point, since Thrasymachus is not arguing about facts. He has engineered the appearance of a general claim precisely by ignoring the wider context.     crimes he commits with impunity, and the generally stronger language which was unnecessary in the first speech. Thraysmachus, who intended to leave immediately after his second speech, may have hoped that the pyrotechnics would create the impression that he had proved here exactly what he had proved the first time ("as I was saying from the beginning" 344c6-7, §4.9). 6. 4. The Thrasymachaean challenge We return now to the passage considered at the end of §4.9: "To this, then, I in no way agree with Thrasymachus, that what is just is the advantage of the superior. But we shall examine this on another occasion. What seems to me greater by far is what Thrasymachus now says, asserting that the life of the unjust man is superior to that of the unjust man" (347d8-e4). It should be clear by now that Thrasymachus' slogan, intended merely as a shocking inversion of part of his usual position, can only be supported by sophistic arguments, is easily refuted sophistically, and were it not for the eristic debate, would not be considered a serious challenge at all. If Socrates returns to the theme of justice and its advantage to the superior man later in this dialogue, he does so implicitly. Although Thrasymachus makes many things superior in his second argument (cf. §4.9), he does not refer explicitly to the life of the unjust man as superior. This, however, may be inferred from his claim that the most perfect injustice (we may understand this to mean injustice in the strict sense) makes the unjust man most happy, and those suffering injustice most miserable (344a4-6). Thrasymachus frames the claim with depictions of pleonexia on a grand scale. In this argument, happiness is predicated upon continuous large scale profiteering, at the expense of others, with impunity. Working towards an apparent proof of his slogan, Thrasymachus introduced the tyrant as if he were merely the clearest example of the unjust man (and not the unjust man in the strict sense he actually is in this argument). Socrates appears willing to go along with Thrasymachus' sophistic intentions, extrapolating from the example of the tyrant that all unjust men live lives superior to those of all just men. Socrates does not call the life of the unjust man simply more profitable, but actually superior, and this may be justified if he is also supposed to be happier. Glauco emphasizes the element of profit. Socrates introduces the new claim during an interlude with Glauco (347a7-348b7). When Socrates asks him which life he thinks [is superior], Glauco states that he thinks that the life of the just man is "more profitable" (347e5-7). When Socrates reverts to questioning Thrasymachus, he begins by asking whether perfect injustice is more profitable than perfect justice (348b910). The bulk of the dialogue is formally a reply to the challenge set by Glauco and Adimantus at the beginning of Book II. The presentation of Thrasymachus' usual position by Glauco reveals that the slogan is an inversion of part of the usual position. Can the claim which Socrates has just introduced, derived from an argument supporting the slogan, be compatible with Thrasymachus' usual position? 6. 5. Socratic elenchus? As if it is not enough that we have on our hands an antagonist prepared to pervert logic and the Greek language simply in order to prove the opposite of his usual position, Socrates lets us down from the point of view of logical refutation. He appears to understand as soon as he has heard the slogan for the first time that Thrasymachus is playing with words, and he indulges in the same tactics himself. He engages Thrasymachus     not with careful analysis of the arguments, but with counter-arguments as outrageous as those of Thrasymachus, in keeping with an eristic debate (cf. §§4.2, 4.4, 4.7-8). And for the most part, Thrasymachus is obliged to accept this nonsense. His gallant attempt at extricating himself from the imminent refutation of his slogan by means of a second speech supposedly supporting the same slogan in the same way, after which he has every intention of escaping, indicates how seriously Thrasymachus takes Socrates' arguments; they are sophistic enough to cause Thrasymachus to lose the eristic debate. His answers come with increasing effort, until, eventually, sweating profusely as he does so, he blushes - something Socrates had never seen him do before (350c12-d3). This is clearly a significant event, and we may suspect that this comes instead of an aporia. Although there has been no serious philosophical debate in the usual sense of the term, something serious has happened; something perhaps even more serious than many an aporia in other dialogues.84 In order to discover the significance of the eristic debate, the display of such a wide range of emotions, and many other features besides, the dialogue needs to be analysed not as a philosophical treatise comprising arguments of varying degrees of consistency and clarity, but as a conversation between characters with motives and feelings. Such an analysis does not thereby ignore the philosophical content of the dialogue, but actually takes a step towards its discovery as an organic, working, whole.  7. BIBLIOGRAPHY Annas, J, An Introduction to Plato's Republic, Oxford/New York, 1981. Anscombe, GEM, 'Two Kinds of Error in Action', Journal of Philosophy vol. 60, 1963, pp. 393-401. Arieti, JA, Interpreting Plato: The Dialogues as Drama, Lanham, MD, 1991. Barker, E, The Political Thought of Plato and Aristotle, New York, 1959. Blondell, R, 'Letting Plato Speak for Himself: Character and Method in the Republic' in GA Press (ed.), Who Speaks for Plato? Studies in Platonic Anonymity, Lanham MD, 2000, pp. 127-146. Burrell, PS, 'The Plot of Plato's Republic (I)', Mind vol. 25, no. 97, 1916, pp. 56-82. Chappell, TDJ, 'The Virtues of Thrasymachus', Phronesis vol. 38, 1993, pp. 1-17. Crombie, IM, An Examination of Plato's Doctrines, London, 1962. Cross, RC, & AD Woozley, Plato's Republic. A Philosophical Commentary, London, 1964. Dümmler, F, 'Zur Komposition des platonischen Staates mit einem Excurs über die Entwicklung der platonischen Psychologie' in Kleine Schriften I, Leipzig, 1901, pp. 228-270.. Friedländer, P, Plato 2: the Dialogues: First Period, New York, 1962. Glucker, J, 'Word Power', Grazer Beiträge vol. 14, 1987, pp. 139-150. BBBBBBBB μȆȠȚİȢĮʌȠȥİȚȢİțʌȡȠıȦʌȠȣȞȠīȜĮȣțȦȞțĮȚȠǹįİȚȝĮȞIJȠȢ¶ in K Boudouris (ed.), ȆİȡȚǻȚțĮȚȠıȣȞȘȢAthens, 1989, pp. 188-192. Guthrie, WKC, A History of Greek Philosophy III: The Fifth Century Enlightenment, Cambridge, 1969. Harrison, EL, 'Plato's Manipulation of Thrasymachus', Phoenix vol. 21, 1967, pp. 27-39. Henderickx, AR, 'Eerste boek van Platoons Staat of dialog Thrasymachos', Rev. Belge Philol.  84 The blush is significant, but beyond the scope of this paper.     vol. 24, 1945, pp. 5-46. Henderson, TY, 'IV. In Defense of Thrasymachus', American Philosophical Quarterly vol. 7.3, 1970, pp. 218-228. Hermann, KF, Geschichte und System der Platonischen Philosophie, Heidelberg, 1839. Hourani, GF, 'Thrasymachus' Definition of Justice in Plato's Republic', Phronesis vol. 7, 1962, pp. 110-120. Inwood, B, 'Stokes on Adeimantus in the Republic' in S Panagiotou (ed.), Justice, Law and Method in Plato and Aristotle, Edmonton, 1987, pp. 97-103. Irwin, TH, Plato's Moral Theory: The Early and Middle Dialogues, Oxford, 1977. ________, Plato's Ethics, Oxford, 1995. Kahn, CH, 'Proleptic Composition in the Republic, or Why Book I was never a Separate Dialogue', Classical Quarterly vol. 43, 1993, pp. 131-142. Kerferd, GB, 'The Doctrine of Thrasymachus in Plato's "Republic"', Durham University Journal vol. 9, 1947, pp. 19-27. Kerferd, GB, 'Thrasymachus and Justice. A Reply', Phronesis vol. 9, 1964, pp. 12-16. Klosko, G, 'Thrasymachos Eristikos: The Agon Logon in Republic I', Polity vol. 17, 1984, pp. 5-29. Liebersohn, YZ, 'Rhetoric: Art and Pseudo-Art in Plato's Gorgias', Arethusa vol. 38, 2005, pp. 303-329. Ludlam, I, Hippias Major: An Interpretation, Stuttgart, 1991. Maguire, JP, 'Thrasymachus or Plato?', Phronesis vol. 16, 1971, pp. 142-163. Nettleship, RL, & GRB Charnwood, Lectures on the Republic of Plato, London/New York, 1901. Nicholson, PP, 'Unravelling Thrasymachus' Arguments in the Republic', Phronesis vol. 19, 1974, pp. 210-232. Reeve, CDC, 'Socrates meets Thrasymachus', AGPh vol. 67, 1985, pp. 246-265. Scaltsas, T, 'Fairness in Socratic Justice Republic I', Aristotelian Society Proceedings vol. 93, 1993, pp. 247-262. Smith, PC, 'Not Doctrine but "Placing in Question": The "Thrasymachus" (Rep. I) as an Erôtêsis of Commercialization' in GA Press (ed.), Who Speaks for Plato? Studies in Platonic Anonymity, Lanham, MD, 2000, pp. 113-125. Sparshott, FE, 'Socratesand Thrasymachus', The Monist vol. 50, 1966, pp. 421-459.     
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
P a r t V I GENDER , B ODY IMAGE, AND "HEALTHY " EATING OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 551 10/24/2017 9:42:20 PM OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 552 10/24/2017 9:42:20 PM chapter 24 Eat Y 'Self Fit ter Orthorexia, Health, and Gender Christina Van Dyke Diet is an ambiguous and powerful tool, too unclear and emotionally charged for comfort, too powerful to be ignored. - Steven Bratman, Health Food Junkies1 We tend to think of eating disorders in very personal terms. They affect individuals we love: family members, friends, and us. We warn our teens and other atrisk groups about the dangers of anorexia and bulimia; we offer programs aimed at educating people about what "healthy eating" would look like for them and how they can achieve and maintain a "healthy" weight. Treatment programs for eating disorders focus on individual and smallgroup therapy. Eating disorders, after all, are very personal. They affect us on a visceral, embodied level- the level at which we often feel most vulnerable and most alone. An exclusive focus on eating disorders at this level, however, makes us like the person in the famous story who keeps pulling people from a stream without wondering what upstream is making them all fall in. In this essay, I investigate what is happening upstream in the case of orthorexia, a condition in which the subject becomes obsessed with identifying and maintaining the ideal diet, rigidly avoiding foods perceived as unhealthy or harmful.2 In so doing, I join the feminist scholars who have contributed in the past decades to our understanding of the sociocultural and historical contexts in 1 Steven Bratman, with David Knight, Health Food Junkies: Orthorexia Nervosa: Overcoming the Obsession with Healthful Eating (New York: Broadway Books, 2000). 2 For a concise summary and early discussion of this condition, see Jennifer Mathieu, "What Is Orthorexia?" Journal of the American Dietetic Association 105, no. 10 (October 2005): 1510– 1512. OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 553 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM 554 Christina Van Dyke which eating disorders such as anorexia and bulimia flourish.3 As these scholars have made clear, in order to uproot eating disorders, we need first to identify and address the ideologies that ground them. Orthorexia in particular deserves philosophical attention right now for at least two reasons. First, evidence suggests that the current prevalence rate of orthorexia in the general population is higher than those of anorexia and bulimia combined.4 Second, orthorexia appears to be an "equal opportunity" eating disorder, affecting men and women at roughly equal rates and across a wide variety of ages (unlike anorexia and bulimia, which remain concentrated in adolescent female populations).5 To address orthorexia on a practical level "downstream," we need an "upstream" account that explains these facts. This essay offers just such an account. In the first section, I explain in more detail what orthorexia is and why its status as a diagnosable eating disorder has remained controversial. In the second section, I examine widespread cultural factors that provide particularly fertile ground for the development of orthorexia (such as dramatic increases in the variety of available foods, growing awareness of the health impact of environmental contamination, and the widespread use of marketing strategies that generate anxiety about food "toxins" and promote "superfoods"). In the third section I draw out social and historical connections between religion and orthorexia (which literally means "righteous eating"), also addressing how ambiguities in the concept of "health" make it particularly prone to take on quasireligious significance. In the fourth section, I discuss how gendered ideals of eating and health contribute to the development of orthorexia in different populations while simultaneously masking important commonalities. I conclude in the final section by arguing that what makes this sort of disordered eating destructive to both men and women is ultimately a common urge to transcend rather than to embrace the realities of embodiment. In sum, I believe that orthorexia is best understood as a manifestation of ageold anxieties about human finitude and mortality- anxieties which current dominant sociocultural forces prime us to experience and express in unhealthy attitudes toward healthy eating. 3 Kim Chernin's The Obsession: Reflections on the Tyranny of Slenderness (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1981) and Susie Orbach's Fat is a Feminist Issue (New York: Random House, 1978 [vol. 1]; 1982 [vol. 2]) are two of the most influential early treatments of this topic. Susan Bordo's Unbearable Weight: Feminism, Western Culture, and the Body (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993) also contains several excellent papers on the cultural grounds for anorexia and bulimia. See, in particular, "Whose Body Is This? Feminism, Medicine, and the Conceptualization of Eating Disorders" (45– 70), "Hunger as Ideology" (99– 138), "Anorexia Nervosa: Psychopathology as the Crystallization of Culture" (139– 164), and "The Body and the Reproduction of Femininity" (165– 184). 4 A 2013 study estimates orthorexia's prevalence rate at 6.9% and rising. See Márta Varga, S. DukaySzabó , and F. Túry, "Evidence and Gaps in the Literature on Orthorexia Nervosa," Eating and Weight Disorders- Studies on Anorexia, Bulimia and Obesity 18, no. 2 (June 2013): 103– 111. 5 As we will see in the first section, although research on orthorexia that yields statistically significant results is still in its infancy, what research there is indicates that orthorexia impacts men and women at generally equal rates, with several studies indicating that men are actually more likely than women to suffer from the condition. See Varga et al., "Evidence and Gaps." OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 554 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM Eat Y'Self Fitter 555 Signs and Symptoms: What Is Wrong with Healthy Eating? Like a soldier you righteously follow the orders of your commander (your mental paradigm), not being influenced by the people around you and sacrificing hundreds of possibilities for your cause. You bail out of all the extremities of pleasure, rebellion, and experimentation when they are offered to you. It's this 100% management, this nutritionally perfect goal, which can ultimately pull down the experience of the rest of your life. - Edward Yuen, recovering orthorexic6 My interest in orthorexia is not clinical. I happily leave to others discussions about the best way to categorize, quantify, and diagnose its precise nature. Rather, my interest lies in understanding orthorexia as one end of a continuum that includes everyone who worries about how healthy their diet really is, or who has cut out gluten (or sugar or dairy or fat . . .) to avoid toxins, or who "juices" or "cleanses" to flush out their system, or who has a family member or close friend that does any of these things- that is, virtually everyone who will be reading this. We live in a society obsessed with "healthy eating": small wonder that some people embody that obsession more literally than others. It is important for us to examine more closely what that obsession looks like, then, and in what specific ways it proves harmful. The term "orthorexia nervosa" was coined by Steven Bratman, a holistic medical practitioner, in 1997 for an article for Yoga Journal to describe a condition he was seeing frequently in the alternative community he treated (and had suffered from himself).7 Modeled on the term "anorexia nervosa," from the Greek for "no appetite/ eating obsession," orthorexia nervosa literally means "correct appetite/ eating obsession." Bratman writes: "To be perfectly honest, I intended the term somewhat tongue in cheek, as a kind of sassy way to surprise clients who were proud of their obsession and make them think twice about it. I assumed that the condition was fairly rare and that the only reason I saw it so often was that I practiced alternative medicine. . . . But I was not quite right."8 Instead, the article hit a cultural nerve. Today, most eating disorder centers offer programs specifically aimed at overcoming orthorexia, psychologists and the medical community take it seriously, and there is increasing public recognition that the zeal for healthy eating can go too far.9 AQ: In note 6, please add the place of publication and publisher's name for the ref Edward L. Yuen 2015. 6 Edward L. Yuen, Beating Orthorexia and the Memoirs of a Health Freak (Place: Publisher, 2015), 81– 82; http:// beatingorthorexia.co.uk. 7 "Health Food Junkie," Yoga Journal (September/ October 1997): 42– 50; http:// www.orthorexia.com/ originalorthorexiaessay. 8 Bratman, Health Food Junkies, 21. 9 Orthorexia has its own page on the National Eating Disorders website now, for instance (see https:// www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/ orthorexianervosa). Sometimes there is a distinction made between "orthorexia," identified as obsession with eating only pure, natural, or healthy foods to the detriment of OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 555 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM 556 Christina Van Dyke As the name indicates, orthorexia is an obsession with eating "correctly." As with anorexia, the subject becomes fixated on food and their diet; unlike anorexia, orthorexia is concerned primarily with the quality rather than quantity of the food they eat. The anorexic tends to focus on an ideal weight or body size; the orthorexic tends to focus on identifying and maintaining an ideal diet. This goal is strongly associated with terms like "transcendence" and "purity." As I discuss in the third section, this can take on an almost religious feel for the orthorexic, whose identity becomes increasingly centered on eliminating any potentially dangerous ingredient from their diet (additives, preservatives, genetically modified products, gluten, dairy, grains, meat- anything perceived as a "toxin") in order to attain a state of perfect health through their diet. As the condition intensifies, orthorexics resort to taking preprepared food with them wherever they go and avoiding social situations that involve eating or drinking other people's food, worried about what might be ingested in food they did not prepare. Stricter diets, fasting, and "cleanses" are often used to rid the body of the impurities of any unhealthy food that is consumed. In addition to obsession with a pure, healthy diet and corresponding behavioral restrictions, orthorexia also tends to involve a sense of moral superiority that subjects gain from both thinking about and adhering to their idealized diet. As Bratman puts it: "Unlike other eating disorders, orthorexia disguises itself as a virtue. Anorexics may know that they are hurting themselves, but orthorexics feel nothing but pride at taking case of their health in the best possible way."10 Anorexia or bulimia are usually a source of deep shame and secrecy for its subjects, but the orthorexic subject is vocal about what they are or are not eating, and why- namely, health. They see their chosen diet as the healthy ideal and are concerned to share their beliefs with others. A recent study by Márta Varga et al. summarizes the main elements of orthorexia nervosa as follows: The preoccupation with quality of food and eating healthy comprise the principal elements of this disorder. The pathological obsession with biologically pure food and shops which sell it leads to a special lifestyle. Stringent dietary restrictions and eating plans, combined with a personality and attitude of superiority and obsessivephobic behavioral characteristics define the core of ON [orthorexia nervosa]. Transgressing the dietary rules leads to intense anxiety, feelings of guilt and shame and is followed by even more stringent dietary restrictions.11 This spiral of "dietary restriction, failure, guilt and depression, increased dietary restriction, failure, guilt and depression, even more dietary restriction" is characteristic AQ: Should "case" be changed to "care"? one's mental and emotional health, and "orthorexia nervosa," which includes extreme dietary restriction that can lead to malnutrition, harmfully low body weight, and death. Because these conditions are often run together, and because my interest lies primarily in the cultural underpinnings of both conditions, I will be using the more general term in this essay. 10 Bratman, Health Food Junkies, 2. 11 Márta Varga, B. K. Thege, S. DukaySzabó, F. Túry, and E. F. van Furth, "When Eating Healthy Is Not Healthy: Orthorexia Nervosa and Its Measurement with the ORTO15 in Hungary," BMC Psychiatry 14, no. 1 (2014): 59. OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 556 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM Eat Y'Self Fitter 557 of other eating disorders as well. Subjects experience guilt and depression when they fail to adhere to their chosen diet and frequently impose further restrictions as selfpunishment . In addition to putting the subject at risk for malnutrition, orthorexia also involves a distortion of priorities, where the subject gradually places "eating healthy" above other previously dominant values, thinking constantly about food: what they will eat, when they will eat it, what food is "safe," and so on. Eventually, the quality of what they consume and the purity of their diet become more important to the orthorexic than "personal values, interpersonal relations, career plans, and social relationships," as food becomes the sole focus of their life.12 Who is at risk for this disorder? For once, it is not prepubescent or adolescent girls. Orthorexia as a lifedisrupting disorder is particularly likely to occur in communities that are engaged in conversations about health: dieticians, athletes, performance artists, college and postcollege educated adults, and the aging.13 In fact, older men appear particularly likely to develop orthorexia, as they face increasing health concerns and their own mortality. Yet, in a sense, everyone who participates in a culture that holds "health" up as the dominant social value- that is, everyone who lives in twentyfirstcentury Western culture- is prone to obsess about healthy eating and the ideal diet. In the remainder of this essay, I address how orthorexia should be seen as a deeply understandable reaction to current social anxieties. The prevalence of general social concern with diet and health makes orthorexia a more controversial condition than, say, anorexia or bulimia.14 (Orthorexia is currently classified by the American Psychiatric Association in the DSM under the catchall "Avoidant/ Restrictive Food Intake Disorder" label in the DSM.15) Some people object to the idea that a focus on health should be seen as unhealthy, or that it is inappropriate to take healthy food as one's highest value. Some people see orthorexia as expressing a legitimate desire to live longer, or as a way of caring for bodies that just goes a bit too far, or even as providing people with meaning in their lives. For anyone who has studied the disorder, it is hard to dismiss its effects as not meriting serious attention. Yet a look at Bratman's original proposed diagnostic tool, designed to identify people at risk for orthorexia, gives insight into why there continues to be 12 Anna BrytekMatera, "Orthorexia Nervosa- An Eating Disorder, ObsessiveCompulsive Disorder or Disturbed Eating Habit?" Archives of Psychiatry and Psychotherapy 1 (2012): 55– 60. This article also contains a breakdown of the gender difference discovered between orthorexic men and women in various studies in different countries; in general, men were found to be more at risk for orthorexia than women. 13 See, e.g., C. SeguraGarcia, M. Papaianni, F. Caglioti, et al., "Orthorexia Nervosa: A Frequent Eating Disordered Behavior in Athletes," Eating and Weight Disorders 17, no, 4 (2012): 226– 233. For an overview of the different populations affected, see also Varga, "Evidence and Gaps." 14 See, for instance, Walter VanderEycken, "Media Hype, Diagnostic Fad or Genuine Disorder? Professionals' Opinions about Night Eating Syndrome, Orthorexia, Muscle Dysmorphia, and Emetophobia," Eating Disorders: The Journal of Treatment and Prevention 19, no. 2 (2011): 145– 155. 15 For a discussion of how best to classify orthorexia, which also contains helpful citations to other studies, see BryterMatara, "Orthorexia Nervosa- An Eating Disorder, ObsessiveCompulsive Disorder or Disturbed Eating Habit?" OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 557 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM 558 Christina Van Dyke resistance to acknowledging it as a distinct disease. The questionnaire poses the following set of questions, asking the reader to score positive responses with a point; it suggests that a score of four or more points indicates that the reader should reevaluate their relationship with food and their diet: • Do you spend more than three hours each day thinking about food? (For four hours, give yourself two points.) The time measurement includes cooking, shopping, reading about your diet, discussing (or evangelizing) it with friends, and joining Internet chat groups on the subject. • Do you plan tomorrow's food today? • Do you care more about the virtue of what you eat than the pleasure you receive from eating it? • Have you found that as the quality of your diet has increased, the quality of your life has correspondingly diminished? • Do you keep getting stricter with yourself? • Do you sacrifice experiences you once enjoyed to eat the food you believe is right? • Do you feel an increased sense of selfesteem when you are eating healthy food? Do you look down on others who don't? • Do you feel guilt or selfloathing when you stray from your diet? • Does your diet socially isolate you? • When eating the way you are supposed to, do you feel a peaceful sense of total control?16 Bratman himself is clear that this is not meant for clinical use but for personal reflection.17 Even so, several things about these questions are worth noting. First, we live in a culture where it would be completely normal to answer "yes" to several of the questions. I will come back to this when I talk about the cultural conditions that ground the prevalence of orthorexia in the second section, but feeling better about oneself for eating "healthy" food and experiencing guilt for eating the "wrong" things is almost endemic in contemporary Western culture. Second, caretakers and people who bear primary responsibility for feeding their families (especially large families) will score disproportionately highly on this test. They will almost always spend more than three hours each day thinking about and preparing food, and they will also plan meals at least a day in advance. Since women make up a disproportionate number of the people who bear primary responsibility for feeding their families, this test would consistently predict that women are at greater risk for orthorexia than men. 16 Bratman, Health Food Junkies, 47– 52. 17 Work is ongoing to develop a reliable diagnostic tool for clinical use. See, e.g., L. M. Donini, D. Marsili, M. P. Graziani, et al., "Orthorexia Nervosa: Validation of a Diagnosis Questionnaire," Eating and Weight Disorders- Studies on Anorexia, Bulimia, and Obesity 10 (2005): e28– e32 (doi:10.1007/ BF03327537) and Varga et al., "When Eating Healthy Is Not Healthy." OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 558 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM Eat Y'Self Fitter 559 Third, this questionnaire does not distinguish between people who restrict their diet for moral reasons (such as the commitment to not harm animals, to eat local, or to minimize their environmental impact) and people who restrict what they eat out of fear of toxins or in hopes of attaining the perfect diet. As with anorexia and bulimia, there is a continuum from mild to severe forms of the disorder; orthorexia can exist in tandem both with other disorders- and with moral motivations to avoid certain foods and food groups. The overlap between moral issues and control issues is a particularly murky area, both conceptually and experientially. It is not uncommon, for instance, for orthorexics to be vegan. Veganism is a lifestyle that is frequently identified as "pure" and "clean" and promoted as maximally healthy. The link between veganism and orthorexia has been highlighted in media reactions to the popular Instagram and blog queen Jordan Younger, "the Blonde Vegan," announcing in 2014 that she had orthorexia and was rebranding herself "the Balanced Blonde."18 Headlines about this revelation frequently blamed the disorder on Younger's veganism, with taglines such as, "How Going Vegan Triggered this Instagram Star's Orthorexia."19 This, not surprisingly, sparked impassioned responses from within the vegan community, which was keen to defend itself against such claims and tends to be leery of discussions of orthorexia in general.20 Younger herself was careful to attribute her orthorexia not to her veganism, but to her "all or nothing" obsessivecompulsive personality. She describes herself as using veganism as an excuse to avoid certain foods and to restrict food intake. This fits with recognition in the medical community that at times "vegetarian diets may be selected to camouflage an existing eating disorder."21 It is vital to stress here that veganism itself is not orthorexia, nor does not it cause orthorexia. The direction the causal link appears most often to go is from obsessive personality (and a tendency toward orthorexia) toward veganism as a socially acceptable way of restricting food intake and avoiding 18 For her discussion of her condition and recovery, see theblondevegan.com, especially http:// www. theblondevegan.com/ 2014/ 07/ 13/ recoveryupdateorthorexiaisnofun/ . 19 http:// www.womenshealthmag.com/ life/ jordanyoungertheblondevegan, June 30, 2014. 20 Younger received death threats from rabid vegans, some of who accused her of never really having been a vegan in the first place, of pretending she has an eating disorder to widen her fan base, and even of not really being blonde(!). This backlash itself created intense conversation within the vegan community. Vegan Street Blog's Marla Rose, for instance, who was vocal in her negative assessment of Younger's announcement (calling it "a crock" and dismissing her announcement as an attempt to generate media attention), then turned around to soundly denounce current trends within veganism that play on obsessive tendencies. In "The Orthorexia Dilemma: Is Veganism an Eating Disorder," she writes: "This trend within veganism to employ tactics that manipulate anxieties around fat, nuts, fruits, grains and who knows what else can aggravate someone who is already on overload and we, as a movement that is rooted in nonviolence, justice and kindness, should play no part in this." http:// veganfeministagitator. blogspot.com/ 2014/ 07/ theorthorexiadilemmaisveganism.html. 21 W. J. Craig, A. R. Mangels, American Dietetic Association, "Position of the American Dietetic Association: Vegetarian Diets," J Am Diet Assoc 109, no. 7 (2000): 1266– 1282. See also A. M. BardoneCone et al., "The InterRelationships between Vegetarianism and Eating Disorders among Females," Journal of the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics 112, no. 8 (August 2012): 1247– 1252. OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 559 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM 560 Christina Van Dyke foods the orthorexic perceives as unhealthy. Developing an obsession with the quality and purity of one's diet is not the same as avoiding certain foods or even eliminating entire food groups from one's diet for moral reasons, such as environmental sustainability or a commitment to nonharm. Yet, in the public eye, orthorexia and veganism often go hand in hand, and this can make discussions of the disorder both socially and politically loaded. Social Norms and Cultural Disorders Whether we look at hysteria, agoraphobia, or anorexia, we find the body of the sufferer deeply inscribed with an ideological construction . . .22 emblematic of the period in question. - Susan Bordo, Unbearable Weight23 Our attitudes toward healthy eating and dietary choices are increasingly important components of how we conceive of (and judge) both ourselves and others. Orthorexia thus represents an extreme manifestation of sociocultural norms that we are all being pushed toward. In this section, I take a closer look at some of those norms- particularly as they relate to a popular twofold marketing strategy of creating anxiety about common foods and promoting "superfoods" as a healthy solution. To appreciate the cultural ground in which orthorexia takes root today, however, I want first to look briefly at how dominant social norms have related to the prevalence of certain psychological disorders in the past. In 1994, Susan Bordo situated anorexia in its cultural framework, arguing that hysteria, agoraphobia, and anorexia nervosa can each be seen as taking the dominant social norms for women at a particular time to their logical extreme.24 As she pointed out, hysteria became a prevalent disorder for a certain class of women in the Victorian period (midto late 1800s), just when social norms for women involved being delicate, emotional, focused on the minutiae of daily domestic life, and above base desires of the flesh. With their fainting and vapors, their nervous instability, their obsessive concern for minor details, and their frigidity, hysterics embodied these norms to an extreme. By the 1950s, hysteria was virtually unheard of in the United States, but agoraphobia (fear of public places, most commonly manifested in refusal to leave the home) had become surprisingly prevalent, just as postWWII culture emphasized the role of women as devoted wives and mothers who should be content to stay in their domestic realms 22 The original quote has "of femininity" here. I have removed it, however, since Bordo's point is more broadly applicable and since orthorexia is a disorder that inscribes its ideology of health on the bodies of both men and women 23 Bordo, Unbearable Weight, 168. 24 Bordo, "The Body and the Reproduction of Femininity," in Unbearable Weight, 165– 184. OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 560 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM Eat Y'Self Fitter 561 rather than have careers. In the 1980s, agoraphobia had all but disappeared, but incidence rates of anorexia in young women had begun to skyrocket- at precisely the same time that dominant social norms for women had begun to include being disciplined and in tight control (and more "masculinelooking" as they made strides into the corporate world). In each case, cultural conditions appear to have shaped the expression of group social anxiety and impacted the development of particular psychological disorders in susceptible individuals. This framework helps explain the current prevalence of orthorexia. Eating is one of the central micropractices that human beings engage in, and the buzzword for the new millennium is "healthy." Programs like Michelle Obama's Healthy HungerFree Kids Act have put the importance of good diets and health squarely in the public eye, while media coverage of the US's obesity epidemic has increased awareness of the harm a poor diet can cause. I am in no way attempting to downplay the importance of a good diet or of paying attention to what one eats. As other articles in this volume discuss, we live in a world of "fake" food both devoid of nutritional content and packed with ingredients whose longrange effects we do not yet know, and we have every reason to be concerned about that. At the same time, playing on our rational worries about the environment, cancercausing agents, and the monolithic Food Industry has become its own industry. We live in a constant state of anxiety over what we are putting in our bodies, and the messages we are getting from nutritional science, wellness, and preventative medicine both heighten that anxiety and leave us bewildered with their conflicting claims. Telling people what to eat and what not to eat has become a billiondollar industry, and everyone is pushing their own line and their own brand for their own profit, telling us not to trust what everyone else is saying and to listen to them instead. Naked Food Magazine, for instance, trumpets such warnings as: "The goal of food industry giants is to create and maintain the consumer completely confused. Words such as natural, nonGMO, transfat free, or kosher don't mean what we believe."25 Juicing advocates and "cleanse programs" also promote the fear of "chemicals" and their harmful effects, promising to eliminate dangerous toxins from your system if you follow their instructions.26 Indeed, at the time that I am writing this, the most recent entry on the enormously popular FoodBabe blog is promoting a "sugar detox" on the grounds that One of the most insidious ways the food industry poisons us is by dousing all sorts of foods with "added sugar" . . . Added sugar is one of the biggest perpetrators of our current health crisis, and can be implicated in many cases of obesity, type2 diabetes, heart disease, and even cancer- but its detrimental effects can take years to surface. 25 "The 13 Most Misleading Food Label Claims," Naked Food Magazine, http:// nakedfoodmagazine. com/ 13mostmisleadingfoodlabelclaims. 26 The current popularity of Bikram ("hot") yoga classes is closely related to this push toward "detoxifying" oneself and promotes regular cleanses and juicing. OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 561 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM 562 Christina Van Dyke It's the hidden link to so much pain and suffering. You are probably eating WAY more added sugar than you think you are.27 In other words, the food industry is actively poisoning us, you are probably suffering from the effects of this poison even if you currently feel fine, and you need to pay attention right now to her instructions in order to avoid dire consequences. The FoodBabe's main message is fear, and it is a common message in discussions about healthy eating. The flip side of generating anxiety about what is in regular food is promoting the positive qualities of miraculously healthy "superfoods" foods. In this popular marketing move, the incredible health effects of foods like blueberries, broccoli, kale, pomegranate, chia seeds are routinely "discovered" and then promoted as increasing energy levels, reducing cravings, burning fat, and healing diseases. According to The Master Plants Cookbook: The 33 Most Healing Superfoods for Optimum Health,28 for instance: Food isn't just food, it can be medicine! A whole food, plantbased diet can help prevent and even reverse chronic diseases such as cancer, diabetes, and heart disease, while also promoting a healthy weight. . . . The Master Plants Cookbook, complied by the founder and editor of Naked Food magazine, features the 33 essential superfoods that can help readers achieve that optimum health. Even better, it also offers more than 100 mouthwatering and easy recipes that are detoxifying, antiallergen, immuneboosting, and promote weight loss. From avocados and beets to sweet potatoes and spinach, The Master Plants Cookbook will inspire readers to try these healthpromoting, radiant super foods- and spark a new love for real, organic cuisine that pack a powerful healing punch. Dangling modifiers aside, this litany of healthpromoting effects is both stunning and telling. It explicitly draws on the lure of optimal health and hits virtually all the hot buttons for the healthconscious crowd: disease prevention and reversal, weight loss, increasing immune function, detoxification, and allergenavoidance. When used in tandem with the anxietygenerating strategy, these sorts of claims pack quite the punch. To see this twofold strategy in action, you need only look at the marketing blurbs for any book in the "health and wellness" section of your local bookstore, or to google "healthy eating." Take a recent publication, modestly titled The Healthiest Diet on the Planet.29 Its selfdescription is a paradigm of the twofold strategy I have just discussed: High in calories and cholesterol, animal fats and proteins too often leave you hungry and lead to overeating and weight gain. They are often the root causes of a host 27 http:// foodbabe.com, January 8, 2017 (bold in original). 28 Margarita Restrepo and Michele LaStella, The Master Plants Cookbook: The 33 Most Healing Superfoods for Optimum Health (Philadelphia, PA: Running Press Publishers, 2016). 29 John McDougall, MD, recipes by Mary McDougall, The Healthiest Diet on the Planet: Why the Foods You Love- Pizza, Pancakes, Potatoes, Pasta, and More- Are the Solution to Preventing Disease and Looking and Feeling Your Best (New York: Harper One, 2016). OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 562 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM Eat Y'Self Fitter 563 of avoidable health problems- from indigestion, ulcers, and constipation to obesity, diabetes, heart disease, and cancer. . . . The Healthiest Diet on the Planet helps us reclaim our health by enjoying nutritious starches, vegetables, and fruits. McDougall takes on the propaganda machines pushing dangerous, highfat fad diets and cuts through the smoke and mirrors of the diet industry. He offers a clear, proven guide to what we should and shouldn't eat to prevent disease, slow the aging process, improve our physical fitness, be kind to the environment, and be our most attractive selves. The first message here is "be worried about the health effects of what you're eating- and don't trust what you're hearing from others." The second message is "there are foods that can prevent disease, slow aging, and make you simultaneously more fit, moral, and attractive- you just have to listen to me." Unfortunately, these two claims are the same ones that everyone else is making, albeit with wildly varying specific content. In this general context of heightened fear, confusion, and hope- all directed at our dietary choices- it is especially significant that we in the affluent West have a range of dietary choices unparalleled in human history. What fruits and vegetables are available to us at the grocery store is no longer dependent on either the season of the year or the region in which we live. Even the smallest of convenience stores is likely to have a number of items labeled as "healthy alternatives," and larger stores contain a vast and bewildering display of foods our grandparents never imagined. One social change this has contributed to is an increased sense of relation between one's diet and one's identity. Now that our diets are not constrained by geographical limitations, what we eat, when we eat, and how we eat speak volumes about who we are- or at least who we want to be. This shift shows up in linguistic practice as well. Instead of saying "I don't eat gluten" or "I don't eat sugar," for instance, a person today is likely to say "I'm glutenfree," or "I'm sugarfree." Today, food is political; food is social; food is a deep expression of one's identity. In this context, an obsession with the ideal diet for optimal health makes all the sense in the world. Yet, as Bordo pointed out with respect to hysteria, agoraphobia, and anorexia, "the symptoms of these disorders isolate, weaken, and undermine the sufferers; at the same time they turn the life of the body into an allabsorbing fetish, beside which all other objects of attention pale into unreality."30 The same is true, as we have seen, in the case of orthorexia: the literal embodiment of the conflicting sociocultural norms surrounding "healthy eating" ultimately render their subject nonfunctional.31 30 Bordo, Unbearable Weight, 168. 31 The fact that orthorexia fits so neatly into the explanatory framework that Bordo provides also supports her argument in "The Body" that we should not read disorders such as hysteria and anorexia as successful- even if unconscious- protests against prevailing social norms. She stresses the "counterproductive, tragically selfdefeating (indeed, selfdeconstructing) nature" of whatever sort of protest might be involved in these disorders (Unbearable Weight, 176). The unconscious protest involved in orthorexia would have to be posed against contemporary constructions of health, or of the particular constructions of health for men and women, but that does not seem to fit with the disorder's phenomena (or phenomenology). OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 563 10/24/2017 9:42:15 PM 564 Christina Van Dyke Healthy Eating as the New Religion The effortful act of eating the right food may begin to invoke a sense of spirituality. As orthorexia progresses, a day filled with wheat grass juice, tofu, and quinoa biscuits may come to feel as holy as one spent serving the destitute and homeless. - Steven Bratman, Health Food Junkies32 The connection between food and our sense of individual identity brings up another key feature of the social ground in which orthorexia flourishes- namely, the spiritual significance food has taken on in contemporary culture. In this section, I briefly address the relation between religion and food, and I then argue that ambiguities in current concepts of "health" make us particularly prone to move from seeing food as important for biological functioning to viewing it as the key to the sort of wholelife flourishing that religions often promise. Although the term "orthorexia" is new, the idea that we can (and should) purify ourselves via our diet is hardly a new phenomenon. From the ancient Pythagoreans to the mystery cults that flourished in the early Roman Empire, from medieval religious orders in Europe to the Transcendentalist movement in nineteenthcentury America, what we ingest has long been imbued with spiritual significance.33 We live now in a largely "postreligious " culture, but our speech about food retains religious overtones, and diet and food occupy a place in our lives that sometimes takes on salvific significance. So strong is this association that diet can take on such significance even in evangelical culture that already preaches a Savior, resulting in books with titles such as What Would Jesus Eat and Slim for Him.34 There is, of course, an inextricably intimate relation between food, health, and life. The childhood chant "You are what you eat!" rings true to us in a visceral way: eating is a primal act through which we connect with the world around us, literally taking into 32 Bratman, Health Food Junkies, 9. 33 I talk about the religious significance of eating in Christina Van Dyke, "Eating as a Gendered Act: Christianity, Feminism, and Reclaiming the Body," in Readings in the Philosophy of Religion, 2d ed., ed. K. Clark (Peterborough, ON, Canada: Broadview Press), 2008. See also Rudolph Bell's Holy Anorexia (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985) examines the significance that food takes on for medieval nuns; Catherine Walker Bynum has since written several books detailing the religious significance of food and eating in the medieval period. See, e.g., Holy Feast and Holy Fast (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988) and many of the essays in Fragmentation and Redemption: Essays on Gender and the Human Body in Medieval Religion (New York: Zone Books, 1991). For a general overview of religious movements that have given diet- particularly a vegetarian diet- spiritual significance, see Carol Adams, The Sexual Politics of Meat: A Feminist Vegetarian Critical Theory (New York: Continuum International Publishing Group, 1990; new material in the 10th anniversary edition, 2000), chs. 6 and 7. 34 I discuss this phenomenon in "Eating as a Gendered Act," 482– 484. For a booklength discussion of the complex relation between food, religion, and diet in American Christianity, see Marie Griffith, Born Again Bodies: Flesh and Spirit in American Christianity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004). OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 564 10/24/2017 9:42:16 PM Eat Y'Self Fitter 565 ourselves part of what was around us. We also frequently talk about food and eating in religiously and morally loaded terms, saying that we were "bad" after eating potato chips, or refusing the offer of dessert because we are "trying to be good," and experiencing guilt for "cheating" on one's diet is practically ubiquitous. Marketing has picked up and run with this tendency; the side of every case of the enormously popular LaCroix sparkling water, for instance, currently has text that reads "Naturally Essenced: 0- Calorie, 0- Sweetener, 0- Sodium = INNOCENT." Small wonder that a culture that is increasingly focused on the health effects of one's diet would yield a corresponding increase in people who seek purity and transcendence through that diet. This trend seems particularly predictable in the cultural absence of belief in a God who grants eternal life. One of the persistent appeals of salvific religions, after all, is the promise of immortality; the fear of death is a powerful motivator. The conceptual link between disease and death heightens the relevance of eating healthy, when what is being promised by these diets is no less than a longer, happier, diseasefree existence. Platforms that promote the idea of "food as medicine," for instance, easily take on religious overtones when they promise that the right diet will reverse or prevent not just such common conditions as type2 diabetes, cancer, and heart disease but also autism, "sexual problems," and "anxiety and stress."35 Diets that claim to increase longevity and to halt or reverse the signs of aging are endemic: not only do we not want to die, but we also want our bodies to function perfectly as we continue to live. There is an additional, key factor at work in the way that diet has assumed such monumental importance, I believe- one that requires us to look more closely at the overlapping but distinct conceptions of "health" at play in contemporary Western culture. Everyone knows what "health" and "healthy" mean, at least until they are asked to put that knowledge into words. At that point, it becomes clear how many complex and moving parts there are to what we think health is, and what we want our talk of health to mean. As Rebecca Kukla notes: "Health is an intuitive notion and not a technical term. . . . It has proven surprisingly difficult to come up with a rigorous definition of health that accommodates all our core intuitions about what work the notion should do for us."36 The concept of health is central to medicine and related practices; it is also central to socialpolitical ideas of what we justly care about and to what services we believe societies should provide. It is not clear, however, to what extent the concepts important to the medical community and the concepts important to sociopolitical discussions converge and diverge, in part because they often possess differing vocabularies and focal points.37 35 See the Naked Food website, "Food as Medicine" tab, which includes all these conditions and many more as healable by the proper diet: http:// nakedfoodmagazine.com, as of January 10, 2017. 36 "Medicalization, 'Normal Function,' and the Definition of Health," in Routledge Companion to Bioethics, ed. J. Arras, E. Fenton, and R. Kukla (New York: Routledge, 2015), 515– 530, at 515. 37 For an excellent overview of the various issues at stake in this discussion and of the different positions taken, see Elselijn Kingma, "Contemporary Accounts of Health," in Health: The History of a Concept, ed. Peter Adamson (New York: Oxford University Press, forthcoming). The other papers in this volume provide important historical perspectives on the concept of health, covering a variety of cultures. OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 565 10/24/2017 9:42:16 PM 566 Christina Van Dyke For my purposes, one aspect of this ambiguity proves particularly significant: namely, the fact that health can be taken (and sometimes does) refer to both statistically normal biological function (as in the influential "biostatistical theory" offered by Christopher Boorse38) and to "a state of complete physical, mental and social wellbeing and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity" (as the constitution of the World Health Organization famously defined health in 1948).39 There is, of course, a world of difference between total wellbeing on the physical, psychological, and social levels and "normal" biological functioning, and it is that world in which orthorexia flourishes.40 In specialized philosophical discussions, we find accounts of health that range from Carel's "feeling of being at home in one's body,"41 to Boorse's purportedly valueneutral concepts of health as absence of disease and proper biological function, to Canguilhem's account of health as flexibility, "in the sense that a healthy organism can tolerate environmental impacts, adapts to new situations and possesses a store of energy and audacity."42 Other accounts of health characterize the healthy person as someone who is able to meet her goals successfully, at which point the discussion turns to whether there should be restrictions on what appropriate goals might be.43 Further complications arise when we see that physical health and mental health are just as often distinguished as they are grouped together in general discussions of "health." In more recent philosophical literature, moreover, the concept of goalimplementation and satisfaction is often discussed under the label of "wellbeing" or "wellness," and health is taken to be one aspect of what constitutes a person's wellbeing. This is by no means an exhaustive record of attempts to provide an adequate account of "health," but it- and the fact that each of these accounts has some cultural resonance- is sufficient for demonstrating why health proves such a fraught concern 38 Christopher Boorse's 1977 article, "Health as a Theoretical Concept" (Philosophy of Science 44:542– 573) represents one of the most important attempts to capture the concept of "health" for theoretical purposes; his 100page "A Rebuttal on Health," in What Is Disease?, ed. J. M. Humber and R. F. Almeder (Totowa, NJ: Humana Press, 1997), 3– 143, rather exhaustively covers both the development of his own theory and objections and responses to it. 39 Preamble to the Constitution of WHO as adopted by the International Health Conference, New York, June 19‒July 22, 1946; signed on July 22, 1946 by the representatives of 61 states (Official Records of WHO, no. 2, p. 100) and entered into force on April 7, 1948. The definition has not been amended since 1948. Available online at http:// www.who.int/ suggestions/ faq/ en/ . 40 Madison Powers and Ruth Faden argue strongly, for instance, for the importance of distinguishing between health and wellbeing. See their Social Justice: The Moral Foundations of Public Health and Health Policy (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006). 41 Havi Carel, for instance, takes a phenomenological approach to the concepts of health and illness. See Havi Carel, "Can I Be Ill and Happy?" Philosophia 35 (2007): 95– 110; and Havi Carel, Illness: The Cry of the Flesh (Dublin: Acumen, 2008). 42 Georges Canguilhem, The Normal and the Pathological, trans. C. R. Fawcett (New York: Zone Books, 1991). The original work was published in 1943. 43 See, e.g., Caroline Whitbeck, who talks about health in goaloriented terms, where a person's ends are left nonrestricted and thus apply to "goals, projects and aspirations in a wide variety of situations" (620), in "A Theory of Health," in Concepts of Health and Disease: Interdisciplinary Perspectives, ed. A. L. Caplan and H. T. Engelhardt Jr. (Reading, MA: AddisonWesley, 1981), 611– 626. OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 566 10/24/2017 9:42:16 PM Eat Y'Self Fitter 567 for the orthorexic. If your stated goal is health and your increasingly monolithic focus is what diet will optimize that health, the fact that that word can mean anything from normal biological functioning (which itself can be spelled out in any of a variety of ways) to the feeling of being at ease in one's body to complete physiopsychosocial flourishing provides a wealth of ways to slide between conceptions. In this context, what you are putting in your body as fuel can easily also be viewed as what will make you comfortable in your own skin or provide you with a flourishing life as a whole. This ambiguity proves particularly problematic in the sorts of discussion that conflate health with wellness; wellness has taken on even broader implications in contemporary culture, adding environmental, occupational, and spiritual flourishing to existing conceptions of health as physical, emotional, intellectual, and social flourishing. Health as a social construct, then, is a highly slippery concept, loaded up with all sorts of cultural ideals. Even when we attempt to (or claim that we are) using "health" in a nonvalueladen way, we implicitly smuggle in all sorts of social values- a fact that becomes clear whenever "being attractive" is equated with "being healthy."44 Many of the implicit values at play in these discussions of health are deeply gendered; in the following section, I address the way in which gender is linked up with different conceptions of health and, thus, how we should expect orthorexia to manifest differently for men and for women. Gendered Eating and the Quest for "Health" I Didn't Let Cancer Stop Me from Getting to a Healthy Weight! - Headline from Women's Health Magazine, February 201545 Eating disorders have traditionally been coded as "female" and associated with weight and body image in young women. As we have seen, however, orthorexia is a disorder that appears to affect men and women at roughly equal rates and across a wide range of ages. Given the discussion of the previous two sections, however, this should come as no surprise. "Health" is presented as a universal goal, and the language of toxins and transcendence reaches across the gender divide. We live in a world where gender and food are closely intertwined, however, and thus expectations for the ideal manifestation 44 For a fourpart debate about "health" as a valueneutral versus valueladen term, see Health, Science, and Ordinary Language, ed. Lennart Nordenfelt (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1987). See also Lennart Nordenfelt, On the Nature of Health: An ActionTheoretic Perspective, 2d ed. (Dordrecht: Kluwer, 1995). 45 "I Didn't Let Cancer Stop Me from Getting to a Healthy Weight!" by Julie Letsos, as told to Ashley Oerman, February 20, 2015. The subheading is "Julie Letsos's Amazing Story Will Inspire- and Motivate- You!" See http:// www.womenshealthmag.com/ weightloss/ julieletsosweightlosssuccessstory. OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 567 10/24/2017 9:42:16 PM 568 Christina Van Dyke of health for individual human beings are also gendered (as is the act of eating, attitudes toward appetite, and food itself).46 As I discuss in this section, for men, health is equated primarily with strength and endurance, whereas for women, health is equated with being attractive (i.e., thin) and "empowered." These gendered conceptions of health in turn make it likely that the obsession with healthy eating and the perfect diet will often take on different forms for men and women. Understanding how men and women are expected to perform health differently is thus vital to understanding how orthorexia develops and manifests in different populations. Cultural myths surrounding women and food are well known to be deeply fraught. The central myth, of course, is that women need to maintain tight control over their food intake because they are in constant danger of gaining weight- and of binging when they let their guard down.47 The tight connection between food consumption and unacceptable weight gain makes eating an inherently dangerous activity for women: one that involves a great deal of thought and planning. The very existence of physical appetite is constructed as problematic for women: hunger has always been the central enemy in the myth of female eating. Not surprisingly, cultural myths surrounding "women's health" also center on the dangers inherent in female appetite. Being healthy is cashed out in terms of energy, youthfulness, and- above all- slenderness. The FoodBabe, for instance (discussed in the third section), promises that following her diet tips will help you "break free from the toxins in your food, lose weight, look years younger and get healthy today."48 "Lose," "shrink," "slim," and "drop" are the common buzzwords on women's health sites. Hunger is something to be "beaten" or "conquered," and health is a matter of looking and feeling "great." The foods that women are most encouraged to eat for their health are typically described as lowfat, lowcalorie, and almost anything that includes the descriptor "free": glutenfree , dairyfree, and so on. Organic vegetables and fruits are endemic in recommendations for promoting female health, a fact that only reinforces the longstanding association of women with the natural world and the connection of women with vegetarianism.49 46 For detailed discussion of these issues as they pertain to constructions of both masculinity and femininity, see Van Dyke, "Eating as a Gendered Act" and "Manly Meat and Gendered Eating: Correcting Imbalance and Seeking Virtue," in Philosophy Comes to Dinner: Arguments about the Ethics of Eating, ed. A. Chignell, T. Cuneo, and M. Haltemann (New York: Routledge Press, 2016), 39– 55. 47 It is important to note here that these cultural myths are not meant to characterize or capture the individual experiences of many- or even most- of the people living in the culture. Rather than describing actual, lived experiences, cultural myths tell persuasive stories about how things are for everyone else. In so doing, they present a "norm" against which people in that culture are meant to evaluate themselves and their behavior. This creates a framework in which people (and their actions) gain cultural intelligibility. When you buy a minivan after the birth of your first child, for example, or eat a pint of ice cream after a breakup, your actions have a particular significance because of the cultural myths surrounding those actions. 48 Vani Hari, The Food Babe Way: Break Free from the Hidden Toxins in Your Food and Lose Weight, Look Years Younger, and Get Healthy in Just 21 Days! (New York: Little, Brown, 2015). 49 A number of ecofeminists have explicitly advocated for a rejection of animal products and the consumption of animal flesh. See, e.g., Greta Gaard, "Ecofeminism and Native American Cultures," in her edited collection Ecofeminism: Women, Animals, and Nature (Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press, 1993); Lori Gruen, "Dismantling Oppression: An Analysis of the Connection between Women OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 568 10/24/2017 9:42:16 PM Eat Y'Self Fitter 569 Men live in a different world when it comes to social constructions of hunger and appetite. First, men are expected to display robust appetite. In fact, a "healthy" appetite is central to constructions of masculinity, and the appropriate response to such an appetite is frequent and hearty eating. "Eating healthy" for men is a matter of attaining and demonstrating strength and virility. Although for women, "diet" is a term synonymous with restriction and repression of appetite, for men "diet" is usually cashed out in terms of power, strength, and endurance. Men are exhorted to "Power Up Your Diet!", to "Tackle Hunger," and to eat "12 Perfect Muscle Foods." The most common buzzwords in discussions of male health are "build," "fight," "power up," and comparatives like "bigger," "faster," and "harder." Men are not expected to give up meat for their health unless they are aging and trying to avoid heart disease and problems with high cholesterol: vegetarian and vegan men thus often take pains to prove their masculinity, frequently describing their lifestyles in terms such as "extreme" and performanceenhancing.50 In this connection, it is worth noting that a current google image search of "orthorexia" turns up stock photo after stock photo of young, thin, attractive women (mostly white) cavorting with mounds of fruits and vegetables- frequently with tape measures or scales included to indicate the slimming effects of these foods. There are, in fact, only two males pictured in the first fifty images: the first is a young boy rejecting a bagel because it is not "paleo" and the second is a very thin, nonstandardlyattractive man with paintedblack fingernails and tattoos looking anxious and holding an avocado. Despite the fact that orthorexia is a condition that can negatively impact sufferers' mental, emotional, and physical health, the contemporary cultural mythology surrounding food, appetite, and gender is (as yet) unable to accommodate the idea that striving for the ideal diet via obsession with consuming only "healthy" foods is (1) an actual problem, and (2) a problem that might affect men as well as women. Facing Our Finitude Perfectionism is one way our muscles cramp. In some cases, we don't even know that the wounds and the cramping are there, but both limit us. They and Animals" (in the same collection); and Marti Kheel, "The Liberation of Nature: A Circular Affair," Environmental Ethics 7 (1985): 135– 149, and "Vegetarianism and Ecofeminism: Toppling Patriarchy with a Fork," in Food for Thought: The Debate over Eating Meat (New York: Prometheus Books, 2004), 327– 343. Catharine MacKinnon summarizes these sentiments in "Of Mice and Men: A Feminist Fragment on Animal Rights," in Animal Rights: Current Debates and New Directions, ed. C. Sunstein and M. Nussbaum (New York: Oxford University Press, 2004). 50 See, e.g., "Vegans and Masculinity: PlantPowered Bodybuilder Debunks Myths," The Scavenger, November 2013 (http:// www.thescavenger.net/ socialjusticetoall/ socialjusticeforanimals/ 862vegans andmasculinityplantpoweredbodybuilderdebunksmyths.html); and "For These Vegans, Masculinity Means Saving the Planet," The Salt: What's on Your Plate, NPR, July 2014 (http:// www.npr. org/ templates/ transcript/ transcript.php?storyId=332329709). OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 569 10/24/2017 9:42:16 PM 570 Christina Van Dyke keep us moving . . . in tight, worried ways. They keep us standing back or backing away from life, keep us from experiencing life in a naked and immediate way. - Anne LaMott, Bird by Bird51 Where before there had been tough fibers, hardness, and held breath, now there were mud, dirt, water, air, mess- and I felt soft and clean. - Anne LaMott, Traveling Mercies52 Ideals of health are gendered, and women and men are thus sometimes portrayed as though they are striving toward radically different goals in the elusive quest for perfect health. In this concluding section, however, I want to suggest that we should not let gendered conceptions of health blind us to an extremely important commonality- namely, that what makes orthorexia destructive to both men and women is ultimately a common urge to transcend rather than to embrace the realities of embodiment. Whether cashed out in "male" or "female" terms, I believe that the selfdefeating obsession with healthy eating and the optimal diet masks a deep underlying fear of embodiment, what Elisabeth Spelman has termed "somatophobia" or bodyloathing.53 This might at first seem counterintuitive. How can the ideals of respecting your body by eating for its health and being kind to yourself by optimizing your wellbeing actually be manifesting a distaste of physicality? What about the people who claim that their interest is in maximizing the amazing power of the body as an incredible thing capable of transcendent experiences? Doesn't that indicate that orthorexia is really a love for the body that goes too far, rather than displaying a fear or loathing of embodiment? In response, I would repeat Susan Bordo's memorable comment that "we may be obsessed with our bodies, but we are hardly accepting of them."54 That is, we should not assume that selfproclaimed respect for our bodies actually indicates love for our physicality. If anything, the idea that we are trying to maximize the health of our bodies so that they can function as better tools for our purposes seems to indicate an underlying identification of us as not those bodies, of us as trying to move beyond the limitations of human embodiment. After all, as we saw in the second section, one of the main characteristics of orthorexia is that the subject's quest for the perfect diet and ideal health ultimately detracts from rather than enhances their overall wellbeing. As the focus on disciplining one's appetites and controlling one's diet intensifies, the subject subordinates previous values and lifegoals to "righteous eating," avoiding situations in which they cannot control 51 Anne LaMott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life (New York: Anchor Books, 1994), 30 52 Anne LaMott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith (New York: Anchor Books, 1999), 265. 53 See Elizabeth Spelman, "Race & Gender: The Ampersand Problem in Feminist Thought," ch. 5 in Inessential Woman: Problems of Exclusion in Feminist Thought (Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 1988), 114– 132. 54 Bordo, Unbearable Weight, 15. OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 570 10/24/2017 9:42:16 PM Eat Y'Self Fitter 571 what they ingest and punishing themselves for failure with fasting, cleansing, and further restrictions. This, it seems to me, displays precisely the sort of effort at controlling and subduing one's body that is central to discomfort with embodiment. It is important to stress that I am not implying that all forms of attention to health and a healthy diet display somatophobic tendencies- indeed, far from it! Rather, the connection that I am drawing between orthorexia and somatophobia is meant to illuminate how an interest in healthy eating can develop into an unhealthy obsession. Despite its emphasis on health and wellbeing, orthorexia's focus on purity and an idealized state of being (frequently described in terms of enlightenment, unity, and peace) and its rigid opposition to anything perceived as a threat to that goal reinforces rather than undermines the somatophobia that is one of the hallmarks of Western culture. In short, I believe that orthorexia is best understood as a manifestation of ageold anxieties about human finitude and mortality- anxieties which current dominant sociocultural forces prime us to experience and express in unhealthy attitudes toward healthy eating. The current, ubiquitous quest for a healthy lifestyle should not, then, be accepted at face value as a positive move forward in Western culture. It should be examined carefully, and the underlying values in our discussions of "health" examined carefully and cautiously. In particular, I believe that we should resist the push toward moralizing "healthy" food choices as somehow morally (as opposed to merely nutritionally) superior to their alternatives.55 If we do otherwise, we risk entrenching somatophobia even more firmly in cultural consciousness- continuing to search for the transcendence of what we secretly loathe.56 55 This should be understood as applying only to the moralization of food choices taken for their own sake. I am not in any way implying that we not recognize and grapple with the wide range of pressing normative issues surrounding food production, access, consumption, and so on. 56 As usual, I owe so many people thanks for their input that I run the risk of forgetting some, so please forgive me if your name should be here but isn't. Special thanks, though, to audiences at the University of ColoradoBoulder, the 2015 Food Ethics workshop at University of Vermont, the 2015 Rocky Mountain Ethics Congress, Hong Kong University, and Boise State University for their feedback on earlier versions of this paper. Discussions with Rebecca Chan, Ben Hale, Megan Maguire, and Tyler Doggett proved particularly helpful; finally, my son David and my partner Andrew have both heard me wax eloquent on this topic to the point where I feel the need to thank them for their continued affection. OUP UNCORRECTED PROOF – FIRSTPROOFS, Tue Oct 24 2017, NEWGEN oxfordhb-9780199372263_Part6.indd 571 10/24/2017 9:42:16 PM
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
QUANTUM PSYCHOID FREEWILL? Excerpt by Quantum Psychoid Freewill? From "Psyche and Reality" Abstract: What we've considered so far about the epistemology of human sciences comes up again as to the concept of "destiny''and human free will: who "must" tell us if we are destined or not? Either Neuroscientists or sociologists? Either Philosophers or biochemists? Has psychology anything to say? Do we need a pool to gather them all? Many other questions come up: what determines us and how much? ls there any sense in talking about destiny? We are a complex system and our conscience is an epiphenomenon of a unitary hierarchical system: would this exclude any possibility of choice? And what does "free choice" mean? And what about the consequences on the ethics? Being Jung and Pauli's thought a reference point, might we outline a comprehensive reading as regards such problems, even thinking of a sort of quantum psychoid free will? " On the other hand God himself appears To be free and bound at the same time." ( Spinoza ) We want now outline the hypothesis that Jung and Pauli's theory on synchronicity might contribute to today's debate on the comprehension of the problem of human liberty. We'll start from Jung's conception of the Self, that he considered psychoid, and present the possible attributions and peculiarities coming from such "quantum psychoid " inflection. In this text we'll only outline such possibilities, aiming to deal the subject more fully in another context. In order to make clear our thought, with this work we would share a decisively anti-reductionist line ( see O'Connor and Dupré's positions ) of today's philosophical debate on free will problem. Our assumption is that Jung and Pauli's work about the theory of synchronicity might at least allow to consider interesting a quantum psychoid side inside the debate about free will; therefore we don't presume to trace a finished theory. We only want to suggest the hypothesis that the epistemology of synchronistic phenomena working in the ambit of a superordered a-causal law might in some way contribute to today's debate on human liberty. Let's then consider Pauli's position about the fundamental problem of the psychic laws being autonomous as to the physical laws, or of their possible adjustment or reduction. The epistemologicaI studies about the conception of free will have taken different positions just as to this kind of relation epistemologically "fundamental". Let's quote Pauli (1948) : Since the deterministic conception has been abandoned in physics, there are not even reasons to maintain a vitalistic conception according to which the soul might or should "violate'' the physical laws. lt rather seems to me that an essential part of the "universal harmony" consists in making the physical laws to leave just a margin for a different way to observe and consider things (biology and psychology) so that the soul can achieve all its "aims" without violating the physical laws. In this context psyche and reality appear as undersystems of a superordered global system; the autonomy of the two systems is safe and in Pauli's vision physical and psychic laws are wholly compatible, psyche mirrors matter and matter mirrors psyche: According to psychology, physical laws seem to be a "projection" of a constellation of archetypal ideas while, seen from outside, also microphysical events are to be interpreted as archetypal and their "reflection" in the psyche is a necessary condition to sense them. This is the foundation of our position and the passage we have just quoted seems to us an accurate, courageous and also moving "manifesto" of a new era, when psyche and reality will be considered as interconnected. We would start then from Von Franz; in her opinion the acknowledgment of a possible complex genetic, cultural, psychic, social nucleus existing in the individuals doesn't exempt man from the active involvement in the struggle between good and evil; the subjective feeling of moral liberty is an integral part of man just as the experience of non-liberty. But if stimulus most of all of superindividual order drive us, they are not nourished by a mere genetic-environmental and socio-cultural nucleus, but just by instinctive and archetypal motivations and inclinations. In our opinion they don't prejudice the possibility of ranges of free effectiveness of the human will, in a sense that we define quantum psychoid, but then it is necessary, according to Jung, to define better the whole sense and the possible consequences of answering the archetypal needs of the collective unconscious. Let's now see better the subjective sensations mentioned by Von Franz that can be interpreted as the possible personal perception of "destined situation" but most of all as real psychic canalizing lines that the unconscious is able to produce, as also Freud tells us. Compensation as a sort of "destiny", therefore the contents that come from the Self and that the I doesn't accept are projected towards the outside and personified; they take the appearance of "compensatory" persons and situations, both in friendship and in love; such projections, coming from contents unaccepted by the unconscious, predominate with the Numinous' strength and are perceived as exterior, with the sensation of a sort of inevitability and external intrusion. In this sense the individuals themselves "create" if not their destiny, situations that help them to evolve as to the denied contents, whose assimilation therefore represents a new evolutionary possibility. Let's see a passage from Greene (1984) : In such circumstances the beloved object that is "responsible" for invoking such a mental whirl of archetypal images is seldom human; rather it is semidivine, owing to the mythological nature of the projection and the numinous character that accompanies these experiences of the inmost interior. Such meetings are usually defined as "predestined" because they are perceived in this way. lt's hard to confute all this, since such meetings appear appropriate, both as to their effect in the immediate future and in terms of influence during the evolution of both individuals.... Such, models that I think to be the nucleus of mythological stories and which Jung refers to as "complex" are, in a certain sense, destiny, they are planned since birth. And Greene again (1984) : What according to a certain point of view appears as Moira's sullen face becomes a design with its own meaning, seen from another perspective: in spite of this no one is ever given this second opportunity, maybe because no one needs it; or, if there were another possibility, maybe we all would be able, but we're not allowed such opportunity. The same sensation of something "perfectly fitting" emerges when one works at deep level with the dreams, because they perfectly fit that given person and while they seem to take a casual, senseless course, in the end they always reveal a noteworthy order and a design, order and design whose reasons are repeatedly before the patient's eyes. Furthermore, the topics that seemed out of focus some months before come back to the surface, in a perfect juxtaposition, reflecting the changes that meanwhile had taken place in the conscience. lt's the "live" commentary on life, told by "something" interior. One has the unavoidable sensation that a superhuman craftsman has weaved this storyline. But what can be then the Ego cole with reference to the overwhelming energy of the Self? The problem is evidently to elaborate, if possible, the I's and the Self's roles, as we are going to try further and in the next chapter. We want to start from the Selfs central role. In tune with the Jungian hypothesis we believe that this regulatory center of the psyche, the Self as said, may be more deeply analyzed in its substantial quantum psychoid evolution. We say quantum psychoid since the Self appears as we'll outline in the next chapter as a sort of quantum psychoid transductor of the psyche's evolutive spiritual necessities in a general sense. We think that the whole psychic system as outlined by Jung and articulated in the finalistic web that simultaneously involves the symbol's energetics has a synchronistic matrix. This by means of the transcendental function that operates in the dreams and the imaginative productions driven by the individuation principle guided by the Self. In the same way also many biochemical interior processes might be of quantum psychoid nature, including perhaps the strange phenomenon of the placebo effect, but evident scientific results in this direction need still more researching. On the other hand we know that to Jung " synchronicity is the principle of the unique cases that compose the whole reality'' as Von Franz (1988) writes: Such evolution of the Self in a quantum psychoid sense seems to be a possible direction of research to pursue in Jungian ambit; we think it may be fruitful in euristic sense, for a broader understanding both of the relations between the two fundamental psychic exigencies and also of the phenomenology of human liberty. We think that the relations between the Ego and the Self may be better understood not according to the binary logic but by means of a "tertium" that can include them, just a psychoid space, a sort of matrix that, whether existing in the ambit of the relations between psyche and reality, can be able to exist even inside the psyche and inside the matter, just because both seem to belong to a superordered order whose point of contact is the psychoid space. We agree with Greene when he writes (1984) : The Self is the image of that interior instinct that drives the individual to evolve into himself, to become the only single and meaningful whole that has always remained in a " potential" state. We think then to perceive the harmony of the Jungian system as a whole that, even if not defined with the nomotetic coherence of a scientific proof or in the logic consistency of a philosophical system can however rely on the powerful atout (trump card) of the empirical coherence and on the contribution in transparency of the tradition, both religious and of thought in the Western and the Eastern world; the empirical research of various disciplines such as the cultural anthropology as to the concept of compensation, coincidence of the opposites or the universal knowledge of the use and perception of the symbolic may also be a reference point, just as the ethological studies, as it has by now been underlined. In Jungian hypothesis this central archetype, the Self, seems to be the most charged energetically speaking, therefore able to operate through the quantum psychoid space, bypassing the usual space-time and material barriers, just as it occurs in synchronistic phenomena; it would also be capable of operating in the individuals' bodily sphere and, unexpectedly, of canalizing meetings, decisions, events. We really find ourselves in an unexpected dimension. But we're not thinking of a vitalistic-pacifier conception of the individuation process and therefore of a luminous finalism, absolutely impossible considering the Jungian conception of an essentially compensatory and interpenetrating process operating in the psyche. Since it is as if God had in a certain sense a terrific part of himself, expressing however the absolute "coincidentia oppositorum" (Cusano), and the numinous of the Self, real presence metaphorically but intensely divine inside us, in this conception couldn't help re-echoing in harmonic analogy with the Absolute. It's evident anyway a marked finalism that Jung (1916-1917) has always encouraged to consider existing in the psyche. The synchronistic phenomena appear to be guided by the intrinsic telos of the individuation process linked to the Self's ineffability, that can represent a process internal to the a-causal energetic of the quantum psychoid space, a sort of Bergson's élan vital. We depict a quantum "profile" of the concept of human liberty, we would be free and constrained at the same time, just as the matter itself, interpenetrated with the psyche in this theoretical ambit, lives in a superimposed state. Just as the position of the electrons as to their velocity (Heisenberg) is a cloud of possibilities, so in our opinion the Ego might represent a cloud of possibilities of choice and non-choice, of determinism and indeterminacy, in a simultaneous and superimposed "interpenetration". Von Franz tells us that men are guided and at the same time free in every situation. A "mysterious farce" seems sometimes to come into play: it's a capricious farce; it mixes meaningful and non meaningful facts according to an order dictated by its own laws or by a lack of laws. Then the sole logic can't lead us on this ground but, as we have seen, the Symbol outlines extra logic energetics that also seem guided by a sort of law of general analogy; as a tension towards the fulfilled and the harmonic, such energetics seem to appear at different levels of the reality and the psyche: something like the amazing finalism of the crystals producing harmonic forms. The vision that we sketch out here recalls the French physicist J-E' Charon's conception (1989) . He writes in fact: The behavior of the subatomic particles obeys a double compulsion in each instant: = a will, that allows the individual particle to know the possible behaviours and their respective probabilities, but without actually being able to act; = a nonwill formed by an intuitive link of the Spirit of the individual particle with the whole; it causes the particle to behave so as to meet the global evolution of the Whole (that is of the entire Universe) . As to the free will, we think it possible to hypothesize that the fact of testing simultaneously the moral experience and the experience of liberty in empirical and subjective way could appear in a certain sense as a synchronic experience, as a sort of sign of quantum psychoid liberty. We want moreover claim that, whether the individuative telos exists in the psyche, whether, we mean, any form of energy should exist to continuously transcend the present state, to make the psyche evolve, to make it emerge as to the collective contents we continuously have to face, well, wouldn't it be plausible to hypothesize the existence of a space of liberty, considered such concentration of energy? Could it have any sense a process that prepares the conditions of choice as to the assimilation of the rejected contents of the unconscious, as to the possibility of learning from one's own mistakes, as to the courage of listening to oneself's most creative parts, could it have any sense without a degree of freedom? In front of so many possibilities, might not exist a free choice factor, even if a partial and a limited one, as we have described? We don't think so. Furthermore we think that the quantum psychoid nature of human liberty can be sketched out just by the intrinsic nature of the psyche's regulatory centre that is the Self, of psychoid nature itself as Jung has claimed. Let's mention also Duns Scoto's work. A true forerunner of modernity, he reflects on the possibility of man's liberty as to the divine: he asks himself whether there is human liberty in front of the divine omniscience and gets to the theory of synchronic contingency. The question is in fact that the contemporaneous presence of the certain awareness of God and of the contingency of future events isn't possible. But every achievement in the way things are implies a contrary synchronic possibility, since in every temporal moment there might exist unrealized possibilities; starting from this corollary Scoto proves that the contemporaneous presence of divine omniscience and future human contingency is possible. The world present order, on the other hand, is not the only order possible, Scoto states, with an intuition that in some way anticipate Leibniz 'vision. As to the synchronic contingency, in a certain sense it's a matter of quantum solution: to Scoto in fact the will can act both freely ( way of power acting ) and necessarily ( way of being of the object which the will refers to). To conclude the philosophical references we'll mention Nicola Cusano, who considers the fundamental concept of the coincidence of the contraries as foundation of all beings' existence. The links with Jung are evident. The creation is God's contraction, which is therefore the very universe, the way God manifests himself as Meister Eckhart tells us in other words, and as it is in Giordano Bruno's thought, where a pantheist unity of thought and matter, of psyche and reality seem to be achieved. In the end we think it possible that the psyche's evolutive finalism, owing to its very nature and existence, may suggest that the freedom of choice is most of all inherent in the moral choice. The space of the liberty seems after all to be the space that a finalism inherent in the psyche and the matter grants to the human beings, a synchronic quantum psychoid finalism that, just in Plotino's vision, finds its foundation in listening to the messages of the Unus, but most of all in being in the condition of listening to them. All this seems to foreshadow an evolutive awareness that we think to have the sense of a spiritual consciousness.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
BOOK REVIEW by Jennifer A. McMahon in The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 59:3 (2001): 334-336 Kirwan, James. Beauty. Manchester University Press, 1999, pp. x + 182, US$ (cloth), US$ (paper). Kirwan identifies three kinds of beauty theory within the Western tradition. These are: 'in the eye of the beholder' theories; neoplatonic theories; and what he refers to as synaesthetic theories; which he discusses in chapters 2, 3 and 4 respectively. He places himself within the synaesthetic tradition whose emphasis is apparently on the interaction between the beautiful object and the perceiver. Kirwan, however, does not analyse this interaction. Nor does he concern himself with what makes the experience of beauty possible, nor what characteristics of an object make it beautiful. Instead, Kirwan's theory of beauty amounts to a phenomenology of beauty. Kirwan is interested in "the structure of feeling involved in beauty – with respect to which the division between the perceived object and its ground is more important than any formal properties of either " (p.39). The feeling of beauty, according to Kirwan, is a "yearning without object, or yearning which suppresses its object" (p.39). Kirwan's theory of beauty consists in finding an analogue for this yearning in the realm of metaphysics (Ch.4). His is a theory of subjectivity; but a subjectivity in the tradition of Kant's 'universally communicable' subjectivity. In Kirwan's case, however, the basis of this communicability is not spelt out. Kirwan sets up his approach to the subject in chapter 1 when he writes: [I]t may be that beauty comes about only through a deliberately selective perception, a perception that is in some way aware of what it excludes, in so far as, for the sake of the beauty of an object, it can deliberately exclude the more complex object which is its ground. (It may even be that beauty exists only in this act of exclusion itself.) Even if this is not the case, to use the phrase 'beautiful object' to describe the true phenomenal ground of the instance of beauty may be misleading, for, though it is this ground which inspires the sensation of beauty in the subject, it is not, as an object, part of the subject's conscious experience of the sensation of beauty (p.12). At such times, Kirwan's analysis of his own experience of beauty promises to reveal useful distinctions. He does not, however, maintain this analytic vein, opting instead for broad sweeping claims such as that the experience of beauty is the effect of our desire for transcendence, or perfection (p.45). This idea of beauty vindicates the intuition underpinning the neo-platonic understanding of beauty. It is the idea that beauty's manifestations on earth are a mere reflection of 3 beauty proper, the latter a characteristic of the divine. Kirwan drops the framework of divinity, but it is not clear what he replaces it with. The grounding of his transcendental metaphysics is never made clear. It is perhaps easier to grasp Kirwan's idea of beauty by considering the kind of construal of beauty that it disallows. The idea that what is beautiful about an object is "quantifiable solely in terms of the properties of that object" (either to the exclusion or inclusion of the particular subject's interpretation of those properties) is incompatible with Kirwan's notion of beauty (p.47). Also the idea that "the pleasure of beauty is, somehow, identifiable with the pleasure attending the satisfaction of specific physiological goals; and that experiences of beauty are qualitatively different from one another ('high' or 'low')" is rejected by him (p.47). In effect then, Kirwan rejects, on the one hand, Clive Bell's 'formalism', and on the other, the idea that everything that pleases through the senses is beautiful. Neither does he entertain what has become a post-modern cliche that beauty is a cultural construct invented to impose mainstream tastes. Furthermore, his theory of beauty makes no assumptions about art (ch.8). Art may or may not be beautiful. Kirwan attempts to untangle the confusion which exists between the nature of art and the nature of beauty without making reference to specific examples of this confusion in the contemporary literature on beauty. Even so, this is a welcome and very useful distinction. Kirwan, then, recognizes the experience of beauty as an authentic part of what it is to be human but it must be said that what constitutes his 'theory' is left unhelpfully vague. He promises to examine the relation of his theory to three themes traditionally associated with beauty; knowledge, action and morality (in chapters 5,6 and 7 respectively), but we are left no better off regarding the grounds of his theory. One is left with a description of his attitude to beauty rather than an actual theory. For example, in chapter 9, Kirwan sums up: "I have described beauty, and told how the beauty of a thing is always in excess to anything we can hope from that thing, but there will still be beauty. For there is nothing beyond beauty. Everything is as it was. I have nothing to prescribe." (p.124) Such rhetoric, however, is interspersed with some revealing metaphors as when Kirwan reinterprets the Platonic relationship between the sensuous and formless beauty as like looking through the former to the latter with a telescope rather than climbing a ladder from one to the other (ch.7). But such revealing metaphors do not a theory make. Kirwan attempts to reveal rather than analyse. He attempts to keep the experience of beauty before us as a whole rather than dissect it into parts. The result is, however, that he asserts rather than argues. I am sympathetic to the dilemma of style regarding how best to treat the subject of beauty without reducing it beyond recognition. The problem is, however, that without analysis, what is acknowledged as constituting an experience of beauty needs to be taken as 5 a given. This will not do because the philosophical literature, not to mention the literature on beauty in the areas of art theory, sociology and psychology, is not consistent on what constitutes an experience of beauty. Kirwan identifies the locus of the nature of beauty as a subject's response to certain aspects of an object (and a certain construal of these aspects). However, while he explains what he thinks the experience of beauty is like, he presents no compelling argument as to why we should accept his account. At times, he seems to think all deeply moving feelings can be a part of the experience of beauty. According to Kirwan, the more the feeling exhibits a yearning kind of pleasure, a melancholy, the more cultivated the response to beauty is. (He had stated earlier that his theory was incompatible with the idea of high and low forms of beauty but obviously not with high and low forms of the experience of beauty!). Such feelings would preclude, say, the possibility of moral or mathematical beauty, even though Kirwan clearly wants to include moral beauty as a possibility (ch.7). Kirwan makes little of the ground of judgments of beauty. The fact is that without identifying some grounding for judgments of beauty, there is no way to differentiate between what constitutes an experience of beauty and what can sometimes accompany an experience of beauty. This is an important problem which causes many apparent disagreements about beauty and which Kirwan simply side steps. Furthermore, he does not address the classic problem of beauty; the problem concerning the basis for the intersubjectivity of experiences of beauty, when there are no stateable sufficient or necessary conditions for beauty. According to Kirwan, 'Beauty is immediately and (despite its felt subjectivity) irreducibly a sensation – it strikes me.'(p.6) But this belies the way judgments of beauty are defended. A configuration not previously perceived in an object by a particular perceiver can be pointed out to that perceiver so as to give rise to the experience of beauty in that perceiver. This suggests that beauty is reducible even though attempts to reduce beauty to principles seem doomed to failure. The way we defend judgments of beauty is hard to reconcile with the fact that we know something is beautiful by how it makes us feel, not by first judging whether it satisfies certain conditions. Kirwan makes a lot of the latter part of this point but rather than address the tension between this and the way judgments of beauty can be defended, he simply ignores one half of the equation. Kirwan's treatise reads like a poetic expression of what one person takes to be an experience of beauty. What his treatise can be said to contribute is yet another example of the difficulty of understanding beauty simply through a nonanalytical reflection on what is apparently a phenomenology of the experience of beauty. Jennifer A. McMahon Education University of Canberra
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
| Petra Mayr et al. | 90 | TIERethik, 6. Jg. 8(2014/1) sachgemässe und moralisch angemessene Verhältnisse von Menschen und nichtmenschlichen Tieren versperren. In Anbetracht der Zielsetzung der Anthologie, die vielf zwischen den Feldern Tiere, Bilder ßung unterschiedlicher Ansätze aus einem weiten Feld an Forschungsg bieten zu erkunden (11), scheint eine Kritik der bewusst offenen Konze tion nicht geboten. Weil die einzelnen Beiträge im Wesentlichen re bungsfrei nebeneinander stehen, wäre es aber nach dieser Differenzi rungsleistung auch interessant zu wissen, welche Kon Human-Animal Studies existieren und wie die Verfasser und Verfass rinnen zur Zielsetzung ihres methodisch heterogenen Forschungsfeldes stehen. So umfasst der Sammelband Untersuchungen fe marxistischer Theorien, konkrete wissenschaftshistorische und sprachph losophische Studien analytischer Art sowie kultur Analysen zu Kunstwerken und Techniken der Kunsterschaffung. Vie leicht sollte man in Anbetracht dessen eher davon sprechen, dass es sich um „Human-Animal Studies in ... Mensch-Tier-Verhältnis innerhalb bestimmter Fachwissenschaften Sammelband legt dies nahe. Dessen ungeachtet bleibt der Lektüreei druck einer thematisch wie methodologisch heterogenen Sammlung b grüssenswert differenzierter Einzeluntersuchungen. 2.3 Nick Cooney: Veganomics: The Surpri ing Science on What M from the Breakfast Table to the Bedroom 210 S., New York: 20,70 EUR Eines scheint klar: rierinnen und Vegetarier. Nick Cooney, Grü von „The Humane League", einer Tie ganisation mit Sitz in Philadelphia, will in se nem Buch herausfinden, welche Me oder gegen die vegetarische oder vegane E untersucht er eine grosse Menge (hauptsäc mographischer Studien und versucht auf dieser Basis zu ziehen, bei welchen Menschen das grösste Potential zu finden ist, um Literaturbericht Perspektive auf die vielfältigen ältigen Spuren und Ökonomie durch die Erschlieepiefliktlinien in den eministischer und i- und kunsthistorische l- " handelt, d.h. um Studien zum . Der ne- Alexander Christian sotivates Vegetarians, Lantern Books, 2013, Es gibt immer mehr Vegetander rschutzorinschen aus welchen Gründen sich für rnährung entscheiden. Dafür hlich amerikanischer) soziode- , Schlüsse darüber Die Mensch-Tier-Beziehung unter ethischem Aspekt | Literaturbericht TIERethik, 6. Jg. 8(2014/1) | 91 | sie davon überzeugen zu können, vegetarisch oder vegan zu leben, um damit möglichst viele Tiere vor Leid zu bewahren. Das daraus entstandene Buch überzeugt einerseits durch den Umfang an verwendeten Daten und andererseits dadurch, dass exemplarisch beleuchtet wird, wie effizient bestimmte verschiedene Strategien sind, Menschen von einer Ernährungsweise zu überzeugen, die das Leben von Tieren schont. Leider zeigt sich auch, dass die vorhandenen Daten gesicherte Aussagen oft nicht zulassen, womit viele der Schlussfolgerungen Cooneys mit Vorsicht zu geniessen sind. Veganomics gliedert sich grob in drei Teile. Im ersten präsentiert Cooney sein ethisches Framework und untersucht, welche Personen als die typischen vegetarisch lebenden auszumachen sind. Cooneys ethisches Prinzip ist es, möglichst viele Tierindividuen vor Leid zu bewahren. Er argumentiert deshalb, dass es am wichtigsten sei, den Konsum von vergleichsweise kleinen Tieren, wie Fischen und Geflügel, zu reduzieren, da diese den Grossteil der sogenannten Nutztiere ausmachen. Als typische sich vegetarisch ernährende Personen identifiziert er junge Menschen mit guter Bildung und vor allem Frauen. Andere Faktoren wie zum Beispiel das Einkommen spielen hingegen kaum eine Rolle. Daraus schliesst Cooney, dass die beschränkten Ressourcen der Vegetarismus-Bewegung, die andere Menschen dazu motivieren möchte, Tierleid zu verhindern, idealerweise für diese Zielgruppe verwendet werden sollen. Dort ist die Wahrscheinlichkeit am grössten, eine möglichst positive Wirkung zu erzielen: „targeting women should be twice as effective as targeting men" (54). Im zweiten Teil geht Cooney der Frage nach, aus welchen Gründen Menschen Fleisch essen. Er zeigt auch, wie sich der Weg zum vegetarischen Leben gestaltet. Meist vollzieht sich die veränderte Ernährung über eine graduelle Umstellung, welche in jungen Jahren einsetzt und etwa zwei Jahre dauert. Die Hauptgründe für eine solche Umstellung sind dabei einerseits der Wunsch, gesünder zu leben, und andererseits, das Leben von Tieren zu verbessern. Insbesondere bei jungen Menschen, für Cooney die ideale Zielgruppe, spielt die ethische Motivation eine zentrale Rolle. Von besonderem Interesse sind ausserdem die Daten darüber, welche die Hauptmotive für eine vegetarische Ernährung sind. Obwohl nebst Gesundheit und Tierleid auch Sorge um die Umwelt, globale Gerechtigkeit und Geschmack Menschen dazu motiviert, vegetarisch zu leben, steht die ethische Motivation bei den meisten zuoberst. | Petra Mayr et al. | 92 | TIERethik, 6. Jg. 8(2014/1) Literaturbericht Nun, da Cooney aufgezeigt hat, was Menschen dazu bewegt, sich vegetarisch zu ernähren, stellt sich die Frage: Was hält die anderen davon ab? Zentral sind dabei der Geschmack von Fleisch (und anderen Tierprodukten), Sorge um die eigene Gesundheit sowie pragmatische Gründe wie zum Beispiel die Schwierigkeit, sich im Alltag vegetarisch zu ernähren. Deshalb erachtet Cooney es als besonders wichtige Aufgabe der Aktivistinnen und Aktivisten, diese Hürden zu beseitigen. Vor dem Hintergrund der erstaunlichen Tatsache, dass drei Viertel der Menschen, die sich einmal vegetarisch ernährt haben, irgendwann wieder Fleisch essen, wirft Cooney einen Blick auf die Hauptursachen für diesen „Rückfall". Dabei zeigt sich, dass gesundheitliche Probleme die meisten Menschen dazu veranlassen, Fleisch wieder auf ihrem Teller zuzulassen. Deshalb ist es für Cooney unerlässlich, Menschen zu zeigen, wie sie sich über lange Zeit hinweg gesund vegetarisch ernähren können: „If we don't arm people with basic knowledge on how to be healthy as vegetarians, many more will return to eating meat" (87). Dies führt auch nahtlos zur zweiten Ursache, warum die Überzeugungsarbeit nicht immer gut funktioniert: Aktivistinnen und Aktivisten widmen der „Weshalb"-Frage relativ viel Zeit, der „Wie"-Frage jedoch vergleichsweise wenig. Viele Menschen wissen nicht, wie sie sich gesund, vielfältig und in sozialen Zusammenhängen vegetarisch ernähren können, und greifen deshalb irgendwann wieder zu Tierprodukten. Trotz der hohen „Rückfallquote" ist Cooney jedoch nicht völlig beunruhigt, denn seine Daten zeigen, dass Ex-Vegetarierinnen und Ex-Vegetarier deutlich weniger Fleisch konsumieren als andere. Im dritten Teil diskutiert Cooney nun angesichts der bisherigen Analyse die effektivsten Strategien, wie Menschen motiviert werden können, sich vegetarisch zu ernähren. Einerseits meint Cooney, dass es wichtig sei, die geistigen und emotionalen Fähigkeiten von Tieren möglichst deutlich aufzuzeigen: „By emphasizing the emotional richness of farm animals, vegetarian advocates can be more effective at inspiring people to leave meat off their plates. [...] What is particularly effective is to describe an animal's mind, emotions, and personality in human ways" (131). Andererseits betont er, dass das Aufzeigen von Tierleid mittels Flyern und Videos besonders effektiv ist. Im Gegensatz zur Begründung mit der Umweltzerstörung, welche die grossen Nachteile der Tierindustrie für unsere Umwelt als Motivationspunkt anspricht, kann mittels emotionaler Geschichten über die Einzelschicksale von sogenannten Nutztieren besonders effektiv Aufklärungsund Motivationsarbeit geleistet werden. Je Die Mensch-Tier-Beziehung unter ethischem Aspekt | Literaturbericht TIERethik, 6. Jg. 8(2014/1) | 93 | konkreter die Folgen der eigenen Handlungen dargestellt werden, desto erfolgreicher ist die Strategie. Aus dieser sehr datenlastigen und sich teils wiederholenden Lektüre ist ein interessantes und inspirierendes Werk für Aktivistinnen und Aktivisten und andere, die sich für vegetarisch lebende Menschen interessieren, entstanden. Trotzdem ergeben sich vier Problempunkte: Erstens gesteht Cooney ein, dass viele seiner Daten nicht so aussagekräftig sind, wie es auf den ersten Blick aussehen mag. Die soziodemographischen Statistiken geben nur bedingt Aufschluss darüber, wie sich die Kausalverhältnisse abspielen. Gerade diese Kausalverhältnisse sind für eine wissenschaftlich fundierte Strategieauswahl jedoch zentral. Eine ähnliche Kritik wurde bereits an Cooneys erstem Buch Change of Heart (2010) geübt, welches die psychologischen Mechanismen des sozialen Wandels unter die Lupe nahm. Zweitens handelt es sich bei Cooneys Analyse grösstenteils um eine etwas willkürlich anmutende Auswahl von Studien, die zusammengefasst werden. Viele seiner Schlussfolgerungen würden jedoch stattdessen eine systematische Meta-Analyse benötigen, um auch wirklich wissenschaftlich abgestützt zu sein. Drittens lässt sich argumentieren, dass Cooneys Fokus auf die Anzahl der Tiere, welche durch eine bestimmte Strategie gerettet werden können, zu eng ist. Cooney abstrahiert vollständig vom individuellen Leid, welches verschiedenen Tieren zugefügt wird. Für ihn ist eine gerettete Forelle ethisch ebenso bedeutsam wie ein gerettetes Rind. Da individuelles Leid jedoch schwer zu bemessen und zu vergleichen ist, bleibt wohl für die statistisch geleitete Strategieauswahl leider fast keine Alternative, als sich auf die Anzahl geretteter Tiere zu berufen. Die Frage ist aber, ob das nicht kontratintuitiv ist. Warum sollen die Methoden der Statistik definieren, wie wir den ethischen Fokus unserer Strategien setzen? Ein Rind ist ein hochentwickeltes Säugetier, welches womöglich zu komplexerem Leid fähig ist als eine Forelle und deswegen auch ethisch schwerer wiegen sollte. Daran anschliessend stellt sich die generelle Frage, inwiefern die Effizienz von verschiedenen Strategien überhaupt akkurat bemessen werden kann. Vegetarismus-Kampagnen sind einer Vielzahl von psychologischen Effekten unterworfen, welche sich auch durch geschickte Forschungsdesigns nicht völlig ausklammern lassen. Oft ist es zum Beispiel schlicht nicht möglich, eine neutrale Kontrollgruppe zu testen, weil es keine „Neutralität" gibt. | Petra Mayr et al. | 94 | TIERethik, 6. Jg. 8(2014/1) Dies heisst jedoch nicht, dass Strategien völlig ohne Effizienzfrage g wählt werden sollen. Auch wenn in diesem Kontext das Ideal der exakten Wissenschaft wohl nicht erreicht wird, ist der datengestützte Ansatz Cooney äusserst lobenswert und interessant. Aus diesem Grund ist das Buch vor allem für Aktivistinnen und Aktivisten, die sich mit der Era beitung von effizienten Strategien auseinandersetzen, die Zahl der Veg tarierinnen und Vegetarier zu erhöhen, seh 2.4 Emil Franzinelli, Andre Gamerschlag, die tierbefreier e.V.: Tierbefreiung gien und Methoden der Tierrechtsbew gung 262 S., Münster: Compassion Media, 2014, 15,00 EUR Die Tierrechts ist eine sehr heterogene Bewegung. Dies führt dazu, dass es eine grosse Bandbreite an unterschiedlichen Strategien, Zielen und th oretischem Überbau gibt. Diese verschiedenen Ansichten werden seit vielen Jahren im deutschen Tierrechtsmagazin tiert und dokumentiert. Zum zwanzigjährigen Jubiläum wurde nun ein Sammelband erstellt, in dem wichtige Beiträge der letzten zehn Jahre übersichtlich zusammengestellt wurden. Darin werden die Heterogenität der Bewegung und ihre Kontroversen anschaulich dargestellt. Das drückt sich auch dadurch aus, dass im Buch nicht blo abgedruckt werden, sondern der Fokus auf die Meinungsverschiedenhe ten und unterschiedlichen Standpunkte und Begründungen Das Hauptanliegen des Buches liegt also in der Dokumenta diversen Positionen sowie der Diskurse und Debatten, welche innerhalb der Tierrechtsbewegung geführt werden. Dies soll insbesondere helfen, bereits geführte Debatten vor dem durch soll zum einen erreicht werden, dass die Diskurse innerhalb der Bewegung sich nicht im Kreis drehen. Zum anderen soll aber auch die Wichtigkeit solcher theoretischen Diskussionen verdeutlicht werden, wel Literaturbericht evon rer empfehlenswert. Florian Leonhard Wüstholz – Beiträge zu Profil, Stratee- und Tierbefreiungsbewegung eTIERBEFREIUNG diskuss „anerkannte Positionen" igelegt wird. tion dieser Vergessenwerden zu bewahren. Da- -
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Théorie des cordes, gravité quantique à boucles et éternalisme Baptiste Le Bihan A paraître dans Métaphysique du temps (dir. Alexandre Declos et Claudine Tiercelin), Paris : Collège de France. Traduction par l'auteur de « String Theory, Loop Quantum Gravity and Eternalism » paru dans The European Journal for Philosophy of Science 10, 2020. Résumé : L'éternalisme, la thèse selon laquelle les entités que nous catégorisons comme étant passées, présentes et futures existent tout autant, est la meilleure approche ontologique de l'existence temporelle qui soit en accord avec les théories de la relativité restreinte et de la relativité générale. Cependant, les théories de la relativité restreinte et générale ne sont pas fondamentales si bien que plusieurs programmes de recherche tentent de trouver une théorie plus fondamentale de la gravité quantique rassemblant tous les enseignements de la physique relativiste et de la physique quantique. Certaines de ces approches soutiennent que le temps n'est pas fondamental. Toutefois, si le temps n'est pas fondamental, quelles en sont les conséquences pour l'éternalisme et les débats sur l'existence dans le temps ? Premièrement, je soutiendrai que la non-fondamentalité du temps que l'on rencontre dans la théorie des cordes mène à l'éternalisme standard. Deuxièmement, je soutiendrai que la nonfondamentalité du temps rencontrée dans la gravité quantique à boucles implique l'éternalisme atemporel, à savoir une nouvelle position qui demeure fidèle à l'esprit de l'éternalisme standard. 1. Introduction Plusieurs approches de la gravité quantique suggèrent que l'espace-temps (ou au moins certains de ses attributs centraux) n'est pas fondamental1. L'expression « gravité quantique » désigne la collection des programmes de recherche qui visent à réconcilier la relativité générale avec la physique quantique, nos deux physiques empiriquement confirmées les plus fondamentales à l'heure 1 Pour des références, voir par exemple Huggett et Wüthrich (2013), Matsubara (2017), Le Bihan et Linnemann (2019), Lam et Wüthrich (2018), Baron (2019) et Huggett et Wüthrich (à paraître). 1 actuelle. D'un côté, la relativité générale (désormais RG) est une théorie qui excelle à décrire la gravitation, en particulier aux grandes échelles. D'après l'interprétation standard de RG, la gravitation n'est pas une force mais la manifestation de la géométrie de l'espace-temps. Cependant, RG ne prend en pas compte les effets quantiques et ne peut pas être entièrement combinée à la théorie quantique des champs. D'un autre côté, la théorie quantique des champs excelle dans la description des effets quantiques et des forces fondamentales, en particulier aux très petites échelles. Cependant, elle n'offre pas de description de la gravitation. Par conséquent, nous manquons d'une théorie qui nous offre les ressources pour décrire les phénomènes qui font intervenir à la fois des effets gravitationnels et des effets quantiques~: les trous noirs, les premiers instants après le big bang et la structure de l'espace-temps elle-même2. Bien que ces programmes soient de nature très spéculative, ils sont riches de potentielles répercussions sur les débats classiques en métaphysique. Cet article examine les conséquences possibles de la non-fondamentalité de l'espace-temps, et en particulier du temps – que l'on rencontre dans certaines de ces approches – sur le débat à propos de l'existence dans le temps. L'éternalisme est la thèse selon laquelle les entités passées, présentes et futures existent simpliciter3, le présentisme la thèse que seules les entités présentes existent simpliciter, et le non-futurisme, la thèse que les entités passées et présentes existent simpliciter, contrairement aux entités futures. Je soutiendrai que la nonfondamentalité du temps, si elle devait être avérée, entraînera la vérité de l'éternalisme standard ou d'une nouvelle position : l'éternalisme atemporel, à savoir la thèse que toute partie propre du monde naturel existe simpliciter et que le contenu matériel du monde naturel ne dépend aucunement d'une localisation particulière en son sein4. Ces affirmations à propos de la non-fondamentalité du temps pourraient frapper le lecteur comme étant pour le moins étranges, puisque la thèse selon laquelle les choses existent dans l'espace 2 Cette théorie de la gravité quantique pourrait s'avérer être une théorie finale du tout, mais il ne doit pas nécessairement en aller ainsi. Certains programmes de recherche de la gravité quantique sont très explicites sur le fait qu'ils ne cherchent pas une théorie finale mais, plus modestement, seulement une explication unifiée de la gravité quantique. 3 Cette caractérisation est très approximative. Toute prise en compte sérieuse de la relativité générale impose de définir l'éternalisme sans recourir aux notions de passé, de présent et de futur de la manière suivante : toutes les entités naturelles existent indépendamment de leur localisation dans le réseau de relations spatio-temporelles ou causales. 4 L'expression « éternalisme atemporel » est déjà utilisée dans la philosophie de la religion et réfère à la thèse que Dieu existe au-delà du temps (voir e.g. Morris 1991). J'utiliserai néanmoins cette expression car elle décrit bien le contenu de la thèse ; il semble y avoir peu de risques de confondre les deux thèses. 2 et le temps – ou dans l'espace-temps – s'enracine profondément dans notre appareillage conceptuel. Cette étrangeté, combinée au manque de confirmation empirique de ces programmes de recherche et le fait qu'ils manquent d'une formulation complète, explique pourquoi les métaphysiciens pourraient être (et ont été) tentés de préférer tirer des enseignements philosophiques à partir de la physique contemporaine en se focalisant sur nos théoriques physiques les plus fondamentales qui soient empiriquement confirmées. Cependant, comme le soutient McKenzie (à paraître), une métaphysique naturaliste basée sur cette physique prend le risque d'être complètement erronée puisque RG et la théorie quantique des champs ne décrivent la réalité, au mieux, qu'approximativement5. En réponse au défi de Kerry McKenzie, je propose de déplacer notre attention de la relativité générale et de la théorie quantique des champs et de la reporter sur la gravité quantique. En effet, il me semble que l'argument de McKenzie ne cible pas la métaphysique naturalisée dans son ensemble, mais établit plutôt que la métaphysique naturalisée ne peut pas s'appuyer uniquement sur la physique empiriquement confirmée dans la mesure où cette dernière est constituée de parties non-fondamentales et mutuellement exclusives. La métaphysique ne peut s'appuyer uniquement sur des contraintes philosophiques héritées de deux théories physiques mutuellement exclusives et ignorer les modèles spéculatifs, ou les fragments de théories, qui visent à combiner les deux théories. Toutefois, existe-til un chemin épistémologiquement fiable qui mène de la gravité quantique à la métaphysique~? Après tout, l'existence même d'une pluralité d'approches, et leur manque d'une formulation complète, semble barrer la route à toute réponse directe aux débats métaphysiques tels que ceux à propos de l'existence dans le temps. Il me semble exister deux stratégies prometteuses pour extraire de la connaissance métaphysique à partir de la constellation de programmes de recherche en gravité quantique. La première stratégie, que j'appellerai le chemin épistémologique ambitieux, débute par la réalisation que certaines caractéristiques apparaissent dans toutes les approches standards de la gravité quantique. Cette présence globale offre une justification très forte de certaines affirmations à propos de la nature du monde. Par exemple, dans la mesure où la non-localité6 apparaît dans toutes les théories de la mécanique quantique ainsi que dans les théories quantiques des champs, et dans la mesure où 5 La pertinence de la gravité quantique pour la métaphysique a été notée à plusieurs occasions ; voir par exemple Huggett et Wüthrich (2013), Muntean (2015) et Norton (2017). 6 La non-localité réfère ici à la propriété attribuée aux systèmes physiques en réponse à la violation des inégalités de Bell. 3 la gravité quantique ne fait pas disparaître la non-localité, cette caractéristique du monde hérite d'une justification globale à partir de la physique contemporaine considérée dans sa totalité7. Ou, pour prendre, un autre exemple, le fait qu'on retrouve une séparation locale entre deux structures qui correspondent plus ou moins à l'espace et au temps dans toutes les approches physiques empiriquement confirmées ainsi que dans toutes les approches de la gravité quantique démontre que notre monde peut être séparé localement en une structure spatiale ou quasi-spatiale d'un côté, et en une structure temporelle ou quasi-temporelle de l'autre côté (cf. Le Bihan et Linnemann 2019). On pourrait généraliser la situation en notant, comme le font Rovelli et Vidotto que : Pour autant que nous le sachions aujourd'hui, la nature est entièrement constituée de champs quantiques généralement co-variants. (Rovelli et Vidotto 2014, 19) Saisir exactement l'ontologie qui va avec une description mathématique en termes de champs quantiques généralement co-variants constitue une tâche extrêmement difficile. Je mentionne ce point non pas pour défendre une interprétation ontologique particulière ici, mais seulement pour faire remarquer qu'une étude des programmes de recherche en gravité quantique nous permet de prendre du recul afin d'évaluer quelles parties des révolutions quantique et relativiste vont (au delà d'un doute raisonnable) être préservées dans le futur. Toutefois, il est difficile d'arpenter le chemin épistémologique ambitieux pour ce qui est de la non-fondamentalité du temps. Ainsi que l'écrit Callender : La quête de la gravité quantique se manifeste par deux types de stratégies, qui correspondent à deux types d'attitudes à l'égard du temps. Si l'on est de l'opinion que la révolution quantique fournit les fondements les plus solides ou les plus prometteurs, alors (comme avec la théorie des supercordes), on commence à cette étape avec un temps bien en chair (full-blooded time). Si, au contraire, on pense que la relativité offre le meilleur point de départ, alors (comme avec la gravité quantique à boucles), on commence avec une théorie dans laquelle le temps est déjà rétrogradé en un certain sens. Dans les deux cas, on sait que le produit final sera sensiblement différent de la relativité et de la mécanique quantique, et l'on ne doit pas nécessairement finir là où l'on a 7 Ceci ne nous dit bien sûr pas encore quelle est l'interprétation métaphysique correcte de la non-localité. On pourrait soutenir par exemple qu'elle implique une forme de monisme de la priorité (voir Ismael et Schaffer 2016) ou, alternativement, une forme de cohérentisme telle que défendue par Calosi et Morganti (à paraître). 4 commencé. Néanmoins, ces décisions initiales à propos du temps tendent à avoir de sérieuses ramifications dans la suite du programme. Ce clivage implique qu'il est possible de trouver confirmation d'à peu près n'importe quelle thèse à propos du temps. (Callender 2017, 99) Comme nous allons le voir, bien que la théorie des cordes débute avec un temps bien en chair, il est loin d'aller de soi que la théorie des cordes postulera l'existence de l'espace-temps ou du temps au terme de son voyage : différentes opinions co-habitent sur ce sujet dans la communauté cordiste. Toutefois, et par chance, il existe un autre chemin épistémologique, moins ambitieux, que l'on peut arpenter lorsque l'on souhaite extraire des enseignements ontologiques à partir de la physique contemporaine. Au lieu de cibler les hypothèses communes à l'ensemble des approches de la gravité quantique, il est possible d'examiner les engagements philosophiques spécifiques de l'un ou de plusieurs programmes de recherche, et de songer aux conséquences pour la métaphysique si cette, ou l'une de ces, approche(s) se révèle correcte. Par exemple, en simplifiant, il est possible d'appréhender la disparition de l'espace-temps dans la théorie des cordes comme signifiant au moins la disparition de l'espace, à cause du phénomène de la dualité8 et, peut-être comme nous le verrons plus loin, du temps. Au contraire, d'autres approches suggèrent une ontologie sans temps, qui préserve l'existence de l'espace – comme avec l'ontologie des capsules de temps de Julian Barbour9. Ou il se pourrait bien que l'espace et le temps doivent tous deux sortir de scène, ainsi que le suggère la gravité quantique à boucles, comme nous le verrons plus tard. Cette second stratégie, que j'appellerai le chemin épistémologique modeste délivre uniquement une connaissance conditionnelle~: si la gravité quantique à boucle, ou toute autre approche qui nie la réalité du temps, devait être avérée, alors nous aurions de bonnes raisons de souscrire à certaines thèses métaphysiques. Bien que cette approche puisse sembler un peu décevante, la connaissance conditionnelle demeure de la connaissance et ce projet mérite d'être poursuivi. De plus, la construction d'arrière-plans ontologiques en cohérence avec ces approches pourrait même aider à en clarifier le développement – en effet, l'élucidation des ontologies compatibles avec, ou même suggérées par, la gravité quantique, demeure l'objet de recherches présentes10. 8 Voir par exemple Huggett (2017), Matsubara (2017, 3-4), Le Bihan et Read (2018) et Butterfield (à paraître). 9 Voir Barbour (2001) et Butterfield (2002), Healey (2002), Baron, Evans et Miller (2010), Le Bihan (2015b) pour une discussion philosophique. 10 La question de la détermination des liens qu'entretient la gravité quantique avec l'existence dans le temps n'est pas nouvelle. Monton (2006) en reconnaissant que le présentisme n'est pas compatible avec la relativité restreinte a soutenu que le présentisme pourrait en principe être réhabilité dans le cadre d'une théorie de la gravité quantique ; 5 Dans la section 2, j'introduirai le débat à propos de l'existence dans le temps. Dans les sections 3 et 4, je présenterai la non-fondamentalité du temps telle qu'on la rencontre dans deux approches de la gravité quantique, à savoir la théorie des champs bidimensionnels – qui est une approche de la théorie des cordes – et la gravité quantique à boucles. Dans la section 5, je soutiendrai que cette non-fondamentalité implique l'éternalisme. Dans la section 6, je présenterai plusieurs interprétations métaphysiques de l'affirmation que le temps disparaît au niveau fondamental, certaines interprétations réalistes semblant offrir, a priori, une possibilité d'échapper à l'éternalisme. Dans la section 7, toutefois, j'examinerai les conséquences de ces interprétations réalistes sur le débat et soutiendrai qu'elles impliquent aussi l'éternalisme. En conclusion, je conclurai que toutes les interprétations philosophiques de la non-fondamentalité du temps impliquent une forme d'éternalisme. 2. Présentisme, non-futurisme, éternalisme Selon les présentistes, les entités présentes possèdent le privilège ontologique de l'existence~: les entités passées et futures n'existent pas simpliciter (voir e.g. Bigelow 1996, Markosian 2004 et Bourne 2006). Pour les éternalistes (voir e.g. Smart1963, Mellor 1998 et Sider 2001), les entités passées, présentes et futures existent simpliciter. Le non-futurisme – également appelé « passéprésentisme » ou « théorie de l'univers-bloc en croissance » (lors-qu'on l'examine en conjonction avec une approche réaliste de l'écoulement du temps, des faits tensés ou d'une autre catégorie d'entités transmettant l'idée d'un devenir primitif et d'un changement dans le contenu matériel de la réalité en fonction du temps de référence) – soutient que les entités passées et présentes, contrairement aux entités futures, existent simpliciter (voir e.g. Broad 1923, Tooley 2000 et Button 2006, 2007)11. L'expression simpliciter est ici pour montrer que la plupart de ceux qui acceptent la une idée critiquée par Wüthrich (2010). Les raisons de penser que Wüthrich a raison contre Monton sont à mon sens décisives. Mon objectif dans ce travail est, en partant de ce point, de discuter de l'éternalisme et de la manière de le concilier avec la possible non-fondamentalité du temps. 11 Je réalise que la manière par laquelle j'introduis ces différentes thèses pourra sembler problématique à certains lecteurs. D'un côté, le philosophe de la physique peut prendre ombrage du fait que cette dernière ne prend pas en compte ce que nous avons appris de la relativité générale, à savoir que nous devons éviter toute référence à des entités passées, présentes ou futures, en utilisant à la place les notions d'antériorité et de postériorité dans un cadre de référence pour définir l'éternalisme. D'un autre côté, le métaphysicien peut faire remarquer qu'il est possible d'appréhender le problème différemment, par exemple en évitant d'user de la notion d'existence simpliciter. Voir e.g. Crisp (2004) et Deasy (2017) pour une discussion de ce point. Toutefois, la classification un peu old-school que 6 pertinence du débat font appel à la notion d'existence simpliciter, bien distincte de la notion d'existence à un instant. Par exemple, le platonisme à propos des entités mathématiques, à savoir la thèse selon laquelle les entités mathématiques existent, est habituellement appréhendée comme la thèse que les entités mathématiques existent simpliciter – et non avec une localisation temporelle particulière ou à chaque instant. Le débat à propos de l'existence dans le temps, de la même manière, débute avec l'hypothèse qu'il est censé de s'interroger sur le fait de savoir si les entités passées et futures existent simpliciter ou non. Il est important de noter ici que tous les participants de ce débat s'accordent sur le fait que les entités passées n'existent plus et que les entités futures n'existent pas encore. Ce sur quoi ils sont en désaccord est le fait de savoir si nous devons inférer de l'affirmation que les entités passées n'existent plus qu'elles n'existent pas simpliciter ou si, au contraire, nous devons conclure que les entités passées existent bel et bien simpliciter, avec une localisation temporelle distincte de celle du présent (de même pour les entités futures)12. L'éternalisme et le présentisme ont des avantages et des inconvénients symétriques. L'éternaliste peut aisément rendre compte des vérifacteurs des énoncés à propos du passé. Certaines parties de l'espace-temps, appréhendées au sens large de façon à y inclure leurs contenus matériels, agissent comme les vérifacteurs de ces énoncés. Par exemple, si j'énonce « hier, j'étais à Chicago », cet énoncé est vrai car il existe une partie spatio-temporelle de la réalité – le volume de l'espacetemps qui correspond à la journée d'hier à Chicago – qui le rend vrai. Toutefois, il semble difficile pour l'éternaliste de rendre compte de l'intuition que les faits futurs contingents ne sont pas fixés. En effet, en soutenant que les entités futures existent, nous devons faire face à une menace de déterminisme existentiel~: si le contenu matériel de l'espace-temps à la date de demain (i.e., dans un cadre relativiste, quelques heures en avant dans le cône de lumière futur) est déjà là, signifiant qu'il existe là-bas dans le futur relativement à ici, la contingence de ces événements semble perdue. Par exemple, si j'affirme que « demain, je serai à Oxford », cet énoncé est déjà vrai maintenant, puisque le fait qui le rend vrai s'enracine dans une partie de l'espace-temps13. Les présentistes rencontrent des difficultés et des points positifs symétriques~: ils peuvent expliquer pourquoi les faits futurs contingents ne sont pas fixés en soulignant que le futur n'existe pas. Toutefois, ils sont en difficulté j'utilise ici est utile pour introduire, en première approche, la manière intuitive d'appréhender ces théories. 12 Certains philosophes de la physique tels que Dorato (2006) ont soutenu ou examiné la thèse selon laquelle ce débat manque de substance. A la suite de Wüthrich (2012), je tiendrai pour acquis dans le cadre de ce travail que l'existence temporelle est un sujet important et substantiel qui mérite d'être exploré plus en avant. 13 Voir Le Bihan (2015a, 2019) toutefois pour une défense de la thèse de la compatibilité de l'éternalisme avec l'ouverture du futur. 7 en ce qui concerne les vérifacteurs des énoncés à propos du passé car le passé n'existe pas simpliciter. Pour ce qui est de ses avantages, le présentiste peut aisément rendre compte du fait que l'énoncé « demain je serai à Oxford » n'a pas encore de valeur de vérité~: cet énoncé n'a tout simplement pas de vérifacteur. Il rend ainsi compte de nos intuitions ordinaires que le futur n'est pas (au moins complètement) fixé. Pour ce qui est de ses inconvénients, en refusant l'existence du monde à la date de demain, les énoncés du type « hier j'étais à Chicago » sont menacés de perdre leur vérité, et le passé se voit menacé de perdre son caractère fixé. Lorsqu'on en vient à la relativité, il est important de noter que plusieurs tentatives de réconciliation du présentisme avec la relativité restreinte et/ou générale ont été proposées, telles que la ré-interprétation néo-lorentzienne de la relativité restreinte (Craig 2001), l'approche fragmentaliste de la relativité restreinte (Fine 2005) et des approches utilisant la cosmologie ou la gravité quantique pour ressusciter une foliation objective de l'espace-temps (Monton 2006). Cependant, elles échouent toutes pour diverses raisons que je ne peux pas synthétiser ici. Pour une présentation générale, et pourquoi « tout présentisme qui demeure compatible avec les faits empiriques et notre meilleure physique est métaphysiquement répugnant », voir Wüthrich (2013). Pour une explication de pourquoi le paramètre appelé « temps cosmologique » que l'on trouve dans le modèle standard de la cosmologie du big bang, basée sur la relativité générale, n'aide pas à ressusciter une stratification globale de l'espace-temps sur laquelle le présentiste puisse s'appuyer, voir Wüthrich (2013) et Smeenk (2013)14. Le non-futurisme pourrait apparaître comme une troisième voie attrayante. En postulant que les entités passées et présentes – contrairement aux entités futures – existent, le non-futurisme pourrait, prima facie, hériter des avantages à la fois de l'éternalisme et du présentisme, tout en échappant à leurs problèmes respectifs. Il est vrai qu'hier je me trouvais à Chicago car la partie de l'espace-temps correspondant à la date d'hier existe simpliciter et m'inclut (ou disons, inclut l'une de mes contreparties temporelles, ou encore l'une de mes parties temporelles). Au contraire, le fait que je serai à Oxford demain n'est pas fixé car il n'existe rien de tel qu'un volume de l'espace-temps qui corresponde à la date de demain et incluant le contenu matériel requis. Malheureusement, le nonfuturisme entre en conflit avec la relativité générale de la même manière que le présentisme. Le nonfuturisme a besoin d'une tranche objective de l'espace-temps qui corresponde à la bordure de l'être. 14 Une autre option radicale est de remplacer RG par une autre théorie qui lui soit empiriquement équivalente dans son secteur pertinent de solutions – à savoir l'ensemble des solutions à même de décrire le monde actuel – et qui s'appuie sur une ontologie différente. On trouve cette approche à l'oeuvre avec la dynamique des formes (shape dynamics) (voir e.g. Gomes et al. 2011). 8 Toutefois, d'après la relativité générale, cette foliation de l'espace-temps en couches spatiales n'existe tout simplement pas. La prochaine section aura pour objet la possible disparition du temps au sein des deux principales approches de la gravité quantique : la théorie des cordes et la gravité quantique à boucles. 3. Le temps dans la théorie des cordes Le statut du temps dans l'approche la plus populaire de la gravité quantique, à savoir la théorie des cordes (TC désormais) ne va pas de soi. En effet, il existe une interprétation ontologique influente qui rejette l'existence du temps – et, en cela, bien que TC soit généralement formulée à l'aide d'un « temps bien en chair », pour utiliser l'expression de Callender, le temps peut être appréhendé comme une béquille théorique que l'on peut abandonner une fois arrivé à destination. D'après cette ontologie de champs bidimensionnels, adoptée par l'un des cordistes les plus influents, Ewdard Witten, l'espace-temps – incluant ses aspects spatiaux et temporels – n'existe pas (voir Witten 1996, ré-imprimé dans Callender et Huggett 2001 et Huggett, Vistarini et Wüthrich 2013, section 3, Huggett 2015 et Baker 2016, section 4.2 pour un traitement philosophique). Witten écrit ainsi~: ... On n'a plus vraiment besoin de l'espace-temps ; on a simplement besoin d'une théorie de champs bidimensionnels décrivant la propagation des cordes. Et, peut-être en allant encore plus loin, on n'a plus d'espace-temps, si ce n'est dans la mesure où l'on peut l'extraire d'une théorie de champs bidimensionnels. (Witten 1996, 28) Alors, que sont ces champs bidimensionnels exactement~? Afin de le comprendre, commençons par esquisser l'image ontologique à l'oeuvre dans TC15. Les cordes sont des entités spatiales à une dimension qui persistent dans le temps, si bien qu'il est possible d'appréhender toute corde perdurante (i.e. étalée dans le temps) comme une feuille de monde bidimensionnelle16. On peut alors définir un espace-temps interne – qui correspond à la feuille 15 Pour le philosophe aux compétences techniques~: je commence par esquisser la théorie perturbative des supercordes – je ferai ensuite un certain nombre de commentaires à propos de ce que l'on est en droit d'attendre, ontologiquement parlant, d'une théorie M non-perturbative. 16 L'ontologie de TC inclut aussi parfois des branes, c'est-à-dire des entités à n dimensions étendues dans le temps, et donnant lieu à des géométries à n+1 dimensions. Dans cette approche des champs bidimensionnels, les branes ne font pas parties des briques méréologiques qui construisent le monde. 9 de monde bidimensionnelle balayée par les cordes – vivant dans un espace-temps d'arrière-plan à dix dimensions. En fonction de la manière que l'on a d'appréhender le problème de la mesure et la notion de superposition quantique au niveau de la feuille de monde, on peut accoucher d'une ontologie avec des espace-temps internes superposés (en souscrivant à une approche des mondes multiples de cette superposition), requérant une connexion entre une multiplicité et une singularité – entre les feuilles de monde fondamentales et un seul et unique espace-temps relativiste émergeant – ou une connexion entre une multiplicité et une autre multiplicité – entre une superposition quantique de feuilles de monde et une superposition quantique d'espaces-temps relativistes. Ceci dépend du rôle joué par l'émergence dans l'analyse de la transition du quantique au classique, et de l'analyse même qui est donnée de la superposition17. Chaque corde possède quelques propriétés. Certaines de ces propriétés, les vibrations, correspondent à des particules physiques. Notons qu'à cette étape nous avons deux structures qui pourraient être appelées « espace » ou « espace-temps » au sein de l'ontologie de TC~: l'espace-temps interne bidimensionnel associé à la collection de cordes fissionnant et fusionnant et l'espace-temps d'arrière-plan à dix dimensions que les cordes habitent. On peut désormais se poser la question de savoir laquelle de ces deux structures, pour peu qu'il y en ait une, correspond à l'espace-temps de RG et, par extension, à l'espace et au temps tels que nous les expérimentons quotidiennement – dans la mesure où l'espace et le temps tels que nous les percevons ordinairement peuvent se voir appréhendés comme des abstractions locales à partir de l'espace-temps RG. Dans le but de simplifier la discussion, il est utile à la suite de Huggett (2017) et d'un usage particulier au sein de la communauté de la philosophie de la gravité quantique, de référer à la conjonction de l'espace-temps RG et de l'espace et du temps ordinaires comme à l'espace-temps « phénoménal » – qui ne doit en aucune façon être identifié à l'espace et au temps phénoménologiques tel qu'on les entend habituellement dans la communauté philosophique plus large, à savoir à l'espace et au temps tels que nous les expérimentons ordinairement. La question primordiale pour le métaphysicien du temps est alors la suivante : devons-nous identifier l'espace-temps phénoménal avec l'espace-temps interne, avec l'espace-temps d'arrière plan, ou avec aucune de ces deux structures~? En d'autres termes, quelle est la structure pertinente dans l'ontologie de TC pour aborder les questions métaphysiques à propos de la nature du temps~? 17 De plus, on peut s'interroger : cette image a-t-elle du sens dans le cas où les cordes n'interagissent pas menant, semble-t-il, à l'existence d'une pluralité d'espaces-temps internes déconnectés ? Ce point été mentionné par Keizo Matsubara, d'après Baker (2016, 10). Il s'agit d'un problème intéressant pour l'approche bidimensionnelle ; toutefois, celui-ci n'est pas nécessairement rédhibitoire. En effet, il pourrait très bien être le cas que le monde actuel est constitué d'îles causalement déconnectées (voir e.g. Bricker 2001). 10 Considérons la réponse peut-être la plus évidente à cette questioñ: l'espace-temps phénoménal est l'espace-temps d'arrière-plan d'une manière telle que la théorie des cordes se contente d'énoncer que l'espace-temps physique est constitué de dix, et non de quatre, dimensions, l'une de ces dimensions étant le temps. S'il devait en aller ainsi, alors TC ne nous dirait rien de plus que RG à propos du temps. Toutefois, il existe une symétrie profonde dans les descriptions des espaces d'arrière-plan, les dénommés « espaces cibles » – à savoir la dualité T – qui rend les espaces d'arrière-plan avec différent rayons de compactification physiquement équivalents. Une interprétation naturelle du coeur commun des descriptions duales18 mène alors à l'affirmation selon laquelle cette structure n'est pas identique à l'espace-temps phénoménal, qui ne possède pas de rayon de compactification déterminé. Cette dualité T semble impliquer que l'espace d'arrière-plan n'est pas réel et constitue un piètre candidat pour jouer le rôle de l'espace phénoménal. Toutefois, cette dualité qualifie l'espace d'arrière-plan et non le temps d'arrière-plan – donc, d'après cette approche le temps demeure fondamental et le problème ne se pose que pour l'émergence de l'espace-temps RG à partir de l'espace d'arrière-plan. Qu'en est-il de de l'espace-temps interne~? Est-il possible, au sein de ce schéma, d'identifier le temps avec le temps interne de la feuille de monde~? Il s'agit de l'approche des champs bidimensionnels~: les feuilles de monde, qui interagissent et composent la feuille de monde globale et complexe, sont appréhendées comme les briques de construction du monde physique. Au lieu d'aborder les cordes comme des entités qui évoluent à l'intérieur de l'espace-temps d'arrière-plan, dans ce schéma, la dénommée structure d'arrière-plan est appréhendée non pas comme l'espacetemps, mais comme un champ de vecteurs à dix dimensions vivant à la surface de la feuille de monde bidimensionnelle (pour une présentation plus technique, voir Huggett, Vistarini et Wüthrich 2013, 251-252). Le monde serait littéralement constitué de deux dimensions au niveau fondamental, d'une manière telle que la plupart de la complexité que nous observons à notre échelle émergerait des fluctuations très complexes de champs localisés à la surface de la feuille de monde. Quelles sont alors les conséquences pour la nature du temps si l'espace-temps interne est la structure la plus proche de l'espace-temps phénoménal~? Comme l'expliquent Huggett, Vistarini et Wüthrich (2013, section 3), ce temps interne obéit à une symétrie conforme et donc, à une invariance d'échelle~: les attributions de durées entre des points à l'intérieur de la feuille de monde sont des quantités qui peuvent être choisies arbitrairement, sans produire la moindre différence physique dans la feuille de 18 Il existe d'autres interprétations ontologiques de la dualité (voir e.g. Le Bihan et Read 2018). Toutefois ce qui importe ici c'est que, comme l'indique Huggett (2017), ces interprétations tiennent généralement pour acquis que nous n'avons aucune raison d'identifier l'espace-temps RG avec une seule et unique structure d'arrière-plan, barrant la route à toute identification de l'espace-temps RG avec n'importe laquelle des structures d'arrière-plan. 11 monde19. Ceci implique que, bien que l'ordre spatio-temporel demeure présent dans ce schéma, il n'existe aucun état de chose à propos de distances temporelles définies (à savoir des durées) connectant des couples d'événements (i.e. des points de la feuille de monde)20. 4. Le temps dans la gravité quantique à boucles Tournons-nous maintenant vers la gravité quantique à boucles (GQB ci-dessous), l'un des programmes de recherche les plus prometteurs qui nient l'existence fondamentale du temps. D'après QGB, ce qui existe en lieu et place de l'espace-temps ce sont des entités (ou une structure) décrites par des « réseaux de spin » – à savoir, des collections de noeuds et de relations (les boucles) existant centre ces noeuds (voir Rovelli 2004 et Rovelli et Vidotto 2014; pour un résumé philosophique destiné aux philosophes, cf. Huggett et Wüthrich 2013, 279-280). Ces représentations 3D de réseaux de spin peuvent être remplacées par des représentations 4D appelées « mousses de spin » lorsqu'on applique une évolution aux réseaux de spin. Une conjecture est que les mousses de spin ressemblent suffisamment à l'espace-temps RG pour rendre compte du succès empirique de RG. Les mousses de spin décrivent des volumes et des aires possédant des valeurs discrètes. Une question qui se pose alors est de savoir quelle est la nature de la relation entre ces structures discrètes et la structure continue RG. Toutefois, il ne s'agit pas du point le plus essentiel. Le point crucial est que cette description de la structure à l'aide d'entités géométriques discrètes ne doit pas être confondue avec la structure fondamentale du monde ; celle-ci doit plutôt être appréhendée comme une manière utile de la représenter et de gérer ses états quantiques (cf. Rovelli et Vidotto 2014 et la discussion par Wüthrich 2017 et Healey à paraître, section 3). L'ontologie sous-jacente est appréhendée comme n'incluant pas l'espace-temps (discret ou non)21. Il me parait juste d'affirmer, à la suite de Healey (à paraître), qu'à l'heure actuelle il n'existe aucun consensus parmi les physiciens à propos de le nature ontologique de la structure GQB cachée 19 De manière plus technique~: « l'action demeure invariante suite à tout re-dimensionnement local et arbitraire de la métrique des cordes » (Huggett, Vistarini et Wüthrich 2013, 254). 20 On pourrait soulever l'objection que le développement d'une théorie des cordes non-perturbative pourrait remettre en cause le fait que l'approche des champs bidimensionnels est une ontologie naturelle de TC. C'est tout à fait juste. Toutefois, premièrement nous ne disposons pas d'une telle théorie à l'heure actuelle et, deuxièmement, la théorie M pourrait demeurer compatible avec une ontologie bidimensionnelle, dans la mesure où cette dernière, après tout, est supposée servir d'approximation à la théorie M. Pour ces deux raisons, les conséquences ontologiques de l'approche bidimensionnelle méritent d'être examinées. 21 Voir Norton (2015). 12 derrière la structure mathématique de mousse de spin. Il est possible de distinguer deux approches afin de rendre compte de cette structure fondamentale. De deux choses l'une~: ou bien cette structure fondamentale possède suffisamment de structure spatio-temporelle pour se voir décrite comme un quasi-espace-temps, ou bien ce n'est pas le cas. Dans le cadre de la première option, la structure fondamentale est un « quasi-espace-temps » qui est très différent de l'espace-temps ordinaire – à savoir l'espace-temps tel qu'on le théorise à l'aide de RG. Toutefois, cette structure possède également un certain degré de similarité avec l'espace-temps ordinaire, phénoménal, en partageant des propriétés avec l'espace-temps RG (par exemple en étant fait de relations physiques concrètes organisées en réseau). Ainsi dans cette approche, cette structure partage le profil métaphysique de l'espace-temps RG en appartenant à la catégorie générale des « espace-temps physiques ». Dans le cadre de la seconde option, la structure GQB doit plutôt être appréhendée en des termes purement algébriques. Cette approche implique qu'il est impossible de rendre compte de la structure GQB à l'aide des catégories métaphysiques habituellement d'usage pour concevoir le monde spatio-temporel naturel (relations, propriétés, événements, etc.) et que le contenu de cette boîte noire ne devrait pas être analysé à l'aide de ces catégories métaphysiques. Il est important de réaliser ici que, indépendamment de la manière que nous avons de concevoir le statut de la structure fondamentale, l'organisation de la structure GQB ne correspond pas systématiquement à la structure spatio-temporelle qui ordonne les événements, telle que décrite par RG~: en effet, dans certains modèles de GQB, certaines relations d'adjacence dans la structure GQB correspondent à des relations de longue distance spatio-temporelle au sein de la structure RG. Voir e.g. Markopoulou et Smolin (2007) et Huggett et Wüthrich (2013, 279-280) pour une discussion philosophique22. Ceci implique en particulier qu'il arrive parfois que ce que nous appréhendons comme de longues distances temporelles dans RG correspond en fait à des relations d'adjacence dans GQB. Et il est important de voir que ce point est vrai indépendamment de l'attitude adoptée à l'égard de la nature de la structure fondamentale. Ce qui importe ici ce n'est pas le fait de savoir si la boîte noire est « métaphysiquement vide », en étant uniquement décrite par des mathématiques algébriques, ou s'il est possible d'attribuer une structure métaphysique interne à cette structure 22 Cette localité désordonnée demeure quelque peu spéculative pour deux raisons. Premièrement, la localité désordonnée s'applique à l'espace, dans certains modèles. Il est raisonnable de s'attendre à ce qu'elle s'applique également aux événements séparés par un intervalle de genre temps, mais il s'agit d'une conjecture. Deuxièmement, puisque nous n'avons pas de théorie GQB entièrement développée, il est impossible d'exclure la possibilité que la localité désordonnée en général soit la manifestation d'un artefact mathématique, la vidant ainsi de son contenu physique. 13 physique en termes de relations et de noeuds, par exemple. Ce qui importe est que la manière par laquelle nous devons attribuer des états quantiques à la boîte noire – indépendamment de ce qui existe dans la boîte noire – dévie du système de localité décrit dans RG. Donc, ce n'est pas seulement la transition d'une structure discrète (dans GQB) à une structure continue (dans RG), ou la transition du quantique au classique, qui est mise en question par la non-existence d'un temps fondamental dans GQB. L'existence même d'un ordre partiel des événements tel qu'on l'observe dans la vie quotidienne, et tel qu'on le conceptualise avec RG, pourrait être une simple approximation à notre échelle de ce qui est réellement le cas. 5. Les conséquences pour l'existence dans le temps Par conséquent, si des travaux ultérieurs venaient à nous montrer que la bonne interprétation ontologique de TC n'inclut pas le temps, nous nous retrouverons dans une situation où les deux approches les plus populaires de la gravité quantique affirment que le temps est absent de notre description la plus fondamentale du monde naturel. Cela nous donnerait des indices solides en faveur de la non-fondamentalité du temps conformément à la voie épistémologique ambitieuse que j'ai mentionnée dans l'introduction. Je ne prendrai cependant pas position sur ce point ; dans le cadre de cet article, je me contenterai de souligner, en adoptant la voie épistémologique modeste, que certaines approches de la gravité quantique impliquent la non-fondamentalité du temps. Cette négation de l'ordre partiel des événements dans GQB, et de la durée dans l'approche 2D de TC, est plus radicale que ce que l'on trouve habituellement dans la littérature philosophique récente. En effet, dans la littérature métaphysique et phénoménologique, il est assez courant de soutenir que le temps ne s'écoule pas (la théorie B relativement standard), et que la notion de flux correspond à un artefact perceptif ou linguistique (voir par exemple Paul 2010, Benovsky 2015 et Frischhut 2015). De plus, il est parfois avancé que le temps ne possède pas de direction intrinsèque (la théorie C selon laquelle la dimension temporelle n'est faite que de relations non orientées). Dans un cadre relativiste, ces affirmations reviennent respectivement à affirmer que l'espace-temps ne s'écoule pas le long d'une direction temporelle, ou que l'espace-temps ne possède pas de direction intrinsèque. Toutefois, il est presque universellement admis que, bien que l'espace-temps soit moins temporel que ce que l'on pense généralement, il existe une scission locale entre l'espace et le temps dans le monde actuel (voir par exemple Callender 2017, chapitre 6)23. 23 Pour tout volume quadridimensionnel dans l'espace-temps, la dimension temporelle diffère des trois dimensions spatiales en ce qui concerne plusieurs caractéristiques. Pour donner un exemple simple, RG correspond localement à 14 Comment la non-fondamentalité du temps, dans les contextes GQB et TC, se compare-t-elle à ces affirmations métaphysiques à l'encontre de l'existence de certaines caractéristiques habituellement attribuées au temps ? Ces approches ne se concentrent pas sur des propriétés dispensables appartenant à la conception riche du temps telles que l'écoulement et la directionnalité intrinsèque, mais sur des propriétés centrales du temps : l'ordre et les distances temporelles. Toutefois, ces attaques sur les propriétés centrales du temps ne sont pas aussi radicales qu'elles pourraient l'être car ces approches préservent une distinction entre les structures quasi-spatiales et quasi-temporelles, à savoir une scission locale entre le quasi-espace et le quasi-temps, comme dans RG (voir Le Bihan et Linnemann 2019, section 3.2). Cette situation conduit à un verdict subtil : les deux approches les plus prometteuses de la gravité quantique impliquent la non-fondamentalité du temps si la durée et/ ou l'ordre partiel des événements décrit par RG sont considérés comme des propriétés essentielles du temps ou, en d'autres termes, comme des conditions nécessaires à l'existence du temps. Cependant, si la seule condition nécessaire pour que le temps existe est la possibilité de distinguer localement dans la structure un ensemble de directions spéciales, alors GQB et l'approche des champs bidimensionnels de TC n'impliquent pas la non-fondamentalité du temps. A la suite de Le Bihan (2015b), je supposerai que cette question est une simple question linguistique, et je me concentrerai sur une question plus substantielle~: dans les deux cas en question, avons-nous suffisamment de temps pour formuler les thèses classiques à propos de l'existence dans le temps~? Dans le contexte de GQB, la localité désordonnée entre en conflit avec le présentisme, le non-futurisme et, nous le verrons, requiert une compréhension particulière de l'éternalisme. Le présentisme et le non-futurisme reposent sur l'idée d'une séparation globale entre trois zones de réalité : le passé, le présent et l'avenir. En RG, cette séparation globale doit être imposée sur le modèle, qui n'offre en lui-même aucune raison de croire qu'il en existe une telle chose. Toutefois, admettons qu'il en soit ainsi pour les besoins de l'argumentation. Disons que [a ,b , c, d, e] est un ensemble ordonné d'événements séparés par un intervalle de genre temps, reliés de manière causale par une ligne d'univers dans la description RG et que GQB décrit ces entités comme~: a', b', c', d' et e'. Supposons maintenant que nous soyons localisés à c et qu'il existe une foliation objective la description donnée par la relativité restreinte, en ce sens que l'on peut toujours choisir un système de coordonnées local tel qu'à son origine~: (1) la métrique prend la forme de la métrique de Minkowski, et (2) les équations dynamiques la matière restent invariantes sous les transformations de Lorentz. Cela signifie également que la structure hérite de la scission propre à la relativité restreinte, au moins localement. Mais notez que notre monde actuel distingue l'espace et le temps de diverses façons, apparemment logiquement indépendantes : Callender nomme cette caractéristique la « fragmentation du temps » (Callender 2017, chap. 6). 15 sélectionnant une tranche spéciale de l'espace-temps incluant c. Cette foliation imposée au niveau macroscopique apparaîtra dans la description fondamentale du GQB comme étant en conflit avec la localité désordonnée. Par exemple, bien que l'événement b soit causalement avant c, et que l'événement d soit causalement après c dans la description de RG, la localité désordonnée implique qu'il arrive parfois dans la description du GQB que c' ne soit pas entre b' et d' (en raison de l'existence d'un ordre différent, et en excluant le cas des événements séparés par un intervalle de genre espace). Par conséquent, la foliation macroscopique utilisée pour distinguer les zones objectives passées, présentes et futures de l'espace-temps macroscopique ne peut être qu'une approximation statistique, obtenue en négligeant les localités désordonnées. Mais si la foliation macroscopique est une approximation statistique, alors il semble invraisemblable qu'elle puisse décrire les articulations de la nature. Il s'agit là d'un problème pour le présentisme et le non-futurisme car l'existence d'une foliation macroscopique permettant de décrire les articulations de la nature est une condition préalable nécessaire pour définir ces vues. Qu'en est-il de l'éternalisme ? Comme l'éternalisme n'a pas besoin de s'appuyer sur une véritable séparation métaphysique entre le passé, le présent et le futur (c'est-à-dire sur une théorie A), il peut éviter ce problème. Cependant, même la théorie B éternaliste – à savoir, la théorie selon laquelle toutes les choses naturelles existent indépendamment de leur emplacement dans le réseau de relations spatio-temporelles ou causales – est menacée dans une certaine mesure par la localité désordonnée : si l'ordre causal des événements, qui fait partie de l'ontologie selon la théorie B, n'est qu'une approximation statistique, alors la structure causale fondamentale du monde quadridimensionnel émerge et ne peut pas être utilisée pour définir l'éternalisme. Par conséquent, la localité désordonnée exige d'adopter un autre point de vue sur l'existence simpliciter dans le monde naturel. J'appelle cette thèse « éternalisme atemporel »~: toutes les parties du monde naturel existent simpliciter et le contenu matériel du monde naturel ne dépend pas d'un endroit particulier. On pourrait songer que cette thèse de l'atemporalité, qui découle de la localité désordonnée, ressemble à l'éternalisme standard en ce qui concerne l'existence – et elle lui ressemble en effet beaucoup. En fait, l'intérêt de développer une thèse appelée « éternalisme atemporel » est de clarifier le fait que l'éternalisme n'est que superficiellement lié à l'existence du temps. Ce qui importe avec l'éternalisme, ce n'est pas que toutes les choses existent de manière égale dans le temps, mais plutôt que toutes les choses qui font partie du monde naturel existent de manière égale. Cet éternalisme de base peut alors être complété par l'idée que le système de localisation qui nous permet de cibler différentes parties du monde naturel devrait être formulé en termes de temps ou d'espace-temps dans un cadre spatio-temporaliste – ou, au contraire, dans une ontologie non-spatio16 temporaliste, avec un système de localisation non-spatio-temporel. En effet, la question de savoir si l'éternalisme « atemporel » est ou non un éternalisme standard bien conçu est une affaire de terminologie qui peut recevoir diverses réponses raisonnables. Ce qui importe ici, c'est que cette nouvelle approche de l'éternalisme – indépendamment du fait que l'on veuille le classer comme une forme d'éternalisme standard ou comme un nouveau type d'éternalisme – est plus radicale en préservant l'idée fondamentale qui sous-tend l'éternalisme, à savoir que l'existence n'est pas limitée à notre environnement spatio-temporel immédiat24, sans s'engager davantage dans l'affirmation selon laquelle il existe un moyen, soit dans les termes de la théorie A, soit dans les termes de la théorie B, de découper d'une manière qui ne soit pas approximative le cosmos quadridimensionnel en hypersurfaces 3D. En d'autres termes, selon l'éternalisme atemporel, toute entité physique, indépendamment de son emplacement dans la structure fondamentale, existe simpliciter et ne dépend pas pour son existence d'un point de référence particulier dans la structure. Il n'y a pas de changement dans le contenu matériel de la réalité parce qu'il n'y a pas de temps objectif, et la réalité – prise dans son ensemble – ne change pas. Comparons cela à l'éternalisme standard~: par rapport à n'importe quel temps t, toutes les autres entités situées dans le temps à d'autres instants existent simpliciter – puisque l'existence simpliciter ne dépend pas de l'emplacement temporel dans la structure temporelle. Ou, dans un cadre relativiste, par rapport à toute partie de l'espace-temps, toutes les autres parties de l'espace-temps, y compris leur contenu matériel, existent simpliciter. Dans l'éternalisme standard, on trouve une référence au temps – ne serait-ce que pour prétendre que cette référence ne contraint pas ce qui existe – alors que dans l'éternalisme atemporel, une telle référence fait défaut. Toutefois il est important de noter que les deux points de vue s'accordent à dire que la portée de l'existence simpliciter ne dépend d'aucun point de vue dans la structure (temporelle ou atemporelle)~: l'existence n'est pas une affaire locale. En d'autres termes, indépendamment de l'emplacement de référence dans la structure non-spatio-temporelle, l'étendue de ce qui existe portera sur la totalité des entités physiques existant dans la structure physique ou constituant celle-ci. En tant que tel, l'éternalisme atemporel est fidèle à l'esprit de l'éternalisme standard, en rejetant la possibilité de 24 Le lecteur pourrait objecter que cette expression d'« environnement » n'a pas de sens dans ce contexte. Toutefois, s'il en va ainsi alors cela renforce le fait que nous n'avons pas affaire ici à un éternalisme standard. En outre, le sens de cette expression dépend de la question de savoir si la structure fondamentale GQB doit être identifiée à un quasiespace ou non. S'il s'agit d'un quasi-espace, alors il devrait en principe être possible pour cette structure d'avoir suffisamment de caractéristiques géométriques pour utiliser des prédicats quasi-spatiaux significatifs modelés sur des prédicats spatiaux. 17 distinguer localement (en termes de théorie A ou de théorie B) les zones de temps, mais va plus loin dans la négation des termes classiques du débat. En affirmant que les deux approches les plus prometteuses de la gravité quantique impliquent la non-fondamentalité du temps et donc, comme nous venons de le voir, l'éternalisme (standard ou atemporel), nous pouvons conclure en suivant le chemin épistémologique modéré que nous disposons de preuves substantielles, mais pas absolues, en faveur de la vérité d'une sorte d'éternalisme25. 6. Eliminativisme, réductionnisme et la thèse du temps dérivé Passons maintenant à la question de savoir ce que signifie le fait que le temps (c'est-à-dire, selon le contexte, la durée ou l'ordre temporel) n'existe pas fondamentalement. En effet, on peut avancer que si le présentisme, le non-futurisme et l'éternalisme standard ne s'appliquent pas au niveau fondamental de description, il se peut néanmoins, selon certaines hypothèses, que ces thèses décrivent correctement le monde à d'autres échelles de description. Afin d'examiner cette possibilité, je distinguerai entre trois conceptions de la non-fondamentalité du temps. Les trois interprétations suivent de près une classification avancée par Le Bihan (2018a, b), Le Bihan et Linnemann (2019) et Le Bihan (à paraître~a) sur la non-fondamentalité de l'espace-temps. Comme nous allons le voir, cette classification se révèle tout aussi utile pour aborder le cas de la non-fondamentalité du temps. 25 L'approche peut-être la plus célèbre de la gravité quantique qui, selon certains, est cohérente avec – ou même suggère – une interprétation de l'univers-bloc en croissance est la théorie des ensembles causaux (voir par exemple Rideout et Sorkin 1999, Dowker 2006, Dowker 2014 et Earman 2008, Huggett 2014, Wüthrich 2012b, 2016 et Callender 2017, section 5 pour une discussion philosophique). Bien que je ne puisse pas entrer dans les détails ici, je tiens simplement à souligner que dans cette approche, la croissance n'est que locale. Comme l'écrit Callender (2017, 100)~: « [le] processus de `naissance' est appréhendé comme se déployant de manière `généralement covariante' ». Il n'existe donc pas de moyen unique de regrouper différents ensembles causaux qui ne sont pas liés entre eux et de prendre position sur ceux qui existent effectivement du point de vue d'un ensemble causal particulier. Dans cette approche, il est tout simplement impossible de quantifier sur ce qui existe dans d'autres séquences causales du point de vue d'un ensemble causal particulier. C'est pourquoi cette thèse de la croissance ne correspond pas à ce que l'on trouve dans le bouquet classique de thèses constituant la théorie de l'univers-bloc en croissance et incluant la composante non-futuriste. Cette vision pourrait être décrite de manière plus adéquate comme une « théorie de la pieuvre en croissance », car on pourrait penser (métaphoriquement) que toutes les différentes croissances déconnectées de manière causale sont les tentacules d'un pieuvre se déployant indépendamment les unes des autres. (Notez que la métaphore n'est pas tout à fait exacte puisque les tentacules se divisent indéfiniment en de nouveaux tentacules.) 18 En philosophie de l'esprit, on peut distinguer différentes questions~: les problèmes faciles et le problème difficile de la conscience. Les problèmes faciles consistent à trouver les conditions nécessaires et suffisantes pour l'existence d'états mentaux, formulés en termes scientifiques, ainsi qu'à rendre compte de l'intentionnalité. En revanche, le problème difficile de la conscience porte sur l'interprétation ontologique correcte de la relation qu'entretient la conscience avec le monde physique. Quelle est la source des corrélations entre les états mentaux et les états physiques~? Observons-nous ces corrélations parce que le mental est identique à des phénomènes physiques~? Ou avons-nous ici des types distincts de substances ou de propriétés liées par une relation quelconque~? Ou cela signifie-t-il que le mental est une pure illusion et n'existe pas~? Avec la conscience, en raison de l'aspect qualitatif de notre expérience, de « l'effet que cela fait d'expérimenter », et de son aspect subjectif, du fait que ces expériences semblent pointer dans la direction d'un sujet ayant ces expériences, nous développons une riche terminologie assez difficile à traduire dans le vocabulaire de la physique. Il semble que nous ayons un mystère à résoudre, à savoir la présence d'un fossé explicatif apparent entre deux mondes terminologiques qui semblent être très différents : le monde physique et le monde mental. On dit que ce problème est difficile car il ne semble pas que la science puisse nous aider à le résoudre. Ce problème semble quelque peu abstrait, et s'enracine peut-être dans les concepts que nous utilisons pour décrire le monde. Un problème difficile de l'espace-temps similaire apparaît dans une certaine mesure dans le contexte de l'émergence de l'espace-temps~: il semble que proposer une dérivation formelle d'une théorie spatio-temporelle à partir d'une théorie non-spatio-temporelle ne suffise pas à donner du sens, ontologiquement parlant, à l'apparente divergence conceptuelle entre les notions primitives de la théorie spatio-temporelle, et les notions primitives de la théorie non-spatio-temporelle (voir Maudlin 2007 pour une discussion de la question en mécanique quantique, Huggett et Wüthrich 2013 pour une discussion de la question en gravité quantique avec un focus épistémologique et Le Bihan à paraître~a pour une clarification du problème ontologique). De même, le « problème difficile du temps », par analogie avec les problèmes difficiles de la conscience et de l'espace-temps, exploite l'existence d'un fossé explicatif entre une théorie temporelle et une théorie atemporelle. Le vocabulaire temporel est profondément enraciné dans notre appareil conceptuel, et il est loin d'être clair comment nous devons considérer la référence de ce vocabulaire, métaphysiquement parlant, si le temps n'est pas fondamentalement réel. Ce qui importe ici, c'est que, même si nous parvenons à résoudre le problème « facile » en proposant une dérivation de la relativité générale et de la théorie quantique des champs à partir de la nouvelle théorie, il faudra encore combler une lacune~: pourquoi une théorie temporelle fonctionne-t-elle si bien comme une 19 approximation d'une théorie atemporelle ? Comme pour les problèmes difficiles de la conscience et de la espace-temps, je suggère de diviser les réponses possibles au problème difficile du temps en trois catégories : le dualisme – que pour une raison qui deviendra claire, j'appellerai la thèse du temps dérivé – le réductionnisme et l'éliminativisme. Le dualisme est l'idée que la structure atemporelle fondamentale et la structure temporelle dérivée sont toutes deux réelles. Le terme « dualisme » implique l'existence de deux catégories d'entités, mais il ne dit pas grand-chose sur la relation qui existe entre les deux catégories d'entités. En particulier, il ne dit pas si un ensemble d'entités est plus fondamental que l'autre. L'idée, ici, est que la structure décrite par une future théorie de la gravité quantique, ainsi que les entités dont cette structure est faite, sont plus fondamentales que les structures et que les entités décrites par RG et par la théorie quantique des champs. C'est pourquoi je ferai référence à cette théorie sous le nom de « thèse du temps dérivé ». Selon la thèse du temps dérivé (voir Wüthrich 2012b, 2017 pour des remarques dans cette direction) le temps existe, mais de façon dérivée26. La thèse temporelle dérivée exige de postuler trois choses~: premièrement, des couches de réalité (c'est-à-dire des niveaux ontologiques par opposition à des niveaux simplement descriptifs, épistémologiques), deuxièmement, une connexion ontologique indépendante de l'esprit entre les entités constituant ces niveaux de réalité, troisièmement, une relation de plus grande fondamentalité venant connecter les entités constituant ces niveaux. Cette relation de fondamentalité peut être primitive ou définie par rapport à une autre notion, par exemple une relation de fondation, ou une relation de construction (voir Bennet 2017). Selon la thèse réductionniste (Le Bihan 2018), les entités temporelles et atemporelles sont tout aussi réelles~; cependant, cela n'implique pas – en opposition à la thèse du temps dérivé – que la réalité est stratifiée en niveaux ontologiques, le niveau temporel étant moins fondamental que le niveau atemporel. Les entités temporelles, ou plus précisément pour cette question, les entités spatio-temporelles, peuvent être considérées comme étant littéralement composées d'entités non-spatiotemporelles en utilisant la notion de composition logique telle qu'elle est introduite par Paul (2002, 2012). La notion de composition logique a été introduite afin de formuler l'idée que les objets matériels (comme les chaises) sont littéralement composés de leurs propriétés (par exemple, leurs couleurs, leurs formes et leurs localisations primitives). Cela montre qu'il est concevable d'appréhender le monde naturel comme étant structuré de diverses catégories métaphysiques, et que la composition ne doit pas nécessairement relier des entités qui relèvent de la même catégorie métaphysique. L'approche réductionniste ne souscrit pas à cette théorie méréologique du faisceau 26 Wüthrich va même jusqu'à défendre le fait que les courbes temporelles fermées (closed timelike curves) pourraient être exclues au niveau fondamental tout en existant néanmoins à un niveau dérivé (Wüthrich à paraître). 20 (une théorie incompatible avec l'affirmation selon laquelle les localisations spatiales ou spatiotemporelles sont des propriétés primitives fondamentales27), mais elle exploite l'idée que les touts et leurs parties ne relèvent pas nécessairement de la même catégorie métaphysique. La manière dont nous devrions analyser le domaine temporel et le domaine non-temporel en termes de catégories métaphysiques n'est pas claire, mais le fait est que, quelle qu'en soit l'analyse pertinente, nous pouvons appréhender le dispositif de connexion entre les deux domaines comme une sorte de composition. Tout comme la thèse dérivée de l'espace-temps, la thèse réductionniste reconnaît l'existence d'entités temporelles et d'entités atemporelles. Et elle postule l'existence d'une relation indépendante de l'esprit entre les deux types d'entités. Par conséquent, la différence entre la thèse dérivée et la thèse réductionniste est que la première affirme que la notion de composition ne peut pas rendre compte de l'émergence de l'espace-temps, alors que la seconde identifie l'émergence de l'espace-temps avec un cas particulier de composition, en soulignant que la composition ne doit pas nécessairement être spatio-temporelle par nature. La thèse réductionniste, en choisissant la composition logique comme notion primitive pour relier le spatio-temporel au non-spatio-temporel, évite l'anti-réductionnisme ontologique, à savoir la stratification de la réalité en niveaux ontologiques. Qu'en est-il de l'éliminativisme temporel~? Selon l'éliminativisme, seule la structure décrite par la théorie fondamentale existe. L'espace-temps n'est pas fondamentalement réel car il n'existe pas simpliciter. Dans le cadre de cette ontologie, il n'y a pas besoin de niveaux de réalité, de dispositifs de connexion trans-niveaux et de relations comparatives de fondamentalité. Bien que cette approche puisse sembler métaphysiquement attrayante, elle rend le problème de la cohérence empirique (Huggett et Wüthrich 2013) plus pressant en niant que les éléments de confirmation empirique (evidence) justifiant nos théories sont localisées dans un espace-temps qui n'est pas fondamental. Wüthrich attire notre attention sur ce point lorsqu'il écrit : [C'est] une condition nécessaire pour toute science empirique d'être en mesure, au moins en principe, de mesurer ou d'observer quelque chose à un endroit et à un moment donnés. Cette locution en italique, à son tour, semble présupposer l'existence de l'espace et du temps. Si cette existence est maintenant niée dans les théories quantiques de la gravité, on pourrait alors craindre que ces théories soient contraintes de dire adieu à l'idée même de science empirique. Il devient donc primordial pour les partisans de ces 27 Pour une présentation et une discussion des théories méréologiques du faisceau en français, cf. Le Bihan (à paraître~b). 21 théories de montrer que celles-ci ne menacent que la fondamentalité, mais pas l'existence de l'espace et du temps. (Wüthrich 2017, 298) Je considère que ces trois options sont exhaustives~: l'émergence du temps signifie que le temps existe de manière dérivée, de manière réductrice ou qu'il n'existe tout simplement pas28. Je ne prendrai pas position sur ces interprétations possibles ici et j'examinerai plutôt leurs conséquences respective à l'égard de l'existence dans le temps29. Les conséquences de l'éliminativisme pour l'existence dans le temps sont évidentes~: la thèse implique un éternalisme standard dans le cas de l'approche des champs bidimensionnels de TC et un éternalisme atemporel dans le cas de GQB. Toutefois, la possibilité que le temps émerge dans le sens d'une réalité dérivée ou réductible nous amène à une nouvelle questioñ: se pourrait-il que l'une des thèses classiques sur l'existence dans le temps soit correcte au niveau macroscopique mais non au niveau fondamental~? 7. Des thèses réalistes à l'éternalisme Dans cette section, je soutiens que si l'une ou l'autre de la thèse du temps dérivé ou de la thèse réductionniste du temps est l'interprétation correcte de l'émergence du temps, alors l'éternalisme (standard ou atemporel) est vrai. Lorsque nous acceptons que l'émergence du temps 28 Expliquer l'émergence en termes de réduction pourrait surprendre le lecteur principalement formé à la philosophie de l'esprit ou à la philosophie de l'émergence car l'émergence est souvent définie négativement comme une impossibilité de réduire un cadre terminologique à un autre. Mais notez qu'en physique et en philosophie de la physique, il est courant de considérer l'émergence et la réduction comme des vues compatibles puisque l'émergence est une notion plus large (voir par exemple Butterfield 2011). 29 Braddon-Mitchell et Miller (2019) ont récemment affirmé que seule l'interprétation éliminativiste de l'émergence du temps mérite une discussion philosophique. Ils écrivent~: « Faisons la distinction entre ce que nous appelons les théories faiblement atemporelles et les théories fortement atemporelles. Les théories faiblement atemporelles sont des théories dans lesquelles, bien qu'il n'y ait pas de temps au niveau fondamental, le temps, ou quelque chose de très temporel, émerge à un niveau macroscopique. [...] Dans ce qui suit, nous ne nous intéresserons pas aux théories faiblement atemporelles car bien qu'il soit intéressant de découvrir que le temps est émergent plutôt que fondamental, aucun problème philosophique particulier ne découle de ces théories, et il n'est pas vraiment clair qu'il soit approprié de qualifier ces théories d'atemporelles » (Braddon-Mitchell et Miller 2019, 1808). Leur revendication est déroutante. Ils considèrent uniquement l'émergence possible du temps au sein d'une théorie physique particulière et ne considèrent pas l'émergence d'une théorie physique temporelle à partir d'une autre théorie physique distincte et atemporelle. Expliquer comment une telle émergence est possible constitue à mon sens une question philosophique très intéressante. 22 doit être interprétée selon une image stratifiée, le temps étant réel de manière dérivée ou réduite, comment devons-nous comprendre le débat sur l'existence dans le temps~? Pour commencer, selon le réalisme temporel (à savoir la disjonction de la thèse du temps dérivé et de la thèse réductionniste), la structure fondamentale30 non-spatio-temporelles et la structure spatio-temporelles sont toutes deux réelles. Cette approche suscite deux questions. Premièrement, l'« ontologie fondamentale » est-elle présentiste, éternaliste ou non-futuriste~? Comme je l'ai soutenu dans la section précédente, d'après GQB et TC, la structure fondamentale doit être interprétée comme étant éternaliste. Deuxièmement, la structure temporelle réelle (dérivée ou réduite) pourrait-elle se voir décrite correctement par le présentisme, le non-futurisme ou l'éternalisme~? En d'autres termes, se pourrait-il que, bien que le monde soit, disons, atemporellement éternaliste à l'échelle fondamentale de description, le monde puisse afficher à d'autres échelles – et en particulier à notre échelle macroscopique – une ontologie temporelle différente comme le présentisme, le non-futurisme ou l'éternalisme standard~? Face à cette question, on peut faire valoir qu'il serait quelque peu étrange de prétendre que différentes ontologies temporelles pourraient valoir à différents niveaux de réalité. Si l'éternalisme standard ou atemporel est vrai au niveau basique de description, c'est-à-dire celui qui est décrit avec précision par une théorie quantique de la gravité, il devrait peut-être en aller de même aux niveaux supérieurs de description. En d'autres termes, le monde naturel devrait satisfaire, pourrait-on dire, à un principe d'homogénéité métaphysique trans-niveaux. Selon ce principe, l'ontologie doit être la même à tous les niveaux de descriptioñ: les entités doivent relever des mêmes catégories métaphysiques primitives et satisfaire aux mêmes principes métaphysiques. Par exemple, si les propriétés sont universelles, alors les propriétés sont universelles à tous les niveaux ontologiques, au niveau fondamental mais aussi à tout autre niveau. Les propriétés ne deviennent pas soudainement, à une échelle particulière de description, des tropes ou des classes d'objets. Ou, pour prendre un autre exemple, si l'ontologie fondamentale est une ontologie d'objets, alors l'ontologie dérivée ne peut pas être une ontologie de faits. Si l'homogénéité métaphysique trans-niveaux est vraie en général, alors elle l'est en particulier pour l'existence dans le temps. Un tel principe est prima facie attrayant en étant fondé sur des considérations de parcimonie ontologique~: pourquoi multiplier les ontologies dans le monde réel s'il 30 Pour faciliter la présentation, dans ce qui suit, j'utiliserai l'expression « ontologie fondamentale » et ferai référence à des entités plus fondamentales que d'autres entités, en supposant que le mot « fondamental » doit être interprété différemment selon que nous opérons avec l'hypothèse de la thèse du temps dérivé (nous avons alors une notion de fondamentalité qui n'est pas identique à la composition méréologique) ou du réductionnisme temporel (la relation de plus grande fondamentalité n'est alors que la relation de méréologie non-spatio-temporelle de composition). 23 est possible de répondre aux questions philosophiques avec la même ontologie à tous les niveaux de descriptioñ? Cependant, il me semble que ce type de raisonnement devrait être abandonnée pour au moins trois raisons. Premièrement, ce principe est déjà remis en cause par la thèse du temps dérivé~: par définition, le temps (ou, plus précisément, l'espace-temps) est réel au niveau dérivé mais pas au niveau fondamental. Par conséquent, opérer sous l'hypothèse de la thèse du temps dérivé constitue déjà une dérogation au principe de l'homogénéité métaphysique trans-niveaux. En d'autres termes, souscrire à la thèse du temps dérivé revient à ouvrir la boîte de Pandore en rejetant l'universalité de l'homogénéité métaphysique – ce qui compromet la possibilité de l'utiliser aveuglément comme principe directeur méthodologique systématique. Deuxièmement, il est tout simplement possible de soutenir que l'on ne partage pas cette intuition en souscrivant à un pluralisme ontologique selon lequel l'ontologie n'est pas la même aux diverses échelles de description. Cette manoeuvre est d'ailleurs assez courante lorsqu'il s'agit de défendre une forme d'anti-réductionnisme théorique à l'égard des sciences spéciales telles que la biologie moléculaire ou la chimie quantique, fondé dans un certain anti-réductionnisme ontologique, à savoir la conjonction du pluralisme ontologique et d'une indexation des différentes ontologies aux diverses échelles de description. Et si, dans ce cas, les différences à propos de ce qui existe génèrent des classes de faits contradictoires à propos de ce qui existe (nous en discuterons plus en détail cidessous), il convient de noter que cette idée selon laquelle le monde est constitué de faits contradictoires constituant des fragments temporels (cf. Fine 2005) ou des fragments duels (voir Le Bihan et Read, section 5) a été avancée à plusieurs reprises. Troisièmement, les intuitions basées sur la seule expérience phénoménologique ne peuvent justifier aucune revendication philosophique sur l'ontologie des échelles qui restent hors de portée phénoménologique . Nos intuitions phénoménales sont en effet conditionnées par un cadre particulier, à savoir un niveau N* particulier, et il serait prématuré d'étendre l'ontologie de N* à tous les niveaux N sur cette seule base. Pour le dire de façon imagée, nous avons peut-être évolué dans une ontologie monochrome qui n'est pas représentative de la richesse colorée des systèmes ontologiques distincts constituant la réalité – et existant à différents niveaux ontologiques. Pour ces trois raisons, nous devons examiner attentivement la possibilité d'une fragmentation d'échelle, à savoir que différentes ontologies pourraient exister à différentes échelles de description, comme moyen de combiner la non-existence du temps au niveau fondamental avec l'une des trois ontologies temporelles à l'échelle humaine. 24 Je vais maintenant présenter un argument spécifique contre le fragmentalisme d'échelle pour le cas particulier de l'ontologie temporelle. Supposons que l'éternalisme atemporel décrit adéquatement la structure fondamentale, mais pas les niveaux supérieurs. L'ontologie de niveau supérieur est saisie par l'une des trois autres thèses~: le présentisme, le non-futurisme ou l'éternalisme standard. Le fragmentalisme d'échelle entraîne une indexation de l'existence simpliciter à des niveaux particuliers. En d'autres termes, l'existence simpliciter devient relative à des niveaux, et il n'y a pas d'existence simpliciter simpliciter. Par rapport à un niveau ontologique particulier, la gamme de ce qui existe simpliciter est différente (ou peut être différente) de la gamme de ce qui existe simpliciter par rapport aux autres niveaux. Il s'agit donc ici de restreindre la notion d'existence simpliciter à des niveaux. L'existence simpliciter est l'existence simpliciter par rapport à un niveau particulier. Il convient donc de distinguer deux types d'existence simpliciter~: l'existence simpliciter relative (l'existence simpliciter à un niveau ontologique particulier) et l'existence simpliciter universelle (l'existence simpliciter transniveaux). Dans la théorie qui en résulte, l'existence simpliciter relative (c'est-à-dire l'existence temporelle) peut varier en portée d'un niveau à l'autre. Prenons un exemple historique~: l'événement E de César traversant le Rubicon. Cet événement E est considéré comme existant dans le passé à partir de notre perspective du XXIe siècle. D'après le présentisme, E n'existe pas simpliciter. Or, selon la thèse du temps dérivé, cela ne peut être vrai qu'au niveau dérivé et le présentisme doit être réinterprété comme la thèse selon laquelle E n'existe pas simpliciter relativement au niveau supérieur. Toutefois, dans le contexte de l'émergence du temps, E peut être rattaché à – c'est-à-dire associé à – une partie propre de la structure fondamentale non-spatio-temporelle. Or, la base de E dans la structure fondamentale existe simpliciter, relativement à toute perspective au sein de la structure fondamentale, puisque l'éternalisme atemporel décrit adéquatement la structure fondamentale. Par conséquent, le partisan du présentisme dérivé peut soutenir qu'il est à la fois vrai que E existe simpliciter et que E n'existe pas simpliciter. Bien que l'entité servant de fondation existe atemporellement du point de vue de la structure fondamentale, l'entité fondée par l'entité servant de fondation n'existe pas simpliciter du point de vue de la structure dérivée. Cette ligne de pensée relationniste (l'existence simpliciter est indexée sur des niveaux) semble ainsi offrir une échappatoire aux présentistes et aux non-futuristes. Cependant, cette approche a pour conséquence désagréable de relativiser l'existence simpliciter à des niveaux, détruisant la possibilité de décrire ce qu'il y a de manière absolue. Il n'y a donc pas de réponse définitive à la question de savoir si César existe simpliciter puisque, dans ce tableau, les faits existentiels doivent être relativisés à des échelles de description. En outre, un cadre théorique aussi lourd (qui exige de souscrire à la thèse du temps dérivé contre le réductionnisme), 25 en introduisant un si grand nombre de dispositifs ontologiques – des niveaux ontologiques, des ontologies distinctes indexées à ces niveaux et des faits existentiels relativisés à ces niveaux – semble peu motivé. Bien que le fragmentalisme d'échelle permette, logiquement parlant, de défendre le présentisme dérivé ou le non-futurisme dérivé – des thèses très faibles puisqu'elles concèdent qu'elles ne s'appliquent pas au niveau fondamental – cela ne peut se faire qu'au coût prohibitif de la souscription à des revendications ontologiques radicales. Ainsi, la seule chose que les partisans du présentisme et du non-futurisme peuvent faire est de souscrire à des thèses affaiblies à partir de leur point de vue original pour un coût énorme. Par conséquent, il est raisonnable de supposer que l'existence simpliciter ne dépend pas des échelles de description, avec l'implication que les interprétations réalistes de l'émergence du temps (la thèse du temps dérivé et le réductionnisme) impliquent aussi un éternalisme standard ou atemporel. 8. Conclusion La non-fondamentalité du temps telle qu'on la rencontre dans la gravité quantique à boucles et dans la théorie des cordes, qu'elle soit interprétée de manière éliminativiste ou à travers le prisme d'un certain réalisme, implique l'éternalisme. Par conséquent, la dispute entre le présentisme, le nonfuturisme et l'éternalisme pourrait bien être tranchée empiriquement en faveur de l'éternalisme standard, avec l'approche des champs bidimensionnels de la théorie des cordes, ou de l'éternalisme atemporel, avec la gravité quantique à boucles. Remerciements Pour leurs commentaires très utiles sur une version antérieure de cet essai, mes remerciements vont à Jiri Benovsky, Annabel Colas, Alberto Corti, Claudio Calosi, Fabrice Correia, Tiziano Ferrando, Vincent Grandjean, Rasmus Jaksland, Niels Linnemann, Cristian Mariani, Keizo Matsubara, Robert Michel ainsi qu'à deux deux évaluateurs anonymes. Je remercie spécialement Nick Huggett et Christian Wüthrich pour leurs commentaires inestimables. Ce travail a été produit avec le soutien du Fonds national suisse de la recherche scientifique. Références : David John Baker : Does string theory posit extended simples? Philosopher's Imprint, 16(18), 2016. 26 Julian Barbour : The end of time: The next revolution in physics. Oxford University Press, 2001. Sam Baron : The curious case of spacetime emergence. Philosophical Studies, pages1-20, 2019. Sam Baron, Peter Evans et Kristie Miller : From timeless physical theory to timelessness. Humana Mente, 59:35-59, 2010. Karen Bennett : Making Things Up. Oxford University Press, 2017. Jiri Benovsky : From experience to metaphysics: On experience-based intuitions and their role in metaphysics. Noûs, 49(4):684{697, 2015. John Bigelow : Presentism and properties. Philosophical Perspectives, 10:35-52, 1996. Craig Bourne : A Future for Presentism. Oxford University Press, 2006. David Braddon-Mitchell et Kristie Miller : Quantum gravity, timelessness, and the contents of thought. Philosophical Studies, 176(7):1807-1829, 2019. Phillip Bricker : Island universes and the analysis of modality. In Gerard Preyer et Frank Siebelt, éditeurs : Reality and Humean Supervenience: Essays on the Philosophy of David Lewis, pages 27-55. Rowman and Littleeld Lanham, 2001. Charlie Dunbar Broad : Scientific Thought. Routledge & Kegan Paul London, 1923. Jeremy Butterfield : The end of time? British Journal for the Philosophy of Science, 53(2):289-330, 2002. Jeremy Butterfield : Less is different: Emergence and reduction reconciled. Foundations of Physics, 41(6):1065-1135, 2011. Jeremy Butterfield : On dualities and equivalences between physical theories. In Christian Wüthrich, Baptiste Le Bihan et Nick Huggett, éditeurs : Philosophy Beyond Spacetime. Oxford University Press, à paraître. URL https://arxiv.org/ abs/1806.01505 . Tim Button : There's no time like the present. Analysis, 66(290):130-135, 2006. Tim Button : Every now and then, no-futurism faces no sceptical problems. Analysis, 67(4):325332, 2007. Craig Callender : What Makes Time Special? Oxford University Press, 2017. Craig Callender et Nick Huggett : Physics Meets Philosophy at the Planck Scale: Contemporary Theories in Quantum Gravity. Cambridge University Press, 2001. Claudio Calosi et Matteo Morganti : Interpreting quantum entanglement: Steps towards coherentist quantum mechanics. British Journal for the Philosophy of Science, à paraître. William Lane Craig : Time and the Metaphysics of Relativity. Kluwer Academic, 2001. Thomas Crisp : On presentism and triviality. Oxford Studies in Metaphysics, 1:15-20, 2004. Daniel Deasy : What is presentism? Noûs, 51(2):378-397, 2017. 27 Mauro Dorato : The irrelevance of the presentist/eternalist debate for the ontology of Minkowski spacetime. Philosophy and Foundations of Physics, 1:93-109, 2006. Fay Dowker : Causal sets as discrete spacetime. Contemporary Physics, 47(1):1-9, 2006. Fay Dowker : The birth of spacetime atoms as the passage of time. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 1326(1):18-25, 2014. John Earman : Reassessing the prospects for a growing block model of the universe. International Studies in the Philosophy of Science, 22(2):135-164, 2008. Kit Fine : Tense and reality. In Kit Fine, éditeur : Modality and Tense, pages 261-320. Oxford University Press, 2005. Akiko Frischhut : What experience cannot teach us about time. Topoi, 34(1):143-155, 2015. Henrique Gomes, Sean Gryb et Tim Koslowski : Einstein gravity as a 3d conformally invariant theory. Classical and Quantum Gravity, 28(4):045005, 2011. Richard Healey : Can physics coherently deny the reality of time? Royal Institute of Philosophy Supplements, 50:293-316, 2002. Richard Healey : The measurement problem for emergent spacetime in loop quantum gravity. In Christian Wüthrich, Baptiste Le Bihan et Nick Huggett, éditeurs : Philosophy Beyond Spacetime. Oxford University Press, à paraître. Nick Huggett : Skeptical notes on a physics of passage. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 1326:9-17, 2014. Nick Huggett : Target space ≠ space. Studies in History and Philosophy of Science Part B: Studies in History and Philosophy of Modern Physics, 59:81-88, 2017. Nick Huggett et Tiziana Vistarini : Deriving general relativity from string theory. Philosophy of Science, 82(5):1163-1174, 2015. Nick Huggett, Tiziana Vistarini et Christian Wüthrich : Time in quantum gravity. A Companion to the Philosophy of Time, pages 242-261, 2013. Nick Huggett et Christian Wüthrich : Emergent spacetime and empirical (in)coherence. Studies in History and Philosophy of Science Part B: Studies in History and Philosophy of Modern Physics, 44(3):276-285, 2013. Nick Huggett et Christian Wüthrich : Out of Nowhere: The Emergence of Spacetime in Quantum Theories of Gravity. Oxford University Press, à paraître. Jenann Ismael et Jonathan Schaffer : Quantum holism: nonseparability as common ground. Synthese, pages 1-30, 2016. 28 Vincent Lam et Christian Wüthrich : Spacetime is as spacetime does. Studies in History and Philosophy of Science Part B: Studies in History and Philosophy of Modern Physics, 64:39-51, 2018. Baptiste Le Bihan : Un espace-temps de contingences. Thèse de doctorat, Rennes 1, 2015a. Baptiste Le Bihan : The unrealities of time. Dialogue, 54(1):25-44, 2015b. Baptiste Le Bihan : Priority monism beyond spacetime. Metaphysica, 19(1):95-111, 2018a. Baptiste Le Bihan : Space emergence in contemporary physics: Why we do not need fundamentality, layers of reality and emergence. Disputatio, 10(49):71-95, 2018b. Baptiste Le Bihan : Qu'est-ce que le temps? Vrin, 2019. Baptiste Le Bihan : Spacetime emergence in quantum gravity: Functionalism and the hard problem. Synthese, à paraître a. Baptiste Le Bihan : Les théories méreologiques du faisceau. In Dominique Berlioz, Filipe Drapeau Contim et Francois Loth, éditeurs : Metaphysique et ontologie. Paris : Vrin, à paraître b. Baptiste Le Bihan et Niels Linnemann : Have we lost spacetime on the way? Narrowing the gap between general relativity and quantum gravity. Studies in History and Philosophy of Science Part B: Studies in History and Philosophy of Modern Physics, 65:112-121, 2019. Baptiste Le Bihan et James Read : Duality and ontology. Philosophy Compass, page e12555, 2018. Fotini Markopoulou et Lee Smolin : Disordered locality in loop quantum gravity states. Classical and Quantum Gravity, 24(15):3813, 2007. Ned Markosian : A defense of presentism. Oxford Studies in Metaphysics, 1(3):47-82, 2004. Keizo Matsubara : Quantum gravity and the nature of space and time. Philosophy Compass, 12(3):e12405, 2017. Tim Maudlin : Completeness, supervenience and ontology. Journal of Physics A: Mathematical and Theoretical, 40(12):3151, 2007. Kerry McKenzie : The `philosopher's stone': physics, metaphysics, and the value of a final theory. In Christian Wüthrich, Baptiste Le Bihan et Nick Huggett, éditeurs : Philosophy Beyond Spacetime. Oxford University Press, à paraître. Hugh Mellor : Real Time II. Routledge, 1998. Bradley Monton : Presentism and quantum gravity. Philosophy and Foundations of Physics, 1:263280, 2006. Thomas V. Morris : Our Idea of God: An Introduction to Philosophical Theology. Intervarsity Press, 1991. 29 Ioan Muntean : Metaphysics from string theory: S-dualities, fundamentality, modality and pluralism. In T. Bigaj et C. Wüthrich, éditeurs : Metaphysics in Contemporary Physics, pages 259-292. Brill/Rodopi, 2015. Joshua Norton : Loop quantum ontology: spin-networks and spacetime. 2015. URL http://philsciarchive.pitt.edu/12016/. Manuscript. Joshua Norton : Incubating a future metaphysics: quantum gravity. Synthese, pages 1-22, 2017. Laurie A. Paul : Logical parts. Noûs, 36(4):578-596, 2002. Laurie A. Paul : Temporal experience. The Journal of Philosophy, 107(7):333-359, 2010. Laurie A. Paul : Building the world from its fundamental constituents. Philosophical Studies, 158(2):221-256, 2012. David P Rideout et Rafael D Sorkin : Classical sequential growth dynamics for causal sets. Physical Review D, 61(2):024002, 1999. Carlo Rovelli : Quantum Gravity. Cambridge University Press, 2004. Carlo Rovelli et Francesca Vidotto : Covariant Loop Quantum Gravity: An Elementary Introduction to Quantum Gravity and Spinfoam Theory. Cambridge University Press, 2014. Theodore Sider : Four-Dimensionalism: An Ontology of Persistence and Time. Oxford University Press, 2001. J. J. C. Smart : Philosophy And Scientic Realism. Humanities Press, 1963. Chris Smeenk : Time in cosmology. In Heather Dyke et Adrian Bardon, éditeurs : A Companion to the Philosophy of Time, pages 201-219. Wiley, 2013. Michael Tooley : Time, Tense, and Causation. Oxford University Press, 2000. Edward Witten : Reflections on the fate of spacetime. Physics Today, 49(4):24-31, 1996. Christian Wüthrich : No presentism in quantum gravity. In Vesselin Petkov, éditeur : Space, Time, and Spacetime, pages 257-278. Springer, 2010. Christian Wüthrich : Demarcating presentism. In EPSA Philosophy of Science: Amsterdam 2009, pages 441-450. Springer, 2012a. Christian Wüthrich : The structure of causal sets. Journal for General Philosophy of Science, 43(2):223-241, 2012b. Christian Wüthrich : The fate of presentism in modern physics. In Robert Ciuni, Kristie Miller et Giuliano Torrengo, éditeurs : New Papers on The Present: Focus On Presentism, pages 91-131. Philosophia Verlag, Munich, 2013. Christian Wüthrich : Raiders of the lost spacetime. In Dennis Lehmkuhl, Gregor Schiemann et Erhard Scholz, éditeurs : Towards a Theory of Spacetime Theories, pages 297-335. Springer, 2017. 30 Christian Wüthrich : Time travelling in emergent spacetime. In Judit Madarasz et Gergely Szekely, éditeurs : Hajnal Andreka and Istvan Nemeti on the Unity of Science: From Computing to Relativity Theory Through Algebraic Logic. Springer, à paraître. Christian Wüthrich et Craig Callender : What becomes of a causal set? The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science, 68(3):907-925, 2016.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Penultimate version forthcoming in Theoria: A Journal of Social and Political Theory Pluralism Slippery Slopes and Democratic Public Discourse Maria Paola Ferretti and Enzo Rossi Abstract Agonist theorists have argued against deliberative democrats that democratic institutions should not seek to establish a rational consensus, but rather allow political disagreements to be expressed in an adversarial form. But democratic agonism is not antagonism: some restriction of the plurality of admissible expressions is not incompatible with a legitimate public sphere. However, is it generally possible to grant this distinction between antagonism and agonism without accepting normative standards in public discourse that saliently resemble those advocated by (some) deliberative democrats? In this paper we provide an analysis of one important aspect of political communication, the use of slippery slope arguments, and show that the fact of pluralism weakens the agonists' case for contestation as a sufficient ingredient for appropriately democratic public discourse. We illustrate that contention by identifying two specific kinds of what we call pluralism slippery slopes, i.e. mechanisms whereby pluralism reinforces the efficacy of slippery slope arguments. Keywords: agonism, deliberative theory, ethical pluralism, public discourse, slippery slopes Introduction One central issue in recent liberal democratic theory, particularly of a deliberative democratic bend, is to explain how citizens can constructively engage in public discourse, given their deep social, cultural and ethical differences. Political liberals and Rawls in particular, have argued that in public debate reasonable citizens should abstract from their particular conceptions of the good and reason starting from some basic political principles that all can share, with the aim of reaching consensual solutions. This emphasis on shared values and consensus has lately become 1 the focus of what is sometimes referred to as the agonistic critique of deliberative democracy. 1 In a nutshell, the agonists' worry is that the sort of normative standards for public debate favoured by liberals such as Rawls and Habermas stifle democratic pluralism with moral and practical adverse effects in terms of civic cohesion, stability, legitimacy, and social development. Various authors (Knopfs 2007, Markell 1997) have suggested that the points of opposition between agonistic and deliberative democrats may not be as sharp as the proponents of both approaches argue. This distinction, however, has been very powerful in shaping the academic debate on the relative importance of contestation and consensus in public discourse (Brady 2004: 333). In the version of such opposition offered by Chantal Mouffe, the focus on reason-giving processes and the search for reasonable consent leads theorists of deliberation to set aside identity differences, antagonism and power relations. These should instead be taken to be "constitutive at the conceptual level of the very nature of modern democracy" (Mouffe 2000, p. 18). The aim of the democratic institutions should be to allow these differences to be expressed in an adversarial form. While for Rawls pluralism is an inescapable fact to be contained through the ideas of reasonableness and public justification, for Mouffe pluralism is preeminently a value and characterizes an open society in which different identities, understood in non-essentialists terms, are constantly renegotiated in the ongoing political confrontation (Mouffe 2000, p. 17). The debate on the role of pluralism in public debate is increasingly articulated and nuanced, however much of the literature is rather abstract. In this paper we set out to observe the effects of pluralism on some concrete instance of public communication. We have chosen to focus on one important aspect of public discourse, the function of slippery slope arguments which, as we will show, is particularly sensitive to the effects of pluralism in society. Our account of the dynamics of slippery slope arguments under conditions of pluralism yields an argument that weakens the agonists' case for unfettered democratic public discourse and points to the need for agonists to confront some of the problems that their understanding of political confrontation faces in its possible applications. Yet, unlike most defences of deliberative democracy, our argument proceeds from premises that agonists tend to share, namely the importance of taking actual interests, preferences and power dynamics seriously. Before outlining our argument, it may be worth asking why one should worry about slippery slope arguments. Those arguments are a fixture of academic and especially public 2 debates on controversial policies: the worry often arises that allowing a desirable practice might 'open the floodgates' to undesirable consequences. Now, as we will show in some detail, the use and abuse of slippery slope arguments should be a serious concern in so far as research shows how those arguments have low cognitive efficacy and high rhetorical impact-of course they are not the only kind of argument that suffers from those problems, but they provide an interesting and normatively significant case study of the effects of pluralism on the quality of public debate (Talisse 2009). In the version presented by some agonists, and that of Chantal Mouffe's in particular, opportunities for expression of disagreement should be maximized and the idea that deliberation should aim at rational agreement or consensus should be abandoned.1 Some critics, however, have remarked that Mouffe cannot explain how it is possible to distinguish between democratic and non-democratic discourse without explicitly endorsing some common principles or standards, such a commitment to liberty and freedom and indicate which political and legal institutions can favour such democratic qualities. (Deveaux 1999; Rummens 2009). Our analysis of slippery slope arguments corroborates this thesis. As we will show, where no common ethical and political standards are at works, public discourse under conditions of pluralism leads to a widespread recourse to slippery slope arguments. Now, setting aside the issue of the cognitive reliability of those arguments, which is quite likely no interest for agonists, what is most important even from the agonists' point of view is that in a pluralistic context slippery slope arguments tend to induce a form of social stifling. As an effect of slippery slopes arguments, opinions tend to polarize, and citizens refrain from supporting certain intermediate resolutions (desirable from their point of view) in fear that other social groups would use those same resolutions as a stepping stone to bring about further, undesirable changes. That is to say, society fails to take a step that most citizens and groups would consider acceptable or even desirable. So, unlike what the agonists' maintain, it is not always the case that the absence of shared standards in public debate is the best way to favour agonism (constructive confrontation, that is) rather than antagonism (ranging from political stalemates to all-out instability). A move from antagonism to agonism presupposes a normative view of the interactions among groups in society and may be impossible without employing some minimal standard of rationality akin to those found in deliberative democratic theory . As some 3 have argued, that is an element of Mouffe's theory that has not been emphasised enough (Knops 2007). As we will try to show, whether we conceive of the other as enemies or rather-as Mouffe thinks is desirable-we democratically appreciate their right to defend their position is also due to the dynamics that are created within public debate itself. Either the agonist accepts that any of those dynamics is equally good, or one defends agonist against antagonist processes. Indeed the thought that '[a] healthy democratic process calls for a vibrant clash of political positions and an open conflict of interests' (Mouffe, 2005, p. 6) may be regarded which much less enthusiasm in light of an account-such as the one offered in this paper-of some the dynamics instrinsic in such a normative conception of pluralism. In other words, our contention is tht this radical version of political disagreement is ill-suited to the challenges of democratic pluralism. Instead our argument points to the need of social, legal and political institutions capable of mediation among citizens' moral and cultural differences and of channeling the conflicts into a constructive discourse. The paper proceeds as follows. In the first section, by way of introduction, we provide an abstract model of slippery slope arguments by distinguishing between conceptual and empirical slippery slope arguments. The next step is to see how that general model is affected by the fact of ethical diversity. So we carry out our analysis of slippery slopes under conditions of pluralism and we introduce the idea of pluralism slippery slopes. Then, in the second section, we present a taxonomy of the possible causes of slippage: legal precedents, attitude changes, and political power dynamics. We also illustrate with examples how, in light of our earlier analysis of pluralism slippery slopes, each type of slippage can be affected by the fact of diversity. The third section applies our account of pluralism slippery slopes to the normative issue of the management of pluralism in a democratic context. Slippery Slope Arguments in Circumstances of Pluralism This is a standard initial characterization of the abstract structure of slippery slope arguments: A slippery slope argumentation scheme is a sequence of steps, a chain argument of the following form: First, it is conceded that there is no significant difference between two things A0 and A1. And since A0 is acceptable, A1 must be 4 acceptable too. But then, because there is the very same relationship between A1 and yet another thing A2 as there was between A0 and A1, it must be conceded that A2 is acceptable as well. Each time it is argued that the difference is not significant until, by a sequence A0, A1, ... , Ak, we arrive at some absurd or disastrous result Ak. The inevitable conclusion is that Ak must be acceptable too (Walton, 1989, p. 264). That characterization, however, is too abstract and general for our purposes. It will thus be useful to introduce a standard distinction between two different versions of the slippery slope argument: the logical (or conceptual) version and the empirical version: The logical form of the argument holds that we are logically committed to allow B once we have allowed A. The empirical form tells us that the effect of accepting A will be that, as a result of psychological and social processes, we sooner or later will accept B (van der Burg, 1991, p. 43). To be more precise, there is a further distinction between two variants of the logical slippery slope. On the first variant there is no relevant conceptual difference between A and B, or the justification for A applies equally to B. On the second variant there is a difference, but 'there is no such difference between A and m, m and n, ... y and z, z and B, and that therefore allowing A will in the end imply the acceptance of B' (van der Burg, 1991, p. 44). At any rate, with few notable exceptions2 moral and political philosophers have tended to concern themselves mainly with the logical version of the argument, often downplaying or even dismissing the relevance of empirical slippery slope arguments in rigorous political and ethical discussion. Yet one should not presumptively overlook the plausibility of some empirical slippery slope arguments just because they are not subject to the same standard of proof as purely conceptual arguments: 'Despite the tendency of the textbooks to treat slippery slope arguments as fallacious, it has become evident that this is probably not correct, and that some arguments of this type can be correct, given the right context of discussion' (Walton, 1992, p. 37). In fact, as we shall see in some detail below, most slippery slope arguments deployed in public discourse are of 5 the empirical kind-and there is nothing fallacious about that argumentative form per se. At any rate, in the public sphere (as opposed to philosophical debate) often what matters about slippery slope arguments is their (perceived or real) predictive power, rather than their conceptual force (Lode, 1999). So the point is not that conceptual arguments are not relevant in those debates; it is just that we need analytical tools to make sense of the non-conceptual arguments, and of their effects on public discourse. So, while we should be wary of the way in which slippery slope arguments are often used as the 'trump card of the traditionalist' (Williams, 1986, p. 426), we should not automatically dismiss empirical slippery slope arguments either. We should rather try to assess their predictive force-a philosophically unfamiliar yet relevant task for the assessment of the normative relevance of those arguments. Additionally, as will become clearer below, we should recognize the implications of the impact of such arguments for the way we perceive and manage pluralism in a democratic context. That was a thumbnail sketch of the abstract structure of slippery slope arguments. Before entering into any detail as regards what exactly may cause slippages of one sort or another, however, it will be useful to introduce our analysis of what happens to slippery slope arguments under conditions of ethical diversity-as we shall see, that will have important consequences for our understanding of the role and management of pluralism in liberal democratic contexts. As anticipated, one of our contentions is that the fact of pluralism plays an important role in determining the potential severity of slippages, or at least their perceived potential severity. In a society where different groups of citizens take different stands with regard to a certain policy, the preoccupation with empirical slippery slopes takes the following form. A certain group X of citizens supports (or at any rate finds acceptable) a certain decision A, but decides to oppose it in fear that passing that decision will put another rival group Y in a better position to defend (and pass) another decision B that X oppose. Call this a pluralism slippery slope. The relevant question, then, is this: what, if any, is the rationale3 for X to support (or not support) A, given that it may facilitate Y in their claim for B? What makes such a question relevant is the fact that competing groups in society support different policies that are located on different points along the slope, as it were (Volokh, 2003, p. 13). At least in some cases the lack of control of X over the actions of Y (e.g. how they will draw on a decision A to foster decision B and perhaps C) is bound to increase the perception of the risk of a slippage.4 So, in a society 6 where citizens are deeply divided in their ethical and ideological positions (as opposed to a more homogenous community) it is more likely that slippery slope arguments will be deployed and perhaps win the day. Possible strategic uses of slippages include using them rhetorically to support one's point, or rather avoiding drawing attention to the possible connections among various elements of an argument so as to prevent possible slippages to undesirable conclusions/decisions. Although our examples concentrate on cases in which such arguments are deployed in public, it is clear that they play an important role even in cases in which, as a matter of strategy, citizens avoid expressing certain views in fear that they may be exploited by others. However the perception of the risk of slippage is not only due to diffidence towards people with different ethical outlooks and political preferences. Pluralism also affects the ways in which individuals and groups come to pass judgment on the likelihood and plausibility of the progression from one step on a slippery slope to the following ones. Formulating judgments on the likelihood of certain undesirable consequences (which may derive from taking a desirable course of action) requires a complex evaluation, burdened by the difficulty of assessing empirical evidence, disagreement about the relative weight of relevant considerations, the vagueness and indeterminacy of our conceptual tools, and so on. That account explains persistent and deep disagreement even among citizens who share a number of deep ethical commitments. The differences in their whole life experiences (which tend to be greater in societies where citizens enjoy liberal-democratic freedoms) produce differences in their epistemic stances, and so influence the way they reason about possible implications between one case and the other.5 Varieties of Slippages Our account of pluralism slippery slopes above begins to bring into a sharper focus a way in which the fact of pluralism can exacerbate some ethical and political controversies. In the third section we will explore exactly why that tends to be socially detrimental. As a groundwork for answering that question it will first be useful to get a more concrete sense of how pluralism slippery slopes can affect public debate. Thus in this section we introduce a taxonomy of the causes slippery slopes (adapted from Volokh, 2003). The distinction between the three types of slippages is made for analytical purposes, in so far as most 'real world' slippery slopes are in fact 7 an hybrid of legal, political and socio-psychological elements. Without addressing the merits of the particular arguments at stake, we will introduce some examples to illustrate how, under conditions of diversity, each potential slippage is susceptible to argumentative exploitation-as envisaged in our account of pluralism slippery slopes. Legal Slippery Slopes In most legal systems precedents play a central role in grounding further judicial decisions.6 Weighty reasons are needed in order to depart from a precedent-and typically such departures become exceptions that constitute new rules for the treatment of similar cases. To a certain extent, what counts as a similar case will then be subject to the interpretation of different judges, as legal rules are generally vague at the margins. Thus a legal rule may evolve from A to B and to C by means of the introduction of new rules that are progressively more distant from the initial rule. So, even if slippery slope arguments do not always impair legal reasoning, sometimes the logically weak distinction between a case and a precedent enables slippages. Given the possibility that other judges give an interpretation of the new rule that goes beyond the intended limit, some may decide against interpretation B of A, in fear that via a legal slippery slope it may bring about C, which they strongly oppose. Lawrence v Texas (539 U.S.558, 2003) is a good illustration on how legal decisions have been regarded (and opposed by some) as a first step on a slope which, under conditions of pluralism, can become very slippery. This is a landmark United State Supreme Court case, in which the justices declared unconstitutional the sodomy law in Texas, thus reversing a previous ruling which did not find a constitutional protection for privacy in the case of homosexual sex (Bowers v. Hardwick 478 U.S. 86, 1986). Justice Kennedy, who wrote the majority opinion, grounded the right to have consensual homosexual sex among adults on the intimate and personal character of the conduct, thereby invalidating similar laws that criminalised sodomy throughout the United States. Additionally, it offered a legal basis for the protection of a whole host of sexual activities between consenting adults. The gay community welcomed this ruling as a positive legal development, which may result in further legal advance in the protection of gay rights. By converse, justice Antonin Scalia based his dissent on the negative slippage induced by this judgment, which denies that morality should be defended by law. Scalia argues that this ruling 8 will bring into question not only Bower, but also some subsequent judgments from lower courts and the envisaged effects are: State laws against bigamy, same-sex marriage, adult incest, prostitution, masturbation, adultery, fornication, bestiality, and obscenity are likewise sustainable only in light of Bowers' validation of laws based on moral choices. Every single one of these laws is called into question by today's decision.7 In other words, for Scalia the Bowers ruling is the only floodgate against a set of undesirable consequences. The reasons for opposing the ruling are not so strongly directed at defending the law against 'sodomy', but at holding the floodgate. The worry is that any further stopping point would be arbitrary, and given that some other groups (in this case gay rights advocates) consider some steps further on the slippage as positive, one should reasonably think that they will exploit them to their advantage: 'With this decision' Scalia concluded, the Court 'has largely signed on to the so-called homosexual agenda'. This formulation suggests that the existence of a rival group which regards the slippage as positive makes it more threatening, and the fact that different courts and judges may give interpretations more favourable to those rival groups exacerbates the worry. However, even assuming a relative impartiality of judges between the gay cause and the conservative claim, one may expect that different judges disagree, due to a different interpretation of the constitutionally protected value of privacy. Whilst for the dissent the decision implies that 'everything goes', the majority opinion stresses the limits of the scope of the ruling, for example asserting that it excludes public recognition of gay unions (and therefore also of bigamy, which is one of the possible feared steps further down the slope envisaged by Scalia). Now, if we consider judges as reasonable actors we can understand their disagreement about the possibility of slippery slopes. However their arguing in terms of slippages, in order to be something more than rethoric or an ad hominem attack, must respect some rules such as using clear definitions that are accessible to all, and showing evidence for the likelihood of the slippage, for example by showing that there are no other legal resources to prevent it (Walton, 1992, pp. 175-176). 9 Instead, Scalia moves the attention from the reason-giving process to the actors and their different identities. By identifying gay rights advocates as antagonists Scalia implies that they will probably exploit slippages to their own advantage. If we treat this issue as an antagonistic confrontation among different groups, then it seems that the use of the argument from possible legal slippages will be more widespread and, perhaps, successful. This would be desirable for those who want to oppose gay unions, but not those who would accept gay unions but not, say, bigamy, or other consequences envisaged by Scalia. As a result of this worry, an acceptable or even desirable change risks being stopped in its tracks. What is important to stress here for the purposes of our argument is that the use of slippery slope arguments is an instance of how the sort of unregulated, confrontational public discourse favoured by agonists has deleterious effects for the quality of societal interactions and for society's ability to progress in whatever direction it regards as acceptable or desirable.8 Attitude Change Slippery Slopes This second kind of slippery slope concerns not specifically the outcomes of a certain decisionmaking process but the attitudes of people toward a certain proposal. This can be confined to the evaluation of a certain proposal, which is in general connected with the support of withdrawal of support for the proposal, but could also extend to the motivational disposition towards a rule, at least if we accept that the motivation to comply with the law depends on attitudinal dispositions toward the rule (Elster, 1989). Arguably, moving from the absolute banning of a practice to a regulated use of that practice under certain specific circumstances specified by a law may weaken motivation by generating an attitudinal change toward the rule. Affected by the is/ought heuristic, people may think that if a law exists, the justification of the law is sound, and will thus use such perceived justification (however illor well-grounded it may be) in order to form their opinion on other cases (Foot, 1977). In this way a gradual, incremental change in the attitude of the people and in society occurs, which would never have occurred as a single big and sudden change, for as such it would not have been considered acceptable (Glover, 1984; Williams, 1985). Consider the issue of embryology, whose discussion frequently features attitudinal slippery slope arguments. In countries like Germany, where the horror of the Holocaust has deep cultural 10 relevance (Wessels, 1994), those arguments have been used with remarkable success to stop or delay legislation and regulation of genetics' applications. For example, until the more liberal regulation of 2010, pre-implantation genetic diagnosis (PGD) was banned. Despite the fact that most Germans believed that the use of PGD was justified for selecting against some lifethreatening monogenetic deseases,9 opposers (such as disability advocacy groups) argued that this would be the first step on a dangerous slippery slope. They argued that, as is the case in countries like the USA (where PGD is permitted), people will ask for selection against increasingly less serious diseases and genetic fitness will become the new standard for being born; thus, in a progressive series of small psycho-social changes, people would end up having less respect for disabled people (Franzisket, 2010). In the same vein, in a public speech in May 2001, Federal President Johannes Rau stated that there is no scope for compromise on the value of human dignity (which in German law is ascribed also to the embryo), as that would undermine the general force of the principle: 'Those who begin to instrumentalize human life, to differentiate between worthy of life and unworthy of life, are on a runaway train' (Cohen, 2001). The fear is that, as Habermas (2003) put it, we face an 'erosion of moral inhibitions' against the violation of certain principles. The thought behind these statements is that, '[once we have] compromised a bit on the principle, there's nothing to be lost by compromising further' (Volokh, 2003, pp. 3334). Attitudinal slippages may be simply out-of-hand processes which occur in society, which may be prevented by avoiding stepping on the slope in the first place; or they can be processes explicitly exploited by some groups in order to push changes that are desirable from their point of view, but are not supported by other groups in society. In both cases, we can discern the relevance of pluralism: it may be that a group X has some moral and/or political beliefs in A such that they would allow for certain practices B but oppose firm resistance to other practices C and D. Although confident in the moral strength of the members of their own group, some may doubt another group Y, who do not share (say) the same religious motivation for strongly upholding A even when B is allowed; thus group Y could allow (or even actively work to reach) steps C and D. What is more, group Y may promote values that are in tension with those expressed by A and be prepared to accept trade-offs that are unacceptable from the point of view of group X. For instance in the case of embryology, the rapidly growing biotech industry and its lobbies are often 11 indicated as having substantial economic returns from an increased demand for PGD, and therefore as having an interest in exploiting the slippage at least down to some steps that others find unacceptable. So, as envisaged by our account of pluralism slippery slopes, the antagonistic posturing of a plurality of divergent interests and perspectives gives force to arguments invoking the possibility of slippages, thus making the recourse to such arguments and their success more likely, regardless of the intrinsic quality of such arguments. To see this from a slightly different angle, we may say that the sort of pluralism slippery slopes that tend to be invoked in public discourse in circumstances of agonistic pluralism make it more difficult to accept reasonable defenses of opposing positions in fear of the unwanted consequences that these could have. Political Power Slippery Slopes This third instance of slippery slope concerns the relative force of the various groups in society. The relative power of social groups may change as a consequence of various empirical factors, which may have an impact on (say) the size of groups, or their political influence. 10 Volokh identifies five kinds of political power slippery slopes: decisions to change the voting rules; decisions to change the immigration rate; change the levels of participation in political campaigns; change in the number of people who feel personally affected by a particular policy; events that make supporters of a certain option more credible to the public or more capable to organise public campaigns and political action; political momentum slippages (Volokh, 2003, pp. 47-48). In the 2008 US presidential campaign, Barack Obama's proposal for health reform included various measures aimed at expanding access to health coverage, with the aim of obtaining or approximating universal coverage. These included incentives (through public funding) to individuals and employers, compulsory coverage for children, and the creation of a National Health Insurance Exchange through which individuals could purchase public plans or qualified private insurance plans. After months of political battles, the reality of the reform in 2010 has been much more modest. It leaves the insurance system basically unchanged, insofar as it does not envisages a 'public option', but introduces subsidies for the purchase of coverage and regulates the insurance market by introducing some rules such as the prohibition to deny 12 coverage on the basis of previous conditions, and the obligation to cover young adults until the age of 26 under their parents' insurance. Even those rather modest interventions are regarded with strong suspicion by President Obama's opponents, who see these small changes as a slippery slope toward a system of statefunded healthcare. Michael G. Franc, vice president of government relations for the Heritage Foundation, for one, denounced a chain of changes that-in his view-will follow the reform: Those seemingly modest changes urged by the White House, you see, would fundamentally alter the terms and conditions under which Americans purchase their health insurance. Worse, those changes cannot stand alone. They would necessitate a series of additional changes, each building upon the others so as ultimately to produce reform every bit as 'robust' - and every bit as lethal - as the $2-trillion government takeover now being so loudly denounced in town halls throughout the nation (Lansing, 2010). This formulation may suggest a change in the attitudes of health insurance purchasers. However what is interesting to observe here is the perception of how a modest political victory can become, via political slippages, a great success because of how it changes, progressively, the way they are affected by the reform. An unpopular reform may 'sneak in from the back door' because it obtains support from people that, before the first step on the slippage, did not 'need' a public health system, but do need it at the end of the slope (and therefore will be favourable to it) because of the earlier small changes introduced by the liberal reformists. In Franc's description the steps of the health care reform slippery slope roughly are: a) guaranteed coverage (independent from previous conditions); b) less healthy people who purchase insurance plans; c) rise of cost of premium; d) health insurers will ask that purchasing a plan is made mandatory; e) liberals would find the proposal sound; f) many will find the cost of the mandatory premium unaffordable; g) as a response, liberals will therefore introduce public subsidies; h) these public subsidies will expand to meet the demands of various patient groups and lobbies and the costs will be born by consumers and tax payers; i) government enforcement bodies will be needed to enforce the individual and employer mandates. He concludes: 13 So there we have it: the slippery slope of health reform. Drop the controversial notion of a public plan. Ask for the voters' forgiveness. Scale back the ambition, and tone down the rhetoric. Return with a 'constrained' package limited to a few 'consumer-friendly' regulations on insurers. And, before you know it, Mr. Liberal Reformer, you're back where you always wanted to be, the proud proponent of a massive legislative and regulatory overhaul that registers 9.5 on the political Richter Scale (Lansing, 2010). That argument-whatever its merits-points at how small successes can be exploited from the winning party to gain political support for their proposals only because a first reform has created the need for such changes in the country. In particular steps e), f) and g) point at the exploitation of the slippage on the part of the liberals-a clear case of pluralism slippery slope. In fact Franc's idea is not simply that liberals fail to appreciate (or appreciate differently) the possible consequences of their reform. Rather, he presents the current reform as a back-handed strategy to gain further support. So it seems that his argument leans on an agonistic understanding of pluralism, where raw power relations are seen as a necessary part of the democratic process (Mouffe, 2005, p.7). In the next section we will consider why that may be problematic, and how promoting agonism may require us to consider some regulation of the public debate in order to prevent widespread use of slippery slopes. The Quality of Political Debate Now we have seen exactly how pluralism tends to reinforce slippery slope arguments: (more or less accurate) predictions of how other people will react to the situations brought about by the various steps on the slope increase the perception of the risk of slippage, and thus inhibit steps that would otherwise be desirable for all parties.11 This path dependency on other parties' behaviour-engendered by the fact of pluralism-often makes slippery slope arguments cognitively challenging. However, as a matter of fact, often people resort to and are influenced by these arguments, whatever their cognitive merits. But the issue here is not cognitive reliability per se, but rather the fact that slippery slope arguments are politically powerful despite their typically low cognitive reliability. In short, considerations on the mechanics of 'bounded rationality' should lead us to recognize that, while some slippery slope arguments may well be 14 cognitively reliable, we should be wary of their overall effects on the quality of public debate. David Enoch clarifies that his point applies especially to political debates: 'my argument gives a very strong reason not to let slippery slope arguments have influence in the political arena-indeed, a much stronger reason than the one it gives not to use slippery slope arguments in a philosophical discussion' (Enoch 2001, p. 643). In this sense, regardless of whether our leanings are progressive or conservative, there is at least a pro tanto reason to try to reduce the impact of slippery slope arguments. Moreover, there is another, deeper and equally non-partisan reason to oppose slippery slope arguments, namely the social stifling brought about by the success of slippery slope arguments in public debate.12 The social, legal and/or political change that is seen as the first step on the slippery slope is typically considered acceptable or even desirable even by those who oppose the change (or at least by a large majority-hence the need for a slippery slope argument);13 yet if the argument is successful that step is forsaken because of the undesirability of what lies at the bottom of the slope. In other words, slippery slope arguments make it more likely that a society will miss opportunities for desirable changes. Those considertaions show why we have reason to try to develop a culture of public debate that reduces the prevalence and force of slippery slope arguments. Working out how that may be achieved is beyond the remit of this paper. However it seems fair to say that the sort of unbounded public discourse favoured by agonists is unlikely to mitigate the recourse to and the adverse effects of slippery slope arguments. And perhaps that point may be applied by extension to other kinds of argumentative strategies. On the other hand, if we cultivated reasonable rather than radical pluralism, it would be more likely that the various social groups would be willing move to the first step, given that their expectations regarding the behaviour of other groups would be informed by a constructive rather than an adversarial attitude. Let us get clearer about that point. So far we have described the context of pluralism mainly descriptively, as diversity. We identified a host of circumstances that make slippages more threatening, and thereby more salient and pressing than they would be in circumstances of moral homogeneity. Mouffe insist that is not homogeneity that we are seeking, but rather agonistic rather than antagonistic confrontation, and agree that some limits need to be put to the kind of confrontation which is going to be seen as legitimate in the public sphere (Mouffe 2010, p. 93). 15 The question is where and how these limits should be drawn. Our claim is that an analysis of the consequences of pluralism for the conduct and outcomes of public deliberation such as the one carried out here should shed some light on that question. As anticipated, our answer will be that pluralism slippery slopes point towards a reason in favour of a more circumspect approach to the management of pluralism than the one favoured by the agonistic theories of democracy that are currently developing a growing following. However, while our conclusions are largely hostile to agonism, the type of argument we offer is consonant with those approaches. According to Chantal Mouffe: Many liberal theorists refuse to acknowledge the antagonistic dimension of politics and the role of affects in the construction of political identities because they believe that it would endanger the realization of consensus, which they see as the aim of democracy. What they do not realize is that, far from jeopardizing democracy, agonistic confrontation is the very condition of its existence. [...] a pluralist liberal democratic society does not deny the existence of conflicts but provides the institutions allowing them to be expressed in an adversarial form (2005, p. 30). In a similar vein, John A. Hall argues that 'exclusion creates resistance, whereas inclusion diffuses conflicts through society, thereby lowering the temperature of politics' (2008, p. 75). In addition to agonists as different as Mouffe, William Connolly (2002) and Bonnie Honig (1993), a number of other theorists argue along similar lines: for instance, Bernard Williams (2005), Raymond Geuss (2008), John Gray (2000) and Glen Newey (2001) attack the moralism and the legalism of John Rawls' and Ronald Dworkin's 'high liberalism' on the grounds that it stifles pluralism in undesirable ways. Despite the important differences among these authors, which we cannot discuss in any detail here, the general line of argument towards which they converge is that that democratic structures should maximize the opportunity for people and groups to defend their position (whatever that might be), without discarding their emotional, non-rational and antagonistic component for the sake of achieving an elusive reasonable consensus. Pluralism in 16 public discourse is not a threat to liberal-democratic values that needs to be contained, but rather a necessary condition for the full realization of those values.14 Now, while there may well be a lot to say for that view, our analysis of pluralism slippery slopes highlights one specific area in which it presents some serious problems, for slippery slopes deform the expression of people's positions in democratic debates by generating 'yes' and 'no' fronts without space for intermediate positions, and indeed causing stifling, often on conservative (here used simply in terms of conservation of the status quo rather than indicating specific political views) positions. The problem is as much one of reducing the force of slippery slope arguments as it is one of reducing the likelihood of the recourse to slippery slope arguments. Unhinged pluralism exacerbates certain debates by increasing the force of slippery slope arguments, either because socially fragmented groups will operate in antagonistic isolation, or because of a lack of shared rules to distinguish legitimate and illegitimate uses of slippery slope arguments. In this perspective the 'vibrant clash of political opinions' (Mouffe, 2005, p. 6) cannot be a guarantee of a debate that is democratic unless there is at least a shared attempt at convergence. So it seems plausible to suggest that the hope that antagonism transforms spontaneously in agonism collapses once one analyses closer specific features of unconstrained public debates; slippery slope arguments are one apt illustration of that dynamic. As Rainer Forst puts it, keeping public democratic discourse within the bounds of reasonable pluralism promotes 'a "civic bond" between liberal citizens who consider their social and political framework as a common project for which they are collectively responsible' (2001, p. 350).15 Our claim is not that there is something intrinsically valuable in that 'social bond' (we remain neutral in that respect). Rather, in so far as it reduces the force of pluralism slippery slopes, such a bond tends to produce effects that can be considered beneficial from the point of view of most social groups, not just in terms of outcomes but also in terms of the sorts of positions that can be openly defended in the public space. The thought here is that the agonistic understanding of public debate as an arena for confrontation between conflicting identities (although understood in non-essentialist terms) tends to create social stasis, as differences are highlighted, and mutual trust between social groups is consequenty eroded. Thus promoting democratic agonism seems to require practical measures to 17 address this problem in actual politics as well as accepting some minimal rational standards that can regulate agonistic interactions. Clearly the argument we have presented does not offer suggestions on which specific forms of standards should be put in place. However in the literature there are suggestions, for example, about the practicability of mediation-based models of democracy able to prevent dialogue from deteriorating into mutual attacks and guiding the discussions towards possible solutions (Deveaux 1997: 18). Our argument is broadly compatible with many of the premises of agonistic approaches to democracy, unlike most arguments for deliberative democracy. Indeed our argument does not proceed from moral notions of fairness, recognition, or neutrality, which are often denounced by agonists as unargued-for ways of moralistically skewing the democratic game in a liberal direction, as it were. Rather, our argument proceeds from some observations about the nature of democratic politics: the argument is driven by a concern for avoiding social stifling that is rooted in an observation of the actual interests of social groups, rather than merely in pre-political moral commitments, so it may be considered a realist contribution that is somewhat orthogonal to the debate betwen agonists and deliberative democrats.16 Moreover it is worth pointing out that our position ultimately results from an empirical balancing exercise between the fostering of pluralist exchange and the need to prevent some undesirable effects of unhinged pluralism; so the issue we have raised here is not one that can be solved from the armchair, applying a moral ideal to the design of political institutions.17 Careful consideration must be paid to the exact make-up of the society at hand, and the argument offered here serves only as a rough guide to some of the factors that are relevant to addressing the challenges of pluralism. Thus it may turn out that, depending on a society's make-up, different measures for channeling political communication towards democratic solutions may be justified. And it is this pragmatic (for lack of a better term) justification of the restrictions favoured by deliberative democrats which should appeal to agonists and realists. For instance, even Mouffe writes that '[agonistic democracy] does not mean accepting a total pluralism, and some limits need to be put to the kind of confrontation which is going to be seen as legitimate in the public sphere'. The point, however, is about the status of those limits: 'But the political nature of the limits should be acknowledged instead of being presented as requirements of morality or rationality ' (Mouffe 2000, p. 93; 2005, p. 121). 18 Examining exactly what kind of procedural norms for democratic discourse are most conducive to a healthy form of pluralism for a given society will have to be a subject for further studies. References Argenton, C. and Rossi, E. 2013. Pluralism, Preferences, and Deliberation: A Critique of Sen's Constructive Argument for Democracy. Journal of Social Philosophy, 44(2): 129-145. Brady, J. 2004 No Contest? Assessing the Agonistic Critiques of Jürgen Habermas's Theory of the Public Sphere., Philosophy & Social Criticism 30.3: 331-354. Cohen, R. 2001 'Clash on Use of Embryos in Germany Stirs Echoes of Nazi Era', New York Times, 30 May. Available from: http://www.nytimes.com/2001/05/30/world/clash-on-use-ofembryos-in-germany-stirs-echoes-of-nazi-era.html [Accessed 23 September 2010]. Connolly, W. 2002 Identity\Difference: Democratic Negotiations of Political Paradox. Minneapolis MN: University of Minnesota Press. Deveaux, M. 1999. 'Agonism and Pluralism', Philosophy and Social Criticism, 25(4):1-22. Dryzek, J. S. 2000 Deliberative Democracy and Beyond: Liberals, Critics, Contestations. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Elster, J. 1989'Social Norms and Economic Theory', Journal of Economic Perspectives, 3 (4), 99-117. Enoch, D. 2001 'Once You Start Using Slippery Slope Arguments, You're on a Very Slippery Slope', Oxford Journal of Legal Studies, 21 (4), 629-47. Feldman, R. and Warfield, T. A. (eds.) 2010 Disagreement. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 19 Fishkin, J. S. 1997. The Voice of the People: Public Opinion and Democracy, second edition. New Haven CT: Yale University Press. Foot, P. 1977. 'Euhanasia', Philosophy and Public Affairs, 85 (6), 87-112. Forst, R. 2001. 'The Rule of Reasons: Three Models of Deliberative Democracy', Ratio Juris, 14 (2), 345-78. Fossen, T. 2008. 'Agonistic Critiques of Liberalism: Perfection and Emancipation', Contemporary Political Theory 7(4), 376-394. Franzisket, C.(2010. 'Die Angst für die Gendiagnose', Tagesspiegel, 17 July. Available from: http://www.tagesspiegel.de/politik/die-angst-vor-der-gendiagnose/1880334.html [Accessed on 25 September 2010]. Galston, W. 2010. 'Realism in Political Theory', European Journal of Political Theory 9(4), 385411. Gaus, G. F. 1999. 'Reasonable Pluralism and the Domain of the Political: How the Weaknesses of John Rawls' Political Liberalism Can be Overcome by a Justificatory Liberalism', Inquiry, 42 (2), 259-84. Geuss, R. 2008. Philosophy and Real Politics. Princeton NJ: Princeton University Press. Glover, J. 1984. What Sort of People Should There Be? Oxford: Oxford University Press. Glover, R.W. 2012. 'Games Without Frontiers? Democratic Engagement, Agonistic Pluralism and the Question of Exclusion', Philosophy and Social Criticism 38 (1), 81-104. Goodin, R. E. 2008. Innovating Democracy: Democratic Theory and Practice after the Deliberative Turn. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Gürsözlü, F. 2009. Agonism and Deliberation: Recognizing the Difference, Journal of Political Philosophy 17 (3), 356-368. 20 Gutmann, A. and Thompson, D. 1996. Democracy and Disagreement. Cambridge MA: Belknap. Habermas, J. 2003. The Future of Human Nature. London: Polity Press. Hall, J. A. 2008. 'Liberalism for Hobbesian Reasons', Journal of Power, 1 (1), 75-85. Honig, B. 1993. Political Theory and the Displacement of Politics. Ithaca NY: Cornell University Press. Knops, A.2007. Debate: Agonism as Deliberation–On Mouffe's Theory of Democracy.,Journal of Political Philosophy 15.1: 115-126 LaFollette, H. 2005. 'Living on a Slippery Slope', The Journal of Ethics, 9 (3-4), 475-99. Lansing, G. 2010. 'The Slippery Slope of Health Care Reform', The Foundry, 27 August. Available from: http://blog.heritage.org/2009/08/27/the-slippery-slope-of-health-care-reform/ [Accessed on 16 September 2010]. Leiter, B. 2002. 'American Legal Realism', U of Texas Law, Public Law Research Paper No. 42. Available at SSRN: http://ssrn.com/abstract=339562 or http://dx.doi.org/10.2139/ssrn.339562 Lode, E. .1999. 'Slippery Slope Arguments and Legal Reasoning', California Law Review, 86 (6), 1469-543. Lukes, S. 2005. Power: A Radical View, second edition. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Meinster, U., Finck, C., Stöbel-Richter, Y., Schmutzer, G. and Brähler, E. 2004. 'Knowledge and Attitudes towards Preimplantation Genetic Diagnosis in Germany', Journal of Human Reproduction, 20 (11), 231-8. Mouffe, C. 2000. The Democratic Paradox. London: Verso. Mouffe, C. 2005. The Return of the Political. London: Verso. 21 Nagel, T. 1987. 'Moral Conflict and Political Legitimacy', Philosophy and Public Affairs, 16 (3), 215-40. Newey, G. 2001. After Politics: The Rejection of Politics in Contemporary Liberal Political Philosophy. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Rawls, J. 1996. Political Liberalism, second edition. New York NY: Columbia University Press. Rossi, E. 2010. 'Reality and Imagination in Political Theory and Practice: On Raymond Geuss's Realism', European Journal of Political Theory 9 (4), 504-512. Rossi, E. 2013. 'Consensus, Compromise, Justice and Legitimacy'. Critical Review of Social and International Political Philosophy 16 (4), 557-572. Rossi, E. 2013. 'Legitimacy, Democracy and Public Justification: Rawls' Political Liberalism vs Gaus' Justificatory Liberalism'. Res Publica, DOI: 10.1007/s11158-013-9223-9 Rummens, Stefan 2009. 'Democracy as a Non‐Hegemonic Struggle? Disambiguating Chantal Mouffe's Agonistic Model of Politics', Constellations 16 (3), 377-391. Schauer, F. 1985. 'Slippery Slopes', Harvard Law Review, 99 (2), 361-83. Steiner, H. 1995. 'Persons of Lesser Value: Moral Argument and the 'Final Solution'', Journal of Applied Philosophy, 12 (2), 129-41. Talisse, R. 2009. Democracy and Moral Conflict. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Van der Burg, W. 1991. 'The Slippery Slope Argument', Ethics, 102 (1), 42-65. Volokh, E. 2003.'The Mechanisms of the Slippery Slope', Harvard Law Review, 116 (4), 1026137. Volokh, E. 2004. 'Same-Sex Marriage and Slippery Slopes', Hofstra Law Review, 33, 1155-201. 22 Walton, D. 1989 Informal Logic: A Handbook for Critical Argumentation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Walton, D. 1992. Slippery Slope Arguments. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Wessels, U. 1994. 'Genetic Engineering and Ethics in Germany', in A. Dyson and J. Harris (eds.), Ethics and Biotechnology. London: Routledge, pp. 230-58. Williams, B. 1985. 'Which Slopes Are Slippery?', in M. Lockwood (ed.), Moral Dilemmas in Modern Medicine. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 213-23. Williams, B. 2005. 'Realism and Moralism in Political Theory', in B. Williams (ed.), In the Beginning Was the Deed: Realism and Moralism in Political Argument, Princeton NJ: Princeton University Press, pp. 1-17. Williams, G. 1986. 'Euthanasia Legislation: A Rejoinder to the Nonreligious Objections', in T. A. Mappes and J. S. Zembaty (eds.), Biomedical Ethics. New York NY: McGraw-Hill, pp. 426-7. 23 NOTES 24 1 For a useful distinction between variants of agonism see Glover (2012), who correctly notes how Mouffe's agonism is more radical than that espoused by William Connolly or Bonnie Honig. Our argument applies more forcefully to Mouffe's position, given its radicalism. On this issue also see Fossen (2008) and Gürsözlü (2009). 2 Foot, 1977; Williams, 1986; Steiner, 1995; and Habermas, 2003 pointed out the relevance of empirical slippery slopes in public ethical discourse. 3'Rationale' should not be understood merely in terms of maximizing considerations (such as promotion of wellbeingand other values, or prudential protection of specific interests); it could also be constituted by deontological considerations (a group might, for example, maintain that it has an obligation to treat other groups in a certain way, irrespective of maximising considerations). 44 That is a simplified account. Political intentionality on the part of group B is not necessary. It may also be the case that group A just does not know what group B will do in the future. This would inform their judgment on what political decision should be supported or resisted. 55 Note how for agonists, drawing on citizens' 'total experiences' (rather than focusing on shared values and terms of debate) is necessary to channel passions towards a democratic design (Mouffe, 2005, p. 3). 66 Exploring the implications for this debate of the different relative weight of judicial precedent in civil law systems as opposed to common law systems would take us beyond the scope of this paper; our example-based discussion ranges over the differences between the two systems. For an insightful discussion of why and how slippery slopes 'flourish' in law (even) more than in other fields see Schauer, 1985. 77 Among the rulings quoted by Scalia: Williams v. Pryor, which upheld Alabamas's prohibition on the sale of sex toys; Milner V. Apfel , which asserted that 'legislatures are permitted to legislate with regard to morality...rather than confined to preventing demonstrable harms'; Holmes v. California Army National Guard, which upheld the federal statute and regulations banning from military service those who engage in homosexual conduct. 88 Agonists often point out that legalising political issues is one of the ways in which liberal democracy may stifle political discourse. However we believe that this perspective can be incorporated in our discussion so long as one takes a broadly realist view of law (with particular reference to American legal realism): despite the rhetoric surrounding them, judicial decisions inevitably reflects the moral and political views of the judges and jurors, so the judiciary should be considered participant in the political arena, rather than a sort of impartial referee. For an overview of this position see Leiter (2002). 99 Surveys show that a majority of the German population believe that the use of genetic diagnosis is acceptable for some very serious monogenetic diseases, but oppose other applications such as sex selection (Meinster et al., 2004). 1010 This mundane observation may be articulated through Steven Lukes' (2005) standard account of the nature of power. 1111 Our claim is not that all SS are at the advantage of conservative participants on the public debate. There are indeed cases in which progressive legislation is promoted via SS. 1212 This issue is similar to the one Volokh (2003, 51) terms 'slippery slope inefficiency'. A similar argument has also been advanced by Hugh LaFollette (2005). 1313 Of course the thought here is that sometimes those advancing the argument may oppose even the first step. But they advance the argument precisely because they know that most members of their society do not oppose it, but oppose further steps down the envisaged slope. 1414 'A related claim often advanced by those theorists is that the restrictions to the conduct of public discourse championed by 'moralistic' liberals cannot be justified on procedural or neutral grounds, and thus the normative commitment that inform those restrictions should enter the fray of the public forum, rather than be exempted from public scrutiny through their status as 'rules of the game' (Nagel 1987, p. 216). However, while Nagel's formulation expresses that worry very lucidly, he is a supporter of a version of deliberative democracy and, thus, of reasonable rather than agonistic pluralism. 1515 Here Forst refers to the position of Ronald Dworkin and Charles Larmore, themselves proponents of reasonable pluralism. 1616 For an overview on political realism see Galston (2010). 1717 Raymond Geuss (2008) cautions precisely against this sort of moralism in normative political theory. For a discussion of that position see [author's article].
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
http://philpapers.org/archive/ALIWSI.3.pdf 1 Why Shouldn't I Lie? Ten Preliminaries Shahrar Ali Abstract I introduce the reader to the character and complexity of lying, in terms of how the lie should be defined as a particular type of intentionally deceptive utterance, whether or not the deceiver succeeded in that aim, and examine how we might usefully avoid prejudging the justifiability of the lying utterance when compared to alternative forms of intentional deception and the overall outcome sought. he topic of lying and deception is a fascinating and far-reaching one, not just for academic reasons but also for its potential relevance to everyday life and situations. My opening question, Why Shouldn't I Lie?, is provocative for good reason. We typically suppose that lying is wrong, but should we not be permitted to lie in exceptional circumstances, or sometimes even required to lie? In this short introduction, I aim to uncover some important preliminaries and identify some key areas of contention. To lie is to assert contrary to that which one believes. As such, the deceiver sets up a dual expectation in the hearer or intended audience. Firstly, that he should want his audience to believe that p; and secondly that he should himself be taken to believe that p. Whether or not the deceiver should succeed in his deception does not tell against the fact that he lied; the lie is in the trying. For example, if the deceiver, unbeknownst to him, happened to be wrong about the matter about which he lied, so ended up telling the truth instead, that would not tell against the fact that he intended to deceive. We are often wrong about things we take ourselves to know, and some are more fallible than others; but still we can all lie. T 1. http://philpapers.org/archive/ALIWSI.3.pdf 2 Lying is a linguistic act of intentional deception, but there are other types of intentional deception. Non-lying linguistic deception achieves its end without resort to asserting contrary to that which one believes. Given the versatility of language and sophistication of context, a hearer can be duped by the deceiver when an inference is drawn, and could reliably have expected to be drawn, from an utterance that stops short of a lie. Suppose my partner is in the kitchen and you ask me whether she is in the bathroom or the garden. I reply that she is not in the bathroom, thereby making you believe (by inference) that she must be in the garden. Since only two options were given by the questioner and I denied only one of them, the hearer would be entitled to infer the other part of the disjunct was true, or at least taken to be so by me. Otherwise, I would have disclosed that relevant detail – unless, of course, I intended to deceive without resort to lying. But intentional deception can also be carried off without any utterance whatsoever. If I leave my packed bags outside for you to see, intending that you will draw the conclusion that I am going away, whereas nothing of the sort is the case, then I have intended to deceive you. But no utterance was required, only the fulfilment of an expectation in the mind of a passerby when observing a particular arrangement of bags in relation to a front door. These ways of classifying intentional deception – as a lying linguistic utterance, a non-lying linguistic utterance, or a non-lying non-linguistic misleading episode – should help us to clarify our intuitions about what the supposed wrongness of lying consists in. That is not to say that moral intuitions don't vary. In 'A Supposed Right to Lie from Benevolent Motives' (1797), Kant insists that we are duty bound to avoid lying to an assassin even though we do not wish to turn over to him a friend whom we are sheltering in the house. However, the explanation given by Kant is not that lying is intrinsically wrong, but that if we turned out to be wrong in our lie – such that the intended victim fled the scene and ended up crossing the path of the assassin we had sought to lead astray – then we could with justice be blamed for that occurrence. But isn't this rather a fantastical scenario? Shouldn't we rather be duty bound to do what is right, to deter the assassin, given the balance of probability that the intended victim is going to remain in the house? Perhaps, Kant would rather have conceded the need to deter the assassin, on the balance of probabilities, but without the resort to a lie? One could contrive a response in which one asserted, "He is not here," whilst simultaneously putting one's foot forward and hoping that the assassin did not cotton on the fact that one meant by "here" not the house but the spot under one's foot. This kind of contrivance is analogous to the Catholicist tradition of "mental reservation", by which an utterance is qualified in the mind of the hearer but not spoken out loud. But is this resort to intentional deception without resort to lying morally better than barefaced lying? To the contrary, if one took oneself to be justified in the deception, why then not used the most reliable resort to achieve that end, without risk of misconstrual of the literal meaning of the utterance by the assassin or through use of a qualifier? This is the outlook favoured by Henry Sidgwick in the Methods of Ethics (1874): "[I]t should be 2. 3. 4. http://philpapers.org/archive/ALIWSI.3.pdf 3 universally understood and expected that those who ask questions which they have no right to ask will have lies told to them." The foregoing consideration takes us to the heart of the matter regarding the justifiability or otherwise of lying. Benjamin Constant (1767-1830) and Hugo Grotius (1583-1645) say that it is permissible to make an intentional untruthful declaration to somebody when that person has no right to the truth, but that one does not lie in doing so. Instead Sidgwick would not deny that one had lied, but would simply classify it as a justifiable one. I agree that it is more instructive for us to define a lie in terms of asserting contrary to that which one believes, without prejudging whether or not one was justified in that, than to say that a lie is never justified or that a deceptive utterance to a murder who deserved to be misdirected cannot have been an instance of one. Other things being equal, e.g. in the reliability of effect, is it not still possible that lying is generally worse than non-lying linguistic deception as a means of intentional deception, when both are taken to be justified? The lack of moral equivalence here might result from an additional, consequential reason to do with the undermining of a linguistic practice that relied upon strict truth-telling for the conferment of all the benefits supported by that practice. This makes some sense, for if lying became too widespread, such that we could no longer count on truth-telling for the most part, then the justifiability of the lying utterance in a single case would be defeated by the deprivation of goods, objects and ends that were otherwise guaranteed when we were able to rely upon taking people at their word and only at their word (or nearly always). This is to recognise that lying can only work, and is most efficient, in a context of general truth-telling. In the same way that a serial liar becomes not to be believed in general, a culture of lying would negatively impact upon our ability to form and attain interpersonal goals. It can be argued, moreover, that lying is not even intrinsically bad in certain situations and contexts, in general, and that we are able to allow for this. Think, for example, of the white lie or the medicinal lie. The former is considered relatively inconsequential, an act of harmless flattery directed at your boss's tie or wife's necklace, for instance, when you actually find their attire somewhat garish. The latter may correspond to the desire of the doctor not to frustrate the prospect of recovery by concealing from his patient the full diagnosis, in order not to induce stress or anxiety which might itself inhibit progress. It could, however, be argued that these are not cases of lying being intrinsically allowed but rather consequentially justified in spite of their prima facie wrongness. Aren't there further reasons, of a moral sort, for us to want to discourage lying in general? Joseph Kupfer in 'The Moral Presumption against Lying' (1982) develops a two-part theory, which I think chimes well with our intuitions. Firstly, when we intentionally deceive, and succeed in this aim, we are generally seeking to get the deceived to conform to our will or plans when he wouldn't have had he been availed of the truth, or at least our reckoning of it. Kupfer says, "The first inherent disvalue is the immediate restriction of the deceived's freedom." Is it not quite 5. 6. 7. 8. http://philpapers.org/archive/ALIWSI.3.pdf 4 correct to say that our taking exception to being on the receiving end of intentional deception has to do with being treated solely as a means, and not at the same time as an end in itself? Even if one might have consented to the plan of the deceiver, voluntarily, that opportunity has not been given, but denied. Secondly, there are harms associated with the act of lying for the deceiver, which if lying became habitual, would damage the integration of his character. Kupfer says, "The second inherent disvalue found in lying is the self-opposition or internal conflict involved in speaking what one disbelieves." Time to test our preliminary assumptions by encouraging reflection on a couple of high profile examples from recent political history. When Clinton was questioned over his affair with Lewinsky for the presumed sake of upholding the dignity of the office of the President of the US, should we not question the means which was used to hold him to account? Whatever the rights or wrongs of Clinton's extra-marital misdemeanour, should he not have been spared that very public – on global, live television – interrogation of his private life? In the event, by answering, "I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Monica Lewinsky," did not Clinton answer as ingenuously as he found fit? Firstly, he arguably did not lie, for he neither affirmed nor denied having extra-marital sex, but he did choose (notoriously) to use terms to express his denial which resulted in extensive debate about what he actually did mean, for example, that it was not a serious relationship and nor was it, therefore, a sexual relationship either. Certainly, his answer may be found evasive and multiply interpretable, but therein lies another interesting feature. For those who might have taken themselves to have already known, or subsequently found out what they wanted to find out, but arguably had no right to know, then Clinton left them with license to construe his remarks consistent with that finding. Yet for those who might have taken themselves to have no business in questioning Clinton over his sex life, they could have construed it as charitably as they saw fit. Clinton could thus have reconciled his external statement with a private interpretation that was internally consistent with what he knew, whilst avoiding the mental conflict associated with the barefaced lie. Finally, item ten, the subject of what happened in 10 Downing Street in the build-up to the Iraq war. In February 2003, Colin Powell presented a UK intelligence briefing to the UN as authoritative "facts and conclusions based on solid intelligence". However, this briefing, whilst credited to the UK intelligence services, was subsequently discovered to have been plagiarised, in large part, from a PhD thesis, and, moreover, contained key phrases changed to make for more sinister reading. What kind of deception does plagiarism consist of? Clearly, this was an instance of lying deception, since the withholding of proper sources, whilst claiming another, is falsification of the true authority of the report and its provenance, disclosure of which would have damaged its credibility, and could have known to have. The utterances in this case were linguistic, on the printed page, and designed to support a highly controversial pretext for going to war. Blair himself, when questioned on TV, answered tellingly, "Even if I'm the only person left saying it, I'm going to say it... I may be wrong in believing it, but I do believe it." (BBC, 6 Feb 2003) Unfortunately, such an admission only betrayed an unpreparedness to counsel 9. 10. http://philpapers.org/archive/ALIWSI.3.pdf 5 evidence that would probably defeat Blair's preferred judgment. We don't generally admit to the possibility of our beliefs failing to track the truth in the way Blair did here, unashamedly. For sure, we could be wrong, but we want to make sure, on such a consequential matter, that we take in all relevant considerations and evidence, that we test our assumptions and prior reasoning, to arrive at the best conclusion, even if that meant overturning our deeply held conviction. To do otherwise would be to risk going to war on a false pretext in spite of contrary indications aplenty. None of this is to doubt Blair's sincerity, but it is to question whether he was acting in denial, by leaving himself culpably ignorant (and therefore to question the value of sincerity). There's more to honesty than sincerity; and more to telling the truth than by not lying. But therein lies further intrigue, for another time. hope to have given some helpful introduction to the character and complexity of lying, in terms of how the lie should be defined as a particular type of intentionally deceptive utterance, whether or not the deceiver succeeded in that aim, and how we might usefully avoid prejudging the justifiability of the lying utterance when compared to alternative forms of intentional deception and the overall outcome sought, perhaps under duress. We then found greater reason to despair of the utterances of Blair in going to war than Clinton in cheating on his wife. Perhaps had they both lied we would have better known where we stood with them? Acknowledgments This article first appeared in Ethical Record, Vol. 116, No. 10 (Nov 2011), 6-10, and summarises talks given in London at Philosophy for All on 3 Feb 2010 and the South Place Ethical Society on 23 Oct 2011. I am grateful to audience participants for provoking excellent discussion. I also especially thank Mirjana. References Ali, Shahrar (2004), 'Making as if to Stand behind one's Words: A theory of intentional deception and Lying', PhD thesis, University of London. Ali, Shahrar (2010), Why Vote Green (Biteback). Contains useful discussion of standards in political life and propaganda in war. Kant, Immanuel (1797), 'A Supposed Right to Lie from Altruistic Motives', in Critique of Practical Reason and Other Writings in Moral Philosophy, ed. and trans. Lewis White Beck (University of Chicago Press, 1949), 346-50. Kupfer, Joseph (1982), 'The Moral Presumption Against Lying', Review of Metaphysics 1982 (36), 103-126. On-line documents newsmax.com, 'Text of Clinton's Answers to Questions Posed by the House Judiciary Committee', 27 Nov 1998 meria.idc.ac.il, MERIA, Vol. 6, No. 3 (Sept 2002), 1-13. number-10.gov.uk (accessed 2003) or www.fas.org/irp/world/iraq/uk0103.pdf (accessed 2011), 'Iraq – Its Infrastructure of Concealment, Deception and Intimidation' I
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Contextualism about Epistemic Reasons 1 Daniel Fogal and Kurt Sylvan 1 Introduction Ordinary talk is rife with claims about epistemic reasons. Consider, for example: 'There's no reason to think Yetis exist.' 'We have a reason to believe your account was accessed by a third party.' 'The dark clouds approaching are a reason to think it will rain.' We will call sentences like these 'normative epistemic reasons ascriptions' ('ERAs' for short), since they are used to ascribe or deny reasons that normatively support beliefs. For simplicity, we will focus on unmodified ERAs like those above; talk of 'good'/'bad' reasons, 'strong'/'weak' reasons, etc., introduces further complexities. Normative reasons are standardly contrasted with explanatory and operative reasons. Perhaps the reason why Smith thinks he will never get a job is that he is depressed- this is an explanatory reason. But the fact that he is depressed needn't be his reason for so believing-i.e., it needn't be an operative reason for him. We aren't directly concerned with these kinds of reasons. The line between different 'kinds' of reasons isn't perfectly sharp, however, and it's common to take all reasons-including normative reasons-to be essentially explanatory in nature. What distinguishes normative reasons from the rest is partly a matter of the kind of explanation involved-mere explanatory reasons are typically causal, while normative reasons are not-and partly a matter of their explanandum- what normative reasons help explain are normative facts. Which normative facts? Three main candidates have been defended. According to the first, for r to be a normative reason for an agent S to A (where A is some action or attitude) is for r to play a certain role in explaining why S ought to A (Broome 2004, 2013). According to the second, for r to be a normative reason for S to A is for r to play a certain role in explaining why it would be good for S to A (Finlay 2014). And according to the third, for r to be a normative reason for S to A is for r to play a certain role in explaining why there is reason (mass noun) for S to A (Fogal 2016). Evidence for third option will be provided below. The main goal in what follows is to survey some ways in which ERAs appear to be context-sensitive, and to outline a framework for thinking about the nature of this context-sensitivity that is intimately related to their explanatory function. These Forthcoming in The Routledge Handbook to Epistemic Contextualism, ed. Jonathan Jenkins 1 Ichikawa. Thanks to Jonathan Shaheen and Justin Snedegar for helpful comments. 1 are the main tasks of §2-3. We won't pretend to have covered all forms of apparent context-sensitivity, nor to have settled the question of their nature and source. Surprisingly little work has been done on ERAs, despite the fact that ERAs strike us as more promising candidates for contextualist treatment than knowledge ascriptions. Our primary aim is thus to bring increased attention to an underexplored issue. 2 Data In this section, we highlight several ways in which ERAs appear to be context-sensitive. To maintain neutrality between pragmatic and semantic explanations of such appearances, the initial judgments (or 'data') we consider are not presented as directly concerning the truth conditions of ERAs. Instead, they concern their acceptability conditions-roughly, the circumstances in which it is acceptable for a competent speaker who knows all the relevant non-semantic facts to use the ERAs. 2.1 Sensitivity to Relevant Alternatives Some apparent contextual variability in the acceptability of ERAs is triggered by changes in which alternative hypotheses are relevant in the conversational context (Dretske 1970, Stine 1976). Consider a relatively ordinary context in which we are asked whether some animal in a picture is a zebra. In such a context, it would be acceptable to say: (1) The fact that it is striped is a reason to believe it is a zebra. But now consider a context in which the possibility that the animal is a cleverly disguised mule-one with painted stripes, etc.-is being seriously entertained. In that context, (1) would be significantly less acceptable-so much so that its negation (2) seems OK: (2) The fact that it is striped is not a reason to believe it is a zebra. The acceptability of ERAs thus appears to be sensitive to which alternative hypotheses are contextually relevant. In particular, such patterns suggest that a claim of the form 'p is a reason to believe q' will be acceptable in a context c only when it is true that (Alt) p is a reason to believe q rather than ri, where ri are the relevant alternative hypotheses to q in c. 2 Epistemic contextualism in its earliest form was closely related to such a view. 2 While the debate between Stine and Dretske focused on 'knows', both made analogous claims about 'reason(s)'. More recent elaborations of this idea in the literature on ERAs tend to fall under the heading of 'contrastivism', with contrastivists arguing that the reason(s)-relation has an extra argument place for relevant alternatives, or 'contrasts', an argument place filled by context but phonologically null (SinnottArmstrong 2008; Snedegar 2013a, 2015). The status of this view depends in part on what relevance amounts to, and how it is determined. If the relevance of an alternative is determined solely by facts about the subject of the ERA-say, by facts about their mental states, evidence, or situation more generally-then no support accrues for contextualism, since the relevant alternatives wouldn't vary across conversational contexts. If, on the other hand, the relevance of an alternative is determined partly by facts about the speaker, then (some form of) contextualism would follow, since the relevant alternatives could vary with the speaker across contexts. There are other possible explanations of the data involving (1). In particular, one might think that the relevant version of (Alt), along with various other natural strengthenings of (1)-e.g., the claim that the stripes are a strong or weighty reason to believe that the animal is a zebra-are merely pragmatically conveyed (Schroeder 2007). On this view, even if an utterance of (1) might pragmatically convey something false in a context in which the possibility of the animal being a cleverly disguised mule is entertained, the proposition semantically expressed by (1) is true: the fact that the animal is striped is a reason to believe that it is a zebra, even though it may not be a decisive or even a particularly good reason, and even though it may not be a reason to believe that it is a zebra rather than a cleverly disguised mule. As evidence of their 'merely' pragmatic status, one might point out that many such strengthenings appear to be cancellable. For example, in the original context one might utter (1) and then continue: 'Of course, it's hardly decisive-perhaps it's just a cleverly disguised mule.' Similarly, in the second context one might utter (1) and then continue: 'I realize, though, that the stripes are just as much a reason to believe it is a cleverly disguised mule-I don't mean to rule that possibility out.' Even if we can explain why, despite being true, (1) is unacceptable in a context where the cleverly disguised mule possibility is entertained, it remains to be explained why (2) is acceptable despite being false (cf. Snedegar 2013b). The unacceptability of (1) despite its truth was traced to the unacceptability of what was pragmatically conveyed. Analogously, we might try to explain the acceptability of (2) in such a context by appealing to the acceptability of what it would pragmatically convey- e.g. the fact that it is striped is not a sufficiently good reason to believe that it is a zebra, or is not a reason to believe that it is a zebra rather than a cleverly disguised mule. Dretske (1970) discusses pro tanto reasons talk; Dretske (1971) discusses overall reasons 2 talk. Dretske (1972) contains a seminal discussion of contrastive statements in general, including ones concerning explanatory reasons. 3 Alternatively, one might think (2) is acceptable when seemingly false only if 'not' is interpreted metalinguistically, in which case (2) wouldn't actually be false (cf. Horn 1989). In particular, a metalinguistic use of 'not' might have the effect of saying that the fact that it is striped shouldn't count or be considered as a reason to believe that it is a zebra in the relevant context-perhaps, again, because it's not sufficiently good, or doesn't bear on the question of whether it's a zebra or instead a cleverly disguised mule. Assuming utterances of (1) and/or (2) would normally pragmatically convey something of the form of (Alt), there remains the question of how that happens- i.e., what pragmatic 'mechanism' is underwriting the process. Here a variety of stories might be told. For example, one might think that the relevant instance of (Alt) has the status of a conversational implicature. For in normal contexts it will fairly clear which alternatives are relevant, with one of the conversational goals being to decide between them. If so, then it would be pointless to utter (1) unless one also wanted to communicate something (Alt)-like (cf. Grice's Maxim of Quantity), and although one could make an explicitly contrastive claim instead of uttering (1), doing so would be needlessly verbose (cf. Grice's Maxim of Manner). Another possibility would be to claim that (1) can be used to directly but implicitly communicate what utterances taking the form of (Alt) explicitly communicate, as the result of a process of so-called 'pragmatic enrichment' (cf. Sperber and Wilson 1986/1996, Bach 1994, Recanti 2004). For more on the similarities and differences between conversational implicature and various forms of pragmatic enrichment, see Chapters 16 and 37. Alternative semantics provides another way to explain how (1) might be used to communicate something (Alt)-like. According to alternative semantics, the general function of focus is to evoke alternatives, and an additional semantic value for each sentence is posited to accommodate this fact (Rooth 1992). Sentences therefore come with both ordinary semantic values and focus semantic values, with the latter consisting of a set of alternatives. As Rooth (1996) notes, The basic idea [can] be illustrated with the question-answer paradigm. The question [does Ede want tea or coffee?] determines the basic answers "Ede wants tea" and "Ede wants coffee". Similarly, focus in the answer [Ede wants [coffee]F] indicates that propositions obtained by making substitutions in the position of the focused phrase-propositions of the form "Ede wants y"-are alternatives to the actual answer. Congruence is simply a matter of the question and answer characterizing the answer set consistently. On this view, a sentence like (1) will thus have a focus semantic value in addition to its ordinary semantic value, with the former depending on which phrase is focused. The sentence [The fact that it is striped is a reason to believe it is a [zebra]F], for example, will have as its focus semantic value the set of propositions of the form "The fact that it is striped is a reason to believe it is a X", with possible values of X being contextually constrained. 4 2.2. Sensitivity to Questions A related kind of apparent context-sensitivity is connected to the explanatory nature of reasons ascriptions. As many have observed, it seems a truism that reasons-ascriptions-and explanations more generally-are answers to 'why'-questions (cf. Hempel 1965, Bromberger 1966, van Fraassen 1980, Jenkins 2008). The questions 3 ERAs answer concern why certain normative facts obtain. On this picture, one would expect the acceptability of ERAs to be sensitive to the question(s) under discussion, which may vary contextually. To illustrate, consider a general theory (e.g. nominalism about properties) with its specific variants (e.g., trope theory and predicate nominalism), and to which there is a general alternative (e.g., realism about universals). Suppose the following questions interest us: (Q1) Why believe trope theory rather than realism about universals? (Q2) Why believe trope theory rather than predicate nominalism? If we focus on (Q1), the following claim seems acceptable: (3) The fact that trope theory provides a parsimonious ontology is a reason to believe it. But if we instead focus on (Q2), (3) seems significantly less acceptable-after all, trope theory and predicate nominalism are similarly parsimonious. It's a further question whether (3) is false in such a context. We thus face a similar range of choices as above in offering a semantic and/or pragmatic explanation of the context-sensitivity. It's worth noting that (Q1) and (Q2) are normative or deliberative questions. They concern why we should believe something, and the facts appropriately cited as reasons in response to them help settle the relevant question. Often, however, the questions that interest us aren't normative. How then should we interpret ERAs in contexts in which normative questions aren't under discussion, even implicitly? 4 Although space precludes detailed discussion, we doubt there are such contexts. Suppose, for example, that I ask you whether our neighbor Jim is home. You look across the street and see his car in the driveway. You then say, 'Well, I'm not sure, but the fact that his car is in the driveway is a reason to think he's home'. This response fails to answer the original question concerning Jim's location, but it's not completely irrelevant. Instead, you opt out of answering the original question by expressing uncertainty concerning the correct answer and seek to provide the next best These answers may only be partial, rather than full, and merely possible, rather than actual.3 Thanks to Justin Snedegar for raising this issue.4 5 thing-namely, information relevant to answering the question. Here the question 5 is theoretical, and information relevant to it will typically take the form of evidence concerning the truth or falsity of possible answers. In other words, it will take the form of reasons to believe one answer rather another. Given your inability to answer the original, non-normative question-namely, whether Jim is home-the natural thing to do is to pivot and provide an answer to a related, normative one-namely, whether there is any reason to think Jim is home (and if so, why). We think something like this is true in general when we use ERAs in answering seemingly nonnormative questions. Assuming the acceptability of ERAs is indeed sensitive to the question(s) under discussion, there's a further issue concerning whether it's distinct from sensitivity to relevant alternatives. It's standard in semantics, for example, to treat questions as presenting sets of alternatives, or possible answers. If so, then the question-sensitivity of ERAs would amount to sensitivity to relevant alternatives. This form of relevant alternatives contextualism would have the advantage of being able to draw from, and build on, the active and ongoing research program in formal semantics and pragmatics concerning the question under discussion, along with many other ways in which information in a discourse can be structured (see, e.g., Roberts 2012a,b). 2.3. Sensitivity to Information Changes in which body of information is relevant provide another example of how the acceptability of ERAs appears to vary depending on the context of utterance (cf. Cohen 1986). Indeed, there is growing recognition that the familiar (and not necessarily binary) distinction between more 'objective' and more 'subjective' readings of claims concerning normative reasons for action extends to ERAs (cf. Schroeder 2008, 2011, 2015). 6 Suppose Jones is a detective at the scene of a crime who stumbles across evidence that implicates Smith, a notorious criminal, though Jones lacks information needed to connect the dots. And imagine Jane, another detective, has the same inIndeed, as Jonathan Shaheen (p.c.) notes, the hesitation marker 'well' is often used to sig5 nal that you are doing something other than providing a complete answer to a question. One common way of drawing the distinction is in terms of the reasons there are for some 6 agent S to A (so-called "objective reasons") and the reasons S has to A (so-called "subjective reasons"). Although we grant that there is an important distinction in the vicinity, there are many complications concerning how such a distinction is to be understood, and how (if at all) it manifests itself in ordinary thought and talk. It seems doubtful the distinction is encoded in natural language-talk of reasons 'there are' and reasons 'had' is (for the most part) interchangeable. See Saebø's (2009) for a semantic analysis of 'have'-sentences that predicts and explains their interchangeability with 'there is'-sentences. For a possible complication concerning this equivalence, see Broome (2013: 65). 6 formation as Jones. Jones wonders aloud whether Smith is culprit. Turning to Jones, Jane says: (4) Perhaps-but as of now we don't have a single reason to believe that he did it. Smith, meanwhile, overhears Jane's claim-he has a habit of lurking around crime scenes in disguise-and mutters to himself: (5) Ha! They do have a reason to believe I did it, though they'll never appreciate it. Assuming both (4) and (5) are acceptable, one might take this as evidence that ERAs are always relativized-if only implicitly-to bodies of information, and that which body of information is relevant may vary between contexts, and perhaps even within a context. On this view, (4) might express the proposition that relative to the information actually possessed by the detectives, the detectives lack a reason to believe Smith committed the crime. (5), by contrast, might express the proposition that relative to some enhanced body of information, the detectives have a reason to believe that Smith committed the crime. This yields a view on which ERAs are information-sensitive in much the way modals like 'ought' are thought to be. 7 Henning (2014) pursues the apparent analogy between 'reason(s)' and 'ought', arguing that claims of the form 'r is a reason for S to believe that p' can be used to communicate an indefinite number of propositions of the form (*) Relative to body of information i, r is a reason for S to believe that p. According to Henning, any body of information can, in principle, determine the value of the parameter i. Candidates include the following: i. The information possessed by some relevant individual. ii. The information possessed by some relevant group or community. iii. The information easily-accessible-in-principle by some relevant individual or group. iv. All the information in the world. Cf., e.g., Kolodny and MacFarlane (2010) and Dowell (2011). Another parallel with deontic 7 modals arises if we consider the much-discussed mineshafts case, where a miner lacking full information seemingly acceptably utters 'I ought to block neither shaft', and someone with more information says 'No, you ought to block shaft A'. Many philosophers assume the two disagree. A parallel claim might be made about Jane and Smith when they utter (4) and (5) -a parallel that would be strengthened if Smith's remark were prefaced by 'That's false...' This might suggest that ERAs are sensitive to the context of assessment (cf. MacFarlane 2014). The data surrounding cases of apparent disagreement is more complicated than commonly thought, however-see Chapter 20. 7 Those wishing to defend invariantism about ERAs in the face of data concerning information-sensitivity face a challenge like those wishing to defend invariantism about modals. We cannot discuss those challenges in depth, but we suspect it will 8 be an uphill battle. 2.4. Sensitivity to Standards and Thresholds A consideration r can be a reason to believe p even if r doesn't entail p. Indeed, it often seems sufficient that r raises p's probability to some degree. To what degree, however, must r raise the probability of p in order to count as a reason for believing p? One might think there's no fixed answer to this question, and that ERAs can be true or false in different contexts depending on the stringency of the relevant threshold or standard. Consider, for example, a claim like the following: (6) Lena has a reason to think John was at work today-she saw his coat and hat hanging outside his office door. In a causal discussion at a tavern, (6) might be perfectly acceptable. But when being interviewed by a detective trying to determine whether John was at the scene of the crime, it might not be. Such a contrast, insofar as it exists, could be taken as a re9 flection of different standards being operative in the two contexts. In the first context, for example, in order for r to count as a reason to believe p, perhaps r just needs to increase the probability of p to some degree or other, whereas in the second context perhaps r needs to substantially increase the probability of p. Alternatively, such a contrast may be susceptible to a pragmatic explanation. It's plausible, for example, that (6) would normally be used to communicate something more than the mere fact that Lena has a reason to believe John was at work, and what that reason is. In particular, it would be used to communicate something (via either conversational implicature or pragmatic enrichment) about the strength of Lena's reason-namely, that is was a relatively strong reason. And it is unsurprising that what counts as a 'strong' reason can vary between contexts depending on the operative standards (and, at least indirectly, stakes), since gradable adjectives like 'strong' are plausibly context-sensitive in just this way (cf. Stanley 2005; Kennedy 2007). So even if talk of reason(s) per se isn't sensitive to standards or thresholds, talk of strong/weak/good/ bad reasons will be. Standards-sensitivity figured prominently in early discussions of contextualism. Stine (1976)'s view, for example, was doubly contextualist. She was a relevant alternatives contextualist about knowledge ascriptions, but her preferred account of relevance was understood in terms of epistemic reason(s)-according to her 'an alternative is relevant only if there is some reason to think that it is true' (252). But Stine For a recent overview, see Bronfman and Dowell (forthcoming).8 Cf. DeRose (2009: 4-5).9 8 also embraced a standards-relative contextualism about ERAs, arguing that the context-sensitivity of knowledge ascriptions is directly mirrored by the fact that we have different standards for judging that there is some reason to think an alternative is true, i.e., relevant. We can point out that some philosophers are very perverse in their standards (by some extreme standard, there is some reason to think there is an evil genius, after all)... [and] in fact they have played on an essential feature of the concept. (254) What might such an 'extreme' standard-one relative to which there is some reason to think there is an evil genius-look like? There are various possibilities. For example, one might operate with a standard according to which r is a reason to believe p if (but not necessarily only if) r's being true would explain p. Assuming the existence of the relevant evil genius would explain the fact that I have the perceptual experiences that I do (among other things), it might then be acceptable to utter the following: (7) There is a reason to think there is an evil genius. 10 One might then think that although the proposition expressed by (7) is true in contexts like the one just envisaged, in normal contexts-i.e. when a different standard is operative-it is false. Alternatively, one might think the proposition expressed by (7) is true in normal contexts as well, with its unacceptability being explained by familiar pragmatic means. 2.5. Reasons and Background Conditions Two further kinds of apparent context-sensitivity in ERAs parallel kinds of contextsensitivity in causal talk. Firstly, as with causal talk, what is most naturally cited as a reason and what is treated as a mere 'background' condition seems contextually variable. Consider a match being struck in an oxygenated environment and lighting. Although some might claim that only the striking of the match is a (or 'the') cause of the fire-with the oxygen merely being a background condition-there are contexts in which the underlying metaphysics remains the same and yet what we're inclined to count as a (or the) cause changes. Imagine that the match is being repeatedly struck in a vacuum when oxygen suddenly rushes in, or that we are aliens from an oxygen-deficient planet observing the striking from afar (cf. Putnam 1982). Here it would be natural for the presence of oxygen to be cited as a cause, and not merely a background condition. It's plausible to view this contextual variability as a form of information-sensitivity, where what varies between contexts is not which body of information is releIt may help to imagine a continuation of (7) that explicitly cancels any implication of 10 strength-e.g. '...though it's not a very good reason'. (Cf. Schroeder 2007) 9 vant per se but instead which parts of that information are taken for granted or held fixed for the purposes of communication, and which parts are highlighted or viewed as especially noteworthy. This isn't to deny that there are meaningful distinctions to be drawn between different metaphysical roles that certain facts or events may play in explaining other facts or events. But it is to deny that ordinary language reliably tracks such distinctions. Differences in communicative relevance needn't reflect differences in metaphysical significance. The same dialectical situation arises with respect to ERAs. Imagine a world, for example, in which only smokers with gene X get cancer, with an incident rate of 40%. Imagine further that the world is divided into two isolated populations, P1 and P2. In P1, it is common knowledge that most people have gene X but few people smoke. In P2, it is common knowledge that few people have gene X but most people smoke. Now, imagine the following possible answers to the question of what reasons there are to think that a given person will get cancer: (8) The fact that a person smokes is a reason to think she will get cancer. (9) The fact that a person has gene X is a reason to think she will get cancer. The acceptability of these claims will likely vary depending on the population. In particular, (8) will be significantly more acceptable than (9) in P1 while in P2 the reverse pattern will hold. As before, it's plausible to view this as a form of information-sensitivity, since the only relevant differences between the populations concern the information at their disposal. But just because it's more natural to cite one fact rather than the other in a particular context needn't reflect a difference in epistemological significance. Differences in communicative relevance needn't reflect differences in epistemological significance any more than they reflect differences in metaphysical significance. 11 2.6. Reasons as Representatives There is a second parallel between causal claims and ERAs that one of us has explored elsewhere (Fogal 2016). In response to the fact that what we're inclined to cite as 'the cause' of an event varies greatly from context to context, Lewis (1973) famously remarked: I have nothing to say about these principles of invidious discrimination. I am concerned with the prior question of what it is to be one of the causes (unselectively Jonathan Shaheen (p.c.) notes that this can be reinforced by finding a context involving 11 members of P1 in which something like (9) is acceptable. Consider, for example, the following exchange: A: I know Jane smokes, unlike everybody else around here, but I really didn't think she'd get cancer. B: Me neither. But as you know Jane has gene X, and that is a reason to have thought she would get cancer. 10 speaking). My analysis is meant to capture a broad and nondiscriminatory concept of causation. (559) However, as Swanson (2010, 2012) argues, a similarly 'invidious' contextual variability infects our judgments involving 'a cause' or 'one of the causes', and failure to appreciate it has led subsequent theorizing astray. According to Swanson, the events we cite as causes function as "representatives" of the causal chains leading them to the effect; as a result, whether a given causal claim is acceptable partly depends on what else has been cited as a cause (and hence used as a representative) in the context. The acceptability of ERAs appears to exhibit the very same sort of variability. To illustrate, suppose Candice looks through a window and sees a room filled with smoke. In explaining what grounds she has to believe there's a fire you might say either of the following: (10) That fact that she sees smoke is a reason for Candice to believe there's a fire. (11) The fact that smoke is a sign of fire is a reason for Candice to believe there's a fire. But it would be unacceptable to say any of (12) #The fact that she sees smoke is a reason for Candice to believe there's a fire, and so is the fact that smoke is a sign of fire. (13) #The fact that she sees smoke and the fact that smoke is a sign of fire are both reasons for Candice to believe there's a fire. (14) #Candice sees smoke and knows that smoke is a sign of fire, so she has two reasons to believe there's a fire. ERAs like (12)-(14) seem guilty of double-counting. What this shows-assuming the above pattern of judgments generalizes-is that the facts we usually cite as reasons are not themselves sources of epistemic support. Instead, they function communicatively as representatives of a larger cluster of facts that together (and only together) provide such support. What can be appropriately cited as a reason in a given context will thus partly depend on what else we've cited as a reason, since citing one fact as a reason-and hence as a representative of a given cluster-robs other facts belonging to that cluster of the representative role they might have played. This reinforces the point that we should be wary of assigning undue significance to the facts we cite as reasons in using ERAs. It's doubtful that the sight of smoke is epistemically relevant in a way that the known connection between smoke and fire is not, and arguably it's only in virtue of both taken together that Candice has reason to believe there's a fire. The facts we ordinarily cite as reasons don't themselves play a privileged epistemic role. It's debatable whether the representative-like role facts cited as reasons is merely pragmatic or instead partly semantic. One might think (12)-(14) are defective solely in virtue of being pointless, irrelevant, misleading in virtue of generating a 11 false implicature, etc., despite being true. Note, however, that there don't appear to be continuations of (12)-(14) in the relevant context that cancel or eliminate their infelicity, contrary to what one might expect if their defectiveness was purely pragmatic. Instead, their defectiveness seems more akin to that involved in certain cases of presupposition failure, which is often treated as a partly semantic phenomenon. 12 3 Reasons and Explanation The analogies between reasons talk and causal talk run deep. The similarities become less surprising once it's realized that claims about reasons and about causes are both explanatory claims, and essentially so. That is, they are claims the point of which is to explain why things (facts, states, events, whatever) are the way they are, rather than merely report how things are. This point of commonality is controversial, but not without precedent. Here is Strevens (2007), for example, on the explanatory nature of causal claims: ...the role of causal claims in science and everyday life is not to express basic metaphysical facts about causal connections, but rather to extract from the basic causal facts an understanding of how causal connections work together to bring about certain states of affairs. The question of the meaning of causal claims turns out to be less a question about metaphysics, then, and more a question about understanding or explanation...[it has] been an error-a major and pervasive error-for causal metaphysicians to have focused so great a part of their energies on causal claims. (107) We think an analogous point holds with respect to ERAs, since reasons help to explain normative facts. Which normative facts do reasons help explain? In the introduction we noted that there have been three main proposals, and that our sympathies are with the third-that for r to be a reason (count noun) for S to A is for r to help explain why there is reason (mass noun) for S to A. To bring out the essentially explanatory nature of ERAs, it will help to say more. Intuitively, count nouns denote (classes of) 'things' that are countable, and hence can occur with cardinal numerals ('one', 'two', 'three'...) and take plural form (-s), while mass nouns denote 'stuff ' that's not countable, and hence do not occur with cardinal numerals and are generally singular or unmarked. There's a lot to be said about the mass/count distinction, but what matters most is that 'reason' in its normative sense is regularly used both ways. Superlative and comparative claims concerning what one has most or more reason to do, for example, are commonplace and obviously not equivalent to the corresponding superlative and comparative claims concerning what one has most or more reasons to do. The same goes for quantitative judgments concerning how much reason there is, whether there is enough reason, and so on. 'Reason' is hardly unique in being used as both a mass noun and a For an introduction to presupposition (and its failure), see Beaver and Geurts (2014).12 12 count noun; indeed, it is common for nouns in languages with mass-count syntax to be used both ways, and there are well-established patterns underlying such alternations. This raises a question about the relationship between mass and count uses of 'reason'. Although space precludes detailed discussion, the relationship is plausibly the same as that which holds between mass and count uses of 'pleasure', 'sorrow', and 'light' (see Fogal 2016). Just as pleasures are sources of pleasure, sorrows are sources of sorrow, and lights are sources of light, so normative reasons are "sources" (or grounds) of normative reason-i.e., they are sources of normative support. Importantly, however, there's an explanatory asymmetry involved: in each case the 'things' denoted by the count noun (pleasures, lights, reasons) are functionally defined in terms of the role they play in explaining the "stuff" denoted by the mass noun (pleasure, light, reason), rather than vice versa. So just as it would be a mistake to analyze pleasure in terms of pleasures, or light in terms of lights, so it would be a mistake to analyze reason in terms of reasons. Instead, we should analyze normative reasons in terms of reason (i.e. normative support): reasons to φ are things which play a certain role in explaining why there is reason to φ. This view readily explains why (3), reprinted from above, is intuitively equivalent to (3')-(3''): (3) The dark clouds approaching are a reason to think it will rain. (3') The dark clouds approaching give us reason to think it will rain. (3'') There are dark clouds approaching, and that's why there is reason to believe it'll rain. Notice that the fact cited as a reason in (3) is cited as that which explains why there is (mass-y) reason in (3')-(3''). It's hence plausible to view claims about normative reasons as inherently explanatory. Given that ordinary explanatory claims are widely agreed to be context-sensitive, it's only to be expected that ERAs-and reasons ascriptions in general-are context-sensitive, and in much the same way. We can profitably 13 understand the question-sensitivity and information-sensitivity of ERAs as symptoms of this fact, since explanatory claims are sensitive to both. None of this directly settles the matter concerning the precise nature of the context sensitivity at issue with ERAs, or how best to model it as part of a serious semantic theory. These remain open questions. Schaffer (2012) makes a similar point concerning the context-sensitivity of causal claims, concluding his survey by arguing not only that "we do not yet have a clear understanding of context sensitivity as it arises for causal claims", but also that this is "everyone's problem" (55). We think the same is true of the context-sensitivity of ERAs, and reasons claims more generally. The good news is that there is a clear direction for research, at least on the assumption that the context-sensitivity of ERAs is an instance of the context-sensitivity of explanatory claims more generally: to better understand the semantics and pragmatics of the former, we need to better understand the semantics and pragmatics of This is after possible ambiguity is controlled for-see, e.g. Shaheen (forthcoming).13 13 the latter. Despite the controversies that have plagued debates about explanation and our explanatory practice over the past few decades, genuine progress has been made, and we should expect many of the lessons learned in the debates over causal and scientific explanation to carry over to normative explanation, and locutions used to provide such explanations. However, philosophers interested in explanation 14 rarely try to provide semantically sophisticated analyses of explanatory terms themselves, or integrate their accounts into a larger semantic framework. This is per15 haps unsurprising-the information-sensitivity of explanatory claims is deep and pervasive, and so it is only to be expected that natural language evolved in such a way that sentences containing explanatory locutions are always evaluated relative to both a question and an informational background, without there being any simple rules governing such relationships. This is in sharp contrast to the rules governing indexicals like 'I'. There nonetheless remains much interesting and important work to do by philosophers and linguists alike in better understanding our explanatory practice as well as the variety of different locutions we use in the service of providing explanations, such as ERAs. 4 Conclusion While hard work remains, there is much to be said in favor of contextualism about ERAs. This matters. Given the variety of challenges confronting contextualism about knowledge ascriptions (cf. Stanley 2005; see also Chapters 25, 27, and 25), one might be forgiven for thinking that contextualism in epistemology more generally is implausible. But there is a lot more to epistemic language than 'knows', and careful examination of the linguistic evidence in other cases-such as ERAs-encourages revival of the contextualist project. There are many important disanalogies between 'reason(s)' and 'know(s)'. This includes the fact that unlike 'knows', 'reason' is gradable when used as a mass noun (there can be more or less reason to φ) and is conceptually linked with a scale of normative strength or weight even when used a count noun (some reasons are better/worse/stronger/weaker than others). There are also several avenues of possible support for contextualism about ERAs that lack obvious analogues in the case of 'knows', as the data in §2.3 and §2.5-2.6 illustrate. So pessimism about contextualism about knowledge ascriptions does not warrant pessimism about contextualism about other epistemic terms. This is especially true if Skow (2016) is right that theories of explanation are best under14 stood as theories of reasons why, given that normative reasons are just a special kind of reason why. There are some exceptions-see, for example, Nickel (2010).15 14 References Bach, K. 1994. "Conversational Impliciture." Mind & Language 9(2): 124-162. Beaver, D. and Geurts, B. 2014. "Presupposition", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Winter 2014 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), URL = <http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2014/entries/presupposition/>. Bromberger, S. 1966. "Why-Questions" in Colodny, R. (ed.) Essays in Contemporary Science and Philosophy. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press. Bronfman, A. and Dowell, J. Forthcoming. "The Language of Reasons and Ought" in Star, D. (ed.) The Oxford Handbook of Reasons and Normativity. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Broome, J. 2004. 'Reasons' in Wallace, R. J., Smith, M, Scheffler, S. and Pettit, P. (eds.) Reason and Value: Themes from the Moral Philosophy of Joseph Raz. Oxford: Oxford University Press. --- 2013. Rationality through Reasoning. Wiley Blackwell. Cohen, S. 1986. "Knowledge and Context." Journal of Philosophy 83: 574-583. DeRose, K. 2009. The Case for Contextualism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Dowell, J. L. 2011. "A Flexible Contextualist Account of Epistemic Modals." Philosophers' Imprint 11(14): 1-25. Dretske, F. 1970. "Epistemic Operators." Journal of Philosophy 67: 1007-1023. --- 1971. "Conclusive Reasons." Australasian Journal of Philosophy 49: 1-22. --- 1972. "Contrastive Statements." The Philosophical Review 81: 411–437. Finlay, S. 2014. A Confusion of Tongues: A Theory of Normative Language. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Fogal, D. 2016. "Reasons, Reason, and Context" in Lord, E. and Maguire, B. (eds.) Weighing Reasons. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Grice, H. P. 1989. Studies in the Way of Words. Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press. Hempel, C. 1965. "Aspects of Scientific Explanation" in his Aspects of Scientific Explanation and Other Essays in the Philosophy of Science. London: CollierMacmillan. Henning, T. 2014. "Normative Reasons Contextualism." Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 88: 593-624. Horn, L. 1989. A Natural History of Negation. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Jenkins, C.S. 2008. "Romeo, René, and the Reasons Why: What Explanation Is." Proceedings of the Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 108: 61–84. Kennedy, C. 2007. "Vagueness and grammar: the semantics of relative and absolute gradable adjectives." Linguistics and Philosophy 30: 1–45. Kolodny, N. and MacFarlane, J. 2010. "Ifs and Oughts." Journal of Philosophy 107(3): 115-143. Leslie, S. 2007. "Moderately Sensitive Semantics" in Preyer, G. (ed.) Context Sensitivity and Semantic Minimalism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lewis, D. K. 1973. "Causation." Journal of Philosophy 70: 556-567. MacFarlane, J. 2014. Assessment Sensitivity Relative Truth and its Applications. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 15 Nickel, B. 2010. "How General Do Theories of Explanation Need to Be?" Nous 44(2): 305-328. Putnam, H. 1982. "Why There Isn't a Ready-Made World." Synthese 51: 141-167. Recanati, F. 2004. Literal Meaning. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Rooth, M. 1992. "A Theory of Focus Interpretation." Natural Language Semantics 1: 75–116. --- 1996. "Focus" in Lappin, S. (ed.) The Handbook of Contemporary Semantic Theory. Oxford: Blackwell. Roberts, C. 2012a. "Information Structure in Discourse: Towards and Integrated Formal Theory of Pragmatics." Semantics & Pragmatics 5(6): 1-69. --- 2012b. "Information Structure: Afterword." Semantics and Pragmatics 5(7):119. Saebø, K. J. 2009. "Possession and Pertinence: The Meaning of 'Have'." Natural Language Semantics 17(4): 360-397. Schaffer, J. 2012. "Causal Contextualism" in Blaauw, M. (ed.) Contrastivism in Philosophy: New Perspectives. London: Routledge. Schroeder, M. 2007. Slaves of the Passions. Oxford: Oxford University Press. --- 2008. "Having Reasons." Philosophical Studies 139: 57-71. --- 2011. "What Does It Take to 'Have' a Reason?" in Reisner, A. and Steglich- Petersen, A. (eds.) Reasons for Belief. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. --- 2012. "Stakes, Withholding, and Pragmatic Encroachment on Knowledge." Philosophical Studies 160.2: 265-285. --- 2015. "Knowledge Is Belief for Sufficient (Subjective and Objective) Reason." Oxford Studies in Epistemology 5: 226-252. Shaheen, J. Forthcoming. "Ambiguity and Explanation". Inquiry. Sinnott-Armstrong, W. 2008. "A Contrastivist Manifesto." Social Epistemology 22.3: 257–70. Snedegar, J. 2013a. "Negative Reason Existentials." Thought 2: 108-116. --- 2013b. "Reason Claims and Contrastivism about Reasons." Philosophical Studies 166: 231-242. --- 2015. "Contrastivism about Reasons and Oughts." Philosophy Compass 10.6: 379-388. Sperber, D. & Wilson, D. 1986. Relevance: Communication and Cognition. Oxford: Blackwell. Stanley, J. 2005. Knowledge and Practical Interests. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Stine, G. 1976. "Skepticism, Relevant Alternatives, and Deductive Closure." Philosophical Studies 29: 249-261. Strevens, M. 2007. "Mackie Remixed" in Campbell, J., O'Rourke, M. and Silverstein, H. (eds.) Causation and Explanation. Cambridge MA: The MIT Press. Swanson, E. 2010. "Lessons from the Context-Sensitivity of Causal Talk." Journal of Philosophy 107.5: 221-242. --- 2012. "The Language of Causation" in The Routledge Companion to the Philosophy of Language. Routledge. van Frassen, B. 1980. The Scientific Image. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Boğaziçi University 1 FREE WILL: WHO CAN KNOW? Zafer Kılıç [email protected] 1. Introduction In our day, the factors behind the difficulty of settling the free will issue is mainly twofold: on the one hand, we witness the advances in social and behavioral sciences, scope of which contains human beings, continue to unravel causal explanations for human action, leaving less and less room for free will. On the other hand, our experience furnishes us with an unassailable feeling that we are free to choose what we think and do. Given this predicament, where should we put our esteem? Which source of knowledge is more reliable if we are to obtain an answer? As implied in the title, I will inquire as to the characteristics of knowledge that is required to license us to make justifiable claims regarding the freedom of our will. Particularly, I will try to epistemically establish the importance of a priori knowledge in making justifiable claims on free will, and provide metaphysical reasons to doubt whether our knowledge is of that sort. My thesis is that we, as human beings, cannot have the proper kind of knowledge to make justifiable claims regarding our freedom –or lack thereof– of will as per the argument below: P1: In order for a human being to know whether they have free will or not, their understanding of the laws of the universe they inhabit should be reliable so that they can make necessarily true propositions regarding they have freedom with respect to those laws. P2: Human understanding of the universe is based on synthetic a priori knowledge as Kant suggested. This understanding incorporates certain innate principles and experience of the world. P3: We cannot be sure about either the reliability of our innate knowledge (whether they are provided by natural or supernatural sources) or whether our experience accurately reflects the actual universe. C1 (from P2 and P3): Our understanding of the universe and its laws is not necessarily true. Boğaziçi University 2 Therefore (from P1 and C1); C2: Human beings cannot make justifiable claims regarding whether they have free will or not. I have come to propose the above thesis through the following stages described in the respective sections of this paper: In Section 2, I explain why I adhere to Kantian epistemology and philosophy of mind –rather than empiricism– and how Kant's views make sense with respect to cognitive science by explaining the ways Kant's certain ideas have formed the philosophical groundwork of cognitive science. In Section 3, I briefly introduce the positions in free will debate and discuss the relevance of definition of free will to my thesis. In Section 4, I elucidate my argument and present the main discussion behind it over a simulation example, along with the evaluations of some possible objections. In Section 5, I make my concluding remarks. 2. Understanding of the Mind and Cognition Prior to any discussion regarding the matter of free will, I must specify the view of the mind I submit to. As a student of cognitive science, I accordingly favor the understanding of the mind adopted by it. In cognitive science, the mind is likened to a computer, and tried to be understood based on the computational theory of mind as a working hypothesis. As it happens, some of the most important premises of contemporary cognitive science are based on Immanuel Kant's philosophical insights (Brook, 2014). Therefore, I think it will serve well to make my main argument more clear if I address briefly in which ways Kant's views are adopted by cognitive science and fit to the computational theory of mind. But first, I will explain my reasons as to why I deem Kant's notion of the mind and cognition more plausible compared to that of David Hume and empiricists in general. 2.1. Roots of Knowledge: Kant versus Hume Under this chapter, I will explain why I consider Kant's theory of mind more plausible compared to Hume's empiricism. For this comparison, I picked Hume as the foremost representative of empiricism, who conveyed the essential ideas very clearly and concisely. As for Kant, though definitely not an empiricist, he cannot be deemed a rationalist either; his approach was to conjoin the two schools of thought by giving rationality and experiences their respective roles in human knowledge. The fundamental point where Hume's and Kant's views diverge can be recognized as the following: Hume thinks our experience of the world is shaped by the world itself, while Kant thinks our experience of the world is shaped by the mind. Indeed, a remarkable portion of Western philosophy since the end of the eighteenth century can be linked back to these rival views of Hume and Kant. I will start by briefly describing Hume's empiricist views. Boğaziçi University 3 Hume's account of causal connection give the central role to experience; the role of the mind is merely to associate ideas. Due to observation of constant conjunction of events, the mind develops the habit of generalizing this relation, and expects it to recur. All of which means there is no necessity in causal relations other than that which our minds ascribe to it. As a strict empiricist, Hume maintained that the content of every thought is gleaned from the experiences which affirm it. Unless referenced to the sensory impressions, no belief can be licensed as true. In empiricism, one's knowledge of the world is restrained to knowledge of their own subjective point of view. The problems with this empiricist picture will become apparent when we look at the current findings provided by cognitive science research after we look into Kant's opposing ideas. Profoundly influenced by Hume's ideas, Kant was convinced that causal necessity cannot be accounted for logically or empirically. He affirmed that it was us, the subjects, who ascribed causal connection to the universe. Where he diverged from Hume is that he did not think that our belief in causality was the manifestation of mental habit, but there should be a specific source of knowledge in our minds, a priori knowledge. Kant held that no coherent theory of (objective) properties, objects, events, causal relations, substance, time or space can be produced that is not already also an account of our (subjective) perceptions, concepts, and judgements concerning such things. In the last analysis, he concurred, the nature of the reality we know is inseparable from the nature of the mind that knows it. He contended that the "objects of the senses must conform to the constitution of our faculty of intuition." This was what Kant called his "Copernican Revolution". According to Kant, underlying our understanding of the universe, there are basic principles and judgements such as the truths of geometry and arithmetic, the principle of causality, and the principle of object permanence (the judgement that objects do not come into existence out of nowhere, and not stop existing). Kant proposed that these have some important characteristics, such as (Bell, 2003, p. 728): i. They are necessarily true, and cannot be either justified or falsified by appeal to contingent facts or perceptual experience (that is, they are a priori). ii. They are not merely logical truths or truths by definition (that is, they are synthetic). iii. They are essential to our understanding of reality. According to Kant's distinction, the knowledge we possess of this type of truths is synthetic a priori knowledge and in Kant's idealism there are two premises involving it: first, no knowledge, or understanding, or meaningful experience would be possible if it was not for synthetic a priori knowledge; second, it cannot be acquired through sheer experience of the world. Boğaziçi University 4 There are two points about which Kant is very insistent. The first one is that there is an utter distinction between sensibility and understanding (corresponding to intuitions and concepts). The second one is that involvement of both sensibility and understanding is absolutely necessary in any knowledge that is accessible to us. That means Kant denies the possibility of gaining any knowledge that is solely sensory or, equivalently, the possibility of gaining any knowledge that is purely conceptual, as he exquisitely stated "thoughts without content are empty, intuitions without concepts are blind" (Kant 1929: B xviii). Now, we may turn to some scientific research, which I think is relevant to comparison of Kantian and Humean understandings of the mind and cognition. But before we delve into scientific studies, recall that Kant's contention was that there are principles (that are based on a priori concepts) which lay beneath our understanding of the universe such as intuition of physics, causality, and the principle of object permanence. Trying to understand the origins of human knowledge regarding objects, substances, and mathematical concepts, cognitive development researchers directed their enquiries toward the least cognitively developed agents they could find: young infants. If some of that knowledge could be found in young infants –who have had neither enough time nor variety of stimulus to base their understanding on experience– then it would stand to reason to think that they have some a priori knowledge of the sort Kant affirmed. There are several studies on infant cognition but I will explain a review study due to its comprehensiveness and extensive coverage. In a 2011 study, psychologists vanMarle and Hespos reviewed infant cognition research of last 30 years. They found that an intuitive understanding of certain physical laws were already maintained by infants that are 2 months of age, about time when they become responsive to moving objects and can be tested with eye-tracking technology (vanMarle & Hespos, 2011, p. 20). For example, infants at this age expect unsupported objects should fall and concealed objects should not cease to exist. In a test, researchers moved a container with an object placed in it and 2-month-old infants knew that the object moved with the container (ibid., p. 21). This strongly indicates that the infants possess an expectation of object permanence. This innate knowledge of basic physics keeps developing as the infants gain experience by interacting with the world. At 5 months of age, babies start to distinguish the properties of solid objects from those of liquids (ibid., p. 21). This is also in alignment with Kant's view, according to which innate knowledge and experience together ground human understanding of the universe. Regarding their findings, vanMarle states that they contend that infants are furnished from birth with expectations regarding the objects in their environment, and this is a skill they were never taught (Thornhill, 2012). In addition to empirical evidence, there is an enduring theory from linguistics which I think supports and fits into Kantian picture of cognition: universal grammar (UG), Boğaziçi University 5 postulated by the renowned linguist Noam Chomsky. The fundamental postulate of UG theory is that linguistic capacities are hard-wired in our brains. In support of his theory, Chomsky remarks that the experiences available to language learners are way too scarce to account for their knowledge of their language. He thinks that we must assume that individuals possess innate knowledge of a universal grammar which captures the common structure of natural human languages to explain language acquisition (Chomsky, 1975). I think this capacity Chomsky talks about may well be one of the basic principles that Kant thought we have ingrained in our minds, hence an example of synthetic a priori knowledge. Empiricists' account of knowledge acquisition seems to fall short of explaining linguistic abilities of humans as long as the universal grammar theory continues to stand. In light of the above discussion, I consider it reasonable to assert that the findings of infant studies and the most esteemed theory of language acquisition (UG) strongly indicate that we are endowed with a priori judgements and principles which constitute our foundation of understanding universe as Kant conceived. Contrary to what Hume thought, humans do not solely rely on observation for associating ideas, but make use of already present a priori concepts such as time, space, causality, and object permanence. 2.2. Kant and Cognitive Science In the previous chapter, I presented some research and a theory which I think clearly supports Kantian understanding of the human mind. Those findings already indicate some aspects in which Kant's views and cognitive science are matchable. I will now explicitly point out these aspects of Kant's philosophy that found place in contemporary cognitive science. Indeed, Kant's influence is so palpable that he has been called "the intellectual grandfather of contemporary cognitive science" (Brook, 2014, p. 61). To start with a central doctrine of Kant, which has become orthodox in cognitive science, one can mention the doctrine that representation requires concepts as well as percepts. Stated in more contemporary terms, the idea is that to make discrimination among things, information is required to ground the discrimination; however, for information to be useful to us, we have to apply capacities to discriminate on it (ibid., p. 65). Kant's another influence on cognitive science has been methodological. His method of transcendental argument has become a major, if not the major, method that has been employed by cognitive scientists, as they try to infer the conditions that are necessary for some phenomenon to come about. (In contemporary terms, this method, at its core, amounts to inference to the best explanation.) This method is important in cognitive science as it helps forming an explanatory bridge between observable behavior and unobservable psychological antecedents (ibid., p. 65). Currently in cognitive science, functionalism is the most widely accepted philosophical view of the mind (ibid., p. 66). The idea behind functionalism is, in essence, that to model the mind we should model what it does and can do, which means to models its functions. The main function of the mind in representational models is to shape and transform Boğaziçi University 6 representations. This matches very well with Kant's picture; he also held a representational model of the mind, and he also saw the mind as a system of functions that applies concepts to percepts (ibid., p. 66). Finally, to outline the most essential ideas of Kant adopted by cognitive science (ibid., p. 67): i. His epistemological vision that experience requires both perception and conception, that is we make sense of what we perceive according to the concepts rooted in our minds ii. His transcendental argument method iii. His picture of the mind that employs functions operating on concepts to shape representations It should be noted that (i) implies that Kant's notion of synthetic a priori fares well with cognitive science, as also indicated by the infant cognition studies and universal grammar theory discussed in the previous chapter. I think, when we combine these aspects, they grant us enough reason to concur that Kant's philosophy constitutes a suitable framework for thinking about the mind and freedom of will. 3. Which Free Will are We Talking About? In this section, I will summarize the main positions one can take with respect to free will dispute and explain their relevance to my thesis, which concerns justifiability of our claims regarding our freedom of will. There are two main divisions to the dispute of free will: compatibilism and incompatibilism. The former holds that free will and determinism are compatible; we can have free will even though we live in a universe governed by deterministic laws. Taking the latter position, one can side with one of these two camps: libertarianism and hard determinism. Libertarians hold that we have free will which requires the laws of universe to not be deterministic. Hard determinists hold that universe is governed by deterministic laws and that denies us free will. Considering above introduced positions, I do not see the conflict between compatibilism and incompatibilism is relevant to my project. I think, more crucial to my project is the dispute between compatibilism and libertarianism, as the latter require indeterminism for free will and the former does not. This point of divergence is relevant for my purposes as I need to specify some criterion for freedom to which I can respect in the context of my simulation example. Therefore, I am to evaluate both views considering their definitions of free will. Compatibilists submit to determinism and they interpret "freedom" different than libertarians do, so that it can be fitted into the determinist picture. They do that by redefining "free will" in a non-metaphysical manner, as freedom to act in accordance with one's will, without any compulsion or coercion or whatnot (different versions of compatibilism offer different solutions but this is the main gist). The important point is Boğaziçi University 7 not whether your decisions and actions are determined, they claim; but that they are your decisions and actions. According to compatibilists, even though what you have done was determined, you could have done otherwise, if you had wanted otherwise (McKenna, 2012). Compatibilists hence put the emphasis on the will rather than freedom. As opposed to compatibilists, a well-known proponent of libertarian free will Robert Kane affirms it is necessary that there be metaphysically real alternatives for our acts, but it is not sufficient; our acts could be random unless they are in our control. The control is found in what Kane calls "ultimate responsibility" (UR) (Kane, 2002). Ultimate responsibility requires that agents must be the ultimate originators and sustainers of their own ends and goals. There must be more than one way for a person's life can turn out. More crucially, the person's willing acts must be the arbiter of which way it turns out. Kane defines UR in detail as follows (Kane, 1996, p. 35): An agent is ultimately responsible for some (event or state) E's occurring only if (R) the agent is personally responsible for E's occurring in a sense which entails that something the agent voluntarily (or willingly) did or omitted either was, or causally contributed to, E's occurrence and made a difference to whether or not E occurred; and (U) for every X and Y (where X and Y represent occurrences of events and/or states) if the agent is personally responsible for X and if Y is an arche (sufficient condition, cause or motive) for X, then the agent must also be personally responsible for Y. Considering the two different understandings of free will discussed above, I do not think the interpretation of free will in compatibilism affect the issue I am dealing with in any significant way. I am more concerned with the matter of whether you can have the knowledge regarding whether your actions are determined or not. Therefore I will take Kane's libertarian definition of free will since it calls for the strictest criterion, which I think is the only one that accounts for our subjective experience of freedom. Besides, if an agent can justifiably confirm or refute the prospect of his having libertarian free will, I believe his judgement should also be justifiable for assessing compatibilist or any other accounts of freedom of will. 4. Can We Simulate Free Will? In this section I present my main argument and my underlying reasoning via an example of simulation. I argue that in order for us, as agents of a system (the universe), to make judgements about freedom of our wills, we should possess analytic a priori knowledge about laws of the universe we live in. Given that our understanding of the system is based on synthetic a priori knowledge, we are in no position to make such judgments because we do not know if we can rely on our knowledge. That is because our synthetic a priori knowledge – which is the foundation of our understanding of the universe– is not reliable since (i) we do not know its source and metaphysical properties of it; (ii) we do not know our Boğaziçi University 8 experience of the world accurately represents the world itself. Below I state my thesis in its argumentative form ('P's stand for premises and 'C's for conclusions): P1: In order for a human being to know whether they have free will or not, their understanding of the laws of the universe they inhabit should be reliable so that they can make necessarily true (true in every logically possible world in which the determining laws obtain) propositions regarding they have freedom with respect to those laws. P2: Human understanding of the universe is based on synthetic a priori knowledge as Kant suggested. This understanding incorporates certain innate principles and experience of the world. P3: We cannot be sure about either the reliability of our innate knowledge (regardless of whether it comes from natural or supernatural sources) or whether the experience accurately reflects the actual universe. C1 (from P2 and P3): Our understanding of the universe and its laws is not necessarily true. Therefore (from P1 and C1); C2: Human beings cannot make justifiable claims regarding whether they have free will or not. Concerning Premise 2, I have already explained my reasons for submitting to Kant's epistemology and philosophy of mind in section 2. As for the rest of the premises and conclusions, I will venture to justify them in the following main discussion involving a simulation example. 4.1. Elaboration of the Main Argument through a Simulation Example In support of my argument presented above, I will present my reasoning based heavily on a simulation example, especially regarding the relation of the programmer and the simulated agents, as well as comparison of them in terms of their free will and knowledge about it. I will look for correspondence and analogies between this simulated universe and our universe, and see if their incorporation provides helpful insights into the issue of free will. In essence, the purpose of the simulation example is this: to investigate the possibility of free will and knowledge thereof in the frame of a relatively more comprehensible universe and hence more comprehensible epistemic relationship between its creator and agents. I will try to derive ideas that can be assessed considering the similarities (and differences) between this simulated universe and that of ours and in terms of source and justifiability of knowledge. There are more specific and important points regarding the simulation example which are as follows: Boğaziçi University 9  The simulation does not have to be based on an electronic system. The purpose is to imagine a system over which the creator has complete authority and happens to be a human so that we can relate and think at a lower order of abstraction, i.e. we do not need metaphysical explanations. To make it easier to imagine, you can think of the computer game series "the Sims" (theSims.com, 2017) or the movie series "the Matrix" (en.wikipedia.org, 2017) with a modified version of the simulation (Matrix) in which real human brains are not hooked up to the simulation as agents, instead they are also simulated as is the rest of the universe.  The philosophical function of the example is to present us with a system with respect to which we are epistemically better-grounded compared to when we think about our own universe and free will.  I preferred to imagine a simulation of a whole universe inhabited by agents instead of a singular agent with artificial intelligence (AI) so that we can examine the characteristics of the knowledge of the simulated agents regarding the simulated world. The simulation should be viewed as a virtual universe similar to ours, inhabited by individual AI agents with the cognitive capacities are on par with humans in the frame of computational theory of mind. We are not interested in their subjective mental experience so much as information processing aspects of their 'minds'. A practical way to qualify them would be assuming that they could pass the Turing test (Turing, 1950). Thence it should be noted that the AI in the simulation example is clearly idealized.  The programmer of the simulation is different than an ordinary human being in that he has such mental capacities that he knows and can access every governing logical law of the simulation; i.e., he is idealized in the sense that he is omniscient with respect to laws of the simulation he created. I think the above introduced simulation example accommodates a much clearer view of the epistemic relationship between the agent, the universe, and the creator (or any other phenomenon as the arbiter of laws of the world and their knowability) compared to our own case as humans. By overviewing a lower-order system –with regard to which we are epistemically more reliable than we are with regard to our own system–, we might find ways to extrapolate the insights we gain to higher-order systems such as our own universe. Now, I can start with the depiction of the example and then move on to the discussion based on it. Consider a programmer and a simulation he has created using a sufficiently capable computer. The simulation consists of a virtual universe (similar to ours) and virtual humans with AI (hereinafter I will call them "simulants") inhabiting it. Basically, a computer carries out logical operations to run a program (such as the simulation at hand). These operations are represented digitally and realized physically by means of some electronic system. Granted, the programmer may not possess the knowledge of all possible physical states of the system, but the electronic system can be precisely expressed as logical operations, i.e. the whole system can be defined in logical terms. Therefore, having written the code, the programmer knows a priori every logical sentence (in practice he would rather know and use compiled statements via a Boğaziçi University 10 programming language, which is a means to implements logical operations, but that is not a problem for our purposes) that defines the system. This means he does not need any experience to know that the simulation will work as he programmed it. Since his understanding of the system is based on a priori knowledge, his propositions based on those logical statements would be necessarily true. Thus the programmer is justified in making claims regarding the simulants' freedom of will, regardless of whether his own will is free or not. At least, he would be justified in claiming that the simulants do or do not have free will relative to the system of which he is an agent, i.e., our universe. Having proposed this, I need to specify some criterion according to which the programmer can make judgements about the simulants' freedom of will. In compliance with Kane's libertarian free will definition I previously stated I would respect (see section 3), I specify the criterion as the following: a simulant can be declared to have free will if he is ultimately responsible for some event that deviates from the laws of the simulation determined by the programmer. Based on the above specified criterion, the knowledge of the programmer would allow him to make claims regarding the simulated agents by observing the compatibility of their behavior with the laws he set, hence knows a priori. Now, concerning our universe and our freedom of will, a candidate who may have that kind of justification could be some entity like Laplace's demon, which is conjectured to see the future and the past of the universe with certainty as he knows all the governing laws of our universe and the momentary positions of all the things in it (Laplace, 1820). I argue only such an entity would have a status –with respect to our universe– that is epistemically equal to the status –with respect to his simulated universe– of the programmer. That brings us to the point of the discussion I have made thus far (and the ground of the first premise of my argument): I do not think any human being can possess or access to such knowledge. Even if we granted a human being a perfect understanding of the laws of the universe, his knowledge is not as reliable as in the manner the programmer's knowledge is as per the Kantian framework I have submitted to. The programmer determined the laws of the simulation using nothing but his own knowledge, so he is justified in expecting the simulation to obey his rules as he has a priori knowledge regarding the simulation. This means that the simulation is a logical manifestation of the knowledge that is in the mind of the programmer; his knowledge is not contingent. Such precise correspondence is not the case for the relation between human knowledge and human universe; however accurate a human's knowledge of the universe may be, there is reason to doubt it since it is not necessarily true. Now we can consider the issue further by taking the viewpoint of the simulants so as to compare with our situation with respect to our universe. It seems to me that the question "What can the simulants know as to the nature of the simulation they inhabit?" would not give way for a promising investigation in this case, since the programmer has directly determined the laws of the simulation and thus has the power to dictate the limits of knowledge of the simulants. A more productive question may be "Is it possible for the programmer to design a simulation in which the simulants may possess or access to the knowledge which would allow them to precisely understand the simulation?" In order to do that, the programmer must somehow help the simulants to see the Boğaziçi University 11 simulation the way he sees it. Note that the programmer has the distinct advantage of not being a part of the simulation; he does not need to self-refer to understand it. He would have to ingrain the electronic concepts as well as the logical concepts into the minds of the simulants, whose existence is based on the system that has been founded on those very concepts. That would be akin to us trying to understand the very concept that provides us with our mental faculties, as we are somehow trying to do throughout this paper. If we came to know the exact structure of our brains, would that knowledge afford us the understanding of our mental phenomena? Or, likewise, if the simulants understood the exact structure of the electronic and computational system on which the simulation is running, could they understand their own experience? In search for answers to the above posed questions, we could inspect the issue through a Kantian lens. In Kantian terms, one could say the programmer knows about the noumenal world (the world that includes computation and electronics), whereas the simulants have only knowledge regarding the phenomenal world (the one they experience within the simulation). In the Kantian picture, our mental faculties only provide us with knowledge of phenomenal world (things as they appear to us) not of noumenal world (thing-in-themselves). We have concepts based on judgments of perception, which are subjective; however, judgments of experience we make according to those concepts are objective. Yet, their objectivity only implies their necessary universal validity in the phenomenal world. This may or may not hold true for the simulants as the programmer can furnish them with such concepts that their experience reflects nothing like the simulated world they live in. I leave further inquiry to the next chapter, in which I will deal with an objection that can be raised in this vein. Now, I will offer my reasoning behind Premise 3 which purports that we cannot be sure about the reliability of our synthetic a priori knowledge, which is innate. The reasons for doubting synthetic a priori knowledge would depend on the ontological stance we take with regards to the source of that knowledge possessed by humans: naturalism or supernaturalism. Let us investigate the issue of reliability of knowledge from both perspectives. In the naturalist picture, I think the most plausible candidate for the source of synthetic a priori knowledge is evolution for it is the best scientific theory we currently have, which affords us great deal of explanatory power regarding life on earth. The mechanism of evolution is such that the characteristics (this includes inherited knowledge like synthetic a priori knowledge which is of interest to us) of populations are passed on through generations based on their fitness value. It can be plausibly asserted that fitness value does not necessarily correlate with accuracy of the knowledge 1. It may probably be the case that the knowledge underlies our understanding of the universe is selected so as to facilitate our survival even though it does not provide us with accurate understanding. (This claim can be supported by many well-studied shortcomings of the human mind, which are generally known as "cognitive biases," as termed by Kahneman 1 Alvin Plantinga has proposed an argument against naturalism by appealing to evolution in a similar manner (Plantinga, 1993). Boğaziçi University 12 & Tversky, 1974.) Consequently, in the naturalist picture, we can identify at least one aspect that grants us reason to doubt our synthetic a priori knowledge. As to the super-naturalist side, one shall consider we are created by a divine being and he is the one who bestowed us with synthetic a priori knowledge. Now, we cannot really know the intentions or the agenda of this divine being. He might have put the knowledge in our minds to make our experiences more pleasant, to make us worship him, and so on; the possibilities are endless. Thus we can conclude that it is also the case for the supernaturalist that he cannot rely on the accuracy of his synthetic a priori knowledge, or the understanding he has developed based on it. 4.2. Assessment of Possible Objections Now I will evaluate some possible objections that can be brought forward against my argument. To start with, I suppose an objection can be formed by appealing to some views of Kant himself, several ideas of whom I adopted for the purposes of my argument. I have already conceded that humans have synthetic a priori knowledge; however, I disagree with Kant on its metaphysical status. But others might not. For instance, one can question whether a human agent really ought to have the sort of knowledge which Laplace's demon possesses in order to justifiably make claims about his free will. Let us consider this question in relation with Kant's views. Kant held that we know a priori that all events are determined in the phenomenal world. Along this line, it can thus be argued that we can be justified if we claimed we have not free will, not in the libertarian sense anyway. Thus it would follow that we do not need to specifically know the laws of nature –neither the simulants need to know the laws of the simulation–, only that they are determined. According to what I understand, Kant considers our freedom that we experience in the phenomenal world to be unproblematic. We may feel like we can introduce spontaneity into the causal chains to conduct experiments. According to Kant, this freedom does not qualify as absolute freedom, but a sort of "second causality" to ground moral imperatives. Therefore, our freedom can be seen as an uncaused spontaneous cause among the phenomenal world, but it is not determined by the phenomenal world. Thus we have moral duties, Kant concurs. However, I see some difficulties here. This phenomenal experience gives us no knowledge regarding the source, limit, or demands of our experiential freedom. It is allegedly not bounded by practical causality and hence it must be grounded in the noumenal realm. There it can be subject to "logical relations" aside from temporally causal relations. The will or "soul", like all the other things, has a double existence as phenomenal and as a "thing-in-itself". But having affirmed that we have no access to entities of the noumenal world, how can Kant know? Or more relevant to my thesis, how can any agent know and make justifiable claims regarding their freedom of will? Let us first see about Kant's answers and then I will present my answers and evaluation. Boğaziçi University 13 In the Preface to Critique of Pure Reason (2E), Kant admits that we cannot know we have that freedom since we cannot know about things-in-themselves. However, he claims, we can nevertheless think them hypothetically, provided that they are not selfcontradicting. To sum up, in Kant's picture, the grounds by which we can infer our freedom are the following: (i) we feel this freedom in our phenomenal experience; (ii) it is not selfcontradicting–that is, according to our available understanding which is based on the phenomenal world through our synthetic a priori concepts ("pure categories of understanding"); and (iii) as the source of our moral duties deduced via transcendental method. To criticize them in order, I think (i) is not a solid ground as phenomenal experiences may not accurately reflect the noumenal world, though we may concede it at least gives us a reason to expect that we have free will. As for (ii), I must point out we can have countless non-contradictory thoughts which may not be representative of the noumenal realm. Their being non-contradictory depends on the credibility we assign to the source of our synthetic a priori knowledge which shapes our judgments (recall the discussion in the previous chapter concerning the reliability of the source of this knowledge in the cases we assume naturalist or super-naturalist views). Aside from faith based justifications, I do not see how we can justifiably rely on them. Finally, (iii) requires us to give moral duties the unique status Kant gives them; however, I do not see why our moral intuitions would not be susceptible to doubt in the same way our other concepts are, especially if we assume a naturalist viewpoint rather than a super-naturalist one. If we get back to our simulation example, the programmer may provide the simulants with all the three grounds –except for (i), which is a subjective mental experience hence cannot be accounted for in computational theory of mind– offered by Kant to grant us justification for deducing free of will, without actually allowing them any free will. He can adjust the AI of the simulants so that the idea of free will is not self-contradicting (for example, by not furnishing them with a notion of determined universe). He also can implement moral duties as strict constraints in their concepts, as hard rules they should obey, regardless of whether they have free will or not. Moreover, I think it is conceivable that an assumed creator of our universe could employ similar methods in designing us. To conclude the assessment of this objection, Kant's views in this matter seem to me suffering from self-serving bias; they aptly serve to Kant's project which is to be make justifiable rational claims regarding freedom of will and practical reason, to evade epistemological and moral chaos. Therefore, I do not deem the above discussed objection based on these views reasonable. Next, I want to touch upon Leibniz's compatibilism as it can constitute the foundation for another possible objection to my thesis. In Leibniz's view, God determines human action, but he claims that they are nonetheless free, in the sense that the actions are not necessary –hence they are contingent–; the contrary of some action could be done in another possible world (Look, 2013). Let us examine how this approach can be adapted to our simulation example. Firstly, in the simulation picture, the programmer takes the Boğaziçi University 14 role of God; that is the most apparent translation. Now, following Leibniz's argument, one can claim that actions of the simulants are free as they can be programmed to do otherwise in another possible simulation. But I find this claim untenable, for the reasons I will explain. I think the critical point of difference between a Leibnizian universe and the simulated universe is the method of creation employed by the creator. In the Leibnizian picture, each individual substance has a complete individual concept and that concept contains all predicates that are true of the individual's past, present, and future (ibid.). (I think it is clear that this is hardly the case for our simulants). Therefore, I understand Leibniz contends God created humans in an exceptional manner, as he wrote, "For they are not bound by any certain subordinate laws of the universe, but act as it were by a private miracle" (Lawrenz, 2010, p.143). Hence, I think, it follows that they are not conceptually inherent with respect to the universe. By "conceptually inherent," I mean that they can be analyzed into concepts of the universe they take place and can be explained by those. (So, "not conceptually inherent" should be considered to imply, for example, that they cannot be the products of some process that occurs in the universe –such as evolution–, hence essentially products of the universe itself.) However, on the contrary, the simulants are conceptually inherent to the simulation; they can be formed as discrete units, defined via certain logical propositions –bounded by the logical laws of the simulation–; therefore they are still based on the same substrate (physically and logically) as the entirety of the simulated world. The implication is that the programmer cannot make an exception –with respect to general laws of the simulation– for any simulant. He can alter them, but still based on the laws he programmed. He cannot, in Leibniz's words, "incline [their] souls without necessitating them," (Look, 2013) for any inclination he causes in the simulants would be a necessary inclination since it is caused based on the laws of the simulation. Moreover, it might not be the case that humans are created in an exceptional manner in our universe either, unless you concede Leibniz's particular theistic views. If you assume a naturalistic viewpoint, the arguments I made regarding the simulated universe become valid for our universe as well. Furthermore, they would remain true even if you assume a theistic view which only dictates the divine creation of a lawful deterministic universe, without making an exception for humans. Consequently, barring his particular theistic assumptions, Leibniz's compatibilism does not seem to be applicable in a deterministic world; be it our universe, or a simulated universe. Regarding Lebniz's ideas, another way of inspecting free will in the context of simulation example would be to imagine that the programmer created the simulants guided by their complete concepts. Hence, in itself, actions of a simulant would be contingent; as it would be necessary that if the programmer creates the simulants by instantiating his concept guided program, those actions will be performed. Then the question I must answer would be whether this action can be regarded as free? Now, in the computational framework, here is how I imagine an agent's "complete concept" would be formed: The programmer defines a set of modal propositions which contain all possible predicates of the simulant in all possible conditions (I think this is the way the actions become contingent, given some other conditions in another possible simulation the simulant would act differently). In this this way, I can say, at best, he furnished the simulant with a will, but I do not think that will is free (a classical compatibilist would probably say it is free, though, Boğaziçi University 15 affirming that the complete concept of an agent is who he is, it is what constitutes his "will" and he is free to act as he wills). Because, still, the programmer will never be surprised by the actions of the simulants. Another way of objecting to my thesis could be established on the possibility that the programmer may transmit his complete knowledge of the simulation to the simulants so that they can unmistakably know whether they have free will or not, hence can be justified to make claims about it. Doing that in the design stage seems problematic as I discussed in the answer to the previous example, so now let us consider another way, which would be applicable to us humans as well. Suppose, a special simulant that is devised and controlled by the programmer himself, an avatar to represent him in the simulation (hereinafter to be called "the Avatar"), is introduced into the simulated world. Through his avatar, the programmer tries to convince some regular simulant (I will refer to him as "the Chosen One") that the world he lives in is a simulation which is totally determined. How would he convince the agent? Also as importantly, would the agent be justified to believe him? 2 Note that the Chosen One knows nothing of the world outside the simulation; for him, his simulated world is as real as it gets, provided that the programmer designed the simulants in such a way that their beliefs are somehow in correspondence with the world they live in. Introduction of the Avatar accommodates a potential for deviations in the laws of the simulated world. Because now that the simulated world and the 'real' (the programmer's) world are causally linked, there ought to be essentially same order of freedom in both worlds. However, since the Chosen One's appraisal of experience is still governed by his concepts, the unlawful events caused by the Avatar would be proper miracles to him, just as the information that contradicts with his knowledge regarding his universe. If aptly programmed, he could come to believe the Avatar and he would be justified to do so. And is that not what we humans would demand to believe some prophet (claiming to be God's avatar) who tries to convince us of a divine being –if it was not for our capacity to believe on faith? (Though, still, holy books of many religions offer numerous accounts of past miracles as reasons to believe in their gods; and it makes metaphysical sense.) And I think that is a capacity which distinguishes us from the simulants who, having artificial intelligence, are bounded by the computational theory of mind; they cannot be expected to believe anything that contradicts their categories of judgement. But we can say this for the Chosen One because we know that his mind is 2 By definition of our simulation, it is not as though the Chosen One is free whether to believe the Avatar or not. But we granted the simulants artificial intelligence and as per computational model of the mind, they process information then assume mental states and conduct actions depending on their concepts of understanding, experience, and individual traits that were specified by the programmer. Thus, the Chosen One's beliefs are not free but contingent –they were necessary in the absence of the Avatar since all the information and experience that was accessible to him was determined by the laws of simulation then– in the sense that they depend on his concepts and the information he is exposed to. (His concepts are still as they were determined by the programmer, but the information available to him is not, as it can come from outside the simulation now through the Avatar.) The Avatar is simply trying to make him assume a mental state in which he believes that his world is simulated and hence determined by exposing him to specific information and/or incidents. Boğaziçi University 16 also governed by the laws of the simulation. If we happened to witness a genuine miracle, our whole understanding of the universe would become doubtable; let alone our sense of freedom. But, still, we would end up epistemically better off, as we will have been freed of our incorrect beliefs regarding the laws of the universe. But this enlightenment would work only in that way of negation, as the inaccurate beliefs dissolve as they are contradicted by experiential and/or epistemic evidence that we witness. Because having witnessed that our knowledge of the universe was illusory or incomplete, we would have reason to doubt if our understanding is complete on the same grounds as we begin with. Thus, the conclusion I arrive at is this: there is no amount of knowledge, except for the complete knowledge, that can allow us to make unmistaken inferences and justifiable claims regarding the nature of our being –including our free will. 5. Conclusion I have inquired as to what sort of knowledge humans need to make justifiable claims regarding free will. I defended the thesis that humans do not have the sort of knowledge which would allow them to make such claims. Adopting the view of mind based on cognitive science and Kant's philosophy of mind, first I laid out the characteristics of that knowledge with the help of a simulation example I devised. Then, upon investigating the epistemic relations between the different sources of knowledge and the agents of a system (such as the relation between the programmer and the simulated agents as well as god and humans), I claimed that knowledge bearing those characteristics cannot be accessible to human beings. I think discussions about what we can and cannot know about freedom of will can guide us in where to put our philosophical and scientific efforts for future studies, and hopefully help us achieve a more accurate understanding of many issues that are intertwined with freedom of will. References Bell, D. (2003). Kant. In Bunnin, N. & Tsui-James, E. P. (Ed.), The blackwell companion to philosophy (2nd ed.). Oxford: Blackwell Publishing. Brandon C. Look: Leibniz's Modal Metaphysics. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 2013 Brook, A. (2014). Kant and cognitive science. Estudos Kantianos [EK], 2 (02). Chomsky, N. (1975). Recent Contributions to the Theory of Innate Ideas, reprinted in S. Stitch (ed.), Innate Ideas, Berkeley, CA: California University Press. Boğaziçi University 17 En.wikipedia.org. (2017). The Matrix. [online] Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Matrix [Accessed 11 Jan. 2017]. Hespos, J. & vanMarle, K. (2011). Physics for infants: characterizing the origins of knowledge about objects, substances, and number. WIREs Cogn Sci 2012, 3: 19-27. doi: 10.1002/wcs.157 Kane, R. (1996). The significance of free will. Oxford: Oxford University Press Kane, R. (2002). Free will. Malden, MA: Blackwell. Kant, I., 1929 [1781, 1787]: Critique of Pure Reason (1st edn (A), 1781, 2nd edn (B), 1787) (translated by N. Kemp Smith). London: Macmillan. Laplace, P. S. A Philosophical Essay on Probabilities, translated into English from the original French 6th ed. by Truscott,F.W. and Emory,F.L., Dover Publications (New York, 1951) p.4 Lawrenz, J. (2010). Leibniz: the nature of reality and the reality of nature: a study of Leibniz's double-aspect ontology and the labyrinth of the continuum. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars. McKenna, M. (2012). Contemporary Compatibilism: Mesh Theories and ReasonsResponsive Theories. In Kane, R. (ed.) The Oxford Handbook of Free Will: Second Edition. NY: Oxford University Press. Plantinga, A. (1993). Warrant and Proper Function. New York: Oxford University Press. doi:10.1093/0195078640.001.0001. ISBN 0-19-507864-0. Thesims.com. (2017). The Sims. [online] Available at: https://www.thesims.com/ [Accessed 11 Jan. 2017]. Thornhill, T. (2012). Coogee coo-blimey: Babies are born 'with knowledge of intuitive physics'. Retrieved January 02, 2017, from http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2091217/Babies-born-knowledgeintuitive-physics.html Turing, A. (1950). Computing Machinery and Intelligence, Mind, LIX (236): 433– 460, doi:10.1093/mind/LIX.236.433, ISSN 0026-4423, retrieved 2008-08-18 Tversky, A. & Kahneman, D. (1974). Judgement under uncertainty: Heuristics and biases. Science. 185 (4157): 1124–1131. doi:10.1126/science.185.4157.1124. PMID 17835457.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos Ano 8, no15, Dezembro 2011: 67-77 REH – Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos Jul./Dez. de 2011 N. 15, v.01 pp.66-77 Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Elisa Magrì * _________________________________________________________________ Abstract: As Hegel often said, memory is essentially related to thinking. In this paper I will argue that memory plays a crucial role into the Science of Logic as well, although it does not stand for a psychological faculty. I will proceed as follows: first, I will briefly mention the relevance of memory in the Philosophy of Subjective Spirit, then I will reconstruct the correspondence between the psychological transition from Vorstellung to Denken and the speculative Übergang from Wesen to Begriff. Lastly, I will hint at the difference between self-relation and self-consciousness, focusing on the importance of the first in the Science of Logic. Keywords: Hegel, Logic, Memory, Subjective Spirit. Resumo: Como Hegel disse muitas vezes, a memória está essencialmente relacionada com o pensamento. Neste artigo pretende-se argumentar que a memória tem um papel decisivo também na Ciência da Lógica, apesar de aqui ela não representar nenhuma faculdade psicológica. Procede-se nos seguintes passos: Primeiro, será brevemente lembrada a relevância da memória na Filosofia do Espírito Subjetivo. Depois, será reconstruida a correspondência entre a passagem psicológica da representação ao pensamento com a passagem especulativa da essência ao conceito. Finalmente será apontada a diferença entre auto-relação e auto-consciência, focalizando a importância da primeira na Ciência da Lógica. Palavras-chave: Hegel, Lógica, Memória, Espírito subjetivo. __________________________________________________________________ Introduction1: Hegelian scholars always stress the irreducibility of logic to subjective thought, as logic is the science of pure thought independent from concrete Vorstellungen. This is obviously true, as Hegel himself says very often. However, this is not sufficient in order *Ph.D Student at Scuola Normale Superiore, Pisa – Italy. I am thankful to Prof. Alfredo Ferrarin for his suggestions and helpful remarks, to Samuele Lo Piano and Graham Wetherall for kindly correcting a previous English translation of this paper and to Augusto Gerolin for graciously translating the title and the abstract into Portuguese. I also thank Dr. Tommaso Pierini for criticizing many aspects of my paper. Of course, all remaining errors are mine. 1 List of abbreviations followed hereafter: GW = Gesammelte Werke, Hamburg 1968 ff. Enz. A = Enzyklopädie der philosophischen Wissenschaften 1817 (GW 13) Enz. B = Enzyklopädie der philosophischen Wissenschaften 1827 (GW 19) Enz. C = Enzyklopädie der philosophischen Wissenschaften 1830 (GW 20) SL = Hegel's Science of Logic, transl. by A. V. Miller, New York 1969 Elisa Magrì Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos ano. 8, n. 15, v.1 68 to justify the structure of Begriff from a systematic point of view. As we know, concept2 is never immediately given, as it must be rationally developed both in logic and in subjective spirit. This implies a complex process from Vorstellung to Begriff in order to overcome the limits of the former. In the context of psychology, Hegel underscores the function of recollection and memory in providing the transition to Denken, whereas substantial causality leads directly to Begriff in logic. In my view, a logical memory also lies at the core of the deduction of the Concept, as I will attempt to clarify without assuming either psychology as a model for logic, or logic as a presupposition of psychology. My aim is to give some lines of investigation in order to justify the deduction of concept as the proper process concerning both ontology and theoretical activity. I will keep logic and psychology distinct, but not to the extent of excluding their reciprocal correspondence. More precisely, I will focus on the passages concerning the deduction of Concept in the SL and I will explain how they correspond to the psychological movement from Vorstellung to Denken. 1. Hegel's psychology is neither a treatise on the human mind nor a theory of faculties from which one might deduce logical concepts. Instead, Hegelian psychology is concerned with intelligence's withdrawal into itself in order to achieve «the knowledge of substantial totality, neither subjective nor objective» (Enz. C, § 440). Thus, psychology explains, at the same time, how knowledge is possible and to what extent knowing is related to reality. Yet, psychology is the culmination of what Hegel calls "subjective spirit", which includes the soul, consciousness and the free spirit, which latter is the subject matter of psychology. The transition from the soul to the psychological Geist is the same as the transition from spirit's relation to the world to spirit's relation to itself. In the form of anthropological soul and of consciousness, spirit experiences the world outside as an independent object. Only psychology reveals how spirit knows itself through its own determinations. Therefore, Hegel's philosophy of subjective spirit is not so much a 2Hereafter I will prefer "Concept" as the proper translation of the German word "Begriff" contrary to Miller's translation, which makes use of "Notion". Both "Concept" and "Begriff" mean "to catch", "to comprehend". It is not simply grasping, but knowing something in its whole extension and complexity. I shall also adopt the capital letter in order to mean by "Concept" "the concept of the concept". Elisa Magrì Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos ano. 8, n. 15, v.1 69 genetic description of knowledge 3 , but rather a rational analysis of the unifying structure of theoretical activity 4 . More precisely, hegelian psychology is divided into different theoretical activities moving from the most immediate to the most mediate, that is from intuition to the concept. For the sake of brevity, I will not recall the whole psychological path, in order to focus on the most difficult abilities which make Denken possible. Thinking arises once intelligence has fully externalized itself into linguistic signs. Hegel speaks of it as if the name should be the connection between intuition and a universal meaning without any image sharing some characteristic with the object signified. The creation of signs is not clearly described, since Hegel himself recognizes that signs' creation is always misunderstood and confused with recollection, representation or imagination (Enz. C, § 459, Z). On the contrary, productive memory is always involved in signs. As Inwood remarks, productive memory is not mentioned elsewhere in Enz. C, but it appears in Hegel's Philosophical Propedeutic, the notes of his lectures to schoolboys between 1809 and 1811, published by Karl Rosenkranz in 1840: «(...) But in so far as a representation is made into its determination through productive memory, the reality essentially becomes the relation of representations to other representing beings [vorstellende Wesen] and it begins therein the theoretical communication of these beings with one another» (M. INWOOD, 2010, p. 496). Signcreation differs from fantasy in so far as the former is engaged in preserving the connection between meaning and representation, whereas the latter deals with the association of pictorial images. However, linguistic signs are merely external, because they are not chosen by us and they do not depend on what we see in the world. They are relations based on representations; therefore they stand for essential beings in so far as they mediate between intelligence and external content. Thus, memory plays the opposite role of imagination: whereas imagination universalizes representations by means of association and abstraction; memory, on the contrary, retains just the connection of particularity and 3I am referring to R. WINFIELD (2010), who takes seriously Hegel's development from soul to intelligence claiming that soul and consciousness should be conceived as pre-linguistic states. But, although language, as theoretical product, is fully analysed in psychology, it does not mean that spirit, taken as soul or consciousness, is not able to express itself linguistically. In my view, psychology represents a higher order of explanation of the same rationality, thus anthropology, phenomenology and psychology differ by form and not by degree. 4See Enz. C. § 442, Z. Elisa Magrì Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos ano. 8, n. 15, v.1 70 universality devoid of any immediate content. Also, memory is not simply nameretention, since, as productive memory, it is concerned with the creation of signs as well. One could say, recalling the language of Phenomenology, that intelligence alienates itself into signs, which manifest spirit's activity. Furthermore, since the linguistic connection of words and meanings is accidental, memory transforms accidentality in necessity by positing itself as the universal space of names as such (Enz. C, § 463). This means that, in so far as intelligence thinks, as it does in normal life, spirit uses language automatically according to its semantic and syntactical relations without taking into account any intuitive element. Memory is the proper habit of intelligence5, because «the mechanical feature in memory lies merely in the fact that certain signs, tones, etc. are apprehended in their purely external association, and then reproduced in this association, without attention being expressly directed to their meaning and inward association» (M. INWOOD, 2010, p. 511). When it is completely developed, memory is just a strong connection of signs devoid of any intuitive content and this represents the external mode of thought's existence (Enz. C, § 463, Z). Memory turns directly into thinking as intelligence habituates itself to reproducing its inner identity as concrete universality 6 . This passage is one of the most important of the entire psychology, for it shows that thinking is not something different from memory, but it develops inside of memory itself. Once memory has turned every external and subjective content inward, thinking can freely relate to reality. In fact, reality is nothing but the stable communication between determined representations. Furthermore, since memory has removed every intuitive side, one can say that thinking acquires its own way of determination by simply referring to itself. Thanks to memory, thinking depends only on its own activity, so it does not act as a conscience toward an object. Of course, ordinary thinking (denken) is not immediately conceptual (begreifen): in order to have concepts intelligence must decide to think logically. Intelligence comes to logical reason when it wants to think, since the form of the concept removes the remaining externality between thinking and reality. Nevertheless, memory explains how thinking is necessarily connected to itself in order to develop as "substantial totality". 5See Enz. C, § 410, Z. See also S. HOULGATE (1996). 6 See also H. F. FULDA (1991). Elisa Magrì Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos ano. 8, n. 15, v.1 71 Actually, the transition from representation to Denken corresponds to the transition from essence to the Concept, as I will now attempt to clarify. This correspondence is not intended to affirm an isomorphism between psychology and logic, as if psychology should underly logic or vice versa. On the contrary, my aim is to reconstruct ontology and theoretical activity as a proper unity. We would not have the logical succession from being to the Concept, if they did not mirror the theoretical transition from intuition to thinking. Therefore, the correspondence between memory and essence should not be understood as a rule, bur rather it might suggest some reflections upon the systematic deduction of Hegelian Begriff. 2. As we well-know, SL has nothing to do neither with psychological faculties, nor with representations. Although Hegel admits in the preface to the second edition of SL that the forms of thought are exhibited by language, there is no way to suppose the SL in whatever connection to subjective thinking. Contrary to Burbidge (J. W. BURBIDGE, 2003), I will not argue that there should be a kind of isomorphism between logic and subjective spirit, for this kind of interpretation is not able to explain the reason of such common structure. In Burbidge's explanation, psychology and logic seem external patterns of thought, which have the same structure only considering the Idea. As the Idea is divided into the idea of truth and the idea of good, in the same way the philosophy of subjective spirit is divided into theoretical and practical spirit. In sum, we do not get any explanation of the reason why logic and psychology do share a common structure. On the contrary, I believe we should be able to compare logic and psychology as different Gestalten of the same movement, which becomes more complex as we discover new perspectives and explanations regarding the structure of movement itself. Here I will focus on the arising of the Concept, which establishes the distinction between objective and subjective logic. These passages focus on the transition from essence to the Concept and, in my view, they provide the logical structure of the transition from Vorstellung to Begriff as mediated by a logical memory. Essence arises as the internal mediation of being, when «being recollects (erinnert) itself». Hegelian scholars do not stress so much this statement, although it occurs a few times at the beginning of the Doctrine of essence. Angelica Nuzzo gave a stimulating interpretation of it, claiming that «Erinnerung is one of the forms that Elisa Magrì Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos ano. 8, n. 15, v.1 72 dialectic as method assumes in Hegel's Philosophy of Spirit; the proof of its legitimacy as method of thinking is provided by the logic» (A. NUZZO, 2006, p. 94). Although I generally agree with Nuzzo's interpretation, I wish to deepen how the structure of Erinnerung is integrated into essence. Also, I shall reconstruct the speculative transition from Erinnerung to Gedächtnis within essence. By Erinnerung Hegel refers to a kind of self-intuition, that is, in the context of the SL, to a new logical form, whose reference does not belong to something external, but to itself. This is the first great evolutionary step since being. Unlike the transitive negation of being, reflective negativity consists in the internal division of being from itself. This means that categories are no longer external to each other and they do not disappear in their connection, as quality and quantity do, because essential relations arise from their self-division. The more categories turn back into and deepen themselves, the more they subsist by referring to themselves. This shift of reference allows a new kind of thought, which is analogous to the arising of Vorstellung described in the Psychology of the Encyclopedia: «Aber die andere Seite der Diremtion ist, die Form als unendliche Reflexion in sich zu setzen, das Erwachen der Intelligenz zu sich selbst in diesem Stoff, ihre Erinnerung in sich in demselben; so ist er der ihrige, und sie hat dessen Unmittelbarkeit und Finden nicht mehr nöthig – das Vorstellen» (Enz. B, § 450) 7 . Erinnerung corresponds to Reflexion in sich, it is spirit's awakening, since intelligence recognizes the content of intuitions as its own, thereby spirit's activity does not consist in finding the object, but rather in distinguishing objectivity from its inner constitution. Similarly, logical Erinnerung is the way by which being splits up into opposite sides of its own, its self-identity and its other. This is, at the same time, the transition from immediateness to Vorstellung. Essential categories, such as whole-andparts, force-and-its-expression, inner-and-outer, reproduces the form of representation, which posits determinations according to the rule of identity and contradiction. Nevertheless, this development does not lead directly to the Concept, for the structure of reason is not reducible to Vorstellung. What is then the novelty that gives essence its proper organization, so that it does not rely on external relationships, but 7The passage deals with the arising of representation from intuition, when intelligence is totally externalized in its concrete content. Enz. C, § 450 is slightly modified, but the meaning is the same. This Elisa Magrì Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos ano. 8, n. 15, v.1 73 rather on an absolute connection? In the middle of essence another movement occurs, which is not a mere externalization, but rather it is the manifestation of absolute [Manifestation]: «The actual is therefore manifestation; it is not drawn into the sphere of alteration by its externality, nor is it the reflecting of itself in an other, but it manifests itself; that is, in its externality it is itself and is itself in that alone, namely only as a self-distinguishing and self-determining movement» (SL, p. 542). The manifestation of absolute is different from the alteration of being as well as from the reflection of essence, for it is no more based on the form of reference to whatever else, but on the movement of selfdistinguishing. This is a novelty, as it implies a more complex dynamics corresponding to what Kant would have explained under the category of modality. Whereas Erinnerung means that the logical form has been divided from itself and confronted by its other, absolute actuality shows how the form becomes active toward itself 8 . It is possible now to understand why essential relationships, such as whole-and-parts, forceand-its-expression, inner-and-outer, are still incomplete and do not achieve the level of the Concept. The problem lies in the fact that, until logical determination is confronted by its other, externality remains as the necessary distance implied in every relation. In order to get the logical form which explains how thought is the unity with its other, we need to overcome relation as such. This is the reason why Hegel uses a different word for absolute relation, which is Verhältnis instead of the more common Beziehung. Whereas Beziehung refers to an external connection, Verhältnis points out an inner relation: «It is relation [Verhältnis]9 because it is a distinguishing whose moments are themselves its whole totality, and therefore absolutely subsist, but in such a manner that there is only one subsistence and the difference is only the illusory being, the reflective movement, of the expository process, and this illusory being [Schein], the reflective movement, of the expository process, and this illusory statement did not occur in Enz. A. 8SL, p. 546: «Real actuality as such is in the first instance the thing of many properties, the existent world; but it is not the Existence that resolves itself into Appearance, but, as actuality, it is at the same time the in-itself and reflection-into-self; it preserves itself in the manifoldness of mere Existence; its externality is an inner relationship to itself alone. What is actual can act; something manifests its actuality through what which it produces». 9It is difficult to translate the difference between Beziehung and Verhältnis into English, as Miller himself does not make any distinction (both are intended as "relation"). Hereafter I will keep the German words whenever it is necessary to highlight the difference between them. Elisa Magrì Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos ano. 8, n. 15, v.1 74 being is the absolute itself» (SL, p. 554). Subsistence [bestehen] contrasts the disappearing of being in otherness as well as the reflection of essence. Furthermore, subsistence includes appearance as its own difference, that is, as its own way to manifest itself in the same way in which light «is neither something nor a thing, but its being is only its showing or shining» (id.ibid.). In this sense, absolute relation is substance «as Verhältnis to itself» (SL, p. 553). The metaphor of light is not accidental, since it highlights the difference between substantiality and the previous logical determinations. Contrary to being and essence, substance explains the dynamic movement of the logical form without introducing further divisions. This is possible since substance itself is the totality of being, which has integrated reflection into itself. This corresponds equally to the sublation of Vorstellung by means of a logical memory. In fact, if we focus on substance's activity, we can notice that the original analogy to Erinnerung is replaced by an implicit analogy to Gedächtnis. For the sake of brevity, I will refer just to essence's final movement, which is concerned with the absolute relation and, more precisely, with the category of causality. By causality substance determines itself, because cause and effect are intrinsically connected by their reciprocal presupposition. Hegel proceeds by arguing the mechanical character of causality through the category of action-reaction 10 . This relation lies in the opposition between an active against a passive substance. It implies that the substance which is acted upon also becomes cause, running into infinite progress, that is, into an infinite reciprocal action. Therefore, action-reaction relation turns into reciprocity, where «mechanism is sublated; for it contains first the vanishing of that original persistence of the immediate substantiality, and secondly the coming-to-be of the cause, and hence originativeness as self-mediating through its negation» ( SL, p. 569). This means that substance does not simply act on itself, but its movement has become independent even from a first cause. It reproduces itself spontaneously, turning difference into free actuality in such a manner that causality is the Concept. Causality 10SL, p. 503: «Mechanism consists in this externality of causality, where the reflection of the cause into itself in its effect is at the same time a repelling being, or where, in the self-identity which the causal substance has in its effect, the cause equally remains something immediately external to it, and the effect has passed over into another substance». Elisa Magrì Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos ano. 8, n. 15, v.1 75 leads into the concept because the mechanical action-reaction relation becomes the manifestation of thinking's inner identity. Only in this way does necessity become the unity of being with itself that has itself as ground. It should be noted that memory's activity is described by Hegel in the same way of substance's causality. Memory is causally active upon intelligence, because it forces thinking to leave aside intuitions and subjective representations in order to turn itself into an object, that is, into linguistic signs. Without language, intelligence cannot achieve thinking, because spirit sublates itself through language into universal meanings. However, thinking cannot be reduced to language, for intelligence is also the power to determine logical concepts. Memory provides intelligence with the capacity to think and it does not explain the structure of the will necessary to achieve logical concepts. Nonetheless, by habituating itself to using language, spirit recognizes itself in its linguistic production and thereby is able to think logically. Similarly, the logical development of substantiality mirrors the transition from Vorstellung to Denken as substance's habit to refer to itself. Note that this does not mean that every mechanism should lead to the Concept, but that the concept of mechanism opens up the way to the Concept 11 . Going through the logical form of mechanism, substance loses its immediacy and the same distinction between passive and active disappears. Whereas Erinnerung points out spirit's awakening to itself, mechanical memory provides rationality with its own beisichsein, that is, with its own organized and self-determined structure. 3. As a conclusion I wish to explain further why the notion of self-reference is relevant in Hegel's philosophy, especially when talking about conceptual thinking. The mnemonic structure I find out both in psychology and logic aims to deduce a stable form of self-reference, because this is the only way for thinking to determine itself. It is important to notice that self-reference is not a mere tautology, but a fully developed relation. Substance's self-reference is the way by which reflection is integrated into 11It is important to distinguish between the mechanical character of action-reaction relation and the mechanism described in the Subjective Logic as a specific moment of Objectivity. Whereas the latter regards the emergence of Concept into existence, the former deals with the arise of Concept itself. One could say that a mechanical feature always lies in the structure of conceptual activity and Hegel himself introduces mechanism as a general character. See SL, p. 711. Elisa Magrì Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos ano. 8, n. 15, v.1 76 being, so that categories do not correspond to Vorstellung anymore, but provide the structure of thinking. In addition, since Hegel does not conceive of memory as a mere deposit of past experiences and representations, the causal element in logic is very noticeable. Causality explains why memory could not be reduced to retention, because, in order to make thinking possible, memory must produce a constraint on rationality, and this constraint is exactly the mechanical nexus between the self and its own being. Once this connection is firmly and dynamically established, thinking can freely explicate itself. Yet, self-reference should not be confused with self-consciousness or selfawareness, otherwise it would not be logic at all, but it would revert back to phenomenology. The difference between these two concepts lies in the fact that to be self-aware means to be acquainted with an experience in its first-person mode of giveness, that is, from "within" 12 . On the contrary, self-reference does not refer to a first-person experience at all, but it points out just the relation, the logical form that is necessary in order to establish a connection between the self and its otherness. The aim of self-reference is not to disclose an act of self-perception, rather to give thinking its proper openness, that is, to make thinking oriented toward its alterity and selfdifferentiation. REFERENCES: BURBIDGE J. W. (2003), Das Erkennen und der endliche Geist, in "Der Begriff als die Wahrheit". Zum Anfang der hegelschen "Subjektive Logik" hrsg A. F. Koch, A. Oberauer, K. Utz, Schöningh, Paderborn/München/Wien/Zürich, pp. 211-222 FERRARIN A. (2001), Hegel and Aristotle, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge FULDA H. F. (1991), Vom Gedächtnis zum Denken in Psychologie und Anthropologie oder Philosophie des Geistes, Beiträge zu einer Hegel-Tagung in Marburg 1989, hrsg von F. Hespe und B. Tuschling, Frommann-Holzboog, StuttgartBad Cannstatt, 321360 HOULGATE S. (1996), Hegel, Derrida and Restricted Economy: the Case of Mechanical Memory, «Journal of the History of Philosophy», 34/1, 79-93 INWOOD M. (2010), A commentary on Hegel's Philosophy of Mind, Oxford University 12See also: D. ZAHAVI (1999). Elisa Magrì Self-reference And Logical Memory in Hegel's Theory of the Concept Revista Eletrônica Estudos Hegelianos ano. 8, n. 15, v.1 77 Press, Oxford NUZZO A. (2006), Dialectical Memory, Thinking and Recollecting. Logic and Psychology in Hegel, in Mémoire et souvenir. Six études sur Platon, Aristote, Hegel et Husserl, sous la direction de A. Brancacci et G. Gigliotti, Bibliopolis, Napoli, pp. 89120 WINFIELD R. D. (2010), Hegel and Mind. Rethinking Philosophical Psychology, Houndmills, Palgrave Macmillan ZAHAVI D. (1999), Self-Awareness and Alterity. A Phenomenological Investigation, Nothwestern University Press, Illinois Artigo recebido em dezembro de 2011 Artigo aceito para publicação em fevereiro de
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
1 Achieving global justice: Why failures matter more than ideals David Wiens The chapters that follow are concerned to specify reforms with the aim of "mak[ing] global institutions work better for the people who need them most."1 Much of the work is done close to the ground, concerned with specific structural flaws of particular institutions. But there is a pervading sense that reforming these institutions is not only prudent but morally imperative; that failure to advance the interests of the deprived and oppressed is a failure of justice. This sense of injustice has been sharpened by the numerous high profile popular protests launched against key international institutions, from Seattle (1999), Gleneagles (2005), and Toronto (2010) to the various Occupy movements that have emerged in the wake of the 2008 Global Financial Crisis. As if responding to these demands, proposals for ad hoc institutional reforms now line the shelves of bookstores.2 Yet how can we make systematic sense of these charges of injustice? Which general normative principles might we adopt to guide our efforts to reform global social and political institutions? These are the questions of normative political philosophy. Following John Rawls,3 the predominant methodology among political philosophers for answering these questions is summed up in the mantra "ideal theory precedes nonideal theory." Roughly, nonideal theory specifies how we should respond to injustice amidst unfavorable circumstances, whereas ideal theory identifies normative principles that constitute a fully just institutional scheme. According to the conventional wisdom, we can identify morally progressive institutional reforms only if we have a picture of fully 2 just institutions in view.4 Yet many suspect that such a methodology cannot but yield normative guidelines that are too utopian to help guide institutional reform in the "here and now". My aim in this chapter is twofold. First, siding with the skeptics, I challenge the view that ideal normative principles offer appropriate guidelines for our efforts to identify morally progressive institutional reform strategies. I shall call this view the "ideal guidance approach." Second, I develop an alternative methodological approach to specifying nonideal normative principles, which I call the "failure analysis approach." I contrast these alternatives using examples from the global justice literature, showing that a failure analytic approach is better suited to the task of specifying morally progressive standards to guide the process of reforming global institutions given their particular flaws. The ideal guidance approach Unlike the other chapters in this volume, the central issue here is a rather abstract one, concerning the relationship between ideal normative principles and the normative guidelines we should adopt for identifying morally progressive institutional reform strategies. The central tenet of the ideal guidance approach is that ideal normative principles provide useful guidelines for morally progressive reform efforts. Before evaluating this claim, let us specify what is meant by "ideal normative principles" and "morally progressive reform." Ideal normative principles specify the broad contours of a fully just society. These principles define the core requirements of our commitment to certain basic moral and social values, such as individual freedom, social equality, or cooperative society. To 3 do so, they enumerate the general rights and obligations of agents in political society and identify the constitutive features of social and political institutions that fulfill our basic values to the greatest extent possible. There is, of course, some limit to how utopian ideal principles can be; for example, they cannot assume that we have unlimited material resources at our disposal or that individuals are completely virtuous or altruistic. Aside from these broad constraints, theorists generally specify ideal principles assuming circumstances that are more or less favorable for establishing institutions that fulfill our moral and social values as fully as possible. To illustrate, consider cosmopolitan discussions pertaining to global justice. Cosmopolitans share a commitment to several basic values-in particular, respect for individuals as the units of ultimate moral concern and the moral equality of individuals, regardless of race, gender, nationality, or citizenship. The practical requirements of a commitment to these basic values are indeterminate, but they can be made more determinate by normative principles that specify the constitutive features of a fully just global institutional scheme. Examples include: Global equality of opportunity: "[P]ersons of different nations should enjoy equal opportunities: no one should face worse opportunities because of their nationality."5 Global difference principle: Global "social and economic inequalities are to be arranged so that they are... to the greatest benefit of the least advantaged."6 Global basic needs satisfaction: All individuals should "be adequately positioned to enjoy the prospects for a decent life, ... includ[ing] what is necessary 4 to be enabled to meet [their] basic needs and those of [their] dependents..., and certain protections for basic freedom."7 The details of the arguments for these principles do not matter here. What matters is that these principles (1) purport to identify constitutive features of an institutional scheme that best fulfills basic cosmopolitan values, and (2) are specified assuming circumstances that are generally favorable for realizing cosmopolitan values. Identifying ideal principles is the business of ideal theory.8 Nonideal theory aims to identify feasible and morally progressive strategies for responding to injustice amidst nonideal circumstances. The prescribed reforms must be feasible, in the sense that we can be reasonably expected to implement them given the (financial, technological, motivational, institutional, etc.) resources we have at our disposal.9 They must be morally progressive, in the sense that we can reasonably expect the prescribed reforms to advance the realization of our basic moral and social values. Any nonideal theory must identify core normative principles, principles that serve as normative guidelines for our reform efforts. The conventional assumption among political philosophers is that morally progressive reforms should make steady progress toward fulfilling our ideal principles. The underlying reasoning goes as follows. If we aim to implement morally progressive reforms, we require a measure of progress. One might naturally think that such a measure "makes essential reference to the ultimate target, the ideal of perfect justice."10 Accordingly, political philosophers conventionally understand core nonideal principles as identifying transitional steps from the status quo to the realization of an institutional scheme that satisfies our ideal principles. Put simply, ideal principles should serve as guidelines for nonideal theory. This is the central maxim 5 of the ideal guidance approach. One immediate concern arises for the ideal guidance approach as presented, namely, that it fails to consider whether implementing ideal principles is feasible.11 This worry arises because ideal principles are typically specified assuming "ideal" circumstances: general compliance with core principles, low opportunity and transaction costs, few barriers to cooperative collective action, and so on. It is largely uncontroversial that an infeasible institutional ideal does not provide a practical target for reform efforts. But one might reply that ideal principles remain useful guidelines for nonideal theory insofar as we can approximate the ideal even if we cannot fully implement it. The "general theory of second best"12 occludes this approximation move. As I show elsewhere,13 the theorem implies that if one (or more) of our ideal principles remains unsatisfied as specified, then the set of core principles that best fulfills our basic values does not necessarily include the remaining ideal principles, even if their requirements can still be met. This is because our political principles must account for various interdependencies among our basic values.14 For example, our valuation of individual freedom (however conceived) likely depends on the extent to which other values are manifest, such as physical security or community. Relatedly, the extent to which individual freedom is manifest might depend on the extent to which we are physically secure or live within a supportive community. When (1) we are committed to realizing more than one basic value, (2) our basic values are interdependent in either of these ways, and (3) these interdependencies are not linear, the theory of second best shows that we cannot straightforwardly estimate how nonideal principles must deviate from ideal principles. Quite simply, ideal principles that cannot be implemented are an 6 unreliable-and so useless-guide for nonideal theory. Infeasible ideals provide no guidance for nonideal theory. Can feasible ideals do any better? The risk of latent failures I start by noting that our specification of normative guidelines for institutional reform must be context sensitive. The extent to which a set of core normative principles fulfills our basic moral and social values is sensitive to the conditions in which the principles are implemented. Since the point of morally progressive institutional reform is to better realize our basic values, the principles we should adopt as guidelines for institutional reform should be those that would realize our basic values to the fullest extent possible were they implemented in our circumstances. For instance, whether we should adopt a global equality of opportunity principle as a normative guideline for global institutional reform depends on the extent to which that principle (together with any other principles we adopt) would realize our cosmopolitan values were we to implement it in our current circumstances. It is not obvious that ideal principles would do a very good job of realizing our basic values were they implemented in nonideal circumstances. Consider the global difference principle, which requires that global social and economic inequalities be arranged so as to maximize the prospects of the global poor. According to both Rawls and those who (unlike Rawls) extend the difference principle to the global level,15 the difference principle is part of a package of principles that, taken together, are supposed to best fulfill our commitment to values like impartiality, equality, fairness, and respect for persons. Suppose a fully just global institutional scheme is, in part, constituted by the 7 global difference principle. Should we adopt this principle as a normative guideline for global institutional reform? To raise some doubts that we should, consider Figure 1.1. The x-axis represents the distributive share of talented and otherwise advantaged individuals, represented by X1; the y-axis represents the distributive share of individuals with the worst life prospects, represented by X2.16 The 45° line represents all points in the space where the two individuals' shares are strictly equal. Given Rawls's assumption that strict equality is to be preferred unless a departure improves the absolute position of X2, the dashed horizontal lines are the moral indifference curves. Let a contribution curve represent the set of feasible distributive shares given some assumptions about the differential rewards that would induce talented and otherwise advantaged individuals to contribute to overall social production. Since X1 is assumed to be better off, a contribution curve lies below the 45° line everywhere except the origin. [FIGURE 1.1 ABOUT HERE.] Let the curve OC be the compliance contribution curve, the curve that would obtain were Rawls's equal basic liberties principle to obtain. The equal basic liberties principle requires that each person enjoy the most extensive package of basic rights consistent with everyone enjoying the same package of rights.17 The difference principle requires an institutional scheme that yields the distributive shares represented by the point where OC is tangent to the highest indifference curve; in this case, the point where X1 receives a and X2 receives d. This distribution is morally preferred to strict equality-which is realized at O-because it yields a greater absolute share for X2. Any point beyond a on the x-axis is deemed unjust. 8 The difference principle specifies the ratio a/d as the optimal limit on permissible inequality for circumstances where the equal basic liberties principle is fulfilled. But the equal basic liberties principle is not fulfilled at the global level in our world and its fulfillment does not appear forthcoming anytime soon. As several contributions to this volume show, there is gross disparity in the rights people effectively enjoy in different countries and there is staunch resistance to efforts to reduce this disparity among numerous powerful global actors. Failure to satisfy the equal basic liberties principle will likely result in a different contribution curve. This noncompliance contribution curve might take the shape of ON (see Figure 1.1), for several reasons. Labor rights disparities allow multinational corporations to take advantage of disparate labor standards to increase their profits; powerful countries are able to extract profitable concessions fairly cheaply from countries where citizens have no effective rights to hold their government accountable18; unbalanced trade treaties, which encode differential rights and privileges to engage in protective measures, grant competitive advantages to farmers and manufacturers in developed countries. These rights disparities have two potential consequences. First, they diminish the amount of social wealth genuinely available to the worst-off; this reduces their expected prospects, as indicated by the difference between d and e. Second, and relatedly, rights disparities allow the better-off to demand a greater share of the total social product in exchange for their contributions to social production. This is represented by the difference between b and a. At the point at which the noncompliance curve is tangent to the highest indifference curve, X1 receives b and X2 receives e. The difference principle permits departures from strict equality up to the point b/e when the equal basic liberties principles is not fulfilled. 9 From Figure 1.1, we see that the extent to which implementing a global difference principle fulfills our commitment to values like impartiality, equality, and respect for persons depends on important features of the context in which the principle is to be implemented-in this case, whether individuals enjoy roughly equal packages of rights. Whether a global difference principle realizes our basic values to the fullest extent given actual circumstances depends on how the distributive consequences of implementing that principle (together with others) compare to the consequences of implementing some other distributive principle. It seems prima facie implausible that, in a world marked by gross rights disparities, the distributive principle that best realizes our basic values would permit increased inequality, as the global difference principle does. This intuition is strengthened once we acknowledge the corrosive political effects of great inequality. Plausibly, the best principle for regulating inequalities when individuals enjoy such disparate packages of rights would locate the limit on inequality somewhere other than b/e-perhaps at the point along the x-axis represented by c.19 Such a principle decreases X2's prospects slightly in exchange for a drastic reduction in inequality. A principle that locates the limit here can be given a reasonable justification: given that individuals do not enjoy similar packages of rights, we must limit permissible inequalities to c/f to prevent the better-off from acquiring the additional advantages that come with great relative wealth. To be clear, the foregoing does not show that we should reject the global difference principle as a normative guideline for institutional reform. Rather, I have shown that we cannot simply infer from the fact that ideal principles would best realize our basic values if implemented in favorable circumstances that they would also advance 10 realization of our basic values were they implemented in actual circumstances. The problem here is that our analysis of ideal principles can obscure latent failures.20 When we analyze an ideal institutional scheme, we are analyzing the successful implementation of ideal principles in favorable circumstances. As Figure 1.1 shows, the consequences of implementing an ideal principle with respect to the realization of our basic values depends on certain contextual variables. What we do not see when we analyze an ideal institutional scheme is the consequences that would arise if we were to implement the ideal principles under different background conditions. The risk is that implementing ideal principles in status quo circumstances would lead to social failures. Here, failure is measured relative to the optimal realization of our basic values within a given set of constraints. A set of core normative principles fails if there is an alternative set of principles that can be implemented and that better realizes our basic values given the circumstances. Importantly, to qualify as a failure, a set of principles need not fail along every particular value dimension taken in isolation. There might not be a feasible alternative to a set of ideal principles that does a better job of realizing, say, the value of cooperative society. An alternative set of core principles need not do a better job along each dimension to constitute an improvement over the set of ideal principles; it need only do a better overall job of fulfilling our basic values taken as a package. What my discussion of the global difference principle shows is that ideal principles might well do a lousy job of realizing our basic values if implemented in nonideal circumstances. Whether ideal principles present useful guidelines for nonideal institutional reform depends on whether they can be successfully implemented given 11 status quo conditions. Determining whether ideal principles can be successfully implemented given status quo conditions requires undertaking at least the following analyses. In the first place, we must analyze what would happen if we were to undertake a series of reforms that could eventuate in an institutional scheme that satisfies the ideal principles; in particular, we must determine how well the completed reforms satisfy the full package of our moral and social values. We must also sort out the environmental features that constrain the realization of our basic values, which includes assessment of the factors generating extant social failures, as well as the extent to which feasible alternative core principles satisfy our basic values on the whole. Hence, whether we should adopt ideal principles as normative guidelines for institutional reform cannot be settled until we have sorted out which core principles best satisfy our basic values given the status quo circumstances. My argument can be summarized as follows: (1) We are commissioned to reform an institutional scheme in context C; (2) Ideal principles best realize our moral and social values when implemented in context C* (so I've been assuming); (3) The extent to which a set of core normative principles realizes a set of moral and social values depends on the context in which those principles are implemented; (4) The successful implementation of ideal principles in C* conceals the ways in which their implementation in C might fail to realize our moral and social values; (5) Whether and to what extent ideal principles can realize our moral and social values when implemented in C can only be settled upon completing a comparative assessment of the extent to which different packages of core normative principles would realize our moral and social values if they were implemented in C. 12 Let us use the phrase "optimizing principles" to refer to the core normative principles that optimally realize our moral and social values given status quo circumstances. If, upon carrying out the aforementioned analyses, we discover that ideal principles diverge from the optimizing principles, then we should adopt the latter as normative guidelines for our institutional reform efforts. If the ideal principles turn out to match the optimizing principles, then we should implement the ideal principles. But notice that, if this is the case, the ideal principles will not serve as guidelines for nonideal theory in virtue of representing the normative ideal. Instead, we adopt ideal principles as practical guidelines only if we expect them to optimally realize our moral and social values under status quo circumstances when compared with alternative sets of core normative principles. My argument thus suggests that ideal principles are neither necessary nor sufficient for specifying normative guidelines for global institutional reform under status quo circumstances.21 They are not sufficient because we cannot responsibly prescribe ideal principles as practical guidelines simply on the basis that they constitute an ideal institutional structure. They are not necessary because our reasoning to nonideal normative principles can proceed entirely from a comparative analysis of the extent to which different packages of principles are expected to realize our basic values in particular nonideal circumstances. My argument also suggests a stronger claim, namely, that ideal principles qua ideal principles are not even particularly helpful for our reasoning to nonideal normative principles. This is because, if we wind up recommending ideal principles to guide our reform efforts, the fact that they also happen to constitute a fully just institutional scheme is superfluous in our reasoning.22 13 Two final notes before proceeding. First, my argument does not take a stand on whether there are universal normative principles-principles that invariably apply across all circumstances-or whether normative principles must be context-dependent, in the sense that the appropriateness of their application in particular contexts is ultimately explained by appeal to certain contextual variables and not to some more fundamental universal principle.23 My argument hangs only on the claim that contextual variables determine the extent to which implementing a set of core principles realizes our basic values. Thus, our selection of nonideal normative principles must be sensitive to the relevant features of the circumstances in which those principles are to be implemented. This is consistent with admitting either universal basic values or universal principles whose application is sensitive to contextual variables.24 Second, my argument does not turn on the extent to which ideal principles are specified assuming idealized circumstances; thus, whether ideal theory employs "good" or "bad" idealizations is irrelevant.25 My argument rests on two key premises: first, that ideal principles are specified assuming circumstances that differ in important ways from the circumstances in which we must implement our prescribed reform strategies; and, second, that we cannot assume that the normative principles that optimally realize our basic values in one context will also optimally realize our basic values in another context. These two points imply that our specification of nonideal normative principles cannot infer anything from our finding that ideal principles optimally realize our basic values in circumstances that differ in important respects from the status quo.26 The failure analysis approach Since ideal principles are not much help when specifying normative guidelines for 14 institutional reform in nonideal circumstances, where should we turn for guidance? If we aim to specify nonideal normative principles that have critical purchase, that do not simply license the status quo, where should our theorizing start? The preceding discussion suggests that we should start by analyzing the ways in which the institutional status quo falls short with respect to our basic moral and social values. That is, we should start with an analysis of the ways in which current institutions engender failures. Departing from the ideal guidance approach, the failure analysis approach identifies a set of core normative principles that optimally realizes our basic values given the salient features of the circumstances in which the reform must occur. These principles are still conceived as enumerating the general rights and obligations of agents in political society and identifying the constitutive features of social and political institutions that best fulfill our basic moral and social values. The difference is the set of circumstances that are taken as constraints on the specification of core normative principles. On the failure analysis approach, specifying core normative principles is a five step process. The first step identifies social failures. Importantly, failures are not identified by noting the ways in which the status quo falls short of an ideal institutional scheme. Instead, failures are identified by noting the ways in which the status quo falls short with respect to our basic values. The second step undertakes a diagnosis of those features of the status quo that causally generate social failures. The third step identifies alternate institutional schemes that could overcome current failures given our assessment of the factors that currently prevent us from overcoming these failures. The fourth step assesses the extent to which these alternatives can be expected to fulfill our moral and social values given our actual circumstances. The fifth step anticipates the potential 15 failures that could arise from implementing these alternative institutions, as well as the possibilities for future improvement that we can reasonably expect these alternatives to afford. The principles that constitute the alternative institutional scheme that emerges from this five step analytic program-the institutional scheme that performs best with respect to our basic values given status quo conditions-are the normative principles we prescribe as practical guidelines for institutional reform.27 Geoffrey Robertson's discussion of the UN in this volume partially illustrates the failure analysis approach. 28 The UN's underperformance with respect to its stated aim of protecting the vulnerable from violence and deprivation are well-documented, with its main political bodies-the Security Council and General Assembly-being the most frequent target of calls for reform. Robertson traces this organizational underperformance to a more obscure failure: the lack of procedural justice in the UN's employment practices. This failure encouraged "a culture both nepotistic and diplomatic, that undervalues 'merit' and true qualifications in employment and promotion decision and looks [instead] to regional groupings, state nominees, and 'diplomatic' considerations".29 The result was systemic corruption and incompetence. In view of these failures, reforms to the UN's internal justice system were implemented, including the establishment of independent judicial bodies designed to enforce transparent and fair rules in UN employment decisions. Although there remains room for improvement, the outcome of the reforms has been largely positive, resulting in improved service delivery to the poor and oppressed. To contrast the failure analysis approach more clearly with the ideal guidance approach, let us return to my earlier discussion of cosmopolitan principles of global 16 justice. A cosmopolitan failure analyst can agree with the ideal guidance cosmopolitan that widespread deprivation of the sort we find in Afghanistan or Somalia constitutes an utter failure with respect to cosmopolitan values. The practical question is how to address these failures. The ideal guidance cosmopolitan's starting point for answering this question is to figure out which normative principles constitute a fully just institutional scheme. In contrast, the cosmopolitan failure analyst starts by analyzing the causal processes that engender the target deprivations. Although it is beyond the scope of this chapter to present a compelling diagnosis of global deprivations, I sketch some diagnostic considerations that cosmopolitans have routinely neglected to further illustrate how careful diagnostic work frames the failure analyst's specification of core normative principles. Consider the following diagnostic question: Why do some countries witness successful political and economic development (and, so, increase their citizens' chances at a worthwhile life), while others fail miserably (and, so, decrease their citizens' chances at a worthwhile life)? There is still a live debate on this issue, but there is an emerging consensus among social scientists that, broadly speaking, the nature of domestic institutions is an important determinant of development outcomes. Certain public goods such as the rule of law and government accountability constitute positive political development. These goods, as well as secure property rights, physical infrastructure, a healthy and educated labor force, and a stable macroeconomic environment (among others), are also key determinants of economic development.30 Unfortunately, political leaders typically use their political power to enhance development only when there are institutional mechanisms that empower constituents to constrain their leaders to advance their interests.31 Hence, development-enhancing 17 institutions impose opportunity costs on public officials; in particular, political elites must forego opportunities for corruption, inefficient economic transfers, discretionary (i.e., arbitrary) use of coercion, and other forms of private gain.32 Why, then, would a government establish the institutional arrangements needed for successful development given these costs? One venerable tradition argues that political leaders accept institutional limits on their power as a means to making credible commitments to prospective supporters. Political leaders typically require support from some subset of their constituents to retain political power, be it as a source of revenue, political support, or military assistance to defeat a rival. To secure their support, leaders offer policy concessions to those whose support is necessary for retaining office. Without any mechanism to bind the leader to follow through on his promise, prospective supporters rationally discount his offer. If potential supporters' alternative to cooperating with the leader-placing their money in investments that evade taxation, politically supporting a challenger, engaging in armed rebellion-promises to be more valuable than the discounted value of the leader's offer, then supporters can credibly threaten to withhold their support if the leader fails to keep his promise. Hence, if the required supporters have credible "exit threats," the leader must solve a commitment problem to attract the necessary support. To overcome this problem, the leader implements institutional mechanisms that constrain him to follow through on his promise and, thus, make his offer credible.33 This dynamic applies to both democracies and dictatorships. When political leaders require cooperation from constituents, they are induced to bargain over policy with prospective supporters. When those supporters can credibly threaten to withhold support, political leaders must give up 18 some control over future policy decisions in exchange for political support in the present.34 The crucial point here is that countries develop successfully when individuals have sufficient bargaining leverage to compel their leaders to accept institutional limits on their political power as a way to signal a credible commitment to advancing supporters' interests. In view of this bit of diagnosis, a cosmopolitan failure analyst's core normative principles would be sensitive to the importance of individuals' bargaining leverage vis-avis their political leaders. Which principles constitute an institutional scheme that enhances individuals' bargaining leverage? At this point, the answer is not at all clear, as it depends on a great deal of empirical research yet to be done. In any case, a positive institutional prescription is beyond the scope of this chapter. My point here is simply to illustrate how a diagnosis of extant global deprivations might inform our specification of core normative principles for global institutional reform. None of the foregoing rules out the possibility that a cosmopolitan failure analysis may well endorse cosmopolitan ideal principles in the end. What my argument denies is that we can sensibly adopt cosmopolitan ideal principles as guidelines for institutional reform simply in virtue of the fact that they constitute a fully just global institutional scheme. To support adoption of cosmopolitan ideal principles as guidelines for nonideal theory, cosmopolitans must do more than speculatively suggest some mechanisms by which their institutional ideals could initiate some hypothetical causal process that, given favorable operating circumstances, yields improvements with respect to cosmopolitan values. Simply showing how their institutional ideals might operate under conducive conditions is insufficient to make the case. We must instead show that the prescribed 19 institutions are likely to interact with the causal processes generating the target failure in ways that enhance our realization of cosmopolitan values. Showing this requires, first, an analysis of the causal processes generating the status quo; second, an investigation of the ways in which the prescribed institutional scheme would interact with extant causal processes; and, third, an assessment of whether this interaction would yield greater realization of our basic values.35 Conclusion There is a pervading sense - shared among citizens, scholars, and practitioners - that the global institutional status quo is unjust and in need of deep reform. Political philosophers are attempting to come to grips with this sense of injustice in a systematic way. But the prevailing ideal guidance approach to specifying general normative guidelines for global institutional reform is suspect. This is because it adopts ideal principles as normative guidelines without attending to the ways in which implementing those principles in status quo circumstances might fail to realize our basic moral and social values. This does not mean that implementing cosmopolitans' ideal principles is doomed to fail. My point is, instead, that we do not have the slightest idea whether implementing cosmopolitans' ideal principles could effectively fulfill cosmopolitan values given status quo circumstances until we have a careful diagnosis of the causal factors generating global injustices and a comprehensive analysis of institutional remedies that are capable of effectively mitigating global deprivations given status quo circumstances. This is why our efforts to identify feasible and morally progressive strategies for addressing global deprivations should start (as many of the chapters in this 20 volume do) with an analysis of the target deprivations rather than an analysis of the ideal global institutional structure. Acknowledgments I would like to thank audiences at the Australian National University, the University of Michigan, and the University of California, San Diego, as well as Christian Barry, Geoff Brennan, Gerhard Øverland, and Nic Southwood for helpful suggestions on earlier versions of this chapter. Research for the paper was supported by ARC Discovery Grant DP120101507 1 Kate Brennan, "Introduction," this volume, pp. 2 Popular examples include: Paul Collier, The Bottom Billion: Why The Poorest Countries Are Failing and What Can Be Done About It (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007); Jeffrey D. Sachs, Commonwealth: Economics for a Crowded Planet (New York: Penguin, 2008); Joseph E. Stiglitz, Making Globalization Work (New York: Norton, 2006). 3 A Theory of Justice, second edition (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press, 1999). 4 There is debate concerning the best characterization of the ideal/nonideal theory distinction. I leave this issue aside, as nothing I will say hangs on it. For an introductory survey, see Laura Valentini, "Ideal vs. Non-ideal Theory: A Conceptual Map," Philosophy Compass 7, no. 9 (2012): 654-664. 5 Simon Caney, Justice Beyond Borders (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 122. 6 Rawls, A Theory of Justice, 266, quoted in Charles Beitz, Political Theory and International Relations, second edition (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1999), 151. 7 Gillian Brock, Global Justice: A Cosmopolitan Account (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009), 52. 8 A common characterization of ideal theory adds a second component, namely, that of identifying an institutional scheme that satisfies our ideal principles; see, e.g., Pablo Gilabert, From Global Poverty to Global Equality (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012), 122ff. Since my argument throughout focuses on the extent to which ideal principles can serve as practical guidelines for morally progressive reform, I set aside detailed discussion of ideal institutional schemes. 9 I develop an analysis of the feasibility concept along these lines in "Political Ideals and the Feasibility Frontier," University of California, San Diego, unpublished manuscript, www.dwiens.com. 10 A. John Simmons, "Ideal and Nonideal Theory," Philosophy & Public Affairs 38, no. 1 (2010): 5-36, at 34. 11 Cf. Colin Farrelly, "Justice in Ideal Theory: A Refutation," Political Studies 55, no. 4: 844-864. 12 R.G. Lipsey and Kelvin Lancaster, "The General Theory of Second Best," The Review of Economic Studies 24, no. 1 (1956): 11-32. 13 David Wiens, "Ideal Theory and the Theory of Second Best," University of California, San Diego, unpublished manuscript, www.dwiens.com. 14 Cf. Robert E. Goodin, "Political Ideals and Political Practice," British Journal of Political Science 25, no. 1 (1995): 37-56. 15 In addition to Beitz, Political Theory and International Relations, see Darrel Moellendorf, Cosmopolitan Justice (Boulder, Col.: Westview Press, 2002); and Thomas Pogge, Realizing Rawls (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1989). 16 See Rawls, A Theory of Justice, 66. 17 Ibid., 266. 18 Bruce Bueno de Mesquita and Alastair Smith, "A Political Economy of Aid," International Organization 63, no. 2 (2009): 309–340. 19 The content of such a principle does not matter here, so long as there is a sensible way to give it content. What matters is that the principle locates the limit on permissible inequality somewhere other than b/e. 20 Cf. Henry Petroski, To Engineer is Human: The Role of Failure in Successful Design (New York: Vintage Books, 1992). 21 Cf. Amartya Sen, The Idea of Justice (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2009). 22 My claim pertains to core normative principles, as defined above. I do not claim that abstract moral theory is unhelpful; indeed, abstract moral theory is at least required to sort out the basic moral values that our principles should implement. Cf. Adam Swift, "The Value of Philosophy in Nonideal Circumstances," Social Theory and Practice 34, no. 3 (2008): 363-387. 23 David Miller, "Two Ways to Think About Justice," Politics, Philosophy and Economics 1, no. 1 (2002): 5-28. 24 Cf. Caney, Justice Beyond Borders, 29. 25 Cf. Laura Valentini, "On The Apparent Paradox of Ideal Theory," The Journal of Political Philosophy 17, no. 3 (2009): 332-355. 26 One cannot reply here by saying that we might nonetheless try to approximate ideal principles in nonideal circumstances. If "approximate" implies that the full set of ideal principles is not implemented as specified, then the theory of second best occludes this reply, as noted above. 27 I also discuss these steps in David Wiens, "Prescribing Institutions Without Ideal Theory," The Journal of Political Philosophy 20, no. 1 (2012): 45-70. Although my discussion here preserves the spirit of that earlier work, I now see that my earlier discussion of how to identify failures was more convoluted than it needs to be. 28 Geoffrey Robertson, "Justice for the UN: A quiet revolution," this volume. 29 Ibid., pp. 30 This theme is repeated across a wide variety of sources. Among others, see Daron Acemoglu, Simon Johnson, and James A. Robinson, "The Colonial Origins of Comparative Development: An Empirical Investigation," American Economic Review 91, no. 5 (2001): 1369–1401; Douglass C. North, Institutions, Institutional Change and Economic Performance (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990); and Amartya Sen, Poverty and Famines: An Essay on Entitlement and Deprivation (New York: Oxford University Press, 1981). 31 Among others, see Macartan Humphreys and Robert H. Bates, "Political Institutions and Economic Policies: Lessons From Africa," British Journal of Political Science 35 (2005): 403–428; and Charles Tilly, Coercion, Capital, and European States, AD 990– 1992, revised edition (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 1992). 32 Cf. Bruce Bueno de Mesquita et al., The Logic of Political Survival (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2003). 33 Cf. Douglass C. North and Barry Weingast, "Constitutions and Commitment: The Evolution of Institutions Governing Public Choice in Seventeenth-Century England," Journal of Economic History 49, no. 4 (1989): 803–832. 34 In addition to those already cited, see Robert H. Bates and Da-Hsiang Donald Lien, "A Note on Taxation, Development, and Representative Government," Politics & Society 14, no. 1 (1985): 53–70; and Mancur Olson, "Dictatorship, Democracy, and Development," American Political Science Review 87, no. 3 (1993): 567–576. 35 I elaborate this point, with additional examples from the global justice literature, in David Wiens, "Demands of Justice, Feasible Alternatives, and the Need for Causal Analysis," Ethical Theory and Moral Practice 13 (2013): 325–338.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Ein weiteres Cartoon-Porträt des Geistes von den reduktionistischen Metaphysikern eine Rezension von Peter Carruthers „Die Opazität des Geistes" (The Opacity of Mind) (2011)( Rezension überarbeitet 2019) Michael Starks Abstrakt Materialismus, Reduktionismus, Verhaltenismus, Funktionalismus, Dynamische Systemtheorie und Computeralismus sind populäre Ansichten, aber sie wurden von Wittgenstein als inkohärent gezeigt. Das Studium des Verhaltens umfasst das gesamte menschlicheLeben, aber Verhalten ist weitgehend automatisch und unbewusst und selbst der bewusste Teil, der meist in Sprache ausgedrückt wird (was Wittgenstein mit dem Geist gleichsetzt), ist nicht auffällig, daher ist es entscheidend, einen Rahmen zu haben, den Searle die Logische Struktur der Rationalität (LSR) nennt und ich nenne die Deskriptive Psychologie des Höheren Ordnungsdenkens (DPHOT). Nach der Zusammenfassung des von Wittgenstein und Searle ausgearbeiteten Rahmens, der durch moderne Argumentationsforschung erweitert wurde, zeige ich die Unzulänglichkeiten in Carruthers Ansichten, die die meisten Diskussionen über Verhalten durchdringen,, einschliesslich zeitgenössischer Verhaltenswissenschaften. Ich behaupte, dass sein Buch ein Amalgam von zwei Büchern ist, eines eine Zusammenfassung der kognitiven Psychologie und das andere eine Zusammenfassung der Standard-philosophischen Verwirrungen auf dem Geist mit einigen neuen Jargon hinzugefügt. Ich schlage vor, dass letztere als inkohärent oder als eine Karikatur Sicht des Lebens betrachtet werden sollten und dass wir, wenn wir Wittgenstein beim Wort nehmen, eine erfolgreiche Selbsttherapie praktizieren können, indem wir die Körperfrage als Sprache/Körper-Frage betrachten. Wer aus der modernen zweisystems-Sichteinen umfassenden, aktuellen Rahmen für menschliches Verhalten wünscht, kann mein Buch "The Logical Structure of Philosophy, Psychology, Mindand Language in Ludwig Wittgenstein and John Searle' 2nd ed (2019) konsultieren. Diejenigen,die sich für mehr meiner Schriften interessieren, können 'Talking Monkeys--Philosophie, Psychologie, Wissenschaft, Religion und Politik auf einem verdammten Planeten --Artikel und Rezensionen 2006-2019 3rd ed (2019) und Suicidal Utopian Delusions in the 21st Century 4th ed (2019) und andere sehen. Ich werde zunächst einige Kommentare zur Philosophie und ihrem Verhältnis zur zeitgenössischen psychologischen Forschung darbringen, wie sie in den Werken von John Searle(S) und Ludwig Wittgenstein (W) (gemeinsam WS)exemplarisch dargestellt wird,da ich S als Nachfolger von W betrachte und man ihre Arbeit gemeinsam studieren muss. Es wird helfen, meine Rezensionen von PNC (Philosophy in a New Century), TLP, PI, OC, Making the Social World (MSW) und anderen Büchern von und über diese beiden Genies zu sehen, die eine klare Beschreibung des Verhaltens liefern, das ich als WS-Framework bezeichnen werde. Given dieses Framework, das Searle die Logische Struktur der Rationalität (LSR) nennt und ich nenne die Deskriptive Psychologie des Höheren Ordnungsdenkens (DPHOT), itist möglich, klare Beschreibungen des Verhaltens zu haben,, aber es fehlt völlig in fast allen solchen Diskussionen. Selbst in den Werken von WS ist es nicht klar angelegt und in praktisch allen anderen wird es nur angedeutet, mit den üblichen katastrophalen Folgen. Ich beginne mit einigen Zitaten von W und S. Diese Zitate werden nicht zufällig ausgewählt, sondern resultieren aus einem Jahrzehnt der Studie und zusammen sind sie ein Umriss des Verhaltens (menschliche Natur) von unseren beiden grössten beschreibenden Psychologen. Wenn man sie versteht, dringen sie so tief ein, wie es möglich ist, in den Geist zu gehen (weitgehend koextensiv mit der Sprache, wie W deutlich gemacht hat) und so viel Anleitung zu geben, wie man braucht – dann geht es nur darum, zu schauen, wie Sprache in jedem Fall funktioniert und bei weitem der beste Ort, um auf den 20.000 Seiten von Wittgensteins Nachlass selbsthaft analysierte Sprachbeispiele zu finden. "Die Verwirrung und Unfruchtbarkeit der Psychologie ist nicht damit zu erklären, dass sie eine "junge Wissenschaft" nennt; sein Zustand ist nicht vergleichbar mit dem der Physik, zum Beispiel in seinen Anfängen. (Eher mit dem bestimmter Zweige der Mathematik. Set Theorie.) Denn in der Psychologie gibt es experimentelle Methoden und konzeptionelle Verwirrung. (Wie im anderen Fall konzeptionelle Verwirrung und Beweismethoden.) Die Existenz der experimentellen Methode lässt uns denken, dass wir die Mittel haben, um die Probleme zu lösen, die uns beunruhigen; Problem und Methode aneinander vorbeigehen." Wittgenstein (PI S.232) "Philosophen sehen ständig die Methode der Wissenschaft vor ihren Augen und sind unwiderstehlich versucht, zu fragen und zu antworten, wie es die Wissenschaft tut. Diese Tendenz ist die wahre Quelle der Metaphysik und führt den Philosophen in die völlige Dunkelheit." Wittgenstein Das blaue Buch "Hier stossen wir auf ein bemerkenswertes und charakteristisches Phänomen in der philosophischen Untersuchung: die Schwierigkeit---Ich könnte sagen--ist nicht die Lösung zu finden, sondern die, etwas als Lösung zu erkennen, das so aussieht, als wäre es nur eine Vorstufe dazu. Wir haben bereits alles gesagt. ---Nichts, was sich daraus ergibt, nein, das ist die Lösung! .... Ich glaube, das hängt damit zusammen, dass wir fälschlicherweise eine Erklärung erwarten, während die Lösung der Schwierigkeit eine Beschreibung ist, wenn wir ihr den richtigen Platz in unseren Überlegungen einräumen. Wenn wir darauf verweilen und nicht versuchen, darüber hinauszukommen." Zettel p312-314 "Die entscheidende Bewegung in dem Zaubertrick ist gemacht worden, und es war die, die wir für ziemlich unschuldig hielten." Wittgenstein, PI-Para.308 "Aber ich habe mein Bild von der Welt nicht bekommen, indem ich mich ihrer Korrektheit befriedigt habe: ich habe es auch nicht, weil ich mit ihrer Richtigkeit zufrieden bin. Nein, es ist der ererbte Hintergrund, vor dem ich zwischen wahr und falsch unterscheide." Wittgenstein OC 94 "Wenn es nun nicht die kausalen Zusammenhänge sind, mit denen wir uns befassen, dann liegen die Aktivitäten des Geistes vor uns." Wittgenstein "Das blaue Buch" p6 (1933) "Nonsense, Nonsense, weil sie Annahmen machen, anstatt einfach zu beschreiben. Wenn Ihr Kopf hier von Erklärungen verfolgt wird, vernachlässigen Sie es, sich an die wichtigsten Fakten zu erinnern." Wittgenstein Z 220 "Philosophie stellt einfach alles vor uns und erklärt und leitet nichts ab... Man könnte dem, was vor allen neuen Entdeckungen und Erfindungen möglich ist, den Namen 'Philosophie' geben." Wittgenstein PI 126 "Was wir liefern, sind wirklich Bemerkungen über die Naturgeschichte des Menschen, nicht Kuriositäten; sondern eher Beobachtungen zu Tatsachen, an denen niemand gezweifelt hat und die nur unbemerkt geblieben sind, weil sie immer vor unseren Augen sind." Wittgenstein RFM I p142 "Ziel der Philosophie ist es, eine Mauer an der Stelle zu errichten, an der die Sprache sowieso aufhört." Wittgenstein Philosophische Anlässe s. 187 "Die Grenze der Sprache zeigt sich darin, dass sie unmöglich ist, eine Tatsache zu beschreiben, die einem Satz entspricht (ist die Übersetzung) ohne einfach den Satz zu wiederholen (das hat mit der kantianischen Lösung des Problems der Philosophie zu tun)." Wittgenstein CV p10 (1931) "Kann es Gründe für Einmassnahmen geben, die für einen rationalen Agenten bindend sind, nur aufgrund der Art der in der Begründung berichteten Tatsache und unabhängig von den Wünschen, Werten, Einstellungen und Bewertungen des Agenten? ... Das eigentliche Paradoxe der traditionellen Diskussion besteht darin, dass sie versucht, Humes Guillotine, die starre Unterscheidung zwischen Faktenund Wert, in einem Vokabular zu stellen, dessen Verwendung bereits die Falschheit der Unterscheidung voraussetzt." Searle PNC p165-171 "... alle Statusfunktionen und damit die gesamte institutionelle Realität, mit Ausnahme der Sprache, werden durch Sprachhandlungen geschaffen, die die logische Form von Erklärungen haben... die Formen der fraglichen Statusfunktion sind fast ausnahmslos Angelegenheiten deontischer Kräfte... etwas als Recht, Pflicht, Verpflichtung, Anforderung usw. anzuerkennen, ist, einen Grund zum Handeln anzuerkennen... diese deontischen Strukturen ermöglichen lustunabhängige Handlungsgründe... Der allgemeine Punkt ist ganz klar: Die Schaffung des allgemeinen Feldes der wunschbasierten Handlungsgründe setzt die Akzeptanz eines Systems von wunschunabhängigen Handlungsgründen voraus." Searle PNC P34-49 "Einige der wichtigsten logischen Merkmale der Intentionalität liegen ausserhalb der Reichweite der Phänomenologie, weil sie keine unmittelbare phänomenologische Realität haben... Denn die Schaffung von Sinnhaftigkeit aus Bedeutungslosigkeit wird nicht bewusst erlebt... sie existiert nicht... Das ist... die phänomenologische Illusion." Searle PNC p115-117 "... die grundlegende absichtliche Beziehung zwischen Geist und Welt hat mit Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit zu tun. Und ein Satz ist alles, was in einem absichtlichen Verhältnis zur Welt stehen kann, und da diese absichtlichen Beziehungen immer die Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit bestimmen und ein Satz als alles definiert wird, was ausreicht, um die Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit zu bestimmen, stellt sich heraus, dass jede Absicht eine Frage von Sätzen ist." Searle PNC p193 "Also, sind Statusfunktionen der Klebstoff, der die Gesellschaft zusammenhält. Sie werden durch kollektive Intentionalität geschaffen und sie funktionieren, indem sie deontische Kräfte tragen... Mit der wichtigen Ausnahme der Sprache selbst wird die gesamte institutionelle Realität und damit in gewissem Sinne die gesamte menschliche Zivilisation durch Sprachhandlungen geschaffen, die die logische Form von Erklärungen haben... die gesamte institutionellen Realität der Menschen wird durch (Darstellungen, die die gleiche logische Form wie) Statusfunktionserklärungen haben, geschaffen und aufrechterhalten, einschliesslich der Fälle, die keine Sprachhandlungen in der expliziten Form von Erklärungen sind." Searle MSW p11-13 "Aber man kann ein physikalisches System wie eine Schreibmaschine oder ein Gehirn nicht erklären, indem man ein Muster identifiziert, das es mit seiner Rechensimulation teilt, weil die Existenz des Musters nicht erklärt, wie das System tatsächlich als physikalisches System funktioniert. ... Zusammenfassend ist die Tatsache, dass die Zuordnung der Syntax keine weiteren kausalen Kräfte identifiziert, fatal für die Behauptung, dass Programme kausale Erklärungen der Kognition liefern... Es gibt nur einen physischen Mechanismus, das Gehirn, mit seinen verschiedenen realen physischen und physischen/geistigen Kausalebenen der Beschreibung." Searle Philosophy in a New Century (PNC) p101-103 "Kurz gesagt, der Sinn der 'Informationsverarbeitung', der in der Kognitionswissenschaft verwendet wird, ist auf einem viel zu hohen Abstraktionsniveau, um die konkrete biologische Realität der intrinsischen Intentionalität einzufangen... Wir sind blind für diesen Unterschied durch die Tatsache, dass der gleiche Satz "Ich sehe ein Auto auf mich zukommen", verwendet werden kann, um sowohl die visuelle Intentionalität als auch die Ausgabe des Rechenmodells des Sehens aufzuzeichnen... im Sinne von "Informationen", die in der Kognitionswissenschaft verwendet werden, ist es einfach falsch zu sagen, dass das Gehirn ein Informationsverarbeitungsgerät ist." Searle PNC p104-105 "Der beabsichtigte Zustand stellt seine Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit dar... Menschen nehmen fälschlicherweise an, dass jede geistige Darstellung bewusst gedacht werden muss... aber der Begriff der Repräsentation, wie ich sie verwende, ist eine funktionale und keine ontologische Vorstellung. Alles, was Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit hat, die in einer Weise erfolgreich sein oder scheitern können, die für intentionalität charakteristisch ist, ist per definitionem eine Darstellung ihrer Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit... wir können die Struktur der Intentionalität gesellschaftlicher Phänomene analysieren, indem wir ihre Zufriedenheitsbedingungen analysieren." Searle MSW p28-32 "Lautsprecher bedeutung... ist die Auferlegung von Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit auf Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit. Die Fähigkeit, dies zu tun, ist ein entscheidendes Element der menschlichen kognitiven Fähigkeiten. Es erfordert die Fähigkeit, auf zwei Ebenen gleichzeitig zu denken, in einer Weise, die für den Gebrauch der Sprache unerlässlich ist. Auf einer Ebene erzeugt der Sprecher absichtlich eine physische Äusserung, aber auf einer anderen Ebene stellt die Äusserung etwas dar. Und die gleiche Dualität infiziert das Symbol selbst. Auf einerEbene ist es ein physisches Objekt wie jedes andere. Auf einer anderen Ebene, hat es eine Bedeutung: es stellt eine Art von Zustand dar" MSW p74" ... Sobald Sie Sprache haben, ist es unvermeidlich, dass Sie Deontologie haben, weil es keine Möglichkeit gibt, explizite Sprachhandlungen nach den Konventionen einer Sprache durchzuführen, ohne Verpflichtungen zu schaffen. Dies gilt nicht nur für Statements, sondern für alle Sprachhandlungen" MSW p82 "Je enger wir die tatsächliche Sprache untersuchen, desto schärfer wird der Konflikt zwischen ihr und unserer Forderung. (Denn die kristalline Reinheit der Logik war natürlich kein Ergebnis einer Untersuchung: sie war eine Anforderung.)" PI 107 Ein wichtiges Thema in allen Diskussionen über menschliches Verhalten ist die Notwendigkeit, die genetisch programmierten Automatismen von den Auswirkungen der Kultur zu trennen. Alle Untersuchungen über das Verhalten höherer Ordnung sind ein Versuch, nicht nur schnelles S1und langsames S2-Denken (z.B. Wahrnehmungen und andere Automatismen vs. Dispositionen) auseinander zu nehmen, sondern auch die logischen Erweiterungen von S2 in die Kultur (S3). Searles (S) Arbeit als Ganzes liefert eine verblüffende Beschreibung des sozialen Verhaltens höherer Ordnung S2/S3, das auf die jüngste Evolution von Genen für Dispositionspsychologie zurückzuführen ist, während das spätere Wittgenstein (W) zeigt, wie es auf wahr-nur-unbewussten Axiomen von S1 basiert, die sich zu bewusstem Dispositionssatzdenken von S2 entwickelt haben. S1 ist die einfache automatisierte Funktion unserer unfreiwilligen, System 1, schnelles Denken, Spiegelnneuron, nur wahr, nichtpropositional, mentale Zustände unsere Wahrnehmungen und Erinnerungen und reflexiven Handlungen einschliesslich System 1 Wahrheiten und UA1 --Verständnis von Agentur 1-und Emotionen 1wie Freude, Liebe, Wut), die kausal beschrieben werden können, während die evolutionär späteren sprachlichen Funktionen Ausdrücke oder Beschreibungen von freiwilligen, System 2, langsames Denken, mentalisierende Neuronen, testbar wahr oder falsch, propositional, Wahrheit2 und UA2 und Emotionen2Fröhlichkeit , liebend, hassend-die dispositionale (und oft kontrafaktische) Vorstellung, Annahme, Absicht, Denken, Wissen, Glauben usw., die nur in Gründen beschrieben werden kann (d.h. es ist nur eine Tatsache, dass Versuche, System 2 in Bezug auf Neurochemie, Atomphysik, Mathematik zu beschreiben, keinen Sinn ergeben siehe W für viele Beispiele und Searle und Hacker ( 3 Bände über die menschliche Natur) für Disquisitionen). Man sollte Wes Bemerkung ernst nehmen, dass, selbst wenn Gott in unseren Geist schauen könnte, er nicht sehen konnte, was wir denken das sollte das Motto der Kognitiven Psychologie sein. Ja, ein kognitiver Psychologe der Zukunft kann sehen, was wir wahrnehmen und erinnern und unser reflexives Denken und Handeln, da diese S1-Funktionen immer kausale mentale Zustände (CMS) sind, aber S2-Dispositionen sind nur potenziell CMS und daher nicht realisiert oder sichtbar. Dies ist keine Theorie, sondern eine Beschreibung unserer Sprache, unseres Geistes, unseres Lebens, unserer Grammatik (W). S, Carruthers (C) und andere verwischen hier das Wasser, weil sie sich manchmal auch auf Dispositionen als mentale Zustände beziehen, aber wie W es vor langer Zeit getan hat, zeigen S, Hacker und andere, dass die Sprache der Kausalität einfach nicht auf die höherrangigen s2Beschreibungen zutrifft wiederum keine Theorie, sondern eine Beschreibung, wie unsere Dispositionszustände (Sprache, Denken) funktionieren. S1 besteht aus unbewussten, schnellen, physischen, kausalen, automatischen, nicht-propositionalen, wahren, wahren mentalen Zuständen, während langsames S2 nur stimmlich in Bezug auf Gründe für Handlungen beschrieben werden kann, die mehr oder weniger bewusste Dispositionen zum Verhalten sind (potenzielle Handlungen), die propositional sind oder werden können (T oder F). Es scheint mir ganz offensichtlich (wie es für W war), dass die mechanische Sicht des Geistes aus dem gleichen Grund existiert wie fast das gesamte Verhalten es ist die Standardoperation unserer entwickelten Psychologie (EP), die Erklärungen in Bezug auf das sucht, was wir bewusst langsam durchdenken können (S2), anstatt in der automatisierten S1, von der wir meist vergessen bleiben von S in PNC "The Phenomenological Illusion" (TPI) genannt wird. TPI ist kein harmloser philosophischer Fehler, sondern eine universelle Vergessenheit gegenüber unserer Biologie, die die Illusion erzeugt, dass wir unser Leben kontrollieren, und unter den Folgen ist der unaufhaltsame Zusammenbruch dessen, was für die Zivilisation vorübergeht. Unsere langsame oder reflektierende, mehr oder weniger "bewusste" (Vorsicht ein anderes Netzwerk von Sprachspielen!) Second-Self-Gehirnaktivität entspricht dem, was W als "Veranlagungen" oder "Neigungen" charakterisierte, die sich auf Fähigkeiten oder mögliche Handlungen beziehen, keine mentalen Zustände sind (oder nicht im gleichen Sinne wie S1-Zustände) und keine bestimmte Zeit des Auftretens und/oder der Dauer haben. Aber Dispositionswörter wie "Wissen", "Verstehen", "Denken", "Glauben", die W ausgiebig diskutierte, haben mindestens zwei grundlegende Verwendungen. Das eine ist ein eigenartiger philosophischer Gebrauch (aber der Abschluss in den alltäglichen Gebrauch), der sich auf die wahren Sätze bezieht, die sich aus direkten Wahrnehmungen und Gedächtnis ergeben, d.h. unsere angeborene axiomatische S1-Psychologie ("Ich weiss, das sind meine Hände")-d.h., sie sind kausal selbstreferenziell (CSR) – d.h., eine Katze zu sehen, macht es wahr und im normalen Fall ist kein Test möglich, und die S2-Nutzung, die ihre normale Verwendung als Dispositionen ist, die ausgespielt werden können, und die wahr oder falsch werden können ("Ich kenne meinen Weg nach Hause") d.h. sie haben externe, öffentliche, testbare Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit (COS) und sind nicht CSR. Die Untersuchung des unfreiwilligen schnellen Denkens von System 1 hat Psychologie, Ökonomie und andere Disziplinen unter Namen wie "kognitive Illusionen", "Priming", "Framing", "Heuristik" und "Vorurteile" revolutioniert. Natürlich sind auch dies Sprachspiele, so dass es mehr und weniger nützliche Möglichkeiten geben wird, diese Wörter zu verwenden, und Studien und Diskussionen werden von "reinem" System 1 bis zu Kombinationen von 1 und 2 variieren (die Norm, wie W klarstellte), aber vermutlich nie von langsamem System 2 Dispositionsdenken nur, da jedes System 2 Gedanken oder absichtliche Aktion nicht stattfinden kann, ohne einen Grossteil des komplizierten Netzwerks von "kognitiven Modulen" einzubinden. , "Inference Engines", "intracerebral reflexes", "automatisms", "cognitive axioms", "background" or "bedrock" -wie W und später Searle unsere Evolutionspsychologie (EP) nennen. Eine Möglichkeit, dies in Bezug zu betrachten, ist, dass das unbewusste automatische System 1 die höher kortikale bewusste Persönlichkeit von System 2 aktiviert und Halsmuskelkontraktionen herbeiführt, die andere darüber informieren, dass es die Welt auf bestimmte Weise sieht, die es zu potenziellen Handlungen verpflichten. Ein gewaltiger Fortschritt gegenüber prälinguistischen oderproto-linguistischen Interaktionen, bei denen nur grobe Muskelbewegungen nur sehr begrenzte Informationen über Absichten vermitteln konnten. - Die deontischen Strukturen oder "sozialer Kleber" sind die automatischen schnellen Aktionen von S1, die die langsamen Dispositionen von S2 produzieren, die während der persönlichen Entwicklung unaufhaltsam zu einer breiten Palette von automatischen universellen kulturellen deontischen Beziehungen (S3) erweitert werden. Ich erwarte, dass dies ziemlich gut beschreibt die grundlegende Struktur des Verhaltens. Diese Beschreibungen von Kognition und Wille sind in Tabelle 2.1 von MSW zusammengefasst, die Searle seit vielen Jahren verwendet und die Grundlage für eine erweiterte ist, die ich geschaffen habe. Meiner Meinung nach hilft esenorm, dies mit der modernen psychologischen Forschung in Verbindung zu setzen, indem ich meine S1-, S2-, S3-Terminologie und Wes rein rein rein sittliche (Dispositions-)Beschreibung verwende. CsRverweist also, auf S1-wahr-nur-Wahrnehmung, Gedächtnis und frühere Absicht (Ursachestammt aus der Welt),während S2 bezieht sich auf propositionale (wahre oder falsch testbare) Dispositionen wie Glaube und Wunsch (Ursacheentsteht im Geist). Wenn ich also erkenne, dass S1 nur nach oben kausal (Welt im Sinn) und inhaltslos (fehlende Darstellungen oder Informationen) ist, während S2 Inhalt hat und nach unten kausal ist (Geist zu Welt) (z.B. siehe meine Rezension von Hutto und Myins 'Radical Enactivism'), würde ich die Absätze von MSW p39 beginnend "In sum" ändern und auf S. 40 mit "Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit" enden. Insgesamt werden Wahrnehmung, Gedächtnis und reflexive Vorabsichten und Handlungen ("will") durch das automatische Funktionieren unserer s1-echten axiomamatischen EP verursacht. Durch vorherige Absichten und Absichten in Aktion versuchen wir, die Dinge, die wir uns wünschen, mit der Art und Weise ins Spiel zu bringen, wie wir sie denken. Wir sollten sehen, dass Glaube, Wunsch (und Vorstellungskraft Wünsche, die zeitverschoben und von der Absicht entkoppelt sind) und andere S2Satzdispositionen unseres langsamen Denkens, die später das zweite Selbst entwickelten, völlig abhängig sind (haben ihre COS, die ihren Ursprung in) der CSR-schnellen automatischen primitiven, nur reflexiven S1 haben. In der Sprache und Neurophysiologie gibt es Zwischenoder Mischfälle wie beabsichtigen (vorherige Absichten) oder Erinnern, bei denen die kausale Verbindung mit COS (d.h. mit S1) die Zeit verschoben wird, da sie die Vergangenheit oder die Zukunft darstellen, im Gegensatz zu S1, das immer in der Gegenwart ist. S1 und S2 fliessen ineinander und werden oft nahtlos durch die erlernten deontischen kulturellen Beziehungen von S3 orchestriert, so dass unsere normale Erfahrung darin besteht, dass wir bewusst alles kontrollieren, was wir tun. Diese riesige Arena kognitiver Illusionen, die unser Leben dominieren, hat Searle als 'Die phänomenologische Illusion' beschrieben. Es folgt auf sehr geradlinige und unaufhaltsame Weise, sowohl aus W es 3. Periode Arbeit als auch aus den Beobachtungen der zeitgenössischen Psychologie, dass 'will', 'selbst' und 'Bewusstsein' axiomatische wahre Elemente von System 1 sind, genau wie Sehen, Hören usw., und es gibt keine Möglichkeit (Verständlichkeit), ihre Unwahrheit zu demonstrieren (Sinn zu geben). Wie W so wunderbar mehrfach deutlich gemacht hat, sind sie die Grundlage für das Urteil und können daher nicht beurteilt werden. Die wahren Axiome unserer Psychologie sind nicht beweisbar. Wie Carruthers und andere besagt Searle manchmal (z.B. s66-67 MSW), dass S1 (d.h. Erinnerungen, Wahrnehmungen, Reflexhandlungen) eine propositionale (d.h. wahr-falsche) Struktur hat. Wie ich oben bemerkt habe, und viele Male in anderen Bewertungen, scheint es glasklar, dass W richtig ist, und es ist grundlegend, Verhalten zu verstehen, dass nur S2 propositional und S1 axiomatisch und wahr ist. Beide haben COS und Directions of Fit (DOF), weil die genetische, axiomatische Intentionalität von S1 die von S2 erzeugt, aber wenn S1 im gleichen Sinne propositional wäre, würde dies bedeuten, dass Skepsis verständlich ist, das Chaos, das Philosophie war, bevor W zurückkehren würde, und in der Tat, wenn wahr, würde das Leben nicht möglich sein. Wie W unzählige Male und Biologie-DemonStrate zeigte, muss das Leben auf Sicherheit basieren automatisierte unbewusste Schnellreaktionen. Organismen, die immer einen Zweifel haben und innehalten, um zu reflektieren, werden sterben -keine Evolution, keine Menschen, keine Philosophie. Sprache und Schreiben sind besonders, weil die kurze Wellenlänge der Schwingungen der Stimmmuskeln eine viel höhere Bandbreiten-Informationsübertragung als Kontraktionen anderer Muskeln ermöglicht und dies im Durchschnitt mehrere Grössenordnungen höher für visuelle Informationen ist. Denken ist propositional und beschäftigt sich daher mit wahren oder falschen Aussagen, was bedeutet, dass es sich um eine typische S2-Disposition handelt, die getestet werden kann, im Gegensatz zu den wirklich-automatischen kognitiven Funktionen von S1. Oder man kann sagen, dass spontane Äusserungen und Aktionen die primitiven Reflexe oder Primary Language Games (PLG) von S1 sind, während bewusste Darstellungen die dispositionalen Sekundärsprachenspiele (SLG's) von S2 sind. Es klingt trivial und ist es in der Tat, aber dies ist die grundlegendste Aussage, wie Verhalten funktioniert, und kaum jemand hat es jemals verstanden. Ich würde S es Zusammenfassung der praktischen Vernunft auf P127 von MSW wie folgt übersetzen: "Wir geben unseren Wünschen nach (müssen die Gehirnchemie verändern), die typischerweise Desire -Independent Reasons for Action (DIRA--d.h. Wünsche, die in Raum und Zeit verdrängt werden, am häufigsten für gegenseitigen Altruismus) umfassen, die Dispositionen für Verhalten erzeugen, die häufig früher oder später in Muskelbewegungen resultieren, die unserer inklusiven Fitness dienen (erhöhtes Überleben für Gene in uns selbst). Und ich möchte seine Beschreibung auf S129 wiederholen, wie wir DIRA2/3 durchführen, als "Die Lösung des Paradoxons ist, dass die unbewusste DIRA1, die langfristig inklusive Fitness dient, die bewusste DIRA2 erzeugt, die oft die kurzfristigen persönlichen unmittelbaren Wünsche überschreiben." Agenten schaffen in der Tat bewusst die nahen Gründe von DIRA2/3, aber dies sind sehr eingeschränkte Erweiterungen der unbewussten DIRA1 (die ultimative Ursache). Evolution durch inklusive Fitness hat die unbewussten schnellen reflexiven kausalen Aktionen von S1 programmiert, die oft zu dem bewussten langsamen Denken von S2 führen (oft in die kulturellen Erweiterungen von S3 modifiziert), was Gründe für Massnahmen hervorbringt, die oft zur Aktivierung von Körperund/oder Sprachmuskeln durch S1 führen, die Aktionen verursachen. Der allgemeine Mechanismus ist sowohl durch Neurotransmission als auch durch Veränderungen in Neuromodulatoren in gezielten Bereichen des Gehirns. Die allgemeine kognitive Illusion (von S 'The Phenomenological Illusion', von Pinker 'The Blank Slate' und von Tooby and Cosmides 'The Standard Social Science Model' genannt) ist, dass S2/S3 die Aktion bewusst aus Gründen erzeugt hat, von denen wir uns voll bewusst sind und die wir kontrollieren können, aber jeder, der mit moderner Biologie und Psychologie vertraut ist, kann sehen, dass diese Ansicht nicht glaubwürdig ist. Obwohl W recht hat, dass es keinen mentalen Zustand gibt, der Bedeutung darstellt, stellt S (wie oben zitiert) fest, dass es einen allgemeinen Weg gibt, den Akt der Bedeutung zu charakterisieren -- "Sprecher bedeutet... ist die Auferlegung von Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit auf Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit" das ist ein Akt und kein geistiger Zustand. Dies kann als eine weitere Aussage von W es Argument gegen private Sprache (persönliche Interpretationen vs öffentlich testbare) gesehen werden. Ebenso, können mit Regelfolge und Interpretation -sie können nur öffentlich kontrollierbare Handlungen sein -auch keine privaten Regeln oder private Interpretationen. Und man muss beachten, dass viele (am bekanntesten Kripke) das Boot hier vermissen, indem sie durch W es häufige Verweise auf die Gemeinschaftspraxis in die Irre geführt werden, zu denken, dass es nur eine willkürliche öffentliche Praxis ist, die Der Sprache und gesellschaftlichen Konventionen zugrunde liegt. W macht oft deutlich, dass solche Konventionen nur möglich sind, wenn man eine angeborene gemeinsame Psychologie bedenkt, die er oft den Hintergrund nennt, und dies, das allen Verhaltensweisen zugrunde liegt und die in der Tabelle schematisiert ist. Wie ich in meinen anderen Bewertungen festgestellt habe, haben nur wenige, wenn überhaupt, das spätere W vollständig verstanden und ohne das S1, S2 Framework ist es nicht überraschend. So, kann man verstehen, warum man sich ein Objekt nicht vorstellen kann, wenn man es als die Herrschaft von S2 durch S1 ansieht. Es gibt keinen Test für meine inneren Erfahrungen, also was mir in den Sinn kommt, wenn ich mir jacks Gesicht vorstelle, ist das Bild von Jack. Ebenso, mit Lesen und Rechnen, die sich auf S1, S2 oder eine Kombination beziehen können,, und es besteht die ständige Versuchung, S2-Begriffe auf S1-Prozesse anzuwenden, bei denen das Fehlen eines Tests sie unanwendbar macht. Zwei der berühmten Beispiele von W, die zur Bekämpfung dieser Versuchung verwendet werden, sind Tennis ohne Ball zu spielen ("S1-Tennis"), und ein Stamm, der nur S2-Berechnungen hatte, so dass "Rechnen im Kopf ('S1Berechnung') nicht möglich war. "Spielen" und "Rechnen" beschreiben tatsächliche oder potenzielle Handlungen d.h. sie sind Dispositionswörter, aber mit plausiblen reflexiven S1-Verwendungen, wie ich bereits gesagt habe, sollte man sie wirklich gerade halten, indem man "playing1" und "playing2" usw. schreibt. Aber wir werden nicht gelehrt, dies zu tun, und deshalb wollen wir entweder "Rechnen1" als Fantasie abtun, oder wir denken, dass wir seine Natur bis später unentschlossen lassen können. Daher ein weiterer von W es berühmten Kommentaren: "Die entscheidende Bewegung in dem Zaubertrick ist gemacht worden, und es war diejenige, die wir für ziemlich unschuldig hielten." Das heisst, die ersten Sätze oder oft der Titel verpflichten einen zu einer Art, Dinge (ein Sprachspiel) zu betrachten, die einen klaren Gebrauch von Sprache im gegenwärtigen Kontext verhindert. Ein Satz drückt einen Gedanken aus (hat eine Bedeutung), wenn er klares COS hat, und das bedeutet, dass er öffentliche Wahrheitsbedingungen hat. Daher der Kommentar von W: "Wenn ich in der Sprache denke, gibt es nicht 'Bedeutungen' gehen durch meinen Geist zusätzlich zu den verbalen Ausdrücken: die Sprache ist selbst das Vehikel des Denkens." Und wenn ich mit oder ohne Worte denke, ist der Gedanke, was ich (ehrlich) sage, es ist, da es kein anderes mögliches Kriterium (COS) gibt. So, treffen W es schöne Aphorismen (s. 132 Budd) "Es ist in der Sprache, dass Wunsch und Erfüllung treffen" und "Wie alles metaphysische, die Harmonie zwischen Denken und Wirklichkeit ist in der Grammatik der Sprache zu finden." Und man könnte hier feststellen, dass "Grammatik" in W in der Regel als logische Struktur der Sprache interpretiert werden kann, und dass es trotz seiner häufigen Warnungen vor Theoretheres und Verallgemeinerung um eine so weit gefasste Charakterisierung der Philosophie und der beschreibenden Psychologie höherer Ordnung geht, wie man sie finden kann. Ebenso, mit der Frage "Was macht es wahr, dass mein Bild von Jack ein Bild von ihm ist?" Vorstellung ist eine andere Disposition und das COS ist, dass das Bild, das ich in meinem Kopf habe, Jack ist und deshalb werde ich "JA" sagen, wenn sein Bild gezeigt wird, und "NEIN", wenn einer von jemand anderem gezeigt wird. Der Test hier ist nicht, dass das Foto mit dem vagen Bild übereinstimmt, das ich hatte, sondern dass ich es beabsichtigte (hatte das COS, dass) ein Bild von ihm zu sein. Daher das berühmte Zitat von W: "Wenn Gott in unsere Köpfe geschaut hätte, hätte er dort nicht sehen können, von wem wir sprachen (PI S. 217)" und seine Bemerkungen, dass das ganze Problem der Repräsentation in "das ist Ihn" und "... Was dem Bild seine Interpretation gibt, ist der Weg, auf dem es liegt, oder wie S sein COS sagt. Daher W es Summation (s. 140 Budd), dass "am Ende immer darauf ankommt, dass er ohne weitere Bedeutung den Wunsch nennt, dass das geschehen sollte"..." Die Frage, ob ich weiss, was ich wünsche, bevor mein Wunsch erfüllt wird, kann sich überhaupt nicht stellen. Und die Tatsache, dass irgendein Ereignis meinen Wunsch aufhält, bedeutet nicht, dass es es erfüllt. Vielleicht hätte ich nicht erfüllt werden sollen, wenn mein Wunsch erfüllt worden wäre"... Angenommen, es wurde gefragt: "Weiss ich, wonach ich mich sehne, bevor ich es bekomme? Wenn ich das Reden gelernt habe, dann weiss ich es." Dispositionswörter beziehen sich auf potenzielle Ereignisse (PE's), die ich als Erfüllung des COS akzeptiere und meine mentalen Zustände, Emotionen, Interessenswechsel usw. haben keinen Einfluss auf die Art und Weise, wie Dispositionen funktionieren. Ich hoffe, wünsche, erwarte, denke, beabsichtige, wünsche usw. je nach dem Zustand, in dem ich mich selbst befindeauf dem COS, den ich ausdrücke. Denken und Beabsichtigen sind S2-Dispositionen, die nur durch reflexive S1-Muskelkontraktionen, insbesondere die der Sprache, ausgedrückt werden können. Nun, da wir einen vernünftigen Anfang auf der logischen Struktur der Rationalität (die deskriptive Psychologie des Denkens höherer Ordnung) gelegt haben, können wir uns die Tabelle der Intentionalität ansehen, die sich aus dieser Arbeit ergibt, die ich in den letzten Jahren konstruiert habe. Es basiert auf einem viel einfacheren von Searle, das wiederum Wittgenstein viel zu verdanken hat. Ich habe auch in modifizierte Form Tabellen aufgenommen, die von aktuellen Forschern in der Psychologie von Denkprozessen verwendet werden, die in den letzten 9 Reihen belegt sind. Es sollte sich als interessant erweisen, es mit denen in Peter Hackers 3 jüngsten Bänden über die menschliche Natur zu vergleichen. Ich biete diese Tabelle als Heuristik für die Beschreibung von Verhalten, die ich vollständiger und nützlicher als jedes andere Framework, das ich gesehen habe, und nicht als eine endgültige oder vollständige Analyse, die dreidimensional sein müsste, mit Hunderten (mindestens) von Pfeilen, die in viele Richtungen gehen, wobei viele (vielleicht alle) Pfade zwischen S1 und S2 bidirektional sind. Auch die Unterscheidung zwischen S1 und S2, Kognition und Willkür, Wahrnehmung und Erinnerung, zwischen Fühlen, Wissen, Glauben und Erwarten usw. sind willkürlich das heisst, wie W demonstrierte, alle Wörter sind kontextuell sensibel und die meisten haben mehrere völlig unterschiedliche Verwendungen (Bedeutungen oder COS). Viele komplexe Diagramme wurden von Wissenschaftlern veröffentlicht, aber ich finde sie von minimalem Nutzen, wenn ich über Verhalten nachdenke (im Gegensatz zum Denken über Gehirnfunktion). Jede Ebene der Beschreibung kann in bestimmten Kontexten nützlich sein, aber ich finde, dass gröber oder feiner die Nützlichkeit begrenzt. The Logical Structure of Rationality (LSR), or the Logical Structure of Mind (LSM), the Logical Structure of Behavior (LSB), the Logical Structure of Thought (LST), the Logical Structure of Consciousness (LSC), the Logical Structure of Personality (LSP), the Descriptive Psychology of Consciousness (DSC), the Descriptive Psychology of Higher Order Thought (DPHOT), Intentionality-the classic. System 1 ist unfreiwillig, reflexiv oder automatisiert "Regeln" R1, während Denken (Kognition) keine Lücken hat und freiwillig oder deliberativ "Regeln" R2 und Willing (Volition) hat 3 Lücken (siehe Searle) Ich schlage vor, dass wir das Verhalten klarer beschreiben können, indem wir Searles "Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit über Die Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit" ändern, um "geistige Zustände mit der Welt in Beziehung zu setzen, indem wir Muskeln bewegen" – d.h. Reden, Schreiben und Tun, und sein "Geist zur Weltrichtung der Passform"und "Welt-zu-Geist-Richtung der Anpassung" durch "Ursache entsteht im Geist" und "Ursache entsteht in der Welt" S1 ist nur nach oben kausal (Welt zu denken) und inhaltslos (fehlende Darstellungen oder Informationen), während S2 Inhalt hat und nach unten kausal (Geist zu Welt) ist. Ich habe meine Terminologie in dieser Tabelle übernommen. AUS DER ANALYSE VON SPRACHENSPIELEN Disposition zu tun* Emotion Erinnerung Wahrnehmung Wunsch PI * * IA * * * Aktion/ Wort Ursache entsteht in * * * * Welt Welt Welt Welt Der Verstand Der Verstand Der Verstand Der Verstand Verursachen Änderungen in * * * * * nichts Der Verstand Der Verstand Der Verstand nichts Welt Welt Welt Kausal Selbstreflexiv * * * * * * Nein Ja Ja Ja Nein Ja Ja Ja Richtig oder Falsch (überprüfbar) Ja Nur Wahr Nur Wahr Nur Wahr Ja Ja Ja Ja Öffentliche Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit Ja Ja/Nein Ja/Nein Nein Jes/Nein Ja Nein Ja Beschreiben Ein psychischer Zustand Nein Ja Ja Ja Nein Nein Ja/Nein Ja Evolutionspriorität 5 4 2,3 1 5 3 2 2 Freiwillige Inhalte Ja Nein Nein Nein Nein Ja Ja Ja Freiwillige Einweihung Ja/Nein Nein Ja Nein Ja/Nein Ja Ja Ja Kognitives System ******* 2 1 2/1 1 2/1 2 1 2 Intensität ändern Nein Ja Ja Ja Ja Nein Nein Nein Genaue Dauer Nein Ja Ja Ja Nein Nein Ja Ja Zeit Ort (Hier und Jetzt / Dort und Dann) ******** DD HJ HJ HJ DD DD HJ HJ Besondere Qualität Nein Ja Nein Ja Nein Nein Nein Nein Lokalisiert im Körper Nein Nein Nein Ja Nein Nein Nein Ja Körperliche Ausdrücke Ja Ja Nein Nein Ja Ja Ja Ja Selbstwidersprüche Nein Ja Nein Nein Ja Nein Nein Nein Braucht ein Selbst Ja Ja/Nein Nein Nein Ja Nein Nein Nein Braucht Sprache Ja Nein Nein Nein Nein Nein Nein Ja/Nein AUS DER ENTSCHEIDUNGSFORSCHUNG Disposition zu tun* Emotion Erinnerung Wahrnehmung Wunsch PI * * IA * * * AKtion/ Wort Unterschwellige Effekte Nein Ja/Nein Ja Ja Nein Nein Nein Ja/Nein Assoziativ/ Regel basiert RB A/RB A A A/RB RB RB RB Kontext Dependent/ Abstrakt A KD/A KD KD KD/A A KD/A KD/A Seriall/Parallel S S/P P P S/P S S S Heuristisch/ Analytische A H/A H H H/A A A A Aktiv Erinnerung Erforderlich Ja Nein Nein Nein Nein Ja Ja Ja Hängt von der Allgemeinen Intelligenz ab Ja Nein Nein Nein Ja/Nein Ja Ja Ja Kognitive Laden Hemmt Ja Ja/Nein Nein Nein Ja Ja Ja Ja Erregung Stimuliert oder Hemmt H S/H S S H H H H Die öffentlichen Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit von S2 werden oft von Searle und anderen als COS, Vertretungen, bezeichnet. Wahrheitsmacher Oder Bedeutungen (oder COS2 von Mich), während die automatischen Ergebnisse von S1 als Präsentationen von anderen (oder COS1 von mir) bezeichnet werden. * Aka Neigungen, Fähigkeiten, Einstellungen, Darstellungen, mögliche Aktionen usw. ** Searles vorherige Absichten *** Searles Absicht in Aktion **** Searles Anpassungsrichtung ***** Searles Richtung der Verursachung ****** (Geisteszustand instanziiert Ursachen oder erfüllt sich selbst). Searle nannte dies früher kausal selbstreferenziell. ******* Tversky / Kahneman / Frederick / Evans / Stanovich definierten kognitive Systeme. ******** Hier und Jetzt oder Dort und Dann Man sollte Wittgensteins Entdeckung immer im Hinterkopf behalten, dass wir, nachdem wir die möglichen Verwendungen (Bedeutungen, Wahrheitsmacher, Befriedigungsbedingungen) der Sprache in einem bestimmten Kontext beschrieben haben, ihr Interesse erschöpft haben und Erklärungsversuche (d.h. Philosophie) uns nur weiter von der Wahrheit wegbringen. Es ist wichtig zu beachten, dass diese Tabelle nur eine stark vereinfachte kontextfreie Heuristik ist und jede Verwendung eines Wortes in ihrem Kontext untersucht werden muss. Die beste Untersuchung der Kontextvariation ist in Peter Hackers jüngsten 3 Bänden über human Enatur, die zahlreiche Tabellen und Diagramme liefern, die mit diesem verglichen werden sollten. Wer einen umfassenden aktuellen Bericht über Wittgenstein, Searle und deren Verhaltensanalyse aus der modernen ZweiSystem-Ansicht wünscht, kann meinen Artikel The Logical Structure of Philosophy, Psychology, Mind and Language in Ludwig Wittgenstein und John Searle 2nd ed (2019) einsehen. ERLÄUTERUNG DER TABELLE Vor etwa einer Million Jahren entwickelten Primaten die Fähigkeit, ihre Kehlkopfmuskeln zu nutzen, um komplexe Bilder (d.h. primitive Sprache) zu machen, um gegenwärtige Ereignisse (Wahrnehmungen, Gedächtnis, reflexive Handlungen, die als Primäre oder Primitive Sprachspiele (PLGs) beschrieben werden können – d.h. eine Klasse von Reflexen des schnellen assoziativen, unbewussten automatisierten Systems 1, subkortikal, nicht repräsentational, zu beschreiben. ursächlich selbstreferenziell, intransitiv, informationslos, nur mentale Zustände mit einer genauen Zeit und einem genauen Ort) und entwickelte nach und nach die weitere Fähigkeit, Verschiebungen in Raum und Zeit zu erfassen, um Erinnerungen, Einstellungen und potenzielle Ereignisse (Vergangenheit und Zukunft und oft kontrafaktische, bedingte oder fiktive Präferenzen, Neigungen oder Dispositionendie Sekundäroder Hochentwickelten Sprachspiele (SLG's) von System 2 langsam, kortikal, bewusst, , gegenständliches, wahres oder falsches propositionales Attitudinaldenken, das keine genaue Zeit hat und Fähigkeiten und keine mentalen Zustände sind). Präferenzen sind Intuitionen, Tendenzen, automatische ontologische Regeln, Verhaltensweisen, Fähigkeiten, Kognitive Module, Persönlichkeitsmerkmale, Vorlagen, Inferenzmotoren, Neigungen, Emotionen, Propositionale Einstellungen, Beurteilungen, Kapazitäten, Hypothesen. Einige Emotionen sind Typ-2-Einstellungen (W RPP2 148). "Ich glaube", "er liebt", "sie denken" sind Beschreibungen möglicher öffentlicher Handlungen, die typischerweisein der Raumzeit platziert werden. Meine Aussagenaus der erstenPerson über mich selbst sind nur wahr (ohne Lügen), während Aussagen Dritter über andere wahr oder falsch sind (siehe meine Rezension von Johnston 'Wittgenstein: Rethinking the Inner'). "Präferenzen" als eine Klasse von absichtlichen Zuständen -im Gegensatz zu Wahrnehmungen, reflexiven Handlungen und Erinnerungen -wurden zuerst von Wittgenstein (W) in den 1930er Jahren klar beschrieben und als "Neigungen" oder "Veranlagungen" bezeichnet. Sie werden seit Russell gemeinhin als "propositionale Haltungen" bezeichnet, aber dies ist eine irreführende Phrase, da das Glauben, beabsichtigen, wissen,erinnern usw. oft keine Sätze oder Haltungen sind, wie z.B. W und Searle gezeigt haben (z.B. vgl. Bewusstsein und Sprache S118). Sie sind intrinsische, beobachterunabhängige mentale Darstellungen (im Gegensatz zu Darstellungen oder Darstellungen von System 1 bis System 2 – SearleC+L p53). Es sind potenzielle Handlungen, die in Zeit oder Raum verdrängt werden, während die evolutionär primitiveren S1Wahrnehmungen Erinnerungen und reflexive Handlungen immer hier und jetzt sind. Dies ist eine Möglichkeit, System 2 – den grossen Fortschritt in der Wirbeltierpsychologie nach System 1 – die Fähigkeit zu charakterisieren, Ereignisse darzustellen und sie als an einem anderen Ort oder in einer anderen Zeit zu betrachten (Searles dritte Fähigkeit der kontrafaktischen Vorstellungskraft, die Kognition und Wille ergänzt). S2-Dispositionen sind Handlungsfähigkeiten (Kontraktmuskeln, die Sprachoder Körperbewegungen über S1 erzeugen, zu deren Zeiten sie zu kausalen und mentalen Zuständen werden). Manchmal können Dispositionen als unbewusst angesehen werden, da sie später-Searle Phil Issues 1:45-66(1991) bewusst werden können. Wahrnehmungen, Erinnerungen und reflexive (automatische) Aktionen können als S1 oder Primary Language Games(PLGs --z.B. ich sehe den Hund) beschrieben werden und es sind im Normalfall KEINE TESTS möglich, so dass sie nur True sein können. Dispositionen könnenals sekundäre LG es beschriebenwerden(SLG es – z.B. glaube ich, dass ich den Hund sehe) und müssen auch ausgespielt werden, auch für mich in meinem eigenen Fall (d.h. wie erWEIss ich, was ich glaube, denke, fühle, bis ich handle – siehe oben Zitate von W). Dispositionen werden auch zu Handlungen, wenn sie gesprochen oder geschrieben werden, sowie auf andere Weise, und diese Ideen sind alle Auffall Wittgenstein (Mitte der 1930er Jahre) und sind NICHT Verhaltenismus (Hintikka & Hintikka 1981, Searle, Hutto etc.,). Wittgenstein kann als Begründer der Evolutionspsychologie angesehen werden und seine Arbeit eine einzigartige Untersuchung der Funktionsweise unserer axiomamatischen System 1 Psychologie und ihre Interaktion mit System 2. Obwohl es nur wenige gut verstanden haben (und wohl bis heute niemand en), wurde es von einigen wenigen weiterentwickelt vor allem von John Searle, der in seinem klassischen Buch Rationality in Action (2001) eine einfachere Version dieses Tisches machte. Es erweitert W es Überblick über die axiomatische Struktur der Evolutionspsychologie, die sich seit seinen ersten Kommentaren 1911 entwickelte und in seinem letzten Werk On Certainty (OC) (geschrieben 1950-51) so schön dargelegt wurde. OC ist der Grundstein für Verhalten oder Erkenntnistheorie und Ontologie (wohl die gleiche), kognitive Linguistik oder DPHOT, und meiner Meinung nach die wichtigste Arbeit in der Philosophie (deskriptive Psychologie) und damit in der Untersuchung von Verhalten. Wahrnehmung, Erinnerung, Reflexive Handlungen und Grundemotionen sind primitive, teils subkortikale Unfreiwillige Mentale Zustände, die in PLGs beschrieben werden können, in denen der Geist automatisch zur Welt passt S1 ist nur nach oben kausal (Welt-zu-Geist-Richtung der Anpassung)und inhaltslos (fehlende Darstellungen oder Informationen) (ist kausal selbstreferenziell-Searle) -die unbestreitbare, wahre, nur aufwärts gerichtete, axiomatische Grundlage der Rationalität. Vorlieben, Wünsche und Absichten sind Beschreibungen des langsamen Denkens bewusster freiwilliger Fähigkeiten – die in SLGs beschrieben werden können –in denen der Geist versucht, zur Welt zu passen S2 hat Inhalt und ist nach unten kausal (Geist zur Weltrichtung der Anpassung). Verhalten und all die anderen Verwechslungen unserer standardbeschreibenden Psychologie (Philosophie) entstehen, weil wir S1 nicht funktionieren sehen und alle Aktionen mit Secondary Language Games (SLG es) beschreiben können, die S The Phenomenological Illusion (TPI) nennt. W. verstand dies und beschrieb es mit unvergleichlicher Klarheit mit Hunderten von Beispielen der Sprache (des Geistes) in Aktion während seiner Werke. Die Vernunft hat Zugriff auf das Arbeitsgedächtnis und so verwenden wir bewusst offensichtliche, aber in der Regel falsche Gründe, um Verhalten zu erklären (die Zwei Selbst der aktuellen Forschung). Überzeugungen und andere Dispositionen können als Gedanken beschrieben werden, die versuchen, die Tatsachen der Welt zu entsprechen (Geist zur Weltrichtung des Anpassens), während Volitions Absichten sind zu handeln (Prior Intentions - PI, und Intentions In Action-IA-Searle) plus Handlungen, die versuchen, die Welt mit den Gedanken zu entsprechen – Welt zu Denken Richtung der Anpassung – vgl.. Searle z.B., C+L p145, 190). Manchmal gibt es Lücken in der Argumentation, um zu Glauben und anderen Dispositionen zu gelangen. Neigungswörter können als Substantive verwendet werden, die mentale Zustände (z. B. Glauben) zu beschreiben scheinen, oder als Verben, die Fähigkeiten beschreiben (Agenten, wie sie handeln oder handeln könnten) (z. B. glauben) und oft fälschlicherweise als "Propositionale Einstellungen" bezeichnet werden. Wahrnehmungen: ("X" ist wahr): Hören, Sehen, Riechen, Schmerz, Berührung, Temperatur Erinnerungen: Erinnern, Träumen? Präferenzen, Neigungen, Entsorgungen X könnte Wahr werden): KLASSE 1: PROPOSITIONAL(Wahr oder falsch) ÖFFENTLICHE APOSTELGESCHICHTE des Glaubens, Desivierens, Denkens, Repräsentierens, Verstehens, Wählens, Entscheidens, Bevorzugens, Interpretierens, Wissen (einschliesslich Fähigkeiten und Fähigkeiten), Wissen (einschliesslich Fähigkeiten und Fähigkeiten), Lernen (Lernen), Erleben, Sinn, Erinnern, Ichverinnerlichen, Nachdenken, Wünschen, Wünschen,Hoffen (einebesondere Klasse), Sehen als (Aspekte), KLASSE 2: Entkoppelter Modus :als ob, bedingt, hypothetisch, fiktiv) Träumen, Imaginieren, Lügen, Vorhersagen, Zweifeln KLASSE 3: EMOTIONEN: Lieben, Hass, Angst, Trauer, Freude, Eifersucht, Depression. Ihre Funktion ist es, Präferenzen zu modulieren, um inklusive Fitness zu erhöhen (erwartet maximale Nützlichkeit) durch die Erleichterung der Informationsverarbeitung von Wahrnehmungen und Erinnerungen für schnelles Handeln. Es gibt eine gewisse Trennung zwischen S1-Emotionen wie Wut und Angst und S2 wie Liebe, Hass, Ekel und Wut. WÜNSCHE: (Ich möchte, dass "X" wahr ist - ich möchtedie Welt ändern, um meinen Gedanken zu entsprechen): Sehnsucht, Hoffen, Erwarten, Warten, Brauchen, Erfordern, verpflichtet, INTENTIONEN zu tun: (Ich werde "X" wahr machen) Intending AKTIONEN (Ich mache "X" True) : Handeln, Sprechen, Lesen, Schreiben, Rechnen, Überzeugen, Zeigen, Demonstrieren, Überzeugen, Versuchen, Versuchen, Lachen, Spielen, Essen, Trinken, Weinen, Bestätigen (beschreiben, lehren, vorhersagen, berichten), Versprechen, Erstellen oder Verwenden von Karten, Büchern, Zeichnungen, Computerprogrammen – das sind öffentliche und freiwillige und übertragene Informationen an andere, so dass sie über das Unbewusste, Unfreiwillige und Informationslose s1-Reflexe dominieren. WÖRTER AUSDRÜCKEN MÖGLICHE MASSNAHMEN MIT VERSCHIEDENEN FUNKTIONEN IN UNSEREM LEBEN UND SIND NICHT DIE NAMEN VON OBJEKTEN ODER EINER EINZIGEN VERANSTALTUNG. Wir fahren ein Auto, aber auch besitzen es, sehen es, sehen sein Foto, träumen davon, stellen es sich vor, erwarten es, erinnern es sich. Die sozialen Interaktionen des Menschen werden durch kognitive Module bestimmt – in etwa gleichbedeutend mit den Skripten oder Schemata der Sozialpsychologie (Gruppen von Neuronen, die in Rückschlussmotoren organisiert sind), die mit Wahrnehmungen und Erinnerungen zur Bildung von Präferenzen führen, die zu Absichten und dann zu Handlungen führen. Intentionalität oder absichtliche Psychologie kann als all diese Prozesse oder nur Vorlieben, die zu Aktionen und im weiteren Sinne ist das Thema der kognitiven Psychologie oder kognitive neurowissenschaften, wenn neurophysiologie, Neurochemie und Neurogenetik. Evolutionspsychologie kann als das Studium aller vorhergehenden Funktionen oder der Funktionsweise der Module betrachtet werden, die Verhalten erzeugen, und ist dann koextensiv in Evolution, Entwicklung und individuellem Handeln mit Vorlieben, Absichten und Handlungen. Da die Axiome (Algorithmen oder kognitive Module) unserer Psychologie in unseren Genen liegen, können wir unser Verständnis erweitern, indem wir klare Beschreibungen ihrer Funktionsweise geben und sie (Kultur) über Biologie, Psychologie, Philosophie (beschreibende Psychologie), Mathematik, Logik, Physik und Computerprogramme erweitern und so schneller und effizienter machen. Hajek (2003) gibt eine Analyse der Dispositionen als bedingte Wahrscheinlichkeiten und sie werden von Spohn usw. algorithmisiert. Intentionalität (kognitive oder evolutionäre Psychologie) besteht aus verschiedenen Aspekten des Verhaltens, die von Natur aus in kognitive Module programmiert sind (wie auch immer definiert), die Bewusstsein, Willen und Selbst und bei normalen menschlichen Erwachsenen schaffen und erfordern, und bei normalen menschlichen Erwachsenen sind alle Dispositionen zweckdienlich, erfordern öffentliche Handlungen (z.B., und verpflichten uns zu Beziehungen (genannt Desire Independent Reasons for ActionDIRA von Searle), um unsere inklusive Fitness zu erhöhen (maximal erwarteter Nutzen – manchmal als kontrovers-Bayesische Nutzenmaximierung bezeichnet) über Dominanz und gegenseitigen Altruismus und erzwingen Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit auf Bedingungen der Zufriedenheit Searle-(d.h., beziehen Gedanken auf die Welt durch öffentliche Handlungen Muskelbewegungen – d.h., Mathematik, Sprache, Kunst, Musik, Sex, Sex usw.). Die Grundlagen dafür hat unser grösster Naturpsychologe Ludwig Wittgenstein aus den 1930er Jahren bis 1951 herausgefunden, aber mit klaren Vorahnungen bis ins Jahr 1911 ("Der allgemeine Baum der psychologischen Phänomene. Ich strebe nicht nach Genauigkeit, sondern nach einem Blick auf das Ganze." RPP Vol 1 P895 cf Z P464), und mit Verfeinerungen von vielen, vor allem aber von John Searle ab den 1960er Jahren. Ein Grossteil unserer S2-Intentionalität gibt Grad oder Art (hauptsächlich Sprachspiele) zu. Wie W bemerkte, sind Neigungen (z.B. Denken) manchmal bewusst und deliberativ. Alle unsere Vorlagen (Funktionen, Konzepte, Sprachspiele) haben in einigen Kontexten unscharfe Kanten, da sie nützlich sein müssen. Es gibt mindestens zwei Arten des Denkens (d.h. zwei Sprachspiele oder Methoden, das Dispositionsverb ' 'thinking'zu verwenden)- nicht rational ohne Bewusstsein und rational mit partiellem Bewusstsein (W), das jetzt als das schnelle und langsame Denken von S1 und S2 beschrieben wird. Es ist nützlich, diese als Sprachspiele und nicht als blosse Phänomene zu betrachten (W RPP2 129). Mentale Phänomene (unsere subjektiven oder inneren "Erfahrungen") sind epiphänomenal, mangeln Kriterien, daher fehlt es an Informationen auch für sich selbst und kann daher keine Rolle in Kommunikation, Denken oder Geist spielen. Wie alle Dispositionen (Neigungen, propositionale Einstellungen) zu denken, ist kein mentaler Zustand und enthält keine Informationen, bis es ein öffentlicher Akt wird (realisiert ein COS) in Sprache, Schreiben oder anderen muskelmuskulaturkontrakten. Unsere Wahrnehmungen und Erinnerungen können Informationen (Bedeutungs-COS) haben, wenn sie sich in öffentlichen Handlungen über S2 manifestieren, denn nur dann haben sie auch für uns selbst eine Bedeutung (Konsequenzen). Gedächtnis und Wahrnehmung werden durch Module in Dispositionen integriert, die psychologisch wirksam werden, wenn sie betätigt werden. Sprache zu entwickeln bedeutet, die angeborene Fähigkeit zu manifestieren, Wörter durch Handlungen zu ersetzen. Der gebräuchliche Begriff TOM (Theory of Mind) wird viel besser genannt (UA-Understanding of Agency). Intentionalität ist die angeborene genetisch programmierte Produktion von Bewusstsein, Selbst und Denken, die zu Absichten und dann zu Handlungen führt, indem sie Muskeln ansteckt. So ist "Propositional Attitude" ein verwirrender Begriff für normale intuitive rationale oder nicht-rationale speech und Aktion, aber ich gebe es als Synonym für Dispositionen, da es immer noch weit verbreitet von denen, die mit W und S vertraut sind.Die Bemühungen der kognitiven Wissenschaft, denken zu verstehen, Emotionen usw. durch das Studium der Neurophysiologie wird uns nichts mehr darüber sagen, wie der Geist (Gedanken, Sprache) funktioniert (im Gegensatz zu der Funktionsweise des Gehirns), als wir bereits wissen, weil "Geist" (Gedanke, Sprache) bereits in der vollen Öffentlichkeit ist (W). Alle Phänomene, die in Neurophysiologie, Biochemie,Genetik, Quantenmechanik oder Stringtheorie verborgen sind, sind für unser soziales Leben ebenso irrelevant wie die Tatsache, dass ein Tisch aus Atomen besteht, die die Gesetze der Physik und Chemie "gehorchen" (kann beschrieben werden), um darauf zu Mittag zu essen. Wie W so berühmt sagte "Nichts ist versteckt". Alles, was am Geist (Gedanken, Sprache) interessiert ist, ist offen zu sehen, wenn wir nur das Funktionieren der Sprache sorgfältig untersuchen. Die Sprache wurde entwickelt, um die soziale Interaktion und damit das Sammeln von Ressourcen, Überleben und Reproduktion zu erleichtern. Seine Grammatik funktioniert automatisch und ist extrem verwirrend, wenn wir versuchen, es zu analysieren. Wörter und Sätze werden je nach Kontext mehrfach verwendet. Ich glaube und ich esse, habe grundlegend andere Rollen, wie ich glaube, und ich habe geglaubt oder ich glaube und er glaubt. Die gegenwärtige angespannte erste Person ausdrucksstarke Verwendung von neigungsnationalen Verben wie "Ich glaube' beschreiben meine Fähigkeit, meine wahrscheinlichen Handlungen vorherzusagen und sind nicht beschreibend für meinen mentalen Zustand noch auf Wissen oder Informationen im üblichen Sinne dieser Worte (W). "Ich glaube, es regnet", "Ich glaubte, es regnete", "er glaubt,dass es regnet","er wird glauben, dasses regnet","Ich glaube, es wird regnen" oder "er wird denken, dass es regnet" potenziell überprüfbare öffentliche Handlungen, die in der Raumzeit verdrängt werden, die beabsichtigen, Informationen (oder Fehlinformationen) zu vermitteln, und so COS haben, die ihre Wahrheit (oder Falschheit) Hersteller sind. Nicht-reflektierende oder nicht-rationale (automatische) Wörter, die ohne vorherige Absicht gesprochen wurden, wurden von W & dann von DMS in ihrer Arbeit in Philosophical Psychology im Jahr 2000 als Worte als Taten bezeichnet) sind typisch für einen Grossteil unseres Verhaltens, da sie S1 und S2 überbrücken, die in beide Richtungen interagieren, die meisten unseres Wachlebens. Wahrnehmungen, Erinnerungen, einige Emotionen und viele "Typ 1 Dispositionen" werden besser Reflexe von S1 genannt und sind automatische, nicht-reflektierende, NON-Propositionale und NON-Attitudinale Funktion der Scharniere (Axiome, Algorithmen) unserer Evolutionspsychologie (Moyal-Sharrock nach Wittgenstein). Nun zu einigen Kommentaren zu "The Opacity of Mind" (OM). Als ich die erste Seite des Vorworts fertigstellte, erkannte ich, dass dieses Buch nur ein weiteres hoffnungsloses Durcheinander war (die Norm in der Philosophie). Er machte deutlich, dass er weder die Subtilität von Sprachspielen (z. B. die drastisch unterschiedlichen Verwendungen von "Ich weiss, ich bin wach", "Ich weiss, was ich meine" und "Ich weiss, was Zeit ist" hat) noch die Art der Dispositionen (die er durch den irreführenden und veralteten Begriff "propositionale Einstellungen" nennt) und seine Vorstellungen über Verhalten auf solchen Begriffen wie privater Sprache stützte. , Introspektion der "inneren Sprache" und die rechnerische Beschreibung des Geistes, die von W 3/4 von einem Jahrhundert und von S und vielen anderen seither zur Ruhe gelegt wurden. Aber ich wusste, dass die meisten Bücher über menschliches Verhalten genauso verwirrt sind und dass er eine Zusammenfassung der jüngsten wissenschaftlichen Arbeiten über die Gehirnfunktionen geben würde, die dem Denken höherer Ordnung (HOT) entsprechen, also hielt ich weiter. Bevor ich ein Buch in Philosophie oder Kognitionswissenschaft lese, gehe ich zum Index und zur Bibliographie, um zu sehen, wen sie zitieren, und versuche dann, einige Rezensionen und vor allem einen Artikel in BBS zu finden, da es Peer-Feedback hat, was im Allgemeinen sehr informativ ist. Wie oben erwähnt, sind W und S zwei der berühmtesten Namen in diesem Bereich, aber in dem Index und der Bibliographie fand ich nur 3 triviale Erwähnungen von W und nicht eine für S oder Hacker – sicherlich die bemerkenswerteste Leistung dieses Bandes. Wie erwartet, waren mehrere Rezensionen aus philosophischen Zeitschriften nutzlos und die BBS-Antworten auf seine Précis dieses Buches erscheinen verheerend -obwohl, charakteristisch (mit Ausnahme einer Erwähnung von W) -auch sie ahnungslos über WS sind. Bemerkenswerter, obwohl er viele Referenzen so neu wie 2012 enthält, ist der BBS-Artikel von 2009 nicht darunter, und soweit ich mich erinnern kann, gibt er keine substanziellen Antworten auf seine Kritik in diesem Buch. Folglich ist das leistungsstarke WS-inspirierte LSR-Framework völlig abwesend und alle Verwirrungen, die es beseitigt hat, sind auf fast jeder Seite reichlich vorhanden. Wenn Sie die oben genannten und meine anderen Rezensionen und dann den BBS-Artikel (leicht im Netz verfügbar) Lesen, wird Ihre Ansicht dieses Buches (und die meisten in dieser Arena schreiben) wahrscheinlich ganz anders sein. Natürlich ist der grösste Fehler der BBS offensichtlich--die Kommentatoren nur einen einseitigen Kommentar und keine Antwort erhalten, während die Autoren einen langen Artikel und eine lange Antwort erhalten,, so dass es immer scheint, dass sie sich durchsetzen. Es ist jedoch klar, dass C is ISA-Theorie, wie die meisten (alle?) philosophischen Theorien ist ein Formverschiebung, die ändert, um "erklären" jeden Einwand. Soverwischt, die Grenze zwischen einer sinnvollen Theorie (eigentlich einer Beschreibung),die an Fakten gebundenist, und einer vagen Vorstellung, die nichts "erklärt"., Natürlich sagt C oft, dass seine Theorie solche und solche Beobachtungen "vorhersagt",, aber, dies scheint nach der Tatsache und natürlich die entgegengesetzten Theorien Auch Formverschiebung enden. Eine mächtige Theorie sagt Dinge voraus, die niemand erwartet hat, und sogar das Gegenteil von dem, was sie erwartet hatten. Wir werden auch an W es ständige Anordnungen erinnert, sich an die Beschreibung der Fakten zu halten und otiose "Erklärungen" zu vermeiden. W s definitive Argumente gegen Introspektion und private Sprache sind in meinen anderen Bewertungen vermerkt und sind sehr bekannt. Im, Grunde sind sie so klar wie der Tag – wir müssen einen Test haben, um zwischen A und B zu unterscheiden, und Tests können nur extern und öffentlich sein. Berühmt illustrierte er dies mit dem "Käfer in der Box". Wenn wir alle eine Kiste haben, die nicht geöffnet oder geröntifzt usw. ist und das, was sich in einem "Käfer" befindet, nennen, dann kann "Käfer" keine Rolle in der Sprache spielen, denn jede Schachtel könnte eine andere Sache enthalten oder sie könnte sogar leer sein. Es gibt also keine private Sprache, die nur ich kennen kann, und keine Introspektion der 'inneren Sprache'. Wenn X nicht öffentlich nachweisbar ist, kann es kein Wort in unserer Sprache sein. Dies schiesst Carruthers (C's) ISA-Theorie des Geistes ab, sowie alle anderen "inneren Sinn"-Theorien, auf die er verweist, und ein riesiges A von anderen Büchern und Artikeln. Ich habe W es Demontage des Begriffs der Introspektion und der Funktionsweise der Dispositionssprache ("Propositional Attitudes") oben und in meinen Rezensionen von Budd, Johnston und einigen von S' Büchern erklärt. Grundsätzlichzeigteer, dass das kausale Verhältnis und Das Wortund Objektmodell, das für S1 funktioniert, nicht für S2 gilt. Was DIE ISA betrifft, so haben viele die Idee einer "Gedankensprache" dekonstruiert, aber meiner Meinung nach nichts Besseres als W in BBB S. 37- "wenn wir die Möglichkeit eines Bildes im Auge behalten, das zwar richtig ist, aber keine Ähnlichkeit mit seinem Gegenstand hat, verliert die Interpolation eines Schattens zwischen Satz und Wirklichkeit jeglichen Punkt. Vorerst, kann der Satz selbst als solcher Schatten dienen. Der Satz ist genau so ein Bild, das nicht die geringste Ähnlichkeit mit dem hat, was er darstellt." Eine Sache, die man bedenken muss, ist, dass philosophische Theorien keinerlei praktische Auswirkungen haben die wirkliche Rolle der Philosophie ist es, Verwirrungen darüber zu beseitigen, wie Sprache in bestimmten Fällen verwendet wird (W). Wie verschiedene "physikalische Theorien", aber im Gegensatz zu anderen Karikaturen ansichten des Lebens (d.h. die Standard religiösen, politischen, psychologischen, soziologischen, biologischen, medizinischen, wirtschaftlichen, anthropologischen und historischen Ansichten der meisten Menschen), ist es zu zerebrale und esoterische, um von mehr als einem winzigen Rand erfasst werden, und es ist so unrealistisch, dass selbst seine Anhänger es in ihrem täglichen Leben völlig ignorieren. Ebenso, , mit anderen akademischen "Theorien des Lebens" wie dem Standard Social Science oder Blank Slate Model weit verbreitet von Soziologie, Anthropologie, Poppsychologie, Geschichte und Literatur. Jedoch, Religionen grosse und kleine, politische Bewegungen, und manchmal Wirtschaft oft erzeugen oder umarmen bereits existierende Karikaturen, die Physik und Biologie (menschliche Natur) ignorieren, posit Kräfte terrestrischen oder kosmischen, die unsere Aberglauben verstärken (unsere angeboren inspirierten psychologischen Vorgaben), und helfen, Die Erde zu verwüsten (der eigentliche Zweck fast jeder sozialen Praxis und Institution, die da sind, um die Replikation von Genen und den Konsum von Ressourcen zu erleichtern). Der Punkt ist zu erkennen, dass diese auf einem Kontinuum mit philosophischen Karikaturen sind und die gleiche Quelle haben. Man könnte von uns allen sagen, dass wir verschiedene Cartoon-Ansichten über das Leben haben, wenn junge und nur wenige jemals aus ihnen herauswachsen. Beachten Sie auch, dass, wie W vor langer Zeit bemerkte, das Präfix "meta" in den meisten (vielleicht allen) Kontexten unnötig und verwirrend ist, so dass für "Metakognition" in diesem Buch "Kognition" oder "Denken" ersetzt wird, da das Nachdenken darüber, was wir oder andere glauben oder wissen, wie jeder andere denkt und auch nicht als "Mindreading" (UA in meiner Terminologie) angesehen werden muss. In S es Worten sind die COS der Test dessen, was gedacht wird, und sie sind identisch für 'es regnet', ich glaube, es regnet', "Ich glaube, du glaubst, es regnet" und "er glaubt, dass es regnet" (auch für "Weiss", Wünsche, Richter, versteht, etc.), nämlich dass es regnet. Dies ist die entscheidende Tatsache, die man in Bezug auf "Metakognition" und "Mindreading" von Dispositionen ("propositionale Einstellungen") im Auge behalten muss, die C fördert. Eine der Antworten in BBS war von Dennett (der die meisten VonC-Illusionen teilt), der diese Ideen recht gut zu finden scheint, mit der Ausnahme, dass C die Verwendung von "Ich" eliminieren sollte, da es die Existenz eines höheren Selbst annimmt (das Ziel ist eine harte Reduzierung von S2 auf S1). Natürlich ist der eigentliche Akt des Schreibens, Lesens und aller Sprache und Konzepte von allem, was selbst, Bewusstsein und Willen voraussetzt (wie S oft bemerkt), so dass ein solcher Bericht nur eine Karikatur des Lebens ohne jeglichen Wert wäre, was man wahrscheinlich von den meisten philosophischen Verhaltensberichten sagen könnte. Das WS-Framework hat seit langem festgestellt, dass die erste Person Standpunkt ist nicht eliminierbar oder auf eine dritte Person eine, aber dies ist kein Problem für die Cartoon-Ansicht des Lebens. Ebenso, mit der Beschreibung der Gehirnfunktion oder des Verhaltens als 'computational', 'information processing' usw., -alles gut entlarvt unzählige Male von WS, Hutto, Read, Hacker und vielen anderen. Das Schlimmste ist die entscheidende, aber völlig unklare "Repräsentation", für die ich s. die Verwendung als Bedingung der Zufriedenheit (COS) der Darstellung (d.h. der gleichen Form wie für alle Dispositionssubstantive und ihre Verben) für bei weitem die beste halte. Das heisst, die 'Repräsentation' von 'Ich denke, es regnet' ist das COS, dass es regnet. Traurigste von allem ist, dass C (wie Dennett) denkt, er sei ein Experte auf W, nachdem er ihn früh in seiner Karriere studiert und beschlossen hat, dass das Argument der privaten Sprache als "Verhaltenismus" zurückgewiesen werden soll! W. lehnte Denastismus ab und ein Grossteil seiner Arbeit widmet sich der Beschreibung, warum sie nicht als Beschreibung des Verhaltens dienen kann. "Sind Sie nicht wirklich ein verkleideter Verhaltensforscher? Sagen Sie nicht im Grunde wirklich, dass alles ausser menschlichem Verhalten eine Fiktion ist? Wenn ich von einer Fiktion spreche, dann ist sie eine grammatikalische Fiktion." (PI P307) Und man kann auch auf echten Verhaltensbein in C in seiner modernen "computationalistischen" Form verweisen. WS bestehen auf der Unverzichtbarkeit der ersten Person Standpunkt, während C entschuldigt sich bei D in der BBS Artikel für die Verwendung von "Ich" oder "Selbst". Dies ist meiner Meinung nach der Unterschied zwischen einer genauen Beschreibung des Sprachgebrauchs und der Verwendung, die man sich in einer Karikatur vorstellen kann. Hutto hat die grosse Kluft zwischen W und Dennett (D) gezeigt, die auch dazu dienen wird, C zu charakterisieren, da ich D und C (zusammen mit dem Churchland und vielen anderen) auf derselben Seite befinde. S ist einer von vielen, die D in verschiedenen Schriften dekonstruierthaben, und diese können alle in Opposition zu C gelesen werden. Und erinnern wir uns daran, dass W an Beispielen der Sprache in Aktion festhält, und wenn man den Punkt bekommt, ist er meist sehr leicht zu folgen, während C von "Theorisierung" fasziniert ist (d.h. zahlreiche Sätze ohne klares COS verkettet) und sich selten um bestimmte Sprachspiele kümmert, experimentel und beobachtungen bevorzugt, die ziemlich schwer definitiv zu interpretieren sind (siehe BBSAntworten), und die ohnehin keine Relevanz für übergeordnete Verhaltensbeschreibungen haben (z.B. wie sie genau in die Absichtstabelle passen). Ein Buch C lobt als endgültig (Memory and the Computational Brain) präsentiert das Gehirn als computergestützten Informationsprozessor – eine sophomorische Ansicht, die von S und anderen gründlich und wiederholt vernichtet wird. In den letzten zehn Jahren, habe ich Tausende von Seiten von und über W gelesen und es ist ganz klar, dass C keine Ahnung hat. Darin schliesst er sich einer langen Reihe namhafter Philosophen und Wissenschaftler an, deren Lektüre von W fruchtlos war – Russell, Quine, Godel, Kreisel, Chomsky, Dummett, Kripke, Dennett, Putnam usw. (obwohl Putnam später anfing, das Licht zu sehen). Sie können einfach nicht erkennen, dass die meisten Philosophie grammatische Witze und unmögliche Vignetten sind – eine Karikatur Ansicht des Lebens. Bücher wie diese, die versuchen, zwei Ebenen der Beschreibung zu überbrücken, sind wirklich zwei Bücher und nicht eines. Es gibt die Beschreibung (keine Erklärung, wie W deutlich machte) unserer Sprache und nonverbalen Verhaltens und dann die Experimente der kognitiven Psychologie. "Die Existenz der experimentellen Methode lässt uns denken, dass wir die Mittel haben, um die Probleme zu lösen, die uns beunruhigen; Problem und Methode aneinander vorbeigehen." (W PI p232), C et al sind von der Wissenschaft begeistert und gehen einfach davon aus, dass es ein grosser Fortschritt für die Verweigung der Metaphysik zur Neurowissenschaft und experimentellen Psychologie ist, aber WS und viele andere haben gezeigt, dass dies ein Fehler ist. Weit davon entfernt, die Beschreibung des Verhaltens wissenschaftlich und klar zu machen, macht es es inkohärent. Und es muss durch die Gnade Gottes gewesen sein, dass Locke, Kant, Hume, Nietzsche, Sartre, Wittgenstein, Searle et al. in der Lage waren, solche denkwürdigen Berichte über das Verhalten ohne irgendeine experimentale Wissenschaft zu geben. Natürlich,, wie Politiker, Philosophen selten zugeben Fehler oder schliessen, so dass dies wird immer weiter aus Gründen W perfekt diagnostiziert. Unterm Strich muss es sein, was nützlich ist und was in unserem Alltag Sinn macht. Ich schlage vor, dass die philosophischen Ansichten von CDC (Carruthers, Dennett, Churchland), im Gegensatz zu denen von WS, nicht nützlich sind und ihre endgültigen Schlussfolgerungen, dass Wille, Selbst und Bewusstsein Illusionen sind, überhaupt keinen Sinn ergeben – d.h. sie sind bedeutungslos, keine klaren COS zu haben. Ob die CDC-Kommentare zur Kognitionswissenschaft einen heuristischen Wert haben, bleibt abzuwarten. Dieses Buch (wie ein riesiger Körper anderer Schriften) versucht, das HOT anderer Tiere zu vernachlässigen und das Verhalten auf Gehirnfunktionen zu reduzieren (Psychologie in die Physiologie zu absorbieren). Die Philosophie ist eine Katastrophe, aber wenn man zuerst die vielen Kritiken in der BBS liest, könnte der Kommentar zur jüngsten Psychologie und Physiologie von Interesse sein. Wie Dennett, Churchland und so viele andere oft, offenbart C seine wahren Edelsteine nicht bis zum Ende, wenn uns gesagt wird, dass Selbst, Wille, Bewusstsein (in den Sinnen, in denen diese Worte normalerweise funktionieren) Illusionen sind (angeblich im normalen Sinne dieses Wortes). Dennett musste von S, Hutto et al entlarvt werden, um diese "Aberglauben" zu erklären (d.h. überhaupt nicht zu erklären und tatsächlich nicht einmal zubeschreiben), aber erstaunlicherweise gibt C es auch am Anfang zu, obwohl er natürlich denkt, dass er uns diese Worte zeigt, die nicht bedeuten, was wir denken und dass seine Cartoon-Nutzung die gültige ist. Man sollte auch Hackers Kritik an Zahnrädern mit Antworten von S und Dennett in "Neuroscience and Philosophy" sehen und in Hackers Büchern "Human Nature"(3 Bände) und "Philosophical Foundations of Neuroscience" (siehe meine Rezensionen von HN V1) gut erforscht sehen. Es ist bemerkenswert, dass praktisch niemand in allen Verhaltensdisziplinen (in denen ich Literatur, Geschichte, Politik, Religion, Recht, Kunst usw.einschliesse). sowie die offensichtlichen) immer erklärt entweder ihren logischen Rahmen oder was es ist, dass sie versuchen, zu erreichen und welche Rolle Sprachanalyse und Wissenschaft spielen, so dass alle, die an Verhalten interessiert könnten erwägen, Hackers schöne Zusammenfassung, was Philosophie (DPHOT) zu tun und wie dies mit wissenschaftlichen Bestrebungen zusammenhängt. "Traditionelle Epistemologen wollen wissen, ob Wissen wahrer Glaube und eine weitere Bedingung ist ... oder ob Wissen nicht einmal Glauben impliziert ... Wir wollen wissen, wann Wissen das tut und wann es keiner Rechtfertigung bedarf. Wir müssen uns darüber im Klaren sein, was einem Menschen zugeschrieben wird, wenn gesagt wird, dass er etwas weiss. Ist es ein unverwechselbarer mentaler Zustand, eine Leistung, eine Leistung, eine Disposition oder eine Fähigkeit? Könnte wissen oder glauben, dass p identisch mit einem Zustand des Gehirns sein? Warum kann man sagen: "Er glaubt das p, aber es ist nicht so, dass p", während man nicht sagen kann "Ich glaube, dass p, aber es ist nicht der Fall, dass p"? Warum gibt es Wege, Methoden und Mittel, um Wissen zu erlangen, zu erlangen oder zu empfangen, aber nicht Glauben (im Gegensatz zum Glauben)? Warum kann man wissen, aber nicht glauben, wer, was, was, wann, ob und wie? Warum kann man glauben, aber nicht wissen, von ganzem Herzen, leidenschaftlich, zögerlich, dumm, gedankenlos, fanatisch, dogmatisch oder vernünftig? Warum kann man etwas genau, gründlich oder im Detail kennen, aber nicht glauben? Und so weiter durch viele hundert ähnliche Fragen, die sich nicht nur auf Wissen und Glauben beziehen, sondernzauch auf Zweifel, Gewissheit, Erinnern, Vergessen, Beobachten, Bemerken, Erinnern,Wahrnehmen, Nehmen, Sein, Bewusstsein, ganz zu schweigen von den zahlreichen Verben der Wahrnehmung und ihren Kognaten. Was geklärt werden muss, wenn diese Fragen beantwortet werden sollen, ist das Netz unserer epistemmischen Konzepte, die Art und Weise, wie die verschiedenen Konzepte zusammenhängen, die verschiedenen Formen ihrer Kompatibilitäten und Inkompatibilitäten, ihr Sinn und Zweck, ihre Voraussetzungen und unterschiedliche Formen der Kontextabhängigkeit. Zu dieser ehrwürdigen Übung in der Verbindensanalyse können wissenschaftliche Erkenntnisse, Psychologie, Neurowissenschaften und selbsternannte Kognitionswissenschaft überhaupt nichts beitragen." (Passing by the naturalistic turn: on Quine es cul-de-sacp15-2005). Natürlichmöchte ichhinzufügen, dass es das Studium unserer entwickelten Psychologie, von DPHOT und die kontextuelle Sensibilität der Sprache (W es Sprachspiele) ist. Es ist nicht trivial, diese Tatsachen zu sagen, da es ziemlich selten ist, jemanden zu finden, der das grosse Ganze erfasst, und selbst die meiner Helden wie Searle, Priest, Pinker, Read, usw. fallen peinlich kurz, wenn sie versuchen, ihre Berufe zu definieren. Es gibt seit, langem Bücher über Atomphysik und physikalische Chemie, aber es gibt keine Anzeichen dafür, dass die beiden verschmelzen werden (noch ist es eine kohärente Idee),noch dass die Chemie die Biochemie absorbieren wird oder dass sie wiederum Physiologie oder Genetik absorbieren wird, noch dass die Biologie verschwinden wird oder dass sie Psychologie, Soziologie usw. beseitigen wird. Dies ist nicht auf die "Jugend" dieser Disziplinen zurückzuführen, sondern auf die Tatsache, dass es sich um unterschiedliche Beschreibungsebenen mit völlig unterschiedlichen Konzepten, Daten und Erklärungsmechanismen handelt. Aber der Neid der Physik istmächtig, und wir können der "Präzision" von Physik, Mathematik, Information und Berechnung im Vergleich zur"Unbestimmtheit"' höherer Ebenen einfach nicht ' widerstehen. Es "muss" möglich sein. Reduktionismus gedeiht trotz der Unverständlichkeit (mangelnde Anwendung auf unsere normale Skala von Raum, Zeit und Leben) von Quantenmechanik, Unsicherheit, Welle/Teilchen, lebende/tote Katzen, Quantenverflechtung und die Unvollständigkeit und algorithmische Zufälligkeit der Mathematik (Godel/Chaitin – siehe meine Rezension von Yanofskys 'The Outer Limits of Reason') und seine unwiderstehliche Pull es ist darauf zurückzuführen. Auch hier, ein Hauch dringend benötigter frischer Luft von W: "Denn die kristalline Reinheit der Logik war natürlich kein Ergebnis der Untersuchung: es war eine Voraussetzung." PI p107. Und wieder W aus dem Blauen Buch- "Philosophen sehen ständig die Methode der Wissenschaft vor ihren Augen und sind unwiderstehlich versucht, zu fragen und zu antworten, wie es die Wissenschaft tut. Diese Tendenz ist die wahre Quelle der Metaphysik und führt den Philosophen in die völlige Dunkelheit." Es ist schwer zu widerstehen, die meisten Bücher über Verhalten zu werfen und W und S neu zu lesen. Springen Sie einfach von allem auf z.B. diese Zitate aus seinem PI http://topologicalmedialab.net/xinwei/classes/readings/Wittgenstein/pi_94138_239-309.html. Ich schlage vor, die Frage des Geistes im Wesentlichen als die gleiche wie alle "tiefen" philosophischen Fragen zu betrachten. Wir wollen die von S1 wahrgenommene "Realität" verstehen, aber S2 ist nicht dafür programmiert. Es ist alles (oder meistens) in den unbewussten Machenschaften von S1 über DNA. Wir wissen es nicht, aber unsere DNA ist mit freundlicher Genehmigung des Todes von Billionen von Organismen über etwa 3 Milliarden Jahre. Alsokämpfen wir mit der, Wissenschaft und beschreiben immer so langsam die Mechanismen des Geistes (d.h. des Gehirns), wissend, dass selbst wenn wir zu einem "vollständigen" Wissen über das Gehirn kommen sollten, wir nur eine Beschreibung haben würden, was genau neuronales Muster dem Sehen von Rot oder der Entscheidung und einer "Erklärung" entspricht, warum es nicht möglich (nicht verständlich) ist. Es ist für mich nach der Lektüre Zehntausende von Seiten der Philosophie offensichtlich, dass der Versuch, eine höhere beschreibende Psychologie dieser Art zu tun, wo gewöhnliche Sprache sich in spezielle Anwendungenverwandelt, sowohl absichtlich als auch unbeabsichtigt, im Wesentlichen unmöglich ist (d.h. die normale Situation in der Philosophie und anderen Verhaltensdisziplinen). Die Verwendung spezieller Jargonwörter (z. B. Intensionalität, Realismus usw.) funktioniert auch nicht, da es keine Philosophiepolizei gibt, um eine enge Definition durchzusetzen, und die Argumente, was sie bedeuten, sind endlos. Hacker ist gut, aber sein Schreiben so kostbar und dicht, dass es oft schmerzhaft ist. Searle ist sehr gut, erfordert aber einige Anstrengungen, um seine Terminologie anzunehmen, und ich glaube, dass er ein paar grosse Fehler macht, während W die klarsten und aufschlussreichsten Hände hat, sobald man begreift, was er tut, und niemand jemals in der Lage war, ihm nachzueifern. Seine TLP bleibt die ultimative Aussage der mechanischen reduktionistischen Sicht des Lebens, aber er sah später seinen Fehler und diagnostizierte und heilte die "Cartoon-Krankheit", aber nur wenige bekommen den Punkt und ignorieren ihn und die Biologie einfach, und so gibt es Zehntausende von Büchern und Millionen von Artikeln und die meisten religiösen und politischen Organisationen (und bis vor kurzem die meisten der Wirtschaft) und fast alle Menschen mit Cartoon Ansichten des Lebens. Aber die Welt ist keine Karikatur, also wird eine grosse Tragödie gespielt, da die Karikaturenansichten des Lebens mit der Realität kollidieren und universelle Blindheit und Egoismus den Zusammenbruch der Zivilisation in den nächsten zwei Jahrhunderten (oder weniger) herbeiführen. Ich zögere, C es Schriften jedem zu empfehlen, da die Erfahrenen ungefähr die gleiche Perspektive haben sollten, die ich habe, und die Naiven werden ihre Zeit verschwenden. Lesen Sie entweder Philosophie oder Kognitionswissenschaft und vermeiden Sie die Amalgame. Unter den endlosen Büchern und Artikeln, die verfügbar sind, empfehle ich die 3 Bände über die menschliche Natur, herausgegeben von Carruthers(ja, das gleiche), die 3 über die menschliche Natur, geschrieben von Hacker, das Handbuch der evolutionären Psychologie2nd Ed, und meineRezensionen von W/S, Hutto, DMS, Hacker et al. und dieir original bücher. Abschliessend schlage ich vor, dass, wenn wir Ws Gleichung von Sprache und Geist akzeptieren und das "Geist-Körper-Problem" als das "Sprach-/Körperproblem" betrachten, es dazu beitragen kann, sein therapeutisches Ziel zu erreichen.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Review of: J. P. Moreland (ed.) The Creation Hypothesis Downers Grove, Ill: InterVarsity Press This book is an interesting addition to the anti–evolution literature. (For a nice survey of this literature up until 1992, see Tom McIvor's Anti–Evolution: A Reader's Guide to Writings Before and After Darwin Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1992.) I shall provide a fairly detailed examination of it here, divided into sections according to the table of contents. Those who don't wish to read the whole review should skip to the bits in which they are most interested. Those who only want a final verdict should skip to my concluding remarks. The discussion of Moreland's introduction is particularly long, because this is where most of the philosophically interesting material is contained; some readers may just want to skip this bit. Here is the table of contents for the book: Foreward, by Phillip E. Johnson Preface Introduction, by J. P. Moreland PART 1: CREATION, DESIGN AND PHILOSOPHY OF SCIENCE 1. Theistic Science and Methodological Naturalism, by J. P. Moreland 2. The Methodological Equivalence of Design and Descent, by Stephen C. Meyer 3. On the Very Possibility of Intelligent Design, by William A. Dembski PART 2: CREATION, DESIGN AND SCIENTIFIC EVIDENCE 4. Astronomical Evidences for a Personal, Transcendent God, by Hugh Ross 5. Information and the Origin of Life, by Walter L. Bradley and Charles B. Thaxton 6. The Origin of Life's Major Groups, by Kurt P. Wise 7. Origin of the Human Language Capacity: In whose Image?, by John W. Oller, Jr. and John L. Omdahl Appendix: Rational Inquiry and the Force of Scientific Data-Are New Horizons Emerging?, by John Ankerberg and John Weldon There is a list-at pp.333–5-which provides information about the contributors to the book, including their academic credentials, and their current occupations: John Ankerberg is a Christian Television show host. Walter L. Bradley is professor and head of the department of mechanical engineering at Texas A&M University. He has written many journal articles, mostly in materials science. William A. Demski has a Ph.D in mathematics from University of Chicago, and a Ph.D in philosophy, from University of Illinois, Chicago. He has written many articles on topics in mathematics, physics, computer science, and philosophy. 1 Phillip E. Johnson is a well–known professor of law at University of California, Berkeley. Stephen C. Meyer is professor of philosophy at Whitworth College. He has a Ph.D. from Cambridge in history and philosophy of science. He has written a number of journal articles, mostly about the structure of evolutionary arguments and the methodology of historical sciences. J. P. Moreland is professor of philosophy at Talbot School of Theology, Biola University. He has a Ph.D in philosophy from University of Southern California. He has written many books and journal articles, mostly concerned in some way with philosophy of religion. John W. Oller Jr. is professor of linguistics and educational foundations at the University of New Mexico. He has a Ph.D in linguistics from the University of Rochester, New York. He has written numerous books and articles about linguistics. John Omdahl is a professor of biochemistry at the University of New Mexico School of Medicine. He has a Ph.D in physiology and biophysics from the University of Kentucky. Hugh Ross has a Ph.D in astronomy from the University of Toronto. He has his own 'research institute', and is the author of some well–known books (including The Fingerprint of God). Charles Thaxton has a Ph.D in chemistry from Iowa State University. He has authored a couple of books contesting orthodox theories of evolution. John Weldon has written many books on religious topics; he is a 'researcher' for the John Ankerberg show. Kurt P. Wise teaches science at Bryan College, Tennessee. He has a Ph.D in paleontology from Harvard. Clearly, most of these people have serious academic credentials; and they are qualified to talk about the topics which they discuss. One might expect that this book is better than run–of-the-mill attacks on evolutionary theory; and, at least in some respects, this expectation is justified. Before I discuss the relative merits of the book, I shall give a fairly detailed examination of each of the individual contributions in turn. Introduction, by J. P. Moreland Moreland's introduction divides into five parts: (i) some introductory remarks; (ii) a critique of a view which he calls 'scientism'; (iii) a discussion of two well–known arguments for the existence of God, the kalam cosmological argument and the argument for design; (iv) some brief remarks about a view which he calls 'naturalism'; and (v) some comments on the material in the rest of the book. (i) Introduction: Moreland considers various views which one might take about the relationship between theology and science (on the assumption that theology is to be taken seriously). The view which he defends he calls 'theistic science': this is the view that theological propositions can and ought to 'enter into the very fabric of science and the utilisation of scientific methodology' (13). In particular, 'theistic science' is premised on the assumption that God designed and created the world for a purpose, and that God has 2 directly intervened in the course of the development of the world at various times, including times prior to the arrival of human beings. According to Moreland, 'theistic science' constitutes a scientific research program which has an important contribution to make to 'the evolution–creation controversy' (though it is not affiliated with any particular varitey of creationism-young earth creationism, progressive creationism, etc.). In justifying 'theistic science', Moreland claims that theists ought to 'consult all that they know or have reason to believe in forming and testing hypotheses, explaining things in science and evaluating the plausibility of various scientific hypotheses' (12). I take it that this claim is clearly right: what you have reason to believe depends upon what else you believe (or, perhaps, what else you have reason to believe). However, this claim offers no support at all for the idea that theological propositions can and ought to enter into the very fabric of science and the utilisation of scientific methodology. It is one question how one ought to assess scientific claims; it is quite another how one is to demarcate scientific claims from non–scientific claims. Perhaps Moreland is right to suppose that one could reasonably believe both that Genesis is not consistent with 'theistic evolution' (i.e. the claim that theological propositions are consistent with, but quite independent of, scientific theories of evolution), and that this is a reason for rejecting scientific accounts of evolution. But it does not follow-at least not without further argument-that the replacement views which are accepted are scientific. Since Moreland offers no demarcation principle, it is hard to discuss this matter further (though it is worth noting that the absence of a principle of demarcation affects his critique of 'scientism', to which we now turn). (ii) Critique of 'scientism': Moreland distinguishes two kinds of 'scientism' which he claims would defeat out of hand the claim that there can be a 'theistic science'. 'Strong scientism' holds that no proposition can be reasonably believed unless it has been formed, successfully tested, and used according to appropriate scientific methodology. 'Weak scientism' holds that science is the most valuable, most serious and most authoritative sector of human learning. (See p.15. When Moreland goes on to claim that, according to 'weak scientism', beliefs are rationally acceptable only insofar as they can be given scientific support, he seems to obliterate any distinction between 'strong scientism' and 'weak scientism'.) Against 'scientism', Moreland urges: (i) that 'strong scientism' is self–refuting (since it is not a proposition which has been formed, successfully tested, and used according to appropriate scientific methodology); (ii) that 'scientism' (in either form) rules out the possibility of stating and defending necessary presuppositions of science; and (iii) that 'scientism' (in either form) is inconsistent with the evident truth that there are true rationally justified beliefs in many non–scientific domains. Since Moreland hasn't told us what counts as science, it is hard to assess his arguments against 'scientism' (and also hard to know what he takes this position to be). However, it does seem that his case against 'weak scientism' cannot be very strong: after all, it is surely consistent with the idea that science makes philosophical presuppositions that science provides the most valuable, most serious, and most authoritative sector of human 3 learning, and that there are true rationally justified beliefs in many non–scientific domains. (Moreland claims that, because science rests on philosophical assumptions, philosophy is a stronger candidate to be 'the paradigm of rationality'. But, since no view can be free of assumptions, it seems that what we have here is better seen as an argument for the view that there is no paradigm of rationality! Moreover, there is no inconsistency in the view that science is more valuable, more serious and more authoritative than philosophy, even if interpretations of scientific theories do 'rest' on philosophical assumptions-for those assumptions may be comparatively trivial, or they may be hotly contested in ways in which fundamental scientific claims are not. And it is also not clear that science does rely upon philosophical presuppositions; it is a commonplace that scientific theories admit of a variety of realist interpretations from a range of philosophical standpoints.) I take it that there is a way of understanding 'scientism' on which it turns out to be true, but not inconsistent with 'theistic science'. The idea is that scientific method is simply a continuation of ordinary methods of belief revision: what it is reasonable to believe is the simplest, most powerful, most explanatory theory which coheres with all observations (actual and predicted); and it is only reasonable to revise one's beliefs if one thereby obtains some overall improvement in one's system of beliefs (measured in terms of an appropriate weighting of these desiderata). Of course, this hardly constitutes even the beginnings of an account of scientific method-but, if something along these lines is right, then it seems plausible to think that 'scientism' is not obviously inconsistent with 'theistic science'. (And surely this is a desirable result for Moreland. After all, why is he so keen to call his view 'theistic science'?) Of course, one might want to take a less concessive line here, to preserve a special sense for 'scientific method' as opposed to 'rational method'. So, for instance, one might think that 'theistic science' is bound not to allow certain propositions-e.g. the claim that Genesis is the word of God-to confront the tribunal of experience in the way which we require of all genuinely scientific propositions. (Would a proper scientific examination- drawing upon recent work in textual analysis, comparative literature, other historical sciences, and so on-support the claim that Genesis is the word of God?) Or one might think that the claim that Genesis is the word of God could not obtain-nor merit-the kind of independent concensus which is required for anything which deserves to be called a 'scientific claim'. However, the prospects for these kinds of lines of argument depend upon, among other things, the principle of demarcation which is chosen-so there seems to be little point in pursuing these lines of thought in the present context. (As I said above, Moreland's critique of 'scientism' and his defence of 'theistic science' are useless until he tells us: (i) what he means by 'science' and (ii) how he means us to distinguish between 'science' and 'non–science'. As things stand, his critique is clearly vitiated by slides between thinking of science as a sum of subject matters and thinking of science as the application of a particular kind of methodology.) (iii) Two arguments for the existence of God: Moreland claims that there are two arguments for the existence of God which are 'strongly supported' by recent scientific discoveries' (18): the kalam cosmological argument and the cosmic fine–tuning argument 4 for design. Moreland offers a brief discussion of each, including replies to some objections (the clear implication being that these are the most important objections to these arguments). I shall consider his comments on these arguments in turn: (1) Kalam cosmological argument: Moreland doesn't exactly tell us what the kalam cosmological argument is supposed to be. What he does say is that it relies upon establishing the following three premises: 1. The universe had a beginning 2. The beginning of the universe was caused. 3. The cause of the beginning of the universe was personal. I take it that it is quite obvious that it does not follow deductively from these three premises alone that God exists (it could be, for example, that the personal creator of the universe is perfectly evil rather than perfectly good). Moreover, I take it that it is far from clear that the existence of God follows as an inference to the best explanation-i.e. as an inductive inference-from these three premises. However, even if this suffices to show that the kalam cosmological argument fails as an argument for the existence of God, these premises would suffice to establish things which non–theists should want to deny. So there is reason to consider the arguments which Moreland offers on behalf of these premises. On behalf of premise (1), Moreland offers the claim that its truth is established by a philosophical argument from the premise that it is 'impossible to cross or traverse an actual infinite number of events one at a time'. His argument for (1) then proceeds as follows: 'If the universe had no beginning, then the number of events crossed to reach the present moment would be actually infinite. But since one cannot cross an actual infinite, the present moment could never have arrived if the universe were beginningless. Since the present is real, it was only preceded by a finite past, and there was a beginning or first event.' (19) As Moreland notes (more or less), one important objection to this argument for (1) is that it surreptitiously introduces the idea that a beginningless universe is a universe with a beginning time T which is infinitely far away, and from which the present time must be reached. Even if it is true that 'an actual infinite cannot be traversed one step at a time', it is a mistake to think that a beginningless universe requires the traversal of an actual infinite one step at a time-for the concepts of 'traversal' and 'cross' require a setting out point and a finishing point, but there is no setting out point in the case of a beginingless universe. Moreland claims that this reply is a 'gross misunderstanding' of the argument for (1): the point is that an infinite past would have the same structure as 'counting from negative infinity to zero', something which is clearly impossible. I think that it is not obvious that it is impossible for there to be physical instantiations of the structure of 'counting from negative infinity to zero'. More strongly, I think that, on the most plausible interpretations of cosmological models in general relativity, it turns out that the physical universe instantiates something like the structure of 'counting from 5 negative infinity to zero' even though the universe is finite in the past! Cosmological models in general relativity are always based on spatio–temporal manifolds which are open in the past, so that time has the structure of an open interval in the real numbers. The important conceptual point here is that time can have the crucial feature of the structure of 'counting from negative infinity to zero'-namely, that there is no first moment of time-even if time is finite in the past. (In Big Bang models, the initial singularity is always an ideal point which does not belong to the spatio–temporal manifold.) In the present context, the crucial point is that Moreland's claim about the impossibility of a beginningless universe is clearly question–begging: his argument gives no reason at all why the universe could not be a finite but open spatio–temporal manifold (hence, no reason at all why the universe could not be beginningless even if time is finite in the past). (There may be assumptions about the nature of time which are relevant to this debate. If one adopts a 'four–dimensionalist' analysis, according to which there is a four– dimensional spatio-temporal manifold, all of the points of which exist, then it is hard to see why one could not suppose that this manifold is open (and hence why one could not suppose that the universe is both finite in the past and beginningless). However, if one adopts a 'three-dimensionalist', according to which only the present exists, and according to which time 'flows' from the past to the future, then it may be that the idea that the universe is both finite in the past and beginningless is more problematic. It seems to me that one could be a 'three-dimensionalist' and nonetheless hold that the universe is both finite in the past and beginningless-but perhaps there is room for disagreement about this matter. It should also be noted that my discussion assumes that time is dense; if time were discrete, then it would not be possible for the past to be finite and yet open. This assumption is certainly contestable-but it is worth noting that all standard physical theories assume that time is continuous.) Apart from the question–begging a priori defence of (1), Moreland also claims that premise (1) is supported by science, in particular, by the Big Bang theory and the second law of thermodynamics. I have already argued that the first part of this claim is mistaken. For the purposes of the kalam cosmological argument, (1) has to be understood to be the claim that there is a first moment at which the universe exists. The Big Bang theory, in all its standard formulations, is actually inconsistent with this claim: for, while the Big Bang theory says that the universe is finite in the past, it also says that the universe is open in the past-the 'initial Big Bang singularity' is no part of the universe. More cautiously, the crucial point is that it is not enough to find arguments from science for the claim that the universe is finite in the past: one needs to find arguments from science for the claim that there is a first moment at which the universe exists. Since Big Bang cosmology does not furnish such arguments, Big Bang cosmology does not support the kalam cosmological argument. Moreland's argument from the second law of thermodynamics is also controversial. Moreland claims that if the universe had existed through an actually infinite past, then it would have reached an equilibrium state an infinite number of days ago. Since the universe is not in an equilibrium state now, we can conclude that the universe had not existed through an actually infinite past. Several points should be made in reply: First-as noted above-the crucial point is whether the 6 universe is open in the past: if the universe is temporally finite but open in the past, then there is no obvious reason why it should have reached an equilibrium state by now. Second, even if we supposed that the universe is infinite in the past, it is not clear that Moreland's claim is correct: in infinite time, one would expect to get some enormously large departures from thermodynamic equilibrium (and anthropic considerations then suggest that we should hardly be surprised to find ourselves in one of these unlikely regions). (Moreland considers, and dismisses, the further reply that the universe is not a thing, and that the laws of thermodynamics only apply to regions of spacetime within the universe. Since I would not wish to press this kind of objection, I shall not discuss these arguments here.) On behalf of premise (2), Moreland claims that it is justified by the claim that every event has a cause, or perhaps by the claim that everything which comes into existence has a cause. (pp.21/2) He says: "It would seem that this principle [that every event has a cause] is quite reasonable. ... In favour of this principle is, arguably, our entire, uniform experience. We simply find the world to be such that events don't pop into existence without causes." (p.21) Ignoring some hard questions about quantum mechanics, it does seem to be the case that we find causes for all events which are properly included in our spatiotemporal universe. However, this 'uniform experience' does nothing at all towards supporting (2). We can divide events into two kinds: those which overlap the entire initial history of the universe, and those which do not. (So the latter kind of event can be located by a time interval which is properly included in the history of the universe: there are times which are earlier than the occurrence of this kind of event.) In the nature of the case, we have no experience of (the early stages of) events of the former kind; hence, our 'entire, uniform experience' does not support that claim that instances of this kind of events have causes (even if it does support that claim that instances of the other kind of events always have causes). Non-theists can grant that Moreland's causal principle is nearly right-all 'non–initial' events have causes (a claim which is supported by our 'entire, uniform experience)-while nonetheless holding that premise (2) of his kalam cosmological argument is entirely without foundation. Perhaps it is worth noting that non–theists do not need to disagree with Moreland that things don't 'pop into existence' without causes (unless quantum mechanics tells us otherwise). Certainly, talk about things 'popping into existence' suggests the following picture: there is a domain or venue or location in which certain things do not exist and then without cause certain things 'pop into' existence in that domain or venue or location. But that it not-or, at any rate, ought not to be-the way that non–theists think about the origins of the universe. There is no domain or venue or location in which the universe is located. The universe did not 'pop into' existence-caused or uncaused-and there is no space, time, or spacetime which is 'external' to the universe. (Perhaps one might claim that to say that the universe 'popped into existence' is to say no more than that the universe has no cause. But, of course, in that unobjectionable sense, it will also be the case that theists are committed to the claim that God popped into existence-and so it can hardly be that theists are committed to the claim that things do not pop into existence. Since no sensible non–theists hold that the universe 'popped into existence' in any other 7 objectionable sense, it is plainly time that proponents of kalam cosmological arguments stopped foisting this claim on their opponents.) Moreland also writes: "The question 'What or who made God?' is a pointless category fallacy. ... The question 'What made X?' can only be asked of Xs that are by definition makeable. But God, if he exists at all, is a necessary being, the uncreated creator of all else. This definition is what theists mean by 'God', even if it turns out that no God exists." (22) Perhaps Moreland is right that theists typically suppose that God is a necessary being, 'the uncreated creator of all else'. But, if we are thinking about the origins of our universe, then-as Moreland suggests elsewhere-we shouldn't rule out hypotheses simply by definitional fiat. Yet, it seems to be logically possible that our universe was created by a person who is neither necessary nor the uncreated creator of all else. (Here's a possible example. Suppose that, in some other universe, some physicists are playing around with a very powerful particle accelerator. By accident, they create a kind of wormhole in spacetime-a singularity-and that our universe emerges from the 'other end' of the wormhole. In that case, our universe will have a personal cause-but the persons in question will be limited, finite beings. Perhaps as I have stated it, this story is not quite coherent (or consistent with physics)-but I don't see that there is any in principle objection to the idea that some stories of this kind are logically consistent.) The important point here is that, if we are going to treat the hypothesis that the world was made by God as a scientific hypothesis, then we need to give fair and equal treatment to competing hypotheses. As Hume pointed out long ago, there seem to be countless alternative hypotheses which fit the available evidence about as well as the traditional theistic hypothesis. On behalf of premise (3), Moreland claims that it is justified by the observation that there are two distinct kinds of efficient causation: event–event causation and agent causation. Given that the first event cannot be an instance of event–event causation, it follows that it must be an instance of agent causation-and so, he claims, it follows that the cause of the universe is personal. (p.23) Clearly, this justification is of no use to those who hold that there is no such thing as agent causation, or that the very notion of agent causation is unintelligible. Moreover, I don't see why we should suppose that there can only be one kind of spooky causation above and beyond familiar event–event causation: given that we are going to believe in 'immediate, direct and spontaneous actualisations of causal powers', why shouldn't we suppose that there might be non–personal sources or loci of such powers? Suppose that we set these (important) worries aside. There is still a major difficulty which confronts Moreland's argument. Even if there is a first event in our universe-the region which is spatiotemporally connected to us-it doesn't follow that there is a first contingent event unless we suppose that all contingent events belong to the region which is spatiotemporally connected to us. But why should we suppose this? Naturalists may have a good answer: in their view, there may be no reason to think that there is anything other than our universe (the region which is spatiotemporally connected to us). But, if we are prepared to take seriously the idea that there might be more, then it seems to me that we should be prepared to take seriously the idea that the domain of the contingent may be far more extensive-and, in particular, we should be prepared to take seriously the idea that there is a contingent cause of our universe. But, in 8 that case, Moreland's 'argument' for the personal nature of the first cause of our universe collapses. In sum, then: Moreland's sketch of a kalam cosmological argument is subject to numerous criticisms. First, the premises which he offers are insufficient to justify the conclusion that God exists. Second, it is clear that reasonable non–theists can reasonably reject each of the premises (and it is also clear that some reasonable non–theists will reasonably reject all of them). Third, the first two points stand even if there is good reason to think that science tells us that the world is finite in the past; i.e. it is not the case that Big Bang cosmology provides any support for kalam cosmological arguments. These observations are important because kalam cosmological arguments belong to one of the two kinds of arguments in the book for the claim that there is scientific evidence of an intelligent designer. Given what I have said, it seems perfectly clear that kalam cosmological arguments do not give non–theists the slightest reason to think that there is a personal first cause. (2) Cosmic fine–tuning argument for design: Moreland provides a brief discussion of design arguments in which he emphasises the following points: (1) there are many different kinds of design which can be appealed to in arguments for design (p.24); (2) design arguments gain much of their strength from the details of the cases of alleged design; (3) (roughly) the case for a cumulative argument for design is greatly strengthened by the variety of cases of design; (4) different cases of design may indicate different aspects of God's nature; and (5) arguments for design can take different forms: arguments from analogy; inferences to the best explanation; and Bayesian arguments (pp.25–8). Much of this discussion is unproblematic; I shall focus instead on some of the more contestable claims which Moreland makes. Moreland provides the following sketch of a design argument: "There will always be ordered entities and laws that will be brute, unexplainable givens for science. Now our experience teaches us that, regularly, order .. originated and introduced into the world as the direct result of intelligent persons who act intentionally. Thus, the ultimate ordered entities and laws that exist in the universe must either be taken as brute, unexplainable realities .. or explained with the resources we use every day to explain other examples of order-as the result of an intelligent mind. There is no good reason to leave these examples of order as brute, unexplained realities, and there is good precedent to explain them as the result of a mind." (24) I accept that there are always going to be brute, unexplained entities in any theory. (Perhaps there are never brute, unexplainable entities, because there can never be a completed theory: for any theory, there is another which explains the unexplained entities in the former. In the interests of brevity, I shall set aside this possibility here.) However-following Hume-I insist that this applies just as much to theistic theories as to any others. We have already seen that Moreland insists that we are not allowed to ask 'Who made God?'; and perhaps one might think that we can rule out any other brute and unexplained (and, indeed, unexplainable) givens in theistic theory by similar fiat. But that is not so. Consider, for example, the creative choices of God- e.g. the choice to make certain animals this way rather than that. Assuming that there is no unique best possible world, God had genuine choices for which reason could provide 9 no justification. Suppose that the choice whether to make certain animals this way rather than that is one of these choices. Then it seems fairly clear that, on Moreland's view, there is no possibility of explaining why God chose one way rather than the other: God's choice is, in this insistence, a brute and unexplainable given. Since pretty much any theory is going to have brute and unexplained givens, the important question is whether there is any advantage in trading kinds of brute and unexplained givens by moving from naturalism to supernaturalism. And that plainly depends upon whether there are independent reasons for preferring naturalism to supernaturalism. (Perhaps Moreland might object that, on his view, there will be fewer and less objectionable brute and unexplained givens. However, that seems quite contentious. At the very least, we need to be told more about how to assess and count givens.) There is a related argument which ought to be discussed here. The argument for design attempts to explain the apparent design in the world in terms of the orderly mind of the Designer. But the orderly mind of the Designer is just another instance of apparent design, so the question natually arises: what explains the apparent design in it? If we are told that it is brute and unexplainable, then we should conclude that there is no advantage (in this respect) to be gained by postulating a Designer. If we are told that it is self– explanatory, then we should protest that we have no idea what this means but that, if Designers can be self–explanatory, then it is hard to see why universes should not be so as well. And if we say that there is an explanation in terms of something else, then we seem to have given up a crucial part of the theistic picture. So there is at least prima facie reason to think that it is just a mistake to think that the apparent design in the world can be explained without remainder in terms of intelligent design. (This argument is due, in its essentials, to David Hume. It is much more deserving of attention than the bad anthropic argument discussed below.) In connection with the Bayesian version of the design argument, Moreland notes that the contributors to the book contend that "[T]he likelihood that the type of [apparent] design we find in the world would occur if God did not exist .. is quite low. ... [W]hen one actually examines the scientific evidence for the real design of the world, it becomes much less plausible to believe that the design in this world is the result of chance or some other factor apart from God." We shall have more to say about this contention later; for now, I just want to draw attention to the fact that it is not clear that non–theists are committed to the claim that the apparent design in the world is the result of chance or some other factor apart from God. Non–theists may hold that there is no explanation of the apparent design in the world-no explanation of the laws and boundary conditions for the universe-without accepting the suggestion that they consequently hold that the apparent design in the world is the result of chance. The point here is that, according to this kind of non–theist, the apparent design in the world is not the result of anything; hence, in particular, it is not the result of chance (or any other factor apart from God). It may be true that there are many other possible sets of laws and boundary conditions which would not yield universes in which there is life-but without the assumption that these other possible sets of laws and boundary conditions are equiprobable, one cannot obtain the conclusion that our universe is improbable. And, in the absence of some domain or venue or location within which the universe is to appear, it is hard to see how 10 one can make sense of the idea that possible sets of laws and boundary conditions are equiprobable or that our universe is 'the result of chance'. (Perhaps one might say that, a priori, no universe is more likely than any other-and hence that, a priori, a universe without life is more likely than one with life. Even if this suggestion is not defeated by cardinality considerations-there may well be just as many possible universes which contain life as there are possible universes which do not-it just seems wrong to think that, a priori, no universe is more likely than any other.) I shall have more to say about these kinds of considerations later. Moreland provides some brief discussion of objections to arguments for design. In particular, he considers the bad anthropic argument from the premise that, if the world had been one in which intelligent life could not have arisen then we should not be here to discuss the matter, to the conclusion that we should not be surprised that there is apparent design in the world (and should not think that this apparent design is in any need of explanation). I agree that this is a bad argument. (Moreland seems to think that one can find this kind of argument in Hume. I'm not sure that this is right; in any case, I would want to insist that there are many much better arguments in Hume's Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion.) I also think that very few non–theists have seriously tried to mount this argument; i.e., I think that Moreland is here attacking a strawman. Moreland also considers 'the multiple worlds ensemble' objection to arguments for design. The idea is that the appearance of design will be adequately accounted for if there are numerous domains in which relevant factors vary randomly: while many of these domains will show no appearance of design, some will-and we should not be surprised that we inhabitant one of the domains which does show appearance of design. (Moreland claims that it is part of this view that there are infinitely many worlds, and that every physically possible universe exists. I do not think that either of these claims need be part of 'the multiple worlds' view. Certainly, you don't need either of these claims to get an adequate response to arguments for design.) Against 'the multiple worlds ensemble' objection, Moreland urges: (i) that the view appears to be contrived and made up largely to avoid theistic conclusions; (ii) that one can hardly suppose that there are 'intellectual difficulties' with the notion of a Designer if one supposes that there are 'bizarre entities' such as alternative parallel worlds; and (iii) that there is little or no evidence for these parallel universes while there is additional evidence for the existence of God. (p.30) Against these objections, it should be noted: (a) that some cosmological models require an ensemble of worlds (i.e. it may be that physics provides us with reason to believe in an ensemble of worlds); (b) that it seems to be a matter of taste whether one supposes that a Designer is less bizarre than an ensemble of worlds; and (c) that it is highly controversial that, on balance, there is more evidence that there is a Designer than there is evidence that there is an ensemble of worlds. (Remember, in particular, that while considerations about evil may rule out the existence of God, they cannot rule out the existence of an ensemble of worlds.) It seems to me that Moreland misunderstands the point of the 'multiple worlds ensemble' objection to arguments for design. Typically, the point of the objection is not to try to establish that there is an ensemble of worlds; rather, the point is to suggest that there is no more reason to believe that there is a Designer than there is to believe that there is an ensemble of worlds. If it is true that there is no more reason to 11 believe that there is a Designer than there is to believe that there is an ensemble of worlds, then it must be the case that arguments for design fail. Whether one should believe that there is no explanation of the appearance of design in the world-or whether one should be agnostic about the reason for the appearance of design in the world-is then a further question which we shall not take up here. (Perhaps it is worth noting that one need not agree with Moreland's claim that the worlds of the ensemble are 'bizarre entities' which create at least as many 'intellectual difficulties' as does the postulation of God. After all, the worlds of the ensemble are supposed to be just like the world which we inhabit-governed by the same kinds of laws, and subject to similar boundary conditions-and we know that our world is not logically inconsistent; so we have good reason to think that there will be no logical difficulties involved in the worlds of the ensemble. On the other hand-as is also well known-there are all kinds of logical puzzles involved in the attributes which are typically supposed to be possessed by God: omniscience, omnipotence, omnibenevolence; eternity, and so on. Consequently, there seems to be plenty of room for the view that God is far more bizarre or 'intellectually difficult' than the worlds of the ensemble.) Another objection to design argument which Moreland briefly considers is appeal to the general theory of macroevolution. This objection says that evolutionary theory shows that we have no need of the hypothesis of an intelligent designer. Although we shall have reason to return to this argument when it is discussed in later chapters in the book, it is worth noting that there are many non–theists who will not accept it. While it may be true that evolutionary theory shows that design arguments based on biological data fail-and even this much is controversial-it seems clearly mistaken to think that evolutionary theory shows that design arguments based on cosmological data fail. (Only those like Smolin, who think that the domain of explanation of evolutionary theory is much wider than is commonly supposed, can have good reason to reject this claim.) At any rate, it seems to me that non–theists ought not to put very much emphasis on this objection. (Moreland briefly notes three responses to the criticism from evolutionary theory, the first of which is the one just given. The other response which he favours is to criticise evolutionary theory, and to provide a creationist alternative to it. The response which he does not like is to accept that evolutionary theory provides some kind of explanation of biological design, but to insist that this explanation of how God designed the world does not remove the need for a Designer. Moreland claims that this response is inconsistent with the early chapters of Genesis and with the empirical facts of science. It seems to me to be incredible to think that a literal interpretation of the early chapters of Genesis might be taken to provide a serious contraint on reasonable theorising about the appearance of biological design; however, the charge of conflict with the empirical facts of science is a serious one which at least merits considered rebuttal.) A final objection which Moreland considers to arguments for design is the suggestion that inefficiencies in the apparent design of the world suggest that the world is not the product of intelligent design (or, at least, that the world is not the product of an omniscient and omnipotent God). In reply to this objection, Moreland makes four points: (i) given our limited knowledge of the complexity of living organisms, we might deny that there are any such inefficiencies; (ii) the concept of 'efficiency' might be the wrong 12 one to apply when assessing God's design; (iii) God is not subject to limitation of resources, so it is unclear why we should expect God to be efficient; and (iv) this objection makes it clear that the model of God as Designer does have empirically testable consequences (and hence that the model is scientific). The second and third of Moreland's points seems questionable: given that God is supposed to be perfect- omniscient, omnipotent, and so on-there is reason to think that God will make the best of all possible worlds (or, if that is logically impossible, at least that God will make a very very good world). But isn't there reason to think that there will be no such inefficiencies in a very very good world? Moreover, the first and the fourth points seem to tell against each other: if you are allowed to protect the claim that there are inefficiencies by appeal to our limited knowledge, then it seem doubtful that the claim that the model of God as Designer really does have testable consequences. At the very least, there is room for suspicion that, no matter what apparent inefficiencies might be pointed to by non–theists, Moreland's theists will reply that it is only our limited knowledge which makes it seem that there are inefficiencies. And, in that case, it seems that there is no empirical test of the model of God as Designer here. (There is much more to say about this kind of objection. Note, in particular, that it can be connected to the problem of evil. Does the apparent evidence of design really support the claim that the world was designed by an all-wise, all–powerful and perfectly good being? Aren't the amounts and kinds of evils which we find in the world at least prima facie evidence that, if there is an all–wise and all–powerful designer, then that designer is much less than perfectly good? And so on. It would take us too far afield to try to give proper consideration to these issues here.) In sum: Moreland's brief discussion of arguments for design provides no reason at all to think that non–theists should find these arguments compelling. First, the data cannot be strong enough to decide between all kinds of supernatural hypotheses (including hypotheses on which there is almost no intelligence involved). Second, and relatedly, the data cannot be strong enough to establish the attributes which are traditionally ascribed to God (omnsicience, omnipotence, omnibenevolence, etc.). Third, there are alternative non–supernatural hypotheses-e.g. the hypothesis of the ensemble of worlds-which seem to explain the data equally well and which seem to be no worse than the hypothesis of traditional theism; consequently, it seems that there is no good reason to believe the hypothesis of traditional theism. Fourth, it is quite unclear whether there is any reason to think that those things which science takes to be brute unexplained realities are anything other than brute unexplained realities. In particular, it seems that there are bound to be brute unexplained realities on any theory, including the theories of 'theistic science'. (Moreover, it is unclear whether there is any good reason to say that our universe is 'the result of chance'.) Since the 'philosophical' case against design arguments is very strong, there is no reason to think that 'scientific' assessment of apparent evidence of design will provide any support for the claim that God (or any other supernatural agent) exists. (iv) Remarks about 'naturalism: Moreland claims that his discussion of kalam and design arguments establishes that '[b]efore we even begin to investigate the scientific details of the universe in which we 13 live, we already have reason to reject philosophical naturalism (the view that the space– time material universe is all there is)'. (33) I take it that the above discussion shows that this is clearly not so: the kalam and design arguments fail, so they do not provide reasons to reject anything. (Perhaps it is worth noting that many non–theists will not be inclined to accept philosophical naturalism, at least as it is characterised by Moreland. Many non– theists hold that there are all kinds of abstract entities-numbers, propositions, universals, etc.-which are no part of 'the spacetime material universe'. It would be better to characterise philosophical naturalism in terms of what is says there are not. According to philosophical naturalism, there are no supernatural entities: no ghosts, no spooks, no gods, no Cartesian souls, etc.) Moreland goes on to claim that we also have reason to reject methodological naturalism: his reasons for this are given in Chapter 1 (which we shall soon discuss). It is worth noting here that if philosophical naturalism can be sustained, then methodological naturalism follows immediately: there is no point in abandoning a naturalistic viewpoint if there are no supernatural entities! So Moreland's discussion of kalam and design arguments is clearly important: given that those arguments do fail, then I take it that the onus is on him to find other arguments which ought to persuade non–theists to give up their philosophical and methodological natualism. Moreland notes: 'A major theme of this book is that certain scientific factors-such as the origin and fine–tuning of the universe, the origin of life and information systems, the origin of major taxonomic groups, and the origin of human language and linguistic abilities-help to confirm the kalam cosmological argument and the design argument for God's existence.' (33) He then goes on to say that he has 'looked at some background issues that are involved in assessing this claim'. I have spent a lot of time examining Moreland's 'look' at the background issues because what he says is crucial to the rest of the book. If-as I have suggested-there is not the slightest reason to think that there are 'scientific factors' which lend credence to kalam and design arguments, then the material in the rest of the book cannot play the role for which it is intended. While it may well be that this material points to difficulties and unclarities in current science, there is no reason (yet) to think that it provides any reason at all to move towards 'theistic science'. Theistic Science and Methodological Naturalism, by J.P. Moreland Moreland's discussion has three main parts. First, there is a characterisation and critique of a view which Moreland calls 'methodological naturalism'. Second, there is a characterisation of a view which Moreland calls 'theistic science'. And third there is a discussion of some criticisms which might be made of the view which Moreland calls 'theistic science'. I shall consider each of these parts in turn. (i) Methodological naturalism: Much of Moreland's critique of 'methodological naturalism' focusses on a view which is defended by the Christian scholars Paul de Vries and Howard J. van Till. According to Moreland, de Vries and van Till are committed to the following claims: (i) the goal of natural science is to explain contingent phenomena in terms of other contingent natural phenomena (46); (ii) natural science has nothing to say about the existence of God, because the domain of the supernatural simply lies outside 14 the scope of natural science (46); (iii) it is a matter of conceptual necessity that natural science has the features mentioned in (i) and (ii) (43). Moreland has a range of objections to (i)–(iii). For example, against (i), he notes that many scientific explanations advert to ostensibly non–contingent entities (in particular, numbers and mathematical structures). Against (ii), he urges that this kind of claim relies upon discredited demarcation arguments which seek to draw boundaries between the scientific and the non–scientific. (These arguments are taken up by Meyer in the subsequent chapter.) And against (iii), he urges that many less–than–fully realist interpretations of science would be ruled out a priori if it were true. (Moreland has much more to say; but there is no need to repeat it.) I doubt that there is much which needs to be said here. Moreland is surely right to think that, if you believe that there is a supernatural domain which has influences on and is influenced by those natural entities which belong to our spatiotemporal universe, then it is just a mistake to insist the the behaviour of those natural entities can be satisfactorily explained without reference to the supernatural. (Why restrict the word 'science' to those explanations of the behaviour of natural entities which do not advert to the supernatural?) However, it seems to me that it is just wrong to think that contemporary science is based on a dogma-'methodological naturalism'-which rules out appeal to supernatural entities a priori. Rather, the truth is that contemporary science is merely committed to the principle that supernatural entities need to pay their way-and that the history and success of science provides no reason at all to think that supernatural entities can pay their way. On the one hand, the history of science is, in part, a history of liberation from explanations involving supernatural entities-one domain after another has been shown to be able to do without them. On the other hand, the extraordinary success of the scientific enterprise-all done without any recourse to the supernatural-suggests that science can get along just fine without it. The commitment to 'methodological naturalism' which one finds in natural science is an a posteriori commitment, based on the apparent absence of any need to appeal to supernatural entities. Of course, given that the commitment is a posteriori, it would be inconsistent to appeal to a principle of 'methodological naturalism' to rule out 'theistic science' on a priori grounds. However, I doubt that many of those who ridicule the notion of 'theistic science' really think that it can be ruled out on a priori grounds. Rather, what they think is that the history and success of science provides very good reasons for holding that the prior probability that we might need a 'theistic science' is extraordinarily low. ('Theistic science' belongs with astrology and phrenology and scientology and ...; endeavours which have been discredited by the history and success of non–supernatural science.) Given that Moreland and his co–contributors disagree, their task is to show that we do need 'theistic science'-and, indeed, this is what they try to do in the second part of the book. If their enterprise were to bear fruit, then I have no doubt that we would all hear about it. (Part of the point here is that it seems very doubtful that there is any kind of 'conspiracy' against 'theistic science'. All that creationists need to do is to provide decent reasons for taking 'theistic science' seriously. To date, there is, I think, no doubt that they have failed to do this. More about this in my concluding remarks.) 15 (ii) 'Theistic science': Exactly what 'theistic science' is supposed to turn out to be is not exactly clear. Moreland characterises it in terms of a commitment to the following two principles: (1) God created and designed the world for a purpose and has directly intervened in the course of its development at various times; (2) the commitment expressed in (1) can appropriately enter into the very fabric of the practice of science and the utilisation of scientific methodology (41/2). I take it that what he has in mind is that God and God's creative acts can feature amongst the entities which are adverted to in good scientific explanations of contingent natural phenomena. (What this has to do with 'the very fabric of the practice of science' and 'the utilisation of scientific methodology' is, at best, rather unclear.) These claims for 'theistic science' are quite strong-and seem to go far beyond anything that is really argued for in the rest of the book. Moreland makes it fairly clear that, by 'God', he means the God of Genesis, etc.-and that he means to be taken to be suggesting that the Bible can be taken to be a literal account of the origins, history and governance of the world. But, of course, if this is what 'theistic science' is to be then these claims are subject to the same strictures as any other scientific claims. Does the evidence-from comparative literature, history, etc.-really bear out the claim that the Bible is the word of God? Does philosophical examination really bear out the claim that the notion of an omnipotent, omniscient, eternal, etc. creator of the world is so much as coherent or logically consistent? Does philosophical investigation really bear out the claim that there are satisfactory answers to the problems of evil, divine foreknowledge, divine freedom, the doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation, and so on? Does the alleged evidence from cosmology and biology really suppport the claim that the universe and living species were designed and created by an omnipotent, omniscient, eternal, etc. being? Perhaps unsurprisingly, when the book turns to look at the evidence from cosmology and biology, the claims which are alleged to be supported by the evidence are far more modest: e.g., that there is evidence of design by some kind of intelligence; and that there is evidence of creation by some kind of supernatural entity. If 'theistic science'-or perhaps better 'deistic science'-were the view that supernatural creators and designers can feature amongst the entities which are adverted to in good scientific explanations of contingent natural phenomena, then there might be some reason to think that there is argument for it contained in the rest of the book. As things stand, its hard to resist the conclusion that 'theistic science' remains entirely without serious support. (iii) Objections to the very idea of 'theistic science': Moreland considers three objections to 'theistic science': (i) that 'theistic science' relies upon a disastrous 'God– in–the–gaps' strategy; (ii) that the supernatural entities involved in 'theistic science' are unobservable in principle; and (iii) that 'theistic science' is not a fruitful research programme. Moreland has fairly lengthy replies to each of these objections, the details of which I will pass over. It seems to me to be clear that there is no a priori reason to think that 'deistic science' is ruled out: it might be, for example, that there is an inference from the available evidence to the existence of intelligent design. If that is right, then objections (i)–(iii) seem to be beside the point. The crucial question will be whether there 16 actually is a decent inference from the available evidence to the existence of intelligent design. In sum, then: I am inclined to grant the main substance of Moreland's arguments. 'Deistic science' is not ruled out on a priori grounds (and, in particular, it is not ruled out by 'methodological naturalism'). However-as I have argued above-it is important to see that it does not follow from this concession that there is reason to take 'deistic science' seriously. For what matters is the strength of the case which can be made for 'deistic science'. So far as I can see, that case remains extremely weak. The Methodological Equivalence of Design and Descent, by Stephen C. Meyer The main thrust of Meyer's argument is fairly straightforward. Following Larry Lauden, he claims that the problem of providing criteria which demarcate the scientific from the non–scientific have proven intractable. Consequently, attempts to use demarcation arguments against the hypothesis of intelligent design also fail. When we examine the demarcation arguments which have actually been used to support that claim that creationist theories are not scientific, we find either: (i) that they must classify evolutionary theories and design theories in the same way (hence 'the methodological equivalence of design and descent'); or (ii) that the arguments are grossly question– begging (because they build in the requirement that scientific theories must not advert to supernatural entities). I'm not sure that there is much to argue with here. The important claim which non–theists want to make is that there are no supernatural entities; whether the postulation of supernatural entities can be scientific seems rather unimportant by comparison. Having said this, I'm not sure that the case against demarcation arguments can be quite as strong as Meyer supposes. After all, there are some intellectual activities which do not count as 'science' in any ordinary sense of that term-e.g. literary criticism, studying the history of the AFL, and so on. So there is a boundary between the scientific and the non– scientific, even if we are not sure how to say where it is. Still, there doesn't seem to be any reason to think that, if we could figure out how to say where this boundary lies, it is bound to be the case that creationist theories would lie on the non–science side. (Note, by the way, that there is also a distinction between good science and bad science. Conceding the point about demarcation arguments does not mean that one cannot insist that creationist theories are bad science. If there are no supernatural entities, then it seems plausible to think that good scientific theories will not refer to them!) One important point to note is that the introduction-by Moreland-seems to rely on the assumption that there is a strict demarcation between science and non–science, because it relies on the assumption that there is a strict demarcation between science and philosophy (and theology). If Meyer is right that demarcation principles are doomed, then I do not see how one could hope to hang on to the claim that there is a strict demarcation between science and philosophy. Consequently, it seems to me that Meyer's arguments undermines much of the attack on 'scientism' which Moreland mounts there. (Surely this is to be expected. If there is no way to distinguish science from non–science-if all 17 intellectual enquiry is scientific-then there can hardly be anything wrong with the view that all intellectual enquiry is scientific! Moreover, given my earlier criticisms of Moreland's arguments, this may be no bad thing from the standpoint of the authors of the book.) There are various claims and points of detail in Meyer's chapter which I would dispute. However, I shall mention just one before I pass on. At p.97, Meyer claims that 'theism itself constrains design inferences'-i.e. that there will be constraints on the possibility of appeal to supernatural intervention in the affairs of the world which arise 'from theological considerations'. It seems to me that this judgement relies on the assumption that, if there is an intelligent designer, then that designer will be the familiar God of traditional Western theology. But, once we are allowing in design hypotheses, we have to let them all in-and, when we do that, we can't presuppose that the victorious hypothesis will be our favourite one. Perhaps the world is the product of intelligent design by some other kind of being-and, if so, who's to say what kind of constraints their activity is subject to? (I shall reurn to this issue in my concluding remarks.) On the Very Possibility of Intelligent Design, by William A. Dembski The main burden of Dembski's article is to establish that it is logically possible that there be compelling evidence of intelligent and transcendent design. Towards the end of the article, Dembski briefly addresses the questions: (i) whether there is any compelling evidence of intelligent and transcendent design; (ii) why so many intelligent and reasonable people think that there is no (or insufficient) evidence of intelligent and transcendent design; and (iii) why it might be reasonable to think that the evidence of intelligent and transcendent design is bound to be subtle. As Dembski points out, many non–theists have been unsure what it would take to convince them that there is an intelligent and transcendent designer (of the universe, or of some of the ostensibly 'natural' objects which belong to the universe). If there were large–scale disruptions to the normal course of events, it might be more reasonable to think that we had all taken leave of our senses-LSD in the water supply, perhaps?-or that we had become the dupes of technologically advanced extraterrestrials, than to suppose that these disruptions were miracles worked by a flamboyant intelligent and transcendent designer. Similar considerations apply to the idea that an intelligent and transcendent designer might encode a signature into various kinds of entities in the world: suppose that the stars in the sky were arranged to spell out the message 'MADE BY GOD'; or that there was a part of the DNA code, or a part of the structure of various crystals, which spelled out this message; and so on. Dembski suggests that the discovery of a certain kind of oracle in the universe-one which can solve problems whose solution requires computational resources which we know exceed the resources available in the natural universe but for which we can then easily check that the solutions are correct-would be clear evidence of an intelligent and transcendent designer. Suppose, for example, that a pulsar were discovered to be transmitting a message in Morse code which codes a message in English. Suppose, 18 further, that this message specifies that, every hour, on the hour, we are to put a message in English inside a particular box. When we do this, we find that the pulsar transmits, in English, answers to these questions, which arive at ten minutes past the hour. By giving the pulsar mathematically intractable problems-i.e. problems whose solution requires computational resources which we know exceed the resouces available in the natural universe-whose solutions we can easily check to be correct once we have them, we could, says Dembski, establish that there must be a transcendent intelligence which is solving the problems. In this case, it would not be plausible to think that we had all taken leave of our senses; and the nature of the case seems to rule out monkey business on the part of technologically advanced extraterrestrials (since they couldn't have the resources to solve mathematically intractable problems). Perhaps one might think that, in these circumstances, one would need to revise one's estimates of the number of elementary particles in the universe, or the minimum speed with which bits can be switched, or the age of the universe-since these are the numbers which are used in determining which mathematical problems are computationally intractable. (In particular, if there is no finite bound on the number of elementary particles in the universe, and if there are signals which can be transmitted faster than light, then it may be that we should not rule out the possibility that we are the dupes of technologically advanced aliens.) Or perhaps one might think that, in these circumstances, one would need to consider the possibility that there are unfamiliar kinds of computers-e.g. quantum computers or continuous computers-which can solve problems which are computationally intractable for digital computers. (Perhaps it is worth bearing in mind that a world with a finite number of elementary particles can still be infinite in phase space. The constraint imposed by the number of elementary particles applies, at best, to digital computers.) I am not sure how much weight to place on these considerations; I mention them just because it is not utterly obvious that Dembski's case is completely watertight. Suppose that we grant that there is nothing in our universe which could carry out the computations. (And suppose that we ignore the at least logical possibility that there might be a spacetime wormhole-or some route through another spatio–temporal dimension- connecting the pulsar to some other spatiotemporal domain where there are the resources to carry out the computations. This would be another way in which advanced alien technology might intrude.) What should we conclude? It does seem that, in the envisioned circumstances, we ought to come to the conclusion that there is a transcendent intelligence-i.e. that there is an intelligent entity which exists in some domain which is external to our spacetime. Note, however, how weak this conclusion is when compared to the claim that theists typically wish to defend. All we have is that there is an intelligent entity which is responsible for some aspects of the design of the pulsar. We do not have that this intelligent entity-or any other intelligent entity-is responsible for the creation or design of the universe or any other of its denizens. (Perhaps our transcendent intelligence does no more than to 'tweak' the naturally emitted signals from the pulsar.) As Hume would have insisted, there are ever so many hypotheses which one can dream up about the domain in which our transcendent being exists, and about the relationships between this being and our world. For all that has been said, the transcendent being may 19 be contingent, of middling moral virtue, and very far from omniscient or omnipotent. Moreover, there may be many such beings, and entities like our universe may be naturally occuring objects in their realm. Even if the pulsar tells us that it is transmitting messages from the sole creator and designer of the universe, it is not clear that one would be rationally obliged to believe this (though I guess that it would be rationally permissible to do so). Again, I'm not sure how much weight to put on the considerations raised in this paragraph; I mention them because it is clear that one would want to be cautious in drawing conclusions in the envisaged circumstances. Suppose we grant that Dembski's case of the incredible talking pulsar establishes that it is logically possible that there be good evidence for the existence of a personal, transcendent creator and designer (with the kinds of attributes which are traditionally ascribed to God in Western theology). Does this concession have any important consequences for the debate between theists and non–theists? In particular, does it have any important consequences for 'methodological naturalism'? If 'methodological naturalism' involves the claim that it is a priori that there are no supernatural entities, then, indeed, 'methodological naturalism' would be refuted by Dembski's case (given the concessions which we have made). However, it seems to me to be wrong to think that science rules out the supernatural on a priori grounds. Consider the case of astrology. Setting aside some difficult metaphysical issues, it seems plausible that it is logically possible that there be good evidence for astrology-e.g. it is logically possible that astrologers (and only astrologers) make perfectly correct detailed predictions about the future on the basis of their astrological theories. Nonetheless, science quite correctly refuses to countenance astrology as a serious possibility, not because there is a priori reason to rule it out, but because: (i) there is no evidence that detailed astrological predications ever fare better than chance; and (ii) it is utterly implausible to think that mechanisms to explain astrological predictions could find any place in current scientific accounts of the world. If the prior probability, that mechanisms to explain astrological predictions could fit into current scientific accounts of the world, were not so low, then there might be reason to invest more effort looking for evidence; but, given current science-which, of course, is based on centuries of partly a posteriori endeavour-it is reasonable to think that it would just be a waste of time and effort to throw much in the way of resources in this direction. (More about this line of thought in a minute.) As I mentioned earlier, Dembski concludes his article with a brief examination of three issues: (i) whether there is any compelling evidence of intelligent and transcendent design; (ii) why so many intelligent and reasonable people think that there is no (or insufficient) evidence of intelligent and transcendent design; and (iii) why it might be reasonable to think that the evidence of intelligent and transcendent design is bound to be subtle. On the first issue, Dembski claims that there is compelling evidence in the cosmos and in living systems, but that this is the burden of subsequent chapters of the book. (We shall return to these matters later.) On the second issue, Dembski claims that it is 'methodological naturalism' which excludes design from rational discourse on a priori grounds. And, on the third issue-following Pascal-he claims that it is reasonable to think that the evidence for design should not be obvious (if it is the case that the world is 20 designed by the God of traditional Western theology). I shall consider the second and third points in reverse order. Now, Dembski may be right that there are grounds for thinking that the evidence for design should not be obvious, if the universe were designed by Pascal's God. (And, similarly, he may be right that it is logically possible that there should be a superintelligent verifiable oracle to which only a limited number of people have access. It does seem logically possible that I might have a magic penny which does what his incredible talking pulsar does.) However, it seems to me that these grounds have the potential to raise difficulties for the claim that there can be a 'theistic science' (of the kind which Moreland promotes in his introduction). Whatever else is characteristic of science, it seems to be crucial that science is publicly accessible-anyone who is smart enough and who is prepared to work hard enough can have access to the results of science (without the aid of priestly or scholastic interpretters, for example). If the evidence for design is sufficiently unobvious-or if it is only accessible to those with magic pennies-then it is likely that it will fail the public accessibility requirement. (I am assuming that Dembski is thinking-as Pascal did-that the evidence for design might be unobvious in ways which no amount of mere intelligence can penetrate: only the pure of heart or the true believers are able to see the evidence. I can't see any reason why, on traditional theistic hypotheses, the evidence of design should be apparent only to the very intelligent and intellectually industrious.) Even setting these considerations aside-and turning back to the second of the issues which Dembski raises, and to some remarks which I made earlier-it seems to me pretty implausible to think that there is anything which rules out design hypotheses from science on a priori grounds-and hence, in particular, that there is nothing which deserves to be called 'methodological naturalism' which does this ruling out. Rather-as in the case of astrology which I discussed above-the crucial points are: (i) that there is no evidence that design hypotheses have anything to contribute to science; and (ii) that there is no room for any mechanisms for intelligent design in current scientific accounts of the world. As in the case of astrology, it remains open that there could be reason to revise these opinions; but there is no good reason to squander limited resources in looking for such reasons. (As in the case of astrology, there are plenty of people who are prepared to invest their own resources in such projects. If they come up with any useful results, it is bound to be the case that the rest of us will be informed.) Note, in particular, that it is no use arguing that the approach which I have just outlined 'seriously limits our options' (cf. 133). Of course, if our world is the product of intelligent design, then this approach is not on the right track. But, equally, if you can read the future in the stars or in sheeps entrails, then this approach is not on the right track. Since we are subject to limitations of resources, we are obliged to take certain kinds of punts. (I shall return to these issues in my concluding remarks.) Astronomical Evidences for a Personal, Transcendent God, by Hugh Ross Ross considers the scientific evidence from astronomy and cosmology which is supposed to support the kalam and design arguments. I shall provide a brief summary of each part 21 of this discussion, and then I shall provide some critical comments. Since I have no particular expertise in matters astronomical and cosmological, I shall not take issue with Ross's claims about what the evidence is; instead, my questions will be about what this evidence is supposed to show. (i) Evidence for a beginning: Ross provides a brief history of scientific cosmology, beginning with Kant's Newtonian vision of the cosmos. He notes three difficulties for the Newtonian conception of a static infinite universe: (i) the work of Stefan and Boltzmann showed that Olber's paradox-the question of why the night sky is dark, given that, in the Newtonian universe, any line can be extended until it eventually meets a star which is radiating light towards the earth-cannot be resolved by appeal to an intervening absorptive medium; (ii) the work of Zollner, Seeliger and Neumann showed that the gravitational potential at any point in the Newtonian universe is infinite; and (iii) the famous Michelson–Morley experiment seemed to show that there is no aether (hence, no absolute space and time, as demanded by the Newtonian model). Ross then notes that Einstein provided a general relativistic model of the universe which can overcome these difficulties, and which provided the basis for all subsequent scientific cosmology. Ross's account of Einstein's model is rather sketchy: the main point is that, although Einstein's initial model-like the model discovered at around the same time by de Sitter-was stationary, the most natural cosmological models based on the general theory of relativity are expanding-hence, non–stationary-models. (Einstein introduced a 'cosmological constant'-conceptually tied to a cosmological repulsive force-in order to derive his stationary model. Without the cosmological constant-and subject to other natural constraints-general relativistic models are bound to be non–stationary.) In the late 1920s, Hubble and others found empirical evidence that the universe is, indeed, expanding-thus confirming one of the predictions of Einstein's theory. As Ross notes, if the universe is expanding, then the question naturally arises whether the expansion can be traced all the way back to a beginning point. This idea was first seriously persued by Lemaitre-who, in the late 1920s, entertained the possiblity of a 'primeval atom-and was developed by Gamow-who, in the 1940s, developed many of the details of the hot Big Bang theory. (We shall return to this history later.) However, there are competing scenarios which were also taken seriously by cosmologists, and the main aim of Ross's discussion is to show that these alternatives can be ruled out. The two main competing alternatives are: (i) steady state universes (in which there is continuous creation of matter); and (ii) oscillating universes (in which the universe goes through infinitely many alternating phases of expansion and contraction from Big Bang to Big Crunch). On these alternatives, the universe is infinite in the past-and, if that were so, then there would be no beginning. Ross claims-I think correctly-that there is quite good reason to think that our universe does not oscillate infinitely, and that it is not a steady state universe. Moreover, as Ross also claims, there is quite a bit of evidence which supports the claim that ours is a hot Big Bang universe. In particular, the discovery of the cosmic microwave background radiation in 1965 and the COBE discoveries of the early 1990s seem to provide strong empirical support for hot Big Bang models. (Ross also claims that the Hawking–Penrose singularity theorems provide support for hot Big Bang models. I'm pretty sure that this is not right. Those theorems do show that 22 singularities are generic in general relativistic models-but I don't think that there are any theorems which show that initial singularities are generic in general relativistic models. Thus, the case for 'a beginning for time' is nowhere near as strong as Ross suggests on p.152. Nonetheless, the case is strong.) Ross assumes-pretty much without argument-that evidence for 'a beginning for time' is evidence for a transcendent creator. After a bizarre section-pp.152/3-in which he claims to show that Christianity is uniquely supported by this cosmological data, and in which he exhibits 'biblical statements of cosmological significance', Ross goes on to consider some possible objections to this 'argument' from hot Big Bang cosmology. He considers five possible replies: (i) that quantum–tunelling provides a model for things to come into existence from nothing; (ii) that an ensemble of universes may have arisen back before the Planck time (when quantum gravitational effects allowed that anything is possible); (iii) that when we correct our models to take account of quantum effects in the very early stages of the universe, it will turn out that there is no initial singularity (cf. Hawking's 'no boundary condition' boundary condition); (iv) that people created the universe (through some weird kind of reverse creation or obserer–dependence of quantum events); and (v) that the Omega Point is God, and it is the ultimate explanation of all that comes before (cf. the bizarre theories of Frank Tipler). There is little that seems sensible in these suggestions, and Ross has a fairly easy task demolishing them. (There is one significant point. We know that general relativity and quantum mechanics are inconsistent, and that we shall need a successor theory. We don't know what our cosmological models will look like when we have this successor theory. It is not ruled out, yet, that there will be no initial singularity in those models. So there is some reason to be cautious about claiming that science now commits us to an initial singularity. Beyond this, it seems wisest to be silent: we don't yet have these theories, so we don't know what they will say.) Leaving aside the point about quantum cosmology, the crucial point to make is that there is a huge gap between the premise that science tells us that there is an initial singularity and the conclusion that science tells us that there is a transcendent creator. Since I made most of the relevant points in my discussion of Moreland's introduction, I shall only briefly recapitulate them here. In all standard general relativistic models, the spatiotemporal manifold is open-i.e. there is no first moment of time. (The initial singularity is an ideal point; it does not belong to the spatiotemporal manifold, and nor do any other boundary points.) Consequently, there is no important topological difference between Big Bang models and models in which time is infinite in the past: in both cases, there is no first moment of time. Thus, that the world is a hot Big Bang world provides no extra reason to think that it was created by a transcendent being: there is no less reason to think that the world was created by a transcendent creator in the case in which the world is infinite in the past. If time were discrete, the case would be different-but there is no evidence that time is discrete (and it is certainly supposed to be continuous in all standard hot Big Bang models). So, in short, Ross's claims about evidence for a beginning are just completely mistaken: kalam cosmological arguments get no support from current cosmological models. 23 (ii) Evidence for design: Ross provides a fairly standard presentation of fine–tuning arguments for design. He notes 25 aspects of the universe which seem to need to be fine–tuned for life (some to extraordinary degrees of accuracy), and 32 features of the galaxy, sun, earth and moon which seem to need to be fine–tuned for life (some again to quite extraordinary degrees of accuracy). On the basis of this data, Ross argues that it is perfectly clear that life on earth is the result of intelligent design, and that the universe has been designed for life. The only objection which he considers is the suggestion that, despite the odds, the improbable might have happened-and he has little trouble pointing out that this is a fairly poor objection. However, there are other objections which one might make to this argument (as Moreland points out in his discussion of this kind of argument in his introduction). Ross doesn't consider the possibility of an ensemble of universes; or the possibility that the appearance of design at any time can be explained in terms of the appearance of design at even earlier times; or the possibility that it is just a mistake to apply the language of objective chances to the universe as a whole. Moreover, he also fails to note that there is a big stretch from the claim that there is an intelligent designer to the claim that the universe was designed by the God of the Bible (cf. his conclusion that 'the more astronomers learn .. the more they accumulate evidence for the existence of .. the God of the Bible' (171)). Even if one were to accept that there is evidence of intelligent design, it is hard to see how this could possibly amount to more than commitment to some nebulous kind of deism (cf. Hume's well–known analysis of design argument in his Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion.). Since I have already said quite a bit about these matters in my discussion of Moreland' introduction, I shall say no more about them here. Information and the Origin of Life, by Walter L. Bradley and Charles B. Thaxton Bradley and Thaxton focus most of the discussion of this chapter on Oparin's hypothesis about the earliest steps in the evolution of life: the formation of small prebiotic builiding blocks (amino acids, fatty acids, sugars, nucliec acid bases), the subsequent formation of macromolecules and supramolecular structures from these building blocks (polymers of amino acids, membrane vesicles), and then the formation of the first forms of early life (protobionts or protocells). (Some later stages of evolution are discussed in the next chapter.) Bradley and Thaxton argue that Oparin's hypothesis is 'conceptually bankrupt' (193), and that no alternative naturalistic account of the earliest stages in the evolution of life is even remotely plausible. They then go on to argue that 'intelligent design' is a plausible account of the origins of life, and develop an information–theoretic design argument which is intended to support this contention. However, they also insist that this inference to intelligent design is not necessarily an inference to an intelligent designer: their stated aim here is just to establish that intelligent design is a plausible account of the origins of life on earth. I shall give a brief outline of their claims (much of it couched very much in their words). (i) Oparin's Hypothesis: In 1924, Oparin proposed that the early earth's atmosphere consisted of ammonia, methane, hydrogen, and some water vapour, but no oxygen. He 24 suggested that, under the influence of lightning and ultraviolet light, such an atmosphere would react chemically to form the amino acids, bases, sugars, lipids and other organic molecules which are the prebiotic building blocks. He also suggested that, over time, this process would lead to a significant concentration of these prebiotic building blocks in lakes, oceans, and Darwin's 'small warm ponds'. Once this concentration was significantly high, polymers would have formed, including macromolecules which could then agglomerate into the first forms of early life. In 1952, Stanley Miller performed a classic experiment which confirmed part of Oparin's hypothesis-when a spark is discharged in a mixture of ammonia, methane, hydrogen and boiling water, it is indeed the case that amino acids are formed. (Of the twenty biological amino acids, all but lysine have been produced in Miller–style experiments.) Other similar experiments have produced all five nucleic bases found in RNA and DNA, and various fatty acids found in cell membranes. (ii) Problems for Oparin's Hypothesis: Bradley and Thaxton note a multitude of problems for Oparin's hypothesis. There is evidence from atmospheric physics that the early earth's atmosphere did not contain ammonia, methane or hydrogen. Moreover, there is also evidence from atmospheric physics that the early earth's atmosphere did consist of nitrogen, carbon dioxide and water vapour. But Miller–style experiments won't work in this alternative atmosphere. Furthermore, there may be reasons to think that one would require very special conditions in order to allow the prebiotic building blocks to accumulate. (Typically, in these experiments, there is a selective use of energy, and quick removal of prebiotic products from the energy flux, because longer wavelengths of radiation will cause amino acids to break down.) And there are also reasons for thinking that the conditions which are needed in order to synthesise the sugars ribose and deoxyribose-building blocks for RNA and DNA-are quite unlike those conditions which prevailed on the early earth. So, say Bradley and Thaxton, there are reasons to be sceptical that the prebiotic building blocks could have arisen in the way which Oparin suggested. Moreover, they continue, even if the prebiotic building blocks could be produced in the way which Oparin suggested, there are much graver difficulties which confront the suggestion that these building blocks might be assembled into functional biopolymers by the action of heat (Darwin's 'warm little pond' again). As Bradley and Thaxton acknowledge, it is possible that peptide bonds might form between prebiotic building blocks simply given the availability of energy in the form of heat-but they insist that there is no way that one could get 'the right arrangements' of building blocks, i.e. the proteins with which we are familiar. The problem here is one of informational complexity: the proteins with which we are familiar form an extremely tiny subset of the possible polymers which can be formed from amino acids under random formation of peptide bonds. As Fred Hoyle says, the likelihood that our proteins developed by the random formation of peptide bonds between prebiotic building blocks is about the same as the likelihood of 'the assemblage of a 747 by a tornado whirling through a junkyard'. Bradley and Thaxton consider some attempted responses to the problem of informational complexity which they have raised. In 1990, Julius Rebek Jr. created a synthetic organic 25 molecule-AATE-which can replicate itself under certain special conditions. Bradley and Thaxton dismiss Rebek's creation by citing Joyce's claim that AATE reproduces too accurately to have any biological relevance-without the possibility for mutation, there is no possibility for evolution. In 1987, Jeffrey Wicken made two suggestions about responses to the problem of informational complexity, viz: (i) to claim that there is an entropic driving force which is responsible for the polymerisation reactions; and (ii) to claim that intrinsic chemical properties of the molecular building blocks might account for the specified sequences of the molecules in the biopolymers. In reply, Bradley and Thaxton note: (i) that any entropic driving force would have to be inconsequential once a small yield of polymers had been produced (else it would be much easier than it is to get polymerisation to occur in experimental systems); and (ii) that there is no evidence in support of the claim about intrinsic chemical properties. Finally, in 1990, Bernard Kuppers suggested that we need to suppose that there is some kind of natural selection which operates in the realm of inanimate matter. Against this, Bradley and Thaxton object that Kupper's hypothesis lacks both conceptual detail and experimental support. (iii) Alternatives to Oparin's Hypothesis: Bradley and Thaxton suppose that their critique of Oparin's hypothesis is pretty much decisive, so they turn to alternative accounts of the origins of life which have been proposed. These include: (i) Cairns–Smith's proposal that life arose on solid substrates with enough complexity to mutate and evolve in a lifelike way (e.g. on crystalline clays); (ii) Corliss's proposal that hydrothermal vents on the sea floor may have supplied the energy and nutrients needed to create and sustain life; (iii) Wachterschauser's and de Duve's proposals of ways in which life might have started as a metabolic process on the surface of a solid (e.g. a pyrite mineral or a thioester); (iv) proposals based on Prigogine's studies of spontaneuous ordering in far–from–equilibrium systems; and (v) Eigen's account of the development of early living systems given various protein molecules and RNA. Bradley and Thaxton contend that either these theories are 'pure speculation', without any empirical support ((i), (iii)); or they lack the ability to solve the problem of informational complexity ((ii), (iii), (iv)); or they are not really relevant to the problem of origins (v). (iv) Information–Theoretic Design Arguments: Bradley and Thaxton suppose that their examination shows that the prospects for non– intentional accounts of the origins of life are pretty dim. Moreover, they suggest that there is material here for the construction of a design argument which establishes the existence of an intelligent designer (though perhaps not necessarily a supernatural intelligent designer). The basis of their argument is the claim that certain molecules- DNA and protein-which are fundamental for life are also high in informational content (specified complexity). They suggest that, while it is possible for order with low informational content (e.g. that exhibited in snowflakes and crystals) to arise by non– intentional processes, 'there is no convincing experimental evidence that it is possible for order with high information content to arise by non–intentional processes' (208, with some minor modifications). That is, the only plausible explanation of the appearance on 26 earth of molecules with high informational content is that these molecules are the product of intelligent design. (v) Some Critical Comments: Having outlined the case which Bradley and Thaxton make, I shall now make one or two critical comments. I suppose I should begin by noting that I am not in any sense an expert in the field of evolutionary theory; I shall make my criticisms only under the assumption that Bradley and Thaxton give a reasonably accurate account of the current state of origins research. If they have overlooked or misrepresented important lines of research, it is up to other people to point this out. The main argument which Bradley and Thaxton give-the one upon which they place the most stress-is a familiar one. In 1947, the French chemist du Nouy sought to cast doubt on evolutionary theory-and, in particular, on Oparin–style hypotheses-by calculating the probability that a protein molecule be assembled purely by chance from the atoms which make it up. He found-of course-that the chance of this happening is incredibly small. Bradley and Thaxton give a similar calculation, but they assume that the fundamental building blocks from which we begin are the amino acids rather than atoms. Consequently, they provide a probability which is much larger than the one given by du Nouy, but still one which is incredibly small. Now, the obvious response to du Nouy-and, indeed, to Bradley and Thaxton-is that evolutionary theorists need not and do not assume that such incredibly unlikely events have occured. Proteins are not assembled directly from atoms (and, indeed, Oparin did not assume that they are). Rather, atoms are first assembled into amino acids, and other building blocks (something which Bradley and Thaxton do not suppose is ruled out by probability considerations). Given this modest success, evolutionary theorists might well wonder whether the trick can be turned again. Could it be, for example, that there are replicating biopolymers which are less complicated than the familiar proteins, but which can nonetheless act as stepping stones on the way to the formation of the familiar proteins? Perhaps there is some reason why this is ruled out but, if so, Bradley and Thaxton do not give it. What they give are some reasons for doubting some proposals along these lines-but that falls a long way short of a demonstration that this general line of thought is incorrect. Perhaps Bradley and Thaxton might agree. Though they do say that Oparin's hypothesis is 'conceptually bankrupt', they might be prepared to concede that this is an overstatement-the truth is rather, that there are large gaps in any evolutionary theory which runs along these lines. However, it is not at all clear that one should think that the presence of such gaps is a crippling defect in a scientific theory. Of course, if there is a competing theory which has no such gaps, then the competing theory will win. But, if there is no plausible competing theory, then it may be perfectly rational to continue to accept the theory in question, gaps and all. For all that has been said so far, it may be that the most reasonable thing to believe is that there is some way of filling this gap in the theory, but we don't yet know what it is. (Perhaps here it is worth recalling that there are 27 large gaps in Big Bang cosmology, and, indeed, in many other historical sciences. If it cannot be reasonable to accept a global theory even though you are utterly unsure about some of the details, then it will not be reasonable to accept Big Bang cosmology-and so the crucial a posteriori support for the kalam cosmological argument will again disappear.) Of course, Bradley and Thaxton disagree: they think that appeal to intelligent design will yield a better theory. Since no detailed theory of this kind has been presented, it is hard to fully evaluate this proposal. However, it is important to remember that, even if theories which appeal to intelligent design have no difficulty on the point of creation of proteins, they may well face difficulties in other areas which evolutionary theory does not. It's a well–known point that it is much easier to criticise theories than it is to contruct them (at least if theory construction is constrained by the normal requirements of fit with evidence, consistency, explanatory width, etc.). Moreover, it's a commonplace that scientific theories have difficulties which endure for centuries without undermining the worth of those theories. (Think, for example, of Newtonian physics. From the beginning, it was subject to certain conceptual difficulties which were only 'resolved' when Einstein developed his theories of relativity. Nonetheless, we still think that there is a good sense in which the Newtonian theory was on the right track: where we can ignore relativistic and quantum considerations, it gives the correct answers.) So there are various different kinds of considerations which suggest that, even if Bradley and Thaxton are right about the current state of evolutionary theory, we should be cautious about accepting their conclusion that evolutionary theory has reached its use–by date. Moreover, there may be reasons to be sceptical about their information–theoretic design argument. For one thing, it is not clear to me that they are right to claim that there are no uncontroversial cases in which order with high informational content has arisen by non– intentional processes. Think, for example, about the fossil record in geological strata. Bradley and Thaxton do not context that the fossil record arose by non–intentional processes; and it certainly seems to be the case that the fossil record has high informational content. (Perhaps this claim relies on a misunderstanding of what Bradley and Thaxton mean by 'high informational content'. In that case, these remarks should just be ignored.) More importantly, even if they are right that there are no uncontroversial cases in which order with high informational content has arisen by non–intentional processes, it's not at all clear why we should think that this claim supports the conclusion that order with high informational content must be the product of intelligent design. As I noted earlier, the important question here is about the overall merits of competing hypotheses: there may be other reasons why it is wrong to think that proteins are the product of intelligent design, but which will not be apparent until we turn our attention to the details of theories of intelligent design of proteins. (Perhaps its worth thinking here about the official theology of the Catholic Church, i.e. about the best developed version of traditional Western theology. This theology has been worked on by countless extremely intelligent people over a period of nearly 2000 years. Even so, it still contains all manner of unclarities, improbabilities, puzzles, problems and the like, and it is still in the course of development. If this theology is to be the basis for our account of the intelligent design of proteins, then we need to think about the adequancy-indeed the 28 coherence-of its account of the problems of evil, the problems of divine foreknowledge, the problems of divine freedom, the paradoxes of omnipotence and omniscience, the Trinity, the Resurrection, transubstantiation, and a host of other issues. The costs of evolutionary theory-and indeed, the costs of naturalistic science in general-may not look nearly so prohibitive when set against all of this.) In sum: It seems to me that Bradley and Thaxton make quite a good case for the claim that evolutionary science is currently facing some reasonably serious foundational difficulties. However, I don't think that they make much of a case for the claim that these difficulties must be resolved by appeal to intelligent design. In particular, I think that there is no way that such a case could be made without some account of the nature of theories which appeal to intelligent design (so that their virtues and vices can be compared with the virtues and vices of their non–intentional competitors). If, for example, it turned out that theories which appeal to intelligent design are bound to have lots of explanatory gaps, then there would be no clear reason to prefer them to their non– intentional competitors. (What one should think in these circumstances remains an open question. Perhaps one then ought to be agnostic about questions of origins; or perhaps one ought to prefer non–intentional theories on other grounds; or ... We shall return to this issue in the final summing up.) The Origin of Life's Major Groups, by Kurt P. Wise Wise discusses, and criticises, one major tenet of macroevolutionary theory, viz. the claim that there is a single tree of life which relates all living things. He examines what he takes to be the major evidence which supports this claim-and the evidence which is in conflict with it-and suggests that a theory of intelligent design can explain the evidence better. Evidence which is often held to support macroevolutionary theory includes: (i) similarities amongst phylogenies; (ii) embryological recapitulation; (iii) nested hierarchy of form; (iv) suboptimal improvisations; (v) vestigial organs; (vi) macrobiogeography; (vii) fossil order; and (viii) fossil transitions. In each case, Wise allows that there is at least an initial appearance that the evidence supports macroevolutionary theory. But, in each case, he claims, it is also true that the evidence can be explained by a theory of intelligent design-and, moreover, in most cases, there are difficulties for the macroevolutionary explanation which do not arise for the theory of intelligent design. Furthermore, Wise claims, there is some evidence which macroevolutionary theory leaves unexplained, in particular: (ix) the complexity at all levels of the biological world; (x) the integration of all levels of the biological world; and (xi) the aesthetic beauty of the natural world. In his view, a theory of intelligent design can explain all of this evidence. Rather than discuss each of these cases in turn, I shall just consider Wise's discussion of the first case: similarities amongst phylogenies. Wise claims that in evolutionary theory, anologies-similarities which are not due to genetic relationships-should be expected to be very uncommon, whereas on theories of intelligent design they should be expected to be common (as, in fact, they turn out to be). Since, as Goodman pointed out, 29 any two things are alike in ever so many ways and unlike in ever so many ways, it must be that there are some restrictions on the kinds of features which are allowed to count as analogies. (Any consistent theory has to allow that analogies are common unless there are restrictions on the kinds of analogies allowed.) Since Wise doesn't tell us what these restrictions are, there is no way for me to assess the claims which he is making here. Wise also claims that in evolutionary theory, discordances-discrepancies which arise from calculating according to different criteria of similarity-should be expected to be very uncommon, whereas on theories of intelligent design they should be expected to be common (as, in fact, they turn out to be). This claim also seems to be vitiated by uncertainties about what kinds of similarities and differences are at issue. Suppose we set this worry aside. (Perhaps it is just my ignorance of biological theory which makes me think that there is even a problem here.) There is another worry about Wise's discussion, which extends to all of the other cases as well. Wise claims that, if an intelligent designer were responsible for the variety of life, then we should expect similarities among organisms. 'If the intelligent Designer has a common purpose-the production of adult organisms-then embryonic forms and molecular structures were designed to produce the adult structures. Similarities in adults would be expected to be tied to similarities in embryology and molecules.' (214) I don't see that there is anything which deserves to be called 'an explanation' here. Wise has told us nothing about the characteristics of the intelligent designer which he is postulating, beyond the fact that it wants to produce adult organisms. Given just this much, I don't see how we can infer anything about likely similarities. Perhaps, if the intelligent designer is subject to various kinds of constraints, we might be able to get some consequences-but since the ultimate theory at which Wise is aiming is one in which there is an omniscient and omnipotent designer, it seems unlikely that there is much in the way of constraints which can be imposed. Part of the problem here is that Wise simply talks about what could be expected 'on theories of intelligent design'. But there are many different possible theories of intelligent design, and there is no reason to think that they will all yield the same answers on any given question (even for those versions of the theory which are sufficiently precise to yield any answers at all). If we suppose that the designers are creatures much like ourselves-subject to all kinds of finitude-then we may be able to make some kinds of conjectures about what they are likely to do; but if we suppose that the designers are creatures not much like ourselves, and not subject to much in the way of constraints, then we shall surely make very different conjectures about what they are likely to do. Consequently, none of Wise's claims about what theories of intelligent design can be expected to say carry any credence at all. (Note, too, that there is the possibility of sliding between conjectures about what intelligent designers much like ourselves would do and what intelligent designers not much like ourselves would do. This is another reason why Wise needs to consider one detailed theory of design at a time when assessing the comparative merits of evolutionary theories.) Consider, for example, Wise's claim that 'if life is the result of an intelligence analogous to humankind's, then a nested hierarchy of life forms would be the expected result'. (220) 30 Why? What on earth could be the justification for this claim (other than the fact that, accoding to Wise, there is a nested hierarchy of form, and so, of course, the correct theory is bound to predict this fact)? What's needed here is the formulation of a theory of an intelligent design for which it is possible to trace out implications about the kinds of outputs expected. Until there is a definite theory to set against evolutionary theory, the kind of project in which Wise is engaged is completely pointless. (That's not to say that Wise may not be right in claiming that there is data which is hard for macroevolutionary theory to accomodate. However, for the reasons given in my discussion of the previous chapter, it's not clear that it would be a major blow to macroevolutionary theory even if this were the case.) Origin of the Human Language Capacity: In whose Image?, by John W. Oller, Jr. and John L. Omdahl Oller and Omdahl argue for a number of claims, the most important of which (I think) are the following: 1. There is an anology between human capacity for language use and the genetic code which supports the claim that, if the latter is the result of intelligent design, then so is the former. 2. It is impossible to give an adequate materialist account of the origins of human language. 3. All of our concepts are innate. 4. Apes cannot learn language. 5. There is an abstract eternal realm (evidence for which is found in our freedom to make choices and in our ability to 'think outside the spatiotemporal'). Their overall aim is to vindicate the position which holds that human beings were separately and specially designed and created-that we have abilities and capacities which are not continuous with those of other animals-and that the designer and creator belongs to a realm which transcends the spatiotemporal. Oller's and Omdahl's discussion of the alleged 'analogy' between human capacity for language use and the genetic code is not terribly clear. I think that what they are claiming is this: For the kinds of reasons given by Bradley and Thaxton, it must be that the genetic code is the result of intelligent design. Consequently, any capacity which is programmed into the human genome is the product of intelligent design. There is good reason to think that the human capacity for language use is programmed into the human genome. So there is good reason to think that the human capacity for language use is the product of intelligent design. The problem with this interpretation of what they say is that it seems not to involve any kind of analogy-the conclusion of the reasoning does not depend upon any alleged similarities between the genetic code and the human capacity for language use. Here is a different suggestion about what Oller and Omdahl may be thinking: There are some good analogies between the genetic code and human languages. In particular, both the genetic code and human languages can be thought of as storehouses for information. Since it must be the case that the genetic code is the product of intelligent design, there is 31 good reason to think that human capacity for language use is the product of intelligent design. But, of course, the problem with this interpretation is that the inference is clearly no good: the appropriate analogy is between the genetic code and human languages, not between the genetic code and the human capacity for language use. And Oller and Omdahl note as much: they say 'we want to show that the products of human language capacity [i.e. languages?] are similar in design to the biological texts that form the basis of biological organisms (p.237); and 'both linguistic and biological structures reveal an articulate design' (p.246). (Note, by the way, that there are many important respects in which the genetic code and human languages are quite unlike each other. For example, the genetic code is not a system of representations which depends upon arbitrary conventions; and nor is it the case that the genetic code involves a system of representations which play functional roles in the mental lives of agents. These kinds of disanalogies might well suffice to undermine any argument based on alleged analogies between the genetic code and human languages. Certainly, they seem sufficient to undermine any analogical argument to the conclusion that human languages could not have purely naturalistic explanations.) Since I cannot reconstruct the argument of their paper, I shall suppose that Oller and Omdahl are committed to the first argument which I sketched above. Leaving aside the reliance on the arguments of Bradley and Thaxton, the crucial premise here is the claim that there is good reason to think that the human capacity for language use is programmed into the human genome. Oller and Omdahl rely principally on an appeal to authority in defending this premise. ('[It is a central theme of modern linguistics that] whatever facts we can know can be known only by linking prior knowledge from our innate capacities with an external world' (p.243). '[T]he solution that is almost universally accepted by modern linguists .. is to suppose that the conceptual basis for human understanding and the language capacity itself is essentially innate.' (p.250) ) The one argument they give is contained in a quote from Chomsky: 'The rate of vocabulary acquisition is so high at certain stages of life, and the precision and delicacy of the concepts acquired so remarkable, that it seems necessary to conclude that in some manner the conceptual system with which lexical items are connected is already substantially in place.' (255) This is a very slender reed on which to hang their argument. Chomsky does not say (here) that all of our concepts are innate; nor that we need to suppose that they are in order to explain language acquisition in children. It seems very plausible to think that some of our concepts are innate, and that there is some sense in which an ability to learn language is part of our genetic endowment (if only because the possession of large brains is part of our genetic endowment). But it is a big leap from this plausible claim to the much stronger contention that all of our concepts are innate and that pretty much everything about the human capacity for language use is programmed into the human genome. And, in any case, even if it did turn out that the strong claim about innateness is correct, our earlier objections to the arguments of Bradley and Thaxton would still suffice to defeat the argument to the conclusion that human linguistic capabilities must be the products of intelligent design. Oller and Omdahl make much of the claim that apes cannot acquire human language systems. They claim that, while apes can be taught large vocabularies of symbols, there 32 are many things which we can do with our vocabularies of symbols which apes cannot do with theirs-e.g. ask questions, recognise structure–dependence, practice linguistic ascent, indefinitely expand vocabulary, achieve much greater than 80% accuracy in using signs, etc. Moreover, they (at least implicitly) claim that this shows that there is a difference in kind between what apes can do and what we can do, and hence that it is implausible to think that there are evolutionary relations between us and the apes. I don't want to contest the data on which they rely; but I do think that the inferences which are supposed to be supported by it are somewhat tenuous. If we (perhaps crudely) think of minds on the models of computers, then the difference between us and the apes might just be a matter of processing capacities (you need more memory and more speed in order to run sophisticated language programmes). That I need to upgrade my computer in order to run updated versions of my favorite software does not show that there is a difference in kind between my earlier and later computers. (It is plausible to think that the apes have hard–wired conceptual capacities of various kinds, just as we do. Whose to know what they could do if they were able to upgrade?) Certainly, if the rest of the evolutionary story is intact, then the claim that the linguistic abilities of apes provides a stumbling block seems to be quite implausible. There are a couple of places where Oller and Omdahl give what seem to me to be disastrously bad arguments for philosophical conclusions. I shall end this section by mentioning a couple of them. On p.248, they write: 'Logical analysis shows that any intention to do something is, from the physical point of view, merely a hypothetical possibility, not yet an act. It is just an abstract proposition associating a subject .. with a predicate. ... Before such events are caused by the person who intends to cause them, they are merely abstract propositions about potential states of affairs in the mind of the person who is considering or willing to do them. ... [On the contrary] within a nonmaterialistic realism, mental acts and all representations are accorded real status. ... Intentions, thoughts, and the abstract propositions they they truly manifest are all quite real irrespective of any particular physical event.' This is incredible! According to non–eliminativist materialist views, intentions are real entities, namely, neurophysiological states of those who have them. Mere logical analysis does not show that this kind of reductive materialism is mistaken. So there is no possibility of arguing directly from the reality of intentions, thoughts, etc. to the falsehood of materialism. It is just an elementary howler to think that this kind of argument shows that 'a material event is entirely incapable .. of creating, suggesting, or inferring .. any conceptual abstraction'. (249) Of course, it may be that materialism is mistaken-but it would take a quite different kind of argument to show that it is. (Perhaps it is worth noting that, in their summing up, Oller and Omdahl say that they have 'shown logically that the language capacity cannot have originated in any purely materialistic manner' (p.265). This claim refers back to the little gem which I have just been discussing.) Also on p.248, Oller and Omdahl give a little argument for the conclusion that there can be true counterfactuals: 'I hold my coffee cup in my hand about the tile floor. I don't drop it. If I did drop it .. it would fall. Is the fact that it would fall a real fact? Shall I do 33 the experiment and see? Of course not. No one doubts that if the experiment were done, it would come out as it always does. The cup would fall to the floor.' Of course! But which materialists have ever thought otherwise? Or, more importantly, why should you think that there is anything in this little story which is incompatible with a sensible materialism? (Perhaps a good think to look at in this connection is J. Bigelow and R. Pargetter (1990) Science and Necessity Cambridge: CUP. They are materialists; and they would agree with Oller and Omdahl that '[w]e know what would have happened if the cup had been dropped, and this proves our access to an abstract eternal realm that must be .. real' (p.265).) On p.266, they write: 'If any choice is to be regarded as real, we must accept the fact that the rejected alternative is as real as the one selected, though neither was physically determined before the choice was made. Otherwise there could be no real choice between dropping the cup or not.' Perhaps it is true that, if I am to make a genuine choice, then there must be real alternatives. (There seem to be cases in which I act freely even though there are no real alternatives. But that's a different story.) However, no compatibilist is going to grant that I can't have a genuine choice if my actions are (physically) determined. What matters for genuine choice-and for genuine freedom-is that my actions issue from my beliefs, desires, intentions, values, and so on in the right kind of way and in the right kind of circumstances. Or so say compatibilists. Again, there is a big debate here-but it's absurd to think that the dinky little argument which Oller and Omdahl give cuts any ice. Also on p.266, Oller and Omdahl give this argument: 'Though we are surely not omnsicient, nor omnipresent, nor omnipotent, by the powers released in us through the gift of language, we are undeniably able to entertain such concepts, and in doing so we give as clear a proof as ought to be required that our capacity for language cannot have originated within the narrow confines of any finite duration of experience.' This argument reminds me of the proof of the existence of God which Descartes gives in Meditation III: given the content of certain concepts pertaining to God, there is no way that they could have arisen in us. But why not? Perhaps there are some logical ideas which are innate-quantification, negation, comparative, and so forth-but with these and the concepts of knowledge, power and place we can constuct the concepts of omniscience, omnipresence and omnipotence. Thus, it is hard to see how anyone could think that there is something special about the concepts of the divine attributes which shows that those concepts could not have originated in us. (The argument at this point continues: 'Suppose I dropped the cup and it fell. This would be a particular event. Yet our conception of that event, like all conceptions whatever, is completely general. The conception would apply equally well to any event similar to the one at hand and thus reaches out to an infinity of possibilities that have never been experienced. If all the eons of the spacetime world could be multiplied clear to infinity, the material world would still fail to account for the abstract conceptions that any human being can easily solve through the gift of language. ... The most peculiar property of [the abstract and nonfinite human language capacity], the one that demands explanation, is that it enables us to step outside the bounds of time and space.' Here, we may be getting into difficult philosophical issues, in particular, Kripkean considerations about rule–following. Granted, it is hard to 34 understand the potential open-endedness of our concepts. But this is a problem for everyone, not just for materialists.) Finally, on p.249, Oller and Omdahl write: 'Recall the Sermon on the Mount, where it is argued that lust and unwarranted hatred will be judged in the end as equivalent to acts of sexual immorality and murder, respectively. Therefore the biblical perspective assigns no more weight of reality to the physical, material world than to the realm of merely abstract representations.' What kind of an inference is this? Lust and hatred belong to the physical, material world; they are no mere abstract representations. Even if they were, how could the fact that some 'abstract representations' are treated like real acts establish the conclusion that the physical, material world is no weightier than the realm of merely abstract represenations? Do different logical standards apply when inferences are drawn from scripture? (Later on the same page, our authors claim that 'the scientific ideas that follow from the Bible are very different from those of Darwin's philosophy or any other materialistic philosophy', where the evidence for this claim is based on a series of quotes from scripture which seem not to contain a single scientific idea, nor to carry any entailments about scientific ideas.) Appendix: Rational Inquiry and the Force of Scientific Data-Are New Horizons Emerging?, by John Ankerberg and John Weldon This appendix is an instance of a familiar feature of anti–evolution literature: a selection of quotes from well–known scientists and intellectuals expressing doubts about various aspects of contemporary evolutionary theory. Ankerberg and Weldon say: 'Virtually all aspects of evolutionary theory have recently encountered major critique by someone. Thus collectively considered, what now remains factually and scientifically established in evolutionary theory as a whole would appear to be marginal. Therefore we think it appropriate to consider new paradigms.' (271) However, it is at least worth noting: (i) that some of the anti-evolution quotes are from creationists or others who have never been well–disposed towards evolutionary theory; (ii) that the quotes are arranged without regard to chronology (and that there is no indication in the main text whether a quote belong to the 1950s or the 1990s, nor-in many cases-whether the person making the quote can plausibly be thought to be an expert on matters evolutionary); (iii) that the quotes are nearly all given without any clues about the contexts in which they are made, nor with any regard to different ways in which they might be interpretted; and (iv) that many of the quotes could only be thought to be damaging to the scientific standing of evolutionary theory if one makes absurd assumptions about the nature of science. (Let me illustrate with just one case. Ankerberg and Weldon start with this quote from E. White's Presidential Address to the Linnean Society, 1966: 'I have often thought how little I should like to prove organic evolution in a court of law.' This may sound damaging to evolutionary theory-and perhaps White worried that it was-but, in fact, there are very few scientific theories which can meet the standards which we demand in a court of law. In law, we require proof beyond all reasonable doubt; but, in science, we require only that our hypotheses be the most probable amongst those which we can devise (in light of all the evidence which is available). In some cases, we may have overwhelming evidence for a particular hypothesis-but there is no reason to think that this is likely to be the 35 norm (particularly in historical sciences, where our data is bound to be somewhat patchy).) Rather than trawl through Ankerberg's and Weldon's piece, I shall confine myself to the following point: There is no doubt that one could write a very similar article based on a selection of quotes from well–known scientists and intellectuals expressing doubts about various aspects of contemporary Big Bang cosmology. (Curiously, Ankerberg and Weldon actually provide some material for such an article- see pp.285–6 for quotes from Bird and Hoyle which say very clearly that the Big Bang theory is in bad shape.) If we are allowed to cast our net back to the 1950s, then we will be able to find lots of material which suggests that global cosmology is not and can not be a science. If we restrict our attention to the period after the discovery of the cosmic microwave background radiation (1965), we shall still be able to find plenty of quotes pointing to dissatisfaction with various aspects of Big Bang models. Even if we restrict our attention to the 1990s-after COBE-we can still find plenty of material from physicists casting doubt on the status of Big Bang cosmology. Non–theists who were so inclined could meet the creationist propaganda with anti–Big Bang propaganda of their own. But what would be the point? Well, there is a point here which is important for us. The scientific case for creation which is purportedly made in the book under review relies upon two kinds of scientific evidence: evidence from living systems (for design) and evidence from the cosmos at large (for origins). (There is also alleged evidence from the cosmos at large for design, but, in the interests of simplicity of exposition, I shall ignore this here.) In order to get evidence from living systems (for design), evolutionary theory needs to be defeated. But in order to get evidence from the cosmos at large (for origins), the Big Bang theory must be upheld. So, in order for the book to make its case, the contributors must be careful to ensure that the strategies and arguments which they use to cast doubt on, or to undermine, or to knockout, evolutionary theory do not also cast doubt on, or undermine, or knockout, Big Bang cosmology. But the point which I have just made is that, to the extent that the strategy which Ankerberg and Weldon employ succeeds against evolutionary theory, it is bound to succeed just as well against Big Bang cosmology. (As I noted above, it is very curious that Ankerberg and Weldon seem to concede that this is so. If their efforts seriously undermine evolutionary theory, then they also seriously undermine Ross's claims about astronomical evidence for origins, and they also seriously undermine the a posteriori version of the kalam cosmological argument which Moreland sketches in his introduction.) Now, of course, I would want to hang on to both evolutionary theory and Big Bang cosmology; hence, I would want to argue that Ankerberg and Weldon do not succeed in their attempt to cast doubt on evolutionary theory. However, it would be a major task to argue this in detail. Perhaps there is someone else out there who would like to take up this task? Some Concluding Remarks: 36 I began by saying that, in some respects, this book is better than run–of–the–mill attacks on evolutionary theory. One reason for saying this is that it relies on reasonably sophisticated views about the nature of scientific theory. (Much of Part 1-the articles by Moreland, Meyer and Dembski-is well–argued and well–thought–out.) Another reason for saying this is that, when conclusions are drawn from scientific data, those conclusions are often fairly careful. (For example, Bradley and Thaxton are careful to note that-in effect-their arguments at best support 'deistic science'.) Yet another reason is that in some places-particularly in the article by Wise-it is acknowledged that evolutionary theory is a very successful scientific theory. However, there are respects in which this book is very much like familiar anti– evolutionary literature. The appendix by Ankerberg and Weldon employs a familar creationist strategy which is pretty much beneath contempt. (In my remarks on that part of the book, I noted the possibility that one could use this strategy to 'discredit' the Big Bang theory. Of course, it would be even easier to use this strategy to 'discredit' Christianity-think of the wealth of resources provided by the memoirs of those who lost their faith, etc! Surely it is time that serious creationists stopped playing this silly game.) Moreover, the articles by Ross, and Oller and Omdahl, are rather poorly argued-the alleged connections between the data which is presented and the conclusions which are drawn are hard to fathom. Finally, the whole work has a tone of 'resentment' which seems to me to be quite unjustified. As I argued earlier, I see no reason at all to think that there is any kind of conspiracy against-any kind of methodology implicit in modern scientific practice which rules out-creationism. There are lots of well–funded research institutes and presses devoted to the task of developing and promoting creationism, and this work is being monitored by mainstream scientists, philosophers of science, and so on. If creationists manage to come up with good reasons to take their views seriously, then I have no doubt that their views will be taken seriously. (Likewise for astrologers, phrenologists, scientologists, and all those other denizens of the margins of science.) To date, howevere-as the current volume makes manifest-no such reasons have been forthcoming. (Perhaps my remarks in the previous paragraph are a little too concessive. There are good political reasons for separation of church and state: we all know about the problems which sectarian divisions can create in societies. Since there is no prospect that those who are prone to religion will agree on a single religion, there is good reason to keep the state secular. The same point applies-with bells on-to the curriculum in schools and universities. There is no prospect that those who are prone to 'theistic science' will agree on a single 'theistic science'-indeed, plainly, pretty much every religion will have its own 'theistic science'-so there is good reason to keep it out of the schools and universities. Moreover, since it is an important feature of science that it is a public institution which belongs to no sect or creed, there is good reason to keep it separated from religion as well. Of course, the more controversial questions here concern what should be done with evolutionary theory-but I shall not buy into those debates here.) One feature of the book which I have mentioned at various points is that it does not form a unified and coherent whole: the argument in one part very often pulls against the 37 38 argument in another part. This feature is, I think, related to a more fundamental drawback of the book, which is, once again, a common feature of the anti–evolution literature-viz. that it nowhere makes any attempt to give a detailed statement of the theory which is supposed to be in competition with evolutionary theory. Although many of the authors make claims about the ability of 'theistic science' to explain this or that, we are never given any clear statement of this wonderful theory-and so we have no way of even beginning to assess these claims. Even if this could be in part justified by the claim that 'theistic science' is in its infancy-a claim which is in any case in tension with the claim that 'methodological naturalism' is a recent invention which was used to overthrow well– established and long–standing 'theistic science'-it's hard to see how claims about what 'theistic science' can explain can be justified unless someone, somewhere, has a well– worked–out theory of this kind. This criticism is important, because, before a proper assessment of, say, evolutionary theory can be made, we need to know what the alternatives are. Those alternatives need to be subjected to the same kind of critical scrutiny to which creationists subject evolutionary theory before any claims about the possible superiority of creationism can be accepted. As any debater knows, it is much easier to win a debate if aren't required to state and defend your own position, and are free to spend all your time attacking your opponents' position. Since so much anti–evolutionary literature has now appeared, the negative part of the 'theistic science' programme is well–known; it's time for these people to give us their positive views in the same kind of textbook format in which evolutionary theory is often presented, so that these views can be subject to proper criticism.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Krzysztof azarski NOWO YTNA NAUKA I WIEDZA WED UG KARTEZJUSZA A je li pisz po francusku, j zykiem mojego kraju, raczej ni po acinie, który jest j zykiem moich nauczycieli, to dlatego, i mam nadzieje, e ci, którzy pos uguj si tylko swoim naturalnym i niezm conym rozumem, lepiej zdo aj os dzi moje mniemania ni ci, którzy wierz jeno staro ytnym ksi gom1. Kartezjusz cz sto jest nazywany ojcem nowo ytnego racjonalizmu, a nawet, ogólnie, nowo ytnej filozofii. Wraz z nim klasyczna i redniowieczna filozofia zostaje zepchni ta do defensywy, i powoli zaczyna by usuwana z g ównego nurtu my li filozoficznej. Cho nie by on jedynym wiod cym przedstawicielem nowo ytnej filozofii i nauki, który zainicjowa ten proces – wystarczy wspomnie wspó czesnych mu Francisa Bacona (1561–1626) i Galileo Galilei (1564–1642) – by z pewno ci tym w a nie, który wy o y swoje pogl dy z najwi ksz prostot i darem przekonywania, a jednocze nie zaprezentowa je jako kompletny system. Jego wydana w 1637 r. Rozprawa o metodzie (Discours de la methode) nie zachwyci a rodowisk akademickich, za to oddzia ywa a z niezwyk si na ówczesne elity, w tym na wp ywowe w salonach kobiety2. Co by o si i oryginalno ci tej rozprawy, e uj a ona tak wspó czesnych jej, jak i potomnych? Jak now koncepcj nauki i zdoby1 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa o metodzie, przek ad T. ele skiego-Boya, Kraków, 1952, s. 99. 2 Por.: A. Kenny (red.), The Oxford Illustrated History of Western Philosophy, Oxford 1997, s. 109; F.E. Sutcliffe, Introduction, [w:] Descartes, Discourse on Method and the Meditations, London 1968, s. 12–13. Z drugiej strony Rozprawa o metodzie bestsellerem nie by a, przynajmniej za ycia autora. Z 500 egzemplarzy pierwszego wydania, Kartezjusz otrzyma 200 kopii „autorskich", a pozosta e 300 przeznaczono na sprzeda , których nak ad nie wyczerpa si do jego mierci. F.E. Sutcliffe, Introduction, op. cit., s. 14. Rozprawa o metodzie wzbudzi a kontrowersje od momentu publikacji, wywo uj c protesty nie tylko rodowisk scholastycznych, ale równie zwolenników „nowej nauki". Nowo ytna nauka i wiedza wed ug Kartezjusza 193 wania wiedzy zaprezentowa w tej rozprawie Kartezjusz? Na czym polega o jej nowatorstwo? Czy argumenty i racje Kartezjusza mog jeszcze przemawia do nas, w przesz o trzy i pó wieku pó niej? Czy te tajemnic skuteczno ci jego oddzia ywania by o jedynie umiej tne wykorzystanie ducha epoki i zr czna retoryka skierowana do amatorów filozofii raczej ni specjalistów? * Cz owiek chce wiedzie , powiada Arystoteles w zdaniu otwieraj cym Metafizyk . Pragniemy wiedzie , jaki jest wiat oraz zna nasze w nim miejsce3. Pytania te s nazywane zwykle fundamentalnymi, gdy od zawsze towarzyszy y cz owiekowi. To one zrodzi y filozofi , która szuka odpowiedzi nie za pomoc religii, ale tych instrumentów poznania, które s przyrodzone cz owiekowi – zmys ów i rozumu. Pytania o wiat i nas samych prowadz do pyta o pocz tek – o arche, principium, zasad . S to ju pytania metafizyczne. Pragniemy wiedzie nie tylko, kim jeste my i jaki jest wiat, ale chcemy pozna te ich (pra)przyczyn oraz cel. Sk d wzi li my si , my i wiat, oraz dok d zmierzamy? To za , jak powiada Jan Pawe II w swej encyklice Fides at Ratio, prowadzi ostatecznie do pyta o absolut4. Zagadnienia te znajdowa y si przez dwa tysi ce lat w centrum uwagi filozofii, zarówno staro ytnej, jak i redniowiecznej. Radykalna zmiana nast pi a dopiero w czasach wczesnonowo ytnych. Pytania metafizyczne nigdy nie prowadz do jednoznacznych odpowiedzi. Podczas gdy nauki ci le oraz przyrodnicze poznaj swoje zasady i kumuluj wiedz , metafizyka, jako dyscyplina spekulatywna, zdaje si drepta wci w tym samym miejscu, w pó nym redniowieczu pogr aj c si w coraz bardziej sterylnych i abstrakcyjnych dysputach. Maj ca swe ród o w rewolucji naukowej, filozofia nowo ytna jest buntem wobec takiego stanu rzeczy, a zw aszcza wobec dominacji zagadnie metafizycznych w nauce. Bacon odrzuci je ca kowicie. Prawdziwa nauka to poznanie empiryczne oparte na do wiadczeniu i indukcyjnym rozumowaniu, wiod ce od szczegó u do ogó u. Celem nauki jest wi c poznanie porz dku naturalnego oraz panowanie nad nim. Kartezjusz zaatakuje tradycyjn metafizyk z innego bieguna: poznania racjonalnego, które ma prowadzi do wiedzy pewnej i niezachwianej (certaine et indubitable), a nie do nieweryfikowalnych spekulacji. 3 W t umaczeniu T. ele nika Metafizyki Arystotelesa (Lublin 1986) zdanie to brzmi „Wszystkim ludziom wrodzone jest pragnienie poznania". 4 Por. Jan Pawe II, Fides et Ratio, 27, [w:] Encykliki Ojca wi tego Jana Paw a II, Kraków 1999, vol. II, s. 850. KRZYSZTOF AZARSKI194 Postawa buntu wobec redniowiecznego dziedzictwa jest dzieckiem renesansu. Z postaw t ci le czy si indywidualizm, który – jak zauwa y Alexis de Tocqueville – jest dzieckiem reformacji: W XVI w. twórcy reformacji podporz dkowuj indywidualnemu rozumowi niektóre dogmaty dawnej wiary, ale w dalszym ci gu jest niedopuszczalna dyskusja nad pozosta ymi. W XVII w. Bacon w dziedzinie nauk przyrodniczych, Kartezjusz za w dziedzinie ci lej filozofii znosz zastane formu y, niszcz si tradycji i obalaj autorytet scholastycznych szkó . Uogólniaj c t metod , filozofowie XVIII w. poddaj przedmiot wszystkich wierze indywidualnemu os dowi ka dego cz owieka. Któ nie zauwa y, e Luter, Kartezjusz i Wolter pos u yli si t sam metod i e ró ni ich wy cznie to, jak szeroki zalecali czyni z niej u ytek5. Je li bunt we wczesnonowo ytnej filozofii jest owocem renesansu, a indywidualizm dzieckiem reformacji, niezwyk a pewno siebie, która cechowaa reprezentantów „nowej nauki", wydaje si by ich oryginalnym wk adem w rozwój filozofii (Burke nazwie to pó niej arogancj ). Ju Bacon ma wybujae ego i proponuje ca kowicie nowe podej cie do nauk naturalnych. Kartezjusz wznosi wiar w pot g ludzkiego rozumu ( ci le mówi c, swego w asnego rozumu) na wy yny dot d niespotykane: ca o dorobku wcze niejszych pokole zostaje zakwestionowana, a na jej miejsce pojawia si nowa nauka, maj ca prowadzi do pe nego poznania wiata i zapanowania nad nim. Przekonany swej unikalno ci, Kartezjusz nie wie jeszcze, e znajdzie godnych siebie na ladowców, d ug seri my licieli – twórców systemów – z których ka dy b dzie przekonany, e w zasadniczy sposób zmienia filozofi . * René Descartes ( ac. Cartesius, a po polsku Kartezjusz), urodzi si w 1596 r. w miasteczku La Haye (dzi nosz cym nazw Descartes) niedaleko Tours, w rodzinie, która w a nie naby a szlachectwo poprzez kupno urz du (tak zwane szlachectwo sukni)6. Gdy mia dziesi lat rozpocz nauk w jezuickim collegium po o onym w nieodleg ym La Flèche. Collegium mia o tradycyjny program oparty na studiach antycznej klasyki i scholastycznej metafizyki, za nauki ci le traktowa o jako nauki praktyczne, pomocne np. w budowie 5 A. de Tocqueville, O Demokracji w Ameryce, t um. M. Król, Warszawa 1976, s. 272–273. Por. A. Flew, An Introduction to Western Philosophy, London 1995, s. 275, 283. 6 Szkic biografii Kartezjusza zaczerpni ty z: F.E. Sutcliffe, Introduction, op. cit., s. 7–14; A. Kenny (red.), The Oxford Illustrated History..., op. cit., s. 110, 126–127; B.F. Finkel, Biography. René Descartes, „American Mathematical Monthly", 1898, vol. 5, nr 8/9, s. 191–195. Nowo ytna nauka i wiedza wed ug Kartezjusza 195 fortyfikacji. Kartezjusz sp dzi tam osiem lat, wysoko oceniaj c poziom swej szko y i uczelni, nawet je li krytykowa rodzaj wiedzy, jaki tam naby . Mimo fascynacji matematyk , dalsze studia kontynuowa na prawie, zdobywaj c dyplom prawniczy w 1616 r. na uniwersytecie w Poitiers. Po sko czeniu nauki zaci gn si do armii (1617 r.), zajmuj c si jednak bardziej samodzielnymi studiami matematycznymi ni wojaczk . Walki religijne rozpoczynaj ce wojn trzydziestoletni (1618–1648) najwyra niej nie poci ga y Kartezjusza, tote w 1621 r. zrezygnowa ze s u by i przeniós si do Holandii, gdzie – oprócz ostatnich miesi cy – sp dzi reszt ycia. W swoich czasach Kartezjusz uchodzi przede wszystkim za matematyka, a szerzej uczonego nauk cis ych, dokonuj c w nich wielu wa nych odkry . Uwa any by za twórc geometrii analitycznej, prekursora bada prowadz cych do powstania rachunku ró niczkowego i ca kowego oraz odkrywc zasad za amania wiat a7. Do czterdziestego roku ycia nie opublikowa jednak adnego ze swych dzie , a matematycznym geniuszem by tylko w ród przyjació i znajomych. Jedn z pierwszych prac, któr napisa , ale nie opublikowa , by y Regulae ad directionem ingenii (Zasady kierowania umys em, 1628). Przez nast pne pi lat przygotowywa dzie o, które opieraj c si na ówczesnej wiedzy, a zw aszcza na nowej teorii mechaniki nieba Galileusza, mia o zast pi Sum teologiczn w. Tomasza. Dzie o gotowe by o ju w 1633 r., ale Kartezjusz, jak zawsze ostro ny, nie zdecydowa si na jego publikacj po tym, gdy dowiedzia si o pot pieniu Galileusza przez Inkwizycj . Le Monde ( wiat) ukaza si dopiero po jego mierci (1664 r.). Nast pnym wa nym dzie em filozoficznym by y Meditationes de Prima Philosophia (Medytacje o filozofii pierwszej, 1641), które mia y wykaza , e jego metafizyka osi gn a pewno matematyki, a zatem jest wy sza ni scholastyka8. Kolejne prace to Principia Philosophiae (Zasady filozofii, 1644), w du ej mierze powtarzaj ce metafizyk Medytacji, ale uzupe nione o opis struktury wszech wiata i relacji cia a do ducha. Ostatnim dzie em by a rozprawa zatytu owana Les passions de l'âme (Nami tno ci duszy, 1649), powsta a jako rezultat korespondencji z ksi niczk El biet , córk elektora Palatynatu i siostrzenic Karola I Stuarta. W 1649 r. Kartezjusz dostaje zaproszenie do przybycia na dwór królowej szwedzkiej Krystyny Wazówny (p. 1632–1654). S awa Rozprawy o metodzie 7 Zainteresowania i odkrycia Kartezjusza w matematyce, fizyce, optyce i mechanice obejmuj znacznie szerszy zakres ni tu wspomniany. Por. has o „Descartes René" w: Encyklopedia PWN, http://encyklopedia.pwn.pl/index.php?module=haslo&id=3891981 [dost p 4.III.2013]. 8 A. Kenny (red.), The Oxford Illustrated History..., op. cit., s. 110; F.E. Sutcliffe, Introduction, op. cit., s. 10. KRZYSZTOF AZARSKI196 by a ju tak du a, e sawantka na tronie chcia a j lepiej pozna z ust samego jej twórcy. Kartezjusz, przyzwyczajony do niezale no ci, waha si . Da si jednak skusi perspektyw wysokich zarobków, gdy – jak zwierza si w li cie do przyjaciela – kilka lat bada oraz dostateczne rodki na przeprowadzanie eksperymentów pozwol mu odkry nierozwi zane problemy fizjologii i znale lekarstwo na wszystkie choroby9. Jak wida , on sam by wi cie przekonany o cudownej skuteczno ci swej metody. Lekcje z królow okaza y si jednak katastrof . Musia je zaczyna o pi tej rano w zimnym, le ogrzanym pa acu. Ze zgroz odkry te , e królowa codziennie studiuje grek , czyli traci czas na zaj cie nie daj ce adnych namacalnych korzy ci. Od dzieci stwa nawyk y do pó nego wstawania i cieplejszego klimatu, Kartezjusz wytrzyma niedogodno ci ycia w Szwecji tylko przez pó roku; w lutym 1650 r. zapalenie p uc zako czy o jego ziemsk drog . Co za zaskakuj cy koniec! I co za strata dla ludzko ci wci cierpi cej na nieuleczalne choroby. * Rozprawa o metodzie to jeden z najs ynniejszych tekstów napisanych po francusku, b d cy jednocze nie symbolem francuskiej klarowno ci, lekko ci i ironii. Jest to dzie o zaskakuj ce, zarówno swoj struktur , jak i tre ci . Zacznijmy od struktury. W oryginalnym wydaniu Rozprawa stanowi a wst p do trzech prac – o za amaniu wiat a, geometrii i mechanice nieba (ale zatytuowana Meteorologia) – które by y rozdzia ami niepublikowanego Le Monde. Prace te mia y rzekomo ilustrowa praktyczn stron zastosowania „metody" Kartezjusza, a faktycznie by y prób sprawdzenia reakcji w adz na jego „now nauk ". Rozprawa charakteryzuje si dziwaczn i niejasn budow . Rozdzia I zawiera autobiografi Kartezjusza oraz przerobion wersj jego niepublikowanych Zasad kierowania umys em10. Rozdzia II wprowadza nas do jego metody, natomiast rozdzia III jej nie rozwija, ale niespodziewanie skupia si na zasadach etycznych, którymi kieruje si autor. Prawdopodobnie powsta on najpó niej i mia s u y jako tarcza przeciwko prze ladowaniom ze strony w adz. Rozdzia IV powraca do w tku przerwanego w rozdziale II. Zawiera on s ynn zasad cogito, oraz jej konsekwencje, czyli jest wst pem do kartezja skiej metafizyki. Rozdzia V jest streszczeniem niektórych pogl dów zaprezentowanych w Le Monde, dotycz cych kosmosu i funkcjonowania 9 A. Kenny (red.), The Oxford Illustrated History..., op. cit., s. 127. 10 D. Garber, Descartes and Method in 1637, „PSA: Proceedings of the Biennial Meeting of the Philosophy of Science Association", 1988, vol. 2, s. 226–227; F.E. Sutcliffe, Introduction, op. cit., s. 9, 12. Nowo ytna nauka i wiedza wed ug Kartezjusza 197 ludzkiego cia a, ale z sam „metod " maj cy niewiele wspólnego. Wreszcie rozdzia VI, podejmuj cy ponownie tematyk metody, jest tekstem, który pierwotnie by wst pem do pracy o geometrii11. Rozprawa o metodzie cho napisana wartkim i czytelnym j zykiem, zbija z tropu, zaskakuje i pozostawia czytelnika bez klucza co do przekazu ca o ci. Czy by jego cogito i cztery proste zasady badania rzeczywisto ci w rozdziale II by y t jego s awn „metod "?12 T , która mia a doprowadzi do szybkiego poznania tajemnic wiata? Przyjrzyjmy si zatem dok adnie tekstowi Rozprawy i zobaczmy, co tak naprawd da si wywnioskowa z jej tre ci. Kartezjusz otwiera swoje dzie o zaskakuj cym, cho niew tpliwie pochlebnym dla zwyk ych miertelników, stwierdzeniem: Rozs dek jest to rzecz ze wszystkich na wiecie najlepiej rozdzielona, ka dy bowiem s dzi, e jest w ni dobrze zaopatrzony, i nawet ci, których we wszystkim innym najtrudniej jest zadowoli , nie zwykli pragn go wi cej ni li posiadaj . Nie jest prawdopodobne, aby si wszyscy mylili co do tego; raczej wiadczy to, i zdolno dobrego s dzenia i rozró niania prawdy od fa szu, co nazywamy w a nie rozs dkiem lub rozumem, jest z natury równa u wszystkich ludzi. Tak wi c rozbie no mniema nie pochodzi st d, aby jedni byli roztropniejsi od drugich, ale jedynie st d, i prowadzimy my li nasze rozmaitymi drogami i nie rozwa amy tych samych rzeczy13. Pomijaj c lekki sarkazm w pierwszym zdaniu, mo na by rzec, e w akapicie tym Kartezjusz piecze dwie pieczenie na jednym ogniu: z jednej strony schlebia czytelnikowi i zdobywa jego sympati , przekonuj c go, e posiada rozs dek, czy rozum, nie gorszy od nikogo innego, a z drugiej ju wskazuje na podstawowy cel swej Rozprawy. Ró nice w postrzeganiu rzeczywisto ci i s dach wynikaj ze stosowania niew a ciwych metod lub nieporozumie , a nie z tego, e niektórzy ludzie maj wi cej rozs dku (lub rozumu). Warto logiczna cytowanego tekstu jest w tpliwa i by aby na pewno zakwestionowana w rodowisku akademickim, natomiast przeci tnego czytelnika ujmowa a i oczarowywa a14. W ten sposób dowiadujemy si , dlaczego Kartezjusz, a pó niej i jego nast pcy, kierowali swe dzie a do szerszego kr gu czytelników, 11 F.E. Sutcliffe, Introduction, op. cit., s. 11–12, 15–16; A. Flew, An Introduction..., op. cit., s. 275–276. 12 Por. D. Garber, Descartes and Method in 1637, op. cit., s. 225, 228. Garber argumentuje, e Kartezjusz sam lekcewa y swoj „metod ", a w ka dym razie nie zaznacza w innych dzie ach jej stosowania. 13 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa..., op. cit., s. 20. 14 A. Kenny (red.), The Oxford Illustrated History..., op. cit., s. 107–109. KRZYSZTOF AZARSKI198 a nie rodowiska uczonych, oraz dlaczego przedk adali j zyki narodowe nad uczon acin . Wra enie schlebiania czytelnikowi nie wiadomemu tych – jak dzi powiedzieliby my – promocyjnych zabiegów pog bia si , gdy w nast pnych zdaniach autor przyznaje, e on sam posiada umys nie doskonalszy ni ogó , a nawet, e zazdro ci niektórym ludziom bystro ci ich umys u, oraz gdy potwierdza, e b dy w poznaniu rozumowym nie mog dotyczy istoty (w oryginale forme), a tylko „cech przypadkowych". Dwuznaczno ostatniego stwierdzenia wydaje si nieprzypadkowa. Termin „forma" wywodzi si od Arystotelesa i ma ci le okre lon konotacj . Kartezjusz t umaczy to jako „natura" (nature), co jest ogólnie poprawne, ale i niepe ne. Inaczej zrozumie j laik, a inaczej znawca Arystotelesa czy scholastyki. Forma jest „istot ", jak to odda polski t umacz, ale te rodzajem energii, która stanowi przyczyn danej rzeczy, oraz nadaje jej kszta t i cel15. Czy tak zwykle rozumiemy termin „istota" lub „natura", i czy tak to rozumia czytelnik wspó czesny Kartezjuszowi? W dalszej cz ci rozdzia u I Kartezjusz rozwija w tek autobiograficzny. Informuje, e od dzieci stwa karmiono go nauk , obiecuj c nabycie „jasnej i pewnej wiedzy o wszystkim, co jest po yteczne dla ycia" (claire et assurée de tout ce qui est utile à la vie). By pilnym uczniem i czyta to, co powinien; poznawa j zyki, by mie wgl d do staro ytnej m dro ci; wiedzia , e „czytanie wszelkich dobrych ksi ek jest niby rozmow z najgodniejszymi lud mi minionych wieków..., w której ods aniaj nam jedynie swe najcenniejsze my li". Uczy si te retoryki i poezji, jak równie matematyki, któr upodoba sobie szczególnie, oraz teologii i filozofii. A jednak po uko czeniu studiów – powiada Kartezjusz – „czu em si ... udr czony tyloma w tpliwo ciami i b dami, i zdawa o mi si , e usi uj c si kszta ci , nie osi gn em adnej innej korzy ci jak t , i coraz bardziej ods ania em sobie moj niewiedz . A przecie by em w jednej z najs awniejszych szkó w Europie"16. Kartezjusza oburza o, e matematyka, której podstawy „s tak mocne i sta e", nie tworzy fundamentu nauki, a jest ni filozofia, która nie ma „ adnej rzeczy, o któr by si nie spierano, która by wi c tym samym nie by a w tpliwa"17. Z ca ej dotychczasowej nauki nie znajduje on nic godnego zaufania, poza matematyk i teologi . Wybór matematyki jest oczywisty i szczery, natomiast wybór teologii zdumiewaj cy. Z lekka wyczuwaln ironi Kartezjusz t umaczy to tym, e teologia dotyczy prawd objawionych, które 15 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa..., op. cit., s. 21. 16 Ibidem, s. 23–24. 17 Ibidem, s. 24–25. Nowo ytna nauka i wiedza wed ug Kartezjusza 199 „przekraczaj nasz zdolno pojmowania", tote nie o miela si „podda ich memu w t emu rozumowaniu". Do tego potrzeba otrzyma „nadzwyczajn pomoc nieba i by wi cej ni cz owiekiem"18. W rezultacie mamy ju zarys „metody" Kartezjusza, ale bez wyra nego wskazania, e to o ni chodzi. Polega mia aby ona na ca kowitym odrzuceniu dotychczasowego dorobku, oprócz matematyki i teologii oraz, niespodziewanej konkluzji rozdzia u I, e jednostka mo e lepiej pozna prawd , która jej dotyczy, ni „uczony w spekulacjach niedaj cych adnego skutku"19. Ta ostatnia my l zostanie rozwini ta dopiero w rozdziale nast pnym, gdy opis metody b dzie pe niejszy. Spróbujmy zebra i oceni to, co dot d powiedzia nam Kartezjusz. Jego do wiadczenie ze studiów w La Flèche nie jest do wiadczeniem unikatowym wbrew temu, co powiada nam autor. Odkrywanie w asnej niewiedzy w procesie kszta cenia jest raczej zjawiskiem normalnym. Unikatowa jest reakcja, a nie samo zjawisko. Dla porównania przypomnijmy, jak dwa tysi ce lat wczeniej zareagowa na to samo Sokrates. Tajemniczy i zadziwiaj cy wiat nie jest do ko ca poznawalny. Jednak „wiem, e nic nie wiem" nie frustruje Sokratesa ani nie popycha go do buntu wobec rzeczywisto ci. Odwrotnie, z jednej strony przyjmuje on postaw akceptacji ludzkiej kondycji, a z drugiej – utwierdza si w przekonaniu, e poszukiwanie prawdy jest najwa niejszym celem ludzkiego ycia. Sokrates nie ucieka te przed konsekwencjami g oszenia prawd, w które wierzy . Twardo powiada, e nigdy nie zrobi nic niegodnego, aby ratowa ycie, tote nie zamierza u ywa sztuczek, aby odwróci wyrok s du nad nim. Jak e ró ne jest to od postawy Kartezjusza. Ten ostatni buntuje si i odrzuca mo liwo pogodzenia si z rzeczywisto ci . Jest to wi c postawa bli sza prometejskiej. Ukryt prawd nale y wykra bogom, niezale nie od metod, i cz owiek jest w stanie tego dokona . Jak w kapsu ce, postawa Kartezjusza – bunt oraz wiara w pot g indywidualnego rozumu – zawiera „kod" czasów nowo ytnych czy, szerzej, nowoczesno ci w ogóle. By mo e to obja nia, dlaczego Rozprawa, wbrew swej mia ko ci, wci zdaje si rzuca urok na wspó czesnego czytelnika20. 18 Ibidem, s. 26. 19 Ibidem, s. 28. 20 Por. A. de Tocqueville, O Demokracji w Ameryce, op. cit., s. 273. Wed ug Tocqueville'a, metoda Kartezjusza jest ze swej natury demokratyczna: „Zosta a odkryta w epoce, w której ludzie zacz li stawa si sobie równi i upodabnia do siebie. Rozpowszechni si mog a dopiero w epoce, w której mo liwo ci sta y si niemal równe i ludzie niemal identyczni". Z drugiej strony, nie wszyscy odbieraj go wspó cze nie z entuzjazmem. Szczególnej krytyce zosta poddany przez rodowiska feministyczne i postmoderniKRZYSZTOF AZARSKI200 Rozdzia II zaczyna si od przywo ania ol nienia, którego Kartezjusz dozna , gdy jeszcze s u y w wojsku. Jego warto logiczna jest wi cej ni w tpliwa, za to jako argument retoryczny wietnie s u y celom naszego autora. Otó u wiadomi on sobie, e „dzie a posk adane z wielu osobno powsta ych cz ci i wykonywane r k rozmaitych mistrzów mniej s doskona e ni te, nad którymi pracowa tylko jeden cz owiek". Zauwa y te , e podobnie jest z budow miasta czy prawodawstwem (jeden, np. Likurg w Sparcie, versus wielu) czy nawet religi (objawion versus wszystkie inne)21. I wreszcie, „ e wszelka wiedza ksi kowa, przynajmniej ta, której racje s jedynie prawdopodobne i na które nie ma adnego dowodu, jako e z o y a si ona i uros a stopniowo z mniema wielu rozmaitych osób, nie jest tak bliska prawdy jak proste i nieuczone rozumowania cz owieka rozs dnego dotycz ce rzeczy, jakie mu si nastr czaj ". Wywnioskowa wi c, e musi odrzuci ca kowicie to, co zbudowano do tej pory, i zacz wszystko od nowa, bez próby zmiany i ulepszania tego, co by o22. Wykonawszy ten mia y krok odrzucenia, Kartezjusz jakby przestraszy si w asnej odwagi, i na nast pnych stronach wycofuje si z cz ci tego, co dopiero by napisa . Podkre la, e jego odrzucenie nie dotyczy tak wielkich cia jak pa stwa. Te ostatnie „zbyt trudne s do podniesienia, skoro s raz obalone". Co do ich niedoskona o ci „je li je posiadaj ", to albo z agodzi a je praktyka, albo s do unikni cia dzi ki przezorno ci, albo niedogodno ci obecne s bardziej zno ne ni ich zmiana23. Dlatego te Kartezjusz nie pochwala „owych natur m tnych i niespokojnych", które d do zmian za wszelk cen . Na takie „szale stwa" z pewno ci nie ma miejsca w tym „dzie ku", które pisze24. A w ogóle, to autor zawsze stawa w szeregu tych skromnych ludzi, którzy uwa aj , e „s mniej zdolni do odró nienia prawdy od fa szu ni inni". To ostatnie stwierdzenie wydaje si sta w sprzeczno ci ze zdaniem rozpoczynaj cym Rozpraw , przy czym tutaj autor mówi o postawie, a tam o darze natury równo rozdzielonym wobec wszystkich. Wra enie pokr tno ci pog bia si jeszcze bardziej, gdy w nast pnym akapicie Kartezjusz szydzi, e „nie mo na wymy li nic tak dziwacznego i ma o godnego wiary, czego styczne, por. S.B. Smith, An Exemplary Life: The Case of René Descartes, „Review of Metaphysics", 2004, vol. 57, nr 3, s. 572. 21 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa..., op. cit., s. 30–31. 22 Ibidem, s. 32. 23 Ibidem, s. 32–33. 24 Ibidem, s. 33–34. Nowo ytna nauka i wiedza wed ug Kartezjusza 201 by kiedy nie powiedzia który filozof". Czy odrzuca on wi c dotychczasow nauk , czy jej nie odrzuca – tego wyra nie nam nie mówi25. Ostatecznie Kartezjusz stwierdza, e tak jak ostro nie i wolno idzie „cz owiek, który kroczy sam i w ród ciemno ci", tak on postanawia post powa w swoim rozumowaniu. Je li b dzie posuwa si powoli, to przynajmniej uniknie upadku. Po dalszych zdaniach, pe nych dwuznaczno ci i hiperboli, Kartezjusz wreszcie formu uje zr by swej metody: cztery proste kroki analizowania problemu, które stosuje si w nauce prawdopodobnie od zawsze. S to: (1) nieprzyjmowanie niczego za prawdziwe na zasadzie autorytetu, po piechu lub uprzedze , ale zapoznawanie si z problemem, tak, aby móc wyda os d samemu, i tylko w odniesieniu do tego, co jawi si nam „tak jasno i wyra nie" (claire et distincte), e nie mamy co do tego adnych w tpliwo ci; (2) podzielenie ka dego problemu na jak najmniejsze cz ci i rozpatrywanie ich osobno; (3) stopniowe analizowanie problemu, od jego najprostszych elementów do bardziej skomplikowanych, pami taj c te o zwi zkach mi dzy nimi; i wreszcie (4) dokonanie przegl du ca o ci, dla sprawdzenia, czy gdzie nie pope ni o si b du. Metod t Kartezjusz porównuje do „d ugiego a cucha racji prostych i atwych, którymi geometrzy zwykli si pos ugiwa , aby doj do najtrudniejszych dowodów"26. Mogliby my jednak zapyta , czy za o enie, e rzeczy najprostsze (te, których nie mo na ju podzieli na drobniejsze cz ci) zawieraj w sobie pe ne wyja nienie rzeczy z o onych, jest uprawnione? Innymi s owy, czy obja niaj c ró ne cz ci problemu, zdobywamy ca kowity wgl d w jego ca o ?27 T spraw nasz my liciel zdaje si ju nie zaprz ta swej uwagi. Kartezja ska metoda szczegó owej analizy pozostaje aktualna i stosowana jest do dzi jako jedna z podstawowych metod badania rzeczywisto ci. Mo na by jednak zapyta , có jest w niej tak nowatorskiego, co mia oby prowadzi do rewolucyjnych odkry w ca ej nauce, a nie tylko z geometrii, sk d zosta a wzi ta? Kartezjusz zapewnia nas, e tak w a nie jest. On do wiadczy jej skuteczno ci w rozwi zywaniu problemów matematycznych i geometrycznych, których wcze niej nie umia rozwi za : ...w ci gu dwóch czy trzech miesi cy, jakie obróci em na ich rozpatrywanie, zaczynaj c od najprostszych i najogólniejszych i w ka dej prawdzie odkrytej znajduj c regu , która mi s u y a potem do znalezienia innych, nie tylko upora em si z wieloma rzeczami, które zda y si wprzódy bardzo trudne, ale wyda o mi si tak e, e pod koniec nawet w tych, 25 Ibidem, s. 35. 26 Ibidem, s. 37–38. 27 Por. J.H. Hallowell, Main Currents in Modern Political Thought, Lanham 1984, s. 40. KRZYSZTOF AZARSKI202 których nie zna em, mog oznaczy , jakimi rodkami i do jakiego punktu mo liwe jest ich rozwi zanie28. Entuzjazm Kartezjusza staje si bardziej zrozumia y, gdy u wiadomimy sobie, e geometria analityczna, któr stworzy , jest najprawdopodobniej t nauk , za pomoc której, jak wierzy , mo na zdefiniowa i opisa wiat matematycznie. Je li za o ymy, e natura ( wiat, kosmos) sk ada si z rzeczy posiadaj cych geometryczne kszta ty, i e inne w a ciwo ci tych e rzeczy te mo na wyrazi matematycznie (ci ar, rozmiar, ilo , etc.), to taka mo liwo istnia aby29. St d zapewne przekonanie Kartezjusza, e wielkie odkrycia s w zasi gu jego r ki. I chocia jemu nie uda o si tego dokona , to zarazi swych nast pców w nadchodz cym wieku „rozumu" swoj wiar w pot g rozumu, zami owaniem do prostych, „geometrycznych" rozwi za oraz pedanteri w ich stosowaniu. Jak wspomniano, rozdzia III jest po wi cony etyce. Etyki tej nie nale y raczej traktowa na serio, w przeciwnym razie kompromitowa aby naszego matematyka-filozofa jeszcze bardziej ni wtedy, gdy uznamy j za fikcj . Kartezjusz doda ten rozdzia do Rozprawy zapewne dochodz c do wniosku, e jego rytua bicia czo em przed w adz , odprawiony w rozdziale II, jest niewystarczaj cy. Zasady etyczne, które tu opisuje, s „tymczasowe", i – jak powiada – b d go obowi zywa tylko na okres przej ciowy, gdy podwa a on istniej cy porz dek. Na ten czas „przebudowy domu" zobowi zuje si on kierowa nast puj cymi czterema zasadami: (1) „by pos usznym prawom i obyczajom mego kraju, zachowuj c stale religi ..., a we wszelkiej innej rzeczy kierowa si mniemaniami najbardziej umiarkowanymi i najbardziej oddalonymi od wszelkiej przesady"; (2) „by mo liwie najbardziej nieugi tym ... w dzia aniu i trzyma si mniema nawet najbardziej w tpliwych, skoro ju si raz na nie zda em", po to, aby unikn sytuacji ludzi zagubionych w lesie i b dz cych w ko o; (3) „przemóc raczej siebie ni los i raczej odmieni moje pragnienia ni porz dek wiata, i przyzwyczai si ... do prze wiadczenia, i nie ma nic co by by o ca kowicie w naszej mocy, prócz naszej my li"; i wreszcie (4) „obróci ca e ycie na kszta cenie mego rozumu i posuwanie si ... w poznaniu prawdy, trzymaj c si metody, jak sobie przypisa em"30. Zade28 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa..., op. cit., s. 40. 29 Por. N. Melchert, The Great Conversation: A Historical Introduction to Philosophy, Mountain View 1995, s. 293. 30 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa..., op. cit., s. 42–47. W ród znawców Kartezjusza nie ma sporów co do warto ci jego „tymczasowej" etyki. Nie traktuje si jej serio. Smith powiada, e Nowo ytna nauka i wiedza wed ug Kartezjusza 203 klarowawszy w ten sposób swoj lojalno wobec wszelkiej w adzy, Kartezjusz zdaje si by wreszcie gotowy do szerszej ods ony swoich pogl dów. Kolejny IV rozdzia zawiera pe ne przedstawienie metody Kartezjusza wraz z podwalinami jego metafizyki. Jest to zapewne najbardziej istotna cz ca ej Rozprawy, podczas gdy pozosta e s u jedynie budowaniu stosownej atmosfery dla prezentacji tego odkrycia, oraz skrywaniu radykalizmu jego przes ania. Có zatem zawiera ten fragment Rozprawy? Poniewa celem Kartezjusza jest – jak twierdzi – poszukiwanie prawdy, która jest poza wszelk w tpliwo ci (indubitable), postanawia uzna za ca kowicie fa szywe (absolument faux) wszelkie opinie, co do których ma nawet najmniejszy powód, aby w nie pow tpiewa . Dalej, poniewa zmys y s zawodne i przez nie bierzemy z udzenie za prawd ; poniewa pope niamy b dy w rozumowaniu nawet w najprostszych sprawach geometrycznych; i wreszcie, poniewa nie mo emy zaufa naszym my lom, postanawia on przyj , „i wszystko, co kiedykolwiek dotar o do mego umys u, nie bardziej jest prawdziwe ni li z udzenia senne" (non plus vraies que les illusions de mes songes). W ten sposób, pozbawiony jakiejkolwiek wiedzy, czy to zmys owej czy rozumowej, Kartezjusz znajduje si w kompletnej nico ci. Mo na by powiedzie , e nie ma tam nic. A jednak, w tej kompletnej pustce natychmiast odkrywa on podstawow prawd : „my l , wi c jestem" (je pense, donc je suis), w zlatynizowanej formie znan jako cogito ergo sum31. Cho sceptycyzm poznawczy Kartezjusza jest tu skrajny – pow tpiewa on bowiem nawet w najbardziej oczywiste doznania i potoczne obserwacje ka dego cz owieka – to jednak niewykluczone, e mo e on by tylko udawany. Od po owy XVI w. we Francji na dobre zago ci sceptycyzm i Kartezjusz, znajduj c w cogito to, co jest poza w tpliwo ci , by mo e chcia da mu odpór32. Z drugiej strony nie wszyscy s tak askawi dla Kartezjusza i domiKartezjusz jest perhaps the greatest philosopher never to have written a systematic work on ethical or political matters (S.B. Smith, An Exemplary Life..., op. cit., s. 574). 31 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa..., op. cit., s. 52–53. 32 Nast pi o to po przet umaczeniu w 1569 r. na acin dzie a greckiego my liciela Sextusa Empiricusa z II w. po Chr. Sextus nie wyró nia si oryginalno ci , natomiast spisa idee greckich sceptyków, przede wszystkim ich ojca za o yciela Pyrrho z Elis (ok. 360–270 r. przed Chr.). Idee sceptyków wywar y wielki wp yw we Francji (m.in. na Montaigne'a). Por. A. Flew, An Introduction..., op. cit., s. 277; S.B. Smith, An Exemplary Life..., op. cit., s. 773–774. List zwolenników tezy, e sceptycyzm Kartezjusza nie by do ko ca prawdziwy, wymienia: R.A. Watson, Descartes Knows Nothing, „History of Philosophy", 1984, vol. 1, nr 4, s. 411, przypis 17. KRZYSZTOF AZARSKI204 nuj ca interpretacja jego my li przyjmuje, e jego sceptycyzm jest prawdziwy, a nie udawany33. Kartezjusz jest niezwykle zadowolony ze znalezienia archimedesowskiego punktu oparcia dla wiedzy – tej jednej jedynej rzeczy, w któr nie mo emy w tpi . Jego duma jest tak wielka, e zapomina wspomnie , i jego odkrycie jest zapo yczeniem (czy wr cz kopiowaniem) ze w. Augustyna34. Z faktu, e my li i jest, czyni on „pierwsz zasad filozofii", a nast pnie zauwa a, i do tego nie jest mu nic innego potrzebne: „Pozna em st d, e jestem substancj , której ca istot , czyli natur , jest my lenie, i która, aby istnie , nie potrzebuje adnego miejsca ani nie zale y od adnej rzeczy materialnej; tak, i owo ja, to znaczy dusza ... jest ca kowicie odr bna od cia a, a nawet jest atwiejsza do poznania ni ono, i e gdyby nawet ono nie istnia o, by aby i tak wszystkim, czym jest"35. Kartezjusz odkrywa, e jest „substancj my l c ", ale jednocze nie zauwaa, e w tpi, a zatem, e nie jest doskona y. To za prowadzi go do znalezienia nast pnej rzeczy w pustce, do której sam si zap dzi , mianowicie idei istoty doskona ej – Boga. Poniewa taka idea nie mog a wzi si z nico ci, musiaa zosta „pomieszczona" w jego my li przez t istot doskona . Dlatego musi istnie jeszcze inna istota ni sama substancja my l ca. Gdyby bowiem nasz autor stworzy si sam, to uczyni by si „niesko czonym, wiecznym niezmiennym, wszystkowiedz cym, wszechmog cym", a takim nie jest, skoro w tpi36. Istnienie tej istoty jest konieczne, wynikaj ce z samej definicji istoty doskonalej. W ten sposób dochodzimy do s ynnego ontologicznego dowodu Kartezjusza na istnienie Boga. Tak jak suma k tów w trójk cie musi zawsze 33 R.A. Watson, Descartes Knows Nothing, op. cit., s. 407–408; M. Grene, Descartes and Skepticism, „Review of Metaphysics", 1999, vol. 52, nr 3, s. 553–571. Grene dzieli sceptycyzm na praktyczny i teoretyczny. Staro ytny sceptycyzm, o ywiony w XVI-wiecznej Francji, uczy nieufno ci wobec praktycznej strony ycia, i tym samym ostro no ci w rozwa aniach teoretycznych. Sceptycyzm Kartezjusza nie dotyczy praktycznych stron ycia – tu by on pragmatyczny – ale teoretycznych. W tej dziedzinie Kartezjusz by skrajnym sceptykiem, znacznie dalej id cym ni sceptycyzm klasyczny. 34 W Pa stwie bo ym, ksi ga XI, roz. 26, II Augustyn powiada: „jestem pewny, e jestem, e wiem, e jestem, i e raduj si z tego, e jestem i wiem o tym". Na pytanie, czy si jednak nie myli, odpowiada: „Je li si myl , to jestem. Bowiem, je li kto nie istnieje to w aden sposób nie mo e si myli . Zatem, jestem, je li si myl ". 35 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa..., op. cit., s. 53–54. Rozumowanie cogito ergo sum, jak i wnioski dotycz ce tego, e jest substancj my l c , s logicznie nieuprawnione, por. R.A. Watson, Descartes Knows Nothing, op. cit., s. 400–403, 405–408, tam równie przegl d wcze niejszej literatury. 36 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa..., op. cit., s. 55. Nowo ytna nauka i wiedza wed ug Kartezjusza 205 by równa dwóm k tom prostym, tak te musi istnie istota doskona a, posiadaj ca wszystkie doskona o ci, w tym w asne istnienie, gdy istota doskona a, która nie istnieje, jest mniej doskona a od tej, która istnieje, a z definicji Bóg jest tak istot , która posiada wszystkie doskona o ci37. Ontologiczny dowód Kartezjusza podwa y wspó czesny mu matematyk Pierre Gassendi (1592–1655), który zauwa y , e istnienie nie mo e by uznane za jedn z cech doskona o ci. Je li co nie istnieje, to nie jest niedoskona e, ale jest po prostu niczym38. Kartezjusz jednak nie móg uzna tego oczywistego argumentu, istnienie Boga jest bowiem dla niego logiczn konieczno ci . To nie wiara popycha a go do tego, aby upiera si przy Jego istnieniu. Dopiero istnienie Boga powoduje, e mo emy zaufa naszemu rozumowi oraz korzysta z informacji dostarczanych nam przez zmys y. Tylko w ten sposób Kartezjusz b dzie móg wydoby si z nico ci, do której zagna go jego sceptycyzm, czyli wykona krok trzeci (po odkryciu w asnego istnienia oraz istoty doskonalej). Brak idei Boga unieruchomi by go tam na zawsze. Wiedzia by, e my li, wi c jest, ale z tego nadal nic by nie wynika o. W Medytacjach o filozofii pierwszej po wi ca Kartezjusz problemowi istoty doskona ej wiele uwagi. Rozwa a on mo liwo , e zamiast Boga, to z y duch stworzy wiat i tak go urz dzi , aby nas oszuka . Gdyby tak by o, wówczas wszelkie rozumowe poznanie (a nie tylko zmys owe) i wszelkie logiczne wnioskowanie nie mia oby sensu. W wiecie z ego ducha 2+3 wcale nie musia oby równa si 5. W trzeciej i szóstej Medytacji Kartezjusz jednak dumnie powraca do zasady swego cogito: drug odkryt rzecz w nico ci jest istota doskona a, a nie z y duch. Zatem to Bóg stworzy Kartezjusza i wiat, a skoro to Bóg jest stwórc , to nie dokona dzie a stworzenia wiata po to, aby nas oszuka , ale aby my mogli go poznawa 39. W a cuchu logicznym Kartezjusza istnienie Boga jest zatem niezb dne. Z samej Rozprawy mo emy wydedukowa , e wiat dla Kartezjusza sk ada si z dwóch substancji: duchowej (Bóg i dusza) oraz materii. Ich wzajemne relacje nie s tutaj dalej obja nione oprócz tego, co zosta o zaprezentowane w rozdziale IV. Rozdzia V z kolei jest dziwacznym tekstem prezentuj cym, w wielkim skrócie, pogl dy Kartezjusza na „natur rzeczy materialnych" oraz – w nieco szerszym zakresie – na funkcjonowanie ludzkiego cia a. Jak nas 37 Ibidem, s. 57. Kartezjusz znów zapomnia wspomnie , e ontologiczny dowód na istnienie Boga zawdzi cza w. Anzelmowi z Canterbury (1035–1109), który to dowód tylko nieznacznie zmodyfikowa , zast puj c wielko Boga Jego doskona o ci . 38 A. Kenny (red.), The Oxford Illustrated History..., op. cit., s. 124. 39 R. Descartes, Medytacje o filozofii pierwszej, prze . J. Hartman, Kraków 2002. KRZYSZTOF AZARSKI206 informuje, rzeczy te opisa ze szczegó ami „w osobnym traktacie, którego pewne wzgl dy nie pozwalaj mi og osi " – chodzi oczywi cie o Le Monde40. Jak zwykle ostro ny, Kartezjusz zaznacza, e nie chce wchodzi w spory z uczonymi co do tego, jak jest, dlatego te postanowi „zostawi ca y nasz wiat ich dysputom i mówi jedynie o tym, co zdarzy oby si w nowym wiecie, gdyby Bóg stworzy teraz gdzie w urojonych przestrzeniach dosy materii, aby si taki z o y ". Innymi s owy, Kartezjusz nie twierdzi, e opisuje wiat takim, jakim on jest, ale wiat, jakim by by, gdyby dobry Bóg zdecydowa si stworzy inny. Gdyby zatem Bóg stworzy wystarczaj co du o materii i nada jej „ruch, ró norodny i bez adny"41; gdyby nada temu chaosowi „zwyczajnej swej pomocy i pozwoli jej dzia a wedle praw, jakie ustanowi ", to po jakim czasie ów chaos u o y by si w sposób podobny do naszego wiata – wy oniyby si ziemia i inne planety, s o ce i inne gwiazdy. Dalej na ziemi rzeczy ci sze d y yby do rodka, a l ejsze do zewn trz, np. woda i powietrze. „Góry, morza, ród a i rzeki b d w naturalny sposób tam si kszta towa i metale tworzy tam pok ady, i ro liny rosn na polach, i w ogóle, jak b d mog y zawi zywa si tam wszystkie cia a"42. Skrót tez zawartych w Le Monde jest w tym rozdziale tak du y, e wr cz nie mo na odkry , e Kartezjusz prezentuje tu pogl dy kosmologiczne Galileusza, fundamentalnie odbiegaj ce od dominuj cych wtedy nauk Arystotelesa. W fizyce Arystotelesa istnieje hierarchia bytów, od najni szych (materia nieo ywiona) po najwy szy (demiurg – pierwszy poruszyciel). Naturalny jest stan spoczynku, lecz ka dy byt d y do demiurga (Boga), na laduj c go zgodnie ze swoj natur . Ziemia jest w centrum wiata, a cz owiek najwy sz istot na ziemi. U Galileusza i Kartezjusza za wiat jest materi w ruchu, zachowuj c si wed ug przewidywalnych praw matematycznych (w przypadku Kartezjusza ten model uzupe niony jest, oczywi cie, o Boga i dusz ). Nie ma miejsc lepszych lub gorszych w kosmosie. Bóg jest w tym modelu de facto zb dny, cho u Kartezjusza odgrywa rol inicjuj c wiat i nadaj c mu praw. Nast pnie zdaje si zostawia go tak, jak doskona y zegarmistrz po skonstruowaniu swego dzie a43. W dalszej cz ci rozdzia u nasz my liciel skupia si na ludzkim ciele, pracy jego serca, uk adu krwiono nego, systemu oddychania, nerwów, mi ni itp., którego warto móg by oceni tylko znawca ludzkiej anatomii. Interesuj 40 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa..., op. cit., s. 63. 41 Ibidem, s. 64. 42 Ibidem, s. 66–66. 43 Por. N. Melchert, The Great Conversation..., op. cit., s. 333; F.E. Sutcliffe, Introduction, op. cit., s. 20–21. Nowo ytna nauka i wiedza wed ug Kartezjusza 207 cym szczegó em jest wzmianka porównuj ca zwierz ta do automatów, ale znacznie bardziej skomplikowanych, poniewa stworzonych przez Boga44. Tomasz Hobbes musia by pilnym czytelnikiem Le Monde, poniewa zdaje si rozwija my li Kartezjusza, zarówno w odniesieniu do automatów, jak i materii w ruchu, odrzucaj c wszelako jego dualizm natury zak adaj cy istnienie substancji duchowej. Ostatni rozdzia Rozprawy zupe nie zbija z tropu, a cel dla którego Kartezjusz go umie ci pozostaje zagadk . W zasadzie mo emy uzna go za modelowy popis pisania o niczym, z pewn domieszk kokieterii. Kartezjusz podkre la w nim warto swej metody i znowu wraca do dzie a, które napisa , ale zdecydowa si nie publikowa (Le Monde). W dziele tym odrzuca on filozofi spekulatywn na rzecz praktycznej, dzi ki której zrozumiemy dzia anie przyrody i wykorzystamy to, aby „sta si panami i posiadaczami przyrody" (maîtres et possesseurs de la nature)45. W ten oto niespodziewany sposób redefiniuje on cele nauki z prób zrozumienia natury na rzecz podporz dkowania i panowania nad ni . Kartezjusz powstrzyma si jednak od publikacji tego dzie a, jak nam si zwierza, poniewa nie zabiega o popularno , a poza tym jest najsurowszym s dzi w asnych osi gni . Ta wrodzona mu modestia oraz pragnienie uzyskania ca kowitej pewno ci co do wyników swych bada nie pozwala y mu swych odkry opublikowa 46. Potrzebuje wykona jeszcze du o do wiadcze , aby je potwierdzi , i aby dokona nowych odkry w dziedzinie ludzkiego zdrowia. Nie mo e w tych do wiadczeniach skorzysta z pomocy innych, poniewa le rozumiej oni jego metod i tylko j przekr caj , budz c tym jego zgroz 47. Ten fragment jest jakby echem tego, co Kartezjusz napisa we wspomnianym wcze niej li cie do przyjaciela, gdy zastanawia si , czy przyj zaproszenie do wyjazdu na dwór szwedzki. Nasz odkrywca ko czy swe dzieje deklaracj , która, zwa ywszy ostatnie miesi ce jego ycia, niekoniecznie wiadczy o jego zdolno ci do prorokowania: Postanowi em obraca czas, jaki mi pozosta do ycia, wy cznie na to, aby stara si naby pewn znajomo przyrody, z której mo na by oby wyci gn dla sztuki lekarskiej regu y bardziej pewne ni te, jakie posiadano dot d. Sk onno moja odsuwa mnie tak bardzo od wszelakiego rodzaju innych zamiarów, tych zw aszcza, które mog yby by jednym u yteczne szkodz c jedynie drugim, i gdyby jakie okoliczno ci zmusi y mnie chwyci si takich zatrudnie , nie s dz i bym by zdolny uprawia je z powodzeniem... B d si 44 Kartezjusz, Rozprawa..., op. cit., s. 77. 45 Ibidem, s. 84. 46 Ibidem, s. 88–91. 47 Ibidem, s. 94–97. KRZYSZTOF AZARSKI208 zawsze uwa a za bardziej obowi zanego tym, dzi ki których asce b d móg korzysta bez przeszkód z mego wolnego czasu, ni by bym tym, którzy by mi ofiarowali najbardziej zaszczytne w wiecie urz dy48. * Immanuel Kant porówna niegdy o wiecenie do okresu dojrzewania. Ludzko osi gn a dojrza o i nie yczy a sobie wi cej kurateli i opieki w adz, ale sama chcia a osi gn wiedz na temat wiata i ludzi oraz decydowa o sobie49. Metafora ta uderza swoj trafno ci . atwiej nam zrozumie niezwyk y optymizm o wiecenia i jego wiar w mo liwo osi gni cia zarówno pe ni wiedzy, jak i usuni cia cierpienia ze wiata, je li zestawimy to z m odzie czym, naiwnym optymizmem, typowym dla wieku dojrzewania. Je li zatem o wiecenie by o okresem dojrzewania ludzko ci, to Kartezjusz, jako prekursor zarówno rewolucji naukowej, jak i o wiecenia, by by jego wst pnym stadium, gdy dziecko wchodz ce dopiero w wiek dojrzewania zaczyna buntowa si wobec opinii doros ych, niezale nie od konsekwencji. Je li tak potraktujemy postaw Kartezjusza i jego metod , wówczas mo na by oceni wysoko zarówno jego odwag , jak i dorobek. Przeciwstawi si on bowiem dominuj cym pogl dom w akademii i w wiecie, wystawiaj c si na o mieszenie w rodowisku i represje ze strony w adz. Jego próby redefiniowania celów i metod nauki zas uguj na uznanie ze wzgl du na jego nonkonformizm i szczer ch przyspieszenia zdobywania wiedzy. Taka postawa zas uguje na nasz szacunek, nawet je li jego zabiegi, maj ce zapobiec ewentualnym k opotom ze strony w adz, budz pewne za enowanie. Je li jednak popatrzymy na jego metod oraz próby uporania si ze sceptycyzmem bez taryfy ulgowej, bez forów dawanych dziecku w rywalizacji z doros ymi; je li ocenimy je takimi, jakie one s , wówczas ocena my li Kartezjusza musi wypa nie najlepiej. Kartezjusz sk ada nam obietnice bez pokrycia, a odkrywczo jego metody by a pozorowana, wiadcz ca w najlepszym razie o naiwno ci my liciela, a w najgorszym – o celowym wprowadzaniu w b d. I jedyne, co mo e budzi podziw u niego, to umiej tno samopromocji i dar przekonywania o niezwyk o ci jego Rozprawy o metodzie, jak i samej metody. 48 Ibidem, s. 100. 49 Por. Z. Kuderowicz, Kant, Warszawa 2000, s. 53. Nowo ytna nauka i wiedza wed ug Kartezjusza 209 BIBLIOGRAFIA Descartes R., Medytacje o filozofii pierwszej, prze . J. Hartman, Kraków 2002. Finkel B.F., Biography. René Descartes, „American Mathematical Monthly", 1898, vol. 5, nr 8/9. Flew A., An Introduction to Western Philosophy, London 1995. Garber D., Descartes and Method in 1637, „PSA: Proceedings of the Biennial Meeting of the Philosophy of Science Association", 1988, vol. 2. Grene M., Descartes and Skepticism, „Review of Metaphysics", 1999, vol. 52, nr 3. Hallowell J.H., Main Currents in Modern Political Thought, Lanham 1984. Kartezjusz, Rozprawa o metodzie, przek ad T. ele skiego-Boya, Kraków 1952. Kennington R., René Descartes, [w:] L. Strauss, J. Cropsey, History of Political Philosophy, Chicago 1987. Kenny A. (red.), The Oxford Illustrated History of Western Philosophy, Oxford 1997. Melchert N., The Great Conversation: A Historical Introduction to Philosophy, Mountain View 1995. Smith S.B., An Exemplary Life: The Case of René Descartes, „Review of Metaphysics", 2004, vol. 57, nr 3. Sutcliffe F.E., Introduction, [w:] Descartes, Discourse on Method and the Meditations, London 1968. de Tocqueville A., O Demokracji w Ameryce, t um. M. Król, Warszawa 1976. Watson R.A., Descartes Knows Nothing, „History of Philosophy", 1984, vol. 1, nr 4. STRESZCZENIE Centralnym tematem artyku u jest mia a obietnica Kartezjusza, e jego metoda, tak jak j prezentuje w Rozprawie o metodzie, zrewolucjonizuje nauk oraz filozofi . Artyku analizuje ka dy z rozdzia ów Rozprawy, próbuj c ustali , co w a ciwie Kartezjusz próbuje nam dowie oraz, czy dostarczy to co by obieca . Wnioski artyku u s rozczarowuj ce. Kartezjusz biegle u ywa technik retorycznych, aby pozyska przychylno czytelników oraz zyska poklask, faktycznie jednak proponuje nie wi cej ni cztery zasady prowadzenia bada , które znajduj si w rozdziale II. Pozosta e pi rozdzia ów KRZYSZTOF AZARSKI210 maj albo ma y zwi zek z g ównym tematem (roz. I i IV), albo s ca kowicie niezwi zane z tematem (roz. III, V i VI). Rozdzia IV, zapewne najbardziej znany ze wszystkich z powodu jego zasady cogito ergo sum, równie ma niewiele wspólnego z obietnic Kartezjusza. Je li zatem jest co warto ciowego w Rozprawie, to jest to m odzie cza odwaga z jak Kartezjusz rzuci wyzwanie establishmentowi swoich czasów. Je li jednak we miemy na serio obietnic Rozprawy, wówczas musimy skonkludowa , e Kartezjusz nie wype ni swej obietnicy, natomiast skupi si na umiej tnej promocji w asnej osoby. SUMMARY The focus of this article is René Descartes' bold claim that his method as presented in the Discourse on Method, will revolutionize science as well as philosophy. The author of this article reviews each chapter of the Discourse trying to establish what exactly Descartes had in mind and if he delivered what he had promised. The findings of the article are disappointing. Descartes skillfully uses rhetorical techniques to win his audience and to gain publicity, yet in fact he proposes no more than just four rules of conducting research inserted in chapter II. The remaining five chapters are either loosely connected with the main theme (chapters I and IV) or are entirely off the topic (chapters III, V and VI). Chapter IV, probably the most famous in the Discourse because of its cogito ergo sum principle, also has little in common with Descartes' pledge. The author concludes that if there is anything worthy in the Discourse, it is its adolescent boldness and challenge to the establishment of Descartes' time. If, however, we take his Discourse at face value, then we must conclude that Descartes fails to fulfill his promise and engages mainly in self-promotion. , , , - . , , , , . . , , Nowo ytna nauka i wiedza wed ug Kartezjusza 211 , II. ( I i IV), ( III, V i VI). IV – cogito ergo sum – - . - , , establishment - . , , , ; .
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
NeuroQuantology | March 2009 | Vol 7 | Issue 1| Page 188-197 Prakash and Caponigo, Inner light perception as a quantum phenomenon ISSN 1303 5150 www.neuroquantology.com 188 OPINION and PERSPECTIVES — Inner Light Perception as a Quantum Phenomenon-Addressing the Questions of Physical and Critical Realisms, Information and Reduction Ravi Prakash* and Michele Caponigro† Abstract Subjectivity or the problem of 'qualia' tends to make the accessibility and comprehension of psychological events intangible especially for scientific exploration. The issue becomes even more complicated but interesting when one turns towards mystical experiences. Such experiences are different from other psychological phenomena in the sense that they don't occur to every one, so are difficult to comprehend even for their qualifications of existence. We conducted a qualitative study on one such experience of inner-light perception. This is a common experience reported by meditators of all kinds. However, we chose to study this phenomenon in Vihangam Yoga practitioners because of frequent occurrence of this experience in them as well as their reports of having it for hours at a stretch. During this study, it was noted that it arose many questions there we need to answer not only to explain such phenomena but also for having a better understanding of philosophy of science. In the search for these answers, we proceeded towards another complicated branch of science, quantum mechanics. Our present work is about creating an interface between a unique subjective phenomenon and principles of philosophy as well as of quantum mechanics. We explore the constructs of physical and critical realisms and their coincidence, quantum information theory and the measurement problem of Copenhagen interpretation and their possible applications in such an experience. In this endeavour, we also address the possibility that inner-light perception as experienced by Vihangam Yogis is a quantum event in brain. For this purpose, we specifically analyse the Zeilingers information concept and try to apply it to this phenomena. Key Words: inner light perception, critical realism, physical realism, quantum reduction, Copenhagen interpretation NeuroQuantology 2009; 1: 188-197 Introductıon1 Psychological phenomena have always been surrounded by the aura of subjectivity. Popularly known by the problem of "qualia", subjectivity definitely makes the accessibility Corresponding author: Ravi Prakash Address: *Central Institute of Psychiatry, India and † University of Bergamo via Salvecchio 19 24129 Bergamo Italy e-mail: [email protected] of data of psychological events more difficult and intangible (Dennet, 1988; 1991). The problem deepens if we turn towards exploration of mystical experiences. It is difficult to consider mystical experiences as real because of our inability to experience them. But does this inability on our part disqualify them for being real? We recently conducted a qualitative study on the inner-light perception condition of Vihangam Yoga NeuroQuantology | March 2009 | Vol 7 | Issue 1| Page 188-197 Prakash and Caponigo, Inner light perception as a quantum phenomenon ISSN 1303 5150 www.neuroquantology.com 189 practitioners. During the study, several questions arose that posed difficulty at the philosophical level of science. These were the questions related to concepts of realism and information that are central to science as a whole. Interestingly, we found parallels of this phenomena and questions similar to these in the drastically-evolving field of quantum mechanics. Our present work is an endeavour to create an interface between subjective experiences specifically ones like inner-light perception and the principles of quantum mechanics both applicable to science as a whole. We start with a brief description of our qualitative study on this phenomena. Then we move on to address the questions raised by this condition. We will see that these questions are so central to the philosophies of science that for answering them, we need to acknowledge the concepts of both critical and physical realisms as well as that of information. As we try to answer these questions, it will be observed that inner-light perception can be theorised as a quantum phenomena in brain. For this, we will specifically focus on the Zeilingers ideas of information. Finally, we will make a passing reference on the issue of measurement problems in quantum mechanics as proposed in the Copenhagen interpretation and the similarity of this problem in the measurement of inner-light perception condition. Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis Interpretative phenomenological analysis is a relatively new method of qualitative analysis which has its roots in critical realism (Bhaskar, 1978) and social cognition paradigm (Fiske, 1991). Its central concern is to explore how people make sense of their experiences. It utilises the empirical level of critical realism so that it assumes that there are real structures which exist independently of our experience – but we can only access the circular relationship between reality and discourse. The participant's 'lived experience' is coupled with a subjective and reflective process of interpretation, in which the analyst explicitly enters into the research process. Interpretative phenomenological analysis has been widely used for the purpose of qualitative analysis of several phenomena including genetics, sexual disorders, dementia etc (Reid, 2005). Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis of Inner-Light Perception of Meditation In contrast to the objective aspects, subjective states of meditation have been much less explored. One of the reasons for this less indulgence seems to be the implausible and mystic nature of these subjective experiences. Out of body experiences, multimodal sensory experiences, visualisation of sceneries of totally new places or persons, are examples of such experiences. However, in addition to such difficult-to-describe experiences, less complicated experiences like "light perception" have also been described widely in the literature. Several meditators give accounts of perceiving some luminance while doing meditation. Often these kinds of experienced are given spiritual connotations. In spite of such widespread description, it has not been explored scientifically. We conducted a study which was aimed at exploring these subjective experiences using qualitative methodology. We explored the subjective mental states of the focus group constituted by Yogis practicing the meditative procedure of Vihangam Yoga, who stated explicitly of perceiving some sort of luminance while doing the meditative procedure with eyes closed. Vihangam Yoga is a very ancient Indian meditation procedure, whose mentions have been reported in the most ancient Indian sacred texts of Vedas(Prasad, 1989; Prasad, 1994). There were two reasons for which this meditative procedure was chosen for present study: (a) The authors had visited get together meetings of 4 meditation sects (satsanga) and had explored for the number of meditators who claimed of seeing light in their meditative practices. Of the four groups, the number of meditators reporting of luminance perception (n=41 out of 128) far exceeded those of other groups (n=13 of 69, n=7 of 58 and n=22 of 150 meditators attending their individual meetings). Further among them, accounts of light perception for hours at a stretch were only reported from the groups of Vihangam Yogis. (b) The meditative procedure is unique in the sense that it is not NeuroQuantology | March 2009 | Vol 7 | Issue 1| Page 188-197 Prakash and Caponigo, Inner light perception as a quantum phenomenon ISSN 1303 5150 www.neuroquantology.com 190 predominantly concentrated in one part of the country, rather has been practiced all across the country. For this qualitative analysis, we used the technique of interpretative phenomenological analysis. In this study, the following themes were obtained (Prakash et al., article in press): [1] Uniqueness of the nature of light [2] Emotional and altered identity experiences during light perception [3] Explanations of the source of light [4] Change in outlook towards world and associated changes in thinking Questions Raised From The Inner-Light Perception Condition While studying the inner-light perception experiences by Yogis, we came face to face with many problems which are actually questions regarding methodology of science and the concepts of reality. These questions became our impetus for us to present these questions for discussion. Here we address a few of them: 1) Is the inner-light perception of meditation a scientific phenomena? Actually there are two answers to this question. One is what science is perceived by the common man. I think he will like to discard such an experience out right because it does not have any definition and because it is very difficult to comprehend how an individual can see light by eyes closed. So he will tend to think that it not only does not have a definition of its own but it also violates other laws of basic optics. So it is fair enough to call it non-scientific. If we go by the Karl Poppers falsifiability criteria, we will probably end up saying that such a state cannot be tested in a way by which it can be falsified, so it is not scientific. So we end up concluding that it is not scientific and thus we cannot explore it further by scientific means/ methodologies. 2) Is meditation a scientific phenomena? The answer to the earlier question may seem very simple but it has facets which don't allow it to remain that simple. The meditators claim that every one who does meditation will have this experience of "inner-light perception" once he reaches a level of expertise in the same. His Holiness Sadguru Sadafaldev Ji Maharaj, founder of this Vihangam Yoga Organisation, gave an explicit version of the ability of this meditation technique to make the meditators reach the highest level of inner-light if the meditators would practice it regularly: "Yadi Vidhiwat tum sadhan Kariho Amar lok pohunghaunga" (Meaning: If thou do the meditation as has been taught by me, you will reach the divine light of god). Thus it gives us a method to falsify itself. Now if we go by Karl Poppers philosophy, these experiences should be called scientific because now we have a method of testing it in such a way that can falsify it. 3) Is the inner-light perception condition empirical level of realism? The fact that we utilised a methodology based on the principles of critical realism for studying this phenomena evidences the fact that we moved towards a different philosophy of science for studying it. Now we come to a very pertinent question of this topic. Interpretative phenomenological analysis was never used to study this condition. Could this have been because it is just too mystical or because it really does not comply with the laws of critical realism. The empirical level of critical realism has been quoted as the level of realism in which the subject experiences the perception. So here, it can be deduced that the inner-light perception is the empirical level of realism whereas the process of meditation is the actual level of realism, and the realistic level would still be unknown. Is it really so? We really do not know and the reason for bringing this topic to fore was to ignite an argument over it. 4) What next? In spite of these unanswered questions we try to move to the next level of scientific analysis of this phenomena. Suppose we try to find out the mechanisms of this inner-light perception phenomena, is it possible to do so? Perhaps this question is too easy to answer. One could easily say NeuroQuantology | March 2009 | Vol 7 | Issue 1| Page 188-197 Prakash and Caponigo, Inner light perception as a quantum phenomenon ISSN 1303 5150 www.neuroquantology.com 191 no because it cannot be proved to exist. So we turn towards a more complicated question. How can we prove that this state does not exist? Is there a method for it? What current concepts of science and realism have to say for it? The Entry of Critical Realism Among the major scientific revolutions of the past century, origin of the philosophy of critical realism holds a special position. The theory of critical realism has in general acquired a global acceptance and its adaptations are increasing to cover different aspects of realism in different branches of science including qualitative studies like Interpretative phenomenological analysis and cosmology (Bhaskar, 1978). The scientific theories which are grounded on critical realism aim primarily on the structures and mechanisms of the world rather than observable empirical events, as it is believed that the relationship between them is only contingent (Bhaskar, 2008). The differentiating feature of critical realism philosophy from empiricist and positivistic philosophies of science is that critical realism openly accepts the fact that these structures and mechanisms may not be accessible to sense experience (Tsang, 1999). A short explanation of the theory is as follows: a) The philosophy propounds that there are three levels of reality: These are the empirical, the actual and the real levels. The empirical level of reality is what the subjects experience by perceiving any event. The actual level is the one constituted by events which are logically prior to the experiences. These events are caused by the powers of thingspowers that exist even when they are not causing events. The real is constituted by those mechanisms that generate the series of events that constitute the actual level of reality. Thus the real is constituted by those mechanisms that generate the series of events that constitute the actual whereas the empirical, in turn, consists of experiences of certain events (Reed, 2005). Reaching these higher levels of reality has been called as Transcendental realism in the sense that for reaching the real level, one has to transdent the empirical and actual levels. b) The second important aspect of critical realism is what has been called as critical naturalism. This theory underscores the fact that before we can know how we know, we need to have an idea how we interact with that world in such a way as to acquire knowledge of it (Collier, 1994). The ontological orientation of this theory leads us towards an inquiry into the properties that societies possess while the epistemological orientation leads us to an engagement with how these properties make them possible objects of knowledge for us. This theory emphasises the fact that for acquisition of idea of what people and society actually are, it is necessary to focus on the implicit knowledge we possess by virtue of being people and thus social beings. The Entry of Physical Realism Unfortunately, the series of questions don't seem to end here. We will try to address two harder questions, which are perhaps harder than the hard problem of inverse correlation in consciousness studies. Is inner light perception only a subjective state or is there an element of physical realism to it? Perhaps it may sound too absurd and self-contradictory in first instance. But a closer look may make it clearer. We actually try to find out whether the innerlight perception complies with current concepts of physical realism? Could it be that the subjective experience is some quantum state of physical realism? Do we need to involve the concepts of quantum epistemology to analyse this phenomena? We will try to find answers to these questions by exploring the concepts of physical realism. Out of the several types of physical realism stated in the literature, we will NeuroQuantology | March 2009 | Vol 7 | Issue 1| Page 188-197 Prakash and Caponigo, Inner light perception as a quantum phenomenon ISSN 1303 5150 www.neuroquantology.com 192 focus on the ontological physical realism which deals with the questions of existence and possibilities of mind independent worlds (Vernette, 2006). There have been again many lines of thoughts about the ontological physical realism, of which we consider Einstein's, Rovelli's, D'Espagnant's and Zeilinger's concepts. We will try to fit the condition of inner light perception in each of these concepts and will try to investigate whether it is possible to call this state physically real. Inner Light Perception In Eınstein's Position Einstein gave the following proposition for the fulfilment of criteria of physical realism: "If, without in any way disturbing a system, we can predict with certainty (i.e., with probability equal to unity) the value of a physical quantity, then there exists an element of physical reality corresponding to this physical quantity."As mentioned by Vernette and Caponigro (2006), here exists a condition of forced isomorphism between physical reality and the physical quantity. Now implying this theoretical conjuncture to our inner-light perception condition, it is difficult to assign an element of physical reality to the condition. We definitely cannot equate the subjective experience of inner-light perception with some physical quantity (physical quantity is in essence an object with objective properties which are independent of the measurements). However, we can have quantitative evidence of this state by neuroimaging measures. But as per this theory, there then will not be the physical realism in the subjective experience but in the states of brain because only the states of brain can be equated with physical quantity. Again even if we consider the subjective inner-light-perception as a physical quantity, we can not predict the value of it with certainty which again discards its possibility of having element of physical realism. So this theory discards the possibility of subjective experiences like this one of being physically real. Inner Light Perception In Rovelli's Position Rovelli's position can be seen as a drastic departure from Einstein's position. He propounded the following theory : "The physical reality is taken to be formed by the individual quantum events through which interacting systems (objects)affect one another. Quantum events exist only in interactions and the reality of each quantum event is only relative to the system involved in the interaction". (Rovelli, 1996) This system rejects the importance of assignment of any system as observer or as observed. All the systems are seen in relation to each other. All the systems can provide observers and physics is concerned about the information that any system can have. The exchange of information is possible between the systems but this exchange is again a quantum information process. This theory is enlightening in that it provides a possibility that the perception of inner light can be seen as a information exchange between two systems of inner-light and the meditator. Thus the physical reality of the inner-light in relation to the meditator perceiving the light is preserved. But it does not provide the element of physical reality of inner-light system to another observer (another system in this context). So the physical reality of inner-light is not there for the second observer. But again the meditator can share information with other observer by means of words or expression. This will be a topic of epistemological reality rather than ontological reality. The following figure is a description of the same. Inner Light Perception In D'espagnat Position The following statement summarises the D'Espagnat (D'Espagnat, 2006) philosophy regarding the physical realism: "...defines his philosophical view as open realism; existence precedes knowledge; something exists independently of us even if it cannot be described". Thus as per this theory, the physical reality exists but we are unable to describe it. NeuroQuantology | March 2009 | Vol 7 | Issue 1| Page 188-197 Prakash and Caponigo, Inner light perception as a quantum phenomenon ISSN 1303 5150 www.neuroquantology.com 193 A closer look towards this theory brings us close to the theory of critical realism which propounds that there are aspects of reality which can not be recorded by senses. But the reality exists. Going by this theory, it explains the situation of both the observers in our inner-light –perception condition. The other observer cannot access the reality of the inner-light but the inner-light exists independent of this inability of the other observer. However, as Vernette and Caponigro quote, perhaps this theory departs from the concept of physical realism itself. The cross represents the inability of the other observer other than the meditator to access the information regarding the system of the inner-light. Thus the physical realism for the inner-light system to observer system B is possible as he is the meditator but the physical realism of inner light system is not possible for system A. However, the exchange of information regarding the inner-light system between systems A and B is possible. Inner-Light Perception In Zeilinger 'S Position Zeilinger introduced the individuality concept in for the purpose of description of physical realism. His theory is as follows: "First we note that our description of the physical world is represented by propositions. Any physical object can be described by a set of true propositions. Second, we have knowledge or information about an object only through observations. It does not make any sense to talk about reality without the information about it. Any complex object which is represented by numerous propositions can be decomposed into constituent systems which need fewer propositions to be specified. The process of subdividing reaches its limit when the individual subsystems only represent a single proposition, and such a system is denoted as an elementary system. (qubit of modern quantum physics)." (Kofler, 2006) Going by this theory, our condition of "inner-light-perception" gets the status of physical realism. As per this theory, there is no need for describing physical realism of the inner-light perception for the meditator because he is observing it directly. For the other observer, the physical realism of the inner-light is possible by a representation of a true set of propositions. Whether he reaches the stage of single proposition will depend on the method of decomposition of the propositions into constituent systems. But the physical reality of the state can be represented to him by the set of propositions. As is evident from the above descriptions, as we move from the Einstein's concept to the Zeilinger's concept, the phenomenon of 'inner-light perception' can be proved to be physically real. We chose to focus on the inner light because it represents a unique subjective state experienced by few people and is not pathological like auditory hallucinations, so can not be directly correlated to any Inner light A B Meditator NeuroQuantology | March 2009 | Vol 7 | Issue 1| Page 188-197 Prakash and Caponigo, Inner light perception as a quantum phenomenon ISSN 1303 5150 www.neuroquantology.com 194 neurochemical alteration of brain. Such states can be many like dream states, imagination states etc but inner light is again different from them because it is specifically related to a procedure known as meditation, whose reality (both physical and critical) is again an arguable issue. The Coincidence of Physical and Critical Realism: Subjective Experiences Here, we can see an obvious similarity between the physical realism and critical realism concepts. The subjective experiences like the inner-light perception can be seen as the quantum information process which is the empirical level of reality in terms of the Roy Bhaskars critical realism philosophy. Then the apparent randomness can be seen as the reason of differences between the empirical levels of reality. Perhaps this randomness is then generated by the mechanisms of the real level causing the events of factual level of reality to occur. Thus the subjective experience of inner-light here act as the 'basic units' in Zeilienger's concept and of immanent experience in Bhaskar's concept. However, as Bhaskar pointed out, to reach the real level, one has to transcend the immanent level of experience. The exact correlate of this transcendence in physical realism can not be pointed out at present but it is very obvious that the immanent experience which creates the empirical level of reality in Bhaskar's concept corresponds to the individual reality concept of Zeilinger's philosophy taking into account the randomness created by the basic units. We suggest that the subjective experience (i.e. inner-light) can pick up elements of the underlying reality. On this basis, we argue about a new form of realism. Realism linked with the "choice" of an individual experience. The apparent randomness of data picked up in different experiences is seen as parts of the big puzzle of the underlying reality. The Ontic Status of The Quantum Information Theory So after notoriously vigorous efforts, we have proved that the inner-light perception is compatible with the laws of physical reality. But does that mean that it is physically real? It would not be an appropriate scientific approach to call it physically real until we give a theoretical explanation for it. For this theoretical explanation, we turn towards quantum mechanics: the quantum information theory. We will see whether what we are looking for explaining this and similar unique subjective states lies in the realms of quantum mechanics in the form of the information concept. Recently, with the development of quantum information theory, several scientists have given to the information a fundamental role in the description of the Nature. Quantum information theory has led to new way to look at the foundations of QM, including a greater emphasis on possible role of subjective probability in QM. Several works claims that the quantum mechanics can be viewed as an information theory. According to these works, the description of physical systems in terms of information and information processing, is the only way to describe physical system. For instance, according Bub's words (Bub, 2004): I argue that quantum mechanics is fundamentally a theory about the representation and manipulation of information, not a theory about the mechanics of nonclassical waves or particles. The notion of quantum information is to be understood as a new physical primitive. The authors give at the information an ontic statute. In this context it is possible, for instance, to deduce the physical laws and the matter from the information. Others extreme positions (Zeilinger, 2001) claim that: "The discovery that individual events are irreducibly random is probably one of the most significant findings of the twentieth century, even for single particles, it is not always possible to assign definite measurement outcomes independently of and prior to the selection of specific measurement apparatus in the specific experiment. For this reason, the distinction between reality and our knowledge of reality, between reality and information, cannot be made. All these approaches (quantum theoretic description of physical systems) start in general from the assumption that we live in a world in which there are certain constraints on the acquisition, representation, and communication of information. According to them, the description of physical systems in terms of information and information processing, is NeuroQuantology | March 2009 | Vol 7 | Issue 1| Page 188-197 Prakash and Caponigo, Inner light perception as a quantum phenomenon ISSN 1303 5150 www.neuroquantology.com 195 complementary (or the only way) to the conventional description of physical system in terms of the laws of physics. The notion of quantum information is to be understood as a new physical primitive. The primitive role of the information seems to explain, according to some authors, the deep nature of physical reality. In this context, the description of a state of a quantum system is a description of the information possessed by the observer about the system. The quantum state seem a construct of the observer. So, does quantum information theory finally help us to resolve the conceptual of quantum mechanics? And does the theory indicate a new way of thinking about the world one in which the material as the fundamental subject matter of physical theory is seen to be replaced by the immaterial: information? Inner-Light Perception As A Quantum Process In Brain: Deductions of Zeilingers 'Information' Concept Our discussion till now has focussed on the compatibility of inner light perception with the principles of critical realism, physical realism and quantum information theory. We now proceed to explore the possibilities of considering innerlight perception as quantum process in brain. The very idea of this consideration could seem inappropriate keeping in view the differences in the magnitude and scale of the two events. However, we proceed with this exploration and will see that how the two of them can satisfactorily be correlated once we focus on Zeilinger's interpretation of quantum mechanics. We suggest that he provides a good support for our thesis. According to Zeilinger to Brukner (2001) the information is the most fundamental notion in quantum mechanics. Based on this observation they suggest new ideas for a foundational principle for quantum theory. They proposed, that the foundational principle for quantum theory may be identified through the assumption that the most elementary system carries one bit of information only. Therefore an elementary system can only give a definite answer in one specific measurement. The irreducible randomness of individual outcomes in other measurements and quantum complementarity are then necessary consequences. Moreover, they affirm that the objective randomness of the individual quantum event is a necessity of a description of the world in view of the significant influence the observer in quantum mechanics has". They claim that "whatever information could be ascribed to 'basic units' on the quantum level had to be subjective because it depended on the observer's choice". Now, can we consider the inner-light state as an individual quantum process in the brain? Based on these premise, we argue that our researches are closely related to Zeilinger's view. Then there are three obvious deductions of this theory: a) The inner light (or the state before it in time) could be a state of quantum superposition in brain. This could be explained by any one of the several quantum theories of consciousness (Stapp, 2004). b) This occurrence of inner-light would be present irrespective of the meditators observation of it. This can be seen similar to several quantum states where conscious observations are not involved. For example, progression of the state as per the Schrödinger's prediction when the collapse due to conscious observation is not involved. c) Then the perception of inner-light would be seen as the collapse of the quantum superposition. The way this collapse (Copenhagen or Everetts multiple worlds theory or Orchestrated objective reduction by Penrose-Hameroff etc) occurs is very difficult to conceptualise at present. We will not go in to the depths of this collapse phenomena because this article is actually meant for the purpose of describing the physical reality aspects of such a subjective phenomena. However, these quantum interpretations are just suppositions and far from making any theoretical statements at present. We just mentioned them to propose a similarity between this inner-light perception and a quantum process in brain. In fact, we will at the end of this discussion NeuroQuantology | March 2009 | Vol 7 | Issue 1| Page 188-197 Prakash and Caponigo, Inner light perception as a quantum phenomenon ISSN 1303 5150 www.neuroquantology.com 196 turn towards the problems that classical Copenhagen interpretation pose for such a measurement. We think that, our approaches are simply attempts to keep, in one way or other, a realistic view of the world. Probably, quantum physics will be superseded by a new theory, but it is likely that this will be much more radical than anything we have today. This radical view, we retain will include the "reality" of individual experience. Turning Towards: The Copenhagen Interpretation Any discussion on the philosophy of quantum mechanics will be incomplete until we address the Copenhagen interpretation. Thus we conclude this discussion with by presenting our proposition of inner-light perception phenomenon in the light of the classical Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics. Historically, the understanding of the mathematical structure of QM went through various stages. Very briefly, the Copenhagen interpretation assumes two processes influencing the wavefunction, namely, 1) its unitary evolution according to the Schrödinger equation, and 2) the process of measurement. In other words, quantum mechanics is problematic in the sense that it is incomplete and needs the notion of a classical device measuring quantum observables as an important ingredient of the theory. Due to this, one accepts that there exist two worlds: the classical one and the quantum one. In the classical world, the measurements of classical observables are produced by classical devices. In the framework of standard theory, the measurements of quantum observables are produced by classical devices, too. Due to this, the theory of quantum measurements is considered as something very specifically different from classical measurements. As we know, the problem of the realism of physical theories is quite complex. The contemporary of scientific community admit without hesitation that the existence of the objective physical reality is a condition sine qua non for any scientific activity. This stance seems to correlate with the structure of classical physics where each measured physical quantity finds its counterpart in the external reality. This means that one can always assign an element of the physical reality to any value obtained in an experiment. In other words, the physical system is said to possess a certain property (Vernette, 2006). Most interpretations of quantum mechanics are focused on the issue of the measurement problem, that is related of the inability to assign a single value of an observable obtained in a measurement to a given quantum system described by means of a wave function. Moreover, the matter of the emergence of the macroscopic reality out of the quantum regime needs to be addressed in this context as well. The lack of the straightforward relation between the values of the observables and the properties of a microscopic system under study is a consequence of the perturbation of the state of the system by the process of a measurement. However, this cannot be regarded as a valid criterion to deny the real existence of quantum states indicating that in quantum mechanics the states of the systems under study are not directly measurable but they are as real as those in the classical regime. The contemporary attitude towards quantum mechanics reflects much of the legacy of the Copenhagen interpretation where the quantum formalism is treated exclusively as a tool to calculate probabilities of obtaining certain values of observables and not referring to any real quantum states. After the proposition that inner-light perception is a quantum state in brain, we now correlate the problem of measurement as applicable to this condition in the same way it is applicable to the Copenhagen interpretation of Quantum world as a whole. But as mentioned above, this inability to measure the quantum state is not a valid criteria to rule out the reality of such a possible quantum state. Here we see another coincidence of the theories of physical and critical realities where the (consciously) obtained information is not the real level of reality, instead it represents only the empirical level (Bhaskar, 1978). NeuroQuantology | March 2009 | Vol 7 | Issue 1| Page 188-197 Prakash and Caponigo, Inner light perception as a quantum phenomenon ISSN 1303 5150 www.neuroquantology.com 197 References Bhaskar R. A Realist Theory of Science, London: Verso2008 Bhaskar R. A Realist Theory of Science. Hassocks, West Sussex: Harvester Press, 1978. Brukner C, Zukowski M, ZeilingerA. The essence of entanglement. arXiv:quant-ph/0106119 2001 Bub J. Quantum mechanics is about quantum information, Foundations of Physics Festschrift issue for James Cushing (2004) Collier, Critical Realism: An Introduction to Roy Bhaskar's Philosophy. London: Verso, 1994: 16-25. Dennett DC. "Quining qualia", in Consciousness in Contemporary Science, edited by A. Marcel & E. Bisiach, Oxford University Press. 1988. Dennett DC. Consciousness Explained. Little, Brown, and Company, 1991. d'Espagnat B. On physics and philosophy. Princeton University Press 2006 Einstein B, Podolsky N. Rosen Phys. Rev. 1935;47: 777. Fade S Using interpretative phenomenological analysis for public health nutrition and dietetic research: a practical guide. Proceedings of the Nutrition Society 2004;63:647–653. Fiske ST & Taylor SE Social Cognition, 2nd ed. New York: McGraw-Hill 1991. Kofler J, Zeilinger A. Sciences et Avenir Hors-Srie, October/November 2006;148 Prakash R, Haq MZU, Prakash O,Sarkhel S &Kumar D. Inner light perception of Vihangam Yogis-A qualitative study. Journal of Consciousness studies. Article in press. Prasad R. Introduction to Vihangam Yoga . Published by: Adhyatmic Yantralaya, Garwar, DistBallia, U.P (India) 1989 Prasad R. Towards God Realization. Published by: Adhyatmic Yantralaya, Garwar, DistBallia, U.P (India). 1994 Reed M. 'Reflections on the Realist Turn in Organization and Management Studies'. Journal of Management Studies2005;42:1621-1644. Reid K, Flowers P, Larkin M. Exploring lived experience The Psychologist 2005; 18(1):20-23. Rovelli C. Relational quantum mechanics, Intl. J. theor. Phys. 1996; 35:1637-1678 Stapp HP "Quantum Mechanical Theories of Consciousness" Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory. Paper LBNL-56281. (August 16, 2004). http://repositories.cdlib.org/lbnl/LBNL-56281 Tsang EW, KwanK. Replication and Theory Development in Organizational Science: A Critical Realist Perspective. Academy of Management Review 1999; 24 (4):759780 Vernette D, Caponigro M. "Physical quantity" and " Physical reality" in Quantum Mechanics: an epistemological path. arXiv:quant-ph/0612036v1 5
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Disputatio, Vol. IX, No. 44, May 2017 Received: 16/06/2016 Revised: 04/11/2016 Accepted: 08/12/2016 Robustness and Up-to-us-ness Simon Kittle University of Innsbruck BIBLID [0873-626X (2017) 44; pp. 35–57] Abstract Frankfurt-style cases purport to show that an agent can be morally responsible for an action despite not having any alternatives. Some critics have responded by highlighting various alternatives that remain in the cases presented, while Frankfurtians have objected that such alternatives are typically not capable of grounding responsibility. In this essay I address the recent suggestion by Seth Shabo that only alternatives associated with the 'up to us' locution ground moral responsibility. I distinguish a number of kinds of ability, suggest which kinds of abilities ground the truth of the 'up to us' locution, and outline how these distinctions apply to the indeterministic buffer cases. Keywords Free will, control, alternative possibilities, Frankfurt-style cases, up to us 1 Introduction Frankfurt-style cases purport to show that an agent can be morally responsible for an action despite not having any alternatives. Some critics have responded by highlighting various alternatives that remain in the cases presented, and Frankfurtians have in their turn responded that such alternatives are not robust-not capable of grounding responsibility. In this essay I distinguish two different kinds of 'up to us' statement which, I argue, are made true by different kinds of ability. I articulate a number of different concepts of ability and ask which ones ground the truth of the 'up to us' locution when applied to actions, and in the process I address the recent suggestion by Seth Shabo that only alternatives associated with the 'up to us' locution ground moral responsibility. Using this framework I then assess what I take to be the strongest Frankfurt-style cases, the indeterministic buffer cases, showing how they fail. Simon Kittle36 2 Shabo on alternatives and robustness Frankfurt-style cases (FSCs) are scenarios where an agent, typically Jones, performs some action "on his own", while being monitored by an external agent who is capable of manipulating the subject's brain so as to cause him to decide in a particular way. The external agent does not, in fact, affect the agent, but is said to be able to detect whether intervention is needed, and thereby leave Jones unable to do anything different. FSCs are thus taken to be counter-examples to the Principle of Alternative Possibilities (PAP), which states that an agent can be morally responsible for an action only if the agent could have done otherwise. One response to the FSCs is to argue that, despite initial appearances, Jones does in fact have alternatives. Because some alternatives are clearly irrelevant to responsibility the challenge is to find alternatives that are capable of grounding responsibility. I will follow John Martin Fischer (1994: 142) in calling such alternatives robust. The following scenario, which for reasons that will become apparent I've called No Cup, illustrates this point: (No Cup) Jones intentionally detonates an explosive device by keying in the activation code on his cell phone. He was being monitored by Black, who wanted him to detonate the device and would have intervened if need be (had Jones been going to decide to refrain from detonating the device, he would have twitched, and Black was going to use this fact to intervene). Unknown to Black and Jones, however, there was a 1% objective probability that the low rumbles of an overhead plane would cause the roof of Jones's office to cave in. Had this happened Jones would have fled and made no decision concerning the explosive device. Assume for the time being that this is a successful Frankfurt-style case: Black removes all the alternatives that might have been thought to be relevant to Jones's responsibility for detonating the device. The current point is just that the small probability of Jones's office collapsing introduces a genuine alternative possibility, but one that is obviously irrelevant to any responsibility Jones might bear for detonating the device. Thus, not all alternatives are relevant. This much is agreed upon by all parties. What we need then is a robustness criterion which spells out 37Robustness and Up-to-us-ness when alternative possibilities are relevant to responsibility. One suggestion, which would explain the case above, is that robust alternatives will be those associated with an agent's abilities. Shabo (2014: 384) articulates the distinction between these kinds of alternatives as follows: (Mere alternative) Consistent with the past and the laws of nature, it's possible that the agent performs a different action (or refrains from acting), but the agent lacks the ability to realize this possibility; the past and the laws preclude this possibility from being realized except as a result of circumstances the agent doesn't control, or with respect to which her control is markedly impoverished. (Enabling alternative) Consistent with the past and the laws, it's possible that the agent performs a different action (or refrains from acting), and, further, she has the power or ability or to realize this possibility. Shabo says that while it has long been recognised that mere alternatives do not satisfy any interesting avoidability requirement, it is often thought that enabling alternatives do. Shabo argues that this latter point is not straightforward. He aims to illustrate why with the following example, which I will call Original Cup: (Original Cup) Jones intentionally detonates an explosive device by keying in the activation code on his cell phone, while (incidentally) resisting an urge to take a sip of coffee until he has completed the code. He was being monitored by Black, who wanted him to detonate the device, and who would have intervened if need be. Since Black has determined that whether or not Jones takes a sip of coffee during this interval reveals nothing about his intentions, his taking a sip would not have triggered Black's intervention. Unknown to Black and Jones, however, the coffee contains a fast-acting neurotoxin that would have paralyzed Jones before he had a chance to complete the code (Shabo 2014: 386). Here, just as with No Cup, there is an alternative possibility where Jones does not detonate the explosive: if he sips the coffee, he'll be immediately paralysed. But in Original Cup, in contrast to No Cup, Jones is-in some sense-able to realise the alternative Simon Kittle38 where he bears no responsibility (by taking a sip of coffee). Shabo's point is that this is not enough. He rightly points out that behind the demand for alternatives lies the demand for control. It is typically supposed that if an agent is able to do otherwise then that agent has the distinctive kind of control required, but Original Cup shows that not every sense in which an agent might realise an alternative bestows this control. Shabo suggests that what's important is that the action be up to the agent. The connection between 'up to us' and responsibility goes all the way back to Aristotle and has been discussed at various points in the literature on Frankfurt-style cases (Frankfurt 1969: 836, Naylor 1984, Alvarez 2009: 64). How can it be up to Jones whether he sips the coffee but not up to him whether he detonates the device, given that sipping his coffee would have prevented him from detonating the device? According to Shabo, the crucial thing to recognise is that the 'up to us' locution introduces an intensional context (Shabo 2014: 379). Typically, an intensional context is one where the substitution of co-referring terms does not preserve truth. To use Shabo's example: Rob is the masked man, and Peter believes that the masked man robbed the poor box. But we cannot infer from this that Peter believes that Rob robbed the poor box because 'believe' introduces an intensional context (Shabo 2014: 379). The intensional context introduced by the 'up to us' locution explains why it is possible that it is up to Jones whether he takes a sip of coffee, and that his taking a sip of coffee would lead to him not being blameworthy, and yet it not be the case that it was up to Jones whether or not he was blameworthy. A similar thing is true when Black's intervention is involved, as the following case shows: (Fresh Cup) Suppose that Jones's coffee isn't poisoned but that Black knows that Jones's deciding to take a sip of coffee is a sure sign that he is having second thoughts about detonating the device. If Jones takes a sip of coffee, Black will intervene and force Jones to complete the activation code on time (Shabo 2014: 387). As before, it's up to Jones whether he takes a sip of coffee. But although Jones's taking a sip of coffee will result in him being blameless, it is not up to him whether he is blameless. On the basis of these observations Shabo makes the following distinction between enabling alternatives (Shabo 2014: 385): 39Robustness and Up-to-us-ness (Non-robust enabling alternative) Consistent with the past and the laws, it's possible that the agent performs a different action (or refrains from acting), and, further, she has the power or ability to realize this possibility. Even so, the agent lacks a robust alternative possibility, one that could plausibly ground her moral responsibility for what she does, because it isn't up to her whether this possibility is realized. (Robust enabling alternative) As above, except the ability is such that, in virtue of possessing it, it is up to her whether this alternative possibility is realized. Such an agent has a robust alternative possibility, one that could plausibly ground her moral responsibility for what she does. Shabo goes on to connect the 'up to us' locution to the epistemic component included in recent formulations of robustness criteria. Here is a recent robustness criterion from Derk Pereboom which includes an epistemic element: For [an] agent to have a robust alternative to her immoral action A ... it must be that (a) she instead could have voluntarily acted or refrained from acting as a result of which she would be blameless, and (b) that for at least one such acting or refraining, she is cognitively sensitive to its being available to her, with the result that she believes to some significant degree that had she voluntarily so acted or refrained she would be, or would likely be, blameless (Pereboom 2012: 301). Shabo contends that the need for "the epistemic dimension added by clause (b) is a consequence of the fact that an alternative possibility is robust only if it's up to the agent whether that possibility is realized; in short, this epistemic dimension is implicit in this kind of power attribution" (Shabo 2014: 395). Shabo appears to be saying here that the epistemic criterion1 needs to be satisfied in order 1 The relevant condition is frequently referred to as an epistemic condition even though it is widely accepted that it does not require knowledge. I will follow this terminology. Simon Kittle40 for the power attribution most relevant to free will to be attributable. That is, the kind of condition identified by Pereboom in the above robustness criterion belongs to the power or ability that is relevant to free will; it does not belong, for example, to a separate "epistemic condition on moral responsibility." As we might put it: knowledge is power-or, control. This is a departure from the view which separates the freedom or control condition on moral responsibility from the epistemic condition on moral responsibility-a view which, if not the orthodox position, is certainly one significant strand in contemporary writing. Such a view is widely endorsed by those on both sides of the debate over the compatibility of moral responsibility and determinism (See Fischer and Ravizza 1998, Ginet 2000, Timpe 2011). The following kind of example from Carl Ginet motivates the separation of epistemic and freedom conditions: (Simon) Simon enters the hotel room he has just checked into and flips what appears to be, and what he takes to be, an ordinary light switch, but, to his surprise and consternation, the flipping of the switch sets off a loud fire alarm (Ginet 2000: 269). On this view, Simon doesn't bear any moral responsibility for setting off the fire alarm because he didn't know he was setting off the fire alarm. Simon is in control of flipping the switch, and because flipping the switch results in the fire alarm going off, Simon is also in control of setting the off the fire alarm. If, however, the relevant power attribution includes an epistemic component in virtue of which it introduces an intensional context then this conclusion does not follow. Alfred Mele (2010) has recently presented a number of arguments for thinking that what is typically treated as a separate epistemic condition on moral responsibility may in fact be an epistemic aspect of what is required in order to have the control associated with free will. And prior to both Shabo and Mele, Alvin Goldman (1970, 1972) and Peter Morriss (1987) made similar distinctions which they took to be helpful when discussing control. It is this approach-treating these epistemic requirements as relevant to the agent's control-that I will pursue in the following section via a discussion of the 'up to us' locution. Although this locution is often used in discussions of free will it is not often discussed in depth. 41Robustness and Up-to-us-ness In the following section I seek to answer two questions: first, what kind of abilities ground the truth of the 'up to us' locution? Second, are the abilities associated with the 'up to us' locution necessary for moral responsibility? 3 Up-to-us-ness and abilities 3.1 The 'up to us' locution Shabo suggests that the power attributions relevant to free will are those which ground the truth of the 'up to us' locution. Here we must be careful, however, because just as there are many different kinds of ability, so the 'up to us' locution can be used in different ways. In particular, it can take different kinds of complement. Sometimes it is used with actions: (1) It's up to me whether or not I turn on the light. (2) It's up to me whether or not I invite you to the party. Other uses show that the complement may be filled in with a nonactional state of affairs: (3) It's up to me whether or not the stone is on the grass. (4) It's up to me whether or not the stream is blocked. Both are acceptable but it is crucial to distinguish between them because the contention of those who defend the PAP concerns primarily the agent's control over his or her actions. It is not a point about the control an agent has over arbitrary, non-actional states of affairs, as might be thought if statements such as (1) and (2) were confused with those like (3) and (4). The main reason for this is an asymmetry that exists between actions and (non-actional) states of affairs. Take a proposition P which asserts the occurrence of some dated state of affairs. Once the relevant time comes it must be the case that either P is true or ~P is true. And this means that when the 'up to us' locution takes a non-actional state of affairs as its complement it requires the agent to have the power to render P true and also the power to Simon Kittle42 render ~P true. For (3) to be true, for example, I need to be able to bring it about that the stone is on the grass and able to bring it about that the stone is not on the grass. With (4), I need to be able to block the stream and be able to unblock the stream. When the 'up to us' locution has a non-actional complement, then, it requires that the agent have the ability to bring about and the ability to prevent an event of the very same type. This is not the case when the 'up to us' locution has an action as its complement. The natural way of reading (1), for example, is that I'm able to turn on the light and also able to refrain from turning on the light. In other words, the negative side of the locution-what the 'not' in the 'whether or not' attaches to-requires that the agent be able to refrain from something. But to refrain from something is not equivalent to the negation of the state of affairs of the agent's performing the action. Let P be the proposition that I turn on the light. The negation of that proposition is it is not the case that I turn on the light. But it's not being the case that I turn on the light does not entail that I refrained from turning on the light. If I drop dead before even thinking about the light then the statement 'it is not the case that I turned on the light' is true but I didn't refrain from turning on the light. Ezio Di Nucci (2011: 119, 124) has discussed how this distinction is important for zeroing in on what PAP is about; part of my purpose here is to place this distinction in the larger context of the workings of the 'up to us' locution. To summarise: in statements (1) and (2) the 'not' in 'whether or not' does not generate the negation of the locution's complement, but a proposition describing a refraining. In (3) and (4), however, the 'not' produces the negation of the proposition which is the complement to 'up to us'. To put it somewhat differently: a proposition affirming the occurrence of a non-actional, dated state of affairs and the negation of that proposition are contradictories; a proposition affirming the performance of an action and its "negation" are contraries. This asymmetry is hugely important. The dual-power or ability that the defender of PAP-the leeway incompatibilist-thinks is important is not, as might be suggested by (3) and (4), the power to bring about non-actional state of affairs P and the power to bring about non-actional state of affairs ~P. Now, it's common enough for 43Robustness and Up-to-us-ness agents to have such powers. I might have the power to bring about the stone's being on the grass and the power to bring about the stone's not being on the grass. But this kind of power, common as it might be, is stronger than what the leeway incompatibilist requires. The leeway incompatibilist's demand for avoidability only need concern actions. It is the conflation of these two sets of abilities, I suggest, that leads people to find Frankfurt-style cases in any way plausible, and in section 4 I'll show how being aware of it helps us to see where the buffer cases go wrong. In the remainder of this section I will only be concerned with the 'up to us' locution as it appears in (1) and (2). There is a further complication that needs addressing before we can continue. Shabo claims that the abilities which ground the truth of the 'up to us' locution include an epistemic component and that as a result the locution introduces an intensional context. I agree with the former point, but the latter point is not straightforward. As we've seen, intensional contexts are standardly defined as those contexts where the substitution of co-referring terms does not preserve truth. But with respect to the 'up to us' locution, what is it that the coreferring terms refer to? The obvious answer is: actions. But here we encounter a difficulty, for whether different descriptions of what someone does ever co-refer depends on how one individuates actions. For example, on Goldman's (1970) view actions are exemplifications of properties at times. Moreover, Goldman adopts a fine-grained view of property individuation and his comments make it clear that he would consider taking a sip of coffee to be a different property to rendering oneself morally blameless. Therefore, these descriptions of what Jones does will never co-refer. I will bypass this complication by adopting a coarse-grained theory of action individuation such as that found in Anscombe 1963. Such a view of action will make the idea easier to apply: 'Jones's taking a sip of coffee' may indeed refer to what 'Jones's rendering himself morally blameless' refers to, so we can accept Shabo's characterisation of things in terms of intensional contexts. 3.2 Abilities: non-intentional vs. doxastic, weak vs. reliable In order to answer the question of which kind of abilities ground the truth of the 'up to us' locution I will outline a few different notions of Simon Kittle44 ability. Each kind of ability outlined below should be understood as an intrinsic ability that is maximally specific, that is, fully specified with respect to the circumstances referenced. I also assume here that to have free will the agent will need an opportunity to exercise the relevant ability. I have argued for both these claims at length in Kittle 2015. The first kind of ability to consider is, plausibly, that behind nonrobust enabling alternatives; I shall label it non-intentional ability: (Non-intentional ability) An agent S is non-intentionally able to A in circumstances X if and only if (i) S is able to intentionally B in circumstances X, and (ii) S's intentionally B-ing in X would be his A-ing. A few words of explanation are in order. First, this is evidently not a reductive analysis: clause (i) of the explanans requires the agent to be able to intentionally B. Moreover, because clause (i) requires that the agent be able to intentionally B, the account is parasitic on an account of what it is to be able to do something intentionally. Second, non-intentional ability defines an ability property in terms of an action and a set of circumstances, X, even though it is a kind of intrinsic ability. In other words, it is the ability-to-A-in-X that is possessed rather than merely the ability-to-A. Again, I have argued for this in Kittle 2015. Non-intentional ability is a very broad notion of ability. If the agent can intentionally B, then the agent will have the non-intentional ability to do anything that would result from his B-ing. Here's an example: suppose that Phillip flips a light switch and as a result the tungsten filament heats up to its standard operating temperature of around 2500 degrees C. Phillip doesn't know this-he has no idea the filament is made of tungsten. Still, Phillip is non-intentionally able to raise the temperature of the filament to 2500 degrees C. Similarly for all the causal consequences which would follow reliably from his flipping the switch-the reliability condition is built into clause (ii). Jones, in the Fresh Cup example, has the non-intentional ability to prevent himself from being blameworthy. This explains the sense in which we can affirm that Jones is able to prevent himself from being blameworthy. But it also explains why that isn't much 45Robustness and Up-to-us-ness help, and doesn't render the alternative robust: non-intentional abilities bestow little, if any, control. Now consider the following kind of ability: (Doxastic ability) An agent S is doxastically able to A in X if and only if (i) S is able to intentionally B in circumstances X, and (ii) S's intentionally B-ing in X would be his A-ing, and (iii) S is "cognitively sensitive" to the fact that that by B-ing he would be A-ing. By using the phrase 'cognitively sensitive' I intend to draw on Pereboom's recent work on the robustness criteria (Pereboom 2009, 2012). I therefore use the phrase as a placeholder for the precise conditions which the agent needs to satisfy in order to be 'cognitively sensitive'. Moreover, it is expected that those conditions will be just those conditions which are usually discussed under the banner of "the epistemic conditions on moral responsibility" (See Ginet 2000: 270ff and Timpe 2011: 18). It is not my purpose here to give an account of such a set of conditions but rather to provide additional support for Mele's suggestion that such conditions might be best thought of as part of the control condition and then, given that background, to discuss the 'up to us' locution and the latest Frankfurt-style cases. Why think that the 'cognitive sensitivity' condition belongs to the control condition? Consider the following example: (Trapped Tom) Tom is in a building which is currently ablaze. He has only one route of escape not blocked by the flames, but the route is blocked by a locked door protected by an electronic keypad. The combination is '453322' but Tom does not know this. Tom has the non-intentional ability to escape. That's because he is able to intentionally type '453322' into the keypad, and if he did so, the door would open and he could get to safety. Is Tom in control of whether he escapes? According to some of those who endorse a strict separation of the control and epistemic conditions on responsibility he is. But this is implausible. Suppose that Tom's brother Tim is Simon Kittle46 trapped in a different corridor also protected by a locked door with a keypad. Tim is unfortunate, but not as unfortunate as Tom, because Tim knows the combination to the door which blocks his way. Intuitively, Tim has more control than Tom: it is up to Tim whether he escapes but it is not up to Tom whether he escapes. The account of doxastic ability can explain this: Tim has but Tom lacks the doxastic ability to escape. The two notions of ability so far articulated require that there be a reliable connection between the agent's B-ing and the agent's A-ing (indicated by the 'would' in clause (ii)). Sometimes, however, it is only the case that an agent's B-ing might be his A-ing. If the agent knows this, would that be enough for control? In the following section I will suggest that sometimes the answer is yes. I will therefore define two further notions of ability which parallel the two outlined above but which replace the occurrence of 'would' in each of the clauses (ii) and (iii) with a 'might.' I will call these weak abilities:2 weak non-intentional ability (though we will have little use for this) and weak doxastic ability. I will not write both definitions out but for illustrative purposes the definition for weak doxastic ability is as follows: (Weak doxastic ability) An agent S is doxastically able to A in X if and only if (i) S is able to intentionally B in X, and (ii) S's intentionally B-ing in X might be his A-ing, and (iii) S is "cognitively sensitive" to the fact that that by B-ing he might be A-ing. With that framework in place, I will now seek to answer the questions posed at the close of section 2: first, what kind of abilities ground the truth of the 'up to us' locution? Second, are the abilities associated with the 'up to us' locution necessary for moral responsibility? 2 Of course, the singling out of 'reliable' and 'weak' abilities in this way is a simplification; the reliability of abilities is best thought of as a spectrum. 47Robustness and Up-to-us-ness 3.3 Abilities and up to us Pereboom and Shabo each require that an agent be able to bring about the alternative reliably; witness Pereboom's use of "would or would likely be" in his robustness criterion. This suggests that what Pereboom and Shabo want to endorse is the idea that the 'up to us' locution should be understood as involving reliable doxastic abilities: (Up to us) It is up to the agent whether or not she A-s in circumstances X if and only if: (i) The agent has the reliable doxastic ability to A in X, and (ii) The agent has the reliable doxastic ability to refrain from Aing in X. In fact, however, neither is committed to this. This is because in the literature on Frankfurt-style cases the robustness criterion is typically formulated only with reference to the "alternative sequence". That is, it is assumed that the agent has performed an action and then it is asked what it takes for the alternative to be robust. On this retrospective approach nothing is said about the kind of ability that the agent actually exercised in producing her behaviour; the focus is entirely on the kind of ability the agent needed to have to realise the alternative possibility. So while Pereboom and Shabo are committed to something like clause (ii) they are not committed to anything like clause (i). This is fortunate because I want to suggest that when it comes to the control associated with free will (i) is too strong. If this is right, then either Up to us is an incorrect characterisation of the 'up to us' locution or an agent can freely A without A being up to the agent. Here is an example, adapted from Robert Kane (1996: 55), which motivates the idea that (i) is too strong: A plant worker places some radioactive material in his boss's office with the intention of killing him. Over a period of time, before being discovered, the radioactive material emits enough radiation into the worker's boss in order to produce a fatal cancer. It was genuinely indeterminate whether the material would emit enough radiation to give the worker's boss cancer. Simon Kittle48 Among the plant worker's abilities are the following: The reliable doxastic ability to place the material in his boss's office The reliable doxastic ability to refrain from placing the material in his boss's office Of course, the plant worker is responsible not just for putting some radioactive material in his boss's office but also for killing his boss: that is what he intended to do, and that is what he did. What kind of ability did the plant worker have to do this? I think the answer is the following: The weak doxastic ability to kill his boss This is because the worker can do something which might-but only might-result in his boss's death. If this is right, then the worker has the ability to kill his boss and the ability to refrain from killing his boss but these are different kind of abilities: his doxastic ability to kill his boss is weak while his doxastic ability to refrain from killing his boss is reliable. Is it up to the worker whether he kills his boss? No. It would be strange to say that it was up to the worker whether he killed his boss and that is because the 'up to us' locution does indeed require a certain level of reliability. More precisely, it suggests that clause (i) of Up to us is on the right lines. This might be challenged in the following way. Though it's somewhat intuitive that it's not up to the plant worker whether he kills his boss, nevertheless it clearly is up to the plant worker whether he refrains from killing his boss. He can ensure that he refrains from doing so. And it might be thought that this is because the following statements are true: The worker has the reliable doxastic ability to refrain from killing his boss The worker has the weak doxastic ability to kill his boss This, it might be thought, speaks in favour of requiring a reliability condition on only clause (i) of the account of 'up to us'. But this is too quick and would be to make a mistake similar to that made by those who conflate dual-power over non-actional, dated states of af49Robustness and Up-to-us-ness fairs with dual-power over actions. If the complement to 'up to us' is he refrains from killing his boss, then the second ability which Up to us requires the worker to have will be the reliable doxastic ability to refrain from refraining to kill his boss. And this, I think, is an ability the worker does have because he has the reliable ability to try to kill his boss. This is an interesting point about the 'up to us' locution: the phrase 'it's up to me whether or not I A' requires that I be able to reliably refrain from A-ing, but to refrain from refraining to A does not require being able to reliably A, so the truth of the phrases 'it's up to me whether I A' and 'it's up to me whether I refrain from A-ing' are not grounded by the same abilities-they both require the ability to reliably refrain from A-ing, but the second ability in each case differs. Now, if it's not up to the plant worker whether he kills his boss, yet he is morally responsible for it, then the control which grounds that responsibility does not require the control required by the 'up to us' locution. I offer the following as a tentative proposal for the kind of control which is capable of grounding responsibility: (Freely able) An agent is able to A freely in circumstances X if (i) The agent has the weak doxastic ability to A in X, and (ii) The agent has the reliable doxastic ability to refrain from Aing in X. On this account, when an agent is freely able to A it will not (necessarily) be up to the agent whether he A-s, but it will be up to the agent whether he refrains from A-ing. Clause (i) is subject to an 'if' but not an 'only if' because possessing a stronger ability to A would also secure the required control. (Recall too that my discussion has been limited to intrinsic abilities; the agent also needs the opportunity to A in X.) If correct, this account would (a) explain the close association between alternative possibilities and 'up to us', (b) retain the reliability criterion on 'up to us', and (c) explain the agent's responsibility in cases like that of the plant worker. In the final section I will show how to apply this account to Frankfurt-style cases. Simon Kittle50 4 The mixed response to indeterministic Frankfurt-style cases 4.1 The leeway incompatibilist's task If we accept some kind of doxastic condition on control then finding a robust alternative is not just a matter of finding an enabling alternative, we need to find the right kind of enabling alternative. Shabo thinks that this makes it harder for the leeway incompatibilist to respond to Frankfurt-style cases. In particular, Shabo argues that once we recognise this doxastic condition it will be all the more evident that cases like Fresh Cup are counterexamples to the Principle of Alternative Possibilities. I will show why Shabo's contention is mistaken, but it is important to focus on the right Frankfurt-style cases. The leeway incompatibilist in fact needs to say very little about Fresh Cup because it is an illegitimate case: it employs a prior sign which Shabo takes to be a reliable indicator of Jones's decision and behaviour. But the leeway incompatibilist will reject the idea that there could be such a reliable indicator of a free decision. This is because Fresh Cup falls prey to what is known as the Dilemma Defence and which runs as follows: either the prior sign that indicates what Jones will do is deterministically connected to his decision or not. If it is, then the leeway incompatibilist will be under no obligation to agree that Jones is responsible; if it isn't, then Black cannot expunge all of Jones's alternatives.3 The No Cup and Original Cup cases also succumb to the Dilemma. The only cases the leeway incompatibilist needs to address are those cases designed to avoid this dilemma. I think the so-called buffer cases are the strongest cases in this category and will address them below. In pursuing this strategy I am suggesting that the Dilemma Defence and the so-called Flicker Defence-the pointing to "flickers" which are capable of grounding the agent's responsibility (Fischer 1994)-should be deployed together. This strategy is not ad hoc because the Dilemma Defence simply forces the Frankfurtian to provide a case which does not prejudge the very question at issue. 3 David Widerker's (1995) is a useful formulation of the Dilemma Defence. 51Robustness and Up-to-us-ness 4.2 The indeterministic buffer cases: a mixed response The buffer cases have the following structure. Rather than employ a prior sign which operates as a reliable indicator of what the victim in the Frankfurt-style case will do, they employ a prior sign which is a necessary but not sufficient condition for the agent acting in some way. Thus, the agent cannot perform the alternative action unless the prior sign occurs, but after the prior sign occurs the agent still needs to make a decision to perform that alternative action. Pereboom, one of the first to present a buffer case, has offered the following example: (Tax Evasion (2)) Joe is considering claiming a tax deduction for the registration fee that he paid when he bought a house. He knows that claiming this deduction is illegal, but that he probably won't be caught, and that if he were, he could convincingly plead ignorance. Suppose he has a strong but not always overriding desire to advance his self-interest regardless of its cost to others and even if it involves illegal activity. In addition, the only way that in this situation he could fail to choose to evade taxes is for moral reasons, of which he is aware. He could not, for example, choose to evade taxes for no reason or simply on a whim. Moreover, it is causally necessary for his failing to choose to evade taxes in this situation that he attain a certain level of attentiveness to moral reasons. Joe can secure this level of attentiveness voluntarily. However, his attaining this level of attentiveness is not causally sufficient for his failing to choose to evade taxes. If he were to attain this level of attentiveness, he could, exercising his libertarian free will, either choose to evade taxes or refrain from so choosing (without the intervener's device in place). However, to ensure that he will choose to evade taxes, a neuroscientist has, unbeknownst to Joe, implanted a device in his brain, which, were it to sense the requisite level of attentiveness, would electronically stimulate the right neural centers so as to inevitably result in his making this choice. As it happens, Joe does not attain this level of attentiveness to his moral reasons, and he chooses to evade taxes on his own, while the device remains idle (Pereboom 2012: 302–3). In this example Joe has to decide whether to claim an illegal tax Simon Kittle52 deduction. The necessary but not sufficient condition for his refraining is that he considers the moral reasons against evading taxes. But Joe might consider the moral reasons and-if there were no Frankfurtian intervener-still go on to evade taxes. It is this feature that supposedly circumvents the force of the Dilemma Defence because there is no way it can be argued that the prior sign deterministically causes Joe's decision to evade taxes. However, given the availability of this prior sign it seems that the neuroscientist is able to arrange things such that Joe has no robust alternatives. The alternative which does remain-Joe's reaching the required level of attentiveness to moral reasons, and subsequently having his brain electrically stimulated by the neuroscientist's device to choose to evade taxes-is, Pereboom argues, not robust. This is because although the alternative is one where Joe doesn't bear any moral responsibility, Joe himself does not realise this. At this point, leeway incompatibilists might wonder whether they could accept the two intuitions that we are supposed to have with respect to Joe and explain Joe's moral responsibility in terms of derivative responsibility. When an agent is derivatively responsible, the agent is responsible for some unavoidable action because there was some prior time at which the agent could have acted so as to not subsequently face an unavoidable action. The paradigm examples are drunk driver cases: Derek drives drunk and hits someone at t2; he could not have done any different at t2 because his drunken state drastically reduced the control he had; still, he could, at t1, have decided not to drink, or given his keys to a friend, and so on. David Widerker has applied this idea to Joe's case, suggesting that Joe is "derivatively blameworthy for the decision he made, because he has not done his reasonable best ... to avoid making it" (Widerker 2006: 173). Granted, Joe couldn't have decided to not evade taxes. But Joe could have considered moral reasons and this was something he should have done. Moreover, if Joe had been more attentive to moral reasons, he would have been "forced by the neuroscientist to [decide to evade taxes]" and so would not himself be responsible for his decision (Widerker 2006: 173). So Joe's failure to consider moral reason makes him derivatively responsible for his subsequent decision to evade taxes. The Frankfurtian can easily avoid Widerker's objection, however, 53Robustness and Up-to-us-ness by amending the example to remove the feature on which it relies, namely, that the available option is something the agent should do. Pereboom (2012: 307) has subsequently pursued this line of thought, proposing instead that in order to be able to make the free choice to decide not to evade taxes Joe has to, say, imagine being severely punished. Given that imagining being severely punished is not something agents have a moral obligation to do when deliberating, Widerker's derivative responsibility objection cannot get started. Although useful this amendment is, as Pereboom (2012: 307) says, not needed. Widerker's appeal to derivative responsibility gains illicit plausibility from the fact that we would ordinarily assume that Joe would think that his considering moral reasons might lead him to decide not to evade taxes. That is, we ordinarily think that one way of deciding not to do something is by attending to the moral reasons there against doing it. Attending to the moral reasons against evading taxes is, in other words, plausibly thought to be a means to the end of deciding not to evade taxes. But Pereboom is clear that Joe does not know that considering moral reasons is a means to the end in question. Pereboom's amendment is useful because by making the prior mental action something that is a little unusual, we are not tempted to think that Joe will see it is a means to the end. Pereboom is correct in his evaluation of Widerker's derivate responsibility objection; however, this does not show that appeals to derivative responsibility are out of place. It simply shows that Widerker was off target in his choice of what to trace back to in order to ground Joe's responsibility. Widerker's attempt to trace back to Joe's failure to consider moral reasons is a bit like attempting to explain a drunk driver's responsibility for running someone down by tracing back to his decision to get into his car. By the time the driver "decides" to get into his car, it's already too late: he's already lost control. To explain the driver's responsibility, we need to trace back to a time when the driver had the requisite control, i.e., to a time when he wasn't drunk. One thing to recognise at this point is that we need to appeal to derivative responsibility only if Joe doesn't know that the necessary but not sufficient prior sign is a means to the end of not evading taxes. There is where the mixed nature of the response comes in. If the Simon Kittle54 agent in a buffer case knows4 that the necessary but not sufficient prior sign is a means to an end where he would be blameless, then we can affirm that the agent has the requisite control. This is one reason why it is crucial to recognise that the cognitive conditions on robustness belong in an account of ability and not on the epistemic condition on moral responsibility: the agent's knowledge affects his control. In other words, if Joe had the doxastic ability to claim the illegal tax deduction, and he had the reliable doxastic ability to refrain from evading taxes (which he would have, if he knew that attending to moral reasons was the means to that end), then Joe would have the requisite control and the example would be no problem. Before moving on to the scenario where Joe doesn't have that knowledge I want to offer a few comments regarding the case if we assume that Joe does have this knowledge. I have just stated that Joe would have the reliable doxastic ability to refrain from evading taxes. It might be objected that this is patently false: it's inevitable that Joe evades taxes in the scenario, because if he attends to moral reasons, the neuroscientist will begin his intervention. It is at this point that the distinction introduced in section 3.2 becomes vital. It is actions that need to be avoidable, not non-actional, dated states of affairs. An agent will bear responsibility for a particular decision only if that particular decision is avoidable. And the decision to evade taxes for which Joe is responsible was avoidable. Moreover, on the current assumptions the alternative is robust: Joe knew just what he had to do to avoid making the decision that he in fact made. Now, the Frankfurtian might object here, complaining that there is an inevitable state of affairs concerning Joe's decision-that Joe decides to evade taxes-which shows that the decision wasn't avoidable. Note that this is only the case if we allow that a person can be caused to decide, and, moreover, caused to decide in a particular way. Many leeway incompatibilists would reject (at least) the latter idea. But in any case, if we clearly distinguish between the performance of a particular decision and a state of affairs which affirms that a decision of that type has been made, the leeway incompatibilist could accept that a person can be caused to decide something and still hold on to PAP. 4 Or is suitably "cognitively sensitive" to this fact. 55Robustness and Up-to-us-ness For if we allow that people can be caused to decide, then what the Frankfurtian needs to show is not just that Joe can be responsible when the state of affairs that Joe decides to evade taxes is inevitable, but that he can be responsible even when the state of affairs that Joe decides on his own to evade taxes is inevitable. And that he has not shown. Let us now return to the case where Joe doesn't have these beliefs, and so doesn't have the required doxastic abilities (see 3.2). My suggestion is that if Joe is responsible, then what we have is a case of derivative responsibility. Consider the situation: we are told that Joe is deliberating about whether to claim the illegal tax deduction. And we're told that Joe's moral character is such that he "invariably" follows his self-interested desire. Indeed, he doesn't have the ability that the leeway incompatibilist thinks is required to decide not to evade taxes-Joe could only (unknowingly) gain that ability by doing something unrelated to it. But this means that the "decision" to evade taxes that it is stipulated he makes, if we can indeed call it a decision, is something which flows, pretty much automatically, from Joe's character. Indeed, it is hard to see what kind of control Joe exercises over this "decision." In what sense is he active? Maybe he's able to affect just when he makes the decision: he might make the decision at t1, or perhaps at t2, or maybe he could postpone it until tomorrow. But sooner or later this "decision" is going to flow from his desires, and there is nothing he can do (in the sense relevant to free will and control) to stop it. Now, the leeway incompatibilist can readily agree that a person might be responsible for behaviour which flows from his character in this way. But as highlighted by the scare quotes, he will probably hesitate to say that intentions acquired in this way are decisions, and he might even hesitate to call the resulting behaviour an action. Still, he can affirm that the person is responsible by appealing to derivative responsibility. And this provides a plausible way of handling Joe's case. We might imagine, for example, that Joe was brought up by pious parents who inveighed against the greed inherent in much of modern society and who tried to bring Joe up to be a good citizen. Joe listened patiently enough but decided he was going to put the gratification of his desire for money ahead of all others. He vigorously pursued this goal by deliberately choosing, on many different occasions, to shut out moral considerations. Indeed, Joe did this with Simon Kittle56 joy, knowing that he would soon develop the habit of pursing his own self-interests. Now, as Joe faces this decision about taxes, he will evade taxes pretty much "on autopilot," as we might say. Nevertheless, he's derivatively morally responsible for making the illegal tax deduction in virtue of those decisions which were made in order to form his character in a certain way. So the leeway incompatibilist can accept all the details of the case, if it is suitably filled out. Of course, if the case is filled out differently, such that it's clear Joe isn't responsible for the character traits from which the decision flows, then the leeway incompatibilist can simply deny that Joe is responsible. Either way, we do not have a successful Frankfurt-style case. Conclusion In this essay I have investigated the interesting idea that some of the conditions typically treated as part of the "epistemic condition on moral responsibility" are better thought of as affecting what the agent controls. I have distinguished between notions of ability which include a doxastic component and those that do not, and have investigated how this distinction helps us to understand different levels of control that an agent might possess. I made what I took to be an important distinction between an agent's control over her actions and her control over non-actional, dated states of affairs, highlighting two different uses of the 'up to us' locution which reflect this distinction. And I then applied these insights to the indeterministic buffer Frankfurt-style cases, arguing that a mixed response to these cases, dependent on whether the agent has any doxastic abilities, shows how these cases pose no problem for the defender of the Principle of Alternative Possibilities.5 Simon Kittle Department for Christian Philosophy Karl-Rahner-Platz 1, A-6020 Innsbruck, Austria [email protected] 5 This work was in part supported by the Templeton World Charity Foundation through Grant No. TWCF0078/AB46. 57Robustness and Up-to-us-ness References Alvarez, Maria. 2009. Actions, thought-experiments and the 'principle of alternate possibilities'. Australasian Journal of Philosophy 87(1): 61–81. Anscombe, G.E.M. 1963. Intention. 2nd edition. Oxford: Blackwell. Di Nucci, Ezio. 2011. Frankfurt versus Frankfurt: a new anti-causalist dawn. Philosophical Explorations 14(1): 117–131. Fischer, John Martin. 1994. The Metaphysics of Free Will: An Essay on Control. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers. Fischer, John Martin and Mark Ravizza. 1998. Responsibility and Control: A Theory of Moral Responsibility. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Frankfurt, Harry. 1969. Alternate possibilities and moral responsibility. Journal of Philosophy 66(3): 829–39. Ginet, Carl. 2000. The epistemic requirements for moral responsibility. Noûs 34(s14): 267–277. Goldman, Alvin. 1970. A theory of human action. Englewood Cliffs New Jersey: Prentice Hall. Goldman, Alvin. 1972. Toward a theory of social power. Philosophical Studies 23(4): 221–268. Kane, Robert. 1996. The Significance of Free Will. New Edition. New York: Oxford University Press. Kittle, Simon. 2015. Abilities to do otherwise. Philosophical Studies 172(11): 3017–35. Mele, Alfred. 2010. Moral responsibility for actions: epistemic and freedom conditions. Philosophical Explorations 13(2): 101–111. Morriss, Peter. 1987. Power: A Philosophical Analysis. Manchester: Manchester University Press. Naylor, Margery Bedford. 1984. Frankfurt on the principle of alternate possibilities. Philosophical Studies 46(2): 249–258. Pereboom, Derk. 2009. Further thoughts about a Frankfurt-style argument. Philosophical Explorations 12(2): 109–118. Pereboom, Derk. 2012. Frankfurt examples, derivative responsibility, and the timing objection. Philosophical Issues 22(1): 298–315. Shabo, Seth. 2014. It wasn't up to Jones: unavoidable actions and intensional contexts in Frankfurt examples. Philosophical Studies 169(3): 379–399. Timpe, Kevin. 2011. Tracing and the epistemic condition on moral responsibility. The Modern Schoolman 88/1/2: 5–28. Widerker, David. 1995. Libertarianism and Frankfurt's attack on the principle of alternative possibilities. Philosophical Review 104(2): 247–261. Widerker, David. 2006. Libertarianism and the philosophical significance of Frankfurt scenarios. Journal of Philosophy 103(4): 163–187.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS Fabrizio Cariani Stalnaker's Indicative Conditionals (1975, henceforth ic) is not primarily about conditionals. I would call this a "secret" if Stalnaker didn't go to some lengths to tell us himself, emphasizing that the essay's main goal is to showcase the power of a general-purpose theoretical framework and not to solve isolated puzzles in conditional semantics (ic, §VI). My aim is to introduce the central cogs, the main innovations and the general significance of that framework. Since ic does lead with a puzzle about indicative conditionals, that's what I'll do as well. §1-2 reconstruct the puzzle and Stalnaker's solution; §§3-5 develop three research themes that emerge out of ic. My focus throughout will be on unpacking Stalnaker's views and working through some of the unfinished agenda of ic.1 1 The core puzzle 1.1 Background ic stages a competition between two analyses of conditional (if...then...) sentences. Some notation first: I use the two-place connective 'I' to symbolize our target-the conditional construction. The two connectives we will consider should be thought of as possible candidates for the meaning of 'I'. I use 'A', 'B', 'C' as variables ranging over sentences. The material conditional A ⊃ C is true at world w iff either A is false at w or C is true at w. According to the material analysis, the material conditional is the correct semantic value for 'I'. 1For that reason, I will not survey the whole debate in which it fits. For broader surveys, see Gillies (2012, forthcoming). 1 2 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS The selectional conditional A > C is true at world w iff C is true at the world v that is the closest A-world to w.2 According to the selectional analysis, the selectional conditional is the correct semantic value for 'I' (Stalnaker, 1968; Stalnaker and Thomason, 1970). I call it 'selectional' because the model theory for a conditional language including '>' is often presented in terms of a "selection function" sel that inputs a proposition p and an evaluation-world w and outputs the selected world in p from w's perspective. Famously Stalnaker thinks that selection is grounded in facts about similarity between worlds. For that reason, he supplements the selectional analysis with restrictions on closeness, and so on selection functions. The theoretical task is to incorporate one of these analyses, the material or the selectional, in a theory that accurately predicts which inferences involving conditionals are ordinarily judged valid by speakers of a language like English. 1.2 The puzzle Minimal assumptions about the logic of if make it equivalent to the material conditional. "Collapse", as we call it, happens if AIC and the corresponding material conditional A⊃C are co-entailing. Using '|−' to denote entailment, we can write this as follows: collapse. A I C |− A ⊃ C The left-to-right direction of collapse follows from modus ponens (and little else).3 modus ponens. AI C,A |− C Stalnaker's focus is on the right-to-left entailment. All it takes to derive this is the plausible claim that sentences like either Ada was guilty or 2This demands the existence and uniquess of a closest world. An important debate thread in conditional semantics has focused on these demands. See Lewis (1973); Stalnaker's replies are in his (1981) and (1984, ch.7). 3The literature features many interesting attempts to invalidate modus ponens (McGee, 1985; Lycan, 1993; Kolodny and MacFarlane, 2010). Moreover, as Khoo (2013) makes clear, Kratzer's semantics for conditionals (Kratzer, 1991, 2012) also invalidates modus ponens. These should not be dismissed, but they aren't ways of avoiding collapse results because attempts to invalidate modus ponens do not usually extend to bare conditionals. That is, they do not extend to conditionals whose antecedents and consequences are not modal sentences, like if Ada is innocent, Carmen is guilty. A form of collapse that is restricted to bare conditionals is no better than general collapse. Fabrizio Cariani 3 Carmen was entail sentences like if Ada wasn't guilty, Carmen was. In schematic form:4 or-to-if. A∨C |− ¬AIC.5 To see this, suppose A ⊃ C; by truth-functional equivalence, we get (¬A∨C); but if the direct argument is valid, AIC follows (assuming double-negation elimination). Perhaps the argument for collapse is an invitation to start loving the material analysis.6 But, Stalnaker argues, that isn't such a great path either. If if were the material conditional, then negating If Ada is not guilty, then Carmen is guilty should entail Ada is guilty. That seems wrong: one may negate AI C by way of putting forward some alternative conditional A I B, without settling the status of A. For instance, one may negate If Ada is not guilty, then Carmen is, by putting forward If Ada is not guilty, then Barbara, but not Carmen, is guilty, while leaving it open whether Ada is guilty. After all, allowing for these kinds of hypothetical disagreements appears to be precisely what conditionals are for.7 Formally, we want: negated conditionals. ¬(AI C) 6|− A Unfortunately, the material analysis cannot fulfill that wish. That's the puzzle: if you like modus ponens, and or-to-if, you will quickly get collapse. But collapse is bad, among other things because it violates the negated conditionals desideratum. A subtler, modern take on this puzzle (Gillies, 2004, 2009) accepts collapse but rejects the material analysis. According to this view, the conditional might well be co-entailing with the material conditional but co-entailment does not suffice for identity of meaning. In fact, it might not even suffice for logical equivalence-depending on how logical equivalence is understood. This view does not appear to be on ic's radar-and indeed, ic's theoretical development is a key step on the path that leads to it. For this reason, I mention it here out of duty to the fuller dialectic but I will refrain from developing it further. 4Stalnaker calls this "the direct argument"; the 'or-to-if' nomenclature comes, I believe from Bennett 2003. 5Adams (1975, p.15) gives an example that purports to show or-to-if to be probabilistically invalid. What he means by this is that there are cases in which A∨C has high probability while ¬AI C has low probability. 6Possibly supplemented by implicature-based moves in the style of Grice 1989; Lewis 1976; Jackson 1987. 7See Edgington (1995) for a comprehensive array of nails in the material conditional's coffin. 4 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS The only other option is to reject the validity of or-to-if. This is what happens with '>'. Of course, we didn't need the collapse result to know that or-to-if fails for '>'. It is easy to sketch a counterexample. Suppose that in the actual world (w) Ada alone is guilty (A), but in the closest world in which she is innocent (v), Bo is guilty (B) and Carmen is not (C). ABC w ABC v ABC z Then ¬A > C is false at w even if A ∨ C is true there. The additional value of the collapse result is the implication that invalidating or-to-if is required to avoid co-entailment with the material conditional. Here, then, is ic's local puzzle: how might we invalidate or-to-if while accounting for its plausibility? 2 Stalnaker's solution Stalnaker solution is that or-to-if, though invalid, is pragmatically acceptable. Spelling this out is a two-part task. The first step is to explain how an inference pattern might be acceptable even if invalid. To this end, Stalnaker develops the concept of "reasonable inference". Then, one must check that instances of or-to-if count as reasonable inferences. The explicit inspiration is Grice's pragmatic defense of the material analysis (Grice, 1989, ch. 4). Like Grice, Stalnaker proposes that much of the inferential profile of the conditional comes from features that are not determined by its truth-conditions. One difference is that, while Grice primarily applies the theory of implicatures to prune off some unwanted entailments of the material conditional, Stalnaker's central concern is that the selectional conditional undergenerates the acceptable inference patterns. Moreover, the patterns it misses are not rescued by the theory of implicatures. There are important novel elements in Stalnaker's approach. I mention three. One: Stalnaker's system relies on constraints tied to the use of specific lexical items in context (see below for illustration). By contrast, the theory of conversational implicatures (at least, in vintage-Grice version) only leverages general principles about rationality and cooperation between conversational participants. Two: the acceptability of some reasonable inferences depends on relationships between the information conveyed and the common ground. Three: the account appeals to pragFabrizio Cariani 5 matic principles that are themselves formalizable. Indeed, the appendix to ic goes to some lengths to state the pragmatic theory formally. 2.1 Introducing Reasonable Inference It is worth quoting Stalnaker's characterization of reasonable inference in full. More recent appeals to ic's playbook often rely on simplified notions that have different structural properties from the original.8 [A]n inference from a sequence of assertions or suppositions (the premisses) to a conclusion is a reasonable inference just in case in every context in which the premises can be asserted or supposed, it is impossible for anyone to accept the premises without committing himself to the conclusion. (ic , p. 271) Let us break down the main technical concepts in this definition with an eye towards coming up with an algorithm for testing reasonableness. Context: A Stalnakerian context is a record of those propositions that are commonly accepted by the participants to a conversation. Stalnaker's thinking on the nature of context is complex and evolves over four decades (Stalnaker, 1974, 1978, 2002, 2016). One thing that stays constant is the idea that each context c is associated with a set of possible worlds-the context set of c. In particular, the context set of c is the set of worlds that verify each of the propositions that are common ground in c. Since the context set is the only feature of context we need to attend to, I will deliberately conflate contexts and their context sets. Commitment and context acceptance: It is somewhat surprising to see Stalnaker talk about speakers' commitments. However, the technical appendix to ic reveals that talk of speaker's commitment is just shorthand for talk about the shared elements of context. The possible world 8For example, reasonable inference is sometimes lumped together with the relation of "quasi-validity" (see e.g. Kolodny and MacFarlane, 2010, fn. 39). An argument is quasi-valid if, whenever the premises are known, the conclusion must also be known. Quasi-validity might function in some similar respect like reasonable inferenece (Nolan, 2003, p. 231), but it is significantly different in concept and mechanics. The closest ancestor to quasi-validity is the concept of "doxastic indefensibility" developed by Hintikka (1962) to account for Moore's paradox. Other nearby notions that are often associated with reasonable inference are Veltman's (1996, p.224) validity2 (aka update-to-test, in the terminology of van Benthem 1996 and Gillies 2004) and validity3 (aka test-to-test, or also informational consequence in the terminology of Yalcin 2007). Finally, the distinction between preservation of truth and preservation of acceptance also shows up in the debate surrounding McGee's counterexamples to modus ponens (see for example, McGee, 1985, p.90). 6 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS framework Stalnaker adopts allows definitions that clarify the relevant cluster of concepts. unstructured contents. |A| = {w |A is true at w} context acceptance. c accepts A iff c ⊆ |A|.9 context incompatibility. c is incompatible with A iff c∩ |A| = ∅ A successful assertive utterance of A in c updates c to cA = c∩ |A|. To say that a speaker who assertively utters A in c is committed to some other proposition p is just to say that cA ⊆ p. Assertibility. The definition of reasonable inference quantifies over contexts in which the premises can be asserted (or supposed). To understand this restriction, note that in the background of ic is the idea that assertive utterances come with requirements that the context must meet-as we may call them, presuppositions. Some (though not all) of these requirements are specifically tied to the use of particular lexical items. One cannot assertively utter Raz returned to Valencia in a context that doesn't that Raz ever was in Valencia. Stalnaker's account of or-to-if essentially references the constraints imposed on context by conditionals and disjunctions. The reasonable inference test. Let's put this all together. To check whether C is a reasonable inference from premises A1, ...,An. • consider an arbitrary context c in which all the premises are assertible. • let c′ be the context that results from asserting all of the premises in sequence. • the inference is reasonable if and only if c′ accepts C. 2.2 Stalnaker's explanation at a glance It is useful to break down Stalnaker's account of or-to-if into two modules-a general module and one for card-carrying Stalnakerians. The general module, which I introduce in this section, does not presuppose the possible-worlds framework. It only presupposes that there is some way of cashing out the relevant concepts of compatibility and acceptance, such that the following principles are satisfied: 9In ic, context acceptance is a relation between a context and a set of worlds. For exposition purposes, I prefer to define it as a relation between contexts and sentences (but one that treats any two sentences that have the same unstructured content in the same way). Fabrizio Cariani 7 d-constraint. A∨C is assertible in c only if c is compatible with ¬A & C and c is compatible with A & ¬C. d-update. Successful assertive utterance of A ∨ C in c updates c to a context that is: • incompatible with ¬A & ¬C. • compatible with ¬A & C if c was. c-acceptance. If c is incompatible with ¬A & ¬C and c is compatible with ¬A & C, then c accepts ¬AI C. d-constraint is justified on familiar Gricean grounds. d-update is a direct consequence of the account of assertive update I sketched in §2.1 according to which c′ = c∩ |A∨C|. As for c-acceptance, it might be defended in a variety of ways, depending on one's semantics for conditionals. I introduce Stalnaker's defense of c-acceptance for §2.3. For now, let us check that this is enough to classify or-to-if as a reasonable inference. 1. Let c be an arbitrary context in which A∨C is assertible. 2. By d-constraint, c must be compatible with ¬A & C. 3. Let c′ be the result of updating c with the assertion of A∨C. 4. By d-update and 2., c′ is incompatible with ¬A & ¬C but compatible with ¬A & C. 5. By c-acceptance and 4., c′ must accept AI C. 2.3 Inside Stalnaker's box I postponed the defense of c-acceptance. Here it is, in Stalnaker's words: pragmatic constraint. If the conditional is being evaluated at a world in the context set, then the world selected must, if possible, be within the context set as well. [...] In other words, all worlds within the context set are closer to each other than any worlds outside it. (ic, pp. 275-276) The formal upshot is that selection functions must satisfy the following constraint (where sel denotes the selection function itself):10 10Stalnaker gives a different condition-namely: ∀w ∈ c, sel(A,w) ∈ c. This condition does not match the informal presentation of the constraint. However, the condition 8 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS ∀w ∈ c and z < c, sel(w,A) = z only if c∩ |A| = ∅ In turn, this constraint is justified as follows: Normally a speaker is concerned only with possible worlds within the context set, since this set is defined as the set of possible worlds among which the speaker wishes to distinguish. So it is at least a normal expectation that the selection function should turn first to these worlds before considering counterfactual worlds - those presupposed to be non-actual. (ic, pp. 276) Some comments in bullet-point format: • c-acceptance only holds by default, or in normal circumstances. This should draw our attention to those cases in which this default presumption is suspended. For instance, Stalnaker remarks that it is suspended by subjunctive conditionals, like if I had a house, it would not have a front-yard. (ic, p. 276-277). • The pragmatic constraint breaks the visual analogy between spatial distance and modal similarity. Consider: w1 w2 w3 w4 w5 c In this depiction, w2 is spatially closer to w1 than it is to w5. But because both belong to the context set c, w2 and w5 must be more similar to each other than w2 is to w1. It should be immediately apparent that this is no accident of the depiction: given any depiction of logical space as a convex set, worlds in c can be chosen that are arbitrarily close (spatially) to worlds outside c. Of course, there are ways to depict the structure of logical space that is imposed by the pragmatic constraint, especially if the depiction is allowed to include points that do not correspond to worlds. does follow from a strengthening of the pragmatic constraint which I am about to discuss. Another thing to consider is whether this stronger condition might be weakened by appealing to accessibility relations. While ic's formalism is a notch looser than Stalnaker (1968) and Stalnaker and Thomason (1970), both these earlier works involve an accessibility relation. In a recent paper, Mandelkern (2018) proposes a role for accessibility relation that bears directly on the formal analysis of the pragmatic constraint. Fabrizio Cariani 9 Pictorial musings aside, there is a broader theoretical point. If we try to supplement Stalnaker's proposal with a theory of contextdynamics, the pragmatic constraint will require that every (nonempty) informational update to the context must also rearrange the ordering of modal similarity. Moving back to the main argumentative thread, Stalnaker uses the pragmatic constraint to support: antecedent compatibility. AI C presupposes that A is compatible with the context set (ic, p. 277). This idea has been influential and it is sometimes simply quoted in place of the original constraint. However, it is clear that pragmatic constraint does not entail antecedent compatibility. The former, but not the latter, is trivially satisfied if there are no antecedent worlds in the context set. ic's text strongly suggests that what fills the gap between pragmatic constraint and antecedent compatibility is the availability of the subjunctive conditional as a tool to talk about worlds out of the context set (more on this in the next section). However, it is unclear exactly what principles are relied on in this derivation. Be all that as it may, the pragmatic constraint is enough for the job at hand. Fact 1 Given the framework, pragmatic constraint entails c-acceptance Proof: See appendix for proof of this and other facts. That completes the official path to a pragmatic explanation of or-toif. There are, of course, other paths that leverage other theories of the conditional. As an illustration, let '→' denote a strict conditional restricted to the context set. That is, say that A→ C is true at w and context c iff c is incompatible with A & ¬C. Then: Fact 2 If entailment is defined as preservation of truth at a world and a context, A∨C 6|− ¬A→ C. Fact 3 However,→ satisfies c-acceptance. Given Fact 3, or-to-if for→ can too be rescued as a reasonable inference. I don't mean to take this point very far, but it does show that the main 10 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS strategy of ic is not exclusively available to defenders of the selectional analysis. 3 Interlude: indicative vs. subjunctive conditionals It is a remarkable feature of Indicative Conditionals that one of its digressions opened its own research thread. The digression in question concerns the distinction between indicative and subjunctive conditionals. There are many important contrasts between indicatives and subjunctives. The central contrast in ic's dialectic is that indicatives and subjunctives pattern differently with respect to information that is settled by the common ground. Contrast: (1) #Ada is guilty. If she isn't, Carmen is. (2) Ada is guilty. If she weren't, Carmen would be. There is an incongruence in (1), as if the speaker is changing their mind or hedging their assertion. No such incongruence affects (2). One might account for contrasts like this by distinguishing two kinds of conditional connectives. According to this view, (1) uses "the indicative conditional" and the (2) uses "the subjunctive conditional". Stalnaker would have us avoid this approach. According to him, we can hold on to a single meaning for if, while also explaining how indicative and subjunctive conditional sentences diverge in meaning. From a pragmatic point of view, Stalnaker thinks that subjunctives are not subject to either version of the pragmatic constraint. Interestingly, this pragmatic suggestion has a syntactic basis. The syntactic proposal is that subjunctive conditionals feature one ingredient that is not present in indicatives: subjunctive mood. Here is how a toy, ic-inspired syntax for (2) might go. Let s-mood be a sentential operator that captures the effect of subjunctive mood. (3) s-mood(Ada is not guilty) > would(Carmen is) Many authors have since questioned the link between "subjunctive mood" and counterfactuality. The alternative view (Dudman, 1983, 1984; Lycan, 2001; Iatridou, 2000; Ippolito, 2013; Starr, 2014; Khoo, 2015) is that "subjunctivity" comes from an extra layer of past tense on the antecedent. What is special about this extra layer is that it does not appear (at least on the surface) to get a past interpretation.11 As Iatridou 11There is a further debate, including among the authors I cited, as to whether the Fabrizio Cariani 11 notes, this is especially salient when "fake past tense" is restricted by future adverbials, as in: (4) If Odysseus returned tomorrow, his dog would recognize him. Despite this, the right perspective on the legacy of ic should be that, though it might have gotten the syntactic details wrong, it helped advance the powerful idea that subjunctive meaning ought to be constructed out of the syntactic ingredients of subjunctive conditionals.12 The other key component of ic's account of the contrast is the idea that there are pragmatic differences between indicatives and subjunctives. As I mentioned, the proposal is that subjunctive conditionals are not subject to the pragmatic constraint. But how is that supposed to work, given that we have already rejected the idea that if is ambiguous? Stalnaker sketches an interesting proposal: I take it that the subjunctive mood in English and some other languages is a conventional device for indicating that presuppositions are being suspended, which means in the case of subjunctive conditional statements, that the selection function is one that may reach outside of the context set. (p. 276) This is how I read this: the pragmatic constraint is a presupposition introduced by if.13 However, it can be lifted by other devices. Stalnaker's idea seems to be that, while presuppositions are requirements on context, some phrases may suspend those requirements (in other words: introduce permissions). I find this idea fascinating, interestingly counter to the current orthodoxy, and deserving of careful development. As far as I know, it hasn't received one. It is natural to see this lack of development as a significant lacuna. For instance, Starr writes: Why [...] did Stalnaker not propose a meaning for the subjunctive mood and construe the different propositions expressed by subjunctive and indicative conditionals as a function of this mood's contribution? (Starr, 2014, p. 1031) modal force of subjunctive conditionals might be recovered by giving that past tense an ordinary past interpretation. 12It should be mentioned that a critical step in this path was the application of Kratzer's (1991; 2012) framework to conditionals. 13This might need to be massaged a bit in light of the fact that Stalnaker is skeptical about the idea of semantic presupposition, Stalnaker 1974). But I don't see a way of reading the text of ic without linking the presupposition to this lexical item. 12 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS I think that Starr is exactly right. It is not enough to point to an extra syntactic constituent, be it mood or tense, and claim that it might do the job. Much of the best contemporary work on the indicative/subjunctive contrast (including that of the authors I mentioned in this section) is precisely directed at developing a compositional account. Additionally, Starr (2014, p.1030) identifies some technical issues with Stalnaker's approach to the indicative/subjunctive contrast which are well worth working through-though space prevents me from doing that here. 4 On the intransitivity of reasonable inference Arguably, the most important contribution of ic is the introduction of the concept of reasonable inference. Earlier, I have noted three innovations: (i) that reasonable inference involves formalizable principles, (ii) that it is anchored by non-truth-conditional features of the meaning of particular lexical items, and (iii) that it involves relations between utterances of conditional sentences and the common ground. In light of these innovations, it is natural to view the concept of reasonable inference as a critical step on the path to dynamic notions of consequence (á-la Veltman 1996). But it would be hasty to assimilate Stalnaker's notion of reasonable inference and the dynamic concepts of consequence. Stalnaker himself has recently emphasized some differences between the dynamic semantics program and his preferred "dynamic pragmatics" (Stalnaker, 2016). Here, I want to emphasize some under-explored structural features of reasonable inference. In particular, I will focus on the little-known-butobvious-once-you-see-it fact that reasonable inference is intransitive.14 I argue that the intransitivity of reasonable inference might come with some explanatory benefits. However, I will also question whether Stalnaker is in a position to reap those benefits, given some of the other commitments he undertakes in ic. More than anything else, my aim is to stress that there are under-explored choice-points in developing the theory of reasonable-inference. Let us use ' ' to symbolize the reasonable inference relation and restate its definition: A1, ...,An C if and only if for all contexts c, if all of the Ai are assertible in c and c′ is the result of asserting all of the Ai 's in sequence, c′ accepts C. 14I learned this from Simon Goldstein and I have not found the issue discussed elsewhere. Fabrizio Cariani 13 Here are some important facts concerning . First, every semantically valid argument is a reasonable inference. Fact 4 if Σ |= C then Σ C Second, the inference from a sentence to its presuppositions is always reasonable. Fact 5 if A presupposes C, then A C Given these facts, it is easy to check that is intransitive in the following sense. Fact 6 (intransitivity) Let Σ be a set of sentences. Σ B and B C do not guarantee Σ C In establishing this, it is convenient (but, as I will show shortly, not essential) to add to the formal language a possibility operator ♦ that tracks what is compatible with the context set. So, ♦A is true at w in c iff c∩ |A| , ∅. By d-constraint a disjunction A∨C is only assertible in those contexts that are compatible with ¬A & C. In particular, A∨¬A requires that c be compatible with ¬A & ¬A. Though I have defined compatibility as a relation between contexts and sentences, the relation treats intensionally equivalent sentences in the same way. In other words, compatibility with ¬A & ¬A reduces to compatibility with ¬A. Using our new possibility operator, we say that A∨¬A presupposes ♦¬A. Thus, by Fact 5, A∨¬A ♦¬A However, A∨¬A is a logical truth; given Fact 4, it can be reasonably inferred from the empty set of premises (i.e. every context accepts it). By contrast, ♦¬A cannot be reasonably inferred from the empty set of premises. Putting it all together: A∨¬A A∨¬A ♦¬A 6 ♦¬A  14 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS Though this fact is surprising, there is nothing intrinsically problematic about it. Reasonable inference is a technical concept that is invoked to play a certain role-to characterize the acceptable patterns of inference. There is no a-priori reason why that job should be best played by a transitive notion. Still, we may ask whether intransitivity is indispensable to Stalnaker's explanation. A useful first experiment in this direction is to compare with its transitive closure. Define + as the smallest transitive relation that extends . Since + extends , it classifies or-to-if as acceptable. More generally, any empirical comparison between and + must be based on inferences that are sanctioned as acceptable by + but not by . This comparison reveals some unique advantages of . One of the advantages of Stalnaker's theory is that it doesn't validate the paradoxes of material implication. The theory invalidates both these patterns: false antecedent. ¬A |− A > C true consequent. C |− A > C Not only are these patterns invalid, they are also not reasonable, in the sense of . However, both are sanctioned as acceptable by +. We can see this by noting another violation of transitivity for : Fact 7 (i) ¬A ¬A∨C (ii) ¬A∨C A > C but (iii) ¬A 6 A > C I give this proof in the main text because it illustrates some of the critical elements I have been drawing attention to. (i) follows from Fact 4. (ii) is the reasonable-inference analogue of or-to-if for '>'. As for (iii), let c be a context in which ¬A's presuppositions are satisfied and also such that all the A-worlds are ¬C-worlds. Consider some arbitrary world w ∈ c¬A. To evaluate A > C at w we must reach out of c¬A. We do know however that all the A-worlds outside of c¬A are ¬C-worlds, so sel(A,w) < |C|, which must mean that A > C is false at w. Note that pragmatic constraint is vacuously Fabrizio Cariani 15 satisfied in c¬A, since there are no A-worlds to select. Furthermore, antecedent compatibility is violated. However, neither of these is incompatible with (iii).  By contrast, because + is transitive and extends , (i) and (ii) force A + A > C. Many theorists accept the validity of false antecedent and true consequent as the cost of doing business. But the intransitive Stalnakerian package undoubtedly maps onto clear intuitions. Consider: (5) Ada is not guilty (6) Either Ada is not guilty or Carmen is guilty (7) If Ada is guilty, Carmen is guilty The intransitive package predicts that: • the inference from (5) to (6) is reasonable • the inference from (6) to (7) is also reasonable • the inference from (5) to (7) is not reasonable. These predictions seem just right and a system relying on intransitive notions is uniquely positioned to capture them.15 None of this is a conclusive argument for Stalnaker's intransitive package. Any such argument would require a much more systematic analysis than what I can offer here. But it does mean that the intransitive package shows up to the jury of theory-choice criteria with a unique profile. That is all good, but there is one more twist. The official story of ic is a bit more complicated than the story I just told. We can see this by attending to Stalnaker's discussion of the contraposition pattern. contraposition. A > C |− ¬C > ¬A Like or-to-if, contraposition sounds plausible in the indicative case but not in the subjunctive case (Stalnaker 1968, p. 107; Lewis 1973, §1.8). Once again, Stalnaker proposes to invalidate the general pattern, while explaining the plausible cases via reasonable inference. Unfortunately, this strategy doesn't work. 15For some related technical work involving an intransitive notion of entailment, see Cariani and Goldstein (forthcoming). 16 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS Fact 8 The reasonable-inference analogue of contraposition fails. (i.e. A > C 6 ¬C > ¬A). Stalnaker suggests a patch: Strictly, [contraposition] is reasonable only relative to the further assumption that the indicative conclusion is not inappropriate" (Stalnaker, 1975, note 15) What could it mean that an inference pattern is reasonable relative to a further assumption? One possibility is that there isn't one, monolithic notion of reasonable inference, but a family of them. In addition to , we ought to consider what I'll call Strawsonian Reasonable Inference. A1, ...,An S C if and only if for all contexts c, if all of the Ai are assertible in c and c′ is the result of asserting all of the Ai 's, if C is assertible in c′, then c′ accepts the proposition corresponding to C. This is just like reasonable inference, except for the underlined bit. Moreover, just like reasonable inference S is intransitive (it is easy to check that the instance of intransitivity I sketched in establishing Fact 6 also works for S). In essence S is a pragmaticized version of Strawson Entailment.16 Since S extends , we can update the Stalnakerian proposal to the claim the acceptable arguments are exactly the ones that are captured by S . So, does this Strawsonized package catch contraposition, as Stalnaker claims? It depends. Fact 9 If the presupposition of indicatives is antecedent compatibility, then contraposition, true consequent and false antecedent are all Strawsonian Reasonable Inferences. Fact 10 If the presupposition is just the pragmatic constraint, then none of contraposition, true consequent and false antecedent count as Strawsonian Reasonable Inferences. 16In a trivalent setting (e.g. in the context of a semantic account of presupposition), Strawson Entailment is equivalent to the claim that valid arguments are exactly those that cannot have true premises and false conclusions. (If this sounds like classical entailment, recall that in the trivalent setting the "standard" notions of consequence are preservation of truth and preservation of non-falsehood.) For discussion: Strawson (1952); Smiley (1967); von Fintel (1997); Cariani and Goldstein (forthcoming). Fabrizio Cariani 17 Two things are interesting here. One: there is a tradeoff between invalidating the paradoxes of material implication and classifying contraposition as acceptable. So it is not clear that Stalnaker can exploit the intransitivity of reasonable inference to avoid the paradoxes of material implication. Two: if we prioritize catching the contraposition pattern, we need the full force of antecedent compatibility. This is unlike or-to-if for which pragmatic constraint is enough. 5 On Fatalism The word limit for this essay is nearing, and I must catch up with Stalnaker application of ic's apparatus to the "idle" argument for fatalism (see also Dummett, 1964). Extra motivation here is provided by the recent publication of the contemporary gold standard on the idle argument (Bledin, forthcoming), and by the fact that the idle argument is closely connected with the much-discussed miners paradox.17 Consider: (1) Either this essay will be mistake-ridden or it will not be. (2) | Suppose it will be. (3) | If I am careful, the essay will be mistake-ridden. (4) | Being careful is ineffective. (5) | Suppose it will not be. (6) | If I am not careful, the essay will not be mistake-ridden. (7) | Being careful is unnecessary. (8) Being careful is either ineffective or unnecessary. A satisfactory diagnosis of the idle argument ought to identify where it fails and explain why each step appears compelling. Here are the highlights of Stalnaker's account: • The steps (2) ⇒ (3) and (5) ⇒ (6) are invalid, since they are instances of true consequent. • The inferences corresponding to each of these steps might be "saved" pragmatically by appealing to Strawsonized Reasonable Inference. • The application of constructive dilemma (or "reasoning by cases") in step (8) is not justified as a reasonable inference. That is: A C,B C does not guarantee A∨B C, 17Kolodny and MacFarlane (2010); Charlow (2013); Cariani et al. (2013); Willer (2012); Cariani (2016). 18 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS • Despite this, the last step appears compelling because constructive dilemma is valid when the subarguments are valid. The aggregated effect is that the premises of the argument do not entail its conclusion, nor is it possible to support the conclusion as a reasonable inference from the premises. However, the conclusion appears plausible because each step is justifiable by at least one of these relations. This dialectic is subtle and needs some unpacking. First, we need to clarify the claims about the constructive dilemma pattern. Contrast: cd. if A |− C and B |− C, A∨B |− C, rcd. if A C and B C, then A∨B C The key observation is that while cd states a true claim about the logic, rcd does not. Although every entailment is a reasonable inference, it is not the case that, for every true claim about entailment, there is a corresponding true claim about reasonable inference. Consider this analogy. The relationship between the concept of entailment and the concept of reasonable inference is, in the relevant sense, like the relationship between the concept of being a Roman and the concept of being Italian: instances of the former are guaranteed to be instances of the latter. That does not mean that for every true claim about Romans there is a true claim about Italians. This could fail in particular if the concept appears in the antecedent of a conditional (much like |− and do in cd and rcd respectively). For example, if Joe is a Roman, Joe lives within driving distance of the beach does not entail if Joe is Italian, Joe lives within driving distance of the beach. The observation that constructive dilemma behaves in this unusual way for some non-classical consequence relations that extend classical validity is important and it reappears in different guises in much of the contemporary discussion of information-sensitive modals.18 Another noteworthy item-our final one-is that the dialectic I spelled out at the end of §4 resurfaces here. The steps (2)⇒ (3) and (5)⇒ (6) both have the form of true consequent. As we know, true consequent is not a reasonable inference. Stalnaker acknowledges this (fn. 17) and claims that the steps are reasonable in the Strawsonian sense (i.e. according to S). As we know from Facts 9-10 this is only true if we stipulate antecedent compatibility. In fact, ic's account of the 18Some key references for the discussion of constructive dilemma in, and around, dynamic semantics: Veltman (1996); Yalcin (2012); Willer (2012); Bledin (2014, 2015, forthcoming); Marra (2014); Moss (2015); Charlow (ms.); Goldstein (ms.). Fabrizio Cariani 19 idle argument requires this particular combination ( S and antecedent compatibility). Given the essential role of that combination in capturing contraposition we likely should characterize it as the "official" version of ic's pragmatics. Acknowledgments Special thanks to Simon Goldstein and Paolo Santorio for conversations and exchanges on the ins and outs of this dialectic. Thanks to Justin Bledin, Matt Mandelkern, Zoltán Gendler Szabó and an anonymous referee for comments on the manuscript. Also thanks to David Boylan, Justin Khoo, John MacFarlane, Robert Van Rooij and Malte Willer for conversations and correspondences on these topics. Finally thanks to all three editors for the invitation and the volume's conception. Appendix Fact 1 Given the framework, pragmatic constraint entails c-acceptance Proof: Suppose that c is incompatible with ¬A & ¬C and c is compatible with ¬A & C. Now consider any world w in c. We must show that the closest ¬A-world to w is a C-world. By the pragmatic constraint, the ¬A & C-world v that is in the context set must be closer to w than any ¬A & ¬C world. Now, because Stalnaker's selection functions are grounded by an ordering of similarity, the closest A-world is either the closest ¬A & C-world or the closest ¬A & ¬C-world. But it cannot be the latter, so it must be the closest ¬A & C-world.  Fact 2 If entailment is defined as preservation of truth at a world and a context, A∨C 6|− ¬A→ C. Fix c and w so that A∨C is true at w and c but also so that the context c contains some ¬A & ¬C-world. (Note that I assume that disjunction is Boolean in the sense that the truthconditions of A∨C at w and c only depend on w.) So c is not incompatible with ¬A & ¬C, which would make ¬A→ C false.  Fact 3 However,→ satisfies c-acceptance. 20 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS Fix c and w. Suppose (i) c∩|¬A|∩|¬C| = ∅ and (ii) c∩|¬A|∩|C| , ∅. Note that (i) aloneis enough to guarantee ¬A→ C at every world within c which is what needed to be shown.  Fact 4 if Σ |= C then Σ C Fix a c in which every member of Σ is assertible. Let cΣ be the context resulting from the sequential update of c with every premise in Σ. Let |Σ| denote the set ⋂ {|A| |A ∈ Σ} . Because cΣ ⊆ |Σ| and |Σ| ⊆ |C|, cΣ ⊆ |C|, which is what we need to show to establish that→ satisfies the analogue of c-acceptance.  Fact 5 if A presupposes C, then A C Suppose c is an arbitrary initial context in which A is assertible. Since the assertibility conditions for A include C, we must have c ⊆ |C|. Since cA ⊆ c, we must have cA ⊆ |C|.  Fact 6 (intransitivity) Let Σ be a set of sentences. Σ B and B C do not guarantee Σ C. [proven in the main text] Fact 7 (i) ¬A ¬A∨C (ii) ¬A∨C A > C but (iii) ¬A 6 A > C [proven in the main text] Fact 8 The reasonable-inference analogue of contraposition fails. (i.e. A > C 6 ¬C > ¬A). This failure can be illustrated along the same lines as the failure of part (iii) of Fact 7. Let c be a context in which A > C's presuppositions are satisfied. Suppose that c only contains C-worlds, but also that there are some ¬C-worlds in the background model. Suppose however that all such ¬C-worlds are A-worlds. Let c′ be the result of updating c with A > C. Now, consider the evaluation of ¬C > ¬A in c′: since there are no ¬C-worlds in c′, the selection function must reach outside of it to find some ¬C-worlds. However, such worlds are A-worlds, so c′ does not accept ¬C > ¬A.  Fabrizio Cariani 21 Fact 9 If the presupposition of conditionals is antecedent compatibility, then contraposition, true consequent and false antecedent are all Strawsonian Reasonable Inferences. Let c be a context in which A > C's presuppositions are satisfied. Let c′ be the result of updating c with A > C. Because of Stalnaker's commitment to strong centering (if w makes A true, w is the closest A-world to itself), part of the effect of the update from c to c′ is to rule out all the A & ¬C-worlds. Now suppose c′ satisfies the presuppositions of ¬C > ¬A. This must mean that c′ contains a ¬C-world v. But we just argued that the A & ¬C-worlds have been excluded in the transition from c to c′. So v must be a ¬A & ¬C-world, and indeed this must be the case for any ¬C-world in v. Since the worlds in c′ are to be considered closer than the worlds out of c′, v (or some world relevantly like it) must be the closest ¬C-world. So the closest ¬C-world is a ¬A-world. This same argument, however, will go through for true consequent and false antecedent.  Fact 10 If the presupposition is just pragmatic constraint, then none of contraposition, true consequent and false antecedent count as Strawsonian Reasonable Inferences. The countermodel we constructed in establishing Fact 8 vacuously satisfies pragmatic constraint in the updated context. (Similarly for analogous countermodels for true consequent and false antecedent.)  Bibliography Adams, Ernest W (1975), The Logic of Conditionals (Springer). Bennett, Jonathan (2003), A Philosophical Guide to Conditionals (Clarendon Press). Bledin, Justin (2014), 'Logic informed', Mind, 123(490), 277–316. --- (2015), 'Modus ponens defended', The Journal of Philosophy, 112(2), 57–83. --- (forthcoming), 'Fatalism and the Logic of Unconditionals', Nous. 22 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS Cariani, Fabrizio (2016), 'Deontic Modals and Probabilities: One Theory to Rule Them All?', in N. Charlow and M. Chrisman (eds.), Deontic Modals, 11–46 (Oxford University Press). Cariani, Fabrizio and Goldstein, Simon (forthcoming), 'Conditional heresies', Philosophy and Phenomenological Research. Cariani, Fabrizio, Kaufmann, Magdalena, and Kaufmann, Stefan (2013), 'Deliberative modality under Epistemic Uncertainty', Linguistics and Philosophy, 36, 225–259. Charlow, Nate (2013), 'What We Know and What To Do', Synthese, 190, 2291–2323. --- (ms.), 'Modus Ponens and the Logic of Dominance Reasoning', University of Toronto. Dudman, Victor H (1983), 'Tense and time in English verb clusters of the primary pattern', Australian Journal of Linguistics, 3(1), 25–44. --- (1984), 'Conditional interpretations of if-sentences', Australian journal of linguistics, 4(2), 143–204. Dummett, Michael (1964), 'Bringing about the past', The Philosophical Review, 73(3), 338–359. Edgington, Dorothy (1995), 'On Conditionals', Mind, 104(414), 235– 329. von Fintel, Kai (1997), 'Bare Plurals, Bare Conditionals, and Only', Journal of Semantics, 14, 1–56. Gillies, Anthony S. (2004), 'Epistemic Conditionals and Conditional Epistemics', Noûs, 38(4), 585–616. --- (2009), 'On truth-conditions for if (but not quite only if )', The Philosophical Review, 118(3), 325–349. --- (2012), 'Indicative Conditionals', in Delia Graff and Gillian Russell (eds.), Routledge Companion to Philosophy of Language (Routledge). --- (forthcoming), 'Conditionals', in Alex Miller Bob Hale and Crispin Wright (eds.), Blackwell Companion to the Philosophy of Language, Blackwell (Oxford University Press). Goldstein, Simon (ms.), 'Free Choice and Homogeneity', Lingnan University. Fabrizio Cariani 23 Grice, Paul (1989), Studies in the Way of Words (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press). Hintikka, Jaako (1962), Knowledge and Belief: an Introduction to the Logic of the Two Notions (Cornell University Press). Iatridou, Sabine (2000), 'The grammatical ingredients of counterfactuality', Linguistic inquiry, 31(2), 231–270. Ippolito, Michela (2013), Subjunctive Conditionals (MIT Press). Jackson, Frank (1987), Conditionals (Oxford, England: Blackwell). Khoo, Justin (2013), 'A note on Gibbard's proof', Philosophical Studies, 166(1), 153–164. --- (2015), 'On indicative and subjunctive conditionals', Philosophers Imprint, 15(32), 1–40. Kolodny, Niko and MacFarlane, John (2010), 'Ifs and Oughts', Journal of Philosophy, 107(3), 115–143. Kratzer, Angelika (1991), 'Conditionals', in A. von Stechow & D. Wunderlich (ed.), Semantics: An International Handbook of Contemporary Research (De Gruyter). From the Semantics Archive. --- (2012), Modals and Conditionals (Oxford University Press). Lewis, David (1973), Counterfactuals (Blackwell). --- (1976), 'Probabilities of conditionals and conditional probabilities', The Philosophical Review, 85, 297–315. Lycan, William G (1993), 'MPP, Rip', Philosophical perspectives, 7, 411– 428. Lycan, William H (2001), Real Conditionals (Oxford University Press). Mandelkern, Matthew (2018), 'The case of the missing 'If': Accessibility relations in Stalnaker's theory of conditionals', Semantics & Pragmatics, 11(8), 1–5. Marra, Alessandra (2014), 'For a Dynamic Semantics of Necessity Deontic Modals', in International Conference on Deontic Logic in Computer Science, 124–138 (Springer). McGee, Vann (1985), 'A Counterexample to Modus Ponens', Journal of Philosophy, 82, 462–471. 24 ON STALNAKER'S INDICATIVE CONDITIONALS Moss, Sarah (2015), 'On the semantics and pragmatics of epistemic vocabulary', Semantics and Pragmatics, 8(5), 1–81. Nolan, Daniel (2003), 'Defending a Possible-Worlds Account of Indicative Conditionals', Philosophical Studies, 116(3), 215–69. Smiley, Timothy (1967), 'Mr. Strawson on the Traditional Logic', Mind, 76(301), 347–385. Stalnaker, Robert (1968), 'A theory of conditionals', Studies in Logical Theory, American Philosophical Quarterly, Monograph Series 2, 98–112. --- (1974), 'Pragmatic Presuppositions', in M.K. Munitz and P. Unger (eds.), Semantics and Philosophy (NYU Press). --- (1975), 'Indicative Conditionals', Philosophia, 5, 269–86. --- (1978), 'Assertion', in Context and Content (Oxford University Press). --- (1981), 'A Defense of Conditional Excluded Middle', in William L. Harper, Robert Stalnaker, and Glenn Pearce (eds.), IFS: Conditionals, Belief, Decision, Chance and Time, volume 15 of The University of Western Ontario Series in Philosophy of Science, 87–104 (Springer Netherlands). --- (1984), Inquiry (MIT Press (Bradford Books)). --- (2002), 'Common ground', Linguistics and philosophy, 25(5-6), 701–721. --- (2016), Context (Oxford University Press). Stalnaker, Robert and Thomason, Richmond H. (1970), 'A Semantic Analysis of Conditional Logic', Theoria, 36(1), 23–42. Starr, William B. (2014), 'A Uniform Theory of Conditionals', Journal of Philosophical Logic, 43(6), 1019–1064. Strawson, P. F. (1952), Introduction to Logical Theory (London: Methuen). van Benthem, Johan (1996), Exploring Logical Dynamics (CSLI Publications). Veltman, Frank (1996), 'Defaults in Update Semantics', Journal of Philosophical Logic, 25, 221–261. Fabrizio Cariani 25 Willer, Malte (2012), 'A Note on Iffy Oughts', Journal of Philosophy, 109, 449–461. Yalcin, Seth (2007), 'Epistemic Modals', Mind, 116(4), 983–1027. --- (2012), 'A Counterexample to Modus Tollens', Journal of Philosophical Logic, 41, 1001–1024.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Chapter 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction Diego E. Machuca The question of whether the Pyrrhonist1 adheres to certain logical principles, criteria of justification, and inference rules is of central importance for the study of Pyrrhonism. Its significance lies in that, whereas the Pyrrhonist describes his philosophical stance and argues against the Dogmatists by means of what may be considered a rational discourse, adherence to any such principles, criteria, and rules does not seem compatible with the radical character of his skepticism. Hence, if the Pyrrhonist does endorse them, one must conclude that he is inconsistent in his outlook. Despite its import, the question under consideration has not received, in the vast literature on Pyrrhonism of the past three decades, all the attention it deserves. In the present paper, I do not propose to provide a full examination of the Pyrrhonist's attitude towards rationality, but to focus on the question of whether he endorses the law of non-contradiction (hereafter LNC).2 However, I will also briefly tackle the question of the Pyrrhonist's outlook on both the canons of rational justification at work in the so-called Five Modes of Agrippa and the logical rules of inference. In addition, given that the LNC is deemed a fundamental principle of rationality, determining the Pyrrhonist's attitude towards it will allow us to understand his general attitude towards rationality. In Section 1, I briefly present and analyze the LNC by distinguishing its three most common formulations. This provides the necessary framework for examining 1I will employ interchangeably the terms "Pyrrhonist" and "Skeptic" (with a capital "S") to refer to the philosopher whose outlook is described and defended in Sextus Empiricus' surviving writings. I will say nothing about the outlooks adopted by Pyrrho, Timon, or Aenesidemus. Also, following Sextus, I use the term "Dogmatist" (δoγματικóς) to designate anyone who makes positive or negative assertions about how things really are on the basis of what he considers to be evidence and rational arguments. 2I should note that, when using the language of adherence, endorsement, or espousal, I refer to commitment to logical principles and epistemological criteria. By contrast, when speaking of observance, I will not necessarily presuppose any such commitment: the observance of, say, a rule may consist in simple obedience without strong adherence. D.E. Machuca (B) Consejo Nacional de Investigaciones Científicas y Técnicas (CONICET), Academia Nacional de Ciencias de Buenos Aires, Av. Alvear 1711, 1014 Buenos Aires, Argentina e-mail: [email protected] 51D.E. Machuca (ed.), Pyrrhonism in Ancient, Modern, and Contemporary Philosophy, The New Synthese Historical Library 70, DOI 10.1007/978-94-007-1991-0_4, C© Springer Science+Business Media B.V. 2011 52 D.E. Machuca the Skeptic's alleged commitment to that law. In Section 2, I lay out the reasons why he is supposed to endorse those three formulations of the LNC in much the same way as the Dogmatist, and examine the passages of Sextus Empiricus' extant corpus that seem to show unequivocally that such is the case. These passages appear to make it clear that adherence to the LNC rests at very the basis of the Pyrrhonist's skepticism, since suspension of judgment (ε'πoχή) seems to depend on commitment to that law. In Section 3, by contrast, I analyze a number of passages which can be taken as conclusive evidence that the Pyrrhonist is not actually committed to the three versions of the LNC presented in Section 1, but suspends judgment about their truth. I also speculate on some of the reasons for such a lack of commitment. In Section 4, I argue that the Skeptic's ε'πoχή regarding the LNC does not imply that he does not observe, motivated by psychological and practical reasons, certain qualified versions of this law when thinking, speaking, and acting. In doing so, I consider some objections that could be directed against the Skeptic's suspending judgment about the truth of the LNC. I also contend that the reason he makes use of what may be called the "dogmatic" versions of the LNC has to do with the therapeutic and dialectical side of his philosophy: since he tries to cure the rashness and conceit of the Dogmatists by argument, he needs to use those versions of the LNC in his argumentation because they are endorsed by the majority of his dogmatic patients. Although others have arrived at a conclusion about the Pyrrhonist's observance of the LNC which is similar to mine in certain respects, they have neither carried out a thorough analysis of this subject nor provided the necessary textual support for the interpretation just sketched. In Section 5, I argue that neither the uncommitted observance of a psychological version of the LNC nor the dialectical use of this law are isolated cases in the Pyrrhonist's philosophy, for something very similar happens both in the case of his ε'πoχή and in the case of his use of the Modes of Agrippa and the logical rules of inference. Finally, in Section 6, after summarizing the results of the previous analyses, I briefly address the question of whether the Pyrrhonist is an anti-rationalist. Although in examining the issues addressed in this paper I sometimes go beyond what is explicitly said in Sextus' surviving writings, my conclusions are in keeping with the Pyrrhonian way of thought, since I draw on what I take to be its conceptual and argumentative resources. 1 Three Versions of the LNC Three different versions of the LNC have been distinguished by scholars by examining Aristotle's discussion of this law in Metaphysics .3 These versions may be formulated as follows4: 3On Aristotle's discussion of the LNC, see Lukasiewicz (1971), Cassin and Narcy (1989), Wedin (1999, 2000, 2003, 2004a, 2004b), and Gottlieb (2007). 4The following taxonomy is based on Lukasiewicz (1971, pp. 487–8), and Gottlieb (2007, section 1). I must emphasize that, by offering the taxonomy, my sole purpose is to provide a useful and adequate tool for analyzing the Pyrrhonist's attitude towards the LNC. 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 53 Ontological version: it is impossible for the same attribute to belong and not to belong to the same thing at the same time and in the same respect (Met.  3 1005b19–20; cf.  4 1007b17–18, 6 1011b17–18, 21–22). In other words: it is impossible for x both to be F and not to be F at the same time and in the same respect. Logical version: it is impossible for contradictory propositions to be true at the same time and in the same respect (cf. Met.  6 1011b13–17, 20–21; 8 1012b2–3). This version is sometimes called "semantic" or "propositional." The symbolic form is: ¬ (p & ¬p). Doxastic version: it is impossible for two beliefs or opinions whose contents are expressed by contradictory propositions to exist simultaneously in one mind (cf. Met.  3 1005b23– 26, 1005b29–31). Some remarks about these three versions of the LNC are in order. First, the ontological version tells us how things in the world can and cannot be, that is, what forms reality can and cannot take. This obvious remark will be important when examining the Pyrrhonist's attitude towards the LNC. Second, the logical version is commonly construed as depending on the ontological version. Indeed, given that a proposition affirms or denies that an object possesses a given attribute, the reason two contradictory propositions cannot be true simultaneously is that objects in the world cannot hold contradictory attributes at the same time. Third, the doxastic version may be interpreted either descriptively or normatively. That is to say, it may be interpreted as the empirical claim that it is in fact impossible to hold contradictory beliefs, or as the normative claim that one ought not to hold such beliefs because it is not rational to do so (cf. Gottlieb 2007, section 1). In its normative sense, the doxastic formulation seems to rest on the logical formulation, since the reason it is irrational to hold contradictory beliefs at the same time seems to be that the contradictory propositions which express them cannot be true simultaneously. Understood descriptively, the doxastic version makes an assertion about the nature of the mind, since it affirms that we are unable to believe contradictory propositions at the same time. Finally, although someone might argue that the doxastic version rests on the ontological version (cf. Met.  3 1005b 26–32), it is clear that the doxastic version construed descriptively would still hold even if one proved the falsity of the ontological version. Indeed, it could be the case that, even if it were possible that contradictory attributes belong to the same thing at the same time and in the same respect, we would still not be able to conceive of such a state of affairs and, hence, to believe that the thing in question really has contradictory attributes. This brief presentation of the three most common formulations of the LNC proves to be necessary for the examination of the Pyrrhonist's outlook on that law. It must be noted that Sextus speaks of τὰ ε'ναντία (contraries) or τὰ α'ντικείμενα (opposites), not αι'α'ντιφάσεις (contradictories). However, in Hellenistic (e.g. Stoic) jargon, τò α'ντικείμενoν often refers to the contradictory, and not generically to the opposite. Also, in Metaphysics  Aristotle sometimes speaks of contraries rather than contradictories. We must bear in mind that the LNC governs both contradictory and contrary opposites, since neither contradictories nor contraries can both be true because they are inconsistent. In order to refer to both contradictories and contraries, I will often talk about "opposites." 54 D.E. Machuca 2 The Pyrrhonist's (Alleged) Commitment to the LNC At first glance, it seems obvious that the Pyrrhonist accepts the LNC in propria persona for at least three reasons. The first is that it is Sextus' observance of the LNC which makes it possible for us to understand the meaning of what he expounds in his writings. To begin with, if he did not observe that law, we would not be able to comprehend his account of the distinctive character of the Pyrrhonian philosophy in the first book of the υ ώνειoι 'Υπoτυπώσεις (PH). Indeed, it is clear that Sextus relies upon our giving definite meanings to his explanations of the way in which we must interpret the Pyrrhonian stance. For instance, at the beginning of PH he cautions that, with respect to none of the things that will be said in that work does he affirm that it is certainly just as he says it is, but that he merely reports the way things appear to him at the moment (PH I 4). Similarly, in a number of passages, he points out that Skeptics use the verb "be" in the sense of "appear" (PH I 135, 198, also Adversus Mathematicos [AM] XI 18–20).5 Also, an important portion of the first book of PH is devoted to making clear the sense of the Skeptical φωναί, i.e., the various expressions used by the Pyrrhonist for describing his experience and outlook. Sextus carefully explains the sense in which each φωνή must be interpreted so as to avoid ascribing dogmatic views to the Pyrrhonist: the Skeptical φωναί are not assertions about non-evident matters, but only reports of the Pyrrhonist's appearances (φαινóμενα) or affections (πάθη)6 (PH I 187–208). These passages show that it is crucial for Sextus that his readers correctly understand the phenomenological character of the Pyrrhonian discourse if they do not want to form an inaccurate picture of the Pyrrhonian outlook.7 It is also worth noting that, in some texts, he points out that certain objections directed against Skepticism are the product of misinterpreting what Pyrrhonists actually say (PH I 19, 200, 208). In those texts, Sextus explicitly urges us to attribute specific meanings to the terms and expressions used by the Pyrrhonist so as not to misunderstand his outlook. One could argue that he 5Although elsewhere I do not follow the common practice of using the title Adversus Mathematicos VII–XI to refer to the five extant books of Adversus Dogmaticos, I here do so to maintain consistency with the other essays in this volume. 6A πάθoς is a state or condition someone or something is in as a result of being affected by an agent. Although in ordinary English the word "affection" does not have this meaning, it has become in the specialist literature a technical term to render the Greek πάθoς. 7Rachel Barney (1992) rejects a wholly phenomenological (i.e., non-epistemic or non-judgmental) interpretation of the Pyrrhonist's discourse on the grounds that it cannot account for his consideration of arguments (see also Bailey 2002, pp. 221–9). Myles Burnyeat (1997) advances a similar objection but as a problem for the Pyrrhonist, since he adopts a non-epistemic interpretation of Pyrrhonism. Although I cannot discuss this issue here, I think that one flaw in the argument of these interpreters is that they fail to distinguish between believing/judging that p and having an inclination to believe/judge that p (see Machuca 2005, pp. 219–20; 2006, p. 134). For other interpretations which reject a wholly non-epistemic understanding of Sextan Pyrrhonism, see Frede (1997a, b) and Brennan (1999). 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 55 would, at least implicitly, agree with Aristotle in that, without the LNC, it is impossible to have a meaningful conversation or to make oneself understood, thereby being forced to accept that law. Aristotle maintains that, as soon as the person who rejects the LNC utters a word in order to signify something, he shows that he is committed to it (see Met.  4 1006a21–31; cf. 7 1012a21–24, 8 1012b5–8). In the case of Sextus, it seems that as soon as he utters a phrase reporting any one of his appearances or affections, he shows that he consciously or unconsciously espouses the LNC in its different dimensions.8 In addition, the polemical discussion of both the three parts into which postAristotelian philosophy was commonly divided (PH II–III, AM VII–XI) and of the six μαθήματα or liberal arts (AM I–VI) requires observance of the LNC so as to be able to comprehend the sense and scope of both the doctrines discussed and the arguments directed against them. This is most clearly seen in the passages in which Sextus tells us how to interpret the arguments the Pyrrhonist directs against the dogmatic theories. On some occasions he explicitly points out that, when he advances arguments yielding negative conclusions, his intention is not to induce us to give our assent to them. Rather, he wants to show that those arguments appear to be equal in force to the opposite arguments, so that we will have to suspend judgment about the truth of the theses that the conflicting arguments purport to establish.9 Also, in the final chapter of PH, Sextus explains that the Pyrrhonist propounds arguments which differ in their persuasiveness because, out of a philanthropic interest, he wants to cure by argument the rashness and the conceit of the Dogmatists. Hence, just as physicians employ remedies different in power to cure the different degrees of the disease that afflicts his patients, so too the Pyrrhonist employs arguments different in persuasive power to cure the different degrees of conceit and rashness that afflict his dogmatic patients (PH III 280–1).10 In these passages, Sextus explains the intention of the arguments he puts forward and it seems plain that it makes a difference to him whether we interpret those arguments the way he asks us to or the opposite way or both ways at the same time. Sextus therefore seems to rely consciously or unconsciously on the LNC in order both that his negative arguments are not construed dogmatically and that his argumentative therapy is clearly understood, since without that law we would be unable to draw distinctions, which in turn would make rational discussion impossible.11 8I say "unconsciously" because it is possible for a person either to adhere to the LNC without being aware of the fact that it is a precondition for meaningful language or to deny the LNC without realizing this fact. 9See PH II 79, 103, II 130, 133, 187, 192, III 29; AM VII 444, VIII 159–60, 298, 476–7, IX 206–7. 10On this passage, see Machuca (2006, pp. 150–3; 2009, pp. 102–9). 11It could be argued that the fact that, in composing his writings, Sextus seems to rely on the LNC does not entail that the Pyrrhonist portrayed in those writings does. However, given that Sextus is describing his own outlook and is therefore a Pyrrhonist, one may claim that that fact shows that, when communicating his stance and discussing with others, the Pyrrhonist seems to be consciously or unconsciously committed to the LNC. 56 D.E. Machuca The second reason for maintaining that the Pyrrhonist adheres to the LNC is that belief in this law is in the origin of the road that leads to Skepticism: as the various views on a given topic cannot all be accepted or held together because of being conflicting or incompatible, it is necessary to carry out an investigation intended to make it possible to choose among them. If this is not in fact possible, then one must suspend judgment about which of the conflicting views, if any, is correct. For instance, given that (i) honey appears sweet to some people and bitter to others (PH I 211, 213, II 63), (ii) it cannot be both at the same time and in the same respect, and (iii) it is not possible for the Skeptic to decide whether it is sweet or bitter, then (iv) he must suspend judgment about how honey really is. In a word, belief in the LNC in its ontological dimension appears to be what makes it possible for the protoSkeptic to become a full-fledged Skeptic: the former begun to philosophize in order to determine which appearances are true and which false (see PH I 12, 26) because opposite attributes cannot hold of one and the same thing at the same time and in the same respect. Given this apparent commitment to the ontological version of the LNC, it also seems clear that the proto-Skeptic thinks that it is impossible for opposite propositions to be true simultaneously and, hence, that it is not rational to hold opposite beliefs at the same time. One could also argue that part of the reason the proto-Skeptic suspends his judgment is that he believes that it is not in fact possible for opposite beliefs to exist at the same time in his mind. Finally, the third reason for attributing to the Pyrrhonist a commitment to the LNC is that this law appears to continue to govern the full-fledged Skeptic's thinking. Indeed, he continues to suspend judgment about all the non-evident matters he has investigated because he can assent neither to any one of the positions in conflict because they appear equipollent, nor to all of them because they are incompatible. With regard to the last two reasons for claiming that the Skeptic endorses the LNC, there are quite a few passages from Sextus' oeuvre which seem to support them explicitly. In the exposition of the Second Mode of Aenesidemus, Sextus observes that we cannot determine what things are by nature, but only report how they appear in relation to each of the differences among humans. The reason is that We will believe (πιστεύσoμεν) either all humans or some of them. If all, we will be attempting the impossible and accepting the opposites (καὶ α'δυνάτoις ε'πιχει ήσoμεν καὶ τὰ α'ντικείμενα πα αδεξóμεθα). But if some, let them say to whom it is necessary to assent. For the Platonist will say to Plato, the Epicurean to Epicurus, and the others analogously. Thus, since they quarrel in an undecidable way (α'νεπικ ίτως στασιάζoντες), they will lead us again to suspension of judgment. (PH I 88)12 This text presents two alternative roads which, in his search for truth, the Skeptic finds blocked: assent to all the positions in conflict and assent to one of them (cf. PH III 33–6). It is precisely because both roads are blocked that he is led to take a third, namely, suspension of judgment. In this passage, we seem to find a reference to the doxastic version of the LNC, since Sextus says that it is impossible to believe 12The translations of the passages from Sextus' works are my own, but I have consulted Annas and Barnes (2000), Bett (1997), Bury (1933–49), Mates (1996), Pellegrin (1997), and Spinelli (1995). 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 57 all humans because they have opposite opinions. Similarly, in the ethical section of the third book of PH, he tells us: If, then, the things which move by nature move everyone in the same way, whereas we are not all moved in the same way with respect to the so-called goods, nothing is good by nature. The reason is that it is not possible to believe (πιστεύειν) either all the positions expounded above, on account of the conflict [among them], or any one of them. (PH III 182; see also AM VIII 333a) The reason the latter alternative is ruled out is that the person who says that one must trust one of the positions in conflict is a party to the disagreement, and hence cannot be taken as an impartial judge. He will therefore have to be judged along with the others, but given that there is no agreed upon demonstration or criterion, we end up suspending judgment (PH III 182). As for the former alternative – namely, to believe in all the conflicting positions – it seems to be ruled out because it violates the doxastic dimension of the LNC. Indeed, as in the previous quoted passage, Sextus refers to the impossibility of believing in all the positions in conflict. Given both this impossibility and the impossibility of believing in any one of those positions, ε'πoχή is the attitude the Skeptic is compelled to adopt. In the chapter of PH III devoted to a discussion of time, Sextus mentions the various positions about the nature and substance of time that have been adopted and remarks that "either all these positions are true, or all are false, or some are true and some false" (PH III 138). He then rules out each of these alternatives and concludes that "we will not be able to affirm anything about time" (PH III 140), i.e., we will have to suspend judgment. Now, the reason for rejecting the first alternative is that most of the positions reviewed conflict (PH III 138). Sextus seems to endorse the logical or semantic version of the LNC when he says that the positions which make conflicting assertions about time "cannot all be true" (PH III 138). Finally, in the course of his discussion in AM XI of whether there is anything good or bad by nature, Sextus remarks: If, therefore, everything which appears good to someone is altogether good, then since pleasure appears good to Epicurus, bad to a Cynic, and indifferent to the Stoic, pleasure will be simultaneously good and bad and indifferent. But the same thing cannot be by nature contrary things (τὰ ε'ναντία) – simultaneously good and bad and indifferent. (AM XI 74) To all appearances, in this passage Sextus is espousing the ontological version of the LNC, since he excludes the possibility that the same thing may have contrary attributes at the same time. The quotations could easily be multiplied, since in several other passages Sextus says that it is absurd (α' τoπoς) or impossible (α'δύνατoς, α'μήχανoς) for conflicting things to be equally real or true or credible (AM VIII 18, 25, 119), or for the same thing to be simultaneously true and false or real and unreal or existent and nonexistent or credible and incredible or evident and non-evident (e.g., PH I 61, III 113–4, 129; AM I 200; VII 67, VIII 36, 46, 52, 344). But the texts that have been examined are sufficient evidence for the Pyrrhonist's apparent commitment to the LNC in its ontological, logical, and doxastic dimensions and for the claim that the attainment 58 D.E. Machuca and maintenance of his ε'πoχή rest upon such a commitment. In the next two sections, I will try to determine whether this is really the case. This is all the more important because most interpreters believe that Skeptics are indeed committed to the LNC.13 3 The Pyrrhonist's Suspension of Judgment About the LNC The previous analysis has left us with the impression that there is conclusive evidence that conscious or unconscious acceptance of the ontological, logical, and doxastic versions of the LNC is a necessary condition for the communication, the emergence, and the maintenance of Pyrrhonism as well as for the Pyrrhonist's discussion of the dogmatic theories. If this is the case, then this law represents a limit to his suspension of judgment, i.e., his ε'πoχή πε ὶ πάντων does not encompass the truth of the LNC. Close consideration of the conceptual resources of the Pyrrhonian outlook and careful examination of a number of texts from Sextus' writings show, however, that such a conclusion is hasty. It is beyond doubt that the proto-Skeptic is committed to the LNC. However, his commitment to this law does not tell us anything about the scope of the Pyrrhonian ε'πoχή, since he is still nothing but a Dogmatist. The fact that he suspends judgment and hence becomes a full-fledged Skeptic because he can assent neither to all the conflicting positions on a given topic nor to any one of them does not tell us anything about the Pyrrhonian ε'πoχή either. For it is possible that, after suspending judgment, the full-fledged Skeptic realizes that he cannot actually exclude the possibility that opposites might hold of one and the same thing simultaneously, and hence that opposite propositions may be true at the same time. Similarly, he may also realize that he cannot discount the possibility that it might be rational and feasible to hold opposite beliefs at the same time. Now, is there any textual evidence that the Pyrrhonist does not exclude such possibilities? Several texts of Sextus' writings clearly show that the Pyrrhonist considers the thesis that opposite attributes exist in the same object at the same time and in the same respect as one of the alternatives to take into account when confronted with a conflict of appearances, and hence that he does not take for granted that only one of the conflicting appearances corresponds to how the object really is. By the same token, those texts show that the Pyrrhonist does not rule out the possibility that opposite propositions may be true simultaneously and the possibility that it may be rational to hold opposite beliefs at the same time. The reason the Pyrrhonist does not discount such possibilities is that the existence of a conflict of appearances is compatible with three alternatives among which he cannot decide. 13See Rossitto (1981), Maia Neto (1995, p. xv), Harte and Lane (1999, p. 165 with n. 13), Polito (2004, p. 52), Long (2006, p. 54 n. 30), Trowbridge (2006, p. 262 n. 4). Cf. Frede (1996, pp. 6, 12–3 with nn. 47, 19). 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 59 The first alternative is that no more than one of the conflicting appearances corresponds to how the object really is. This alternative is in fact the outlook ascribed to the Skeptic by some interpreters when explaining why Skepticism is not the same as what we usually understand as relativism.14 They claim that, whereas the Skeptic supposes that x is really either A or B, but cannot decide which one it is, the relativist affirms that x is in itself neither A nor B, but that it is one or the other relative to a given person in certain circumstances. As we will see in what follows, it is a mistake to think that the Skeptic assumes that only one of the conflicting appearances is true. The second alternative which the Skeptic takes into account is that contrary attributes corresponding to conflicting appearances do subsist in the same object, which is the position Sextus ascribes to Heraclitus and Protagoras. It is important to examine the passages of PH in which he presents their views because therein he makes it clear that the Skeptic is not committed to the LNC.15 In the chapter of PH I in which Sextus distinguishes Heracliteanism from Skepticism, he points out that the difference between the two philosophies is clear because Heraclitus "makes dogmatic assertions about many non-evident matters" (PH I 210), whereas Skeptics do not. Sextus is, however, forced to expand on their differences because Aenesidemus and his followers used to say that the Skeptical way of thought is a road towards the philosophy of Heraclitus, because [the fact] that contraries appear with respect to the same thing leads to [the claim] that contraries are real with respect to the same thing (π oηγειται τoυ τα'ναντία πε ὶ τò αυ'τò υ'πά χειν τò τα'ναντία πε ὶ τò αυ'τò φαίνεσθαι), and Skeptics say that contraries appear with respect to the same thing, while Heracliteans go from this also to [the claim] that they exist [with respect to the same thing]. We declare against them that it is not a dogma of the Skeptics that contraries appear with respect to the same thing, but a fact (π αγμα) which manifests itself (υ'πoπίπτoν) not only to the Skeptics, but also to the other philosophers and to all men. (PH I 210) Sextus then explains: The Skeptical way of thought not only does not ever help to the knowledge of the philosophy of Heraclitus, but is an obstacle to it, since the Skeptic denounces all the things about which Heraclitus dogmatizes as being said rashly, thereby opposing the conflagration, opposing [the claim] that contraries exist with respect to the same thing, and with respect to each dogma of Heraclitus ridiculing the dogmatic rashness and, as I said before, uttering "I do not apprehend" and "I determine nothing," which is in conflict with the Heracliteans. (PH I 212) This chapter of PH is crucial for the vexed question of the so-called Heracliteanism of Aenesidemus. Although this is an intriguing issue, it is beyond the scope of this paper.16 The important point for my present purposes concerns both the 14See Annas and Barnes (1985, pp. 97–8), Bénatouïl (1997, pp. 232–3), Pellegrin (1997, pp. 552–3). Cf. Bett (1994, p. 149). 15Scholars have not noticed the importance of these passages for understanding the Pyrrhonist's attitude towards the LNC. 16For discussion of this issue, see Brochard (2002, pp. 284–301), Hankinson (1998, pp. 129–31), Bett (2000, pp. 223–32), and especially Polito (2004), Pérez-Jean (2005), Bonazzi (2007), and Schofield (2007). 60 D.E. Machuca reason Sextus opposes the Aenesideman interpretation of the relation between Heracliteanism and Skepticism and the attitude he adopts towards Heraclitus' claim that contraries hold of one and the same thing (cf. Met.  3, 1005b24–25). Sextus rejects this claim because it is an assertion about a non-evident matter. Indeed, the Skeptic notices the fact that contraries appear to hold of one and the same thing, but given that from this fact by itself one cannot draw the conclusion that contraries do hold of one and the same thing or any other conclusion that goes beyond the realm of appearances, he is forced to suspend judgment. Thus, the Skeptic opposes the Heraclitean view, not because he considers it to be false, but only because he thinks that Heracliteans affirm it without sufficient evidence in its favor and without realizing that there are other possible views which appear to be as plausible as theirs. In other words, the Skeptic suspends judgment about whether Heraclitus' position is true. This is clearly seen in the fact that, to each of the Heraclitean dogmas, the Skeptic applies the phrases oυ' καταλαμβάνω and oυ'δὲν o' ίζω, which express the attitude of suspension of judgment (see PH I 201 and 197, respectively). The chapter under consideration thus makes it clear that the Skeptic does not adhere to the LNC in its ontological dimension, since he does not know whether Heraclitus' position is true or false. It also makes it clear that he is not committed to the logical dimension either, since he would refrain from affirming that contrary propositions cannot be true at the same time. If this is so, then it is plain as well that the Skeptic withholds his assent about whether or not it is rational to hold contrary beliefs at the same time. Just as with Heraclitus, Sextus devotes a chapter of PH to discussing the differences between Skepticism and Protagoras' position (PH I 216–9). There Sextus expounds the elements of the Protagorean stance which determine that there is a fundamental difference between it and Pyrrhonism: [Protagoras] declares, indeed, that matter is in flux and that, given that it is in flux, additions continuously take place in lieu of the effluxions, and that the senses are rearranged and altered on account of the ages and the other constitutions of the bodies. He also says that the reasons (τoὺς λóγoυς) of all things subsist (υ'πoκεισθαι) in matter, so that matter, insofar as it is itself concerned, can be all the things that appear to all (πάντα ει'ναι o'σα πασι φαίνεται). Men grasp different things at different times, depending on their different conditions: someone in a natural state apprehends (καταλαμβάνειν) those things in matter which can appear to those in a natural state, someone in an unnatural state apprehends what can appear in an unnatural state. And further, depending on age, and according to whether we are sleeping or waking, and by virtue of each sort of condition, the same account holds. Therefore, according to him, man becomes the criterion of the things that are, for all things that appear to men also exist, and the things that appear to no men do not exist. We see, then, that he dogmatizes about matter being in flux and about the reasons of all things that appear subsisting in it, things which are non-evident and about which we suspend judgment. (PH I 217–9) For my present purposes, it does not matter whether this account of Protagoras' position is historically accurate, or whether it is entirely compatible with that found at AM VII 60–4 in the course of the discussion of the criterion of truth. What does matter is Sextus' attitude towards the position he ascribes to Protagoras in the quoted passage. Like the Heraclitean and the Skeptic, Protagoras notices the conflict of 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 61 appearances, since he points out that things appear differently to people by virtue of the various states in which they find themselves. Like the Heraclitean but unlike the Skeptic, Protagoras goes beyond the realm of τὰ φαινóμενα, since he maintains that there is correspondence between what appears to a person by virtue of the state in which he finds himself and what is present in matter. That is to say, Protagoras takes τὰ φαινóμενα as an epistemic criterion, since anything that appears corresponds to an objective feature of reality, which is why Sextus uses the verb καταλαμβάνειν. Now, the beginning of the passage seems to suggest that the same thing possesses different attributes or properties only successively; that is to say, during its permanent change, each thing adopts different attributes or properties in parallel with the alterations experienced by the individuals which apprehend them. The rest of the passage, however, shows that, according to the Protagorean position, opposites coexist simultaneously in the same thing. Indeed, given that the individual man is the criterion of truth, everything that appears to anyone is real, and it is clear that things appear differently to different men at the same time by virtue of the different states in which they find themselves (cf. Met.  4 1007b20–25; 5 1009a5–15). For instance, if a certain portion of honey appears at the same time sweet to a healthy person but bitter to a sick person, then one must infer that both appearances are equally true, i.e., that the same portion of honey is both sweet and bitter. Thus, in the quoted passage Sextus ascribes to Protagoras a position similar to that which he ascribes to Heraclitus. Just as in the case of the Heraclitean theory, Sextus does not oppose the Protagorean theory because he considers it to be false, but only because he takes it to be one view about the conflict of appearances which appears as plausible as the others. He explicitly points out at the end of the quoted passage that the Skeptic suspends judgment about that theory. Therefore, given that the Skeptic neither affirms nor denies the truth of the Protagorean position, we must conclude that he does not embrace the ontological, logical, or normative doxastic versions of the LNC. In addition, since the Skeptic is aware that Heraclitus and Protagoras affirm that contraries subsist in one and the same thing at the same time, he must also be aware that, to all appearances, there are people who are in fact able to hold contrary beliefs at the same time. Both thinkers believe, e.g., that honey is sweet and bitter simultaneously, and given that, unlike Aristotle (see Met.  3 1005b23–26 in relation to Heraclitus), the Skeptic has no a priori reason for questioning the sincerity of what they claim to believe, he cannot adhere to the descriptive doxastic version of the LNC either. The third possible view about the conflict of appearances which the Skeptic takes into consideration is that, e.g., honey is in itself neither sweet nor bitter, but appears to be one way or the other only by virtue of the diversity of species, individuals, or senses that perceive it or by virtue of any other factor. This kind of position is attributed to Democritus in the chapter of PH in which are expounded the differences between his philosophy and Skepticism. Sextus indicates that the two philosophies have been thought to be similar because Democritus' theory seems to make use of the same material as we do. For from the fact that honey appears sweet to some but bitter to others, they declare that Democritus concludes that the same thing is neither sweet nor bitter, but utters the expression "not more" (oυ' μαλλoν), which is 62 D.E. Machuca Skeptical. The Skeptics and the followers of Democritus, however, employ the expression "not more" differently, since the latter apply the expression to the fact that neither of the alternatives is the case (ει'ναι), whereas we apply it to the fact of ignoring whether one of the things that appear is both or neither (α'γνoειν πóτε oν α'μφóτε α oυ'θέτε óν τι 'εστι των φαινoμένων). Hence with respect to this we differ. But the distinction becomes most evident when Democritus says "in reality atoms and void," since he says "in reality" instead of "in truth." And I regard it as superfluous to say that, when he says atoms and void exist, he has differed from us, even though he starts from the anomaly of the things that appear (της α'νωμαλίας των φαινoμένων). (PH I 213–4) The alleged similarity between the Democritean and the Skeptical philosophies is based on two elements: both start from the conflict of appearances and both use the expression oυ' μαλλoν. However, from the anomaly of the things which appear Democritus takes a road that leads him to a dogmatic thesis, which he expresses by way of that expression. Indeed, Democritus uses oυ' μαλλoν in its usual sense, namely, to indicate that neither of the conflicting appearances corresponds to what the object is like in itself. By contrast, the Skeptic employs oυ' μαλλoν to convey his ignorance about whether both appearances are true or neither is – that is to say, the Skeptical oυ' μαλλoν is a way of expressing the state of ε'πoχή. Taking also into account what Sextus says about the expression oυ' μαλλoν at PH I 188–91, one should say that this expression expresses the Skeptic's ignorance about whether (i) only one of the conflicting appearances is true, or (ii) both are true, or (iii) neither is true. Hence, Sextus makes it clear that the Democritean position is one possible account of the conflict of appearances which goes beyond what the Skeptic has been able to establish, since he has noticed and described such a conflict but has not been capable of determining what things are really like. In sum, the chapter devoted to explaining the differences between Democritus and the Skeptic, too, shows that the latter is not committed to the LNC in its ontological, logical, and normative doxastic dimensions.17 The reason the Pyrrhonist suspends judgment about which of the three alternatives is true is that they strike him as equipollent or equally persuasive. Both philosophers and ordinary people, Sextus tells us at PH I 210–1, notice the conflict of appearances. Most of them adopt a dogmatic position in the face of this conflict, i.e., they make assertions which go beyond that which appears. By contrast, the Pyrrhonist cannot determine which one of the three alternatives is correct because, up to now at least, he has not found a criterion which would allow him to resolve the 17In several passages, Sextus jointly mentions the three alternative positions that have been examined and explicitly remarks that the Skeptic is unable to choose among them, which is of course to be understood in the sense that he suspends judgment about which one corresponds to the way things really are (see PH II 53; AM VII 369, VIII 213–4, 354–5). These passages and those examined in the main body of the text show that Sextus time and again makes it clear that the Skeptic is aware of the various positions the Dogmatists have adopted in the face of the disagreement among appearances, and that he does not incline to any one of those positions. The reason is simply that they are parties to a second-order disagreement he has not been able to resolve. Hence, once again, the Skeptic does not rule out the possibility that the ontological, logical, and doxastic versions of the LNC may be false. 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 63 dispute among them. This is why he limits himself to describing the various ways in which things appear to him. The mere existence of an as yet unresolved conflict among appearances points to no specific state of affairs, i.e., it does not establish that only one of the conflicting appearances is true, or that all are true, or that none is true. Thus, the Pyrrhonist refrains from endorsing any of these views because none of them follows from the mere fact that contraries appear to hold of one and the same thing. He cannot take a stand on the first-order conflict of appearances because he cannot settle the second-order disagreement among the three dogmatic positions that have been examined. We must therefore consider the Pyrrhonist's adoption of ε'πoχή as a fourth alternative attitude one may adopt in the face of a conflict of appearances. Besides his inability to choose among the three dogmatic positions just referred to because they are, so to speak, underdetermined by the mere conflict of appearances, there are deeper reasons for the Pyrrhonist's suspending judgment about the truth of the different versions of the LNC. The first that comes to mind is the disagreement about the truth of that law. Indeed, those who affirm that only one of the conflicting appearances can be true embrace the LNC. By contrast, those who affirm that all the conflicting appearances are true reject that law. The Pyrrhonist considers this disagreement to be as yet irresolvable because any attempt to justify one of the sides in dispute can be attacked by strong arguments. Against those who deny the LNC, the Pyrrhonist would make use of the Aristotelian arguments found in Metaphysics . And against the attempt to justify endorsement of the LNC, he would take Aristotle's claim that the endeavor to demonstrate everything, including the LNC, leads to an infinite regress (Met.  3 1006a8–9) as a recognition that the attempt to justify that law by inferring it from other premises is caught in the Agrippan mode deriving from regress ad infinitum (PH I 166). Unlike Aristotle, he would not regard this as a reason for accepting the LNC as a first principle which as such does not require a proof. Rather, he would argue that the mode deriving from regress ad infinitum represents a problem for the justification of the LNC. Similarly, to the Aristotelian claims that the LNC does not depend on anything else to be known (Met.  3 1005b11–17) and that it cannot be apprehended by demonstration (Met.  6 1011a8–13), the Pyrrhonist would respond by pointing out that they amount to an arbitrary assumption, that is, that they are caught in the Agrippan mode deriving from hypothesis (PH I 168). This shows once again that it does not seem possible to justify commitment to the LNC. Finally, Aristotle maintains that the LNC is the highest or ultimate principle of all demonstrations (Met.  3 1005b32– 33), which implies that every proof of the LNC which is not refutative, but intends to establish it directly, necessarily presupposes it. The factual impossibility of offering a direct demonstration of the LNC without making use of it would not be taken by the Pyrrhonist as evidence that it is a first principle which we must endorse. Rather, he would emphasize that this fact shows that it is not possible to demonstrate directly the LNC without begging the question, and that this, too, represents a problem for anyone trying to justify endorsement of that law.18 It is worth emphasizing that the 18For the Pyrrhonist's use of the charge of petitio principii, see e.g. PH I 59 and II 36. 64 D.E. Machuca Pyrrhonist does not deny the truth of the LNC, but only observes that, given that its justification appears to be aporetic, we end up in suspension of judgment.19 4 The Pyrrhonist's Non-Dogmatic Observance of the LNC As already noted, in Metaphysics  Aristotle argues that, as soon as those who reject the LNC say something meaningful, they show by this very act that they are committed to this law (see Met.  4 1006a21–31; cf. 7 1012a21–24, 8 1012b5–8). Indeed, if a word or a proposition could have opposite meanings at the same time and in the same respect, then what it intends to convey would be unclear; and if this happened with every word or proposition, then communication would be impossible. Hence, even those who deny the truth of the LNC presuppose it in order to make clear what they mean by such a denial – otherwise their words would be understood both the way they intend them and the opposite way. One could maintain that this argument may also be effectively used against the person who suspends judgment about the truth of the LNC, since once the Pyrrhonist utters a meaningful word either when expounding his own outlook or when discussing a dogmatic theory, he shows that it is not possible for any and every word or proposition to have opposite meanings.20 I think that the Pyrrhonist would respond that this argument does not prove that reality is such that opposite attributes cannot belong to the same thing at the same time and in the same respect, but at most that people cannot help observing the LNC when uttering words they take to be meaningful. Thus, Aristotle's maneuver at most shows that people observe, not the ontological version of this law, but what might be regarded as a variant of the doxastic version. The Pyrrhonist would explain his observance of the LNC when communicating his philosophical stance and arguing against the Dogmatists by saying that, as a matter of fact, he has been unable to communicate his thought and discuss with others without his observing that law. 19The ancient Pyrrhonist would also have had strong grounds for suspending judgment about the truth of the LNC as an all-embracing principle if he had witnessed the development of so-called paraconsistent logic since the second half of the twentieth century. First, he would have pointed out that there is a disagreement between the champions of traditional logic who endorse the LNC, on the one hand, and, on the other, the defenders of dialetheism who maintain that there are some true contradictions – as is shown by classic logical paradoxes such as those of the Liar and the Barber – thereby accepting that sometimes p and ¬p may be true at the same time and in the same respect. Second, the Pyrrhonist would have observed that at least so far that disagreement appears unresolvable, so that he is constrained to suspend judgment about the status of the LNC as a fundamental logical principle. (The term "dialetheism" was coined by Graham Priest and Richard Routley in 1981. For a basic presentation of this logical theory, see Priest (2004), also Horn (2006, section 4). On paraconsistent logic in general, see Priest and Tanaka (2007).) 20It is worth noting that it is only a total denial of the LNC (i.e., the claim that all contradictory predicates equally apply and do not apply) that seems to lead to a breakdown of meaningful language. It may be argued that the acceptance of some contradictions is compatible with meaningful language. But the important point here is that the Pyrrhonist's linguistic practice seems to show that he does not endorse a total denial of the LNC and, hence, that in at least some cases he accepts the truth of this law. 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 65 His apparent endorsement of the LNC should therefore be interpreted as his following something that imposes itself upon him. That is to say, out of psychological constraint, he thinks and speaks in accordance with the LNC, even though he can conceive of and express the possibility that this law may not correspond to the way things really are, that is, even though he cannot rule out the possibility that things may have opposite properties or qualities at the same time and in the same respect. Hence, of the three versions of the LNC presented at the outset, the doxastic version seems to be that which better describes the Pyrrhonist's observance of that law. It is clear, however, that he cannot endorse this version of the LNC because he does not affirm that it is irrational or unfeasible for anyone to hold contrary beliefs at the same time. Indeed, with respect to the normative doxastic version of the LNC, given that he cannot rule out the possibility that contraries may subsist in the same thing at the same time and hence that contrary propositions may be true simultaneously, he cannot affirm that it is irrational to hold contrary beliefs at the same time. As for the descriptive doxastic version, I argued in the previous section that it appears to him that certain people, such as Heraclitus and Protagoras, in fact hold contrary beliefs simultaneously. Therefore, the Pyrrhonist does not embrace a view about what humans in general should or can believe, i.e., he does not dogmatize about the nature of the human mind and the way it should or does function. In sum, although the Pyrrhonist is not committed to the truth of the LNC, in certain circumstances he feels psychologically constrained to think in conformity with this law and to assent to it in the sense of simply acquiescing in or yielding to it in a way similar to that in which he assents to the appearances or affections which are forced upon him (see PH I 13, 19, 29, 193). It seems we can formulate what we may call a "psychological" version of the LNC which the Pyrrhonist finds himself constrained to observe21: Psychological version: up to now I have, as a matter of fact, been unable to assent to two or more conflicting appearances at the same time.22 The reason I have expressly introduced subjective and temporal qualifications is that these kinds of restrictions are constantly used by Sextus in his account of the sense in which the Skeptical φωναί must be interpreted (PH I 187–208). Such qualifications manifest the Pyrrhonist's distinctive caution that makes him limit the range of his claims to his personal experience. He makes no normative claim, but a merely descriptive one. It is worth noting that his observance of the psychological version of the LNC would make it possible to reply to the following objection: the Pyrrhonist's adoption of ε'πoχή after considering the second-order disagreement about the truth of the LNC depends upon endorsement of this law. For the reason he suspends judgment is that he can assent neither to one of the second-order positions in conflict 21Cf. McPherran (1987, pp. 315, 317–8) and Nussbaum (1994, p. 308). Spinelli (1995, p. 244) also seems to think that the Pyrrhonist suspends judgment about the truth of the LNC. 22This formulation encompasses both dogmatic assent to epistemic appearances and non-dogmatic assent to non-epistemic appearances. For a fine discussion of the distinction between two types of assent in both Pyrrhonism and Academic skepticism, see Frede (1997b). 66 D.E. Machuca because they appear to be equally persuasive, nor to all of them because they are incompatible. In other words, in this case the Pyrrhonist's appearance expressed in the proposition "It appears to me that not (p and ¬p)" must be epistemic. He would reply to this objection by saying that his reason for suspending judgment in the face of such a second-order disagreement between equipollent positions is rather that, in point of fact, he finds himself psychologically unable to give his assent to all the rival positions simultaneously. It is therefore not a matter of dogmatic commitment to the LNC. Concerning the Pyrrhonist's observance of the psychological version of the LNC, it is also important to remember something Sextus says when explaining the Pyrrhonist's criterion of action. He tells us that τὰ φαινóμενα are such a criterion (PH I 21–2) and induce the Pyrrhonist's assent involuntarily (PH I 19). This criterion is fourfold, one of its parts being the "guidance of nature," which is that guidance by virtue of which the Pyrrhonist is naturally capable of perceiving and thinking (PH I 24). One may reasonably suppose that this natural capability of thinking includes the observance of the psychological version of the LNC, to which he assents involuntarily and non-dogmatically, i.e., without making any assertion about its epistemic credentials (cf. McPherran 1987, p. 318). This lack of dogmatic commitment is explicitly made clear by Sextus when he points out that the Pyrrhonist follows the appearances without holding opinions (α'δoξάστως) – i.e., without believing or disbelieving that things are as they appear to him to be – and for the sole reason that he cannot remain utterly inactive (PH I 23–4). As already noted, the Skeptic communicates in conformity with the LNC, which must be accounted for by his observing a linguistic version of this law. He would explain this as a convention that allows him both to make himself understood and to understand others, which does not presuppose any view about the real nature of things or about the nature of our mind.23 This non-dogmatic version of the LNC could be formulated thus: Linguistic version: in order for me to have meaningful or intelligible communication within my linguistic community, I have so far been unable as a speaker to assign opposite meanings to every word at the same time and in the same respect, and as a hearer to interpret every word as having opposite meanings at the same time and in the same respect. Observance of this linguistic version of the LNC on the part of the Skeptic does not represent a dogmatic commitment simply because he interprets it as an empirical claim which merely expresses a linguistic convention that makes communication possible among the members of his group. It is clear that this version of the LNC also exerts some kind of psychological constraint on the Skeptic. Against those who reject the LNC, Aristotle also argues that, by choosing one course of action over another, they show that they believe that things are one way rather than another (Met.  4 1008b12–27). For instance, a person does not jump 23Cf. Stough (1984, pp. 156–7). For a critical analysis of the Skeptic's general attitude towards language, see Cauchy (1986), Caujolle-Zaslawsky (1986), and Corti (2009). 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 67 out of a plane without wearing a parachute if he does not want to die. The reason seems to be twofold: (i) it is not the case that jumping out of a plane without wearing a parachute is and is not a cause of death, and (ii) a person cannot both believe and not believe that jumping out of a plane without wearing a parachute causes death. Thus, even though the refusal to say something on the part of those who deny, or suspend judgment about, the truth of the LNC prevents them from betraying their actual endorsement of this law, they cannot avoid that their actions do reveal their conscious or unconscious commitment to it. This argument does not seem to represent a serious difficulty to the Pyrrhonist, since his criterion of action seems to be complex enough to allow him to choose among different courses of action. The Pyrrhonist prefers one course of action to another, not because he believes that things are really one way rather than another, but simply because some appearances strike him as persuasive from a merely psychological point of view, so that he is not at the same time persuaded and unpersuaded by those appearances in such circumstances.24 In other words, he acts one way rather than another because certain appearances strike him one way rather than another. It is precisely because he does not find conflicting appearances equally persuasive psychologically speaking that he can make decisions and act upon them. When conflicting appearances strike him with the same psychological force, he refrains from acting in accordance with either of them. From an external viewpoint, the Pyrrhonist's actions can be interpreted as though he was committed to the ontological and doxastic versions of the LNC, but this by itself is not sufficient evidence to ascribe such a commitment to him. It would also be necessary to prove that action is not possible in the absence of beliefs about how things really are.25 In relation to the previous remarks, it must be noted that there is also a practical reason for the Skeptic's non-dogmatic observance of the LNC. In the chapter of AM XI which examines whether it is possible to live happily if one believes that there are things good or bad by nature, Sextus points out: If, then, someone should assume that everything which is in any way pursued by anyone is by nature good, and everything which is avoided is by nature to be avoided, he will have a life which is unlivable, being compelled simultaneously to pursue and avoid the same thing – to pursue it insofar as it has been supposed by some a thing to be chosen, but to avoid it insofar as it has been deemed by others a thing to be avoided. (AM XI 15) Similarly, in a later chapter in which he discusses whether there is a τέχνη relating to life, Sextus argues: The skill which is claimed to relate to life, and thanks to which they suppose that one is happy, is not a single skill but many and discordant, such as the one according to Epicurus, and the one according to the Stoics, and the one of the Peripatetics. Either, then, one must follow all alike or only one or none. And to follow them all is something impracticable 24On this non-epistemic kind of persuasiveness, particularly in relation to arguments, see Machuca (2009, pp. 116–23). 25This is not the place to address the vexed question of whether the Pyrrhonist can live his Skepticism. For discussion of this issue, see esp. Burnyeat (1997), also Bailey (2002, chapter 11) and Comesaña's paper in this volume. 68 D.E. Machuca owing to the conflict [among them]; for what this one commands as a thing to be chosen, that one forbids as a thing to be avoided, and it is not possible to pursue and avoid the same thing simultaneously. (AM XI 173–4) The end of this passage clearly formulates what can be interpreted as a practical version of the LNC: Practical version: it is impossible to pursue and avoid the same thing at the same time and in the same respect, i.e., it is impossible to perform and not to perform a given action at the same time and in the same respect. This practical formulation of the LNC places a constraint on the epistemic or nonepistemic appearances we can accept as guides for action: it is not feasible to follow at the same time any two contrary epistemic or non-epistemic appearances when making practical decisions simply because we cannot act according to both. Now, the Pyrrhonist would clearly regard this formulation of the LNC as dogmatic, since it makes a universal claim about what kind of actions cannot be performed, which seems to presuppose the ontological version. Indeed, the reason one cannot eat simultaneously a piece of sweet and bitter honey is that it seems not to be possible for the same piece of honey to be sweet and bitter at the same time, and the reason one cannot simultaneously walk and stay still is that things seem to be by nature such that contrary actions cannot be performed at the same time. The Pyrrhonist would be more comfortable with the following qualified practical version of the LNC: Qualified practical version: up till now I have, as a matter of fact, been unable to pursue and avoid the same thing at the same time and in the same respect, i.e., to perform and not to perform the same action at the same time and in the same respect. The Pyrrhonist would point out that, even though he suspends judgment about the dogmatic versions of the LNC, he is still subject to the practical constraint in question because this seems to be independent of the truth of those versions. Indeed, his qualified practical formulation of the LNC is an empirical claim which does not necessarily presuppose the dogmatic assertion that the structure of reality is such that one cannot perform opposite actions at the same time and in the same respect. In keeping with his characteristic caution, the Pyrrhonist would say that, in stating the qualified practical version of the LNC, he is just reporting what has happened to him, without at the same time affirming that this version is universally true. It is crucial to note that the Pyrrhonist would not present the versions of the LNC observed by him as versions of the law or principle of non-contradiction. The reason is simply that he does not assert that those versions are objectively and universally true, but merely presents them as descriptive reports of his own experiences. The nature and status of these phenomenological reports is the same as that of the Skeptical φωναί. Hence, I speak of the Pyrrhonist's observance of certain versions of the LNC only as a matter of convenience. Now, my account of these non-dogmatic reports might give rise to a worry about whether the Pyrrhonist can make modal claims, namely, claims about possibility and necessity. The reason is that there cannot be an appearance of a possibility or a necessity and the Pyrrhonist cannot say that such claims are descriptive reports of some of his πάθη. For instance, he can 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 69 say "I feel cold," but not "It is impossible for me to feel cold and warm at the same time and in the same respect"; or "This argument non-epistemically appears sound to me," but not "It is impossible that this argument non-epistemically appear both sound and unsound to me at the same time and in the same respect." Likewise, he can say "As a matter of fact, I have used the LNC in communication," but not "It has so far been impossible for me to communicate without using the LNC"; or "I have not performed opposite actions," not "It has thus far been impossible for me to perform opposite actions." The same holds in the case of claims about necessity, since it seems the Pyrrhonist can say "Up till now I have not assented to two conflicting appearances at the same time," but not "Up till now I have been psychologically constrained not to assent to two conflicting appearances at the same time." Similarly, it seems he can say "I suspend judgment," but not "It is necessary that I suspend judgment" or "I am compelled to suspend judgment," something which, as we will see in the next section, Sextus repeatedly says in his exposition of the Ten and the Five Modes. It is clear that the Skeptic cannot make modal claims about what is and is not objectively possible or necessary, since these would be dogmatic assertions about what is non-evident – and one may assume that, when Sextus does make such claims, he is merely arguing dialectically. But the Skeptic can make descriptive reports of both certain spontaneous reactions he has had and his past failed attempts. For instance, knowing about Heraclitus' and Progatoras' views, the Pyrrhonist might have unsuccessfully tried to, e.g., communicate with another person by ascribing opposite meanings to everything he and his interlocutor say. He might as well have tried to simultaneously assent to conflicting appearances but failed, or might have tried to also feel warm while he was feeling cold but still felt only cold. Likewise, he might have tried not to suspend judgment after the consideration of a disagreement among apparently equipollent arguments, but as a matter of fact still suspended judgment despite his attempt. Hence, when formulating the versions of the LNC observed by the Pyrrhonist in terms of a de facto inability or constraint to do something, I obviously do not mean to refer to an objective impossibility or necessity. Those versions are rather records of the Pyrrhonist's past experiences. Now, if the Pyrrhonist suspends judgment about whether opposite attributes can coexist in the same thing at the same time, about whether opposite propositions can be true simultaneously, about whether opposite beliefs should or may be held at the same time, and about whether it is objectively possible to perform opposite actions simultaneously, how are we to explain the passages which seem to show unequivocally that he is committed to the dogmatic versions of the LNC? That is to say, why does Sextus claim in those passages that it is absurd or impossible to violate the LNC in its ontological, logical, doxastic, and unqualified practical versions? One possible answer is of course that he is just being inconsistent. Another possible answer consists in interpreting those passages in the light of the ad hominem argumentation characteristic of Pyrrhonism.26 Even though the Pyrrhonist does not 26Cf. McPherran (1987, p. 318; 1990, p. 140 n. 7). 70 D.E. Machuca accept the dogmatic versions of the LNC in propria persona, this does not in any way prevent him from employing them in the argumentative therapy by means of which he expects to cure his dogmatic patients (see PH III 280–1). The reason is simply that, since most of the Dogmatists are committed to the ontological, logical, doxastic, and unqualified practical formulations of the LNC, using these formulations in the therapeutic arguments intended to induce ε'πoχή is the best way to cure the conceit and rashness that afflict the Dogmatists. In Section 2, I presented three reasons for affirming that the Pyrrhonist is committed to the LNC. It is now time to determine whether the attitude towards this law that I have ascribed to him can explain away the evidence on which those reasons were based. With regard to the first of them, the Pyrrhonist would grant that conscious or unconscious observance of the linguistic version of the LNC reveals itself as a necessary condition for meaningful communication within his linguistic community. But he would also point out that this does not by itself imply that the ontological and logical versions of the LNC are true, nor that it is irrational or impossible for anyone to hold contrary beliefs at the same time. As regards the second reason, he would observe that, when he approached philosophy and during the philosophical journey that led him to Skepticism, he was committed to the dogmatic versions of the LNC, but that once he became a full-fledged Pyrrhonist, he abandoned that commitment. As for the third reason for maintaining that the Skeptic espouses the dogmatic versions of the LNC, he would make two remarks. First, he would say that his suspension of judgment does not actually rule out the possibility that contrary properties may belong to the same thing at the same time and in the same respect, since this is one of the alternatives he takes into account when dealing with the conflict of appearances. Second, he would observe that, when in his arguments against the Dogmatists he makes use of the ontological, logical, doxastic, and unqualified practical versions of the LNC, he does so only dialectically, because they are accepted by the Dogmatists against whom he is arguing.27 5 Eπoχή, Agrippa's Modes, and Rules of Inference The view that the Skeptic is not committed to the dogmatic formulations of the LNC and that he makes use of them solely for dialectical purposes is, as I will show in what follows, in keeping with his attitude towards ε'πoχή and with his use of 27It could be argued that my interpretation of the Skeptic's observance of certain versions of the LNC is obvious as an extension of what Sextus says about the Skeptic's following the appearances, since the Skeptic's use of this law is just the law itself prefaced by "It seems to me that." This objection, however, overlooks two facts. First, there is still fierce disagreement about whether all of the Pyrrhonist's appearance-statements are non-epistemic (see n. 7), and hence we cannot simply take for granted that he is not committed to the truth of the LNC. Second, most scholars who have referred to the Pyrrhonist's attitude towards the LNC have assumed such a commitment without exploring the question in any depth (see n. 13). 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 71 the Agrippan modes and the rules of inference. If this is indeed the case, then the interpretation of the Pyrrhonist's observance of the LNC which I have proposed will gain further support. With regard to the state of ε'πoχή, the Pyrrhonist does not take it to be the conclusion of an argument he considers to be sound, i.e., he does not claim that, given certain true premises and certain argument schemes or inference rules, every rational person must draw a certain conclusion, namely, that he must suspend judgment. Such a claim would be problematic for the Pyrrhonist because it implies the existence of proof or demonstration (α'πóδειξις), but Sextus explicitly points out that the Pyrrhonist suspends judgment about its existence (see PH II 134, 192; AM VIII 328; cf. PH I 60).28 This is the reason he makes it clear that ε'πoχή is rather a state psychologically imposed upon him, i.e., it is the psychological effect of being confronted with claims, arguments, or theories which appear equipollent or equally persuasive to him. Indeed, Sextus observes that the Skeptical way of thought is called "'suspensive' because of the affection that comes about in the inquirer after the investigation" (PH I 7). To the extent that it is a πάθoς, suspension of judgment is something that imposes itself upon the Pyrrhonist and, hence, something he accepts involuntarily, in much the same way in which he accepts such πάθη as the feelings of hunger and thirst, and those of coldness and heat (PH I 13, 19). Hence, ε'πoχή is a state that supervenes on him as a result of his own psychological constitution by virtue of which he cannot avoid withholding his assent whenever conflicting epistemic appearances strike him as equipollent.29 It is also worth noting that, in his exposition of the Ten and the Five Modes of ε'πoχή, Sextus usually says that because of what has been argued it is necessary (δει, α'νάγκη, α'ναγκαιoν) to suspend judgment or that we are compelled (α'ναγκάζεσθαι) to do so (PH I 61, 78, 89, 121, 128, 129, 163, 170, 175, 177). Although one could construe this necessity as rational, it is also possible to interpret it as merely psychological, i.e., as independent of whether the adoption of ε'πoχή is a conclusion that validly and necessarily follows from a valid inference. There is therefore a clear distinction between logical necessity and psychological constraint. The way in which the latter works independently of any rational requirement may perhaps be seen more clearly in the following case. Suppose that a person believes that it is rationally required to refrain from assenting to any one of the conflicting positions on a given topic when they appear to be epistemically 28This is why I find unacceptable Thérèse Pentzopoulou-Valalas' claim that the Skeptic has "une foi profonde en l'efficacité de l'argumentation ainsi qu'en la force du syllogisme en tant que moyen d'apodicticité" (1994, 240). 29This interpretation of the relation between ε'πoχή and the arguments which induce it is generally accepted by scholars. See McPherran (1987, pp. 318–20; 1990, p. 140 n. 6), Barnes (1990, pp. 2610–1), Hankinson (1994, p. 49 n. 15), Pellegrin (1997, pp. 546–7), Annas (1998, 196), Palmer (2000, p. 372 n. 22), Striker (2004, p. 16), Grgić (2006, p. 142). See Annas and Barnes (1985, 49) and Barnes (2000, p. xxi) for the claim that the texts suggest that the relation may also be interpreted as a requirement of rationality. For the view that the relation must be understood this way, see Perin (2006, pp. 358–9 with n. 32). For the rejection of the psychological interpretation, see also Lammenranta (2008, pp. 15–9). 72 D.E. Machuca equipollent. One could argue that, if that person attempted to ground his belief, he would be caught in the web woven by the Agrippan modes of reciprocity, infinite regress, and hypothesis. It might well be the case that, despite his inability to provide a proof capable of establishing that it is logically necessary to refrain from assenting to any one of the theses in conflict when they appear equally credible, the person in question still finds himself psychologically compelled to suspend judgment. That is to say, even though he cannot provide a rational justification for his withholding of assent, this does not prevent him from ending up suspending judgment all the same. I think that that is the situation in which the Pyrrhonist finds himself and that he would say something like this: "Up till now this set of arguments have in fact been able to induce the state of ε'πoχή in me and others, but I do not know whether those arguments are sound and, hence, whether ε'πoχή is a conclusion that logically and necessarily follows from them." One could say that the Skeptic's suspensive attitude is rational only in the sense that ε'πoχή is a reaction triggered after the careful consideration of arguments pro and con a given thesis, but not in the sense that he is committed to ε'πoχή as the necessary conclusion of an argument or set of arguments he deems sound. If this interpretation is correct, then the factor which explains the Pyrrhonist's suspension of judgment is the same as that which accounts for his observance of the psychological version of the LNC. In this regard, it is also important to note that, just as the Skeptic does not maintain that everyone observes that version of the LNC, so too does he refrain from affirming that the kind of psychological constraint that compels him to suspend judgment affects every person who considers the Skeptical arguments. For just as it is a fact that there are people who claim to believe that contraries subsist in the same thing at the same time and in the same respect, so too is it a fact that most people continue to embrace dogmatic theories or assertions even after having been subjected to the Skeptical argumentative treatment. In the case of ε'πoχή, Sextus also distinguishes between the psychological and the ontological spheres and makes it clear that he does not believe that this state of mind has an ontological foundation. For he says that the φωνή "I suspend judgment" makes it clear that "objects appear to us equal in respect of credibility and incredibility. Whether they are equal, we do not affirm: we say what appears to us about them, when they manifest themselves to us" (PH I 196). Similarly, when explaining the notion of α'φασία, which is a form of referring to ε'πoχή, Sextus observes that "it is clear that we do not use 'non-assertion' to mean that objects are in their nature such as to move us necessarily to non-assertion, but rather to make it clear that now, when we utter it, we feel in this way with regard to these matters under investigation" (PH I 193). Thus, the Skeptic does not affirm that ε'πoχή has an ontological foundation but only indicates that it is the result of the way things appear to him or the way he is affected. This is in perfect accord with his attitude towards the LNC, since he does not adhere to the ontological version of this law but merely observes a psychological version of it. If we consider the ad hominem character of the Skeptical argumentation, it is possible to argue that, in the passages in which Sextus does make ε'πoχή the conclusion of an argument or an inference (PH I 36, 99, 123, 135, 140, 144), what he is 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 73 actually saying is that, given the rational principles followed by the Dogmatists in their reasoning, they are obliged to suspend judgment. That is to say, given certain principles, one must refrain from making any assertions about what has so far been a matter of an undecidable dispute. If this is correct, then once again the interpretation of the Pyrrhonist's qualified observance of the LNC that has been proposed is in perfect accord with the attitude he adopts towards ε'πoχή. As regards the Pyrrhonist's use of the Five Modes of Agrippa – namely, disagreement, relativity, infinite regress, reciprocity, and hypothesis (PH I 164–77) – some interpreters have rightly pointed out that he is not committed to the conception of rational justification underlying the latter three modes. Rather, the Agrippan modes are parasitic on the Dogmatists' own theories of rational justification, so that they are essentially ad hominem arguments.30 However, I think this is not all that can be said about the Pyrrhonist's attitude towards the Five Modes, since it may also be argued that there is a way in which he assents to them. Indeed, one may suppose that his philosophical and cultural milieu has influenced him in such a way that the conception of rational justification at work in the Agrippan modes still exerts some kind of psychological force on him. As noted earlier, the proto-Skeptic was a Dogmatist who was committed to certain logical principles and criteria of justification. It is likely that this past commitment still exerts an influence on the full-fledged Skeptic in such a way that in his daily life he spontaneously finds unacceptable a piece of reasoning which is circular or a chain of justification which does not come to an end or a claim made arbitrarily without any backing up. Of course, this kind of assent is not to be interpreted as dogmatic, but as a part of the Pyrrhonist's natural capacity to think and, hence, as a part of his general psychological or non-epistemic assent or yielding to the appearances. Thus, the Pyrrhonist's attitude towards the Agrippan modes is in perfect accord with his attitude towards the LNC, since he is not committed to them, but rather non-dogmatically assents to them and also uses them for dialectical purposes. It remains to consider the Pyrrhonist's use of rules of inference in his arguments. It might be thought that, even though the use of ad hominem arguments permits the Pyrrhonist to avoid endorsing both their premises and conclusions and the Dogmatists' criteria of justification, it does not save him from endorsing the inference rules used in those arguments. This endorsement would be precisely what allows him to undermine the Dogmatists' theories by showing them that, given that they themselves put forward these theories, they must accept conclusions which are at odds with their most important tenets. This interpretation, however, overlooks the full extent of the dialectical character of the Pyrrhonist's argumentation. The reason is that, in his ad hominem arguments, not only the premises but also the inference rules are taken from the dogmatic theories. One could object that it is hard to believe that in his daily life the Pyrrhonist's thinking does not follow certain rules of inference. The reply to this objection consists in distinguishing, once again, 30See Williams (1988), Bailey (2002, chapter 10), Striker (2004, p. 16), Machuca (2007, pp. 156–7). 74 D.E. Machuca between logical validity and psychological constraint: even though the Pyrrhonist suspends judgment about what the Dogmatists call "logic," his thinking involuntarily follows certain rules of inference which have been inculcated in him by the education he received and his interaction with others, and which have turned out (and still turn out) to work in practical contexts. In this regard, one could argue that the Pyrrhonist's natural capability of thinking also includes the use of such rules. In a word, the Pyrrhonist's use of rules of inference such as modus ponens and modus tollens is to be explained in part as a dialectical maneuver and in part as a psychological constraint in much the same way as his use of the various versions of the LNC. 6 Conclusion Let me sum up what has been argued in the previous sections. First, I have tried to show that, despite what one might tend to think, the Skeptic's observance of the LNC does not represent a commitment to the ontological, logical, doxastic, and unqualified practical versions of this law. Rather, it is based upon (i) a kind of psychological constraint on him, (ii) a linguistic convention shared by the group to which he belongs, and (iii) a practical unfeasibility. This is why I have argued that, when the Skeptic makes use of the dogmatic versions of the LNC, he does so simply as a dialectical maneuver in order to persuade his dogmatic patients and induce them to suspend judgment. Finally, I have contended that such an observance and such a maneuver are perfectly in keeping with those we find both in the case of the Skeptic's adoption of ε'πoχή and in the case of his use of the Modes of Agrippa and certain rules of inference. To conclude, I would like to briefly address the following question: is the Pyrrhonist's refusal to endorse the dogmatic formulations of the LNC, the inference rules employed in his arguments, and the conception of justification underlying the Agrippan modes a clear proof of his anti-rationalism? It depends on how one defines this position. If by anti-rationalism one understands the lack of commitment to the laws of logic, the rules of inference, and the criteria of justification for our beliefs, then the Pyrrhonist is an anti-rationalist. If, on the other hand, by anti-rationalism one understands the firm rejection or denial of such laws, rules, and criteria, then he is certainly not an anti-rationalist. As far as I can see, it is this latter sense which one has usually in mind when speaking of anti-rationalism and, hence, when saying that the Pyrrhonist adopts this position.31 The reason one cannot portray the Pyrrhonist as an anti-rationalist in this strong sense is that he does not reject rationality, but only suspends judgment about whether the logical laws, inference rules, and standards of justification endorsed by the Dogmatists are well-founded or groundless. This does not prevent the Pyrrhonist from making a use of reason which has a merely instrumental or practical function and which allows him to conduct his life within the 31See Striker (2001, pp. 120, 122, 124–5). Cf. Striker (1996, p. 113; 2010, pp. 204–6). 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 75 limits of τὰ φαινóμενα (see PH I 17).32 This use of reason is not normative insofar as the Pyrrhonist is not committed to what the Dogmatists regard as the canons of rationality. The fact that people find themselves following certain canons (or even the purported fact that people are built to follow them) does not entail by itself that these canons are epistemically justified.33 Now, given that the Pyrrhonist is neither a rationalist nor an anti-rationalist, it is more accurate to characterize him as an "a-rationalist" – taking this term in the sense of someone who is not a champion of rationality, without thereby being its opponent. On the other hand, it could be argued that rationality consists not only in the acceptance of the LNC, the rules of inference, and the conception of justification underlying the Agrippan modes, but also in withholding one's assent whenever one does not have, when confronted with conflicting positions on a given topic, enough evidence for preferring any one of them to the others. If this is so, then one should recognize the rationality of the Pyrrhonist's ε'πoχή on this point. This is not to say, of course, that he suspends judgment because he thinks that it is rational to do so, but only that from the point of view of non-Pyrrhonists his attitude should not be condemned so rashly. Acknowledgments I presented an abridged version of this paper at the journée d'étude "Certitude et Méthode" organized by the École Pratique des Hautes Études à la Sorbonne in May 2008. I am grateful to Carlos Lévy for the invitation to participate in that event. Another short version was delivered at the international conference "Ancient Pyrrhonism and its Influence on Modern and Contemporary Philosophy," held in Buenos Aires in August 2008. I would like to thank the participants for his criticisms and suggestions, particularly Juan Comesaña, Lorenzo Corti, Plínio Junqueira Smith, and Markus Lammenranta. A revised version of the paper was read at a meeting of the B Club, University of Cambridge, in October 2009. I thank the audience for useful remarks. I am also indebted to Mark McPherran, Katja Vogt, and especially Luca Castagnoli for their comments on previous versions of this essay. Finally, I am grateful to Dale Chock for correcting some infelicities of my English. References Annas, J. 1998. Doing without objective values: Ancient and modern strategies. In Companions to ancient thought IV: Ethics, ed. S. Everson, 193–220. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Annas, J., and J. Barnes. 1985. The modes of scepticism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Annas, J., and J. Barnes. 2000. Sextus Empiricus: Outlines of scepticism. 2nd edition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bailey, A. 2002. Sextus Empiricus and Pyrrhonean scepticism. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Barnes, J. 1990. Pyrrhonism, belief and causation: Observations on the scepticism of Sextus Empiricus. In Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt II 36.4, ed. W. Haase, 2608–2695. Berlin and New York: de Gruyter. 32On this use of reason, see Machuca (2009, pp. 119–20). 33Both the view that ε'πoχή is the rational result of the consideration of certain arguments and the underestimation of the actual scope of the Pyrrhonist's dialectical use of dogmatic logic and epistemology have led Pentzopoulou-Valalas (1994) to regard him as a "(crypto-)rationalist." Casey Perin (2006, pp. 358–9) and Katja Vogt (in her contribution to this volume) also claim that the Pyrrhonist is committed to certain canons of rationality. 76 D.E. Machuca Barnes, J. 2000. Introduction. In Annas, J., and J. Barnes 2000, xi–xxxi. Barney, R. 1992. Appearances and impressions. Phronesis 37: 283–313. Bénatouïl, T. 1997. Le scepticisme. Paris: Flammarion. Bett, R. 1994. Sextus's Against the Ethicists: Scepticism, relativism or both? Apeiron 27: 123–161. Bett, R. 1997. Sextus Empiricus: Against the ethicists. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Bett, R. 2000. Pyrrho: His antecedents and his legacy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Bonazzi, M. 2007. Enesidemo ed Eraclito. Rhizai 4: 329–338. Brennan, T. 1999. Ethics and epistemology in Sextus Empiricus. New York and London: Garland Publishing. Brochard, V. 2002. Les Sceptiques grecs. 4th edition. Paris: Le livre de poche. Burnyeat, M. 1997. Can the sceptic live his scepticism? In ed. M. Burnyeat and M. Frede, 25–57. Burnyeat, M., and M. Frede, eds. 1997. The original sceptics: A controversy. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett. Bury, R.G. 1933–1949. Sextus Empiricus. vol. 4. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Cassin, B., and Narcy, M. 1989. La décision du sens: Le livre gamma de la Métaphysique d'Aristote. Paris: Vrin. Caujolle-Zaslawsky, F. 1986. Le problème de l'expression et de la communication dans le scepticisme grec. In Philosophie du langage et grammaire dans l'antiquité. Cahiers de Philosophie Ancienne 5, 311–324. Bruxelles: Ousia. Cauchy, V. 1986. Critique de la théorie su signe et langage chez Sextus Empiricus. In Philosophie du langage et grammaire dans l′antiquité. Cahiers de Philosophie Ancienne 5, 325–338. Bruxelles: Ousia. Corti, L. 2009. Scepticisme et langage. Paris: Vrin. Frede, D. 1996. How sceptical were the academic sceptics? In Scepticism in the history of philosophy: A panamerican dialogue, ed. R.H. Popkin, 1–25. Dordrecht/Boston, MA/London: Kluwer. Frede, M. 1997a. The sceptic's beliefs. In ed. M. Burnyeat and M. Frede, 1–24. Frede, M. 1997b. The sceptic's two kinds of assent and the question of the possibility of knowledge. In ed. M. Burnyeat and M. Frede, 127–151. Gottlieb, P. 2007. Aristotle on non-contradiction. The Stanford encyclopedia of philosophy, ed. E. Zalta http://www.science.uva.nl/~seop/entries/aristotle-noncontradiction/. Accessed 28 June 2008. Grgić, F. 2006. Sextus Empiricus on the goal of skepticism. Ancient Philosophy 26: 141–160. Hankinson, R. 1994. Values, objectivity and dialectic; The sceptical attack on ethics: Its methods, aims, and success. Phronesis 39: 45–68. Hankinson, R.J. 1998. The sceptics. 2nd edition. London/New York: Routledge. Harte, V., and Lane, M. 1999. Pyrrhonism and Protagoreanism: Catching Sextus out? Logical Analysis and the History of Philosophy 2: 157–172. Horn, L. 2006. Contradiction. The Stanford encyclopedia of philosophy, ed. E. Zalta. http://plato. stanford.edu/entries/contradiction/. Accessed 25 July 2008. Lammenranta, M. 2008. The Pyrrhonian problematic. In The Oxford handbook of Skepticism, ed. J. Greco, 9–33. New York: Oxford University Press. Long, A.A. 2006. Aristotle and the history of Greek scepticism. In From Epicurus to Epictetus: Studies in Hellenistic and Roman philosophy, ed. A.A. Long, 43–69. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lukasiewicz, J. 1971. Aristotle on the law of contradiction. The Review of Metaphysics 24: 485–509. Machuca, D. 2005. Review of Bailey 2002. Ancient Philosophy 25: 212–222. Machuca, D. 2006. The Pyrrhonist's α'τα αξία and φιλανθ ωπία. Ancient Philosophy 26: 111–139. Machuca, D. 2007. Review of Sinnott-Armstrong 2004. International Journal of Philosophical Studies 15: 154–159. Machuca, D. 2009. Argumentative Persuasiveness in ancient Pyrrhonism. Méthexis 22: 101–126. 4 Pyrrhonism and the Law of Non-Contradiction 77 Maia Neto, J. 1995. The christianization of Pyrrhonism: Scepticism and faith in Pascal, Kierkegaard, and Shestov. Dordrecht: Kluwer. Mates, B. 1996. The skeptic way: Sextus Empiricus's Outlines of Pyrrhonism. New York: Oxford University Press. McPherran, M. 1987. Skeptical homeopathy and self-refutation. Phronesis 32: 290–328. McPherran, M. 1990. Pyrrhonism's arguments against value. Philosophical Studies 60: 127–142. Nussbaum, M. 1994. Skeptic purgatives: Disturbance and the life without belief. In The therapy of desire: Theory and practice in Hellenistic Ethics, ed. M. Nussbaum, 280–315. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Palmer, J. 2000. Skeptical investigation. Ancient Philosophy 20: 351–375. Pellegrin, P. 1997. Sextus Empiricus: Esquisses pyrrhoniennes. Paris: Seuil. Pentzopoulou-Valalas, T. 1994. Le rationalisme des sceptiques grecs. In Ainsi parlaient les anciens, eds. J. Lagrée and D. Delattre, 239–251. Paris: Presses Universitaires de Lille. Pérez-Jean, B. 2005. Dogmatisme et scepticisme: L'héraclitisme d'Énésidème. Lille: Septentrion. Perin, C. 2006. Pyrrhonian scepticism and the search for truth. Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 30: 337–360. Polito, R.H. 2004. The sceptical road: Aenesidemus' appropriation of Heraclitus. Leiden and Boston: Brill. Priest, G. 2004. Dialetheism. In The Stanford encyclopedia of philosophy, ed. E. Zalta. http://plato. stanford.edu/entries/dialetheism/. Accessed 26 June 2008. Priest, G., and Tanaka, K. 2007. Paraconsistent logic. In The Stanford encyclopedia of philosophy, ed. E. Zalta. http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/logic-paraconsistent/. Accessed 28 Aug 2008. Rossitto, C. 1981. Sull'uso della contraddizione in Sesto Empirico. In Lo scetticismo antico, ed. G. Giannantoni, 547–562. Napoli: Bibliopolis. Schofield, M. 2007. Aenesidemus: Pyrrhonist and "Heraclitean." In Pyrrhonists, patricians, platonizers: Hellenistic philosophy in the period 155–186 BC, eds. A.M. Ioppolo and D. Sedley, 269–338. Napoli: Bibliopolis. Sinnott-Armstrong, W. ed. 2004. Pyrrhonian skepticism. New York: Oxford University Press. Spinelli, E. 1995. Sesto Empirico: Contro gli etici. Napoli: Bibliopolis. Stough, C. 1984. Sextus Empiricus on non-assertion. Phronesis 29: 137–164. Striker, G. 1996. Sceptical strategies. In her Essays on Hellenistic epistemology and ethics, 92–115. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Striker, G. 2001. Scepticism as a kind of philosophy. Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie 83: 113–129. Striker, G. 2004. Historical reflections on classical Pyrrhonism and neo-Pyrrhonism. In W. SinnottArmstrong, 2004, 13–24. Striker, G. 2010. Academics versus Pyrrhonists, reconsidered. In The Cambridge companion to ancient scepticism, ed. R. Bett, 195–207. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Trowbridge, J. 2006. Skepticism as a way of life: Sextus Empiricus and Zhuangzi. Journal of Chinese Philosophy 33: 249–265. Wedin, M. 1999. The scope of non-contradiction: A note on Aristotle's "Elenctic" proof in Metaphysics G 4. Apeiron 32: 231–242. Wedin, M. 2000. Some logical problems in Metaphysics gamma. Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 19: 113–162. Wedin, M. 2003. A curious turn in Metaphysics gamma: Protagoras and strong denial of the principle of non-contradiction. Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie 85: 107–130. Wedin, M. 2004a. On the use and abuse of non-contradiction: Aristotle's critique of Protagoras and Heraclitus in Metaphysics gamma 5. Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 26: 213–239. Wedin, M. 2004b. Aristotle on the firmness of the principle of non-contradiction. Phronesis 49: 225–263. Williams, M. 1988. Scepticism without theory. Review of Metaphysics 41: 547–588.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Fictions at work: the real qualities of fictional quantities in Leibniz's Specimen Dynamicum By Tzuchien Tho RESUMÉ Considérées mathématiquement, les infinitésimales de Leibniz étaient des fictions, des entités qui ont emprunté leur réalité à l'inexhaustabilité nécessaire de la division du continu. Reste que pour Leibniz toutes les entités géométriques ou mathématiques étaient dans tous les cas inactuelles, des produits de l'imagination. Cependant, dans son projet de dynamique, Leibniz a formulé une distinction entre les causes réelles et les effets imaginaires ou géométriques qui constituent les phénomènes de mouvement. En outre, il a donné, de cette cause réelle, une interprétation quantitative, mv 2 , produit de la masse et de la vitesse qui sont tous deux des quantités de nature extensive. Mais par crainte de confusion entre le réel et l'imaginaire, un nombre d'interprètes ont jugé problématique que l'écart du modèle mathématique leibnizien du mouvement soit comblé par la force et la nature quantitative qui lui est attribuée. Dans ce qui suit, je soutiens que la compréhension de la force comme cause du mouvement nous oblige non seulement à tenir compte du rôle irréductible joué par les quantités mathématiques dans la nature causale de la force, mais aussi que les mathématiques déployées pour déplier ce rôle causal de la force consistent précisément dans la méthode du calcul infinitésimal. En tant que telles, bien que les quantités infinitésimales soient des fictions, elles jouent un rôle dans le rapport actuel entre la causalité fondamentale et systématique du mouvement et son effet phénoménal et extensionnel. I. Introduction Leibniz's Specimen Dynamicum presents a basic interpretive challenge. Given that this text was a synthetic sample of his dynamics project, what it prominently features is an alternative to a purely "imaginary" that is, merely geometrical or mathematical approach to corporeal motion, by posing force as the systematic foundation or cause governing the phenomenon of motion. Yet despite the metaor infraphenomenal status of force as the substantial and inherent reality of bodies, this very notion of force, understood as cause, plays a direct role in Leibniz's alternative mathematical account of the laws of motion starting with the estimation of vis viva as mv 2 . The problem is most telling when Leibniz uses infinitesimal quantities in his account and measure of dead forces. Given the fictional status of infinitesimals, we encounter not only a description of force in geometrical terms but also in fictional geometrical terms. The Specimen Dynamicum not only requires us to understand how forces are to be conceived through the quantities that they engender in physical laws but also how the use of infinitesimals is part and parcel to this conception. In what follows I argue for the necessity of these fictional infinitesimal quantities in Leibniz's account by demonstrating what it means to understand force as cause. First I briefly take up the seeming illegitimacy of using fictional infinitesimal quantities to describe the actuality of force. With the help of prominent commentators, we see that infinitesimal quantities are not any more problematic than other standard quantities in an account of corporeal motion through force. The reason is that if we isolate force as a foundation of corporeal motion with a metaphysical reality unto itself then any quantitative account would be heuristically adequate but ultimately insufficient. Secondly, given that Leibniz's own conception of force is immediately correlated with the quantity mv 2 as its measure, I argue that we cannot fully evade quantities by reductively separating the metaphysics of force from 2 its purported mathematical measure. By showing the inadequacy of Leibniz's own measurement of force I argue that what remains is nonetheless a positive and irreducible quantitative aspect in his conception of force. Thirdly, I argue that although we might not attach a particular quantity to this measure of force, Leibniz does provide sufficient means, through the architectonic principles of the equipollence of entire effect and full cause and the equivalence of hypotheses, to understand the quantitative nature of force qua cause. This requires us to understand that the causal nature of force is not only efficient but also teleological. It is this teleological dimension that allows us to grasp why forces are irreducibly quantitative in its organization of phenomena. In turn, I argue, through the Leibnizian critique of the "disorder" or incoherency of the quantities involved in the Cartesian account of motion, that to understand the causal nature of force is precisely to understand the ordering of the quantities in phenomena. Finally, I argue that the use of infinitesimals is part and parcel of this very ordering of quantities, a consequence, through the principle of continuity, of force qua cause. Infinitesimals then, despite being fictional and imaginary, are nonetheless an essential feature of what it means for force to be causal. Hence I conclude that although geometrical and mathematical quantities, including fictional infinitesimals, are imaginary, they are nonetheless at work in the reality of the causal engendering of phenomena, an actual bridge between causes and effects. II. The imaginary quality of fictional quantities Leibniz, in the publication of the first part of the Specimen Dynamicum in the April 1695 issue of the Acta Eruditorum, adds a clause that was not in the original manuscript. Immediately after having described the nisus or solicitation of vis mortua (dead force) as infinite parvum, Leibniz adds the caveat that: "quanquam non ideo velim haec Entia Mathematica reapse sic reperiri in natura, sed tantum ad accuratas aestimationes abstractione animi faciendas prodesse." 1 This apologetic addition may have been aimed at assuaging his contemporaries but its tardy entrance into the text draws our curiosity. Indeed such a statement, regardless of its explicit and straight-forward manner, does nothing more than to state that dead forces are not actually infinitely small magnitudes but does not give any clue to how or why these fictional quantities are nonetheless useful in making "accuratas aestimationes". Of course Leibniz's apologetic qualification of the fictional status of infinitesimal magnitudes is not any different from what he says frequently and unequivocally elsewhere. As early as 1676, Leibniz had already used the notion of infinitesimals as "quantitates fictitiae" in a clear way. 2 Years later in the early 1700's Leibniz would respond to debates raging in the French Royal Academy concerning the infinitesimal calculus again by *I thank Amanda Hicks, John Bova and the anonymous reviewer for their patience in reading the drafts of this text and for their comments. Thanks to Marc Elmund for his generous help with the figures. I am also grateful for the advice of Prof. Eberhard Knobloch and his numerous criticisms of a previous draft. Outside of abbreviations standard to Studia Leibnitiana, abbreviations here follow convention: AG = G.W. Leibniz: Philosophical Essays, ed. Roger Ariew and Daniel Garber (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 1980). L = G.W. Leibniz: Philosophical Papers and Letters, 2 nd Edition, ed. Leroy Loemker (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1989). LC = G..W. Leibniz, The Labyrinth of the Continuum, ed. Richard T.W. Arthur (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2001). 1 Specimen Dynamicum hereafter abbreviated as Specimen. GM VI 238; AG 121. 2 A VII 6, 537; G.W. Leibniz, Quadrature arithmétique du cercle, de l'ellipse et de l'hyperbole, ed. Eberhard Knobloch, trans. Marc Parmentier (Paris: Vrin, 2004), 71. 3 designating infinitesimals as "ideals and well-founded fictions". 3 Although infinitesimal quantities can be understood as fictional, this characterization does not do much to clarify their role in the Specimen. We see throughout the Specimen and in other dynamical writings that Leibniz engages deeply in the structure of his infinitesimal calculus to provide an account of the different aspects of force, their relations to motion and the relations between the quantities involved in motion in the Specimen. Leibniz's correlation of dead force with an infinitesimal magnitude is part of a systematic use of the infinitesimal calculus to describe extended motion. With regard to the nature of motion, Leibniz unequivocally states that, "Porro ut aestimatio motus per temporis tractum fit ex inanitis impetibus, ita vicissim impetus ipse (etsi res momentanea) fit ex infinitis gradibus successive eidem mobili impressis, habetque elementum quoddam, quo non nisi infinities replicato nasci potest." 4 Leibniz had previously defined motus or extended motion as "change of place" and "instantaneous element of motion" as motio. 5 Impetus had also been defined as the momentary quantity of motion or the product of velocity and mass. Impetus is then mv, what the Cartesians called "quantity of motion". 6 Leibniz explains that the quantity of a motion, understood as extended corporeal motion, is made up of the "sum over time" of infinite slices of momentaneous impetus, which are, in turn, the product of momentaneous velocity and mass. 7 Leibniz further says that the impetus themselves are the result of an infinite number of impressions or solicitations (nisus). In modern terms, we might say that the impetus is the momentaneous "quantity of motion" and that the nisus, impressions or solicitations, are higher-order differentials that integrate into impetuses. 8 This use of higher-ordered 3 Leibniz letter to Varignon of 20 June 1702, GM IV 110. 4 GM VI 238; AG 121. 5 GM VI 237; AG 120. 6 GM VI 237; AG 120. 7 GM VI 237; AG 120. 8 In François Duchesneau's treatment of these passages in the Specimen, echoing Martial Gueroult's treatment of the same passages in Dynamique et Metaphysique Leibniziennes, he ventures to give a mathematical formulation of conatus, nisus and their resulting role in dead and living force. Duchesneau argues, Une transposition symbolique possible nous donnerait pour le conatus (compte tenu qu'il s'agit d'une quantité vectorielle): Conatus = dv = gdt Pour l'impetus réduit à la quantité de mouvement dans l'instant (=quantité de motion), par contraste avec m|v| pour Descartes: impetus= ∫ gdt = mv t 0 pour l'impetus dans son effet temporal: summation temporelle d'impetus= m∫ gtdt = m∫ vdt t 0 t 0 pour la force morte: vis mortua=m∫ gdt t 0 = mv pour la force vive: vis viva=m∫ gtdt = m∫ vdt t 0 = ms = mv2 t 0 Although the formalization here, especially the last line on "living force", makes little mathematical sense, it is one of the possible ways of understanding of Leibniz's explicit development in these passages of the Specimen. It is one possibility of rendering the degrees involved in integrating dead forces into the quantity of living forces. Duchesneau and Gueroult do make explicit both the mathematical intentions of Leibniz and the 4 differentials demonstrates a deep rather than superficial commitment to the methods of the infinitesimal calculus in this account since it is not only the question of arbitrarily defined heuristic metaphors for infinitely small quantities that are at stake here. Rather Leibniz is clear that the very structure put in place to account for these different orders of magnitudes in motion is none other than that of his infinitesimal calculus developed years before. In view of Leibniz's warning that infinitesimal quantities do not exist in nature, we could safely say that Leibniz limits his use of the infinitesimal calculus in his dynamics to an imaginary setting. We can understand Leibniz's use of imagination here through what Leibniz says in the Specimen when he remarks on the insufficiency of approaching corporeal motion by taking bodies as mere extended things, that is, in the abstraction of geometrical or mathematical features, "pure mathematica et imaginationi subjecta". 9 In fact this imaginary status of the infinitesimals is an essential feature of the Specimen. The Specimen constitutes one of the final and most synthetic texts in a project of articulating a dynamics, a "Nova Scientia Dynamica" as Leibniz called it, based on force, which roughly occupied Leibniz from around 1678 to the late 1690's. 10 The project commenced in the mid-1670's as a critique of Cartesian mechanism and evolved through successive stages of Leibniz's development of the notion of force as the cause of motion. The foundational status of force and the naming of dynamics as special science was first publically announced in De primae philosophiae emendatione et de notione substantiae published in 1694, a year before the Specimen but such a formulation was already expressed in a letter to Bodenhausen in 1689. 11 The central idea guiding this development was the conviction, against the Cartesians, that mere attention to the extended or geometrical features of motion is insufficient to provide a coherent theory of corporeal motion including laws of collision and conservation principles. Following an ideal of scientific knowledge of quasi-Aristotelian inspiration, Leibniz held that to know motion is to know its cause. The identification of the cause of motion as force then not only constituted a new science but also brought Leibniz to render force a centerpiece of his conception of substance in the 1680's and 1690's. In De primae philosophiae emendatione and other texts of the 1690's Leibniz is insistent on rendering vis viva (living force) and vis mortua (dead force) the two sides (form and matter) of a hylomorphic notion of substance. 12 As such, the dynamics project was one that was staked on the premise that a proper account of motion depends on an extra-geometrical register that is nonetheless capable of providing the grounds for its geometrical or extended features. This extra-geometrical or metaphysical register thus mediates the application of imaginary geometrical terms to the geometrical features of motion since the latter is itself only an imaginary thing. As such we should go a bit further here in noting that what are imaginary are not only the infinitesimal terms but any use of mathematics and geometry. Thus it seems that Leibniz is far from any danger of confounding the use of fictional infinitesimals with their hypostatization as real entities or, as he puts it, entities found in nature. Although Leibniz's declarations concerning the fictional nature of infinitesimals here and elsewhere are unequivocal, we nonetheless face a major interpretive problem. It seems that what allows Leibniz to safely apply mathematics to phenomena is the imaginary status of both of these domains. Yet, it seems that the purely imaginary interpretation of Leibniz's use of mathematics in the dynamics would render this use inadequate. On the one hand, the use of difficulties and multiple confusions therein. François Duchesneau, La dynamique de Leibniz, Paris: Vrin, 1994, 223; Cf. Martial Gueroult, Dynamique et metaphysique Leibniziennes (Paris, Les Belles Lettres, 1934), 38-39. See also fn. 31 below. 9 GM VI 241; AG 125 10 GM VI 234; AG 118. 11 GP IV 469. 12 GP IV 470. 5 mathematics in analyzing the imaginary, that is, extended features of motion does not overstep the bounds of Leibniz's fictional use of infinitesimal quantities. We use something imaginary to describe another imaginary thing. On the other hand, this separation profoundly draws the account of motion away from its cause, force, for which seemingly only a metaphysical account can be given. Hence if the mathematical account of corporeal motion in the Specimen and elsewhere in the dynamics project must remain on the extensional level of imagination, separated from the causal level of force, then it seems that Leibniz has not exactly fared better than the Cartesians against whom the project was first conceived. Even if Leibniz could provide a more robust foundation of physics, the account of motion would still remain essentially imaginary, that is, geometrical and extended. At the same time if we attempt to treat forces, and not merely motion, through the infinitesimal mathematical terms provided in the Specimen, we seem to face the problem of granting infinitesimal magnitudes, the measure of dead force, for example, a real and actual status. This was what Leibniz was careful to explicitly deny. A number of commentators have recently responded to this interpretive problem. D. Garber has argued that Leibniz uses mathematics to represent forces, but in this we should not mistake this representation as actualizing the quantities, especially infinitesimal ones, involved. 13 Garber argues that mathematical terms "represent" dynamical terms but does not offer much in the way of understanding why and how this representation is adequate to provide the link between force qua cause and the extended features of motion qua effect. F. Duchesneau, a thorough interpreter of Leibniz's dynamics who has a number of articles and a book-length treatment on the subject, offers an epistemological reading by arguing that the mathematical aspects of the Specimen constitute the elements of an analysis of motion (as opposed to a synthesis) which does not fully attain the completed science of a dynamics. 14 Duchesneau's position is that a completed (synthetic) science of the dynamics is one that would dispense with these quantities except heuristically and operate synthetically through essential or formal terms. 15 The use of quantities, infinitesimal and otherwise, are thus the elements for the modelization of motion which remain fictional precisely in the sense that they are useful for the analysis of phenomenon but can be dispensed with once the analysis is completed. My argument here is roughly in agreement with Duchesneau's general interpretation but aims at critically extending this view to provide an account of the crucial role that infinitesimals play in how these quantitative terms would lead to a completed science of the dynamics. That is, we must see the role of infinitesimals not only instrumentally in the analysis of motion but how these very quantities are irreducible in understanding force as the cause of motion in Leibniz's dynamics project. The danger of not clarifying this role of infinitesimals in bridging force and motion is to slip into a reductively imaginary interpretation of the role of infinitesimals. This very danger is reflected in D. Rutherford's recent commentary. Rutherford explicitly shares our interpretive problem stated above. He points out that Leibniz's argument commits us to the position that momentary forces (ie. dead force), like the infinitesimals that describe them, are mere fictions. "[I]f force is real, it cannot be an infinitesimal quantity; if it is an infinitesimal quantity, it cannot be real." 16 As such, Rutherford argues, we must reject the possibility of any 13 Daniel Garber, "Dead Force Infinitesimals, and the Mathematicization of Nature", in Infinitesimal Differences, edited by Ursula Goldenbaum and Douglas Jesseph (Berlin and New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2008), 281-306. 14 François Duchesneau, La dynamique de Leibniz (Paris: Vrin, 1994); Cf. François Duchesneau, "Rule of Continuity and Infinitesimals in Leibniz's Physics", in Infinitesimal Differences, 235-253. 15 Duchesneau, La dynamique de Leibniz, 260-262. 16 Donald Rutherford, "Leibniz on Infinitesimals and the Reality of Force" in Infinitesimal Differences, 256; A 6 adequate representation of force through mathematical means and limit the use of mathematics in the dynamics only to the various configurations of extended motion. Force is then an essentially metaphysical notion, something that Leibniz describes as "praeter pure mathematica et imaginationi subjecta, collegi quaedam metaphysica solaque mente perceptibilia esse admittenda" in the Specimen. 17 Here, Rutherford adds, the "momentary" feature ascribed to dead forces soliciting movement does not last "for" a moment or any finite or infinitesimal amount of time but rather "at" a moment. As such, the fact that forces constitute the cause of motions does not mean that it constitutes the "principle" of such motions. Given the constraints that constitute the dynamics project, that is, the critique of Cartesian mechanism and the separation of a causal level of force from an imaginary level of motions, Rutherford's interpretation attempts to strike a balance between the metaphysical and scientific desiderata of the Specimen. In this reading even an epistemologically instrumental interpretation of infinitesimal quantities is misleading. If Leibniz is to be consistent, Rutherford argues, the mathematical terms ascribed to forces must be treated as heuristic in the loosest sense since forces can only be coherently taken as constituting the metaphysical and "internal" changes of a substance and not correlated in any strict way to the nature of motion itself. 18 Rutherford's sequestering of the status of forces to a metaphysical level is overly reductive. We agree that Leibniz's development of the notion of force in the Specimen and elsewhere possess a deeply metaphysical character that must not be ignored. Indeed, in the Specimen Leibniz uses the distinction between primitive and derivative forces to underline the per se or metaphysical nature of corporeal substance, understood as constant action (primitive), against their situated motions in the phenomena limited by their collision with other bodies (derivative). The measurable sort of force could only be the derivative sort since primitive force understood as the constant and immanent action of corporeal substances is non-phenomenal and escape measurement. Yet the Specimen remains a text aimed at employing force to explicate motion in a way that would refute and replace competing Cartesian, Occasionalist and (Cambridge) Platonist theories. As such, Leibniz clearly states the inadequacy of providing merely a theory of primitive force as "ad generales causas pertinet, quae phaenomenis explicandis sufficere non possunt." 19 The metaphysical import of Leibniz's dynamics should be asserted but not at the cost of reducing forces to its exclusively metaphysical status. Rather it is precisely through forces understood as both primitive and derivative that Leibniz articulated the importance of providing a coherent foundation for a science of dynamics. The foundational task of the dynamics was developed throughout the late 1670's up to the 1690's, the two decades leading up to the Specimen. Part and parcel of this evolution, with metaphysical as well as scientific implications, was Leibniz's guiding notion, already active in his initial critiques of Descartes in the 1678 De Corporum Concursu, of a direct association of force with a quantity, what he would eventually call the conservation of vis viva or force as mv 2 . This conservation, to be clear, is what Leibniz calls the measurement or estimation of force. 20 This is something that Leibniz adopts from his Dutch-Parisian mentor Christiaan Huygens's theory of elastic collision and a major aspect of his entry into a full- related interpretation, largely consonant with Rutherford's position is that of Robert Sleigh Jr. but applied to §17 of Discours de Métaphysique; Cf. Robert Sleigh Jr., Leibniz and Arnauld: a commentary on their correspondence (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990), 117. 17 GM VI 241; AG 125. 18 This understanding of causation is also consonant with Rutherford's more systematic interpretation in Leibniz and the Rational Order of Nature (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995). 19 GM VI 236; AG 119. 20 GM VI 243; AG 127. 7 fledged critique of Cartesian mechanism. 21 The identification of force with a quantity mv 2 is, in short, Leibniz's path from a mere critique of mechanics into the dynamics qua special science. The over-emphasis of the metaphysical characterization of force is dangerous because it obliges us to give up too much of what Leibniz attempted to do in the Specimen. The role of force in bridging a metaphysical and phenomenal level in the account of force qua cause and motion qua effect should be emphasized rather than set aside in favor of a metaphysical reduction. The reason why commentators like Rutherford find this reductive solution attractive is because it is difficult to see how Leibniz could use mathematical terms in the account except in an imaginary manner. In this view since we do not want to treat forces as imaginary, we must reject its correlation with (imaginary) mathematical terms. To overturn this reduction of mathematics to a pure imaginary status, we must see how Leibniz's conservation of force through the quantity mv 2 cannot be reduced to the metaphysical realm. By examining Leibniz's use of quantity in the dynamics, we find that, together with Leibniz's larger metaphysical concerns, the use of mathematics plays an irreducible role in the account of forces without thereby dissolving the actuality of force into mere imagination. III. Complications in the measure and conservation of vis viva A comprehensive account of Leibniz's use of mv 2 is too complex to enter into here and we shall focus only on its role in the Specimen. Yet to slightly contextualize this quantity, we simply note that Leibniz had as early as 1669 noted the controversy over conservation principles of motion occurring through the British Royal Society's Philosophical Transactions in 1668 wherein John Wallis, Christopher Wren and Christiaan Huygens published papers concerning the conservation of mv, m|v| and mv 2 . 22 Leibniz's serious engagement with the notion of mv 2 as the quantity conserved in motion is an explicit aspect of his 1678 De Corporum Concursu. From 1678 onward, Leibniz would return again and again to this quantity and it is no surprise that we find it explicitly in the Specimen as a "measure of force". 23 What is surprising is that the guiding role played by the quantity mv 2 in the evolution of Leibniz's dynamics ends up being presented in the Specimen in a different way. His uses of mv 2 in many of the texts leading up to the Specimen are associated with the laws of collision, close to the original Huygenian context. Located in the posthumously published second part of the Specimen, not only does the explicit discussion of the laws of collision proceed without the explicit use of mv 2 but, in the first part, the quantity becomes attached to another example, that of the motion of a pendulum. In earlier dynamical works such as De Corporum Concursu, echoing the works of Edme Mariotte whom he explicitly mentions in the Specimen, Leibniz makes use of pendulum examples but as a case of collision between two pendulums at the base of descent. 24 21 Cf. Christiaan Huygens, "The motion of colliding bodies", trans. Richard J. Blackwell, Isis, Vol. 68, No. 4 (Dec., 1977), 574-597. 22 Eric J. Aiton, Leibniz: A Biography (Bristol and Boston: Hilger Alexander, 1985), 30; Cf. Philip Beeley, "A Philosophical Apprenticeship: Leibniz's Correspondence with the Secretary of the Royal Society, Henry Oldenburg" in Leibniz and his Correspondents, edited by Paul Lodge (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004) 47-73, 55. 23 GM VI 243; AG 127. 24 GM VI 240; AG 123; G.W. Leibniz, La réforme de la dynamique, ed. Michel Fichant (Paris: Vrin, 1994), 265; Edme Mariotte, Traité de la percussion ou du chocq des corps, Paris 1673, 8-22. 8 Figure 1 25 The case in the Specimen is different in that it attempts to measure force through the unconstrained motion of the pendulum. This association of mv 2 with the unconstrained motion of the pendulum reveals an important aspect of Leibniz's argument in the Specimen. In taking a closer look, we examine the difficulties in establishing the conservation of vis viva through the quantity mv 2 . In the passage that immediately follows his announcement for obtaining a "measure of force", Leibniz appeals to a series of examples involving pendulums. The first and simplest case considers two pendulums, side by side, of equal mass, A and C. Referencing Galileo's law of falling bodies, Leibniz reasons that the pendulum A with a speed of 1 unit ascends to a height of 1 foot. In turn the pendulum C with the speed of 2 units ascends to the height of 4 feet. This means that a pendulum with 2 units of speed has four times as much power, as Leibniz calls it, or work in modern mechanical terms, than a pendulum of the same mass moving at 1 unit of speed. Conversely this also means that the speed attained by the second pendulum C at the base of their descent will be twice that of the first pendulum A. Figure 2 26 Leibniz draws the conclusion from this demonstration that, "Eodemque modo generaliter colligitur, vires aequalium corporum esse ut quadrata celeritatum, et proinde vires corporum in universum esse in ratione composita ex corporum simplice et celeritatum duplicata." 27 The veracity of mv 2 , as opposed to 1/2mv 2 , for the conservation of energy is not our concern here. Indeed, Leibniz does not need to make explicit the gravitational constant or the factor of 1⁄2 since he constructs a suitably simple comparative case between the two bodies A and C (of equal mass). All that needs to be demonstrated is that the quadratic increase of speed (acceleration) drawn from his use of Galileo's law of falling bodies means that the height (four times) attained by body C directly reflects the principle that the linear difference 25 The sort of experiment Leibniz describes in De Corporum Concursu (section 6-2) models the motion of two pendulums A and B colliding at the base of descent; Cf. Leibniz, La réforme de la dynamique, 131. 26 Figure reconstructed from AG 128. 27 GM VI 245; AG 128. 9 of speed between the two masses is proportional to the quadratic difference of height and hence power [virtus]. Yet despite providing an adequate measure for the quantities in this sort of example, it has not attained the status of a conservation principle for vis viva. I follow Carolyn Iltis here is maintaining that although Leibniz has achieved a measurement for the conservation of potential and kinetic energy, it is far from clear that he has established a conservation for vis viva or its universal measure. 28 Leibniz's argument here, brilliant as it is, does not provide such a conservation. Iltis' critical remarks on the earlier works like Brevis Demonstratio Erroris Memorabilis Cartesii et Aliorum Circa Legem Naturae and §17 of Discours de métaphysique, are equally applicable to the Specimen. The point is that although Leibniz has given a measurement of some quantity conserved in nature, namely energy-work, this measure is not generalizable to other cases and a demonstration of this generalization has not been provided here. In this example above, the conservation of vis viva is presumed rather than demonstrated. Iltis further remarks that in the eventual history of the conservation of energy, scientists like Mayer, Joule and Helmholtz were also similarly beholden to a "metaphysical certainty" of the general conservation of energy guiding their empirical work. 29 Duchesneau has argued against Iltis in remarking that there can be no empirical principle adequate to providing such a demonstration of the conservation principle. With respect to the conservation of vis viva, there are only, for Duchesneau, "regulative theoretical principles for the interpretation of facts." 30 As such, for Duchesneau, Iltis sets up an impossible criterion in criticizing Leibniz. In reading these interpretations synthetically, we can observe that what Duchsneau and Iltis agree on is that insofar there can be no empirical demonstration for a generalized conservation of vis viva without first supposing it, what this pendulum example demonstrates is still at a certain distance from a measure of vis viva as such. In this, Leibniz's concept of force should then not be strictly identified with the conservation of mv 2 but rather the very idea of some quantity conserved in the nature of motion. 31 We have further reason then not to separate the "metaphysics" of force from its "empirical" measurement in a radical separation of a non-quantitative primitive force from its quantitative or extended counterpart, derivative force. The notion of force is irreducibly quantitative even if it needs not be correlated to the specific quantity mv 2 . We will examine some aspects of the underlying methodology of measure in this example a little later. What is crucial for now is to show that these complications in establishing a measure of vis viva allow us to make clear the real stakes of his arguments here. Before entering into a more direct discussion of this, we should first see the immediate aims of this conservation principle. In the passages that immediately follow the simple pendulum example discussed above, Leibniz provides a more complex and critical analysis. Leibniz moves from his simple pendulum case to critique what he takes to be the main 28 Carolyn Iltis, "Leibniz and the Vis Viva Controversy", Isis, Vol. 62, No. 1 (1971), 21-35, 26. 29 Carolyn Iltis, "Leibniz and the Vis Viva Controversy", 27. 30 [Author's translation] Duchesneau, La dynamique de Leibniz, 137. 31 It is worth noting here that Leibniz's estimation of living force as mv 2 has led to a host of problems in his lifetime and for recent commentators that these two points above cannot encapsulate. Its actual role in the continuity of the history of mechanics is also widely debated. I follow the general consensus argued by R. Westfall and I. Szabó that Leibniz could not fully justify his assertion of this quantity due to his confounding of static and kinetic principles in such crucial texts as Brevis Demonstratio Erroris Memorabilis Cartesii et Aliorum Circa Legem Naturae and §17 of Discours de Métaphysique. An additional difficulty is the instantiation of living force, understood as a metaphysical entity, in time. My position here is neutral on these debates and my argument needs only to draw from the consensus concerning the errors of the estimation of living force as mv 2 and the idea that, despite these errors, some quantity is conserved in motion; Cf. Richard S. Westfall, Force in Newton's Physics: The Science of Dynamics in the Seventeenth Century (New York: Elsevier, 1971), 299-301; Cf. Istvan Szabó, Geschichte der mechanischen Prinzipen (Basel: Birkhauser, 1979, 3 rd Ed.), p. 70-71. 10 flaw, among others, of Cartesian mechanism, the alleged conservation of the "quantity of motion" mv or impetus. Here Leibniz modifies his initial pendulum example to one that more resembles, but does not coincide, with his argument, mentioned above, in De Corporum Concursu. 32 This time, body A will be 2 units in size and C will be 1 unit in size. Their maximum speeds at the base of descent remains the same as the previous, A will be traveling at 1 unit of speed and B will be traveling at 2 units. Now according to his construal of the Cartesian laws of motion, the "quantity of motion" (mv) conserved in both bodies will be the same. The quantity in A will be 2(=2*1) and the quantity in C is also 2(=1*2). In this case, Leibniz can show, drawing from the fact that the Galilean principle of the rate of fall is independent of mass, that since the speeds of the two pendulums are the same as the earlier example, they would behave in the same way. The body A would ascend to the height of 1 foot and C would ascend 4 feet. The quantities of work in this example will be different from the earlier example but assuming that the Cartesian "quantity of motion" mv was conserved, we could substitute one body for the other at the base of the descent of A and the start of the ascent of C since the "quantity of motion" between the two bodies would be identical at this state. Here Leibniz points to the absurdity that the "quantity of motion" conserved in body A would be capable of raising body C to a height of 4 feet. Not only is this empirically inadequate but Leibniz argues that this would result in a perpetual motion machine, an a priori demonstration of absurdity. 33 This is, in Leibniz's terms, an ad absurdum argument against the idea that the quantity conserved in motion is indeed mv. Although saddled with some of the similar problems in the previous example, this case shows more clearly the stakes involved. Its explicit taking aim at the Cartesians is obvious but in this Leibniz also reveals how he sought to put a theory of motion on the right footing. The conservation of mv is demonstrated as false since it leads to an absurdity but this demonstration does not sufficiently render the conservation of vis viva in alternative quantity mv 2 . We see that the argument only requires the hypothesis that some quantity is conserved in motion and with this it follows from the demonstration that the quantity conserved is not mv. Reading this back to the earlier example, we see that Leibniz can assert that some quantity is conserved in the motion of the pendulum between its height of ascent and its speed at the base of the descent. Yet without already positing such a quantity at the outset such a quantity conserved cannot be demonstrated except through unwarranted generalization. Yet Leibniz nonetheless provides evidence that some quantity is conserved in motion and that this quantity is not mv. This is not only a judicious critique of the Cartesians but more importantly shows the hypothetical status of Leibniz's use of mv 2 as the quantity conserved in this case of the motion of the pendulum. What we can draw from this analysis is that Leibniz's notion of force has a quantitative aspect and cannot be reduced to its metaphysical status. Indeed, Leibniz is committed to the idea that it is through the superiority of this quantitative measure that allows us, at least in part, to deem force the "cause" of motion. Earlier, we reasoned, with Rutherford, that mathematical terms could only be adequate to the extensional features of motion and not to the causal and actual reality underlying such phenomena. We also emphasized that the non-phenomenal nature of force was important to its conception and development precisely because it forms the core of his criticism of the purely mechanical and geometrical focus of Cartesian mechanics. Yet we also see that part and parcel to this 32 Leibniz, La réforme de la dynamique, 129-137; Cf. François Duchesneau, La dynamique de Leibniz, 123-132. 33 The problem of a machine capable of perpetual motion is an underlying theme in Leibniz's dynamics. The a priori absurdity here is due to the fact that such a mechanism would violate the law of equipollence of entire effect and full cause: effectum integrum aequipollere suae causae. Leibniz provides a direct demonstration of the a priori absurdity of the perpetual machine in the second demonstration of the "preliminary specimen" of his Dynamica: De Potentia et Legibus Naturae Corporeae, dated to 1691. GM VI 289-290. Also see fn. 36 below. 11 conception of force is quantitative and the reduction of force to metaphysics would result in the independence of this quantitative aspect. We noted that the conservation of the quantity mv 2 was developmentally central to the evolution of the notion of force since the mid 1670's. Despite the incompleteness of Leibniz's argument for this quantity in the Specimen, we see that the idea that there is some quantity conserved in motion is a different from the question of what this quantity is. IV. Stuctura systematis, architectonics and final cause Our general interpretive problem can now be posed differently. We have suggested that Leibniz's notion of force has an irreducible quantitative aspect but just as we are wary of reducing force to a metaphysical notion, we are just as wary of reducing it into purely extensional qualities. Moving forward, if we succeed in showing a non-phenomenal (nonempirical) use of quantity in Leibniz's notion of force, we can strike a different kind of balance between the metaphysical and scientific desiderata of this notion in the Specimen. The key to unlocking this use of quantity is to look at the method behind Leibniz's measure of force. Recall that in the second pendulum example, critical of the Cartesians, Leibniz treats two pendulums, A with the mass of one unit and C with mass of two units. Under the Cartesian hypothesis, these two bodies possess the same amount of "power", conserved as the quantity mv. As it occurs, body C will still attain a height of 4 feet and body A will attain 1 foot. In this way, Leibniz argues that the results are paralogistic and would, under appropriate arrangements of the pendulums, lead to a perpetual motion machine. Instead of directly arguing through the phenomenon of the work and the conservation of energy, Leibniz's ad absurdum argument here relies on the more general principle of what he calls the equipollence of cause and effect. In the Specimen, Leibniz defines this principle by remarking that, "naturam nunqua sibi viribus inaequalia substituere, sed effectum integrum semper causae plenae aequalem esse." 34 By effect here Leibniz means the entire phenomenon of motion understood as the entire range of the extended or geometrical features (size, shape and speed) in a motion. In turn, cause is to be understood as what engenders this range of quantities in a motion. In the terms of cause and effect, Leibniz's demonstration of a paralogism is in fact the argument that the "cause" proposed by the Cartesians cannot be adequate to the entire series of effects rendered quantitatively. Our aim here is to stick as close as we can to the Specimen but we cannot ignore the immense accumulation of work that led to such a synthetic text. In brief we can underline the importance that the principle of the equipollence of entire effect and full cause played in the conception and development of the entire dynamics project. 35 Already noted by Leibniz in the 1676 Elementa philosophiae arcanae, he designates this principle as the primary axiom notion governing physics or physical things. 36 Following commentators like Gueroult and Duchesneau, we see how the deployment of the principle allowed Leibniz to move from an a posteriori method of analyzing motion in his earlier dynamical writings to an a priori method of analysis in the matured view starting around the 1689 Phoranomus seu de potentia et legibus naturae and Dynamica de potentia et legibus naturae corporeae. 37 The problem that 34 GM VI 245; AG 129. 35 A VI 3, 399. 36 A VI 3 427; "Tria axiomata primaria: Mathematicae, totum esse aequale omnibus partibus. Physicae, effectum integrum aequipollere suae causae. Scientiae Civilis, Mundum esse optimam Rempublicam, sive omnia in mundo fieri optimo modo." 37 Cf. Martial Gueroult, Dynamique et metaphysique Leibniziennes, 110-111; Cf. François Duchesneau, "The Theoretical Shift in the Phoranomus and Dynamica de Potentia", Perspectives on Science 6: 1&2 (1998), 77109. 12 Leibniz faced in his earlier dynamical work in the late 1670's was that although his arguments were sufficient to show that the Cartesian laws of nature were erroneous and already contained arguments for the superiority of the conservation of mv 2 , not only was this insufficient to understand this quantity conserved as the conservation of force but it was also far from establishing force as the immanent cause of motion inherent in corporeal substances. What marks Leibniz's maturation was the use of the equipollence of cause and effect to develop a formal understanding of cause and effect. Developed in the Dynamica, the a priori determination of formal effect is understood as the power to act and the formal cause understood as the cause of this power, that is, force. This methodological shift accounts for why examples concerning unconstrained motions, say a pendulum, play a central role in his estimation of vis viva. These are examples where formal effects are shown through the exhaustion of motion attaining rest, what Leibniz calls "violent" effects since in such motions power is measured by the "consumption" of power resulting in rest. As we have seen, this form of measurement is precisely the sort that Leibniz uses in the Specimen. This shift also accounts for why these measurements of forces can only be the result of comparison. A collision of bodies preserves the power to act redistributed between the colliding bodies. As such force is more directly measured by comparing the exhaustion of different motions or, in modern terms, the transfer of kinetic into potential energy. We follow Gueroult and Duchesneau in pointing out that the development of a formal treatment of the equipollence of cause and effect constitute the aim of such an a priori turn in the dynamics. 38 This move to a formal understanding of cause and effect is what allows Leibniz to definitively move away from the insufficiencies of his earlier empirically driven reform of what remained essentially a "Cartesian" mechanics. Leibniz could, through this turn, impute formal cause and effect to the inherent nature of bodies themselves and hence remove himself from a range of possible kinematic (Cartesian, occasionalist or otherwise mechanistic) interpretations of his reformed mechanics. In his separate correspondences to Papin in 14 April 1698 and to De Volder in 23 March/3 April 1699 (a few years after the Specimen), Leibniz could even make a syllogistic argument to define the capacity to act through the measurement of the exhaustion of a motion according to a ratio of the square of velocity and time. 39 Such an argument leads to issues beyond our scope here but these developments contextualize the Specimen insofar as we can better appreciate how the metaphysical understanding of force goes hand in hand with a shift in the manner in which Leibniz conceived of the problem of measuring force. In brief, the developmental conceptualization of force as the cause of motion coincides with a formalization of the quantities in motion, the means through which measurements are put into meaningful correspondence. Rather than a separation of the quantitative aspects of motion from their metaphysics, the methodological separation of phenomena and metaphysics was precisely what Leibniz had to reject and overcome in order to lend credence to the metaphysical reality of forces via its determining causal role in ordering the phenomenon of motion. We avoid directly imputing such a developmental discussion into the Specimen because this text is not one relies on the formalization of cause and effect, something left aside for a more condensed explication. However this condensation also reveals how Leibniz understood the architectonic principles such as the formal treatment of the equipollence of cause and effect, in relation to the dynamics in general. That is, the argument that Leibniz pursues in deploying this architectonic principle is a teleological one. Hence in understanding what it means for effect to be equipollent to cause in the Specimen, we must emphasize that 38 Cf. Martial Gueroult, Dynamique et metaphysique Leibniziennes, 131-137; Cf. François Duchesneau, "The Theoretical Shift in the Phoranomus and Dynamica de Potentia", 88. 39 Leibniz, Letter to Papin 14 April 1689, LBr 714, fol. 136v; Letter to De Volder, 23 March/3 April 1699, GP II 173; Cf. François Duchesneau, "The Theoretical Shift in the Phoranomus and Dynamica de Potentia", 103. 13 cause is, at least in his argument here, to be understood teleologically. In the Specimen and other texts of the dynamics project, Leibniz emphasizes a double sense of causation in understanding motion. The world is governed through two interpenetrating but non-conflicting kingdoms, the kingdom of power, that of efficient causality and the kingdom of wisdom, that of final causality. Final causality is not however solely concerned with the determination of normative values, as one might imagine, separating a realm of facts from one of norms. Final causes, as Leibniz argues, have scientific importance and do not reduce metaphysically. After all, the idea that from the wisdom and providence of God the creator follows the best of all possible worlds is a notion that, for Leibniz, plays an ampliative role in many domains. In this vein, Leibniz argues in the 1696 Tentamen Anagogicum, around the same period as the Specimen, that the inadequacy of geometry for demonstrating the laws of motion is due to the fact that it can only rely on deductive necessity whereas the demonstrations of actuality require appeal to the degree of harmony or perfection in the principles, that is, as Leibniz calls them, « des principes plus sublimes, qui marquent la sagesse de l'auteur dans l'ordre et dans la perfection de l'ouvrage. » 40 In his separation of the governing principles of the two "kingdoms" in this text, this principle of harmony and perfection, or final causality, Leibniz argues, correspond to the determination of architectonic principles. 41 Architectonic principles understood as teleological causes are scientifically important precisely because geometrical reasoning is too deductively strict to provide a sufficient account of phenomena. Hence, on the one hand, laws of motion cannot be deduced geometrically and on the other hand, the geometrical features of motion are not sufficient reason for their actuality but only their possibility. The specific case Leibniz aimed to address in the Tentamen Anagogicum was the controversy over reflection (catoptric) and refraction (dioptric) principles in optics. In brief, the Snell-Descartes law, argued by Descartes in his 1637 Discours de la méthode, had caused a controversy that pitted Fermat against the Cartesians. Leibniz was well-read on this topic and also noted Huygens' and Molyneux's contributions to the controversy. The controversy was essentially about the principle that governed the motion of light in reflection on a surface and refraction through a medium. On the question of refraction, the Cartesians, sticking with a mechanistic explanation, argued that light would move through the shortest path through the medium and Fermat argued teleologically that light would travel with the fastest speed through the medium. The problem was that it turned out that both Descartes and Fermat provided calculations that were adequate to observation. From the mere description of the geometrical features of the motion of light we could not judge between the appropriate principles that governed this very motion. Leibniz's contribution to this debate was that both these opposing positions were in some sense right but that neither could grasp the harmony between the efficient and teleological causes. Leibniz reasoned that both approaches could be harmonized not only to give a single explanation that combined efficient and teleological understanding but also give a single principle for reflection and refraction. Leaving out the details here we simply note that Leibniz argues that only an architectonic principle, what he calls the principle of the "effect of the greatest ease" or "most determined path", can allow us a maximally explanatory but unique principle for determining the actual path of light. 42 In the direct context of the Specimen, Leibniz cites, for the sake of authority, that his work on the optics published in the Acta Eruditorum of 1682 Unicum Opticae, Catoptricae, et Dioptricae Principium had already been commended by Molyneux. The principle of 40 GP VII 272. 41 GP VII 279. 42 GP VII 274; L 479. 14 "effect of greatest ease" discussed in the Tentamen Anagogicum refers back to this 1682 article for which Molyneux gave a partial translation. 43 Although the problems from the domain of optics play a minor role here in the Specimen, the question of this convergence between efficient and final causes is significant. As part of the same discussion in the Specimen, Leibniz underlines his previous mistakes in understanding efficient cause. Here, Leibniz recounts the "materialism" of his youth. Leaving out explicit mention of Hobbes, who was no small influence in his youth, he notes the Democritean, Gassendian and Cartesian inspiration of his earlier work like the Hypothesis Physica Nova. In recounting his youthful follies, he emphasizes the mistake of thinking that, "omne incurrens suum conatuum dare excipienti seu directe obstanti qua tali." 44 Here Leibniz makes clear that the development of the concept of force allowed him to understand efficient causality without any commitment to this model of the transfer of conatus or influxus physicus. 45 That is to say, the efficient causality involved in collision is not the transfer of geometrical quantities from one body to another. Rather, motion is the result of the immanent action of force within a substance. The most obvious implication here is that a body at rest does not simply "receive" the conatus of the body striking it. The quantities of conatus and the effects that result from collision are part of a systematic organization of forces that reflect immanent rather than external causes. This is what Leibniz means when he argues in the Specimen that the concept of force is meant to provide a "structura systematis" that allows us to avoid "quae per se ex nudis motus legibus a pura Geometria repetitis consequerentur." 46 As such this systematic structure is one where the usual sense of an "efficient cause" is understood as metaphysically and architectonically convergent or harmonious with teleological causation. What the development of force, through a stuctura systematis, adds to the account of motion, regardless of whether we are considering the collision of bodies or the path of light is precisely that efficient cause is to be understood as part and parcel with teleological cause. Efficient cause cannot be understood by itself since it would have to rely on the inadequate resources of geometry. Force qua cause allows us to understand how cause engenders effects qua motions in a manner "structura systematis". Efficient cause is not then a question of transferring quantities such as energy from one body to another. Efficient cause allows us to calculate motion and predict its behavior through principles and quantities both of which are governed and ordered teleologically. As such, force is cause insofar as it is the systematic ordering of motion and motion is in turn nothing but the quantitative or geometric values expressed in the change of place. The causal nature of force is thus the systematic ordering of the quantitative values involved in motion. A further point to draw Leibnizian efficient causality away from intuitive notions of the "transfer" or "influx" of a quantity in one body to another in collision is that the force or "power" qua potentia involved in Leibnizian dynamics is not an Aristotelian "potential" that comes to be actualized. For Leibniz, force is in constant action, the immanent reality, qua actio, of corporeal substances. In the narration of his youthful errors, Leibniz underlines his ignorance of this notion. Indeed, his maturation through the evolution of the concept of force results in the constant activity of force even in a body considered to be at rest. The idea is that no body is per se at rest and that relative rest can only be hypothesized for the purposes of modeling motion. As such the constant action of force in a body, force per se, is present even in the body considered at rest qua resistance. In this we see that the causality of force in motion can neither be intuitively understood mechanically as the efficient "transfer" between potential energy and kinetic energy nor through Aristotle as the actualization of a potential. 43 Dutens III 145-150. 44 GM VI 240; AG 123. 45 A VI 4, 1647; L 269. 46 GM VI 241; AG 124. 15 The conservation of vis viva is thus nothing but the ordering of the quantities in motion. We cannot pretend to have given a complete analysis of such a notoriously difficult problem as Leibnizian causality here. Regardless of its complexity, we can nonetheless establish that, for the purposes of dynamics, final causes play a determining (and harmonizing) role in efficient cause. 47 As such, Leibniz remarks in the Specimen that once the architectonic or "general and distant" principles have been established, "quoties postea de rerum naturalium causis efficientibus propinquis et specialibus tractatur, animabus aut Entelecheiis locum non damus, non magis quam otiosis facultatibus aut inexplicabilibus sympathiis." 48 That is, once established, the deeper principles for determining efficient causes need not be evoked in using these very causes for purposes of measurement. As such, how does the conservation of force in motion, as mv 2 or some other quantity, measure force itself? In view of the analysis above, we can only say that this "measure" is a feature of the comparability of the systematic arrangement of phenomena. The epistemological necessity of force as Leibniz emphasizes again and again is due to the inadequacy of geometry to furnish a coherent theory of motion. The architectonic principle behind this is the equipollence of cause and effect. In strictest sense one cannot say that the speed of a pendulum at the base causes it to reach a certain height any more than the speed and mass of a certain ball causes the speed of a ball that it collides with. We understand these quantities as effects, the entire range of motions and the arrangement of the quantities involved therein. As such, the entire range of motions in a pendulum swing is the effect caused by force understood architectonically. What it means to measure force then is to provide a framework for the comparison of effects through the principle of the equipollence of cause and effect. The quantities involved in this framework aimed at comparing effects in order to compare causes are, as we have argued, relative. Of course, within the account in the Specimen, such an organization is given through the conservation of mv 2 . We see that this "measure" of force is given architectonically or systematically, that is, by comparison across different cases. There is no direct "measure" of force but rather a relative measure through comparison. Once such a "measure" is architectonically given, we can directly treat individual cases through a notion of efficient cause. Yet even in this move from the systematic to the particular cases of efficient cause, the use of quantity remains relative. In the pendulum examples, Leibniz "measures" force by taking the effects exhibited in one case in comparison with the effects exhibited by another. Sticking with the equipollence of effect and cause, the quantitative differences of effects, registered in terms of mass and velocity, imply a difference of force . The role played by the conservation of force mv 2 is thus that of providing a capacity to compare forces through comparing motions or effects. Since force qua cause is non-phenomenal only effects can be compared. In understanding the way in which this comparison occurs, it is important to bear in mind that the quantity conserved in motion is distinct from the idea that some quantity is conserved. The idea that some quantity is conserved provides the condition and framework for the comparability of effects. This means that an essential feature of force is the organization of the effects that it engenders. As such, the comparability of effects, through the quantitative means governed by the equipollence of cause and effect, is part and parcel of what it means for force to cause motion. 47 Here I follow Jeffery K. McDonough's work on Leibnizian natural teleology (especially concerning questions in the optics) in asserting the harmony rather than the simple parallelism in Leibniz conception of efficient and final cause. Cf. Jeffery K. McDonough, "Leibniz's Two Realms Revisited", Nôus (43:4) 2008: 673-696; Jeffery K. McDonough, "Leibniz and natural teleology and the law of optics", Philosophy and Phenomenological Research (78:3) 2009: 505-544. 48 GM VI 242-243; AG 126. 16 This analysis leads us to understand the relationship between force and the quantities implied in the phenomenon of motion, qua effects, in a different way. Force is cause in the sense that it arranges the phenomenon of motion in a way that God could bring about the best of all possible worlds. As such, force is a structurally causal principle that governs the organization of phenomena. This organization is none other than the organization of the phenomenon of motion which is itself, in turn, none other than geometrical or extensional displacement (change of place). The explicit way in which this organization occurs is through the conserved quantity mv 2 but this is only hypothetical in Leibniz's understanding and a revisable feature of the relation of force and motion (cause and effect). Hence if we step back from the particular hypothesis of the conservation of mv 2 , we find that what is essential in Leibniz's argumentation is the equipollence of cause and effect. This is the architectonic principle responsible for understanding why force is irreducibly quantitative but not essentially tied to particular quantities such as the conservation of mv 2 . What is then the irreducible quantitative nature of force? It is clear that the relation of force to motion is quantitative only in the comparison between effects. This comparability is however not possible without the governing role of force over its motion, as cause and effect. This governing role is however the organization of the relation between quantities, not the quantities themselves. The quantitative feature of force then is not its association with this or that quantity strictly speaking but rather the structural organization of quantities. The structuring of relative quantities is what is irreducible in Leibniz's understanding of force, a quantitative feature that is irreducible to metaphysics. V. Equipollence, equivalence and continuity We are now in a position to return to the problem of infinitesimal quantities in the Specimen. Infinitesimal quantities like any other quantity in the Specimen are relative to each other. We have discussed Leibniz's framework for comparing non-quantitative forces through the quantities available in motion through the equipollence of cause and effect immediately above. To push this framework of comparability a step further, we turn to a more sophisticated framework of the comparison of quantities given through the architectonic principle of the equivalence of hypotheses. Leibniz's use of the equivalence of hypotheses is most known from his correspondence with Clarke, and indirectly Newton, over the relativity of motion in the controversy over Newtonian space-time. The term itself is drawn from larger contemporaneous discussions, from the geocentric-heliocentric debates, about how the same a posteriori predictive models for the movement of the celestial bodies can roughly be equivalent despite the contradictory theoretical hypotheses that grounded these models. Although questions of just what kind of space-time position Leibniz held and how Leibniz understood the relation between his affirmation of the equivalence of hypotheses and astronomy are currently debated questions, we shall stick solely to his use of the principle in the Specimen. In the second and posthumously published part of the Specimen 49 , Leibniz invokes the principle of the equivalence of hypotheses in a rather minimal way. He notes, in criticism of Descartes' laws of motion that, "aequivalentiam Hypothesium nec per corporum inter se concursus mutari, adeoque tales motuum regulas esse assignandas, ut natura motus respective maneat salva nec ex eventu post concursum divinari possit per phaenomena, ubi ante concursum fuerit quies aut determinatus motus absolutus." 50 49 GM VI 246-254; AG 130-138. 50 GM VI 247; AG 131 17 Echoing earlier geocentric-heliocentric debates, the basic case of the equivalence of hypotheses is the case of the relation of a moving body with a stationary one. The principle states that the organization of quantities results in the same effect regardless of which body we take to be moving and which one stationary. Since Leibniz holds that no body is actually stationary, the principle can be generalized to allow that all degrees of motion are relative within a motion. As such, the quantities organized through force qua cause not only require comparability but that this very comparability is also understood as relative. The relativity of the quantities given through the comparison of motion governed by the equivalence of hypotheses entail that the quantities in the phenomena of motion, ranging from rest to accelerated motion, are relative to each other. This relativity is usually taken by commentators to treat problems in Leibniz's relativity of space-time through the lens of Galilean invariance but in the context of the Specimen refer directly to questions of continuity. Here however Leibniz uses the equivalence of hypotheses in the Specimen to treat the imaginary nature of continuous motion. To clarify this, we start with how the quantities involved in motion can be taken as infinitesimal. Leibniz argues that infinitesimal quantities are taken to be infinitesimal relative to other quantities taken to be finite. In this, Leibniz aimed to make use of Galileo's position by improving on it. Concerning the problem of infinitesimal solicitations or nisus described through the use of dead force that we considered at the start of our investigation, Leibniz remarks that, "Et hoc est quod Galilaeus voluit, cum aenigmatica loquendi ratione percussionis vim infinitam dixit, scilicet si cum simplice gravitatis nisu comparetur." 51 Here Leibniz sees himself as improving on this "enigmatic" notion in Galileo by providing a more thorough-going interpretation of the comparison between nisus, understood as dead force, and the force of an extended motion, understood as living force. It is neither that dead force is infinitesimal and living force finite nor that dead force is finite and living force infinite. Seen through the lens of the equivalence of hypotheses, insofar as the immobility of dead force is only assumed in the equivalence of hypotheses, it is only a comparison of the effects of these causes qua force in extensional terms that these quantities (finite and infinite) arise. Of course, it is in the comparability of forces, according to the equipollence of cause and effect that requires such a distinction of between orders of infinite, finite and infinitesimal quantities. In this Leibniz obeys the "compendia ratiocinandi" that he had already formulated, through the development of his infinitesimal calculus for the relation between the finite and the infinite, and the finite and the infinitesimal. 52 Here, finite, infinite and infinitesimal are not absolute determinations but rather relative to each other. In Breger's recent explanation of this reasoning per compendia ratiocinandi, he explains that, "second-order differentials are infinitely small compared with first-order differentials [...] If first-order differentials have absorbed a logical quantifier, second-order differentials have absorbed two logical quantifiers." 53 For our purposes it is through the same kind of relativity of quantitative order that Leibniz takes up the problem of accurate measurements [accuratae aestimationes] in motion. It seems then that we have a satisfying solution here to how infinitesimals can remain fictional but must nonetheless be strictly and irreducibly involved in Leibniz's dynamics. Any quantity, infinite, finite or infinitesimal, is relative to each other and their measurements are only relative to the comparison of the effects of the causes of motion. This allows us to dissolve any problem regarding his use of infinitesimal quantities in the Specimen. From this we are in a position to understand just how such a commitment to the infinitesimal calculus becomes essential to his account of motion in the Specimen. Leibniz's infinitesimal calculus provides the capacity to treat continuity through non- 51 GM VI 238; AG 122. 52 Herbert Breger, "Leibniz's Calculation with Compendia" in Infinitesimal Differences, 185-198, 196. 53 Breger, "Leibniz's Calculation with Compendia", 194. 18 continuous terms. A major intuitive starting place for Leibniz's work on the infinitesimal calculus through the quadrature of the circle is the idea of treating a circle, fictionally, as an infinitely sided polygon. 54 This comparability, a notion cautiously borrowed from Galileo's discussion of the "Aristotelian wheel" on the first day of the Discourses and Mathematical Demonstrations Concerning the Two New Sciences, was already given its demonstrative limits in Leibniz's 1676 work on the quadrature. 55 In the same vein, Leibniz explains to Varignon in the same 1702 letter cited above, that this comparability does not mean that a circle is a polygon. Nonetheless Leibniz argues, « Et quoyque ces terminaisons soyent exclusives, c'est-à-dire non-comprises à la rigueur dans les varietés qu'elles bornent, neantmoins elles en ont les proprietiés, comme si elles y estoient comprises... qui prend le cercle, par exemple, pour un polygone regulier dont le nombre des costés est infini. Autrement la loy de la continuité seroit violée, c'est à dire puisqu'on passe des polygones au cercle, par un changement continuel et sans faire de saut, il faut aussi qu'il ne se fasse point de saut dans le passage des affections des polygones à celle du cercle. » 56 The law or principle of continuity is the larger architectonic principle governing the capacity of using discrete terms to treat continuity with falling into the error of taking continuity as discrete. In this, the use of discrete terms to treat the continuous always results in some degree of error. Yet as Leibniz famously relates to De Volder in a 1706 letter, this error nonetheless "semper sit minor quavis assignabili data". 57 This notion of comparability governed by the principle of continuity is directly salient to the problem of cause and effect in our examination of the dynamics. Recall that force is not a quantity such that we could locate within a motion. Force is something that is constantly active and systematically governs the entire range of quantities involved in a motion. As such, we have motion, something continuous and hence imaginary, and on the other hand, something that is measured (estimated) to the least error, the measure of force as equivalent to the quantity of effects (motion). This equipollence of cause and effect provide a mapping of effects to causes in a continuous way. It is obvious that if we hold the equipollence of cause and effect, the slightest change in effect implies a proportional change in cause. Since changes in motion, measured in terms of extension and time, are measured in continuous mathematical terms, they imply that the forces equipollent to these effects are also to be continuous. Yet the measurement of forces cannot be reduced to their particular effects and the continuity in particular motions does not directly result from the causal nature of forces. Hence, the continuity of a motion is not what is invoked here. A differential comparison of forces can only occur across different motions and thus the difference between forces at work in different motions can only be registered through a comparison of effects across different cases. To grasp this systematic organization of the continuous quantities of motion and their relation to non-continuous forces, we should momentarily step out of the Specimen to look at another important work within the dynamics project. In looking at this example, we not only reiterate Leibniz's commitment to the method of the infinitesimal calculus in the dynamics but clarify its necessary role in understanding what constitutes force as cause. VI. The principle of continuity and the structure of quantities 54 A VII 6, 527; Leibniz, Quadrature arithmétique du cercle, de l'ellipse et de l'hyperbole, 47. 55 "Libenter hanc contemplationem persecutus sum, quia specimen exhibet cautionis circa ratiocinia de infinito, et methodum indivisibilium, ostenditque non semper ex partium finitarum perpetuo abscissarum proprietate quadam ad totius infiniti spatii proprietatem posse prosiliri." A VII 6, 583; Leibniz, Quadrature arithmétique du cercle, de l'ellipse et de l'hyperbole, 176; Cf. Eberhard Knobloch, "Galileo and Leibniz: different approaches to infinity" in Archive of the History of the Exact Sciences 54 (1999): 87-99. 56 GM IV, 106; L 546. 57 GP II, 282-283; AG 186. 19 Up to this point, we have seen why the causal nature of force cannot be divorced from its quantitative aspect, its organization of the quantities registered through the comparison of the phenomena of motion. We have argued that this comparability of effects and the relative nature of quantity within the dynamics can be distinguished from the particular quantities used by Leibniz. In this, the particular way in which Leibniz used the infinitesimal calculus to describe, for example, dead and living force, thus also seems on par with other hypothetical uses of quantities. We have thus argued that the use of infinitesimal quantities in the dynamics are relative notions and employed fictionally in such a way that reflects the capacity of the infinitesimal calculus to compare discrete and continuous things. What we have yet to argue is the necessity of such a quantitative structure, despite the fictionality of such quantities themselves, within the dynamics. This necessity is important to clarify because the assumption of commentators like Rutherford is that since forces get reduced to metaphysics, any mathematics could heuristically play the role of representing motion. As such Rutherford, appealing to Levey, argues for the possibility of "modeling the structure of matter/force through some form of discrete mathematics." 58 To show the necessary role played by infinitesimals in the dynamics, we turn to an example that Leibniz only eludes to in Specimen but which constitutes a milestone within his development of the Dynamics project. This example is from Leibniz's 1692 Animadversiones in partem generalem Principiorum Cartesianorum, a lengthy study and close critical reading of Descartes' Principia philosophiae. 59 In his commentary on the 53 rd article of the 2 nd part of the Principia, Leibniz provides a refutation of Descartes' laws of motion, outlined in Descartes' 52 nd article according to a peculiar criterion. 60 Leibniz considers, as Descartes does, the situation of two bodies of equal mass and equal speeds striking each other as a case of rectilinear elastic collision. To demonstrate his difference with Descartes and show the latter's errors, he showed what happens when we reiterate this scenario with different velocity values assigned to the second body. 61 We can first imagine what will result from the collision of two bodies, b and c, with equal mass and opposing velocities (±4 m/s). From Descartes' first rule, the bodies, b (-4m/s) and c (+4m/s), will simply exchange velocities after collision, rebounding each other in a perfect elastic collision. But what happens when the speeds are different? Imagine then the body b as having the value of (-4m/s) as before and then a second body c as having the values of (3m/s). According to Descartes' analysis of such a scenario according to his third and seventh rule, the resulting velocities will be the same for both bodies since the more rapid body will carry the other off. The resulting velocities will result from first taking the half of the difference of the speeds and then subtracting the speed of the more rapid and adding to the speed of the less rapid. In such a case if b is traveling at velocity -4 (more rapid) and c traveling at velocity 3 (less rapid), then the half of the difference ((4-3)/2=)0.5 is the quantity that will be subtracted from the speed of b resulting in a final velocity of ((-4+0.5)=)-3.5. In turn, this same quantity will be added to the speed of body c and it will achieve a final velocity of ((-3-0.5)=)-3.5. For clarity's sake, we take another case where b is traveling at velocity -4 and c at -3, moving in the same direction, the more rapid body b will at some 58 Rutherford, "Leibniz on Infinitesimals and the Reality of Force", 272; Cf. Samuel Levey, "Leibniz on Mathematics and the Actual Infinite Division of Matter", The Philosophical Review, Vol. 107, No. 1 (Jan. 1998), 49-96. 59 GP IV 350-392. 60 GP IV 381-384. 61 My interpretation here is greatly helped and informed by Larry Jorgensen, "The Principle of Continuity and Leibniz's Theory of Consciousness", Journal of the History of Philosophy, Vol. 47, No. 2 (April 2009), pp. 223248, 230-232. 20 point also impact c and carry c off. The quantity in exchange between this different configuration would be ((4-3)/2)=)0.5 and this would result in the first body b having the resulting speed at (-4+(0.5)=)-3.5 and the body c moving at (-3-(0.5)=)-3.5. The resulting velocity will, like the previous example, be -3.5 for both bodies. Leibniz understood as we do, retrospectively, that Descartes' rules are contrary to phenomena. Using the results of Huygen's theory of elastic collision, Leibniz argues that bodies of equal mass will simply exchange their velocities after collision regardless of their differences in speed. But here Leibniz deploys a kind of reductio ad absurdum argument. Leibniz argues by first demonstrating the Cartesian laws of motion. Assuming both elastic collision and that the velocity of body b remains constant at -4, we reiterate the collisions by varying the speed of body c. As such, c will take on the values of -4, -3, -1, 0, 1, etc. We first note that when both bodies are initially traveling at -4, there is no collision. We note that in the case of body b at -4 and body c at 0, Descartes holds that the bodies rebound and this collision is not governed by the same law as that of the collision of a faster and slower body since one body is at rest. Figure 3 62 As shown in the graph above, Leibniz argues that Descartes' laws of collision leads to significant gaps especially around the case of the body c at rest and around the case of the equal speed of b and c. Indeed, we know that the major error of Descartes that Leibniz wished to point out was the former's hypothesis that a faster body, regardless of how small this additional speed was, could carry the other body off and that the two bodies would then travel at half the difference of their quantity. This is the reason for the major gap in the correlation of the variation of the initial velocities of c (since the initial velocity of b remains constant throughout the cases) with the final velocity of b after collision. In Leibniz's alternative to Descartes, employing Huygens' laws of elastic collision, bodies of equal mass simply exchange velocities after collision. As such, if the initial velocity of b is -4 and c is 3, the final velocity after collision would result in b traveling at 3 and c at 4. The resulting graph, using the same reiteration of cases as above, charts out a continuous line. Every variation in the initial velocity of c produces the same value for the final velocity of b. 62 The table and graph above are reconstructions of the Leibniz's argument and figure in this section. GP IV 382. -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 -6 -4 -2 0 2 4 6 Fi n al v e lo ci ty o f b o d y b Initial velocity of body c 21 Figure 4 63 The results here are also more apt than Descartes' in the description of phenomena. Yet this empirical inadequacy is not what Leibniz emphasizes here. Leibniz argues instead that the graph of Descartes' laws of collision presents a delineatio monstrosa while the graph of his position presents a delineatio concinna. 64 This argument has the sort of teleological import consonant with his argument concerning dioptrics and catoptrics. Leibniz treats the "monstrous" character of the plotting of Descartes' result as a sort of demonstratio ad absurdum. In turn Leibniz's continuous graph is more harmonious than Descartes' monstrous one. We might perhaps call this a demonstratio ad monstrosum. There were a few explicit conclusions that Leibniz wished to draw from this demonstration. Two of these points, the inadequacy of Descartes' collision principles to phenomena and that corporeal collision show bodies to be more solid than liquid are explicitly emphasized by Leibniz after this criticism of Descartes. But both of these points could be argued without this demonstratio ad monstrosum. It was simply sufficient to demonstrate the inadequacy of Descartes' law of motion from its inaccurate empirical predictions in order to move toward the different measurements concerning the solidity bodies and elasticity of collision. In adding this layer of explanation involving the comparison between the Descartes' laws and his Huygenian alternative, Leibniz wished to make a different epistemological point. There is a higher principle that governs the quantities manifested at the level of motion. The architectonic principle of continuity is represented in his more "continuous" graph than the leaps exhibited in Descartes' graph. But this is not the usual sense of continuity. When the problem of "saltus" in nature is raised in works like Pacidius Philalethi, it concerns the question of leaps in a particular extended motion. 65 Yet here we encounter continuity in the sense of a distribution, one that is perhaps more consonant with the generation of animal species evoked in the New Essays on Human Understanding than, say, the path of a certain extended motion. 66 Indeed, natura non saltum facit. A full account of the principle of continuity at work in this example will take us far afield but we should underline how this example reveals Leibniz's mature thinking about the essential role of continuity in physical phenomena. The principle of continuity is argued as an architectonic principle operative in taking a whole 63 Like the table and graph above, this is my reconstruction of the figure in this section. GP IV 382. 64 GP IV 382-383. 65 A VI 3, 560; LC 196-197 66 A VI 6, 473. -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 -6 -4 -2 0 2 4 6 Fi n al v e lo ci ty o f b o d y b Initial velocity of body c 22 series of quantities that reveal the systematically ordering of phenomena. The variation of the values of body c in the example is the means by which this continuity can be systematically represented. In turn, discontinuity registered on the level of quantities constitutes then, for Leibniz, an error. The nature of this error is first argued on the level of principles and then only subsequently a misrepresentation of phenomena in the usual sense. As such, the principle of continuity is at work in the demonstration of what constitutes a coherent phenomenon by taking continuity as the means by which to determine the cause of an entire range of the quantities distributed in motion. This use of the principle of continuity is part and parcel of the principle of equipollence of cause and effect. Causality is here understood in the same way as we have analyzed above. Cause is understood through the organization and comparability of a range of quantities in motion and not simply as efficient causality understood as the relation of moments within a motion. However continuity allows us to understand how the equipollence operates quantitatively. Any variation of the quantity of body c is continuously correlated with the variation of the quantity of body b after collision. Continuity hence provides the means to render effects, that is, motions, comparable precisely by creating the framework where the distributed quantities reflect this equipollence of cause and effect. At the same time, this same principle of continuity is also part and parcel with the principle of the equivalence of hypotheses in the narrow sense invoked above. It is continuity that allows us to relativize the set of quantities involved in motion. All the quantities in the example above can be modified without changing the result: the final graph demonstrating the Leibnizian result would still be a continuous line albeit with a different slope. This example of how Leibniz employs quantities in his dynamics reaffirms their fictional status. Quantitative aspects of motion are only relative to each other and our interest in them, for the purposes of the dynamics, is aimed at demonstrating, through their comparison, the principles of the ordering of these quantities. Continuity then is a principle responsible for the organization of phenomenon. When continuity of the phenomenon is demonstrated to be lacking, as in the case of his refutation of Descartes, something of a reductio ad monstrosum is revealed. As such, the principle of continuity applies regardless of the particular quantities measured or estimated, it provides, like the principle of the equipollence of cause and effect and the principle of the equivalence of hypotheses, the general architectonic principles of the dynamics. This example demonstrates not only that the relation between cause and effect in motion relies on the comparability of the quantities registered as effects but that this comparability or this role played by force qua cause in the ordering of motion qua effects, is governed by the principle of continuity. The concept of continuity at work here casts a different light on why infinitesimals are used in the Specimen. We have already established that the infinitesimal, finite and infinite quantities involved in motion are not to be taken per se but are relative to each other. By examining the principle of continuity, we demonstrate why the use of these orders of quantities is necessary in his dynamics. The ordering and hence comparability of quantities in motion imply continuity and with this Leibniz needs to draw from the resources of his infinitesimal calculus. This of course does not imply the hypostasization of these fictional quantities any more than it implies the hypostasization of any quantity whatsoever. This use of quantity, finite, infinite or infinitesimal remains within the realm of the comparison of the motive effects of force. Yet what remains is that this feature of continuity is a part of the organization of quantities and hence an irreducible causal feature of the relation between force and its effects. Although it is easy for Leibniz to step back from his use of infinite and infinitesimal quantities by the addition of a caveat of their fictionality, the reason why these sorts of quantities are part and parcel to the account in the dynamics is not reducible to their 23 fictionality. In order to understand how force causes motion, this compatibility of forces through phenomena, or the quantities of motion, relies on the continuity of these quantities. That is, the ordering of quantities such that they form a coherent motion requires the principle of continuity. Logically then insofar as the causal nature of force is the ordering of phenomenon and this ordering requires the principle of continuity, we must conclude that the principle of continuity is an irreducible feature of what constitutes force as cause. Hence although particular quantities can be abstracted from the account of force, the causal nature of force necessitates their quantitative expression through architectonic principles like the principle of continuity along with the principle of equipollence of cause and effect and the principle of the equivalence of hypotheses. This necessity follows structurally from what it means for force to be causal, the structural determination of the relation of quantities even when particular quantities are abstracted away. This argument leads us to assert that the necessity of the methods of the infinitesimal calculus in the dynamics as a necessary feature of the architectonic principles that governs it. What is implied here is nonetheless that the particular uses of infinitesimal, finite and infinite terms in measurement refer to fictional entities. Yet, just as particular quantities such as mv 2 can be set aside or rejected without rejecting the idea that some quantity is conserved in motion to preserve the comparability between the relative quantities in motion, we can maintain that specific infinitesimal quantities can be set aside or rejected without rejecting the infinitesimal structure necessary for understanding how forces cause motion. This is a consequence of understanding that the way in which forces cause motions is indirect in the sense that forces are not themselves quantitative. Forces cause motion through a number of principles which allow them to be comparable through their quantitative effects in motion. There is thus something irreducibly quantitative about forces. Insofar as the causal nature of force is to be found in the ordering of the phenomena of motion, this very ordering is essentially structured through the mathematics of continuity opened up by the infinitesimal calculus that Leibniz had developed years before. VII. Conclusion What our argument above does not contest is the rejection that forces can be directly correlated with quantities of either the infinitesimal, finite or infinite sort. In this, not only do we reaffirm this partial agreement with commentators like Rutherford, but give additional reasons for this fundamental agreement. Yet our argument here also shows that this rejection of real infinitesimal quantities must also entail the rejection of a mere reduction of forces to a metaphysical level. Although Leibniz used forces to articulate his ideas about hylomorphic substance in an explicit and central way throughout the 1690's, the very notion was developed to provide a causal explanation for the realm of physical phenomenon. This very causal nature of force is one that provides consistency and order to physical phenomena. Although counter-intuitive in certain respects, the causal nature of force engenders its effects systematically through the harmony, or convergence, of teleological and efficient causation. As we have shown, the way in which non-geometric or non-extended forces could cause geometric and extended motions can only be understood in this way. That is, dynamical causation is structural. Forces cause motions structurally and indirectly by the organization of their extended, geometrical and quantitative features. As such the crucial disagreement with commentators like Rutherford is in our divergent understanding of the relation between quantity and force. Rutherford argues, as I have noted above, that if forces cannot be represented by a quantity then these forces must be reduced radically to the metaphysical level. This is due to the understanding that since forces 24 are real and motions (qua geometrical) imaginary, a separation must be made in order that, unlike the Cartesian position, forces are not allowed to slip into the geometrical realm. Of course Rutherford's position also entails that since forces are not essentially tied to the quantities of motion, understood as mere imagination, alternative ways of representing these quantities such as with the exclusive use of discrete entities can also be plausible. We have argued that there is another way to understand the role of quantity in Leibniz's treatment of forces. Although Leibniz appears to correlate infinitesimal quantities with moments of (dead) force in the Specimen, if we understand that these measurements, as Leibniz calls them, are only the results of an interpretation of quantities made structurally or systematically, we find that quantities play an actual and not merely imaginary role in articulating the causal nature of force. As such forces are not themselves quantitative but play the crucial role of providing the structure of these very quantitative features. When all imagination qua quantities are abstracted away, we see that systematic or architectonic features of the relation of force qua cause and motion qua effect entail explicit architectonic principles, like the principle of continuity, through which this causation occurs. In short, Leibniz presents another way of understanding the role of quantity. With the emergence of the concept of force, something that kept Leibniz busy for two long decades, the conceptualization of the geometrical features of motion supersede the merely imaginary mechanistic picture. What arises is the use of quantities in expressing just how causality is to be identified and harmonically synthesized through architectonic principles. The post-Galilean project of mathematizing nature would have been futile if the aim was merely to make a mere correspondence between mathematics and nature. In this, Leibniz was not the only one in his time to understand that any account of physical motion cannot succeed without being mediated by theory-laden interpretations of how the extensional features are to be made comparable. Leibniz's own solution, one that still conservatively wished to place quasi-Aristotelian causality as the terms through which such an interpretation can be given, nonetheless required a deep commitment to the structure afforded by the mathematical innovations of his infinitesimal calculus. This means, above all, that insofar as there is no direct correspondence between quantities and their underlying real causes, empirical measurements in terms of size, shape and magnitude are relevant in the account of phenomena only through a higher level of theoretization that renders these quantities systematically coherent. As such, when Leibniz measures dead force with an infinitesimal quantity, we should not take this as a correspondence between real forces and imaginary quantities. In this regard even the idea of force as being representable by quantity, infinitesimal or finite, is misleading. Yet forces are however irreducibly quantitative and this quantitative aspect requires a deep commitment to the notion of continuity made available through the infinitesimal calculus. In short, at least for Leibniz, force without its quantitative aspect is empty and quantity without its causal organization is blind. Fictions are thus not blind in the Specimen but work precisely because they are guided by the concept of force.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
BRENTANO'S CONCEPT OF MIND Underlying Nature, Reference--‐Fixing, and the Mark of the Mental Uriah Kriegel Forthcoming in S. Lapointe and C. Pincock (eds.), Innovations in the History of Analytical Philosophy (Palgrave) Introduction/Abstract Perhaps the philosophical thesis most commonly associated with Brentano is that intentionality is the mark of the mental. But in fact Brentano often and centrally uses also what he calls 'inner perception' to demarcate the mental. In this chapter, I offer a new interpretation of Brentano's conception of the interrelations among mentality, intentionality, and inner perception. According to this interpretation, Brentano took the concept of mind to be a natural--‐kind concept, with intentionality constituting the underlying nature of the mental and inner--‐perceivability serving as the concept's reference--‐fixer. 1. Intentionality as the Mark of the Mental: Problems with the Orthodox Interpretation Brentano's (1874) Psychology from an Empirical Standpoint is an attempt to provide systematic conceptual and methodological foundations for the scientific study of mind. The first order of business for such an exercise is to offer a sound and principled demarcation of the relevant domain of phenomena. Brentano addresses this task in the first chapter of Book II of the Psychology. 2 It is commonly said that Brentano demarcated the mental domain by appeal to the phenomenon of intentionality, an event's or state's directedness toward something other than itself.1 Intentionality is thus the 'mark of the mental.' The thesis can be stated as follows: (M3) All and only mental phenomena are intentional phenomena. If this is true, then indeed we have a workable way of separating mental from nonmental phenomena. There are two problems with this interpretation, however. The first and most obvious is that in the chapter of the Psychology dedicated to the demarcation issue, Brentano endorses no fewer than six ways of drawing the mental/physical distinction. Intentionality is only one of them – the third he considers. In what sense, then, is intentionality the mark (rather than just a mark) of the mental? The others include: (M1) All and only mental phenomena are either presentations or based on presentations.2 (M2) All and only mental phenomena are not spatially extended.3 (M4) All and only mental phenomena are objects of inner perception.4 (M4')All and only mental phenomena are objects of perception in the success sense of the term (Wahrnehmung).5 (M5) All and only mental phenomena are not only phenomenally but also noumenally real (they are not only appearances but also realities).6 (M6) All and only mental phenomena necessarily appear to us as unities.7 I will discuss some of these more fully in §3. For now, what is important to note is that intentionality is neither the first nor the last of the marks discussed by Brentano, and he does not discuss it at any special length.8 At the same time, in summarizing the discussion toward the end of the chapter, Brentano does write that 'The feature/characteristic/mark (Merkmal) which best characterizes (meisten kennzeichnet) mental phenomena is undoubtedly 3 their intentional inexistence' (1874: 98 [I, 137]; my emphasis). Unfortunately, he says nothing about what makes it best, and in what sense. The second problem with the orthodox interpretation comes from the very opening chapter of the Psychology. This chapter has two goals: to fix on the topic of investigation and to explain why it is important to investigate. Interestingly, the first of these goals effectively involves a kind of initial demarcation of the subject matter, insofar as it requires a basic conception of what is being talked about. The problem is that nowhere in this chapter is intentionality mentioned, and instead one of the other marks later discussed, the inner--‐perceivability cited in M4, is operative. The same happens in Brentano's presentation of his subject matter in Descriptive Psychology (based on lectures from circa 1890), whose very first sentence reads: 'Psychology is the science of people's inner life, that is, the part of life which is captured in inner perception' (1982: 3 [1]). The recurrence of inner perception as a mark of the mental both at the outset of inquiry and in the context of the more systematic search for a principled demarcation makes inner perception stand out among Brentano's six marks. If any of these six should be referred to as the mark of the mental should it not be inner--‐perceivability? All this leaves us with a cluster of question marks. What does Brentano mean in saying that intentionality is the best of his proposed marks of the mental? If a mark thesis does the job of getting right the extension of the mental, what else can we expect from it? What other dimensions are we supposed to evaluate it along (and why)? Whatever further dimensions of evaluation there are, does intentionality really fare better along them than inner--‐perceivability? If it does, why is inner--‐ perceivability appealed to at the outset of inquiry? More generally, what makes inner--‐perceivability uniquely fit to define the subject matter at the outset? And why does it not retain its special status, but cedes it to intentionality, when the issue of demarcation becomes central (is 'thematized')? What in general is the relation between intentionality and inner--‐perceivability in Brentano's picture of the nature of mind? Are we sure Brentano has a stable view of all this? 4 My goal in this chapter is to present an interpretation of Brentano's view that answers these questions. I will try to show that Brentano's view is not only stable but also quite plausible. In §2, I lay out my interpretation without argument. In §§3--‐ 4, I make a case for the interpretation's assignment of theoretical roles to intentionality and inner--‐perceivability (respectively). 2. The Concept of Mind: Reference--Fixing and Underlying Nature The tension between intentionality and inner--‐perceivability as potential signatures of the mental is arguably a manifestation of a deeper tension that is something of a recurring theme in the philosophy of mind. This is the tension between metaphysical and epistemological ways of conceiving of the mental domain. There are good reasons to adopt each of these approaches. Traditional metaphysics has tended to work with a conceptual division between three putative ontological spheres: physical, mental, and abstract.9 But it has often been suspected that what underlies this tripartite division are in truth three different ways of knowing (or acquiring knowledge of) the world: perception, introspection, and reason. Perception is our way of coming to know (or at least establish epistemic contact with) the domain of physical phenomena; introspection is our way of coming to know mental phenomena; and reason is our way of coming to know the realm of abstracta.10 It is not implausible that the way we get our initial handle on the mental as an independent domain of phenomena is by noting that there are certain phenomena of which we have a distinctive kind of knowledge – introspective knowledge. We may later countenance non--‐introspectible mental states, but originally what anchors our conception of the mental is something like introspective encounter with certain phenomena. At the same time, it is natural to expect there to be metaphysical homogeneity among the phenomena themselves – something in their nature that makes them belong together. The category of the mental is plausibly a natural kind. 5 If so, there should be some feature common and peculiar to mental phenomena regardless of how we come to know them – something intrinsic to them that is distinctive of them and shared by all of them. I contend that the tension between the epistemological and metaphysical ways of homing in on the mental is close to the surface in Brentano's text. On the one hand, he is tempted by the notion that we get our initial handle on the mental epistemologically, through the notion that all and only mental phenomena are objects of inner perception. On the other hand, he finds intentionality to be a deep feature common and peculiar to mental phenomena regardless of our knowledge of them. I suggest that we can do justice to all these interpretive pressures by supposing that Brentano had something like the following picture in mind. Mental phenomena form a natural kind or 'real category.' Accordingly, the concept of mentality is a natural--‐kind concept. As such, we have to distinguish two aspects of its semantic character: a reference and a reference--‐fixing description (Kripke 1972). The reference is constituted by an underlying nature of the mental, which need not be transparent to us at the beginning of inquiry. By contrast, the reference--‐fixer is given by some description which gives us a pre--‐theoretic handle on what we aim to speak of, hence is transparent from the outset of inquiry. Although Brentano does not explicitly articulate this kind of broadly Kripkean framework, as we will see what he does say can be stabilized – brought into reflective equilibrium – by ascribing to him something like it. On this view, the concept MIND, or MENTAL, works on the same model as other natural--‐kind concepts, such as WATER and HORSE. On the one hand, WATER refers to H2O, the underlying nature common and peculiar to bodies of water. This means that anything composed of H2O molecules falls in the extension of WATER. On the other hand, the way we get our initial handle on what we are talking about is through a reference--‐fixing description such as 'the clear and drinkable liquid of our (perceptual) acquaintance.' The way the concept gets its reference is through this 6 reference--‐fixer: some stuff satisfies the description 'the clear drinkable...,' and since the underlying nature of that description--‐satisfying stuff is H2O, the concept's reference is H2O. In other words, the concept of water is the concept of stuff that has the same underlying nature as the clear drinkable liquid of our perceptual acquaintance. Likewise, the reference of HORSE is given by anything with equine DNA (say) and is fixed by some such description as 'the tall rideable mammal of our perceptual acquaintance.' Some items in the world satisfy that description, and since their underlying nature is the equine DNA, anything with that DNA falls in the extension of HORSE. To that extent, the concept of horse is the concept of something that has the same underlying nature as the tall rideable mammals of our perceptual acquaintance. For the concept MIND to work in the same way, there would have to be a reference--‐fixer and an underlying nature associated with it. The Brentanian thought, as I understand it, is that the underlying nature of mentality is intentionality, while the reference--‐fixing description is something like 'the phenomena of our inner--‐ perceptual acquaintance.' (The description is so general because the concept is. The same level of generality would attach to the concept PHYSICAL, where the reference--‐ fixing description would be something like 'the phenomena of our outer--‐perceptual acquaintance.') Thus some phenomena we encounter through inner perception, and the underlying nature of these phenomena happens to be their intentionality. Anything that exhibits intentionality therefore falls in the extension of MENTAL, even though initially our grasp of the category is anchored in inner perception. To that extent, the concept of the mental is the concept of something that has the same underlying nature as the phenomena of our inner--‐perceptual acquaintance. To make the case for this interpretation of Brentano, I start (§3) with textual evidence for the idea that Brentano takes the concept of the mental to be something like a natural--‐kind concept, and takes intentionality to be something like the underlying nature of that kind. I then (§4) turn to explain what Brentano means by 'inner perception' and show that he takes it to play the reference--‐fixing role. 7 3. Intentionality as the Underlying Nature of Mentality There is no question that Brentano believes in natural kinds, or categories, with essential natures. At several junctures in the Psychology, he warns against entanglement in terminological disputes and reminds the reader that the goal is to discern the natural joints in the domain of phenomena under consideration: Disputes about what concept a term applies to are not always useless quarrels over words. Sometimes it is a question of establishing the conventional meaning of a word, from which it is always dangerous to deviate. Frequently, however, the problem is to discover the natural (naturgemässe) boundaries of a homogeneous class. (1874: 101 [I, 141]) In other words, there are two valuable types of exercise in this area. One is to collectively stipulate the meaning of a term, through convention, to smooth the conduct of inquiry. The other is to detect 'natural' relations of similarity and dissimilarity among the phenomena investigated and attach a term to the concept that picks them out. The picture is of a world of items or phenomena some of which naturally belong with others and not with yet others. It is clear that Brentano thinks of this 'belonging together' as in the nature of things, in the sense of being objective and observer--‐independent: ... scientific study must have classification and order, and these may not be arbitrary. They ought, as far as possible, to be natural (natürlich), and they are natural when they correspond to a classification of their subject--‐matter which is as natural (natürlichen) as possible. (1874: 177 [II, 1]) Similarity and dissimilarity relations hold independently of our classificatory activities, and the goal of those activities is to capture these relations (Compare Sider 2011). Presumably, when some items belong together, this is because there is a feature common and peculiar to them – a kind of 'natural unifier' they share that marks them off from the rest of reality. We may say that for Brentano such items make up a natural kind, and the feature in virtue of which they do is their (or the 8 kind's) underlying nature. What I want to suggest is that for Brentano, mentality is a natural kind and intentionality is its underlying nature. To say that Brentano takes MENTAL to be a natural--‐kind concept is not to say that he associated with it all the features Kripke associated with natural--‐kind concepts. Brentano says nothing suggesting that the concept is a rigid designator, for example. But what I want to claim is that he does take the concept to pick out a category of phenomena that are naturally unified, and in ways that need not be accessible from the armchair. That is, it picks out a natural category with a hidden essence. 3.1. Marks of the Mental and the Classification of Mental Phenomena As noted, Brentano identified several potential marks of the mental, though he also declared the third – intentionality – 'most characteristic' of the mental. What makes it better than others? One thing that makes it better than some other candidates is straightforward: it is non--‐disjunctive and positive. The first mark Brentano considers, M1, is that of being either a presentation or based on a presentation. Brentano is dissatisfied with it because it is disjunctive: 'This... is not completely unified because it separates mental phenomena into two groups' (1874: 85 [I, 120]). (One might frame M1 in a less overtly disjunctive manner, say as the thesis that all and only mental states involve a presentation component; but presumably Brentano would retort that this does not unify the phenomena themselves, only their description.) The second mark, M2, is that all and only mental states lack spatial extension. Brentano is dissatisfied with this one chiefly because it is negative (and also because it is controversial, sociologically speaking): ... another definition common to all mental phenomena is still desirable. Whether certain mental and physical phenomena appear extended or not, the controversy proves that the criterion given for a clearer separation is not adequate. Furthermore, this criterion is only a negative definition of mental phenomena. (1874: 87--‐8 [I, 124]) 9 This leads him to intentionality, which is satisfyingly positive and non--‐disjunctive. Still, the following three marks he discusses – inner--‐perceivability, noumenal reality, and special unity – are neither disjunctive nor negative. What makes intentionality nonetheless the deeper mark of the mental? The answer to this, I contend, is effectively provided by the last chapters of Psychology II. The task of Chapters 5--‐8 is to provide an accurate classification of mental phenomena into 'fundamental classes.' The idea is that the mental domain is structured by genus/species relations, with mentality per se being the highest mental genus. This genus divides into some species, which divide in turn into sub--‐ species, which divide into sub--‐sub--‐species, and so on. For Brentano, these genus/species relations are objective and observer--‐independent, so the task is to discover rather than invent them. Now, Brentano calls the second--‐to--‐highest mental genera (the immediate species of mentality) the 'fundamental classes' of mentality. His task in these chapters is thus to identify the second layer of mental genera. Crucially, the division or 'speciation' he ends up with appeals to intentionality, and does not appeal to inner--‐perceivability, noumenal reality, or special unity. As we will see momentarily, his different fundamental species of mentality differ in exhibiting different species of intentionality. We may therefore surmise that, for Brentano, intentionality is 'deeper' than other positive and non--‐disjunctive marks of the mental in providing not only a demarcation of the domain but also the domain's principle of speciation. One fundamental class of mentality is what Brentano calls judgment. It covers any mental state concerned with what is the case, what is true, what exists, what obtains: 'By "judgment" we mean, in accordance with common philosophical usage, acceptance (as true) or rejection (as false)' (1874: 198 [II, 34]). The paradigmatic case here is belief, but the genus also includes perception, since perception presents what it does as obtaining or real: 'all perceptions are judgments, whether they are instances of knowledge of just mistaken affirmations' (1874: 209 [II, 50]). A visual perception of a laptop on a desk is committed, so to speak, to the laptop really being on the desk – to it being the case that there is a laptop on a desk. (We can call this 10 kind of commitment 'doxastic commitment.') The distinguishing characteristic of states in this class – states of judgment – is that their 'formal object' is the true; their 'mode of intentionality,' as Brentano puts it, is directedness at the true. This contrasts with states of the second fundamental class of mentality, which Brentano calls 'interest' or 'phenomena of love and hate.' These are states whose formal object is the good rather than the true: If something can become the content of a judgment in that it can be accepted as true or rejected as false, it can also become the object of a phenomenon belonging to this [second] basic class, in that it can be agreeable (genehm) (in the broadest sense of the word) as something good, or disagreeable (ungenehm) as something bad. Here we are concerned with the object's value or lack thereof, whereas in the other case we were concerned with its truth or falsity. (1874: 239 [II, 88--‐9]) This class, too, covers a large group of phenomena, including emotion, affect, the will, and pain/pleasure. For this reason, Brentano has no satisfactory name for this class, and calls it alternately interest, emotion, or (often) 'phenomena of love and hate.' What unifies the phenomena in this category is the fact that they present what they do as good or bad. They present not what is the case but what should be the case, not what obtains but what ought to obtain. Wanting a beer presents beer as good, but so does taking pleasure in the beer, wishing for beer, liking beer, deciding on beer, and so on. All these states are committed, in different ways, to the goodness of beer.11 (We can call this 'axiological commitment.') Brentano's third fundamental class is what he calls 'presentation' (Vorstellung). This is supposed to be an intentional state that in itself presents what it does neither as true nor as good, but in an entirely neutral, doxastically and axiologically noncommittal manner. In that respect, the most general characterization of presentation is this: 'We speak of a presentation whenever something appears (erscheint) to us' (Brentano 1874: 198 [II, 34]). Paradigmatic examples include imagery, as when one visualizes a smiling octopus, and states of entertaining or contemplating a proposition, such as that the hard problem of consciousness will be solved in the present millennium. Such states are in 11 themselves 'intentionally neutral' precisely in presenting what they do neither as true nor as good.12 Brentano's classification divides mental phenomena, then, according to their 'mode of intentionality,' the manner in which they present their objects. This intentional classification of mental phenomena is so important to Brentano as to override what has been a central line of distinction in psychological classification since Aristotle, namely, the line between sensory/lower states and intellectual/higher states. Traditionally, the line between sensory perception and conceptual thought has been absolutely fundamental, as has been that between algedonic sensations (pain and pleasure) and more articulated exercises of the will (intention, aspiration, and so forth). Brentano recognizes this distinction, of course, but takes it to be less fundamental than the judgment--‐interest--‐presentation distinction. The reason for this, it would appear, is that he takes intentionality to generate the most fundamental speciation of the mental, and on his view the sensory and the intellectual are intentionally alike insofar as they share a formal object. My contention is that this crucial role of intentionality in capturing the objective structure of the mental domain is what makes it a 'deeper' mark of the mental than inner--‐perceivability, noumenal reality, and special unity. It is what makes it not only a natural unifier of the mental domain but something like the underlying nature of mentality. It is a general feature of essential properties of a genus that they are not only coextensive with the genus but also provide its principle of speciation. All and only birds are feathered bipeds, but different species of birds are not distinguished by their different feathers. Meanwhile, all and only birds have avian DNA, and different species of birds are distinguished by their DNA, which is why avian DNA is a plausible candidate for an underlying nature of bird--‐ ness. 12 Brentano seems to recognize the basic connection between intentionality's 'depth' as demarcation of the mental domain and its role in providing the domain's principle of speciation. It is all but explicit in the following passage: Nothing distinguishes mental phenomena from physical phenomena more than the fact that something is immanent [read: intentionally inexistent] as an object in them. For this reason (darum) it is easy to understand that the fundamental differences in the way something [in]exists in them as an object constitute the principal class differences among mental phenomena. (1874: 197 [II, 32]) I conclude that it is plausible to ascribe to Brentano the view that intentionality is the underlying nature of mentality – even though there are five other features equally extensionally adequate for demarcating the mental. 3.2. Objections and Replies It might be objected that intentionality cannot be described, in Brentano's system, as anything like a Kripkean underlying nature, because it is a 'surface feature' rather than a 'hidden essence.' After all, for Brentano both intentionality itself and the differences among the three fundamental species of it are available to ordinary (inner) perception. In that respect, it is very different from such underlying natures as H2O and equine DNA. In response, it should be conceded that some disanalogies with paradigmatic Kripkean hidden essences exist here. At the same time, there are also real similarities. Crucially, for Brentano one cannot establish a priori – 'from the armchair' – what the principle of speciation of the mental is, hence what its deepest mark is. As in the case of water and horses, empirical inquiry is needed: A scientific classification... must be natural, that is to say, it must unite into a single class objects closely related by nature, and it must separate into different classes objects which are relatively distant by nature. Thus classification is only possible when there is a certain amount of knowledge of the objects to be classified, and it is the fundamental rule of classification that it should proceed from a study of the objects to be classified and not from a priori construction. (1874: 194 [II, 28]) 13 This is certainly a symptom of an essence being 'hidden' – that one cannot establish its essentiality from the armchair.13 Another objection might be that there is a simpler explanation of what makes intentionality best among Brentano's marks of the mental. This is that all other marks appeal to overtly mental notions, such as presentation, perception, and appearance. They therefore cannot be used to reveal the essence of the mental in nonmental terms. By contrast, intentionality is not by definition a mental notion, and yet it proves perfectly coextensive with the mental. My response is threefold. First, it is noteworthy that at no place does Brentano himself complain about the other marks that they presuppose mental notions. By contrast, as we just saw he does explicitly stress the connection between intentionality's special status and its role in speciating the mental. Secondly, it is not clear that all other marks presuppose mental notions. Certainly the second (nonspatiality) does not, and the fifth (noumenal reality) seems innocent as well. Thirdly, even if the intentional mark were special only because it did not presuppose mental notions, this would not necessarily undermine its status as an underlying nature of the mental. As the only feature both not ostensibly mental and coextensive with mentality, it might still serve as an underlying nature of the mental. A completely different kind of concern might be that Brentano's view, as described here, is too implausible to be of interest. What makes it so implausible is that intentionality is both too broad and too narrow to demarcate mentality. It is too broad insofar as linguistic expressions, paintings, and traffic signs are all intentional yet nonmental. It is too narrow insofar as algedonic sensations and moods are mental but not intentional. Brentano does address the narrowness worry, at least insofar as algedonic sensations are concerned. He argues that pain and pleasure experiences present sui generis secondary qualities, that is, secondary qualities distinct from color, sound, and the like perceptible properties. He writes: 14 [When we] say that our foot or our hand hurts, that there is pain (es schmerze) in this or that part of the body ... there is in us not only the idea of a definite spatial location but also a particular sensory quality analogous to color, sound, and other so--‐called sensory qualities, which is a physical phenomenon and which must be clearly distinguished from the accompanying feeling. (Brentano 1874: 83 [I, 116]) For some perceptual modalities, ordinary language generously provides two terms, one naturally applicable to the experience and one to its object. Taste is a property of gustatory experiences, flavor a property of gustatory objects; smell is a property of olfactory experiences, odor a property of olfactory objects; and so on. Unfortunately, 'pleasure' and 'pain' are ambiguously applicable to both experience and object, and this is what misleads us into non--‐intentional thinking in this case.14 Brentano does not address the breadth worry. To my knowledge, he nowhere discusses the fact – hard to deny – that words and paintings can be directed toward objects other than themselves, even in the absence of the target objects (thus exhibiting intentional inexistence). It is reasonable to surmise, however, that he supposes they do so only by courtesy of certain mental states. The idea, familiar from modern philosophy of language, is that words and paintings have merely derivative intentionality, which they inherit from mental states.15 In this they have an intentionality crucially different from (and so to speak inferior to) mental states. Regardless, we may say that in the Brentanian picture of mentality, uninherited, nonderivative intentionality is the underlying nature of the mental. This formulation of the thesis no longer faces an immediate narrowness worry. 4. Inner--Perceivability as Reference--Fixer If intentionality is the underlying nature of the mental, what is the role of inner--‐ perceivability in the concept of mind? The goal of this section is to argue that Brentano assigns something like a reference--‐fixing role to inner--‐perceivability, or more accurately to inner--‐perceived--‐ness. After elucidating Brentano's notion of inner perception and considering his case for taking it to be a central mark of the 15 mental (§4.1), I develop some Brentanian ideas that suggest the reference--‐fixing role (§4.2). 4.1. Inner Perception as a Mark of the Mental To the modern reader, it might seem that what Brentano calls inner perception is just what we today call introspection. But in fact Brentano explicitly distinguishes inner perception (Wahrnehmung) and introspection, which he identifies with 'inner observation' (Beobachtung). This is important, because for Brentano inner perception is the cornerstone of psychological inquiry whereas appeal to introspection is illegitimate. To appreciate the difference between the two, consider Brentano's argument against the legitimacy of appeal to introspection: ...inner perception and not introspection, i.e. inner observation, constitutes [the] primary source of psychology.... In observation, we direct our full attention to a phenomenon in order to apprehend it accurately. But with objects of inner perception this is absolutely impossible. This is especially clear with regard to certain mental phenomena such as anger. If someone is in a state in which he wants to observe his own anger raging within him, the anger must already be somewhat diminished, and so his original object of observation would have disappeared. (1874: 29--‐30 [I, 40--‐1]) It is a central aspect of the phenomenology of anger that one is consumed by one's anger. If the subject has the presence of mind to attend to her anger, to reflect on it, she is no longer consumed by it. She has managed to 'take some distance' from it. Thus in trying introspecting one's experience, one actually exits the state one wished to introspect. It is not my concern here to evaluate this argument; rather, I want to use it to clarify Brentano's notion of inner perception. What creates the problem for inner observation (introspection), according to the argument, is its attentive nature. It is part of the very notion of introspection, for Brentano, that the exercise of introspection involves the control and guidance of attention. ('In observation, we 16 direct our full attention to a phenomenon in order to apprehend it accurately.') The problem is that attending to a conscious experience alters its intensity (if nothing else). The attentiveness of introspection implies further properties, such as voluntariness. Normally, we can decide to introspect, and equally, we can decide not to introspect, or to stop introspecting. By and large, attending, and hence introspecting, are up to us. Accordingly, introspecting is not ubiquitous: sometimes we introspect, sometimes we do not. From the fact that Brentano's argument is not supposed to apply to inner perception, we may now infer that inner perception differs on these scores: it is nonattentive, involuntary, and ubiquitous. When one undergoes an experience of consuming anger, one is aware of it, but aware of it (i) nonattentively, insofar as one attends rather to the angering stimulus, and (ii) involuntarily, insofar as one cannot stop being aware of one's anger at will. This nonattentive, involuntary awareness is ubiquitous in our waking life. It is this kind of awareness that M4 claims is coextensive with mentality. Note, now, that M4 can be factorized into two claims: (M4a) Only mental states can be inner--‐perceived. (M4b) All mental states can be inner--‐perceived. How plausible are M4a and M4b? It might be thought obvious that only mental states can be inner--‐perceived. For if nonmental states could as well, what would make their perception 'inner'? However, if inner perception is by definition perception of mental phenomena, the claim that only mental states are inner--‐perceived is tautological. For this precise reason, Brentano offers a different, independent account of what makes inner perception inner, namely, 'its immediate, infallible (untrügliche) self--‐evidence (Evidenz)' (1874: 91 [I, 128]). This is what Brentano calls Evidenz, which he claims only inner perception exhibits. The substantial claim behind M4a is therefore that only mental states can be perceived with Evidenz. 17 The nature of Evidenz is developed more fully and subtly in later writings (see especially Brentano 1930). The essential point, however, is that whereas in outer perception there is a causal link between the perceived and the perceiving, in inner perception the link is constitutive. Thus for an experience E of a subject S to have phenomenal property P just is for S to inner--‐perceive E as P. Consider the well--‐known fraternity initiation case. As part of his fraternity initiation, S is blindfolded and told that he will be cut with a razor on the lower right side of his neck. At the moment when S is supposed to be cut, the presiding officials instead place an ice cube on the relevant spot. Oddly, this story is often cited in the context of attempting to undermine self--‐knowledge. The idea is that S believes that he is in pain when in fact he is not. But arguably the immediate and untutored intuition is that S's sensation, although not involving any tissue damage characteristic of pain, is still experienced as pain, that is, is a pain experience, at least in the first split second. One natural account of this is that, influenced by background expectations, S's inner perception presented S's concurrent experience as painful, and the experience's phenomenal character is constitutively determined by this presentation: for E to be a pain experience just is for S to inner--‐perceive E as painful. By contrast, even when an external object O is both P and outer--‐perceived to be P, it is not because it is outer--‐perceived to be P that it is P; the link is merely causal and contingent. A table's characteristics are not constitutively determined by how it is (outer--‐)perceived. This is true even of the table's secondary qualities (e.g., its color). For even secondary qualities it is possible to misperceive: if an elephant who looks gray to the normal subject in normal conditions looks pink to me right now, then I am misperceiving the elephant's color.16 Thus only mental phenomena are such that how they are is constitutively determined by how they are (inner--‐ )perceived. In other words, only they can be perceived with Evidenz. This is M4a. What about M4b, the claim that all mental states can be inner--‐perceived? In fact, according to Brentano every mental state not only can but is inner--‐perceived: 18 Everything psychical falls under inner perception. But this does not mean that everything is noticed [i.e., inner--‐observed/introspected]. It is implicitly but not explicitly presented and perceived. (1982: 129 [121])17 This extraordinarily strong claim falls out of two other aspects of Brentano's picture of mind. The first is his account of consciousness, which implies that every conscious experience is inner--‐perceived. The second is his doctrine that all mental states are conscious. Brentano's account of consciousness is part of a tradition going from Aristotle (see Caston 2002) to current--‐day self--‐representational theories, which often explicitly present themselves as Brentanian (Kriegel 2003, Textor 2006, Williford 2006). According to such theories, whatever else a conscious experience may represent, it always also represents itself – indeed, it is in virtue of representing itself that it is conscious. Such theories resemble more familiar higher--‐order thought and higher--‐order perception theories of consciousness (see Rosenthal 1990 and Lycan 1990 respectively) in asserting that every conscious state is a state the subject is aware of. They differ in insisting that the conscious state and the awareness of it are the selfsame state. There is no division between a first--‐order conscious experience and a numerically distinct higher--‐order state of awareness of it. Instead, every conscious experience plays double duty as awareness of the world and awareness of itself. This is clearly Brentano's own view: one section in the Psychology is entitled 'A presentation and the presentation of that presentation are given in one and the same act.'18 Importantly for our present purposes, the relevant awareness--‐of--‐experience is inner perception. Thus another section of the Psychology is entitled 'Every [conscious] act is perceived inwardly (innerlich wahrgenommen).'19 Somewhat confusingly to the modern reader, Brentano often describes this aspect of the awareness as a cognition (Erkenntnis) or even a judgment (Urteil). But this is simply because he takes perception to be a kind of judgment, as we saw in §3.1. This supposition is particularly transparent in passages such as this: 19 A double inner awareness (Bewusstein) is thus bound with every [conscious] act, a presentation which refers to it and a judgment which refers to it, the so--‐called inner perception, which is an immediate, self--‐evident cognition of the act. (1874: 143 [I, 203]) Here 'judgment,' 'perception,' and 'cognition' all refer to the same phenomenon. This is sensible against the background of the view that perception is a kind of judgment/cognition (because it presents what it does as true or real). It seems, then, that for Brentano it is in the very nature of consciousness to involve inner perception – that is, nonattentive and involuntary quasi--‐perceptual awareness – of the conscious experience. The Brentanian view of consciousness is of course controversial. At the same time, many current--‐day philosophers think that it is quite plausible or at least viable. By contrast, Brentano's claim that all mental states are conscious would find few if any supporters in modern philosophy of mind. Yet this claim is indispensable for the plausibility of M4b. In the remainder of this subsection, I discuss this aspect of Brentano's case for M4b. Three types of unconscious can be recognized in the modern picture of mind. First, there are sub--‐personal states and processes posited in cognitive--‐scientific explanations of behaviors manifested under experimental conditions; examples include Marr's (1982) 2.5D sketches and Milner and Goodale's (1995) dorsal--‐stream visual representations. Secondly, there are dispositional and tacit states posited in folk--‐psychological explanations of ordinary behavior – for example, the belief that the sun will rise tomorrow or the desire to be happy. Thirdly, there are Freudian subconscious states posited in 'deep--‐psychological' explanations of behaviors manifested in conditions of suppression, denial, and so on (e.g., Oedipal desire to kill one's father). Brentano denies that there are unconscious mental states of any of these types. He touches explicitly only on the sub--‐personal case, but some of the considerations he raises could be used for the dispositional and Freudian cases as well.20 20 There are several cases of sub--‐personal processes and states that Brentano considers, including the idea of unconscious inductive inferences supporting basic beliefs, such as that there is an external world (1874: 111 [I, 156]); hidden processes 'spitting up' spontaneous thoughts or ideas, such as a random mental image of an elephant (112 [156--‐7]); processes guiding appropriate absent--‐minded or autopilot behaviors, such as washing the dishes (113 [157--‐8]); and processes controlling slowly growing emotions, such as affection toward a new colleague (115 [161]). For all these cases, Brentano argues that there are other, superior explanations of the data that do not require positing unconscious mental states. In some cases (e.g., the first), the superior explanation is that certain unconscious associative processes, rather than inferential ones, are producing the relevant behavior. Thus, certain conscious experiences of cats disappearing and reappearing occur with a certain pattern, and associative processes, neurophysiological rather than properly mental, then lead to the occurrence of a conscious belief that cats persist mind--‐independently (1874: 111 [I, 156]). In other cases (e.g., the last), the superior explanation is that although the subject is not attentively aware of the relevant processes, she nonetheless enjoys peripheral inner perception of them. Thus, as one interacts with one's new colleague, one is ever so subtly aware here and there of being charmed by certain acts or impressed by certain remarks, and ultimately an affection grows of which one is more fully and attentively aware (1874: 116 [I, 162]). Brentano nowhere discusses dispositional or standing states. But he does discuss apparently mental dispositions such as character traits and behavioral habits (1874: 60 [I, 86]). It is natural to take these to be nonconscious mental phenomena. One might respond by denying the reality of such dispositions, but Brentano prefers a different route: acknowledge their existence and deny their mentality. This may be supported by the thought that a 'dispositional belief' is something of a rubber duck: it is disposition to believe rather than a belief proper.21 A disposition to believe is not a mental state; it is only a disposition to be in a mental state. 21 Brentano does not discuss any Freudian cases either, and in 1874 he was probably unaware of them as potential counterexamples. However, the combination of the above considerations could be extended to handle them as well. One could maintain that even when a person is not fully (attentively) aware of her suppressed resentment toward her sibling, at certain times she has a dim, peripheral awareness of this resentment and at other times she does not have resentment at all but only a disposition for resentment. This Brentanian (shall we say) case against unconscious mentality is far from frivolous. Still, it faces extraordinary difficulties. Consider visual representations in the dorsal stream, which are by and large inaccessible to consciousness, but control on--‐the--‐fly visually guided behavior. In virtue of controlling behavior on the basis of tracking environmental conditions, it is natural to consider such states mental. Certainly they appear to fall within the province of cognitive science. But Brentano would have to insist that they do not. He would also have to insist that a man engrossed in washing his car does not want to be happy (but is only disposed to want to be happy), which flies in the face of commonsense and may involve changing the meaning of 'wants.' Likewise, Brentano would also have to say that a person completely unaware of any resentment toward her sister, but consistently acting in a variety of inappropriately aggressive ways toward her, does not actually resent her sister (but is only disposed to resent her). Again this is highly counterintuitive. The Brentanian case against unconscious mentality is thus quite problematic. At the end of the day, it is rather implausible that all mental states are conscious. To that extent, it is also implausible that all mental states are inner--‐perceived. Furthermore, Brentano is evidently open to the conceptual possibility that some mental states are not conscious, hence not inner--‐perceived. He expressly denies that the issue of unconscious mentality can be settled on verbal grounds (1874: 102 [I, 142]), and presumably would not devote the space and energy he does to such a question. In a way, the whole raison d'être of the chapter on unconscious mentality is the conceptual possibility of such. If so, it cannot be the concept of mentality that 22 dictates that mental states must be inner--‐perceived. But our concern here is precisely with how the concept works. Still, some of Brentano's ideas about inner perception and mentality suggest a strong connection between them, even if they are not quite coextensive. These are ideas pertaining to the role inner perception plays in our initial grasp of the mental domain. I turn to these ideas next. 4.2. Inner Perception and Our Fix on the Mental We can appreciate the relevant ideas by considering Brentano's own organization of his discussion of unconscious mentality. He starts by arguing that given the nature of consciousness, there could be no direct (inner--‐)perceptual evidence of unconscious mentality – for whatever is inner--‐perceived is conscious. The question, then, is whether there might be indirect evidence for it: certain considerations that compel us to recognize mental states of which the subject is entirely unaware. There are four kinds of potential consideration Brentano mentions in this context. The first and most important is this: there might be certain phenomena (in particular, certain features of conscious experiences) whose best causal explanation requires the postulation of unconscious mental states.22 For such abductive inference to be successful, says Brentano, it must meet some conditions – certain adequacy constraints. Most of his constraints are rather innocuous: that what serves as the explanandum in any inference to the best causal explanation be a genuinely established fact (1874: 106 [I, 148]); that this fact be genuinely explained by the postulation of unconscious mental states (Ibid. [149]); that there be no better explanation of it that does not cite unconscious mental states (109 [153]). Yet, in the course of describing aspects of one of these conditions (the second one), Brentano lays down a 'sub--‐condition' that is far from innocuous. Moreover, this sub--‐condition may well embody his deepest attitude toward the relation between mentality and inner perception. 23 The sub--‐condition comes through most clearly in Brentano's discussion of Eduard von Hartmann's postulation of the unconscious: [Hartmann] differs from the majority of the proponents of unconscious mental acts in that he considers these acts to be heterogeneous as compared with conscious acts, as deviating (abweichend) from them in the most essential (wesentlichen) respects. It is obvious that anyone who adheres to such a view weakens the hypothesis of unconscious mental acts from the start. (1874: 107 [I, 150]) Apparently, for Brentano the thesis that some mental states are unconscious is substantive only to the extent that the putative unconscious states sufficiently resemble (are not 'heterogeneous with') conscious mental states. Calling such states 'mental' would be arbitrary if they failed to resemble conscious states. The thesis that some mental states are unconscious would come out true only because one will have effectively changed the meaning of 'mental.' Now, Brentano does not require from unconscious mental states perfect similarity to (strict homogeneity with) conscious states, and is willing to tolerate partial similarity (or 'analogy'): ... the alleged unconscious phenomena are considered, if not homogeneous with conscious phenomena, at least analogous to them to a certain extent (otherwise it would be wrong to classify them as mental activities). (1874: 108 [I, 151]) Clearly, however, some sufficient degree of similarity to conscious states is required in order for a state to qualify as mental. Upon reflection, this is a reasonable requirement. We have many unconscious biochemical states that we are in no way tempted to call mental. Why? Brentano's answer is: because they do not resemble sufficiently conscious states. At the same time, some biochemical brain states we are inclined to treat as mental (e.g., states of the dorsal visual cortex). The reason for this, a Brentanian could say, is that they resemble conscious states in essential respects, notably insofar as they guide behavior in virtue of representing the ambient environment. As it happens, Brentano himself thinks that no unconscious states do resemble conscious states sufficiently to qualify as mental, so there are no actual unconscious mental states. 24 But the concept of the mental does allow for unconscious mental states, provided they resemble sufficiently conscious states. One way to make sense of the requirement that unconscious mental states resemble conscious ones is by thinking of Brentano as taking conscious states to constitute the prototypical or paradigmatic mental states. As noted, he is open to the conceptual possibility of unconscious mental states. But for him, it would be arbitrary to call a state 'mental' if it did not sufficiently resemble paradigmatic mental states. On this interpretation, Brentano takes the concept of mind to be a prototype concept (akin to the concept of furniture) rather than the kind of 'flat' concept that admits of definition by necessary and sufficient conditions (such as the concept of bachelor). And he takes the prototypes of mentality to be conscious states. Just as an object qualifies as furniture just if it sufficiently resembles tables and chairs (Rosch 1975), a biochemical brain state qualifies as mental just if it sufficiently resembles conscious experiences (Horgan and Kriegel 2008). This interpretation makes sense of the passages just quoted, but does require us to attribute to Brentano a prototype conception of concepts. In addition, it also makes nonsense of Brentano's dogged search for a mark of the mental. Mark theses have the form 'All and only Fs are Gs,' so they do offer necessary and sufficient conditions for mentality. A better interpretation, I think, is that the special status Brentano gives to conscious states in the concept MENTAL is a sort of epistemic counterpart of prototypicality. The idea is that we construct our concept of the mental on the basis of encounter with conscious experiences. Among all the items (objects, states, events, etc.) S encounters in her ongoing interaction with reality are also S's own conscious experiences. This encounter with conscious experiences occurs perforce through inner perception. Noticing the similarity (or 'homogeneity') among these inner--‐perceived items, S spontaneously constructs a 'mental category,' or concept, that effectively collects under it anything that 'belongs together' with (is sufficiently similar to) these inner--‐perceived experiences. Thus the experiences that S 25 encounters through inner perception serve to epistemically ground, or anchor, her conception of the mental. Anchoring, in this sense, is the epistemic counterpart of prototypicality. An anchoring instance is not metaphysically special – it is not more of an instance of the relevant property than other instances. But it is epistemically special – it anchors the formation or acquisition of the relevant concept (see Kriegel 2011 Ch.1). We may say that for Bretano conscious experiences, even if not prototypical instances of mentality, are nonetheless anchoring instances of MENTALITY. Anchoring instances are epistemically prior to other instances, but are not metaphysically prior. They are not better instances. They do not have a constitutive role in making something an F. However, they do fix the reference of the F--‐concept. Consider the standard Kripkean model of reference--‐fixing (or a toy version thereof). My use of 'Napoleon' refers to Napoleon because of the conspiracy of two mechanisms: (i) a reference--‐fixing mechanism and (ii) a reference--‐borrowing mechanism. The reference--‐fixing occurs when, at Napoleon's proverbial baptism, his parents say 'the babe we are currently perceptually aware of shall be named Napoleon.' The reference--‐borrowing occurs when, much later, I use the name 'Napoleon' with the tacit intention of referring to the same thing they did (that is, to something with the same individual essence). There are various complications when we move to a natural kind term such as 'water,' but we may still imagine a two--‐ phase mechanism. Reference is initially fixed when we say or think 'the clear drinkable liquid of our perceptual acquaintance shall be known as water,' and is later borrowed when we use 'water' with the tacit intention of referring to the same stuff (that is, stuff of the same underlying nature). Likewise for the concept MENTAL: reference is initially fixed when one says 'the phenomena of my inner--‐perceptual acquaintance shall be called mental'; it is borrowed when one deploys the concept later with the intention of referring to the same kind of states (that is, states with the same underlying nature). On this way of looking at things, an unconscious state would qualify as mental if it sufficiently resembled the anchoring instances that fix the reference of 26 MENTAL, that is, if it had the same underlying nature as the conscious experiences inner--‐perceived in the process of the concept's formation. Having qualified as mental, this state would be as mental as the anchoring instances; it would not be a 'lesser instance' of mentality. This is why it makes sense to search for a mark of the mental. Our initial fix on what counts as mental is based on inner perception of conscious states, but it is nonetheless conceptually possible for mental states to be unconscious – provided they sufficiently resemble the conscious states inner--‐ perceived as the concept forms. This casts our concept of the mental as the concept of something which has the same underlying nature as the phenomena of our inner--‐perceptual acquaintance. For something to qualify as mental, it must have the same underlying nature as the anchoring instances of mentality, which are all conscious states. Now, since Brentano takes intentionality to be the underlying nature of inner--‐perceived states, in practice unconscious states would have to exhibit intentionality to qualify as mental. To that extent, our concept of the mental picks out anything that has intentionality. Brentano happens to think that no unconscious states do exhibit intentionality. So for him, no unconscious state qualifies as mental. But this least convincing part of Brentano's picture is rather easily excised. A Brentanian philosopher could hold that unconscious states sometimes do exhibit intentionality, and therefore do qualify as mental. For example, she may hold that states of the dorsal stream of visual cortex, although largely inaccessible to consciousness, are intentional insofar as they can sometimes misrepresent nonexistent objects. Such a Brentanian philosopher would conceive of the concept of mind just as Brentano did, disagreeing only on the concept's extension. Interestingly, then, a Brentanian could end up assigning more or less the same extension to the concept of mind as today's mainstream philosopher of mind tends to. However, the grounds on which the two do so would still be importantly different. In current--‐day mainstream philosophy of mind, a state is typically taken to 27 qualify as mental when it plays the right role in explaining behavior. In Brentanian philosophy of mind, it is taken to qualify as mental when it has the same underlying nature as conscious states of one's inner--‐perceptual acquaintance. (Arguably, underlying this difference is a much deeper gulf between the two traditions: the former takes a third--‐person perspective on the concept and nature of mentality, whereas Brentano takes an unapologetically first--‐person perspective.) Conclusion In summary, I have offered an interpretation of Brentano's concept of mind according to which our initial grasp or fix on the mental is based on inner--‐ perceptual encounter with conscious experiences. Other items qualify as mental just if they sufficiently resemble these inner--‐perceived conscious experiences in respect of underlying nature. More precisely, a subject S's state qualifies as mental iff it has the same underlying nature as phenomena of S's inner--‐perceptual acquaintance. As it happens, the underlying nature of these inner--‐perceived phenomena, and hence all mental states, is (nonderivative) intentionality: this is the feature that both demarcates the mental domain and provides its principle of speciation. So ultimately, S's state qualifies as mental iff it is intentional. Thus interpreted, Brentano's concept of mind has crucial similarities, as well as crucial dissimilarities, to the concept dominant in modern philosophy of mind and cognitive science. The most important similarity is that it is construed as a natural--‐kind concept that picks out whatever has the right underlying nature, and does so via a reference--‐fixing description. The most important dissimilarity is that while the modern concept's reference--‐fixing is grounded in the explanation of behavior, Brentano's is grounded in inner perception of conscious experiences. My own view is that the Brentanian concept is much more faithful to the folk's spontaneous, natural conception of mentality (Kriegel 2011 Ch.1); but that is not part of what I have argued here. My goal here has been to bring out the structure of Brentano's concept(ion) of mind, as the concept of whatever has the same 28 underlying nature as conscious experiences inner--‐perceived during the concept's formation, which nature happens to be intentionality.23 References  Audi, R. 1994. 'Dispositional Beliefs and Dispositions to Believe.' Noûs 28: 419--‐434.  Brentano, F.C. 1874. Psychology from Empirical Standpoint. Edited by O. Kraus. English edition L.L. McAlister. Translated by A.C. Rancurello, D.B. Terrell, and L.L. McAlister. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1973.  Brentano, F.C. 1930. The True and the Evident. Ed. O. Kraus. Trans. R.M. Chisholm, I. Politzer, and K. Fischer. London: Routledge, 1966.  Brentano, F.C. 1982. Descriptive Psychology. Edited by R.M. Chisholm and W. Baumgartner. Translated by B. Müller. London: Routledge, 1995.  Caston, V. 2002. 'Aristotle on Consciousness.' Mind 111: 751--‐815.  Chisholm, R. 1957. Perceiving: A Philosophical Study. Ithaca: Cornell UP.  Crane, T. 1998. 'Intentionality as the Mark of the Mental.' In A. O'Hear (ed.), Contemporary Issues in Philosophy of Mind. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.  Frege, G. 1892. 'On Sense and Reference.' Reprinted in P. Geach and M. Black (eds.), Translations from the Philosophical Writings of Gottlob Frege. Oxford: Blackwell, 1960.  Horgan, T. and U. Kriegel 2008. 'Phenomenal Intentionality Meets the Extended Mind.' Monist 91: 347--‐373.  Kim, C.T. 1978. 'Brentano on the Unity of Mental Phenomena.' Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 39: 199--‐207.  Kriegel, U. 2003. 'Consciousness as Intransitive Self--‐Consciousness: Two Views and an Argument.' Canadian Journal of Philosophy 33: 103--‐132.  Kriegel, U. 2011. The Sources of Intentionality. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press.  Kriegel, U. and K.W. Williford 2006. Self--Representational Approaches to Consciousness. Cambridge MA: MIT Press.  Kripke, S. 1972. 'Naming and Necessity.' In D. Davidson and G. Harman (eds.), Semantics of Natural Language. Dordrecht: Reidel.  Lycan, W.G. 1990. 'Consciousness as Internal Monitoring.' Philosophical Perspectives 9: 1--‐14.  McGinn, C. 2012. Truth by Analysis. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press.  Marr, D. 1982. Vision. San Francisco: WH Freeman Publishers. 29  Milner, A.D. and M.A. Goodale 1995. The Visual Brain in Action. Oxford: Oxford University Press.  Rosch, E.H. 1975. 'Cognitive Representations of Semantic Categories.' Journal of Experimental Psychology 104: 192--‐233.  Rosenthal, D.M. 1990. 'A Theory of Consciousness.' ZiF Technical Report 40, Bielfield, Germany. Reprinted in N.J. Block, O. Flanagan, and G. Guzeldere (eds.), The Nature of Consciousness. Cambridge MA: MIT Press, 1997.  Rutte, H. 1987. 'The Problem of Inner Perception.' Topoi 6: 19--‐23.  Schiffer, S. 1982. 'Intention Based Semantics.' Notre Dame Journal of Formal Logic 23: 119--‐159.  Seager, W. 1999. Theories of Consciousness. London: Routledge.  Sider, T. 2011. Writing the Book of the World. Oxford: Oxford University Press.  Textor, M. 2006. 'Brentano (and some Neo--‐Brentanians) on Inner Consciousness.' Dialectica 60: 411--‐432.  Twardowski, K. 1894. On the Content and Object of Presentations. Trans. R. Grossmann. The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1977.  Williford, K.W. 2006. 'The Self--‐Representational Structure of Consciousness.' In Kriegel and Williford 2006. 1 Following Chisholm (1957), the notion of intentionality is often unpacked in terms of certain failures of inference ('intensionality--‐with--‐an--‐s'). Two stand out: failure of existential generalization and substitution failure. Brentano himself, however, focused exclusively on failure of existential generalization; substitution failure would not assume central place until Frege (1892) and Twardowski (1894). 2 This is virtually the title of §3 of the relevant chapter of the Psychology. 3 This is discussed in §4 of the demarcation chapter, though Brentano is more tentative here than with the other marks he mentions. His reservations about it are two: that it is a purely negative characterization, and that it is quite controversial (whereas a mark should be agreed upon). Still, Brentano does seem to think that this mark is just as extensionally adequate as the others; it is just that he thinks it is instrumentally problematic, for the community of inquiry, to adopt a mark whose extensional adequacy not everybody appreciates. 4 'Another characteristic which all mental phenomena have in common is the fact that they are only perceived in inner consciousness, while in the case of physical phenomena only external perception is possible' (1874: 91 [I, 128]). 5 This is an offshoot of the previous mark, and is discussed by Brentano in the same section. It is important to note here that the German term for 'perception' is Wahrnehmung, literally something like 'truth--‐taking.' Thus the German verb is even more clearly a success verb than the English. With this in mind, and given Brentano's Kantian proclivities about the object of sense perception, passages such as the following make much sense: 'Moreover, inner perception is... really the only perception in 30 the strict sense of the word. As we have seen, the phenomena of the so--‐called external perception cannot be proved true and real even by means of indirect demonstration. For this reason, anyone who in good faith has taken them for what they seem to be is being misled... Therefore, strictly speaking, so--‐called external perception is not perception. Mental phenomena, therefore, may be described as the only phenomena of which perception in the strict sense of the word is possible.' (1874: 91 [I, 128--‐9]) 6 According to Brentano, all external phenomena are such in the Kantian sense of being appearances. The only phenomena that have 'noumenal reality' are the self and its modifications. Here no gap between appearance and reality is possible. Accordingly, mental appearances are also mental realities, whereas physical appearances are not also physical realities. An argument along these lines can be found already in pp. 9--‐10 of the Psychology, and is repeated in §7 of the demarcation chapter. 7 Brentano writes: 'We can say [that] insofar as the whole multiplicity of mental phenomena which appear to us in our inner perception always appear as a unity, which the same is not true of the physical phenomena which we grasp simultaneously through the so--‐called external perception.' (1874: 96 [I, 135]) This discussion presupposes a fairly involved mereological conception of unities as special kinds of wholes or sums, a conception developed more fully by Brentano on a completely different occasion (see Brentano 1982). 8 The intentional mark is not even discussed at greater length than all of the others. In the English edition, three pages are dedicated to it in the demarcation chapter. By contrast, the 'presentation' mark is discussed over five pages and the 'extension' and 'unity' marks take three pages each as well. 9 The metaphysics of matter raises a number of questions singular to it, which have been treated in an independent manner at least since Aristotle (e.g., the problem of the statue and the clay, now discussed under the heading of 'material constitution'). Meanwhile, the metaphysics of mind, and in particular its relation to matter, have been the topic of dedicated discussions around the 'mind--‐body problem.' And problems about the status of abstracta – from universals through numbers to values – have likewise been the topic of dedicated discussions. 10 The idea that the origin of the three--‐way distinction between the physical, the mental, and the abstract is sometimes presented in a deflationary spirit, that is, in the context of voicing skepticism about there being a real distinction between the three. Thus, McGinn (2012 Ch.11) argues that 'ontology rests on a mistake,' as they say, inasmuch as it rests on an illicit inference from an epistemic to a metaphysical tripartite division of putative entities. However, this deflationary take is not built into the idea itself. 11 More precisely, there is here a sui generis kind of directedness at the good. One can of course believe that the espresso is good, but such a belief does not qualify as a state of interest by Brentano's light. Brentano flags sensitivity to this point by writing: 'I do not believe that anyone will understand me to mean that phenomena belonging to this class are cognitive acts by which we perceive the goodness or badness, value or disvalue of certain objects. Still, in order to make such an interpretation absolutely impossible, I explicitly note that this would be a complete misunderstanding of my real meaning.' (1874: 239 [II, 89]) It seems that Brentano has in mind a distinctively conative way of being directed at the good. 12 Presentation is, for Brentano, the most basic type of mental phenomenon, as judgment and interest always presuppose a presentation. Accordingly, in Brentano's own expositions of the three classes presentation tends to be the first. 31 13 Kripke would put this by saying that the thesis that intentionality is the essence of the mental is necessary a posteriori. Brentano does not tend to make modal claims, so he would not put it this way. Still, the commonality with the Kripkean notion of underlying nature is evident. 14 I am not familiar with a discussion of moods in Brentano. However, there are standard intentional treatments of moods, most notably the view that moods present properties of the world as a whole. 'Being depressed is a way of being conscious of things in general: everything seems worthless, or pointless, dull and profitless,' as Seager (1999: 183) writes (see also Crane 1998). 15 The view is a central tenet of Gricean intention--‐based semantics (e.g., Schiffer 1982), but seems to be shared more widely. 16 It is true that with secondary qualities, there is a kind of global error that is likely impossible; but local errors are still possible. Things are different with inner perception: according to Brentano, here even local misperception is impossible. 17 This is from a lecture series on inner perception from 1887--‐8, reprinted in English translation in Brentano 1982. 18 This is §8 of Book II, Chapter 2. In it Brentano writes: '... inner experience seems to prove undeniably that the presentation of the sound is connected with the presentation of the presentation of the sound in such a peculiarly intimate way that its very existence constitutes an intrinsic prerequisite for the existence of this presentation. This suggests that there is a special connection between the object of inner presentation and the presentation itself, and that both belong to one and the same mental act.' (1874: 127 [I, 179]) 19 This is §4 of Book II, Chapter 3. I have changed Brentano's 'mental' to 'conscious' because, while in his discussion he has already shown that the mental and the conscious are coextensive, here this remains to be discussed. 20 Brentano's own discussion – in Bk I Ch.3 §6 and Bk II Ch.2 esp. §4 – is not organized around these three alleged types of unconscious. 21 To posit dispositional beliefs on top of dispositions to believe would seem to be explanatorily pointless. Thus dispositional beliefs, insofar as they are meant to be more than just dispositions to believe, would appear to be explanatorily preempted by the latter (see Audi 1994). 22 One apparent blindspot in Brentano's discussion is his lack of consideration of behavioral phenomena whose best causal explanation might call for the postulation of unconscious mental states. He virtually only considers conscious phenomena that might call for such postulation. 23 This work was supported by the French National Research Agency's ANR--‐11--‐0001--‐02 PSL* and ANR--‐10--‐LABX--‐0087. For comments on a previous draft, I am grateful to Arnaud Dewalque, Guillaume Fréchette, and Denis Seron. I have also benefited from presenting the paper at conferences at the McMaster University and University of Salzburg; I am indebted to the audience there, in particular Johannes Brandl, Arkadiusz Chrudzimski, Daniel Harris, Colin Johnson, Sonia Kamińska, Sandra Lapointe, Olivier Massin, Dan Shargel, Ion Tanasescu, Mark Textor, Genki Uemura, and Alberto Voltolini.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Turning the Tables on McTaggart1 EMILIANO BOCCARDI Abstract According to A-theories of time, the metaphysical ground of change and dynamicity is provided by a continuous shifting in which events are past, present and future (A-determinations). It is often claimed that these theories make better sense of our experience of dynamicity than their rival, the B-theories; according to the latter, dynamicity is grounded solely in the irreducible earlier-than relations (B-relations) which obtain between events or states of affairs. In this paper, I argue that the experience of time's dynamicity, on the contrary, cannot be accounted for solely in terms of representations of irreducible A-determinations, because any representation which is adequate to ground these experiencesmust itself involve representation of irreducible B-relations, while it needs not involve representation of A-determinations. Even if, as amatter of contingent fact, our experiences of dynamicity consisted of representations of successions of A-determinations, what would account for them being experiences of dynamicity would be solely the B-theoretic relations of succession, rather than the irrelevant A-theoretic nature of the relata. 1. Introduction Let me begin with some stage setting. For the purposes of this paper, I take the B-theory to be the view that temporal reality comprises solely B-relations of (temporal) precedence, succession and simultaneity. A-determinations of pastness, presentness and futurity are taken to be unreal and illusory. According to the B-theory, objective A-determinations are totally absent from reality, even from that part of reality which consists of experiential events. It is important to stress that I take the B-relations in question to be irreducibly temporal, intrinsically oriented, genuinely dynamic relations (of the kind Oaklander calls 'R-relations', and Savitt 'absolute becoming').2 1 Research for this paper was supported by grant 2015/20138-2 from FAPESP (Brazil). I wish to thank Nathan Oaklander, Federico Perelda and an anonymous referee for their insightful comments on earlier drafts of this paper. 2 Cf. N. Oaklander, 'The A-, Band R-theories of Time: A Debate' in The Future of the Philosophy of Time (ed.) A. Bardon (NewYork: Routledge, 2012), 1–24; and S. Savitt, 'On Absolute Becoming and the Myth of Passage', in Time, Reality & Experience (ed.) C. Callender (2002), 153–67. 1 doi:10.1017/S0031819118000141 © The Royal Institute of Philosophy, 2018 Philosophy; Page 1 of 16 2018 A-theories, by contrast, are characterized by the claim that A-theoretic distinctions reflect objective distinctions. B-relations, according to this view, need not be absent from reality, or conceptually dependent on the instantiation of A-determinations (although this is probably the majority view). What is necessary to qualify a view as A-theoretic is that (i) A-determinations be not conceptually dependent on B-relations and that (ii) change, dynamicity, and the passage of time be uniquely accountable for in A-theoretic terms. The main dispute in the philosophy of time has been largely concerned with the need to resolve a conflict between reasons of experience in favor of temporal passage and reasons of the intellect against it. The latter appeal to logic, to a priori principles, or to science, while the former typically make a direct appeal to experience. The A-theories have been claimed to be better suited to do justice to how temporal reality seems to be. Some B-theorists conceded that reality appears dynamic but, convinced by intellectualistic reasons, concluded that these experiences must be illusory;3 others tried to show that the B-theory is equally capable of accounting for our experience of time's passage.4 Very few, however, have argued that the B-theory is phenomenologically superior to the A-theory. Here I argue that it is. We all know what we mean when we say that an event succeeded another, or that two events are simultaneous. Of course, our metaphysical understanding of these relations is an altogether different matter, but the meaning of these terms appears to be firmly grounded on our common experience of time. According to an influential view, we derive our mastery of these concepts directly from experience. Here is how Russell expressed it: Immediate experience provides us with two time-relations among events: they may be simultaneous, or one may be earlier and the other later. These two are part of the crude data; it is not the case that only the events are given, and their time-order is added by our subjective activity. The time-order, within certain limits, is as much given as the events.5 3 Cf. D.C. Williams, 'The Myth of Passage', Journal of Philosophy 48 (1951), 457–72. 4 Cf. S. Savitt, op. cit. 5 B. Russell, Our Knowledge of the External World (London: Allen and Unwin, 1914), 121–2. 2 Emiliano Boccardi Following Dainton6 let us call the view that we directly perceive succession and simultaneity: phenomeno-temporal Realism, or Realism for short. Prima facie, Realism does not commit one to the B-theory of time, nor does it favor it. Firstly, as I am understanding A-theories of time, these do not exclude that reality contains also independent and irreducible B-facts.7 If so, then the mere fact that we directly (and veridically) perceive B-relations is mute as to whether reality also contains irreducible A-facts, or as to whether we also perceive these. Secondly, the view that we directly perceive temporal successions appears to be compatible with the view that we do so precisely by perceivingA-theoretic structureswithin individual acts of awareness.This is how so-called retentionalist views of temporal perception explain how we experience successions. According to Retentionalism,8 an experience of succession, like that of hearing Re following Do, consists of a momentary complex of experiential representations, comprising an immediate experience representing Re as present, together with a simultaneous experience (retention) representing Do as recently past. Now, one may object to Retentionalism on the ground that it does not live up to careful phenomenological scrutiny. While hearing a rapid succession of notes, for example, it is not clear that we distinctly hear one of these as present, and others as past: All the notes of a bar of a song seem to the listener to be contained in the present. All the changes of place of a meteor seem to the beholder to be contained in the present. At the instant of the termination of such series, no part of the time measured by them seems to be a past.9 Here, however, I do not wish to pursue this line of criticism. Rather than arguing that we do not (as a matter of contingent fact) perceive successions this way, I wish to argue that we could not. Let me stress since now that this does not entail that our experiences never represent such A-theoretic structures. From my argument, it only 6 B. Dainton, 'Temporal Consciousness', The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2017 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.). 7 Cf. L.R. Baker, The Metaphysics of Everyday Life (Cambridge: University Press, 2007). 8 Cf. E.Husserl,On the Phenomenology of Consciousness of Internal Time (trans. J.B. Brough. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1893–1917 [1991]). 9 E. R. Clay, quoted in W. James, Principles of Psychology (New York: Henry Holt, 1890 [1983]), 609. 3 Turning the Tables on McTaggart follows that even if we sometimes did represent such structures in experience, it would not be these experiences which furnish our understanding with the empirical notion of temporal succession and dynamicity. As I said, according to Retentionalism, we experience the temporal succession of say, Do and Re by representing Re as present and Do as (recently) past. This view has significant advantages for the A-theorist. Firstly, it makes room for the view that we directly experience dynamicity despite the fact that reality, and hence experience itself (being part of reality) is restricted to the present instant of time (Presentism). Secondly, the view that experiences as of succession amount to experiences as of A-theoretic discriminations fits well with the contention, often made by A-theorists, that A-determinations (if real) provide the metaphysical ground for B-relations. This is why. McTaggart famously argued that, without A-theoretic distinctions, there could not be any genuinely temporal relations. A-theorists typically agree about this. Short of A-determinations (and their shifting from one event to the other), they think, whatever relations there might bewhich generate a linear order of events would fail to generate a genuine temporal order.10 McTaggart and the A-theorists conclude that it must be the – illusory, for McTaggart, and veridical for the A-theorists – experience of primitive A-determinations which produces the experience of temporal relations and dynamicity: if only A-determinations are capable of being dynamic, then only experiences of A-determinations can amount to experiences of dynamicity. Accordingly, many A-theorists try to provide conceptual reductions of B-statements to (complexes of) A-statements: '[t]he Bseries is reducible to the A-series since B-relations can be analyzed in terms of A-determinations [...] The A-series is both necessary and it alone sufficient for accounting for all temporal facts'.11 This contention stems from the observation that temporal relations (B-relations), and hence the order that they induce on events, have an intrinsic sense. The notion of 'sense' at issue here is well expressed by Broad: Three points on a line have an intrinsic order, i.e., B is between A and C, or C is between B and A, or A is between C and B. 10 Since he thought that shifting A-determinations cannot be real, he further argued that temporal relations must be unreal too (A-theorists of course disagree with this part of his argument). 11 R.M. Gale, The Language of Time (London: Routiedge & Kegan. Paul, 1969), 86. 4 Emiliano Boccardi This order is independent of any tacit reference to something transversing the line in a certain direction. By difference in sense I mean the sort of difference which there is between, say, ABC and CBA. Now points on a straight line do not have an intrinsic sense.12 Since A-theorists typically believe that only shifting A-determinations could provide a mere a-temporal ordering of events (a C-series, in McTaggart terminology)13 with an intrinsic sense, they conclude, with McTaggart, that A-determinations are conceptually fundamental.14 If this were true, it would follow that we could not directly experience B-relations if not by experiencing A-determinations, since we could not experience their intrinsic sense without experiencing A-theoretic properties. I shall argue that this cannot be the case. To do so, I shall I argue for the following theses: 1. First (section 2), that the fact that an event is present and another past is not, taken in isolation from other facts, a dynamical fact: it does not suffice, alone, to make reality dynamic. It follows that an experience as of an event being present and another past does not amount to an experience of dynamicity. 2. Second (section 2), that the logical conjunction of two or more incompatible A-theoretic structures similar to the one mentioned above is equally insufficient to make reality dynamic. It follows that an experience representing such juxtaposition of A-theoretic facts cannot amount to an experience of dynamicity. 3. I proceed (section 3) to argue that only the fact that there is a transition between the presentness of an event and the presentness of another event could constitute a dynamical fact. I provide an analysis of the notion of transition involved and conclude that it can only consist in a B-theoretic irreducible, intrinsically directed relation of succession between these 12 C.D. Broad, Scientific Thought (Routledge and Kegan Paul Ltd. London. Rpt. 1959, Littlefield, Adams & Co., Patterson, New Jersey, 1923), 57. 13 According to McTaggart, the a-temporal C-series, ordered by the relation of 'inclusion', plays an essential role in explaining the illusion of time and dynamicity. 14 Cf. J.M.E. McTaggart, 'The Unreality of Time', Mind (1908) 18, 457–84, 463–4. 5 Turning the Tables on McTaggart events (if such there be). It follows that only an experience as of such a succession could amount to an experience as of dynamicity. 4. Finally (section 4), I argue that the A-theoretic nature of the relata of such transitions does not contribute to make these facts dynamic: the B-theoretic relation of succession is alone necessary and sufficient to make a fact dynamic. I conclude that the experience as of a B-theoretic transitions (regardless of whether these are transitions between A-theoretic facts or not) is alone necessary and sufficient for it being an experience of dynamicity. In section 5, I consider two potential combatting maneuvers to salvage the alleged phenomenological superiority of the A-theory: abandoning Retentionalism and abandoning Realism. I argue that abandoning Retentionalism either amounts to conceding that the B-theory is phenomenologically superior to the A-theory, or faces the same problems discussed in section 2. The extreme maneuver of abandoning Realism, i.e. to claim that we never directly experience dynamic successions, finally, would equally deprive the A-theory of its chief allure: that of being uniquely capable of explaining our experience of dynamicity and temporal passage. 2. The changelessness of A-determinations Let me start by pointing out a very common mistake. We often hear that the crucial point of contention between the Aand the B-theory is whether the Aor the B-series is more fundamental. This conveys themistaken impression that there could be a singleA-series, ordering events from the distant to the near past, to the present, to the near and more distant future. This is surely wrong. To see why it suffices to consider those A-theories which provide a conceptual reduction of presentness to features that are not essentially dynamic. Many Presentists, for example, think that presentness can be reduced to non-temporal concepts such as truth (Crisp 2007),15 actuality (Bigelow1991),16 reality (Prior 1970),17 existence (Christensen 15 T. Crisp, 'Presentism and the grounding objection', Noûs 41.1 (2007), 90–109. 16 J. Bigelow, J. 'Worlds Enough for Time', Noûs 25 (1991), 1–19. 17 A. N. Prior, 'The Notion of the Present', Studium Generale 23 (1971), 245–48. 6 Emiliano Boccardi 1993),18 or being located at the 'edge' of a growing block (Broad 1923, Tooley 2997, Forrest 2004).19Now, it is clear that the bases for the reduction of presentness that these accounts offer do not comprise essentiallydynamic elements. Being true, or real, or actual, or being located at the last frontier of existence, in fact, are not essentially dynamic qualities, i.e. qualities that change by their own nature, just in virtue of being instantiated: something can well be true, or real, or actual, etc., without changing. It follows that these theories, unadorned, are not sufficient to provide us with an account of the passage of time. Sure, most (if not all) A-theorists adorn their metaphysics by adding to the fact that a given time, t, is absolutely present, the fact that so many other times t*, t**, etc. have been and will be present too. Thus, for example, Skow claimed that '"The NOW is moving into the future" means (roughly) "The NOW is located at t, and it will be the case that the NOW is located at a time later than t"'.20 This, it will be argued, surely suffices to make it true that time passes: if it is true that times other than the present have been and will be present too, then it must be also true that time passes, since if the present has reached and will reach different A-theoretic locations, this can only be because time passes. However, while this entailment may be correct, and even analytically correct at that, it does nothing tomake individualA-series themselves dynamic in any sense. The same point can be made in a number of different ways. Kit Fine, for example, made a similar point when he noted that '[t]he passage of time requires that the moments of time be successively present and this appears to require more than the presentness of a single moment of time'.21 The A-theorist, Fine continues, might appeal to the fact that any particular future time t+ will be present and that any particular past time t− was present. However, the future presentness of t+ amounts to no more than t being present and t+ being later than t and, similarly, the past presentness of t− amounts to no more than t being present and t− being earlier than t. But then how can the 18 F. Christensen, Space-like Time (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1993). 19 C.D. Broad, op. cit.; M. Tooley,Time, Tense, and Causation (Oxford University Press, 1997); P. Forrest, 'The real but dead past: a reply to Braddon-Mitchell', Analysis 64 (2004), 358–62. 20 B. Skow, 'Why does Time Pass?', Nous 46 (2012), 223–242, 224. 21 K. Fine, 'Tense and Reality', in Modality and Tense: Philosophical Papers (ed.) K. Fine (Oxford University Press, 2005), 261–320, 287 (emphasis added). 7 Turning the Tables on McTaggart passage of time be seen to rest on the fact that a given time is present and that various other times are either earlier or later than that time?22 We are now in the position to see what's wrong with the retentionalist version of Realism. If we do directly experience Do being followed by Re (i.e. if Realism is true), then surely we don't experience this as a sequence going from Do being past to Re being present: this is absurd. Re being past andDo being present – supposedly represented simultaneously within a single act of awareness – are simultaneous states of affairs, hence a fortiori a representation of them cannot amount to a representation of any change. If there are A-theoretic successions at all, these are from, say, Do being present to Re being present, not from Do being past to Re being present. As Huw Price put it: '[the notions of passage, change or temporal transition] seem to involve a relation between equals, a passing of the baton between one state of affairs an another'.23 3. Only primitive B-theoretic successions could be dynamic. We are tricked into thinking that tense properties are immune from the charge of changelessness because we tend to read more into the contention that there are past states of affairs than it actually conveys. We assume that if something is (already) past it must have become past first. While this assumption may be correct, however, the proposition that an event is past does still not convey the same thought as the proposition that that event was becoming past, when (or before) it became past. To illustrate this difficulty, consider Thomas Crisp's proposal to reduce the notion of presentness to the truth of one (unique) element of a series of abstract ('ersatz') times, construed as maximally consistent sets of propositions (abstract representations of an instantaneous state of the world). The elusive, impermanent aspect of time, according to this view, is nothing over and above the logical conjunction of a thing's former existence with its current non-existence. Caesar did exist, for example, and he doesn't any more. The presentness of Caesar's existence, during his life, was nothing over and above 22 K. Fine, op. cit. note 21 See also my 'If it ain't Moving it shall not be Moved', Topoi 34.1 (2015), 171–185, for an extensive discussion of this defect of comparative accounts of passage. 23 H. Price, 'The Flow of Time', in The Oxford Handbook of Time (ed.) Craig Callender (Oxford University Press, 2011), 279. 8 Emiliano Boccardi the truth of the proposition that he (tenselessly) exists. Likewise, the presentness of his current non-existence is nothing more than the truth of the proposition that he doesn't exist. As Oaklander has pointed out in criticizing this comparative account of passage, however: since on Crisp's view all times are present at the time they are regardless of what time it is, there is no basis or ground in the ersatz B-series for picking out one and only one time that has the property of being present to the exclusion of all earlier and later times that are (tenselessly) also present at their own respective time [...].24 The disregard of A-theorists for the fact of transiency is particularly clear in Crisp's response to Oaklander: Imagine someone trying to argue against actualism in the same vein. Actualists, they say, hold that one and only one world W1 has the property being actual but that for some distinct world W2 logically accessible from W1, POSS[W2 has being actual]. But this won't do, says our objector, because if W1 has being actual and POSS[W2 has being actual], then, contrary to actualism, bothW1 andW2 have being actual. This isn't an impressive objection to actualism. But is it interestingly different than objecting to presentism by claiming that if (*) is true, then every abstract time has each of the A-properties?25 It is interestingly different, I argue! It is, at least, if one wishes to incorporate the idea that which states of affairs happen to be present is a matter that keeps changing. Possible worlds, unlike times (which must become past), are not required to become real, and the actual world is not required to become merely possible. That's why that argument is unimpressive. Indeed, M. J. Cresswell proposed a modal version of McTaggart's argument, very much in line with that which Crisp has ridiculed. It was devised to show that primitive modality is unreal, just like McTaggart tried to show that time is unreal. Here is how it goes: Many M-positions are incompatible with each other. An event which is merely possible for example cannot also be actual. 24 N. Oaklander, 'McTaggart's Paradox and Crisp's Presentism', Philosophia 38 (2010), 229–241, 236. 25 T. Crisp, 'Review of L. Nathan Oaklander's The Ontology of Time', Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews: http://ndpr.nd.edu/review.cfm?id=2201 (2005), my emphasis. 9 Turning the Tables on McTaggart Being merely possible and being actual are mutually incompatible properties of things and events. But because they are contingencies everything has to have them all. Everything occupies every M-position from merely possible to actual. But nothing can really have incompatible properties, so nothing in reality has modal properties. M-positions are a myth.26 This line of argument is appropriate to expose the essential role of the transitory aspect of time inMcTaggart's reasoning. As Heather Dyke has rightly observed: In seeking to construct a modal analogue of McTaggart's paradox, Cresswell faltered when it came to invoking a modal analogue of the continual change of tense that events undergo. He appealed to the 'contingency' of modal properties, but it clearly does not validate the analogous modal inference. Thus, this modal analogue of McTaggart's paradox fails to force one into the position either of rejecting modality as incoherent (as McTaggart rejects tense as incoherent) or of adopting modal realism (as Mellor adopts tenseless time). It fails, I believe, because there is no clear modal analogue of the change of tense that events and times appear to undergo.27 It follows that, if the A-theory is true, then temporal reality does not consist of one individual A-series, but of a series of such series. This point, largely neglected in the literature, was noted by Gale when he claimed that '[b]ecoming requires that there be a sequence of Aseries, i.e., that events change with respect to their A-determinations'.28 In our example, temporal reality consists of two A-series: one, A1, in which Do is present and Re future, and the other, A2 in which Do is past and Re present. Neither series alone could turn an a-temporal ordering of events (a C-series) into a genuine B-series since, as noted by Nathan Oaklander, 'there is nothing in a single A-series superimposed on a C-series that changes. There is nothing 26 M. J. Cresswell, 'Modality and Mellor's McTaggart', Stud. Logica 49 (1990), 163–170, 165–6. 27 H. Dyke, 'Real times and possible worlds', in Questions of Time and Tense (ed.) Robin le Poidevin (Oxford University Press, 1998), 93–117, 103. 28 R. Gale, op. cit., 190. This possibility has also been contemplated and criticized in N. Oaklander, 'Mctaggart's Paradox Defended', Metaphysica 3 (1), 2002, 16: '[p]erhaps an A-theorist could construe temporal becoming as involving a second series whose terms are each an A1-series (of the first level). [...] However, there is no way that can be consistently done.' 10 Emiliano Boccardi that has a property and then loses it'.29 This leaves the A-theorist with the following dilemma. The crucial question to be asked about the series of A-series is: what relation is there between these various Ai-series? Such relation is either temporal or non-temporal. I argue that both of these options have unwanted consequence for the claim that the A-theory is capable of doing justice to our experience of time (let alone for the claim that it is uniquely so capable). If the relation is non-temporal, e.g. if the passage of time consists of a C-series of A-series, then each term in both A1 and A2, say Do, has (timelessly) both incompatible A-determinations: past and present. It cannot, in fact, be claimed that these are had successively. If, instead, it is temporal, i.e. if A1 was temporally succeeded by A2, then it could only consist of an irreducible B-relation. In fact, to claim that this relation of succession, that between A1 and A2, stands in further need of another A-series to acquire its intrinsic sense, and hence to count as a genuine B-relation, would inevitably launch us into a vicious regress. By now, McTaggart's alarm bells should be firing all over the place. 4. The representation of A-determinations cannot contribute to represent dynamic features of reality. The A-theorist might hope to block this conclusion by claiming that the entire series of A-series is somehow 'contained' analytically within each of its terms. Consider for example how Richard Gale expresses the relation between the various A-series: Becoming requires that there be a sequence of A-series, i.e., that events change with respect to their A-determinations. How can this series of A-series be derived from a single A-series? It can easily be shown that if there is one A-series there must be a series of A-series. Assume that the A-series consists of events M, N and 29 N. Oaklander, op. cit. ibid. It might be objected that theA-series as it was introduced by McTaggart is a series of positions in time, considered in abstraction from any contents. Since the ordering induced by A-determinations on these abstract positions is blind to the continuous shifting of the present, in this sense there is only one A-series. Here, however, we are concerned with a notion of 'A-series' the encounter with which would account for our experience of change and dynamicity. This, I have argued, can only consist of a series of different concrete A-series (thanks to an anonymous referee for pointing this out to me). 11 Turning the Tables on McTaggart O, which are respectively past, present and future. A past (future) event by definition is one which was (will be) present, therefore, there was (will be) an A-series in which M (O) is present. Thus, if there is one A-series there is becoming – a 'series of A-series'; and if the A-series is objective so too is becoming.30 Now, while it may be conceded that if there were one objective Aseries, there would have to be an entire series of A-series, and that if this were the case, temporal becoming would be objective too, this order of implication obscures the real order of explanation. I have argued, in fact, that if it wasn't for genuine and irreducible B-relations between incompatible A-series, there would be no becoming or dynamicity. But if there was no becoming, there wouldn't be even a single A-series to start with. In other words, I have argued that, without irreducible B-relations, each wannabe A-series would be a mere C-series: no event could be objectively past if time didn't pass; and I have also argued that time wouldn't pass without irreducible B-relations. Therefore, no experience could represent genuine tense determinations without representing irreducible B-relations between them. Since it is impossible that we ever experience transparent contradictions (e.g. Do being tenselessly both past and present), if the A-theorist wants to uphold Realism, i.e. if she wants to claim that we directly experience successions and dynamicity, she will have to concede that a necessary ingredient of these is our experiencing irreducibleB-relations.Moreover, since our further representing the terms of these relations as objectively present (if we ever do this at all) would do nothing to contribute to the dynamicity of these contents (see Section 2 above), she will have to further concede that representing such irreducible B-relations is also sufficient for our experience of dynamicity. Summing up, I have argued that Realism is incompatible with the A-theory of time. In a nutshell, my argument was that, if one wants to uphold Realism, onemust concede that the direct experience of B-relations is necessary and sufficient for the direct experience of dynamicity, thus fatally damaging the main allure of the A-theory, i.e. its alleged phenomenological superiority over the B-theory. 5. Where does this leave the A-theory? Let me conclude by mentioning two ways in which the A-theorist might respond to my argument. I shall argue that they both fail. In 30 R. Gale, op. cit., 190. 12 Emiliano Boccardi deriving the conclusion that Realism is incompatible with the A-theory, I have so far discussed the shortcomings of Retentionalism. It will be immediately objected that (1) endorsing Realism does not commit the A-theorist to Retentionalism; and that (2) endorsing an A-theory of time does not commit one to Realism. In the rest of this paper I shall argue that neither response can be used to salvage the presumed phenomenological superiority of the A-theory. There are two ways in which the A-theorist may try to uphold Realism while denying Retentionalism. First, while continuing to endorse an atomistic view of temporal experience, according to which we apprehend dynamicity within momentary (atomic) acts of awareness, she might deny that the internal structure of the contents of such experiences comprises tense differentiations. Lee advocates a (rare) example of such a view: The content of an atomic experience need not divide events into past, present and future, as we find in Husserl's (1964) position, which involves the well-known distinction between 'retention' 'perception' and 'protention' [...]. Atomic theorists could deny that there is any tensing in the content of experience at all. Or they could hold that everything that is perceived seems to be happening roughly in the present, in a way that is consistent with the relevant events being non-simultaneous, but that no further differentiation of tense is involved.31 Here I do not wish to discuss the value of this view as a phenomenological theory.Formypurposes, it suffices to point out that it amounts to a concession that experiences representing irreducible B-relations are necessary and sufficient for representing dynamic contents. The second way in which the A-theorist might uphold Realism while denying Retentionalism, is by endorsing a non-atomic, Extentionalist view of time perception, according to which dynamic experiences are themselves extended through time. Now, one may reasonably claim that this view is simply incompatible with most standard versions of the A-theory (e.g. with Presentism), on the grounds that, '[i]f the momentary present is all that is real, there is no obvious option but to locate our experience of change and persistence in the momentary present.'32 But even if one were to abandon Presentism in favor of an A-theory which does not restrict what is 31 G. Lee, 'Temporal Experience and the Temporal Structure of Experience', Philos Impr. 14(1) 2014, 1–21. 32 B. Dainton, op. cit. 13 Turning the Tables on McTaggart real to the momentary present, the same criticism that was raised against Retentionalism would apply here too. This is why. Consider for example the Growing Block view,33 according to which reality consists of all the events that happened up to the present time, including those that are happening now. The passage of time consists in the fact that more of reality comes to be as time goes by. Presentness is conceptually reduced to 'reality at the edge of existence'. Could the Realist growing blocker claim that experiences as of dynamicity extend from the present back to the past for a short stretch of time? No, I argue. As I have already said, dynamic successions do not relate past events with present events, they relate present events with (successive) present events, which within a growing block view of time amounts to relating different phases of the growing block, rather than different events within a single block as it is at any given time. Again, the A-theorist faces the same dilemma as the Retentionalist. What is the relation between these phases? If it is non-temporal, for example if it amounts to an internal relation between the different sizes of the relata, then a contradiction ensues (the block would tenselessly have incompatible sizes). On the other hand, if it is temporal, it can only be an irreducible relation of succession, which alone could ground the truth that events that are not at the edge of existence are objectively past. Once again, the perception of pure B-relations would turn out to be necessary for our experiences of dynamicity. Moreover, since the perception of events as present (i.e. being located at the latest end of the block), if such there be, would do nothing to contribute to the dynamicity of the content perceived, the perception of pure B-relations would turn out to be also sufficient for our experiences of dynamicity. Finally, the A-theorist could abandon Realism altogether. This is how Thomas Reid famously expressed this Anti-Realist view: It may here be observed that, if we speak strictly and philosophically, no kind of succession can be an object either of the senses or of consciousness; because the operations of both are confined to the present point of time, and there can be no succession in a point of time; and on that account the motion of a body, which is a successive change of place, could not be observed by the senses alone without the aid of memory.34 33 Cf. C.D. Broad, op. cit; M. Tooley, op. cit.; P. Forrest, op. cit. 34 T. Reid, Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man, (ed.) D.R. Brookes (Knud, Penn State Press, 1786 [2002]), Essay III, chapter V. 14 Emiliano Boccardi This view, though phenomenologically dubious, has the advantage (for the A-theorist) that it preserves the idea that dynamicity requires tense distinctions while being compatible with Presentism. Unfortunately, however, it falls prey to the same difficulties that we discussed in the case of Retentionalism. What dynamicity can there be in the mere simultaneous contrast between a perceived content and a remembered one?As I have argued at length, such representations of solitaryA-structures do not represent any dynamicity, regardless of whether these representations are perceptual (as Realism claims) or not. Why should we associate the (present) contrast between an experienced event and a remembered one with something dynamic? Again, surely the concept of past contains analytically the notion of passage (it is perhaps more than a coincidence that 'past' used to be the past tense of 'to pass'). But whence should we get the information that memories of events represent past events in this robust sense, if not from the perception, or pure intuition, that these events have dynamically become past, i.e. that there was a dynamic (B-theoretic) succession between their being present and the presently perceived events being present? PerhapsWittgenstein had this question inmindwhenhe asked: If memory is no kind of seeing into the past, how do we know at all that it is to be taken as referring to the past? We could then remember some incident and be in doubt whether in our memory image we have a picture of the past or of the future. We can of course say: I do not see the past, only a picture of the past. But how do I know it's a picture of the past [...]? Have we, say, learnt from experience to interpret these pictures as pictures of the past?35 6. Conclusions I have argued that both Realism and Anti-Realism are incompatible with the claimed phenomenological superiority of the A-theory of time. The experience of time's dynamicity cannot be accounted for solely in terms of representations of irreducible A-determinations, because any representation which is adequate to ground the experience of time's dynamicity must itself involve representation of irreducible B-relations, while it needs not involve representation of A-determinations. Even if, as a matter of contingent fact, our 35 L. Wittgenstein, 'Philosophical Remarks', in The Wittgenstein Reader (ed.) A. Kenny (Oxford, Wiley Blackwell, 1975 [2005]), 82. 15 Turning the Tables on McTaggart experiences of dynamicity consisted of representations of successions of incompatible A-theoretic orderings, what would account for them being experiences of dynamicitywouldbe solely theB-theoretic relation of succession, rather than the irrelevantA-theoretic nature of the relata. There is a structural similarity between the arguments advanced here and McTaggart's argument for the fundamentality of the A-series. McTaggart derived the (phenomenological) conclusion that an experience as of an irreducible B-relation holding between two events cannot amount to an experience of change, from the (metaphysical) observation that B-relations are unchanging ('permanent'). My argument, likewise, derived the (phenomenological) conclusion that an experience as of a logical conjunction of irreducible A-theoretic facts cannot amount to an experience of dynamicity, from the (metaphysical) observation that the represented facts amount to amere static juxtaposition of non-dynamic states of affairs. This turns the tables onMcTaggart as far as which series, the Aor the B-series, is fundamental, but it needs not contradict his radical conclusion as to the unreality of time. The arguments I have offered do not show that time is real, nor do they impeach McTaggart's reasons for denying that B-relations are static. What they do show is that if the wannabe A-theorist were to insist, onmetaphysical grounds like McTaggart did, that primitive B-relations could not be intrinsically directed or dynamic in any way, then she will have to agree with McTaggart that time is unreal. Those who so deny that reality is dynamic, however, as I have argued in my The Delusive Illusion of Passage,36 must also further deny (contrary to McTaggart) that it appears to be dynamic. This makes this option even less palatable than it is sometimes believed to be. In a nutshell, I have argued that if, on the one hand, the A-theorist wants to uphold Realism, she must concede that the direct experience of irreducible B-relations is necessary and sufficient for the direct experience of dynamicity. On the other hand, if she abandons Realism, she fatally damages the main allure of her theory, i.e. its alleged phenomenological superiority over the B-theory. EMILIANO BOCCARDI ([email protected]) is postdoctoral associate in the Center for Logic, Epistemology and History of Science of the State University of Campinas. His recent publications include 'Time as Motion' (Metaphysica, 2018), 'The Delusive Illusion of Passage' (with F. Perelda, Analysis, 2017) and 'If it ain't Moving it shall not be Moved' (Topoi, 2015). He guest-edited the special issues Time and Reality I and II (Manuscrito, 2016–17). 36 E. Boccardi and F. Perelda, 'The Delusive Illusion of Passage', Analysis, anx128. https://doi.org/10.1093/analys/anx128, 2017. 16 Emiliano Boccardi
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
MESKAWAYH, ABU ʿALI AḤMAD MESKAWAYH, ABU ʿALI AḤMAD b. Moḥammad [Ebn], Persian chancery official and treasury clerk of the Buyid period, boon companion, litterateur and accomplished writer in Arabic on a variety of topics, including history, theology, philosophy and medicine (d. 421/1030). His name appears variously in the sources as "Ebn Meskawayh" and "Meskawayh," with the former form more probably correct. Although Yāqut, who calls him "Meskawayh," states that he was a convert from Zoroastrianism (II, p. 91), it is more likely that one of his ancestors bore the name "Meskawayh" and converted to Islam before him. At any event, Ebn Meskawayh does not come across at all as a religious zealot in his works, and this was possibly due to the influence of his Magian background on his intellectual formation. Very little is known about his early life. According to the Persian biographer of Shiʿite ulama, Moḥammad-Bāqer Ḵ vānsāri (pp. 70-71), he was born at Ray, and it would seem very likely that he grew up in the province of Jebāl. He must have received training as a kāteb, or secretary (see DABIR), before 340/952, around which time he served as a secretary and boon companion (nadim) to Abu Moḥammad Ḥasan Mohallabi (d. 352/963), the vizier of the Buyid amir Moʿezz-al-Dawla (d. 356/967). He lived mainly in Baghdad and thus enjoyed a wealth of amenities and contacts in what was still the cultural, if not the political, hub of the central and eastern Islamic world. After serving Mohallabi for twelve years he then spent seven years with another major Buyid vizier, Ebn al-ʿAmid (d. 360/971) at the court of Rokn-al-Dawla in Ray. He apparently served both as librarian and keeper of the state papers and archives in the official chancery (the sources usually call him al-ḵāzen, "custodian, keeper," as in Yāqut, II, pp. 88, 95; Ebn al-Qefti, Taʾriḵal-ḥokamāʾ, p. 331; Tawḥidi, p. 346), and also as tutor to the vizier's son, Abu'l-Fatḥ. Ebn Meskawayh himself praises the richness of Ebn al-ʿAmid's library, and he personally saved it from destruction in 355/966, when a band of religious warriors from Khorasan passed through Ray on their way to the Byzantine wars; the library amounted to 100 camel's loads, according to his explicit statement (Margoliouth and Amedroz, Eclipse II, p. 224; V, p. 237). After Ebn al-ʿAmid's death, Ebn Meskawayh probably continued in the service of his son Abu'lFatḥ; in 364/975 he came to Baghdad with Abu'l-Fatḥ and a Buyid army. He rejected an opportunity to serve under the Ṣāḥeb Esmāʿil b. ʿAbbād at Isfahan under Moʾayyed-al-Dawla, since he considered himself at least the equal of the Ṣāḥeb; but soon after 367/978 he entered the service of ʿAżod-al-Dawla (q.v.; d. 372/982) at his court in Shiraz. He must have been already well-acquainted with the emir, since Ebn al-ʿAmid had in the past been his tutor, but now for the first time he found himself directly in his service. He seems to have served as a ḵāzen in the sense of "financial official;" certainly, he always expresses a keen interest in financial matters in his Tajāreb al-omam, making this history a valuable contemporary source on taxation policy and the spread of the eqṭāʿ (q.v.), or land-grant system, in Iraq and western Persia. After ʿAżod-alDawla's death, Ebn Meskawayh probably served under his son Ṣamṣām-al-Dawla (d. 388/998) in Ray, since he is mentioned as one of the boon companions of Ṣamṣām-al-Dawla's vizier, Ebn Saʿdān. Certain sources (e.g. Yāqut, II, p. 90) mention further that he served Bahāʾ-al-Dawla (d. 403/1012; see BUYIDS), Ṣamṣām-al-Dawla's brother and rival in Fārs, though this is not known for certain. The details of Ebn Meskawayh's life are obscure in the period starting from Ebn Saʿdān's execution in 375/985 until his own death at an advanced age on Ṣafar 421/ February 1030 (according to Ḵ vānsāri again, loc. cit.) at Isfahan, then under Kakuid rule. Some vague references in the sources connect him with Ḵ vārazm and its shahs (presumably the Maʾmunids of Gorgānj, 385-408/995-1017, who were the patrons of such eminent scholars of the time as Avicenna and Biruni), but there is no solid evidence for this, and it is remarkable that Ṯaʿālebi, for instance, should not mention his presence there. Ebn Meskawayh had extended his history, the Tajāreb al-omam, up to the year 369/979-80, working on its completion until 372/982-83, but nothing is known for certain about his life after his associations with Ebn Saʿdān and Abu Ḥayyān Tawḥidi. Yāqut (II, pp. 95-96) cites a spiritual testament (waṣiya) of his, but he is probably quoting here from Abu Ḥayyān. Ebn Meskawayh was a prominent figure in the intellectual and cultural life of his time. He engaged in correspondence with figures like Abu Ḥayyān and Badiʿ-al-Zamān Hamaḏāni. He was, it seems, an accomplished writer in the style of badiʿ (rhetorical embellishment) and a fluent poet; examples of his verse are quoted by Ṯaʿālebi in his biographical notice on him (I, pp. 96100). Ebn Meskawayh was also fascinated by alchemy, including the transmutation of base metals, and by the occult sciences. His general attitude towards Islam seems to have been a mild one; he displays a philosophical and somewhat rationalist approach to religion characteristic of certain circles of his time, such as that of the Eḵwān al-Ṣafāʾ (Brethren of Purity) of Baṣra. Another of his interests was medicine, a science much encouraged by his master ʿAżod-al-Dawla; it may well have been for the Buyid amir that he wrote his two works on pharmacology, which are listed by Ebn al-Qefṭi (p. 331) but are not otherwise known. The sources list some nine works by Ebn Meskawayh, including two works on theology and an anthology of poetry. But it was firstly as an historian, and secondly as a writer on philosophy and ethics, that his lasting reputation as an author of major importance was established. His Tajāreb al-omam wa taʿāqeb (or ʿawāqeb) al-hemam ("Experiences of the nations and consequences of high ambitions") is an outstanding piece of work. In form a general history extending as far as the death of ʿAżod-al-Dawla in 372/982, it is remarkable for its secular and philosophical attitude to events. For the period until the early 4th/10th century, he offers an abridgement of Ṭabari's chronicle, dispensing with the annalistic division of the early Islamic period and concentrating on the essentials. From the point where Ṭabari's chronicle comes to an end (302/915) up to the point where his contemporary history begins, Ebn Meskawayh's chief source is the largely lost history of Ṯābet b. Senān of the famous family of Sabians from Ḥarrān. Thereafter he relies on eyewitness reports from contemporaries, such as Mohallabi, Ebn al-ʿAmid, and other secretaries of the Buyids. In his history, Ebn Meskawayh's explicit intention was to point out the practical guidance that examples from history and experience can offer. Hence his contemptuous dismissal, at the outset of the book, of "entertaining stories and idle tales (al-asmār wa'l-ḵorāfāt) which merely have a soporific effect on the reader." Moreover, he openly eschewed dwelling upon the element of religious motivation in history, to the extent that he even omitted the sacred biography of the Prophet himself; as he explained, he was concerned with the achievements of ordinary human beings and not with those achievements, reached with divine or supernatural aid, of saints and prophets, since they can provide no practical guidance for ordinary men (see Rosenthal, pp. 14142). Ebn Meskawayh's major work in the field of philosophy is his Tahḏib al-aḵlāq wa-taṭhir al-aʿrāq. This manual of philosophy and ethics aims to provide the student with a lucid exposition of the main elements of the falsafa (q.v.) tradition. Its success is confirmed by the wide diffusion of the work and the efforts of later scholars in the field of philosophical and practical ethics to build upon its foundations, including Naṣir-al-Din Ṭusi (597-672/1201-74) in his Aḵlāq-e nāṣeri. One should mention here also Ebn Meskawayh's Ketāb al-ḥekma al-ḵāleda ("Book of eternal wisdom"), an Arabic translation of the Persian Jāvidān ḵerad, one manuscript of which bears the title Ketāb ādāb al-ʿArab wa'l-Fors. It is probably the philosophical tinge in all his works that, as Mohammed Arkoun has noted, made Ebn Meskawayh distinctly more acceptable to the Shiʿite Persian cultural milieu than to the more strictly orthodox Sunnite one; he himself could best be characterized as an adherent of philosophical Shiʿism, comparable with the Eḵwān al-Ṣafāʾ. Bibliography: H. F. Amedroz, "Note on the Historian," prefixed to facs. ed. of the Tajāreb al-omam, GMS VII/1, Leiden-London, 1909. ʿĀmeli, Aʿyān al-šiʿa X, Damascus, 1945. M. Arkoun, Miskawayh, philosophe et historien, contribution à l'etude de l'humanisme arabe au IV/X siècle, Paris, 1970. Carl Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, 2 vols., Weimar, 1898-1902,I, pp. 41718, Supplement, 3 vols., Leiden, 1937-42, I, pp. 582-84. D. M. Donaldson, Studies in Muslim Ethics, London, 1953, pp. 121-33. Ebn al-Qefṭi, Taʾriḵ al-ḥokamāʾ, ed. J. Lippert, Leipzig, 1903, p. 331. M. ʿA. ʿEzzat, Ebn Meskawayh, Cairo, 1946. M. S. Khan, "The Eyewitness Reporters of Miskawaih's Contemporary History," Islamic Culture 38, 1964, pp. 295-313. Idem, "Miskawaih and Ṯābit ibn Sinān," ZDMG 117, 1967, pp. 303-17. Idem, "Miskawayh and the Buwayhids," Oriens 21-22, 1968-69, pp. 235-47. Idem, "Miskawaih and Arabic historiography," JAOS 89, 1969, pp. 710-30. Moḥammad-Bāqer Ḵ vānsāri, Rawżāt al-jannāt, Tehran, 1307/1889-90, pp. 70-71. D. S. Margoliouth, Lectures on Arabic Historians, Calcutta, 1930, pp. 128-37. D. S. Margoliouth and H. F. Amedroz, eds. and trs., The Eclipse of the Abbasid Caliphate: Original Chronicles of the Fourth Islamic Century, 7 vols., Oxford, 1921-22. F. Rosenthal, A History of Muslim Historiography, 2nd ed., Leiden, 1968. Abu Ḥayyān Tawḥidi, Aḵlāq al-wazirayn, ed. M. Ṭanji, Damascus, n.d., p. 346. Ṯaʿālebi, Tatemmat al-yatima, ed. ʿAbbās Eqbāl, Tehran, 1353/1934, I, pp. 96-100 . Yāqut b. ʿAbd-Allāh Ḥamawi, Moʿjam al-odabāʾ, ed. D. S. Margoliouth as Eršād-al-arib elā maʿrefat al-adib, 7 vols., Leiden and London, 1907-27, II, pp. 88-96. (C. Edmund Bosworth) Originally Published: July 20, 2002 Last Updated: June 16, 2017 Cite this entry: C. Edmund Bosworth, "MESKAWAYH, ABU ʿALI AḤMAD," Encyclopaedia Iranica, online edition, 2002, available at http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/meskavayh-abu-ali-ahmad (accessed on 20 September 2016).
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
PHRONESIS E VIRTUDE DO CARÁTER EM ARISTÓTELES: COMENTÁRIOS A ÉTICA A NICÔMACO VI1 Lucas Angioni Universidade Estadual de Campinas/CNPq ABSTRACT: I examine step by step Aristotle's argument in Nicomachean Ethics VI with the aim of understanding how phronesis and its correct reason determine the intermediacies so that a virtuous person is able to effectively perform his actions according to his purposes. In order to determine the intermediacies, phronesis involves a good use of deliberative reasoning but also a quasi-perceptual evaluation of singular factors on which every action depends. I claim that this second task attributed to phronesis allows us a better understanding of its definition as "praktike" as well as of its interdependency with moral virtue. KEYWORDS: moral virtue, prudence, practical wisdom, reason, intermediacy, prohairesis. RESUMO: Procuro examinar passo a passo a argumentação desenvolvida por Aristóteles no livro VI da Ética a Nicômaco, buscando compreender de que modo a razão correta da phronesis delimita as mediedades e garante a efetiva realização das ações conforme aos propósitos da virtude do caráter. Essa delimitação das mediedades parece envolver duas camadas: o uso do raciocínio deliberativo para a determinação de propósitos (prohaireseis), e a avaliação dos fatores singulares envolvidos nas circunstâncias de cada ação. À luz disso, compreendemos melhor a definição da phronesis como "realizadora de ação" (praktike), bem como sua interdependência em relação à virtude do caráter. PALAVRAS-CHAVE: virtude moral, prudência, sensatez, razão, mediedade, prohairesis. 1 Versão preliminar destes comentários foi discutida em Agosto de 2011 em seminários realizados na UFRGS. Agradeço a Raphael Zillig, Inara Zanuzzi e Priscilla Spinelli por terem me dado essa oportunidade de discussão. Suas inúmeras críticas, sugestões e objeções muito contribuíram para aprimorar a versão final. Agradeço também aos alunos Fernando Martins Mendonça, Marcos Peraçoli e Breno Zupollini por diversas observações sobre a tradução e os comentários. © Dissertatio [34] 303 – 345 verão de 2011 Lucas Angioni 304 INTRODUÇÃO O livro VI da Ética a Nicômaco pode ser entendido como um tratado sobre a phronesis ("prudência", "sabedoria prática" ou, como preferi traduzir, "sensatez"). Muito se discute a origem desse livro: pertenceria ele à Ethica Nicomachea ou à Ethica Eudemia? Essa questão depende de como avaliamos a discussão sobre a virtude moral nos livros precedentes – quer na Ethica Nicomachea ou na Ethica Eudemia –, e como compreendemos as discrepâncias entre essas duas obras. Os comentários que aqui oferecemos não examinam essas questões, nem pressupõem respostas determinadas para as mesmas. Estaríamos mais inclinados a tomar o "tratado sobre a phronesis" como pertencente à Ethica Eudemia, pois algumas similaridades na formulação das questões e no uso do jargão são bem evidentes. O primeiro capítulo do "tratado sobre a phronesis", por exemplo, parece ser anunciado em EE 1222b7-8: "devemos investigar mais tarde o que é a razão correta, bem como qual é a delimitação [horos] que se deve observar para estabelecer a mediedade". O uso do jargão "horos" (no sentido de "delimitação" ou "limite" das mediedades) ocorre em diversas outras passagens: 1222a17, 1249a21-23 (cf. EN 1138b22-25), 1149b23. O uso do jargão "skopos" ("alvo") em conexão com as mediedades e com a razão correta também aparece várias vezes (1226b30, 1227b20-24, 1249b24), contra apenas uma ocorrência relevante na EN (1106b32). A discussão das virtudes naturais é anunciada em EE 1234a27-30. Além do mais, a similaridade entre EN VI 1 e o trecho EE 1149a21-b6 é tão grande que dá a este último a aparência de pastiche do primeiro, com a repetição literal, em 1249a6, do mesmo lema "isto é verdadeiro, mas não é claro", que ocorre em 1138b25-26. Não obstante, não faltam argumentos para defender que o tratado da phronesis pertence à Ethica Nicomachea. Estudo mais meticuloso da razão correta também é anunciado e prometido em EN 1103b32-34. Além disso, a definição de virtude do caráter dada em EN 1106b36-1107a2 é muito mais apropriada às discussões empreendidas no "tratado da phronesis" do que a definição dada em EE 1227b8-10, pois nesta última não se faz nenhuma referência à razão correta, nem ao "phronimos". De modo similar, a discussão sobre as dificuldades em se estabelecer a "mediedade correta" é muito mais detalhada em EN II (1106b8-35; 1109a24 ss.; 1109b14-23 = EN IV, 1126a34 ss.) do que em EE II, de modo que seria mais verossímil julgar que a primeira, não a segunda, exige e justifica a discussão mais pormenorizada sobre a razão correta do phronimos. Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 305 Devemos notar, porém, que a questão da origem de EN VI pode não ser tão relevante, pois não vemos nenhuma distância intransponível entre as duas obras no que concerne aos assuntos que focalizamos nos comentários. Alguns dizem que o tratamento da prohairesis é bem distinto em cada uma das obras, mas considero tal juízo fruto de incompreensões sobre os argumentos de ambas: a prohairesis é descrita do mesmo modo em EE 1226b17 e EN 1113a10-11, e a concordância da letra, neste caso, é acompanhada pela concordância da teoria. Outras discrepâncias entre as duas obras, como as diferentes definições de virtude do caráter, podem ser muito bem compreendidas e justificadas pelas diferenças de interesse em cada contexto argumentativo. Em nosso juízo, o livro VI da Ethica Nicomachea é um texto razoavelmente coeso, no qual um projeto argumentativo é anunciado explicitamente e, apesar de percalços e lacunas, cumprido em suas linhas gerais. Esse projeto consiste em examinar a noção de phronesis e dizer como ela se relaciona com a virtude do caráter e com a promoção da eudaimonia. Mas tal descrição do projeto é ainda vaga. É bem verdade que Aristóteles pretende elucidar de que modo a phronesis colabora com a virtude do caráter na promoção da eudaimonia (cf. 1144a6-9). Mas o que Aristóteles pretende fazer é, mais precisamente, elucidar de que modo as mediedades – as quais eram um dos fatores proeminentes na definição de virtude do caráter (cf. EN 1106b36-1107a2, EE 1227b8-10) – são delimitadas pela "razão correta" que caracteriza a phronesis (cf. 1138b25-26, 34). De certo modo, Aristóteles também está a retomar o estudo das virtudes que compõem a "virtude do ser humano em seu todo" (cf. 1144a5) e, dado que finalizou o estudo das virtudes do caráter, passa ao estudo das virtudes intelectuais (1139a1-2). Por isso, o livro VI inclui capítulos cujos assuntos são apenas extrinsecamente conectados com a relação entre phronesis e virtude do caráter. O foco principal, no entanto, consiste em discutir o que é o "orthos logos" pelo qual a phronesis delimita as mediedades e garante a realização de ações virtuosas propriamente ditas. Em vista desse interesse, Aristóteles retoma a divisão das partes da alma e divide a parte racional em duas, para caracterizar a phronesis como uma virtude da parte calculativa (1139a14-17, 1140b26). A segunda etapa consiste em caracterizar como a phronesis é "realizadora de ações" (praktike, 1140b5, 1141b16, 21). Se a delimitação da mediedade feita pela phronesis é o que garante a efetiva realização da ação, cumpre determinar qual é a relação Lucas Angioni 306 da phronesis com a prohairesis, pois esta última é o princípio motivador que leva a agir (1139a31 ss.). A prohairesis envolve desejo e pensamento – desejo por um fim concebido como um bem, pensamento sobre as condições apropriadas para a realização desse fim (1139a23-26). Ao ressaltar o papel da prohairesis como fator de motivação que leva à ação, Aristóteles quer abrir o caminho para elucidar de que modo a phronesis, uma virtude intelectual, é "praktike": a phronesis é uma virtude intelectual que, acolhendo o fim correto adotado pela virtude do caráter, determina as condições efetivamente apropriadas para a realização desse fim (cf. 1144a28-31), para além do propósito ou da intenção de agir bem (1144a20-22). A caracterização da phronesis como virtude intelectual é auxiliada por estudo bem esquemático das demais capacidades pelas quais a alma acerta a verdade: ciência, técnica, sabedoria e inteligência. O objetivo preponderante de Aristóteles parece ser caracterizar a phronesis como uma virtude intelectual cujo traço mais relevante – mas não exclusivo – seria a avaliação correta das circunstâncias singulares das quais depende a efetiva realização de cada ação virtuosa (cf. 1142a23-30; 1143a32-33). O caráter efetivo e eficaz da phronesis, no entanto, não pode ser separado da compreensão dos fins moralmente bons. A phronesis envolve o fim correto adotado pelo caráter virtuoso e, portanto, não pode ocorrer separadamente da virtude do caráter (1144a29-b1, b31-32). Por outro lado, sua tarefa propriamente intelectual – determinar a mediedade em atenção aos fatores singulares relevantes em cada ação – parece envolver duas camadas: a boa deliberação (1140a25-28, 1143a31-32), pela qual se formulam propósitos ainda gerais, e a percepção dos extremos (1142a26-30, 1143b5), dos quais depende imediatamente a realização da ação moral. No entanto, embora seja uma virtude intelectual, a phronesis é orientada à consecução das ações conforme ao propósito (1144a20-22; 29-b1): o pensamento pelo qual ela se constitui é um pensamento cujo princípio é o desejo envolvido em um bom propósito (1144a20-22, 1145a4-6) e cuja função é garantir a realização efetiva desse propósito (1144a20-22). Muito do que Aristóteles diz no livro VI da Ethica Nicomachea é sucinto, de difícil compreensão e sujeito às mais variadas controvérsias. O desenvolvimento argumentativo do texto não é tão contínuo, nem tão transparente, como acima o descrevemos. Julgamos, no entanto, que a argumentação emprendida por Aristóteles se torna bem mais inteligível se lhe atribuímos esses interesses e fios condutores. Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 307 Comentários a EN VI 1138b21: "habilitação" traduz "hexis". As outras opções disponíveis seriam "disposição" e "condição". No uso técnico que Aristóteles faz desse termo no terreno de sua teoria moral, dois fatores são proeminentes: (I) "hexis" remete às disposições internas do agente – o modo pelo qual o agente lida com os desejos, as emoções, os prazeres e as dores, ao efetuar uma ação ou passar por uma dada situação; (II) "hexis" remete a uma capacidade de agir sedimentada no agente pela prática habitual das mesmas ações que caem sob o domínio dessa capacidade. Esses dois fatores se ligam a dois usos do verbo "echo": o uso de expressões como "pôs echein" (cf. 1105a31; 1144a18); o uso do verbo "echo" como auxiliar, complementado por infinitivo, no sentido de "ter o poder de", "ser apto/ habilitado a". "Condição" é um termo muito fraco para captar qualquer um desses dois fatores e, além do mais, sugere algo meramente transitório ou momentâneo, ao passo que a hexis é algo constante. "Disposição" é um termo mais apropriado ao primeiro fator, ao passo que "habilitação" é mais apropriado ao segundo. Escolhemos "habilitação" por julgar que, nos contextos mais importantes do livro VI, o fator (II) é mais importante que o fator (I), mas reconhecemos que "disposição" seria tradução mais acertada para alguns contextos (p. ex. 1120b9, 1127b2, 15). 1138b22: "alvo": o termo grego é "skopos". Para muitos comentadores e tradutores, esta ocorrência do termo "skopos" remete a sua ocorrência em EN I, 1094a24, na qual ele designa o alvo de um arqueiro e, por analogia, introduz o sumo bem, que logo mais será identificado à eudaimonia. Mas essa associação entre as duas ocorrências não parece acertada e, além do mais, introduz sérias conseqüências na compreensão do que vem a ser a phronesis e seu papel fundamental na determinação das ações virtuosas e na realização da eudaimonia. Por tal associação entre essas duas ocorrências de "skopos", pode-se sugerir que a phronesis, responsável pela delimitação mais precisa desse "alvo", seja capaz de produzir conhecimento mais determinado sobre a eudaimonia no sentido de ser capaz de justificar melhor a ação virtuosa. No entanto, há outra ocorrência de "skopos" que é muito mais útil para compreender os propósitos de Aristóteles no livro VI a respeito das tarefas apropriadas à phronesis. Em 1106b32, "skopos" remete à mediedade, que é o alvo (e fim) a ser atingido em cada ação virtuosa. Aristóteles afirma insistentemente que é difícil acertar esse alvo, porque sua determinação Lucas Angioni 308 depende da consideração judiciosa de uma série de fatores singulares, que não podem ser controlados de modo decisivo por nenhum cálculo racional prévio. Justamente nesse contexto, Aristóteles insiste que a determinação da mediedade cai sob a alçada do phronimos (1107a1-2). Ora, é exatamente esse problema que o livro VI assume como assunto, em 1138b18-20. Além do mais, relacionar as ocorrências de "skopos" em 1138b22 e 1106b32 também permite compreender de modo consistente e razoável a ocorrência do mesmo termo no trecho 1144a6-9. (O uso de "skopos" em EE II 11 também favorece nossa interpretação). 1138b25: "razão correta" traduz "orthos logos", expressão que é objeto de controvérsia. Alguns julgam que se trata de uma regra ou máxima de ação que se impõe (ou se aplica) em uma dada circunstância singular. Muitas ocorrências da expressão parecem favorecer essa leitura (cf. 1119a20; 1138a10; 1147b3, 1151a11, 21, 22). No entanto, é muito mais justo compreender "orthos logos" como um procedimento – pois não se trata nem de uma regra já pronta, nem de um padrão fixo. Trata-se do procedimento pelo qual a parte calculativa da alma, da qual a phronesis é a virtude, submete um "alvo" (suposto como fim) a uma delimitação ulterior, que o especifica de modo mais claro e adequado aos casos particulares. Esse procedimento de delimitação e especificação parece envolver duas camadas: primeiro, a delimitação, por cálculo deliberativo, dos modos aptos a realizar o fim; segundo, a avaliação dos fatores relevantes envolvidos nas circunstâncias singulares de cada ação. Outra questão é qual a expressão em português que melhor captaria essa noção. Talvez "cômputo correto", "cálculo correto" ou "avaliação correta" sejam boas opções de tradução. Mas o que é mais importante é que a expressão deve ser compreendida do modo acima sugerido: como um procedimento racional, quer pelo raciocínio propriamente dito, quer pela inteligência ou percepção dos extremos. Outro ponto relevante é que a expressão muda de sentido conforme a argumentação progride. Em contextos preliminares da EN, como 1103b32-33, "orthos logos" parece ser uma expressão de uso comum, mas cujo sentido preciso ainda cabe delimitar. Em 1144b29-30, Aristóteles parece propor uma mudança também no sentido do termo "logos": para Sócrates, se tratava de um acervo de proposições verdadeiras, ou algo assim; já para Aristóteles, se trata do uso apropriado da parte calculativa da alma. Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 309 1138b23, 34: "delimitação": as duas ocorrências de "horos" não precisam ter o mesmo significado – pois é comum, no texto de Aristóteles, um mesmo termo variar de sentido no contexto de uma mesma argumentação. Não obstante, neste caso, tomo as duas ocorrências de "horos" no mesmo sentido, que é o de delimitação ulterior e mais precisa. Em 1138b22-23, "skopos" introduz o propósito mais geral que motiva a ação, ao passo que "horos" introduz uma delimitação mais precisa desse propósito pela avaliação correta (orthos logos) dos fatores relevantes envolvidos na circunstância singular da ação. Já em 1139a34, "horos" se contrói com o genitivo "toutou", que remete a "orthos logos". Interpreto o genitivo como subjetivo (possessivo), não como objetivo: Aristóteles propõe, como meta do livro VI, determinar melhor em que consiste essa delimitação mais precisa que a phronesis, pelo orthos logos (avaliação correta dos fatores sigulares etc.), impõe ao alvo genérico adotado pela virtude do caráter. Rejeito, assim, a intepretação de "horos" em 1138b34 no sentido técnico de definição, como se Aristóteles estivesse anunciando o propósito de definir a phronesis. Cumpre esclarecer, ainda, que a expressão "fatores singulares", ou equivalentes, será usada nestes comentários para designar os fatores circunstanciais dos quais depende a realização de cada ação, os quais Aristóteles identifica apenas de modo bem esquemático, seja ao explicar em que consiste a mediedade (cf. 1106b21-22, 1109a28, b 15-16, 1120b20-21, 1125b31-32), seja ao examinar a noção de voluntário (cf. 1111a3-6): quando se deve agir; em quais situações; envolvendo quais indivíduos; com que fim; como; por quanto tempo etc. 1138b32-34: no contexto, o que Aristóteles está a propor é claro. Assim como, para um médico encarregado de decidir qual medida deve tomar para recuperar a saúde deste paciente singular, é inadmissível fiar-se apenas na prescrição genérica e dizer "devo ministrar a este doente as coisas que produzem saúde e as que a medicina lhe prescreveria", do mesmo modo, para um agente encarregado de decidir o que deve fazer para realizar uma ação virtuosa, é inadmissível fiar-se apenas no preceito genérico e dizer "devo fazer as coisas que realizam o bem e as que o phronimos faria". Isso não quer dizer que a prescrição e o preceito genéricos são falsos. Isso apenas quer dizer que a prescrição e o preceito genéricos são inadequadamente vagos e ineficazes para determinar a ação. Por isso, em ambos os casos, deve-se acrescentar uma delimitação ulterior e mais precisa do "alvo", pela Lucas Angioni 310 consideração correta dos fatores relevantes – num caso, deve-se determinar mais precisamente em que consiste recobrar a saúde, em tais e tais circunstâncias; noutro, deve-se determinar mais precisamente em que consistem o bem e a mediedade, em tal e tal circunstância singular. Em suma: não basta que o preceito genérico seja verdadeiro, mas é preciso delimitá-lo mais precisamente. Essa é a tarefa que Aristóteles assume no livro VI: explicar em que consiste a especificação ulterior do "alvo", que é efetuada pela avaliação correta dos fatores singulares. Do ponto de vista filológico, é preciso esclarecer que entendo "tout' eiremenon" ("esse tipo de enunciado") como algo que se refere aos enunciados que, em minha tradução, ficaram entre aspas, ou seja, os enunciados verdadeiros, porém vagos e insuficientes do ponto de vista prático, como: "não se deve trabalhar em maior ou menor quantidade, mas sim em quantidade média e tal como a razão correta diz"; "deve-se administrar aquelas coisas que a medicina ordena e tal como o ordena quem conhece a medicina" – todos eles análogos ao enunciado que é o motivo inicial de EN VI: "é preciso escolher a mediedade, não o excesso, nem a falta, e a mediedade é como a razão correta diz" (1138b18-20). 1139a18: "inteligência" traduz "nous", mas, nesta passagem, Aristóteles emprega esse termo de modo mais vago, como equivalente a "dianoia" (pensamento) – como mostra a continuação do argumento, em 1139a21, em que temos "dianoia", não "nous". Esse uso mais amplo de "nous" é freqüente em Aristóteles: ver 1139a33, 1139b4 e 1139b12 (para o adjetivo "noetikon"). 1139a23: "propósito": cabe explicar por que traduzi prohairesis como "propósito", em detrimento de opções mais aceitas, como "decisão", "escolha" ou "escolha deliberada". O primeiro ponto relevante consiste em notar que "prohairesis", no mais das vezes, não designa um processo ou episódio mental, mas o resultado de um processo. Aristóteles usa duas palavras distintas, "prohairesis" e "prohaireton" (1113a4), e talvez se pudesse dizer que a primeira designa um processo e a segunda, o resultado ou objeto desse processo. No entanto, as coisas não se passam assim. Tal como "protasis" designa a proposição como pretensão de verdade, e não o processo pelo qual alguém propõe algo para discussão, de modo similar, "prohairesis" designa, preferencialmente, um desejo resultante de uma deliberação que Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 311 considerou certas condições para a realização de seu objeto – em vez de designar o procedimento mediante o qual se obtém esse desejo. Como fica claro neste capítulo, a prohairesis consiste em algo complexo, que envolve desejo e pensamento. De um lado, a prohairesis envolve desejo por um fim, assumido como bem realizável pelo agente; de outro, ela envolve um raciocínio deliberativo que, assumindo como ponto de partida o fim eleito pelo desejo, calcula o modo pelo qual tal fim poderia vir a ser realizado. Obviamente, esse modo de realização do fim também se torna objeto do desejo (em vista de outra coisa, do fim), e esse desejo mais determinado é motivo que leva à ação. No entanto, a prohairesis, embora seja "causa eficiente da ação" (1139a31), não é ainda o item último na determinação da ação – e este parece-me ser o ponto de Aristóteles neste capítulo. Pelo lado do pensamento, a prohairesis envolve apenas uma determinação genérica sobre o que fazer em geral, a qual, para a realização de cada ação, será completada ou preenchida pelo cômputo correto dos fatores singulares envolvidos nas circunstâncias da ação – cômputo correto que é da alçada da phronesis. De fato, no instante em que se executa a ação, é o desejo contido na prohairesis que move o agente, mas isso não implica que o resultado da deliberação prévia não seja ulteriormente determinado pela consideração mais apurada de fatores circunstanciais. Ou seja, a prohairesis é ainda insuficiente por si mesma para levar à ação: ela deixa em aberto a consideração dos fatores singulares dos quais depende a realização de cada ação. Se isso está correto, a prohairesis não pode designar uma decisão pontual que se faz no instante em que se executa a ação – decisão pontual que dá preferência a tais e tais fatores singulares, em detrimento de outros. Antes, a prohairesis designa uma opção ainda genérica, na qual se elegeu um fim e na qual já foram considerados e determinados (por deliberação) alguns modos para a realização desse fim, mas sem atenção às circunstâncias singulares de cada ação. A prohairesis, assim, abre o terreno para a phronesis, que é responsável por avaliar esses fatores singulares. Por isso, a prohairesis ocupa uma posição intermediária: assumindo um fim acolhido pelo desejo, ela passa a desejar os modos que a deliberação julgou apropriados para realizar esse fim. No entanto, esses modos de realização do fim funcionam, no contexto de cada ação, como "alvo" a ser ulteriormente determinado pela avaliação dos fatores singulares. Não é despropositada, portanto, a associação entre prohairesis e o "alvo" ou "fim" da ação (cf. EN 1144a7-8, 20; EE 1227b12-13 ss.), e isso em nada contradiz a tese de que a prohairesis tem por Lucas Angioni 312 objeto as coisas que realizam os fins. Se tomei a resolução de diminuir meu consumo de cerveja no próximo verão, é claro que esse propósito pode ser considerado (I) ou como meio para realizar o fim de preservar minha saúde e meu bom condicionamento físico, (II) ou como "alvo" (e fim) que deverei almejar em cada decisão singular a ser tomada no próximo verão. Por envolver um desejo constante por um fim, a prohairesis determina também a qualidade moral da ação: ela carrega consigo um "alvo" (skopos) já dotado de significado moral, e que deve ser determinado de modo mais preciso pela avaliação acertada (orthos logos) dos fatores singulares relevantes. A prohairesis é algo persistente (e não um processo eventual), no sentido de que ela define uma linha constante de ação, a ser adotada em vários casos, ao passo que, em cada circunstância singular, mudam as apreciações mais precisas que a phronesis faz no intento de levar à ação – por exemplo, hoje a phronesis me levou a beber duas taças de vinho, ontem, a phronesis me levou a beber nenhuma, mas foi o mesmo propósito que me levou a beber duas ontem e nenhuma hoje, o propósito de ser temperante, ou melhor, o de beber a quantia acertada para preservar a mediedade nos prazeres. Qual é, porém, a quantia acertada em cada caso, é algo que fica ainda em aberto na formulação do propósito. A prohairesis, assim, envolve as seguintes características: (I) não designa um processo psicológico, mas uma resolução cujo prospecto é uma linha de ação constante; (II) é o mais importante para determinar a qualidade moral da ação; (III) não é um evento pontual a ocorrer no momento da ação; (IV) ocupa uma posição intermediária, que já envolve determinação preliminar sobre "meios", mas que funciona como "alvo" (fim) a ser especificado pela consideração sensata dos fatores singulares relevantes em cada ação. O conjunto de todas essas características parece ser mais bem captado por "propósito", pois (III) e (IV) são bem desfavoráveis às opções "decisão" e "escolha". Opção melhor seria "intenção", que ao menos captaria bem os pontos (II) e (IV). Essa interpretação da prohairesis, além do mais, permite entender perfeitamente as ocorrências "não-técnicas" do termo (por exemplo, 1102a13) e mostra que o jargão aristotélico, como em vários outros casos, está bem enraizado no uso comum. 1139a27: "realizador(a) de ação" traduz "praktike". Não é conveniente traduzir por "prático(a)", pois esta expressão é vaga e abstrata, ao passo que o valor do adjetivo em grego é muito claro e preciso: se diz de algum fulano Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 313 que ele é "praktikos" quando ele é empreendedor, imerso no mundo da ação (1095b22) e, mais precisamente, quando ele tem sucesso constante na consecução das ações que se propõe a fazer (1101b32, 1134a2, 1152a9). O sentido central de "praktikos", portanto, é o de realizador eficaz (cf. 1124b25, 1129a8). A virtude do caráter é "praktike" no sentido de que é "realizadora das melhores coisas relativas a prazeres e dores" (1104b27-28). Do mesmo modo, o "sensato" (phronimos) é "praktikos" porque é usualmente eficaz na consecução de suas ações e propósitos, ao contrário do acrático (cf. 1146a7-9; 1152a8-9). A "verdade prática" (ver nota seguinte) é acordo tal entre desejo e pensamento que é eficaz na consecução do que se almejou. Outras opções de tradução, supostamente mais próximas da etimologia, como "atuante", são claramente inviáveis, e "fazedor" soa muito informal. A opção "produtor de ação" deve ser evitada neste contexto para evitar confusão com "produtiva" (poietike) em 1139a28 e b1. 1139a26-27: "verdade realizadora de ação [praktike]" é o acordo entre desejo e pensamento: se desejo fazer A, o pensamento deve determinar em que consiste, em tais e tais circunstâncias, realizar A. Como função do pensamento teórico, a verdade se perfaz quando o pensamento atinge adequadamente o objeto a que se dirige. Mas, no plano do pensamento que se soma ao desejo e almeja produzir ação, a função só se efetiva quando se alcança o objetivo almejado, que é efetuar uma ação que realiza o objeto do desejo. A "verdade", nesse caso não pode ser concebida como mera correção moral dos enunciados práticos (seja das máximas gerais, seja dos preceitos singulares), mas deve ser entendida como plena e efetiva realização da ação desejada conforme a eficácia do pensamento na determinação do modo pelo qual se pôde alcançar o objeto do desejo. Se o sensato (phronimos) alcança a "verdade prática", é porque sua correta avaliação dos fatores relevantes em cada circunstância singular o levaram a realizar, em última instância, exatamente aquilo que era desejado no propósito. Ver nota a 1140b4-6. 1139a31-32: "como 'aquilo de onde procede o movimento', não como 'em vista de que'": Aristóteles apenas assinala que, no contexto deste argumento, a prohairesis é considerada como causa eficiente, não como causa final da ação. Disso não se segue que a prohairesis não possa ser jamais descrita pelo vocabulário da causalidade final e, portanto, disso não se segue nenhum argumento contra a tradução de "prohairesis" por "propósito". Lucas Angioni 314 Comparação entre passagens como 1144a6-9, 1144a20-22 e EE 1227b36ss., mostram que o propósito pode ser descrito como "alvo" a ser ulteriormente determinado pela avaliação dos fatores singulares. Além do mais, é óbvio que o propósito é causa eficiente apenas porque envolve a causa final, ou seja, porque envolve o desejo por um fim. Aristóteles aqui ressalta que o propósito é causa eficiente (sem ressaltar que é causa final) porque seu objetivo consiste em elucidar de que modo a phronesis é "realizadora de ações". Sua intenção última consiste em mostrar que a eficácia na realização de ações vai além do propósito e exige o cômputo correto dos fatores singulares envolvidos na circunstância de cada ação. 1139b4-5: "um pensamento que deseja, ou um desejo com pensamento": as duas descrições não são excludentes: Aristóteles parece propô-las como descrições igualmente satisfatórias da prohairesis. Traduzi "nous" como "pensamento" por julgar que, neste caso (bem como em 1139a18), Aristóteles emprega o termo não no sentido mais estrito especificado em 1141a5, 7, mas em sentido mais amplo, que equivale à noção mais geral e vaga de pensamento ("dianoia"). Cf. EE 1227a4-5, onde Aristóteles descreve a prohairesis em termos de opinião (doxa) e desejo (orexis). 1139b15-17: este passo do argumento parece ser objeto da alusão que encontramos em Segundos Analíticos 89b7-9. 1139b18-24: a descrição da ciência aqui oferecida é bem esquemática e, se não diverge do painel fornecido nos Segundos Analíticos, também não o resume de maneira precisa. Nos Analíticos, a definição de ciência se perfaz por duas noções básicas, a de causa e a de necessidade (71b9-12); já na Ética, em vez de introduzir a noção de causa, Aristóteles se concentra na noção de necessidade e parece concebê-la não como atributo das relações causais, mas como atributo de um "reino de coisas" que por familiaridade se tornaria conhecido à alma (cf. 1139a10-11). Além do mais, nos Analíticos, Aristóteles introduz seis requisitos para as premissas de uma demonstração científica (71b20-33), dos quais apenas um ("serem mais conhecidas que a conclusão") é retomado na Ética. Finalmente, Aristóteles introduz em EN VI um aspecto que estava completamente ausente dos Analíticos, que é a caracterização da ciência como habilitação para demonstrar. Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 315 No entanto, apesar dessas divergências, não há nenhuma evidência para tratar as duas caracterizações da ciência como incompatíveis ou radicalmente discrepantes. Aristóteles explicitamente se refere aos Analíticos (1139a27) e retoma, ainda que de modo esquemático, observações lá feitas e jargão lá contido. A diferença de perspectiva entre as duas obras explica e justifica perfeitamente as divergências: podemos dizer que, (I) na Ética, Aristóteles não precisa fornecer um cômputo detalhado da noção de ciência, pois lhe basta uma caracterização em traços gerais; (II) como ele está a falar das habilitações e virtudes das partes da alma e tem por interesse principal caracterizar a phronesis como uma habilitação racional para agir etc., é natural que ele fale também da ciência como uma habilitação (o que, afinal, está longe de ser incompatível com os Analíticos – texto que é bem neutro no que diz respeito ao estatuto psicológico a ser atribuído ao conhecimento científico); (III) dado que ele está interessado em introduzir a phronesis como virtude da parte calculativa da alma, e como uma virtude que não produz (nem poderia produzir) nenhum acervo de preceitos gerais, mas apenas avalia corretamente os fatores contingentes envolvidos em cada ação singular, é razoável que Aristóteles dê mais atenção à polaridade entre aquilo que é necessário (e pode ser captado por enunciados universais) e aquilo que pode ser de outro modo (cf. 1140a3-b3). Por outro lado, o silêncio de Aristóteles sobre a noção de causa pode, talvez, ser significativo: se ele estivesse interessado em realçar que a phronesis é uma virtude capaz de justificar a ação virtuosa por uma compreensão adequada dos fins etc., não seria de se esperar que ele destacasse, em seu breve resumo da noção de ciência, a noção de causa? Parece que a noção de causa teria, como análogo no domínio ético, a noção de fim como motivo último da ação: assim como a causa é o que explica porque a proposição p é verdadeira, de modo similar o fim é o que explica porque a ação a é desejável e moralmente boa. 1139b26-27: "como dizemos nos Analíticos": cf. 71a1-11. 1139b32-33: "todas as outras coisas que acrescentamos nos Analíticos": é difícil dizer a que Aristóteles se refere precisamente, pois muitos pontos relevantes foram deixados de lado em sua breve caracterização da ciência na Ética. Nada se falou, por exemplo, sobre a noção de causa (71b9-12, 22, 30; 75a35; 78a25 ss.; 85b23-27 ss.; 90a6-7; 93a4ss.; 98a35.ss), nem sobre os seis requisitos das premissas (71b19-72a7), nem sobre a noção de princípios Lucas Angioni 316 adequados (71b22-23; 72a5-6; 74b25-26; 75b37 ss.); nem sobre as predicações per se (73a34-b26); nem sobre o requisito da coextensividade entre atributoexplanans e atributo-explanandum (73b26-74b4; 78b16-21; 98a35-36 ss.); nem sobre a exigência de homogeneidade entre os três termos da demonstração (75a38ss.; 76a8-9; 29-30); etc. O fato de Aristóteles se referir à existência de outros requisitos usados nos Analíticos para definir a ciência mostra que, na Ética, ele pretende apenas introduzir um resumo muito esquemático, apropriado aos seus interesses argumentativos no contexto. 1139b35: "terá ciência apenas por algum concomitante": cf. o uso de expressão semelhante em Segundos Analíticos 71b10 e 76a2, 4. 1140a1-6: Aristóteles introduz uma distinção entre ação – aquilo que nós fazemos racionalmente (sem envolver necessariamente o engendramento de um produto distinto da ação) – e produção – um conjunto de operações racionais que conduzimos para engendrar um produto distinto da ação. Essa distinção deve ser avaliada com ponderação. Apesar do que Aristóteles diz em 1140a5-6, não se trata de uma divisão extensional entre dois reinos de coisas incompatíveis, entre os quais não pudesse haver nenhuma sobreposição. Ackrill [1978] explorou o problema de forma clássica: uma produção qualquer, como consertar a cerca de sua casa, pode ser considerada como uma ação, suscetível de avaliação moral. Ou seja, um mesmo evento pode ser tomado ou como produção ou como ação, dependendo da perspectiva em que é considerado. Por outro lado, apesar de introduzir essa distinção entre "poiesis" e "praxis", Aristóteles não a segue de modo sistemático no uso que de fato faz desses termos, bem como dos verbos correlatos "poiein" e "prattein"; antes, ele segue a praxe comum no grego ordinário: ações são descritas por ambos os verbos ou expressões cognatas (cf. 1137a19, 22-23; 1107a17; 1123a16-17; 1135b27; 1136b31; 1137a22-23; 1143b26; 1147a28; 1152a16; EE 1227a29); operações certamente não-racionais, como o funcionamento de órgãos animais, são denominadas "praxeis" (cf. Partes dos Animais 645b21, 28 ss.) etc. 1140a10: "habilitação para produzir com raciocínio verdadeiro": em outras palavras, uma capacidade de produzir algo por meio de procedimentos que seguem descrições verdadeiras dos objetos (tanto do objeto a ser Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 317 produzido, como também dos materiais a serem utilizados) e prescrições acertadas para modificar esses materiais em vista do que se quer produzir. 1140a10-11: "toda técnica diz respeito ao vir a ser": cf. Segundos Analíticos 100a9. 1140a15-16: "estas têm em si mesmas o princípio": cf. Física 192b1314. 1140a17-20: "a técnica ama o acaso, e o acaso, a técnica etc.": o sabor original da sentença fia-se na consonância entre techne e tuche, o qual talvez pudesse ter sido mais bem captado se tivéssemos usado os termos "arte" e "sorte". O verso de Agatão lembra o dito de Polo em Górgias 448c, citado em Metafísica 981a3-4. 1140a21-22: "a incompetência técnica é o contrário, uma habilitação para produzir com raciocínio falso": talvez seja correto descrever a incompetência técnica como uma falha teórica: o incompetente usa alguma descrição falsa dos objetos relevantes (produtos ou materiais), ou se fia em uma regra que descreve erroneamente o processo requisitado para modificar os materiais do modo relevante para a obtenção do produto. No entanto, também é possível compreender a incompetência técnica como uma falha na aplicação do conhecimento universal. Um incompetente pode ter conhecimento de todas as descrições verdadeiras de objetos e de todas as prescrições acertadas para a produção, mas pode falhar ou bem na subsunção de objetos singulares a essas descrições, ou bem na aplicação dos procedimentos, ou em ambas as coisas. Considerar essa alternativa pode ser útil, se julgamos que Aristóteles confia em comparações entre produção técnica e ação moral para melhor descrever o que é a phronesis e como o phronimos age. Do mesmo modo, considerar essa alternativa pode ser útil para melhor compreender o que "raciocinío falso" pode significar nesse contexto. 1140a24: "sensatez" traduz "phronesis". As três opções tradicionais – "prudência", "sabedoria" e "sabedoria prática" – têm inconvenientes bem maiores. "Sabedoria" corre o risco de gerar, para o leitor, um colapso entre phronesis e sophia, bem como tornar ininteligíveis os trechos que se fundam Lucas Angioni 318 no contraste entre sophos e phronimos (1141a24-25). Por outro lado, "prudência" tem sérios inconvenientes: o termo evoca um padrão de comportamento predominantemente restritivo e refreativo e, além do mais, sem nenhuma conexão direta com a noção de virtude intelectual capaz de avaliar a relevância moral de fatores singulares. "Prudente" é o fulano que, "na dúvida, não ultrapassa", ao passo que o termo grego evoca, antes, o fulano capaz de resolver a dúvida pela avaliação judiciosa dos "itens extremos". Em algumas aplicações, "prudência" e "prudente" soariam bem inadequados. Dificilmente diríamos que foi "prudente" o fulano que demonstrou a raiva devida quando foi injustamente ultrajado (1125b31-33). Tampouco nos parece natural descrever como "prudente" um soldado que, avaliando corretamente o momento de atacar, se arroja sobre inimigos mais numerosos e os vence; ou o fulano que, ao julgar que certa circunstância excepcional de comemoração com os amigos exige uma quebra em sua dieta, se regala de carnes e vinhos em uma festa. "Sensatez" e "sensato" têm seus inconvenientes também – alguém poderia dizer que a sensatez não envolve nenhuma opção por fins moralmente corretos –, mas esses termos nos parecem muito mais adequados, pois sempre se relacionam ao uso judicioso da razão em circunstâncias extremas que não foram previstas nas leis, nos manuais, nos preceitos gerais etc. 1140a25-28: "parece que compete ao sensato ser capaz de deliberar acertadamente etc.": é claro que há associação estrita entre bem deliberar e ser phronimos (cf. 1141b9-1;1142b31-32), mas é preciso ter cautela nesse passo do argumento. Aristóteles não pretende que a capacidade de bem deliberar seja o mais importante para definir o que é a phronesis (o uso do genitivo de atribuição de competência, tou phronimou, não prova nada a esse respeito, pois pode ser usado também para identificar propriedades importantes, mas não definitórias, de um dado objeto; cf. 1123b20). Aristóteles apenas se fiou em um consenso a respeito da extensão do termo "phronimos" – a opinião comum parece aplicar tal termo aos agentes que demonstram capacidade de bem deliberar – e especificou a capacidade de bem deliberar como um traço distintivo pelo qual podemos estabelecer a extensão do termo "phronesis". Se atentarmos à teoria aristotélica da definição apresentada em Segundos Analíticos II, na qual o enunciado definiens mais completo é aquele que apresenta uma estrutura explanatória de três termos, na qual o termo B explica por que o termo A se atribui ao termo C (ou ocorre conjuntamente Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 319 com o termo C), podemos dizer que a capacidade de bem deliberar representaria o termo A (que fixa a identidade do explanandum), não o termo B (explanans que fundamenta as propriedades relevantes para a fixação da identidade do explanandum). Ver o comentário a 1140b4-6. O uso de "dokei" parece dar respaldo a essa interpretação. Aristóteles se fia na opinião comum, não para descartá-la como errônea ou para retificá-la, mas para se certificar de que o uso ordinário do termo "sensato" pressupõe uma propriedade relevante para atinar com a definição de phronesis. 1140a33-b3: sobre a ciência, ver o comentário a 1139b18-24. 1140b4-6: "habilitação verdadeira realizadora de ações, pela razão, a respeito daquilo que é um bem ou um mal para o homem": trata-se de uma tentativa de definir a noção de phronesis, mas nada indica que se trata da definição última do termo. Nossa escolha de tradução se pauta pelas razões seguintes. (I) O adjetivo "praktike" não introduz nenhuma noção vaga ou abstrata de "prática", mas se aplica a itens que são eficazes na consecução de ações. (II) Por isso, dado que "hexis" introduz uma capacidade que se sedimenta pela prática repetida e controlada das mesmas ações que é capaz de executar, a expressão "hexis praktike" designa uma habilitação para realizar ações ou, mais precisamente, uma habilitação realizadora de ações. (III) A expressão "pela razão" resgata as alusões à capacidade de bem deliberar, que pertence aos homens sensatos: a razão em questão parece incluir o uso do raciocínio deliberativo na determinação do que fazer. (IV) Se o adjetivo "verdadeira" estivesse ligado a "razão", introduziria apenas o requisito de que os raciocínios deliberativos do homem sensato devem ser constituídos de proposições verdadeiras (isto é, moralmente corretas). No entanto, se consideramos o que Aristóteles falou em 1139a22-31 sobre a "verdade prática" – acordo entre o desejo correto e o raciocínio que "afirma" exatamente o que o desejo propôs –, podemos sugerir que a habilitação é verdadeira se (a) toma como ponto de partida um desejo correto (o que concorda com o que se diz em 1144a26-b1), (b) se o raciocínio deliberativo delimita algo exeqüível que coincide com o que o desejo propôs (1139a25-26) e (c) se essa exeqüibilidade é comprovada pela efetiva realização da ação que se desejou. É conveniente julgar esse enunciado definitório de acordo com a teoria da definição exposta nos Segundos Analíticos. Leitura superficial do Lucas Angioni 320 texto nos poderia levar a dizer que essa definição parece ser como "a conclusão do silogismo do 'o que é'" (Segundos Analíticos 94a7-9, De Anima 413a13-20), na qual "falta a causa". No entanto, parece-nos que o adjetivo "praktike" (juntamente com a expressão "a respeito daquilo que é um bem ou um mal para o homem") introduz exatamente o "termo B", isto é, apresenta a causa que não apenas faz o definiendum ser o que é, mas também explica por que o definiendum tem como propriedades básicas as características captadas pelos demais termos do enunciado definiens. É precisamente por ser "realizadora de ações boas para o ser humano" que a sensatez é "verdadeira", no sentido acima indicado, o qual envolve como elemento constituinte a verdade teórica na determinação dos modos de realizar ações: a expressão "pela razão" faz as vezes do "termo A". Aristóteles, no entanto, é bem vago ao dizer que a sensatez é realizadora de ações "pela razão": "razão" sugere antes a noção de raciocínio deliberativo, e não capta o que há de mais específico na phronesis, que é a avaliação quase perceptual dos fatores singulares dos quais depende a ação. Não seria exagero, assim, sugerir que a definição de sensatez oferecida por Aristóteles consiste em um enunciado no qual, embora a causa esteja presente, como termo B, falta identificar de modo apropriado a diferença mais específica do definiendum, o termo A. A razão pela qual insisito nesse ponto é que os itens (I) e (IV) acima explorados dependem fortemente da associação entre phronesis e percepção, ou em outros termos, da associação entre phronesis e avaliação correta dos fatores singulares últimos, que não estão considerados no resultado da deliberação (cf. 1141b14-16). O próprio Aristóteles parece dar-se conta dessa dificuldade em 1140b28, ao admitir que a phronesis não é apenas uma habilitação (para agir etc.) pela razão. A phronesis deve incluir ainda, como fator relevante, a correta avaliação dos itens singulares. Um ponto importante é que o termo "logos" poderia ser entendido ou no sentido de "raciocínio" que efetua a deliberação, ou no sentido de "cômputo" adequado dos fatores singulares últimos. Mas nada na presente definição sugere que "logos" deva ser entendido com ênfase maior neste segundo sentido, o qual, no entanto, seria o mais relevante para uma definição completa da phronesis. Por isso, é razoável tratar este enunciado como uma definição não completa. Finalmente, convém comparar esta definição de "sensatez" com a definição de "virtude do caráter" dada em 1106b36-1107a2: ambas são habilitações para agir, mas, na definição da virtude do caráter, a eficácia prática está já pressuposta na noção de "habilitação" e o acento proeminente Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 321 recai sobre a prohairesis, ao passo que, na definição de sensatez, Aristóteles enfatiza a eficácia na execução da ação (com o adjetivo "praktike") porque ações dependem, em última instância, dos fatores singulares, sobre os quais a sensatez é que tem o controle. Essa diferença de ênfase concorda com o que se diz em 1144a7-9 e 1144a20-22. 1140b9: a tradução de "theorein" por "arregimentar" pode parecer abusiva, mas "theorein" pode ser usado no sentido mais preciso de inspecionar uma grande extensão de território (ou paisagem), bem como no sentido mais específico de inspecionar uma tropa ou regimento. Neste contexto da EN, "theorein" não tem o mero sentido de "perceber" ou "ver", mas o sentido mais forte de "manter sob consideração" um extenso território de fatores relevantes e "convocá-los" para as decisões no momento adequado. "Arregimentar" se presta a esse uso. 1140b11-13: "chamamos a temperança [sophrosune] por esse nome etc.": não há muita evidência para a etimologia que Aristóteles aqui propõe, mas seu ponto é claro: a temperança contribui para preservar a sensatez, por preservar o juízo sobre o que é prazeroso ou doloroso. 1140b18: "não se evidencia" traduz "ou phainetai", expressão que pode facilmente levar a confusão. Em contextos como este (bem como em 1113a30-31, 1114b14, 17), "phainetai" não tem o mero sentido cognitivo de ser manifesto, claro etc., mas o sentido mais forte de ser evidente do modo relevante para se impor ao assentimento moral. Ao dizer que os princípios não se evidenciam aos intemperantes ou aos viciosos em geral, Aristóteles não quer dizer que eles não têm notícia dos princípios, nem que têm alguma falha cognitiva que os levasse a não compreender os preceitos morais – como se agissem por certa ignorância (que é o que propõe o intelectualismo socrático). Aristóteles quer dizer que os viciosos não dão seu assentimento moral aos princípios. 1140b28-30: "mas ela tempouco é apenas uma habilitação pela razão etc.": Aristóteles nota de modo claro a insuficiência da definição proposta em 1140b4-6 (repetida em 1140b20-21). Por ser virtude da parte opinativa ou calculativa, a sensatez tem por objeto as coisas que podem ser de outro modo. Por isso, a sensatez deve incluir, além da razão deliberativa, uma Lucas Angioni 322 capacidade de perceber de modo imediato os fatores singulares relevantes dos quais depende a ação (cf. 1141b15; 1142a23-30; 1143a28 ss.). A razão pela qual não pode haver esquecimento da sensatez é que sua capacidade de perceber fatores singulares relevantes não pode ser consubstanciada em um acervo de proposições, suscetível ao esquecimento. 1141a7-8: cf. Segundos Analíticos 100b12 ss., 72b18-25. Aristóteles é bem vago e não há como saber se ele se refere aos princípios próprios de cada ciência demonstrativa, ou aos axiomas comuns. Ver comentário a 1141a18-20. 1141a10-11: Fídias é descrito como "lithourgos" (literalmente, "que trabalha pedras"), ao passo que Policleto é descrito como "andriantopoios", "produtor-de-estátuas". É claro que o adjetivo "sábio" não recobre em português todos os usos de "sophos" no grego. Talvez fosse mais correto traduzir "sophos", neste caso, por "exímio" ou "sofisticado", mas com isso perderíamos o fio do argumento, pelo qual Aristóteles infere, no passo seguinte, que a sabedoria envolve mais apuro que a ciência. 1141a18-20: "a sabedoria é inteligência com ciência": nos Segundos Analíticos, Aristóteles às vezes usa o termo "ciência" de modo restrito, que parece excluir a inteligência dos princípios (cf. 100b5-17). No entanto, a definição de conhecimento científico ("epistasthai") dada em 71b9-12 e desenvolvida nos capítulos subseqüentes autoriza o uso do termo "ciência" para designar o conhecimento demonstrativo que envolve não apenas o conhecimento da conclusão pelos princípios, mas também o conhecimento dos próprios princípios, que são enunciados nas premissas (cf. 72a25-b4, 76b4). Ainda que os princípios, em última instância, não possam ser explicados por princípios que lhes fossem anteriores, o conhecimento demonstrativo das conclusões envolve (e não poderia não envolver) o conhecimento de que os princípios são o caso. Em vista disso, o que seriam os "itens mais valiosos" a que Aristóteles se refere na Ética a Nicômaco? Eles não podem designar as definições, os termos que captam as causas primeiras etc., pois, neste caso, a sabedoria se tornaria idêntica àquilo que os Analíticos (71b20, 73a22, 74b5) reconhecem sob o título de "ciência demonstrativa" e o termo "ciência" na Ética a Nicômaco se restringiria apenas ao conhecimento não-explanatório de que as conclusões são o caso. Ao que parece, "os itens mais valiosos" na Ética a Nicômaco designam ou bem os axiomas comuns, Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 323 ou bem os princípios mais altos, considerados pela teologia. No primeiro caso, a sabedoria seria um conhecimento científico sistemático e coroado pela compreensão (filosófica) dos axiomas; no segundo caso, ela seria um conhecimento científico enciclopédico e coroado pela teologia (em favor dessa sugestão, cf. 1141a34-b3). 1141a34-b2: "há outras coisas muito mais divinas em natureza que o homem etc.": trechos como este (cf. 1141a21-22, Partes dos animais 644b24645a4) mostram que não é tão simples atribuir a Aristóteles uma ingênua teleologia antropocêntrica. Por outro lado, a sentença "como é evidentíssimo pelas coisas de que o mundo se constitui" pode ser entendida de modo diverso. Se "kosmos" for entendido como céu, não como mundo (diferentemente de 1141a22), a sintaxe da sentença pode ser tomada de outro modo: "phanerotata" seria um nominativo respondendo diretamente a "alla ... theiotera", de modo que a tradução seria: "por exemplo, as coisas mais evidentes [sc. os corpos celestes], das quais o céu se constitui". Trechos como Metafísica 1026a18 e Física 196a33 podem dar algum paralelo para esse uso de "phanerotata" para designar os corpos celestes. 1141b9-10: "dizemos que a função que mais compete ao sensato é esta, bem deliberar": essa sentença parece contrariar o que dissemos nos comentários a 1140a25-28 e 1140b4-6. No entanto, é perfeitamente plausível entender que Aristóteles, longe de introduzir uma premissa forte de sua teoria, está apenas a relatar a opinião comum ou "o que se diz comumemente" sobre a sensatez. Aristóteles parte dessa opinião comum, que contém um núcleo verdadeiro – pois, sem dúvida, compete ao homem sensato bem deliberar –, mas logo mais (em 1141b14-16) observa que é preciso acrescentar ao phronimos a função de considerar os fatores singulares envolvidos na ação. 1141b13: "aquele que acerta, pelo raciocínio, o que é o melhor": seria um erro, neste caso, traduzir o adjetivo "stochastikos" como "aquele que mira, almeja etc.". O sentido desse adjetivo na ética de Aristóteles envolve a noção de "ter boa pontaria", "ser apto a acertar o alvo" ("able to hit", Liddell & Scott). Lucas Angioni 324 1141b14-16: "a sensatez não tem por objeto apenas os universais etc.": se poderia presumir que Aristóteles tem em vista a premissa universal e a premissa particular de um silogismo prático, de acordo com o exemplo que se segue logo mais (em 1141b18-20): "Todas as carnes leves são saudáveis; todas as carnes de aves são leves; logo, todas as carnes de aves são saudáveis". Às vezes o jargão "kathÊ hekaston" se aplica a algo ainda universal, porém mais específico em contraste com algo mais genérico – como as carnes de aves, em contraste com carnes leves. No entanto, isso não parece ser o caso na presente passagem: "ta kathÊ hekasta" em 1141b16 designa os fatores singulares envolvidos na ação. Os "particulares" que a sensatez deve conhecer, para ser efetiva na execução da ação (praktike), são fatores estritamente singulares (cf. 1141b21-22). 1141b16-18: "alguns que não têm conhecimento são mais eficazes na ação etc.": cf. Metafísica 981a12-24. 1141b20: "quem soubesse que as carnes de aves são [leves e] saudáveis": alguns editores e tradutores seguem Trendelenburg e condenam como espúrias as palavras "koupha kai" ("leves e"). Suprimidas tais palavras, o contraste se daria entre o conhecimento de uma premissa maior ("todas as carnes leves são de fácil digestão e saudáveis") e o conhecimento de uma possível conclusão ("as carnes de aves são saudáveis"), ao passo que, com tais palavras preservadas no texto, o contraste se daria entre o conhecimento de uma premissa maior ("todas as carnes leves são de fácil digestão e saudáveis") e o conhecimento combinado da premissa menor e da conclusão ("as carnes de aves são leves", "as carnes de aves são saudáveis"). Não vejo muita relevância na diferença entre os dois casos e, por isso, não vejo razão em concordar com a excisão. O ponto mais relevante do argumento é que, em um dos pólos do contraste, há alguém que conhece apenas a premissa maior, mas não reconhece as instâncias particulares que se subsumem nos termos dessa premissa. 1141b21-22: "a sensatez é realizadora de ação etc.": como já disse (ver comentários a 1139a27), o adjetivo "praktike" quer dizer "realizadora ou produtora de ação" ou "eficaz na realização da ação". Do ponto de vista sintático, a referência do pronome "tauten" é bem obscura, mas a única Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 325 opção consistente com o contexto é reportá-lo ao conhecimento dos particulares ou singulares. 1142a2: "intrometidos" traduz "polupragmones", adjetivo que pode, eventualmente, ter acepção positiva ("que faz/empreende muitas coisas"), mas usualmente tem valor pejorativo e indica aquele que se mete onde não foi chamado e faz pelos outros mais do que lhes seria conveniente. 1142a12-13: "muitos jovens são geômetras etc.": traduzir o verbo "gignesthai" nestas linhas por "vir a ser" seria errôneo, pois daria a entender que Aristóteles nega a possibilidade de um jovem vir a se tornar sensato (quando atingir a idade madura). O verbo "gignesthai" é usado neste contexto (como é uso comum no grego) como verbo copulativo entre termos cuja ligação não é imediata. 1142a20: "o erro no deliberar etc.": Aristóteles descreve, nestas linhas, duas formas de erro teórico na deliberação – assentimento a proposições falsas, sejam elas universais ou particulares. Pode-se falar, ainda, de erro moral na deliberação, quando se toma como ponto de partida algo que não é um bem (cf. 1142b20 ss.). 1142a25-26: "a inteligência tem por objeto as definições das quais não há explicação": cf. Segundos Analíticos 72b18-25, 100b5-17. Não é muito claro, em contextos como este (cf. 72b24, 76b35), se o grego "horos" se refere a termos ou a definições. Com a primeira opção, uma alternativa de tradução seria: "os termos dos quais não há definição". Muitas passagens (cf. De Anima 430a26-28; Metafísica 1051b17 ss.) dariam respaldo a esta segunda alternativa, mas ela é incompatível com a teoria da ciência dos Segundos Analíticos, segundo a qual os princípios da demonstração são definições dos objetos primeiros de um dado domínio (72a21-23; 75b30-32; 76b39). 1142a27-30: "não a percepção dos perceptíveis próprios etc.": Aristóteles é pouco claro a respeito desse outro tipo de percepção pelo qual percebemos, numa construção matemática, que o termo em questão é um triângulo (não é claro se a referência seria a Segundos Analíticos 71a20-21 ss.), menos claro ainda a respeito dessa outra forma de percepção que se atribui à sensatez na apreensão dos fatores singulares envolvidos na ação. Lucas Angioni 326 1142a32: "boa deliberação" traduz "euboulia". Seria abusar da boa vontade do leitor propor algo como "boa deliberança". Devemos notar, porém, que "euboulia" se refere a uma capacidade de bem conduzir atos de deliberação, não a episódios de deliberação ou a um ato específico de deliberar. 1142a33: "argúcia" traduz "eustochia". Alternativa razoável seria "boa pontaria", pois o termo grego designa a qualidade de mirar bem e acertar o alvo de modo rápido. 1142b2-5: "se pode deliberar por muito tempo etc.": Aristóteles rejeita a identificação entre boa deliberação e argúcia. No entanto, seu argumento não afirma que a boa deliberação (euboulia) prescinde da rapidez na deliberação (de outro modo, isso contradiria o que ele afirma em 1142b27); ele apenas se fia na premissa de que é possível deliberar durante longo tempo, bem como na opinião comum de que é preciso deliberar lentamente. 1142b10: "não há correção da ciência": Aristóteles emprega o termo "ciência" (que pode ser bem traduzido por "conhecimento" em vários contextos) para designar o conhecimento de que algo é verdadeiro, de tal modo que seria auto-contraditória uma expressão como "ciência falsa". Pela mesma razão, não se pode falar em correção (isto é, um procedimento corretivo, que levasse do falso ao verdadeiro) da ciência, pois não há ciência falsa. O único problema é que, no contexto do argumento que se estende de 1142b8 a 1142b26, "orthotes" ("correção") varia de sentido: designa às vezes um procedimento corretivo, às vezes a qualidade intrínseca daquilo que é correto. 1142b17-20: "a correção se dá de mais de um modo etc.": não apenas o acrático como também o vicioso apresentam certa correção na deliberação: ambos alcançam aquilo que se propuseram a alcançar pelo raciocínio deliberativo, a saber, uma delimitação dos meios exeqüíveis para os fins propostos. Por um lado, o acrático reconhece o fim moralmente correto, e sua deliberação, consistente com esse fim, chega a formular um propósito moralmente correto; no entanto, o acrático falha em executar a ação de acordo com esse propósito. Por outro lado, o vicioso (phaulos) não reconhece o fim moralmente correto, mas acolhe um mal como se fosse um Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 327 bem; não obstante, ele delibera corretamente em vista daquilo que estipulou como fim. A correção moral que Aristóteles exige da boa deliberação descarta ambos esses casos. Ver comentário seguinte. Na linha 1142b19, há uma corrupção no texto, mas julgo que o trecho "ho protithetai idein ek tou logismou teuxetai" faz pleno sentido no contexto, pois basta tomar "ek tou logismou" com "ho protithetai idein" ("aquilo que se propõe a saber pelo raciocínio"), ou então, no caso de se optar pela excisão de "idein", basta compreender que "protithetai" inclui implicitamente o infinitivo do verbo da oração principal ("ho protithetai ek tou logismou [tunchanein] teuxetai"). 1142b21-22: "a boa deliberação é certo tipo de correção da deliberação, a saber, a que alcança o bem": a correção moral que Aristóteles exige da boa deliberação exclui tanto o acrático como o vicioso, pois nenhum deles alcança a realização de um bem. Por um lado, o vicioso implementa sua ação de acordo com seu propósito, mas, dado que ele falha em reconhecer o fim moralmente bom, o que ele realiza vem a ser um mal. Por outro lado, o acrático reconhece o fim moralmente bom e sua deliberação formula um propósito moralmente bom, mas ele falha em executar a ação que realizaria seu propósito e, portanto, "colhe um mal" em sua ação. Note-se que, se "agathou teuktike" em 1142b22 for tomado no sentido mais restrito de alcançar um bom propósito (o que pressupõe reconhecer um fim bom como princípio da deliberação), não no sentido de alcançar a realização de um bem, Aristóteles não poderia excluir o caso do acrático. 1142b22-26: "mas é possível alcançá-lo por um silogismo falso etc.": este trecho é bem complexo e exige muito cuidado exegético. Aristóteles parece falar em "alcançar um bem pelo silogismo", o que sugere que a expressão "alcançar um bem" não teria outro sentido senão o de atingir um bom propósito como conclusão final do raciocínio deliberativo. No entanto, ainda que a expressão "alcançar um bem" tenha esse sentido neste trecho (o que já é discutível), isso nada prova quanto ao trecho anterior, no qual a expressão equivalente deve ser entendida no sentido de realizar um bem – caso contrário, Aristóteles não poderia deixar de atribuir boa deliberação (euboulia) ao acrático. Aristóteles agora parece concentrar-se nos meandros do próprio raciocínio deliberativo. Há duas opções de intepretação mais proeminentes. Lucas Angioni 328 Por um lado, "aquilo que se deve fazer" poderia ser entendido como se remetesse à ação a ser implementada, descrita como bem a ser realizado, ao passo que "aquilo através de que [diÊ hou] se deve fazer" remeteria aos meios ou métodos "através dos quais" a ação poderia ser implementada. Nesta opção, Aristóteles teria em vista o caso em que a deliberação envolve o propósito de fazer um bem, mas por meios moralmente reprováveis (por exemplo, no caso em que se formula o propósito de dar suporte financeiro a um amigo falido, mas por meio de dinheiro roubado). Por outro lado, "aquilo que se deve fazer" poderia ser entendido como se remetesse à ação a ser implementada, descrita na suposta conclusão do raciocínio deliberativo, ao passo que "aquilo por que [diÊ hou] se deve fazer" remeteria ao fim que justificaria a realização dessa ação, descrito como termo mediador do "silogismo deliberativo". Assim, Aristóteles teria em vista o caso em que a deliberação chega, na conclusão, a determinar a ação correta a ser feita, mas falha na justificação da ação, por não ter partido do fim moralmente correto que inspira tal ação, (em favor dessa interpretação, ver EE 1226b22-30). A linguagem da silogística não ajuda muito neste caso. Não há em Aristóteles uma noção consistente e consolidada de "silogismo prático", ao contrário do que muitos supõem. Aristóteles emprega o termo "silogismo", de fato, bem como, em poucos casos, expressão equivalente a "prático" (cf. 1144a31-32). No entanto, Aristóteles está longe de ter esclarecido as regras para a formulação correta desses silogismos – está longe de ter formulado regras para a "exposição dos termos" (no sentido em que essa expressão é entendida em Primeiros Analíticos I 34-40) ou para a quantificação das proposições. Aristóteles concebeu o silogismo como um tipo de argumento válido, isto é, um tipo de argumento no qual, em virtude de sua mera forma lógica, a conclusão não pode ser falsa se as premissas são conjuntamente verdadeiras. Se Aristóteles não puder mostrar como a forma lógica de um silogismo prático garante sua validade (todos os silogismos apresentados em Motu Animalium 7, por exemplo, são argumentos inválidos), a noção de "silogismo prático" torna-se mera metáfora. É bem provável que Aristóteles tivesse em vista, tão somente, uma vaga analogia com a noção de silogismo. No livro II dos Segundos Analíticos, o vocabulário silogístico aparece para introduzir a estrutura triádica da causalidade. Aristóteles poderia ter em vista, no caso da teoria moral, tão somente essa estrutura triádica: como análogo do termo menor, teríamos uma ação qualquer; como análogo do termo maior, teríamos um predicado moral, ou um adjetivo verbal que atribuísse à Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 329 ação um valor moral (por exemplo, prakteon = deve ser feita); como análogo do termo mediador, teríamos o fim (a "causa final") que justificaria o valor moral de uma ação. Ou, alternativamente, o análogo do termo menor seria o agente, o análogo do termo maior seria uma ação particular capaz de realizar certo fim, e o análogo do termo mediador seria o fim que o agente deseja e que requer meios apropriados para sua realização. Outra opção, ainda, seria aquela que representasse a causa eficiente da ação: o termo maior representaria a ação a ser feita, e o termo mediador introduziria uma causa eficiente (um "meio") capaz de realizar tal ação. Aristóteles, no entanto, é bem vago a esse respeito. Quanto ao passo em questão, é difícil decidir se Aristóteles tem em vista casos em que o agente se propõe a fazer a ação correta, mas falha na justificação das razões que levaram à sua decisão, ou casos em que o agente se propõe a fazer um bem, mas por meios moralmente reprováveis. 1142b31-33: "se compete aos sensatos deliberar bem, a boa deliberação é a correção relativa ao que é conveniente para o fim do qual a sensatez é uma concepção verdadeira": este é um dos trechos mais controversos do livro VI, ou talvez da Ética a Nicômaco em seu todo. Do ponto de vista exegético, a controvérsia se concentra no problema de saber qual seria o referente exato do pronome relativo "hou" ("do qual") em 1142b33, e se presume que as três opções engendrariam resultados filosóficos bem distintos. (I) Se o pronome "hou" ("do qual") retoma "sumpheron" ("conveniente"), Aristóteles estaria a dizer que a phronesis é uma compreensão correta daquilo que é conveniente, ou seja, daquilo que se apresenta como modo ou meio apropriado para executar um dado propósito. (II) Se o pronome "hou" ("do qual") retoma "telos" ("fim"), Aristóteles estaria a dizer que a phronesis é uma compreensão verdadeira do fim, ou seja, daquilo que é pressuposto como princípio no processo deliberativo. (III) Se o pronome "hou" ("do qual") retoma "sumpheron pros to telos", Aristóteles estaria a dizer que a compreensão verdadeira da phronesis envolve não apenas a correção instrumental que determina o que é conveniente para realizar um dado fim, mas também a correção moral do fim. O debate nesses termos, no entanto, não é muito feliz. A relação que se pressupõe entre cada intepretação da sintaxe e os resultados filosóficos distintos que se lhes atribuem é artificiosamente mecânica e inconvincente. Alguns chegam mesmo a dizer que a leitura (I) tornaria o argumento incapaz Lucas Angioni 330 de distinguir entre phronesis e destreza (deinotes), assim como assumem que a leitura sintática (II) automaticamente transformaria a sensatez em uma capacidade de justificar os fins da ação moralmente correta. É preciso cuidado, no entanto, para compreender o que o argumento de Aristóteles, em seu contexto, pretende determinar. O contexto do argumento é dominado pelo contraste entre (a) deliberar bem em relação ao fim sem mais e (b) deliberar bem em relação a um dado fim. Alguns julgam que a expressão "sem mais" (haplos) funciona como uma medalha de promoção, que alça o fim em questão à autoridade máxima de fim último, o sumo bem, que guia todas as ações de um dado indivíduo. Mas a expressão "sem mais" não funciona assim neste contexto. "Sem mais" pode ser oposto a "de modo preciso e exato" (cf. EE 1221b7). Neste contexto (bem como em vários outros), "sem mais" quer dizer "sem nenhuma especificação ulterior", de modo que a expressão "fim sem mais" se refere a um fim qualquer, sem incluir (mas sem tampouco excluir) nenhuma referência a um fim específico – sem incluir nenhuma referência nem mesmo ao fim último, que é um fim específico, embora de natureza distinta dos demais. Ora, neste contexto, a opção (a) caracteriza apenas a destreza (cf. 1144a24-26), isto é, a habilidade de deliberar bem em vista de fins quaisquer. Aristóteles quer evitar essa opção, obviamente, e a sentença em pauta marca sua opção por (b), mais particularmente, por um tipo específico de fim: a boa deliberação (como parte constituinte da sensatez) é a correção relativa ao que é conveniente para um dado fim específico, a saber, aquele fim do qual a sensatez tem um entendimento verdadeiro. Não precisamos discutir as idiossincrasias lingüísticas que levam editores do texto grego a pôr uma vírgula entre "telos" e o pronome relativo "hou", mas o fato é que "hou" introduz uma oração relativa adjetiva, jamais uma oração relativa apositiva. O objetivo de Aristóteles é caracterizar a boa deliberação como uma correção que também envolve o fim moralmente correto compreendido pela sensatez. Daí, no entanto, não se segue que a sentença em pauta afirme que o entendimento verdadeiro do fim seja competência exclusiva da phronesis. Se Aristóteles estivesse a dizer que apenas a sensatez é capaz de entender os fins, ou seja, se ele estivesse a afirmar que "sensatez" e "concepção verdadeira do fim" são expressões coextensivas, a sintaxe da sentença seria totalmente diversa: a asserção de identidade extensional entre sujeito e predicado sempre exige o artigo no predicado. Além do mais, o acrático não é phronimos (cf. 1146a5-7, 1152a6-9), mas tem um entendimento verdadeiro do fim bom e Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 331 atinge um propósito específico em acordo com esse fim. A phronesis certamente envolve o entendimento verdadeiro dos fins moralmente corretos, mas sua tarefa essencial não é justificar esses fins, mas sim delimitá-los pela avaliação correta dos fatores singulares. 1142b34: "entendimento" traduz "sunesis", "bom-entendimento" traduz "eusunesia". Procuramos preservar a ligação etimológica imediata entre os dois termos gregos. Uma boa razão para essas opções é que "bom entendedor" traduz muito bem o adjetivo "eusunetos", do qual deriva o termo "eusunesia". 1143a8-10: "a sensatez é prescritiva etc.": conforme já foi dito em sua definição preliminar, a sensatez é uma habilitação para agir, de acordo com a razão. Segue-se, portanto, que a sensatez tem por tarefa ordenar o agente à ação. O entendimento, em contrapartida, é apenas judicativo: consiste em discernir o que é correto nas mesmas matérias sobre as quais o homem sensato emite ordens (cf. 1143a14-15). 1143a8-9: "sua consumação é o que é preciso fazer ou não fazer": se insistíssemos em tomar "telos" no sentido unilateral e restrito de "escopo, meta, objetivo" etc., esta sentença poderia ser entendida de outro modo: "o fim ou a meta da sensatez é emitir o preceito, 'deve-se fazer isto' etc.". Entendo, porém, que "telos" tem sentido bem mais preciso – não somente no jargão aristotélico, mas também nos usos ordinários que servem de base à reflexão aristotélica – e, precisamente neste contexto, designa o acabamento ou a consumação de algo de acordo com sua função própria. Conseqüentemente, a expressão "ti dei prattein e me" não remete à formulação lingüística da questão cuja resposta é o preceito emitido pela sensatez ("o que é preciso fazer? É preciso fazer tal e tal coisa etc."), mas remete objetivamente à ação que se deve fazer ou não fazer. Assim, a consumação da sensatez reside na realização do ato que se deve fazer – o que está de acordo com a definição da sensatez como uma habilitação para agir. 1143a12-13: "assim como 'aprender' pode ser designado 'entender', quando alguém aciona seu conhecimento": Aristóteles recorre à distinção entre dois usos de "manthano" ("aprender") que não encontram paralelo perfeito em português. Por um lado, "manthano" quer dizer aprender em Lucas Angioni 332 sentido estrito, ou seja, adquirir um conhecimento que não se tinha antes, receber uma instrução sobre algo que antes se ignorava etc. Por outro lado, "manthano" pode ser usado em contextos em que alguém que já aprendeu – ou seja, já adquiriu antes um dado conhecimento, já recebeu a instrução etc. – faz uso do conhecimento antes adquirido, ou seja, resgata tal conhecimento do estado inativo em que ele se encontrava e torna-o ativo ou imediatamente presente à sua consciência. Por isso, traduzi "chretai tei epistemei" por "aciona seu conhecimento". Nesse segundo uso, "manthano" corresponde a certos usos de "suniemi" (que é o verbo correspondente à "sunesis"). Cf. Segundos Analíticos 71a12-13; 71b32; 76b37. Esse uso de "manthano" e "suniemi" corresponde a certos usos informais de "compreendo", "entendo", ou, em Portugal, "percebo" (em inglês, "to get the point"). 1143a 15: "quando outro as diz": o entendimento difere da sensatez não apenas por ser judicativo, em vez de produtor de ação, mas também por não dizer respeito às ações do próprio agente. 1143a16-17: "o uso do termo 'entendimento' segundo o qual denominamos os 'bons entendedores'": "bons entendedores" traduz "eusunetoi", adjetivo que no original grego tem conexão etimológica imediata com o termo "sunesis" ("entendimento"). Cumpre notar que "tounoma", neste contexto, não se refere ao termo abstratamente concebido como sinal lingüístico, mas se refere claramente ao uso específico do termo "sunesis" que está pressuposto quando chamamos os "eusunetoi" de "eusunetoi": são "eusunetoi" ("bons entendedores") aqueles que aprendem e entendem rapidamente e com facilidade. Ressalto que o emprego de "onoma" para se referir ao uso de um termo (e não ao sinal lingüístico abstratamente tomado) é comum em Aristóteles: ver Metafísica 1006a 29-30; 1052b13-14. 1143a19-20: "compreensão" traduz "gnome" – pois se trata de uma opinião ou consideração que compreende e perdoa um erro moral de outrem; "compreensivos" traduz "sungnomonas" – termo que designa as pessoas que compreendem as dificuldades de uma situação moral complexa e, por isso, perdoam uma eventual falha moral de outrem; "equânime" traduz "epieikes" – termo que designa aquilo que é justo, mas que não foi previsto em nenhuma lei ou código moral universal, ou seja, algo cuja justiça ou pertinência moral emerge exatamente em uma situação complexa repleta de Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 333 fatores singulares cuja avaliação não estava prevista na lei universal (cf. 1137a33 ss.). 1143a23: "perdão" traduz "sungnome", termo que tem conexão etimológica imediata com "gnome" (traduzido por "compreensão"). Não conseguimos encontrar em português um grupo de termos que preservasse as conexões imediatas em grego. 1143a33-34: "é preciso que o sensato os conheça": é preciso que o homem sensato conheça os itens singulares e últimos, pois toda ação se conta entre os itens singulares e últimos e o sensato é voltado à execução de ações. A insistência de Aristóteles nesse ponto não pode ser menosprezada. Como dissemos, a capacidade de bem deliberar é em si mesma insuficiente para definir a sensatez. Para determinar a ação, que é sua consumação e objetivo último, a sensatez requer a avaliação ou o discernimento quase-perceptual (cf. 1142a27-30, 1143b5) dos fatores singulares envolvidos nas circunstâncias da ação. 1143a36-b1: "há inteligência (mas não raciocínio) das primeiras definições e dos itens últimos": cf. 1141a7-8, 1142a25-26, Segundos Analíticos 100b12 ss., 72b18-25. 1143b2: "definições imutáveis": o termo "imutável" (akineton) é utilizado também em Ética a Nicômaco 1134b25 para descrever as propriedades essenciais do fogo, em oposição à variabilidade e mutabilidade das leis humanas. Cf. Ethica Eudemia 1222b23-25: "imutável" descreve aquilo cujo valor de verdade não pode mudar, ao passo que "[princípio] mudado" ("kinoumene") descreve aquilo cujo valor de verdade foi alterado. 1143b2-3: "no domínio da ação, a inteligência compete ao item último, ao possível e à outra premissa": alguns se fiam nesta passagem como suposta evidência de que Aristóteles teria concebido uma noção consistente de silogismo prático: a "outra premissa" seria a premissa menor – em oposição a uma regra moral exposta na premissa maior –, a qual teria por objeto o "possível" ou "contingente", no sentido de que aquilo que se pode ou deve subsumir sob a regra moral é sujeito à mudança. A evidência, no entanto, é muito escassa (Motu Animalium 701a8ss., especialmente 23-25), e Lucas Angioni 334 muito provavelmente a noção de silogismo prático não passa de uma metáfora mal desenvolvida na teoria de Aristóteles (ver comentários a 1142b22-26 e 1144a31-33). 1143b9-11: "a inteligência é princípio e fim etc.": editores propõem a excisão dessa passagem, a qual, de fato, além de obscura em si mesma (pois é difícil imaginar a que o pronome "touton" se refere), não parece ter nenhuma conexão com o contexto. 1143b11-13: "é preciso ater-se às afirmações e opiniões indemonstráveis dos [...] sensatos": Aristóteles aconselha ater-se às opiniões dos homens sensatos, mas isso não implica que ele tenha reconhecido a possibilidade de consubstanciar o conhecimento produzido pelos homens sensatos em um acervo sistemático de opiniões universalizantes. 1143b21: "em vista de que precisaríamos dela etc.": as questões que Aristóteles formula neste capítulo podem ser resumidas do seguinte modo: (I) qual a utilidade da sabedoria, que não investiga nada que nos pudesse levar à realização completa? (1143b18-20). (II) Qual a utilidade da sensatez, que, apesar de investigar coisas relativas à nossa realização completa, não parece ser nem condição suficiente nem condição necessária à mesma? (II.a) A sensatez não é condição suficiente para a realização completa porque, em matéria de ação virtuosa, bem como em matéria de saúde e bom condicionamento físico, resultados não se geram pelo mero conhecimento do assunto: podemos conhecer quais são as coisas capazes de gerar eudaimonia e mesmo assim falhar em engendrá-las pela nossa ação (1143b21-28). (II.b) A sensatez não seria condição necessária para a realização completa porque, tal como no caso da medicina e da saúde, seria possível realizar-se (ser eudaimon) seguindo externamente os conselhos de outrem (1143b30-33). (III) A sensatez, sendo pior do que a sabedoria, daria ordens a ela? (1143b33-35). 1143b22: lemos o texto sem o artigo "he", omitido em Lb. 1144a1-3: "elas são, em si mesmas, dignas de escolha etc.": Aristóteles responde a primeira questão formulada no capítulo: a sabedoria e a sensatez são dignas de escolha em si mesmas, por serem virtudes. Dado que virtude é "aquilo que deixa a coisa da qual ela é virtude em um bom estado e a faz Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 335 desenvolver bem sua função" (1106a15-17), e todo bem é em si mesmo digno de escolha, segue-se que a sabedoria e a sensatez são dignas de escolha em si mesmas (e não por serem "úteis" em vista de outra coisa). 1144a4-5: "como a saúde produz completa realização etc.": do ponto de vista sintático, a expressão "como a saúde" pressupõe o complemento "produz realização completa" ([poiei] eudaimonian) – o objeto direto "eudaimonian" se explicita no segundo membro da comparação, e o verbo "poiein" já foi assumido desde a sentença que inicia o trecho. Não há por que exagerar o sentido de "produzir" neste contexto, como se Aristóteles estivesse a dizer que a saúde é, por si só, causa suficiente para engendrar a eudaimonia. O verbo "produzir" ("poiein"), neste contexto, pode ser entendido no sentido de "contribuir para a existência". 1144a5: "a virtude em seu todo": a expressão grega é "hole arete", mas, diferentemente do que ocorre em 1130a9, b18 ss. (cf. 1129b26, 30-31, "teleia arete"; 1124a7-8, 28-29, "arete pantele"), Aristóteles não se refere à soma de todas as virtudes do caráter. Creio que, neste contexto, essa expressão resgata a "virtude do ser humano" mencionada em EN II, 1106a22-24: "a virtude do ser humano é a habilitação pela qual o ser humano se torna bom e pela qual ele desempenha bem sua função própria" – função cujo exercício excelente (de acordo com 1098a7-18) se identifica à eudaimonia. O exercício excelente (isto é, virtuoso) dessa função (que é a atividade racional) se dá em várias partes, e cada uma dessas partes é uma virtude de uma parte racional da alma: a sabedoria habilita ao exercício virtuoso (ou excelente) da razão científica; a sensatez, ao exercício virtuoso da razão calculativa voltada à ação; a virtude do caráter, ao exercício virtuoso da parte irracional na tarefa de prestar ouvidos à razão. 1144a6-7: "a função se perfaz pela sensatez e pela virtude do caráter": o termo "ergon", que traduzi por "função", poderia ser interpretado de dois modos. (I) O termo poderia ser uma referência direta ao argumento da função humana em EN I 7, 1097b24-1098a18, de modo que Aristóteles estaria a dizer que a completa realização do ser humano (sua eudaimonia) se desenvolve pela sensatez e pela virtude do caráter. (II) O termo poderia ser tomado no sentido de ação virtuosa (cf. EE 1228a13), de modo que Aristóteles estaria a defender a tese mais simples de que cada ação virtuosa só pode vir a ser uma ação virtuosa no sentido pleno do termo se a sensatez e a Lucas Angioni 336 virtude do caráter a produzirem do modo apropriado. Ambas as intepretações são consistentes com a teoria proposta na EN, sendo a interpretação (I) de alcance mais ambicioso. Prefiro a interpretação (I), pois a referência à eudaimonia já estava presente na formulação do problema central que domina o capítulo (cf. 1143b19), bem como nas linhas imediatamente anteriores (1144a3-6). A novidade do presente trecho consiste em explicar melhor como a sensatez contribui para produzir eudaimonia. 1144a7-9: "a virtude faz o alvo ser correto, ao passo que a sensatez faz ser correto aquilo que leva ao alvo": o alvo em questão é precisamente o mesmo que foi mencionado em 1138b22, no início do livro VI: trata-se de um propósito (cf. 1144a20) ainda geral, que precisa ser mais especificado pela avaliação correta dos fatores singulares em cada circunstância. O propósito em si mesmo, conforme Aristóteles diz em 1139a23 e 1139b 4-5, envolve uma composição entre o desejo por um dado fim e a delimitação racional de modos (ou meios) para a consecução desse fim. Dado que o agente só pode ser virtuoso se efetivamente realizar ações conforme seu propósito, fica claro que a virtude do caráter depende da sensatez, porque é a sensatez que se responsabiliza por delimitar os modos eficazes e apropriados para a realização de ações conforme ao propósito. O trabalho da sensatez é duplo: em um primeiro plano, a sensatez conduz o raciocínio deliberativo e especifica o desejo em um propósito factível; em um segundo plano, a sensatez avalia os fatores singulares envolvidos nas circunstâncias de cada ação. Por outro lado, a sensatez também depende da virtude do caráter: sem a correção do fim, garantida pela virtude do caráter, a mera habilidade em especificar modos apropriados de realizar fins seria apenas destreza (cf. 1144a23-29). 1144a13-20: "alguns que praticam as coisas justas ainda não são justos etc.": esta passagem deve ser comparada com EN II, 1105a28-33ss. Neste último trecho, Aristóteles estabelece uma série de requisitos para discernir se uma dada ação realmente é uma ação virtuosa: não basta que a ação apresente as características (por assim dizer) externas pelas quais ela poderia ser descrita pela lei ou por um código moral, pois lhe é preciso satisfazer uma série de exigências igualmente importantes: (I) ser executada de modo consciente (não involuntário), com conhecimento do que se faz, (II) ter sido escolhida pelo seu valor moral intrínseco, (III) ser executada de modo firme e sem conflito Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 337 interno. Já na passagem que comentamos, Aristóteles retoma apenas a exigência (II), pois isso lhe basta no contexto (ver comentário seguinte). 1144a19-20: "por um propósito e em vista das próprias ações": Aristóteles quer ressaltar o papel imprescindível que o propósito desempenha na determinação do valor moral da ação. A ação que a lei descreve (de um ponto de vista "externo") como justa será uma ação virtuosa apenas se for executada de acordo com o propósito que reconhece a justiça como um bem em si mesmo – isto é, o propósito que deseja a justiça como um bem e almeja realizá-la não devido a quaisquer vantagens ulteriores, mas devido ao valor moral instrínseco das ações justas em si mesmas. 1144a20-22: "é a virtude que faz o propósito ser bom, mas tudo aquilo que compete fazer em vista dele não compete à virtude, mas a outra capacidade": "virtude", neste contexto, se refere à virtude do caráter (cf. 1144a7-8, 1106b36-1107a2): de fato, é a virtude do caráter que, sendo uma habilitação relativa ao propósito, faz o propósito ser moralmente bom (cf. EE 1227b12-15, 1228a1-2). Alguém poderia objetar que esse ponto parece contradizer o que Aristóteles afirma em 1145a4-5, a saber, que a correção do propósito depende da sensatez. Esta última afirmação, além do mais, parece coadunar-se com a análise das noções de propósito e deliberação feita em EN III: se o propósito é o ponto de chegada de um processo de deliberação, e se a deliberação é de competência da sensatez, seria de se esperar que Aristóteles dissesse que a sensatez é que é responsável pela correção do propósito. No entanto, não há nenhuma inconsistência entre essas afirmações. Por um lado, é claro que a sensatez é responsável pela parte noética envolvida no propósito: a sensatez deve delimitar, pelo raciocínio correto, os meios apropriados para a execução do fim envolvido no propósito (cf. EE 1227b391228a1). Por outro lado, é a virtude do caráter que garante a correção do desejo envolvido no propósito: a virtude do caráter faz o desejo acolher como fim aquilo que é moralmente correto (cf. EE 1228a1-2). 1144a23-29: "uma capacidade que chamam 'destreza' etc.": a destreza (deinotes) é definida por Aristóteles como uma habilidade em providenciar modos ou meios para realizar um dado fim. Em si mesma, a destreza não envolve nenhuma consideração moral: ela é mera habilidade instrumental, que não leva em conta a qualidade moral dos fins e, portanto, não é nem boa Lucas Angioni 338 nem má, do ponto de vista moral – a destreza em si mesma não envolve uma proharesis boa ou uma má (cf. 1152a11-14). Os fins que a destreza se propõe a realizar podem ser ruins – a destreza torna-se, assim, esperteza ou velhacaria – ou podem ser bons, de modo que a destreza se torna, nesse caso, sensatez. 1144a29-30: "essa habilitação desse olho da alma": essa expressão se refere à sensatez. Descrever sua sede como um olho da alma sugere que ela é como que capaz de ver ou perceber imediatamente os fatores singulares relevantes para a realização da ação virtuosa. 1144a31-33: "os silogismos a respeito das ações etc.": Aristóteles emprega o termo "silogismo", mas não tem nenhuma teoria coerente e sistemática sobre sua aplicação às ações. Não fica claro se o silogismo seria a ferramenta pela qual a deliberação progride (dos fins para os meios, das regras universais para as regras específicas ou para os preceitos singulares etc.), ou apenas um instrumento para esquematizar, no plano da teoria moral, a justificação da ação que um agente adotaria. Aristóteles não descreve, nesta passagem, nenhuma propriedade formal do silogismo prático, tampouco tenta formular um silogismo desse tipo. Antes, ele está interessado nos princípios que tais silogismos assumem. É a forma geral desses princípios que ele tenta formular: "dado que o fim e o que é melhor é tal e tal coisa ...". Mas essa proposição ainda é vaga demais para representar a forma geral da premissa maior dos silogismos práticos. Ora, tais silogismos deveriam ter como conclusão preceitos exeqüíveis, e, para tanto, não basta que a premissa maior identifique o fim a tal e tal coisa ou defina o fim em tais e tais termos; é preciso que ela introduza uma relação entre o fim (termo mediador) e certa exigência para sua realização, a qual resulte na especificação de um modo apropriado de realizá-lo – e esse modo seria o termo maior. Mas Aristóteles não é claro, nesta passagem, quanto ao sentido que se deve atribuir a "toionde". Por outro lado, muitos presumem que a conclusão do silogismo prático seria uma ação, não uma proposição. Ainda que essa tese fosse acertada (pois lhe falta evidência textual mesmo em Motu Animalium 701a12-13), ela transformaria a noção de "silogismo prático" em algo que não seria nem sequer análogo ao silogismo: o uso da expressão "silogismo prático" teria passado dos limites da licença metafórica. Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 339 1144a34: "esse fim não se evidencia senão ao homem bom": ver os comentários a 1140b18. O verbo "phainetai" não designa aqui mero fenômeno cognitivo (tornar-se evidente ao entendimento etc.), mas a imposição de algo ao assentimento moral do agente. Cf. 1113a30-31, 1114b14-15, 17. 1144b1: "devemos examinar de novo também a virtude": por que Aristóteles julga necessário investigar de novo sobre a virtude? Em EN II, a relação entre virtude do caráter e sensatez ficou inscrita na própria definição da virtude (1107a1-2), mas pouco se especificaram seus termos precisos. No início de EN VI, Aristóteles anuncia a necessidade de explicar melhor como a "razão correta" – que é expressão da sensatez – obtém determinações mais específicas da mediedade. Desde então, Aristóteles buscou caracterizar a sensatez. É natural que, no desfecho da discussão, ele retome o assunto do ponto de vista da virtude do caráter. Haveria alguma relação mais intrínseca entre a delimitação mais específica das mediedades (cujo tratamento prévio exigia complementação) e a distinção entre virtude natural e virtude propriamente dita (que é a novidade introduzida neste capítulo)? Sugiro uma resposta afirmativa: a virtude natural pode ser prejudicial e não é uma virtude propriamente dita porque lhe falta a contraparte intelectual que é requisitada para a delimitação correta das mediedades. 1144b3: "a virtude natural etc.": o assunto é controverso, mas não a virtude natural não é, a rigor, uma virtude: ela não se encaixa na definição geral de virtude oferecida em 1106a15-21, ou seja, ela não deixa seu possuidor necessariamente em bom estado (ao contrário, às vezes ela é prejudicial, cf. 1144b9) e ela não o habilita a desempenhar bem sua função própria. A virtude natural é apenas uma aptidão ou, talvez, uma propensão natural a fazer o bem (cf. Irwin, 1999, p. 254), mas sem inteligência e sem sensatez, de modo que ela pode levar a um "estatelamento moral" proporcional à sua força: o agente não atina com a ação correta e não realiza o bem. Pode uma tal propensão ser chamada de virtude no sentido estrito do termo? Claro que não: a distinção que Aristóteles aqui propõe é exatamente entre virtude no sentido estrito do termo e algo que tem alguma semelhança exterior com a virtude. Aristóteles não o diz, mas não seria exagero sugerir que a virtude natural é chamada de "virtude" apenas por homonímia. A virtude natural Lucas Angioni 340 não satisfaz nem a definição de virtude do caráter (1106b37-1107a2) nem a definição geral de virtude (1106a15-21). 1144b3: "não é a mesma relação, mas uma relação semelhante": é importante notar que os predicados na sentença "ou tauto men, homoion de" não se referem a nenhum dos quatro itens relacionados, mas às relações entre eles. Aristóteles não está a dizer que a virtude natural é semelhante à destreza, ou semelhante à virtude propriamente dita etc. Ele está a dizer que a relação entre virtude natural e virtude propriamente dita é semelhante à relação entre destreza e sensatez. Além do mais, ao ressaltar que se trata de semelhança e não de identidade entre as duas relações, Aristóteles deixa claro que a analogia não é estrita, mas vaga. Assim como a destreza não é suficiente por si mesma para realizar o que é moralmente correto, mas às vezes realiza o mal, e, para realizar o bem, precisa tornar-se sensatez, de modo similar a virtude natural não é suficiente por si mesma para realizar o que é moralmente correto, mas às vezes é prejudicial etc. e, para realizar o bem, precisa tornar-se virtude propriamente dita. As relações, no entanto, são apenas similares mas não idênticas, porque, de um lado, a destreza torna-se sensatez quando se lhe acrescenta a adoção do fim moralmente bom (pois a diferença entre destreza e sensatez se dá pela prohairesis, 1152a14), ao passo que, do outro lado, a virtude natural torna-se virtude propriamente dita quando se lhe acrescenta a inteligência (ou a correta avaliação) dos "meios", sobretudo dos fatores singulares. 1144b5: "inclinados à temperança" traduz "sophronikoi", que não parece designar exatamente o mesmo que "sophrones" ("temperantes"). 1144b8-9: "as habilitações naturais ocorrem às crianças etc.": as aptidões naturais – que não podem ser chamadas de "virtudes" no sentido estrito do termo – ocorrem em crianças e até mesmo em animais, o que mostra que elas não são acompanhadas por nenhum conhecimento racional. 1144b9: "sem inteligência": de que tipo de inteligência se trata? A virtude natural é desprovida não apenas do pensamento que, deliberando sobre modos apropriados à realização de dado fim, está consubstanciado no propósito (cf. 1139a33-34, b4), mas também da inteligência que avalia, como que perceptualmente, a relevância dos fatores singulares envolvidos em cada Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 341 ação (cf. 1143b2-5, 1142a25-30). O fato de Aristóteles dizer que essa inteligência parece ser natural (1143b6-7) não gera nenhuma dificuldade, pois a sensatez exige experiência (cf. 1143b13-14). Assim, a virtude natural parece ser inapta não apenas a formular os propósitos corretos, mas também a avaliar corretamente a relevância moral dos fatores singulares de cada ação. É por isso que ela pode ser prejudicial. Ver o comentário seguinte. 1144b12-13: "se se adquire inteligência, isso faz diferença no agir": qual seria a diferença no agir? Alguns julgam que se trata apenas de uma diferença na capacidade de justificar a ação moral pelas razões corretas. Essa diferença, no entanto, jamais poderia ser descrita pela expressão "en toi prattein". A diferença no agir (no efetuar a ação) diz respeito à eliminação do fator prejudicial, ou seja, diz respeito à eficiência na delimitação precisa daquilo em que consiste a realização do propósito correto em cada circunstância. A mera propensão natural à generosidade, por exemplo, poderia levar uma criança a doar todo o salário dos pais a um ladrão. De modo similar, a mesma propensão poderia levar alguém a errar na execução de um propósito correto pela avaliação indevida dos fatores singulares, como no caso em que alguém doasse uma quantia indevida a um pedinte, na ocasião errada, no local errado etc. – se doasse, por exemplo, duzentos reais para um mendigo em um local e um momento em que ele certamente seria roubado e espancado pelos meliantes que o observam. Uma tal ação – que não avaliou corretamente os fatores singulares que estavam à disposição do agente e que deveriam ter sido avaliados – de modo algum contaria para Aristóteles como ação virtuosa propriamente dita, pois falhou fatalmente no cômputo dos fatores singulares requisitados para a realização do bem. 1144b16: "virtude propriamente dita": fica claro, pelos comentários anteriores, que o adjetivo "kuria" neste contexto não quer dizer "principal" ou "a mais importante" (o que pressuporia a existência de outra, "menos importante"), nem funciona como uma espécie de superlativo. Tal adjetivo demarca a virtude que realmente é virtude no sentido estrito da palavra, de modo que a aptidão chamada de "virtude natural" é assim chamada apenas por força de alguma semelhança (cf. 1117a4-5). Em EE 1234a27-34, ao considerar sentimentos moralmente relevantes, como o pudor, a inveja etc., Aristóteles menciona a virtude natural de modo mais positivo, mas seu pronunciamento (1234a28-29), além de ser explicitamente provisório e Lucas Angioni 342 prometer uma discussão posterior, apenas sugere que tais virtudes são propícias para o engendramento da virtude propriamente dita. 1144b16-17: "a virtude propriamente dita não se engendra sem sensatez": a virtude propriamente dita depende da sensatez para (I) atingir, pelo raciocínio deliberativo acertado, propósitos específicos e exeqüíveis, bem como para (I) avaliar corretamente a relevância dos fatores singulares na realização de cada ação. Aristóteles cumpre, assim, o objetivo anunciado em 1138b20, 32-34: ele mostrou de que modo o orthos logos da sensatez (I) obtém uma delimitação mais específica do "alvo" almejado pela virtude do caráter e, com isso, (II) garante a realização efetiva dos propósitos corretos. Há, no entanto, interdependência entre sensatez e virtude do caráter: também a primeira depende da segunda para a adoção do propósito moralmente correto (cf. 1144a26-b1, 1144b31-32). 1144b18-21: "Sócrates investigava com acerto etc.": Sócrates errou ao julgar que todas as virtudes do caráter seriam redutíveis a uma virtude intelectual, como se o conhecimento do bem fosse causa suficiente para agir bem, independentemente da habituação da parte irracional da alma nos sentimentos de prazer e dor. Mas Sócrates intuiu algo na direção correta, pois o fator intelectual tem peso decisivo nas virtudes do caráter. 1144b23: "de acordo com o raciocínio correto": há infinitas controvérsias sobre o sentido dessa expressão – não apenas sobre o sentido de "orthos logos", mas até mesmo sobre o sentido da preposição "kata". Uma coisa é certa, porém: o orthos logos de Aristóteles não tem nada a ver com uma suposta regra moral já pronta, a ser aplicada em cada circunstância etc.; "orthos logos" designa o procedimento de obter, pelo uso do logos (da parte racional da alma), a especificação correta de um alvo ou propósito, especificação imediatamente aplicável em uma dada circustância singular. Ou seja, não se trata de uma regra moral de antemão pronta, mas da especificação racional de uma regra genérica pela avaliação apropriada dos fatores singulares. Aristóteles é vago a esse respeito, mas muito do que ele diz sugere fortemente que orthos logos pode designar não apenas a deliberação correta que se finaliza na formulação de um propósito, mas também a avaliação como que perceptual e imediata das circunstâncias singulares de cada ação. Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 343 1144b25-26: "é preciso fazer uma pequena mudança": a mudança que Aristóteles propõe na definição usual de virtude do caráter não envolve apenas a troca da preposição "kata" pela preposição "meta", mas uma alteração no sentido de "logos". Ambos os elementos são importantes. A preposição "kata" pode sugerir uma determinação suficiente do caráter pelo conhecimento, ou bem uma mera adequação extrínseca entre a ação e uma regra moral, sem a satisfação dos requisitos adicionais evocados em 1144a17-20. A preposição "meta", por sua vez, é mais modesta (eliminando a sugestão de suficiência) e parece eliminar a intepretação de "logos" como regra moral a ser aplicada (embora isso seja discutível). Mas há, também, uma alteração no sentido de "logos": no enunciado usual (cf. 1103b32), "logos" introduzia ou uma regra moral ou o conhecimento racional dos preceitos morais (ver nota seguinte); já no enunciado aristotélico, o "logos" em questão é algo bem mais preciso: é o procedimento de determinar um propósito adequado e especificá-lo ainda mais, em atenção aos fatores singulares envolvidos em cada ação. 1144b27, 29, 30: é difícil – e talvez não seja desejável – traduzir todas as ocorrências de "logos" neste contexto por uma mesma expressão, pois, como dissemos, a mudança que Aristóteles propõe na definição de virtude do caráter envolve também uma alteração no sentido de "logos". O sentido básico subjacente é o de conhecimento racional: Sócrates (1144b29) dizia que as virtudes são logoi no sentido de conhecimentos racionais, mas Aristóteles afirma que elas são acompanhadas por conhecimentos racionais, a saber, pelo uso correto da razão no raciocínio deliberativo e no cômputo dos fatores singulares relevantes. 1144b30-32: "não é possível ser propriamente bom sem sensatez etc.": há, portanto, forte interdependência entre a virtude do caráter e a sensatez. Cf. 1145a4-6, 1144a26-b1, 1144b16-17. 1144b32-1145a2: "por essa via que se pode refutar o argumento etc.": é objeto de controvérsia discernir qual é o argumento a ser refutado. Alguns julgam que Aristóteles se refere à tese da interconexão entre as virtudes do caráter (tal como o assunto surge em Protágoras 329c-d); outros julgam que Aristóteles está a discutir tão apenas a separabilidade entre virtude do caráter (em geral) e sensatez. Prefiro a segunda opção, pois ela é muito mais adequada ao contexto e a única dificuldade exegética a ser enfrentada consistiria no quantificador "todas" ("apasas", "pasai") em 1144b34 e 1145a2, o qual pareceria soar exagerado se a Lucas Angioni 344 referência fosse apenas a duas virtudes (a sensatez como virtude intelectual e a virtude do caráter em geral), não às múltiplas virtudes do caráter. No entanto, essa dificuldade não é muito séria: uma premissa universal como "ninguém é naturalmente apto a ter todas as virtudes" pode ser perfeitamente usada para inferir que "alguém pode não ser naturalmente apto a possuir virtude do caráter e sensatez", bem como para inferir que "alguém pode não ser naturalmente apto a possuir sabedoria e virtude do caráter" ou até mesmo para inferir algo como "alguém pode não ser naturalmente apto a possuir coragem e generosidade" etc. Outra suposta dificuldade contra a segunda opção será discutida no comentário seguinte (por outro lado, 1146a8-9 não constitui nenhuma evidência em favor da primeira opção). 1145a1-2: "todas ocorrem junto com a sensatez, que é uma só": o ponto mais difícil nesta sentença, em vista do debate mencionado no comentário anterior, consiste no quantificador "pasai" ("todas") em 1145a2. Outros problemas filológicos podem ser discutidos (por exemplo, se o dativo "phronesei" é regido por "hama" ou por "hyparxousin", se se deve ler "hyparchousei" ou "ousei"), mas eles não interferem tanto na compreensão do argumento. O quantificador "pasai", no entanto, pode ser tomado ou no sentido distributivo ("cada virtude, respectivamente") ou no sentido conjuntivo ("todas as virtudes juntas"). A interpretação distributiva basta para eliminar qualquer dificuldade contra a segunda opção mencionada no comentário anterior. O que Aristóteles quer dizer é que cada virtude moral, respectivamente, depende da sensatez e não se pode dar sem ela, ao passo que a sensatez depende apenas da virtude do caráter genericamente, sem depender especificamente desta ou daquela virtude, sem depender do conjunto de todas elas. O seguinte exemplo pode elucidar o ponto: suponha uma casa com uma única linha telefônica e quatro aparelhos conectados por extensão à mesma linha; ora, todos os aparelhos (isto é, cada um, respectivamente) dependem da linha para funcionar, ao passo que a linha depende de algum dos aparelhos para funcionar, sem depender determinadamente deste ou daquele e, mais importante, sem depender dos quatro aparelhos em bloco. A observação contida na frase "que é uma só" apenas demarca essa assimetria numérica nas relações de dependência mútua (por isso, inclusive, preferimos a lição ousei em 1145a2). 1145a3-4: "precisaríamos dela porque ela é a virtude de uma parte": cf. 1144a1-3. Dissertatio, UFPel [34, 2011] 303 345 345 1145a4-5: "o propósito correto não se pode dar sem sensatez nem sem virtude": mais uma vez, Aristóteles assinala a interdependência entre sensatez e virtude do caráter (cf. 1144b30-32, 1144a26-b1, 1144b16-17). A correção moral do propósito é, pelo lado da habituação do desejo, garantida pela virtude moral (cf. 1144a20), mas não se perfaz sem a colaboração da sensatez, que determina por deliberação os termos específicos em que o propósito propõe a realização do fim moralmente correto. Além do mais, a sensatez é requisitada para aplicar o propósito do modo adequado, pela avaliação dos fatores singulares. 1145a5-6: "uma [nos faz fazer] o fim, a outra leva a fazer as coisas que conduzem ao fim": essa divisão do trabalho entre virtude do caráter e sensatez concorda plenamente com o que foi dito em 1144a6-9 e 1144a20-22. Do ponto de vista filológico, esta sentença é difícil pela ausência de verbo em sua primeira metade. Julgamos que "poiei prattein" está já suposto na primeira metade da sentença, de modo que Aristóteles está a dizer que a virtude nos faz fazer, isto é, nos motiva a fazer, o fim. Outra opção seria assumir em 1145a5 expressão similar às que encontramos em 1144a6 e 1144a20: "uma [sc. a virtude] faz o fim [ser correto]". 1145a6-11: "a sensatez tampouco é mais importante que a sabedoria": Aristóteles agora responde ao impasse formulado em 1143b34-35. Recebido em: agosto de 2011 Aprovado em: outubro de 2011 Email: [email protected]
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
A PROVA HISTÓRICA NA CONCEPÇÃO RETÓRICA DE ARISTÓTELES RESUMO O objetivo deste estudo é compreender como Aristóteles opera sua síntese teórica entre história e poética a partir da Retórica, captando elementos opostos e contraditórios, e propondo soluções que os harmonizem, de modo a dar conta de explicar a maior gama possível de fatos passados. Desse modo, adentraremos num pensar filosófico aristotélico sobre o passado com posições próprias e diversificadas, reunido em espécies distintas de saber: epistêmico, prático e poético. Paralelamente a essa diversidade, queremos corrigir uma imagem de Aristóteles como apenas analítico-lógico ou empirista, superando equívocos interpretativos referentes ao cunho filosófico de sua obra científica. Palavras-chave: Retórica, Poética, história, prova. Daniel Vecchio Alves Recebido em: 31/05/2019 | Aceito em: 23/07/2019 | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 p. 9-20 | Set. Dez./2018 10 | Daniel Vecchio Alves REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 | Set. Dez./2018 | p. 9-20. | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec THE HISTORICAL EVIDENCE IN ARISTOTLE'S RHETORICAL CONCEPTION ABSTRACT The aim of this study is to understand how Aristotle operates his theoretical synthesis between history and poetics from Rhetoric, grasping opposing and contradictory elements, and proposing solutions that harmonize them, in order to explain the greatest possible range of past events. In this way, we will enter into an Aristotelian philosophical thinking about the past with its own and diverse positions, gathered in different species of knowledge: epistemic, practical and poetic. Parallel to this diversity, we want to correct an image of Aristotle as only analytical-logical or empiricist, overcoming interpretative misconceptions regarding the philosophical character of his scientific work. Key-words: Rhetoric, Poetic, history, proof. LA PRUEBA HISTÓRICA EN LA CONCEPCIÓN RETÓRICA DE ARISTÓTELES RESUMEN El objetivo de este estudio es comprender cómo Aristóteles opera su síntesis teórica entre historia y poética a partir de la Retórica, captando elementos opuestos y contradictorios, y proponiendo soluciones que los armonicen, para dar cuenta de explicar la mayor gama posible de hechos pasados. De este modo, adentraremos en un pensamiento filosófico aristotélico sobre el pasado con posiciones propias y diversificadas, reunido en especies distintas de saber: epistémico, práctico y poético. Paralelamente a esta diversidad, queremos corregir una imagen de Aristóteles como apenas analítico-lógico o empirista, superando equívocos interpretativos referentes al cuño filosófico de su obra científica. Palabras clave: Retórica, Poética, historia, prueba. A PROVA HISTÓRICA NA CONCEPÇÃO RETÓRICA DE ARISTÓTELES | 11 REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 | Set. Dez./2018 | p. 9-20. | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec Levando em consideração o surgimento efetivo da histo-riografia, que ocorreu mais sistematicamente ao longo do período clássico a partir dos registros de pensadores como Platão, Aristóteles, Heródoto e Tucídides, o presente artigo objetiva fazer um balanço do quanto o pensador estagirita começou a delinear uma explicação mais satisfatória para as questões da verdade e da representação do passado, que são questões constituintes das provas que dão base ao discurso judiciário. Com esses pontos em evidência, ocorreu a denominação de um novo lugar para a apreensão dos fatos e dos fenômenos históricos, marcando um novo topos disciplinar que passou a se diferir da poética de extração histórica, gênero textual esse que também era bastante produzido no mencionado período histórico. Tratou-se, para Aristóteles, do desafio de representar as ações humanas de acordo com a construção de um processo simultaneamente heurístico e hermenêutico da experiência. Partindo dessa premissa, tal estudo consiste em abordar a investigação não somente da prova histórica, mas de todo um conjunto de operações, de atitudes, de escolhas, de apreciações na exploração do passado e do mundo que surge ao longo da Retórica de Aristóteles. Para esse filósofo, seus predecessores, como Platão e os sofistas, teriam se aproximado de uma representação do passado, sem, entretanto, terem sido capazes de produzir uma teoria que abarcasse mais sistematicamente o delineamento de seus fenômenos. Portanto, nosso objetivo é compreender como Aristóteles opera uma síntese teórica entre história e poética a partir da Retórica, captando elementos opostos e contraditórios, e propondo soluções que os harmonizem, de modo a dar conta de explicar a maior gama possível de fatos passados. Desse modo, adentraremos num pensar filosófico sobre o passado com posições próprias e diversificadas, reunido pelo filósofo em espécies distintas de saber: epistêmico, prático e poético. Paralelamente a essa diversidade, queremos corrigir uma imagem de Aristóteles como apenas analítico-lógico ou empirista, superando equívocos interpretativos referentes à sua obra científica e filosófica. Mostraremos que o estagirita não pode ser classificado somente como um filósofo empirista que percorreu o itinerário do idealismo ao indutivismo, da Metafísica à Física, ou da Poética aos tratados. Nem mesmo é correto taxá-lo apenas como filósofo analítico ou filósofo da exatidão matemática. Por essas razões, apresentaremos as racionalidades desenvolvidas por Aristóteles, enfatizando a distinta forma dialética da qual a poética, a história e a retórica são tributárias. Uma vez superadas as visões deturpadas de Aristóteles e da racionalidade empírica que limitam sua imagem e seu pensamento, poderemos relacioná-lo com problemas filosóficos e científicos que contribuem para o atual debate ficcional e, sobretudo, historiográfico. 1. POESIA E HISTÓRIA NA POÉTICA Ao começarmos por traçar as reflexões de Aristóteles a partir de seus estudos poéticos, percebe-se sem dificuldade a oposição que o norteia. Numa sutil distinção, Aristóteles insinua, em sua mencionada obra, a constituição do conhecimento do geral a partir da poesia e o estabelecimento do conhecimento do particular a partir da história: O historiador e o poeta não diferem pelo fato de um escrever em prosa e o outro em verso. Diferem é pelo fato de um relatar o que aconteceu e outro o que poderia acontecer. Portanto, a poesia é mais filosófica e tem um caráter mais elevado do que a História. É que a poesia expressa o universal, a História o particular. O universal é aquilo que certa pessoa dirá ou fará, de acordo com a verossimilhança ou a necessidade, e é isso que a poesia procura representar, atribuindo depois nomes às personagens O particular é, por exemplo, o que fez Alcibíades (general ateniense) ou o que lhe aconteceu. (ARISTÓTELES, 2004, 1451 b 4-5). Segundo o filósofo, é por estar voltada para a apreensão do geral no campo da práxis humana que a poesia situa-se como instância produtora de saber por uma inspiração mais elevada e grave, assinalando- -lhe aspirações de vocação filosófica. Tal característica torna a poesia distinta da história, que, por sua 12 | Daniel Vecchio Alves REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 | Set. Dez./2018 | p. 9-20. | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec vez, se atém e esgota seu discurso na exposição do particular. Certamente que tais conclusões aristotélicas revertem as teses apresentadas em A República de Platão, para quem o traço distintivo de grande parte da poesia era a total ignorância no que concerne às ações humanas, uma atividade avessa à filosofia: "enquanto a mímesis platônica afasta em dois graus a obra de arte do modelo ideal que é seu fundamento último, a mímesis de Aristóteles tem um único espaço de desdobramento: o fazer humano, as artes de composição" (RICOEUR, 2010, v.1, p. 61-62). A poesia, para Aristóteles, é mimesis da ação conformada em mythos. É justamente argumentando a favor de uma proposição mítica enquanto fim superior da mimética, que Aristóteles torna a poesia uma modalidade humana cognitiva afim e próxima da filosofia: "Mas o mais importante de todos não é a imitação dos homens, mas das acções e da vida" (ARISTÓTELES, 2004, 1450a 15-17). Para Aristóteles, na trilha da poesia, o homem não desvirtua sua existência em ignorância, antes aspira à verdade pela sua proximidade à representação de suas ações, assim, pelo contrário, a poesia dialoga com a potência filosófica do intelecto. Além disso, ao opor poesia e história, Aristóteles elabora uma reflexão sobre a história como expressão denotativa de particularidade factual, tomando como base o exemplo do modo como Heródoto constrói a escrita de suas Histórias, mais particularmente no momento em que contempla o acontecimento que "Alcibíades fez ou passou" (ARISTÓTELES, 2004, 1451 b 12). Diante dessa definição, o historiador não é um realizador de intrigas, visto que a história é excluída da problemática do mythos. A história, na sua concepção, não é um constructo, mas sim um discurso episódico, que, como a crônica, propõe relatar "o que aconteceu". Nessa perspectiva, a história teria por marca definidora a expressão da verdade factual, concebida para dizer o que se passou ou "narrar o que aconteceu" (Aristóteles, 2004, 1451b 5), sem qualquer distorção ou enviesamentos, exigindo do historiador a disposição de um pensamento transparente, que possui a habilidade para refletir em palavras a imagem do que foi a manifestação fenomênica de um dado evento. Por isso, o filósofo caracteriza o que ocorreu pelo particular e sem se ater ao que poderia ocorrer pelo geral: "O geral é o tipo de coisa que um certo tipo de homem faz ou diz, provável ou necessariamente" (ARISTÓTELES, 2004, 1451b 6). Logo após tratar da oposição entre poesia e história, Aristóteles elogia os trágicos por terem se atido "aos nomes de homens realmente comprovados. E o motivo é este: o possível é persuasivo; ainda não acreditamos ser possível o que não ocorreu, ao passo que é evidente que o que ocorreu é possível" (ARISTÓTELES, 2004, 1451b 15-18). O que queremos demonstrar, com isso, é que Aristóteles inicia, na Poética, um argumento histórico com base no distanciamento da composição da intriga, para exigir, assim, uma distinção entre os campos em questão (história e poética), estipulando diferentes níveis explicativos. No entanto, em obras posteriores, Aristóteles realiza alterações nessa comparação, retirando o caráter unicamente episódico da história, o que lhe possibilitou se aproximar das formas universais de representação do passado, delineando a memória sob o amparo da filosofia e da poética. Mesmo com esses avanços efetuados a partir da Retórica, por muito tempo as revisitações de Aristóteles às fronteiras entre poesia e história foram ofuscadas pela famosa distinção desses campos sedimentada pela Poética. A contribuição mais recente a esse ofuscamento se deveu aos conceitualistas que, durante a segunda metade do século XX, atacaram a fronteira proposta por Aristóteles para submeter a história inteiramente aos princípios tropológico da poética, reduzindo, assim, a análise histórica a uma busca pela noção de intriga na qual a dimensão temporal perde toda sua importância. Segundo Hayden White, por exemplo, "[...] a realização, por parte do historiador de um "ato essencialmente poético, prefigura o campo histórico, [...]. Seguindo a tradição desde Aristóteles dou a esses tipos de prefiguração os nomes dos quatro tropos da linguagem poética: metáfora, metonímia, sinédoque e ironia" (WHITE, 1995, p.12). A PROVA HISTÓRICA NA CONCEPÇÃO RETÓRICA DE ARISTÓTELES | 13 REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 | Set. Dez./2018 | p. 9-20. | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec Por outro lado, em Aristóteles e a história, mais uma vez, François Hartog se mostra mais atento e procura mostrar que o próprio Aristóteles também extrapola a oposição entre história e poética proposta na Poética, reconhecendo mais cautelosamente, na Retórica, as universalidades da história. Sua cautela se traduz no peculiar tratamento da prova e sua aproximação ao entimema, núcleo probabilístico da ocorrência dos fatos, do qual trataremos mais adiante. Não há dúvidas quanto ao fato de que Aristóteles falará mais aprofundadamente da história (especificamente de seu núcleo fundamental) ao longo de sua Retórica. Para Paul Ricoeur (2010), por exemplo, o reposicionamento da história nessa obra aproxima a história da intriga poética de uma forma mais produtiva, no sentido de que a mediação de traços temporais reforça a ideia de uma síntese heterogênea de fatos implicados no dinamismo constitutivo da própria configuração narrativa, organizando assim uma ontologia de episódios históricos gerais e particulares Carlo Ginzburg, como Hartog, também nos aconselha a procurar mais a Retórica do que a Poética para nos aproximarmos das apreciações mais avançadas de Aristóteles sobre a história: "[...] uma reflexão sobre história, retórica e prova deve recomeçar do texto que Nietzsche, depois de traduzir e estudar para as suas próprias aulas de Basiléia, acabou por deixar de lado: a Retórica de Aristóteles." (GINZBURG, 2002, p. 40). Segundo o historiador italiano, "a redescoberta da retórica, e da retórica de Aristóteles em particular, teve pouco eco nas discussões recentes sobre a metodologia da história" (Ginzburg, 2002, p. 40). Tal constatação aponta que a história contemporânea tem se movido mais no âmbito de uma verdade científica, de perspectiva factual, ou de uma história que se quer somente problema, extremamente individual e relativista, pois aproximar história e retórica é compreender, antes de tudo, que ambas percorrem o âmbito do provável, o âmbito mediador da verdade ontológica que perpassa tanto pela experiência quanto pelo intelecto, longe de conceitos absolutos. 2. A HISTÓRIA REVISTA NA RETÓRICA A grande atenção dada até hoje ao Aristóteles da Poética para realizar uma oposição entre história e poesia nos remete, primeiro, para o sintoma de que a intelectualidade contemporânea ainda apresenta considerável dificuldade em compreender conceitos e ideias híbridas, traçando ainda um comparativo superficial entre história e ficção; em segundo lugar, remete-nos para a questão de que o aristotelismo que nós conhecemos é menos de Aristóteles que dos seus comentaristas. Logo, distanciando-nos dos enviesamentos e defasagens críticas, e tomando por base a construção da noção de história por esse filósofo, veremos que sua Retórica revisa efetivamente os meios de representar o passado, afastando-se das definições categóricas traçadas na Poética. Inicialmente, é preciso assinalar que é especificamente no discurso judiciário que Aristóteles realiza tal revisão conceitual. Esse reposicionamento se justifica pelo fato de ter sido durante o século V a.C., período ateniense de guerra contra o império Persa, que o filósofo desenvolveu seu estudo, aproveitando ao máximo a conjuntura dos problemas políticos, financeiros, militares e a luta entre aristocracia e democracia, como temas mais debatidos pelos oradores e juízes da cidade. Nesse período inicial, portanto, "a arte da eloquência foi praticamente reduzida ao gênero judicial" (ROHDEN, 1997, p. 29), e isso fez com que a história fosse aprimorada de certa forma. Tendo em vista o aperfeiçoamento da arte da retórica deliberativa nos livros I e II da Retórica, Aristóteles começa por classificar e definir os modos de persuasão ou provas, os písteis. Desse modo, na Retórica de Aristóteles encontramos, desde o início, um modelo discursivo com base no reconhecimento de provas (ta tekmeria): "Ora, os que até hoje compuseram tratados de retórica ocuparam-se apenas de uma parte dessa arte; [...]. Eles, porém, nada dizem dos entimemas, que são afinal o corpo da prova, antes dedicam a maior parte dos seus tratados a questões exteriores ao assunto; [...]" (ARISTÓTELES, 2005, 1354a). 14 | Daniel Vecchio Alves REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 | Set. Dez./2018 | p. 9-20. | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec Na elaboração desse sistema de provas, Aristóteles tinha em vista apurar a forma judiciária da retórica, encarregada da análise das ações humanas, incluindo especialmente as "ações passadas": "Ora, é necessário que o ouvinte, ou seja, o espectador ou juiz se pronunciem sobre o passado ou sobre o futuro. O que se pronuncia sobre o futuro é, por exemplo, um membro de uma assembléia; o que se pronuncia sobre o passado é o juiz; [...]" (ARISTÓTELES, 2005, 1358b). Ao contrário da retórica deliberativa, encarregada das ações futuras, e da retórica epidêitica, que rege o louvor e a censura das ações presentes, o gênero judicial foi baseado em provas sobre o passado, sendo assim um tipo peculiar de demonstração histórica. Segundo Aristóteles, para se demonstrar na retórica judicial, com fins persuasivos, usamos o entimema, ou silogismo abreviado, proveniente de quatro referências possíveis: "o verossímil (eikos), o exemplo (paradeigma), a prova necessária (tekmeria) e o signo (semeion). As únicas conclusões irrefutáveis são as formadas por meio de entimemas baseados em provas necessárias (tekmeria)" (ARISTÓTELES, 2005, 1356ab). Dos demais entimemas, só é possível tirar conclusões que permanecem no campo do provável. Logo, as probabilidades de sentido devem sempre partir de uma prova necessária (tekmeria) para efetivar um processo coerente de significação do passado. Com o estabelecimento de uma ligação indutiva a conceitos universais é que o entimema, além de ser um elemento característico do discurso judiciário, cumpre um importante papel também no trabalho investigativo do historiador, principalmente por explorar o ponto vital e seguro da semântica de um testemunho, chegando assim às interpretações possíveis de um evento ocorrido. É nesse exato ponto que a prática de inferir se difere da prática de especular na retórica aristotélica. Portanto, o que temos é uma "retórica judiciária se movendo no âmbito do passado provável, não no da verdade [absoluta], e numa perspectiva delimitada, longe do etnocentrismo inocente." (ZANIN, 2009, p. 52-53). Nesse sentido, Aristóteles demonstra que o discurso sobre o passado também parte, por outro lado, de inferências projetadas com base num núcleo essencial, que consiste em conexões naturais, seguras e necessárias (tekmeria), por partir sempre da memória ou da opinião coletiva (dóxa) de um acontecimento (a guerra de Tróia e a luta comercial pelo ponto Euxino) e não somente de uma percepção individual como a apreensão de um sentimento (a fúria de Aquiles e os amores entre Páris e Helena). Ademais, na compreensão e fundamentação ontológica desse entimema, Carlo Ginzburg busca, na Retórica de Aristóteles, a validade do conceito de entimema, no claro intuito de transpor os limites do relativismo em âmbito historiográfico e de readequar a noção de prova histórica. Aproximamo-nos, assim, da noção de prova formulada por Ginzburg no ensaio "Uno testis", de O fio e os rastros (2009). Cabe anotar que essa noção já foi previamente estudada em outro ensaio anterior de sua autoria, intitulado "Sobre Aristóteles e a história, mais uma vez", texto contido em Relações de força: história, retórica, prova (2002). O que Ginzburg quer claramente mostrar com esses estudos sobre a retórica aristotélica é o nexo existente entre história, na sua concepção moderna, e retórica, no entendimento de Aristóteles: "A visão de Aristóteles sobre a retórica corresponde à mesma posição de Ginzburg contra a retórica do pós-modernismo cético: rechaçar a retórica entendida apenas como arte do convencimento, constituída de figuras de linguagens" (ZANIN, 2009, p. 42). Ginzburg ressalta que Aristóteles tomou o entimema como um procedimento retórico do discurso jurídico que não deve ser redutível às figuras de linguagem, tornando-se, assim, uma ferramenta mais eficaz de demonstração. Embora Platão já tivesse feito uso do silogismo, foi Aristóteles quem elaborou uma teoria e determinou suas regras. Os seus predecessores ignoravam que o entimema é um silogismo cujas premissas são às vezes necessárias, mas por vezes apresentam-se como frágeis analogias. O método da retórica refere-se, portanto, às provas por persuasão, que "é uma espécie de demonstração" (ARISTÓTELES, 2005, 1355a), frente ao silogismo com premissas necessárias, prováveis e frequentes. É preciso salientar que são os sinais (semeia) os elementos definidos por Aristóteles como conclusão des- A PROVA HISTÓRICA NA CONCEPÇÃO RETÓRICA DE ARISTÓTELES | 15 REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 | Set. Dez./2018 | p. 9-20. | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec sas premissas silogísticas, reiterando sua defesa por um silogismo realizado equilibradamente entre juízos necessários e prováveis para fazer do indício (tékmerion) um meio-termo de sentidos e pensamentos em negociação. Em suma, o sinal é analisado como a conclusão do entimema (silogismo), sendo proveniente de uma proposição necessária e irrefutável, de uma primeira figura denominada por indício (tekmerion), enquanto o termo semeion designa mais particularmente a conclusão refutável de um entimema provável (dedutível), conforme a segunda ou a terceira figura. Para um coerente manuseio de sinais com base em indícios, Aristóteles ressalta a necessidade de operar uma semântica da lexis das palavras, pois elas têm o potencial de revelar significados, "pôr diante dos olhos" (ARISTÓTELES, 2005, 1410b). Tal capacidade surge aliada à marca distintiva da retórica, a capacidade de significar e persuadir, que por sua vez está na origem de todos os prestígios que a imaginação pode enxertar na visibilidade das coisas e dos tempos por meio da linguagem: "Encontramos, assim, um efeito de discurso destacado por Aristóteles na sua teoria da léxis: a "elocução" ou a "dicção", segundo a Retórica, tem a virtude de colocar diante dos olhos e, desse modo, fazer ver" (RICOEUR, 2010, v. 3, p. 318-319). Trata-se, porém, de um ver translúcido e não transparente, já que, na própria Retórica, Aristóteles nos alerta que na vida cotidiana não nos apoiamos sobre verdades absolutas, mas normalmente regramos nossa conduta discursiva pela verdade metafísica, ou seja, por uma malha de verossimilhanças e probabilidades coerentemente exploradas. Desse modo, a Retórica não deixa de recorrer ao uso da verdade cientifica, mas de uma verdade científica mediada entre as provas e os fluxos imaginários da opinião e da convenção (doxa). Sem o reconhecimento dessa mediação proposta por Aristóteles, muitos estudiosos da retórica se restringiram à sua dimensão formal, concentrando-se na ordem e na disposição do discurso, sendo essa redução a causa de sua degeneração. Abrangendo os campos da argumentação, comparação e elocução, geralmente ela é reduzida a esse último aspecto, o que acabou por conceber a retórica como simples "taxonomia" de figuras de linguagem. Por outro lado, nosso objetivo é tentar demonstrar como se articulam conteúdo e forma na Retórica de Aristóteles (ROHDEN, 1997, p. 117). Para isso, defendemos que o estagirita não pode ser acusado de restringir a amplitude da retórica a uma teoria tropológica das figuras. Em outras palavras, o perigo que corre a reflexão aristotélica sobre a retórica de ser reduzida à tropologia, ou a qualquer mero formalismo ou relativismo, é superado a partir justamente do reconhecimento da relação ontológica que o filósofo estabelece entre o sentido e a doxa, envolvendo assim os pressupostos antropológico-epistemológicos do discurso. Em complemento à sua Retórica, os primeiros seis capítulos de sua obra Da interpretação contêm também uma apresentação concisa dessa ontologia, incluindo várias menções à proximidade entre linguagem e mentalidade para uma equilibrada representação discursiva do mundo. De acordo com Da interpretação, os termos linguísticos correspondem a pensamentos ou conceitos fornecidos com certa validade objetiva, os quais Aristóteles reconhece por "afecções da alma" e que representam a realidade possível captada pela percepção [imagem] da mente humana: "E, para comparar, nem a escrita é a mesma para todos, nem os sons pronunciados são os mesmos, embora sejam as afecções da alma das quais esses são os sinais primeiros idênticas para todos, e também são precisamente idênticos os objetos de que essas afecções são as imagens" (ARISTÓTELES, 2013, 16a 6-8). Nessa concepção de linguagem assimiladora de imagens, as palavras se referem a coisas externas na medida em que apreendem as coisas através de conceitos. Nesse sentido, o convencionalismo (doxa) para Aristóteles seria caracterizado pelas unidades semânticas estabelecidas pela percepção dos objetos e dos eventos, como uma "voz significativa por convenção" (ARISTÓTELES, 2013, 16a 19), o que implica uma mediação entre elementos naturais (físicos) e artificiais (metafísicos) na constituição do sinal linguístico: 16 | Daniel Vecchio Alves REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 | Set. Dez./2018 | p. 9-20. | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec La conclusión que puede extraerse es que [...] la posibilidad de producir un contenido mental del tipo de la memoria depende de que utilicemos una imagen como medio para referir la imagen a aquello de lo cual ella es precisamente una imagen memorativa, de que utilicemos un determinado contenido que tenemos en la mente como imagen o como representante (memorativo) de otra cosa. Se trata, entonces, de un representacionismo, en la medida en que la memoria depende del uso de las representaciones; pero es un representacionismo moderado porque en él no se confunde medio con objeto de la memoria, ni representante con representado (MIÉ, 2018, p. 42-43). Após ter escrito sua Poética, Aristóteles elege o signo para indicar a qualificação da linguagem que se converte em veículo semântico das vozes e eventos humanos. Ele trata da consequência da relação que as palavras têm com as afecções da alma, quando procura delinear tanto a objetividade à qual pertencem as vozes quanto a mútua dependência causal entre linguagem e pensamento. Para o Aristóteles da Retórica, portanto, o que é relevante não é somente que a voz seja um som natural, mas que exista também uma convenção que reconheça o som com determinado valor semântico. O estagirita afirma que todos os sistemas de notação e representação como o gráfico, o fonético e o mental não estão em primeiro plano, mas sim na função de veicular os significados que cobrem um som ou uma figura quando usado discursivamente como sinal ou sintoma de um pensamento. A partir daí, Aristóteles penetra na senda dos estudos metafísicos, aprimorando cada vez mais a sua ontologia da percepção e do conhecimento. 3. A METAFÍSICA INDUTIVA DE ARISTÓTELES A imagem de um Aristóteles que parte de uma fase metafísica para uma fase empírica é o ponto aqui mais contestado. Esse equívoco pode ser resolvido pela compreensão de algumas passagens de seus escritos. Os comentaristas que traçam um Aristóteles em constante evolução empírica são legitimados pela tendência antiplatônica de interpretação de suas reflexões. Porém, a ontologia aristotélica não é uma simples antítese do platonismo: "a ontologia de Aristóteles tem com a de Platão uma relação muito mais sutil de continuidade e oposição; é isso que seria preciso compreender para dar alcance verdadeiro à oposição demasiadamente simples entre uma filosofia da essência e uma filosofia da substância" (RICOEUR, 2014, p. XIV). Aliás, Aristóteles reformula a própria questão da ontologia; ele, "o pretenso filósofo do concreto, do movente, o observador dos animais e das constituições civis" (RICOEUR, 2014, p. 152). Por isso, a presente investigação também se volta, especificamente neste tópico, para a compreensão do projeto ontológico de Aristóteles na Metafísica, tomando em consideração os elementos semânticos constituintes da interpretação e do saber. Primeiramente, ao relacionar o conhecimento prévio e universal às individualidades sensoriais, Aristóteles está apontando para o que não seria uma indução, mas "una deduccion por induccion; esto es, en cierta medida, diferente, pues se trata de buscar la explicación adecuada para un hecho que se toma por dado, como es en este caso el de la longevidad de ciertos animales, y con este proposito se utiliza el esquema de la deduccion" (FARIETA, 2015, p. 21). Chegando aqui ao centro de sua obra Metafísica, no intuito de retomar o problema levantado por alguns estudiosos sobre a coerência da ontologia aristotélica. No entanto, se o caminho de sua ontologia começou a ser estudado desde Jaeger até Ricoeur, é preciso ter em conta que a Metafísica ainda permanece em estado de programa e ainda não se vê uma investigação efetiva de sua fundamentação. Em outras palavras, ainda não se vê em Aristóteles a sistematização de uma ontologia geral, centrada também nas imaterialidades do ser. Isso porque o estagirita propõe sua ontologia por uma espécie de gênese da ciência que necessariamente parte do sensível; procedimento, à primeira vista, antiplatônico, que consiste numa filosofia baseada na individualidade concreta que tem como modelo o organismo, o indivíduo vivo. Nesse caso, porém, a forma ou a ideia A PROVA HISTÓRICA NA CONCEPÇÃO RETÓRICA DE ARISTÓTELES | 17 REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 | Set. Dez./2018 | p. 9-20. | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec é imanente à matéria, ou seja, "numa filosofia da individualidade concreta, a quididade e a coisa perfazem o um [...]" (RICOEUR, 2014, p. 179). A intenção de Aristóteles ao integrar na Metafísica as conclusões de sua Física foi a de utilizar o conhecimento da substância sensível como um longo desvio para passar à substância inteligível. Logo, para preencher a moldura vazia da sua ontologia é preciso passar pelo mundo e não se ater a ele. Essa passagem pelo mundo, todavia, é sinal da estima do filósofo pelas sensações, principalmente a sensação captada por meio da visão: "De fato, não apenas para agir, mas também quando nada pretendemos fazer, preferimos o ver a todas as outras sensações. A causa disso é que, entre as sensações, esta é a que mais nos faz conhecer e mostra muitas diferenças" (ARISTÓTELES, 2002, A1, 980a 21-27). Sendo assim, Aristóteles dá início à sua estratégia de convencimento, desde as linhas iniciais da Metafísica, ao afirmar que todos os homens reconhecem o apreço que todos têm pelas sensações, es pecialmente pela visão. A menção desse sentido é a brecha para que Aristóteles opte, na sua ontologia, por uma descrição proveniente, sobretudo, da experiência física. Na Metafísica, no entanto, Aristóteles revisa profundamente a compreensão da natureza física dos particulares sensitivos, pois, em sua ontologia, substâncias particulares são compostas de dois constituintes fundamentais: matéria e forma (ARISTÓTELES, 2002). Diante do exposto até aqui, é possível afirmar que a tese metafísica de Aristóteles é favorável a uma relação epistêmica entre universais e indivíduos, privilegiando, coerentemente, as correlações entre matéria e forma. A relação entre esses dois elementos que dão base ao saber deve explicar o fato de que o conhecimento universal depende do particular, na medida em que o primeiro não pode ser dado se não houver uma experiência específica sobre a qual aplicar esse conhecimento universal. Portanto, "el conocimiento universal implica cierto conocimiento particular siempre y cuando se tenga ya de antemano algun tipo de conocimiento particular. De esta manera, el conocimiento universal vale como conocimiento hipotetico sobre los particulares, [...]." (FARIETA, 2015, p. 14). Desde a Poética, vimos que o universal é apontado como superior ao particular, porém, desde a Metafísica, Aristóteles nos esclarece que o universal só é traçado quando proveniente do particular, da causa, do fato ou da experiência cotidiana. É exatamente nesse último ponto que se situa grande parte da polêmica criada no entorno da leitura antiplatônica do pensamento aristotélico, visto que Platão tem por premissa uma ontologia que posiciona como causa primeira o universal. Desse modo, em Aristóteles, "cuando se tiene por primera vez una experiencia sensible, es posible no hacer anamnēsis platónica, sino epagōge, pues con base en esta experiencia sensible se van conformando los conocimientos universales, que luego, con la adquisicion de nuevas experiencias sensibles, se iran estableciendo más detenidamente" (FARIETA, 2015, p. 20). Ao recorrer à indução para remodelar a teoria platônica das ideias, Aristóteles apresenta algumas razões para rechaçar a dedução universal em favor de uma peculiar dedução por indução (epagōge): Con la epagōge Aristoteles quiere dar cuenta de ese proceso que conduce a la «causa» -o «explicacion (aitia)» y no simplemente presuponerlo como si se diera a priori, tal como parece presuponer la teoria platonica. De esta manera, si lo que se pretende explicar es la posibilidad del descubrimiento de nuevo conocimiento, no se puede apelar sin mas a un conocimiento preexistente de ninguna naturaleza; pues esto sería una petición de principio. Asi que, si el proceso de la anamnēsis supone cualquier forma de conocimiento preexistente, no hay forma de eliminar la petición de principio; por lo que resultaria preferible llamar a la operacion mental que se da en el descubrimiento de otra manera: epagōge. Esta seria, por lo tanto, el proceso fundamental para el descubrimiento de nuevos conocimientos y nuevas realidades 18 | Daniel Vecchio Alves REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 | Set. Dez./2018 | p. 9-20. | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec que tendrian fundamentalmente a un caracter explicativo (FARIETA, 2015, p. 26). A dialética metafísica de Aristóteles, fundada na indução, é, assim, a concretização de um método de trabalho, de prova e de verificação. A indução é um raciocínio que, supondo certas coisas, outras decorrem dela. Para o início desse ciclo indutivo da filosofia aristotélica, é fundamental, como mencionado, certo apelo à observação. O elemento indutivo, enquanto elemento da dialética aristotélica, visa às semelhanças e às analogias entre fatos e ideias, o que acaba por revelar outros aspectos da sua concepção de racionalidade e realidade, denotando uma busca que vai das coisas experimentadas à semântica dos signos e das palavras usadas para representar a experiência: "Os empíricos conhecem o puro dado de ato, mas não seu porquê; ao contrário, os sábios conhecem o porquê e a causa. [...] conhecem as causas coisas que são feitas." (ARISTÓTELES, 2002, A1, 980a 1-3). Seguindo esse fundamento de Aristóteles, é preciso uma base indutiva para que as causas metafísicas dos eventos e das coisas sejam exploradas coerentemente. Por isso, Aristóteles se esforça, em várias passagens de sua Metafísica, para encaixar no arcabouço da silogística vários conceitos básicos de sua teoria da demonstração fundamentada por uma metafísica especialmente indutiva. Logo, para se compreender a relação entre silogismo e demonstração em Aristóteles e, mais precisamente, para entender por que Aristóteles escolheu o silogismo como instrumento de demonstração, não basta se ater somente às propriedades abstratas do silogismo, pois, "para Aristóteles, é à experiência e à observação que cabe a tarefa de encontrar novas sentenças verdadeiras, e não à demonstração" (ANGIONI, 2014, p. 74). Diante de todo esse percurso filosófico, concluímos que a questão central de Aristóteles incide sobre determinada propriedade semântica das coisas e dos termos, na capacidade destes de identificar e representar devidamente as coisas captadas e reportadas por nossos sentidos. Em síntese, Aristóteles intervém de maneira especial não tanto na ideia, em termos platônicos, mas na sua vinculação à experiência sensível. Platão critica igualmente a separação desses elementos na primeira parte do Parmênides. Mas as relações entre matéria e forma empreendidas por ambos os filósofos são efetivamente distintas, pois apesar de ter atribuído um caráter imanente às ideias, Aristóteles afirma, contudo, a sua base empírica e indutiva. Por outro lado, tentamos evidenciar no presente artigo como ocorrem as inovações dialógicas entre matéria e forma introduzidas por Aristóteles no campo semântico-ontológico da filosofia, o que demonstra que o estagirita tentou resolver positivamente o problema da transcendência, apesar de não ter aprofundado a sua concepção sobre o abstrato. Todavia, seu principal fim nos parece ter sido atingido, que foi pensar um discurso coerente (unitário) para o registro de distintas percepções da realidade: uma realidade eterna (criadora) e outra temporal (criatural). De Aristóteles, portanto, herdamos uma preocupação mais sistemática com os empregos retóricos e filosóficos do silogismo e da metáfora, o que nos dirige a uma relação entre história e poética mais profícua e menos redutível, tomada de modo não sectário. NOTAS 1 As obras de Aristóteles são referenciadas de acordo com os padrões estabelecidos de referência das obras antigas, de modo a apresentar, depois da data de publicação, o número do livro, do parágrafo ou do capítulo, seguido da respectiva linha ou verso do texto para quando houver essa medida. 2 "A história tenderá a ser inspirada pelo epidídico e veremos Políbio batalhar contra e Luciano sustentar que uma "muralha" separa a história do elogio, enquanto outros proporão um quarto gênero para a história" (Hartog, 2013, p. 21). 3 O exemplo, por sua vez, é "semelhante à indução e a indução é um princípio de raciocínio" (Aristóteles, 2005, 1393a 23-27). Há duas espécies de exemplos: a primeira consiste em referir fatos anteriores (históricos), a segunda consiste em invenções feitas pelo orador, onde se distingue "a parábola e as fábulas esópicas ou líbias" (Aristóteles, 2005, 1393a 28-30). O signo comporta uma relação de implicação e o exemplo (paradeigma) se apoia sobre uma relação de semelhança. Enquanto que a indução demonstra a partir de todos os casos individuais, o exemplo não utiliza todos os casos individuais para sua demonstração. O exemplo implica só uma espécie de "correlato indutivo do entimema enquanto propõe generalizações que, ou são persuasivas A PROVA HISTÓRICA NA CONCEPÇÃO RETÓRICA DE ARISTÓTELES | 19 REVISTA DE ESTUDOS DE CULTURA | São Cristóvão (SE) | v. 4 | n. 12 | Set. Dez./2018 | p. 9-20. | https://seer.ufs.br/index.php/revec por si mesmas ou são como premissas plausíveis de um silogismo" (Aristóteles, 2005, 1393b 3-5). 4 "Sabe-se já que metafísica não é um termo aristotélico (foi talvez inventado pelos peripatéticos) ou nasceu por altura da edição das obras de Aristóteles levada a cabo por Andrónico de Rodes no século I a.C. A expressão utilizada com maior frequência por Aristóteles foi a de "filosofia primeira" ou também "teologia" em contraposição com a "filosofia segunda" ou "física"; mas não há dúvida de que o termo "metafísica" aristotélica é a ciência que se ocupa das realidades que se encontram acima das "físicas". Por esta razão, chamou-se definitiva e constantemente metafísica, seguindo o exemplo do que acontecera com Aristóteles, em que toda a tentativa filosofica do pensamento humano é dirigida a transcender o mundo empírico para alcançar a realidade metaempírica" (Reale, 1997, p. 37). REFERÊNCIAS ANGIONI, L. Demonstração, silogismo e causalidade. In:____. Lógica e Ciência em Aristóteles. Campinas: Editor PHI, 2014, pp. 61-120. ARISTÓTELES. Da Interpretação. Trad. José V. da Mata. São Paulo: Ed.Unesp, 2013. ARISTÓTELES. Metafísica. Trad. Geovanni Reale. São Paulo: Edições Loyola, 2002. ARISTÓTELES. Arte Retórica. 17a edição. Trad. Antônio Pinto de Carvalho. Rio de Janeiro: Ediouro, 2005. ARISTÓTELES. Arte Poética. Trad. Ana Maria Valente. Lisboa: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, 2004. FARIETA, Alejandro. La objeción de Aristóteles a la teoría platónica de la reminiscencia. Pensamiento y Cultura, v. 18, n. 2, 2015, pp. 6-28. GINZBURG, Carlo. Relações de Força: história, retórica, prova. Trad. Jônatas Batista Neto. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2002. HARTOG, François. Aristóteles e a história, mais uma vez. História da Historiografia, Ouro Preto, n. 13, 2013, p. 14-23. MIÉ, Fabián. Significado y Mente en Aristóteles. Journal of Ancient Philosophy. São Paulo, v.12, n.1. 2018, pp. 28-95. REALE, G. Para uma nova interpretação de Platão: releituras da metafísica dos grandes diálogos à luz das Doutrinas não-escritas. Trad. Marcelo Perine. São Paulo: Edições Loyola, 1997. RICOEUR, Paul. Tempo e narrativa. Trad. Márcia Valéria Martinez de Aguiar. São Paulo: Martins Fontes, 2010, 3 vols. RICOEUR, Paul. Ser, essência e substância em Platão e Aristóteles. Tradução de Rosemary Costhek Abílio. São Paulo: Martins Fontes, 2014. ROHDEN, Luiz. O poder da linguagem: a arte retórica de Aristóteles. Porto Alegre: EDIPUCRS, 1997. WHITE, Hayden. Meta-história: A imaginação história do século XIX. Trad. José L. de Melo. São Paulo: EDUSP, 1995. ZANIN, Caio. O guardião da história – a noção de prova na historiografia de Carlo Ginzburg, de 1991 a 2006. Porto Alegre: Monografia apresentada na UFRGS. Porto Alegre, 2009. O AUTOR Daniel Vecchio Alves tem Doutorado em História Social (2017) e é professor titular no ensino superior, desde 2015.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
/12/2019 Encyc Eugenics Archives eugenicsarchive.ca/discover/encyclopedia/535eee527095aa000000025c 1/5 Sorts of people Robert A. Wilson Eugenic ideas, laws, and policies were often cast explicitly in terms of a person's having certain kinds of socially undesirable properties, such as feeble-mindedness, mental deficiency, or psychosis. For example, in the second amendment to the Sexual Sterilization Act of Alberta (1942), persons with neurosyphillis, epilepsy, and Huntington's disease came to be included amongst those subject to eugenic sterilization in the province. However, in practice eugenics has operated in both popular culture and in science in terms of the corresponding sorts or kinds of people: the feebleminded, the mentally deficient, and psychotics. One may wonder about the significance of this perhaps innocent-looking shift from talk of people with certain properties to sorts of people, especially in reflecting on the resurgence of eugenic thinking in contemporary contexts. What role does distinguishing between various sorts of people, and attaching a differential value to those sorts of people, play in both the history of eugenics and its contemporary aftermath? Human Variation and Sorts of People Thinking of there being distinctive sorts of people is one response to the perception of human variation. This response, however, was not new with eugenics in the nineteenth-century. In fact, thinking about members of our species in terms of various sorts or kinds can be found in ancient civilizations and is often bound up with the very idea of 31/12/2019 Encyc Eugenics Archives eugenicsarchive.ca/discover/encyclopedia/535eee527095aa000000025c 2/5 what it is to be human. Many societies, including those of ancient China and ancient Greece, refer to themselves with terms that are associated with full humanity, whereas they refer to people from alien cultures and distant lands with terms that lack that association. For example, "barbarians" for the ancient Greeks were people who did not speak fully human language, merely "ba-ba"ing instead. Thus, the idea of there being different sorts of people across time and space, not all of whom are valued equally, is many thousands of years old (Lloyd, 2012). We can approach the eugenic development of this appeal to sorts or kinds of people by reflecting a little further on the nature of human variation. Human beings vary in an unlimited number of ways. People have different heights and weights, different hair and eye colour, and different physical and mental abilities. Some variation, such as that with respect to height and weight, is continuous: the varying characteristic or property exists on a continuum. Other variation, such as that with respect to hair and eye colour, is discrete, or at least is usually thought of as such: there are a relatively small number of categories used to classify the variation here, such as blonde, brown, black , or red (for hair colour), or blue, brown, or green (for eye colour). Both continuous and discrete variation can be the basis for distinguishing between sorts of people, such as when we distinguish tall from short people, or, moving to categories that wear their evaluative dimension more clearly on their sleeve, when we distinguish fat from skinny people. Some of this variation matters more to us than does other variation. For example, variation with respect to skin colour, language spoken, and cultural practices and affiliations have been highly salient in human history. They have been the basis not simply for distinguishing between sorts of people on the basis of race and culture, but for the 31/12/2019 Encyc Eugenics Archives eugenicsarchive.ca/discover/encyclopedia/535eee527095aa000000025c 3/5 differential and often discriminatory treatment of the resulting different sorts of people. Eugenic Policies and Laws and Sorts of People Race and ethnicity themselves have played a direct role in the history of eugenics, with some "races" deemed to be inferior in various ways to others. Thus such lesser sorts of people were subject to restrictive immigration and eliminative sterilization policies that formed part of the late nineteenthand early-twentieth-century eugenics movement. Eugenic sterilization laws themselves were most often expressed, however, in terms of categories centered on the mental abilities that people possessed, including those of feeblemindedness and mental deficiency. Eugenic policies and laws here straddled everyday, "folk" categories and categories for classifying sorts of people that were the result of scientific practice. For example, "idiots", "imbeciles" and "morons" were sorts of people who were characterized in terms of their level of putative mental deficiency, where that level corresponded to the IQ score those people gained on one or more standardized psychological tests. The kind of thinking that drove eugenic family studies, such as those of "The Jukes" and "The Nams", also utilized folk categories of people, such as paupers, criminals, and the sexually promiscuous, to pick out sorts of people whose continuing family lineage was viewed as contributing significantly to ongoing social problems resolvable by eugenic intervention (Rafter, 1988). Like Begets Like, Heredity, and Eugenics Today An important thread to eugenic thinking about sorts of people is the idea that "like begets like": that the children of people of a certain sort will also be of that sort. While this was understood in hereditarian terms as eugenics appealed to the emerging biological sciences (e.g., of genetics) from the early part of the twentieth-century, the role of 31/12/2019 Encyc Eugenics Archives eugenicsarchive.ca/discover/encyclopedia/535eee527095aa000000025c 4/5 hereditarian thinking in eugenics is complicated. Nineteenth-century eugenics operated without significant biological knowledge of heredity. Furthermore, those who acknowledge a significant role for environmental circumstances in contributing to the production of a given trait or characteristic can still present the eugenic shaping of future populations as something desirable. Indeed, that is precisely what one finds in the contemporary bioethics literature advocating "liberal eugenics" (Agar, 2004; Kitcher, 2003) and various principles governing parenting that are viewed as seeking to minimize disability (Savulescu, 2001; Savulescu & Kahane, 2008). Are there Sorts of People? The broader metaphysical issue of whether any sorts of people "are real" might usefully be located as part of the general issue of the reality of kinds. Proponents of realism about kinds hold that the world is naturally divided into distinct kinds of things, and our task is (to use a metaphor inspired by Plato) to "carve nature at its joints". For example, oxygen and nitrogen are real kinds of chemical elements, each with distinctive clusters of properties and behaviours, and the task of chemistry, in part, is to accurately characterize those properties and behaviours. Proponents of nominalism, by contrast, hold that reality is differentiated only with the gentle (or not so gentle) touch of the human mind; social constructivism is a variant of this view that emphasizes the role of human institutions and practices in this process. One might reasonably hold that realist views of sorts of people have been discredited by the history of eugenics. After all, the sorts of people articulated within the eugenics movement are no longer taken to be part of the fabric of the world, and a basis for social policy and legislation. Yet appeals to sorts of people-to the severely cognitively disabled, to schizophrenics, to children with Down Syndrome-where 31/12/2019 Encyc Eugenics Archives eugenicsarchive.ca/discover/encyclopedia/535eee527095aa000000025c 5/5 the people referred to are many of the same sorts of individuals who were the target of eugenic practices and policies, continue to animate contemporary discussions of persons, parents with disabilities, and reproductive rights in ways that are often continuous with the eugenic past. Cite this document (APA): Wilson, R. (2014, April 29). Sorts of people. Retrieved December 31, 2019, from http://eugenicsarchive.ca/discover/encyclopedia/535eee527095aa000000025c References Agar, N. (2004). Liberal Eugenics: In Defence of Human Enhancement. New York: Blackwell. Kitcher, P. (2003). Utopian Eugenics and Social Inequality. In In Mendel's Mirror: Philosophical Reflections on Biology (pp. 258-282). New York: Oxford University Press. Lloyd, G.E.R. (2012). Being, Humanity, and Understanding. New York: Oxford University Press. Rafter, N. (Ed.). (1988). White Trash: The Eugenic Family Studies, 1877-1919. Boston, MA: Northeastern University Press. Savulescu, J. (2001). Procreative Beneficence: Why We Should Select the Best Children. Bioethics, 15 (5/6), pp.413-426. Savulescu, J., & Kahane, G. (2008). The Moral Obligation to Create Children with the Best Chance of the Best Life. Bioethics, 23 (5), pp.274-290.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Testimony, Pragmatics, and Plausible Deniability. 1. INTRODUCTION. In order to assign content to a wide range of context sensitive utterances audiences must rely heavily on their knowledge of the conversational context. Because of this reliance on context there are many ways the recovery of content can go wrong. As a result, speakers are able to make assertions and yet deny responsibility for the proposition asserted, claiming that the audience made a mistake in resolving the context sensitivity. That is, speakers are able to maintain plausible deniability about what is said. Call this the 'deniability problem'. The aim of this paper is to explain why the deniability problem is problematic, and start to identify the range of utterances to which it applies. Elizabeth Fricker (2012) has pushed a similar line of reasoning, arguing that implicatures fail to carry the epistemic force of outright assertions. She argues that speakers maintain plausible deniability about the implicature, meaning that they fail to undertake the commitments necessary to transmit testimonial knowledge. I start by outlining Fricker's view, and arguing that it potentially applies to a far wider range of utterances than those she considers, including many assertions. I then go into greater detail explaining exactly why this is worrying. The deniability problem is problematic for three reasons. Firstly, many views of testimony (for example, 'telling' based views of testimony such as Fricker (2006a), Hinchman (2005), Moran (2005a, 2005b), and Ross (1986)) emphasise the role of speaker commitments in the justification of testimonial beliefs. The deniability problem entails that speakers often fail to undertake the types of 2 commitments emphasised by such views. On telling based views of testimony, when an audience is told p they gain a reason to believe p in virtue of the speaker having publicly taken responsibility for the audience's belief that p. However, when the speaker maintains plausible deniability about what is said no such commitment is undertaken. Secondly, plausible deniability prevents epistemic buck passing. Sanford Goldberg (2006), and Benjamin McMyler (2013) have argued that the ability to pass the epistemic buck in response to challenges to one's belief is a distinctive epistemic right agents gain only in virtue of forming testimonial beliefs. This diminishes the belief holder's responsibility for their testimonial belief as compared to beliefs formed via other methods. However, when the speaker maintains plausible deniability the audience loses the ability to pass the epistemic buck, and thus fails to gain the epistemic rights distinctive of testimonial knowledge. Finally, the ability to maintain plausible deniability blocks one of the primary disincentives to deceptive or careless assertion. After explaining why the deniability problem is problematic I focus on identifying the range of utterances to which it applies. I outline a puzzle arising from the recent debate over context sensitivity in the philosophy of language, which seems to suggest that the deniability problem extends to a very large number of utterances. The puzzle is as follows on the one hand it has been argued that there is widespread context sensitivity in natural language, and audiences must rely heavily on their knowledge of the context to recover the speaker's intended meaning. This includes cases which we would intuitively treat as being on a par with normal testimony. On the other hand, Herman Cappelen and Ernie Lepore (2004) have argued that such widespread context sensitivity would make communication miraculous, pointing to the same 'problematic epistemics' which, according to Fricker (2012), give rise to plausible deniability. If context sensitivity is very widespread, but has the same 'problematic epistemics' that Fricker identifies for implicature, then the deniability problem is extremely far reaching. This would be a worrying and radical result. 3 Thankfully this result can be avoided, or at least weakened. There have been several contextualist responses to Cappelen and Lepore which aim to establish that widespread context sensitivity does not make communication miraculous. These responses don't work as general solutions to the deniability problem, however they do allow us to limit its scope. We end up with a set of criteria for identifying discourses which are particularly susceptible to the deniability problem. In the conclusion I suggest some important discourses which may still face the deniability problem. 2. THE DENIABILITY PROBLEM. Because of what Fricker calls the 'ambiguous epistemics' of implicature speakers are able to maintain plausible deniability about what they have implied. That is, they maintain the ability to deny that they ever intended to imply what the audience takes them to have implied. I take it that such a denial will involve the construction of a believable narrative in which the speaker's attitudes and expectations at the time of utterance were such that they could reasonably make their utterance without intending to imply what they were taken to have implied. More precisely: Plausible deniability An agent has plausible deniability about intending to communicate a proposition p with an utterance u of a sentence s if that agent is able to tell a story (with at least some degree of believability1) about their attitudes and expectations at the time of utterance such that a reasonable agent with those attitudes and expectations could utter s with no intention to communicate p. The plausibility of the denial will depend on the plausibility of the story about the agent's attitudes. In order to be plausible the story will have to be consistent with what the audience knows about the 1 Plausible deniability is clearly a gradable notion since some denials will be more plausible than others. In section five we will consider some factors which might make some denials more plausible than others. 4 speaker's attitudes and beliefs. That we have such plausible deniability about implicatures is illustrated by the following example: Implicature: Matt is running out of fuel and needs some fast. He stops and asks a stranger where he can get some fuel. The stranger says 'there is a gas station around the corner'. The stranger thereby implies (implicitly communicates) that the gas station is open and has fuel. However, if Matt were to get to the gas station and find it closed or out of gas he would have a hard time criticising the stranger for her utterance. She could easily maintain that she never intended to communicate that the gas station was open or that it had gas. She can maintain that she was merely suggesting it as a place to try (she could maintain this even if she in fact knew that the gas station was shut or had no gas). When Fricker talks of 'ambiguous epistemics' she refers to the way audiences and speakers must rely on what she calls 'knowledge context' (or 'K-context') in order to recover the communicated message. Knowledge context is the audience's representation of factors such as mutual knowledge, past utterances, Gricean norms, the mutual goals of the conversation, and any other information generally relevant to interpretation other than basic knowledge of the syntax and invariant semantic content of the utterance. Because of the many complex ways in which audiences must rely on context in order to recover an implicature there are many ways the process can go wrong. For example, the audience could employ an aspect of knowledge context which the speaker never intended them to employ, or they could fail to employ an aspect of knowledge context that the speaker did intend them to employ. Likewise, they could hold false beliefs about the context, or at least beliefs which were not mutual knowledge, and appeal to such beliefs in their recovery of the implicature. Because the recovery of implicatures can go wrong in so many ways the speaker is able to deny responsibility for the proposition the audience recovers, claiming that there was a 5 mismatch between what the audience recovered and what the speaker intended (perhaps even claiming the speaker didn't intend any implicature at all)2. Fricker's own take on the problem is as follows: Entirely genuine misunderstandings and mistakings are endemically liable to happen, regarding a supposed message that is conversationally implied, not stated, due to the very complex mutual epistemics of the situation. Given these complex epistemics, it is not epistemically feasible to pin undeniable specific commitment onto a speaker: she can always wriggle out of it. This may be in bad faith; but very often it may not-maybe she miscalculated what her audience would infer; maybe she had not really figured it out. (Fricker 2012: 87) Since the claim that she intended to communicate E turns on claims about her private intentions and K-context, including her second order representations of others' beliefs, she can always get away with denying that she intended any such thing; even if her denial is made in bad faith. Lies about my own intentions and other mental states may be suspected, but cannot be refuted. In contrast, when someone makes an explicit statement of a fact P, what she signs up to in doing so-taking responsibility for the truth of P-is a public fact about the situation, determined by semantics and objective features of context. So it cannot 2It has been pointed out by an anonymous reviewer that this problem actually cuts both ways. In some cases contextual indeterminacy seems to grant audiences the freedom to recover the meaning they find most convenient. The reviewer provides the following example : One's partner may say that they are going to have coffee at the local café, and one might interpret them as meaning that they are going to the café now, using it as an excuse to drink the last of the coffee. One might do this even if one knows that they might be planning to go later (in which case they may still want some of the remaining coffee). I think this raises some interesting questions about the way in which speech acts make various courses of action permissible. However, there is not enough space to give this issue a proper treatment here. 6 be incorrigibly denied by the speaker. I can be nailed as having stated that P; never as having insinuated that P. (ibid: 88-89) Fricker seems to suggest that the deniability problem only applies to implicatures, suggesting that plausible deniability is never available regarding the primary content of one's utterance. The thought is that one can deny that one intended to imply anything without descending into absurdity. However, if one makes an intelligible declarative utterance one cannot, without descending into absurdity, claim that one never intended to communicate anything. This may be true, but one can still maintain plausible deniability about intending the particular proposition the audience recovered without claiming that one never intended to communicate anything at all. To see that speakers do attempt such conversational manoeuvres with asserted contents as well as implicatures consider the following two examples (the first of which occupies a grey area between what is implied and what is asserted, the second of which clearly concerns asserted content)3: Scalar implicature: We are planning a group trip to a theme park and deciding how many cars to take. I wish to cause logistical problems because I hate fun, so I say 'Matt has three kids' knowing that he has five. On the day of the trip Matt arrives with his five children and we don't have enough space in the car. You challenge me for saying that Matt had only three children. However, I might attempt to maintain that I didn't mean he had only three children, I meant that he had at least three children, so we would need at least three additional seats. 3 As we move through the examples from the clear case of implicature to the case of mere context sensitivity the stories the speaker tells start to sound slightly less plausible. They would certainly raise our suspicions, and if a speaker frequently made manoeuvres like these then we would consider them untrustworthy. This is a point to which I will return when discussing responses to the problem. For now it suffices to note that on one-off occasions we would usually let such matters slide and speakers would usually get away with making such conversational manoeuvres. This is not to say that they wouldn't be criticised for being unclear, simply that they would not be held to what they communicated. 7 The plausibility of such a story will depend on the way I said 'Matt has three kids' and the immediate preceding utterances, however we rarely recall such minute details of the conversational context, so it would not be difficult to construct a plausible story on which I intended to communicate only that Matt has at least three children. Quantifier domain restriction: It is the start of a new year and we have organised a party for the new graduate students. We have a variety of beers on offer, but there are some special craft lagers I want for myself (even though they were brought for the guests). I have stored most of the beer in the fridge, but I have put the craft lagers outside. Sally, one of the new students, arrives and asks where the beer is, so I tell her 'every beer is in the fridge'. Later on you find the craft lagers outside and ask me why I told Sally that every beer was in the fridge. In response to this challenge I might attempt to construct a story along the following lines: I had heard that Sally was a vegan, and I am aware that craft lagers often contain animal products. So when I said 'every beer is in the fridge' I didn't mean every beer we had purchased for the party, I meant every beer which was safe for Sally, as a vegan, to drink. In these examples the speaker attempted to construct a narrative concerning their attitudes and representations of the context in which the audience's recovered meaning was not intended. In general, if recovery of an asserted content requires extensive appeal to knowledge context then the speaker will often be able to claim that the audience recovered the wrong proposition, thus disclaiming responsibility for the audience's belief. Therefore, if heavy duty appeal to knowledge context is often required for recovering what is said, and this appeal to knowledge context gives rise to the same possibilities of error to which implicature gives rise, then the deniability problem will apply to a wide range of assertions, not just implicatures. 8 Before moving on it is worth clarifying what is meant when I talk about 'recovering the content of an utterance' or 'recovering what is said'. This is important both for the sake of appreciating the deniability problem and also in order to eliminate an objection which threatens the project of this paper from the outset4. In the examples I have given the hearers come to believe some fine grained proposition, and the speaker is able to maintain plausible deniability by claiming that a different fine grained proposition was intended. It might be thought that in reality we only come to believe far more coarse grained propositions, for example the disjunction of all the propositions the speaker could plausibly claim to have meant. After all, it might be thought that we often fail to consciously assign particular fine grained values to contextual variables. Moreover, the deniability problem breaks down on the view that we recover the disjunction of the propositions that the speaker could plausibly have meant. The speaker cannot plausibly deny having meant to communicate something at least as strong as the proposition recovered if the proposition recovered is the disjunction of propositions the speaker could plausibly claim to have meant. I think this line of reasoning is problematic because it relies on an unrealistic view of testimonial belief formation. We frequently do form testimonial beliefs in fine grained non-disjunctive propositions when there are other propositions the speaker could have claimed to have meant. For example, consider the above case of scalar implicature: on the disjunctive view the recovered proposition communicated would be 'Matt has either exactly three kids or at least three kids'. The problem is that this just collapses into 'Matt has at least three kids', yet it is plausible that we often take utterances like 'Matt has three kids' to communicate that Matt has exactly three children. On the disjunctive view such readings would be rare. Moreover, the range of situations an imaginative speaker would be able conjure up in order to claim that a miscommunication has occurred will often be rather wide, and an unimaginative hearer (or just a hearer who is interpreting quickly and unreflectively) is unlikely to consider (consciously or subconsciously) the whole range of cases a 4 Thanks to an anonymous reviewer for drawing my attention to this objection. 9 speaker could construct. Thus hearers will be able to infer little from what they have been told due to the level of uncertainty over exactly what it is that they have been told. Consider the quantifier case again. I mentioned one story the speaker could conjure up in order to maintain plausible deniability, however there are many more. For example, the speaker might attempt to claim that 'beer' and 'lager' are distinct, and that the question Sally asked was asked about beer (some people do consider this to be an important distinction), or the speaker could maintain that the intended interpretation was 'every beer which is ready to drink', claiming that the beer left outside was still warm at the time of utterance. On the disjunctive view the proposition the hearer recovers would be 'every beer for the party is in the fridge, or every vegan friendly beer is in the fridge, or.....'. It is not clear why Sally would consider all these readings (especially if she is not actually a vegan), and even if she did she would not be entitled to assume that there is no other unconsidered situation the speaker could conjure up in order to claim miscommunication. Thus really all she would be entitled to take from the utterance would be that there is some beer in the fridge. However, we frequently take much more from such utterances. This is evidenced by the fact that Sally may well be surprised to find the craft lagers outside, or she may assume they were someone's private stash. She would not be so disposed unless she had come to believe something like 'every beer for the party is in the fridge' (she may not have explicitly considered such a restriction, but this does not rule out forming a dispositional or unconscious belief with such a domain restriction). So I consider the disjunctive view to be implausible. A alternative (perhaps more plausible) way of spelling out the disjunctive view holds that audiences do not take speakers to mean 'p or q or...', but rather that audiences come to believe 'the speaker means p, or the speaker means q, or....'5. This view faces many of the same problems however, as the audience is still only able to draw a disjunctive conclusion about the subject matter of the assertion. For example, suppose I assert 'Matt has three kids', and the audience forms the belief 5 Thanks to an anonymous referee for pointing out this altervative version of the disjunctive view. 10 'Either S meant 'Matt as exactly three kids' or S meant 'Matt has at least three kids'. The audience will only be able to draw a disjunctive conclusion about the number of children Matt has. That is, they will at best be warranted in forming the belief 'Matt has either exactly three kids or at least three kids'. This clashes with the fact that we would often form the belief that Matt has exactly three children upon hearing 'Matt has three kids'. Other problems remain too. For example, it still seems likely that the range of interpretations an imaginative speaker would be able to conjure far outstrip the number of interpretations the audience is likely to consider when forming their disjunctive view about what the speaker might have meant. Thus, although this modification of the view does perhaps seem more realistic, it still faces many of the same problems. This is not to say that I believe we always recover only a single fine grained proposition. There may often be some degree of indeterminacy or uncertainty about the precise proposition (or propositions) communicated. However, my contention is that in cases where the mechanisms employed in the recovery of what is said give rise to many error possibilities the range of propositions an imaginative speaker can claim to have intended will often be significantly larger than the range of propositions over which a typical hearer's state of understanding will be indeterminate. Thus speakers will often be able to maintain plausible deniability about having intended any of the precisifications of the audience's interpretation6. By reviewing some of the literature on linguistic context sensitivity we will be able to assess the extent to which the mechanisms employed in the recovery of what is said give rise to the sorts of error possibilities which allow for the deniability problem. However, before 6 A related concern is that audiences needn't settle on a single precise interpretation, they may settle on several. The problem with this response is that it is unclear whether we can differentiate between settling on several different interpretations and settling on a single interpretation identical to the conjunction of those interpretations. Moreover, even if we did form testimonial beliefs in this way it would not prevent the speaker from maintaining plausible deniabiliy over individual interpretations. In fact, although the strategy of settling on multiple interpretations would no doubt increase the chance of the audience settling on the correct interpretation it would also vastly increase the risk that at least one of the several interpretations settled upon would be incorrect. 11 doing so it is important that we clarify exactly why the deniability problem is such a problem. 3. WHY IS THE DENIABILITY PROBLEM A PROBLEM? In the previous section I outlined the deniability problem, and argued that there is no principled reason to hold that it applies only to implicature. The problem, as it applies to assertions, can be stated as follows: usually when one makes an assertion with a clear propositional content p one undertakes a commitment to p. That is, one undertakes a commitment to defend one's belief in, and assertion of p, or else retract the assertion. This commitment is made public in the act of assertion (see MacFarlane (2005, 2011), and Rescorla (2009) for views of assertion which place special emphasis on this fact). However, in certain cases one has another option available when challenged one is able to deny that the audience recovered the intended proposition. Call this alternative conversational move the 'mismatch move'. When the mismatch move is available no public commitment is undertaken to defend one's assertion or provide epistemic justification for the proposition seemingly asserted. In this section I will explain why we should be worried by the deniability problem. We should be worried about the deniability problem because the commitments speakers undertake plausibly play an important role in justifying our testimonial beliefs, and in shaping the epistemic rights we acquire when we form testimonial beliefs. The presence of the deniability problem indicates that speakers are able to back out of certain commitments, meaning that the commitments are unable to perform their justificatory or rights shaping roles. I start by discussing the justificatory role played by speaker commitments. I focus primarily on Fricker's own view (in order to further explicate her take on the problem) and the assurance 12 theorists, who press the role of commitments intentionally incurred. The commitments so emphasised seem especially susceptible to plausible deniability, thus the deniability problem seems to be particularly worrying for the assurance theorist7. I will then briefly consider the extent to which the deniability problem might be seen to extend beyond views such as Fricker's or the assurance theorist's. Next I outline the role speaker commitments have been taken to play in shaping the epistemic rights we acquire as a result of forming testimonial beliefs. Sanford Goldberg (2006), and Benjamin McMyler (2013) have argued that the commitments speakers undertake when testifying shape the epistemic rights of the audience with respect to their testimonial belief. The presence of the deniability problem causes problems for the acquisition of these epistemic rights. Finally I argue that the presence of the deniability problem blocks one of the primary disincentives to deception. 3.1 Fricker and the Assurance Theorists. Fricker frames her discussion in terms of what she takes to be the paradigmatic mode of transmission of knowledge via testimony the act of telling. She argues that by telling an audience that p speakers vouch for, and take responsibility for, the truth of p. In telling someone that p the speaker presents p as being true in an act the import of which is that the hearer can form a belief in p on her say so (Fricker (2006a)). This act licences the audience to believe that p in virtue of the fact that it is the 'conventionally constituted force of her speech act' that in asserting p the speaker purports to speak from knowledge (Fricker 2006a, p594). This is a commitment in the public sphere, but it is also manifested publicly to the audience. The knowledge norm for tellings follows, Fricker thinks, from the fact that in telling someone p you offer them your word that p, and commit to it. To explain this Fricker draws an analogy with promising it seemingly follows from the fact that in promising to perform act a you commit to doing a, that you should promise to a only if you 7 Thanks to an anonymous reviewer for encouraging me to focus on this aspect of the assurance theorist's view. 13 intend to a, and aing is within your power. Similarly you should not commit to p unless you know that p. It is the fact that knowledge is the norm of telling which imbues it with its epistemic force. Audiences are justified in believing a speaker when they are justified in taking the speaker to be trustworthy with respect to the particular telling. The speaker's trustworthiness with respect to p consists in her having the following dispositional property: not easily would she assert that p, or vouch for the truth of p, unless she knew that p (Fricker (2006a) p600). When you are properly justified in taking a speaker to be trustworthy, and you know they have acted in such a way that they are committed to knowing that p, then you are both justified in taking p to be true, and justified in believing that the speaker's support for p is sufficient to yield knowledge. Once the audience knows the speaker has asserted p, and is in a position to know that the speaker is trustworthy8, then the audience is thereby in a position to know that p. This is how knowledge is spread via assertion according to Fricker. So, according Fricker, speakers don't properly vouch for a proposition if they maintain plausible deniability with respect to their intention to communicate that proposition, and 'tellings' only occur when speakers do undertake such a commitment. Thus, any assertion which leaves open the mismatch move is not a telling in Fricker's sense. However, tellings (and the commitments they generate) are central to Fricker's view of testimonial knowledge. It is in virtue of the commitments tellings generate that the knowledge norm applies to them, and it is in virtue of the fact that the knowledge norm applies to them that they constitute evidence for the proposition asserted. Thus, in Fricker's framework, audiences will not be able to achieve testimonial knowledge from any assertion where the mismatch move is available (unless an alternative story about testimonial knowledge is given to supplement Fricker's 'telling' based view). If the deniability problem applies to a wide 8 In earlier work Fricker (1994, 1995, 2006b) has maintained that in order to form a justified testimonial belief audiences must monitor speakers for trustworthiness. Presumably it is such monitoring which will grant the audience knowledge level justification of the speaker's trustworthiness. 14 range of assertions, or if particular discourses are especially susceptible to the deniability problem, then this should sanction either a widespread scepticism, or a targeted scepticism regarding the particular discourses in question. Fricker's view is similar in many ways to the assurance view of testimony advocated by Richard Moran (2005a), 2005b), Edward Hinchman (2005), and Angus Ross (1986). Like Fricker assurance theorists take tellings to be the paradigmatic speech act by which knowledge is transmitted, and like Fricker they take tellings to generate a special sort of commitment on behalf of the speaker. Unlike Fricker assurance theorists take the reasons to believe provided by tellings to be non-evidential (that is, the epistemic force of testimony does not primarily consist in testimony that p providing evidence that p). Assurance theorists distinguish between two ways in which we may learn something by believing another's assertion. Firstly, when someone asserts p we may take this as evidence that they believe p (or perhaps gain the right to believe that they believe that p), and that, since they are likely to be a reliable belief former, we should therefore believe that p. This way of forming beliefs is, according to the assurance theorist, in principle no different from coming to believe that p through observing any aspect of an agent's behaviour and judging that they believe that p. Indeed, Moran (2005b) argues that treating a speaker's utterance as evidence about their beliefs may be worse than treating other behaviour as evidence for their beliefs due to the fact that the evidence provided by assertions is, by its very nature, doctored evidence (see Keren (2012) for a response). Assurance theorists also argue that speakers do not intend for their utterances to be treated as evidence in this way. Ross (1986) argues that in order to take the evidential view one must judge another's utterance by reference to further generalisations about their psychology and the conditions under which they are likely or unlikely to utter particular words. You need to view the assertion in a 'detached objective 15 light, as a natural phenomenon arising from certain causes' (Ross (1986, p72)). Ross observes that we can obviously view other people's utterances this way, but thinks it is far less clear that we can view our own utterances this way. I cannot at one and the same time see it as up to me what I shall say and see my choice, as an observer equipped with a theory of speech behaviour might see it, as determined or constrained by facts about my own nature. (Ross 1986: 72) Such an attitude would, according to Ross, be a form of disengagement from one's own actions, similar to Sartre's 'bad faith'. In order to take an utterance as it is intended by the speaker we must not treat it as evidence. The alternative, according to the assurance theorist, is to treat the speaker's taking responsibility for the audience's belief as a reason for the audience to hold that belief. The idea is that in telling the audience that p the speaker gives the audience permission to epistemically rely on them. When we treat the behaviour of others as evidence for their beliefs, and then form beliefs about the world on the basis of taking others to be reliable belief formers, we do not gain the ability to hold others epistemically responsible for our new beliefs. But when others tell us that p, and we take them at their word, we apparently do. Moran (2005a) summarises the distinction between the two ways of viewing another's testimony as follows: Corresponding to the difference between what the speaker 'gives' and what the speaker 'gives off' is the difference between what I learn from him and what I may learn from what he does and how he does it. Only in the case of what I learn from him, the person, does my relation to his belief involve the speaker assuming any responsibility for what I believe, and that makes a difference to the type of reason to believe that is obtained in the two cases. (Moran 2005a: 335) 16 So the speaker's public commitment to defend the audience's testimonial belief takes centre stage in the assurance theorist's view of testimonial knowledge. It is important to emphasise the role of the speaker's intentions in generating these commitments. It is by openly and intentionally communicating p that the speaker takes responsibility for the audience's belief. It is not clear that one can unintentionally take epistemic responsibility for another's belief. After all, consider the types of reactions we typically have to an unintentional communication of a controversial proposition. When the speaker clearly, openly, and intentionally communicates that p we expect them to present epistemic reasons in defence of p, indicating that we expect the speaker to bear epistemic responsibility for the communicated proposition. However, when a speaker unintentionally communicates p we do not expect them to defend the truth of p, rather we expect them to either defend the reasonableness of their preferred interpretation, or apologise for being unclear (we may also expect some form of compensation for any mishap which resulted from the miscommunication). This indicates that although we sometimes hold the speaker to bear some practical responsibility for propositions unintentionally communicated we do not generally hold them to bear any epistemic responsibility for such propositions. The importance of the speaker's intentions in generating these commitments is emphasised by Moran: Only with respect to what I have called 'personal expression', the intentional action of expressing one's belief, is the person in a position to speak for the meaning or epistemic import of what he is attesting to. With respect to whatever else may express itself in someone's speech or other expressive behaviour, while this may indeed be a source of knowledge for the audience, they are on their own as far as assessing its epistemic significance goes. Since beliefs which are revealed in these ways need not even be known by the speaker himself, the hearer (or observer) cannot assume that the speaker is in a position 17 to offer support or justification for what may be garnered in this way, nor that he speaks with any authority about the meaning or general significance of the belief which manifests itself in his speech or other behaviour. (Moran 2005a: 342) As we observed when discussing Fricker's view, the speaker's public commitment to defend the audience's belief is precisely the type of commitment the deniability problem undermines. This is worrying if the mismatch move is widely available, or if there are particular discourses in which it is widely available. In cases where audiences have to rely heavily on knowledge context the audience's attitude toward the speaker seems to be no less one of trust in the speaker than in the assurance theorist's paradigm cases. Therefore, if the assurance theorist is correct that in the paradigm cases we do not treat assertions as evidence then there are a range of utterances which we do not typically treat as evidence, but which can only provide epistemic reasons in virtue of being treated as evidence (since speakers don't undertake the assurance theorist's required type of commitment in making these utterances). Once again this sanctions a scepticism about the discourses in question. Indeed, it seems that the assurance theorist's emphasis on the speaker's intentions makes the problem especially worrying. This is because the story the speaker must tell in order to maintain plausible deniability about their own intentions will usually require appeal to little more than claims about their own internal mental states (over which they have epistemic authority). In fact a speaker could even maintain that they were simply not paying attention to what they were saying in order to maintain that a rather obvious interpretation was unintended. In such cases we would certainly hold a speaker responsible for some wrong doing, however we would often still accept that they did not intend to communicate what they in fact did communicate. Thus, if the assurance theorist is correct about the role of speaker intentions in generating the types of commitment required for testimonial 18 justification then it will often be fairly easy for speakers to make the mismatch move, meaning that it will be widely available. Of course, there are many commitments and responsibilities we undertake when asserting over which we do not have intentional control. For example, we do not have intentional control over which propositions will actually be communicated by our utterances. However, we still have a moral duty not to make an assertion if it is predictable that in doing so we will communicate something false9. If we do make an utterance which predictably results in a false belief then we will often be held responsible for the resultant belief. This responsibility is not epistemic, even if we believe the predictably communicated proposition we are not thereby duty bound to defend its truth. Nonetheless, we will often be held practically or morally responsible for any misfortune which results from the false belief. It may be thought that these commitments are sufficient to provide a basis for testimonial justification. We might reason, in a similar way to Fricker, that since we are committed to not predictably communicating falsities we will try to only predictably communicate truths. Thus, if a speaker makes an assertion such that it is predictable that p would be communicated by that assertion this provides evidence that the speaker knows that p. Such a view would not provide the kind off anti-reductionist justification the assurance theorist seeks. However, speakers have far less plausible deniability over what will be predictably communicated by an utterance, so perhaps such a view could at least provide a reductionist account of the role of speaker commitments in generating testimonial justification whilst mainly avoiding the deniability problem. Ultimately I think that this view contains more than a grain of truth. However, it is not without its problems. Firstly, speakers are generally far more careless about what they might predictably communicate than what they clearly and openly communicate. Thus, it is not clear just how often audiences will be justified in believing that the speaker knows that p on the basis of the fact that the 9 Thanks to an anonymous reviewer for pointing this out. 19 speaker made an utterance such that it is predictable that that utterance would communicate p. This will depend on just how easily predictable the audience's interpretation was, and on the context (for example, speakers are likely to be far more careful about what they might communicate in a high stakes context than a low sakes context). Secondly, although speakers will have less plausible deniability about what was predictably communicated by their utterance they will might still have some. That is, they might have some plausible deniability regarding their own ability to predict the resultant interpretation. This will involve the construction of a story about the speaker's representation of the context at the time of utterance such that a reasonable agent with that representation could make their utterance without being able to easily predict that they would communicate p. Even if such a story fails to establish that the speaker was not in a position to predict the resultant interpretation it might still convince the audience that their own interpretation was less obvious to the speaker than they thought, thus making the speaker less criticisable for their utterance. Thus it is unclear to what extent such a view does avoid the deniability problem. So far we have seen why the deniability problem is worrying for views which emphasise the role of speaker commitments in generating testimonial justification. In the next section I will consider the role speaker commitments have been taken to play in shaping the audience's epistemic rights with respect to their testimonial belief. 3.2 Deniability and Buck-Passing. In the previous section I argued that the deniability problem is worrying for those who emphasize the role of speaker commitments in testimonial justification. An agent's right to form a testimonial 20 belief is, according to such views, at least partly grounded in the fact that speakers take responsibility for the audience's belief. However, some authors have argued that the epistemic role of speaker commitments extends beyond the justification of testimonial beliefs. They argue that testimonial knowledge comes with distinctive epistemic rights which sets it apart from other forms of knowledge. These rights pertain not to our acquisition of testimonial beliefs but rather our retention of them in the face of challenges. As Goldberg (2006) emphasises this illustrates a sense in which whatever one says about testimonial justification (that is, whether one is a reductionist or an anti-reductionist about testimonial justification) testimonial knowledge is epistemically distinctive. Both Goldberg (2006, 2011) and McMyler (2013), when discussing what is distinctive about testimonial knowledge, have emphasised the fact that audiences have the right to 'pass the buck' in response to challenges. That is, when one forms a testimonial belief on the basis of someone else's say so one has the right, when challenged to retain one's belief and defer to the original testifier. For example, imagine that Sammy tells Lizzie that oats lower cholesterol, and Lizzie then tells Mark that oats lower cholesterol. Mark is sceptical and challenges Lizzie's assertion. At first Lizzie says something vague about low density fibre and bacteria in the intestines, but Mark is not convinced and continues to challenge Lizzie's assertion. At this point Lizzie is able to retain her belief but defer to Sammy, saying 'Well Sammy told me, ask her about it'. That is, Lizzie is able to pass on the responsibility for defending her belief to Sammy, since Sammy was the original testifier. The right to pass the buck in this way is a downstream epistemic right which agents acquire through forming testimonial beliefs. Other belief forming methods (such as perception) do not generate such a right. Thus, the fact that such rights are acquired seems to be a distinctive epistemic feature of testimonial beliefs. Goldberg puts the point as follows: 21 My main contention is that testimonial knowledge is a distinctive kind of knowledge in that this sort of knowledge, but no other, is associated with a characteristic expansion in the sorts of epistemically relevant moves that can be made by the subject in her attempt to identify the direct epistemic support enjoyed by her belief. (Goldberg 2006: 133-134) ...this feature of testimonial knowledge reflects the fact that there is something epistemologically distinctive about relying on the epistemic authority of another rational being: it is because of what is distinctive in relying on the epistemic authority of another rational being, that there is a characteristic expansion in the sort of moves that can be made in defence of a belief acquired on such authority. The characteristic expansion, I suggest, is that testimonial knowledge gives rise to the hearer's right to pass the epistemic buck after her own justificatory resources have been exhausted. (ibid: 134) As emphasised by Goldberg (2006), one can recognise this no matter what one's view of the original justification for testimonial beliefs. This is because the rights pertain not to the conditions under which it is acceptable to form a testimonial belief, but rather the moves one can make when those beliefs are challenged. Moreover, Goldberg (2011) later argues that these distinctive epistemic rights derive from rather uncontroversial features of testimony and assertion. Assuming that assertion has an epistemic norm (that is, assuming that the propriety of an assertion that p requires that the speaker be in some way positively epistemically situated with respect to p) the act of asserting creates mutual knowledge amongst the speaker and audience that the speaker has performed an action the propriety of which requires that they are epistemically well situated with respect to p. Thus, when challenged the audience knows that there is a further body of information (that possessed by the speaker) to which they can appeal in defence of their belief10. As emphasised by 10 However, it is unclear to me how these facts alone generate any form of duty in the speaker to defend the audience's belief, and thus where the audiences right of deferral derives from. 22 both Goldberg and McMyler these rights are genuinely epistemic since they pertain to the ways in which agents are answerable for their beliefs (that is, the epistemic responsibilities they bear with respect to those beliefs). These are taken to be genuinely epistemic features of testimonial knowledge which are not shared by other forms of knowledge. McMyler provides a succinct statement of his reasoning which is worth quoting in full: ..the responsibilities involved in epistemic buck passing are genuinely epistemic responsibilities, responsibilities that pertain to the way in which cognitive agents are distinctively answerable for their beliefs. Belief, I take it, is a commitment-constituted attitude. To believe that p is to commit oneself to a positive answer to the question whether p. A believer is thus answerable for being so committed. She is open to criticism that bears on the content of her commitment, criticism that bears on the question whether p. Plausibly, one aspect of the way in which subjects are thus answerable for their beliefs concerns their epistemic conduct in the face of reasonable challenges to their beliefs, where reasonable challenges to their beliefs involve the presentation of evidence that counts against their beliefs. Typically, when confronted with such a challenge, a rational epistemic agent ought to either find some way to meet the challenge-some basis upon which to rationally discount the evidence presented-or else give up her belief. When it comes to beliefs that are based on being told something by a speaker, however, an epistemic agent is entitled to maintain her belief without meeting the challenge herself by instead passing the epistemic buck back to the speaker. If an audience comes to believe that p on the basis of a speaker's telling, and if a third party challenges the audience's belief by producing evidence that counts against p, the audience is entitled to defer responsibility for meeting the challenge back to the original speaker, whereupon the original speaker is epistemically responsible for meeting the challenge. (McMyler 2013: 1067-1068) 23 I take these considerations to establish that, at least in some cases, testimony generates the right to pass the epistemic buck, and that this is a genuine epistemic right. In such cases the believer will be less responsible for their belief than they would otherwise be. Moreover, this right to defer to the someone else in defending one's belief illustrates a sense in which such beliefs, and the rights we have regarding them, are distinctly social. This brings us to another sense in which the deniability problem seems genuinely problematic. The deniability problem undermines these speaker commitments. This is particularly clear on Goldberg's (2011) statement of the view which rests on there being mutual knowledge between the speaker and hearer that the speaker has performed an action the propriety of which requires that they are epistemically well situated to a particular proposition p. When the mismatch move is available the speaker is able to provide a defeater to this mutual knowledge claim, meaning that they can back out of their commitments. If speakers undertake no public obligation to defend the audience's belief then audiences don't gain the right to defer to the speaker when challenged. Thus, when the mismatch move is available audiences will form testimonial beliefs but will not acquire the distinctive epistemic rights which standardly accompany such beliefs. If there are discourses which are particularly susceptible to the deniability problem then audiences will bear more individual responsibility for the beliefs acquired from such discourse than they think they do (which could lead to overly credulous belief forming). So far I have provided two reasons for worrying about the deniability problem. Before continuing to consider the scope of the deniability problem for assertions I will provide one further consideration to establish that it is genuinely problematic. 3.3. Plausible Deniability and Testimony Policing. 24 So far I have outlined two reasons to worry about the deniability problem. First, it undermines testimonial knowledge on telling based views. Secondly, when the mismatch move is available audiences will not gain the epistemic rights distinctive of testimonial beliefs, meaning that they will bear more responsibility for their beliefs than they think they do. There is one further reason to worry about the deniability problem. Usually when someone falsely asserts that p we can criticise their assertion, and criticise them as an asserter. People who are caught asserting falsehoods are publicly labelled as liars. This is a strong normative assessment, and the chance of being so labelled provides a disincentive against asserting falsehoods. However, when the mismatch move is available it is far harder to make such an accusation. The speaker can always respond claiming that they never intended to communicate the falsehood in question. Thus, if there are discourses which are particularly susceptible to the deniability problem speakers in such discourses will have far less incentive to speak honestly (Goldberg (2013) presses a similar line in order to explain why we should be sceptical of anonymous internet testimony). Of course, we do have other normative assessments available. We can accuse a speaker of being misleading. However, this accusation carries far less normative force, especially if we cannot establish that the speaker has been intentionally misleading. And to establish such a thing will usually require a great deal of information about, for example, the speaker's motivations and their knowledge of their audience. This concludes the first half of the paper. I have outlined the deniability problem, argued that there is no principled reason to hold that it applies only to implicatures, and provided three reasons to consider it genuinely problematic. Firstly, it undermines testimonial knowledge if one embraces a telling based view of testimony. Secondly, it undermines the distinctive epistemic rights typically acquired via testimonial belief formation. And finally it removes the disincentive for speakers to be intentionally misleading with their assertions. In the second half of the paper my task is to identify 25 the scope of the deniability problem for assertions. 4. THE CONTEXTUALIST PUZZLE. So far I have outlined the deniability problem, arguing that there is no principled reason to hold that it applies only to implicatures, and I have provided three reasons to consider it genuinely problematic. What I have not done is argued that a significant number of assertions actually suffer the deniability problem. It is to that task I now turn. I start by considering a puzzle arising from the recent debate over context sensitivity in natural language, which seemingly suggests that the deniability problem is extremely widespread (far more widespread than we would intuitively think). I then discuss some responses to the puzzle which allow us to narrow the scope of the problem back down. We end up with a loose set of criteria for identifying discourses which will be particularly susceptible to the problem. The first part of the puzzle is the seemingly widespread context sensitivity of natural language. The list of context sensitive uses of language includes indexicals, demonstratives, gradable adjectives, comparative adjectives, definite descriptions, indefinite descriptions, adverbs, conditionals, modals, quantifiers, predicates of personal taste, possessives, incomplete adjectives, psychological attributions, moral attributions, perhaps knowledge ascriptions, non-sentential assertion, vagueness, metaphor, hyperbole, and loose talk. This constitutes a large portion of our language use. Some theorists (radical contextualists) go even further, holding that most, perhaps even all, of our language use is context sensitive. Such theorists note, for example, that seemingly context insensitive terms can be used in many different (and incompatible) ways in different contexts (see, 26 for example, Travis (1985), Bezuidenhout (2002)). They also provide general theories of utterance comprehension which entail that we always engage in pragmatic processing to recover what is said. On such views, even when the recovered proposition is the proposition determined by the literal meaning of the terms used, such processing is employed to determine that it is the literal meaning (if there is such a thing (see Recanati (2004))) rather than some alternative 'modulation' which is most appropriate. So, it seems that there is a lot of context sensitivity in natural language, especially if you believe the radical contextualist. This fact by itself shouldn't worry us. What is worrying is that the mechanisms by which we resolve context sensitivity arguably have the same 'ambiguous epistemics' that Fricker argues give rise to the deniability problem for implicatures. Cappelen and Lepore (2004) argue for the radical view that semantic context sensitivity in natural language is restricted to personal pronouns, demonstratives, temporal location adverbs, and the adjectives 'actual' and 'present'. One of their main arguments against widespread semantic context sensitivity is that the mechanisms which contextualists postulate to explain context sensitive communication would seemingly make communication miraculous. They quote the following list of factors to which audiences appeal in resolving context sensitivity: "(i) Knowledge that has already been activated from the prior discourse context (if any). (ii) Knowledge that is available based on who one's conversational partner is and on what community. memberships one shares with that person. (iii) Knowledge that is available through observation of the mutual perceptual environment. (iv) Any stereotypical knowledge or scripts or frames that are associatively triggered by accessing the semantic potential of any of the expressions currently being used. (v) Knowledge of the purposes and abilities of one's conversational partner (e.g. whether the 27 person is being deceitful or sincere, whether the person tends to verbosity or is a person of few words etc.). (vi) Knowledge one has of the general principles governing conversational exchanges (perhaps including Grice's conversational maxims, culturally specific norms of politeness, etc.)." (Bezuidenhout 2002: 117) Cappelen and Lepore point out that if we have to rely on all this information just to recover the content of simple context sensitive utterances such as 'philosophy is fun' then it seems miraculous that we generally tend to communicate smoothly and successfully with context sensitive terms. The fact that we have to rely on such knowledge means that there are many ways the recovery of a given proposition can go wrong. This, as we saw, was precisely what generated the deniability problem for implicatures. There were many ways the recovery of an implicature could go wrong, thus the speaker could easily claim that something did indeed go wrong, disclaiming responsibility for the audience's belief. To see that we do extensively rely on knowledge context to recover what is said consider the two leading approaches to context sensitivity. Saturation: For many sentences the phonetically articulated elements don't exhaust the syntactic structure, there are non-phonetically articulated syntactic elements which need to be assigned values in order for a complete proposition to be expressed. This is usually taken to consist in there being hidden variables in the underlying logical form which take particular types of value11. Some variables will be bound by linguistic material from earlier on in the same sentence, meaning that their values will be easily recoverable. Indeed, one of the 11 Not all theorists take saturation to be mandated by variables in the underlying logical form. Some theorists deny the existence of such variables, yet maintain that utterances of the sentences in question fail to express full propositions, arguing that audiences supply unarticulated constituents in order to fill in the gaps by appeal to the knowledge contexts (Carston (2002a), Hall (2008), Perry (2001), Recanati (2004)). 28 primary reasons for positing hidden variables in clauses such as 'it is raining' is that it looks as if there are longer sentences in which they have a bound reading. However, when such sentences are not embedded the audience must employ knowledge context in order to work out the intended value of the variable (Stanley (2000) pushes this line of reasoning). Often the values which need to be assigned are complex and fine grained. For example, they include properties to restrict quantifiers, and comparison classes for gradable adjectives. The subtle differences in possible values, and the sensitivity of these values to small changes in the mutual goals and presuppositions of the speaker and hearer can, in many cases, give the imaginative speaker scope to make the mismatch move. Take, for example, quantifiers in many cases one can claim the intended range of a given quantifier to be a restriction on the range the audience attributes. You merely need to be able to identify a subset of the domain the audience attributes such that the members of that subset have some distinguishing feature, and identify an aim relative to which this feature would be relevant such that you could, with at least some level of plausibility, have taken it to be mutually presupposed that it was a conversational aim. For example, in the quantifier case in section two the distinguishing feature of the selected subset was that it contained only vegan friendly beers, and the mutual goal was to identify beers which Sally would be able to drink. Speakers are frequently slippery with what they say in precisely this way. Modulation: In cases of modulation a constituent has its meaning adjusted, and thus contributes something new to the truth conditions of the utterance. The concept we end up with will be related to the concept encoded in the constituent before modulation takes place, but will usually serve the speaker's purposes better. For example, a concept may be narrowed and thereby assigned a new meaning which applies to a subset of the original extension (e.g. when Sally, who has just left her timid and underachieving boyfriend says 'I 29 need a man', the concept encoded by 'man' is narrowed in order to apply only to men with particular features commonly associated with masculinity (Carston (2002a)). A concept may also be loosened to generate a new concept which applies to more things than the original concept. Modulation occurs in response to the audience's perception of the demands of the context. It is controversial how the process of modulation works. Some (e.g. Recanati (2004)) think that potential meanings vie for cognitive activation with the most salient meaning being assigned. Others (e.g. Carston (2002a, 2002b), Carson and Wilson (2007)) think that potential meanings are ranked in order of salience and assessed for relevance (a balance of cognitive effects and cognitive effort) until an expectation of optimal relevance is met, at which point the meaning which meets the expectation is assigned. It should be clear from this that modulation also relies heavily on knowledge context, that the type of context sensitivity it accounts for is common (consider how mundane most of the examples were), and that there will often be many ways an audience can go wrong in recovering the correct proposition. When discussing saturation it was noted that in cases where the values assigned are complex the precise values assigned will be very dependent on knowledge context, thus creating a lot of scope for genuine miscommunication, and the mismatch move. The same is true of enrichment. Indeed, since enrichment is even less constrained it seems the problem will be even worse. Enrichment occurs only in response to the audience's impression of the demands of the context, and the values involved are less constrained than in cases of saturation, giving even further scope for the speaker to claim mismatch. Additionally, speakers can claim to have intended to be interpreted more or less literally than they were (an option which is not obviously available in cases of saturation). All in all, it seems that the problems which arise for saturation not only arise, but are multiplied in cases of enrichment12. 12 I think that many contextualists (especially those who focus on modulation and free enrichment) recognise the fact that their theories involve the sorts of 'problematic epistemics' pointed to by Fricker. Many of these theorists have 30 We now have the two components of the puzzle generated by contextualism. Firstly there is reason to believe that there is a great deal of context sensitivity in natural language, secondly there is reason to think that this context sensitivity has the same problematic epistemics which gave rise to the deniability problem for implicatures. This suggests that the deniability problem is very widespread. This is a radical conclusion, and one we should be eager to avoid, since it seems quite obvious that speakers don't have plausible deniability about what they say the majority of the time. I will now consider a series of responses to Cappelen and Lepore's challenge which allow us to narrow down the scope of the problem. 5. RESPONDING TO THE CONTEXTUALIST PUZZLE. I have outlined the deniability problem and argued that we have no principled reason to hold that it applies only to implicatures. Next I provided three reasons to consider it genuinely problematic. I then presented a puzzle which seems to suggest that the deniability problem may be very widespread. Context sensitivity seems to be very widespread in verbal communication, and such communication seems to rely heavily on knowledge context. Cappelen and Lepore have argued that worried about related problems which their own theories raise for communicative success. This has led many prominent theorists (such as Bezuidenhout (1997), Carston (2002), Heck (2002), Recanati (2004), and Sperber and Wilson (1986)) to conclude that communicative success does not require the precise sharing of contents between speaker and audience, but rather entertainment of similar propositions. They endorse this view partly as a result of their recognition of the epistemic difficulties which arise in the recovery of propositional contents. If communicative success required that speakers and audiences shared identical contents then communicative success would be rare due to the epistemic difficulties involved in recovering a propositional content identical to that intended by the speaker (many of these theorists also raise worries about the sharing of Fregean contents). 31 heavy reliance on knowledge context gives a lot of scope for miscommunication, making successful communication seemingly miraculous. Thus, where there is such heavy reliance on knowledge context it may appear that there is a great deal of scope for speakers to employ the mismatch move. In this section I consider a series of responses to Cappelen and Lepore13. I will argue that these responses fail as general responses to the deniability problem. Nonetheless, they are worth considering because they illustrate a sense in which it may be harder for speakers to make the mismatch move in certain contexts. We will see that a discourse must have certain features in order to block plausible deniability for context sensitive assertions. Thus we will be able to identify discourses which are particularly susceptible to the deniability problem. Ishani Maitra (2007) has argued that certain contextual values are more natural and frequently applied than others, and that we will assign such values unless we have reason not to. For example, if I say 'elephants are big' it will be more natural for you to assign the comparison class of species rather than some other comparison class, for example the class of large mammals. You would generally only assess the claim relative to the class of large mammals in response to additional information which made that reading more likely. If this is the case then speakers and hearers will usually converge on the same contents because audiences will not need to appeal to knowledge context to a problematic extent. I think it should be clear that this response won't solve our problem. Even if it does help to explain how interlocutors converge on contents it still leaves a lot of scope for speakers to detach themselves from the proposition recovered. If the audience settles on the more common or natural reading then 13 Cappelen and Lepore's own position is that we must separate semantic content and speech act content, and that speech act content but not semantic content is context sensitive. Many of the same problems arise for their theory as arise for the contextualist, because the proposition we will form a testimonial beliefs in will usually not be the minimal semantic content, but rather the context sensitive speech act content. 32 the speaker may claim that further information should have been appealed to in interpretation. Likewise, if the audience moves away from the more common reading the speaker can claim that the audience drew too much from context and that the common reading was intended. This is not to say that Maitra's response is without use. Certainly in some contexts, and for certain common conversational tasks, standard meanings for terms emerge. And certainly in some contexts there will be a meaning so obviously more natural than all the others that the speaker has no scope for plausible denial concerning what they meant. But it is far from clear that the majority of cases are like this. A related but more promising response has been provided by François Recanati (2010). Recanati doesn't postulate a set of natural or common meanings, however he does postulate that there are important psychological commonalities which dispose people to converge on the same meanings of terms, and which enable us to recognize how others intend concepts to be modulated. For example, people are disposed to recognise the same similarities between the situation of application for a concept, and other situations to which the concept does not straightforwardly apply. As a result they are able to extend or narrow the use of term a which expresses that concept, perhaps modulating the concept along these dimensions of similarity to apply to the new case (see also Bolinger (1968)). Our interpretation is also taken to be guided by sets of implicit biases which are common across speakers and audiences. Recanati does not provide any examples of such biases. However he does point to some biases postulated by psychologists working on the early acquisition of lexical meanings. For example, it is argued by Bloom (2000) that early acquisition of lexical meaning is guided by a whole object bias (a bias toward taking a whole object rather than the parts of an object to be the referent of a term). It is conceivable that a network of such common biases guides our ordinary interpretation and helps us assign values to context sensitive terms14. 14 I suspect that this response only secures convergence on similar rather than identical propositions. This shouldn't worry Recanati since he maintains that similarity of content is sufficient for communicative success (as do 33 This does not solve the deniability problem. Firstly, this network of biases and abilities may often lead audiences in the right direction, but (especially if such biases are rooted in theory of mind) they will still be dependent on assumptions about the context to which the speaker can appeal to in order to claim miscommunication. Thus the mismatch move will still be available. Secondly, this response has a rather narrow scope. Although there may be similarities, or types of similarity, which humans as a kind are more disposed to recognise, and biases toward objects which can be categorised in certain ways, these are extremely unlikely to exhaust the range of similarity judgements and psychological mechanisms which guide interpretation. It would be very surprising if we were not also guided by similarity judgements and biases which are moulded by our individual experiences. This seems especially true when we are dealing with more abstract concepts. This creates a greater chance of genuine mismatch, and more scope for speakers to make the mismatch move. A third response draws our attention to communication as a collaborative affair. It has been argued that conversational participants don't allow situations to arise where there is any realistic chance of content mismatch (Perrini (2009), Recanati (2010)). This is because speakers don't just make an utterance, get interpreted, and move on. Rather, there are collaborative checks in place to ensure understanding. Both speakers and audiences track each other's facial expressions, tone, and body language for signs of misunderstanding or mismatch. Additionally, if there is uncertainty about what was said the audience asks for clarification (Clark and Krych (2001)). In responding to the deniability problem the thought would be this: both audience and speaker collaborate to establish a shared meaning, and audiences can refer back to this when a speaker attempts the mismatch move, thereby blocking plausible deniability. This response also fails. It is Bezuidenhout (1997), Carston (2002), and Heck (2002))). 34 only in cases where either the audience is aware of their lack of understanding, or when their subsequent interactions with the local environment indicate misunderstanding, that mistakes are corrected. When the speaker and hearer are not coordinating on a mutual task involving the local macro level environment the hearer will have nothing to refer to when calling out the speaker. Additionally, many similar but epistemically distinct contextual values (e.g. quantifier domain restrictions) will have very similar behavioural consequences, meaning that misunderstanding won't immediately generate behavioural evidence of miscommunication. So the response is somewhat limited in scope. So far I have surveyed a series of responses to Cappelen and Lepore and found them lacking as responses to the deniability problem. Nonetheless, I think they can teach us something important. These responses draw our attention to a set of resources to which an audience can appeal in certain contexts in an attempt to call out a speaker who is attempting the mismatch move, thereby blocking plausible deniability. For example, if there is a clear common use for a term (or common default contextual value), and the audience reasonably assigns such a value only to be met by the mismatch move later on, then the audience is able to maintain that the speaker should have been more explicit about their intention, maintaining that they are partly responsible for the resultant belief. The same goes for modulation based on similarity relations and biases. This is especially true in cases where there are checks in place related to some mutual task. If someone acts on the basis of their understanding, and at that point the speaker fails to flag any misunderstanding, then this goes some way to confirming the audience's initial interpretation, making it far harder for the speaker to make the mismatch move without descending into absurdity. In general, the more the audience is able to check that they have the correct understanding, and the more obvious the default understandings are, the harder it will be for a speaker to claim mismatch without absurdity. 35 These resources are rather limited, and in one-off instances they may often prove ineffective. However, if speakers repeatedly try to employ the mismatch move in order to avoid commitment in circumstances where these resources are available then audiences will be able to call them out on their frequent misleading behaviour. It may be plausible that in a one-off case the speaker intended the audience to assign a more esoteric meaning to a term than they did. However, it becomes far less plausible in a long run of cases. Repeat offenders will lose plausible deniability. Moreover, speakers have motive to avoid appealing to the mismatch move in contexts where checks are in place, for if they make the move frequently then they will quickly lose credibility as an informant. The deniability problem now seems somewhat less worrying. However, it was only weakened for discourses where audiences have the resources to call out the speaker by appeal to standard meanings, very obvious ways of extending a meaning, or checks which serve to reliably confirm understanding. It is a partially empirical question how many discourses actually have these features. However, I think it is likely that some important discourses lack them. The deniability problem still arises with its full force for such discourses. These will be discourses in which context sensitivity (especially more unconstrained context sensitivity such as modulation) is rife, which don't involve coordination on macro level tasks, where the values or modulated concepts are complex or abstract, and where there are no highly standardised or clearly stated contextual values. Such discourses provide speakers with a lot of scope to make the mismatch move without losing much credibility. There will be more resources to which speakers can appeal in order to claim misunderstanding, and fewer checks an audience can appeal to in order to call them out or hold them responsible. It is not the task of this paper to establish conclusively that any particular discourse has such features, however several important discourses do seem to be candidates. For example, religious discourse is arguably rife with context sensitivity (consider the many and varied religious conceptions of salvation, love, and even God (see Alston (2005), and Scott (2005) for useful overviews discussing 36 the context sensitivity of religious language), it has a highly abstract subject matter, and it is not clear that there are always sufficient efforts put in place to coordinate on precise explicit meanings. Likewise much public political discourse seemingly has such features (for example, consider the possible varied meanings of terms like 'class warfare'). Indeed, this no doubt adds to the stereotype of politicians as slippery and dishonest. Another important candidate seems to be ethical discourse outside of academic settings (where there are often norms which require precision and coordination on standard meanings). Such discourse is abstract, arguably context sensitive, and seemingly lacks a norm requiring explicit joint efforts to coordinate on precise meanings. Of course, it is beyond the scope of this paper to establish that any of these discourses do have the features in question. However, given the importance of such discourses in our everyday lives this seems like a worthy question for further research. 6. CONCLUSION. I have outlined the deniability problem for assertions, explained why it is genuinely problematic, and presented a line of reasoning which seems to suggest that the problem is very widespread. I then looked at several ways of narrowing the scope of the problem back down. It was found that the deniability problem would be less problematic in discourses with certain features. I suggested a selection of important discourses which may still face the problem. It is not clear how we should react once we discover that a discourse faces the deniability problem. I suspect that the correct reaction will vary between different discourses. One reaction may be to try and establish a set of precise meanings within the discourse, and eliminate context sensitivity as 37 much as possible (for example, if certain areas of academic discourse were found to face the deniability problem, this would probably be the more appropriate response). An alternative response would be to give less weight to testimony in the problematic discourse. One could treat knowledge regarding the subject matter as necessarily personal rather than social. One could reconceptualise the role of apparent testimony in the discourse, perhaps taking it to be expressive, or seeing it as intended not to bring about belief but rather reflection or some other attitude. And another alternative would just be to view the discourse with scepticism. The plausibility of any given response will depend on the discourse in question. Finally, one might simply choose to weaken the focus on speaker commitments in one's theory of testimony15. REFERENCES. Alston, W. 2005. 'Religious Language'. From J. Wainwright, (ed), The Oxford Handbook of Philosophy of Religion, pp. 220-242. Oxford university Press. Bezuidenhout, A. 1997. 'The Communication of De Re Thoughts'. Nous, 31:197-225. 2002. 'Truth Conditional Pragmatics.' Philosophical Perspectives, 16: 105-134. Bloom, P. 2000. How Children Learn the Meaning of Words. Cambridge Mass: MIT Press/Bradford Books. Bolinger, D. 1968. Aspects of Language. New York: Harcourt, Brace and World. Cappelen,H. and Lepore E. 2004. Insensitive Semantics: A Defence of Semantic Minimalism and Speech Act Pluralism. Blackwell Publishers. 15 Many thanks to Herman Cappelen, an anonymous reviewer for this journal, and participants in the the Arché Evidence, Justification, and Knowledge seminar for comments which greatly improved the quality of this paper. This research was supported by the United Kingdom Arts and Humanities Research Council. 38 Carston, R. 2002a. Thoughts and Utterances: The Pragmatics of Explicit Communication. Wiley Blackwell. Carston, R. 2002b. 'Metaphor, Ad Hoc Concepts, and Word Meaning: More Questions than Answers.' UCL Working Papers in Linguistics, 14: 83-105. Carston, R. and Wilson, D. 2007. 'A Unitary Approach to Lexical Pragmatics: Relevance, Inference, and Ad Hoc Concepts.' In N. Burton-Roberts (ed), Pragmatics, pp. 230-259. Basingstoke and New York Palgrave Macmillan. Clark, H. and Krych, A. 2001. 'Speaking While Monitoring Addressees for Understanding.' Journal of Memory and Language, 50: 62-81. Fricker, E. 1994. 'Against Gullibility.' From B.K. Matilal and A. Chakrabarti (eds), Knowing From Words, pp 125-163. Kluwer Academic Publishers. 1995. ''Telling and Trusting Reductionism and Anti-Reductionism in the Epistemology of Testimony.' Mind, 104: 393-411. 2006a. 'Second Hand Knowledge.' Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 73: 592-618. 2006b. 'Varieties of Anti-Reductionism About Testimony: A Response to Goldberg and Henderson.' Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 72: 618-628. 2012. 'Stating and Insinuating.' Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society Supplementary Volume, 86: 61-95. Goldberg, S. 2006. 'Reductionism and the Distinctiveness of Testimonial Knowledge.' From J. Lackey and E. Sosa (eds), The Epistemology of Testimony, pp. 127-144. Oxford University Press. 2011. 'Putting the Norm of Assertion to Work: The case of Testimony'. From H. Cappelen and J. Brown (eds), Assertion: New Philosophical Essays, pp.175-197. Oxford University Press. 2013. 'Anonymous Assertions.' Episteme, 10: 135-151. Hall, A. 2008. 'Free Enrichment or Hidden Indexicals.' Mind and Language, 23 : 426-456. Heck, R. 2002. 'Do Demonstratives have Senses?' Philosopher's Imprint, 2: 1-33. 39 Hinchman, E. 2005. 'Telling as Inviting to Trust.' Philosophy and Phenomenological Research. 70: 562-587. Keren, A. 2012. 'On the Alleged Perversity of the Evidential View of Testimony.' Analysis, 72: 700707. MacFarlane, J. 2005. 'Making Sense of Relative Truth.' Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 105: 321-339. 2011. 'What is Assertion?.' From J. Brown and H. Cappelen (eds), Assertion, pp. 79-96. Oxford University Press. Maitra, I. 2007. 'How and Why to be a Moderate Contextualist.' From G. Preyer and G. Peter (eds), Context Sensitivity and Semantic Minimalism: New Essays on Semantics and Pragmatics, pp. 112-133. Oxford University Press. McMyler, B. 2013. 'The Epistemic Significance of Address.' Synthese, 190: 1059-1078. Moran, R. 2005a. 'Problems of Sincerity.' Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 105: 341-361. 2005b. 'Getting Told and Being Believed.' Philosopher's Imprint, 5: 1-29 Perrini, E. 2009. 'Does Contextualism Make Communication a Miracle?' Manuscripto, 32: 231247. Perry, J. 2001. Reference and Reflexivity. Stanford:CSLI Publications. Recanati, F. 2004. Literal Meaning. Cambridge University Press. 2010. Truth Conditional Pragmatics. Oxford University Press. Rescorla, M. 2009. 'Assertion and its Constitutive Norms.' Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 79: 98-130. Ross, A. 1986. 'Why Do We Believe What We Are Told.' Ratio, 28: 69-88. Scott, M. 2010. 'Religious Language.' Philosophy Compass, 5: 505-515. Sperber, D. and Wilson, D. 1986. Relevance: Communication and Cognition. Oxford: Blackwell; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. 40 Stanley, J. 2000. 'Context and Logical Form.' Linguistics and Philosophy, 23: 391-434. Travis, C. 1985. 'On What is Strictly Speaking True.' Canadian Journal of Philosophy, 15: 187-229.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Electronic copy available at: http://ssrn.com/abstract=1407517 The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 1 The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument by Filip Spagnoli (draft please do not use without permission) Brussels, March 26, 2009, revision: August 22, 2011 Electronic copy available at: http://ssrn.com/abstract=1407517 The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 2 Table of Contents 0. Introduction 1. What is torture? 2. What is the ticking bomb argument? 3. Assumptions of the ticking bomb argument 3.1. Assumption 1: A real-life case 3.2. Assumption 2: Knowledge and knowledge about knowledge 3.3. Assumption 3: It works 3.4. Assumption 4: No alternative 3.5. Assumption 5: Exceptional 3.6. Assumption 6: The Greater Good 4. Conclusion References The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 3 "We cannot torture because of who we are". Michael Ignatieff 1 "If torture is the only means of obtaining the information necessary to prevent the detonation of a nuclear bomb in Times Square, torture should be used and will be used to obtain the information. ... no one who doubts that this is the case should be in a position of responsibility." Richard Posner 2 "During numerous public appearances since September 11, 2001, I have asked audiences for a show of hands as to how many would support the use of nonlethal torture in a ticking-bomb case. Virtually every hand is raised." Alan Dershowitz 3 0. Introduction The most astonishing by-product of the events of 9-11 is undoubtedly the renewed legitimacy, in the eyes of many, of some forms of torture. Since many centuries, the most brutal dictators have felt the need to lie and deceive about their torture practices, and now we have political and intellectual leaders of the free world openly arguing in favor of the use of torture in certain cases. The most commonly cited of these cases is the one described in the so-called "ticking bomb argument" (henceforth TBA). The kind of torture that is supposedly justified by this argument can be characterized as benevolent torture, well-intentioned torture, or even moral torture because it is different from torture as it is commonly used by certain oppressive or authoritarian governments. "Ticking bomb torture" is not a method of terrorizing and subjugating a population, and neither is it a form of criminal punishment or a means of establishing innocence or guilt. On the contrary, its declared purpose is to protect the population and to avoid a terrorist attack on civilian targets. It is benevolent tor- 1 In Rebecca Evans (2007), The Ethics of Torture, in Human Rights & Human Welfare, Vol. 7. 2 In The New Republic, September 2002. 3 Alan Dershowitz (2002), Why Terrorism Works, Yale University Press, New Haven & London. The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 4 ture because its objective is not fear or punishment, but safety and security. It is moral torture because reluctance to engage in it would endanger the lives of innocent civilians, and would therefore be immoral. "A society that elects to favor the interests of wrongdoers over those of the innocent, when a choice must be made between the two, is in need of serious ethical rewiring".4 Proponents of the TBA readily agree that they discuss an exceptional case which is unrepresentative of torture in general most real cases of torture have absolutely nothing to do with the example given in the TBA or fail to conform to the hypotheses present in the TBA and which in no way justifies torture that has other, and less benevolent purposes. Yet they believe that this exceptional nature of the case does not render it insignificant or irrelevant. In the setting of a "war on terrorism", it can be extremely important to agree on the soundness of the TBA because no matter how exceptional the case may be, when it occurs it has important consequences. A clear agreement on the TBA is necessary in order to save many lives in exceptional cases. I will argue in this paper that the TBA is fundamentally flawed because it is based on a number of untenable assumptions. Moreover, I argue that the TBA, when thought through until its logical conclusions, ends up condoning torture of a much less exceptional and benevolent nature than the torture it started with. In other words, the TBA proves too much. It would not only put us on a "slippery slope" towards ever increasing levels of torture, but also destroy our democracy and freedom. It is, in the words of the title of this paper, the little door to hell. The TBA tries to force a small opening into an area of human activity that is shielded by a very strong, and perhaps even absolute moral5 and legal6 taboo, and then finds that it has allowed this activity to take over civilization. 1. What is torture? I'll first present a short, operational definition of torture.7 Torture is The intentional and non-accidental infliction of severe physical and in some cases mental pain or suffering8 by one person on another, non- 4 Mirko Bagaric, in The Age, May 17, 2005, http://www.theage.com.au/news/Opinion/A-case-fortorture/2005/05/16/1116095904947.html. 5 Jeremy Waldron, What Are Moral Absolutes Like, Lecture presented at the Annual Lecture for the Harvard Philosophy Club, Cambridge, Massachusetts, April 2011, http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1906850 6 See the United Nations Convention Against Torture: "No exceptional circumstances whatsoever, whether a state of war or a threat of war, internal political in stability or any other public emergency, may be invoked as a justification of torture", (article 2), http://www2.ohchr.org/english/law/cat.htm. 7 Based loosely on the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy lemma on torture, http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/torture/. The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 5 consenting and defenseless person who may or may not be guilty of a crime. While assuming complete control over the victim's body and autonomy. With the purpose of extracting information (forward-looking) or a confession (backward-looking)9 and/or punishing or degrading the victim and/or coercing the victim to act in a certain way or believe certain things and/or terrorizing, intimidating, pacifying or oppressing the victim and/or the wider society. This definition is compatible with, although somewhat wider than, the definition offered in the United Nations Convention Against Torture: "Torture is any act by which severe pain or suffering, whether physical or mental, is intentionally inflicted on a male or female person for such purposes as obtaining from him, or a third person, information or a confession, punishing him for an act he or a third person has committed or is suspected of having committed, or intimidating or coercing him or a third person, or for any reason based on discrimination of any kind, when such pain or suffering is inflicted by or at the instigation of or with the consent or acquiescence of a public official or other person acting in an official capacity. It does not include pain or suffering arising only from, inherent in, or incidental to, lawful sanctions".10 These definitions exclude, at first sight, acts of self-defense, masochism or other types of consensual violence, violent acts between combatants in the course of war, "collateral damage" or accidental injuries to civilians in the course of war, some forms of atomic warfare, some forms of corporal punishment and possible other actions as well. Although these actions are not, according to the definitions given above, cases of torture, they may be morally wrong, and perhaps even more so than torture. However, none of this is uncontroversial, and I accept that the definition of torture as described here can be criticized. Nevertheless, I would ask the reader to accept this definition on face value and temporarily, for the duration of my argument. The purpose here is simply to offer a workable definition, not to enter into a philosophical argument on the nature of torture. Such an argument is obviously necessary especially given the recent attempts, for instance by the Bush Administration, to narrow down the concept of torture in such a way that many acts normally considered to be torture, would become admissible11 but I consciously sidestep it here because it would distract from the main objective of this paper. 8 An example of mental suffering is a mock execution. 9 See David Luban (2005), Liberalism, Torture, and the Ticking Bomb, in Virginia Law Review, Vol. 91, p. 1436, http://www.virginialawreview.org/content/pdfs/91/1425.pdf. 10 http://www2.ohchr.org/english/law/cat.htm. 11 Take for instance John Yoo's and the Justice Department's infamous definition of torture: "Physical pain amounting to torture must be equivalent in intensity to the pain accompanying serious physical injury, such The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 6 2. What is the ticking bomb argument? The TBA has been put forward and defended by many writers and politicians,12 hence there are many versions. However, they all start with a description of a very particular type of terrorist attack: a ticking bomb has been hidden in a densely populated area and will soon kill thousands or millions if not disarmed, and the authorities have captured a terrorist who has either hidden the bomb himself or knows where it has been hidden. One can replace the "ticking bomb" with another and similar type of deadly devise without changing the nature of the TBA. (The "ticking bomb" is in fact a "pars pro toto", encompassing cases which do not necessarily involve an actual ticking bomb but which are nevertheless similar with respect to their circumstances and consequences). The problem faced by the authorities is that the captured person does not want to reveal the whereabouts of the bomb, but will do so under torture. There is no other or alternative way to extract this information. Are we not morally allowed to use torture in order to get the information and save numerous lives? Or, a somewhat stronger claim: are we not morally forced to torture given the enormous benefits for large numbers of people compared to the limited costs for the tortured individual? "Given the choice between inflicting a relatively small level of harm on a wrongdoer and saving an innocent person, it is verging on moral indecency to prefer the interests of the wrongdoer".13 This stylized description of the TBA brings out the claim regarding the moral and benevolent nature of the kind of torture that is defended here. Torture, according to the TBA, is morally justified in such cases, and perhaps even also morally necessary given the absence of alternatives. A refusal to torture would be immoral because it would necessarily lead to bloodshed. The government official who willfully declines to use the only available option to stop a terrorist attack, is as guilty and immoral as the terrorist. The moral nature of torture is not incompatible with the belief that torture is morally wrong. Most proponents of the TBA agree that torture is morally wrong, but argue that it is a lesser evil in some circumstances, and justify it on these grounds. They commonly engage in some form of consequentialist or utilitarian moral reasoning. For most consequentialists, a lesser of two evils is the morally right ac- as organ failure, impairment of bodily function, or even death. For purely mental pain or suffering to amount to torture (under U.S. law), it must result in significant psychological harm of significant duration, e.g., lasting for months or even years", http://berkeley.edu/news/media/releases/2005/01/05_johnyoo.shtml. See also Rebecca Evans (2007), The Ethics of Torture, in Human Rights & Human Welfare, Vol. 7. 12 Inter alia Charles Krauthammer, Mirko Bagaric, Philip Bobbitt, Richard Posner, Alan Dershowitz and Fritz Allhoff. 13 Mirko Bagaric, in The Age, May 17, 2005, http://www.theage.com.au/news/Opinion/A-case-fortorture/2005/05/16/1116095904947.html. The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 7 tion.14 An "evil" or immoral action is morally right and morally necessary if it is able to stop or undo another "evil" or immoral action that causes or would cause more harm. Any action is morally right, according to consequentialism, if it maximizes total aggregate happiness (or utility), and minimizes total aggregate harm.15 The consequentialism of the TBA rejects the absolute prohibition against torture typical of the deontologist school of moral thought.16 The main assumptions of the ticking bomb case, as it is described in most versions of the TBA, are: A terrorist attack is being planned in a known location. It is also known that the attack is about to be carried out in the very near future. The "ticking" element of the TBA conveys a sense of great urgency. This means that alternatives not involving torture such as evacuation are not available. (Again, no actually "ticking" bomb is required for the TBA to work a similar device or procedure creating the same urgency will do the trick). The terrorist who has hidden the bomb, or one of his accomplices who knows where it is hidden, has been captured by the authorities of the country/city/etc. that will be the target of the attack. The government agents who captured the terrorist/accomplice know the location and the imminence of the attack, but they also know that the captured person has information which, if extracted, can prevent the attack. The information cannot be extracted from the terrorist/accomplice without torture. Below I will expand and criticize some of these assumptions. 3. Assumptions of the ticking bomb argument The TBA works on the basis of a number of explicit and implicit assumptions. If it can be argued convincingly that these assumptions are untenable, either in themselves or because they result in unwanted consequences, then the TBA will lose much if not all of its strength. 3.1. Assumption 1: A real-life case A first assumption of the TBA is that the ticking bomb scenario describes a case that is a real possibility and that governments may one day have to deal with (or have dealt with already). In other words, it is not just a thought experiment, like 14 Antony Lamb (2008), Review of Bob Brecher (2007), Torture and the Ticking Bomb, Blackwell Publishing, Oxford, in Philosophical Frontiers, Vol. 3, Issue 2. 15 Allhoff, Fritz (2005), A Defense of Torture: Separation of Cases, Ticking Time-bombs and Moral Justification, in International Journal of Applied Philosophy, 19:2, p. 248. 16 Brecher is an example of a deontologist, although he chooses to attack the TBA on utilitarian grounds. The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 8 Schrödinger's cat or Maxwell's demon. Indeed, proponents of the TBA argue that the ongoing "war on terror" makes the scenario all the more realistic. Although we can't categorically state that the scenario will never occur in real life, the probability that it will is extremely low. This is because of the very demanding nature of the assumptions of the scenario. For example, law enforcement officers or military and intelligence personnel usually do not arrest terrorists or accomplices before the terrorist act takes place (usually they make the arrests afterwards, and sometimes they do not even manage to do that). And even when they make an arrest before the attack, it is unlikely that they have enough information to know that they have captured someone who knows the whereabouts of a bomb that is about to go off. So the case is extremely exceptional at best. However, it is not an impossible case. I agree, therefore, with the proponents of the TBA that this first assumption is correct. A ticking bomb case can present itself to the authorities of a country: it may be possible in some instances to arrest a terrorist or an accomplice just before the terrorist act takes place, and one may, at that time, know that the attack will take place and that the person on custody has relevant information. The exceptional nature of the case is confirmed by the fact that there are as yet no historical examples. Some cases that are claimed to be "ticking bomb cases" such as the torture of Abdul Hakim Murad are in fact, after closer examination, none of the kind. Murad only gave away his information after a month of torture, and it came as a surprise. He was tortured not because of an imminent threat. There was no such threat, and the torturers did not act on the assumption that there was. "In 1995, the police in the Philippines tortured Abdul Hakim Murad after finding a bomb-making factory in his apartment in Manila. They broke his ribs, burned him with cigarettes, forced water down his throat, then threatened to turn him over to the Israelis. Finally, from this withered and broken man came secrets of a terror plot to blow up 11 airliners, crash another into the headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency and to assassinate the pope. ... it took more than a month to break Mr. Murad and extract information a delay that would have made it impossible to head off an imminent threat".17 3.2. Assumption 2: Knowledge and knowledge about knowledge So we can agree with the proponents of the TBA that a ticking bomb case, as described in the TBA, can indeed occur in real life, and that one is, in exceptional cases, able to arrest a terrorist or accomplice just before the terrorist act takes place, and that one knows that the attack will take place. For the ticking bomb argument to be valid, however, we need a further assumption. Torture does not seem to 17 Michael Slackman, What's Wrong With Torturing A Qaeda Higher-Up?, in The New York Times, Sunday, May 16, 2004. The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 9 be justified by the simple fact that we know that a bomb is about to go off, and that we have arrested someone who we believe, based on good reasons, is involved in the attack. We have to be positively sure that the captured terrorist or accomplice does indeed have the information that is required for us to stop the attack or explosion to take place. This assumption reduces the probability of a ticking bomb case. Most of the time, we are not sure that a captured terrorist is someone who knows where the ticking bomb is hidden. All we may have is a good guess. And even if the captured terrorist told us that he knows, he may be a fantasist. But if we are not sure that the person under arrest has the necessary information, can we then start torturing this person in order to be sure? That would mean that we do not just torture in order to get life saving information. We torture in order to know whether this person has or does not have such information. It is obvious that in this case we may torture people who don't have information, or that we may have to torture many people before we find the right person. Hence, we may have to torture innocent people, or at least people who, although accomplices, are not justifiable objects of torture since the TBA claims that torture is justified because it is necessary to obtain life saving information. These people do not have such information, and hence their torture is not justified according to the TBA. Some other justification is required in order to be able to use torture on people who do not obviously and undoubtedly possess life saving information. This seems to fall outside the TBA, an argument which is therefore at best incomplete. Because of this imperfection in the TBA, its proponents will be tempted to expand the TBA in order to save it, and to allow "second degree torture", torture not only of the terrorist who we know has information, but also of people who we suspect may have information. This is the first but not the last time the TBA expands the field of justified torture. One could accept the validity of the TBA if this expansion does not (have to) take place and if the other assumptions described below are correct but the price to pay would most likely be futility. We would be accepting an argument that has no practical use because it is about a case that is extremely exceptional. Indeed, real life cases will rarely if ever have to following characteristics: we have captured a terrorist just before an imminent attack we know that there is an attack imminent and we know for certain that the captured terrorist has vital information that will allow us to stop the attack. Especially the latter characteristic is very improbable, which gives us the choice of either not torturing anybody, or torturing a possibly numerous set of people in order to pinpoint the person with the vital information. Proponents of the TBA are unlikely to stop here, for reasons described below (reasons which are related to the consequentialism of most of these proponents). Hence they are likely to accept the expansion of torture, from the single terrorist having vital information about the attack, to a wider range of persons who, we suspect, may have such information. This expansion is not only a spatial one. It also means The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 10 moving torture at a higher level of cruelty. Torturing people in order to find out if they have information is likely to be the worst kind of torture: since many of them do not know anything, they will be subject to the longest and deepest forms of torture.18 3.3. Assumption 3: It works However, the TBA still needs a further assumption, namely that torture is an efficient tool for extracting reliable information. Even if we grant assumption 2 we have captured someone who knows about the bomb, and we know that he knows that does not by itself justify torture. There's widespread evidence that torture does not allow the extraction of reliable information.19 And this also corresponds to intuition: people who are tortured say anything in order to make it stop. When they are innocent and don't know anything, they will send the torturers off in all directions at a time when focused and urgent action is needed. And when the torturers have identified the correct person, i.e. the person having life saving information, they will torture someone who knows that the attack is imminent and who is therefore highly motivated to endure what he or she knows to be a relatively short "session". This person is probably also trained to endure torture. The supposed efficiency of torture is also undermined in other ways, for instance by the likelihood that the terrorist, knowing that the attack is imminent and that time is of the essence, will deliberately give false information so as to misdirect the torturers long enough for the bomb to go off. The torturers have to engage in this kind of wild goose chases because they don't have the time to verify the story through prolonged "verification torture" (torture that is intended to test a story extracted by previous torture). They have to go and check that the bomb is indeed where the terrorist told them to find it.20 If torturing the terrorist does not make him or her speak, the TBA must, according to its own logic, also justify torturing the terrorist's family, children and friends (a kind of indirect torture aimed at "convincing" the terrorist to give information). If torturing him or her is insufficient, then further options are equally justifiable. The cost-benefit analysis on which the ticking bomb argument is based justifies torturing the family. The guilt or innocence of the family, or of anybody else who is tortured, is irrelevant. What counts is that the cost of torture does not outweigh the 18 See Defusing the Ticking Bomb Scenario, paper by the Association for the Prevention of Torture, (2007), p. 7, http://www.apt.ch/content/view/109/lang,en/. 19 See for instance Michael Slackman, What's Wrong With Torturing A Qaeda Higher-Up?, in The New York Times, Sunday, May 16, 2004, or Rebecca Evans (2007), The Ethics of Torture, in Human Rights & Human Welfare, Vol. 7, p. 57. 20 See Defusing the Ticking Bomb Scenario, paper by the Association for the Prevention of Torture, (2007), p. 8, and also Clive Coleman, Why ticking-bomb torture stinks, http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/guest_contributors/article785050.ece. The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 11 good it does, i.e. the number of lives it saves. Of course, we don't torture one terrorist or one terrorist's family in order to save one other person or family, but the gains of torture are stipulated as being extremely high in the TBA. Torturing the family of the terrorist is, like torturing the terrorist himself, a lesser evil compared to the harm resulting from our failure to stop the attack. After all, the torture of the terrorist himself is not justified by his guilt or complicity, but simply by the benefits that result from the information that is extracted through torture. Hence, torturing innocent family members is no objection if it produces a greater good (see also below). This is a second expansion of torture warranted by the TBA. However, if we add this expansion to the expansion described in the previous paragraph, we may be talking about a relatively large group of torture victims, and the utilitarian calculus may no longer be as clear cut as it seemed in the beginning, forcing the proponent of the TBA to increase the number of lives saved by torture. Ultimately, the proponents of the TBA have to say how far they are willing to go. If torturing one person doesn't work, how many people can be tortured in order to save how many lives? 1 for 1.000 lives? 1 for 2 lives? Or just always one less than the number of lives saved by torture? The risk of a slippery slope leading to a wide application of torture is evident. The proponents of the TBA could of course claim that we are pushing the argument too far, and that such borderline cases are even more exceptional than ticking bomb cases in general. They could argue that things are clear when we go into the really big numbers of people saved by torturing a few individuals, and that the TBA is about those cases only. Torturing even a few people in order to safe a thousand or a million is a "no-brainer" (in the words of former Vice-President Cheney21). Again, this defense of the TBA risks a collapse into futility. The reality is that most terrorist attacks do not kill millions or even thousands. A few dozen is a more realistic number. And, at the same time, the number of perpetrators is usually much higher than the single "super-villain" depicted in the TBA. Hence the risk that the "torture candidates" including those suspected of having knowledge as well as friends and family outnumber the number of likely victims and that the costbenefit analysis typical of the TBA doesn't hold water. Again, one is allowed to wonder if the TBA has any relation to reality. In a certain sense, the fact that real-life terrorism usually kills only a small number of people limits the risk of the slippery slope: if terrorists usually don't kill large numbers of people, then torture isn't justified under TBA the utilitarian calculus of the TBA proponents demands that the benefits resulting from torture far outweigh the harm done by torture. I don't know of any TBA proponent who justifies torture if it produces only a small overall benefit. On the other hand, we now see that the element of urgency and the imminent character of the attack have been sidelined by the TBA. What matters is not the timeframe but the balance of harm. Therefore, the cases where torture is justified in the philosophy of the TBA proponents are no longer limited to ticking bomb cases but cover many more terrorist attacks, namely 21 in http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/10/26/AR2006102601521.html. The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 12 all those attacks where the possible harm of the attack is much larger than the harm inflicted by torture.22 3.4. Assumption 4: No alternative Again, let us accept all the above assumptions, for the sake of argument. Even if there are and will be real cases of terrorist attacks resembling the description of the TBA, there are no knowledge or information problems, and torture is an efficient tool for extracting information, then there is yet another assumption implicit in the TBA: one of the supposedly strong points of the ticking bomb argument is the lack of an alternative to torture. There seems to be nothing else one can do in the given case (remember that one of the characteristics of the case is urgency). Even if we're not sure that torture works, that we are torturing the right person, that this person will not deliberately waste our time, and that we run the risk of having to torture innocent people, what else can we do? Maybe we are torturing the right person and maybe he will help. However, this supposed lack of an alternative hinges on some dubious assumptions regarding the timing: "On the one hand, to represent some type of ticking bomb scenario, the timing of attack must be far enough in the future that there is a realistic chance of doing something to stop it. On the other hand, if it is so far off in the future that the loss of life can be prevented in some other way (evacuation, for instance) then the supposed "need" for torture simply disappears. Furthermore, the more time until the attack, the greater the chance that humane interrogation methods will produce results".23 3.5. Assumption 5: Exceptional Given the urgency in the example of the ticking bomb, and given the fact that terrorists are often trained to withstand torture, a free society would have to "maintain a professional class of torturers, and to equip them with continuously-updated torture techniques and equipment. Grave dangers to democracy and to individual freedoms would be posed by an institutionalized professional "torture squad"." 24 Such a highly trained and continuously available torture squad would be necessary to inflict torture that is likely to succeed in extracting the information on a reliable 22 Rebecca Evans (2007), The Ethics of Torture, in Human Rights & Human Welfare, Vol. 7, p. 58. 23 Defusing the Ticking Bomb Scenario, paper by the Association for the Prevention of Torture, (2007), p. 6, http://www.apt.ch/content/view/109/lang,en/. 24 ibidem, p. 9. The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 13 basis and within an extremely short time frame, that inflicts levels of pain sufficient to procure the victim's compliance but insufficient to kill or render incapable of communication. Amateur thugs will not suffice. This is the institutionalization of torture. It is difficult to see how a free society could survive the presence of such a squad. It would infect the entire society to know that there are people among us who torture for a living. The squad members themselves will most likely fail to remain well-intentioned, and the mere existence of such a squad corrupts morality in a society. It's naive to think that the members of the torture squad will return to normality once their job is done and function like normal law-abiding and non-violent citizens in between emergency sessions.25 Again we see that it is highly probable that the logical conclusions resulting from the TBA will lead to an expansion of torture and perhaps even the destruction of a democracy and a free society that decides to go this way. It's likely that only the direct harm produced by torture is included in the utilitarian calculus, and that long-term damage to freedom and democracy is excluded. The TBA therefore results in an expansion of torture in several ways. First, the TBA's utilitarianism justifies torture of many more people than only the "captured terrorist", and its reliance on the assumption of information availability forces it to accept torture as a means to determine the fact that someone has or doesn't have information. Secondly, the TBA's utilitarianism leads to justifications of torture that go beyond the imminent and urgent cases that the TBA starts with. And thirdly, the TBA is forced to accept the institutionalization of torture, and with it the risk of normalization of torture. Ultimately, the TBA may destroy political freedom altogether. But the expansion doesn't stop at the borders of the torturing state. If a democratic government wants to use torture, in so-called exceptional cases and for benevolent motives, then it renders torture legitimate in the eyes of other governments who worry much less about exceptions and benevolence. If the U.S. for example violates the principles it teaches, other and more repressive governments will find it easier to resist calls for change. The U.S. or other democratic states will expose themselves as hypocrites. They will be weakened in their attempts to democratize other countries and make them more respectful of human rights. Hence, torture in free societies, supposedly justified by the TBA, promotes torture elsewhere, and because of this these free societies to the extent that they remain free will ultimately have a much harder time to do something about some of the human rights violations that feed some of the terrorism that torture was supposed to stop. Torturing terrorists is therefore counterproductive. And this is true for another reason as well. If you use torture in order to stop terrorists, you radicalize these terrorists and you promote existing opposition to your country. Terrorists will find it easier to recruit volunteers to fight against you, to win sympathy and support among populations etc. And this will lead to more terrorism and possibly a vicious circle if this increased terrorism incites your country to allow even more torture. So much for the "exceptional" nature of torture in the TBA. 25 See David Miller, The Use and Abuse of Political Violence, in Political Studies, 32 (1984), 401. The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 14 3.6. Assumption 6: The Greater Good A utilitarian or consequentialist could argue that the preceding arguments against the TBA rest on the false assumption that it is acceptable to risk great loss of life for the sake of a principle or a philosophical argument, no matter how persuasive. Contrary to this, he or she might say that "lost lives hurt a lot more than bent principles".26 Torturing someone who has information on the whereabouts of a ticking bomb is clearly a lesser evil than allowing the bomb to go off. Proponents of the TBA reject what they call the moral absolutism or moral perfectionism of the deontologists rejecting any type of torture under any circumstances.27 Should we "let justice be done though the heavens fall", or rather minimize a certain type of injustice even if this requires accepting some minor act of injustice of another type? First of all, as I have shown in the previous paragraphs, it is not evident that the number of people that need to be tortured is much smaller than the possible victims of the ticking bomb. If the terrorist himself does not confess fast enough, how about torturing his family and children, or the people in his phone book? And if it is uncertain whether the captured terrorist holds vital information as will be the case in most real-life settings we may have to torture people in order to determine who knows what. Secondly, this greater good thinking puts the torturers on the same footing as the terrorists. The latter also assume that they fight for a greater good and that he harm they do is small compared to the benefits this harm will produce. The similarity between torturers and terrorists is all the more striking if the torturers have convinced themselves that it is necessary to torture innocents (see assumptions 2 and 3 above). Putting ourselves on the same level as terrorists means giving up our identity to save ourselves, which really is pointless. So this is the second time we find that torture destroys the torturer (see assumption 5 above). If we remodel the utilitarian calculus: the harm done by social and political self-degeneration and selfdestruction is probably greater than the suffering caused by exceptional terrorists attacks. So even the utilitarianism of the greater good doesn't justify torture. There's also the notion of "tainted goods": even if we don't lose ourselves through either the institutionalization of torture (assumption 5 above) or the equivalence with terrorists (assumption 6), the supposed "good" that we achieve through torture will be tainted by the methods necessary to achieve it.28 The notion, inherent in the TBA, that certain goods can be attainted by problematic means, is itself problematic. Suppose we successfully fight terrorism with torture and save our democratic 26 Mirko Bagaric, in The Age, May 17, 2005, http://www.theage.com.au/news/Opinion/A-case-fortorture/2005/05/16/1116095904947.html. 27 This deontologism is also reflected in the United Nations Convention Against Torture (see note 6 above) and in the writing of Waldron (note 5 above). 28 Jeremy Waldron (2010), Torture, Terror and Trade-offs: Philosophy for the White House, Oxford University Press The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 15 society (that means, we also successfully avoided self-degeneration). Many lives are saved and our way of being has been maintained. And yet, we may believe that our success has been tainted by the immoral methods used to achieve it, and we may not be willing to enjoy this success and the goods we have if they have been secured by way of torture. 4. Conclusion Upon reflection, the TBA seems to be no more than a thought experiment, good material for café discussions among philosophers but useless policy advice for officials having to deal with real cases. Nevertheless, the exceptional, improbable, or even hypothetical nature of the ticking bomb case does not make it irrelevant and is not a sufficient reason to dismiss it. Indeed, the TBA is often used to justify torture in general rather than the very specific kind of torture described in the TBA. When there is one case that can water down the absolute rule against torture even if it's an entirely theoretical case why should there not be other cases? "Even if the example I gave were entirely hypothetical, the conclusion yes, in this case even torture is permissible is telling because it establishes the principle: torture is not always impermissible".29 So even those who are convinced that the TBA is entirely fanciful need to address its errors in order to destroy the seeds of doubt which the TBA intends to sow. It seems to me that the dramatic force and moral clarity and simplicity of the TBA (undoubtedly the reasons for its popularity) can be used by those who are in favor of torture as a means to open the door and make some cracks in what is still, for many, a moral absolute (similar to the prohibition of slavery and genocide). Keeping the door firmly shut requires a critical engagement with the assumptions inherent in the TBA. The ticking bomb argument is intended to show that an absolute ban on torture is unwise and ultimately detrimental to the survival of a free society. Opponents of torture are labeled naive moral absolutists, locked up in ivory towers and unwilling to confront the darker sides of reality and isolated from the tough problems that people in the field have to deal with. By making it impossible to "deal" with these tough problems, absolutists endanger the nation. However, I have tried to show that the proponents of the TBA are the ones refusing to face reality. The moral absolutists aren't the ones who fail to protect freedom or who lack patriotism; those who want to allow torture in the ticking bomb case undermine their own goals because they endanger freedom and flirt with the destruction, not of terrorism, but of democracy. In fact, those who defend torture for the sake of combating terrorism are doing the work of the terrorists for them. 29 Charles Krauthammer (2005), The Truth about Torture, It's time to be honest about doing terrible things, in The Weekly Standard, Volume 011, Issue 12, http://www.weeklystandard.com/Content/Public/Articles/000/000/006/400rhqav.asp?pg=1. The Little Door to Hell Torture and the Ticking Bomb Argument | Filip Spagnoli Page | 16 References Allhoff, Fritz (2005), A Defense of Torture: Separation of Cases, Ticking Time-bombs and Moral Justification, in International Journal of Applied Philosophy, 19:2 Bobbitt, Philip (2008), Terror and Consent: The Wars for the 21st Century, Allen Lane, London Brecher, Bob (2007), Torture and the Ticking Bomb, Blackwell Publishing, Oxford Carter, Phillip (2004), The Road to Abu Ghraib, in Washington Monthly, November 2004 Defusing the Ticking Bomb Scenario, paper by the Association for the Prevention of Torture, (2007), http://www.apt.ch/content/view/109/lang,en/ Dershowitz, Alan (2002), Why Terrorism Works, Yale University Press, New Haven & London Evans, Rebecca (2007), The Ethics of Torture, in Human Rights & Human Welfare, Vol. 7 Krauthammer, Charles (2005), The Truth about Torture, It's time to be honest about doing terrible things, in The Weekly Standard, Volume 011, Issue 12, http://www.weeklystandard.com/Content/Public/Articles/000/000/006/400rhqav.asp?pg=1 Lamb, Antony (2008), Review of Brecher, Bob (2007), Torture and the Ticking Bomb, Blackwell Publishing, Oxford, in Philosophical Frontiers, Vol. 3, Issue 2 Luban, David (2005), Liberalism, Torture, and the Ticking Bomb, in Virginia Law Review, Vol. 91, http://www.virginialawreview.org/content/pdfs/91/1425.pdf Miller, David (1984), The Use and Abuse of Political Violence, in Political Studies, 32, 401 Slackman, Michael (2004), What's Wrong With Torturing A Qaeda Higher-Up?, in The New York Times, Sunday, May 16, 2004 Sung, Chanterelle, Torturing the Ticking Bomb Terrorist: An Analysis of Judicially Sanctioned Torture in the Context of Terrorism, http://bc.edu/schools/law/lawreviews/metaelements/journals/bctwj/23_1/05_TXT.htm Waldron, Jeremy (2011), What Are Moral Absolutes Like, Lecture presented at the Annual Lecture for the Harvard Philosophy Club, Cambridge, Massachusetts, April 2011, http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1906850 Waldron, Jeremy (2010), Torture, Terror and Trade-offs: Philosophy for the White House, Oxford University Press
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Paradoxuri cauzale în călătoria în timp Nicolae Sfetcu 02.05.2019 Sfetcu, Nicolae, "Paradoxuri cauzale în călătoria în timp", SetThings (2 mai 2019), MultiMedia Publishing (ed.), URL = https://www.setthings.com/ro/paradoxuri-cauzale-in-calatoria-in-timp/ Email: [email protected] Această carte este licențiată Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International. Pentru a vedea o copie a acestei licențe, vizitați http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/. Extras din: Sfetcu, Nicolae, " Buclele cauzale în călătoria în timp", SetThings (2 februarie 2018), MultiMedia Publishing (ed.), DOI: 10.13140/RG.2.2.21222.52802, ISBN 978-606-033-148-3, URL = https://www.setthings.com/ro/e-books/buclele-cauzale-calatoria-timp/ Paradoxuri cauzale în călătoria în timp Există, printre unii oameni de știință și filosofi, ideea că orice teorie care ar permite călătoria în timp ar introduce probleme de cauzalitate. (Bolonkin 2011) Aceste tipuri de paradoxuri temporale pot fi evitate prin principiul de consecvență Novikov sau printr-o variație a interpretării multor lumi cu lumi care interacționează. (Everett 2004) Argumentul clasic împotriva cauzalității înapoi este argumentul bilking (Horwich 1987) Dacă un eveniment A provoacă un eveniment anterior B, bilking recomandă o încercare de a decorela A și B, adică de a aduce A în cazurile în care B nu a avut loc și de a preveni A în cazurile în care a avut loc B. O buclă cauzală este o secvență de evenimente (acțiuni, informații, obiecte, oameni) (Lobo and Crawford 2002) în care un eveniment A determină un alt eveniment B, care determină primul eveniment A. (Rea 2014) La astfel de evenimente în spațiu-timp originea lor nu poate fi determinată. (Lobo and Crawford 2002) Evenimentele care formează o buclă nu trebuie să fie cauze complete ale fiecăruia, nici efectele complete ale altuia. Într-o buclă de cauzalitate pot exista cauza sau evenimente externe secundare. Dacă nu există astfel de cauze sau evenimente se spune că bucla este izolată cauzal. Causalitatea înapoi presupune un viitor închis ontologic o poziție metafizică despre timp denumită de obicei eternalism, o formă specifică de non-prezentism. (Faye 2001) Călătoriile înapoi în timp determină bucle de cauzalitate? Hanley (Hanley 2004) afirmă că poate exista o călătorie înapoi în timp și o cauzalitate inversă fără a exista bucle cauzale. (Hawking 1992) Monton (Monton 2009) critică exemplul lui Hanley dar este de acord cu afirmația acestuia. Lumea în care trăim are, conform lui David Lewis, o ontologie parmenideană: "o varietate topologică a evenimentelor în patru dimensiuni", iar ocupanții lumii sunt agregații patrudimensionali ai etapelor - "linii temporale". (Lewis 1976, 145) Cu toate acestea, călătorul în timp nu este ca alte agregate; "Dacă călătorește spre trecut este o linie în zig-zag". (Lewis 1976, 146) S-ar putea să fie, de asemenea, linii întinse care sunt călătorii în viitor. Această lume parmenideană a etapelor temporale îndepărtează imediat obiecția "nicio destinație" față de călătoria în timp. Geometria patru-dimensională oferă mijloacele de înregistrare a transportului călătorului în timp. Mulți consideră că buclele de cauzalitate nu sunt imposibile sau inacceptabile, ci doar inexplicabile. Au existat două tipuri principale de răspuns la această obiecție. Lewis (Lewis 1976) acceptă că o buclă (în ansamblu) ar fi inexplicabilă, precum Big Bang sau dezintegrarea unui atom de tritiu, dar ea este doar ciudată, nu imposibilă. Similar, Meyer (Meyer 2012) susține că, dacă cineva cere o explicație a unei bucle (în ansamblu), "vina ar cădea asupra persoanei care a pus întrebarea, nu asupra incapacității noastre de a răspunde." Un alt răspuns, al lui Hanley (Hanley 2004) este de a nega că (toate) buclele de cauzalitate sunt inexplicabile. Mellor (Mellor 1998) consideră că în astfel de bucle șansele de evenimente nu vor fi legate de frecvențele lor, în conformitate cu legea numărului mare. Berkovitz (Berkovitz 2001) și Dowe (Dowe 2001) susțin că Mellor nu reușește să stabilească imposibilitatea buclelor de cauzalitate. Buclele cauzale la călătoria înapoi în timp implică evenimente care par să "vină de nicăieri", (Smith 2016) obiecte sau informații "auto-existente" paradoxale, rezultând un paradox de bootstrap, (Toomey 2007) (un călător de timp care fură o mașină de timp de la muzeul local pentru a face o călătorie în timp și apoi dă mașina de timp aceluiași muzeu la sfârșitul călătoriei (adică în trecut) . În acest caz, mașina în sine nu este niciodată construită de nimeni pur și simplu există) (Smith 2016) un paradox informativ, (Everett and Roman 2012) (Everett dă un exemplu de paradox informativ: "un călător de timp copiază o demonstrație matematică dintr-un manual, apoi călătorește înapoi în timp pentru a se întâlni cu matematicianul care a publicat prima demonstrație, la o dată înainte de publicare, matematicianul să copieze pur și simplu demonstrația. În acest caz, informațiile din demonstrație nu au nicio origine.") (Everett and Roman 2012) sau un paradox ontologic. (Smeenk and Wüthrich 2011) Kelley L. Ross (Ross 2016) dă exemplul unui obiect fizic a cărui linie a universului sau istorie formează o buclă închisă în timp, unde poate exista o încălcare a celei de-a doua legi a termodinamicii: se acordă un ceas unei persoane, iar 60 de ani mai târziu același ceas este adus înapoi în timp și dat aceluiași personaj. Ross afirmă că entropia ceasului va crește, iar ceasul transmis în timp înapoi va fi mai uzat cu fiecare repetare a istoriei sale. Andrei Lossev și Igor Novikov au numit astfel de obiecte fără origine Jinn, cu termenul singular Jinnee. (Popper 1985) Un obiect care face trecerea circulară prin timp trebuie să fie identic ori de câte ori este readus în trecut, altfel ar crea o inconsecvență. Krasnikov scrie că aceste paradoxuri implică întotdeauna un sistem fizic care evoluează într-o etapă într-un mod care nu este guvernat de legile sale. El nu găsește acest lucru paradoxal și atribuie problemele privind validitatea călătoriei în timp către altor factori în interpretarea relativității generale (Krasnikov 2002) Relativitatea generală permite unele soluții care descriu universuri care conțin curbe închise în timp, sau linii de univers care duc la același punct în spațiu. (Gödel 1949) Igor Dmitriyevich Novikov a afirmat despre posibilitatea curbelor temporale închise (CTC) că numai călătoriile cu auto-reglementare înapoi ar fi permise. (Novikov 1983) El a sugerat principiul autoconsistenței, care spune că singurele soluții la legile fizicii care pot apărea local în Universul real sunt acelea care sunt auto-consistente la nivel global. Opiniile lui Novikov nu sunt acceptate pe scară largă. Visser vede buclele cauzale și principiul de auto-consistență al lui Novikov ca o soluție ad-hoc și presupune că există implicații mult mai dăunătoare ale călătoriei în timp. (Nahin 1999) Krasnikov nu găsește nicio vină inerentă în buclele de cauzalitate, dar găsește și alte probleme cu călătoria în timp în relativitatea generală. (Krasnikov 2002) Ulrich Meyer afirmă că "a spune că buclele de cauzalitate sunt misterioase înseamnă a spune că sunt întotdeauna inexplicabile și nu cred că este corect. Buclele de cauzalitate pot admite toate explicațiile pe care le-ar putea cere în mod rezonabil." (Meyer 2012) A cere ca toate evenimentele, inclusiv cele din buclele de cauzalitate, să fie explicabile, înseamnă a susține principiul rațiunii suficiente al lui Leibnitz (PRS),1 dar există modalități diferite de înțelegere a acestui principiu, precum citirea PRS ca principiu de cauzalitate: (Meyer 2012) O versiune ar fi că Fiecare eveniment are o cauză suficientă, PRS1 (Schlesinger 1995) ceea ce implică inferențe la cea mai bună explicație. Această versiune conduce deseori la lanțuri infinit de descendente de evenimente în care fiecare eveniment este cauzat de cel precedent, ad infinitum (precum modelele standard de mecanică clasică, în care toate evenimentele de la un moment dat sunt cauzate de evenimentele de la un moment anterior, care, la rândul lor, sunt cauzate de evenimente la un moment anterior, și așa mai departe), (Meyer 2012) valabil și pentru buclele de cauzalitate. PRS1 necesită ca fiecare eveniment să aibă o explicație cauzală, nu ca lanțul de explicații să se termine undeva. Dar PRS1 nu este chiar ceea ce Leibniz a avut în minte atunci când a elaborat principiul rațiunii suficiente, în De rerum originatione radicali (1697): "Să ne imaginăm că cartea despre Elementele geometriei a fost veșnică, o copie întotdeauna fiind făcută de la altul; atunci este clar că, deși putem da un motiv pentru care această carte este bazată pe cartea precedentă din care a fost copiată, nu putem ajunge niciodată la un motiv complet, indiferent câte cărți am putea să presupunem în trecut, pentru că cineva se poate întotdeauna să se întrebe de ce ar fi trebuit să existe astfel de cărți în orice moment; de ce ar trebui să existe cărți pur și simplu, și de ce ar trebui să fie scrise în acest fel. Ceea ce este adevărat despre cărți este valabil și pentru diferitele stare a lumii; fiecare stare ulterioară este oarecum copiată din cea precedentă (deși conform anumitor legi ale schimbării). Indiferent cât de departe am ajuns înapoi în stările anterioare, nu vom descoperi niciodată în ele un motiv complet pentru care ar trebui să existe o lume, și de ce ar trebui să fie așa cum este." (Leibniz 1956) Prin însăși natura sa, un motiv complet nu ar putea fi un motiv cauzal și, prin urmare, ar depăși ceea ce este în discuție în PRS1. A doua interpretare a principiului este: Există un motiv suficient pentru care întreaga lume este așa cum este (PRS2): "Am putea să explicăm existența unei mașini de timp la t1 în termenii existenței unei mașini de timp la t2, dar acest lucru nu pare să explice de ce există o mașină a timpului. Dar dacă 1 Principiul rațiunii suficiente afirmă că totul trebuie să aibă o rațiune, o cauză sau un motiv.(Rescher 1991) luăm serios această îngrijorare, ar trebui să ne îngrijorăm, de exemplu, de ce există electroni. Putem explica cu ușurință aceasta cauzal, în termenii legilor naturii și faptul că au existat electroni acum 5 minute. Dar atunci se ridică întrebarea de ce au existat acești electroni anteriori și așa am ajunge repede într-o regresie infinită a explicațiilor cauzale care nu reușesc niciodată să dea un motiv complet pentru motivul pentru care există vreun electron." (Meyer 2012) PRS2 are consecința incontestabilă de a exclude adevărurile contingente, rezultând că PRS2 "este fals și că cererile de explicații complete sunt greșite." (Meyer 2012) Rezultă că dacă legile naturii cooperează, atunci evenimentele care formează o buclă pot fi explicate cauzal. A cere o explicație mai detaliată sau "completă" a buclei cauzale este a cere ceva care este imposibil. "În acest caz, vina ar cădea asupra persoanei care a pus întrebarea, nu asupra incapacității noastre de a răspunde." (Meyer 2012) Prioritatea cauzală (anumite secvențe ale evenimentelor conexe) poate fi diferită de prioritatea temporală (totalitatea evenimentelor). Dacă cauza a fost mai târziu decât efectul, atunci cauza ar trebui să fie de neoprit. Dar, în general, suntem capabili să intervenim în lume pentru a provoca sau pentru a preveni întâmplările contingente. Dacă cauza unui eveniment este localizată în viitor, atunci astfel de intervenții sunt supuse unor constrângeri clare, iar în unele cazuri se va dovedi imposibilă. (Grey 1999) Simon Keller și Michael Nelson (Keller and Nelson 2010) afirmă că nu există nici o premisă cu caracter specific preferențial implicată în nici un argument, astfel încât nu se ridică o problemă specială pentru călătoriile în timp din punctul de vedere al presentismului. Wheeler și Feynman (Wheeler and Feynman 1949) au fost primii care au susținut că faptul că natura este continuă nu implică paradoxuri cauzale. Bibliografie Berkovitz, J. 2001. "On Chance in Causal Loops." Mind 110 (437): 1–23. Bolonkin, Alexander. 2011. Universe, Human Immortality and Future Human Evaluation. Elsevier. Dowe, Phil. 2001. "Causal Loops and the Independence of Causal Facts." Philosophy of Science 68 (S3): S89–97. https://doi.org/10.1086/392900. Everett, Allen. 2004. "Time Travel Paradoxes, Path Integrals, and the Many Worlds Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics." Physical Review D: Particles and Fields 69 (October). https://doi.org/10.1103/PhysRevD.69.124023. Everett, Allen, and Thomas Roman. 2012. Time Travel and Warp Drives. http://www.press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/T/bo8447256.html. Faye, Jan. 2001. "Backward Causation," August. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2017/entries/causation-backwards/. Gödel, Kurt. 1949. "An Example of a New Type of Cosmological Solutions of Einstein's Field Equations of Gravitation." Reviews of Modern Physics 21 (3): 447–50. https://doi.org/10.1103/RevModPhys.21.447. Grey, William. 1999. "Troubles with Time Travel." Philosophy 74 (287): 55–70. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3752093. Hanley, Richard. 2004. "No End in Sight: Causal Loops in Philosophy, Physics and Fiction." Synthese 141 (1): 123–52. https://doi.org/10.1023/B:SYNT.0000035847.28833.4f. Hawking, S. W. 1992. "Chronology Protection Conjecture." Physical Review D 46 (2): 603–11. https://doi.org/10.1103/PhysRevD.46.603. Horwich, Paul. 1987. "Asymmetries in Time: Problems in the Philosophy of Science." MIT Press. 1987. https://mitpress.mit.edu/books/asymmetries-time. Keller, S, and M Nelson. 2010. "Presentists Should Believe in Time-Travel." Australasian Journal of Philosophy September 1 (April): 333–45. https://doi.org/10.1080/713931204. Krasnikov, S. 2002. "Time Travel Paradox." Physical Review D 65 (6): 064013. https://doi.org/10.1103/PhysRevD.65.064013. Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm Freiherr von. 1956. Philosophical Papers and Letters. University of Chicago Press. Lewis, David. 1976. "The Paradoxes of Time Travel." American Philosophical Quarterly 13 (2): 145–52. http://www.jstor.org/stable/20009616. Lobo, Francisco, and Paulo Crawford. 2002. "Time, Closed Timelike Curves and Causality." NATO Science Series II 95 (July): 289–96. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-94-010-01557_30. Mellor, D. H. 1998. Real Time Ii. Routledge. Meyer, Ulrich. 2012. "Explaining Causal Loops." Analysis 72 (2): 259–64. https://doi.org/10.1093/analys/ans045. Monton, Bradley. 2009. "Time Travel without Causal Loops." The Philosophical Quarterly (1950-) 59 (234): 54–67. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40208578. Nahin, Paul J. 1999. Time Machines: Time Travel in Physics, Metaphysics, and Science Fiction. //www.springer.com/gp/book/9780387985718. Novikov, Igor D. 1983. Evolution of the Universe. 1St Edition edition. Cambridge ; New York: Cambridge University Press. Popper, Karl. 1985. "Unended Quest: An Intellectual Autobiography." 1985. https://www.goodreads.com/work/best_book/494526-unended-quest. Rea, Michael. 2014. Metaphysics: The Basics. Routledge. Rescher, Nicholas. 1991. G.W. Leibniz's Monadology: An Edition for Students. University of Pittsburgh Press. Ross, Kelley L. 2016. "Time Travel Paradoxes." 2016. http://www.friesian.com/paradox.htm. Schlesinger, George N. 1995. "A Pragmatic Version of the Principle of Sufficient Reason." The Philosophical Quarterly (1950-) 45 (181): 439–59. https://doi.org/10.2307/2220308. Smeenk, Chris, and Christian Wüthrich. 2011. "Time Travel and Time Machines," April. https://doi.org/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199298204.003.0021. Smith, Nicholas J.J. 2016. "Time Travel." In The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, edited by Edward N. Zalta, Spring 2016. Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2016/entriesime-travel/. Toomey, David. 2007. The New Time Travelers: A Journey to the Frontiers of Physics. New York: W. W. Norton & Company. Wheeler, John Archibald, and Richard Phillips Feynman. 1949. "Classical Electrodynamics in Terms of Direct Interparticle Action." Reviews of Modern Physics 21 (3): 425–33. https://doi.org/10.1103/RevModPhys.21.425.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
The Review of Metaphysics 71 (2018): 723-53. 'Rational Animal' in Heidegger and Aquinas By Chad Engelland University of Dallas [[email protected]] Abstract: Martin Heidegger rejects the traditional definition of the human being as the "rational animal" in part because he thinks it fits us into a genus that obscures our difference in kind. Thomas Aquinas shares with Heidegger the concern about the human difference, and yet he appropriates the definition, "rational animal" by conceiving animality in terms of the specifically human power of understanding being. Humans are not just distinct in their openness to being, but, thanks to that openness, they are distinct in their animality, a distinction that changes the very significance of animality itself. Heidegger also thinks the traditional definition closes us to the experience of our essence, but again Aquinas has resources for bringing out the experiential character of rational animality. Aquinas' inclusion of animation has significance for what Heidegger calls fundamental ontology; by virtue of the human animate body, particular beings can be pointed out and designated as such. "In the middle ages and in Greek philosophy, the whole man was still seen; the apprehension of inner psychic life, what we now so readily call consciousness, was enacted in a natural experience which was not regarded as an inner perception and so set off from an outer one." -Martin Heidegger 1 Martin Heidegger rejects the traditional definition of the human being as the rational animal. He thinks it fits us into a genus that obscures our difference in kind. More pointedly, he thinks that obscuring openness to being as distinctively human closes us to the difference between entities and their being. Hence the failure to understand the human is also and more importantly a failure to understand being. Some thinkers have criticized Heidegger's rejection of the traditional definition. Hans Jonas thinks the rejection makes the human a stranger in the 1 Prolegomena zur Geschichte des Zeitbegriffs, GA 20, ed. Petra Jaeger (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1979); History of the Concept of Time: Prolegomena, trans. Theodore Kisiel (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985), 15-16/15. Translation modified. I will cite Heidegger by providing German followed by English pagination: G/E. 2 cosmos, and Alasdair MacIntyre thinks the rejection leaves virtue without a home in human nature. 2 Elsewhere I have defended Heidegger's belief that humans do in fact differ in kind from animals. 3 One puzzle, given this difference in kind, is how to construe the undeniable kinship of the human and the animal. And it is here that I think that Heidegger's rejection of the traditional definition of the human as the rational animal becomes problematical. For though we differ in kind from other animals, we remain yet an animal, and our animality is not foreign to our openness to being. In this paper, I aim to solve the theoretical problems that led Heidegger to this position and to show how their solution proves fruitful for Heidegger's question concerning the meaning of being. Thomas Aquinas shares many of Heidegger's concerns regarding human uniqueness and yet makes his own the traditional definition of the human being as the rational animal. He does this by reconfiguring animality in view of the specifically human power of understanding being. At the same time, Aquinas does not make explicit the role of the animate body in making metaphysics possible; he does not develop the problematic that Heidegger calls "fundamental ontology." He does not lay bare the condition for the possibility of ontology in terms of the openness of the human and the temporality or truth of being. He also does not adequately consider the methodological difficulties involved in targeting the person as such, an issue that Heidegger engages more penetratingly. The encounter with Heidegger brings out the latent riches of Aquinas's approach to human nature for a task, fundamental ontology, not explicitly undertaken by Aquinas. 2 Hans Jonas, The Phenomenon of Life: Toward a Philosophical Biology (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1966), 225-226. Alasdair MacIntyre, Dependent Rational Animals: Why Human Beings Need the Virtues (Chicago: Open Court, 1999), 43-51. 3 "Heidegger and the Human Difference," Journal of the American Philosophical Association 1 (2015): 175-193. 3 My project is to remedy the shortcomings of both Heidegger and Aquinas by bringing them into a constructive dialogue concerning the nature of the human being and its place in fundamental ontology. While saving the definition may have wider application, such as situating ethics within a cosmic setting, I think saving animality is crucial for Heidegger's project of fundamental ontology. If animality is included in the unified openness to being that is the human, then animation plays a constitutive role in our understanding of being. Thanks to our animate bodies, we can point things out in their radical particularity as this something. The paper has four parts. In the first, I lay out Heidegger's assorted reasons for finding the traditional definition problematical. In the second, I introduce Aquinas's strategies for addressing at least some of the worries Heidegger has. Then, in the third, I get to the heart of the issue by examining Heidegger's phenomenological rather than metaphysical approach to being human, an approach that finds a perhaps unlikely ally in some of Aquinas's own remarks on the life lived by the embodied human intellectual soul. Finally, I argue that Aquinas's inclusion of animation and Heidegger's exclusion of animation affect the project of fundamental ontology: for Aquinas, our animate bodies have significance in allowing us to target the particularity of what is; for Heidegger, lacking such an emphasis, that particularity proves to be elusive. I argue that the difference between Heidegger and Aquinas concerning the status of the definition, "rational animal," is not merely semantic; it rather expresses something essential for the experience of what we are and of what is. I Heidegger's Case against "Rational Animal." Heidegger has six or so worries concerning the definition rational animal. (1) The first concerns the inadequacy of a definition 4 for arriving at the way of being characteristic of the human being. Specifically, he thinks that a definition is by nature restricted to "outward appearance" (Aussehen). In 1925, he writes, "We place ourselves in principle outside of this experiential and interrogative horizon outlined by the definition of the most customary name for this entity, man: homo animal rationale. What is to be determined is not an outward appearance of this entity but from the outset and throughout solely its way to be, not the what of that of which it is composed but the how of its being and the characters of this how." 4 Earlier in the same course, however, Heidegger gave a more generous reading of the traditional approach to the human being: "In the middle ages and in Greek philosophy, the whole man was still seen; inner psychic life, what we now so readily call consciousness, was apprehended in a natural experience which was not regarded as an inner perception and so set off from an outer one." 5 His assessment is therefore ambiguous: Do the ancients and medievals restrict themselves to outward appearance in defining the human or do they, in contrast to the moderns, have a sense of the whole human being? This turns out to be the central question, which I will return to below. (2) The second problem Heidegger has with the traditional definition is that rationality is an inadequate translation of logos. According to his reading of philosophy, logos comes from the experience of the being of entities thanks to the power that was traditionally termed intellect or understanding. Though logos originally meant speaking, a specific kind of speaking, assertion, came to dominate reflection on logos and consequently to determine the human as the animal that makes judgements and reasons from them. 6 This objection, however, does not 4 Prolegomena, 207/154. 5 Prolegomena, 15-16/15. 6 Sein und Zeit, 18th ed. (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 2001); Being and Time, trans. John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1962), 165/208-209. See also Grundfragen der Philosophie: Ausgewählte 'Probleme' der 'Logik,' GA 45, ed. Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1984); Basic Questions of Philosophy: Selected 'Problems' of 'Logic,' trans. Richard Rojcewicz and André Schuwer (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1994), 140-141/121-122. 5 appear intractable, for it means only that the specific difference is not understood amply enough. It suggests that we can save the definition by either changing the formal indication of the specific difference to "understanding" or by stipulating that when we say "rational" we intend an openness to being more aptly indicated by the term "language" or "word." As he translates it in one place, "the human being is the living entity to whom the word belongs." 7 Yes, Heidegger does excoriate the tradition of ratio as negligent concerning ontological openness, but he follows the tradition in thinking there is a human difference. Thus, for Heidegger the fatal flaw of the definition, "rational animal," is not the invocation of a difference, although he is vexed concerning the traditional characterization of this difference. (3) A more pressing set of objections to the definition "rational animal" comes from the designation of a genus, animality, to which the human is said to belong. In the first place, Heidegger thinks that, insofar as animality is approached through contemporary biology and this inquiry is conceived as a purely ontic inquiry into the push and pull of mechanical causality, there is no way to relate animality to the human openness to being. In Being and Time he writes, "'Man' is here defined as a , and this is Interpreted to mean an animal rationale, something living which has reason. But the kind of Being which belongs to a is understood in the sense of occurring and Being-present-at-hand." 8 But again, this is a trivial objection, for no traditional proponent of the definition regarded animality as merely a substance with properties. Rather the proponents of the traditional definition regarded the soul as the principle of animation, which also opens up the animal to an environment of action and 7 "Vom Wesen und Begriff der . Aristoteles, Physik B, 1," in Wegmarken, GA 9, ed. FriedrichWilhelm von Herrmann (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1976); "On the Essence and Concept of in Aristotle's Physics B, 1," trans. Thomas Sheehan," in Pathmarks, ed. William McNeill (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 278/212. Aquinas, too, regards speech as "reason's proper work." Summa Theologiae, I, q. 91, a. 3, ad 3. 8 Sein und Zeit, 48/74. See also Grundfragen der Philosophie, 140-141/121-122. 6 perception. Nor is there any necessity for us to interpret animality as present-at-hand today; Evan Thompson and Maxine Sheets-Johnstone articulate a conception of animation consonant with contemporary science and nonetheless consistent with classical sensibilities. 9 And Heidegger himself tells us, "Life is not a mere Being-present-at-hand, nor is it Dasein." 10 In Fundamental Concepts of Metaphysics, Heidegger develops this suggestion in a way relevant to our question concerning the rational animal. Heidegger says that while a stone is worldless and Dasein is world-forming, an animal is poor in world. "We shall begin our comparative analysis by starting from the middle, that is, by asking what it means to say that the animal is poor in world." 11 Why should we begin with the middle? After all, is that not what the definition, "rational animal," does? The middle allows us to keep the whole spectrum in view: "Thus we shall also constantly be looking to two sides at once, both toward the worldlessness of the stone and toward the world-forming of man, and from there in turn back toward the animal and its poverty in world." Animal world-poverty functions analogous to the role of the ready-tohand in Being and Time; that is, it stands in between the present-at-hand and Dasein, and its difference from the merely present-at-hand helps illumine the world that arises properly with Dasein. For the animal, the disinhibiting ring of drives that lock the animal into its environment both anticipates and falls short of the openness to world that defines Dasein: "An animal can only behave [sich ... benehmen] but can never apprehend [vernehmen] something as something-which is not to deny that the animal sees or even perceives. Yet in a fundamental 9 Evan Thompson, Mind in Life: Biology, Phenomenology, and the Sciences of Mind (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2007); Maxine Sheets-Johnstone, The Primacy of Movement, 2d ed. (Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 2011). 10 Sein und Zeit, 50/75. 11 Die Grundbegriffe der Metaphysik. Welt-Endlichket-Einsamkeit, GA 29/30, ed. Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1983); The Fundamental Concepts of Metaphysics, trans. William McNeill and Nicholas Walker (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1995), 274/185. 7 sense the animal does not have perception [Wahrnehmung]." 12 The items to which the animal relates in its behavior (he gives the example of a lizard on a stone) are beings only for Dasein, not for the animals themselves: "From the perspective of the animal we should never take these other things as beings, though for us it is only possible to approach such things by way of naming through language." 13 The animal does not have access to itself or to its items of interest as beings, but they themselves and their items of interest can show up for us, as Dasein, in no other way than as beings. Hence, world in some way includes animal and environment while animal and environment does not include world. What we can take from this text, for our question, is twofold: Heidegger does indeed think Dasein can transpose itself into the life of animals, and Dasein can do so because in some sense world includes the environment of animals, including it in such a way that its meaning becomes transfigured by the inclusion. To regard Dasein as in some sense an animal would not mean that Dasein is to be assimilated to the present-at-hand. Therefore, this objection to the traditional definition is insubstantial. (4) A more significant objection concerns the idea of including the human within a genus at all. The problem with doing so, Heidegger thinks, is that what is specifically human appears to be layered atop something that is generically living. In Being and Time, he writes: Life, in its own right, is a kind of Being; but essentially it is accessible only in Dasein. The ontology of life is accomplished by way of a privative Interpretation; it determines what must be the case if there can be anything like mere-aliveness [Nur-noch-leben]. Life is not a mere Being-present-at-hand, nor is it Dasein. In turn, Dasein is never to be defined ontologically by regarding it as life (in an ontologically indefinite manner) plus something else. 14 Despite this suggestion that designating a genus undermines the unity of Dasein, the passage does open the possibility of achieving a unified conception of Dasein as that living entity open to 12 Die Grundbegriffe der Metaphysik, 376/259. 13 Die Grundbegriffe der Metaphysik, 376/259. 14 Sein und Zeit, 50/75. 8 being, provided that life is ontologically clarified, that openness to being is seen as somehow seamlessly integrated with this ontologically clarified life, and that the unified ontologically open living entity called Dasein could be ontologically investigated as such. For the question arises, how can life be accessible in Dasein unless Dasein is in some sense alive? Despite expressing an unambiguous aversion to defining Dasein, Heidegger cannot escape the necessity of characterizing the human in terms of genus and specific difference: "Dasein is ontically distinctive in that it is ontologically." 15 In the "genus" of entities, we are the only ones that are open to being. Openness to being, then, can count as our specific difference. The genus entity seems even more dangerous than the genus animal, for an entity, as opposed to an animal, could very well be something present-at-hand; nonetheless, Heidegger proposes it all the same, and he does so all the while maintaining that Dasein has a consistent tendency to misunderstand itself in terms of what it is not, present-at-hand entities. Heidegger later comes to think the definition is even more dangerous, and this for two reasons. (5) It does not clearly confront the metaphysical tradition that regards world-openness as the quality of an entity instead of something that happens to and through an entity, the happening of which is not itself entitative: "History of this question concerning entities is the history of metaphysics, history of the thinking that thinks being as the being of an entity from out of and unto an entity." 16 (6) Heidegger comes to emphasize more and more the changing complexion of our relatedness to being instead of the ahistorical treatment of relation characteristic of metaphysics. But despite these worries about entitativeness and history, the 15 Sein und Zeit, 12/32. 16 Beiträge zur Philosophie (Vom Ereignis), GA 65, ed. Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1989); Contributions to Philosophy (From Enowning), trans. Parvis Emad and Kenneth Maly (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999), 425/300. 9 later Heidegger simply cannot avoid presenting the uniqueness of our historical relatedness in terms of a genus-species definition involving an entity: In the history of beyng, humans in their essence are addressed for the sake of a reply to this claim in the mode of the truth of beyng. This distinctiveness of the human being, to be the historical entity that alone encounters entities out of the preservation (care for the clearing) of beyng in the consigning, without becoming an object of representation, nevertheless excludes every anthropomorphism. Nor can this distinctiveness-the nobility of the indigence of steadfastness in Da-seyn-ever be understood in terms of metaphysics. 17 Among entities, humans alone are historical due to their dynamic relatedness to the being of entities. If Heidegger does not think that regarding Dasein as generically an entity is inherently dangerous, why should he think that regarding Dasein as generically an animal is inherently dangerous? Animals are entities, after all, and, unlike entities in general, animals are quite obviously not present-at-hand things in the world. Heidegger might rightly worry concerning the ultimate adequacy of definition in terms of genus and species; nonetheless it is unavoidable in indicating the unique calling of being human. In sum, Heidegger has a bundle of worries about the definition rational animal, some trivial and others substantial: first, he is concerned that the definition may only target the "outward look" of the human; second, the term, "rational," is a dim shadow of our authentic relatedness to being; third, animality is somehow supposed to be regarded wrongly as present-athand; fourth, any genus-species approach appears to layer a difference atop generic sameness; fifth, the definition, as an operation of metaphysics, represents openness to being as a function of an entity; sixth, the definition, as an operation of metaphysics, fails to heed the changing relatedness of the human and being through history. Of these given worries, some I have suggested are more problematical than others. Heidegger acknowledges that ancient and 17 Das Ereignis, GA 71, ed. Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2009); The Event, trans. Richard Rojcewicz (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2013), 191/163, trans. modified. 10 medieval thought experienced the whole person, inner and outer. While rationality may not be the most apt expression of our difference, there is no objection to regarding that difference in terms of understanding being. Heidegger acknowledges that living beings are not present-athand, and he thinks that life (and presumably animality) is accessible through Dasein, suggesting that Dasein has an intrinsic connection to life and animality. The more serious objections to the definition concern the set of issues having to do with definition itself and the designation of a genus and species. Does a genus-species approach require thinking of the human being as something specific layered atop something generic? If so, Heidegger should avoid his formulations, early and late, that suggest that humans are distinctive in relation to all other entities thanks to their historical care for being. Heidegger has good reason to define the human again and again, for one cannot introduce a distinction without the backdrop of an identity; one cannot articulate difference without a corresponding sameness. Can we address the remaining worries? Is there a way to construe the relation of genus and species that will not destroy the unity of the phenomenon? Does a metaphysical approach to the rational animal represent being as a function of entities? Does it fail to mind the historical relatedness of humans and being? II Aquinas' Way to Save "Rational Animal." For the medieval mind, "animality" enjoys a wider semantic field than it does for Heidegger. For instance, one definition that Augustine discusses defines the human as the mortal, rational animal. The genus is living beings; humans are differentiated from beasts through reason and from divine beings through mortality. 18 Aquinas likewise sees the human on the verge of two genera: of animal and of created intelligences. He thinks the inclusion of the human person in the genus animality transfigures 18 de ordine 2.31: Civitate dei 9.13, De Trinitate 15.11. 11 the meaning of animality. The human does not add rationality to animality from the outside, as it were, so that the human being is animal plus something specifically different. Rather, animality can only serve as the genus for human beings insofar as the possibility of rationality is already included within it. Thus, for Aquinas, regarding the human as the rational animal does not lower the human to the animal; it elevates the animal by recognizing the human as a genuine possibility of being an animal. In On Being and Essence Aquinas writes that the genus animalia includes everything essential to every species to be found within it. Animalia "signifies a thing whose form can be the source of sensation and movement, no matter what that form may be, whether it be only a sensitive soul or a soul that is both sensitive and rational." 19 Indeed, he maintains that if animality did not include rationality, it could not be applied to the human being: "...whatever is in the species is also in the genus but in an undetermined way. If indeed 'animal' were not wholly what 'man' is, but only a part of him, 'animal' could not be predicated of 'man', since no integral part may be predicated of its whole." 20 Hence, the relation of genus to specific difference, animality to rationality, is not a distinction between two composite parts; rather it is a relation between two different ways of articulating the whole: "A genus is not matter, but it is taken from matter as designating the whole; and a difference is not form, but it is taken from form as designating the whole. That is why we say that man is a rational animal, and not that he is composed of animal and rational, as we say that he is composed of soul and body." 21 In Summa Contra Gentiles, Aquinas emphasizes that the genus animality does not compromise human uniqueness, because it anticipates the essential difference between the nonrational and the rational: 19 On Being and Essence, 2d ed., trans. Armand Maurer (Toronto: PIMS, 1968), chp. 2, n. 7. 20 On Being and Essence, c. 2, n. 5. 21 On Being and Essence, c. 2, n. 9. 12 What is more, when things come together by something common to them, they must, if they are to be distinguished, be distinguished by differences which belong per se and not accidentally to that common thing. Thus, man and horse meet in animal, and are distinguished from one another not by black and white, which are related accidentally to animal, but by rational and irrational, which are per se pertinent to animal. This is because animal is what has soul [animam], and this must be distinguished by having this or that kind of soul-say, rational or irrational. 22 Having understood animality to include a radical per se difference, Aquinas can define the human as rational animal without sacrificing the radicality of its openness to being. A principle Aquinas invokes regarding the marvelousness of the Incarnation is applicable here: "that which is greatest in any genus seems to be the cause of the others." 23 The human being, which is the greatest in the genus of animality, is in some sense that toward which all other animals are ordered as to their fulfillment. In comparison to the surplus of the rational soul by which it exceeds the sensitive soul, the latter appears imperfect. 24 Thus, for Aquinas we should understand animality in terms of being human rather than understand being human in terms of animality. In addition to widening animality to include rationality, Aquinas deploys a second strategy later in On Being and Essence. He places the human within a second genus, that of created spirits: "The human soul ... holds the lowest place among intellectual substances." 25 Like angels, the human is an intellective being with its own per se act of being. Unlike angels, the human's act of being is communicated to an essence that includes animality. Hence, the human is not only the rational animal; the human is the animate intellect. In Summa Contra 22 Summa Contra Gentiles, Book IV: Salvation, trans. Charles O'Neil (Garden City, NY: Hanover House, 1957), c. 24, n. 9. 23 "For nothing can be thought of which is more marvelous than this divine accomplishment: that the true God, the Son of God, should become true man. And because among them all it is most marvelous, it follows that toward faith in this particular marvel all other miracles are ordered, since 'that which is greatest in any genus seems to be the cause of the others.'" (Summa Contra Gentiles, IV, c. 27, n. 1). 24 Summa Theologiae, I, q. 76, a. 3, ad 4. 25 On Being and Essence, c. 4, n. 10. 13 Gentiles, Aquinas sees the human being unite two genera in the unity of its one substance: intellective substance and bodily substance. We have, therefore, to consider the existence of something supreme in the genus of bodies, namely, the human body harmoniously tempered, which is in contact with the lowest of the higher genus, namely, the human soul, which holds the lowest rank in the genus of intellectual substances, as can be seen from its mode of understanding; so that the intellectual soul is said to be on the horizon and confines of things corporeal and incorporeal, in that it is an incorporeal substance and yet the form of a body. Nor is a thing composed of an intellectual substance and corporeal matter less one than a thing made up of the form of fire and its matter, but perhaps it is more one; because the greater the mastery of form over matter, the greater is the unity of that which is made from it and matter. 26 Aquinas regards this overlapping of two genera to be typical of what he calls "the marvelous connection of things": "For it is always found that the lowest in the higher genus touches the highest of the lower species. Some of the lowest members of the animal kingdom, for instance, enjoy a form of life scarcely superior to that of plants; oysters, which are motionless, have only the sense of touch and are fixed to the earth like plants." 27 Aquinas does refrain from defining the human as animate intellect on experiential grounds; we are the only species of intellects that we can perceive; we cannot know the species of angels; and one cannot define a species in terms of a genus when no other species are known. 28 Despite this limitation, simultaneously including humans in a higher genus in principle resists the tendency to reduce the human to a "mere" animal. In the Summa Contra Gentiles, Aquinas locates the human within a cosmic scale of different modes of emanation (emanationis modus); in the unity of the human essence, the animal and the personal are brought together. While the inanimate interacts only via outer 26 Summa Contra Gentiles, II, c. 68, n. 6. 27 Summa Contra Gentiles, II, c. 68, n. 6. 28 On the advantages and disadvantages of defining the human as incarnate spirit, see James Lehrberger, O.Cist., "The Anthropology of Aquinas's De Ente et Essentia," The Review of Metaphysics 51 (1998): 829-847, esp. 843-844. 14 powers, living beings act by acting on themselves, and this kind of agency involves varying degrees of inwardness: "living things are those which move themselves to action [viventia sunt quae seipsa movent ad agendum]." 29 In plants, accordingly, there is some share of inwardness; in growing, they proceed from within but bring about something entirely external. With animals this degree of inwardness intensifies; in sensing, they proceed from within and bring something external, the perceptual object, to inward awareness; nonetheless, the sense power cannot know itself, so the movement from within to without does not entirely return within. It is otherwise for human beings. In knowing, the human goes beyond itself by means of sensing and then returns to itself through knowing to achieve self-knowledge. Unlike divine or angelic knowledge, which knows without an outward movement, human self-knowledge happens thanks to knowing something sensible: "For the human intellect, although it can know itself, does indeed take the first beginning of its knowledge from without, because it cannot understand without a phantasm." 30 Aquinas can thus situate human transcendence within a cosmic scale that highlights the uniqueness of our characteristic movement rather than compromises it. Aquinas, then, has two related strategies for saving the definition "rational animal." First, he sees the human, the highest in the genus of animal, as that which reveals the complete meaning of the genus. Second, he regards the human, the highest in the genus of animal, as being at the same time the lowest in the genus of created intelligences. Heidegger does not seem to take to either of Aquinas's strategies. In the "Letter on 'Humanism,'" he remarks, "In principle we are still thinking of homo animalis - even when anima [soul] is posited as animus 29 Summa Contra Gentiles, IV, c. 11, n. 3. 30 Summa Contra Gentiles, IV, c. 11, n. 5. 15 sive mens [spirit or mind], and this in turn is later posited as subject, person, or spirit." 31 This approach tells us something correct about the human being but it remains within the parameters of the metaphysical question concerning what something is and remains outside the experience in which the human person comes into his or her own: "Metaphysics closes itself to the simple essential fact that the human being essentially occurs in his essence only where he is claimed by being." 32 The same critique applies, it seems, also to the approach that would locate the human person within a genus that includes higher beings: "Are we really on the right track toward the essence of the human being as long as we set him off as one living creature among others in contrast to plants, beasts, and God?" 33 Thus, it seems that Aquinas's two strategies, while perhaps undercutting some of the force of Heidegger's objections, still miss what is essential. III Experiencing the Human Essence. Heidegger introduces the term Dasein in Being and Time by calling to mind two inseparable features of that entity for whom being is an issue: Dasein, unlike other sorts of things, is characterized by freedom and unrealized possibilities of acting and experiencing, and Dasein, unlike other sorts of things, exists for its own sake. Aquinas, too, is aware that the singularity of a human being, who has a mastery of his or her own actions, is significantly different from the singularity of other sorts of beings. 34 How does the unique human essence show up in experience? On his quest to understand the human from out 31 "Brief über den Humanismus," in Wegmarken, GA 9, ed. Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1976); "Letter on 'Humanism'," trans. Frank A. Capuzzi, in Pathmarks, ed. William McNeill (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 323/246. 32 "Brief über den Humanismus," 323/247. This claim echoes the opening of the Beiträge zur Philosophie in which he writes, "It is no longer a case of talking 'about' something and representing something objective, but rather of being owned over into enowning. This amounts to an essential transformation of the human from 'rational animal' (animal rationale) to Da-sein." Beiträge zur Philosophie, 1/3. 33 "Brief über den Humanismus," 323/247. 34 See Summa Theologiae, I, 29, a. 4, and I-II, prologue. 16 of the experience of being, Heidegger develops a new philosophical method called "formal indication." 35 Instead of the classical logic of definition in terms of genus and species, Heidegger proposes a logic of experiential indexicals, aimed to signify and motivate a shift in experiential register, from what is experienced, through how it is experienced, to the very modality of self at work in the experiencing. That is, he follows Husserl in distinguishing the act and the object of intentionality, but he goes further in envisioning a dual mode to the act: it can be enacted inauthentically or authentically. In the inauthentic register, the focus is on the object intended. In the authentic register, the focus retreats to the widest horizon, to set the intentional relation within the ultimate context in which it takes place. In the authentic register, there is not simply an experience of an item in the world; there is an experience of having an experience of an item in the world. Central, then, to Heidegger's conception of phenomenology is the character of the enactment (Vollzug): Each experience-as experiencing, and what is experienced-can "be taken in the phenomenon," that is to say, one can ask: 1. After the original "what," that is experienced therein (content). 2. After the original "how," in which it is experienced (relation). 3. After the original "how," in which the relational meaning is enacted (enactment). But these three directions of sense (content-, relational-, enactment-sense) do not simply coexist. "Phenomenon" is the totality of sense in these three directions. "Phenomenology" is explication of this totality of sense; it gives the " " of the phenomenon, " " in the sense of "verbum internum" (not in the sense of logicalization). 36 On the basis of this more comprehensive modality of experience, one can philosophize and bring to articulation the various transcendental structures that are at work in that experience (facticity, 35 See Steven Crowell, Husserl, Heidegger, and the Space of Meaning (Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern University Press, 2001), 137-144, and Daniel Dahlstrom, "Heidegger's Method: Philosophical Concepts as Formal Indications," Review of Metaphysics 47 (1994): 775-95. 36 Phänomenologie des religiösen Lebens, GA 60, ed. Matthias Jung, Thomas Regehly, and Claudius Strube (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1995); The Phenomenology of Religious Life, trans. Matthias Fritsch and Jennifer Anna Gosetti-Ferencei (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2004), 63/43. 17 fallenness, and the like). The mention of the Latin term, verbum internum, in this context is provocative, and we will return to it below; in Being and Time, Heidegger will appropriate the idea of the internal word in terms of the call of conscience. 37 The later Heidegger will suppress the name "formal indication" and come to emphasize the historicity of authentic experience, but the basic approach persists. 38 Heidegger finds every genus-species approach to the human problematical, because it remains closed to the formally indicative logic that shows us what is really essential to the human. We are not merely an entity within a cosmic scheme of entities; we are an entity open to the being of all entities and, in order to think about this openness, we need to turn from the entities themselves to the question of their being experienced. Heidegger introduces formal indication to articulate the intrinsic intelligibility of our way of being; he regards all generalization in terms of genus and species to be a way of conceiving us in terms of what we are not; in this way, generalization misses what is essential to being human. Now, it might seem that Aquinas would not be sympathetic to formal indication, because he belongs to the tradition it is deployed to overcome. However, in De Veritate, we find Aquinas doing something that seems quite similar to Heidegger's formal indication. Aquinas articulates the shift required for thinking about the condition for the possibility of truth; we have to know the active principle and its relatedness to that which is: Truth follows the operation of the intellect inasmuch as it belongs to the intellect to judge about a thing as it is. And truth is known by the intellect in view of the fact that the intellect reflects upon its own act-not merely as knowing its own act, but as knowing the proportion of its act to the thing. Now, this proportion cannot be known without knowing the nature of the act; and the nature of the act cannot be known without knowing the nature of the active principle, that is, the intellect itself, to whose nature it belongs to 37 Sein und Zeit, sections 54-60. On the importance of the medieval doctrine of the internal word for Heidegger's student, Hans-Georg Gadamer, see John Arthos, The Inner Word in Gadamer's Hermeneutics (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2009), and Mirela Oliva, Das innere Verbum in Gadamers Hermeneutik (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009). 38 See Lawrence Hatab, "The Point of Language in Heidegger's Thinking: A Call for the Revival of Formal Indication," Gatherings: The Heidegger Circle Annual 6 (2016): 1-22. 18 be conformed to things. Consequently, it is because the intellect reflects upon itself [supra seipsum reflectitur] that it knows truth. 39 Shifting from what is experienced to the act that experiences and thinking about this act as the expression of an active principle corresponds, in outline form, with Heidegger's logic of formal indication. In commenting on this passage, Heidegger focuses on Aquinas' sense of selfreflection, which he uncharitably identifies with the Cartesian cogito me cogitare; in point of fact, Aquinas is insisting, contrary to a kind of angelic or Cartesian anthropology, that selfknowledge in the human being begins by first encountering things outside us through sense perception; only on this basis can we return to ourselves and reflect on our agency in making sense of things. 40 Moreover, some self-awareness is to be found resident in the experience itself; reflection does not construct but elucidate the sense of self already present in the intentional experience. 41 Still, Heidegger is likely right in his general judgment that while Aquinas does have various accounts of the relatedness of the intellect to being he does not quite explain the modalization of experience necessary to bring this abstract relatedness to concrete, intuitive givenness. 42 In that way, Aquinas could benefit from Heidegger's development of phenomenological logic, which brings to intuitive givenness the transcendental relatedness of mind to world that Aquinas rightly considers. No doubt there are limits to definitions when we seek self-understanding and that the phenomenological task is to come into an experience of that which is essential, to encounter our essentiality. However, is Heidegger correct that the definition, "rational animal," distracts us from what is essential? It would be such a distraction only if animality were unrelated to the 39 Truth, vol. 1, trans. Robert W. Mulligan, S.J. (Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1952), q. 1, a. 9. 40 Geschichte der Philosophie von Thomas von Aquin bis Kant, GA 23, ed. Helmuth Vetter (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2006), 81. 41 On the interplay of nascent self-awareness and the act of reflection, see Therese Scarpelli Cory, Aquinas on Self-Knowledge (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014). 42 Geschichte der Philosophie, 63. 19 experience of being claimed by being. But this seems highly questionable. Isn't animation central to our indexicality, central to our role in providing a place for things to manifest themselves in their intelligibility? What if Heidegger were right in his 1925 judgment, quoted at the outset? In the middle ages and in Greek philosophy, the whole man was still seen; the apprehension of inner psychic life, what we now so readily call consciousness, was enacted [vollzogen] in a natural experience which was not regarded as an inner perception and so set off from an outer one. 43 Did the medieval and Greek apprehension happen upon an enactment of experience that had the virtue of failing to separate off the inner from the outer? Did this enactment express itself in the definition rational animal? And, if so, what value might this original unity have for fundamental ontology? One way to proceed is to ask how the genus-specific definition, "rational animal," can interface with the self-knowledge of each person as an individual knower, as an agent of experience. Heidegger's discussion of self-knowledge involves transparency concerning human existence as being-alongside the world and being-with others, a transparency brought about inwardly in terms of the call of conscience. 44 He does not speak of the way this self-knowledge shows up outwardly; the animate body is curiously absent from his account. 45 Aquinas has occasion to discuss self-knowledge as a rational animal while philosophizing in light of Trinitarian theology. Recall that Heidegger's formal indication sought a meaning to the 43 Prolegomena zur Geschichte des Zeitbegriffs, 15-16/15. Translation modified. 44 Sein und Zeit, 146/186-7. 45 Heidegger discusses the body obliquely in terms of bringing something close and the directionality of right and left, while acknowledging that a phenomenology of the human "bodily nature" needs to be developed. Sein und Zeit, 108/143. He will come to remedy this neglect in some of his later writings. For example, in dialogue with psychologists, he maintains that being-in-the-world is bound up with our animate bodies: "Within philosophy we must not limit the word 'gesture' merely to 'expression.' Instead, we must characterize all comportment of the human being as being-in-the-world, determined by the bodying forth of the body. Each movement of my body as a 'gesture' ... is always already in a certain region which is open through the thing to which I am in a relationship, for instance, when I take something into my hand." Zollikon Seminars, ed. Medard Boss, trans. Franz Mayr and Richard Askay (Northwestern University Press, 2001), 90-91. 20 phenomena "in the sense of 'verbum internum' (not in the sense of logicalization)." 46 Here Aquinas points to the interior word as the means for achieving self-understanding: When our intellect understands itself, the being of the intellect is one being, and that of its act of understanding another, for the substance of the intellect was in potency to understanding before it actually understood. Consequently, the being of the intention understood is one being and that of the intellect itself is another being, since the being of the intention understood is the very being understood. Necessarily, then, in a man understanding himself, the word interiorly conceived [verbum interius conceptum] is not a true man having the natural being [esse] of man, but is only man understood, a kind of likeness, as it were, of the true man which the intellect grasps [quasi quaedam similitudo hominis veri ab intellectu apprehensa]. 47 Note that Aquinas takes pains to say that this appearance of the self to the self is not really a likeness understood as a copy; instead it is a genuine presentation of what exists, the existing man, without being a kind of duplication. Aquinas points out in the next paragraph that "for this man is neither his humanity nor his act of being." 48 How does the interior word present the unity of this man? Does this self-understanding of understanding draw life from rational animality? Despite his insistence on sense perception for self-knowledge, does Aquinas here anticipate the Cartesian principle of self-reflection after all? Is Heidegger correct in his judgment that experience remains foreign to the definition, rational animal? Against the Averroists, Aquinas affirms, "This man [hic homo] understands." 49 Each person has his own act of understanding. Only if the intellectual soul animates this body is it 46 Phänomenologie des religiösen Lebens, 63/43. 47 Summa Contra Gentiles, IV, c. 11, n. 11. 48 Summa Contra Gentiels, IV, c. 11, n. 12. 49 Commentary on Aristotle's 'De Anima', trans. Kenelm Foster, O.P. and Sylvester Humphries, O.P. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1951), III, lecture 7, n. 690. On the role of the interior word for self-understanding, see Bernard Lonergan's helpful study, Verbum: Word and Idea in Aquinas, ed. David B. Burrell, C.S.C. (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1967), 75-88. In the context of my inquiry, I have two reservations with his account: he refers to Aquinas's method as one of "introspection," and he accordingly does not follow Aquinas in emphasizing the role of the body in the individuation of experience. 21 possible to say that this man understands. 50 And, as animated bodies, we find ourselves in the midst of other animated bodies: When we see that a man is moved and performs other works, we perceive that there is present in him some cause of these operations which is not present in other things, and we call this cause the soul; yet we do not know at that point what the soul is, whether it is a body, or how it produces these operations which have been mentioned. 51 The interior word grasps the self as an embodied rational animal that shows up in the world thanks to bodily movement and action. The animate body proves to be the localized center for the manifestation of the person: For "person" in general signifies the individual substance of a rational nature. The individual in itself is undivided, but is distinct from others. Therefore "person" in any nature signifies what is distinct in that nature: thus in human nature it signifies this flesh, these bones, and this soul, which are the individuating principles of a man, and which, though not belonging to "person" in general, nevertheless do belong to the meaning of a particular human person. 52 In articulating the metaphysics of human individuality, Aquinas points to the particular matter that makes up the person. At the same time, he points to the experience of that incarnate spirit: he or she shows up in the domain of experience so we can point to this person as other than that person. Aquinas's interior word, then, contains an implicit reference to the experience of rational embodiment that is distinct from all others. Self-knowledge comes from the domain of interpersonal animation. When we point to a rational animal, we point to a pointer. We point to one who not only perceives the world but who understands the logic of points of view and can direct the views of others. We point to human persons, the pointers in the world. 50 Summa Theologiae, I, q. 76, a. 1. 51 Summa Contra Gentiles, III, c. 38, n. 1. Aquinas' account of intersubjectivity receives illumination in the work of Karol Wojtyła, who highlights two moments of intersubjective awareness: an understanding of the human essence and an understanding of this person revealed through embodied acts of the will. See "Participation or Alienation?" In Person and Community: Selected Essays, trans. Theresa Sandok, OSM (New York: Peter Lang, 1993), 197-207. 52 Summa Theologiae, trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province (New York: Benziger Bros., 1948), I, 29, a. 4. My emphasis. 22 Though Heidegger does talk about Dasein without this flesh, these bones, and this animating principle, the question arises whether this neglect does not handicap his efforts to establish fundamental ontology. In other words, is anything lost due to his one-sided focus on the inside of experience in the call of conscience and his neglect of the outwardness of experience in the thisness of interpersonal encounter? Can Dasein point to Dasein pointing? Moreover, does Aquinas grasp the ontological implications of his animate approach to being human? Can the debate concerning animation and experiencing the human essence illumine the task of fundamental ontology? IV Rational Animal and Fundamental Ontology. In 1922, Heidegger drafted the introduction to a book on Aristotle that never came to be. In that text he mentions briefly the Aristotelian approach to animality as providing a concrete approach to intentionality and intelligibility. He planned to treat "human life and its movement," worked out in the Nicomachean Ethics, within a wider context of natural movement: We first provide an interpretation of De anima with respect to its ontological and logical structure, and indeed this itself is carried out on the broader basis of an explication of the domain of the being of life as a particular kind of movement (i.e., on the basis of an interpretation of De motu animalium). What is shown here is how "intentionality" comes into view for Aristotle and indeed as "objective," i.e., as a how of the movement of life that is somehow "noetially" illuminated when it goes about its dealings. Beings in their basic aspect of being-moved, i.e., their "being out for" and "going toward," constitute the forehaving and condition that makes it possible for us to bring intentionality into relief in accord with how it becomes explicit in Aristotle and for its part makes visible the basic characteristic of . 53 53 "Phänomenologische Interpretationen zu Aristoteles (Anzeige der hermeneutischen Situation), ed. HansUlrich Lessing, Dilthey-Jahrbuch für Philosophie und Geschichte der Geisteswissenschaften 6 (1989); "Phenomenological Interpretations in Connection with Aristotle: An Indication of the Hermeneutical Situation (1922)," trans. John van Buren, in Supplements: From the Earliest Essays to 'Being and Time' and Beyond, ed. van Buren (Albany: SUNY, 2002), 267-8/143-144. 23 According to this view, Aristotle provides the way to understand intentionality from the outside through the movement of animals, and this movement helps explicate the specifically human sense of . Rather than developing this insight, Heidegger in Being and Time runs his analysis of Dasein independent of the question of animate movement. Hence he treats of time (and space) as structures of experience that can be grasped through authentic existence; he passes over the movement that puts time and space into play thanks to our bodily way of being. Heidegger's rejection of "rational animality" and his rejection of animate movement as clue to the human being go hand in hand. What would have been the advantage had Heidegger approached fundamental ontology through interpersonal animate movement? In Logical Investigations, Husserl accomplished two things of lasting significance for Heidegger's project. First, he refuted psychologism, the attempt to handle truth in terms of empirical principles. As early as 1912, Heidegger claims that Husserl's investigations "have truly broken the psychological spell": "While Frege overcame psychologism in principle, Husserl in his Prolegomena to a Pure Logic has systematically and comprehensively confronted the essence, relativistic consequences, and theoretical worthlessness of psychologism." 54 Second, Husserl developed the principles to account for the way truth shows up in experience in terms of the play of emptily intending and then bodily perceiving one and the same object. The experience of the identity of thought and perceptual presence is the experience of self-showing or truth. The only way to square the refutation of psychologism and the phenomenology of truth is to make the transcendental turn. The analytic of Being and Time aims to uncover the a priori condition for the possibility of experience and thereby to develop Husserl's phenomenological 54 "Neuere Forschungen über Logik," in Frühe Schriften (1912-1916), GA 1, ed. Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann (Frankfurt: Klostermann, 1978); "Recent Research in Logic," in Becoming Heidegger: On the Trail of His Early Occasional Writings, 1910-1927, ed. Theodore Kisiel and Thomas Sheehan (Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 2007), 19/33 and 20/33. 24 project: "To disclose the a priori is not to make an 'a-prioristic' construction. Edmund Husserl has not only enabled us to understand once more the meaning of any genuine philosophical empiricism; he has also given us the necessary tools. 'A-priorism' is the method of every scientific philosophy which understands itself." 55 Heidegger's discussion of truth as disclosedness in Being and Time amounts to a development of this transcendental domain. 56 Husserl's analysis of perception, that is, of intending something in the flesh, makes a tacit reference to our embodied selves and our own vantage point. For only that which is near us, in view thanks to our viewpoint, can be present in the flesh. Our own bodies, not qua physical things, but qua centers or origins of experiential exploration, have crucial roles to play in making sense of the experience of at least perceptual truths. 57 Heidegger's notion of disclosedness similarly suggests a kind of exploratory movement without, however, explicitly relating that movement to the body which makes such movement possible. 58 Aquinas turns from the movement itself to that which shows up thanks to the movement, and he reflects on how that movement reveals something essential to what shows up in that movement, a revelation that could not happen in another way. Aquinas wants to explain the thisness of this composite substance and he does so in terms of designate matter. 59 Now, designate matter is matter we can point to, matter that is the term of our animate, bodily movement. It is not abstract but concrete. Our bodies play, then, a crucial role in allowing us to target the concreteness of things. They not only play a role in accounting for sense perception; 55 Sein und Zeit, 50/490. 56 See Chad Engelland, Heidegger's Shadow: Kant, Husserl, and the Transcendental Turn (New York: Routledge, 2017), 32-60. 57 For Husserl's distinction between body and flesh, see Ideas Pertaining to a Pure Phenomenology and to a Phenomenological Philosophy: Second Book, Studies in the Phenomenology of Constitution, trans. Richard Rojcewicz and André Schuwer (Dordrecht: Kluwer, 1989), §§35-42, pp. 151-169. 58 On this movement, see Chad Engelland, Ostension: Word Learning and the Embodied Mind (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2014), 131-170 and 193-214. 59 See John Wippel, The Metaphysical Thought of Thomas Aquinas, 351-375. 25 they not only play a role in individuating us to be the particular being each of us is; but they play a role in what would be Aquinas's fundamental ontology: our animate bodies, localizing us in the here and now, allow us to highlight the particularity of those beings we encounter. To introduce our bodies is to do so not only in terms of their materiality or potency to receive form but also in terms of their natural and dynamic possibilities for movement and rest. We can initiate a movement, say stretching out an arm, hand, and index finger, and bring about a rest, thereby targeting the thing in its particularity. We puzzle over the , the hoc aliquid, the this something. Now, designating the particular is tricky, both because the act of pointing is necessarily ambiguous and because language only expresses universality. 60 In the case of targeting something in its particularity it seems necessary to invoke language in order to revoke it: I am not pointing to the treeness of the tree, shared in principle by many, but its particularity, its thisness. The pointing makes use of the here and now to make manifest something in its particularity not in its hereness and nowness. It is not a matter of targeting its presence but of making it present to target its identity, an identity that remains through the interplay of presence and absence, an identity that came to be and may one day cease to be thanks to a constellation of causal factors. At the same time, we do not point to the identity as excluding its intelligibility, for these are moments one to another; the particularity of a tree is distinguishable but not separable from its being a tree. To use an example from Heidegger that underscores the human difference: "The worker bee is familiar with the blossoms it frequents along with their colour and scent, but it does not know the stamens of these blossoms as stamens, it knows nothing about the roots of the plant and it cannot know anything about the number of stamens or leaves, for 60 On disambiguating pointing, see Engelland, Ostension, 171-192. 26 example. As against this, the world of man is a rich one. ..." 61 The bee, closed to the intelligibility of the stamen is closed too to its particularity; rather the blossom shows up only through the determinations of its drives. By contrast, we can target the particular identity and intelligibility of things independent of our own interests. In this way, I do not think that Heidegger's critique of the metaphysical tradition, so memorably expressed by Derrida's phrase, "metaphysics of presence," understands what is at issue in grasping intelligibility; though the identity and intelligibility of a thing can only be known through presence, it is known through presence as indifferent to presence and absence. 62 Aquinas uses thisness without thematizing the animate body's role in being a condition for the possibility of metaphysics. 63 He does speak about the need of the phantasm for understanding, because the phantasm unites our understanding of nature to what actually exists. In this way, the phantasm is significant precisely because it retains the bodily pointingsomething-out of experience: Wherefore the nature of a stone or any material thing cannot be known completely and truly, except in as much as it is known as existing in the individual. Now we apprehend the individual through the senses and the imagination. And, therefore, for the intellect to understand actually its proper object, it must of necessity turn to the phantasms in order to perceive the universal nature existing in the individual. 64 61 Die Grundbegriffe der Metaphysik. Welt-Endlichket-Einsamkeit, 285/193. 62 See "Platons Lehre von der Wahrheit," in Wegmarken, ed. Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1976); "Plato's Doctrine of Truth," trans. Thomas Sheehan, in Pathmarks, ed. William McNeill (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 225/173, 230-231/176-177. On Heidegger's understanding of essence, see my Heidegger's Shadow, 224-227. 63 What about God and the angels? Can't they know singulars? Aquinas says yes: God, insofar as he causes to be all that is knows the singular; angels, insofar as they are given to participate in God's creative knowledge, can likewise know singulars. Summa Theologiae, I, q. 57, a. 2. Neither, however, need philosophize nor do metaphysics. Hence, our bodies are a condition for the possibility of metaphysics; they constitute the need and the means for us to philosophize with our unique grade of finite and embodied intellects. 64 Summa Theologiae, I, q. 84, a. 7. 27 One way to develop the relevance of bodily movement for Aquinas would be to turn to the derivation of the transcendentals in De Veritate. 65 This is the very passage which Heidegger calls our attention to in Being and Time in order to maintain that the analytic of Dasein does not amount to a kind of relativism; the apriori relatedness of being to the human soul can be found in Aristotle's dictum that the soul is in a way all things, a point explicitly developed by Aquinas. Heidegger writes: Aristotle's principle, which points back to the ontological thesis of Parmenides, is one which Thomas Aquinas has taken up in a characteristic discussion. ... Thomas has to demonstrate that the verum is such a transcendens. He does this by invoking an entity which, in accordance with its very manner of being, is properly suited to "come together with" entities of any sort whatever. This distinctive entity, the ens quod natum est convenire cum omni ente, is the soul (anima). Here the priority of "Dasein" over all other entities emerges, although it has not been ontologically clarified. This priority has obviously nothing in common with a vicious subjectivizing of the totality of entities. 66 Aquinas calls all being true and good in reference to the intellective soul which is in a way all things. The question to pose to Aquinas is whether this correlation of being and the intellectual soul applies only to the intellectual soul qua intellectual soul or also to the intellectual soul qua sensitive power? For in the human though not in God or the angels, the intellective soul exercises virtual sensitive powers. 67 Aquinas says that knowing the truth involves knowing not only the essence of what is known and the act of knowing but especially knowing the proportion between what is known and the act of knowing, a knowledge that comes from reflecting on the act of knowing. Intellectual substances go out of themselves to know something but the movement is completed in a return to self. Aquinas introduces this movement in order to observe that sense perception in a way begins the return to self but does not complete it: "Since sense is closer to an intellectual substance than other things are, it begins to return to its essence; 65 Truth, q. 1, a. 1. 66 Sein und Zeit, 14/34. 67 Summa Theologiae, I, q. 76, a. 3. 28 it not only knows the sensible, but it also knows that it senses. Its return, however, is not complete, since it does not know its own essence." 68 Only the intellect can know itself in its act of knowing and know the relation of itself and the object known. I would like to develop this point beyond what Aquinas explicitly says. Can the intellect know the proportion of our bodily, sensing, moving being to our knowledge of material beings? In On the Soul, Aristotle identifies three interrelated foci of meaning: the intellect, the sensitive soul, and the hand. He writes: "It follows that the soul is analogous to the hand; for as the hand is a tool of tools, so thought is the form of forms and sense the form of sensible things." 69 Can we not expand what Aquinas says about truth's relatedness to the knowing power and maintain that, in relation to the incarnate intellective soul, all material being is able to be designated? That the condition for the possibility of doing metaphysics about material beings is having an intellectual soul which, thanks to animating a body, can allow us to point to things in their particularity? Aquinas seems to move in this direction in detailing his "history of being" in the Summa Theologiae. There he iterates three epochs of inquiry into being, epochs defined by the limits of their horizon of questioning. In the beginning, philosophers were "grosser" in mind and therefore conceived of being in terms of bodily qualities alone. 70 But then Plato and Aristotle happened upon the specificity of bodies in terms of substantial forms that we can point out; our bodies allow us to target the particularity and substantiality of bodily being. What this horizon of questioning does not include, however, is the availability of the matter contracted by the substantial form, either in the being pointed out or, presumably, in the being that points it out. I 68 Truth, q. 1, a. 9. 69 On the Soul, trans. J. A. Smith, in The Complete Works of Aristotle: The Revised Oxford Translation, Vol. 1, ed. Jonathan Barnes (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984), 3.8, 432a1-3. 70 Summa Theologiae, I, q. 44, a. 2. 29 say presumably, because Aquinas is committed to the principle that knowing involves knowing the proportion of the act of understanding to that which is understood. Aquinas thinks it was necessary, then, to move into a deeper horizon of questioning that grasps being as being: "Then others there were who arose to the consideration of 'being,' as being, and who assigned a cause to things, not as 'these,' or as 'such,' [haec vel talia] but as 'beings.'" Aquinas thematizes eras of metaphysical inquiry in terms of bodiliness. In doing so, he highlights the importance of pointing to what is in order to progress beyond the Presocratic inquiry. The final stage, which fulfills the original quest to comprehend being as being, marks a third way of appropriating bodiliness, not only as having qualities or particular substantiality but also as occupying a wider context of existence. Aquinas sees a historical relatedness to understanding being in terms of the animate movement of pointing. 71 Aquinas observes that an inanimate object might be right or left relative to the explorations of a given animal, but of course this tells us nothing about the object itself except its accidental relatedness to the animal's surrounding world. For there is in animals a distinction of the powers from which the relation of right and left arises, on which account such a relation truly and really exists in the animal. Hence, no matter how the animal is turned around, the relation always maintains itself in the same way, for the right part is never called the left. Inanimate things, to be sure, which lack the powers just mentioned, have no relation of this kind really existing in them, but one names them in the relation of right or of left from this: the animals in some way present themselves to the inanimate. Hence, the same column is called now right, now left, inasmuch as the animal is compared to it in a different situation. 72 By contrast, when we point to something in its particularity, we are not targeting something accidental to it but instead something constitutive of it. The pointing is accidental but that which the pointing targets is not. What is the difference between being right or left and this pointing? 71 For a Thomistic history of being that includes post-Thomistic thinking, see Kenneth Schmitz, The Recovery of Wonder: The New Freedom and the Asceticism of Power (Montreal & Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 2005). 72 Summa Contra Gentiles, IV, c. 14, n. 11. 30 Being right or left is incidental to what something is; while the fact of being pointed out is still incidental, being able to be pointed out is an intrinsic property of something. It makes no difference to the essence of a tree whether it is on the right or left of a hiker, nor does it make a difference to that essence whether it is pointed out or known by the hiker. But it does make a difference to that essence that it can be pointed out, that it is something that is particular and able to be so designated. Each thing corresponds with the intellect as knowable and so true, each thing corresponds with the will as appetible and so good, and each material thing corresponds with the animate body as able to be pointed out and so individual. Heidegger realizes formally the need for a fundamental ontology that would relate the traditional categories both to the human way of being and to the place in which the human is. He also expands the categories beyond sensible substances to include categories for handy things such as tools, for scientific objects of investigation, and for the particularly human way of being. However, he neglects the kind of categorial articulation that was the focus of Aristotle and Aquinas: the being of living beings. One clue in Being and Time for pursuing the importance of the body for fundamental ontology is to recall that Heidegger's categorial articulation of the ready-to-hand and present-to-hand occurs relative to what Aristotle calls the "tool of tools," namely the human hand. In several texts from the 1940s and 50s, Heidegger develops this significance and shows a clear recognition of the importance of the human hand for understanding being. In What Is Called Thinking (1951-52), he writes, "If we are to think of man not as a living being but a human being, we must first give attention to the fact that man is that being who has his being by pointing to what is, and that particular beings manifest themselves as such by such pointing [Zeigen]." 73 To be human means to be open to the 73 Was Heisst Denken? (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 1954); What Is Called Thinking? trans. J. Glenn Gray (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1968), 153/148-149. Translation modified. 31 intelligibility of things. Even our hands take their significance from this openness: "The hand is infinitely different from all grasping organs-paws, claws, or fangs-different by an abyss of essence. Only a being who can speak, that is, think, can have hands and can be handy in achieving works of handicraft." 74 Specifically human acts are bound up with the handiness of the hand: "Man himself acts [handelt] through the hand [Hand]; for the hand is, together with the word, the essential distinction of man. ... Through the hand occur both prayer and murder, greeting and thanks, oath and signal, and also the 'work' of the hand, the 'hand-work,' and the tool." 75 The hand expresses the fundamental disclosive activity of Dasein in relation to things and other Dasein: "The hand does not only grasp and catch, or push and pull. The hand reaches and extends, receives and welcomes-and not just things: the hand extends itself, and receives its own welcome in the hands of others." 76 Even language is spoken in the milieu of the body's gestures. 77 "Every motion of the hand in every one of its works carries itself through the element of thinking, every bearing of the hand bears itself in that element." 78 Openness to being includes the body and its animate movement. Heidegger considers the difference between the Latin terms anima and animus only to conclude that both terms subordinate the human to the animal. However, he immediately adds a qualification that amounts to a retraction: "Animus, it is true, means that thinking and striving of human nature [jenes Sinnen und Trachten des Menschenwesens] which always is determined by, attuned to, what is [das überall von dem her, was ist, bestimmt und das heisst gestimmt bleibt]." 79 Things are available to us in their intelligibility thanks in part to the striving of our thoughtful 74 18/16. 75 Parmenides, GA 54, ed. Manfred S. Frings (Frankfurt: Klostermann, 1982); Parmenides, trans. André Schuwer and Richard Rojcewicz (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2009), 118/80. 76 Was Heisst Denken? 18-19/16. 77 19/16. 78 19/16. 79 Was Heisst Denken?, 153/149. Translation modified. 32 animate movement. But doesn't that mean we should rethink animality to accommodate this extraordinary possibility? The human act of pointing is among the highest possibilities of animality. Dining and procreation would be two other such possibilities. 80 V Conclusion. In the "Letter on 'Humanism,'" Heidegger writes, "Of all the beings that are, presumably the most difficult to think about are living creatures, because on the one hand they are in a certain way most closely akin to us [am nächsten verwandt], and on the other they are at the same time separated from our ek-sistent essence by an abyss." 81 To safeguard the difference, he denies himself the vocabulary to articulate the acknowledged kinship. Humans are strangers on the earth. In making us so he renders the difference suspect, for the kindship of humans and animals is evident in our experience. Should he want to be persuasive in safeguarding the difference, he must give an account of the kinship. Aquinas's strategy for rescuing animality provides an alternative; the abyssal difference between humans and other animals transforms the meaning of the whole genus animalia. The fundamental difference affects the sameness. For Aquinas, ours is not a foreign presence; ours is a transfiguring one, which takes up and transforms the meaning of the life led by the other animals that festoon the earth we call home. Is the definition, "rational animal," dangerous? Of course it is, but so is "Dasein," "eksistent," "being-in-the-world," "shepherd of being," and the technical vocabulary that Heidegger makes his own. Every word in which we name ourselves is prone to misunderstanding. All such 80 See Leon Kass, The Hungry Soul: Eating and the Perfecting of Our Nature (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999) and Chad Engelland, "The Personal Significance of Sexual Reproduction," The Thomist 79 (2015): 615-639 81 "Brief über den Humanismus," 326/248. 33 words may obscure instead of illuminate. In Being and Time, Heidegger writes that "the ultimate business of philosophy is to preserve the force of the most elemental words in which Dasein expresses itself, and to keep the common understanding from leveling them off to that unintelligibility which functions in turn as a source of pseudo-problems." 82 Surely, human animality is one of those terms. Aristotle sensibly observes, "And, of course, man is the animal with which we are all of us the most familiar." 83 Why capitulate to "common understanding" when it comes to animality? Doesn't that create what Heidegger rightly regards as a pseudoproblem? Aquinas wrestles with the logic of definition to enable the human to transfigure the meaning of animality; he also indicates ways in which our bodies give us a grip on the particularity of the things of this world, a grip that has changed from epoch to epoch. Heidegger's astute inquiry into the condition for the possibility of understanding being can reveal the riches of Aquinas's thoughts about animation. Aquinas touches upon fundamental ontology in relating the embodied intellect to that which is known, but he does not grasp the contours of the problematic in the radical manner pioneered by Heidegger. Though Heidegger inquired into fundamental ontology, his neglect of animation hampers his efforts and closes him to the aspects that Aquinas' thought allows us to perceive. Hence, both Aquinas and Heidegger benefit from the encounter: Aquinas in becoming perspicacious regarding fundamental ontology and Heidegger in becoming perspicacious regarding the significance of animation for that project. Heidegger's rejection of the classical term "rational animal" suggests he was unable to extricate himself completely from Descartes's shadow by recovering a sense of life whose 82 Sein und Zeit, 220/262. 83 History of Animals, trans. Thompson, in Complete Works of Aristotle, vol. I, ed. Barnes, 1.6, 491a19. 34 outward display is ineluctably inward as well. Saving the definition, rational animal, allows us to reconnect Dasein to living, bodily beings, and doing so makes fundamental ontology open to the sort of phenomenon of chief interest to Aristotle and Aquinas. Even though the understanding of our bodies changes from epoch to epoch, and even though how an age and a thinker understands being shifts, the inclusion of our animate, formed bodies and their needs introduces a non-historical element into fundamental ontology. The body provides an Aristotelian rather than a Platonic universal: a dynamic, flexible intelligibility woven into the fabric of being that allows us to make sense of the world and of ourselves. 84 84 See my Ostension, 171-192. Shorter versions of this paper were presented at the Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology and in the session, "Phenomenology and Metaphysics," at a meeting of the American Catholic Philosophical Association. I am thankful to Justin Gable, O.P., Anselm Ramelow, O.P., Molly Flynn, Jonathan J. Sanford, and Mark Spencer for their comments on those occasions. Michael Bowler, Mirela Oliva, and James Lehrberger, O.Cist., also provided invaluable assistance. 35 Works Cited Aquinas, Thomas. On Being and Essence, 2d ed. Translated by Armand Maurer. Toronto: PIMS, 1968. ________. Commentary on Aristotle's 'De Anima'. Translated by Kenelm Foster, O.P. and Sylvester Humphries, O.P. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1951. ________. Summa Contra Gentiles, Book II: Creation. Translated by James Anderson. Garden City, NY: Hanover House, 1957. ________. Summa Contra Gentiles, Book III: Creation. Translated by Vernon Bourke. Garden City, NY: Hanover House, 1957. ________. Summa Contra Gentiles, Book IV: Salvation. Translated by Charles O'Neil. Garden City, NY: Hanover House, 1957. ________. Summa Theologiae. Translated by Fathers of the English Dominican Province. New York: Benziger Bros., 1948. ________. Truth, vol. 1. Translated by Robert W. Mulligan, S.J. Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1952. Aristotle. History of Animals. Translated by Thompson. In The Complete Works of Aristotle: The Revised Oxford Translation. Vol. 1. Edited by Jonathan Barnes. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984. ________. On the Soul. Translated by J. A. Smith. In The Complete Works of Aristotle: The Revised Oxford Translation. Vol. 1. Edited by Jonathan Barnes. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984. Arthos, John. The Inner Word in Gadamer's Hermeneutics. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2009. Cory, Therese Scarpelli. Aquinas on Self-Knowledge. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014. Crowell, Steven. Husserl, Heidegger, and the Space of Meaning. Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern University Press, 2001. Dahlstrom, Daniel. "Heidegger's Method: Philosophical Concepts as Formal Indications." Review of Metaphysics 47 (1994): 775-95. Engelland, Chad. "Heidegger and the Human Difference." Journal of the American Philosophical Association 1 (2015): 175-193. 36 ________. Heidegger's Shadow: Husserl, Kant, and the Transcendental Turn. New York: Routledge, 2017. ________. Ostension: Word Learning and the Embodied Mind. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2014. ________. "The Personal Significance of Sexual Reproduction." The Thomist 79 (2015): 615639. Hatab, Lawrence. "The Point of Language in Heidegger's Thinking: A Call for the Revival of Formal Indication." Gatherings: The Heidegger Circle Annual 6 (2016): 1-22. Heidegger, Martin. Beiträge zur Philosophie (Vom Ereignis). GA 65. Edited by FriedrichWilhelm von Herrmann. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1989. Contributions to Philosophy (From Enowning). Translated by Parvis Emad and Kenneth Maly. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999. ________. "Brief über den Humanismus." In Wegmarken. GA 9. Edited by Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1976. "Letter on 'Humanism'." Translated by Frank A. Capuzzi. In Pathmarks. Edited by William McNeill. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. ________. Das Ereignis. GA 71. Edited by Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2009. The Event. Translated by Richard Rojcewicz. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2013. ________. Geschichte der Philosophie von Thomas von Aquin bis Kant. GA 23. Edited by Helmuth Vetter. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2006. ________. Die Grundbegriffe der Metaphysik. Welt-Endlichket-Einsamkeit. GA 29/30. Edited by Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1983. The Fundamental Concepts of Metaphysics. Translated by William McNeill and Nicholas Walker. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1995. ________. Grundfragen der Philosophie: Ausgewählte 'Probleme' der 'Logik.' GA 45. Edited by Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1984. Basic Questions of Philosophy: Selected 'Problems' of 'Logic.' Translated by Richard Rojcewicz and André Schuwer. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1994. ________. "Neuere Forschungen über Logik," in Frühe Schriften (1912-1916). GA 1. Edited by Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann. Frankfurt: Klostermann, 1978. "Recent Research in Logic," in Becoming Heidegger: On the Trail of His Early Occasional Writings, 19101927. Edited by Theodore Kisiel and Thomas Sheehan. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 2007. 37 ________. Parmenides. GA 54. Edited by Manfred S. Frings. Frankfurt: Klostermann, 1982. Parmenides. Translated by André Schuwer and Richard Rojcewicz. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2009. ________. Phänomenologie des religiösen Lebens. GA 60. Edited by Matthias Jung, Thomas Regehly, and Claudius Strube. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1995. The Phenomenology of Religious Life. Translated by Matthias Fritsch and Jennifer Anna Gosetti-Ferencei. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2004. ________. "Phänomenologische Interpretationen zu Aristoteles (Anzeige der hermeneutischen Situation), ed. HansUlrich Lessing, Dilthey-Jahrbuch für Philosophie und Geschichte der Geisteswissenschaften 6 (1989): 237-69. "Phenomenological Interpretations in Connection with Aristotle: An Indication of the Hermeneutical Situation (1922)." Translated by John van Buren. In Supplements: From the Earliest Essays to 'Being and Time' and Beyond, ed. van Buren, 111-45. Albany: SUNY, 2002. ________. "Platons Lehre von der Wahrheit." In Wegmarken. Edited by Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1976. "Plato's Doctrine of Truth." Translated by Thomas Sheehan. In Pathmarks. Edited by William McNeill. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. ________. Prolegomena zur Geschichte des Zeitbegriffs. GA 20. Edited by Petra Jaeger. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1979. History of the Concept of Time: Prolegomena. Translated by Theodore Kisiel. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985. ________. Sein und Zeit, 18th ed. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 2001. Being and Time. Translated by John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson. New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1962. ________. Was Heisst Denken? Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 1954. What Is Called Thinking? Translated by J. Glenn Gray. New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1968. ________. "Vom Wesen und Begriff der . Aristoteles, Physik B, 1." In Wegmarken. GA 9. Edited by Friedrich-Wilhelm von Herrmann. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1976. "On the Essence and Concept of in Aristotle's Physics B, 1." Translated by Thomas Sheehan." In Pathmarks. Edited by William McNeill. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. ________. Zollikon Seminars, ed. Medard Boss. Translated by Franz Mayr and Richard Askay. Northwestern University Press, 2001. Husserl, Edmund. Ideas Pertaining to a Pure Phenomenology and to a Phenomenological Philosophy: Second Book, Studies in the Phenomenology of Constitution. Translated by Richard Rojcewicz and André Schuwer. Dordrecht: Kluwer, 1989. 38 Jonas, Hans. The Phenomenon of Life: Toward a Philosophical Biology. New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1966. Kass, Leon. The Hungry Soul: Eating and the Perfecting of Our Nature. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999. Lehrberger, James, O.Cist. "The Anthropology of Aquinas's De ente et essentia." Review of Metaphysics 51 (1988): 829-847. Lonergan, Bernard. Verbum: Word and Idea in Aquinas, ed. David B. Burrell, C.S.C. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1967. MacIntyre, Alasdair. Dependent Rational Animals: Why Human Beings Need the Virtues. Chicago: Open Court, 1999. Oliva, Mirela. Das innere Verbum in Gadamers Hermeneutik. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009. Schmitz, Kenneth L. The Recovery of Wonder: The New Freedom and the Asceticism of Power. Montreal & Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 2005. Sheets-Johnstone, Maxine. The Primacy of Movement, 2d ed. Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 2011. Thompson, Evan. Mind in Life: Biology, Phenomenology, and the Sciences of Mind. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2007. Wippel, John. The Metaphysical Thought of Thomas Aquinas: From Finite Being to Uncreated Being. Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 2000. Wojtyła, Karol. "Participation or Alienation?" In Person and Community: Selected Essays. Translated by Theresa Sandok, OSM. New York: Peter Lang, 1993.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Humanities 2015, 4, 885–904; doi:10.3390/h4040885 humanities ISSN 2076-0787 www.mdpi.com/journal/humanities Article The Ubiquity of Humanity and Textuality in Human Experience Daihyun Chung Department of Philosophy, Ewha Womans University, Seoul 120-750, South Korea; E-Mail: [email protected]; Tel.: +82-10-6286-9233 Academic Editor: Albrecht Classen Received: 16 June 2015 / Accepted: 19 November 2015 / Published: 27 November 2015 Abstract: The so-called "crisis of the humanities" can be understood in terms of an asymmetry between the natural and social sciences on the one hand and the humanities on the other. While the sciences approach topics related to human experience in quantificational or experimental terms, the humanities turn to ancient, canonical, and other texts in the search for truths about human experience. As each approach has its own unique limitations, it is desirable to overcome or remove the asymmetry between them. The present article seeks to do just that by advancing and defending the following two claims: (a) that humanity is ubiquitous wherever language is used; and (b) that anything that can be experienced by humans is in need of an interpretation. Two arguments are presented in support of these claims. The first argument concerns the nature of questions, which are one of the fundamental marks or manifestations of human language. All questions are ultimately attempts to find meanings or interpretations of what is presented. As such, in questioning phenomena, one seeks to transcend the negative space or oppression of imposed structures; in doing so, one reveals one's humanity. Second, all phenomena are textual in nature: that which astrophysicists find in distant galaxies or which cognitive neuroscientists find in the structures of the human brain are no less in need of interpretation than the dialogues of Plato or the poems of Homer. Texts are ubiquitous. The implications of these two arguments are identified and discussed in this article. In particular, it is argued that the ubiquity of humanity and textuality points to a view of human nature that is neither individualistic nor collectivist but rather integrational in suggesting that the realization of oneself is inseparable from the realization of others. Keywords: humanities; questions; languages; integrationality OPEN ACCESS Humanities 2015, 4 886 1. Introduction: How to Make Humanities Relevant What challenges confront the humanities in the contemporary period? While this question has been approached in a variety of ways ([1], pp. 310–11), I would like to characterize the contemporary crisis within the humanities in terms of the following two propositions: The first is that almost all academic subjects have been, or are in the process of being, transformed from qualitative to quantitative studies in light of the success of the natural and social sciences. For example ([2], pp. 47–48), quantum physics has shown the properties of chemical elements in minerals in a distant galaxy usingspectroscopy. The Hubble space telescope produced a photograph-the Hubble Ultra-Deep Field-by digitalizing various analog light phenomena from distant galaxies, revealing that there are hundreds of billions of galaxies each of which has over a hundred billion stars and that those stars have different sizes, shapes, colors, ages, and elements. Genetic biologists have designed a DNA sequencer to read genetic information, to describe the detailed elements of life cells, and to characterize "digital files" for all living beings. Furthermore, the digitalization of the information in living organisms allows for synthetic genomics and the construction of new living organisms ([3], pp. 46–50). These kinds of successes in the natural sciences have pushed the social sciences in the direction of using more quantitative methodologies. For example, psychology, which was once regarded as a qualitative discipline, has come to rely more heavily on quantitative methods. The second proposition that characterizes the contemporary situation is that the humanities cannot be approached quantitatively because their proper function is to interpret human experience qualitatively. Whereas the natural and social sciences understand and explain phenomena by discovering patterns among quantitative descriptions of individual objects or events, the humanities seek to provide descriptions of qualitatively different alternatives to present human experience. Literature, history, and philosophy exemplify this kind of pursuit. Literature is not a description of actual human experience but is rather the imaginative construction of possible worlds or experiences. Similarly, history provides interpretations of past events that are dependent on certain values or background assumptions. Historical events are unique and quite distinct from the events studied in the social sciences, which are seen as belonging to generalizations or laws. Philosophy is not a description of constative truth but rather an activity of conceptual analysis and the reconstruction of a more reasonable reality. Thus, literature, history, and philosophy are not quantitative endeavors but rather constructions of possible worlds that are qualitatively different from present human experience. Given these two propositions, the need for, and relevance of, the humanities is called into question, for the quantitative sciences can deal with almost all intellectual challenges and qualitative reflections are directed solely to the interpretation of literary texts. This is the so-called "crisis of the humanities", which is evident within contemporary universities and other social institutions. This crisis raises many questions, including the following two: What can be done about the asymmetry in significance between quantitative and qualitative disciplines? And is it possible to overcome the crises of the humanities? The present article addresses these questions and aims to offer a solution to the crisis of the humanities. My proposal can be summed up with the proposition that humanity and textualities are ubiquitous. In what follows, I analyze the concepts of "humanity" and "text" studied within the humanities and show how these two notions can be extended. These analyses enable us to welcome the Humanities 2015, 4 887 successes of the quantitative understanding of human experiences on the one hand, while ensuring the continuing relevance of the humanities and texts on the other. 2. Ubiquitous Humanity 2.1. The Ubiquity of Humanity: Asking a Question What concept or concepts of "humanity" are the humanities assumed to advance? Dictionary definitions of this term refer to all people in the world, feelings of fellowship, kindness, and values to promote and safeguard the preservation of human life and dignity. These dictionary definitions are helpful to a certain extent, but they can also be challenged in a variety of ways. How do we know that the concept of "humanity" really means those things? Can we observe such a thing as humanity? How is it that all human beings can agree with those dictionary definitions? What is the mechanism behind this marvelous consensus despite the different cultural backgrounds that exist in this world? A single hypothesis, I suggest, provides answers to each of the foregoing questions. The hypothesis is that human languages reflect how we humans think of ourselves, and all humans who are capable of using a language are bound to accept the understanding of humanity which language presupposes. In other words, human language is a mirror of humanity1. I will begin the argument for this hypothesis by considering the notion of a question2. A two-year-old child asks her mother, "What is this?" Her mother answers, "It is a puppy." The child asks, "What is a puppy?" The mother answers her child again, but each response from the mother generates a further question from the child. What do the child's questions show? What is the difference of the child before the questions she asks and after the answers she receives? One account of the difference is as follows. Before the question, what the child refers to by means of the indexicial term "this" may have no meaning and no relation to other terms she uses, but after the question and the answer "this" comes to have a relation with other terms and becomes a meaningful object. Though what was denoted by "this" before the question and the answer was merely an indefinite x, it becomes a concrete object of meaning in the child's conceptual world after the question and answer. So the child's conceptual system is enriched through the process of questioning and answering, and in this sense the child enters into a preferable position in comparison to her original state. The child's question resembles the philosophical tradition in which a question (τί ἐστι) is asked of an object or a concept. For example, a number of people can talk about a thing in different ways, but as people keep asking the ti esti question, there emerges a concept or a definition of it ([6], pp. 17–19). The child is extending her conceptual world by asking questions while not knowing the meaning of 1 The idea that human language is a mirror of humanity is nothing new. When Aristotle said that humans are rational, Chomsky that language is innate, and Wittgenstein that humans play a language game, one may see the idea behind their remarks. What I try to do here with the idea is to show through an analysis of the notion of question that humans are themselves active agents who connect language and humanity; that humans, language, and humans are necessarily integrated with each other; and that the presence of one indicates the presence of the other two. 2 There are various discussions about the notion of a question. For example, G. Stahl proposed that the meaning of a question is a set of correct answers ([4], pp. ix–xvii), C. H. Kahn was leaning toward a view that questions are attempts to categorize human experiences ([5], pp. 227–78). But I tried here to go further to relate the notion of question both to the notions of language and humanity. Humanities 2015, 4 888 words like "concept" or "essence". Questions extend not only speakers' conceptual worlds but also human relationships and solidarity. One can generalize from this claim by saying that any question exhibits humanity as human relationality, which is embedded in the very structure of the languages that human communities have constructed3. "How much is this?" "Would you discount these items?" What does this bargaining over prices reveal? On the surface, the bargaining suggests that the buyer and the seller are trying to reach a point that is commercially beneficial to each of them. But, on a deeper level, the bargaining may be taken as an act of human solidarity based on the structure of the market as well as a shared system of linguistic communication. Citizens are both consumers and producers, and there are procedures where wants and desires can be met through exchanges of various sorts. Most of the bargaining we engage in manifests humanity as human relationality arising out of human communities. Bargaining is a means of achieving a mutual benefit, an important element of humanity. Concrete questions extend the meanings of terms and realms of freedom. They also exemplify the humanity of the questioner. But how are questions related to the character and development of communities of language users? Questions generally originate from an intellectual position or attitude that refuses to accept all things as they are and instead doubts the relations, meanings, essences or properties of things. A dog accepts the world with which it is presented whereas a young child investigates his or her surroundings by asking questions. Speakers imagine alternatives when they do not accept things as they are given. Questions are acts through which one tries to go beyond what is given. Organized systems tend to be autonomous, self-sufficient, and self-preserving, whereas questions can be critical of systems or their parts. Tyrannical power wants to preserve systems whereas questions seek to transcend systems. Freedom is a conceptual space where one experiences the possibility of an alternative to the present world. A "given system" may be either natural or artificial. All systems are open to questioning. A natural system is one that seeks to understand what is naturally given and to explain the relation between humans and the environment. An artificial system, such as a legal or administrative system, even when constructed with benevolent intentions, tends to end up oppressing weaker members of a society. Questions may be directed with good intentions even toward those benevolent systems in order to attend to their inconveniences or oppressive tendencies. Questions are the seeds of greater freedom. Questions can be categorized into various branches according to the idea of a division of labor and efficiency. When we ask questions about natural and social phenomena so as to give them more meaning and to unify them in a new way, we glimpse a wider and freer world than that which we embraced before the question. We may grasp our place in the natural and social order. Though human beings appear to be atomized individuals, they are in fact born into social worlds with important ties to other human beings. Questions raised by the natural and social sciences are not essentially different 3 Sangkyu Shin and Ae-Ryung Kim [7] have raised objections to my attempt to connect the ubiquitous humanity thesis to the notion of language use. Kim suggests that the connection may depend on a choice of values stemming from a certain usage of language, and Shin observes that the connection would be circular unless the two theses of ubiquitous humanity and language use are independently defended. The two criticisms are plausible. However, human beings cannot escape from the languages into which they are placed; they are bound to construct the nature of their own relationships through linguistic communication. Therefore, their apparent choice of values and the logic of integration between humanity and language are interwoven in the natural history of their evolution. Humanities 2015, 4 889 from those considered in the humanities in that questions are formulated in systems of languages with the purpose of extending the meaning of our world and attaining the conceptual space in which humans can be freer. 2.2. The Notion of Humanity The foregoing can be summarized as follows: all concrete questions ultimately shed light on humanity because of the way in which questions are related to languages. This provides some understanding of questions in general, where notions of reflection, criticism, transcendence, possibility, alternatives, and freedom are all interrelated. Thus, I propose the following as a deeper definition of humanity: it is the disposition by which one realizes oneself and others into a wholesome4 being and extends human solidarity and world integration by the means of pursuing better alternatives to oppressive systems. Humanity is ubiquitous in the use of language and the integration of human activity. It is not something that can be added to language use; it is inherent in all linguistic acts, including simple greetings and complex negotiations. We may now consider the ontological aspects of humanity. It used to be said that size and weight are primary qualities and that color and fragrance are secondary, but then what kind of quality is humanity? I think that humanity is a property or a power to seek liberation from the state of oppression, boredom, or negativity in general. This is not an eventual property, such as a donation or wedding, nor an active property, such as a choice or a kicking. Humanity is a dispositional property like kindness; it is also an intellectual property, such as coming to know another person. When we say that "Miss Park is humane" we refer to the ways in which her life manifests the value of humanity more or less consistently rather than to some particular events5. Humanity is also the power of semantic ascent. Let us consider the bargaining process once again. When a buyer accepts the information on the price tag of an article she is positive toward the frame of the seller. At that point two systems of the buyer and the seller are compatible and the buyer may purchase the item without any need to bargain. But when the buyer thinks that the designated price is too high, the thought is an act of disagreeing with a part of the frame presented by the seller. Then the buyer may seek to negotiate for a better price. When the buyer thinks that the price of an item is too high, she removes herself from the seller's frame. She transcends one system to another. This transcendence can also be called "semantic ascent" in the sense that two systems are constructed of linguistic meanings and are related in a way that the move has a direction. 4 The expression "wholesome" can be understood under the concept of integration which has been developed by the ideas like fitting and integration given in footnotes 4 and 10. For the time being, one sense of the term would be sufficient when the term applies to objects of art. The notion of an object of art is itself in need of explanation. One suitable definition, which comes from Yunhui Park ([8], pp. 249–59) is that of "a possible unique world". On this characterization, "possible" designates a modality where there is a property of freer space. "Unique" refers to a property of construction which is creative, autonomous, and independent. And "world" indicates that an art object is not an independent subject but part of a system of objects that require interpretation. 5 In the present context of the discussion of humanity I limited myself to the boundary of humanity where natural languages are accessible. One may extend the discussion to the wider context where humanity may be taken to be seen as an ecological property ([9], pp. 163–82). Humanities 2015, 4 890 We can generalize from this by saying that human imagination is linguistic and indicative of semantic assent. For example, when a father orders his daughter to return home by a certain time and the daughter rejects her father's demands, rule enforcement and rule disobedience come into conflict, but the wise daughter translates the language of these two events into two different language systems by a semantic ascent, where a system of rule enforcement and a system of rule disobedience can be compared. Then, the conceptual distance between the two systems allows father and daughter to reflect on, and discuss, what kinds of values are given priority in each system and why. Negotiations over the price of goods in a marketplace do not arise merely from differences of opinion about the appropriate price for certain goods; they arise from differences between the buyer's frame of purchasing power and the seller's frame of balance sheets. Generally speaking, people may be in a better position to enter into dialogue with others as they come to understand the differences between their systems and those of others in terms of idiosyncratic values, presuppositions, rules, and purposes as opposed to the objectification of persons and objects6. 2.3. Intervening Non-Humanity There is one serious objection to the thesis of the ubiquity of humanity: How can one defend the thesis of ubiquitous humanity in the face of the despotic tyrannies of absolute monarchs and dictators past and present? They are not the only ones who are against humanity. People can fall into situations in which they act against humanity without any intention to do so, especially when they live in a society filled with prejudicial stereotypes. As D. Kahneman ([11], pp. 377–85) points out, people are caring when they engage in the slow-thinking of deliberation but are often selfish when engaged in the fast-thinking of action and judgement. When people must think quickly, they are predisposed to act irrationally and without humanity. In other words, even though I seek to actualize humanity, elements of non-humanity deep inside me sometimes rise to the surface. When I engage in fast-thinking I can be a victim of egoism, nepotism, lookism, and other forms of prejudice or discrimination. In this 6 Quine's notion of semantic ascent is used here to shed light on the concept of humanity ([10], pp. 270–76). Ontologically factual statements like "there are unicorns in Tasmania" are interpreted as statements such as "there are biological species of which the predicate 'being a unicorn' is true." A story of unclear objects is turned into a story of clear vocabularies. Quine goes further to say that existence is the value of a bound variable. His goal was to explain the unclear notion of existence in terms of the clear grammar of a language. This notion of semantic ascent is useful in the context of humanity. For humanity can be grasped as a power to achieve the value of freedom out of a given states of affairs. Humans are exposed to intrusion and the dominion of non-humanity. Non-humanity emerges not only in the context of violence, oppression, and the objectification of persons, but also in the background deterioration of the global environment. Semantic ascent in the context of this non-humanity means an effort to turn the conditions of objectified human lives into the conditions of a better order of the grammar of a language. This effort includes among other descriptions of those negative human conditions, clarifications of the shared objectives of a community, critical evaluations of the present negative predicaments, comparisons among alternative directions, dialogues towards a consensus. This effort involves linguistic deliberations and communal communication, elevating a perspective from one dimensional physical surroundings to a higher multi-dimensional conceptual levels. Such semantic ascent attempts to strengthen human solidarity or to extend our understanding of the worlds around us. The application of semantic ascent to the context of humanity may look non-Quinean to some, but it is useful for the purposes of this article. Humanities 2015, 4 891 fast-paced age of information-processing, people are easily trapped in inclinations toward non-humanity ([2], pp. 42–47). How could a proponent of the ubiquitous humanity thesis respond to this challenge concerning the ways in which non-humanity interferes with people's lives? What is the relationship between the two? Of course, humanity and non-humanity exhibit opposing values. Humanity exhibits the value of the expansion of freedom, which is characterized by words like dream, fly, leap, possibility, liberation, and communication, whereas non-humanity displays the value of restricting freedom, which is described by terms such as boredom, solitude, silence, impersonality, constraint, and oppression7. Fortunately, in the contemporary period there is more space for humanity than non-humanity. This is perhaps because the pursuit of humanity is more consistent with the grammar of communication among free and equal agents. As the transparent grammar of dialogue has been further implanted in society, humanity has evolved to adopt this grammar as its constitutive element. 3. Ubiquitous Textuality 3.1. Text and Context As we have seen in the foregoing, humanity is typically exhibited in the context of questions and answers, but if humanity is ubiquitous it should emerge wherever languages are properly used. For example, humanity is demonstrated when I make a promise by saying "Let's meet next Tuesday"; or when pastor proclaims "John and Mary are now husband and wife." The promise and the proclamation in these instances are typical of institutional humanity. These present humanity by the force of human institutions. The promise to meet is a catalyst for a sort of human bonding, whatever the purpose of the meeting may be, and the wedding proclamation is not a description of a fact but an act of constructing a beautiful human bond. In this sense, these are examples of the presentation of humanity. The bargaining that takes place in a marketplace, as we have noted, is also a case of institutional humanity. My claim that humanity is present wherever language is properly used depends, strictly speaking, on the institution of language. But humanity need not to be restricted to verbal languages. Humanity may well be non-verbal. The hypothesis that humanity can be non-verbal requires a supporting argument. In order to understand meaning, one may turn to theories of language use rather than to theories of reference8. This may help to shed light on the distinction between text and context, since understanding verbal text consists of taking into account various elements of the context in which the remark is made. Ideal languages or theories of pure rationalism judge that the semantic properties of propositions can and must be determined independently of speakers and contexts. But this perspective is no longer considered plausible in contemporary theories of language meaning. In all ordinary languages, especially in 7 As for notions like silence and solitude, I will make a distinction between the positive ones and the negative ones. The positive ones are those which enhance human potentialities, being derived from one's own choice and initiation, whereas the negative ones are those which hinder human possibilities, coming from other than one's own freedom. 8 The reason why one turns to theories of language use rather than to theories of reference should be obvious. For I happen to believe that there is no fact of the matter on which the meaning of an expression can depend on, as Kripke ([12], pp. 1–54) has shown. Humanities 2015, 4 892 languages such as Korean and Chinese, context plays an important role in the interpretation and understanding of the text9. For example, the subject or object of a sentence is easily omitted in context in several Asian languages, and there are many homophones in most languages. Yet these facts pose no trouble for people communicating in specific contexts since speakers rely on context to fix the interpretation of their statements10. 3.2. Non-Verbal Language Let us now consider further the hypothesis that textuality is ubiquitous. Words are not the only elements of language; the arts, images, and gestures also comprise a kind of language. Gestures, for instance, are the building blocks of body language. They have a communal meaning ([11], pp. 434–39). However, body language is restricted in two ways. One is the limitation of variations of bodily expressions, and the other is the limitation of communicative objectivity. As an illustration, there is a Korean legend in which the hero says to the heroine, "I want to lay a silver (binyeo) hairpin to your head." The meaning of the gesture is not determined solely by his intention but also by the background understanding within the speaker's community. Those who are not familiar with the forms of life of this community might take the gesture as an expression of compassion rather than as a request for marriage11. 9 There are various notions of context, many of which are slippery. The concept of context my argument relies on is a modal notion which was constructed by R. C. Stalnaker ([13], pp. 96–114), where (i) contexts are all the situations which speakers recognize during their discourses; (ii) assertions are a kind of proposals to change contexts through exchange of information of situations; and (iii) if a world is all the situations there are then if a possible world wi were materialized then wi is all the situations given to speakers in that world. 10 Another example that connects text and context is found in the claim that the meaning of an expression is the way in which it is used. The idea of "the way in which an expression is used" can be grasped by the notion of fitting ([14], pp. 420–39). The conception of fitting, like those of other value terms, can be thought of as having temporal stages of evolution in the following 6 steps: (i) All animals have likes and dislikes. They like what is useful for their survival and dislike what is not; (ii) Animals might not have the power of recognition in the initial stages of their evolution. It could be that dogs could recognize their masters only after a long process of cognitive development. A dog's recognition may be explained by its capacity to fittingly adjust to contexts rather than a simple theory of truth semantics. In the beginning, dogs might not be able to discriminate their masters from others. But as they meet their masters repeatedly they come to recognize their masters. Acquaintance might be related with qualities which are useful for their survival. It can be said that dogs have come to discriminate what is fitting from what is not; (iii) Human beings construct habits of fitting by employing the criterion of fitting which they have learnt through acquaintance with their environments, habits fitting for their survival. Habits are not only convenient but also efficient, not only economically but also mechanically; (iv) When habits are constructed, the relation of fitting for the habits becomes a value. Habits supervene on the structure of likes and dislikes, and typify the structure; (v) When habits are shared by a sufficient number of people, a community arises out of the shared values. Some human beings build a community as they are gregarious according to their shared values of fitting; (vi) As the form of life in this community includes a communal effort to communicate with each other, means for the communication obtains some communal meaning. The notion of fitting provides a basis for the hypothesis that texts are ubiquitous, that text and context are continuous, not fundamentally separable. 11 The notion of gestures as languages may be generalized to the notion of states of affairs as languages ([2], pp. 14–15). States of affairs are informative. For example, consider the fact that a magnetic stick attracts iron filings. Physicalism would hold that the magnetic stick and the iron filings have merely passive properties whereas dispositionalism would assert that they have active powers; they interact with each other to manifest the result of their permeabilities. The Humanities 2015, 4 893 Arts too are languages. One can compare verbal languages with paintings or dances [15]. Verbal language is a language based on the logic of finitely differentiated and disjointed characters and hence can be used as the basis of a reasoning language. On the other hand, the language of painting or of dance lacks what a verbal language has but can depict what is felt toward an object by denotation if not by representation [16]12. 3.3. Film Language Many films are non-verbal, yet I suggest that films too are languages. So the idea that whatever is non-verbal is not a language is crucial to the above thesis. What is a film? Turvey introduces the paradox of film by saying that a viewer believes that what she sees does not exist and yet she responds to it emotionally. In order to solve the paradox there have been attempts to explain it by appealing to notions like recognition, imagination, transparency, and illusion. Allen's notion of depiction is interesting in this context ([18], pp. 76–94; [19], pp. 431–57). When we look at a film, patterns of colors are spread out on a screen. However, what we see is not the patterns of colors but what the film depicts. What we see in the film is not an object itself, nor an illusion, but rather aspects of objects. What we emotionally react to in a film is neither a thought nor our imagination but rather a filmic depiction of the denotation of a fiction. Allen's view of depiction seems to be an adaptation to film of the notion of aspectual seeing found in Wittgenstein's writings ([20], Par. 74, 79). Someone might see her own father in the formation of clouds; another might see that her youngest brother resembles her mother. When she sees her father she does not see her father himself but rather sees someone who is small in height, white haired, or talking in an idiosyncratic way. Aspectual seeing cannot be described by a mere enumeration of the physical properties of an object. Aspectual seeing cannot be directly represented nor pointed to in terms of physical properties. Aspects can be non-physical, invisible, or abstract. Seeing a film is seeing what is depicted in the film as in perceiving what is seen aspectually13. A theory of film language can be derived14 from discussions of painting language or the language of states of affairs by adding some auxiliary premises. Candidates for such premises include some of the observations given by Lev Marnovich15 and Chris Marker, such as "seeing a film depends on film properties of the magnetic stick and iron filings and the powers that they have are one and the same; they are organic, integrational, and informative. If information is lingual, then so too are states of affairs. 12 J. Margolis ([17], pp. 376–89) is critical of S. Langer who says that dance is a language. However, Margolis's arguments are not persuasive ([15], pp. 95–99). For he requires that arts are a language only if arts consist of a convention of rules and there is a symmetry between the presentational symbolism of arts and emotional symbolism of arts, and he thinks that Langer fails to provide the necessary condition, but his notion of arts language is too representational to accommodate. 13 One may relate a filmic seeing with Wittgenstein's notion of aspectual seeing ([20], pp. 193–214). When we look at a particular person in a room, all of us can see propositionally that the person is a man, whereas many of us can see aspectually that the person is kind or that the person is not kind. Aspects of an object are neither physical, nor representational. 14 Sung Yong Kang [21] worries that this sort of language expansion program may hinder language quantification and, furthermore, that it may require that we classify all non-truth functional languages as other than normal or ordinary. This observation would raise a serious objection if one were to hold a truth-conditional semantics. However, the fitting semantics that I endorse grants meanings not only to verbal expressions but also non-verbal expressions. 15 These are some of the statements Lev Manovich delivered in his lectures in Seoul [22]. Humanities 2015, 4 894 writing," "a film is the joining of cartoon cuts with a story," and "a film is a collection of photographs with a story." One can add to this the phenomenological perception theory about film ([23], pp. 182–209). 4. Textuality of Humanities 4.1. Denotation of Classic Humanity Humanity is exemplified in many different ways, but the paradigmatic exemplifications are found in the classics. So let us ask "What is a classic?" Webster's dictionary defines the word "classic" by listing three elements, namely, being of the highest quality, having permanent value, and attracting enduring interest. The dictionary does not explain how these elements are chosen, but I suggest that they are chosen from the perspective of exemplifying humanity. So a work of art, music, or literature is called "classic" if and only if it is of the highest quality, has permanent value, and attracts enduring interest so far as it exemplifies our humanity. It is in this sense that the three conditions are necessary and sufficient for a text to be a classic. The dictionary codifies the term in a way that presupposes that human beings live in a single conceptual world. While a text may be useful in one culture and not in another, a classic is thought to be a classic across all cultures. What this means is that all classics contribute to the formation and preservation of humanity. One can say that our humanity is nothing but the result of the construction of those classics understood as the tradition of crystalized human experiences. This concept of the classics is consistent not only with the present formulation of humanity-that is, a total disposition to realize not only oneself but also all others into a wholesome being by extending human solidarity and world integration in pursuit of better possibilities against oppressive systems-but also with the present stipulation concerning texts, namely, that a text is an exemplification of humanity. Suppose that there were no classics in the history of mankind. If so, what kind of human community would there be? The human community without classics might not have been the community which values notions of reason, justice, freedom, republic, and the like which are marks of humanity and which we have known. It is through classics human beings have, over the course of the last several millennia, constructed higher and higher levels of humanity. So the initial supposition above is not true. Classics have been meaningful and necessary; they are the basis of the culture humans enjoy and are still in the process of developing. It is the classics that are responsible for the human community that currently exists, a human community with the value of humanity. The dictionary definition of "classic" is based on a quantitative approach, which can be examined empirically, rather than a qualitative understanding concerned with the content of a concept. So let us ask "What are the powerful contents of classics that converge empirically on the foregoing three conditions?" I suggest that the classics consist of these four elements: humanity, systems, knowledge, and questions. These content conditions are different from the aforementioned empirical conditions in that the former are, while the latter are not, distinct from each other and each of them admits of degrees ranging from 0 to 1. The three conditions of systems, knowledge, and questions provide neither necessary nor sufficient conditions for being a classic. However, the condition of humanity is necessary, but not sufficient for a work to be a classic. Humanities 2015, 4 895 Let us therefore reconsider the condition of humanity. All the classics involve human lives or a human understanding of the world. Some of them deal with human life directly, through stories, others do it indirectly with abstract interpretations of human experiences. They all shed light on conditions of human existence and thereby enable readers to approach truths about humanity. Readers are sometimes excited by the classics and at other times saddened or enraged by them. They reflect on these stories of the past and envision lives in the future. Most of the classics are stories of possible, rather than actual, worlds, yet they enable people to communicate with each other more personally and more profoundly. They extend the world of meaning and freedom. This condition of humanity is the key feature that ensures the empirical conditions of the classics converge on the four qualitative conditions mentioned above. In other words, the four empirical conditions are indicative of the hypothesis that the classics are essentially stories of humanity. Some of the classics display the characteristics of systems. Philosophical texts, such as The Critique of Pure Reason, histories like Democracy in America, and works of poetry like Four Quartets all have the character of systems. They contain their own perspectives by which they interpret the world. Each of them has a unique and consistent world view. If a reader accepts its world view, she becomes a citizen of that world and experiences the kind of freedom that world view has constructed. But if a reader comes to read Naming and Necessity, Ordinary Men, or The End and the Beginning, she would have an experience of yet a different world. Those who read many classics come to be open to a variety of perspectives about the same discipline or even subject. This kind of reading can be contrasted with exclusive or orthodox interpretations of religious canons. Orthodox readings do not allow for differences in interpretation. This kind of reading can be given, not only of religious texts, but also of other classics. Such a reader tries to preserve the internal rules the classic requires and then extends the boundary of that system to apply to other classics, but the best way of reading the classics is to respect the authenticity of each unique text. Almost all the classics have elements of knowledge. In the philosophical literature, knowledge has been understood in terms of justified true belief. One may add to these necessary conditions further conditions such as trust, naturalization, or causality ([24], pp. 282–83). The sense of "knowledge" associated with the classics may be a loose one, perhaps based on the conception of fitting, rather than the truth conditional notion of knowledge. While the latter demands a correlation between the quantity of knowledge and the quantity of truths, a looser notion of knowledge may hold that the amount of knowledge can be derived from the volume of interpretations ([25], pp. 5–30). When we engage in discussions about a subject, many conflicting interpretations allow for a bigger enrichment of experiences than just one single interpretation. It is also natural that readers of the classics experience many different ways to interpret the world rather than an increased volume of truths. We are often moved more by the heated discussions of academic meetings than by the painfully derived result. Likewise, reading the classics enriches our experiences of the world because of the possibility of multiple interpretations of the world. Furthermore, the classics contain the element of questions. It is what brings the classics to life in the present. Every classic starts with a question, even if it is not made explicit. If a classic is the telling of a story, one can ask why this is a story worth telling, and the contents of a classic generally unleash a stream of deeper questions. Readers are moved by a classic and the questions they inspire to address the present experience of them, reflecting on their present experiences and looking partially or wholly Humanities 2015, 4 896 into the future. These questions reward readers with a sense of joy and excitement, much like the excitement a young child experiences when asking questions16. 4.2. Humanity and Humanities I suggested above that humanity is a total disposition to realize not only oneself but also all others into a wholesome being by extending human solidarity and world integration in pursuit of better possibilities against oppressive systems. But how should one characterize "the humanities"? I propose that the humanities are the systematic deliberation of humanity or its results in a chosen discipline. The natural and social sciences take various quantitative approaches toward natural and social phenomena, whereas the humanities approach actual and possible human experiences qualitatively. As irrational numbers are not countable and yet they are real, subjective experiences are not countable and yet they are real in the space of human lives. Many problems in human societies can be studied quantitatively, but there are other problems that can be approached only qualitatively. Problems like alienation, suicide, environmental problems, political entanglements in the Middle East will not be solved in a quantifiable way, as through war, but are in need of qualitative solutions, such as those that take place in diplomacy. The nature of the humanities can be understood in terms of the theses of the ubiquity of humanity and textuality. The humanities, which are based on the present notion of humanity, become holistic according to their ubiquitous character. Thus, holistic humanities should be clearly distinguished from the traditional humanities, which have been understood institutionally. Institutional humanities generally include the disciplines of literature, history, philosophy, linguistics, and religion. When these disciplines are organized for administrative purposes within a university, those departments hold their own idiosyncratic subjects for professional studies. There are profound reasons to protect and defend the division of labor within colleges of humanities. These divisions mark the "divisional humanities". If the thesis of holistic humanities is plausible, the thesis points to what may be called "post-divisional humanities," in addition to divisional humanities. Accordingly, divisional humanities and post-divisional humanities are compatible and complementary, both accepting a general formulation of humanities, that is, that humanities are systematic studies of possible experiences of humanity going beyond the constraints of natural or social phenomena through verbal or non-verbal languages ([29], p. 22). Divisional humanities can scrutinize the importance of given disciplines with respect to the future, while post-divisional humanities may develop professional capacities to analyze, interpret, and communicate with those areas of newly emerging cultures17. 16 One may pay attention to one particular characteristic of my notion of denotation of classic humanity, that is, that my notion is pluralistic. But the notion of classic doesn't have to be in conflict with the notion of canon [26]. Teachers or institutions may come to favor a particular list of books or art works, depending on their choice of values or objectives, where consistency rules, as they were discussed by Bloom [27] and Searle [28]). Notions of classic and canon play at a different level, with classic working across various cultural traditions at a meta-level and with canon pointing to a particular direction at an object-level. 17 Ae-Ryung Kim [7] notes that humanity expressed through verbal texts may have a grammar that is different from the grammar of humanity conveyed through non-verbal texts. This is an important reminder. As literature, history, and philosophy have different grammars for revealing humanity in their own proper disciplines, it should be accepted that texts may contain different grammars according to whether the texts are verbal or not. This issue needs further consideration. Humanities 2015, 4 897 4.3. Divisional Humanities and Post-Divisional Humanities Ubiquitous humanity can be illustrated in other ways than through verbal texts. Therefore, the humanities should pay attention not only to classic verbal texts but also to the exemplifications of humanity in non-verbal texts. The fine arts and performing arts provide demonstrations of humanity through non-verbal languages. The performing arts break down the boundaries between the canvas and non-canvas, western paintings and non-western paintings, work and non-work, and act and result. Whereas traditional art work has been regarded as eternal in the sense that it is atemporal, the performing arts are necessarily in the present. While art work usually remains even after the artist disappears, a performing artist may proclaim "I myself am the work of art". A physical work of art, understood as a concrete universal, is replaced by a personal life with bodily meaning. Humanity conveyed through non-verbal texts allows us to see that the traditional distinction between theory and practice is no longer necessary. Traditional philosophical theories such as Platonic Idealism, Cartesian rationalism, or Kantian transcendentalism have assumed that there is one and only one correct interpretation of the world. Furthermore, it has been widely assumed that ordinary language is incomplete and unable to develop into an ideal theory. However, the linguistic turn of the 20th century led philosophers to change the units of thoughts from ideas to sentences, giving systems clear criteria by which to be judged, namely, the truth or falsity of sentences. Any sentence originates from a particular system and can be judged as true or false according to rules of the system. An ordinary language is a form of life for a community and there are various sorts of communities: horizontal communities (e.g., natural languages) and vertical communities (e.g., artificial languages). Pluralism of both communities and systems is the inevitable result. Theories are regarded as heuristic tools to explain a concrete problem at hand. There is more than one system for explaining the world fittingly. Theories are systems of partial explanations and ordinary languages are systems for understanding holistic experiences. Practices are understood as the actualization of maxims derived from a particular theory. Thus, there is a division of labor where scholars investigate theories and activists engage in practices. While participation in practice without a theory is blind, studying theories without practice is empty. But the boundary between theory and practice has been weakened due to semantics. Traditionally, language meaning was taken to lie in the space of the relation between an expression and an object. The so-called "referential theories" have been influential in explaining the notion of truth. However, this tradition has been challenged by claims that there is no fact of the matter to ground the meaning of an expression in external things and that meaning is actually rooted in the forms of life of a community. The meaning of an expression is the way in which the expression is used by the community. Accordingly, the boundary between theory and practice has never been there independently of a community and the distinction is merely a convenient fiction. If there is no boundary between theory and practice, then one can support non-verbal textualities of humanity while still upholding verbal textualities, for the continuity between theory and practice bears continuity between the verbal and non-verbal. One may rightly ask for a clarification of the relation between divisional humanities and post-divisional humanities. Since the classics are the paradigmatic forms of humanity, literature, history, philosophy, linguistics, and religion have roles to play as divisional humanities, although they Humanities 2015, 4 898 need to be strengthened to meet the needs of the times. The theses of ubiquitous humanity and ubiquitous textuality do not limit humanity to verbal texts alone. The ubiquities of humanity and textuality direct intellectuals to go beyond the boundaries between divisional humanities and to attend to the humanity revealed in non-verbal texts. There is a profound need for post-divisional humanities. As such, one can attempt to fuse various topics from each of the divisional humanities into one great subject or to construct topics of humanity revealed in non-verbal texts systematically into a unique subject. There are various multi-dimensional categories by which one can mix many emerging themes. Topics like image, communication, body, death, nature, city, technology, artificial life, mind-extension, and trans-humanity can be approached either through divisional humanities or post-divisional humanities. The more explanations there are, the brighter the future is for both the humanities as well as humanity18. 5. Human Solidarity 5.1. Humanity and Anthropology Each of the various types of humanity has its own unique anthropology. The Confucian notion of humanity comes from its belief in the edifying powers of education. The ancient Greek view of education, with its emphasis on virtue and citizenship within the city-state, offers a different notion of humanity. The Renaissance offers yet another notion of humanity based on the use of reason in daily life. In the contemporary period, humanity is generally understood in terms of the minimum of what is legally and socially required of citizens. All of the traditional humanities pursued the question "What is genuine humanity?" but each did so according to its own unique anthropology, such as the humanity of the noble man, the humanity of a free citizen, the humanity of freedom, or the humanity of minimal duties. What those traditions sought can be compared with integrational humanity, that is, the thesis that humanity is a total disposition to realize not only oneself but also all others into a wholesome being by extending human solidarity and world integration in pursuit of better possibilities against oppressive systems. The nobleman's humanity limited the concept of humanity to social integration whereas the humanity of a free citizen excluded others who were not free. The humanity of freedom did not examine its foundation for that freedom, while contemporary notions of humanity eschew all of the questions that enlightened people are supposed to ask. How does integrational humanity supplement the inadequacies of the traditional types of humanity? Each of the traditional humanities has attended to some particular aspect of humanity and therefore exhibits only partial humanity. The traditional humanities have not exhausted the wholesomeness of each anthropology; they are extemporaneous prescriptions suited to the needs of their times. But integrational humanity is a wholesome humanity arising out of a universalized anthropology. It was 18 The distinction between divisional and post-divisional humanities is relative to the ways the institutions of colleges of humanities are operated. The distinction is arbitrary and needs to be adjusted appropriately to the situation where various needs of institutions may arise. We may recognize one general division of labor where traditional humanities are engaged in verbal texts and contemporary humanities in non-verbal texts. Institutions called "college" and "center" may be allowed to have separate roles to play in this division of labor. Humanities 2015, 4 899 previously analyzed19 in terms of the proposition that realizations of myself and of all others are one and the same [30]. Then the notion of ubiquitous humanity can be given more clearly, by saying that it can be materialized easily when questions are properly asked in languages and answers are well provided in societies and thereby when one's realization is integrated with realizations of all others. This integrational anthropology sheds light on some of the debates concerning liberalism and communalism20. 5.2. Liberalism vs. Communalism J. S. Mill presented a unique formulation of what human beings are when he constructed his liberalism: the properties of human beings in a society are derived from the laws of human nature and whatever can be reduced to those laws [32]. C. Taylor is critical of the idea that human beings are self-sufficient independently of society, the idea that is implied by liberalism based on the atomic view of human individuals [33]. Mill's liberalism can be traced back21 to Luther's notion of the solitary man (Der Einzelne) reaching salvation through faith alone (sola fide) [35] and Descartes' identification of the soul with the "I" in "I think therefore I am." Liberalism can be used to protect the rich, on the assumption that ownership of private property is a form of freedom ([36], pp. 209–40), but it can also be used to defend the poor by insisting that socio-economic inequalities should be arranged so as to benefit the least-advantaged members of society ([37], pp. 5–6, 302). But both of these versions of liberalism prioritize the rights of atomic individuals. Communalism adopted the Aristotelian perspective that human beings are social animals or political beings. Humans may appear to be separate beings but their thoughts, actions, habits, and values are embodied in a social setting. Therefore, a community is constructed out of acquaintances, habits, shared memories, and space. Moral judgments or political actions on this view are to be judged on the 19 The analysis of the proposition which is expressed by the Chinese sentence 成己成物 can be summed up as follows. This anthropology is based on the idea of integration (誠) of The Doctrine of the Mean. The conception of integration consists of the following five propositions ([30,31]): (i) The integration of a thing is the property of the thing to realize the principles of the thing that are connected with the principles of all others; (ii) "Mind" denotes the power of all things to process information; (iii) Integration is the power of minds, not only of human beings, but also of all other things; (iv) If evolution reflects the history of the development of the present species then history shows the evolution of the intellects of those species and the justice of their forms of life; (v) The integration of a thing is a power to realize itself in the best possible way in a given situation. 20 Ae-Ryung Kim [7] claims that "the integrational anthropology that realizations of oneself and of all others are one and the same may be interpreted variously depending on a choice of a topographic map of anthropologies." What Kim means by this is that the theme of power, whether political or not, plays an important role in this context. Of course, the category of power needs to be analyzed in terms of concrete human experiences, but it is the priorities that need to be emphasized here. Human solidarity can be examined in two distinct senses. The relation of human-bonding is the primary sense in which human beings are never to be treated as mere means, whereas the division of labor provides a second sense in which it is practically difficult to treat persons as ends in themselves. This is discussed in more detail in Section 5.3. 21 The relation between Mill's liberalism and Luther's reformation theology can be seen in the following description: "Quite unintentionally, then, the Protestant reformers prepared the way for liberalism. By teaching that salvation comes through faith alone, Luther and the other reformers encouraged people to value individual conscience more than the preservation of unity and orthodoxy. Moving from individual conscience to individual liberty was still a radical step for the time, but it was a step that the early liberals took" ([34], pp. 51, 47–50). Humanities 2015, 4 900 basis of the standards of languages which members of a community construct as they interpret the worlds they experienced. Otherwise, evaluations would be empty, abstracted from the beliefs, practices, and institutions of the community. Rorty spoke of ethnocentrism using the example of how the US is bound to act on its interests [38], and Walzer claimed that the caste system in India may be justifiable by its own criteria ([39], p. 313). Lee Kuan Yew proclaimed that there is such a thing as "Asian values" and suggested a need to construct a Confucian communalism on the basis of the regional space, memory, and value ([40], pp. 121–49). How should one understand or reconcile the differences between liberalism and communalism? Both of them try to embrace individuals and societies, and both try to construct individual and social ethics. The terms "liberal communalism" and "communal liberalism" have been used to try to fuse these doctrines together, but in terms of their respective ontology and metaphysics, these doctrines are quite different. The choice of policies often depends on whether individuals are viewed as either atomic or social beings. Many academics avoid choosing between these options, preferring instead to be tolerant of both individuals and societies. This sort of stance may be politically safe, but it is conceptually unclear. If one strives to take care of the least advantaged members of society starting from the premise of atomic individuals, one's motivation may reflect a genuine human authenticity but one's judgement will not be persuasive. In a similar vein, if one attempts to make room for respect for individuals in the context of communalism, which derives from the premise of social humanity, the motivation may once again be sincere but the judgment will lack coherence. 5.3. Human Bonding and the Division of Labor Humans are relational beings. Ontological atomists like J. Locke and J. S. Mill admitted that human beings are socially related. Many relations among human beings, both in the West and the East, are institutionalized. In Korea, the Joseon Dynasty structured the positions of all men in the land and thereby defined the relation among human beings, classifying them into aristocrats, professionals, common people, and lowly men. In India, the caste system has been applied to all men, differentiating Brahman (priests), Kshatriya (aristocrats), Vaisya (merchants), Sudra (ordinary people), and Harijan (untouchables). Contemporary societies have overcome such hierarchies, at least formally if not perfectly, but have categorized all citizens in a division of labor according to their abilities. Societies have classified people in terms of their levels of education and occupations without institutionalizing them in terms of a hereditary mechanism. These positions are nevertheless used to determine one's identity and worth. Integrational anthropology offers an alternative to this idea that status should be based on anthropology. It distinguishes the relation of human solidarity into the relation of human bonding and the relations of the division of labor. The relations of the division of labor allow for one's status to be determined by the role one plays in society. These roles are important and need to be respected, but they are not the primary relations by which one's identity is determined, which are the relations of human bonding. The relations of human bonding are the relations individuals have to each other in virtue of being human. In this primary relation, people are viewed as ends in themselves rather than as means to further ends. This is the fundamental basis of the ethical principle that one should not do to others what one does not want done to oneself. Humanities 2015, 4 901 6. Conclusions: Ubiquities and Humanities I have in the foregoing argued that humanity and textuality are ubiquitous. I will conclude by commenting on some of the implication of these two theses. First, these two theses may help to overcome or narrow the gap between quantitative and qualitative disciplines. The quantitative methodologies of the natural and social sciences have achieved great results investigating the phenomena of nature and society. However, researchers working in the humanities have limited themselves to studying traditional verbal texts-the classics-and have largely ignored non-verbal texts. As a result, they have engaged only partially with the full phenomena of humanity. This explains the asymmetry in scope and success between the quantitative and qualitative disciplines. The quantitative disciplines are continually discovering new fields and expanding the scope of their studies, whereas traditional divisional humanities appear to be shrinking. However, the thesis of the ubiquity of humanity and textuality enlarges the scope of research for the humanities and helps to construct a post-divisional humanities. In doing so it reduces or eliminates the asymmetry between the sciences and the humanities. Second, these two theses shed light on the extent to which improper relations of humanity have skewed human history, for the idea that the relation of human bonding is prior to the relations of the division of labor has failed to embed itself in the lives of human beings. When individuals meet and greet each other they generally understand their identities and refer to each other in terms of their social roles or occupations, a practice that subjugates the relation of the human bond. In effect it is a convenient restoration of the caste system which was abolished by contemporary legal systems. A person who calls another according to his or her occupational role does not enter into the primary relation of the human bond but rather subjugates that relation to that of the division of labor. In order to ground the primacy of the relation of the human bond, new kinds of appellations are needed22. Finally, the central theses presented in this article may provide guidance on how systems of education should be reformed or transformed. In the past, educated people were expected to strive toward the three ideals of truth, goodness, and beauty, but education in the contemporary world should cultivate an appreciation, not only of verbal texts, but also non-verbal texts, and universities should therefore develop programs to achieve that pedagogical goal. On the one hand, Colleges of the Humanities should strengthen each of the disciplines within the traditional divisional humanities. On the other hand, Centers for the Humanities can institutionalize subjects, topics, or themes of contemporary post-divisional humanities, both for the purposes of teaching as well as for research. If researchers and educators working with the humanities are not sensitive to these newly emerging challenges, commercial sectors of societies may take control of subjects like philosophy for the production and consumption of non-verbal texts. It would be much more desirable for those in the humanities to help to develop the commercial sectors of society in the area of the non-verbal cultures. Just as natural and social sciences have been leading in efforts toward the betterment of the world, the 22 Sung Yong Kang [21] observed that it would be easy to accept the idea that the relation of the human bond is primary, although it would be difficult to institutionalize it. Of course, an individual may look powerless, but through communication individuals can realize the value of their collective intentionality. Studies of appellations in English and French may help in this regard, since acquaintances call each other by their first names, especially between parents and children, and between teachers and students. Humanities 2015, 4 902 humanities can and should explore the ever-expanding horizon of ubiquitous language and humanity so that we may introduce another new age of civilization where all human beings are free and fulfilled. Acknowledgments Earlier drafts of this paper were read to the Korean Society for Art & Humanities Education (8 August 2014) and the Humanities Korea Co-Symposium of Seoul National University and Ewha Womans University (7 October 2014). For their helpful comments and constructive criticisms I thank the participants of those meetings, including the following: Sung Yong Kang, Ae-Ryung Kim, Jin Hee Kim, Samgeun Kwak, Chong-Hyon Paek, Sangkyu Shin, Ki-Jeong Song, Hye-Gyung Yi. I am also grateful to John McGuire for helpful guidance in improving the content and the readability of an earlier draft of this paper. Finally, Trans-Humanities, a Korean journal, where the Korean version of the present article was published in Vol. 8 No. 2 (2015) by Ewha Institute for the Humanities in Seoul, Korea allowed me to have a copyright for its English version to submit to Humanities. Anonymous reviewers of the present article for Humanities acutely helped me to improve clarifications for its arguments, balance, and objective. Conflicts of Interest The author declares no conflict of interest. References 1. Habermas, Jürgen. The Philosophical Discourse of Modernity. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1987. 2. Chung, Daihyun. "Reference Naturalized in Yinyang Ontology." Cheolhak 120 (2014): 27–52. 3. Church, George, and Ed Regis. Regenesis: How Synthetic Biology Will Reinvent Nature and Ourselves. New York: Basic Books, 2012. 4. Hiz, Henry. "Introduction." In Questions. Edited by Henry Hiz. Dordrecht: Reidel, 1978. 5. Kahn, Charles. H. "Questions and Categories." In Questions. Edited by Henry Hiz. Dordrecht: Reidel, 1978. 6. Chung, Daihyun. This Spoken Thus: Pluralistic Realism. Seoul: Sechang, 2013. 7. Ae-Ryung Kim's discussions. Available online: http://ioh.snu.ac.kr/bbs/board.php?bo_table= symposium&wr_id=35&auto_login=1 javascript:file_download('./download.php? (accessed on 1 February 2015). 8. Park, Ynhui. "The Self-Deconstructive Process of Art as a Form of Reconstruction of the World." In The Crisis of Civilization and Asian Response. Seoul: Seoul National University Press, 2012. 9. Naess, Arne. Ecology, Community and Lifestyle: Outline of an Ecoophy. Translated by David Rothenberg. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989. 10. Quine, Willard van Orman. Word and Object. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1960. 11. Kahneman, Daniel. Thinking, Fast and Slow. London: Allen Lane, 2011. 12. Kripke, Saul A. Wittgenstein on Rules and Private Language. Oxford: Blackwell, 1982. 13. Stalnaker, Robert. "On the Representation of Context." In Context and Content. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999. Humanities 2015, 4 903 14. Chung, Daihyun. Philosophy of Fitting: Toward a Theory of Truth and Meaning. Seoul: Cheolhakgwa Hyeonsilsa, 1997. 15. Chung, Daihyun. "Lingualism in Graham's Night Journey." The Korean Journal of Dance Studies 27 (2009): 95–115. 16. Goodman, Nelson. Languages of Art: An Approach to a Theory of Symbols. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1976. 17. Margolis, Joseph. "Dance as Language." In What is Dance? Edited by Roger Copeland and Marshall Cohen. New York: Oxford UP, 1983, pp. 376–89. 18. Allen, Richard. "Looking at Motion Pictures." In Film Theory and Philosophy. Edited by Richard Allen and Murray Smith. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997, pp. 76–94. 19. Turvey, Malcolm. "Seeing Theory." In Film Theory and Philosophy. Edited by Richard Allen and Murray Smith. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997, pp. 431–57. 20. Ludwig Wittgenstein. Philosophical Investigations. New York: Macmillan, 1953. 21. Sung Yong Kang's discussions. Available online: http://ioh.snu.ac.kr/bbs/board.php?bo_table= symposium&wr_id=35&auto_login=1javascript: file_download (accessed on 1 February 2015). 22. Workshop on Digital Culture, Korea Culture Research Institute, Ewha Womans University, Seoul, South Korea. 1999. Available online: www.ewha.ac.kr/mbs/ewhaen/subview.jsp?id=ewhaen _040301010700 (accessed on 15 June 2015). 23. Lee, Jongkwan. Cyberculture and Temptation of Art. Seoul: Moonye, 2003. 24. Kim, Kihyeon. Contemporary Epistemology. Seoul: Minumsa, 2011. 25. Ko, Insuk. "Feyerabend's critique of Popperian Rationality of Science: Meaning of the Theory Proliferation." Beomhancheolhak 28 (2003): 5–30. 26. The notion of classic. Available online: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Western_canon (accessed on 15 June 2015). 27. Bloom, Harold. The Western Canon: The Books and School of the Ages. New York: Riverhead Books, 1995. 28. Searle, John R. "The Storm over the University." In The New York Review of Books. New York: The New York Times, 1990. 29. Chung, Daihyun, Ynhui Park, Jong-Ho Yoo, Chiesou Kim, Joo Youn Kim, DukAe Chung, Gyu Sung Lee, and Seong-Man Choi. Humanity to Be Expressed. Seoul: Thinking Tree, 2000. 30. Chung, Daihyun. "Interconnected Realizations of Self and of All Others." Beomhancheolhak 36 (2005): 97–125. 31. Chung, Daihyun. "Integrationality(誠): From dualism to yinyang." Cheolhangnonjip 9 (2005): 73–88. 32. John Stuart Mill. Collected Works of John Stuart Mill. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1963, vol. 8, pp. 844–48. 33. Taylor, Charles. Philosophy and the Human Sciences: Philosophical Papers 2. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985, p. 309. 34. Ball, Terence, Richard Dagger, and Daniel I. O'Neill. Political Ideologies and the Democratic Ideal. North York: Pearson Education Canada, 2014, pp. 47–51. Humanities 2015, 4 904 35. Luther, Martin. "Commentary on Galatians." In Concordia Theological Monthly. Fort Wayne: Concordia Theological Seminary, 1955, p. 801. 36. Gaus, Gerald F. "Property, Rights, and Freedom." Social Philosophy and Policy 11 (1994): 209–40. 37. Rawls, John. A Theory of Justice. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993, p. 56. 38. Rorty, Richard. Objectivity. Relativism, and Truth: Philosophical Papers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991, vol. 1. 39. Walzer, Michael. Spheres of Justice: A Defense of Pluralism and Equality. New York: Basic Books, 1983. 40. Choi, Young Jin. "Issues on Modernization of Confucianism." In Issues on Korean Philosophy. Seoul: Cheolhakgwa Hyeonsilsa, 2000, pp. 121–49. © 2015 by the author; licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution license (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/).
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
© 2014. Cody Franchetti. This is a research/review paper, distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons AttributionNoncommercial 3.0 Unported License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/), permitting all non-commercial use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited. Global Journal of HUMAN-SOCIAL SCIENCE: D History Archaeology & Anthropology Volume 14 Issue 1 Version 1.0 Year 2014 Type: Double Blind Peer Reviewed International Research Journal Publisher: Global Journals Inc. (USA) Online ISSN: 2249-460x & Print ISSN: 0975-587X An Everlasting Antiquity: Aspects of Peter Brown's The World of Late Antiquity By Cody Franchetti IntroductionPeter Brown's influential book The World of Late Antiquity has had a formidable impact on ancient historiography. Before it, historians who studied the period leading to the deposition of Romolus Agustulus-the last Roman emperor-in 476 AD considered themselves 'classicists' or 'ancient historians', while those who studied the subsequent period called themselves medievalists; therefore before Brown's book the collapse of the Roman Empire remained the watershed date that brought upon the Middle Ages. It is not the task of this essay to trace the history of this conception, but to examine the assertions, merits, and faults of Peter Brown's book. Brown magnified, or more precisely, outright invented a new epoch: "[a number of elements] converged to produce that very distinctive period in European civilization-the Late Antique world". GJHSS-D Classification : FOR Code : 219999 AnEverlastingAntiquityAspectsofPeterBrownsTheWorldofLate Antiquity Strictly as per the compliance and regulations of: An Everlasting Antiquity: Aspects of Peter Brown's Cody Franchetti I. Introduction eter Brown's influential book The World of Late Antiquity has had a formidable impact on ancient historiography. Before it, historians who studied the period leading to the deposition of Romolus Agustulus-the last Roman emperor-in 476 AD considered themselves 'classicists' or 'ancient historians', while those who studied the subsequent period called themselves medievalists; therefore before Brown's book the collapse of the Roman Empire remained the watershed date that brought upon the Middle Ages. It is not the task of this essay to trace the history of this conception, but to examine the assertions, merits, and faults of Peter Brown's book. Brown magnified, or more precisely, outright invented a new epoch: "[a number of elements] converged to produce that very distinctive period in European civilization-the Late Antique world"1 Brown's book is essentially revisionist: it was likely written in reaction to the cataclysmic vision of a barbarian wave sweeping the empire away in the 5th century and leaving behind the 'Dark Ages'. Edward Gibbon was partially responsible for this long-standing view, although he mainly saw in Christianity the true, degenerative force behind the empire's demise. But later historians such as Henri Pirenne had changed this Author: e-mail: [email protected] . Naturally, both the term nor the concept are not his: Late Antiquity had been commonly used to denote the last two centuries of the Roman empire, and the conspicuous socio-economic changes that it faced-from the debasement of the currency in the late 2nd century to the increasingly "mercenarization" of the Roman army and its progressive admittance of barbarian soldiers. Another prominent aspect of the Late Antique period-a complex aspect I shall examine-was the profound transformation of the arts around Diocletian's time: from the ever-famous porphyry statue of the Tetrarchs, art displayed a new sensibility and indeed new preoccupations. 'Late Antiquity' was thus by no means a new concept. But what was new was Brown's notion of a protracted Late Antique epoch, which though well-founded, he unduly stretched from 150 to 750 AD-dates I believe to be overextended in both directions-and which this paper shall examine. 1 Peter Brown, The World of Late Antiquity: AD 150-750. (New York: Norton, 1989), p.9 conceit showing that German invasions were not as destructive as previously supposed, for their intent was far less ruinous: the first, and more obvious, was to gain access to the Mediterranean; the second, conferred a new, almost appealing character to these incursions, since the invading Germanic tribes were actually seeking to Romanize themselves. That in their alacrity for doing so they irretrievably upset the empire is another matter, but Pirenne's work dispelled the myth of a simple brutality of the barbarian2. Pirenne wrote in the early twentieth century and all but effaced the Romantic vision3 But a radical book that reattached itself to the Gibbonian image of a catastrophic and utter collapse appeared in the 1940's by André Piganiol called Piganiol treated the Christianized Roman Empire of the 4th century as a whole unto itself, from Constantine's injunction for the council of Nicaea of 325 to the death of Theodosius I in 395, the last emperor to effectively rule both the eastern and western halves of the Empire. Piganiol described this period with admirable vigor and lucidity; he believed quite correctly that under the Christian aegis the western portion of the empire experienced a revival-Brown himself treats this revival in a short chapter-and was in the process of a complex transformation, "une conception nouvelle de la vérité et de la beauté; [...] une conception du travail collectif et solidaire, au service de l'intérêt social" that the fall of Rome was brought upon by a coarse horde of savage invaders, who ended civilized society for the better part of a millennium. Probably the figure that best fit this view was Theoderic the Great, who despite his Ostrogothic heritage learned and assimilated Roman rule thus developing a zeal to uphold Roman tradition so that when in 488 he founded the Kingdom of Italy with its capital in Ravenna he sought to reinstate the glory of Ancient Rome. 4 2 See Henri Pirenne, Mohammed and Charlemagne. (New York: Barnes & Noble, Inc., 1937) 3 See the classic 8 volume work, Italy and her Invaders by Thomas Hodgkin, which appeared throughout the mid 19th century, and whose prose, redolent of impending doom, indeed is to be ascribed to the Romantic sensibility. But the work contains such detailed accounts of the different barbarian tribes and their customs, still valuable today, that it has not yet been superseded in many respects. 4 André Piganiol, L'Empire Chrétien. (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1947), p.466 [a new conception of truth and beauty-a conception of collective effort and solidarity leaning toward social welfare.] . But just as this propitious reshaping was taking place, the P V ol um e X IV Is su e I V er sio n I 1 ( D ) Y e a r 20 14 G lo ba l Jo ur na l of H um an S oc ia l Sc ie nc e © 2014 Global Journals Inc. (US) The World of Late Antiquity L'Empire Chrétien - notorious passage-one which must have certainly rustled Brown: "La civilization romaine n'est pas morte de sa belle mort. Ella a été assassinée." 5 Let us now look at Brown's account of the period before and after the fall of Rome and view it against the previous historiography. I shall look at two fundamental aspects in examining the virtues and faults of Brown's book: culture and art. After 476, Brown presents us the picture of an epoch full of "the resilience of the old world" 6 where indeed Germans and Romans clashed, but in which they also learned to coexist and assimilate into each other, thus opposing Piganiol's bleak perception. And certainly, Brown is right in many regards: tribes such as the Ostrogoths-the very same ones who deposed Romolus Augustulus ending 'de facto' the Roman empire-were particularly admiring of Roman culture, "Theoderic [...] was in the habit of saying: 'An able Goth wants to be like a Roman; only a poor Roman would want to be like a Goth'". 7 As late as 526, Roman equestrian and gladiatorial games were reinstated by Theoderic in his new capital, Ravenna; he constructed for himself a mausoleum in the Roman fashion, with a gigantic monolithic dome, which, in its engineering dare, was a clear indication of his veneration for imperial Rome, as was his employment of Roman quarries in Mount Porphyrus in Egypt, for the last time in the West8 Naturally, Brown's focus is on the eastern empire, for no historian could fail to heed the rapid decline of the Western Empire. He rightfully observes classical culture surviving in the East to the point that "men lived in their classical Greek past so naturally that medieval Byzantium never experienced a Renaissance" . 9. But I should like the reader to consider the idea that the Byzantine empire never really experienced the Middle Ages either; and that during that period, which in reality refers to the West, the East, as Brown himself says, "constantly re-created itself"10 5 Ibid, p.466 [Roman civilization did not expire of its own accord. It was assassinated.] 6 Brown, p.44 7 Brown, p.123 8 The very last time the quarries of Mons Porphyrus were used was for the construction of Justinian's Hagia Sophia (560) in Constantinople. 9 Brown, p.177 10 Ibid, p.177 . Brown's references to the Byzantines are potent and convincing: after all, his classical Greek training is second to none and allows him a privileged view of the Hellenizing eastern empire. Therefore, as far as the Eastern Empire is concerned, I concur with Brown's idea of a protracted antiquity, and would even extend Brown's conception and venture to say that the Byzantine Empire was a 'World of Late Antiquity' that lasted a millennium. But Brown is less convincing when he overextends the survival of classical culture in the West supported the classical tradition throughout the sixth century disappeared rapidly in the seventh." 11 Brown's assertion runs at least two hundred years late. The same can be said about his contention that it wasn't until the Eastern Emperor Heraclius (610-641) that "we can sense the definitive emergence of a medieval world [...since] the medieval idea of a 'Christian society' began in this period." 12 In his classic and all-too-forgotten masterwork, "The victory of Christianity [by 400] marks the end of ancient society: by the single fact that the family no longer had its domestic religion, its constitution and its laws were transformed; so, too, from the single fact that the state no longer had its official religion, the rules for the government of men were forever changed. Our study must end at this limit, which separates ancient from modern polities." The question begs to be asked: in what does Brown see the divide between an ancient, Christian society and a medieval one? The crucial answer is not furnished by Brown. In fact, many scholars who study the Western Empire have posited the roots of the medieval world the moment Christianity took hold of the empire. 13 Coulanges of course was still working under the preconception of a clear rupture between antiquity and the medieval world-even 'modern', in his view. His analysis of the change of mentality that Christianity in helping understand the essence of Ancient culture and underscores a major shift, which Brown disregards. With paganism, Coulanges argues, religion, law, and government were aspects of the same thing: while previously "every man had made a god for himself", with the advent of Christianity "the divine Being was placed outside and above physical nature". 14 This created a scission of immense cultural consequence: "it is the first time that God and the state are so clearly distinguished." 15 11 Ibid, p.176 12 Ibid, p.173-174 13 Fustel de Coulanges, The Ancient City. (Boston: Lee and Sheppard, 1874), p.528 14 Ibid, p.521 15 Ibid, p.525 This aspect had important ramifications, which Brown might have kept in mind when referring to any period after the inception of Christianity 'Antique', because according to Coulanges the pagan unity between adoration and domesticity was eminently classical: when Christ tells us that his V ol um e X IV Is su e I V er sio n I 2 ( D ) Y e a r 20 14 G lo ba l Jo ur na l of H um an S oc ia l Sc ie nc e © 2014 Global Journals Inc. (US) An Everlasting Antiquity: Aspects of Peter Brown's the World of Late Antiquity Goths descended upon the Italian peninsula and sacked Rome: L'Empire Chrétien thus ends with a porphyry, the Roman imperial stone par excellence from excessively. He states that, "the milieux that had The Ancient City, Fustel de Coulanges explains that, brought into the ancient city is still of key importance in kingdom is not of this world, 'this' world is no longer the ancient world. A persuasive argument for the cultural and literary demise of Antiquity around the year 400 is book, Marrou claims that 400 AD is the most favorable moment to capture the evolution that bears the birth of a medieval Christian culture. Marrou finds the figure of St. Augustine the paradigm of this evolution. According to Marrou, Augustine is a sort of hinge-figure, the inheritor of Ancient culture and the progenitor of the medieval heritage. Marrou claims that in probing the evolution of ancient culture, one must not just look at the 'spirit of the age', but rather one must look to the intellectual life that such a spirit produces primarily through its technique. 16 Therefore he concentrates a great deal of his book analyzing Augustine's technical equipment; he finds that Augustine's intellectual preparation is symptomatic of cardinal importance in revealing the cultural shift that Augustine embodies. Augustine undoubtedly inherited the cardinal disciplines of Classical Latin (grammar, rhetoric, eloquence) but not a deep understanding of Greek. Unlike St. Jerome, St. Augustine possessed a knowledge of ancient Greek that was, at best, perfunctory17, since Augustine's intellectual formation was entirely Latin. This fact alone placed Augustine in a culture of 'décadence', because according to Marrou, "l'oublie du grec en Occident, et la rupture de l'unité méditerranéenne entre Orient grec et Occident latin- fait fondamental qui va a dominer l'histoire de l'Europe médiévale-s'est accompli ou preparée à la fin de l'antiquité." 18 According to Marrou this linguistic transformation is a cardinal sign of the end of the ancient world. Though in Augustine other disciplines which constituted classical training (music and geometry) were lacking, Augustine was a superior grammarian and rhetorician; in his writings, we hear the echo of the procedures that were cemented by the tradition of ancient rhetoric and which had everlasting value-invention, disposition, elocution, memory. 19 16 Henri-Irénée Marrou, St. Augustin et la Fin de la Culture Antique. (Paris: Éditions Boccard, 1958), p.viii 17 "Il sait le grec, c'est entendu, assez pour s'en servir dans le travail scientifique pour une brève verification du texte, mais il n'a pas accès, aux trésors de l'hellenisme.", Marrou, p.37 [He knew Greek, obviously, enough for his own use in his scientific work or for a brief check on textual issues, but he never had real access to the Hellenic treasures.] 18 Marrou, p.38 [the disappearance of the Greek language in the West and the rupture of the Mediterranean unity in a Greek East and a Latin West-a fundamental aspect, which dominated medieval European history-was accomplished or prepared at the end of Antiquity.] 19 Marrou, p.56 But with these procedures of rhetoric there was a marked loss of all that was not essential to Christian doctrine; the loss of classical knowledge is so conspicuous as to be profoundly significant. St. Augustine's lacunae have a medieval tinge and are thus of great historical interest: "il en vint à concevoir, et dans une large mesure á posséder, une culture d'un type tout à fait different, entièrement subordonnée aux exigences de la foi religieuse, une culture chrétienne, antique par ses matériaux, toute médiévale déjà d'inspiration." 20 So against the old, unshakable truths that classical culture in its entirety possessed, Augustine pits cessé de définir son ideal par ce même terme de contemplation de la verité, une connessaince de Dieu [...] connaissance qui est sans doute vision, contact, amour, participation, mais avant tout certitude. C'est ça toute la doctrine augustinienne de la sagesse: nécessité de la foi; effort pour s'élever á l'intelligence de ses vérités; contemplation; triple aspect de la vie contemplative: prière, étude, morale..." 21 It is in such terms that Marrou posits his argument for Augustine as the figure that closes the Classical world: the decay of ancient culture in which he sees "l'incubation, qui ouvre la voie, de façon paradoxale, à la future médiévale" A world whose source of truth is faith is no longer the classical world, since in Antiquity, as Coulanges brilliantly observed, people lived in a world that was populated by many Gods and as such it was the source of their truth, and truth derived from faith as a practice for truth was This precept, the marrow of future Christian doctrine, was to animate medieval culture for a millennium. 22 The last commentator of the end of Antiquity, who focuses on a wide cultural stratum, and whom I should like to mention, is Santo Mazzarino. Mazzarino was a historian of vast literary resources and wrote extensively on the late Roman Empire. His most succinct yet complete book on the subject of the end of the classical world opens with a broad description, , and, the new beacon of faith as the only provider for truth and salvation. It is for these reasons that Marrou's title for his book, 'St. Augustine and the End of Antique Culture' is tenaciously encapsulating. 20 Marrou, p.275 [he came to conceive, and in large measure to obtain, a knowledge that was quite different, entirely subordinated to the needs of religious faith-a Christian knowledge, which was ancient in its components but already wholly medieval in inspiration.] 21 Marrou, p.364 [St. Augustine has not in effect ceased to define his ideal by the same term of sapientia; and wisdom for him rests still on the contemplation of truth-the knowledge of God [...] a knowledge that is doubtlessly vision, contact, love, and participation; but above all certitude. It is this is the whole doctrine of Augustinian knowledge: the necessity of faith, an effort to reach an understanding of its truths, contemplation, the triple aspect of the contemplative life-prayer, study, morals...] 22 Marrou, p.663 [the incubation, which opens the path, in a paradoxical way, to the medieval future] V ol um e X IV Is su e I V er sio n I 3 ( D ) Y e a r 20 14 G lo ba l Jo ur na l of H um an S oc ia l Sc ie nc e © 2014 Global Journals Inc. (US) An Everlasting Antiquity: Aspects of Peter Brown's the World of Late Antiquity offered in Henri-Irénée Marrou's St. Augustin et la Fin de his originality; and techne, according to Marrou, is of faith as the source of truth: "Saint Augustin en effet n'a sapientia; et la sagesse pour lui est toujour restée une inconceivable. In his De Trinitate, Augustine says that man must believe in order to obtain eternal beatitude. la Culture Antique. In this deeply fascinating and rich which echoes Marrou's conclusions, though on a broader scale."Troubles and convulsions begin to emerge from the collapsing framework of the great empire: the appearance of new peoples on the great stage of the classical world; the transition from a centralized and bureaucratic administration with a corresponding monetary economy to an economy which foreshadows feudalism in the West and seeks in the East to reconcile military service with peasant labour; the long decay of an agricultural system which attempted to strike a balance between the labour of with the triumph of the Christian city of God, as conceived in the ideology of St. Augustine. This is in short the death of the ancient world [...]"23 It is fascinating to follow Mazzarino's chronicle of the 'idea' of decadence in ancient Rome. As early as Rome's decay and offers 'internal'-unsolvable class struggles-and 'external'-barbarization of the GrecoBactrian state by the Iranian nomads-explanations for the inevitable demise of Rome 24. Even Cicero, whose preoccupations for the Roman republic hounded him throughout his life, thought he was living in a period of decadence, "Cicero saw the idea of decadence of Rome in two forms: the decay of manners and the lack of really great men (virorum penuria)." 25 Really great men? Caesar, Octavian/Agustus? These are symptomatic manifestations of an eminently Western nostalgia for the past as an ever better age than the present26 Mazzarino detects the first historically significant evidence that the old world was stiffening in 250, in a letter of Cyprian to Demetrianus in which he tried to show the latter that the source of the decline was not the emerging Christian faith: "You ought to know that this world has already grown old. It no longer has the powers which once supported it; the vigour and strength by which it was once sustained." . Even the Iliad, which as far as the West is concerned can be considered its very first utterance, has a scene in Book 1 with the older Achaean men, sitting around a fire at night and complaining that their Agamemnon, Ajax, etc.! 27 23 Santo Mazzarino, The End of the Ancient World. (New York: Alfed Knopf, 1966), p.19 24 Mazzarino, p.25 25 Mazzarino, p.26 26 See Robert Broxton Onians, The Origins of European Thought About the Body, the Mind, the Soul. (London: Cambridge University Press, 1951) 27 Mazzarino, p.41 The timing of this crisis corresponds perfectly with Brown's account of the serious problems the Roman Empire faced in the mid 3rd century (the shattering, humiliating defeats inflicted to Rome by the Sassanid Empire in 252, 257, and 260). To appreciate the attachment that people had to that 'old world', which Brown implicitly discounts in his book, we ought to keep in mind that Cyprian, a Christian, should not have had particular sympathy for the still violently pagan Roman world. Nevertheless, Mazzarino, too, like Marrou, posits the emergence of the cultural bases for the end of antiquity around Alaric's sack of Rome: "Orientius, a man of the world who had turned religious under the weight of the tragedy, wrote his said, 'has become one funeral pyre.' This was not just decadence: it was the the origins of evil to be simply the first grievous sins: lust, envy, avarice, anger, lying. At the end of the Commonitorium come the four final experiences: death, hell, heaven, the last judgment. One might say that with this little poem, stretching out to the life beyond, the Middle Ages begin-nine centuries later the same motif of sin and the four last things will supply the medieval synthesis which is also the greatest poetical work of Christianity, the Divine Comedy." 28 Let us now look at the characteristic changes in art of Late Antiquity. As I stated earlier art plays an important part in defining this period, and Brown focuses on it to a great extent; in fact, despite the book's brevity (203 pages), it is filled with illustrations because Brown sees art as a determining factor of an epoch. Many of Brown's images are in support of the long survival of the old, naturalistic style, which is associated with the Classical world. The art of the period we are treating is so complex a subject that it cannot be treated exhaustively here, or anywhere entirely for that matter. However, I should like to point out a few details that should demonstrate that Brown is stretching the Ancient world beyond its chronological-and in this case its stylistic-limits. Art historian Asher Ovadiah has meticulously examined the period's naturalisticallystyled reliefs in scroll motifs and has concluded that, "The spatial and temporal distributions of the "peopled" scrolls indicates that the decorative tradition of this ornament, originating in the architectural decoration of the Hellenistic period, was to persist in various artistic media (mosaics, reliefs, textiles, etc.) of later periods, in both the East and the West. The depictions in these scrolls are of genre-realistic character rather than symbolic-allegorical conception. It would thus appear that Classical taste in ornamentation continued to remain in vogue even long after the decline and And so, for exegetes such as Marrou and Mazzarino, profound scholars of the ancient world, intimately connected with all its primary sources, a long and protracted 'Late Antique World' after the fall of Rome in the West, such as Brown envisages, was nonexistent. 28 Mazzarino, p.56 V ol um e X IV Is su e I V er sio n I 4 ( D ) Y e a r 20 14 G lo ba l Jo ur na l of H um an S oc ia l Sc ie nc e © 2014 Global Journals Inc. (US) An Everlasting Antiquity: Aspects of Peter Brown's the World of Late Antiquity slaves and of coloni bound to the soil. It is connected Polybius's Histories, the great historian prophesizes leaders were not real warriors as the men of generation: those were real warriors-not, Achilles, their Commonitorium about this time [410]: 'All Gaul', he collapse of the empire. Orentius's Commonitorium took disappearance of paganism." 29 There would seem but one explanation. It is that in the troubled state of the world, and of Rome in particular [...]" In other words, the naturalistic style continued after Antiquity more by virtue of habit than anything else, divested in fact of its "symbolic-allegorical conception". Thus the survival of an artistic style is not necessarily the sign of the survival of a cultural age. On the other hand, we must contend with a true, late-antique style found at Rome, of which the Tetrarch's sculpture, which I mentioned earlier, is a paradigmatic example. This is truly a style in its own right-a style that exhibits a tangible decline in execution, and which much has been written about. Of another equally famous example, the reliefs of the Arch of Constantine, Bernard Berenson wrote how he was startled by, "the strange fact that the capital of the world, the seat of wealth and culture, the greatest patroness of the arts if not the most refined, which to the end of the 3rd century had been producing, apart from public monuments, hundreds of 'pagan' sarcophagi endowed with a certain, wistful, crepuscular charm, should find, when celebrating the victorious soldier, the restorer of 'law and order', the mighty Emperor Constantine, no abler artists than the executants of these reliefs. None are less marginal, less peripheral, less ultra-provincial, and many far more ordinary, more disintegrated, more shapeless than any on the stone and marble coffins done at the same time for Christians who could not, or dared not afford better workmanship. 30 For a number of art historians (Wickoff, Riegl, etc.) this style prefigured the Middle Ages; Brown himself agrees that the new style anticipated future developments, when, in reproducing the Tetrarchs' sculpture in his book, he describes it as "medieval in tone" 31 thus weakening his argument for a Late Antique period which according to Brown is neither classical nor medieval. On the other hand, Berenson rejects the notion that the Tetrarchs displays the signs of protomedievalism: "It is more likely that the artisans who worked on the Tetrarchs had as little conscious and planned ideas of preparing the way for Romanesque and Gothic sculpture as they had while talking their plebian Latin of creating a new language for Dante and Petrarch to use". 32 The last aspect I shall treat of Brown's argument about Late Antique art is what he calls "the splendid new art of the age" 33 29 Asher Ovadiah, "The 'Peopled' Scroll Motif in the Land of Israel in Late Antiquity." The Metamorphosis of Marginal Images: from Antiquity to Present Time. (Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv University, 2001), p.8 30 Bernard Berenson, The Arch of Constantine. (London: Chapman & Hall, 1954), p.30-31 31 Brown, p.22 32 Berenson, p.21 33 Brown, p.38 which he says "is the work of craftsmen and patrons who felt themselves shaken free from the restraints of previous generations." 34 He is referring to a fresh and new style, which indeed appeared around the 5th century AD and of which Brown provides a wealth of examples. If we look closely at the provenance of the specimens he furnishes, though, they all originate from Syria, Tunisia, and Asia Minor. The noted art historian Jean Hubert remarked, in fact, that, "one point, however, is worth emphasizing: after the period of the great invasions the finest, most vigorous offshoots developed in those parts of the former Roman Empire which were never occupied by barbarians or which they only passed through. Syria, Armenia, and part of Asia Minor shared this privilege with Byzantium." 35 To go back to the Arch of Constantine for a moment-a most emblematic monument-we ought to remember that it is an assemblage made up of parts from earlier times (in particular, those of Hadrian and Marcus Aurelius) and the only original parts are the scroll encircling the Arch depicting Constantine's victorious entry into Rome and two winged victories supporting an ambiguous inscription. These are all from 312, the year of Constantine's Triumph and the arch's erection, following his victory over Maxentius. The notorious ambiguity in the inscription rests in an apparent grammatical 'slip', which states that Constantine 'with the help of the God, has restored law and order', etc. Whether the singular was deliberate has been the source of much speculation. It is very likely that it was carefully calculated so that one 'God' rather than the usual 'the Gods' could appear as a solecism and the suggestion that the former had assisted Constantine could remain without discomfiture for 'the Senate and People of Rome': after all, the S.P.Q.R. (Senatus Populus Que Romanus, who were the dedicators of the arch, had not yet subscribed to that monotheistic religion-which Brown in a stroke of genius labeled "Cockney" B ut isn't the 'Late Antique World' that Brown seeks to convince us of the product of the confluence of Roman delineate a period that is more complex and more rich than anything that could be reduced to a definition like the one above; but the argument for a Late Antique style is most convincing when he refers to that odd admixture of influences, which produced the Tetrarchs, the Arch of Constantine's original frieze, the statue of Valentinian I, etc. 36 Here, again, the Devil is in the details. Peter Brown, in mentioning the conversion to Christianity, states that, "after the conversion of Constantine in 312, the ease with which Christianity gained control of the -called Christianity. 34 Ibid, p.38 35 Jean Hubert, Jean Porcher, W.F. Volbach, Europe of the Invasions. (New York: George Braziller, Inc.), p.1 36 Brown, p.93 V ol um e X IV Is su e I V er sio n I 5 ( D ) Y e a r 20 14 G lo ba l Jo ur na l of H um an S oc ia l Sc ie nc e © 2014 Global Journals Inc. (US) An Everlasting Antiquity: Aspects of Peter Brown's the World of Late Antiquity and barbarian elements? Brown, it is true, tries to upper classes of the Roman Empire [...] was due to the men, who found it comparatively easy to abandon conservative beliefs in favour of the new faith of their masters." 37 This is quite incorrect. Augusto Fraschetti, who has written a definitive study on the conversion from Paganism to Christianity, 38 has pointed out a number of details, which directly contradict Brown's summary statement. Firstly, Constantine favored Byzantium- soon to become Constantinople-because he felt Rome's pagan atmosphere disagreeable and the myriad pagan temples stifling, for Constantine wanted to start his own Christian capital 'ex-novo'. Therefore, Constantine visited Rome only three times during his long reign (for his Triumph in 312, following the battle of the Milvian Bridge; for the decennial celebrations of his reign in 315; and for the twentieth anniversary of the same in 325); and his longest sojourn lasted just shy of six months: "Roma e il suo senato ancora largamente pagano non potevano essere ignorati. Ció nonostante, Roma poteva essere evitata per quanto possible."39 Nevertheless, I still find the chronology of Brown's 'Late Antique World' too dilated, in both directions. 150 AD much too early for it is still in the middle of the Antonine dynasty (Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, Marcus Aurelius, Lucius Verus, and Commodus); the names alone of Trajan and Hadrian coincide with the apogee of the Pax Romana, and, with the latter at its peak, I cannot accept to term such a period as 'Late Antiquity' yet. On the other hand, 750 AD is much too late, since, by then Charlemagne was three From the proscription of paganism by emperor Theodosius I in 384 to the restoration of the Temple of Vesta in 436 to St. Augustine's complaint about the bacchanals that were taking place as late as 400 in the church of St. Peter itself to the co-existence of a double calendar (pagan and Christian)-under which Rome operated until the 5th century-Fraschetti shows unequivocally that the transition from paganism to Christianity in Rome was much longer and complex than Brown relays: because Brown's idea of the period is extensive, it is naturally prey to contradictions or inexactitudes if scrutinized in detail. But that would be missing the point, for we must not overlook Brown's achievement of having compelled historians to question the old ancient/medieval periodization: he has shown how rich and diverse the period after Rome's demise was-fecund for the arts and culturally significant in its own right and possessing its very own heterogeneous identity. And these merits surely stand in the face of criticism. 37 Brown, p.27-28 38 Augusto Fraschetti, La Conversione: da Roma Pagana a Roma Cristiana. (Bari: Laterza Editori. 1999) 39 Fraschetti, p.63 [Rome and its senate, still mostly pagan, could not be ignored. Nevertheless, Rome should be avoided as much as possible.] years old; the Carolingian dynasty had been in place for 70 years; the Muslim advance, which threatened Christianity on two fronts (the Pyrenees and Cappadocia) as a sinister set of pliers, for 40. By then, of Antiquity there was no trace left in the West. But the East, too, was in a period of decay that was not reversed until the 10th century. Accepting Marrou's arguments and positing the end of Antiquity in the West around 400 AD, seems to me too conservative, because though undoubtedly Marrou's considerations pertain to a very important aspect of culture, the ideology that was being forged by St. Augustine and St. Ambrose was one concerned with theological struggles and confined to clerical circles; and as such, they were not yet on a scale that could define an age culturally. As a master such as Erich Auerbach has stated: "it was a very long time before the potentialities in Christian thought reinforced by the sensuality of the new peoples, could manifest their vigor". 40 Brown's book speaks for a very long intermittent period, made up of ancient as well as medieval elements, which Brown argues as having an overreaching uniformity and cogency. But as I have tried to show, at some point-much sooner than Brown's contention-the ancient ingredient was no longer. So where are we to situate the dates of Late Antiquity? As we saw above, the brief splendor of Ravenna in the 6th century brought upon by a barbarian tribe such as the Ostrogoths and shortly thereafter by perhaps the greatest Eastern emperor, Justinian 41, had still, undoubtedly, the accents of Antiquity. But the Longobardic invasion of 569 changed the face of the Italian peninsula. The new invader was mostly pagan, had no interest in either Christianity or Romanizing itself and it clung to its own, highly developed customs and art. By then Ars Barbarica effaced any Classical vestige that remained. In fact, the Longobards were the first Germanic tribe to contribute an autochthonous stylistic feature, which remained with us until today-cloisonné decoration. In addition their 'weave' motifs, also purely Longobardic, heavily influenced the Romanesque decoration, especially columns' capitals42 40 Erich Auerbach, Mimesis: the Representation of Reality in Western Literature. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1953) 41 Justinian's great church, Hagia Sophia (560 AD), is the last great monument of Antiquity and doubtlessly belongs to that period in several aspects-ranging from architectural contrivances (the invention of pendentives to carry the weight of the circular dome to the square base) to the use of the materials employed in its construction. 42 See: Meyer Schapiro, Romanesque Art. (New York: George Braziller, Inc.) . Considering all these factors, I would give 'Late Antiquity' the following rough dates: 250-550 AD, or from the period just before Diocletian's accession (as was evident in Cyprian's letter to Demetrianus) to the death of Justinian. V ol um e X IV Is su e I V er sio n I 6 ( D ) Y e a r 20 14 G lo ba l Jo ur na l of H um an S oc ia l Sc ie nc e © 2014 Global Journals Inc. (US) An Everlasting Antiquity: Aspects of Peter Brown's the World of Late Antiquity Finally, the merits and faults of Peter Brown's 'the World of Late Antiquity', which I have tried to analyze were reiterated succinctly and compellingly in an interview between the Director of Studies of the École Française de Rome, Yann Rivière, and the eminent art historian, Paul Veyne, who was a student of Brown's: Rivière: By using the words 'collapse' and 'decline', it is a far cry from the image historiography (I am thinking in particular of the work by the great historian of Late Antiquity, Peter Brown) painted twenty or thirty years ago of the end of Antiquity and the creation of Barbarian kingdoms in the West. It was perhaps a reaction to an earlier vision of a 'murdered Empire' (A. Piganiol), or of a sick Empire. Has this revision itself not gone too far the other way? Veyne: Yes, but all this is in the past. Peter Brown has a historical imagination that we can all envy: he is veraciously (and I stress this adverb) able to put himself in the position of men in the past. Like anyone, he can make mistakes. Such was the case at this time, but it happened a long time ago, and he has since more than made amends by his silence on the matter. But he is still criticized for this old error, because people are jealous of the deserved fame of this great historian who is considered a guru, and envied for being so for his many readers." 43 43 Jean-Jacques Aillagon, ed. Rome and the Barbarians: the Birth of a New World. (Milano: Skira, 2008), p.603-604 Are historians, who master history, Clio's first prey? In any event, 'World of Late Antiquity' remains a highly important book that can be disputed but cannot not be discounted. V ol um e X IV Is su e I V er sio n I 7 ( D ) Y e a r 20 14 G lo ba l Jo ur na l of H um an S oc ia l Sc ie nc e © 2014 Global Journals Inc. (US) An Everlasting Antiquity: Aspects of Peter Brown's the World of Late Antiquity This page is intentionally left blank 3 An Everlasting Antiquity: Aspects of Peter Brown's the World of Late Antiquity V ol um e X IV Is su e I V er sio n I 8 ( D ) Y e a r 20 14 G lo ba l Jo ur na l of H um an S oc ia l Sc ie nc e © 2014 Global Journals Inc. (US)
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
INFORMATION TO USERS This reproduction was made from a copy of a document sent to us for microfilming. While the most advanced technology has been used to photograph and reproduce this document, the quality of the reproduction is heavily dependent upon the quality of the material submitted. The following explanation of techniques is provided to help clarify markings or notations which may appear on this reproduction. 1.The sign or "target" for pages apparently lacking from the document photographed is "Missing Page(s)". If it was possible to obtain the missing page(s) or section, they are spliced into the film along with adjacent pages. This may have necessitated cutting through an image and duplicating adjacent pages to assure complete continuity. 2. When an image on the film is obliterated with a round black mark, it is an indication of either blurred copy because of movement during exposure, duplicate copy, or copyrighted materials that should not have been filmed. For blurred pages, a good image of the page can be found in the adjacent frame. If copyrighted materials were deleted, a target note will appear listing the pages in the adjacent frame. 3. When a map, drawing or chart, etc., is part of the material being photographed, a definite method of "sectioning" the material has been followed. It is customary to begin filming at the upper left hand comer of a large sheet and to continue from left to right in equal sections with small overlaps. If necessary, sectioning is continued again-beginning below the first row and continuing on until complete. 4. For illustrations that cannot be satisfactorily reproduced by xerographic means, photographic prints can be purchased at additional cost and inserted into your xerographic copy. These prints are available upon request from the Dissertations Customer Services Department. 5. Some pages in any document may have indistinct print. In all cases the best available copy has been filmed. University Microfilms International 300 N. Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, Ml 48106 R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 8405115 Johnston, Mark PARTICULARS AND PERSISTENCE Princeton University Ph.D. 1984 University Microfilms international 300 N. Zeeb Road, Ann Arbor, Ml 48106 Copyright 1983 by Johnston, Mark All Rights Reserved R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Ji *3 •^5 PARTICULARS AND PERSISTENCE by Mark Johnston A thesis presented to Princeton University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Philosophy Princeton, New Jersey, 1983 i/, 1T.~l ^ . 1QOO Vidi.CS. JUllUObUU) R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. I hereby declare that I am the sole author of this thesis. I authorize Princeton University to lend this thesis to other institutions or individuals for the purpose of scholarly research. Mark Johnston I further authorize Princeton University to reproduce this thesis by photocopying or other means, in total or in part, at the request of other institutions or individuals for the purpose of scholarly research. Mark Johnston -iiR eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. Princeton University requires the signatures of all parsons using or photocopying this thesis. Please sign below and give address and date. -iiiR eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. Abstract The thesis is concerned with the outline of an ontology which admits only particulars and with the persistence of particulars through time. In Chapter 1 it is argued that a neglected class of particulars - the cases - have to be employed in order to solve the problem of universals, i.e., to give a satisfactory account of properties and kinds. In Chapter 2, two ways in which particulars could persist though time are distinguished. Difficulties are raised for the view that everything perdures through time, i.e, the view that each persisting thing is a sum of continuous and dependent temporal parts. Objections to the view that people perdure are presented in Chapter 3, objections to the effect that such a view (the so-called Complex View) cannot capture salient truths about the nature of experience and wrongly implies that our special concern for ourselves, our friends and our familiars is irrational. An alternative account of persisting particulars is provided in Chapter 4 by way of giving a theory of substances. Finally, in Chapter 5, this alternative account is applied to the issue of personal identity and to the issue of the identity over time of living things in general. A Hylomorphic View of living things is sketched and briefly defended. Throughout, certain themes recur: essentialism is taken to be relatively unproblematic, various connections between time and modality are exploited, reductionism is regarded as bearing the onus of proof, characterless entities such as prime matter, substrata, bare particulars and haecceities are rejected and the differences between the animate and the inanimate are emphasized. -ivR eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 3 Thanks to my advisor Saul Kripke and to David Lewis for their help with this thesis and for numerous conversations on related matters. For those who know their views I need not add the conventional disclaimer to the effect that they do not agree with everything that follows. Thanks also to David Kaplan who is partly responsible for this thesis having been much less time-consuming than it otherwise would have been. _v_ R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. Table of Contents Chapter 1 Cases Section 1 The Problem with Particularism 1 Section 2 The Problem with Universals 21 Section 3 A World of Cases 27 Section 4 Cases to the Rescue 48 Chapter 2 Complexes Section 1 Persistence 57 Section 2 The Theory of Perduring 63 Section 3. Limitations o7. the Complex View 72 Chapter 3 People Section 1 Versions of the Complex View of People 82 Section 2 Objections from the Nature of Experience 87 Section 3 The Complex View and Self-Concern 94 Chapter 4 Substances Section 1 The Characterization of Substances 105 Section 2 Essence and Accident 111 Section 3 Essence and Endurance 123 Chapter 5 Composites Section 1 The Limitations of Materialism 129 Section 2 Hyiomorphism 136 Section 3 Organism and Artifact 140 Section 4 Sanity Restored 146 Bibliography 157 -vi20 26 47 56 62 71 81 86 93 104 110 122 128 135 139 i45 156 160 with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. a Chapter 1 - Cases 1. The Problem with Particularism Let us think of a universal as a thing which is or could be a common part of many particulars - a common part, but not a common spatio-temporal part. For a wall between two row houses is not a universal even though it is a spatio-temporal part common to both houses. (A part is a spatio-temporal part just in case it is necessary that if two or more things have that part in common then they overlap in space-time.) If a universal existed and was exemplified then it would be wholly present in each of the particulars which exemplified it. All of the universal would be present in each of the particulars which exemplify it. Those particulars would be similar in virtue of having the universal as a common part. A single universal is thus repeatable in many particulars and so across many space-time regions. Its repetitions can be independent in the sense that it is not in general required that if the universal exists in two non-overlapping regions then its existence in one of those regions is part of the explanation of its existence in the other. (As we shall see in Chapter 2 there are particulars repeatable in many space-time regions, but their repetitions cannot be independent.) I have no other grip on the doctrine of universals than that given by the independent repeatability gloss. In fact this allows for universals in rebus but not so-called Platonic universals, i.e. forms or paradigms which are supposed to exist in some realm to which we had pre-natal access. All * the better; if forms existed, they would be weird particulars to which R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. %S3 ordinary particulars were weirdly related. And it is hard to see why an ordinary particular, say Socrates, could have a property, say snubnosedness, ■fti virtue of being related to a weird particular. It doesn't help just to call the weird particular 'the form of snubnose' and the weird relations 'imitation' or 'approximating to'. One wants to know how it is that the weird particular and the weird relation deserve these names. It won't do to say that the weird relation is really similarity in disguise and the form is a paradigm of snubnosedness. For if that is the answer, Socrates won't be snubnosed in virtue of his relation to the form. Rather he will be related to the form in virtue of being snubnosed. One then wonders why the form is needed at all. Couldn't Socrates be a paradigm of snubnosedness?* The ontological framework within which the central claims of this thesis H are to be presented is a Particularist framework. Only particulars are admitted. But in showing how to do without universals we can get clear on what sorts of particulars there are. The Particularist takes for granted some initial totality of things - the individuals. These are to be particular, i.e. not independently repeatable in space-time, and either spatio-temporally located or causally |j related to some spatio-temporally located thing. (Thus if God exists he gets in even if he is not located In space-time. Let us regard the whole of space-time as trivially located at itself.) The more liberal Particularists, of whom I am one, believe in a larger totality of individuals got by allowing arbitrary mereological summation, so that for any collection I ■ i 1. For a thoroughgoing defense of universals in the sense I have in mind see D. M. Armstrong, Universals and Scientific Realism, Vols. I and II (Cambridge University Press, 1378). Armstrong, like M. Tooley and F. Dretske, also believes that laws of nature are relations between universals. See M. Tooley, "The Nature of Laws", Canadian Journal of Philosophy, 7, 1977, and F. Dretske, "Laws of Nature", Philosophy of Science, 44, 1977. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. of undetached parts of any collection of individuals there is an individual 2which is their stun. The Particularist generates all the particulars he believes in by treating his individuals as the first level of a cumulative class hierarchy. The second level comprises all items at the first level and all classes of items at the first level. The third level comprises all items at the second level and all classes of items at the second level, and so on. Nothing universal appears in this hierarchy. « I suppose that many of us are Particularists. Our ontology is something like impure class theory with individuals as ur-elements. We are involved in many family disputes about just what individuals there are. But we face a 8 3common enemy - the friend of universals. I suggest that if we are to I defeat him we must settle our family disputes in a certain way. We must believe in what I call cases of properties and kinds. Here is the challenge which we Particularists face from the friend of universals. We seem to quantify over and refer to properties as well as to individuals. In this context properties are to be understood not as mere intensions, i.e. semantic values for arbitrary predicates, but as things such that if two individuals both have one of these things then they are ipso 4facto similar. Such properties are had by individuals. They are not 2. On mereological summation see H.S. Leonard and N. Goodman, "The Calculus of Individuals and Its Uses", The Journal of Symbolic Logic, 5, 1940, and pp. 34-36 below. 3. Perhaps other common enemies also, e.g. the friend of numbers who thinks that no class-theoretic reduction of numbers is plausible. I wish to avoid that battle here. Also I wish to remain as neutral as possible on what the correct theory of classes is. 4. Of course one could stubbornly insist that one does not understand "x and y are similar" unless it means that there is some predicate which x and y satisfy, so that any two things are similar in an infinite number of ways. Compare N. Goodman, "Seven Strictures on Similarity", in his Problems and Projects (Bobbs-Merrill, 1972). However Goodman admits that similarity R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 4 individuals and so are not present at the first level of the Particularist hierarchy. Thus for the Particularist, either properties are classes of some sort or the true sentences which seem to require the existence of properties do not. But the noncommittal Nominalist paraphrases typically offered as a way of avoiding commitment to properties deviate wildly from the surface form of the problematic sentences. They seem to be about many things which the ordinary sentences do not engage with. And each of the proffered identifications of properties with classes of some sort is open to serious objection. So the Particularist ontology, even if it does include everything particular, seems doomed to leave out a whole category of things. These are the properties. The friend of universals draws the moral that they are not particular but universal. They are wholly present in the many particulars which have them, which is to say that they are common parts of the particulars which have them. Here are some sentences which express truths and which seem to involve quantification over and reference to properties and kinds. (1) The more properties individuals have in common the more they are like each other. (2) Not all the properties of fundamental particles have been discovered. (3) The property of electrons which explains their repelling each other and attracting protons is their charge. (4) Every property of a positron is a property of a lepton. is well used on the streets. I would add that it is also well used in the laboratory. Scientific investigation can be understood as revealing the real similarities. Why should the language of the philosopl/ classroom be subject to a stricter standard? R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. (5) Alexander had some of the virtues of his teacher Aristotle and they enabled him to endure adversity. (6) Acquired properties are not inherited. (7) Red is a color. (8) Red resembles orange more than it resembles blue. (9) There is a property of being green but no property of being 5grue. (10) The rose is a kind of flower but there is no kind consisting of the emeroses.^ For these sentences and their ilk I know of no systematic scheme of paraphrase which is Noun nalist in the sense of turning up paraphrases with referring terms only for individuals and quantifiers ranging only over individuals.^ On the other hand if we introduce classes of individuals - 5. x is grue iff x is examined before the year 2000 and is green, or is blue otherwise. 6. x is an emerose iff x is examined before the year 2000 and is an emerald, or is a rose otherwise. 7. For example, L. Goldstein in "Scientific Scotism", Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 61, 1983 offers (11) (3 x) ( -3 adjective'f')('f' is irreducible and is applicable to physical bodies and x is a physical body and it has not been discovered that *f' truly applies to x) as a Nominalist paraphrase for (11*) There are undiscovered fundamental physical properties. As he notes, (11) cannot be the complete Nominalist paraphrase since it presumably quantifies over adjective types. The complete Nominalist paraphrase must eliminate this quantification as well. Goldstein mentions Sellars1 account as the only complete story about how this is to be done. But I suspect that once the quantification over adjectival types is eliminated by means of Sellarsian dot quotation and appeal to the notion of linguistic role, the resultant paraphrase for (11*) will be rather tortuous. In any case it is unclear to me how Goldstein's metalinguistic paraphrase for (ll1) could be part of a systematic Nominalist treatment of the sentences I have cited. For example, with respect to (9) it is just not the case that the difference between the predicate 'green' and the predicate 'grue' is that the first is an irreducible predicate and the second is not. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 6 the individuals that have the property in question or are members of the kind in question - as the denotations of apparent property names or kind terms, we then need to say something about how these classes are distinguished from classes of individuals which have no common property or belong to no common kind, e.g. the class of grue things or the class of emeroses. The friend of universals is in a position to answer this question. He will say that the classes which are the denotations of property and kind terms like 'green' and 'rose' are unified in virtue of their members sharing or having universals. Here the theory of universals can take one of two forms. Either it can postulate a universal for every property term and kind term or it can allow only a small collection of universals, e.g. the fundamental properties and kinds of physics, which are held to be sufficient to explain all similarities. On the first version, the members of the class of green things will all share a universal greenness while the members of the class of grue things share no universal. On the second version, the 7. Ctd. 'Green' is interdefinable with 'examined', 'grue' and 'bleen' where something is bleen if it is blue and examined before the year 2000; otherwise green. The difference between 'green' and 'grue' might be captured by something like (12) All possible individuals to which 'green' applies resemble each other, not so with all possible individuals to which 'grue' applies. As we shall see, this is not quite what is wanted. For presumably all the grues, like all the greens are all alike in being extended. I conjecture that once these difficulties are dealt with, the resultant true sentence which the Nominalist offers as a paraphrase will guarantee that a certain resemblance class or function could perfectly well play the role of being the denotation of 'green'. Going this way would obviate the need to deviate from surface form. We could simply take 'Green is a property' to be of simple subject-predicate form, as it seems to be. Of course, if the Nominalist is someone who does not believe in classes then he has a reason to stick to his deviant paraphrases. But then he has the very unpromising task of paraphrasing away apparent reference to classes on the part of mathematicians. Good luck to him; fortunately such paraphrasing is no part of the Particularist program. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 7 distinction between a real property and a mere intension corresponding to no property will be operative at the level of fundamental properties. The members of the class of things with unit negative charges will share the universal unit negative charge. 'Not so with the things which are either examined and have unit negative charge or are unexamined and have unit positive charge. However, an advocate of the second version must tell a different story about the distinction between 'green' and 'grue'. For he will regard neither of these as names for universals. The best he can do, it ! seems, is to say that the members of the class of green things have I universals which make them appear similar. Not so with the members of the class of grue things. But here the friend of universals is making a concession - there are apparent similarities not explicable by the sharing of universals.^ The challenge for the Particularist is to do the same work without resort to postulating universals which make many individuals similar by being common parts of them. How then is the Particularist to account for the unity of a class of things with a property in common or of a class of things of a kind? He thinks that general names, and property names among them, could only pick out classes with individuals as their ultimate constituents. But if 'grue' is not a property name, what distinguishes the sort of class which it picks out from the sort of class picked out by a real property name like I 'green'? 8. The second version of the theory of universals corresponds to that offered by D. M. Armstrong in Armstrong op. cit. Frank Jackson seems to endorse the first version in "Statements about Universals", Mind, 86, 1977. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. The Particularist's answer seems obvious. Whereas the members of the class of grue things do not all partially resemble each other, e.g. a bluebird and a green patch, the members of the class of green things do 9partially resemble each other. So the natural Particularist thought is that properties and kinds - the denotations of property names and kind terms - can be identified with some sort of resemblance classes of individuals. Unlike the friend of universals, the Particularist believes that partial resemblance or similarity needs no explanation in terms of having a common qualitative part. If similarity is not to be explained in that way it is hard to see how it is to be explained or analyzed at all. So given that the notion does make pre-analytic sense and there is a vast amount of non-collusive agreement about which things are similar, the Particularist in good conscience can take a dyadic relation of similarity between individuals as primitive, i.e. well enough understood to theorize from even in the absence of an analysis. He may then go on to identify properties and kinds with resemblance classes of individuals, viz., classes such that every member of the class is similar to every other and no non-member is similar to every member. In this way the Particularist might hope to identify each property with the class of just those individuals which are similar in respect of having it and each kind with the class of just those individuals which are similar in respect of being of that kind. And he could hope to achieve this just by using the relation of partial similarity, not by employing as a primitive for each property a relation of similarity in respect of that property and for each kind a relation of similarity in respect of that kind. 9. The fact that this is so makes very unattractive the view that the difference between names like 'grue' or 'being grue' and names like 'green' or 'being green' is just primitive . R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 9 This natural Particularist proposal - to take properties and kinds to be resemblance classes of individuals - does not work. It is instructive to see why. First, it seems that two distinct properties could be had by just the same individuals so that the Particularist would wrongly identify distinct properties if he took properties to be resemblance classes of individuals. There may be fundamental particles of a certain kind which all have a certain mass and a certain charge. Imagine that although nothing else happens to have either of these properties, it would be possible to create a particle with the mass in question but without the charge in question. The technical difficulties in creating such a particle are never solved. In the situation imagined there is the class of fundamental particles. It is a resemblance class. There is as much reason to identify it with the property of having the charge in question as there is to identify it with the property of having the mass in question. However it cannot be identified with both, for these are distinct properties as is illustrated by the possibility of there being a particle with the mass but not the charge. The second problem begins with the familar observation that some designators of properties and kinds are rigid designators.*^ The Particularist view of properties being considered identifies properties with resemblance classes so that rigid property designators are, on that view, rigid class designators. For example, if 'F' is a rigid property designator then it picks out the resemblance class consisting of just the actual Fs and e.it picks out that resemblance class in^very world in which it picks out 10. That natural kind and property designators are rigid is argued by S. Kripke in Naming and Necessity (Harvard, 1980), pp. 131-37 and by H. Putnam in "The Meaning of 'Meaning'11, Philosophical Papers (Cambridge, 1975), Vol. 11, pp. 240-44. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 0 anything. I suppose that a class cannot change its members from possible world to possible w o r l d . I also suppose that a class exists in a 12possible world only if its members exist in that world. An immediate consequence of these two principles is that a resemblance class rigidly denoted by 'F1 exists in a world only if it has just the same members in that world as it has in the actual world and those members exist in that world. Now, on the view of properties being considered, an individual's having-in-the-actual-world the property rigidly designated by 'F' just comes down to its being a member-in-the-actual-world of the resemblance class rigidly designated by F, i.e. the class of the actual Fs. So it seems that an individual's having-in-the-world-w the property rigidly designated by 'F' just comes down to its being a member-in-w of the resemblance class rigidly 13designated by F. However, if a class cannot change its members from world to world then an individual is a member-in-w of the resemblance class rigidly designated by 'F' only if it is a member-in-the-actual-world of that resemblance class. So an individual will have the property F in some world w only if it is a member-in-the-actual-world of the resemblance class rigidly designated by 'F', i.e. only if it actually has the property F. Since any property can be rigidly designated, the consequence is that an individual could have a property only if it actually has it. This is intolerable. No 11. Cf. R. Sharvey, "Why a Class Can't Change its Members", Nous, 2, 1968. 12. For we want to allow that any world could have been actual. And we do not want it to be the case under such a counterfactual supposition that ■ there are class members which do not exist. Cf. A. Prior and K. Fine, Worlds, Times and Selves (University of Massachusetts, Amherst, 1977), pp. 125-30. 13. This is at least the most natural generalization of the view's account of what it is to have the property in the actual world. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. more tolerable is the consequence that there is no possible world in which some of the actual Fs are F and the other actual Fs do not exist. This follows from the view of properties as resemblance classes and our two principles concerning classes and their members. For such a world would be one in which the resemblance class rigidly designated by 'F' does not exist because not all of its actual members exist in that world. One offshoot of work on the completeness question in quantified modal logic is a conception of the intensions of predicates that suggests a 14Particularist account of properties which avoids these difficulties. I Once we begin to think of different things having different predicates true of them in different possible worlds it is natural to identify the intension of a predicate, e.g. 'is grue', with a function taking possible worlds as arguments and giving as values classes of individuals which exist in the argument world and are represented by the argument world as satisfying the predicate. The values are therefore extensions of the predicate in the argument worlds. If 'grue' is the general name associated with the predicate 'is grue' then it is natural to think of 'grue' as denoting the function which is the intension of 'is grue'. As the example Indicates, so far we have nothing which discriminates between general names like 'grue' which do not pick out properties and general names lika 'green' which do. Once again an appeal to similarity relations seems to be what is required. A function from worlds to extensions will be a type (i.e. a property or kind) only if it is a resemblance function. There are two conditions on a function f from worlds to extensions for it to be counted a resemblance function; (i) for any individuals x and y 14. Cf. S. Kripke, "A Completeness Theorem in Modal Logic," The Journal of Symbolic Logic, 24, 1959; particularly pp. 2-3. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 2 and worlds w^ and w^ if x is a member of f(wp and y is a member of f(w^) then x as it is in Wj is similar to y as it is in (ii) f should be maximal in this respect, i.e. there should be no thing in any world such that it stands in the right similarity relation to each member of any class which f assigns to any world but which is net a member of any of these classes. The right similarity relation is the cross-world relation which makes comparisons between things as they are in worlds - x as it is in w^ is similar to y as it is in w^. This is to be taken as a primitive in place of the earlier primitive of unrelativized similarity. Let us call the resulting conception of properties and kinds Modal Particularism. The Modal Particularist has it that such resemblance functions are rigidly designated by rigid property names or rigid kind names. Although these functions are themselves classes (of ordered pairs) which do not change their members from world to world, different classes could be associated with different worlds by the same function. FroE this point of view, the mistake behind the first account of properties and kinds was its identification of a property or a kind with what is in reality merely the extension of that property or kind in the actual world. This mistake also leads to the mis-identification of contingently and actually co-extensive properties. The Modal Particularist's conception of properties seems to provide a natural way to introduce the distinction between properties or kinds and arbitrary intensions. It is therefore worth noting that it is a dismal failure. The first problem that Modal Particularism faces is a modal descendant of Goodman's problem of imperfect community, a problem raised by him for R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 3 Caraap's project in the Aufbau. T h e Modal Particularist's similarity constraint [(i) above] involves making pairwise comparisons of similarity between individuals which can be similar in a variety of respects. This invariably leads to difficulties. Suppose for example that 'F', fG' and 'H' are property names. It will not in general be true that there is a property name 'J' such that something has J just in case it has F and G or has G and H or has F and H. For the Js need have no common property running through them. (E.g. F = redness, G = sphericality, E = being made of plastic). However the function f which assigns to each world the class consisting of all and only the Js of that world will satisfy condition (i) on resemblance functions. Each pairwise comparison of the Js will hold up because two things will have J just in case they are similar in respect of F or in respect of G or in respect of H. Moreover there is no general reason why such a gerrymandered function should not be maximal in this respect and so satisfy condition (ii). But then f will be counted a resemblance function, and 'J' a property name. However 'J' need not in general be a property name, depending on our choices for F, G and H. Secondly, there is what we might call the problem of exhaustion, a modal variant of Goodman's problem of companionship.^ Suppose the class of all actual and possible risibles (things capable of laughing) exhausts the class of all actual and possible human beings. Suppose also that hyenas are risible. Now we may suppose for the purposes of argument that the function which assigns to each world a class consisting of all and only the risibles 15. N. Goodman, The Structure of Appearance (Bobbs Merrill, 1966), Chapter V. R. Carnap, The Logical Structure of the World (University of California Press, 1969). Saul Kripke made me realize that the modal variant of Goodman|s problem of imperfect community holds against the Modal Particularist. 16. Goodman, Structure, op. cit., pp. 122-24. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 4 of that world will satisfy the constraints and will therefore be correctly counted a property. Call the function in question "Risibility". We also wish to recognize the kind Human Being as some resemblance function or other. But which function is it? Intuitively, not Risibility, but a function which assigns to each world a sub-class of the class assigned to that world by Risibility, namely the class of all and only the humans in that world. But this will not be a resemblance function for it will not be maximal in the required respect. There will be some world w, e.g. one with a hyena in it, such that the class which the function Human Being assigns to w omits something which will be similar in the cross-world sense to each member of every class which that function assigns to a world. The omitted thing will be similar in respect of Risibjlity. So the function intuitively associated with the general name "Human Being" will not be counted a kind. Moreover, the requirement of maximality which generates this difficulty cannot be dropped on pain of counting too many functions as properties. If the requirement were dropped, not only would the function which assigns to each world the class of all and only the cherry red things in that world be counted a property, but also any function which assigned to each world some proper sub-class of the class of all and only the cherry red things in that world. A third serious, though less decisive, difficulty for Modal Particularism has to do with the criterion for individuating properties which it implies, viz., property F = property G just in case for each world the extension of F in that world is just the extension of G in that world. This seems like too gross a principle of discrimination. For example, consider 17. Non-modal versions of both these difficulties could have been stated for the resemblance class conception of properties. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 5 the two properties having the capacity for belief and having the capacity for desire. Because of the way in which these capacities are interdependent I do not think that there could be an individual with the one capacity and not the other. That is, I can make sense neither of the idea of a potential believer ■n| who was not a potential desirer nor of the idea of a potential desirer who was not a potential believer. Although the two capacities are necessarily had by the same individuals they are two and not one. They make distinct causal contributions to the mental operations of the individuals that have them. Similar remarks could be made about shape and size. For each example of this sort the Modal Particularist's strategy is to insist that the two alleged different properties if necessarily co-extensive are not to be distinguished by any difference in the contributions they make to the causalI powers of things. This involves saying that Socrates' capacity for belief ishis capacity for desire and that his size is his shape. But this feels like stonewalling. Why couldn't properties which make different contributions to the causal powers of individuals be nonetheless interdependent in such a way that they are necessarily instantiated in the same full-blooded individuals?*** A fourth problem has to do with the Modal Particularist's paraphrase of (1) Necessarily red is a color The Modal Particularist will have names for properties, e.g. 'R' for the property of being red, 'C' for the property of being colored, and 'E* for the property of being extended. Suppose 1Ex^w (^)' denotes the function which takes worlds and properties as arguments and gives the extension of the argument property in the argument world as its values. Then the Modal 18. The force of 'full-blooded' will become clear soon; it just means individuals with more than a single characteristic. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 6 Particularist's natural paraphrase of (1) is (2) ¥w ¥x [x & Ext (R) x € Ext (G) ]w w However, this seems to miss something crucial in the content of (1). For it is also true that (3) 9w ¥x [x € Ext (R) ^ x 6 Ext (E)]w w where 'E' names the property of being extended. But it is either false or meaningless to say that 19(4) Necessarily red is an extension. A fifth difficulty arises once we ask what a possible world is. If one believed that worlds were large spatio-temporal particulars then one could include them among the individuals, which are at the first level of the Particularist hierarchy, so that they would appear as members of classes at all higher levels. Few of us are prepared to pay the price of regarding 20worlds as spatio-temporal particulars. The other option for the IS. Compare D. M. Armstrong, op. cit., vol. 1, pp. 59-61, F. Jackson, op. cit., and A. Pap, "Nominalism, Empiricism and Universals", Philosophical Quarterly, S, 1959. Each of these authors press other paraphrase difficulties for Particularism which I omit because I think that the Modal Particularist can readily handle them. For example (1) A red thing and an orange thing could be more similar than a red thing and a blue thing could be goes over as (2) 3 x3y3w^3w^ (x is red in w^ & y is orange in w^ & Vw^Vw^VzVu (z is red xn w^ & u is blue inŵ , 3 x as it is in w^ is more similar to y as xt is in w^ than 2 as it is in w^ is sxmilar to u as it is in w^) 20. For arguments to the effect that the price is not as high as we think see D. Lewis, Counterfactuals (Basil Blackwell, 1973), pp. 84-91. R. Stalnaker in "Possible Worlds", Nous, 10, 1976 adopts an alternative not available to the Particularist as I have introduced him in the opening pages above, viz. include non-spatio-temporally located and causally inefficacious possible worlds among one's individuals. R e p ro d u c e d with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 7 Particularist is to treat worlds as complex classes of some sort, classes which have individuals as ultimate constitutents. There are various alternatives as to which classes are to be taken to be the possible worlds. The central alternatives from which many variants could be developed are (i) to identify worlds with maximal classes of consistent states of affairs or propositions, where states of affairs or propositions are in their turn identified with classes of certain sorts, e.g. classes of things and properties or relations; (ii) to identify worlds with maximal classes of ordered pairs of space-time regions and properties, which encode possible 21distributions of properties over possible space-time manifolds. However, neither alternative (i) nor alternative (ii) seem to be available to the Modal Particularist. For they imply that properties first enter into the Particularist hierarchy at some level lower than that at which worlds first enter in. This is obvious in the case of alternative (ii) which involves identifying worlds with classes of ordered pairs of regions Sud propsrtxss# But it is so for alternative (i) as well. For no class without a component which deserves to be counted a property deserves to be counted a (non-relational) state of affairs or a (non-relational) proposition. The Modal Particularist is barred from employing any of these constructions of possible worlds because he conceives of properties as functions from worlds to classes. These functions are certain sorts of classes of ordered pairs with worlds in their first place and classes in their second. As such, they first appear in the hierarchy at some level higher than that at which worlds appear. It seems then that the Modal Particularist must identify possible 21. For a discussion of alternative constructions of worlds and criticisms of them see P. Bricker, Worlds and Propositions (Doctoral Dissertation. Princeton, 1983). I do not accept the method by which he determines the cardinality of the class of possible worlds. This is crucial to several of his criticisms of various constructions. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. worlds with classes which do not have properties as constituents. But how do you do that? Sixthly, the friend of universals may object against the properties as classes line in general and the Modal Particularist* s version of this in particular that the characteristics of individuals are not off in abstract heaven but are located where the individuals are located. For individuals operate causally in certain causal environments as a result of their characteristics being located within those environments and those characteristics being directly efficacious. It seems that anyone who takes the properties of things to be classes cannot count those properties or characteristics as directly efficacious. Rather, it seems that only full-blooded individuals could be allowed to be directly efficacious on such a view. But this just seems wrong. It is the weight of the dumbell that makes is so hard to lift, not the dumbell. How is the weight of the dumbell to be counted as directly efficacious by the Modal Particularist? Surely that weight is a property of the dumbell and so is identified with a class by the Modal Particularist. No class is directly efficacious even if we count it indirectly efficacious as a result of the efficacy of the full-blooded individuals which ultimately make it up. Finally, the friend of universals has an attractive way of introducing an important distinction, a way apparently not available to the Modal I9 Particularist. This is the distinction between intrinsic and partly 9 22n extrinsic properties. Depending on the individual in question, its 22. Hereafter, for short, extrinsic properties. Since properties were introduced above as things such that if two individuals have one of them then they are ipso factr similar, the idea of a completely extrinsic property of a thing, i.e. a property whose holding of a thing depends not at all on the way that thing is, is a contradiction. So talk of partly extrinsic properties is really pleonastic. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. intrinsic properties might be having certain parts, being made of certain stuff, having a certain internal structure, having a certain size, charge, or EdoS and properties which follow from those, e.g. having a certain density. Contrast the extrinsic properties of a thing, properties whose holding of a thing depend upon more than the way that thing is, that is, properties having to do with various relations between that thing and its environment, e.g. the property of actually attracting electrons, the property of being bonded to a proton, etc.. The distinction between intrinsic and extrinsic properties is a central one, close to ordinary notions such as the nature of a thing (= the totality of its intrinsics) and interdefinable with other notions likewise indispensable in doing metaphysics, i.e. in giving a general theory of how things hang together. Here are some of the relations between these notions. While a property either is or is not at all an intrinsic property of a thing, a property may be more or less extrinsic to a thing. A property is more extrinsic to a thing the less its holding of a thing is a matter of the way that thing and nothing else is. A proposition which just ascribes an intrinsic property of a thing to that thing is completely about that thing. An ascription of an extrinsic property of a thing to that thing is about some larger whole which includes the thing. Necessarily, if two things are perfect duplicates then they have just the same intrinsic properties. However, perfect duplicates can have different extrinsics in virtue of being located in different environments. The friend of properties as universals, i.e., as repeated in all the individuals which have them, has a nice way of breaking into this circle of notions. If a property is a universal wholly present in each of the many R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. -20individuals which have the property, then there is a quite literal sense in which the property is part of each of the individuals which have it. At least, this is so for intrinsic properties. A universal intrinsic to many individuals is a common part of each of them, just as a wall may be a common part of two row houses. So the friend of universals may say that a property is intrinsic to an individual just in case it is part of that individual. The notion of part employed here is just the most unrestricted notion of a part, a notion for which the axioms of mereology stated below purport to give the logic. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. T -212. The Problem with Universals The usual reason for rejecting universals in rebus concerns their independent repeatability across space and time. For example, the very same thing, a universal of unit negative charge, is supposed to be present in all the electrons that ever were, are or will be. The universal is not itself a sum of distinct parts drawn from each electron. No; its being wholly present in each electron is its being a common part of each. When a particular electron is destroyed the part of it which is unit negative charge is not destroyed but simply ceases to be part of the electron that is no more. So universals are rather peculiar if you are used to a strict diet of particulars. They do not fit the intuitions tailored for particulars. They are neither like classes nor like individuals. This would be no objection to universals if postulating them were the only way to deal with the problems facing the Particularist. As we shall see in Section 3 and Section 4, it is not the only way. But here I wish to offer a decisive objection to thinking of the characteristics or properties of things as universals present in them. This could be called the Prime Matter Objection: if you believe in universals then you are compelled to believe that each individual has an utterly characterless part which distinguishes it from its duplicates. Consider some individual and the collection of universals wholly contained within it. The collection includes that individual's intrinsics and any properties intrinsic to its parts which are not properties of it. The sum of these universals will be a sum of parts of the individual, the parts which make up the total character of the individual. So far we haven't gone beyond the doctrine of universals as outlined in Section 1. Even if the R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. T -22friend of universals rejects arbitrary mereological sums, I do not see how he can find fault with the notion of the total character of an individual. But now we should ask the friend of universals just what else there is to the individual in question. The dilemma is either nothing else or a characterless something. If there is nothing else, then the consequence is the absurd view that complete duplication - two individuals having the same total character - is impossible. For two individuals could not be made up of just the same parts, at least in the extended sense of 'part* in which a universal is a part of a thing. The other alternative is to allow that besides the individual's total character it has a further part that could not be shared by it and its complete duplicates. This further part must be utterly characterless. Otherwise what gives it its character would be universal and shared by complete duplicates. However the idea of an individual having an utterly 24characterless part is absurd. The friend of universals might try to get round this dilemma by means of a verbal maneuver. He might say that the part of an individual ether than its total character is not utterly characterless since it is united with the individual's total character. But this does not really avoid the absurdity associated with postulating a part of a thing other than its total character. For the point stands that this part has no intrinsic character, i.e. it has no characteristic as a part of it. 24. Not even a space-time region is utterly characterless. Physics studies the properties, intrinsic and extrinsic, of space-time regions. Among these properties are granularity, curvature, etc.. The space-time location of a non-regional individual - the region the individual occupies - is not part of the individual. It is extrinsic to the individual for it is not shared by individuals which are duplicates of the 1 individual. I R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 2 3 Call the part of an individual which is devoid of intrinsic character the prime matter of the individual. The absurdity of allowing that individuals contain prime matter can be illustrated by the following example. Suppose we have two gold statues, complete duplicates of each other. One of the gold statues is melted down into a gold bar which happens to be a complete duplicate of an already existing gold bar. Now what is to be made of the truth that the statue that was melted down has been destroyed on the theory that the statue was a sum of its universal parts and its prime matter? The universal parts which made it up, including the internal relations between those parts, still exist in the duplicate statue which was not melted down. So its prime matter or part of that prime matter has been destroyed. (Unless the friend of universals says this he is forced to say that the gold statue that was melted down continues to exist after it was melted down.) Now the gold bar which came into existence as a result of the melting of the statue must have come into existence with its own prime matter. For it is distinct from its duplicate. Either that prime matter is a proper part of the prime matter of the statue that was melted down or it is no part of the prime matter of the statue. On the first horn, assuming that what holds for the gold bar holds in general, we arrive at the bizarre thought that if the gold of the bar is used to make a succession of statues by successive castings and melt-downs then all of the prime matter which is part of the gold bar may be gradually used up so that eventually we will have a gold statue or a gold bar which it is impossible to duplicate! On the second horn, at least part of the prime matter of the bar produced by the melting of the statue must mysteriously come into being during the melting down of the statue. But where does this new prime matter come from? And why should not such prime matter exchanges be taking place R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 2 4 all the tine so that the ordinary individuals around us are constantly being destroyed and replaced without our ever noticing it or ever being able to notice it? Since prime matter has no intrinsic character, no part of it is a characteristic which has characteristic causal conseqences, so the substitution of one hit of prime matter for another seems to be the sort of thing which could have no causal consequences. Thus, we are not able to conclude as a result of any inference to the best explanation of observed continuity that the prime matter of an apparently persisting thing has not been exchanged unbeknownst to us. These bizarre lines of thought are indications that a philosophers' entity, of whose conditions of persistence we know nothing, has been introduced to shore up the doctrine of universals. They also indicate that there seems to be no well-motivated way of specifying those conditions of persistence. So I think we should jettison the philosophers' entity. If we jettison prime matter we must also jettison universals in rebus on pain of counting duplication impossible. In an exchange with Michael Devitt and W. V. Quine, D. M. Armstrong, by way of defending universals in rebus, says "While we can distinguish the particularity of a particular from its properties, nevertheless the two factors are too intimately together to speak of a relation between them. The thisness and the nature are incapable of existing apart from each other. Bare particulars and uninstantiated universals are vicious abstractions (in the non-Quinean sense of 'abstraction' of course) from what may be called states of affairs: this-of-a-certain-nature. The thisness and the nature 24are therefore not related." This suggests that Armstrong would reject the 24. Symposium "Nominalism", Pacific Philosophical Quarterly, 61, 1980. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. view that an individuals total character or nature and its prime matter or particularity are distinct parts of an individual. This seems to me to involve either rejecting the principle of mereology according to which there is always a proper part of a whole which is distinct from any other proper part of that whole - a principle which strikes me as very difficult to reject - or fudging on what it is for a universal to be wholly present in many particulars so that this does not come down to those particulars having a common part. Certainly, any friend of universals who believes in the possibility of duplication cannot consistently say that the thisness or particularity of an individual and its nature or total character are incapable of existing apart from each other. Compare the two gold statues; surely if the total character of the one is a sum of universals, that total character also exists separately from the particularity of that statue. For that total character is also present in the second gold statue together with the particularity of the second gold statue. In an attempt to tie particularity and character together in a way which 25makes nonsense of their decomposition, Armstrong here as elsewhere suggests that what we are primarily presented with are states of affairs, out of which we benignly abstract individuals and instantiated universals and viciously abstract bare particulars and uninstantiated universals. On the contrary, states of affairs seem to me to be composite entities made up of individuals, properties and perhaps places and times. Moreover what Armstrong calls a state of affairs, not that this thing has a certain nature or property but this-of-a-certain-nature, strikes me as obviously an individual. The phrase 25. Universals and Scientific Realism, Chapter 11, Section 111. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 2 6 - "this-of-a-certain-nature", so far as I understand it, could be used to indicate the individual involved in a state of affairs, e.g. "This-of-a-certain-nature is beloved by Mary" where the use of the demonstrative is accompanied by a demonstration of an individual. It could not be used to name a state of affairs. For example, it could not significantly fill the gap in "That ... is a fact". Despite its awkwardness, it makes sense to say "That this-(thing)-of-a-certain-nature is beloved by Mary is a fact" but it does not make sense to say "That this-of-a-certain-nature is a fact" any more than it makes sense to say "That Fido is a fact". There is a way of conceiving of an individual so that its character and its particularity are not distinct. It will be the burden of Section 3 to explain this conception. Unfortunately for the friend of universals, the conception can only be had by taking the characteristics of particulars to be as particular as the particulars themselves. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 2 7 3. A World of Cases In Section 1 we encountered grave difficulties for two natural Particularist accounts of properties and kinds. In Section 2 the major difficulty with taking properties to he universals was outlined. What then is the solution to the difficulties facing a Particularist account of properties and kinds? I contend that all these difficulties can be solved by 26recognizing some neglected individuals - the cases. Cases are the particular characteristics of ordinary individual things and of space-time regions, i.e. the particular features and doings of these things. Cases are dated particulars, they begin to exist and cease to exist at particular times. The cases which are features of individual things can be destroyed by destroying part or all of the individuals whose features they are. Their presence in ordinary individuals accounts for the causal powers of those individuals. The cases which are the doings of individuals or the undergoing of changes by individuals are events. They are involved in the causal operations of individuals. Wherever the friend of universals in rebus would see a universal instantiated by an ordinary individual, the friend of cases instead sees a characteristic of the individual which is as particular as the individual itself. Here are some sentences which could be taken to be about cases. 26. I take the term 'case* from Nicholas Wolterstorff, On Universals (University of Chicago Press, 1970). In this century cases were first discussed by G. F. Stout in "The Nature of Universals and Propositions", Proceedings of the British Academy, 1921-2, Vol. X, pp. 157-72 and "Are the § Characteristics of Particular Things Universal or Particular?" Proceedings of | the Aristotelian Society, 1923, Vol. 3, pp. 95-128, a symposium with Stout, i G. E. Moore and G. Dawes Hicks. A sub-class of the cases, the tropes, is j recognized by D. C. Williams in "The Elements of Being" in his Principles of I Empirical Realism, ed. M. Ruia (Charles Thomas, Springfield, 1966). K. K. | Campbell revives tropes in "The Metaphysics of Abstract Particulars", | unpublished. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1. The roughness of the table-top was planed away by the carpenter. 2. Diane's capacity to do long division was destroyed by the accident. 3. As the temperature rose the ice statue began to lose its shape. 4. The strength of Achilles enabled him to defeat many foes.1 5. The glass shattered when it fell because of its fragility.6 . The stabbing of Caesar by Brutus caused Anthony's desperateanger at Caesar's funeral.The underlined nominals could be taken to pick out cases. However, the brief for cases primarily concerns the work they do in providing for a plausible and systematic metaphysics. Recent fashion notwithstanding, metaphysics doesI seem prior to semantics in at least one way - we must find out what there isin order to find out what we could be talking about. So the argument for cases will in no way depend upon assuming that there is nothing moot or indeterminate about the semantic structure of such sentences or that we can I read off the nature of a case from just any ordinary language nominal whichmight be plausibly held to denote it. Since ordinary language nominals can be ambiguous or misleading it is best to invent a terminology for referring unambigously to cases. Every case or particular characteristic is a case of some type or other. It is exhibited by, is a characteristic of, some individual or other. Many cases will be ! exhibited by individuals at some but not other places and at some but not other times. So we may speak of a case of type F (or of the kind F or of the I property of being F) exhibited by an individual at a spatio-temporal region. i = Some practice in using the unfamiliar terminology may be in order. When referring to the shape of something spherical one might be taken to be referring either to the property or type sphericality or to a case of this R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 2 9 property exhibited by the particular sphere in question. ' Suppose the particular sphere in question is a ball bearing. Then as well as the case of being spherical exhibited by the ball bearing there is the case of being made of a certain portion of steel exhibited by the ball bearing. The first case is located where the ball bearing is located just as long as the ball bearing retains its spherical shape. The second case is located where the ball bearing is located so long as the ball bearing remains constituted by the portion of steel in question. By squashing the ball bearing a little the first case could be destroyed. By chipping away at it the second case could be destroyed. When a beer glass falls off a bar and breaks this is not the direct causal consequence of the dispositional property fragility, not even of the completely determinate sort of fragility had by all beer glasses of the same sort. The causally relevant factor is the fragility of the glass that fell, this being a case of that determinate sort of fragility, a case exhibited by the glass that fell and not by any other glass of the same sort. When Brutus stabbed Caesar what occurred then and only then was not the action type stabbing but a case of this - the stabbing of Caesar by Brutus - a case of stabbing exhibited by Brutus in the senate on that fateful day. Now the basic strategy in dealing with the problems outlined in Section 1 will be to include cases among the individuals and understand properties as function from worlds to classes of cases. It is no objection to this 27. Another alternative is a sequence of cases, just those cases of the shape properties which a thing exhibits over time. This may be the best account of the denotation of the nominal in "The shape of the ice statue changed radically as the temperature rose". Compare "The temperature is ninety and rising". S R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 3 0 strategy that the cases so far discussed are in one sense abstract, i.e. abstracted from the full-blooded individuals which exhibit them. For they are nonetheless not abstract in either of the senses which would bar themS from figuring at the first level of the Particularist hierarchy. They are 28not classes. They are not universals independently repeatable in many full-blooded individuals. They are spatio-tempcrally located particulars. But what of the full-blooded individuals and the ordinary kinds Cat, Dog, Table, Chair, Human Being, Beer Glass, etc. of which they are instances? How are they to be treated by an ontology of cases, sums of cases and classes of cases? If these kinds are to be thought of as functions from worlds to classes of individuals, the individuals in question had better be the full-blooded individuals Fido, Tabby, Mary, this or that particular glass, table or chair. These individuals could be treated simply as mereological sums of the cases they exhibit. However I think there is an important alternative to thinking of ordinary full-blooded individuals just as sums of cases, an alternative which will turn out to allow us to capture the distinction between the essence and the accidents of a full-bloodedI individual. This is to think of the full-blooded individual as itself acase, a case of a kind. Thus, for example, Fido will be thought of as a case of the kind Dog, Tabby as a case of the kind Cat, Mary as a case of the kind Human Being. If Fido is a case of the kind Dog, which full-blooded individual exhibits this case? The very same individual which exhibits the hairiness of Fido, the four-leggedness of Fido, and Fido's various capacities 28. Notice that they are not states of affairs. Whereas states of affairs either tenselessly obtain or do not obtain, cases begin and cease to exist at particular times. A state of affairs is a class of an individual, a property and a location and no such class is a color, weighs anything or has a particular shape. Some cases are colored, some have shapes, others have a weight. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. I 3 1 to bark, eat, drink, see, hear, etc. - Fido himself. For the case of the kind Dog which is Fido is not completely distinct from the cases of these various capacities which he exhibits. Indeed it will be argued that they stand to Fido as parts to a whole, at least in the broadest sense of 'part'. Let us call cases of kinds basic cases. Much of the argument of Chapters 2-4 will be taken up with the question of which things are appropriately treated as complexes (stuns of cases not themselves cases) and which are basic cases. Although in this chapter for purposes of exposition many of my examples of cases of kinds and properties are drawn from a naive inventory of kinds and properties I do not want to imply that scientific investigation cannot get at similarities more fundamental than those registered in the naive inventory, showing thereby the limitations of that inventory for the purpose of providing causal explanations. To the contrary, the real cases will be cases of the kinds and properties which have to be recognized in order to provide a classification of the things and features of things with which it is appropriate to terminate explanation by saying that the explanandum simply cites the essence of the thing to which it refers. Terminating explanation at such a point is appropriate because then requests for further explanation of why the thing cited in the explanandum is that way and remains that way are idle. It could not have been otherwise. Though this form of explanation is not always available it is important not to ignore it when it is available. It is part and parcel of an explanatory theory to postulate certain kinds of things such that things of that kind cannot be supposed to undergo certain changes or be without certain characteristic properties in any of the possible situations recognized by the theory. Instances of those kinds will be the basic cases which the theory recognizes. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 3 2 For the purposes of this thesis the reality of the kind Space-time region will not be questioned. Particular space-time regions will be treated as basic cases of this kind and not as mere sums of cases of material properties such as being matter-occupied or including a force field of such and such intensity. There are several advantages to be gained by generalizing the notion of 29a case to allow for basic cases. One advantage can be immediately displayed. The generalization gives a general grounding for the essence/accident distinction as applied to full-blooded individuals. In general, by the nature of cases, a case of type F exhibited by some particular could not cease to be of type F. Its remaining F is a condition of its continuing to exist. Fido's capacity to see could not become or change into a capacity to bark, indeed it could not change in any way which involved it ceasing to be a capacity to see. Moreover, it could not have existed as a capacity to bark or anything else other than a capacity to see. Thus if Fido is a case of a certain type, e.g. of the kind Dog, then it is of the nature of Fido not to be able to undergo any change which involved his ceasing to be a dog. He Is essentially a dog just as his capacity to see is essentially a capacity to see. So also, if a space-time region is counted as a case of the kind Space-time region, it is essentially a space-time region. It could not change into any other kind of thing. It could not have been any other kind of thing. Since every individual is fully determinate, for every case there will be some fully determinate or completely specific type of which it is a case. 29. See Chapter 4 where the notion of a basic case plays a central role in the development of a theory of substances. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. Any case can also be correctly called a case of any determinable which its specific nature determines. Thus Fido may be a case of the kind Living Thing, of the kind Animal, of the kind Dog, of the kind Beagle and perhaps most specifically of the kind Beagle of such and such genotype. If this last is the most specific characterization of what it is to be the case that is Fido then it has the best claim to be the essence of Fido. In general then, if the type G (the property of being G or the kind G, depending on what 'G' is) is fully determinate, then being a G is not just an essential property of a case of type G but is also the essence of that case. The essential properties of a case are those that follow from its essence in the sense outlined below [See definition (22), pg. 44]. The accidents of a case are those of its properties which do not follow from its essence. Thinking of kinds as functions from worlds to classes of basic cases and properties as functions from worlds to classes of non-basic cases is not a mere trick to smuggle in talk about essence and accident. Rather it is a straightforward development of the Particularist idea that we get into a position to think about and refer to kinds and properties as a result of a process of abstraction. Abstracting is considering some but not all of the particular details of the individuals around us. Just as one might offer a class of lines all with the same direction as what is arrived at by abstracting from the location of a line and attending to its direction, the Particularist offers a resemblance class of individuals alike in respect of a single feature as what is arrived at by abstracting from all but one feature of those many individuals. However if the Particularist omits non-basic cases, he overlooks one way of abstracting from the total detail of a full-blooded individual, a way which takes the person doing the abstracting not directly from a full-blooded individual to a property had by that R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. individual but from a full-blooded individual to what I have called a non-basic case exhibited by that individual. As we shall see, the problems for Particularism cited in Section 1 can be seen as evidence for the claim that the results of the abstractive step from a full-blooded individual to the non-basic cases it exhibits cannot be omitted in any satisfactory Particularist account of individuals and properties. Things could be left at that and much that follows could be got out by a slightly different route. However a natural development of the ontology of cases suggests itself. This involves attempting to explain what it is for an individual to exhibit a case in terms of the part/whole relation. If this succeeds then the abstractive step from a full-blooded individual to the cases it exhibits will just be the abstractive step from a whole to its parts. (If you are a Particularist who can make little or no sense of the general notion of a part employed in mereology, do not despair. There is something for you at the end of this.) The theory of the part/whole relation is given by the axioms of mereology. We may take the language of mereology to be that of the theory of impure classes augmented with the primitive predicate 'Oxy*, understood as meaning that individuals x and y overlap, i.e. have a part in common, and the predicates Pxy : x is part of y x=y : x is identical with y Sxu : x is the sum of the members of the set u Nxz : the negate of x is z defined as follows Dl. Pxy e Vz (Ozx 3 Ozy) D2. x=y s Vz (Ozx = Ozy) R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 3 5 D3. Sxu s ¥z [Ozx = 3y(ye u <80zy)] D4. Nxz s ¥y (Pyz = ~Oyx) The axioms of mereology are Al. 3yFy 3 3xSx£*z :Fz"| A2. ¥x¥y [Oxy z 3z(Pzx &. Pzy)] A3. VxOzNxz = *v-¥y Oyx) Whereas A2 and A3 are relatively straightforward, Al (an axiom schema where is an arbitrary predicate) is liable to be mistakenly resisted on the irrelevant ground that the putative sum of two things of a kind, e.g. two people, is not in general a thing of that kind. Thus by way of objection to Al, it is said that arbitrary mereological sums of physical objects are very odd entities, where this seems to mean that they are too gerrymandered and discontinuous to be counted physical objects. This latter is probably a correct observation but not at all at odds with Al which makes no claims about what kind of things such sums are. D2 and the possibility that distinct things may be spatially coincident, e.g. me and my flesh and bones, indicate that the intended notion of overlap is broader than that of mere spatial overlap, so that the parts that overlapping things have in common can be other than their spatial parts. As Leonard and Goodman themselves emphasize "In our interpretation, ... parts and common parts need not necessarily be spatial parts. Thus in our applications of the calculus to philosophical problems, two concrete entities to be taken as discrete, have not only to be spatially discrete, but also temporally discrete, discrete in 30color, etc., etc." (my underlining). This is an important observation since many of the objections to applications of mereology turn on what is from the point of view of the intended interpretation of the theory 30. Leonard and Goodman, op. cit., pp. 46-7. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. V 3 6 an overly restricted notion of a part. For example, when it is suggested that a table has no parts other than its top and its legs this is true if something like articulated spatial part is meant by 'part*. But it is false I if the intended notion of part is the broader notion employed by the mereologist. Given this broad notion of a part, the leading idea of an ontology of cases can be explicated. The leading idea is that basic cases have extrinsic or intrinsic properties in virtue of exhibiting cases of those properties. Now we can say that a basic case exhibits a case by overlapping with that case, i.e. by having some part of that case as a part. And this is typical; in general, sums of cases have extrinsic or intrinsic properties by overlapping with cases of those properties. Armed with this mereological account of the leading idea of a theory of cases we can set down the central notions to be employed within the theory by using the resources of the theory of classes and of mereology and by employing as primitives the notion of a basic case, the notion of a non-basic case and a finite number of similarity relations. We shall allow worldand region-relativized variants of Oxy - 'Oxyr' : x and y overlap at spatio-temporal region r, w ith in i.e., 9 zSz£x^ : PXjX&PXjyJ exists r. 'Oxyrw' : x and y overlap at region r in w. - and obvious extensions for 'Pxy'. Thus 'Oxy' could be read as '3r0xyr@' where denotes the actual world. We need more than one similarity relation because we wish to recognize less and less specific determinables as well as fully determinate properties and kinds. The similarity relation used to introduce fully determinate properties and kinds is to be 'Match (x,y)' read as 'x and y match*. A few remarks about this relation are in order. First, no basic case can match any R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 3 7 non-basic case or vice versa; 'Match (x,y)' holds only between pairs of basic cases or pairs of non-basic cases. Secondly, two things match only in virtue of their qualitative similarity; similarity in respect of location is not to count as qualitative similarity. Thirdly, for two things to match, the respect in which they are qualitatively similar must be a fully determinate respect; they must be as alike as two patches of the same shade or as two beagles of the same genotype. (Qualitative respects will be introduced later as class-theoretic constructions.) Fourthly, because a case of type (property or kind) G is essentially of that type, 'Match (x,y)', unlike the Modal Particularist1 s 'x as it is in w^ is similar to y as it is in ŵ ,1, need incorporate no special trick for making cross-world comparisons. In applying 'Match (x,y)' we need not consider cases as they are in each of the worlds they inhabit. A non-basic case is one qualitative way in every world it inhabits. A basic case may have accidental qualities (which vary from world to world) but it matches other cases of its kind in virtue of its essential qualities, which do not vary from world to world. Having made these informal remarks we can now give the theory of cases dfas a series of definitions and postulates. Definitions are marked by '= '. (1) x is a case x is a basic case v x is a non-basic case. (2) x exhibits y at region r =< x is a basic case & y is a case & Oxyr. Every case has a single completely specific nature. Hence (3) ¥x (x is a basic case O 3!K (K is a fully determinate kind & x is a case of type K)). (4) ¥x (x is a non-basic case 3 3!F (F is a fully determinate property & x is a case of type F)). R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 3 8 What cases are there? A basic case for every instance of a kind and a non-basic case for every instance of a property. Thus (5) ¥x (x is of kind K x is a basic case). (6) Vx (x has property F at region r ; 3y (Oyxr & y is a case of type F & F is a property)). We now define types, properties and kinds and what it is for a case to be a case of a type. In Section 1, in developing the Modal Particularist's account of properties we defined what it was for a function to be a | resemblance function united by the similarity relation :x as it is in w^ is 31similar to y as it is in • We adapt that idea here. G will be a resemblance function united by the similarity relation M(x,y) if it satisfies three conditions. First, it is to be a function from worlds to classes of individuals which exist in those worlds. Secondly, for any individuals x and y and worlds w^ and w^ then, if x£ G(ŵ ) and y€G(w^) then M(x,y). Finally, G should be maximal in this respect, i.e. there should be no individual in any world such that it bears M(x,y) to each member of every class which G assigns to a world but which is not a member of any of these classes. Now we can think of G in the following way. There is the super-resemblance class consisting of all the individuals drawn from any world which are such that they bear M(x,y) to each other. No such individual is left out. G assigns to each world the class consisting of those members of the super-resemblance class which exist in that world. Dsing the notion of a resemblance function united by a relation M(x,y), we can define a fully determinate type. 31. Pg. 11-12 above. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 3 9 - (7) G is a fully determinate type =df G is a resemblance function 32united by Match(x,y). In general, properties are resemblance functions from worlds to classes of non-basic cases while kinds are resemblance functions from worlds to classes of basic cases. Thus (8) I is a fully determinate property =df F is a fully determinate type & Vx3fa(x £ F(w) 3 x is a non-basic case). (9) K is a fully determinate kind K is a fully determinate type & ¥x¥w(x€K(w) D x is a basic case). Intuitively, a (fully determinate) property F can be thought of as follows. Consider the class of all the cases of the property spread across the worlds. Then F is a function which assigns to each world the class which consists of all the members of this first class which exist in that world. Similarly with kinds, except that classes of non-basic cases are involved. The functions which are kinds can be thought of as assigning to each world the instances of the kind which exist in that world. The functions which are properties can be thought of as assigning to each world the property instances which exist in that world. But notice a distinctive feature of the construction. A property is not a function which assigns to each world all the things which have the property in that world. For as (6) indicates, an 32. The right hand side could be spelled out in symbols as (i) Vw3!u (w is a world.3>.u is a class & ^w,û£ G & Vx(x£u 3 x exists in w)) & Vx3w3u(xe.G .D. X = < w,u> & w is a world & u is a class) (ii) ¥ x ¥ y ¥ w ( x € G(ŵ ) & y £ G(w^) ."3. Match(x,y)) (iii) 'vax¥w(x^G(w) S ¥yVw^(y€ G(w^). D. Match(x,y))). R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 4 0 individual can have a property even though it is not a case of that property. The individual can be a basic case or a sum of cases which overlaps a case of that property. Given this general characterization of fully determinate properties and kinds we are in a position to go on to say which functions correspond to which of those fully determinate properties and kinds we have names for. For example, the property of being Chinese red will be that fully determinate property such that each of the non-basic cases it assigns to any world match a paradigm case of Chinese redness. The kind Beagle of such and such a genotype will be the fully determinate kind such that each of the basic cases it assigns to any world match a paradigm beagle of the genotype. Thus the characterization of properties and kinds suggests how it is that we could be in a position to name a property or kind if we are in a position to demonstrate paradigm cases of the property or kind. The characterization also allows us to make sense of talk of two things being similar in some fully determinate respect e.g. (10) Non-basic cases x and y are similar in respect of being Chinese red x is a non-basic case & y is a non-basic case & 3 w (x 6 Chinese red (w)) & 3w^(y £ Chinese red(w^)). In general (11) Non-basic cases x otid y are similar in respect of the fully determinate property F =< x is a non-basic case & y is a non-basic case & F is a fully determinate property & 3w(xg F(w)) & iJw^y £ F(w l)). and for cases and sums of cases, (12) x and y are similar in respect of the fully determinate df - 1 -iproperty F = 3z3x^(0zx & Ox^y & Non-basic cases z and x are similar in respect of the fully determinate property F). R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. As well as fully determinate properties and kinds there are determ-irtables of less and less specificity. In building up a determinable property (kind) which has fully determinate properties (kinds) as its -t determinates, the idea is to have the determinable associate with each world a class of cases which is the union of the classes which determinates of that determinable associate with the world. To this end we help ourselves to a series of similarity relations of less and less specificity. We use them to unite the resemblance functions which are to be the less and less determinate properties. Like 'Match (x,y)' they are to hold only between pairs of basic cases or between pairs of non-basic cases. We can think of the looser similarity relations as follows. ' M^(x,y) : x and y are basic cases similar in respect of a single determinable kind of degree 1, i.e. some determinable kind which has as its determinates fully determinate kinds, specifiable using Match(x,y), or x and y are non-basic cases similar in respect of a single determinable property of degree 1, i.e. some determinable property which has as its determinates fully determinate properties, specifiable using Match(x,y). Mfl(x,y) : x and y are basic cases similar in respect of a single determinable kind of degree n, i.e. some determinable which has as its determinates kinds specifiable using M , (x,y) or x and y are non-basic cases similar in n-1 J - R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 4 2 respect of a single determinable property of degree n, i.e. some determinable which has as its determinates properties specifiable using MQ_^(x,y). Built into these looser similarity relations is a constitutive feature 33of the determinate/determinable distinction as introduced by W. E. Johnson, viz., if an individual falls under a determinable then it has one and only one determinate of that determinable. For example, if a thing has a shape it has a specific shape and only one specific shape - it must be one of triangular or circular or ..., but it cannot be more than one of these. The other constitutive feature noted by Johnson, viz. that having a determinate entails having its corresponding determinable, will fall out of the construction. [See (18).] Some of the point and consequences of choosing the (x,y)s as we have will emerge in Section 4 when we return to the problem of imperfect community. Think of the M^(x,y)s as giving out at the point at which we reach such unspecific similarities that the cases of the various determinables generated so far are alike only in respect of the formal or topic-nautral features of having some property or being a member of some kind. To use these likenesses to unify resemblance functions which are then thought of as the property of having some property or the kind consisting of all things of any kind would be a mistake. For there is no such property or kind. The attribution of the alleged property to an individual would not explain the individual's causal powers and operations, nor would the classification of the individual as a member of the alleged kind. 33. «. E. Johnson, Logic (Cambridge, 1922). R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 4 3 In general (13) G is a determinable type of degree i =d G is a resemblance function united by M^(x,y). and so (14) F is a determinable property of degree i =di F is a determinable type of degree i S ¥x¥w (xe F (w) 3 x is a non-basic case). (15) K is a determinable kind of degree i =d K is a determinable type of degree i & ¥x¥w (xeK(w)ox is a basic case). (16) F is a property =^ F is a fully determinate property v F is a determinable property of degree 1 v ... v F is a determinable property of degree n. (17) K is a kind =d K is a fully determinate kind v K is a determinable kind of degree l v ... v K i s a determinable kind of degree n. We can now state the special relation between determinates and determinables (a relation which holds, for example, between Redness and Colored and which the Modal Particularist got wrong). (18) G entails H =df ((G is a property & H is a property) v(G is a kind & H is a kind)) & ¥x¥w (x£G(w) D x 6 H(w)). The relation ... entails ... is therefore just the improper ancestral of the relation ... is a determinate of which ... is a determinable. When we have a case of the property of being Chinese red in some region it does not cohabit that region with a distinct case of the property of being red. No; the case of Chinese red is also properly classified as a case of redness and indeed as a case of any property entailed by its fully determinate nature. Similarly with kinds. Hence R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 4 4 - (19) x is a case of type H =**" x is a case & 3 G (G is a fully determinate type & .3 w (x£ (?(w)) & G entails H). j In the case ontology each case is essentially a case of any type of I which it is actually a case. The fully determinate type which a case is a case of has a good claim to be the essence of that case. We want to allow that a case has essential properties as well as its essence. For a non-basic case these essential properties will be those properties entailed by its essence in the sense of (18). But the essential properties of a basic case will not be those entailed by its essence in the sense of (18). No properties are so entailed by its essence. We need a relation between kinds and properties which holds just when the property is essential to the kind. When a property is essential to a kind a case of the kind will exhibit a particular case of the property in every world in which the case of the kind exists. Now (2), above, defined *x exhibits y it region r'. In terms of (2) we can introduce the notion of x exhibiting y in the actual world, i.e. 3 r(x exhibits y at r). But there is a natural generalization of this notion, i.e. x exhibits y in world w. Ws can now introduce the desired relation between kinds and properties. (20) G implies F G is a kind & F is a property & Vx 3 y¥w ((x € G(w) 3 y€.F(w)) & x exhibits y in world w). The essence/accident distinction is now available. (21) G is the essence of case x =^ x is a case of type G & G is a fully determinate type. df - »(22) F is an essential property of case x = j G (G is the essence of case x & F is a property & (G entails F v G implies F)). i I R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. f 4 5 i ! I df *iI (23) F is an accidental property of case x = d r (x has property | F at r & F is not an essential property of x)« Though not a definition, (6) gives the conditions under which a case x has a property at a region r. In general a case or sum of cases has a property in J1j a region by overlapping with a case of that property in that region. As we shall see in Chapters 4 and 5, the essence/accident distinction cannot be straightforwardly applied to sums of cases which are not themselves cases. But the intrinsic/extrinsic distinction is applicable to cases and mere sums of cases alike. If a case is intrinsic to a case or sum of cases then it is part of that case or sum of cases. If a case is extrinsic to a case or a sum of cases it overlaps with but is not part of that case or sum of cases. Thus (24) y is a case intrinsic to x at r y is a case & Pyxr. (25) y is a case extrinsic to x at r y is a case & Oxyr & -^Pyxr. This gives the related distinction between intrinsic and extrinsic I properties. (26) F is an intrinsic property had by x in region r 3 y (y is a case intrinsic to x at r & y is a case of type F & F is a property). (27) F is an extrinsic property had by x in region r 3 y (y is a case extrinsic to x at r & y is a case of type F & F is a property). This completes the core of a theory of cases. The rest of a theory of cases involves a full account of relations. Some of the work of relations is already done by extrinsic cases but I do not see how to make extrinsic cases do all the work of relations. It is natural to suppose that the central idea R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. of a theory of relations is that the extension of an n-adic relation at a world is an n-tuple of individuals, i.e. cases and sums of cases. The development of this idea to incorporate relations of variable adicity and cross-world relations involves several complications. So far as I can see none of these is peculiar to the theory of cases. Relations are messy on any theory. Several Particularists have told me that while they believe in spatial parts and perhaps even temporal parts they think that the notion of part is just being used with a different sense when I say with Leonard and Goodman that e.g., the color of a thing is a part of it or overlaps with it. These Particularists conclude that there is no broad notion of a part of which spatial parts, temporal parts and the various parts I would recognize as cases and which the friend of universals would take to be properties are examples. Rather, by their lights, 'part' is just being used equivocally when I speak of the top of the table as a part of it and its texture as a part of it. This is a standoff. I suggest that neither side could persuade the other without recourse to a clear criterion for the identity of senses. In the absence of such a criterion I want to mention how the theory of cases could be developed independently of any mereological basis so that most of its bounties can be accepted by all Particularists. In the alternative development of the theory (12) and (24) through (27) are omitted as are the special predicates of mereology 'Oxy?, 'Pxy* and their relativizations. We will then take as primitive the notion of a basic case exhibiting a (non-basic) case of a property at a region of space-time. Since arbitrary sums of cases are no longer admitted (6) will be replaced by (6') Basic case x has property F at region r 3 y (x exhibits y at r & y is a case of type F). R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 4 7 Everything else proceeds as before. We can also recover some of the effect of (24) through (27). We can say that intrinsic properties are necessarily shared between duplicates, not so with extrinsic properties. More exactly, a property is intrinsic to an individual at a time just in case it is necessary that if anything duplicates that individual at that time then it has the property. Then a case of a property intrinsic to an individual at a time can be called an intrinsic case. Any non-intrinsic case exhibited by a basic case is an extrinsic case. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. T 4 8 4. Cases to the Rescue I propose that the Particularist include among his initial individuals regions, occupants of regions and undetached parts of these. Once these initial individuals are understood to be basic cases and the non-basic cases which they exhibit, the problems with Particularism cited in Section I are quickly solved. The construction of properties and kinds offered in Section 3 incorporated the insights of Modal Particularism by treating properties and kinds as functions from worlds to classes. The constructions thus avoid the problems of contingent co-extensiveness and unchanging extensions across worlds. The problem of imperfect community arose for the Modal Particularist because of the nature of his pairwise similarity comparisons between individuals. The similarity relation he was employing was that of cross-world similarity in some respect and the individuals he was comparing were the sorts of things which could be similar in more than one respect. So by considering cross-world similarities in respect of F and G or H and G or F and H, where F, G and H were properties, a function could be cooked up which satisfied the Modal Particularist*s definition of a resemblance function but which nonetheless was not a property. That is, it was not in general true that the members of a class assigned to a world by the cooked-up function have a common feature running through them. The problem does not arise for properties and kinds as constructed on the theory of cases. For the theory of cases implies that if F, G, H ... are properties (kinds) then Boolean combinations of these are not properties (kinds). This is an attractive consequence for a number of R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 4 9 reasons. It not only stops the problem of imperfect community from arising but it also allows a solution to the paradoxes of confirmation. For a universal conditional statement to be projectible and confirmable its antecedent and consequent have to concern properties or kinds. If green, blue, observed and black are properties and raven is a kind then there is no property grue, no property non-black and no kind non-raven. Hence observed green emeralds confirm 'All emeralds are green1 but not 'All emeralds are grue'. And a white shoe does not confirm 'All non-blacks are non-ravens'. So it is worth seeing why Boolean combinations of properties (kinds) are not counted properties (kinds) on the theory of cases. By (4) and (6) each non-basic case has only one fully determinate property. But (19) and (6) tell us that each non-basic case has the determinable properties entailed by its fully determinate property. The similarity relations Match(x,y), M^(x,y) ... M^(x,y) were introduced in such a way as to guarantee that at each degree of determinateness a non-basic case has at most one property of that degree of determinateness. So, for example, if Redness, Blueness, Pinkness etc. are determinables of degree 1, any non-basic case of a color property will have at most one of these determinables. But also, any such non-basic case will have at most one of the wider class of determinables of degree 1, i.e. the class including net only the color determinables of degree 1 but also the mass determinables of degree 1 and also the shape determinables of degree 1, etc., etc.. We were able to build such a condition into the M^(x,y)s because we were working with non-basic cases which can only be similar in a single respect of any given degree of determinateness. (Non-basic cases have a corresponding feature. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 5 0 They ran only be members of at most one kind of any given degree of determinateness.) Since properties are resemblance functions united by the M_ (x,y)s [see (8) and (14)] we can use the features built into the M^(x,y)s to work out whether if F, G and H are properties then non-F, F and G, G or H, etc. are properties. (Hereafter, 'Match(x,y)' is to be understood as rMo(x,y)', one of the M^(x,y)s). Suppose F, G, H are resemblance functions united by M_. (x,y). Then they are determinable properties of degree j. But surely if there were a property non-F it would be of the same degree of determinateness as F. So also, if property F and property G are both of degree j then the putative property F and G would be of degree j. Moreover, the alleged property G or H is just the alleged property non- (non-G and non-H) and so by the previous claims it has the same degree as G and H have, i.e. degree j. But notice that M (x,y) will not unify two resemblance functions of the same degree if those functions (properties) are both had by two or more cases. For then the cases would be similar in more than one respect of degree j which is impossible given the way M_. (x,y) was introduced. So if G is a property and F is another property and they are both of degree j then there is no property non-F. For if non-F were a property then it would be of degree j and the cases of G would also be cases of non-F and so would be alike in two respects of degree j. Similarly if G or H were a property then among the cases of this property would be cases of G and such cases would be alike in two respects of degree j. So also if F and Gl were a property then there would be cases of it and those cases would not only be alike in being F and G but also in being F. Again we have the result that cases would be alike in more than one respect of degree R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. j, which is impossible. So on the theory of cases, Boolean combinations of properties of degree j are not properties. (One exception is left over by the reasoning above. If F is the only uncompounded property of degree j then there seems no objection to allowing non-F as a property so long as F or non-F is not allowed. But there is no reason to think | that this situation arises at any degree.) | Mutatis mutandis for kinds; (3) tells us that each basic case is a case of one and only one fully determinate kind and the M.(x,y)s are | introduced so that in general each basic case will be a case of at most one kind of each degree. What about Boolean combinations of properties drawn from various degrees? I claim that such compounds would be as unspecific as their least specific components, so that in general the degree of some putative property of the form (F and F„ and ...) or (Ĝ and G„ ...) or ... would be the maximal degree of [degree (F ), degree (F ) ... degree (G^), degree (Ĝ ) But then, by previous argument, a conjunction of the properties, F^ ... F , will not be a property. For suppose that degree (FQ_ ) = k is the maximal degree of F F . Then if F, and F„ and ... and F were a property, cases of n -1----2-------------tt this property would be alike in this respect and also in respect of F ,. So those cases would be alike in two respects of degree k, n-I which is impossible. Similarly, a disjunction of the properties F ... F^ will not be a property. For if degree (F -,) = k is the maximal degree of F, ... F then cases of F , would be alike in I n n i this respect and also in respect of F or F„ ... or F^. So these cases would be alike in two respects of degree k which is impossible thanks to the way the M^(x,y)s were introduced. (Mutatis R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 5 2 mutandis for kinds). So in general, on the theory of cases, Boolean combinations of properties (kinds) are not properties (kinds). The problem of exhaustion arises under the following conditions: F is a property or kind, so also is H. However the functions f and h with which it is plausible to identify F and H respectively are such that (i) for any world w the class which f assigns to w is a sub-class of the class which h assigns to w and (ii) for some world w^ the class which f assigns to w^ is a proper sub-class of the class which h assigns to w^. Moreover (iii) each of the members of stand in the similarity relation R to each of the members of each class which f assigns to the worlds, where R is the relation used in stating the similarity constraint on f and h. The example presented in Section 1 was one in which F was the kind Human Being and H was the property Risibility. Conditions (i) and (ii) held because we were allowing only full-blooded individuals, e.g. humans and hyenas, as members of the classes assigned to worlds. Condition (iii) held because we were only working with a single similarity relation in defining kinds and properties. We can quickly verify that the problem of exhaustion does not arise given the definitions of kinds and properties provided in Section 3. Definition (8) and claim (4) together imply that any two fully determinate properties will assign disjoint classes of non-basic -cages' to any world to which either assigns a non-empty class. Thus, a fully determinate property cannot exhaust another fully determinate property since conditions (i) and (ii) will not hold. So also for fully determinate kinds; claim (3) and definition (9) of Section 3 together imply that any two fully determinate kinds will assign disjoint classes R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. of basic cases to any world to which either assigns a non-empty class. Furthermore, no kind will exhaust a property, nor vice versa. For a kind will assign a class of basic cases to any given world while a property will assign a class of non-basic cases to that world. The only situation where conditions (i) and (ii) could be satisfied is one in which F entails H in the sense of definition (18) and F ^ H. But then F and H will not be equally determinate properties or kinds, i.e. either F will be fully determinate and H a determinable of some degree or both F and H will be determinables of some degree with F of a lower degree than H. Hence different similarity relations will be used in the definitions of F and H so that condition (iii) will not be satisfied. Thirdly, because properties are identified with functions from non - worlds to classes of basic cases, distinct capacities necessarilyA instantiated in the same full-blooded individuals can be distinguished. Socrates' capacity for belief, a case of the property of having the capacity for belief, is distinct from Socrates' capacity to desire, at least so long as there are things for which the one is causally responsible and for which the other is not. For cases are to be individuated by their causal roles. Fourthly, once we adopt a theory of cases there is no problem of finding a paraphrase for "Necessarily red is a color" which says more than "It is necessary that if anything is red it is colored". Every case of Being red is a case of Being colored. And although it is necessary that every case of Being red is extended (or located in space-time) it is necessarily false that every case of Being red is a case of Being extended (or Being located in space-time). Being red R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. a entails Being colored in the sense of definition (18); not so with Being red and Being extended. The ontology of cases also provides a way of introducing worlds as classes at a hierarchical level lower than that at which properties and kinds as functions from worlds to classes first appear. The intuitive idea of a possible world to be represented by classes of a certain sort is that of a possible distribution of non-regional basic cases, non-basic cases and sums of these over a totality of space-time regions. So the classes which will be identified with worlds will be classes or ordered pairs of regions and cases or sums of cases such that the sum of the regions represents a possible space-time manifold and the placing of the cases or sums at the regions represents a possible distribution of 34characteristics across the manifold. Of course, this construction of worlds will not give us any worlds in which there are instances of completely alien properties or kinds, i.e. properties or kinds which have no instances in our world. However we do get all the worlds we need to go on to introduce all instantiated kinds and properties as functions from worlds to classes of cases. Indeed, one might wonder if there really are irresistible grounds for recognizing uninstantiated properties and kinds and specific possibilities which cannot be patched together by re-arranging actual cases. If we wished, some worlds with alien possibilities could be artificially represented by including in the classes of pairs of regions and cases or sums of cases pairs of 34. I take possibility as primitive. The only way I know of to avoid such a primitive is to take worlds as large individuals as D. Lewis does. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 5 5 - \ regions and abstract markers (e.g. pure classes) indicating that some s alien case is to be thought of as located at the region. Sixthly, adopting an ontology of cases also allows us to maintain that the characteristics of individuals are directly efficacious. In Section 1 the Particularist was charged with making the characteristics of things classes off in abstract heaven thus leaving it mysterious how | those characteristics could enter directly into causal relations. But 5 now we see that 'characteristic* is at worst merely ambiguous for the 'A | Particularist who admits cases. Properties are in abstract heaven. No | matter, ordinary individuals construed as basic cases or sums of non-basic cases have these properties by exhibiting or overlapping with cases of those properties. Cases have at least as much claim as properties to be called the characteristics of individuals. They are the causally potent parts of individual things, they include a thing's mass, size, shape, composing matter, dispositions etc. On the theory of cases, it is the weight of the dumbell - a case of a certain weight magnitude exhibited by the dumbell - and not the dumbell, which makes the dumbell hard to lift. I conclude that cases do all the respectable work that universals do. More, they provide a wide base for the essence/accident distinction. And an ontology of cases avoids the major pitfall of an ontology of particulars and universals. It does not imply that each individual capable of being duplicated has some utterly characterless part. For the purposes of this thesis I shall adopt an ontology of cases, basic and non-basic. One issue which dominates the chapters that follow concerns which things other than spatio-temporal regions are basic R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. cases. I call non-regional basic cases substances for the reasons given in chapter 4. From the naive view which knows little of the prospects of microphysical reduction, all instances of non-regional nominal kinds - the dogs, the cups, the tables, the pianos etc. look like good candidates to be substances. Alas, it turns out that naivete must make some concessions to reductionism. Instances of many nominal kinds turn out not to be substances but complexes - certain sorts of sums of cases not themselves cases (vide Chapter 2). However, as we shall see, there are good reasons to resist the reductionist view for fundamental particles, for living things and for ourselves in particular (Chapters 2-5). The upshot is that among the individuals are regions, substances and complexes. Cases will loom large in the construction of complexes and the characterization of substances. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 5 7 Space-time points, degenerate sorts of space-time regions, are instantaneous and necessarily do not persist, i.e. exist at successive 1. Persistence Chapter 2 - Complexes moments. The question arises for the things which do persist or could persist whether or not they all persist or would persist in the same manner. A non-instantaneous space-time region is a paradigm of one sort of persister. Such regions perdure, i.e. persist through an interval of time by having a different temporal part or slice at each sub-interval of the interval. The slices of regions will simply be temporally smaller regions. Any so-called relation to consist in the holding of relations of qualitative similarity, continuity and causal dependence between distinct but gen-identical stages, phases, temporal parts, time-slices or things-at-times thereby represents the 1. The term "Complex View" is appropriated from D. Parfit, "Later Selves and Moral Principles" in Philosophy and Personal Relations, A. Montefiore (ed.), (Oxford University Press, 1973). Advocates of the view include R. Carnap, N. Goodman, D. Parfit, J. Perry, D. Lewis, R. Nozick and W. V. Quine. For Quine's version see "Identity, Ostension and Hypostasis" in From a Logical Point of View (Harper, New York, 1963) and "Worlds Away", The Journal of Philosophy, 73, 1976. References to the other proponents of the view are given below. 2. Thus R. Carnap in Introduction to Symbolic Logic and its Applications (New York, 1958), p. 158, says "A thing occupies a region in the four-dimensional space-time continuum. A given thing at a given instant of time is, so to speak, a cross-section of the whole space-time region occupied by the thing. It is called a slice of the thing. ... We conceive of a thing as the temporal series of its slices." and N. Goodman in The Structure of Appearance, p. 94, says. "When we consider the table at different moments, we are sometimes told that we must inquire into what it is that persists through these temporally different cross-sections. The simple answer Is that, as with the leg and the top, the unity overlies rather than underlies the diverse elements: These cross-sections, though they happen to be temporally rather than spatially less extensive than the whole object in question, nevertheless Complex View*' of the "identity" over time of ordinary objects which takes this four-dimensional entities aggregated out of these as perduring through time. 2 R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. j There is another way of existing at successive times, often completely j I neglected in discussions of identity over time. For this I reserve the term ; 3i 'enduring'. To endure through an interval of time is to be wholly present at j each sub-interval of the interval in question. All of the thing, in a sense to be explained, can exist at each sub-interval. So no enduring thing has temporal parts, for these would be bound to the temporal intervals which they ; occupy and so would not exist earlier or later. The history of an enduring thing does have temporal parts, but the history is not the thing. Similarly with the total position of an enduring thing - the region of space-time ; occupied by the enduring thing over its lifetime - it has temporal parts but I it is no part of the enduring thing. Whereas perduring is a matter of the holding of a gen-identity relation (i.e. the relation of being a temporal part of the same thing as ... is a temporal part) between temporal parts, enduring is not; enduring things exist at successive times without having temporal parts to be gen-identical. In the terminology of Chapter 1, an enduring thing is repeatable at each of the space-time regions at which it exists. But it is not independently repeatable. If it exists at two regions then its existence in one of these regions is part of the explanation of its existence in the ii \ other. I think that a thing cannot be accidentally a perdurer rather than an 2. Ctd. stand to it in the same relation of element to a larger totality. And as before, because these elements have certain characteristics and are related in certain ways, the totality they make up is what we call a thing, and more specifically a table." 3. D. M. Armstrong in "Identity Through Time" in P. Van Inwagen (ed.), Time and Cause (Dordrecht, Riedel, 1980) calls the view that a class of individuals endure through time the Identity view of those individuals. The motivating analogy for Armstrong is between enduring individuals wholly present from one moment to the next and universals wholly present in many individuals. Armstrong rejects the Identity view for persisting individuals. The Identity view of persons was held by Bishop Butler and by Thomas Reid. See the first appendix to Butler's The Analogy of Religion and Chapter 4 of "Of Memory" in Reid's Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 5 9 endurer nor vice versa. As we shall see, the way a thing persists through time is one of the most fundamental things about it. So I think we should say that a perdurer can persist and necessarily perdures if it persists. An endurer can persist and necessarily endures if it persists. To get a feel for the distinction first consider this example which has all the ladder-to-be-kicked-away features of Aristotle's brazen sphere. When a current of a certain strength builds up on two separated electrodes encased in a glass tube containing inert gas a bright electric flash leaps across the gap. Suppose the current is alternating very rapidly so that distinct flashes leap back and forth every sixtieth of a second. The effect is an apparently continuous beam of light between the electrodes, a beam which lasts as long as the current is on. The persisting beam is just an aggregate of relatively quick flashes none of which persists anywhere as long as the beam. The beam exists at each interval of one sixieth of a second just in virtue of there being a flash between the electrodes during the interval. There is nothing more to the beam than a succession of such flashes. It is just the sum or aggregate of discharges between the electrodes. The beam perdures. Contrast the electrodes, naively considered. At each of the successive j moments when one flash replaces another the electrodes are present in a way in which the beam is not. Naively considered, they seem not to be temporal aggregates of relatively quick entities. The hypothesis to be entertained is that the electrodes, properly considered, are not very different from the beam. They too, along with the tube and the inert gas, may be no more than temporal aggregates of relatively quick goings on. Extending this idea to cover all objects leads us to the paradoxical thought that there may be no enduring stage on which the fleeting R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. -60appearances perform, no enduring props whose continuously present natures account for what goes on - the complete Humean nightmare, a world without substance. There is a useful parallel between the problem of persistence through time and the so-called problem of cross-world identity. The two well-known theories of modal persistence - accounts of what it is for an individual to figure in various possible situations - closely correspond to the two 4theories of temporal persistence just outlined. To make the parallel explicit let us say that an individual modally endures just in case that individual is wholly present in each of the possible worlds in which it is implicated so that cross-world identifications involving that individual can be understood as strict identity claims; claims which cannot be reduced to, do not hold solely in virtue of, relations between things which have all their parts existing in a particular world (world-bound individuals). Modally perduring individuals, on the other hand, figure in various distinct possible worlds in virtue of having a distinct world-bound part or world slice in each. The world-bound slices which sum together to make up a modally perduring individual are plausibly taken to be those which stand in some appropriate counterpart relation of similarity-in-certain-respects. Thus, the truth-maker for a cross-world identification involving a modally perduring individual will consist in the holding of such a counterpart relation between world-bound individuals. 4. Cf. S. Kripke, "Semantical Considerations in Modal Logic", Acta Philosophica Fennica, 16, 1963, and Naming and Necessity (Harvard University Press, 1980). D. Lewis, "Counterpart Theory and Quantified Modal Logic", The Journal of Philosophy, 65, 1968, and the postscript to this in his Collected Papers, Vol. 1 (Oxford University Press, 1983). For a general discussion of the issue see A. Plantinga, "Transworld Identity or World-Bound Individuals", in M. J. Loux (ed.), The Possible and the Actual (Cornell, 197?) and D. Kaplan, "Transworld Heirlines" in the same volume. with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. | Notice that the difference between enduring modally and perduring modallyI i;j cannot be unambiguously stated simply by saying that when an individual 5: : endures across the worlds the very same individual exists in each of these i I worlds. For this is as true for modally perduring individuals. What must be 3 j said is that when an individual endures across the worlds it, the very samei1 individual, exists in each of these worlds but without having modal parts, i.e. without being a sum of world-bound slices. Similarly with temporal enduring, if an individual endures through time then that very individual exists at successive times without having temporal parts. The issues over the nature of persistence, whether temporal or modal, are associated with questions of reduction or supervenience. Do facts concerning the sameness or difference of individuals over time just consist in facts concerning the holding of relations of causal dependence, continuity and qualitative similarity between time-slices or time-bound individuals? Do facts concerning the sameness or difference of individuals across worlds just consist in facts concerning the holding of relations of qualitative similarity in context and content between world-slices or world-bound individuals?^ | 5. There is a slight problem with formulating the issues in this way. There is a possible position to the effect that although individuals perdure through time, the relation of gen-identity between the stages which taken together constitute a perduring individual is transcendent in that its holding between two stages does not supervene on the holding of relations of I continuity, causal dependence and similarity between those stages. I find it • hard to understand why anyone would hold such a view. It seems to imply that j although in the actual world a particular table is constituted by a succession ) of table slices such that each non-initial stage is continuous with, similar j to and causally dependent upon the immediately preceeding stage it is j nonetheless possible that the same succession of table stages should exist j with the same causal and qualitative relations holding between them and yet | not all be stages of the same table because various gen-identity relations j just fail to hold. ! I suppress further discussion of this position and of its modal analog i here. If further argument against the position is desired see the very end of this chapter where a general objection is pressed against theories of temporal perduring, an objection which would also apply to a theory which took the R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. -62These issues of reduction or supervenience are not semantic issues, though settling them may well imply something about the correct semantics for modal and tensed discourse. Nor are these issues settled just by adopting or denying the view that non-present times and non-actual worlds are concrete particulars. The distinctness of the issue of the nature of persistence from pure semantical questions and questions about the nature of times and worlds is obscured by the fact that theories of perdurance and endurance usually come packaged with semantical accounts of tensed and modal discourse and with firm views on the nature of times and worlds. It may be salutary then to investigate how far we can get in laying out the alternative views on the nature of persistence without making assumptions about semantics or taking sides on the question as to whether worlds and times are concrete or abstract entities. 5. Ctd. gen-identity relation as primitive. The objection is that on the theory, gross continuity is utterly mysterious. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 6 3 2. The Theory of Perduring David Lewis's Counterpart Theory when wedded to a little mereology gives a theory of modal perduring. Although Lewis's counterpart theoretic semantics for modal discourse takes world-bound entities as the subjects of ordinary modal predication, nothing in the postulates of the theory implies this. For all the postulates of the theory require, the subjects of ordinary modal predications, rather than being counterpart related world-bound individuals, could be hydras. Hydras, which raise their heads in many worlds, may be introduced by way of the counterpart relation. Call x a world-slice of y if x is a world-bound individual, i.e. is entirely and only within one world, is part of y and is not a proper part of any world-bound individual which is part of y. Then y is a hydra if any two world-slices of y are counterparts and y is maximal in this respect, i.e. not a proper part of any individual any two world slices of which are counterparts. Besides a little fiddle with counting, all that is required to make Hydra Theory do parallel semantic work to that done by Counterpart Theory is to construe ordinary modal predication as about the hydras. Thus "Adam could have been a woman" might go over as "Some hydra which has Adam as a world-slice has a woman as a world-slice". If the postulates of Counterpart Theory hold true in some domain of counterpart related world-bound entities then they will hold true in an extension of that domain got by adding all the mereological sums of those world-bound entities, hydras amongst them. The postulates are PI : VxVy (Ixy 3 Wy) Nothing is wholly in anything except a world. P2 : ¥x¥yVz (Ixy & Ixz.^.y = z) Nothing is wholly in two worlds. P3 : ¥x¥y (Cxy3>3zlxz) Whatever is a counterpart is wholly within a world. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. P4 : ¥x¥y (Cxy? 3zlyz) Whatever has a counterpart is wholly within a world. P5 : ¥x¥y¥z (Ixy & Izy & Cxz.D. x = z) Nothing in a world is a counterpart of anything else in its world. P6 : ¥x¥y (Ixy O Cxx) Anything wholly in a world is a counterpart of itself. P7 : 3x [Wx & ¥y(Iyx s Ax)] Some world contains all and only the actual world-bound things. P8 : 3 xAx Something is actual. The primitives of the theory are to be understood as follows: 'Wx' as x is a world, 'Ax' as x is actual, 'Ixy' as x exists wholly within y and ' Cxy' as x is a counterpart of y. To add enough mereology to have a theory of modal perduring we need only arm ourselves with the primitive 'Oxy' understood as x overlaps y and the definition D1-D4 and axioms A1-A3 of Chapter 1. We may now define the notion of a hydra within the theory. D5 WSxy = Pxy & afzlxz. & 'v*3x^(Pxx^ S^Px^x & Px^y & 3y^Ix^) x is a world-slice of y iff x is a world-bound part of y and nothing world-bound which has x as a proper part is part of y. D6 H'x = ¥y¥z(WSyx & WSzx.^.Cyz v Czy) D7 Hx = H'x & 3 y (H'y & Pxy & Pyx) x is a hydra just in case any two of its world-slices are counterparts and x is maximal in this respect. Since a hydra is just a certain sort of sum of world-bound counterparts, the existence of counterparts and A1 guarantee the existence of hydra. We now have a theory of modally perduring entities and their world-bound parts. There is a nice question as to whether the actualist R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 6 5 who believes only in actual things has enough resources among his initial individuals and their myriad sums to provide "other-worldly" counterparts and so hydra to back any plausible modal claim. But this would take us too far afield. Our main interest in Hydra Theory is as a modal theory analogous to the theory of temporal perduring. The analogy in question is a very strong one. PI through P8 and D5, D6 and D7 admit of a simple reinterpretation on which they along with D1-D4 and AI-A3 constitute a theory of temporal perduring. Understand 'Wx1 as x is a time 'Cxy' as x is gen-identical with y 'Ixy* as x exists wholly within time y 'Ax' as x exists wholly at the present time D5 is understood as defining 'x is a time-slice of y1. Any domain rich enough to satisfy the postulates thus reinterpreted and the axioms of mereology will contain four-dimensional mereological sums of time-slices. Now the leading idea of a theory of temporal perduring can be stated. Among this teeming mass of mereological sums we may distinguish a class of ordinary persisting individuals. This is done by bringing to bear the relations relevant in the persistence of ordinary individuals - qualitative similarity, continuity and counterfactual dependence. In terms of a mix of such relations it is possible to state necessary and sufficient conditions for the application of the gen-identity predicate ?x is a time slice gen-identical with the time-slice y'. Among the vast array of mereological sums of time-slices the ordinary persisting individuals are the complexes, where a complex is a sum of time-slices which is such that (i) any two of its time-slices are gen-identical and (ii) it is not a proper part of any sum of slices of which (i) is true. Thus, R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. I ■iza i 5£ ti reinterpreting 'Hx' as x is a complex, D6 and D7 can be taken over into the theory of temporal perduring.^ Call the postulates P1-P8 and D5, D6 and D7 all on their temporal interpretation along with the axioms and definitions of mereology the Theory of Complexes. The Theory of Complexes may be taken as a general statement of the view that persisting things perdure, and in particular, that ordinary persisting things - tables, chairs, atoms, people, etc. are complexes. In trying to remain neutral between various specific versions of the Complex View, little has been said about the formal and material features of the gen-identity relation. In particular the weightings of and sorts of continuity, similarity and counterfactual dependence between slices which are relevant to gen-identity have not been specified.^ Nor has it been settled whether the gen-identity relation is to be transitive. (This will depend on what is to be said about fission and fusion.) Nor has the nature of the time-bound slices been specified. In a Phenomenalist scheme time-slices could be taken to be bundles of impressions or as I would say, sums of cases of phenomenalistic properties like being a red quale, being a shape quale, etc.. However, perhaps with the sometime exception of Goodman and Carnap, contemporary advocates of the 6. It is worth making two remarks about disanalogies. Whereas the counterpart relation of comparative cross-world similarity in certain respects is not symmetrical, the relation of gen-identity is, so that the second disjunct of 'Cyz v Czy' in D6 is redundant when D6 is given its temporal interpretation. Secondly, if one believes in the possibility of the sort of time travel which results in a persisting thing being in two places at the same time one should drop P5 from the theory of temporal perduring. 7. For discussions of the relative weightings see E. Hirsch, The Concept of Identity (Oxford University Press, 1982), Chapters 1-3, 6 and 7. R. Nozick has something to say about the relative importance of the various relations factored into the personal gen-identity relation in Philosophical Explanations (Harvard, 1981), Chapter 1. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 6 7 view that persisting things perdure have supposed that the Humean nightmare is more believable if time-slices are taken to be or include mind-independent physicalistic entities. However a general view about the nature of persisting things should not depend for its formulation on the truth of Physicalism. The problem facing the Complex theorist in introducing time-slices is to find some objective, mind-independent replacement for the Phencmenalist' s bundle of impressions, something which has a claim to exhaust the character of an individual at a time. Certain sums of non-basic cases fit the bill very nicely. The idea to be captured is the idea that when a four-dimensional perduring complex persists through a time interval t its character at that time is encompassed within the region pt which it occupies (where p is the place the complex is at during t). Now various non-basic cases will exist at pt. Some of these will be cases exhibited by pt. Some of these cases and still others would have existed at the region pt whether or not the complex occupied it. Other cases which exist at the region exist there just because the complex occupies the region. We want a concrete objective representative of this last class of non-basic cases to be the time-slice of the complex at the region. Let us say then that the t time-slice of a complex of nominal kind K which exists at place p during t is the sum of all non-basic cases which exist in the region pt in virtue of fhrt region's being occupied by the complexes of kind K which occupy it. Intuitively, this is the sum of all non-basic cases which actually exist at pt minus the sum of all non-basic cases which would have existed at pt even if pt were occupied by no K. The definition allows for many Ks co-occupying a region in order to leave open the R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. possibility that the Complex theorist will take a certain position on 8fission, fusion or extreme longevity which involves this. | Two remarks about things omitted from time-slices: first, the region | pt is not summed into a time-slice. This is because the region is | extrinsic to the slice. Consider two slices which are perfect duplicates 1 of each other. They exist in different regions but have all their j I intrinsics in common. Secondly, no mention is made of basic cases of 1| non-regional kinds. An unqualified Complex View will deny that there are I such cases. For as Chapter 4 demonstrates, if there are basic cases of £ non-regional kinds (substances) then their persisting through time is not simply a matter of the holding of patterns of continuity, counterfactual dependence and similarity between things-at-times. This latter is the denial of the fundamental tenet of the Complex View. Notice that the notion of a K is used in the very definition of a time-slice of a K. This represents a certain pessimism on my part which may be unwarranted. The pessimistic thought is that there may be no useful, correct specification of the so-called spatial unity conditions on Ks for any non-regional kind K. That is, when one considers the variety of ways in which the boundaries of K may be fuzzy edged, included within or juxtaposed with the boundaries of other Ks, and also the variety of other reasons which might make those boundaries arguable, one suspects that no set of necessary and sufficient conditions not using the notion of a K and 8. For a version of the Complex View of persons which allows for such co-occupancy see D. Lewis, "Survival and Identity" in The Identities of Persons, ed. Amelie 0. Rorty (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976). The issue of fission is discussed in detail in Chapter 3, Sections 1 and 2 below. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 6 9 stating whan some case exhibited by a region is part of a time-slice of a K will have the same extension, anti-extension and areas of vagueness as our concept of the spatial boundaries of a K. This would be a problem for the Complex View of Ks if that view were offered as an analytic elimination of the notion of a persisting K in favor of other notions deemed more respectable. However, the Complex View of Ks is best offered as an a posteriori reduction made plausible by investigation into the nature of persisting Ks. As such, it is the claim that K's perdure, i.e. that there is nothing more to their persisting through time than the holding of patterns of similarity, continuity and counterfactual dependence between time-slices of Ks. In giving expression to this claim the Complex theorist needs not only to specify what a time-slice of a K is but also to characterize the content and formal features of the gen-identity relation which ties together time-slices of Ks into four-dimensional perduring Ks. So far as the content of the gen-identity relation goes, the Complex theorist can be rather cagey, saying that two K-slices are slices of a persisting K only if there is enough continuity and counterfactual dependence between the slices.^ 9. Hereafter I assume that in so far as qualitative similarity is important it is incorporated into the requirement of continuity. So far as counterfactual dependence goes, we can adapt Lewis's account of counterfactual dependence between events given in "Causation", The Journal of Philosophy, 70, 1973. Case C^ is counterfactually dependent on case Ĉ iff if Ĉ had not existed then C^ would not have existed or the probability of C^ existing would have been lower than it actually was. Counterfactual dependence between two stages is an additive weighting of the various particular counterfactual dependencies between the cases which make them up. I R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 7 0 How much is enough and what trade offs as between various sorts (e.g. mental or physical) of continuity and dependence are to be allowed? The Complex theorist should say that these specific details are to be worked out by bringing our intuitions about when Ks persist, intuitions gleaned from normal and abnormal situations, into reflective equilibrium. Rather than bolt his theory down right from the start, the theorist should first make his general theory swing with our sometimes vacillating intuitions and then go on to offer his account of just which of the equilibria compatible with the general theory he takes to be best or as good as any other. Similar remarks apply to the formal features of the gen-identity relation for Ks. On any account the relation is reflexive and symmetric. But in order to settle whether it is transitive, a specific stance has to be taken on the mooted cases of fission and fusion of Ks. The Complex theorist may well say that such cases are puzzling and that no special theory is especially distinguished by settling them in a way that is least at odds with our intuitions. It is characteristic of a Complex theorist to maintain that in such a situation there is no relevant fact over and above the facts about the special relations between K-slices and the facts about what the conventions associated with our concept of a persisting K determine or fail to determine. Once the facts about the special relations between K-slices and the relevant conventions in applying the concept of the same K over time are laid out, all the facts relevant to determining the temporal extent of persisting Ks have been specified. Thus the Complex View of some 10. Cf. D. Parfit, "Personal Identity", Philosophical Review, 80, 1971. I R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 7 1 - ! nominal kind can seem very attractive if we are inclined to say of things of that kind that their persisting through a period of time is sometimes a matter of degree or sometimes a matter of making more determinate conventions which presently fall short of settling questions of persistence for Ks. On the Complex View, whether or not a particular K persists through a period of time can be a matter of degree if the special relations of continuity and causal dependence holding between K-slices before and during that interval hold to degrees less than, but not significantly less than, the usual degree required for the persistence of Ks. Moreover, on the Complex View, our conventions can fail to generate non-collusive agreement about whether a K has persisted through an interval even when all the facts about the special relations between K-slices are known. Many of the puzzle cases of identity over time which are discussed appear to be examples of these sorts. When a wooden ship is disassembled by first taking away one plank and burning it, next taking away two planks and burning them, next three planks, etc., eventually the ship ceases to exist. As to just when it ceased to exist, i.e. as to just when there was no longer a ship-slice which stood in the special relations of continuity and dependence to earlier ship-slices which are indisputably part of the persisting ship, it is difficult to believe that there is a precise answer waiting to be discovered. For here it seems that our conventions do not and probably should not give us a sharp answer. The facts of the example seem just to involve the gradual wearing out of the relations that matter. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 3. Limitations of the Complex View The limited scope of the Complex View can be made evident even when it is cast in the general form outlined in Section 2. On the Complex View the facts about which things persist through which periods of time and exist at various places are determined by or supervene upon the facts about the distribution of property instances or cases across space-time and the relations of continuity and counterfactual dependence amongst these. This is the sense in which the Complex View is a reductionist view. Facts about persistence or identity over time are nothing more than facts about the special relations among slices (and so among non-basic cases). The way to refute such a reductionist or supervenience claim is to show that it wrongly collapses distinct possibilities. To show that the Complex View does this involves finding a pair of possible situations in both of which the same facts about the holding of special relations among slices obtain, even although different facts about identity through time hold. If the Complex theorist had omitted the condition of counterfactual dependence between slices then many such examples would be ready to hand. For example suppose that two mischievous demons, the Creator and the Destroyer, have a fascination for billiard balls. The Creator is liable to create a billiard ball just about anywhere, the Destroyer obliterates existing balls at random. By accident the Creator just happens to create a billiard ball at a spot where the Destroyer has just destroyed one. As it happens, the created ball is a duplicate of the destroyed bail. As a result there is just the sort of continuity between billiard ball slices which would have obtained if the original billiard ball had been left undisturbed. But in the one situation we R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 7 3 have replacement, in the other persistence. By the lights of several Complex theoristswhat distinguishes the two situations is that in the first situation there is not the right pattern of counterfactual I | dependence between earlier and later billiard ball-slices for this to be counted as a situation in which a billiard ball persists. Further examples which could be taken to show the importance of the right pattern of counterfactual dependence between slices have been 12offered by D. M. Armstrong and Saul Rripke. Consider two worlds alike | in that each contains a sphere of homogeneous (non-particulate) matter. In the first world the sphere is rotating at a constant velocity (with respect to absolute space or some relationist surrogate such as the fixed stars). In the second world an exactly similar sphere is stationary. Both worlds exhibit exactly similar local patterns of material continuity. That is, the distribution of material properties across the parts of the space-time manifolds where the spheres are located are exactly alike. And unless something like Mach*s principle applies to homogeneous matter, so that local differences in forces such as the difference between zero and non-zero centrifugal force must be reflected in differences in the global distributions of matter, the two worlds could be exactly alike in the distribution of material properties 13across their respective space-time manifolds. At very least, the 11. S. Shoemaker, "Identity, Properties and Causality", Studies in Metaphysics, Midwest Studies in Philosophy, Vol. 4, edited by Peter A. French, Theodore E. Uehling Jr. and Howard K. Wettstein (Minneapolis, 1979). D. M. Armstrong, "Identity Through Time", op. cit.. D. Robinson, "Re-identifying Matter", Philosophical Review, 81, 1982. 12. Armstrong, ibid. and Kripke in conversation and in lectures given in Princeton in 1978. 13. For a discussion of the Machian response to this kind of example see H. Reichenbach, The Philosophy of Space and Time (Dover, 1958), pp. 213-218. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 7 4 I example shows that a fact about whether a hemisphere which was on one side at an earlier time is on the same side half the period of rotation of the rotating sphere later, a fact about identity over time, does not supervene on local material continuities. At least this is so if these continuities are described in terms which do not already incorporate the facts about identity over time, e.g. by including information about angular velocities. For the velocity of a thing, e.g. a point on the surface of a sphere, is just the distance travelled by that thing over a 14period of time through which it persists. A third example, due to Kripke, involves two point particles, a_ and b_, heading straight for each other. There are two possibilities exactly alike with respect to the distribution of instances of material properties across space-time. The particles collide and a goes in one direction orthogonal to its pre-collision direction and b goes off in the opposite direction. Alternatively, the particles collide and Is goes off in the first direction and a_ in the second. These two possibilities differ with respect to facts about identity, e.g. whether it is a or b that is heading north after the collision. However, because we are dealing with point particles, whose centers of mass actually meet when they collide, the two possibilities may be supposed not to differ with respect to the distribution of material properties over space-time and so do not differ with respect to material continuities. Once again we seem to have a counterexample to the view that facts about identity over time supervene on facts about material continuity. There are possible 14. Perhaps angular velocity or momentum could be introduced as a primitive material property assignable to material things at instants. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 7 5 i situations which differ with respect to facts of the first sort without differing with respect to facts of the second sort. If taken at face value this third sort of example raises a difficulty for the Complex View even when the special relations uniting stages into a persisting thing are supposed to include counterfactual dependence. For it seems as if relations of counterfactual dependence should themselves supervene on the distribution of property instances, or, as I would say, the distribution of cases, over space-time. In the example of the colliding point particles the inclusion of information about counterfactual dependence between stages would only work to discriminate them if different patterns of counterfactual dependence held in the two possible worlds. But since the two worlds are exactly alike in terms of the distribution of material property instances over space-time it is hard to see how different patterns of I causal relations or counterfactual dependence could hold in the two worlds. So it seems that the Complex theorist needs to say something more about this sort of example. It won't do just to remind us that counterfactual dependence between stages is one of the special relations mixed into the gen-identity relation. Ironically, the Complex theorist could defend himself in the spirit of Naming and Necessity.^ He could say that the pair of counterexample worlds are if possible, not relevant, because not representative of any de re possibility for the kinds of things for which the Complex View is put forward as an a posteriori though necessary claim. If we discover that the fundamental particles are not point particles then they are 15. Hence I cannot see that the Armstrong-Shoemaker-Robinson line can be adapted to satisfactorily deal with this example. 16. Kripke, op. cit. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 7 6 necessarily not point particles and so necessarily their centers of mass never meet in a collision. So even if the Complex View is false for point particles it could be a de re necessary truth that every actual persisting thing is a complex. Here the Complex View and the supervenience claim it implies is being defended in the same way as one might defend Materialism, understood as the claim that all the facts supervene on the material facts, in the face of the claim that the notion of a non-material entity is a consistent one. In assessing the truth of Materialism, possible worlds in which there are spirits are not relevant unless Materialism is put forward as an analytic doctrine rather than an a posteriori claim about the nature of things in the actual world. Having outlined this sort of defence, I want to say that I do not find it wholly satisfactory since it gives too many hostages to scientific fortune. For this line of defence suggests that the Complex View is false if the true physical theory distinguishes possible situations which differ only with respect to the locations of two individuals with the same nature. Having indicated some of the ways in which a Complex theorist might defend his characteristic supervenience thesis against apparent counterexample, I want to close this chapter with an objection which does show that the scope of the Complex theory should be limited. This objection is suggested by some remarks of Judith Jarvis Thompson in a recent article.^ She claims that the doctrine of 17. "Parthood and Identity Across Time", The Journal of Philosophy, 80, 1983. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. temporal parts is a "crazy metaphysic" because it implies that "if I have had exactly one bit of chalk in my hand for the last hour, then there is something in my hand which is white, roughly cylindrical in shape, and dusty, something which also has a weight, something which was not in my hand three minutes ago, and indeed, such that no part of it was in my hand three minutes ago. As I hold the bit of chalk in my hand, new stuff, new chalk, keeps constantly coming into existence ex nihilo."^ As it stands, this is the kind of objection which the friend of temporal parts in general and the Complex theorist in particular is used 19to brushing aside. It is correct that on these views a persisting quantity of chalk will be a succession of distinct (i.e. non-overlapping) temporal parts. But it is not a consequence of either of these views that temporal parts of the quantity of chalk come into being ex nihilo. On the temporal part view, of which the Complex View 20is a specific version, a material quantity slice's coming into being implies the existence of a slice of a material quantity such that there is no other slice of that kind of quantity which is causally responsible 21for and continuous with the first slice. A material quantity slice's 18. Ibid., p. 213. 19. For rejoinders to a series of similar objections to the temporal part view see R. Taylor, "Spatial and Temporal Analogies and the Concept of Identity", The Journal of Philosophy, 52, 1955. 20. The other version is the view that although persisting particulars are successions of counterfactually dependent and continuous stages, there are further transcendent facts about gen-identity which make such specially related stages stages of the same persisting particular. Cf. fn. 5, p. 61. 21. I omit the typical temporal ordering in order to give a general characterization which allows for time-travelling material quantities. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 7 8 coming into being ex nihilo, requires not only that this condition be fulfilled but also that there be no slices of things of the sort out of which material quantities of the sort in question could be made and which are such that they are continuous with and causally responsible for the material quantity slice. Neither of these conditions are satisfied in the example of the chalk. So the charge that quantities of chalk are coming into being ex nihilo can be met. However, a related charge directed at the level of the fundamental entities out of which temporal parts or slices are constructed seems to me to hold good. On the temporal part view, when a quantity of chalk persists the underlying facts involve relations of counterfactual dependence between earlier and later fundamental material property instances, instances of the fundamental material properties found in chalk. These instances are distinct cases and the kind of counterfactual dependence between them is existential dependence, i.e. it consists in the holding of relations of the form: if had not existed would not have existed. I cannot see that this is anything but a situation which deserves to be described as one in which earlier cases of fundamental material properties bring into being or contribute to the bringing into being of later cases of fundamental material properties. Moreover, these bringers into being quickly cease to be. They are replaced by the cases they bring into being. How long do such cases last according to the temporal part view? A little reflection shows that they are either instantaneous or arbitrarily short-lived. Suppose we consider a non-instantaneous case. It persists, i.e. exists at successive times. So on the temporal part view it is composed of time-slices. Those time-slices or temporal parts I R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 7 9 His are sums of cases which are either instantaneous or have temporal parts as proper parts. And so on, either ad infinitum, getting smaller and smaller stages consisting of more and more short-lived cases, or terminating at instantaneous cases. The conception of the underlying reality of persisting material things which the temporal part view implies has now become evident. The persistence of material things is the gross effect of instantaneous or arbitrarily short-lived cases of fundamental material properties bringing into being other instantaneous or arbitrarily short-lived cases of fundamental material properties. Miraculously, there is nothing disruptive about these extremely rapid creations and annihilations. Everything goes smoothly so that for all investigation could ever reveal all that is happening is that time is passing. I find it very difficult to believe in such extremely rapid and non-disruptive creations and annihilations. A world which exhibits gross spatio-temporal continuity as a result of them seems to me to be an utterly miraculous world. For in such a world literally no part of the immediately past reality presently exists. The alternative is to think of cases of fundamental material properties as enduring - as remaining one and the same while they persist and without having temporal parts. Then gross continuity becomes less mysterious. Since cases will tend to persist unless acted upon in destructive ways a large part of the reality now present will be present in the very next instant. For example, if there are kinds of fundamental particles and so basic cases of these kinds, then many of the basic cases which made up the chalk in my hand five minutes ago will, as a result of local bonding forces, continue to make up the piece R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 8 0 of chalk in my hand. So the chalk five minutes ago will share many i J ra| parts with the chalk now. I think the best response open to an advocate of the Complex View is to qualify that view and opt for a mixed theory of persistence: endurance for material properties and kinds, perdurance for the physical objects they compose. Such a theory can look very plausible. (It also ■J deals with the example of the colliding point particles. If such particles endure then one need not suppose that facts about their identity over time supervene on facts about continuity and dependence.) The mixed theory has it that as a result of bonding forces between enduring cases of fundamental material properties and kinds there are successions of sums of such cases which satisfy the open-textured spatial and temporal unity conditions associated with one or other of '1 I our nominal kind concepts - table, chair, ship, dog, etc. On this i ! mixed theory, perdurance is a kind of secondary cuality, in the sense ofi !j being the gross effect of the endurance of the explanatorily fundamental | parts of perduring things. There are problems for the mixed theory. I do not see just how the new characterization of stages of non-fundamental material things will go once it is allowed that enduring cases of fundamental material kinds, i.e. enduring particles, make up part of the reality of such a material thing at a time. There is also the problem of a very well preserved thing which never lopfses any of its enduring parts. How could it have temporal parts? None of its parts has them. (See Chapter 5, Section 1). These problems aside, the question remains as to whether the mixed theory could provide a satisfactory treatment of instances of our everyday nominal kinds. Are all such individuals complexes? My own R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. view is chat the Complex View of fairly complicated living things is very unattractive. In Chapter 3 the problems for a Complex View of people are set out. Chapter 4 offers an alternative to the Complex View. Chapter 5 applies that alternative to organisms in general and people in particular. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 8 2 Chapter 3 - People 1. Versions of the Complex View of People A Complex View, globally applied, makes gross continuity puzzling. As well, more specific difficulties can be found with the Complex View of members of at least one class of persisting things - people. The Complex View of people, having been espoused in different forms by Parfit, Armstrong, Shoemaker, Perry, Lewis, and Nozick, has a fair claim to be called the orthodox view in the matter of personal identity.^ What unifies these theorists despite their differences is that they take people to be perduring complexes. Each either explicitly offers or allows that we could introduce a relation of personal gen-identity between person-slices or persons-at-times, where that relation is regarded as some construction out of relations of causal dependence and mental and physical continuity. Each believes that the persistence through time of a person is nothing more than the holding of this composite relation between earlier and later person-slices. A persisting person on any of these views is a sum of 2person-stages unified by the personal gen-identity relation. 1. References to Parfit, Armstrong, Lewis and Nozick were given in Chapter 2. John Perry's version of the view is outlined in "Can the Self Divide?", The Journal of Philosophy, 69, 1972 and in "The Importance of Being Identical", in A. 0. Rorty, The Identities of Persons (University of California Press, 1976), Shoemaker's in Shoemaker, op. cit. and "Persons and their Pasts", American Philosophical Quarterly, 7, 1970. 2. Of course none of these theorists explicitly introduce person-stages as sums of cases. Typically, little is said about what person-stages are. But it seems obvious that a staije must incorporate property instances which exist in the region which it occupies. And if property instances are not universals fused with regions then it is hard to see how they could be anything but cases. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. As well as differing over what weightings are to be given to u3 s psychological and to physical continuities and over whether psychological continuities are reducible to physical continuities, these Complex theorists disagree over whether the personal gen-identity relation is transitive and over what sorts of intransitivities it might permit. Thus disputes arise over which gen-identity-relations hold in a situation supposed to be one in which one person splits into two people. Since people, unlike amoebas, are not naturally apt to split, various artificial means of splitting have been discussed in the literature. Among the most compelling examples is one in which the brain of a patient whose body is ravaged by a degenerative disease is removed from his body and divided into its two hemispheres. The left hemisphere is transplanted into a receptive, brainless body. The transplant takes and a person - call him Lefty - a person with the left hemisphere of the original patient, leaves the hospital some days later. The right hemisphere is also transplanted into a receptive, brainless body. This transplant also takes and another person - call him Righty - a person with the right hemisphere of the original patient, leaves 3the hospital some days later. This sort of example can be made to seem very puzzling by the following considerations. Patients survive hemispherectomy (having one hemisphere removed). This surgical proceedure is sometimes offered for a patient with a massive and malignant tumor in one of his hemispheres. Patients who have these operations are mentally impaired, but what is suprising is that the 3. 'Lefty' and 'Righty' should be understood as abbreviated descriptions, i.e., as abbreviations of 'the person who after the operation has the original patient's left hemisphere' and 'the person who after the operation has the original patient's right hemisphere' respectively. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. Impairment is not as radical as one might have thought. The impairment is limited by the fact that capacities to subserve some mental functions are duplicated in both hemispheres. Indeed this is less so for us than for the lower animals. They show less hemispheric specialization than we do. However, there is evidence that hemispheric specialization, i.e. the non-duplication of capacities to subserve mental functions, can be limited in humans by congenital defects which cut down the amount of cross-hemisphere communication.^ Theoretically, in such a patient the capacity to subserve his mental functions could be duplicated, each hemisphere being able to take over all or most of his mental functioning. We may suppose the original patient in our example to be so. Thus we have very good reason to believe that he could survive either leftor right-hemispherectomy and no reason to think that Lefty has a better claim to be him than Righty or vice versa. But surely Righty does have a good claim to be the original patient. For suppose the attempt to transplant the original patient's left-hemisphere had failed. Would we not have regarded Righty as the original patient surviving in a donor body? For, is it not so that enough of the important relations of mental and physical continuity and dependence which any Complex theorist would regard as constitutive of the personal gen-identity relation hold between the patient before the transplant and Righty after the transplant? Certainly any Complex theorist who believes that one could survive first having one's whole brain transplanted into a brainless and receptive body and then survive hemispherectomy ought to regard the continuity and dependence between the original patient and Righty as enough to ground gen-identity. 4. One such defect is the congenital absense of a corpus callosum. On this and related matters see Charles E. Marks, Commissurotomy, Consciousness and Unity of Mind (Bradford Books, 1981). R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 8 5 An equally compelling case can be made in favor of the view that the original patient would have survived as Lefty had the attempt to transplant the patient's right hemisphere failed. In the situation imagined to be actual both transplants succeed. This leaves us with a puzzle which divides Complex theorists. Either we attempt to make sense of the claim that the original patient survives as both Lefty and Righty or we deny that the original patient survives as either. The former alternative involves denying that the personal gen-identity relation is transitive. Post-fission stages of Lefty are gen-identical with each of the person-stages prior to the fission. Those stages are in their turn gen-identical with post-fission stages of Righty. But no post-fission stage of Lefty is gen-identical with any post-fission stage of Righty. The latter alternative is also problematic. It clashes with our very strong intuition that the identity or distinctness of, e.g., Lefty and the original patient cannot be a fact which concerns the existence of some other person Righty. Questions of identity and distinctness do not seem extrinsic in this way. Lewis and Perry, who hold what might be called the Close Enough Continuer Theory adopt the former alternative. They regard any stage which is a sufficiently close continuer of a person-stage as gen-identical with that person-stage. Lewis supposes that in the example of Lefty, Righty and the original patient there were two continuant people all along - two people who shared stages before the transplanting and so were then properly counted as one - but who diverged afterwards and so were then properly counted as two. Perry supposes that there is still a third continuant person who survived the splitting and who after the splitting consists of all the stages of Lefty and all the stages of Righty. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. -86The latter alternative, in effect what Nozick calls the Closest Continuer Theory, is adopted by Shoemaker, Nozick and, with an interesting wrinkle, by Parfit. They take it that an otherwise sufficiently close continuer of a given person-stage is gen-identical with that stage only if there is no better t or equally close continuer of the given stage which is contemporaneous with the first continuer. In our example, a pre-fission stage of the original patient is equally well continued by contemporaneous post-fission stages of Lefty or RightySo on the Closest Continuer Theory no pre-fission stage of the original patient is gen-identical with any post-fission stage of Lefty or Righty, which is to say that the original patient does not survive as Lefty or as Righty. Parfit's position, so far as I can make out, is essentially this. However he also puts forward the view that such cases show that all the content of the relations that matter in gen-identity and so (sic) everything t which it is reasonable to care about in survival can be seen to hold twice ] over in the example at hand. As a consequence of this view he proposes that we should talk of the original patient surviving as Lefty and as Righty without admitting the usual implication of such talk, i.e. that surviving is a matter of (gen-)identity. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. r'* 2. Objections From the Nature of Experience A traditional objection to Hume's view that people are bundles of impressions and ideas is that this view fails to capture the sort of dependence which exists between a person's experiences and that person. Talk of people as bundles of impressions suggests that it is merely contingent that a token experience actually had by a person was had by that person as opposed to another person. For if the relations which unite impressions (or experiences considered independently of their intentional objects^) are contiguity and causal dependence then it seems that an impression actually united to one person-bundle by such relations could have been united to a different person-bundle by relations of the same sort. Indeed, it is not clear what on the Humean view makes it impossible that an impression should exist unbundled and so unowned by any person. But surely it is absurd to suppose that the very same token experience or impression actually had by Jones could have been had by Smith and at least as absurd to suppose that an experience or impression might be had by no one, indeed by no sentient being at all. In this section, objections of the same general type will be brought against the Complex View of people. It is not that it is obvious that the Complex View of people escapes the simple objections which apply to the Bundle view. Quite the contrary, one has the feeling that the only reason that such simple objections cannot be straightforwardly pressed against the Complex View is that Complex theorists have skirted the question of the synchronic unity of a person - i.e. what unites a cluster of personal characteristics and mental 5. This is the way in which I am thinking of experiences throughout this section. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. and physical events into a single person-stage. The relations they would most naturally appeal to - contiguity, continuity, and causal dependence - are just Hume's. It is hard to see how they would do better than he did. The objection that the Closest Continuer Theory implies that a person's token experiences might have been had by a different person can be pressed in a more roundabout way. Consider a variant on the example of hemisphere transplantation outlined in Section 1. The original patient's left hemisphere is transplanted into a brainless and receptive body. The transplant takes and a person. Lefty, leaves the hospital sometime later with the original patient's left hemisphere fully functioning as the material basis of his I (Lefty's) mental life. Down the hall, in a different operating theater, doctors are frantically trying to transplant the original patient's right hemisphere into a different receptive and brainless body. They happen to fail. So in this variant case on the Closest Continuer Theory the original patient survives as Lefty. Lefty's experiences are experiences of the person who is the original patient. Consider one of Lefty's post-operative fj experiences - a particular stabbing pain behind his eyes at a particular time ■a soon after he wakes up. This experience is actually had by the person who is the original patient. But it might not have been had by that person according to the Closest Continuer View. To see this, consider a possible alternative to the situation being supposed to be actual. The doctors frantically working with the right hemisphere down the hall could have succeeded in transplanting it so that as well as Lefty we could have had Righty after the operation. On the Closest Continuer Theory, if this had happened then the original patient would not have survived as Lefty or as Righty. The abbreviated descriptions 'Lefty' and 'Righty' would then pick out people who came into being after the R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. transplanting operation. However, even in this possible situation the sequence of stages constituting the original patient and Lefty and the relations of continuity and dependence between those stages are exactly the same as they actually are. All that differs is the doctor's success in the operating theater down the hall. Thus it is legitimate to suppose that in this possible situation Lefty wakes up as he actually did and has the very same token experience of the stabbing pain at the same time as he actually had it. But in this situation the person who is the original patient is definitely not having the experience in question, at least according to the Closest Continuer View. A further twist can be given to this type of objection. Suppose that when Lefty wakes up and has the pain in question, the doctors are still struggling with the right hemisphere in the room down the hall. One hour later they fail to transplant the hemisphere. Their failure depended only on last minute bad luck at the quantum level which led to certain biochemical events which led to tissue rejection and ultimately to failure. Then according to the Closest Continuer Theory at the time at which Lefty had the pain it is indeterminate whether or not the original patient is having the pain! This is a matter of fact which is only settled some time later. As against this, surely the fact as to whether or not a person is having an experience at a time is something settled at least by all the facts concerning just what happens up to and including that time. Notice that these consequences about the ownership of experiences are just sharper illustrations of a more general defect of the Closest Continuer Theory - viz., that it makes gen-identity between stages much too extrinsic a matter involving, e.g. goings on in rooms neither stage is located in at times after which both stages have ceased to exist. Of course in one sense any theorist can invent R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. any sort of relation he likes and call it 'gen-identity*. But the more extrinsic a matter its holding between stages seems to be the less it will I seem to be adequate as the unity relation which unifies a series of stages into one and the same continuant person. For we don't believe that questions about the cross-time identity of people are such highly extrinsic matters. Nor is the Close Enough Continuer Theory immune to serious objections from the nature of experience. (Here I deal with Lewis's version though the same points directly apply to Perry's version.) It does not straightforwardly allow the kind of flip-flop of ownership of token experiences which arises on the Closest Continuer Theory. But it does have some curious consequences of its own. The theory's treatment of fission is predicated on the possibility of two continuant people sharing pre-fission stages. Lefty and Righty are both the original patient or, less obscurely, 'the original patient' turns out to have been a rotten definite description. After the fission event we can distinguish two patients, Lefty and Righty, who were indistinguishable before the event. Before the event they had just the complement of hands, feet, thoughts and experiences which one person would normally have. Looking back on one such token experience Lefty and Righty could each truly say that he had the experience in question. As against this I take it that our ordinary intuition is that necessarily each token experience is had by one and only one person. It might be thought that a Close Enough Continuer theorist could do some effective haggling over this intuition. He might say that on the Complex View person-stages are the primary bearers of a person's experiences, so that part and parcel of adopting the Complex View is supposing that our intuitions apparently about the relation between a person and his experiences are R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. properly cast as intuitions about a person-stage and its experiences. The Closest Continuer theorist might also be thought to benefit from this sort of haggling. Instead of the intuition that a person's having an experience is not extrinsic to the person we are given the intuition that an experience's being included in a person-stage is not a matter extrinsic to that stage. However I think that either version of the Complex View violates one of these recast intuitions. Consider a case of non-instantaneous fission as a depicted in Fig. 1. M N W /' / / / M m/m + g fission ends fission begins A'lE.VTSL LI PE O F Ct m■ / / / A MBNTfiL L.IFE OF FtC.Z The fission begins at t and ends at t + y . C^ and are continuant people with stages partially overlapping to less and less a degree as the fission continues on. There will be such continuant people so long as it is not the case that a person comes into being when the fission begins and ceases R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. to be when the fission is over and then is replaced by two people who come into being when the fission is over. This latter is inconsistent with the Close Enough Continuer View of fission which has Ĉ and Ĉ stage-sharing even before the fission and is grossly implausible anyway. So we assume partially overlapping stages. a stage of C , and a stage of C2> are such stages. They are to be as short-lived as one likes. The figure omits any information as to whether and exist before the fission or not since we want to remain neutral between the two versions of the Complex View which we are attempting to discredit by this one example. At each time between t and t+ Ĉ has a stage at that time and has a stage at that time and those stages partially overlap. As time goes by within | this period later pairs of stages share less and less until once the period is over stages of Ĉ are wholly distinct from stages of Ĉ . Let us take t + £ as our representative time and and S2 as our representative stages. These stages overlap. Person-stages are supposed to include the characteristics - | features and occurrences - associated with the person during the periods which those stages occupy. So when person-stages overlap there is the possibility that a token experience occurs in the region of overlap. The Complex View seems to have no well-motivated way of ruling out this possibility on its own terms. For its conception of the unity of a person-stage is like its conception of the unity of a person. The unity is aggregative and what justifies the inclusion of an experience among the other characteristics summed or aggregated into a stage are relations of causal dependence and continuity. But then it does seem possible that such relations could tie a single experience to two distinct but overlapping stages, as for example in the case of non-instantaneous fission. However^admitting this R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 9 3 possibility puts one at odds even with the recast intuition that an experience is necessarily associated with one and only one stage. Finally, the Complex View seems to clash with our intuition that.although an experience which a person is having can be more or less vivid or intense, his having it cannot be a matter of degree. It cannot be the case that a person partly has an experience and partly does not. However, the relations of continuity and dependence which according to the Complex theorist unite a single stage to a sum of stages can hold to various degrees. So the Complex theorist has the resources to make sense of the idea of an experience included in a person-stage being partly had by a person who partly includes that stage. Moreover in a situation where the relations of continuity and dependence between person-stages gradually wear out, i.e. hold to gradually decreasing degrees, the Complex theorist can make sense of the idea that whether a particular experience is had by a particular person could be a matter to be settled by extending our conventions for cross-time identifications of persons. But neither of these ideas should be made sense of. | Corresponding to many of these intuitions about the experiences of people there are intuitions about people which the Complex View appears to flout. Just as we suppose that whether a person identified earlier is presently having an experience cannot be a highly extrinsic matter, nor a matter of degree, nor a matter of convention, we also suppose that whether that person presently exists cannot be a highly extrinsic matter, nor a matter of degree, nor a matter of convention. The Complex View in one or other of its forms seems apt to violate these intuitions. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 3. The Complex View and Self-Concern If we discover that the adoption of a philosophical view rationally requires a radical change in our cherished practical attitudes then we should look again at that view. If we really do cherish those attitudes and the practices they make possible then the required change must be weighed as a considerable cost of adopting the view in question. So the alternatives to the view in question become correspondingly more attractive. And if there are other objections to the costly view then the alternatives may look very attractive indeed. This is the situation with respect to the Complex View of people and our parochial biases in favor of our friends, our familiars and ourselves. Let us introduce a little terminology in order to state precisely what the Complex View of people implies about these attitudes.^ Suppose we call any end, activity or state of affairs towards which an individual has a strong pro-attitude a project of that individual. Now among a person's projects we may distinguish his ego project, viz. that he himself continue to exist, and other more full-blooded personal projects, e.g., ends which he might formulate as 'that 1 develop these capacities which I have', 'that I help these people to flourish', 'that I support this organization', 'that I make these contributions', etc. The characteristic feature of these personal projects is that for them to be realized, conditions essentially involving the person himself must be satisfied as well as conditions involving the world in general. So a person's personal projects are not achieved if someone else 6. My terminology is taken from J. Perry, "The Importance of Being Identical", op. cit. which gives a version of the more general argument from the Complex View to Neutralism stated here. Perry seems to endorse what I call Neutralism but he does not face up to its unattractive consequences for other-regarding attitudes. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 9 5 just like him takes his place in the world and brings about the general conditions required for the satisfaction of the first person's personal projects. Such a replacement could achieve or fulfill only the impersonal counterparts of the original person's personal projects; for short, the original person's impersonal projects. These are projects which he might formulate as 'that capacities of this rort be developed', 'that these people be helped to flourish in these ways', 'that this organization be provided with the kind of support that a person like me is well equipped to provide it', 'that these contributions be made'. These specify conditions on the world which could obtain even if the person whose projects they are were to cease to exist. There is a thesis in the theory of value, a thesis appropriately called Neutralism, which has it that a person's personal projects are only derivatively valuable. That is to say, one's personal projects are worthy objects of pursuit only in so far as their impersonal counterparts are worthy objects of pursuit. Neutralism allows that one might have good reason to have the personal projects one does in fact have. For those projects may for practical purposes be among the best instruments one can employ in the achievement of impersonal value. This will be so when the impersonal counterparts of one's personal projects are worthy objects of pursuit and one is well-adapted to achieve those impersonal projects because of one's history and nature. One's ego project is also justified under these circumstances. For its fulfillment is a necessary condition for one's pursuit of one's personal projects and pursuing them may be among the best ways in which one can achieve valuable impersonal ends. Indeed since one's impersonal projects will be as detailed and ramified as their personal counterparts one may be the only effective executor of one's impersonal projects that there will ever be. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 9 6 ua I take it that Neutralism is an extreme and implausible thesis. At the other extreme there is an equally implausible view - Radical Egocentrism - which has it that while each person's. personal projects are non-derivatively valuable to him and him alone, his impersonal projects are not at all worthy objects of pursuit but perhaps projects he has reason to advertise in order to persuade others to fall in with his ends. As against both Neutralism and Radical Egocentrism, I take it that we are right to value the carrying out of our personal projects both non-instrumentally and because they serve the worthy impersonal ends that are their impersonal counterparts. If intuitions against Neutralism need to be stirred up the following fantastic case serves nicely. Suppose weakness cf will is discovered to be due to the prevalence of a certain chemical in the frontal lobes of the brain. Now weakness of will, i.e. not being motivated by an end in proportion to the extent to which one finds it valuable, is a defect which tends to make us poorer executors of our impersonal projects than we otherwise might be.^ So, from the Neutralist standpoint among others, weakness of will is a significant evil because a significant obstacle to the achievement of impersonal value. The discovery of the biochemical conditions of weakness of will prompts the hope for a cure. A joint NEH-NSF committee eventually constructs an enkrasia machine designed to eradicate weakness of will. Most people believe that the machine harmlessly extracts the offending chemical from the brain of any patient who is enclosed within it. But in fact the real process is quite different. The offending chemical cannot be extracted without destroying the patient's brain. No matter, the enkrasia machine employs a replicator which | 7. For this conception of weakness of will, see G. Watson, "Free 3 Agency", The Journal of Philosophy, 72, 1975.--------------------I R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. reads off all the details of the patient and produces a duplicate exactly like the patient except that its brain does not contain the offending chemical. Unfortunately there is a drawback. The reading off kills the person who gets into the enkrasia machine. However it is painless and instantaneous and does not leave any unseemly mess. More, the joint committee are sworn to secrecy about the actual working of the machine. People come out of the enkrasia machine feeling great. They are forceful, assertive and pursue their projects with vigor. Never do they fall foul of acedia, torpor or irrational discouragement. From the Neutralist point of view the world is a better place with more impersonal value being realized. None of the "patients" suspect their real origins and with time even the members of the joint committee come to repress their own knowledge of the details of the machine. Thus the nightmarish side of Neutralism emerges. Presented with such a case or some close variant on it, the Neutralist will approve of what has taken place, recognizing no disvalue in the painless and unmoumed replacement of a person by a near duplicate who is a better executor of the original person's impersonal projects. | I contend that the Complex View supports Neutralism. How is it that the Complex View could have such a consequence? On the Complex View the fact of my surviving through a period of time is a complex fact involving the holding of mental and physical continuities and dependencies between things existing at sub-periods of time within the period of time in question. Once the fact of my surviving is treated as a fact which can be broken down in this way, i.e. into qualitative continuity and causal dependence, we can describe a pair of cases, one in which I survive and one in which I am replaced by a duplicate, so that the two cases are alike in respect of qualitative continuity and differ only minimally as to the causal facts which hold in them. If the cases R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 9 8 I I are correctly chosen the minimal causal difference between them will not seem very important or worth caring about. So if I adopt a Complex View of myself it will seem that everything that it is rational for me to care about could be secured by the existence of a duplicate which replaces me. Neutralism quickly follows. The only projects which I can share with the duplicate which replaces me are my impersonal projects. But if everything it is rational for me to care about could be secured by the existence of the replacing duplicate then my personal projects are at most only valuable derivatively. That is, my pursuing them is worth the trouble only because in pursuing them I pursue their valuable impersonal counterparts. The burden of the argument from the Complex View to Neutralism rests on the step from the Complex View to the claim that everything that it is rational for a person to care about could be secured even if he were to be replaced by a duplicate. Suppose that a Complex theorist follows Perry and takes the important relation in personal gen-identity to be mental continuity secured by its normal cause, i.e. the survival of the brain subserving the mental life in question. Then relative to this account of what is necessary for a person to survive, i.e. the holding of sufficient mental continuity between person-stages, continuity due to the survival and continued operation of the brain associated with the earlier person-stages, there will be possibilities of replacement which seem to be as good as survival. For example, consider so-called "beaming down" from the starship Enterprise, a process which involves obliteration in the "teleporter" room of the starship, transfer of information down to earth, and the rapid constitution of a person just like the one who got into the "teleporter" room. In such a situation there is strong mental continuity between the person-stage in the "teleporter" room and R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. the person-stage which appears on earth. But that continuity is not secured by its normal cause, i.e. the uninterrupted survival of a brain. So, on the version of the Complex View in question, so-called ''beaming down" is not a process which any person survives. However, if we simply consider the difference between mental continuity secured by its normal cause and mental continuity secured by the process involved in beaming down, i.e. consider it independently of any claims made for this difference by the Complex View in question, then it is hard to see how the causal difference is worth caring about all that much. To dramatize the point, suppose a Perry-style Complex theorist came across an advanced society of human beings who believed that there was no problem about "teleportation". How could the Complex theorist get them to see just what important thing was missing from the process of ''beaming down"? He might say "None of you actually survive this process." But one of them could respond as follows. "Just so if we accept your account of the crucial relation in survival. However, on your account, all the important difference between what occurs in a case of "beaming down" and in a case of survival comes down to is that in "beaming down" the mental continuities present in a case of survival are not produced by the usual sort of causal process. You seem to think that each one of us should care about that difference. But this i fi| seems to us to be a childish preference for one sort of cause over another. Suppose you had the choice between putting your washing machine into the "teleporter" and having it transported across country at great cost. Either way, a washing machine exactly like the one you now own will arrive at the intended destination. Would you accept the extra expense because you think that one of these causal processes by which continuity of the washing machine sort is secured is better than another? Surely, considered as processes in n R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. -100the world, which is what they are, neither causal process is better than, more valuable than, the other. To think otherwise is to adopt a bizarre superstition about certain causes. Similarly, consider the two causal processes which might produce equally good executors of my impersonal projects - the persistence of my brain and the propagation of an energy beam. What is so much better about the first as opposed to the second simply considered as processes in the world? You say that only if my brain persists will I survive but your theoretical account of my survival makes it seem not importantly different from what happens in "teleportation"." Like Perry, I think that considerations of this sort show that, on the Complex View in question, the significance of gen-identity, and so of survival, is derivative. While survival almost always guarantees the mental continuities worth caring about, those continuities can be secured independently of survival as in the case of "beaming down". Everything worth caring about in caring about one's survival could be secured by my duplicate who appears at the other end of the "beaming down" process. Now the argumentative strategy just employed is quite general. Presented with any specific version of the Complex View of people with its account of the continuities and dependencies which are crucial in survival, we can then run through a version of the argument. First, cast the theory in a form in which it says that some future person sufficiently continuous with me is the same person as me only if such and such causal dependencies hold between me now and that person then. Next, contrast an example which the theory does count as an example of survival with an example where the right pattern of causal dependence deemed necessary for survival is not present but in which exactly the same continuities of the sort which the theory deems necessary are found. Then ask whether the difference in causes is enough of a natural R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. ili difference to justify our special and non-derivative concern for our future selves, a concern which we would withhold from our future replacements even though they could be indistinguishable from our future selves in all intrinsic respects. Either the Complex theorist admits that there is nothing to justify our non-derivative concern for ourselves or he is committed to a bizarre superstition about the value of certain causal processes per se. Outlining this argument from the Complex View to the view that everything that it is worth caring about in caring about one's survival could be secured by a duplicate by whom one is replaced may make us wonder whether Neutralism ;§ is not right after all. Isn't there something unjustified about non-derivative self-concern, i.e. concern which one would not extend to one's duplicate. Isn't such non-derivative self-concern simply unjustified egocentrism? Not if we take our ordinary intuitive judgements seriously. Suppose, for example, that a duplicate of me is made and the duplicate and I fall into the hands of my enemies who offer me the choice between suffering forty-five minutes of intense pain with death at the end and allowing my duplicate to jj undergo an hour of the same sort of pain and then be killed. Now, ordinarily, we would think that anyone who underwent the torture and death himself, rather than have another suffer slightly more, was morally heroic. We would not regard him simply as doing what reason requires. Rather, we would regard him as giving more weight to other-regarding reasons and less weight to self-regarding reasons in a way that few of us could manage. This is why we suppose that it would be supererogatory to choose torture and death for ! oneself in such a situation. Not so on the Neutralist's view of the 1 situation. We may suppose that the duplicate would be as good an executor of i I my impersonal projects as I would be. On the Neutralist view, my only reason R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. si\*138SI*a 1 0 2 for valuing Byself and my continued existence is that this typically offers the best chance for the fulfillment of my impersonal projects. So, in the situation described, every reason I have to value myself and my continued existence is countered by a reason to value the duplicate and his continued existence. Hence the natural reaction "But it's me not him who will suffer and die and surely that's a reason for me" is just mistaken on the Neutralist view. The weight of the reasons that there are for me to sacrifice myself are decisive. The consideration that if I choose to suffer and die then someone who could execute my impersonal projects would suffer less just straightforwardly settles which is the rational choice. This strikes me as an absurdity. So far from thinking of someone who reasoned in the Neutralist way as admirably free from unjustified self-concern, we would instead regard him as alienated from his own life. For what are these impersonal ends that one has and which, according to Neutralism, one is supposed to regard one's life as an instrument for the promotion of? Most of them, I suggest, are fairly grubby, circumscribed and unheroic. If the worth of one's life were to be measured only in terms of its contribution to them, one might rationally feel that it would be better to quietly disappear from the scene and let someone else take over, someone with better ends as well as better resources to achieve those ends. Fortunately many of us find the living of our own life valuable independently of the contribution it makes to our impersonal ends or to impersonal value in general. For me and for my friends and familiars it is a good thing that I, as opposed to some duplicate, go on living. On the Neutralist view this thought is just a mistake. As I have just suggested, Neutralism gives a distorted picture of the nature of more than self-regarding reasons for acting. It also counts irrational a bias which is a constitutive feature of friendship. Suppose I R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. believed that Neutralism were true. Then I would believe that everything that it is rational for my friend to care about in caring about his survival could be secured if he were to be replaced by a duplicate. But how can I rationally be more discriminating on his behalf than I believe that he ought to be on his own behalf? Should I not also conclude that everything that it is rational for me to care about in caring about his survival would be secured were he to be replaced by someone indistinguishable from him? If my friend were to discover that I held this view he might reasonably object that I did not care for him for his own sake, that he was for me a mere means to the end of being in a relationship with someone with a certain complex of features. There would be something right about this rebuke. Friendship does involve valuing the friend for his own sake and not just as a means to certain valuable ends whether they be his own or mine. And as friendships become more intimate this is more pronounced. We can understand a husband who cares little when he discovers that his wife recently replaced her wedding ring with a duplicate after the original was lost. But what are we to think of a husband who discovers that his wife was recently replaced by a duplicate and remains just as calm? I suggest that we are for ourselves and for our friends and familiars more than loci of impersonal value. If we need to speak of agent-centered value and the corresponding reasons which we often invoke 'He's m£ friend', 'It's m%_ country', 'It's m£ life' then so be it. For these are the values that the Neutralist fails to recognize as his advocacy of the use of the enkrasia machine and his account of self-regarding and other-regarding attitudes illustrate. The consequences of Neutralism and so of the Complex View, which implies it, seem not only false but also like the symptoms of a pathology. And it R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 0 4 seems to me that the cause of that pathology is the failure to properly locate the difference between a continuous series of short-lived people and a single person living his life. The difference is a straightforward one - it is the difference between there being several cases of a kind and one case of a kind - among the most familiar and intelligible differences that there are. The Complex View of people wrongly assimilates this difference to another which does not matter to us in the same way, viz., a causal difference. This is why Neutralism is a characteristic consequence of the Complex View of people. I suggest that very few of us can really bring ourselves to accept Neutralism. g So we should seek an alternative to the Complex View of people. Chapter 4 provides a general alternative to the Complex View. Chapter 5 shows how that alternative provides an appealing account of personal identity. 8 . Tom Nagel has suggested that if continuous replacement by duplicates were to be the norm then we might reasonably come to be concerned about the series-person which included us in the way we are now concerned about ourselves. We might love series-people instead of people and come to think of the enkrasia machine as a wonderful invention. That is as it might be. Given world enough and time, what we fundamentally care about might change considerably. But this does not affect the present point. Our present pattern of concern is not what might represent a reasonable adaptation in bizarre futuristic circumstances. And it is in terms of that present pattern of concern that we must measure the cost of adopting the Complex View with its attendant Neutralism. The cost is great as the previous remarks indicate. We do not diminish the cost by imagining it already paid and so no longer felt as a cost. Imagine for example what changes in thought and attitude we would have to undergo in order to come to believe that being replaced did not really matter. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. Chapter 4 - Substances Substance, in the truest and primary and most definite sense of the word is that which is neither predicable of a subject nor present in a subject; for instance, the individual man or horse. Aristotle Categories 2all-13 1. The Characterization of Substances The complexes of Chapter 2 are certain cross-temporal sums of non-basic cases. Though a Complex View of all ordinary individuals - tables, chairs, men, horses - is frequently adopted, it is important to see that it is not inevitable. An alternative is to see some of these ordinary individuals as substances, as basic cases of non-regional kinds. There are many divergent strands in the tradition of thought about substance. However, there is a broadly Aristotelian conception of substance on which basic cases of non-regional kinds seem to be good candidates for the title of substances. First, they are not properties or kinds but individuals and so not predicable of or said of many individuals. Secondly, they are not particular characteristics or non-basic cases and so are not present in or exhibited by other individuals.^ Thirdly, it will be argued that basic cases of non-regional kinds show "the most distinctive mark" of substances - i.e., they endure, they "remain numerically one and the same while receiving contraries" (Categories 4al0). Of course it would be the wildest anachronism to suggest any of this as an exegesis of one of Aristotle's notions of substance. All that is being 1. Here I follow Gareth B. Matthews and S. Marc Cohen, ("The One and The Many", Review of Metaphysics, 21, 1967-8) who take Aristotle's condition that substances not be in a subject to exclude particular characteristics such as Socrates' knowledge of grammar. These particular characteristics are my non-basic cases. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 0 6 iIM 1 suggested is that the conception of substances as basic cases of non-regional kinds is a fruitful descendant of one strand of thought about substance; fruitful because it organizes our thought about individuation, essence and persistence, because it shows the appeal of hyVomorphism and because it allows us to treat the question as to which things are substances as an empirical question. Whatever its historical antecedents, the conception of substances as basic cases of non-regional kinds is a useful corrective to a degenerate conception of substance that is about in contemporary metaphysics - the so-called Bare Particular View, the idea of a substance as a characterless 2substratum in which properties inhere. The notion of a bare particular gets its appeal from a false opposition. Philosophers are driven to it by finding difficulties with the conception of individuals as purely qualitative, as bundles or sums of properties. Adopting the case ontology already makes nonsense of the view that an individual might be a bundle or sum of properties. Properties are classes and mereclogical summation is only applied to individuals. But individuals cannot be classes of properties either, for no individual is a class. So on the case ontology no clear sense is to be made of the notion of individuals as bundles of properties. Individuals could be sums of cases, indeed complexes are just such things. This is the most that can be made of the confused thought that 2. See G. Bergmann, Meaning and Existence (Madison, University of Wisconsin Press, 1960), E. Allaire, "Bare Particulars", Philosophical Studies, 14, 1963, V. C. Chappell, "Particulars Re-clothed", Philosophical Studies, 15, 1964. For an attack on the common view that such was Locke's conception of substance see C. B. Martin, "Substance Substantialized", Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 58, 1980. I argue below that recent talk of haecceities is not free of the major weakness of the Bare Particular View. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 0 7 individuals are bundles of properties. It does have the advantage of avoiding the major objection to the Bundle View. For if individuals are sums of cases, perfect duplication, i.e. two or more individuals having just the same properties, is certainly possible. Adopting the case ontology not only prevents the Bare Particular View from living off the weaknesses of the Bundle View. It also allows a conception of substance which avoids the weaknesses of the Bare Particular View itself. Thus it takes us entirely beyon*' the false opposition of individuals as bare particulars versus individuals as purely qualitative. The major weakness of the Bare Particular View is that it implies that things have implausibly impoverished essences. To see this, think of a bare particular in terms of the pejorative, but here not too misleading, analogy of the coat hook. By hypothesis the hook is to have no qualities. So how could it be metaphysically or logically impossible for any quality to be hung on to the coat hook? No reason, unless we surreptitiously invest the coat hook with a qualitative nature which excludes certain qualities from being added. So if I am a bare particular I have no qualities essentially. I could have been, could become and in other possible situations, now am, a poached egg. Thus the Bare Particular View allows individuals more change and modal variation than we could ever bring ourselves to believe in. The corresponding argument does not go through for basic cases. For any 3basic case there is a unique fully determinate kind of which it is a case. A case of the kind Beagle cannot cease to be a beagle, always was a beagle and cannot be taken to figure in a possible situation in which it is not a beagle. Taking substances to be basic cases of non-regional kinds does involve 3. Cf. (3) of Chapter 1, Section 3. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 0 8 regarding them as primitively distinct, i.e. involves allowing that they could be distinct even though exactly alike. However, this does not involve thinking of substances as including or being some entity different from their 4nature or character. Rather, on the case ontology natures always are in the first instance individual, fully particularized. We get to the notion of a nature common to many distinct individuals by abstracting from the individuality of many individuals similar in a certain respect. Thus on the case ontology the problem of the relation between the individuality or haecceity of individuals and their qualitative nature is a pseudo-problem produced by failing to recognize that the notion of a kind or a nature common to many individuals is an abstraction from those many individuals. Thinking of substances as basic cases of non-regional kinds amounts to thinking of them as individual natures. In this way the extremes of both the Bare Particular View and the Bundle Theory are avoided. Duplication is possible and we get the primitive distinctness that the Bare Particular View provides without the bizarre possibilities of change that it implies. It seems to me that there is a remnant of Bare Particularism in recent talk about haecceities. If Haecceitism as applied to substances is the | doctrine that it is not in virtue of any qualitative feature that a particular substance is this rather than that instance of its kind then Haecceitism for substances is a consequence of the view that substances are basic cases. Any two basic cases of the same kind could be perfect duplicates having just the same intrinsic properties or qualities. And in the possible situation in 4. I distinguish between the nature or character of a thing - the totality of its intrinsics - and its essence. Individuals may have non-essential intrinsics. 5. On haeceeities see D. Kaplan, "How to Russell a Frege-Church", The Journal of Philosophy, 72, 1975, and R. M. Adams, "Primitive Thisness and Primitive Identity", The Journal of Philosophy, 76, 1979. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 0 9 which they are duplicates they will not be distinct in virtue of their different spatio-temporal relations. For surely they will have different spatial locations at different times because they are distinct. Thus although we can perceptually and demonstratively distinguish basic cases of a kind we cannot characterize what that distinctness consists in. Basic cases of a kind are in this sense primitively distinct. However, this is not to endorse the further view, advocated by D. Kaplan and R. M. Adams, to the effect that we can speak of the haecceity or thisness of an individual where the haecceity of an individual is not that individual but something intimately related to it, such as the property of being that individual. First, on the case ontology there is not in general such a property for any given individual. For Kaplan and Adams understand the property of being Fido, for example, as a constant function from worlds to the unit class consisting of Fido.^ But if Fido is a basic case then this function would not be a property.^ And if there are other basic cases of a kind with Fido then g this function would not be a kind. If Fido is a non-basic case then the function in question will be a property only if one of the M^(x,y)s is such 9that Fido bears it only to himself. Hence the function in question will be a property only under very rare circumstances. Moreover it will definitely not be a property if Fido is a substance and so a basic case. Thus substances will not have haecceities in the Kaplan-Adams sense. 6 . Ibid. 7. Properties are functions from worlds to classes of non-basic cases which are united by one of the M.(x,y)s including Match(x,y). Cf. (13) and (14) Chapter 1, Section 3. 1 8. Cf. (13) and (17) of Chapter 1, Section 3. 9. Cf. (16). R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1i-i 1% ■'V 1 Secondly, as well as finding no place for an unshareable property like the property of being this substance, the case ontology has no place for the more general conception of an haecceity as a non-qualitative aspect of an individual which is different from that individual. This can only be a vicious abstraction of the same ilk as the bare particular or the prime matter of Chapter 1. For suppose that there was such a thing as my thisness or haecceity. By hypothesis anything which has it is me. However, because it is non-qualitative its being had by some thing does not imply that the thing has some specific sort of qualitative nature. So why couldn't my haecceity be associated with the nature found in the members of the kind Macropus Major? The sheer claim that nothing with my haecceity could be a kangaroo is embarrassingly weak once it is admitted that my haecceity is a non-qualitative aspect of mine.^ For why should having that aspect exclude having any combination of qualitative features? The conclusion is that on the case ontology if one must speak of the haecceity of an individual one can only mean to refer to that individual and indicate that its distinctness from other individuals is not a purely qualitative matter. The history of ancient and modern metaphysics shows that it is mistaken to introduce a queer non-qualitative entity - bare particular, prime matter or a necessarily single-instanced "property" - to guarantee such distinctness. 10. Adams makes the sheer claim in op. cit, pg. 24-5. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. -1112. Essence and Accident The conception of substances as basic cases supports essentialism of an attractive sort. Substances have essences; these essences are not artifacts of our classification procedures and so are not merely nominal. They are real features of substances. By the nature of cases, if a is a case of type F exhibited by a basic case b_ then necessarily and for any time t if a. is exhibited by b at t then b_ is F at t. Now if a is a basic case then the basic case which exhibits a is £ itself.This is so necessarily and at every time at which a exists. Hence if a is a (basic) case of kind K then it is not possible for a_ to exist while a_ is not a K. If K is a fully determinate kind then being a K is not just an essential property of a. Rather, since to be â just is to be a case of the kind K, being a K exhausts the whole of a/s essence. The essential properties 12of a are just those which follow from its essence. As well as having an essence and essential properties which are determined by that essence, a basic case of a kind will also happen to have other properties - its accidents. It will happen to have them in virtue of its essence, location and relations to other things. If desired one can say that a substance has its accidents at a place, time and world while it has its essence absolutely, not relative to any place, time, world or anything else. Here then is a clear and motivated distinction between accidental and essential properties grounded in the nature of substances understood as basic cases. I venture to say that this is just the kind of "Aristotelian essentialism" which Quine demanded that the friend of quantified modal logic 11. Cf. (2) of Chapter 1, Section 3. 12. Cf. (22). R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. IS i| i i.'l II f-33 ':S -11213show makes sense. It seems to make perfect sense. If there is no contradiction in the notion of a basic case then there is no problem as to the meaningfulness of a sentence like "Fido is essentially G and accidentally F". Such a sentence will be true if and only if the property of being G follows from the essence of' Fido and the property of being F does not, even though Fido is F. Notice that on the case ontology, the modal adverbs 'essentially' and 'accidently' need not be treated as quantifiers over possible worlds. Rather, their function can be more realistically represented as indicating modes or ways in which individuals have properties. The corresponding truths about individuals and worlds, e.g., that Fido is G in every world in which he exists and is F in the actual world but not in every world in which he exists, will be guaranteed by any construction of possible worlds to be necessarily equivalent to the truths about the ways in which Fido has the properties F and G. However sentences cast in possible worlds discourse seem to me not to capture what talk of essence and accident is about. Just as the advocates of cross-world identities typically have the intuition that a sentence like "Fido is essentially a dog" is not about otherworldly dogs similar to but not identical with Fido, my intuition is that it is about Fido and his way of being a dog, not about the way Fido is in myriad worlds. This is not an objection to the standard possible worlds model theory for modal systems nor to its usefulness in explicating talk about essence and 14accident. The model theory does make it easier to think out the | 13. Word and Object (John Wiley, 1960), Section 41, "however venerable | the distinction [between accident and essence] it is surely indefensible; and surely [any] construction ... which so smoothly implements it must go by the board." 14. Cf. S. Kripke, "Semantical Considerations in Modal Logic", Acta Philosophica Fennica, 16, 1963. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 1 3 consequences of modal claims. Indeed, the account of 'essentially* and 'accidentally' as characterizing ways of having properties is directly at odds with one sort of dismissal of the standard model theory for modal systems, viz. that it is purely formal in that it has no interesting application to ordinary individuals because nothing can be made of the unrelativized distinction between these things' essential and accidental properties, a distinction which a modal system is apt to implement.^ Moreover, the account of essence and accident just given is at odds with an alternative semantics for modal sentences, one typically put forward as part of a defence of a theory of nominal essence. According to this theory, a thing's essential properties are had relative to the principles or criteria of re-identification which are being applied to it. For example, a theory of nominal essence would have it that which essential predications are correctly made to a golden statue depends upon whether we consider it as a statue and trace it over time and across the worlds in terms of the causal and qualitative conditions for re-identifying statues, as opposed to considering it as a portion of gold and tracing it over time and across the worlds in terms of the conditions associated with re-identifying portions of gold. Such a theory of nominal essence has widespread support. It has been advocated by A. Gupta and A. Gibbard as a partial response to Quine's criticisms of modality, especially the third grade of modal involvement (quantifying into the scope of modal operators). Gupta elaborated the work of A. Bressan to develop a formal system suited to make sense of constructions like 'x qua K is essentially G' where the 'qua K' 15. Cf. Quine op. cit. Section 41. J.J.C. Smart has endorsed a similar dismissal in correspondence. The friends of nominal essence sometimes endorse this part of the Quinean criticism, e.g. A. Gupta in The Logic of Common Nouns (Yale University Press, 1980), Chapter 4. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 1 4 condition is supposed to carry with it the criteria in terms of which x is to be traced across the worlds.^ Earlier D. Lewis and D. Kaplan had embodied this sort of idea in counterpart theories with multiple counterpart relations. ^ Indeed, one could capture the central idea of the theory of nominal essence whether one operated with Lewis's Counterpart Theory or Chapter 2's Theory of Hydras (sums of counterpart related world-bound individuals) so long as one had multiple counterpart relations, i.e. multiple criteria for cross-world identifications. Thus, employing Counterpart Theory as it applies to an example of Gibbard's, when a lump of matter - call it Lumpl - comes into being at the same time as a statue - Goliath - which it constitutes and ceases to be at the same time as the statue ceases to be we are inclined to say (1) Lumpl is Goliath However we are also inclined to say that (2) Lumpl could have survived being squashed. Goliath could not have. How then are we to avoid the inconsistency got by substituting in (2) on the basis of (1), viz. (3) Lumpl could have survived being squashed. Lumpl could not have. The Bressan-Kaplan-Lewis-Gibbard-Gupta line is essentially (qua line) this: the position held by 'Goliath' in (2) even if de re, i.e., outside the scope of the modal 'could have', is not referentially transparent, i.e. does not support substitution of co-designative terms salva veritate. This is because 'Goliath' as a name of a statue is performing more than a referential 16. A. Bressan, A General Interpreted Modal Calculus (Yale University Press, 1972). A. Gibbard, "Contingent Identity", The Journal of Philosophical Logic, 4, 1975. A. Gupta op. cit. 17. D. Kaplan "Transworld Heirlines" (1967) in Loux op. cit. D. Lewis, "Counterparts of Persons and their Bodies", The Journal of Philosophy, 6 8, 1571. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 1 5 i I function in (2). Rather it, perhaps with the cooperation of the context, is also indicating a counterpart relation or set of necessary and sufficient qualitative conditions for tracing Goliath across the worlds - if you like, the ,!statue"-counterpart relation. This gives a trans-world heirline or pattern of tracing across the worlds for Goliath which is different from the one we would get if we employed the "lump of matter"-counterpart relation invoked by the name "Lumpl". Since what could have happened to a thing is on this view what happens to at least one of its counterparts, the truth-values of the modal predications in (2) are sensitive to which principle of cross-world tracing or counterpart relation is invoked by the explicitly used name or the implicit backing count noun or by context. That is why we have (2) true and (3) false. The substitution of co-designative names alters the tracing principles in terms of which the relevant modal predications are to be evaluated. To get the flavor of Nominal Essentialism it may help to develop a corresponding theory for temporal predication. Suppose the lump of matter presently constitutes the statue so that we are inclined to say (1') Lumpl is Goliath Yet the oracle tells us that (2*) Lumpl will survive being squashed, Goliath will not. How are we to avoid the contradiction (31) Lumpl will survive being squashed, Lumpl will not. The parallel theory of temporal predication would have it that although 'Lumpl' and 'Goliath' denote the same stage, a stage existing at the period during which (1')-(3*) are uttered, these names do more semantically than merely denote. They carry with them, perhaps via the associated nominal 'lump of matter' and the associated count noun 'statue', distinct gen-identity R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 1 6 criteria. Necessary and sufficient qualitative conditions for being a stage of the same persisting lump as Lumpl is a stage of are somehow associated with the stage name 'Lumpl* and necessary and sufficient qualitative conditions for being a stage of the same persisting statue that Goliath is a stage of are associated with the name 'Goliath*. Since a stage will 'survive' being squashed only if it is gen-identical with a stage which exists after the squashing, the question as to whether the stage referred to twice over in (1') will survive is sensitive to which of the two names is used in putting that question. This diagnosis of what is going on in (1') through (3') is implausible for anyone who thinks that names like 'Lumpl' and 'Goliath' denote longer lasting things than stages. Notice that one could accommodate this intuition and give a solution with the same ontology as that employed by the first solution. On the first solution, there are two complexes, i.e. two sums of stages united by two different gen-identity relations. The second solution accepts this, sees the names 'Lumpl' and 'Goliath' as picking out these two complexes, and takes (1*) as simply asserting that the two complexes share a stage. This second solution would be akin to a variant theory of Nominal Essentialism which took names like 'Lumpl' and 'Goliath' to denote different hydras, i.e. cross-world sums of world slices. On this variant (2) is taken to express the proposition that (the hydra) Lumpl has a slice in a world in which (the hydra) Goliath has no slice. Either theory of Nominal Essentialism is wholly alien to the conception of essence which the notion of a basic case supports. As noted in Section 1, Haecceitism holds for basic cases so that they are not distinct in virtue of qualitative differences. Hence no qualitative sufficient conditions for their identity or distinctness over time or across the worlds can be found. At most R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. -117their qualitative essences generate necessary conditions of cross-time and cross-world identity. So there are no modal or temporal counterpart relations for basic cases, at least in the sense of qualitative conditions that would determine which cross-time or cross-world identifications are true. Moreover we may be fairly ignorant about which things are basic cases and about what their essences are. Thus, so far from our competence with respect to 3S judgements like (2) and (2 ') being properly represented or even idealised as the ability to apply necessary and sufficient qualitative conditions for cross-world and cross-time identifications, we mostly have only a partial grasp of necessary conditions. Examples of this could be multiplied. There is a legend to the effect that when a band of Australian aborigines first saw James Cook's ship they thought it was a large bird sitting in the water. Did this prevent them from correctly tracing its path through the water? When the Uranians invade us with their humanoid robots, for all practical purposes indistinguishable from human beings, do we then need to know that the robots can survive having their original heads screwed off and a new head screwed on in order to have justified beliefs about which robot is which in the ordinary course of events where no unscrewing takes place? We do not, and this suggests that qualitative criteria play at most an evidential role in making cross-world and cross-time identifications. In the temporal case an hypothesis of persistence is reasonably accepted if it is the best explanation of the observed qualitative similarity and continuity across time. In the modal case, where a possibility involving a particular individual is stipulated subject to correction due to discovered violations of the nectary conditions on cross-world identity generated by the individual's essence, cross-world R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 1 8 similarities of certain sorts can constitute evidence that no such violation is made by the stipulation. This is just how the epistemology of cross-world and cross-time identifications involving basic cases would go. As we discover more about the nature and essence of the basic case in question our hypotheses of cross-time and cross-world identity concerning it will be more informed and secure. If we were to discover that what we had taken to be basic cases of a putative kind were really complexes then there would be a motive for adopting the nominal essence theory with respect to these entities as part of the revision which the discovery prompts. For such a discovery would amount to the discovery that basic cases of the putative kind in question did not have to be recognized in an explanatory theory of the world. If all the phenomena involving the putative basic cases could be accounted for in terms of the cases of properties which made them up then ipso facto there would be good grounds for regarding the putative basic cases as mere sums of cases. There would be no further distinctive causal role for the putative basic cases to play once the causal roles of the cases of properties which made them up had been specified. For this to be so, the non-basic cases associated with any putative basic case would have to explain, when taken together, the synchronic and diachronic unity of the putative basic case. If this can be done then what was taken to be a basic case can then be represented as a complex - s mere cross-time sum of cases not itself a case of a real kind. It is natural to think that this can be done for one member of a putative kind | only if it can be done for all members. The kind itself will then turn out to be purely nominal, a useful classification for everyday purposes but not a classification of indispensable explanatory import. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. pass ;t3 1 1 9 There is an important general point here about the relation between the substance/complex distinction and the real essence/nominal essence distinction. A mere stun of cases not itself a case of a kind will have only a nominal essence. That is, the truth value of modal claims concerning that sum should be taken to be relative to some cross world tracing procedure we have reason to adopt in the contexts in which the cln^ms are made. The modal facts about a mere sum of cases are not determined solely by its nature, i.e. a mere sum has no real essence. Nothing in the nature of a sum of cases not itself a case of a kind distinguishes some or other of the cases which make it up as especially important or essential to it. All the cases which are intrinsic to the sum are on a par. Each is part of the sum. Prior to our classificatory activity no case intrinsic to the sum stands in any important relation to the sum which another does not. So if we were to suppose that the modal facts about a mere sum were determined solely by part of its nature it seems that we would then have to suppose either that all the cases which are intrinsic to the sum are essential to it or that none of them are. However, for those mere sums of cases which are persisting complexes it is very implausible to suppose either that they could not have been different in any intrinsic respect or that they could have been different in every intrinsic respect. So there seems no plausible way of filling out a doctrine of real essence for complexes. Of course, relative to a scheme of cross-world identification modal distinctions can be made for complexes. Thus, one might think that nothing originally made of completely different matter from the table on which I am writing could be that table, so that a table of the same shape made by the same manufacturer from completely different planks would not be my table. But this seems simply to reflect a justified attitude to the effect that nothing R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. ■I "3. 3 '3 ' -5■ y IS -120made of completely different matter should be counted as my table. What justifies the attitude is the fact that adopting it meshes with plausible gen-identity and stage-unity conditions for tables. If a table made from completely different matter could be my table then it seems that my table could also have been constructed from its actual original matter so that in the one possible situation we have two claimants to be my table. On any reasonable account of the gen-identity and stage-unity conditions for tables the two tables cannot be supposed to make up a single table which is my table. So we have a conundrum which is avoided by the adoption of the cross-world constraint that tables cannot come into being with matter completely different from their actual original matter. Adopting such a constraint on the cross-world tracing of tables is thus pragmatically justified. However, the thought that the constraint is dictated by the real essence of my table ana of tables like it will not stand up to scrutiny. Consider a series of possible worlds. In each world in the series a table is made from certain matter (planks) according to a certain design. The first world is the actual world in which my table is made according to the design. The tables made in the other worlds in the series are also made according to that design. But as we move through the series less and less of my table's actual original matter is used to make a table in a given world. In the last world of the series, a table is made according to the design from matter completely different from my table's actual and original matter. The differences between the matter used in successive worlds can be made as small 18as one wishes. Which of these worlds represent possibilities for my 18. Compare R. Chisholm, "Identity Through Possible Worlds: Seme Questions", Nous, 1, 1967; S. Kripke, Naming and Necessity op. cit p. 51, fn. 18 and N. Salmon, Reference and Essence (Princeton University Press, 1981), Appendix 1. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. -121table? The constraint just discussed tells us that while the first world in the series (the actual world) does, the last world in the series does not. If the constraint were dictated by my table's nature then there is a modal fact determined solely by my table's essence, a fact to the effect that for some pair of successive worlds w^, in the series, w^ represents a possibility for my table and does not. Now we have a real puzzle. Surely my table could have been constructed from slightly different matter so that w^ is not the actual world but some world later in the series. Consider w^ , w^ and wi+^. The difference between the material origins of the table in w^ and those of the table in w^ is of exactly the same degree as the difference between the material origins of the table in w^ and those of the table in w^+ . Yet, while the table in w^ is my table, as is the table in w^, the table in is not. How is it that the real essence of my table, an essence present in ŵ , 19allows the one material difference and not the other? The Nominal Essentialict's proposal for tables and for complexes in general therefore looks appealing. On that view all we really have is a series of tables in worlds such that each table in a world is very similar in origins to the immediately preceeding table in its world. Independently of some motivated way of filling out the 'qua table' condition so as to provide criteria for cross-world identifications of tables, there is no fact of the matter about which of the tables in worlds represent possibilities for the table on which I am writing. (And there is no need to suppose that the 19. I think that this kind of example raises a general problem not satisfactorily dealt with in any discussion of it, viz. how can a thing with a real essence have only a proper part of its actual original matter essential to it? I think that the answer Is that it cannot. As to what else could be essential to a thing with a real essence and as to why a table could not have such things essential to it see Chapter 5. i R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. -1224 cross-world identifications made relative to a way of filling out the 'qua table' condition are matters of strict identity. For on the Nominal Essentialist view of things of a sort, modal predications are not about the essence of such things understood as parts of them which are wholly present in all and only the worlds which represent possibilities for those things. Rather, cross-world identifications are just ways of keeping track of which modal claims about those things we are prepared to accept.) Nominal Essentialism seems right for complexes and for mere sums of cases in general. But it is wrong for basic cases and so for substances. These have a real essence which it is up to us to discover, not to invent or gerrymander for our own purposes. fl R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 2 3 3. Essence and Endurance The upshot of Section 2 is that basic cases of kinds have real essences, i.e. parts of their objective natures which limit what properties they could have. Modal predications made of things with real essences can be understood as remarks about the ways in which such things have or fail to have properties. Real essences were contrasted with nominal essences. A thing has a nominal essence if facts concerning which properties it could have are determined not by its objective nature but by the conventions of cross-world tracing we are prepared to apply to that thing. It was suggested that it is very plausible to suppose that complexes have nominal essences. Now, if we could establish that any sum of temporal parts which is not a space-time region has only a nominal essence then it would follow that basic cases of non-regional kinds are not sums of temporal parts. Since any perduring thing is a sum of temporal parts we could conclude that basic cases of non-regional kinds do not perdure but rather endure, i.e. exist at successive moments without having temporal parts. Any perduring thing is a sum of temporal parts; that is the nature of the thing. The question whether a perduring thing could have a real essence is | the question whether some part of its nature is correctly understood as | | determining what properties the perduring thing could have and must have. | There is an immediate obstacle to thinking this way about a mereological sum of temporal parts. It is difficult to see how any one of these temporal parts could be more important or central to the sum than any other. All the parts seem to be on a par so that all of them seem to have an equal claim to be I essential parts of the sum. So either all the parts of the sum make up its real essence or none do, which is to say that it has no real essence. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 2 4 As against this, one sight suppose that the original temporal parts of perduring things have a special status. Although a perduring thing's history might have taken a very different turn after it came into existence, it might 20be thought that it could not have had a radically different origin. So a perduring thing's actual and original stage might be thought to be essential to it even though its subsequent stages are not. This suggestion turns out to be ultimately unsuccessful so far as locating a real essence for a perduring thing goes. It was argued at the end of Chapter 2 that the temporal stages of a perduring thing are either instantaneous or arbitrarily short-lived (i.e. as short lived as one wishes so long as they are still divisible and so temporally extended). It is a consequence of the suggestion that only origins are essential that the part of a perduring thing's nature which is supposed to comprise its essence is very short-lived indeed. It does not exist at times later than the thing's origin. How can it then constrain the properties had by later temporal parts of the thing? All that comes to mind is the possibility outlined at the end of Chapter 2. Parts of the initial stage of a perduring thing - cases of fundamental material properties or kinds - could endure and be part of later temporal parts of the perduring thing. Such cases might be the parts of a perduring thing's nature which constrain the properties it could have and come to have. A little reflection shows that this is not so. It is hard to believe that any structured perduring thing is such that necessarily most of the cases 20. This would amount to a sort of essential origins thesis for perduring things. On the necessity of origins see S. Kripke, Naming and Necessity (Harvard, 1980), pp. 110-115, N. Salmon, Reference and Essence (Princeton, 1981), chapter 7 and C. McGinn, "On the Necessity of Origins", The Journal of Philosophy, 73, 1976. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. I'i>3 ,;a which originally constitute it constitute it at all later times at which it exists. For extreme longevity is always a possibility for a perduring thing. And among the long lives possible for any structured perduring thing are lives in which new cases of fundamental material properties or kinds gradually take P'! the places of the original cases of such properties and kinds. Once such replacement is complete, none of the original parts of the perduring thing are still parts of it. On the hypothesis about the real essence of perdurers under consideration, the parts that then make up the perduring thing are not essential to it. After the replacement is complete we are left without any candidates to be essential parts of the perduring thing, parts which constrain what subsequent changes are possible for that thing. The upshot is that if we suppose that the real essence of a perdurer consisted of some of its (original) cases, whether perduring or enduring, then we cannot allow that it survives the loss of those parts. Otherwise we would be allowing that it survives the loss of its essence, which is incoherent. However, it seems possible for any perdurer to survive the loss of such parts. So it is difficult to see how a perdurer can have a real essence of the sort in question. :| Some philosophers have taken it that any mereological sum and so any perduring thing has (or would have if it existed) a real essence - an essence 21consisting of all of its parts. This amounts to Mereological Essentialism - no sum of actual things could have had any parts different from those it 22actually has. Mereological Essentialism implies that no perdurer could 21. Cf. P. Van Inwagen, "The Doctrine of Arbitrary Undetached Parts", Pacific Journal of Philosophy, 62, 1981. 22. On Mereological Essentialism see R. Chisholm, "Parts as Essential to their Wholes", Review of Metaphysics, 26, 1973. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. i-3 126have come into being with matter even slightly different from that which actually and originally constituted it. This is counter-intuitive; and it is only the beginning of the counter-intuitive results which follow from Mereological Essentialism for perdurers. The doctrine is at odds with such intuitions as (i) that a perdurer could have been longer or shorter lived and so could have consisted f of more or less temporal parts and (ii) that some of the cases which comprised a perdurer's temporal parts might not have done so due either to the perdurer possibly undergoing some vicissitude, e.g. chipping or deformation, which it actually did not undergo, or to the perdurer possibly not undergoing some vicissitude which it actually did undergo. The only perdurers for which Mereological Essentialism is plausible are space-time regions. Non-instantaneous space-time regions will have only sub-regions as parts. It does seem plausible to suppose that a non-instantaneous region could not have consisted of sub-regions different from those which actually made it up. However, I do not see any real chance for Mereological Essentialism as applied to non-regional perdurers. Having failed to find real essences for non-regional perdurers we are not in a position to understand modal claims about perdurers as claims just about the relation between the real essence of the perdurer and certain properties. The alternative is to give a counterpartor hydra-theoretic treatment of claims about perdurers. Non-collusive agreement about which properties are essential and which accidental tc members of a certain class of perdurers is then to be explained not by our common knowledge of the real essence of the perdurer but rather by our tendency to adopt a certain scheme of cross-world tracing for perdurers in the class, a scheme which amounts to treating certain R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. ■-1 . 'ji 1■ J!3 1 1 2 7 features of the perdurers as more important than other features which they have. Thus if we are inclined to suppose that every table is essentially not a poached egg, our belief that this is true is explained as the result of our tendency not to count anything poached egg-like as representing a possibility for a table. Relative to a counterpart relation constrained in this way, it is true that my table is essentially not a poached egg. However, on the counterpart-theoretic view of this remark, all the remark amounts to is a certain de dicto necessity, namely that necessarily no counterpart related to my table by such a constrained counterpart relation is a poached egg. Moreover, on the view in question, any bizarre modal remark about the table could be made true as long as a sufficiently unconstrained counterpart relation was invoked. The nature of the table plays a very limited role in determining the truth value of a modal remark on this view, most of the work is done by the counterpart relation or scheme of cross-world tracing. Non-regional perdurers have only a nominal essence. Essentialist claims about them are to be construed as de dicto truths necessary in virtue of the nature of the perdurer and the counterpart relation or scheme of cross world tracing which we have adopted. Though we may have reason to adopt some rather than other counterpart relations when representing possibilities for tables this choice is not dictated by the nature of tables. For tables in particular and non-regional perdurers in general have no real essences. However basic cases of kinds do have real essences. So no basic case of a non-regional kind is a perdurer. Such cases endure. Basic cases of non-regional kinds endure, i.e. they remain numerically one and the same while they change or "receive (apparent) contraries". They have real essences which determine the essential and accidental ways in which R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 2 8 they do or do not have properties. Haecceitism holds for them. They are neither properties predicated of things nor particular characteristics (non-basic cases) exhibited by things. I conclude then that they deserve the name of substances. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 2 9 Chapter 5 - Composites 1. The limitations of Materialism Consider what we shall call the total matter of a persisting material thing. It is to encompass all the matter which constitutes that thing over its lifetime. It can be thought of as a certain sum of cases of material properties and kinds.^ As a first approximation, the sum should include those cases of material types which are at some place which the material thing occupies during some time when the material thing occupies that place. The sense of 'occupies* here is taken to be such that the regions bounded by the interstices of a material thing are not occupied by that thing. Consequently, the air molecules which are located inside a bottle at some time are not to be counted part of its total matter. The cases of material types which are at some place which a material thing occupies at a time when that thing occupies that place include some cases which are not part of the total matter of the material thing. For among those cases are the space-time regions occupied by the material thing over its lifetime. These sum together to make up the total position of the material thing. . The total position of a material thing is to be excluded from its total matter so that its total matter is the sum of all cases located at its total position minus its total position. The concluding argument of Chapter 2 implied that at least some cases of material properties and kinds endure. Suppose that fundamental particles are 1. These properties and kinds are material in the sense that they would be recognized by any correct physical theory. In this context a physical theory is any appropriate descendant of current physics and chemistry. Certain constraints must be placed on the appropriate descendant relation in order that this characterization work. On these, see J.J.C. Smart, "The Content of Physicalism", Philosophical Quarterly, 26, 1978. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 130among such enduring cases. Then the total matter of a typical material thing will include cases which have a life of their own outside the total position of the material thing. These cases will include those fundamental particles which constitute the material thing for only part of their lifetimes. The consequence to the effect that what was once part of a material thing's total matter is no long part of it can be accepted. On the view we are interested in - the view that a material thing is identical with its totai matter - it follows that it is possible for what was once part of the material thing to no longer be part of it. If we drop the tense and speak tenselessiy of the parts of a material thing we get the odd result that part of a thing may be thousands of miles away from that thing. But this oddity is just the result of trying to speak of a time-relative relation - being part of at a time - in an atemporal way. In Chapter 1 we allowed that there are cases of extrinsic properties, as it might be, a case of being an electron bound to the nucleus of a hydrogen atom. Such a case would overlap with but not be part of an electron bound to such a nucleus. Such a case would be located within the total position | occupied by the hydrogen atom in question. It would be a case of a material 3 property. It would therefore be included in the total matter of the atom. Hence the claim that a hydrogen atom consisting throughout its lifetime of a single proton, a single neutron and a single electron is no more than its | total matter is not the claim that it is simply a proton, a neutron and an electron. Rather, it is the claim that it is an electron bound to a nucleus consisting of a proton bound to a neutron. The total matter of the atom includes cases of the relevant bonding properties summed in with the cases making up the proton, the neutron and the electron. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 3 1 The claim that a hydrogen atom is its total matter is very plausible. This is because it is very plausible to suppose that all the causal powers of the atom are accounted for by the causal powers of the material cases which make up its total matter. That is to say, it is hard to think of a distinctive causal role played by the atom which is not merely the product of the causal roles of the material cases which make it up. A similar consideration applies to atoms in general and things made up only of atoms bonded together. It is difficult to see how their causal powers are anything more than the product of the causal powers of the cases of material properties which make up their total matter. So there is a strong prima facie consideration in favor of the position that any material thing is identical with its total matter. As against this, there appears to be a purely general argument to the effect that this is impossible. For suppose that *b_' is a rigid designator for the total matter of a persisting material thing, which persisting thing is rigidly designated by 'a' . Then the hypothesis that a. = b. seems at odds with the intuition that (1) a would have continued to exist even if its matter had been gradually altered so that the matter constituting it in the latter half of its lifetime was wholly different from that which actually constituted it in the latter half of its actual lifetime, b could not have undergone such an alteration. For example, think of a ship that is actually burnt up with all its original planks intact. It could have had very different total matter. For it could have had all its original planks gradually replaced before being burnt up. Thus the ship is not identical with its actual total matter. with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 3 2 - ►|j There is a sort of paradox here. For the general consequences of this apparently sound argument are unpalatable. Suppose that by manipulating base metals an alchemist brings into being a gold statue of a cat and then obliterates it. The total matter of the statue is made of gold and is cat-shaped and the statue is made of the same gold and is cat-shaped. If the statue and its total matter are distinct then an odd consequence follows. Consider some time t at which the statue exists. Then at time t just where '-'311 M the statue is there is a distinct thing made of the same matter and having the 13 shape of a cat. In fact it seems indistinguishable in all respects from the statue of the cat. But anything indistinguishable in all respects from the statue of a cat is a statue of a cat. So at the time t there are at least two cat statues in the same place. But consider the second statue of a cat, the one introduced as the total matter of the first statue. Surely it cannot be identical with its total matter. But its total matter consists of gold at t and is cat-shaped at t. Is there then a third cat statue coincident with the other two at t and so on ad infinitum? We get this absurdity because the original statue has no causal powers over and above those had by its total matter. The statue is not a principle of change and remaining unchanged which organizes the exchange of matter between its matter and its environment. The statue is nothing over and above its total matter. Distinguishing it from its43 "4 total matter on the basis of modal intuitions like (1) is therefore very 2implausible. The obvious way out of this paradox is to regard those material things which are plausibly identified with their total matter as having only nominal essences. Then an utterance of a token of (1) is true in the context of 2. Contra S. Kripke in "Identity and Necessity" in Stephen P. Schwartz (ed.), Naming, Necessity and Natural Kinds (Cornell, 1977), p. 101, fn. 19. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 3 3 utterance not in virtue of the distinct natures of the material thing and its total matter but in virtue of the distinct ways in which the author of the utterance refers to the material thing and to its total matter. These ways of referring serve to emphasize one rather than another counterpart relation or scheme of cross-world tracing. Such an utterance of (1) is true in virtue of the fact that although these schemes converge on one thing in the actual world - the material thing which is none other than its total matter - they diverge in other worlds. Thus the identity of a material thing with its total matter is admitted. What is denied is that modal predications such as '... could not have undergone such an alteration' leave open a purely referential position for a rigid designator. Instead, distinct though co-referential designators can bring with them different criteria for cross-world identifications. These associations can be cancelled or made explicit by the 'qua F' construction. Qua statue, the golden cat could have figured in a possible world with different total matter; qua total matter, it could not have. Notice that this solution can apply more widely than to perduring things. Suppose, as was mooted at the end of Chapter 2, that all fundamental material property instances or cases endured. Then there would be real obstacles to supposing that anything structured out of such property instances or cases perdured. To take one of the worst problems: suppose a table is originally made up of a host of cases of fundamental material properties or kinds and it is perfectly preserved so that no interchange of matter or energy takes place between it and its environment. It is obliterated soon after it comes into being. Then the table is not a perduring thing. It cannot be decomposed into temporal parts because none of its parts have temporal parts. Let us call any sum which contains at least one enduring thing and things extrinsic to that enduring thing a composite. Now I think it is very plausible to suppose that R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 3 4 the table is the composite which is the sum of the enduring cases in question. Granted, the table could have had many parts not actually included in the composite. However, for reasons exactly like those given in the example of the golden statue it seems more plausible to employ the Nominal Essentialist's treatment of this remark in order to save the identity claim. So far we have recognized that a thing has a nominal essence if it is a complex (Chapter 4), if it is a perduring non-complex (Chapter 4), or if it is a composite without a distinguished essential part. However a central claim of Chapter 4 was that basic cases of kinds have real essences. So for them, modal predications like those involved in (1) are concerned with ways in which they have or lack properties. And this in its turn is a matter of whether their real essences imply such properties. Hence we are owed an account of the relation between a case of a kind and its total matter which either explains why the analog of (1) for it and its matter is false or explains how the case can plausibly be taken to be distinct from its matter. For the Nominal Essentialist's way out is not available for cases of kinds. Fundamental particles, even if they have no spatio-temporal parts, would still have cases of fundamental properties as parts. These parts summed together could be thought of as their total matter. If anything is a good candidate to be identical with its total matter it is a fundamental particle. So if a fundamental particle is to be properly regarded as a basic case of a kind its total matter must be essential to it and not able to change across possible situations. However it is hard to see how Mterialism - the doctrine that a thing is identical with its total matter - could be maintained for basic cases whose total matter is not essential to them. If there are such cases then there must be some way of explaining how it is that they are distinct from their R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. total matter. I now turn to my own tentative suggestion as to how this could be so. il R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 3 6 2. Hylomorphism VIhcn we argued that the golden statue of a cat was not different from its total matter we assumed that the statue was not "a principle of change and remaining unchanged", i.e. something different from its matter which explained just why its matter was organized in the way it happened to be and which governed the rate and means of the matter exchange between its matter and its environment. This assumption was plausible because it seemed clear that the causal explanation of why the matter of the statue hung together in the way it did over time could be given completely in terms of properties of material bonding, cases of such properties being included in the statue's total matter. For the statue and for inanimate material things in general, no principle of organization distinct from the thing's total matter needs to be invoked to explain the unity shown by that matter over time. A quite modest anti-reductionist position about living things and, in particular, organisms could be developed in contrast to this account of inanimate things. The idea that there is a special kind of matter present in living things, a kind whose features cannot be explained solely in terms of the kinds of matter postulated in the physical sciences is known to be false. Organic compounds are made up of the same sort of matter as is found in inorganic compounds. However, it still may be that any adequate explanatory biological theory will have to recognize kind-specific principles of material organization in order to explain the kind-relative diachronic unity of organisms. The anti-reductionist element here is the supposition that unlike the diachronic unity of statues, tables and chairs, the unity that an organism shows over time is not explicable solely in terms of the mass effect of the bonding forces recognized by physics and chemistry. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 3 7 One way of filling this anti-reductionist idea out is in the direction of Hylomorphism. On this view an organism is a composite of its total matter and a principle of organization which is a unified disposition to various life-functions. The interdependent intrinsics which make up such a disposition are the various capacities of the organism to function in ways characteristic of its kind, e.g., ingestion, assimilation, excretion, metabolic self-maintenance, locomotion, reproduction, sensory assimilation, mentation, etc.. The survival and operation of such a unified disposition requires the survival of a highly structured material basis - the body of the organism. However, the operations of the disposition maintain the matter of the organism in its characteristic and highly articulated state. In this state, the matter of the organism has a structure which enables it to subserve the active operations of the organism, operations which on the Hylcmcrphic View are manifestations of the organism's unified disposition to life functions. Thus the disposition maintains matter in a structure sufficiently complex to sustain itself and its operations. This is the sense in which a disposition to life functions is self-maintaining. The matter of an organism shows a striking diachronic unity as a result of the metabolic operations of the organism's self-maintaining disposition. Thus the persistence through time of an organism is to be explained by the persistence of its self-maintaining disposition to life functions. Of course, there will be certain sorts of mutilation of the body of the organism which the organism cannot survive. For certain sorts of mutilation will, destroy enough of the material basis of the function of metabolic self-maintenance to prevent its continued operation. If this happens, the organism is then dying, i.e. ceasing to be matter organized by a disposition to life functions. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. n M ■I I 1 3 8 The function of metabolic self-maintenance is atypical among life-functions in this respect. An organism cannot survive the sort of mutilation that prevents the operation of this function. For its operation is the means by which the organism maintains itself as a living thing over time. Contrast seeing, for example. This is the operation of the capacity to see and an organism with that capacity can survive the mutilation of its organs of sight. Even so mutilated, there is a sense in which the organism retains the capacity for sight, albeit in the absence of its active operation. For that operation could be restored if new organs of sight were transplanted from an organism of the same kind or if prosthetic replacements for these organs were hooked up to the organism in the right way. Thus, when an organism survives such mutilations, what remains numerically one and the same is not the organism's matter, nor the operations of its life functions, but rather its unified disposition to those life functions. Nonetheless that unified disposition will only continue to survive if the organism is not mutilated to the point where there is no longer sufficiently complex matter to subserve the operation of the function of metabolic self-maintenance. On the Hylomorphic View to be considered here, cases of biological kinds are self-maintaining dispositions to those iife-functions characteristic of their kind. Organisms are composites of such cases and the matter organized by them. On this conception it is straightforwardly true that the nature of any organism is such that it might have had different total matter over its lifetime. For although it is essential to a disposition to life functions that | it organize some matter or other it is not essential to any such disposition that it organizes the matter which it actually organizes. Which matter the dispositions actually organizes is a highly contingent affair depending on the environment with which it exchanges matter. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. is In showing how to think of an organism as something more than its total ■3 matter we have indicated what its real essence might be like. An organism is a composite of its total matter and the disposition to life functions which organizes that total matter. The disposition is a basic case of a kind. In identifying such a case across time and from possible situation to possible situation we thereby identify the organism with that case as a part. Such a case of a kind has a real essence which implies and excludes certain properties. And that real essence is also the real essence of the hylomorphic composite which has the case as a part. Just as the question of whether there are cases of kinds of material organization of the sort the Rylonorphist recognizes is an empirical one, the question of which of their properties are essential is an empirical one. But among the various capacities intrinsic to such a case, the capacity for metabolic self-maintenance stands out as a candidate to be an essential capacity. Nothing could be Fido in some possible situation unless it incorporated Fido's capacity to metabolic 1 self-maintenance. Since cases of kinds of material organization have real essences then, by the argument of Section 3 of Chapter 4, they endure. In general they deserve the name of substances. Thus a hylomorphic composite contains a substance as an enduring part. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 4 0 3» Organism and Artifact I suggest that thinking of organisms as hylomorphic composites does very well in bringing our intuitions about questions of identity over time for organisms into reflective equilibrium. Such an equilibrium is difficult to achieve because our intuitions in this area are subject to a number of distorting influences. As a result, those intuitions can be made to appear contradictory. One distorting influence in this area is the flurry of fantastic cases which invite us to gloss over the distinction between material parts taken up into the life of an organism and material parts making up an artifact. Though artifacts, e.g. ships, tables, chairs, guns, etc., have a characteristic shape they lack a self-maintaining principle of organization and development which remains the same while their parts come and go. Being identical with their total matter they lack a real essence which would constrain the changes they are able to undergo, i.e., which would set a limit to such changes independently of our conventions of identification and re-identification. Thus, for an artifact, the distinction between having its parts replenished and its being replaced by another thing of the same sort is vaguely bounded, open to conventional determination and so to various precisifications for various purposes. For example, whether the original gun of Little Caesar is counted the same gun as the gun assembled much later from parts scattered around his hideaway or is rather the same as the gun in his pocket which has been produced by continuous replacement of those parts may depend on such extrinsic matters as the laws of evidence in the state in which Little Caesar is tried. We can, after all, imagine the gun which was later assembled from the scattered parts being presented as exhibit A - according R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. to the ballistics reports, the very gun which Little Caesar used to plug his The example of Little Caesar's gun is on all fours with the example of the ship of Theseus. The ship leaves port, it sails across the sea, the planks which make it up are gradually replaced so that it arrives at its destination made up of planks none of which made it up when it left port. Of course this very way of describing the situation embodies the very natural intuition that the ship which left port arrives at its destination. But this intuition can be thrown into some doubt by filling out the example by supposing that as the original planks were discarded they were collected, eventually to be put back together into a ship exactly like the ship of Theseus when it left port. Surely the ship consisting of the original planks has some claim to be the original ship. Some claim yes, but the dominant intuition here is that the ship spatio-temporally continuous with the ship of Theseus is the ship of Theseus despite the fact that it has none of the original planks. After all, loss and replacement of planks is the usual thing in the normal life of such, a ship. Notice that "the normal life of such a ship" is properly glossed as "the normal purposes to which we put such ships". The normal life of such a ship is not dictated by the nature of such ships. For suppose that the ship of H Theseus had become a prized exhibit. A curator in the museum in which it is stored covets the ship. He forms a plan to steal it. Every evening, when he is the last to leave, he replaces one plank in the ship with a replica he has made at home. In this way he gradually acquires all the original planks which he then puts together into a ship of the same form as Theseus's ship. Surely he could be prosecuted for stealing the ship of Theseus. This implies that the ship of Theseus is the one the curator built up in his back yard. Yet R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 4 2 this intuition is at odds with the original intuition that the ship spatio-temporally continuous with the ship of Theseus is the ship of Theseus. As in the case of Little Caesar's gun, practical interests, and not just the nature of the artifact, determine which judgement of cross-time identity is reasonable. Corresponding to the example of the ship of Theseus one could develop the example of the body of Theseus. While Theseus is alive his cells are gradually replaced by bionic units which show just the same input-output functions as the cells they replace. Theseus gradually becomes a bionic man. However his original cells are kept alive and finally reassembled into a living body with exactly the same material constitution as the body of Theseus before he went bionic replacement. Are we still so sure that Theseus survives as the bionic man? The Hylomorphist will have two remarks to make about such an example. First he would offer a cautionary word about the fantastic nature of the example. Since on the Hylomorphic View the nature and essence of an organism is a matter of a posteriori discovery, imagination will be a poor guide to what is possible for an organism. One must therefore maintain a sober sense of possibility in the face of such imagined examples. It is just not known whether it is possible to build up an organism by assembling cells. Organisms grow; they are not assembled. Secondly, suppose that one waived this worry and had, as I have, the intuition that Theseus survives as the bionic man. Then it would be a grave mistake to suppose that just because we can imagine parallel examples for artifacts and organisms parallel claims about identity over time must be made. In the example of the curator trying to steal the ship of Theseus, extrinsic matters such as the use to which the ship was being put led us to conclude 1 R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. fca 1 4 3 that the ship constructed from the original planks was the original ship. Here, practical interests motivated one rather than another extension of our conventions for describing facts of material continuity and dependence in terms such as 'this is the same ship as the ship of Theseus'. However it is very bizarre to say parallel things about the example of the body of Theseus. Suppose the bionic man is sent off in a space-ship to Mars and the assembled organism is on Earth. Could it really be a matter of convention as to which one is Theseus? Suppose someone formed the plan to smuggle Theseus out of the country cell by cell. I think our reaction to this would be that Theseus just can't be smuggled out in this way. And this is not a matter of which conventions of re-identification suit the use to which we are putting Theseus. Rather it is a matter of the nature of Theseus. He is not the kind of thing which can be transported in this way. The Hylomorphic View captures this intuition. The real essence of Theseus rules out this surviving decomposition into his individual cells. For once the decomposition has got to a certain point there will no longer be enough articulated matter to subserve the operation of Theseus's disposition to metabolic self-maintenence. The self-maintaining disposition which makes Theseus a living thing will have ceased to exist. Assembling the cells into the form of a man could at most produce an organism with a self-maintaining disposition of the same kind as Theseus's. But this would be no more Theseus than a clone of him would be. The Hylomorphist will similarly dismiss the alleged possibility of an organism's surviving the so-called "teleportation" process described in Chapter 3. If one cannot survive decomposition into one's constituitive cells a fortiori one cannot survive.decomposition into one's constitutive atoms or sub-atomic particles. Beaming my particles to a destination where a person R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 3 ■ 3 1 4 4 just like me is made from them is not a way of transporting me. My disposition to the life functions characteristic of my kind is destroyed and duplicated by such a process. So at best, "teleportation" is a way of replacing me by a duplicate. The Hylomcrphic View allows that there is something in the nature of organisms which does encourage a parallel with artifacts in the matter of identity over time. Like artifacts, organisms have material parts. The material continuities associated with them over time can hold to varying degrees. On the Hylomorphic View the material continuities shown by an organism over time are evidence for the survival of a disposition which is a large part of the causal explanation of those continuities. Some of the material effects of an organism's disposition to life-functions may continue to be seen after the organism is dead and so after the disposition has ceased to be, e.g. the growing of nails and hair after death. So far as the body of an organism goes, there may be no radical discontinuity associated with the ceasing to be of its disposition to life functions. The body's operations may just gradually diminish until there are none at all which are characteristic of a living thing. Thus there will be a real evidential obstacle in the way of specifying the exact time at which an organism dies. However, on the Hylomorphic View, it is just wrong to dramatize our ignorance by saying3 for example, that there is no fact of the matter as to whether a patient who has undergone significant cell by cell mutilation is dead or not. There may be no fact of the matter as to just when an artifact ceases to exist as a result of gradual mutilation. For there is noting more to the persistence of artifacts than the holding of material continuities and dependencies. Hot so with organisms. There is always the further fact as to whether the organism's disposition to life functions exists or not. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. Hr i.a 1:5 -I -145The contrasts between organisms and artifacts in the matter of identity over time also hold between organisms and non-artifactual inanimate things: stones, waves, waterfalls, planets, mountains, etc. For these things also, matters of identity over time can seem to turn on more than their nature. This is just what we would expect given the argument of Section 1. For these things are identical with their total matter and so have no real essence which limits their possibilities independently of our habits of re-identification. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 4 6 - £ P 4. Sanity Restored As well as explaining the important difference between organisms and non-living things in the matter of identity over time the Hylomorphic View promises to sober up discussions of personal identity. I shall close by noting three of its salutary implications: first, that the imagined examples of people surviving fission are very dubious; second, that my experiences are necessarily, uniquely and wholly mine; thirdly, that there is no sound criticism of cur parochial biases forthcoming from the correct theory of personal identity. Unlike amoebas we are not naturally fitted for fission. Even if we were, it would not follow either that the pre-fission person survives as both the post-fission people (the Close Enough Continuer View) or that if one of the post-fission people had not developed then the pre-fission person would have been identical with the remaining post-fission product (the Closest Continuer View). Neither of these views is plausible for amoebas or for anything which I| splits in the way they do. In amoebic fission the material basis of the life 1 functions of the parent amoeba swells, duplicates and divides. As a result I two -new daughter amoebas are produced. If one side of the fission process I fails we do not say that the parent amoeba is the sole daughter amoeba. 1 -I Rather we say that amoebas reproduce by fission and that in such a situation 33 only one amoeba has been generated from the parent amoeba. | What about artificial fission of people as in the philosophers' examples, 3 | e.g. the transplanting of a patient's hemispheres into living yet brainless I 1 bodies? On the Hylomorphic View not much sense is to be made of the claims of ■3* 3 the Closest Continuer theorist or of the Close Enough Continuer theorist in 3s such a case. If there could be living though brainless bodies then on the■*iI Hylomorphic View each such a body would be an organism with its own R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. ■a -147disposition to life functions. Such bodies would not have sufficiently articulated matter to subserve the operation of the function of mentation but they would retain the disposition to that function in the way in which a man with his visual system ablated retains the disposition to the function of seeing even though he no longer sees. Transplanting a brain or a half-brain into a living but brainless body may not be physically possible. But if such transplanting could succeed then on the Hylomorphic View this implies that the transplanted brain could be integrated into the functioning of the rest of the organism. It becomes the material means by which that organism thinks, just as a transplanted heart becomes the means by which the organism into which it is transplanted pumps blood. The transplanted half-brain or brain is no more the functioning of the organism from which it was transplanted than is the functioning of a transplanted heart the functioning of the organism from which that heart was transplanted. On the Hylomorphic View there is an important difference between any organ, the brain included, and any organism, no matter how mutilated. The latter has and the former lacks a unified disposition which includes the capacity for metabolic self-maintenance. We must not think of the brain as if it were a little organism with a life of its own, needing a body only as a means of executing its will and acquiring information. For this is to treat the brain as a pilot in a ship - a kind of Materialist Cartesianism which makes the rest of the body a responsive puppet. A saner view is encouraged by Hylomorphism - the functioning of my brain is m£ brain-functioning only so long as that functioning is the manifestation of my disposition to life-functions. If my brain were successfully transplanted into your living yet de-brained body then ipso facto it would be taken up into the life of your body. Its functioning would be your functioning. i R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 4 8 Of course, it is far from clear that brain transplanting is possible in general* My brain may not be able to function in any of the ways which your living body can tolerate. But if the transplanting is successful,then on the Hylomorphic View the mental operations which are subserved by the brain in your body are your mental operations no matter how much they bear the character and stamp of my earlier mental operations. So I would not survive when only my brain or half-brain survived and was transplanted into your body. I take it that -.his goes against the dominant intuition which philosophers have concerning brain-transplanting. Only part of that intuition 13 can be explained by the acceptance of Materialist Cartesianism - the view that we essentially are our brains. There is another distorting and less theoretical influence which it is important to isolate if our intuitions about personal identity are to be properly assessed. I call this distorting influence the executor effect. 1 When presented with a puzzling example like the example of brain-transplanting an intuition to the effect that I would survive the process described is an intuition that the process would not involve my death. In making such a judgement I naturally look for the signs of death, its normal concomitants, the losses it typically involves. A puzzling example is liable to distort our intuitions if it includes a process which involves death but not its usual concomitants.' Death always involves the final defeat of one's ego project - that one continue to exist - and of one's personal projects. Invariably, under normal circumstances it also involves the defeat of many if not all of the corresponding impersonal projects. There is no one to take just my place in the world after I die, to do the things I would have done in just the way I would have done them. Now it is very difficult to formulate what kind of loss R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 4 9 it is when my ego project is finally defeated. It is not in any way a loss which I will experience or undergo. Similarly it is difficult to articulate just what value comes to an end or ceases to be able to be attained when my personal projects are finally defeated by death. The personal, subjective loss associated with our death is very difficult to formulate and so difficult to fix as the object of our fear when we fear death. (This has led some to say that it is not a loss, thereby, I think, capitulating to Neutralism.) Either way, in fearing death it is easier to fix on the impersonal loss. When I die there will be nobody to care for my friends and familiars in the way I can, nobody to cherish the things I do in quite the way I do, no one to make quite the contributions I could have made in quite the way I could have made them. Here although the first person is used, the loss being anticipated is nonetheless impersonal - there will cease to be a very good executor of my impersonal projects when I cease to be. That certainly is a loss if the pursuit and success of those projects is indeed valuable. So the fear of the loss associated with one's own death takes as its dominant object not pure extinction, for this is something difficult to comprehend as a loss, but its invariable concomitant - the loss of a very good executor of one's impersonal projects. A fortiori, the death of another not intimately related to us will seem to us to be a loss just because there ceases to be that person who was a very good executor of his own impersonal projects. Here again our sense of the loss of death takes as its dominant object the usual concomitant of death. This is a familiar feature of many of our mental sets formed in the presence of regularities such as the fact that when a person dies there ceases to be a •i i R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 I I 1 5 0 very good executor of his impersonal projects. We think of one thing as the manifestation of the other, react to it as if it were the other. If this is correct, then we should expect that when we are presented with a bizarre case in which there is a very good executor of a dead person's impersonal projects we should be inclined to suppose that the loss associated with death has not taken placed so that death has not taken place. We will be inclined to suppose that the person survives as his executor. I suggest that such an "executor effect" is influencing our intuitions in the brain-transplanting example. If the person who lived on with my brain and your body happened to be very committed to your projects and not at all to ■'?4■3 mine we would have little or no inclination to say that I survive as that I.aK person. Yet the usual supposition embodied in the description of such examples is just the opposite. Because of the causal powers of the brain, it is supposed that a person who lived on with my brain and your body would be highly committed to my projects and not to yours. But then we should suspect our intuitions about such examples. Perhaps they represent an illegitimate overgeneralization from the normal run of things. Having said this it is important to point out that if I care about my impersonal projects I do have good reason to care for some future very good executor of those projects even if he is not me. For with him go the hopes of my impersonal projects. Indeed I have reasons to identify with him, i.e. to care for him in a way similar to the way I care for myself and for similar reasons. No wonder then that I should tend to think of his survival as my £survival. No wonder than that philosophers can get a long way in arguing for the importance of mental continuity in personal identity and the non-necessity of bodily continuity. For mental continuity of the right sort between me and some future person will guarantee that he is a very good executor of my R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. ■ impersonal projects. And this will be so whether or not he is the same organism as me. But this whole direction of thought which dominates the contemporary discussion of personal identity is thrown into doubt if there is such a thing as the executor effect. There is a corrective against the executor effect. The possibility that I should have more than one future very good executor of my impersonal projects serves to remind us that having a future very good executor is one thing, surviving another. Lewis, Nozick, Parfit, Perry and Shoemaker have each exercised their ingenuity to make it seem legitimate to ignore such a reminder. In doing so they have produced opposing accounts of what the facts are when a person has many future executors. The proliferation of theories in this way can itself be the sign of a mistake. As I tried to show in Chapter 3 , this suspicion is reinforced when we look at the details of these theories. Finally and briefly, how does Hylomorphism fare with respect to the objections brought against these theories in Chapter 3? On the Hylomorphic View, an organism's experience, like all of its mental activity, is a manifestation of its unified disposition to life functions. For on this view, sensory assimilation, no less than digestion, is a life function. There is a non-contingent connection between a disposition to life functions and its manifestations. Consider the fragility of a particular glass. That case of a determinate sort of fragility could not be manifested by the breaking of a second glass unless the dispositional case in question is identical with its material basis and that material basis was somehow incorporated into the second glass. But this possibility of the operations of one thing manifesting the dispositions of a different thing does not arise for dispositions to life functions. For such dispositions were introduced as distinct from their material bases. If my liver is transplanted into another R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 5 2 person then the functioning of my liver in that person is not my liver-functioning. The functioning of my liver in him is not a manifestation of my disposition to liver-functioning, but a manifestation of his disposition to liver-functioning. In general, none of the operations of another living 1■ thing could be the manifestations of my disposition to life functions. Just9I■ as there is a non-contingent connection between my digestings and my disposition to life functions there is a nou-eontingest connection between my experiences and my disposition to life functions. My experiences manifest that disposition. That is what they essentially are - manifestations of that disposition. Thus they could not be had by another organism, for if another organism were to have them then they would be manifestations of its disposition to life functions. Moreover, the idea of an experience had by no organism is an absurdity. For this would be a manifestation of a disposition to life functions which manifested no such disposition. 5 What about two organisms sharing an experience? Two Siamese twins could be connected at the wrist and so could share a common site of bodily disorder. But this would not be sharing an experience in the relevant sense. Even if the area of overlap were higher up in the nervous system, e.g. at the sensory cortex, this could still be a mere economy in each organism's use of organic matter. The organisms would have common matter subserving the operations of their respective capacities to sense. But on the Hylomorphic View there is no ^ step from this to the conclusion that the sensory operations of the organisms are the same. For those sensory operations are not mere material changes. They are manifestations of dispositions, manifestations which involve but are not identical with material changes. Thus, on the Hylomorphic View, even if it is possible that two distinct dispositions to life functions manifest themselves by means of the same matter, this is not to say that these R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. manifestations are the same. Hence even if it is possible for Siamese twins to be connected at the sensory cortex this is not to say that their sensory operations or experiences would be the same. At most, those operations would involve the same material changes. An analogy may help here. Suppose that at the 1984 Republican Convention Fred and Ned between them manage to raise high a banner which has written on it "Nixon for President. Reagan for Vice President". Fred is known as a maverick and it is recognized that he did this because he really did intend Lo support Nixon whom he believes should be exhumed from the political graveyard. However, Ned is widely known as a severe critic of the Reagan camp's use of the Carter debate notes, and as a man who thinks of this as a Watergate-style dirty trick. Only Fred fails to recognize that in raising the banner Ned intends to discredit Reagan. Here by means of the same material change, Fred and Ned manifest different attitudes and so perform different acts. Moreover even if Ned had manifested the same type of attitude as Fred in raising the banner, there would still be Fred's supporting Nixon and Ned's supporting Nixon - different tokens of the same act-type associated with the same material change. The Hylomorphist thinks of the Siamese twins who share a common brain event but who have different token experiences in a similar way. By means of the same material change they manifest different dispositions. Hence the Hylomorphic View rules against the alleged possibility of two organisms having the very same experience. A fortiori, it does not allow as a possibility a single experience partly had by one organism and partly had by another organism. How does the Hylomorphic View fare on the matter of self-concern? The Complex View supported Neutralism because as a view of persisting people it R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 5 4 made the difference between a person's surviving and his being replaced by a duplicate turn on facts not worth caring about - facts about causal connections of specific sorts. Thus a person's ego project could only be represented by the Complex View as a bizarre preference in favor of one among many possible ways of securing mental and physical continuity. None cf those ways considered in themselves seem especially distinguished. So a justification seems wanting for a very strong preference in favor of just one of these ways. To make the problem vivid suppose there are two ways in which we could get a person with a nature just like mine to appear in Sydney. I could travel there or I could be put into a "teleporter" with a "receiving" station in Sydney. Suppose that I would survive the first but not the second. Knowing this, I naturally have a very strong preference for travelling, not because I think that it offers a better chance of mental and physical continuity and I care about that but because 1 just care about my survival independently of caring about mental and physical continuity. On the Complex View this can only be caring about one sort of pattern of causation in the world rather than another sort of pattern even though those patterns would produce the same results. The patterns of causation in question are just patterns of counterfactual dependence between cases. Why should I care about the sort of counterfactual dependencies that hold when I fly ana don't hold when I get into the so-called teleporter? Thus there is a lever for the Neutralist provided by the Complex View. Self-interested concern, which we ordinarily do take for granted, turns out to be just like something we ordinarily don't take for granted - a powerful preference for a certain sort of causal pattern over a causal pattern of another sort independently of any preference for the results produced by the R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 first over the results produced by the second. This is the sort of preference for which we ordinarily want a justification and for which there seems to be no justification. No such lever is provided for the Neutralist by the Hylomorphic View. On that view my ego project comes down to my caring that this disposition to life functions - the one that I am - endures into the future. But that makes rather good sense doesn't it? That disposition is a rich and variegated thing5 the thing whose organized nature is manifested by all my activities. Surely I am justified in caring about it. Why don't I extend this same concern to a duplicate of the same nature so that I cone to think of 'teleportation' as being as good as travelling? I just don't; but I do not see this very common attitude as lacking any justification which it needs. Of course, the Neutralist who denies that there could be a value for me in my survival which is not to be found in the survival of a duplicate will find my preference for travelling odd. But he has no argument for the sort which was provided for him by the Complex View. On the Hylomorphic View caring about the difference between me and a duplicate is just caring about the primitive difference between me and a duplicate. It does not come down to caring about a difference the caring for which ordinarily requires some further justification. The Hylomorphic View is advanced as a tentative hypothesis. Its virtues are manifold. It avoids the absurdities of the Complex View in the matters of experience and self-concern. It does not make being alive or being dead a matter of convention, an extrinsic matter or a matter of degree. It encourages us to maintain a sober sense of the possible changes that living things can undergo. It provides an alternative to Materialism and to the R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. s i Complex View which does not involve the postulation of Cartesian egos, bare haecceities or bare particulars. However, a real defence of the Hylomorphic View would involve showing how basic cases of kinds of organization understood as particular dispositions to life functions are indispensable in biological explanation. In such an investigation metaphysics would be playing one of its proper roles, as the handmaiden of biology and the philosophy of biology. R eproduced with perm ission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 5 7 Bibliography II Adams, R. M.; Allaire, E.; Armstrong, D.M.; Bergmann, G.; Bricker, P.; Butler, J.: Campbell, K.K.; Carnap, R.; Chappell, V.C.; Chisholm, R.; Dretske, F.; Gibbard, A.; Goldstein, L.; "Primitive Thisness and Primitive Identity", The Journal of Philosophy, 76, 197S, pp. 5-26. "Bare Particulars", Philosophical Studies, 14, 1963, pp. 1-8 . Universals and Scientific Realism, Vols. I and II. Cambridge University Press, 1978. "Identity Through Time", in P. Van Inwagen (ed.), Time and Cause, Dordrecht, Rieaei, 1980. "Nominalism", Philosophical Quarterly, 61, 1980, pp. 440-441. Meaning and Existence, University of Wisconsin Press, 1960. Worlds and Propositions, Doctoral Dissertation, Princeton, 1983. The Analogy of Religion, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1897. "The Metaphysics of Abstract Particulars", • unpublished. Introduction to Symbolic Logic and Its Applications, New York, Basic Books, 1958. The Logical Structure of the World, University of California Press, 1969. "Particulars Re-clothed", Philosophical Studies, 15, 1964, pp. 16-21. "Identity Through Possible Worlds: Some Questions", Nous, 1, 1967, pp. 1-8. "Parts as Essential to Thexr Wholes'*, Revxew Q£ Metaphysics, 26, 1973, pp. 518-603. "Laws of Nature", Philosophy of Science, 44, 1977, pp. 248-268. "Contingent Identity", The Journal of Philosophical Logic, 4, 1975, pp. 187-222. "Scientific Scotism", Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 61, 1983, pp. 40-57. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. e. Goodman, N.; Gupta, A.; Hirsch, E.; Jackson, F.; Johnson, W.E.; Kaplan, D.; Kripke, S.A.; Leonard, H.S. and Goodman, N.; Lewis, D.; Marks, C.E.; The Structure of Appearance, Bobbs Merrill, 1966. "Seven Strictures on Similarity", Problems and Projects, Bobbs Merrill, 1972. The Logic of Common Nouns, Yale, 1980. The Concept of Identity, Oxford University Press, 1982. "Statements about Universals", Mind, 8 6, 1977, pp. 427-429. Logic, Cambridge, 1922. "How to Russell a Frege-Church", The Journal of Philosophy, 72, 1975, pp. 716-729. "Transworld Heirlines", in M.J. Loux (ed.), The Possible and The Actual, Cornell, 1979. "A Completeness Theorem in Modal Logic", The Journal of Symbolic Logic, 24, 1959, pp. 1-15. "Semantical Considerations in Modal Logic", Acta Philosophica Fennica, 16, 1963, pp. 83-94. "Identity and Necessity", in S.P. Schwartz (ed.), Naming, Necessity and Natural Kinds, Cornell, 1977. Naming and Necessity, Harvard, 1980. "The Calculus of Individuals and Its Uses", The Journal of Symbolic Logic, 5, 1940, pp. 45-55. "Counterpart Theory and Quantified Modal Logic", The Journal of Philosophy, 65, 1968, pp. 110-128. "Counterparts of Persons and their Bodies", The Journal of Philosophy, 6 8, 1971, pp. 203-211. "Causation", The Journal of Philosophy, 70, 1973, pp. 556-67. Counterfactuals, Basil Blackwell, 1973. "Survival and Identity", in A.O. Rorty (ed.), The Identities of Persons, Berkeley, 1976. Collected Papers, Vol. I, Oxford University Press, 1983. Commissurotomy, Consciousness and Unity of Mind, Bradford Books, 1981. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 1 5 9 I i Ii I 1 Martin, C.B.; Mathews, G.B. and Marc Cohen, S.; McGinn, C.; Nozick, R.; Pap, A.; roiilv $ i* • 9 Perry, J.; Plantinga, A.; Prior, A. and Fine, K.; Putnam, H.; Quine, W.V.; Reichenbach, H.; Reid, T.; Robinson, D.; "Substance Substantialized", Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 58, 1980, pp. 1-10. "The One and The Many", The Review of Metaphysics, 21, 1967-8, pp. 631-655. "On the Necessity of Origins", The Journal of Philosophy, 73, 1976, pp. 127-135. Philosophical Explanations, Harvard, Belnap, 1981. "Nominalism, Empiricism and Universals I", Philosophical Quarterly, 3, 1359, pp. 330-340, "Personal Identity", Philosophical Review, 80, 1971, pp. 3-27. "Later Selves and Moral Principles", in A. Montefiori, ed., Philosophy and Personal Relations, Oxford University Press, 1973. "Can the Self Divide?", The Journal of Philosophy, 69, 1972, pp. 463-488. "The Importance of Being Identical", in A.O. Rorty (ed.), The Identities of Persons, Berkeley, 1976. "Transworld Identity or World-Bound Individuals", in M.J. Loux (ed.), The Possible and The Actual, Cornell, 1979. Worlds, Times and Selves, University of Massachusetts, Amherst, 1977. "The Meaning of 'Meaning'", Philosophical Papers, Vol. II, Cambridge, 1975. Word and Object, M.I.T. Press, i960. "Identity, Ostension and Hypostasis", in From a Logical Point of View, Harper, New York, 1963. "Worlds Away", The Journal of Philosophy, 73, 1976, pp. 859-863. The Philosophy of Space and Time, Dover, 1958. Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man, (ed.) A.D. Woozley, Macmillian, 1941. "Re-identifying Matter", Philosophical Review, 81, 1982, pp. 317-341. R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission. 160Salmon, N.; Sharvy, R.; Shoemaker, S.; Stalnaker, R.; Stout, G.F.; Smart, J.J.C.; Taylor, R.; Thompson, J.J.; Tocley, M.; Van Inwagen, P.; Watson, G.; Williams, D.C.; Wolterstorff, N.; Reference and Essence, Princeton University Press, 1981. "Why a Class Can't Change Its Members", Rous, 2, 1968, pp. 303-314. "Persons and Their Pasts", American Philosophical Quarterly, 7, 1970, pp. 271-286. "Identity, Properties, Causality", in P.A. French et al (ed.), Studies in Metaphysics (Minnesota Press, 1979). "Possible Worlds", Rous, 10, 1976, pp. 225-234. The Rature of Universals and Propositions, Oxford University Press, 1921. "Are the Characteristics of Particular Things Universal or Particular" (in symposium with G.E. Moore and G. Dawes Hicks), Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society (Supplementary Volume), 1923, pp. 114-22. "The Content of Physicalism", Philosophical Quarterly, 28, 1978, pp. 339-341. "Spatial and Temporal Analogies and the Concept of Identity", The Journal of Philosophy, 52, 1955, pp. 599-612. "Parthood and Identity Across Time", The Journal of Philosophy, 80, 1983, pp. 201-219. "The Nature of Laws", Canadian Journal of Philosophy, 44, 1977, pp. 667-698. "The Doctrine of Arbitrary Undetached Parts", Pacific Journal of Philosophy, 62, 1981, pp. 123-137. "Free Agency", The Journal of Philosophy, 72, 1975, pp. 205-220. "The Elements of Being", in Principles of Empirical Realism, Charles Thomas, Springfield, 1966. On Universals, University of Chicago Press, 1970. I R eproduced with perm ission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without perm ission.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness Peter Mandik 1 Introduction: Cognition and cognitive approaches to phenomenal consciousness To my mind, the most promising approaches to understanding phenomenal consciousness are what I'll call cognitive approaches, the most notable exemplars of which are the theories of consciousness articulated by Rosenthal (2005, 2011) and Dennett (1991, 2005). The aim of the present contribution is to review the core similarities and differences of these exemplars, as well as to outline the main strengths and remaining challenges to this general sort of approach. Cognitive approaches to phenomenal consciousness give explanatory pride of place to cognitive states – states such as judgements, thoughts and beliefs – in explanations of phenomenally conscious states, prototypical instances of which include the visual experience of seeing the vivid red of a ripe tomato. Such an approach may initially seem puzzling, given a seemingly sharp contrast between cognition and experience. This seeming contrast can be illustrated in a manner due to Sellars (1997). Pre-theoretically, there seems to be an obvious distinction between, on the one hand, (1) thinking that the banana in my lunchbox is yellow without at the same time either seeing the banana as yellow or anything at that time looking yellow to me, and, on the other hand, either (2a) seeing the banana as yellow when it is in fact yellow, (2b) it looking to me that the banana is yellow when it is in fact some other colour, or (2c) it looking to me that there is a yellow banana even in the absence of either bananas or yellow things. The key allegedly sharp contrast here is that between thinking and seeing. An opponent of the cognitive approach to phenomenal consciousness holds that the sorts of explanatory resources adequate for an account of (1) cannot without supplement be used to give an adequate Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 345 24-08-2017 15:49:14 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness346 account of the sorts of states exemplified by (2a–c). One way of opposing the cognitive approach would be to hold that what distinguishes states of type (2) from states of type (1) is that type-2 states but not type-1 states essentially involve the presence of a sensation, for example, a visual sensation of yellow, and further, that sensations cannot be explained utilizing only the resources minimally adequate for explaining type (1) states. On some elaborations of this sensation account, sensations are states distinguished by the possession of a certain kind of property, so-called phenomenal properties or qualia (plural), in the present case, a yellow quale (singular). In contrast, the proponent of the cognitive approach holds that the explanation of states of type (2) being phenomenally conscious can be adequately spelled out in terms of the minimal resources needed to explain states of type (1). Distinctive of what I'm presently calling cognitive approaches to phenomenal consciousness is optimism about what I'll call a 'reductive' explanation of phenomenal consciousness in terms of cognition – a non-circular explanation of phenomenal consciousness in terms of cognition, an explanation that neither explicitly nor tacitly presupposes that cognition must be explained by reference to phenomenal consciousness. (See Byrne's (1997) similar use of 'reductive' (pp. 103–4).) In the present work, I will review two prime examples of cognitive approaches to phenomenal consciousness. The first is David Rosenthal's higher-order thought theory of consciousness (Rosenthal 2005, 2011). The second is Daniel Dennett's fame in the brain theory of consciousness (2005), previously known as his multiple-drafts theory (Dennett 1991). One of the issues I will spend some time on is that of whether these approaches to phenomenal consciousness are best viewed as explaining it or instead explaining it away or maybe even bearing some altogether different relation to it (e.g. deliberately ignoring it). The question here is what the exemplars of cognitive approaches are best seen as offering explanations of, and to what degree they thereby are in the ballpark of satisfying requests of those calling for an explanation of so-called phenomenal consciousness. 2 David Rosenthal's higher-order thought theory of consciousness At the heart of Rosenthal's higher-order thought theory is the idea of a higherorder thought, a thought that one has about one of one's own mental states. (In contrast, a first-order thought is a thought not about one's own mental Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 346 24-08-2017 15:49:14 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 347 states.) The gist of Rosenthal's theory is the view that what it means for one of your mental states to be conscious is that you have a higher-order thought about that state. Often, in presenting the theory, Rosenthal makes note of several distinct uses of the word 'conscious', and notes that only one of them describes the explanatory target of Rosenthal's theory. This is the use of the word 'conscious' where we apply it as an adjective describing mental states as being conscious (as opposed to unconscious) mental states. This way of using the word conscious picks out what Rosenthal calls state consciousness. The aim of Rosenthal's theory is to explain what state consciousness consists in. Another adjectival use of the word conscious applies to entire people or animals as when we say that a recently awaken child is conscious or a boxer who is knocked out is unconscious. This latter use of the word conscious picks out what Rosenthal calls creature consciousness and it is less central to Rosenthal's theory than state consciousness. A conscious creature is a creature who is awake and responsive to stimuli. However, the conscious creature can have multiple mental states at a single time which differ in that some of the states are conscious states while others are unconscious states. What this difference consists in is the central thing that Rosenthal is seeking to supply an explanation of. A third use of the word conscious picks out what Rosenthal calls transitive consciousness. Examples of transitive consciousness include those cases in which we would describe someone as being conscious of something. Transitive consciousness plays a crucial role in Rosenthal's explanation of state consciousness. Rosenthal endorses a link between transitive consciousness and state consciousness that he calls the transitivity principle. According to the transitivity principle, a person's mental state is conscious in virtue of that person being conscious of that state. The transitivity principle is supposed to capture a pre-theoretic view that people hold about state consciousness. One way in which Rosenthal expresses the transitivity principal is by stating that we would not regard a state as conscious if the person having the state was in no way conscious of being in that state. Transitive consciousness comes in at least two varieties, only one of which is central to Rosenthal's theory. Generally speaking, when it comes to being conscious of things, there are several ways in which a person can be transitively conscious. One way is perceptual: I am conscious of my coffee mug right now in virtue of seeing my coffee mug. However, argues Rosenthal, another way in which we could be conscious of things is by thinking about them. In thinking about my cat even though I may not be currently perceiving the cat, I am nonetheless, in virtue of having that thought, thereby conscious of the cat. Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 347 24-08-2017 15:49:14 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness348 Since there are perceptual exemplars of transitive consciousness, the theoretical possibility opens of consciousness of one's mental states as being mediated by some sort of perceptual relation, an 'inner sense'. Indeed, some thinkers have endorsed a higher-order perception account of the consciousness of one's own mental states. See, for example, Lycan (1996). Rosenthal argues against higher-order perception accounts of state consciousness on the grounds that (1) perception is always mediated by the presence of what he calls a mental quality and (2) his claim that our consciousness of our own mental states is not itself mediated by any comparable mental quality. This leads Rosenthal to his view that the way in which we are transitively conscious of our mental states that renders those states conscious is in virtue of having thoughts about those states namely, an explanation of consciousness in terms of higher-order thoughts. One crucial feature to note about Rosenthal's theory of consciousness is the way in which it attempts to supply a non-circular explanation of consciousness. There may initially seem to be circularity in the theory since he is explaining a state's being conscious in a virtue of a person being conscious of that state. However, the crucial distinction between state consciousness and transitive consciousness helps to block against such circularity. It would of course be circular to explain state consciousness in terms of state consciousness and also circular to explain transitive consciousness in terms of transitive consciousness. But such circularities are not what Rosenthal offers. His non-circular explanation is an explanation of state consciousness, which is one thing, in terms of transitive consciousness, which is something else. Of course, in virtue of the state's being conscious, there must be some other state which is about the first state. However, on pain of circularity, that other state must be allowed to be a non-conscious state. One way to make the non-circularity of the higher-order thought theory most apparent can be illustrated in terms of two states. The first state is a firstorder state, for example a perception of a red apple. States of this type can occur unconsciously as in subliminal perception or they can occur consciously. When they occur consciously they do so in virtue of there being a higher-order thought about the first-order state. So, in virtue of having a higher-order thought that one is perceiving a red apple, one has a conscious first-order state, namely the conscious perception of a red apple. The higher-order thought need not itself be conscious. If it were conscious it would need to be conscious in virtue of there being some third-order state about it. But in the absence of any such third-order state, the second-order state is unconscious. The first-order state is conscious in Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 348 24-08-2017 15:49:14 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 349 virtue of being targeted by the non-conscious second-order state. We have here a sketch of a reductive explanation of state consciousness since state consciousness is being explained in terms of things none of which are individually themselves conscious states. Before closing the section there are two points that I want to make. The first concerns Rosenthal's explicitly stated explanatory target and its relation to so-called phenomenal consciousness. The second concerns the puzzling case of empty higher-order thoughts – higher-order thoughts that are about first-order states that themselves do not exist. Rosenthal's treatment of empty higher-order thoughts serves to illustrate the load that cognitive states are meant to bear in his explanatory project. 2.1 Phenomenal consciousness and Rosenthal's explanatory target As Rosenthal makes quite clear, his central explanatory target is state consciousness. One might wonder, then, what pertinence Rosenthal's project might have for so-called phenomenal consciousness. Many authors writing on consciousness make phenomenal consciousness their central concern. For example, Chalmers' famous work promoting the hardness of the 'hard problem' of consciousness is explicitly cast as being about the difficulty in explaining phenomenal consciousness (1996). When Velmans and Schneider assembled their authors for their Blackwell Companion to consciousness (2006), they asked authors to be sure they addressed phenomenal consciousness (see my own contribution to that volume (Mandik 2006)). In explicating what they mean by 'phenomenal consciousness' many, and perhaps most, authors working in contemporary philosophy of mind connect that phrase to a certain use of the phrase of 'what it is like', especially as that phrased is utilized in Nagel's seminal 'What is it like to be a bat?' (1974). In Nagel's paper, he highlights a problem concerning knowing what it is like to be a bat. Not being bats ourselves, we have no introspective access to the mental lives of bats. From a third-person point of view, we note that their sensory systems are very different from those of humans, and we infer that it is very likely that what it is like to be a bat is likely to be very different from being a human. But how, if at all, can the objective third-person methods common in the physical sciences allow us to know what it is like to be a bat? A similar sort of problem concerning knowledge is highlighted in Jackson's (1982) famous thought experiment concerning Mary, a hypothetical colour-blind neuroscientist who knows all of the physical facts about what happens in human brains when humans see red, Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 349 24-08-2017 15:49:14 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness350 but, since she has not herself seen red, it seems intuitive to many that Mary would not know what it is like to see red. Many authors in the philosophy of mind connect the 'what it is like' phraseology central to explicating 'phenomenal consciousness' to the philosophical technical term qualia. (See, for example, Frankish (ms and 2012). In brief, qualia are phenomenal properties, properties of mental states in virtue of which 'there is something it's like' to be in them. (For an elaboration on worries concerning the technical terms 'qualia' and 'phenomenal consciousness' see Mandik (forthcoming).) Nagel connects the idea of consciousness to the 'what it is like' phraseology by explicitly characterizing conscious states as states it is like something to be in. As Nagel puts it: 'An organism has conscious mental states if and only if there is something that it is like to be that organism' (Nagel 1974, p. 436). Rosenthal explicitly addresses the connection between Nagelian what-it-islike talk and his own project of explaining state consciousness. He writes (1997, p. 733) 'What it is like for one to have a pain, in the relevant sense of that idiom, is simply what it is like for one to be conscious of having that pain.' He also writes (2011: 433–34): As many, myself included, use that phrase, there being something it's like for one to be in a state is simply its seeming subjectively that one is in that state. ... And ... a HOT is sufficient for there to1 be something it's like for one to be in the state the HOT describes, even if that state doesn't occur. We might summarize Rosenthal's views here in the following manner: The 'what it is like' phraseology as most pertinent to discussions of consciousness picks out the way in which one's own mental life seems to one, that is, the subjective appearance of one's own mental life to oneself. Further, the way in which one's own mental life appears is fully determined by certain thoughts one has. So, for instance, it's seeming to me that I am in pain just is me having a certain thought to the effect that I am in pain. Whether I really am in pain is a separate matter, but we are here concerned with appearance, not reality, and the appearances in question are determined by the having of certain thoughts, regardless of whether the thoughts are accurate or not. The connection of what-it-is-like phraseology to state consciousness, then, is that in having the thoughts determinative of the subjective appearances picked out by 'what it is like' phraseology, one thereby has, in virtue of having those thoughts, states that are conscious. The conscious states are the states the thoughts are about. The conscious states are the states it appears to oneself that one is in. Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 350 24-08-2017 15:49:14 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 351 2.2 Empty higher-order thoughts and the centrality of cognition in Rosenthal's theory One interesting feature of Rosenthal's theory and the feature that especially a highlights the central role that cognition plays in explaining consciousness is a feature that we can call attention to by contemplating false higher-order thoughts. It is a general feature of thoughts that they can sometimes be false, and Rosenthal sees no reason to exclude consciousness-conferring higher-order thoughts from such a generalization. Rosenthal thus leaves open the possibility, for example, of a higher-order thought that one is having a perception of a red apple when in fact one is either having a perception of a green apple or having no perception at all. The case of empty higher-order thoughts is somewhat puzzling, at least initially, as is Rosenthal's treatment of the case. However, some clarity can be gained by making explicit two kinds of readings of the HOT theory – a relational reading and a non-relational reading – and emphasizing which of the two Rosenthal intends, namely, the non-relational one. One way of spelling out the issues at play here is to consider a three-way comparison between three highly similar people who all have the same higherorder thought but differ only in some respects that are extrinsic to their respective HOTs. Persons A, B and C, let us suppose, all have a HOT, the content of which would be expressible by 'I am currently having a visual experience of a red apple'. Let A's HOT be true: A is in fact currently having a visual experience of a red apple. Let both B's HOT and C's HOT be false. Let B's HOT be false because B is having a visual experience of a green apple. Let C's HOT be false because C is not in fact currently having any visual experiences. Let us call the case of C the case of the empty HOT, since the first-order state that the HOT is about doesn't even exist. Especially interesting here is a comparison between C, the empty case, and A and B, the cases in which the relevant HOTs are non-empty. Now consider this question: According to HOT theory, are the empty and non-empty cases alike in that each of the people described have a currently conscious visual state or, instead, does one of them, namely the empty case, C, lack a current conscious visual state? The different readings of the HOT theory, the relational reading and the non-relational reading, supply different answers to this question. According to the relational reading, a person is in a conscious state if and only if they are in an actually existing first-order mental state and they are also in a higher-order state about that first state. The qualifier 'actually existing' is crucial in distinguishing the relational from the non-relational reading. According to Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 351 24-08-2017 15:49:14 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness352 the non-relational reading, having a higher-order thought alone suffices for being in a conscious state. There need not, then, be an actually existing firstorder state that the HOT is about. The state the HOT is about may, as when the HOT is empty, be a merely notional state. On the relational reading of HOT theory, a state's being conscious is a relational matter. One and the same first-order state can be unconscious at one time and conscious at another, and what determines this change from unconscious to conscious is nothing intrinsic to the first-order state itself, but instead the change from not being related to a suitable HOT to being so related. For commenters who have adopted the relational reading, see Bruno (2005), Gennaro (2006, 2012) and Wilberg (2010). On the assumption that the instantiation of a twoplace relation requires the existence of both of its relata (see Kriegel 2007, 2008 and Mandik 2009), the case of C, the person with an empty higher-order thought, seems to be a case in which the person lacks a conscious state. Although they have a HOT, they do not have any actually existing first-order state that the HOT is about, and so C would be in the puzzling circumstance of lacking a conscious state while seeming to themselves to have one. What's puzzling about this is that the way the mental lives of A, B and C each seem to them would seem to be the same – it seems to each of them, in virtue of having the same HOT, that each of them has a first-order state of perceiving a red apple. If phenomenal consciousness is a matter of how one's own mental life seems to one, then in reading HOT theory relationally, we see state consciousness and phenomenal consciousness coming apart. If A is phenomenally conscious, then so is C. But C lacks a conscious state. So C is phenomenally conscious without having a conscious state, since having a conscious state is here interpreted as having an actually existing first-order state that one is conscious of in virtue of having a HOT about it. (For a view that explicitly endorses separating state consciousness from phenomenal consciousness, see Brown (2015).) The non-relational reading has the advantage of not separating phenomenal consciousness from state consciousness. However, it accomplishes this by allowing that when a person is truly describable as having a conscious state, the state in question may on some occasions be merely notional. But this is of a piece with interpreting consciousness as being a matter of appearances, a matter of how one's own mental life appears to one. (Though it is worth noting, space does not permit discussion of a possible third reading, a disjunctive theory of state consciousness that combines resources from the relational and non-relational readings of HOT theory. In brief, such a disjunctive theory holds that a disjunctive condition suffices for one's being in a Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 352 24-08-2017 15:49:14 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 353 conscious state – one is in a conscious state if either there is an actually existing first-order state and a higher-order thought bearing an 'aboutness' relation to it or there is simply a higher-order thought and no actually existing first-order state that it is about. Like the non-disjunctive relational reading, the disjunctive reading runs afoul of the sorts of problems with a so-called aboutness relation I spell out at length in Mandik (2009).) 3 Daniel Dennett's Fame In the Brain Theory of Consciousness 3.1 From Rosenthal to Dennett: Dennett's Zimbo argument In Dennett's seminal exposition of his theory of consciousness, his 1991 book Consciousness Explained , he temporarily borrows Rosenthal's HOT theory to articulate his own now-famous 'zimbo' argument against zombies. In philosophy of mind, the term 'zombie' is used to denote not some undead flesh-eater from horror cinema, but instead a being that is similar to a normal human in some major respect (e.g. behaviourally, functionally or physically) while differing in lacking phenomenal consciousness. Sometimes thought experiments about zombies are utilized in philosophy of mind in order to argue, for instance, that consciousness cannot be physically explained, or instead cannot be implemented in a computer. To give a brief and simplified sketch of a zombie argument, consider the following line of thought that attempts to use the alleged conceivability of zombies in an argument against functionalism (roughly, the view that consciousness can be explained in terms of the sorts of functional causal activities that human brains can have in common with computers). If consciousness is the sort of thing that can be explained wholly in terms of the functional causal activities in human brains that could be likewise implemented in a robot (activities at a coarse grain that could equally be implemented in a network of neurons and system of microchips) then it ought to be impossible for a creature have exactly that putative set of physical goings-on while lacking phenomenal consciousness. And, let us suppose (a bit contentiously, to be sure), that if something is impossible, then it is inconceivable. However, it seems manifestly conceivable that a robot who acts and talks just like me, and even has a coarse-grained inner causal structure similar to my brain, might nonetheless differ from me in that of the two of us, only I have conscious states. Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 353 24-08-2017 15:49:14 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness354 But given the above suppositions, it would follow then that consciousness cannot be explained wholly in terms of such functional causal activities that might co-occur in both human brains and the computerized control systems of robots. (For a longer discussion of the sorts of issues at play in the present paragraph, see Mandik 2017.) One of the key pieces in the above line of thought is the supposition that we can coherently conceive of zombies that are behaviourally and functionally identical to normal humans while lacking consciousness. Dennett attacks this supposition by pointing out that it goes hand-in-hand with supposing zimbos to be conceivable. What is a zimbo? A zimbo is a species of zombie invented by Dennett. Recall that a zombie is a creature who is similar to normal humans in some relevant respect, for instance, both a human and his zombie counterpart are imagined to have exactly analogous behaviours, however, zombies are hypothesized to be totally devoid of consciousness. A Dennettian zimbo is a zombie who's key similarity to its human counterpart involves cognition: they have all and only the same cognitive states – thoughts, beliefs, etc. – while differing in that only the normal human has conscious states. Suppose that the human in question is having a conscious visual state of seeing red while also having a conscious feeling of pain. Suppose they have just stubbed their toe on the leg of a red sofa. Suppose further that the human is thinking about these conscious states. The human is thinking a thought expressible as 'I am seeing something red and also experiencing an intense pain.' By definition, the human's zimbo counterpart is thinking an exactly analogous thought about itself. It is thinking a thought expressible as 'I am seeing something red and also experiencing an intense pain.' Assuming Rosenthalian HOT theory, especially the non-relational reading of it, it follows from the zimbo having that thought that it thereby is in a conscious state. But this is a manifest contradiction of the supposition that the zimbo is a zombie, a creature lacking conscious states. To be sure, the contradiction here is not inherent in the very idea of a zimbo, but instead arises in supposing both that there can be zimbos and that the Rosenthalian HOT theory is the correct analysis of what it means for a creature to be in a conscious state. Either or both must be rejected. Dennett opts to reject both. Dennett uses HOT theory to point out what's absurd about zombies and zimbos, and after rejecting zombies and zimbos, goes on to argue against HOT theory, thus kicking away the ladder he climbed up on. Dennett's reluctance about the HOT theory seems to have multiple sources. One is a worry that the theory posits more states than there can be evidence for Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 354 24-08-2017 15:49:14 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 355 (1991, p. 319). Another is that the theory seems to invoke a central 'Cartesian theater' (1991, p. 320; 2015 pp. 218–19). More about this second point below. Regarding the first point, the HOT theory allows that there can be a real difference, for instance, between the first-order thought of thinking that it is raining and the second-order thought of thinking that one is thinking that it is raining (and so on for third-order, fourth-order, etc. thoughts). Dennett sees no evidence for one's thinking that one is thinking that it is raining that is distinct from the evidence that one is thinking that it is raining. There are, to be sure, different verbal expressions – there are, for instance, more words spoken in saying 'I think that I think it's raining' than in saying 'I think it's raining'. But these verbal differences, according to Dennett, are not manifestations of pre-existing differences in cognitive state. (For more comparing Rosenthal and Dennett, see Mandik 2015.) 3.2 Dennett's own preferred theory Just as Rosenthal's theory of consciousness can be seen as primarily an explanation of what a conscious state is, so can we view Dennett's theory as primarily an account of state consciousness. Dubbed by Dennett (1991) the multiple drafts theory of consciousness, it is the theory that a conscious state is spread out in both space and time in the brain across multiple instances of what Dennett calls 'content fixations', each of which – the 'multiple drafts' of the theory's name – compete for domination in the cognitive system. This domination is what Dennett calls 'fame in the brain'. Dennett sometimes (see Dennett 2005) refers to his theory of consciousness as the fame in the brain theory of consciousness. A crucial part of Dennett's theory of consciousness is the following point: Dennett denies the existence of what he calls 'the Cartesian theater' (the central posit common to both the substance dualism of Descartes and a view that Dennett dubs Cartesian materialism). Dennett denies both (1) that there's a single place in the brain where things all come together to give rise to consciousness and (2) that there is a specific time at which the onset of consciousness occurs. What is the 'Cartesian theater' that Dennett is so keen to deny the existence of? The so-called Cartesian theater is where the various previously unconscious brain events march onto the stage of consciousness before the audience of a homunculus – Latin for 'little man' – who watches the passing show. Dennett regards such a positing of a homunculus as non-explanatory: How is the homunculus conscious of the show in the Cartesian theater? Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 355 24-08-2017 15:49:14 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness356 Dennett's criticism here of the Cartesian theater can be seen as an accusation that his opponents are committing what philosophers call a homuncular fallacy. Consider, for example, attempting to explain perception by positing the creation of mental images that are apprehended with the 'mind's eye'. The problem here is that the alleged explanation threatens an infinite regress. If a person's ability to perceive something is explained by some inner homunculus that itself perceives something, the question arises of how that inner entity is able to perceive anything. Is some additional homunculus, a homunculus within a homunculus, to be posited? Obviously not, for this just infinitely forestalls ever explaining what perceiving is. Many of the considerations that Dennett provides in support of his multipledrafts theory of consciousness hinge on the application of a distinction between representational contents and representational vehicles to conscious representations of time. Such representations may themselves (the vehicles) occur at times other than the times that they are representations of (the contents). The importance of the content/vehicle distinction for time representation can be drawn out in contemplation of an argument Dennett gives concerning the illusory motion and illusory colour change in an effect known as the color-phi phenomenon. In the color-phi phenomenon, the subject is presented with a brief flash of a green circle, followed by a brief flash of a red circle in a different location. Subjects report the appearance of motion. They report seeing a green circle that moves and becomes red. Further, the circle appears to change from green to red at the half-way point of its trajectory. So, here's a question: How is it that subjects are aware of the green circle turning red before arriving at the spot where the red circle is flashed? The subjects cannot have known ahead of time that a red circle was going to flash, so how is it that they are able to have a conscious experience of something turning to red prior to the red circle's flashing? In seeking an answer to this question, we may feel pulled toward two candidate explanations, explanations that Dennett has dubbed 'Orwellian' and 'Stalinesque'. Dennett argues against such explanations, and his arguments against them help to further illustrate his cognitive approach to phenomenal consciousness. One candidate explanation (the Stalinesque explanation, named after Stalinesque show trials) is that the subject unconsciously perceives the red circle's flash and the subject's brain uses that information to generate an illusory conscious experience of a green circle changing to red. The other candidate explanation (the Orwellian explanation, named after the revisionist history promulgated by the totalitarian regime in Orwell's 1984 ) is that the subject Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 356 24-08-2017 15:49:14 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 357 consciously perceived only the non-moving green and red circle flashes and has a false memory of there having been a moving and color-shifting circle. Dennett argues that there is absolutely no basis for preferring one of these candidate explanations over the other. This is plausible, and as I argue in (Mandik 2015, p. 190): To attempt to persuade yourself of Dennett's conclusion, first imagine being a subject in a color phi experiment. What you introspect is that there has been a visual presentation of a moving, color-changing circle. Your introspective judgment is that you have experienced such an episode. But to resolve the Stalinesque v. Orwellian debate on introspective grounds, your introspective judgment would need to wear on its sleeve whether its immediate causal antecedent was a false memory (Orwellian) or a false experience (Stalinesque). But clearly, no such marker is borne by the introspective judgment. So much for the first-person evidence! So now, imagine being a scientist studying a subject in a color-phi experiment. Imagine availing yourself of all of the possible third-personal evidence. Suppose you avail yourself to evidence gleaned via futuristic high-resolution (both spatially and temporally) brain scanners. Such evidence, let us suppose, will allow you to determine not only which brain events occur and when, but also which brain events carry which information, and which brain events are false representations. This is, of course, to presume solutions to very vexing issues about information, representation and falsehood, solutions that might beg the question against a Dennettian anti-realism about representation and perhaps, thereby, against Dennettian anti-realism about consciousness, but I won't pursue this line of thought here. However, we will here suppose that such solutions can be arrived at independently of resolving issues about consciousness. Clearly, then, the evidence that you have will, by itself, tell you nothing about which states are conscious. So much for the third-person evidence! To surmount this hurtle for strictly third-person approaches, you may feel tempted to either ask the subject what their conscious experiences are like, or allow yourself to be a subject in this experiment. However, either way you will only gain access to an introspective judgement with a content that we have already seen as underdetermining the choice between the Orwellian and the Stalinesque. Given that there's no real difference between the Orwellian and Stalinesque scenarios, what matters for consciousness is what the scenarios have in common, namely the content of the belief or thought that one underwent a conscious experience of a color-changing, moving circle. There's nothing independent of this belief content that serves to make it true, so having a belief with such-andsuch content is all there is to being in so-and-so conscious state. Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 357 24-08-2017 15:49:14 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness358 According to Dennett, there is no fact of the matter about consciousness aside from how things seem to the subject, and how things seem to the subject is determined by the belief or thought that is arrived at via the process, smeared out in space and time in the brain, of competitions for fame in the brain via multiple content fixations. Some of Dennett's critics have accused his argument here of relying on an untenable verificationism, the view that reality does not outstrip our evidence for it. Dennett does not dodge the charge of verificationism, but instead explicitly embraces a sort of verificationism that he calls first-person operationalism, a thesis that 'brusquely denies the possibility in principle of consciousness of a stimulus in the absence of the subject's belief in that consciousness' (1991, p. 132). Perhaps our consciousness is just the sort of thing that verificationism or operationalism is totally appropriate for. After all, isn't the main thing that we want explained about consciousness is how our minds seem to us? Opponents of the cognitive approach may grant that seeming is indeed what is centrally in need explanation in explaining phenomenal consciousness, but may accuse the cognitive approach of conflating two distinct notions of seeming, one of which, a phenomenal sense of seeming, needs to be kept distinct from a cognitive (or 'doxastic') sense of seeming. (For defences of such a distinction, see (Chisholm 1957; Jackson 1977) and (Fred Dretske 1969); for criticisms, see (Gibbons 2005).) Phenomenal seemings viewed as aspects of mental life that are conscious but distinct from one's own cognitive apprehension of them may be viewed as the sorts of things that many have called qualia, a sort of mental denizen that Dennett has taken pains to argue against. 3.3 Consciousness without Qualia: Dennett's 'Quining' arguments The locus classicus for Dennett's attack on the very idea of qualia is his famous (1988) article 'Quining qualia'. In this article, Dennett argues against the existence of qualia, where the crucial description of what qualia are supposed to be is that they are properties of consciousness that are (1) intrinsic, (2) ineffable, (3) directly known, and (4) private. Logically, if qualia are correctly defined by that four-part description, and nothing exists that satisfies all parts, then qualia do not exist. In order to establish the non-existence of qualia so-defined, an opponent of qualia need only establish the failure of anything to live up to one part of that description. Dennett, however, goes further, and attempts to cast doubt on all four parts. It seems to be Dennett's view that nothing is intrinsic, nothing is ineffable, and so on. Especially pertinent to the present discussion of Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 358 24-08-2017 15:49:14 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 359 cognitive approaches to phenomenal consciousness are Dennett's attacks on the alleged intrinsicality of qualia and their alleged direct knowability. At the heart of Dennett's case against intrinsicality is his thought experiment of the experienced beer drinker. Against the alleged direct knowability of qualia, Dennett marshals his thought experiment of the coffee tasters Chase and Sanborn. A property is an extrinsic property if its instantiation depends on the instantiation of other properties. Otherwise, it is intrinsic. Take, for example, the property of being a parent. If no one instantiates the property of being a child, then no one instantiates the property of being a parent. It is a vexing issue of whether any properties are intrinsic. The property of having some particular weight can be shown to be extrinsic, for one's weight would differ if one were on the moon instead of the Earth. It might be thought that mass is intrinsic, since mass can remain the same despite the aforementioned changes in weight. However, in the context of Einstein's Special Theory of Relativity, we can see that mass itself is extrinsic, for the mass of an object increases as its velocity approaches the speed of light, and velocity itself is a matter of motion, which in turn depends on the kinds of relations a body bears to other bodies and perhaps also to space-time itself. While it is difficult to come up with a clear example of an intrinsic property – a difficulty that may indicate that there actually is no such thing as an intrinsic property – some have thought that so-called qualia are examples of intrinsic properties. One way of conveying the idea that qualia are intrinsic is by reference to the alleged conceivability of intersubjectively undetectable qualia inversions. Conceivably, or so it goes, there could be a being who is behaviourally just like you, including verbal behaviours such as calling out the names of certain colour samples, but what it is like for you to see green is the same as what it is like for them to see red, and vice versa. Suppose further that there is no difference physically between the two of you either. Any inspection of your internal makeup, no matter how fine grained, reveals the same details in the complex arrangements of your physical parts, down to the smallest parts – your cells, molecules etc. No difference detectable from the third-person point of view serves to distinguish you from your doppelgänger, aside from the fact that you can be at different places at the same time. When shown a ripe tomato and asked its colour, you both say 'red'. When asked your favourite colour, you give the same answer. When asked 'which is more similar to red, orange or green?' you both answer 'orange'. Nonetheless, if intersubjectively undetectable qualia inversion is a coherent possibility, then it's possible that what it is like for your doppelgänger to see green, is just like what is like for you to see red. Whereas you Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 359 24-08-2017 15:49:15 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness360 have a red quale in response to a red visual stimulus, your doppelgänger has a green quale in response to the very same stimulus, and a very different stimulus would be needed to elicit a red quale in your doppelgänger. What is supposed to be intrinsic about, for instance, a red quale, is that the red qualia of you and your doppelgänger bear very different relations to your respective behaviours and internal physical structures. Nonetheless, despite all these extrinsic differences, your red quale is just like your doppelgänger's red quale. And thus is a red quale supposed to be intrinsic. Being an intrinsic property leaves open the possibility that among the relations irrelevant to a quale's nature are any relations it bears to cognitive states. If a red quale is intrinsic, then it has the same internal nature regardless of whether it is a quale in the mind of someone who believes that red is one of the ugliest colours ever or instead believes that it is the most beautiful. Dennett attacks the alleged intrinsicality of qualia via a thought experiment. Consider a flavour that many consider to be an acquired taste. Many say the flavour of beer is such a flavour, and many adults who love beer recall not having liked it when they first tasted it. If a quale is supposed to be what you apprehend when you apprehend what it is like to have such-and-such experience, the question arises of whether what it is like for you to taste beer is the same now as it was before you grew to like it. Many experienced beer drinkers who underwent a process of coming to develop an appreciation for beer may be tempted to say that if beer tasted like this when they first tried it, then they wouldn't have hated it, since this flavour (here thought of as a quale), is one that they love. But this line of thinking puts pressure on the idea that what it is like is something intrinsic and in no way dependent on relations, as for instance relations to cognitive sates such as states of liking, hating, etc. If what it is like to taste beer while liking it and what it is like to taste beer while hating it are different, then this puts pressure on the idea that what it is like to taste beer is an intrinsic property unrelated to whether one likes it or not. Dennett turns to another thought experiment for his attack on the alleged direct knowability of qualia. The notion of direct knowing might be conveyed by contrasting it with the indirect way in which many things are known. Consider how it is that you know that you have a brain. It is unlikely that you have ever seen your brain. Even if you had a transparent window in your skull, you would still have to look in a mirror, and draw an inference that the image you see in the mirror correctly reflects the reality of what is in your skull. If you have had an MRI or other kind of medical scan of your brain and seen the resulting images, the knowledge you come to have of your brain is likewise Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 360 24-08-2017 15:49:15 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 361 indirect, for there are inferences that must be made about the reliability of such tests to indicate an underlying reality. For many people, their knowledge that they have a brain is not due to any observation, indirect or otherwise, of their own brain, but instead the result of an inference based on knowledge that they are a human being with typical capacities, and other humans with such capabilities have been shown to have brains. In contrast, so the story goes, your knowledge of whether you currently are experiencing a red quale or a painful quale is supposed to be unmediated by inferences drawn from observations and scientific knowledge. You just introspect and there it is, the quale that is thereby known. But now let us turn to the sort of question raised by the beer drinker thought experiment: Do qualia have wholly intrinsic natures distinct from any judgements one might have about them? If qualia are directly known, then it is reasonable to suppose that the answer to that sort of question is one that can be known directly. Any dispute should just be settled by directly introspecting one's own mental states. Here is where Dennett's next thought experiment serves to call into question such direct knowability. He invites us to imagine two professional coffee tasters, Chase and Sanborn, who work doing quality control for Maxwell House coffee. Both were hired around the same time, and sought out the job in the first place because they enjoyed Maxwell House coffee. But one day they each confess to the other that they no longer enjoy their jobs because they no longer enjoy drinking that brand of coffee. However, despite these similarities between Chase and Sanborn, they differ in how they characterize their respective mental lives with respect to the predicament they find themselves in. Chase claims that the taste has remained the same, but what has changed is that he doesn't like that taste any more. Sanborn claims that the taste has changed, and claims further that if had remained the same, he would still like it. In referring to the taste, they are not referring to the chemical structure of the coffee. Suppose that that chemical structure has remained the same throughout, and they are both aware of that fact. What they are disagreeing about is whether a mental aspect of their reaction to putting that chemical in their respective mouths has remained the same (as Chase claims) or instead changed (as claims Sanborn). Putting the disagreement in terms of qualia, Chase claims that his coffee-associated quale has remained the same, and what has changed is a cognitive state, a judgement or appraisal that he no longer likes that quale. In contrast, Sanborn claims to now have a different quale associated with drinking coffee: He used to have one that he enjoyed, and would enjoy again if he could regain it, but now he has one that he doesn't like. Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 361 24-08-2017 15:49:15 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness362 Dennett urges that no one, not Chase, not Sanborn and not any third party could settle the dispute between Chase and Sanborn. Suppose we imagine trying to settle the dispute by scanning the brains of Chase and Sanborn, and seeking out some evidence about the brain processing stream wherein information flows from their sensory periphery, through their central nervous system, eventually giving rise to the processing that corresponds to a judgement and ultimately in the musculoskeletal activity that is the expression of that judgement. Imagine that we have been scanning Chase and Sanborn regularly throughout their lives. We might go through the resulting data seeking information about whether what has changed about Chase and Sanborn was something relatively early in the neural processing stream versus something later. There are several problems with seeking to settle the dispute this way. The first is that there's really no way of having any idea which part of the processing stream corresponds to a quale versus a judgement about a quale. But there's another problem, one that is much more directly applicable to the present question of whether qualia are directly knowable. If, in order to settle the dispute about whether what has changed in Chase and Sanborn is not something that Chase and Sanborn themselves know simply by introspecting, but requires instead some third-person accessible data such as brain scans, then the claim that such facts about qualia are directly known is thereby undermined. 4 A challenge to cognitive approaches and a possible solution One of the main general kinds of complaint against cognitive approaches to phenomenal consciousness is that it requires more conceptual sophistication on the part of conscious creatures than they can plausibly be said to have or employ for every instance in which they are phenomenally conscious. At the core of this complaint is an assumption of a deep connection between cognition and concepts. A typical example of a cognitive state is the thought that there is coffee in the mug in my hand. According to this assumption, in order to think that there is coffee in the mug in my hand, I must both possess and employ concepts such as the concept of coffee, the concept of a mug, relevant concepts of one thing being in another (perhaps different concepts for coffee being in a mug and a mug being in a hand), and so on. A typical example of a state of phenomenal consciousness is my visual experience of a patch of paint as being the most bright and red thing presently in my visual field. Under the assumption linking concepts to cognition, a natural interpretation of the cognitive approach Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 362 24-08-2017 15:49:15 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 363 to phenomenal consciousness is that concepts are going to play crucial roles in my having a phenomenally conscious state. We can cast this point in terms of a HOT-theoretic version of the cognitive approach. If it subjectively seems to me that I am having a visual experience of a paint patch as being bright and red, then I need to have a thought, a higher-order thought, about one of my own visual experiences, and further, I must think of that visual experience as being an experience of something red, not blue, and as something bright, not dark or dull. And having such thoughts, under the assumption being discussed, requires that I have and deploy concepts such as the concept of a visual experience, a concept of red, a concept of brightness and so on. Here many worries arise hinging on the plausibility of tying phenomenal consciousness to concepts. Perhaps some of the concepts mentioned above, like the concept of a visual experience, are not possessed by, for instance, babies or non-human animals. If such creatures nonetheless have phenomenally conscious visual experiences, then that would contradict at least one version of the cognitive approach, namely the HOT theoretic one just sketched. Another sort of worry in the ballpark, and one that I will dedicate the majority of this section to discussing, is that there is a fine-ness of grain to the contents of phenomenally conscious states that outstrips the concepts possessed and employed by the subjects of such phenomenally conscious states. Focusing specifically on visual experiences of colours, the worry is that even an adult human who possesses concepts of colours – a concept of red, a concept of one colour being brighter than another – there are more colours and aspects of colour than they have concepts for. One particularly famous expression of this 'fineness of grain' concern is one due to Evans (1982). Evans's articulation of the worry has had a wide influence, but he didn't so much spell out an argument as pose a rhetorical question: 'Do we really understand the proposal that we have as many colour concepts as there are shades of colour that we can sensibly discriminate?' (Evans 1982, p. 229). For a full-fledged argument that our experiences of colours have contents that outstrip our conceptual contents, we may turn to the work of Raffman (1995), and examine a powerful empirical argument for the conclusion under consideration. The argument, which Mandik (2012) dubs the Diachronic Indistinguishability Argument (DIA), hinges on (1) a plausible assumption connecting concepts to memory, as well as (2) a widespread empirical phenomenon concerning colours that are discriminable when presented simultaneously but not when presented serially. To illustrate (2) consider being shown two paint chips that are both shades of blue, though when placed side by side, you can just barely see that one is a slightly Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 363 24-08-2017 15:49:15 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness364 darker shade of blue than the other. If, after the chips had been taken away, you were shown one of them again and asked whether it was the exact same shade of blue as the chip that had been on the right, like most people you would be unable to reliably identify whether this was the same shade of blue. Contrast this situation in which the pair of chips you are initially shown are so different as to differ with respect to hue – suppose that one is a shade of blue while the other is a shade of red. In this situation, like most people you would be quite reliable at correctly re-identifying one of the chips across a short memory delay. Let us turn now to consider supposition (1) of the DIA, the supposition connecting concepts to memory. Plausibly, the difference in being able to discriminate colours across a memory delay tracks differences in what colour concepts we have. Most English speakers are adept at using basic colour terms like 'blue' and 'red' and it is natural to suppose that they likewise have concepts of blue and red. And further, when the paint chips are so different as one's being red while the other blue, a short memory delay does not disrupt discrimination. For the shades of blue that are extremely similar, plausibly, very few English speakers know the names of those colours, and it may be similarly plausible that they lack concepts for those individual shades of blue. The gist of the DIA may be put like this: If the cognitive approach is correct, then there shouldn't be more contents to experience than an experiencer has concepts of. When it comes to visible colours, if the colours are one the experiencer has concepts of, as most English speakers have concepts for red and blue, then samples of red and blue are distinguishable across a memory delay. Contrapositively, if a pair of objectively distinct colour samples distinguishable when side by side, call them blue1 and blue2, are not distinguishable across a memory delay, then the subject seems to lack distinct concepts for blue1 and blue2. If we add to the aforementioned assumptions (1) and (2) the additional assumption (3) that the subject has distinct experiences of blue1 and blue2 even when blue1 and blue2 are presented across a memory delay, then there would seem to be more content to visual phenomenal experiences than can be accounted for by the conceptualist resources of the cognitive approach. However, the cognitive approach does have a powerful response to the DIA, and the response hinges on the way a certain conceptualist account can cast doubt on assumption (3) of the DIA. The average English speaker can describe a wide variety of colours with a relatively meagre vocabulary. One does not need, for example, 40 distinct colour names to describe 40 distinct shades of blue. One may instead employ a combination of comparative colour terms and phrases, for example, 'darker than', Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 364 24-08-2017 15:49:15 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 365 with non-comparative colour terms, for example, 'blue', to describe more shades of blue than one has individual colour names for. An individual ignorant of the colour terms 'navy' and 'cobalt' can nonetheless describe respective samples of them as two shades of blue, the former darker than the latter. Assuming one has concepts corresponding to the terms one is conversant with, we may credit typical English speakers as having comparative and non-comparative colour concepts. In our earlier example of being presented with samples blue1 and blue2 distinguishable when presented simultaneously but not diachronically, adherents of the cognitive approach may describe the relevant experiential content as a conceptualized content expressible as follows: When the samples are presented simultaneously, the colour contents of the experience are expressible as 'two shades of blue, one darker than the other' an articulation of the content that deploys both comparative and non-comparative colour terms. In contrast, when blue1 and blue2 are presented diachronically, in each presentation the subject is only in a position to confidently deploy non-comparative colour terms. They may thus, then, conceive each sample simply as a shade of blue. A crucial component of this cognitive approach to explaining the key data in the DIA is the way that it exploits the indeterminate nature of conceptual contents. In conceiving of a shade simply as a shade of blue, the conceptualization is indeterminate with respect to precisely which shade of blue it is, and can likewise be indeterminate with respect to which other shades it is darker than. In her presentation of the DIA, Raffman considers whether her opponent can make some sort of appeal to indeterminate representations to neutralize the threat that the argument poses. She objects against all such approaches that while some of our colour concepts are indeterminate, others are determinate and further, there is no introspective differences with respect to degree of determinacy between our experiences of the colours we have determinate concepts of and the experiences of colours we only have indeterminate concepts of. However, it seems that the cognitive approach has a ready reply to Raffman's objection. According to the sort of conceptualism/cognitivism being scouted here, in order for two experiences to seem different to a subject with respect to degree of determinateness the subject must be applying some relevant concepts of degree of determinateness. However, it may very well be the case that typical subjects during typical acts of introspection do not make any such application of a concept of degree of determinateness, either since they lack such a concept or fail to apply it for some other reason, such as not having much practice in distinguishing their own representations with respect to degree of representational determinateness. Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 365 24-08-2017 15:49:15 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness366 There is much more to say than present space permits on the topic of how the cognitive approach can handle the alleged fineness of grain of phenomenal experience, especially as regards colour experience. For further discussion see Mandik (2012, 2013). 5 Conclusion Cognitive approaches to phenomenal consciousness attempt to explain those aspects of mental life in virtue of which, in the Nagelian phrase, there is something it is like, by appealing to a subject's thoughts, judgements, or other cognitive appraisals about their own mental lives. In so doing, such approaches have the promise of offering a reductive or non-circular explanation of phenomenal consciousness by explaining phenomenal consciousness in terms of cognitive states that are not themselves intrinsically phenomenally conscious (by analogy, one might explain water in terms of hydrogen and oxygen, items that individually are not water). The main cognitive approaches I have looked at, the Higher-Order Thought theory of consciousness of David Rosenthal and the multiple drafts or fame in the brain theory of Daniel Dennett, can be seen as opposed to a qualia-centric approach to phenomenal consciousness, where qualia are thought to be aspects of mental lives that are independent of any cognitive appraisals, thoughts or judgements about one's own mental life. Many of the considerations, both pro and con, in the dispute between qualia-centric and cognitive approaches hinge on thought experiments. However, empirical investigations are pertinent, and in particular we have seen the argument due to Raffman (1995) as an attempt to present empirical data about memory and colour discrimination in an attack on approaches to consciousness that would include the cognitive approach. This empirical argument can be conveyed as one concerning whether phenomenal consciousness has a finer grain than can be adequately captured by the conceptually structured states that are definitive of cognition. However, as I have argued, the cognitive approach has the resources to explain the data Raffman appeals to, and thus ward off the threat posed. References Brown, R. (2015). 'The HOROR Theory of Phenomenal Consciousness' Philosophical Studies, 172 (7), 1783–94 Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 366 24-08-2017 15:49:15 Cognitive Approaches to Phenomenal Consciousness 367 Bruno, M. (2005). A review of Rocco J. Gennaro (ed.) Higher-order theories of consciousness: An anthology. Psyche, 11 (6), 1–11. Byrne, A. (1997). Some like it HOT: consciousness and higher-order thoughts. Philosophical Studies, 86, 103–29. Chalmers, D. J. (1996). The Conscious Mind: In Search of a Fundamental Theory, Oxford: Oxford University Press. Chisholm, R. (1957). Perceiving: A Philosophical Study, Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Dennett, Daniel, (1988), 'Quining Qualia', A. Marcel and E. Bisiach (eds.), Consciousness in Modern Science, Oxford: Oxford University Press. Dennett, D. (1991). Consciousness Explained. Boston, MA: Little Brown, 1–530, Boston, MA: Little, Brown and Company. Dennett, D. (2005). Sweet Dreams: Philosophical Obstacles to a Science of Consciousness, Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Dennett, D. (2015). Not just a fine trip down memory lane: Comments on the essays on Content and Consciousness, in: Munoz-Suarez, C. and De F. Brigard (eds.), Content and Consciousness Revisited: With Replies by Daniel Dennett, 199–220, Berlin: Springer. Dretske, F. (1969). Seeing and Knowing, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Evans, G. (1982). The Varieties of Reference, Oxford: Oxford University Press. Frankish, K. (2016) Illusionism as a theory of consciousness, Journal of Consciousness Studies, 23 (11–12). Frankish, K. (2012). Quining diet qualia, Consciousness and Cognition, 21 (2), 667–76. Gennaro, R. (2006). Between pure self-referentialism and the (extrinsic) HOT theory of consciousness, in U. Kriegel and K. Williford (eds.), Self-Representational Approaches to Consciousness, 221–48, Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Gennaro, R. (2012). The Consciousness Paradox: Consciousness, Concepts, and HigherOrder Thoughts. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Gibbons, J. (2005). Qualia: They're not what they seem, Philosophical Studies, 126, 397–428. Jackson, F. (1977). Perception: A Representative Theory, London: Cambridge University Press. Jackson, F. (1982). 'Epiphenomenal Qualia', Philosophical Quarterly, 32, 127–36. Kriegel, U. (2007). Intentional inexistence and phenomenal intentionality, Philosophical Perspectives, 21, 307–40. Kriegel, U. (2008). The dispensability of (merely) intentional objects, Philosophical Studies, 141, 79–95. Lycan, W. (1996). Consciousness and Experience, Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Mandik, Pete (2016). Meta-Illusionism and Qualia Quietism. Journal of Consciousness Studies, 23 (11-12), 140–148. Mandik, Pete. (2006). The Neurophilosophy of Consciousness, in Velmans, Max and Schneider, Susan (eds.), The Blackwell Companion to Consciousness, 418–30, Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 367 24-08-2017 15:49:15 The Bloomsbury Companion to the Philosophy of Consciousness368 Mandik, P. (2009). Beware of the unicorn: Consciousness as being represented and other things that don't exist, Journal of Consciousness Studies, 16 (1), 5–36. Mandik, Pete. (2012). Color-Consciousness Conceptualism, Consciousness and Cognition, 21 (2), 617–31, Mandik, Pete. (2013). What is Visual and Phenomenal but Concerns neither Hue nor Shade?, in R. Brown (ed.), Consciousness Inside and Out: Phenomenology, Neuroscience, and the Nature of Experience Studies in Brain and Mind, vol. 6, 219–27, London: Springer. Mandik, Pete. (2015). Conscious-state Anti-realism, in Munoz-Suarez, C. and De F. Brigard (eds.), Content and Consciousness Revisited: With Replies by Daniel Dennett, 185–97, Berlin: Springer. Mandik, Pete. (2017). Robot Pain, in Corns, J. (ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Philosophy of Pain, New York: Routledge. Nagel, T. (1974). What is it like to be a bat? Philosophical Review, 83, 435–50. Raffman, D. (1995). On the persistence of phenomenology, in T. Metzinger (ed.), Conscious Experience. Munich: Imprint Academic Verlag. Rosenthal, D. M. (2005). Consciousness and Mind, Oxford: Clarendon Press Rosenthal, D. (2011). 'Exaggerated Reports: Reply to Block', Analysis, 71 (3), 431–7 Sellars, W. (1997). Empiricism and the Philosophy of Mind (with an Introduction by Richard Rorty and a Study Guide by Robert Brandom), Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Velmans, Max and Schneider, Susan, eds. (2006) The Blackwell Companion to Consciousness, Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Wilberg, J. (2010). Consciousness and false HOTs. Philosophical Psychology, 23 (5), 617–38. Bloomsbury companion to the philosophy of consciousness.indb 368 24-08-2017 15:49:
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Vài suy nghĩ về h-index trong cuộc chuyến biến đo lường công trạng khoa học ở Việt Nam Hồ Mạnh Toàn Kinh tế và Dự báo (ISSN: 0866-7120) Vol. 52, No. 32, Serial 714, pp. 38-40 Hà Nội, tháng 11-2019 38 Kinh teá vaø Döï baùo PHAÂN TÍCH NHAÄN ÑÒNH DÖÏ BAÙO löôïng coâng trình xuaát baûn. Tuy nhieân, ñoù môùi chae laø ñieàu kieän caàn, ñieàu kieän tieáp theo laø trong soá ñoù coù nhieàu coâng trình ñöôïc trích daãn thöôøng xuyeân, moät chae soá veà aûnh höôûng cuûa taùc phaåm. Tuy nhieân, coù coâng trình trích daãn cao vaãn chöa ñaûm baûo ñieàu kieän ñuû, maø caàn nhieàu coâng trình trích daãn cao, vì h ôû ñaây laø h coâng boá vôùi toái thieåu h trích daãn [5]. Môû baát kyø hoà sô khoa hoïc naøo, thöïc teá cho thaáy, ñeå coù möùc h toái thieåu, thì soá laàn trích daãn cao nhaát cho moät taùc phaåm thöôøng cao hôn ñaùng keå so vôùi möùc h toái thieåu. Laáy ví duï döõ lieäu töø trang Google Scholar cuûa GS. Nguyeãn Vaên Hieáu, Tröôøng Ñaïi hoïc Phenikaa (https://scholar.google. com/citations?user=9ZSh2rsAAAAJ) (Hình). Ñeå ñaït tôùi möùc h-index laø 37, GS. Nguyeãn Vaên Hieáu ñaõ coù löôïng trích daãn cuûa 5 baøi cao nhaát chaïy töø 122 ñeán 191, töùc laø cao gaáp 3 ñeán 5 laàn so vôùi ngöôõng h. Ñieàu naøy cuõng coù yù nghóa veà möùc ñoä khoù trong vieäc gia taêng cuûa h-index, vì noù lieân quan ñeán caû söï nghieäp cuûa moät nhaø nghieân cöùu [6]. Ñoàng thôøi, noù cuõng coù khaû naêng ñoùng vai troø thoáng keâ phaân nhoùm, cho duø coù caùc yù kieán khaùc nhau veà "giaù trò" cuûa con soá. Thöù hai, caùc ngöôõng h-index coù khaû naêng thay ñoåi ñaùng keå khi söû duïng caùc cô sôû döõ lieäu khaùc nhau. Hieän nay, 3 cô sôû döõ lieäu phoå bieán nhaát laø Google Scholar, ISI Web of Science (WOS) vaø Söï thieáu vaéng h-index trong cuoán saùch (khoâng xuaát hieän vôùi tö caùch moät noäi dung traéc löôïng khoa hoïc ñaùng quan taâm trong baát kyø chöông naøo) khieán toâi ngaïc nhieân, vì caû hai editors ñeàu laø caùc nhaø nghieân cöùu giaøu kinh nghieäm vaø hieåu roõ xu höôùng quan taâm ñang taêng leân vôùi h-index ôû Vieät Nam. Caù nhaân toâi cho raèng, lyù do ñeå cuoán The Vietnamese Social Sciences at a Fork in the Road [4] khoâng ñaët vaán ñeà hay phaân tích veà h-index coù leõ laø vì tính chaát gaây tranh caõi cuûa soá ño naøy (Taùc giaû Traàn Trung cho bieát, cuõng ñaõ baét ñaàu coù thaûo luaän trong moät soá nhoùm chính saùch khoa hoïc veà khaû naêng söû duïng h-index nhö döõ lieäu tham chieáu cho nhieàu coâng vieäc lieân quan tôùi ñaùnh giaù khoa hoïc). Keå töø khi ñöôïc nhaø vaät lyù Jorge Hirsch ñeà xuaát vaøo naêm 2005 [5], chae soá h-index ñaõ nhanh choùng ñöôïc coäng ñoàng khoa hoïc chuù yù vì caùch keát hôïp thuù vò quan heä giöõa so vôùi toång soá coâng boá, hay toång soá trích daãn [6,7]. Tuy nhieân, laïi coù moät soá yù kieán khaùc cho raèng, h-index gaây ra söï thieáu nhaát quaùn trong caùch ñaùnh giaù khoa hoïc [8], cuõng nhö khoâng thaät söï hieäu quaû trong ñaùnh giaù caùc nhaø nghieân cöùu treû vì h-index caàn thôøi gian ñeå tích luõy leân caùc möùc cao hôn [9]. TÍNH HÖÕU DUÏNG CUÛA H-INDEX TRONG BOÁI CAÛNH VIEÄT NAM Tuy vaäy, xeùt trong hoaøn caûnh cuï theå vaø söï chuyeån bieán heä thoáng khoa hoïc xaõ hoäi vaø nhaân vaên cuûa Vieät Nam [10,11], vieäc söû duïng h-index vaãn coù khaû naêng ñoùng goùp tích cöïc, cuï theå nhö sau: Thöù nhaát, h-index coù tính chaát thoáng keâ "toång hôïp" cho moät caù nhaân, xeùt theo caû haønh trình ñoùng goùp cho khoa hoïc. Chuùng ta bieát raèng, ñeå coù h-index cao, moät taùc giaû caàn coù nhieàu ñoùng goùp tính treân soá Vaøi suy nghó veà h-index trong cuoäc bieán chuyeån ño löôøng coâng traïng khoa hoïc ôû Vieät Nam HOÀ MAÏNH TOAØN* Laø moät taùc giaû ñoùng goùp trong moät soá chöông saùch [1,2,3] trong cuoán monograph xuaát baûn bôûi De Gruyter/Sciendo cuoái thaùng 10/2019 veà xuaát baûn hoïc thuaät trong khoái ngaønh khoa hoïc xaõ hoäi vaø nhaân vaên giai ñoaïn 2008-2018, toâi nhaän thaáy chae soá h-index coù leõ laø chuû ñeà duy nhaát maø noäi dung cuoán saùch chöa ñeà caäp tôùi. * SDAG Lab, Tröôøng Ñaïi hoïc Phenikaa 39Economy and Forecast Review 8/11/2017 veà vieäc coâng boá danh muïc taïp chí quoác teá vaø quoác gia coù uy tín trong lónh vöïc khoa hoïc xaõ hoäi vaø nhaân vaên laø Scopus vaø ISI WOS [15]. Nhö vaäy, h-index, ít nhaát laø theo cô sôû döõ lieäu Scops vaø ISI WOS, seõ giuùp cung caáp caùc goùc nhìn ña daïng, nhaát laø khi ñöôïc keát hôïp vôùi vieäc quan saùt caùc möùc trích daãn taùc phaåm caù nhaân. Nhöõng thoáng keâ naøy cho pheùp cô baûn nhìn thaáy toång quan möùc ñoùng goùp cuûa moät taùc giaû cho khoa hoïc vaø khi so saùnh trong ngaønh cho bieát vò trí cuûa moät caù nhaân trong toång theå. VAØI NHAÄN XEÙT BOÅ SUNG Chae soá h-index raát deã hieåu, nhöng nhö treân ñaõ trình baøy, khoâng heà ñôn giaûn hoùa nhö nhieàu laäp luaän chae trích, pheâ bình, maø thöïc ra hoaøn toaøn coù theå keát hôïp vôùi caùc döõ lieäu lieân quan ñeå giuùp nhaän bieát vò trí cuûa moät caù nhaân taùc giaû trong toång theå chung caùc taùc giaû cuøng ngaønh. Do caùc chae soá h-index trong cuøng ngaønh hoaøn toaøn coù theå so saùnh tröïc tieáp vôùi nhau, khoaûng caùch giöõa 2 taùc giaû chaéc chaén theå hieän khoaûng caùch veà taùc ñoäng keùp ñoàng thôøi giöõa möùc ñoä ñoùng goùp (soá löôïng) vaø möùc ñoä aûnh höôûng (trích daãn). Ñoù laø söï thaät khoâng theå tranh caõi. Trong boái caûnh neàn khoa hoïc Vieät Nam ñang höôùng tôùi hoäi nhaäp quoác teá, naâng tieâu chuaån chaát löôïng cuûa heä thoáng nghieân cöùu khoa hoïc, h-index cuõng ñaéc duïng vôùi caùc chae soá ñöôïc Scopus vaø ISI Web of Science tính toaùn saün vaø cung caáp vöøa mieãn phí vöøa minh baïch. Ñaây laø moät thuaän lôïi maø chae vaøi naêm tröôùc khoâng ai coù theå töôûng töôïng ra, nhöng ngaøy nay laïi laø söï thaät raát Scopus. Moät soá nghieân cöùu veà ñaëc tính thoáng keâ trích daãn, söï töông ñoàng vaø khaùc bieät giöõa chuùng, tieâu bieåu laø söï sai khaùc soá baøi ôû caùc ngaønh do chính saùch chae muïc hoaù cuûa töøng cô sôû döõ lieäu, söï sai leäch giöõa soá löôïng trích daãn ñöôïc ghi nhaän [12-14]. Ví duï, h-index cuûa caùc nhaø nghieân cöùu ñaát treân Google Scholar vaø Scopus cao hôn ISI WOS laàn löôïng trung bình 1,4 vaø 1,1 laàn, vì soá löôïng baøi vaø trích daãn cuûa Google Scholar vaø Scopus laø nhieàu hôn so vôùi ISI WOS [14]. Moät ví duï khaùc cuï theå hôn laø hoà sô Google Scholar cuûa toâi (https://scholar.google. com/citations?user=19LJwgIAAAAJ) cho thaáy, möùc h-index laø 8. Tuy nhieân, theo cô sôû döõ lieäu Publons (ñaõ tích hôïp WOS), thì h-index giaûm nhanh xuoáng 4 vaø Scopus h-index thaäm chí "co ngoùt" tieáp xuoáng coøn 2. Hieän nay, giôùi nghieân cöùu Vieät Nam coù khuynh höôùng taäp trung vaøo söû duïng chính 2 cô sôû döõ lieäu laø Scopus vaø ISI WOS. Moät phaàn laø vì tính chaát khaét khe hôn caû veà phöông dieän chaát löôïng aán phaåm cuûa hai cô sôû döõ lieäu naøy, moät phaàn khaùc laø vì cô sôû coâng nhaän tính hôïp chuaån cuûa coâng boá quoác teá cuûa NAFOSTED theo Quyeát ñònh soá 224/QÑ-HÑQL-NAFOSTED, ngaøy HÌNH: TRANG GOOGLE SCHOLAR GS. NGUYEÃN VAÊN HIEÁU (TRÖÔØNG ÑAÏI HOÏC PHENIKAA) 40 Kinh teá vaø Döï baùo PHAÂN TÍCH NHAÄN ÑÒNH DÖÏ BAÙO thöïc söï phuø hôïp ñeå trôû thaønh moät trong caùc tieâu chuaån caùc chöùc danh quan troïng vôùi giaù trò toân vinh söï coáng hieán cuûa moät nhaø nghieân cöùu. Treân thöïc teá, vôùi muïc tieâu tieán tôùi hoäi nhaäp vaø coù vò theá ngang baèng toái thieåu vôùi nhoùm treân cuûa ASEAN, vôùi ngaønh kinh teá/quaûn trò, hieám khi naøo ngöôøi ñöôïc boå nhieäm giaùo sö ôû caùc tröôøng ñaïi hoïc chaát löôïng trong khu vöïc laïi coù möùc h-index döôùi 10, vaø giaùo sö thöôøng coù möùc h-index treân 20, tính treân cô sôû döõ lieäu Scopus hoaëc ISI WOS. Nhöõng öùng vieân xeùt chöùc danh caàn ñaït tieâu chuaån toái thieåu naøy tröôùc khi xeùt ñeán caùc tieâu chuaån boå sung khaùc. deã daøng kieåm chöùng. Vieäc tranh caõi veà caùc tieâu chuaån tuø muø, keùm minh baïch cuõng coù theå chaám döùt vôùi vieäc thoáng nhaát söû duïng ñoàng thôøi döõ lieäu khoa hoïc Scopus hoaëc ISI WOS hoaëc caû hai, cuøng vôùi soá ño h-index cuûa 2 heä thoáng döõ lieäu khoa hoïc uy tín nhaát theá giôùi hieän nay. Taát caû ñeàu mieãn phí vaø tieän lôïi, hoaøn toaøn minh baïch vôùi xaõ hoäi vaø raát thuaän lôïi cho caùc nhieäm vuï giaùm saùt, kieåm tra döõ lieäu. Moät nguï yù nöõa laø, thoâng tin tham khaûo ñaùng tin caäy cho vieäc ra quyeát ñònh veà caùc tieâu chuaån chöùc danh quan troïng vaø ñöôïc coi laø uy tín cuûa xaõ hoäi. Laáy ví duï chöùc danh giaùo sö vaø phoù giaùo sö, cuoäc tranh caõi vôùi ñuû caùc loaïi yù kieán, goùc nhìn, cô baûn coù theå ñöôïc kheùp laïi vôùi vieäc coâng boá caùc möùc h-index döïa treân Scopus hoaëc ISI WOS, hoaëc caû hai. Laø moät chae soá coù tính chaát "toång hôïp" chieàu daøi coáng hieán [9], h-index TAØI LIEÄU THAM KHAÛO 1. Nguyen, T.-T., La, V.-P., Ho, M.-T., & Nguyen, H.-K. T. (2019). Chapter Scientific publishing: a slow but steady rise, In: Quan-Hoang Vuong, Trung Tran (Eds.), The Vietnamese Social Sciences at a Fork in the Road, pp. 33-51, Warsaw, Poland: De Gruyter/Sciendo. doi: 10.2478/9783110686081-007 2. Nguyen, H.-K. T., Nguyen, T.-H. T., Ho, M.-T., & Ho, M.-T., & Vuong, Q.-H. (2019). Chapter 7. Scientific publishing: the point of no return. In: Quan-Hoang Vuong, Trung Tran (Eds.), The Vietnamese Social Sciences at a Fork in the Road, pp. 143-162, Warsaw, Poland: De Gruyter / Sciendo. doi: 10.2478/9783110686081-012 3. Ho, M.-T., Hoang, K.-L., Nguyen, M.-H., & Ho, M.-T. (2019). Chapter 8. The emerging business of science in Vietnam. In: Quan-Hoang Vuong, Trung Tran (Eds.), The Vietnamese Social Sciences at a Fork in the Road, pp. 163-177, Warsaw, Poland: De Gruyter/Sciendo., https://doi. org/10.2478/9783110686081-013 4. Vuong, Q.-H., & Tran, T. (2019). The Vietnamese Social Sciences at a Fork in the Road. Warsaw, Poland: De Gruyter / Sciendo (ISBN: 9783110686081). doi: 10.2478/9783110686081 5. Hirsch, J. E. (2005). An index to quantify an individual's scientific research output, PNAS, 102(46), 16569-16572; https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.0507655102 6. Ball, P. (2005). Index aims for fair ranking of scientists, Nature, 436, 900, doi:10.1038/436900a 7. Bornmann, L., & Daniel, H.-D. (2005). Does the h-index for ranking of scientists really work?, Scientometrics, 65(3), 391-302 8. Waltman, L., & Eck, N. J. V. (2011). The inconsistency of the h-index, Journal of the American Society for Information Science and Technology, 63(2), 406-415 9. Sumpter, J. P. (2019). What makes a good scientist? Karl Fent as an example, Journal of Hazardous Materials, 376, 233-238, DOI: 10.1016/j.jhazmat.2019.05.016 10. Vuong, Q. H. (2019). The harsh world of publishing in emerging regions and implications for editors and publishers: The case of Vietnam, Learned Publishing, 32(4), 314-324; doi: 10.1002/ LEAP.1255 11. Vuong, Q. H. (2019). Breaking barriers in publishing demands a proactive attitude, Nature Human Behaviour, 3(10), 1034; doi: 10.1038/s41562-019-0667-6 12. Bar-Ilan, J. (2008). Which h-index? A comparison of WoS, Scopus and Google Scholar, Scientometrics, 74(2), 257-271, DOI: 10.1007/s11192-008-0216-y 13. De Groote, S. L., & Raszewski, R. (2012). Coverage of Google Scholar, Scopus, and Web of Science: A case study of the h-index in nursing, Nursing Outlook, 60(6), 391-400, DOI: 10.1016/j. outlook.2012.04.007 14. Minasny, B., Hartemink, A. E., McBratney, A., & Jang, H. J. (2013). Citations and the h index of soil researchers and journals in the Web of Science, Scopus, and Google Scholar, PeerJ, 1, e183, DOI: 10.7717/peerj.183 15. NAFOSTED (2017). Quyeát ñònh soá 224/QÑ-HÑQL-NAFOSTED, ngaøy 08/11/2017 veà vieäc coâng boá danh muïc taïp chí quoác teá vaø quoác gia coù uy tín trong lónh vöïc khoa hoïc xaõ hoäi vaø nhaân vaên
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Journal of the APA, vol. 1, no. 1. DOI: 10.1017/apa.2014.18 David Lewis, Donald C. Williams, and the History of Metaphysics in the Twentieth Century a. r. j. fisher ABSTRACT: The revival of analytic metaphysics in the latter half of the twentieth century is typically understood as a consequence of the critiques of logical positivism, Quine's naturalization of ontology, Kripke's Naming and Necessity, clarifications of modal notions in logic, and the theoretical exploitation of possible worlds. However, this explanation overlooks the work of metaphysicians at the height of positivism and linguisticism that affected metaphysics of the late twentieth century. Donald C. Williams is one such philosopher. In this paper I explain how Williams's fundamental ontology and philosophy of time influenced in part the early formation of David Lewis's metaphysics. Thus, Williams played an important role in the revival of analytic metaphysics. KEYWORDS: David Lewis, Donald C. Williams, history of metaphysics 1 Introduction Analytic metaphysics is alive and kicking. But it wasn't always like this. In the 1930s metaphysical speculation gradually fell out of fashion due to the growing popularity of logical positivism and the many varieties of linguisticism that were championed by ordinary language philosophers and the later Wittgenstein. This lasted until the 1960s whereupon metaphysics began to recover and eventually found itself once again in mainstream philosophy. A typical explanation for this 're-birth' of metaphysics is that the critique of logical positivism's theory of meaning and analyticity, especially by W. V. Quine in reaction to Rudolf Carnap, opened up the study of ontology and left the anti-metaphysics stance of positivism unconvincing and unmotivated. What made Quine's conception of ontology so influential was that he naturalized or domesticated metaphysics by making it part of the same continuum as science; it is not to be regarded, he thought, as a stand-alone discipline that explores a priori concepts of the pervasive features of reality, a view of metaphysics that positivists ridiculed and caricaturized. By the late 1950s ordinary language philosophers were addressing metaphysical issues in their own way. P. F. Strawson (1959) presented a 'descriptive metaphysics' by describing the general features of our conceptual structure to reveal a picture of reality that is made up of material objects and persons as 'basic particulars' in a framework of space-time. Not far behind were the semantic developments in modal logic that led to the clarification of modal notions and an increasing use of the concept of possible worlds. This was coupled with investigations into the nature of necessity and possibility as found in the work of Roderick Chisholm, Kit Fine, David Lewis, Alvin Plantinga, and others. Saul Kripke and Hilary Putnam's defense of necessary a posteriori truths and their respective theories of 'direct reference' also gave rise to a new version of essentialism. As a result, traditional questions of metaphysics were brought to the fore but were studied with modern tools of logical analysis and sophisticated views of meaning and reference. Metaphysics thus became a main part of analytic philosophy 2 a. r. j. fisher (for a recent history of the revival of analytic metaphysics, see Glock [2008: ch. 2]; cf. Soames [2003]). However, metaphysics after logical positivism does not entirely owe its existence to the crumbling of the foundations of logical positivism, Quine's conception of ontology, and developments of reference and modality by Kripke, ordinary language philosophers, and others who are to be counted as taking the linguistic turn. The 1950s had flurries of metaphysical activity that were pre-Kripke, sometimes hostile to Quine, or borne out of the linguistic turn stemming from Russell and Frege in other ways. Philosophers who vaguely fit this description include Max Black, Herbert Hochberg, Anthony Quinton, J. J. C. Smart, and Richard Taylor. We can go further back to find Hochberg's teacher, Gustav Bergmann, doing metaphysics in the 1940s, albeit in a positivistic manner due to his upbringing in the Vienna circle. Bergmann's 'ontological turn' had an impact on Hochberg in the 1950s and on some of his other students, such as Reinhardt Grossmann in the 1960s, who ought to be recognized as playing some role as an undercurrent in the revival of metaphysics. There have been recent efforts to highlight this fact (Macbride 2014). I wish to go even further back to the late 1920s and 1930s to discuss the work of the American philosopher Donald C. Williams (1899–1983) and his role in the development and revival of metaphysics in the latter half of the twentieth century. Williams defended his own brand of realism in reaction to the metaphysics of the 1900s through the 1930s and in face of the anti-metaphysical trends from the 1930s through the 1960s. Some of his views have survived as genuine options in contemporary metaphysics. His work was studied in Australia and affected the metaphysics of several Australian philosophers such as D. M. Armstrong and Keith Campbell (Armstrong 1993: 72, n. 1). As professor of philosophy at Harvard University, Williams taught David Lewis who matriculated at Harvard University as a graduate student in the fall of 1962. Lewis attended Williams's lectures on metaphysics 'circa 1963' (Lewis 1991: 56, n. 13), did an independent study on the metaphysics of time with Williams (fall 1965 and spring 1966), and in the spring of 1965 enrolled in Williams's course 'PHIL157 Metaphysics: Problems of Cosmology'. His term paper for this course was entitled 'How to Establish the Identity Theory'; it eventually became 'An Argument for the Identity Theory' (1966). Williams was to have a lasting influence on Lewis's general metaphysical outlook and philosophy of time. After Lewis received comments from Williams on his PHIL157 term paper, he wrote a letter to Jack Smart about Williams's misgivings regarding his claim that 'the nominal essences of experiences as such are their causal roles'. Lewis says: 'I'm sorry I can't give Williams a theory he'd accept, for I've come to be quite sympathetic with almost all of what he's doing' (Letter to J. J. C. Smart, 8 May 1965, p. 2). It should not be a surprise to learn that Lewis looked up to Williams and took on certain aspects of Williams's metaphysics although in a distinctive way, for the teacherstudent relation quite often becomes a relationship of influence and reaction (see Nolan [2007] for discussion). In addition, close readers of Lewis's work will notice the many places where Lewis cites Williams, sometimes as a tribute to Williams's work (Lewis's oeuvre contains the following explicit references to Williams: Lewis [1976: 147; 1983b: 99; 1986a: 26; 1986b: 64, 68, 93, 123; 1986c: x, 71; 1990: 30; 1991: 33, 56, 76; 1994: 474]). John Heil provides a discussion of the connection between Willewis, williams, and the history of metaphysics 3 liams and Lewis in his latest book The Universe As We Find It, concluding that 'the ontological picture we today associate with David Lewis can be found in fledgling form in Williams's' (2012: 110). The main thesis of this paper is that Lewis was in fact influenced in part by the Humean framework of Williams's metaphysical outlook and in part by Williams's metaphysics of time and time travel. I italicized the phrase 'in part' to highlight the fact that I am not claiming that Williams was the sole influence on Lewis with respect to these metaphysical doctrines. Lewis also attended seminars by Quine at Harvard and by Nelson Goodman at Brandeis that influenced his general metaphysical views, metaphysics of time, and approach to ontology. Various other philosophers at various times in Lewis's career also had an impact on the development of his metaphysics. His study of Hume at Oxford in 1959 and 1960 and discussions with his undergraduate teachers at Swarthmore College-in particular, Michael Scriven and Jerome Shaffer-played a part in the formation of his views on causation and of his theory of mind. Lewis also owes much to Richard Montague at UCLA regarding counterfactuals and much to Armstrong in his adoption of a theory of natural properties. In what follows, I compare Williams's view of the universe as a four-dimensional spread of qualities in space-time with Lewis's doctrine of Humean supervenience (§ 2). I discuss the similarities of their views on the metaphysics of time (§ 3) and present the debate they had in their correspondence about how a time traveler can and cannot change the past (§ 4). I conclude with a summary and defense of my evaluation of the connection between Williams and Lewis (§ 5). Williams is an important but neglected philosopher. Many of his views are unheard of and the historical context in which he is situated is largely forgotten. He was raised on a diet of straight metaphysics in the mid-1920s as a student at Berkeley and Harvard, reading and becoming immersed in the work of Samuel Alexander, F. H. Bradley, Bernard Bosanquet, C. D. Broad, Edwin B. Holt, C. I. Lewis, A. O. Lovejoy, Ralph Perry, J. M. E. McTaggart, William P. Montague, Bertrand Russell, George Santayana, Roy Wood Sellars, G. F. Stout, and others. He was especially affected by the direct realism, empiricism, and materialism of Alexander (1920) and the New Realists (Holt et al., 1912), defending (Williams 1934b) and adopting direct realism about perception (Williams 1959a: 207–8; 1966b: 243–44),1 physical reductionism about color and other secondary qualities (Williams 1930: 520; 1944: 433; 1966b: 228–29), and metaphysical materialism, the view that 'every existent entity is located, extended, and composed in space and time' (Williams 1946: 580). In the 1950s Williams devoted much of his efforts to what he called 'analytic ontology'. In 'On the Elements of Being' (1953a, 1953b), Williams articulated a fundamental ontology of abstract particulars or 'tropes', although he had argued for the existence of abstract particulars as early as 1931 (see Williams 1931: 589).2 According to Williams, tropes constitute the one and only fundamental category of being. Concrete particulars and abstract universals are reduced to or analyzed in terms of abstract par- 1 Throughout I cite the original articles by Williams and provide the corresponding reference from his collection of papers: Principles of Empirical Realism (1966b) if the work I'm citing is reprinted in the collection, and I include a page reference. 2 For recent work on trope ontology, see (Maurin 2002; Schneider 2002; Trettin 2000). For a classic book on tropes in contemporary metaphysics, see (Campbell 1990). 4 a. r. j. fisher ticulars. Concrete particulars like tables and chairs are mereological sums of compresent tropes and abstract universals like Redness and Justice (on the 1953 view) are sets of similar tropes. What is often overlooked is that by 19573 Williams had given up on this set-theoretic view of universals and endorsed a variety of immanent realism according to which tropes 'manifest' universals (Williams 1959[1986]: 7–10; 1963: 615– 17). He also defended the view that the past, present, and future are equally real and the view that concrete particulars are composed of temporal parts (Williams 1951a, 1951b). He continued to write on the metaphysics of time and time travel in the 1960s and presented an updated version of his metaphysical system in his 1974 University of Notre Dame lectures: 'The Elements and Patterns of Being' (DCW Papers, HUG(FP) 53.45, box 8, folders marked: 'Notre Dame Lectures 1974', HUA). Williams grew up on the edge of an era in the early twentieth century during which metaphysics was all the rage but at a tipping point and about to decline. It is true that in the 1930s many philosophers still did metaphysics. Broad's Examination of McTaggart's Philosophy is a case in point. But most of these philosophers were of a previous generation. Williams was still quite young and would only reach his peak in the 1940s and 1950s. Moreover, unlike other philosophers of his generation (born between 1890 and 1910), he was not raised on positivism like Bergmann and Black, nor did he follow the tide of linguisticism when it began to flourish. He stuck with the concerns of the figures of earlier generations who believed that metaphysics was a legitimate enterprise. Williams defended metaphysics as a form of inquiry that consisted of genuine knowledge of the nature of things and argued vehemently against positivism (Williams 1937/1938, 1938) and linguisticism (see, for instance, Williams 1959b). His philosophical method was based on induction (Williams 1947) and the weighing up of competing hypotheses against the scientific picture of the world, common sense, and a theory's explanatory power and simplicity. He argued for all of his views on these grounds (see, for instance, Williams 1934a). He can be seen as an early defender of 'inference to the best explanation', a common justification for hypotheses in contemporary metaphysics. Williams thus occupies an important part in the history of philosophy and can be seen as a vital 'link' connecting the metaphysics of the early and later parts of the twentieth century. 2 Williams's Actualism and Lewis's Humean Supervenience Williams defended a basic metaphysical view he called actualism. He writes, [A]ctualism is [the view] that the world is composed wholly of actual or factual entities, including concreta like a horse and abstracta like his neigh, and the sums and the sets thereof, all on the one plane of particular and definite existents. There are no substrata of potency or prime matter, no forces or virtues, no blur of indefiniteness or press of tendency; no superstructure of unexampled essences or disembodied possibilities or transcendental acts of being. (Williams 1959a: 203; 1966b: 239) 3 On 22 November 1957 he wrote to Richard B. Brandt in reply to Brandt sending an offprint of Brandt's 1957 article. In this letter Williams proposes his revised theory of universals (Donald Cary Williams Papers, HUG(FP) 53.6, box 8, folder 2, Harvard University Archives). The first and last parts of all future references to the Williams Papers will be abbreviated to 'DCW Papers' and 'HUA' respectively. lewis, williams, and the history of metaphysics 5 As with other varieties of actualism that appeared after Williams's view, there are no concrete possible worlds, concrete possible individuals, possibly existing things, or nonexistent objects. His actualism is notably austere in its rejection of causal powers, primitive dispositions, and necessarily existing abstracta such as states of affairs or propositions, things later actualists are happy to posit (Adams 1974: 231, n. 8). Williams's actualism is not only a statement about what exists. It is also a fundamental ontology. The passage quoted above continues, Our actual entities, I specify further, are all either simple [qualities], or relations belonging to one of three primitive categories, or some compound of these. The relational categories which I think sufficient and necessary are the whole-part or "merological" relations, resemblances or "comparisons," and locative distances and directions, not necessarily the physical geometry of space-time, but at least some analogous modes of deployment. (Williams 1959a: 203–4; 1966b: 239–40; cf. Williams 1959[1986]: 2–4) According to Williams, there are only actual qualities and these are governed by three fundamental relations: (1) spatiotemporal relations, (2) parthood relations, and (3) similarity relations. There are no other fundamental relations, and any other relations that exist are merely compounds or combinations of these three relations. Our world, then, is a system of space-time littered with simple qualities in various arrangements throughout a four-dimensional manifold, along with mereological sums and sets of these quality distributions. The qualities that are spread over space-time stand in internal similarity relations to each other of a wide degree and variety. This white quality and that white quality exactly resemble each other, whereas this crimson quality somewhat resembles that vermillion quality, and more so than our initial white qualities, and so on. Facts of similarity provide explanatory power in certain ways. For Williams, they account for ways things could have been. The relevant set or sum of actual qualities resembles the set or sum of qualities that could have been instantiated or could have occurred at the same place and same time. The actual world as a field of similarity constitutes many 'attribute spaces' that resemble the actual world and other 'attribute spaces' in infinite ways (Williams 1959[1986]: 14; see also Williams 1963). Regarding the parthood relation, Williams accepts classical extensional mereology. He thinks there are gerrymandered sums composed of Napoleon, the moon, and that elm tree as well as concrete objects found in everyday experience such as tables and chairs. He also thinks there are mereological sums of qualities that are either scattered across space-time or in the same region of space at the same time. Williams's motivation for the thesis that any two things compose an object is based on vagueness. He writes, We have in daily life a job lot of useful tacit rules about what extra patterning of position and resemblance, on top of the bare partitive relations, suffices to distinguish "real things" or "wholes," like an atom, an axe, a cabbage, a man, from "mere sums": the former are solid, they contrast with the milieu, they hang together while they move, and so forth. But the idea is vague. (Williams 1959a: 219; 1966b: 255) Williams's argument is that the notion of an 'intuited integrity' that we assign to objects such as ourselves or ordinary objects is vague and therefore does not provide grounds for positing an additional relation to the three we have already admitted. He thus anticipates more refined arguments against restricted composition that are still 6 a. r. j. fisher discussed (see, for instance, Miller 2005) and that stem from Lewis's vagueness argument (Lewis 1986b: 212). According to Williams's preferred theory of properties, qualities are tropes or abstract particulars. But his actualism does not depend on this thesis. In his 1974 lectures at the University of Notre Dame he begins with the more theory-neutral notion of 'particular entity' or 'actual element' and explains at length how 'elements' stand in spatiotemporal and mereological relations (Lecture 1, pages marked '102–110'; DCW Papers, HUG(FP) 53.45, box 8, folder: ''How Reality is Reasonable' Notre Dame Lectures 1974', HUA). He is thus bracketing what the nature of the relata of these two fundamental relations really are. Furthermore, it is only when he considers the resemblance relation that he introduces the notion of a quality and in a similar way he leaves it open whether qualities are tropes, universals, or something else entirely. Williams speaks of qualities as primitive entities and space and time as mere relations. So he seems to be committed to the relational theory of space and time. But at the current level of abstraction Williams is not committing himself to any particular theory of space and time, beyond saying that time is just another dimension of the extensive manifold. He thinks specific questions about the nature of space and time fall under the inquiry he calls 'speculative cosmology', which is to be contrasted with the more general and prior mode of inquiry he calls 'analytic ontology'. In constructing his fundamental ontology of qualities and relations, he is open to physical science telling us that space and time are mere relations between primitive entities or that space-time is a substance-like thing or stuff in which objects with qualities are located or that space-time is made up of points that directly instantiate simple qualities. For Williams, at the fundamental level we have arrangements of qualities in a fourdimensional manifold that stand in parthood and resemblance relations to each other in myriad ways. There are no other relations or necessary connections between distinct entities. Williams's actualism is therefore incompatible with causal relations that fail to supervene on the four-dimensional arrangements of qualities. He writes, [Actualism] seems also inhospitable toward anything like an entailment between cause and effect, for the same traits of it which enable one fact about one locus to entail another fact about the same locus, as This is square entails This is rectangular, and enables one locus to be similar or dissimilar to another, preclude that a fact about one locus should entail a fact about another locus. There surely can be no transeunt entailments in a manifold of existence and location. (1953c: 122, his italics) Williams objects to theories of causation according to which 'causal connection is, in a sense, a necessary connection' (Ushenko 1953: 92). According to A. P. Ushenko, if there is a causal chain connecting A, B, and C in this order, then it is impossible that 'a state different from B might have occurred between A and C' (Ushenko 1953: 99). Williams thinks it is metaphysically possible for two events that are causally related not to be so related. The manifold fails to entail any (qualified or unqualified) necessary connections that could be labeled the 'causal relation' qua entailment between two events. To illustrate, take the events, A, B, C, and F and suppose that B occurs between A and C. Williams thinks that, F instead of B might have occurred between A and C, [and when we say this] we mean that the nature of A and the nature of C and the fact that there is something between them (with all the rest of the universe thrown in, if you like) no more entail that the lewis, williams, and the history of metaphysics 7 something is B than it is F, and quite conceivably they might not even make the one any more probable than the other. (1953c: 125, n. 2) The manifold and how its parts are related are contingent and thus independent of each other. There are no necessary connections between distinct existents of the manifold, nor do they realize irreducible causal powers. For, as Williams says, '... it does not matter how thick or how thin we slice the world bologna-every slice remains logically independent of every other' (1953c: 124–25, n. 2); '[c]ausation is at most regular sequence, but also it is at least regular sequence' (Williams 1953c: 121). Admittedly, for this argument to work we need to accept Williams's actualism. Ushenko would probably reject it given his view of causation. So there appears to be some question-begging going on in this debate. However, Williams interprets the issue to be about what view of causation follows from our best metaphysics. Williams thinks his actualism is more likely to be true because 'it is a scheme of analysis and construction on a deeper level, and better certified, than any particular hypothesis, so close under the wing of logic and so integral to science that only the sharpest criticism and most monumental counter-construction could turn the scale in favor of a fundamentally opposed philosophy' (Williams 1953c: 122). Thus, Williams's argument is that since his actualism is most likely true and Ushenko's view of causation is incompatible with it, Ushenko's view of causation must be rejected. Williams's actualism and his denial of necessary connections between mereologically distinct entities bear a striking similarity to Lewis's starting point in metaphysics: Humean supervenience is named in honor of the greater denier of necessary connections. It is the doctrine that all there is to the world is a vast mosaic of local matters of fact, just one little thing after another. (But it is no part of the thesis that these local matters are mental.) We have geometry: a system of external relations of spatiotemporal distance between points. Maybe points of spacetime itself, maybe point-sized bits of matter or aether or fields or both. And at those points we have local qualities: perfectly natural intrinsic properties which need nothing bigger than a point at which to be instantiated. For short: we have an arrangement of qualities. And that is all. There is no difference without difference in the arrangement of qualities. All else supervenes on that. (Lewis 1986c: ix–x) For Lewis, there is nothing more to the actual world than a multitude of particulars with qualities or properties spread out in space-time. Each particular stands in a spatiotemporal relation to every other particular; hence they form a system of 'relations of spatiotemporal distance'. Each particular can be recombined in various ways to yield different arrangements of qualities. If A and B contingently exist and are mereologically distinct, there are no necessary connections between A and B. They can be recombined in various ways by standing in differing spatiotemporal and mereological relations, and they can exist apart in distinct worlds (or at least their counterparts can). Humean supervenience provides the framework for a theory of causation and the laws of nature. On a rough Humean picture, causal relations are not necessary connections between events or existents. Similarly, laws of nature can be taken as mere regularities. However, on Lewis's view, things are a bit more complicated. Lewis adopted a counterfactual theory of causation (as early as 1960 during his undergraduate visit at Oxford) and the best-systems view of lawhood, which was inspired by F. P. Ramsey 8 a. r. j. fisher (Lewis 1973: 73–74). This is one respect in which Lewis articulates the Humean picture independent of Williams's actualism. The Humean denial entails the rejection, according to Lewis, of theories of the laws of nature that admit necessary connections. To illustrate, Armstrong defends the view that laws are to be understood as relations among universals. More precisely, he thinks that if the lawmaking relation, call it N, holds between universals, say, being F and being G, and being F occurs, then being G must of necessity occur. To be clear, lawmaking relations like N hold contingently between universals. But when they do hold, they hold necessarily (see Armstrong 1983). It is this necessary connection that Lewis objects to (Lewis 1983a: 365–66; 1986b: xii). Lewis's Humean denial of necessary connections does not stop there. It grounds his rejection of states of affairs (Lewis 1998), structural universals (Lewis 1986a), truthmaking (Lewis 2001: 611–12), magical ersatzism (Lewis 1986b: 179–82), and Armstrong's combinatorial theory of possibility (Lewis 1992). The Humean principle of insisting that entities must be modally free of each other is at the center of Lewis's metaphysics. The similarity in doctrine between Williams's actualism and Lewis's Humean supervenience is no accident. Lewis was influenced by Williams's actualism. This was the metaphysical view that he was instructed to master. Lewis was exposed to this Humean-inspired metaphysical picture in several courses at Harvard. Given Lewis's Humean inclinations, which most likely came from his time at Oxford as a visiting student, he naturally absorbed Williams's insights into his own metaphysics. Lewis acknowledges his intellectual debt to Williams in a letter to T. L. S. Sprigge in which Lewis is discussing Aristotle. Lewis confesses that he has 'little knowledge of the ancients' but goes on to mention that: 'I owe a great deal to my study of metaphysics with D. C. Williams, and I wish it had been with him rather than with certain of his colleagues that I had tried to study the ancients' (Letter to T. L. S. Sprigge, 25 February 1994). This admission by Lewis also shows us how much Lewis looked up to Williams as a teacher of metaphysics and of topics in the history of philosophy. Let us now consider the connection between Williams's and Lewis's views on the metaphysics of time. 3 Four-Dimensionalism and Time In his writings on time Williams defends what he calls the theory of the manifold or simply the (pure) manifold theory. According to the manifold theory, 'the universe consists, without residue, of the spread of events in space-time, . . . the fourdimensional fabric of juxtaposed actualities' (Williams 1951a: 458; 1966b: 290). Things are spread out in time just as much as they are spread out in space. They are four-dimensional solids. And '[since things] are four-dimensional solids, we may and often must distinguish temporal parts as well as spatial ones. We acknowledge, for example, the October 1959 span of, say, a horse's total being as well as the horse's neck for his life long' (Williams 1959[1986]: 3). That is, objects are composed of temporal parts and persist by having different temporal parts at different times. Call this view four-dimensionalism. Since objects or events are spread out in time as they are in space, it seems reasonable to think, says Williams, that the past, present, and future exist simpliciter. To be sure, '[f]uture events and past events are by no means present events, but in a clear and important sense they do exist, now and forever, as rounded lewis, williams, and the history of metaphysics 9 and definite articles of the world's furniture' (Williams 1951b: 282; 1966b: 262). Call this view eternalism. Sometimes the manifold theory is subsumed under actualism since, according to Williams's view, the world is a four-dimensional manifold of actual entities. At other times he identifies the manifold theory with actualism. Nothing hangs on this difference for present purposes. Like Williams, Lewis adopts four-dimensionalism and eternalism. There is a close similarity in their characterization of some of these doctrines. For instance, Williams says '[t]he world may be either a hodgepodge or some single sinuous time streams-or, perhaps we should say, time 'streaks'' (1966a: 32); in almost identical fashion Lewis says '[e]nduring things are timelike streaks' (1976: 145). A similarity in wording also occurs when they state their preferred account of change. Here is Williams: [Change is] qualitative alternation of a thing, for example, the turning of a leaf from green to red, [which] consists of a four-dimensional worm's having different qualities in different temporal parts, as a leaf may also be green in one spatial half and red in the other. (1966a: 11) Here is Lewis on change: Change is qualitative difference between different stages-different temporal parts-of some enduring thing, just as a "change" in scenery from east to west is a qualitative difference between the eastern and western spatial parts of the landscape. (1976: 145– 46) Also compare Lewis's passage with this quotation from Williams: Time "flows" only in the sense in which a line flows or a landscape "recedes into the west." That is, it is an ordered extension. And each of us proceeds through time only as a fence proceeds across a farm: that is, parts of our being, and the fence's, occupy successive instants and points, respectively. (Williams 1951a: 463; 1966b: 295) There is also a similarity in what they had to say about the possibility of time travel. In this case there is clear evidence from their correspondence that suggests Lewis was familiar with Williams's work on the subject. Williams and Lewis also had detailed discussions in conversations when the Lewises visited the Williamses. Williams's fascination with the metaphysics of time occupied a large chunk of his academic efforts throughout the 1960s while he was at Harvard and in California. There are only scant remarks about time travel in his published works on time from the 1950s, but his unpublished work includes several papers on the subject (DCW Papers, HUG(FP) 53.45, box 4, HUA). He presented 'The Metaphysical Mechanics of Time Travel' on 6 April 1960, 'Principles and Practices of Time Travel' on 8 March 1962 at Haverford College, 'The Nature of Time' read in June 1966 (this unpublished paper was on the reading list of Lewis's famous 'PHIL318' class at Princeton from 1985 onwards), 'The Shape of Time' in Claremont, CA, February 1968, and 'Critique of Logical and Theological Fatalism' on 24 January 1969 at UCLA (which Lewis attended4). Now, time travel in the sense that someone travels back in time or travels far into the future is said to be contradictory and therefore metaphysically impossible because one cannot be at a later time living at an earlier time. It is incoherent to say, so the ob- 4 Williams wrote a letter to David and Stephanie Lewis dated 31 January 1969 in which Williams runs through comments that Lewis made at the talk (DCW Papers, HUG(FP) 53.6, box 9, folder 1, HUA). 10 a. r. j. fisher jection goes, that in five minutes from now I will be walking through the Pleistocene, which existed at a time before now. Call this the dual temporal antinomy (for one proponent of this objection, see Taylor (1963[1992]: 73)). In 'The Myth of Passage' it appears Williams affirms the dual temporal antinomy and is therefore committed to saying that time travel is contradictory. For he thinks time travel is to be analyzed as, the banality that at each different moment we occupy a different moment from the one we occupied before, or the contradiction that at each different moment we occupy a different moment from the one which we are then occupying-that five minutes from now, for example, I may be a hundred years from now. (1951a: 463; 1966b: 296) But this is not his view, or at least he changed it by 1956. In the reprint of 'The Myth of Passage' he added that time travel is 'conceivable after all' and that according to the manifold theory 'it would consist of a man's life-pattern, and the pattern of any appliances he employed, running at an abnormal rate or on an abnormal heading across the manifold' (Williams 1956: 327; 1966b: 303). In 'The Nature of Time' Williams argues that on the manifold theory all travel through time is nothing more than 'the gross shape and the finer internal configuration of space-time worms or world lines' (1966a: 35). If Williams, say, travels back in time to the year 1766 to meet Molly Stark, then his personal time streak is at odds with the 'regular main time stream' in which ordinary individuals persist (Williams 1966a: 35). He continues, '[i]nternally our venturesome 'worm' must embody only twenty minutes' worth of occurrences in the stretch which extends through two hundred years of the main time stream' (1966a: 35–36). Williams solves the dual temporal antinomy, then, by drawing a distinction between internal processes of the time traveler and the main stream of four-dimensional reality. The twenty minute journey two hundred years into the past is spread out more thinly in the manifold whereby the internal processes of a time traveler, which seem to the traveler to be occurring at a normal rate, are actually taking much longer according to the main time stream. In July 1971 Lewis gave the Gavin David Young Lectures at the University of Adelaide on 'The Paradoxes of Time Travel'. In the paper that came to bear the same name as the lectures and was eventually published in 1976,5 Lewis argues that time travel is possible and attempts to solve a number of paradoxes that entail the impossibility of time travel. The ancestor of this paper was: 'Could a Time Traveler Change the Past?', first written about September 1970. In both versions Lewis addresses the dual temporal antinomy. Like Williams, Lewis introduces a distinction between personal and external time to solve this antinomy. The important development is that personal time is given a functional definition. Personal time for the time traveler is whatever occupies the role 'in the pattern of events that comprise the time traveler's life' (Lewis 1976: 146). Suppose it takes one hour for Williams (in his personal time) to travel back in external time to meet Molly Stark in 1766. Thus, in Lewis's view, if we utter in 1966 'Williams will be in the past', what we mean is that 'a stage of him is slightly later in his personal time, but much earlier in external time, than the stage of him that is present as we say the sentence' (Lewis 1976: 146). 5 Lewis intended to publish the lectures in a revised form as a 'semi-popular' book. But he realized in 1975 that the project was beginning to be swamped with other work he had on his plate. So in 1976 he published the original paper with revisions based on his 1971 lectures (Letter to Hugh Mellor from David Lewis, 2 December 1977). lewis, williams, and the history of metaphysics 11 Thus far, the difference between the conceptual apparatus of Williams's and Lewis's solution of the dual temporal antinomy is more or less minimal. But there are differences in what they think time travel amounts to. Following Putnam (1962: 666), Williams thinks the temporal parts of a time traveler must be spatiotemporally continuous. The abnormal stages of a time traveler into the past that 'run backward' under reversed entropy must be spatiotemporally continuous. A time traveler cannot be composed of spatiotemporally disconnected person-stages. One motivation for this restriction is that the idea of 'traveling' into the past or into the future involves some kind of 'journey' in the manifold. This journey will naturally consist of spatiotemporally continuous temporal parts. Thus, time travelers must have spatiotemporally continuous temporal parts. Lewis is more liberal in his understanding of time travel. It just is 'a discrepancy between time and time' (Lewis 1976: 145–46). He accepts the Putnam-like case as an instance of time travel but is open to cases where a time traveler has spatiotemporally disconnected person-stages (so long as there is causal dependence between the time traveler's person-stages). If time travelers can pop in and out of existence at scattered space-time regions of the manifold, then their temporal parts need not be spatiotemporally continuous. Let us move on to their disagreement about the sense in which time travelers can and cannot change the past. 4 Changing the Past and the Williams-Lewis Correspondence Consider Tim the time traveler who in 1971 travels back in time to kill Grandfather in 1921. If Tim goes back to 1921 and is ready and willing to shoot Grandfather, it seems he can do so. Tim has the ability, just like an ordinary person, say, Tom to kill Grandfather. But, it seems Tim cannot kill Grandfather. The year 1921 in which Grandfather existed is identical with the year 1921 to which Tim traveled back, and the momentary events that make up 1921 have already occurred with Grandfather surviving timelessly (although not fatalistically). Tim cannot change the past from what it was originally, nor can anyone 'change a present or future event from what it was originally to what it is after you change it' (Lewis 1976: 150). The fact that momentary events lack temporal parts entails that they are not subject to change. Of course, this is not to deny that you can change the present or future by changing the unactualized way they, that is, the present or future, 'would have been without some action of yours to the way they actually are' (Lewis 1976: 150). Therefore, although Tim doesn't kill Grandfather, he can 'because he has what it takes' and he cannot 'because it's logically impossible to change the past' (Lewis 1976: 150). Thus, a time traveler can and cannot change the past-a contradiction. Call this the changing the past antinomy. Williams thinks someone can affect the past 'in as much as any events which actually exist in the past may turn out to have been caused by things which a time traveler carried back from a later date' (Williams 1966a: 38). But, he thinks, it is a contradiction that a person may 'affect the past' in the sense that he changes the past, as if the year 1766 could happen once without interference from time travel and then happen over again with interference, that is, as if by some technical jiggerypokery 12 a. r. j. fisher I could bring it about that something which actually happened didn't happen, or that something which never in fact happened did happen. (1966a: 38, his italics) Indeed, for Williams, we have knowledge about certain facts of the manifold, namely, facts about what has occurred in the recent past. The manifold theory, as Lewis also thinks, timelessly includes the past events that it has. So, whatever impact time travelers may have enacted on the past has already been made. Williams writes, The only answer to that favorite query of the science fictioneer, what would happen if a time traveler went back and strangled his own grandfather, is, not that he couldn't do it, but simply that, since he himself exists, it is plain that he didn't do it, and therefore that he won't do it. (1966a: 39, his italics) Williams further thinks that if an agent does not perform an action at a particular time or at a particular location of the space-time manifold, then that agent cannot perform that action at that particular time or particular location of the space-time manifold. To use Williams's example, '[t]he man who 'can' but doesn't run a mile in four minutes, jolly well can't run a mile in those four minutes' (Letter to David Lewis, 13 April 1971, p. 2, his italics; DCW Papers, HUG(FP) 53.6, box 9, folder 3, HUA). So Tim could have killed Grandfather in 1921, but because he didn't do it in 1921, it follows that he can't in 1921. Lewis's solution is that the word 'can' shifts meaning given differing contexts that are fixed by differing sets of facts we consider with respect to whether or not Tim can kill Grandfather. Tim 'can' kill Grandfather relative to sets of facts that do not include the fact that Grandfather survived 1921. Tim 'cannot' kill Grandfather relative to sets of facts that do include the fact that Grandfather survived 1921 (Lewis 1976: 151). This contextualist account of 'can' explains how Tim can (in one sense) and cannot (in another) kill Grandfather. Lewis sent the ancestor of (Lewis 1976) to Williams sometime between December 1970 and April 1971. Having read Lewis's paper Williams objects to Lewis's contextualist account as follows: There does seem to be such a lax and relational use of "can" as you describe but I can't believe it is as all-fired lax as you stipulate; it doesn't permit us to say that x 'can' do a if we can cite the presence of just some favorable conditions for doing a; they must be of a sort which we have reason to believe to be crucial and sufficient in the prevailing situation on a stipulated occasion. (Letter to David Lewis, 13 & 28 April 1971, p. 2, his italics; DCW Papers, HUG(FP) 53.6, box 9, folder 3, HUA) Williams's idea is that we are not entitled to bracket the fact that Grandfather survived when evaluating whether or not Tim is able to kill Grandfather. Grandfather's survival is crucial to the situation as stipulated in the case of Tim's traveling back to the past. Moreover, we know (and so does Tim) that Tim didn't kill Grandfather as stipulated in the situation. We must include this fact in the set of facts relative to whether Tim can or cannot kill Grandfather. Williams concludes that it is: more accurate to describe Tim's situation by saying that although in relation to his preparations to kill his grandpa, which in the usual sorts of circumstances are usually effective, so that ceteris paribus it would be highly probable not just that he can but that he will succeed, there are other data, specifically the observations that convince us, and him, that grandpa flourished until a much later date, which make it virtually certain that he does not polish off that personage. (Letter to David Lewis, 13 & 28 April 1971, pp. 2–3; DCW Papers, HUG(FP) 53.6, box 9, folder 3, HUA) lewis, williams, and the history of metaphysics 13 In reply Lewis says: 'You say "the man who 'can' but doesn't run a mile in four minutes jolly well can't run a mile in those four minutes"; and in general, failure to do something is decisive reason to conclude that ability was lacking' (Letter to Donald Williams, 12 May 1971, p. 3, his italics; DCW Papers, HUG(FP) 53.6, box 9, folder 3, HUA). However, Lewis argues, our ordinary concept of what it is to be able to do something is not captured by the fact that if person x fails to do a it is because x lacks the ability to do a. Lewis fails to type on his typewriter while sleeping, but surely it does not follow that Lewis lacks the ability to type. He continues, I would suppose that Tim's failure is explicable; and explicable not just by appeal to the fact that Grandfather lived on, but explicable in some commonplace way, just like Tom's parallel failure. But I would not infer from this that Tim lacked the ability to succeed. Similarly, if I hit the wrong key, I presume my failure to type correctly is explicable, but I don't think it follows that whatever prevented me from typing correctly did so by momentarily depriving me of my ability to type. (Letter to Donald Williams, 12 May 1971, p. 3; DCW Papers, HUG(FP) 53.6, box 9, folder 3, HUA) Lewis wants an explanation of Tim's ability to kill Grandfather to be equally applicable to persons who aren't time travelers. He has two reasons for this. One is metaphysical, and the other is methodological. The metaphysical reason is that Tim and Tom's failure to change the past is due to the fact that momentary events in virtue of lacking temporal parts cannot be changed. Hence, none of us, regardless of how we travel through time, can change the past in the same way. The methodological reason is that, according to Lewis, our common concept of 'what it takes for someone to be able to do something' should apply to all persons. The latter reason stems from Lewis's project of providing conceptual analyses of the content of ordinary thought and language. Williams objects in his final letter that appealing to the fact that momentary events lack temporal parts and because of this cannot be changed is irrelevant to Tim's specific failure. Williams writes, [Tim] is just as unable to change those events in grandpa's life which do have temporal parts as to change those (instantaneous) ones which don't have temporal parts. Your central contribution is that there is a sense in which Tim can kill grandpa and a sense in which he 'can't'; it does seem relevant that change, including killings, requires temporal parts; and yet I can't see how it is relevant to either Tim's ability or his inability. (Letter to David Lewis, 8 June 1971, p. 2, his italics; DCW Papers, HUG (FP) 53.6, box 9, folder 3, HUA) It is irrelevant, Williams thinks, to say that Tim cannot kill Grandfather in virtue of the fact that momentary events lack temporal parts. All that is needed is the claim that the year 1921 that Tim travels to is identical with the original year 1921 and not an assumption involving the four-dimensionalist account of change. The fact that Tim cannot change the past is better explained, according to Williams, by the fact that either Tim did or didn't kill Grandfather in conjunction with the fact that the events pertaining to Grandfather are timelessly embedded in the four-dimensional manifold (although he thinks this does not entail fatalism). It is wrong-headed, Williams thinks, to reduce Tim's inability to Tom's inability because this undermines what is metaphysically strange about Tim. 14 a. r. j. fisher Whatever we are to make of their dispute, it is obvious that much of Lewis's interest in the topic comes from his familiarity with Williams's work on the metaphysics of time. We can infer this from the fact that they discussed fatalism and other issues in the metaphysics of time in person and in correspondence. Why else would Lewis send a typescript copy of his paper to Williams? Lewis was sympathetic to Williams's general metaphysical view and developed his own account of time travel within the spirit of Williams's Humean-cum-four-dimensionalist metaphysic. Their main dispute regarding time travel is relegated to in-house details about how to properly explain antinomies of time travel. 5 Conclusion I have argued that Williams was an important influence on Lewis's Humean metaphysics and philosophy of time. You might object that the manifold theory, fourdimensionalism, and eternalism were present in the work of Quine and Goodman, and given that Lewis embraced extensionalism and Quine's criterion of ontological commitment, Lewis is indebted to Quine and Goodman regarding these metaphysical ideas and not Williams. It seems, the objection concludes, that Lewis was quite distant from Williams, and so Williams was not a major influence on Lewis. In reply, I reiterate my main thesis: Lewis was influenced in part by Williams. I do not contend that Williams was the sole influence on Lewis or that Lewis got all his metaphysics from Williams. Lewis was influenced by Quine and Goodman with respect to four-dimensionalism, but it does not follow that Quine and Goodman were the only influences on Lewis in this respect. It is clearly possible that Williams was also an influence on Lewis. Indeed, Williams was probably more of an influence here. In Word and Object Quine gives very short remarks about objects being composed of temporal parts (Quine 1960: 171) and does not even mention the four-dimensionalist account of change. Quine is mostly concerned with the reducibility of tense statements to tense-less statements in a 'canonical notation'. By contrast, Williams is not concerned with constructing a canonical notation that is meant to be indistinguishable from, as Quine puts it, 'a limning of the most general traits of reality' (1960: 161). Williams thinks we can theorize (within the framework of 'inference to the best explanation') about the nature of entities without having to theorize about language first. Lewis seems to fall more on the side of Williams here than that of Quine. Moreover, I doubt that Lewis inherited his Humean metaphysic mostly from Quine or Goodman. The Humean mosaic is most vivid in Williams's fundamental ontology and something that Lewis would have naturally picked up on from Williams given Lewis's Humean inclinations. It is true that Quine's criterion of ontological commitment, Goodman's Structure of Appearance, and their nominalism were important in the formation of Lewis's conception of ontology and his theory of properties. My main thesis does not conflict with this fact. Also, recall that Williams's actualism, like Lewis's Humean supervenience, is explicitly neutral toward specific theories of properties. In Lewis's 1991 acceptance speech for the Behrman Award he tells us in a biographical tone of his intellectual debts: lewis, williams, and the history of metaphysics 15 I suppose my historical ancestors are, above all, Leibniz and Hume (unless certain revisionists are right about Hume's teachings, in which case my real ancestors are the inventors of a fictitious Hume). And more recently Mill, Ramsey, the metaphysician Carnap (not to be confused with the anti-metaphysician Carnap, who is better known), and Quine. (Acceptance Speech for the Howard T. Behrman Award, 11 May 1991, p. 3) But then he says: Among my teachers, besides Quine, I think the one who did most to shape me was Donald Williams. When I reached graduate school a fellow student (now my colleague here) soon told me what was what: I had nothing to learn from doddering Donald, but I would flunk the metaphysics prelim if I didn't waste my time on his out-of-date course. Well, I didn't take the course, I did flunk the prelim, and I flunked it again the next year. All my own silly fault: the trouble, both years, was that I spent three quarters of my time on one quarter of the exam. But I did think it might be prudent to take Williams's course. It was fascinating in its own strange way, but it didn't much connect with any other philosophy I knew. So I went on more or less as before. Twenty years later I looked at my old lecture notes. And there I found all the same questions that had gradually come to the center of my attention since. What's more, I was thinking about them in very much the terms Williams had taught me. What's more, his own position on them looked to be one of the front runners, at the very least. (Acceptance Speech for the Howard T. Behrman Award, 11 May 1991, p. 4) Lewis's biographical remark suggests that Williams's influence on him was subconscious or unconscious, as if he wasn't aware of what Williams taught him or of Williams's work until the 1980s. But this is, if anything, a partial explanation of what is going on here since it is not the case that Lewis only subconsciously or unconsciously adopted or worked within the spirit of Williams's general metaphysics. I have shown clear instances of Lewis from the 1960s and early 1970s consciously reading, studying, and interacting with Williams as well as mentioning to others that he was sympathetic toward Williams's project. Lewis is right to note that Williams's focus in metaphysics was outdated. Williams thought philosophers like C. J. Ducasse and Santayana ought to be studied and recognized at a time when these figures were almost never read and/or no one had the patience for grand cosmological visions of reality. To illustrate, Lewis writes to Paul Fitzgerald: 'Donald Williams says the token-reflexive analysis of "actual" occurs in E. B. Holt; I couldn't find it there, but couldn't stand to search for very long. It is in [Arthur] Prior (Theoria XXXIV, 3 (1968), p. 191)' (Letter to Paul Fitzgerald, 30 June 1969, p. 2). In his discussion of the indexical account of actuality with Lewis, we can see Williams, even as late as the 1960s, looking back to the metaphysics of the early twentieth century. Now the indexical account of 'actual' could well be in or extracted from Holt's metaphysics. But even so, that's not where Lewis got the idea. This pattern probably occurred in other places. But it does not undermine the fact that Williams was exploring the same problems as contemporary metaphysicians. To be fair, Williams did take Goodman's work seriously and assigned certain articles by Quine in his seminars. It is just that Williams had one foot in the past that made him appear out of touch with those around him. Williams's attitude in the 1960s seems to reflect this situation. In his comments on Lewis's PHIL157 term paper he ends with this question: 16 a. r. j. fisher 'Can it be that my apprehensiveness is merely that of the idle metaphysical sportsman who resents modernized methods which threaten to deplete the game supply?' (Comments on David Lewis's 'How to Establish the Identity Theory', 1 May 1965, p. 3). Even so, Williams continued to react to current metaphysics late in his life. In his Notre Dame lecture, 'The Bugbear of Fate', Williams rejects Lewis's modal realism as found in Lewis's Counterfactuals (1973) on the grounds that possible worlds do not provide a plausible explanation of counterfactuals, unrestricted combinations of possible worlds lead to set-theoretic-like paradoxes, and modal realism provides no motivation not to realize evil in this world (Lecture 2, pages marked '206–9'; DCW Papers, HUG(FP) 53.45, box 8, folder: 'Fate Notre Dame Lecture 2', HUA). All of these objections were later repeated in the literature by others, and Lewis replied to them in On the Plurality of Worlds (see Lewis 1986b: ch. 2). Lewis actually quotes Williams's 1974 Notre Dame lectures when discussing the objection that modal realism makes us indifferent to the evils in our world (Lewis 1986b: 123, n. 6). To Lewis's credit he saw the importance of Williams's work and partly as a result Williams's legacy lives on. The history of analytic metaphysics exhibits far more continuity of genuine metaphysics than is officially acknowledged. Williams held the metaphysics flag high during the height of positivism and linguisticism in the middle of the twentieth century due to his belief that metaphysics was a legitimate enterprise, a belief he inherited from the previous generation of metaphysicians. Given that he was a profound influence on the formation of some of Lewis's metaphysical views and influenced other major philosophers of the latter half of the twentieth century, we can rightfully conclude that Williams played a vital role in the development and revival of metaphysics in the late twentieth century. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Thanks to Helen Beebee, Keith Campbell, Peter Forrest, Katherine Hawley, John Heil, Fraser Macbride, Kris McDaniel, Hugh Mellor, Michaelis Michael, Daniel Nolan, and Jonathan Schaffer for comments and discussion. I am grateful to Harvard University Archives for permission to access material from the Donald Cary Williams Papers and to David C. Williams for permission to publish material by Williams. I further thank Steffi Lewis for permission to cite letters and unpublished material by David Lewis. And finally I thank the John Rylands Research Institute for research support and the British Academy for a Newton International Fellowship that facilitated some of this research. References Adams, Robert Merrihew. (1974) 'Theories of Actuality'. Noûs, 8(3), 211–31. Alexander, Samuel. (1920) Space, Time, and Deity: The Gifford Lectures at Glasgow 1916– 1918. London: Macmillan. Armstrong, D. M. (1983) What is a Law of Nature? Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. -. (1993) 'Reply to Forrest'. In J. Bacon, K. Campbell, and L. Reinhardt (eds.), Ontology, Causality and Mind (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), pp. 65–72. Brandt, Richard B. (1957) 'The Languages of Realism and Nominalism'. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 17(4), 516–35. Broad, C. D. (1933) Examination of McTaggart's Philosophy. Vol. 1. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Campbell, Keith. (1990) Abstract Particulars. Oxford: Blackwell. lewis, williams, and the history of metaphysics 17 Glock, Hans-Johann. (2008) What is Analytic Philosophy? Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Goodman, Nelson. (1951) The Structure of Appearance. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Heil, John. (2012) The Universe As We Find It. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Holt, Edwin B., et al. (1912) The New Realism: Cooperative Studies in Philosophy. New York: Macmillan. Lewis, David. (1966) 'An Argument for the Identity Theory'. Journal of Philosophy, 63(1), 17–25. -. (1973) Counterfactuals. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. -. (1976) 'The Paradoxes of Time Travel'. American Philosophical Quarterly, 13(2), 145–52. -. (1983a) 'New Work for a Theory of Universals'. Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 61(4), 343–77. -. (1983b) Philosophical Papers. Vol. 1. New York: Oxford University Press. -. (1986a) 'Against Structural Universals'. Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 64(1), 25–46. -. (1986b) On the Plurality of Worlds. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. -. (1986c) Philosophical Papers. Vol. 2. Oxford: Oxford University Press. -. (1990) 'Noneism or Allism?'. Mind, 99(393), 23–31. -. (1991) Parts of Classes. Cambridge, MA: B. Blackwell. -. (1992) 'Armstrong on Combinatorial Possibility'. Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 70(2), 211–24. -. (1994) 'Humean Supervenience Debugged'. Mind, 103(412), 473–90. -. (1998) 'A World of Truthmakers?'. Times Literary Supplement, 4950, 30–33. -. (2001) 'Truthmaking and Difference-Making'. Noûs, 35(4), 602–15. Macbride, Fraser. (2014) 'How Hochberg Helped Us Take the Ontological Turn'. Dialectica, 68(2), 163–69. Maurin, Anna-Sofin. (2002) If Tropes. Dordrecht: Kluwer. Miller, Kristie. (2005) 'Blocking the Path from Vagueness to Four Dimensionalism'. Ratio, 18(3), 317–31. Nolan, Daniel. (2007) 'Contemporary Metaphysicians and Their Traditions'. Philosophical Topics, 35(1/2), 1–18. Putnam, Hilary. (1962) 'It Ain't Necessarily So'. Journal of Philosophy, 59(22), 658–71. Quine, W. V. (1960) Word and Object. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Schneider, Christina. (2002) 'Relational Tropes: A Holistic Definition'. Metaphysica, 3(2), 97– 112. Soames, Scott. (2003) Philosophical Analysis in the Twentieth Century. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Strawson, P. F. (1959) Individuals: An Essay in Descriptive Metaphysics. London: Methuen. Taylor, Richard. (1963[1992]) Metaphysics Fourth Edition. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall. Trettin, Kathe. (2000) 'Tropes and Things'. In J. Faye, U. Scheffler, and M. Urchs (eds.), Things, Facts and Events (Amsterdam: Rodopi), pp. 279–303. Ushenko, A. P. (1953) 'The Principles of Causality'. Journal of Philosophy, 50(4), 85–101. Williams, Donald C. (1930) 'The Definition of Yellow and Good'. Journal of Philosophy, 27(19), 515–27. -. (1931) 'The Nature of Universals and of Abstractions'. The Monist, 41(4), 583–93. -. (1934a) 'The Argument for Realism'. The Monist, 44(2), 186–209. -. (1934b) 'Truth, Error and the Location of the Datum'. Journal of Philosophy, 31(16), 428–38. -. (1937/1938) 'The Realistic Interpretation of Scientific Sentences'. Erkenntis, 7(1), 169–78. -. (1938) 'The Nature and Variety of the A Priori'. Analysis, 5(6), 85–94. -. (1944) 'Naturalism and the Nature of Things'. Philosophical Review, 53(5), 417–43. -. (1946) 'Scientific Evidence and Action Patterns: Rejoinder to Professor Black'. Philosophical Review, 55(5), 580–86. 18 a. r. j. fisher -. (1947) The Ground of Induction. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. -. (1951a) 'The Myth of Passage'. Journal of Philosophy, 48(15), 457–71. -. (1951b) 'The Sea Fight Tomorrow'. In P. Henle, H. M. Kallen, and S. K. Langer (eds.), Structure, Method and Meaning (New York: Liberal Arts Press), pp. 282–306. -. (1953a) 'On the Elements of Being: I'. Review of Metaphysics, 7(1), 3–18. -. (1953b) 'On the Elements of Being: II'. Review of Metaphysics, 7(2), 171–92. -. (1953c) 'Remarks on Causation and Compulsion'. Journal of Philosophy, 50(4), 120–24. -. (1956) 'The Myth of Passage'. In S. Hook (ed.), American Philosophers at Work: The Philosophic Scene in the United States (New York: Criterion Books), pp. 315–31. -. (1959a) 'Mind as a Matter of Fact'. Review of Metaphysics, 13(2), 203–25. -. (1959b) 'Philosophy and Psychoanalysis'. In S. Hook (ed.), Psychoanalysis, Scientific Method, and Philosophy (New York: New York University Press), pp. 157–79. -. (1959[1986]) 'Universals and Existents'. Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 64(1), 1–14. -. (1963) 'Necessary Facts'. Review of Metaphysics, 16(4), 601–26. -. (1966a) 'The Nature of Time'. Unpublished, Harvard University Archives, pp. 1–40. -. (1966b) Principles of Empirical Realism: Philosophical Essays. Springfield, IL: Charles C. Thomas.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Justification of Animal Rights Claim Golam Azam 1 Abstract: The objective of the paper is to justify the claim for animals‟ rights. For years, it is one of the most debated questions in the field of applied ethics whether animals‟ have rights or not. There are a number of philosophers who hold that animals are neither moral agent nor rational being and hence animals have no rights because the concept of rights is applicable only to the rational beings. On the other hand the proponents of animals‟ rights contend that the standard for having rights is not active rationality but sentience and animals have sentience as they feel pain. So they are also subject to have rights. The main questions to be justified in this essay are, what is it to say that animals have rights? Can animals have any rights at all, if yes, how far? Is it the moral obligation of the human being to ensure animals rights? Considering the questions, in this essay, it will be shown that animals have limited rights and not all animals are subject to having the same rights. It depends on the proportion of their having capacity and capability for the same. It will be tried to make a consensus between the two groups by the way that there are some aspects where we are to acknowledge the rights of animal. It will be shown that not all animals are subject to equal rights. Introduction The discussion on animal rights or our duties towards animals is not a new one. Thomas Aquinas of 13 th century talks about human concern regarding animals. Many philosophers including Bentham and Kant, scientists, ethicists pay their rational attention on the issue. The main issues in the field of animals‟ rights are whether we have moral duties towards animals, and that it is their rights to receive reasonable behavior from human being. Admitting the notion that animals have rights, a movement called „animal rights movement‟ is introduced and due to the continuous pressure from 1 Assistant Professor, Department of Philosophy, University of Dhaka Philosophy and Progress, January-June, JulyDecember 2007 140 this group some countries formulated laws to preserve animals‟ rights. In this paper it will be tried to justify that firstly, animal may have rights though not equal to human being; secondly that not all animals are subject to rights, only few animals are subject to rights and though animals‟ have rights, it is not their direct rights but indirect. Here „rights‟ means not legal rights but moral rights. Whenever someone tells that „A‟ has moral rights, he has to admit that this „A‟ has moral status. The concept of moral status, moral agency and moral rights are interconnected. In this paper, it will be argued that some animals deserve moral rights to human beings. In the succeeding sections the arguments against animals‟ rights claim and the arguments for animals‟ rights claim will be discussed and then the main hypothesis of the paper will be analyzed with proper argumentation. Arguments against Animals' Rights Claim A number of arguments have been presented by philosophers arguing that animals do not have either moral or legal rights. Most of the arguments are based on the assumption that as animals are not moral agent hence they can‟t have moral status. And without having moral status animals cannot claim for moral rights. The major arguments supporting the statements have been discussed below. Some philosophers say that animals have no rights such as David S Oderbrg. He says that having rights depends upon the way the creature itself is, not on what kind of relationship it enters into. ... it is a necessary consequence of having rights that a being has linguistic capacity as well as self-consciousness, but again having rights is not grounded in linguistic capacity (2004). He maintains that to have rights is to possess knowledge and freedom. But no animal has these two qualities. Animals are not governed by their own knowledge as they are not rational. Animals are governed purely by instinct; neither by knowledge i.e. knowledge of itself nor by freedom i.e. no animal is free to live in one way or another. Therefore animals have no rights. 141 Justifications of Animal Rights Claim There are also a group of thinkers who are skeptic about animals‟ rights. They say that animals cannot have rights because they lack the rational capacity to enter into reciprocal relations with other rational animals. Basically the contractualists propagate this view in objection form. They say that moral rights stand on some agreement that will ensure the interest of the both sides. Since human beings are rational animals it can be expected that they can ensure welfare to the animals, if they wish. But in respect of animals we cannot have the guarantee that animals will certainly behave for the interest of human being. In this connection Elizabeth Anderson presents an analogical argument (2004). She states from „argument from marginal cases‟ and shows that some animals have the capacities like the marginal human beings, hence at least those animals must have the same rights as marginal human beings. She also contends that there are also some animals who have the sense of reciprocity e.g. trained horse and dogs. So it is not the fact that animals (not all) don‟t possess the sense of reciprocity in them. It is sometimes claimed that animals should have equal rights to human beings. But the opponents of animals‟ rights claim refuted this demand. They hold that human beings are superior to animals. It is because human beings possess the features (qualities/characteristics) necessary for having moral status. Moreover human beings have rationality, sociability, flourishing capacity, capacity of understanding good and bad, of decision making, of reciprocity and so. But animals don‟t have such quality. Therefore the claim that animals and human beings have equal rights is not plausible. Robert Garner (2005) in respond to the objection of equal rights of animal says, „what moral equality does mean in this context is that we have to treat morally relevant animal and human interests in the same way, so that, for instance we should not entertain the idea of inflicting pain on an animal if we are not prepared to consider inflicting the same degree of pain on a human (P-44). So the demand of equal rights for animal in proportion to human beings is not analogical to the equal rights between two human beings. It is a matter of human outlook towards animals. It means someone may not treat a street dog in the same way as he does to his pet. In the same line someone may treat his pet like his family member (in respect of responsibility and love Philosophy and Progress, January-June, JulyDecember 2007 142 towards the pet). But there are people who may not treat their pet in the same way. And they don‟t think it as an offence. There is interconnectedness among the concepts of moral agency, moral status and moral rights. Moral agency is the precondition for moral status and moral status is the pre-condition for moral rights. Some philosophers hold personhood as a necessary condition for a moral agent to have full moral status. As Kant says that personhood consists in rational moral agency. He divided moral status into two groups; simple moral status and full moral status. In order to be considered for simple moral status something/someone should be moral agent and it‟s the necessary condition for a being in order to be considered for moral status. He also contends moral agency as both necessary and sufficient condition for the consideration of moral status of a being. Personhood is necessarily important for moral agency. Now animals do not possess personhood in themselves, so they are not moral agent and hence they are not subject of moral rights. The term person is a problematic term in philosophy because in philosophy the concept „personhood‟ has cognitive, metaphysical and also moral content. It is safe, I think , to consider the personhood , in this respect from the moral point of view. Tooley accepted this position. He (1972) characterized the term personhood as having ethical content, denoting full moral status, not descriptive content. A creature is a moral person i.e. has moral content if a) it is capable of making moral judgments about the rightness and wrongness of an action and b) it has motives that can be judged morally. According to Warren (2005), the claim that something is a person implies that it has a strong moral status, but not that it has any empirically observable property, such as life, sentience, or rationality. Warren also says that moral agency is the sufficient not necessary condition for moral status but Regan Tom, on the other hand, holds a totally different view. He says that subjects-of –a-life have moral status, and that all of them have the same moral status, thus have the same moral rights; both humans and others. Pluhar also tries to show that not all animals lack personhood. It is because zoologists assume that some animals like great apes, dolphins, and other animal like pets have some degree of capability and rationality. The basic point is that if it is possible to show that 143 Justifications of Animal Rights Claim animals are persons then they have moral rights otherwise they do not. But before that from the point of logic it is to be confirmed that personhood is the necessary and sufficient condition for moral status. As moral rights concerns, I may cite the view of Carl Cohen. He says, a right is a claim that one party can validly exercise against another and that claiming occurs only within a community. He argues that "rights are necessarily human; their possessors are person" with the ability to make moral judgments and exercise moral claims. Animal cannot have rights because they lack these abilities (1986). From this Beauchamp concludes that they (animals) lack moral personhood. As there is a long debate over the issue I think until it is not settled whether animals have full moral status, we can hold that some animals have minimum moral status which is enough for them to have minimum moral rights. Main Arguments for Animals' Rights Claim Several arguments are also propagated to show that animals are subject to moral rights. Most of the arguments have minimum rational basis though not widely accepted. The major arguments are discussed below. Some philosophers say that since animals have sentience, they are moral agent. Sentience is one of the most important criteria for claiming to have moral status. It makes animals different from material object and takes nearer to human beings. It is the condition of feeling pain or pleasure. Now a days it is uncontroversial that animals feel pain. As animal feel pain they have sentience. Therefore, they have moral status necessary for having moral rights. Peter Singer, the great proponent of animals rights claim says that sentiency is not only a necessary condition for having any moral status but is also a sufficient condition for having a moral status nearly equivalent to that possessed by humans (1975). Therefore as animals have sentience they are considerable for moral status. Animals also possess the other qualities necessary for moral status. The Nuffield council for Bioethics formulates well acceptable criteria for the moral status of animals. The criteria are Philosophy and Progress, January-June, JulyDecember 2007 144 sentience, higher cognitive capacities; the capacities to flourish; sociability and the possession of life. There are many animals which possess these qualities e.g. Apes, Chimpanzee. There are also some animals which possess two or three of these qualities. Therefore, one can deduce that animals have moral status which is a pre-condition to have moral rights. So animals cannot but have moral rights. Some animal rights claimers argue that if non rational human beings can have rights, both moral and legal, then the animals must have rights. There are so many human beings who are not rational in original sense. The infants, mentally disordered people are of this category. Although these people cannot exercise rationality, their moral rights is acknowledged. There are also human beings who don‟t have sentience e.g. those who are suffering from Parkinson‟s disease but their moral status and rights is committed. If these human beings are subject to moral rights then for the same reasons animals may also have moral status and rights. It is called argument from marginal cases. Most of the time, it is commonly argued that animals are inferior to human beings. But the proponents of animals‟ rights respond that to tell that animals are inferior to human being and therefore they don‟t have rights is to do speciesism. Speciesism like racism or sexism is the concept to favour a specific species. Peter Singer mentions in his Practical Ethics that human beings practice the concept of speciesism when they fail to uphold the rights of animals. Because he believes human beings use animals for their food, clothing, medical experiment and so due to a feeling of superiority over the animals (1993). But being conscious being we have to refrain ourselves from doing so. It is argued that animals have inherent values, and therefore they are subject to rights. Paul W Taylor (1986) in his Respect for NatureA Theory of Environmental Ethics, tries to show that animals and other elements including plants have inherent values and inherent worth. As a member of earth‟s ecosystem animals have inherent worth. From his analysis it may also be considered that animals have both intrinsic and inherent values as well as worth 145 Justifications of Animal Rights Claim as they are important elements of world ecosystem. According to Taylor, „The assertion that an entity has inherent worth is here to be understood as entailing two moral judgments: 1) that the entity deserves moral concern and consideration or, in other words, that it is to be regarded as a moral subject, and 2) all moral agents have prima facie duty to promote or preserve the entity‟s good as an end in itself and for the sake of the entity whose good is it.‟ (P-75) from Taylor‟s version it can be concluded that as animals have inherent worth they are the moral subjects and hence human beings have the duty to promote the good of animals and remove the pain persisting in them. Great apes are subject to rights. It is proved by some scientific observations that the great apes are by nature and quality very much nearer to human being. It is also asserted that if they are trained, they would behave like the human beings. On basis of such similarities with human beings it is claimed that the great apes must have moral rights. There is also another argument to establish the claim that animals have rights and it is called relationship argument for animal‟ rights. Sometimes it is hold that relationship determines the claim for rights. Animals are not directly related to human beings so they cannot claim rights. The view that animals are not related to human beings is not fully correct. Though not directly, they are related to us indirectly. We are in many ways dependent on animals. This dependence has made a close relation of animals with the human beings. Moreover there are some animals e.g. dogs, cats and domestic animals which are in some way the member of our community. Therefore from the relationship point of view they are subject to have rights. Critical analysis of the above discussion In this section a critical analysis of the arguments given both for and against the claim for animals‟ rights will take place. Philosophy and Progress, January-June, JulyDecember 2007 146 From the above discussion regarding animal rights, it cannot be avoided that animals‟ have rights. It is because they feel pain which indicates that they are sentient being. But the question is whether they have the equal rights as that of adult human being or human infant or non-rational human being (those who are adult but mentally disabled). There is also another aspect of the discussion that whether animals in general are subject to rights or only few types of animals are subject of rights and if it can be established that animals have rights then, the question arise how much rights can be claimed for them, are human being obliged to ensure that rights directly or indirectly. I think though animals have rights, it is not as much as human being, they have limited rights depending on the degree of capabilities. And not all animals are subject to rights, only those that are sentient, and so are subject to rights that are directly related to human community. In this respect, I would like to respect Warren‟s Multi-Criterial approach (1997, 2004). But it is assumed that animals, in general, are not subject to having rights as human beings are. It is argued that there are many animals that don‟t feel pain e.g. bloodless animals. Therefore, if it generally held that animals have rights then it will make puzzle whether the harming bacteria also has rights? Nuffield council for bioethics encompasses some criteria mentioned earlier to characterize animal as subject to moral agent. If any animal possesses these qualities then it should be considered as moral agent. And if it is moral agent then they are subject to having rights. Suppose the rights of cat and rat. Rats and cats cannot have the same rights. The first is not directly related to human being but the later is. Therefore the later has more rights that the rat. On the other hand dogs and Apes though both are sentient beings, both have mental capacities, the capacity to flourish, possesses life, and may be social; still they cannot claim the same rights. It is due to the degree of the qualities that they possess. Animals are used in scientific experimentation in plenty. It is thought that human being due to having supreme physical power use animals as much as they can. But a simple question arises, are animals used only for the human interest? I think not. It is because some experiments are also conducted to discover drugs for the 147 Justifications of Animal Rights Claim animals. Therefore, those experiments are for the wellbeing of the animals. Another point to which I want to focus is that human beings are superior to animals in all respects. Human being means adult rational human beings. Animals cannot claim for themselves. It is the duty of the human beings to be kind to them. Because, they are the members of our community, though inferior, and we, the human beings, are dependent on them for many of our needs. Therefore, it is our moral duty to be benevolent towards them. Animals have rights but not as like as human being or human infant. I believe it because human infant has a possibility to become a sound rational being. By „sound rational being‟ I mean being having the capacity to think, to judge, to analyse and to make decision. But animal whether it is the great apes or any other don‟t have that potentiality. Decision procedure capability, though not present equally to every human being primarily, but if nursed carefully the capacity can be flourished. But in respect of the animals it can hardly be expected. In respect of the objection regarding equal rights for the mentally disabled persons I want to cite the argument of Warren where she says that human being should acknowledge it from the feelings of empathy and selfinterest. Self-interest means both the interest of the individual and the community. As human beings have vulnerability to become mentally disabled, it is the duty of the community to support the mentally disabled so that both the disabled and potential to be disabled may have same nursing in the same circumstance. There is also a factor of reciprocity. Though human being can think of the rights of animals, animals cannot do so towards human beings. As Warren (1997) says, "... we cannot hope that they in turn will respect our rights, making possible the peaceful resolution of any conflicts that arise between their needs and important human or ecological needs.‟‟(P-225) The proponents of animals‟ rights hold that there is an act of reciprocity between animals and human beings. As animals supply human beings their meat, and so, it is the moral responsibility of the human beings to acknowledge their rights and to ensure that. In this case I think it is not the fact in real Philosophy and Progress, January-June, JulyDecember 2007 148 sense. It is because, it is a kind of unequal reciprocity. Because human beings can help them, save them from danger, think for their better shelter and treat them in better way but can the animal do these for the human being? There is a qualitative difference. And where there is a qualitative difference, there must be difference in output. Some animals‟ rights proponents suggest avoiding eating animals, not to use them in unnecessary scientific experimentation. In this respect I want to say, when they say „unnecessary experimentation‟, they don‟t make clear what they mean by unnecessary experimentation. Whether it is necessary or not, can only be determined by the experimenter. And suppose an experimenter fails to discover his targeted result. Shall we tell that it is an unnecessary experimentation? We should say, certainly not. Because if it can be judged previously that the experiment cannot but be successful, then there need not be any experiment at all. Experiment means the possibility of success and failure. Moreover, for the acute result sometimes it becomes difficult to save the animal from plenty of experiment. In case of refraining from eating meat, suppose every one becomes vegetarian. What will happen? The rate of production of animal is several times higher than human beings. So the world will become the kingdom of animals. So it is not, as I think, fair to leave eating animal meat. What human being can do towards animals is that they should let the animal to have the least sufferings when they kill them. I think that animals may have indirect rights towards human beings. I think it because right is determined by relationship and this relationship may be either direct or indirect. For example I have two neighbours of whom one is my son and the other is someone else. If both of them become sick, it becomes my direct responsibility to help my son because he is directly related to me. Though animals are the members of our ecology they are not directly connected to human being as one human being is connected with other. Animals and human beings are interconnected and the range of rights can be formulated on basis of the degree of interconnectedness between these two species. Human beings are connected with animal by way of dependence. They are dependent 149 Justifications of Animal Rights Claim for their food, clothing and so but they cannot exchange their view, their thought, their feelings, etc with the animal. Therefore, animals may have indirect rights towards human being such as to be kind to them, to be conscious of their sufferings and so on. For Kant, Our duties towards animals are merely indirect duties to humanity; animal nature has analogies to human nature, and by doing our duties to animals in respect of manifestation of human nature we indirectly do our duties to humanity. 2 I think it is human instinct to help other animals. I can cite a real example in this regard. One day in rainy reason, it was raining in the outside with thunder. A bull was kept in the outside and it was getting frightened. A boy named Ali who did not like the bull and got frightened every time he saw the bull, observed the situation and went out of the house and kept the bull in the firm. This is the attitude of human being that can be called the rights of the animal, the indirect rights, indirect in the sense that human beings are not bound to do it. I think the animal in the example deserves the attitude that has been done by Ali. All animals do not have the same capability as that of human beings. Some philosophers, namely Peter Singer, want to tell about the equality of the animal with human beings. For this he says about the pain that they get. That pain is equal. How can pain be equal? The structure of human skin and that of an animal is not same but obviously they get pain. It is tried to show that pain and sentient are causally connected. But it is not clear whether sentience is the cause of pain or pain is the cause of sentience. If any instance is found where it can be shown that pain and sentience are not necessarily connected, then the argument will be outweighed. Up to that we can 2 See Robert Garner. 2005. Animal Ethics, P-41 for a more considerable view. Philosophy and Progress, January-June, JulyDecember 2007 150 accept the hypothesis as per theory of corroboration of K. Popper 3 . I don‟t think that both human being and animal have the same degree of pain that they perceive. Human being may suffer from physical, mental etc. pain. Although there are exceptions, it is generally held that animals can experience only physical pain. It is because they don‟t possess mind. Moreover the quality of pain is also different. From Singer‟s hypothesis, if pain is the determiner of rights then the difference in getting pain will also create difference in respect of rights. But the antecedent of the argument i.e. the getting of equal pain of both human and animal does not stand, therefore, their equal rights claim also does not stand. Let alone difference between human beings and animals, in respect of between two human beings, there is a difference of feelings of pain. Therefore, pains experienced by animals and humans are not equal. So the concept of equal rights cannot be deduced from the concept of not-equal pain. One thing should be considered that in this world there is an eco-system i.e. a system of dependence upon one another. But it becomes problematic when we override the limit. I may have the rights to use the animal but how far and in what waythese are the questions. If the human beings become conscious of it then animals‟ rights can be established naturally. Warren considers that some animals have additional status derived from the inter-specific, ecological and transitivity of respect principle. On the first principle we have stronger moral obligations towards animals that are members of our mixed social communities; on the second principle, we have social obligations towards animals of species that are endangered by human activities and important for the eco-system; and on the third principle, we are obliged to respect the animals to that extent what is feasible and consistent with the sound moral principles. 3 K. Popper (1963) in his The Logic of Scientific Discovery explains this theory. According to this theory we can continue our support to the existing hypothesis until and unless we discover the better hypothesis. He exemplified the idea by uttering „all swans are white‟. He means we should acknowledge and support this assertion until we find any statement as true evidently either contrary or contradictory to the existing statement. 151 Justifications of Animal Rights Claim Conclusion From the above discussion it can be told that some animals may have moral rights as they have moral status of a certain extent. Not all animals have the same rights. It is determined as per capacity as they have. There is a degree of moral status among these animals. And this degree determines how much right do they have. Moreover, the rights that the animals can enjoy are not necessary but contingent. The contingency depends on the social and ecological circumstances. Strong moral rights can be accorded to those nonhuman animals that explore exceptional sensitivity and intelligence or whose species is endangered by the human activities while declining to ascribe the moral rights to all sentient animals or all animals that are subjects to lives. Philosophy and Progress, January-June, JulyDecember 2007 152 References . Aristotle, "Animals are not Political" in P.A.B Clarke & A. Linzey (ed.) Political Theory and Animal Rights, London, Pluto Press, 1990, 7-12 Auriana Ojeda (ed.) The Rights of Animals: Current Controversies, Greenhaven Press, USA, 2004, Bentham, J „Duty to Minimize Sufferings‟ in P.A.B Clarke & A. Linzey (ed.) Political Theory and Animal Rights, London, Pluto Press, 1990, pp.135-137 Cohen Carl, „The Case For the Animals in Research‟ in New England Journal of Medicine,1986, 865-870 Elizabeth Anderson, "Animal Rights and The Values of Non human Life" in C.R Sunstein & M.C Nussbaum, (ed.) Animal Rights: Current Debates and New Directions. Oxford University Press. 2004. pp277-298 Franklin, J.H, Animal Rights and Kant in Animal Rights and Moral Philosophy, Columbia University Press, USA, Garner, R , Animal Ethics, Polity Press, UK, 2005 Warren Mary Ann, Moral Status: Obligation to Persons and Other Living Things, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1997 Singer Peter, Practical Ethics, 2 nd Edition, Cambridge University Press, UK, 1995 Tom L. Beauchamp, "The Failure of Theories of Personhood" in Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal, John Hopkins University Press, USA 1999, 309-324 Taylor, Paul, Respect for NatureA Theory of Environmental Ethics, Princeton University Press, USA, 1986.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
ASHGATE PUBLISHING LTD Military Medical Ethics for the 21st Century Word files for proofing This is an edited Word file, which has been styled ready for typesetting. This is now the final opportunity to review your text and amend it prior to publication. Any queries about the text have been inserted using Comment boxes in the Word files. Please answer these queries in your corrections. Once you have responded to a query, you can delete the comment. When making your corrections, please consider the following: Make sure Track Changes is turned on – this allows us to keep an accurate file history record for the book. Please do not change the formatting styles used in this file – if a piece of text has been styled incorrectly, please alert your Editor about this by using a Comment box. To see the changes that have already been made, use the 'Final Showing Mark-up' view. To hide this and just see the final version, use the 'Final' view (in the Review tab). Edit and return this file, please do not copy/paste anything into a new document. Thank you for your co-operation. Chapter 3 Civilian Care in War: Lessons from Afghanistan Peter Olsthoorn and Myriame Bollen Introduction Military doctors and nurses, employees with a compound professional identity as they are neither purely soldiers nor simply doctors or nurses, face a „role conflict between the clinical professional duties to a patient and obligations, express or implied, real or perceived, to the interests of a third party such as an employer, an insurer, the state, or in this context, military command‟ (London et al. 2006). In the context of military medical ethics this is commonly called dual loyalty (or, less commonly, „mixed agency‟, see Howe 1986). Although other professionals in the military, for instance counsellors or lawyers, might experience similar problems of dual loyalties, it seems that the dual loyalties experienced by military medical personnel are particularly testing. In his article on dual loyalties of military medical personnel, medical ethicist Peter A. Clark, for instance, writes that: Military medical personnel, especially in a time of war, are faced with the most ethically difficult dual loyalty of doing what is in the best interest of their patient and doing what is in the best interest of their government and fellow soldiers. This conflict has existed for as long as we have fought wars. It is the most difficult because it is the state or the military exerting the pressure on the medical professional. (Clark 2006: 571) Clark‟s description of military doctors working in Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay contains by now familiar examples of this dual loyalty problem, as does, less well-known, the research into the functioning of Dutch military medical personnel in Afghanistan (Meerbach 2009; Bak 2010). What became especially evident from that latter research was that, although most military medical personnel were of the opinion that they could deal with moral dilemmas in a an adequate manner, the way they in fact dealt with the dilemma, for example, helping or not helping members of the local population with medication reserved for their own military personnel, differed very much from person to person. For instance, where one medical worker would bend the rules somewhat and use medical means earmarked for treating military personnel to help a local in need of medical attention, another would not. Yet both would be equally convinced that they had done the morally correct thing and would therefore feel no regrets afterwards. Although medical personnel that face dilemmas such as the ones described above are able to take a decision, and can provide arguments to account for it afterwards, the question is whether that is sufficient in cases like these. As said, the decision taken, and the arguments to defend it rendered afterwards, can vary greatly from person to person. To give an example: both the fact that means should be saved for their own military troops that might need them any moment, and the fact that helping locals could undermine the local health system, were brought forward as arguments contra helping. Others conversely argued that helping locals increased goodwill, and could thus lead to better information and more support from the local population which would, in turn lead to more security for the troops (Meerbach 2009). Although these two lines of reasoning seem to be of an opposite character, and lead to opposite conclusions, the arguments pro and contra helping locals have in common that they are rather self-serving. The question is how bad a thing that is. Most military colleagues of military medical personnel, considering military effectiveness most important, will think it is not. Their medical colleagues from the civilian world, with their own oaths and codes in mind, will probably beg to differ, holding that military medical personnel ought to act from a strictly impartial ethos. The next section will give a short overview of the military and the medical ethic, and of the resulting dual loyalty problem for medical personnel working in the military. The section after that deals with the question how these sometimes conflicting loyalties relate to being a professional, something medical personnel are the paradigmatic examples of, but also something military personnel claim to be. It is against that background that the two subsequent sections elaborate on the medical rules of eligibility used in Afghanistan, and on the policies concerning military involvement in local healthcare, to see what the existing rules and policies are, and whose interests they serve. Military and Medical Ethics: The Dual Loyalty Problem Now, most manifestations of the military ethic as well as the medical ethic are quite consistent as to whose interests are most important, though it seems that they point in different directions. For example, if we look at the Hippocratic oath, no doubt the best-known professional oath, we see that, although it comes in many varieties, the common denominator is that doctors should work in the interest of their patients. In general, there is no mention of parties outside the doctor-patient relationship, such as hospitals or governments. The military oath is different in this respect. Although it also comes in many forms, it as a rule stresses loyalty to a head of state („I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second, Her Heirs and Successors‟, UK Army and Marines), constitution („I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic‟, US Army), republic and people (Bundeswehr) or queen, laws and military law („I will obey to military regulations, uphold the law, and be faithful to the queen‟, Netherlands Armed Forces). The people at the receiving end (and today that would, for instance, be the local population in Iraq or Afghanistan) are not included. For military medical personnel the clear difference between the medical oath and the military oath, and the conflicting demands that can result from that, testifies to the fact that a doctor or nurse in the military serves in his capacity as a physician a different client to that in his role as a member of the armed forces. For non-medical military personnel the client, if we want to use that term, is the state or the people, not the local population in, for instance, Iraq or Afghanistan. For civilian medical personnel, on the other hand, it is manifest that it is the patient who is their client, and no one else. Similar to the difference between the military and the medical oath, the value lists of the different armed forces mainly mention values (such as courage, loyalty, discipline and obedience) that further military effectiveness and the interests of the soldiers themselves, their fellow soldiers and the military organization (Robinson 2007). The values of the medical profession, formulated by its professional organizations, give precedence to the patient and the doctor-patient relationship. They state, for example, that the practitioner should always work in the interests of the patient, refraining from prescribing treatment known to be harmful, and respecting the patient‟s dignity. Finally, if we look at codes of conduct, we see that military codes are often aimed at safeguarding military personnel against pestering, sexual intimidation or discrimination. These codes are thus mostly about regulating the conduct of soldiers towards each other, rather than their conduct towards those they are to protect. Codes of conduct for doctors, to the contrary, do emphasize the interests of third parties, namely the patients, as do those of, for instance, the police. In fact, practitioners of medicine have their own worldwide association, the World Medical Association, with its own International Code of Medical Ethics. That code goes into great detail about the duties of a physician to his or her patients but has little to say about duties towards colleagues. It specifies that „a physician shall owe his patients complete loyalty and all the resources of his science‟. Not surprisingly, attempts to adhere to these two different ethics, medical and military, can – and do – lead to conflicting loyalties in the case of doctors working for the armed forces. Military medical personnel can, for example, be put in a difficult position when their presence during unlawful interrogation is presented as in the interest of the detainee. Advising on the prisoner‟s physical limitations enables the interrogator to use, for instance, sleep deprivation without causing lasting harm. Guantanamo Bay has been referred to as an example of doctors overlooking, not reporting, advising, and even assisting in the abuse of detainees. In such cases, „military medical personnel are placed in a position of a "dual loyalty" conflict. They have to balance the medical needs of their patients, who happen to be detainees, with their military duty to their employer‟ (Clark 2006: 570; see also Miles 2006). As we already noted in the introduction, different dilemmas of dual loyalty arise when medical personnel must choose (and they regularly have to) whom to help first: a seriously wounded insurgent or civilian or a somewhat less seriously wounded colleague. Providing healthcare with the aim of bolstering the support for a military mission, that is, to win the hearts and minds of the local population, is another source of tensions. An International Dual Loyalty Working Group attempted a few years ago to resolve the dilemmas military health professionals face by offering a set of ten guidelines (Dual Loyalty Working Group 2002). The net result was basically a plea to give preference to the medical ethic over military considerations, that is, to be loyal to the patient, under almost all circumstances. Drawing on the findings of that working group, some have appealed for a rights-based framework which represents „a priori moral reasoning that privileges the protection of vulnerable people from state-sponsored harm, no matter the alleged justification‟ (Meerbach 2009; Bak 2010), and for civilian oversight by means of „a commission with membership that includes an adequate number of civilian health professionals skilled in ethical issues and human rights‟ (London et al. 2006: 388).1 Although recognizing that „in wartime, the exigencies of battle pose unique challenges incomparable to the civilian context because of the scale of the threats to life, unpredictability, and the levels of violence‟ (2006: 385), and that under some circumstances military necessity justifies deviating from what is normal ethical medical practice, these authors agree with the Dual Loyalty Working Group‟s first guideline that „the military health professional‟s first and overruling identity and priority is that of a health professional‟, and hold that „medical ethics during wartime are not fundamentally different from those applicable in peace‟ (2006: 388–9). Benatar‟s and Upshur‟s plan, in an article in the American Journal of Public Health, for a „totally independent‟ medical ethics tribunal that should make the decisions when dilemmas occur (the authors do not seem to take into account the fact that there is probably not always time to ask the tribunal to rule a decision) is somewhat similar: its deliberations should be guided by the principles of public health issues solely (2008: 2166). As such, most of these solutions are more a denial of the tensions than anything else.2 Professionalization and Loyalty At same time, however, all these authors offering guidelines that put the medical ethic first are very much in line with the opinion of the World Medical Organization, laid down in the WMA Regulations in Times of Armed Conflict, and holding that there is no difference between medical ethics in war and in peace. „Medical ethics in times of armed conflict is identical to medical ethics in times of peace‟, the WMA for instance states. „Standard ethical norms apply‟, the WMA policy in addition stipulates, and „the physician must always give the required care impartially‟ – which also implies that distinguishing between combatants and civilians is not allowed. This means that „if, in performing their professional duty, physicians have conflicting loyalties, their primary obligation is to their 1 This commission should provide „the needed balance in determining what kind of military necessity justifies deviating from the norms of ethical medical practice‟ (London et al. 2006: 388). There is fact some reason to worry here, since under the guise of military necessity the idea of civilian immunity can be reduced to „a useless garment‟ (Slim 2007: 174). Necessity is a matter of interpretation, and that inherent ambiguity is something with „enormous consequences for civilians‟ (Slim 2007: 174). 2 They also seem to deny that the moral dilemmas that military medical personnel face are in fact that: dilemmas. What these solutions and their proponents instead seem to suggest is that these apparent dilemmas are in fact tests of integrity: it is clear what is the right thing to do, yet there is considerable pressure (from peers, or the prospect of furthering one‟s own interest) to choose the wrong course of action (see Coleman 2009). Loyalty to colleagues seems to be nothing more than such a pressure. However, if loyalty amounts to a value, and for most members of the military (including military medical personnel) it is in fact a rather important one, than there is a dilemma again. patients‟.3 This is in accordance with the 1977 Geneva Protocol, specifying that „the personnel taking care of the wounded that they shall ignore the nationality or uniform of the person they are taking care of‟ (Protocol I, 1977b, Art. 10, paragraph 453; see also Gross 2006: 137.). What the WMA and the Geneva protocols seem to ask for is a universalistic ethic (see also Gross 2006), that is, an ethic in which everyone, friend or foe, counts for the same. They do so, however, in a context of violent conflict where such an all-encompassing ethic is in fact a difficult one to adhere to. Especially in war we cannot but expect to see little willingness on the part of the political and military leadership to take the consequences to all parties into account equally – if that willingness was there, there probably would not have been a war in the first place. In war, armed forces argue, the principle of salvage (that is, returning as many soldiers to duty as quickly as possible), not medical need, is, and should be, the guiding principle of all medical efforts. It is what serves not only the military as a collective „fighting force‟ best, but, in the end, also the survival of the political community it serves. War thus transforms medical ethics (Gross 2006: 324). What is more, the position of a practitioner of medicine in a civilian setting is, in essence, different from that of military personnel deployed on a mission. The medical staff of a civilian hospital can put the interest of their patients above everything else without putting themselves in harm‟s way, whereas military medical personnel cannot at all times act in the interest of the local population without incurring more risks to themselves and to their colleagues. For these reasons, and especially when we consider the fact that in the eyes of many the predominant task of a defence organization is still the defence of its own territory, the strong and exclusive emphasis on institutional loyalty in the military is perhaps not very surprising. Soldiers are, generally speaking, above all concerned about their own safety and the safety of their colleagues, which they (similar to politicians and the public) rate higher than that of the local population. They act, to use the jargon, from agent-relative reasons and not from agent-neutral reasons, meaning that the relationship in which the subject (stranger or colleague) stands to them matters (Parfit 1987: 27). This loyalty to colleagues and the organization (loyalty to colleagues seems to be a much stronger motive for most military personnel than loyalty to the organization, though) is the part of the military ethic that is most 3 The WMA policy can be found at http://www.wma.net/en/30publications/10policies/a20/index.html. at odds with what a „regular‟ professional ethic entail. In the past, some have for that reason maintained that the military profession was ill-suited to develop into a „true‟ profession (see for instance Van Doorn 1975).4 In light of that emphasis on loyalty in the military, it is probably also not very surprising that when military medical personnel have to choose between their responsibility for their patients and the demands of the military, they sometimes have their obligations to their patients overridden by their sense of military duty (see also Clark 2006: 577). It is possible, then, to reject the WMA standpoint out of hand as an example of utopian thinking, as Michael Gross does in his Bioethics and Armed Conflict (2006). One could conversely argue, however, that the attitude the WMA asks for – loyalty to one‟s professional ethic instead of to one‟s organization, colleagues and countrymen – is nothing more or less than what is commonly understood to be one of the key characteristics of a professional. As a result military medical personnel are to deal with situations in which conflicting values – the safety of oneself and one‟s colleagues versus the safety of the local population, but possibly also between military virtues and more civilian ones – impose conflicting demands on them. The next two sections attempt to relate the theory to two practical examples already hinted at in the above: the treatment of civilians and the military‟s involvement in local healthcare, set against the background of the current ISAF mission in Afghanistan. Treating Injured Civilians Due to the nature of today‟s expeditionary missions, militaries are often confronted with local nationals in need of medical attention, and although military health care‟s primary role is to conserve force strength, giving medical assistance to civilians has become an important component of military operations (Neuhaus 2008). In fact, over the past decade, the majority of patients treated by international militaries have been civilian patients (Neuhaus 2008). Today, ISAF personnel are 4 An important factor contributing to the strong organizational loyalty in military organizations is that, in fact, quite some conscious effort is made to ensure that military personnel become loyal employees, mainly by meticulously socializing them into the armed forces (and, possibly even more so, their own service). This socialization into the organization, instead of into a profession, is made easier by the fact that, where doctors, but also lawyers, receive most of their formal professional training before entering their job (the oldest profession, the clergy, forms possibly an exception), military personnel are predominantly trained in house. Furthermore, professional associations, compared to similar associations in other professions, traditionally do not play much of a role in the development of the profession (and as a result do not enhance loyalty to the profession), as they mainly look after the material interests of their members (Van Doorn 1975: 36). As a consequence, there are organizational values (in many forces still service specific), but, as yet, not really any values of the military profession. Nonetheless, not many authors today seem to take issue with the view that the military profession is, indeed, a profession. confronted on a regular basis by Afghans in need of medical help, and sometimes they have injuries that are a result from the activities of ISAF or Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF). In other cases, however, sick or injured Afghans will seek medical treatment from ISAF personnel because civilian healthcare is either not there or not good enough. To avoid that commanders have to decide for themselves whether or not to provide healthcare, an imposition that could be a burden to them and something of a gamble for the Afghan seeking help, since 2006 NATO military medical workers in Afghanistan have to work by the so-called Medical Rules of Eligibility, offering guidelines for deciding whether or not to provide medical treatment to non-ISAF injured. These Medical Rules of Eligibility include a flow chart offering three options: the injured person is (1) a member of ANSF requiring emergency aid; (2) a non-combatant injured by conflict activity with ANSF or ISAF troops; (3) a non-combatant and the injury is unrelated to conflict activity.5 In case of the first option, the injured person is treated in the casualty chain of the Coalition Forces (ISAF or OEF). After treatment the patient is discharged or transferred to an Afghan National Army (ANA) or civilian hospital. If it is a non-combatant that has injuries that are a result of ISAF activity (the second option) the patient is also treated in the casualty chain of the Coalition Forces, even if the injuries are not too serious. In such cases of collateral damage medical support is given so as to not to lose the support of the local population (Bak 2010). Also, the rules leave room to help someone (or his or her relative) important enough to be of future use to ISAF (Bak 2010). After treatment the patient is either discharged or transferred to a local national or NGO hospital. When the injured person is a non-combatant and the injury is unrelated to conflict activity (the third option), treatment depends on the extent of emergency care required and the extent of spare capacity within the medical facilities of the Coalition Forces. If considered an emergency and capacity is available the patient is treated within Coalition Forces‟ medical facilities. In any other circumstances the injured person is transferred to a local national or NGO hospital. As to what amounts to an emergency the Medical Rules of Eligibility stipulate that civilians with injuries unrelated to conflict activity are only to be helped in case of injuries that are threatening to life, limb or eyesight. 5 Non-combatants not only include the local population, but also media, contractors, personnel attached to UN agencies and humanitarian workers (Neuhaus 2008). In general, in these rules the interests of own military personnel (and Afghan National Security Forces personnel) outweigh those of the local population. As a consequence, every so often Afghans in need of medical attention will not be helped, even if the means to do so are probably there; on a daily basis treatment of local nationals is refused or discontinued to keep enough capacity for coalition soldiers (Leemans and Van Haeff 2009). As a rule such decisions are taken by the military commander, not by the doctor; the latter, who has an advisory role, is thought to be less prone to take the operational interests into account (Bak 2010).6 This partiality in the provision of healthcare can pose moral dilemmas for the medical personnel involved (Meerbach 2009), who face the choice between following the military line by strictly abiding the rules on the one hand, or taking a more lenient view on the rules, and thus acting upon their medical professional ethic, on the other. They, for instance, have the option to use means available abundantly (bandage, for instance), or to exaggerate wounds (and categorize them as threatening to life, limb or eyesight). One Dutch doctor somewhat overdid it by characterizing a harelip as life threatening (Bak 2010). Reasons for taking a fairly lenient view were divers. For instance, an infant at the gate with non-life threatening appendicitis will, if sent away, develop into a case needing emergency help in a day or so (Bak 2010). The wish to keep in practice, and avoid inactivity, was also mentioned as reasons for taking a merciful view were. Newer versions of the Medical Rules of Eligibility tend to be more specific in order narrow down the room left for interpretation – something also medical workers seem to welcome (Bak 2010).7 Military Involvement in Local Healthcare In his article on dual loyalties, already referred to in the above, Clark poses the question whether there is „a need for guidelines to be established that assist military medical personnel in dealing with the issue of "dual loyalty"‟ (2006: 571) As we have seen in the previous section, the answer has to be that such guidelines are, in fact, often already there, at least as far as injured civilians are concerned. 6 Notwithstanding the fact that not all patients were eligible, in the Dutch-led Role 2 hospital in Uruzgan approximately 90 per cent of the patients treated were Afghans. The treatment of non-combatants with injuries, regardless whether they resulted from conflict activities, poses some problems, the foremost being that ISAF‟s medical services are to support the mission by treating soldiers who generally are fit, healthy, and young, whereas local civilian patients include the elderly, children, and disabled; the kind of patients, obviously, the military casualty chain is not designed for. To provide proper care to such patients military nurses and doctors needed special medication, food and rooms to temporarily house the patients‟ relatives. 7 In practice, the degree and nature of care contributing nations provide, and the number of patients treated, can vary considerably. While the Dutch in Uruzgan referred all non-combat and non-critical patients to the local provincial hospital, the US hospital in that province abided by less strict rules, thereby attracting many local nationals preferring US military healthcare over the care provided in the provincial hospital. However, as regards Clark‟s second, seemingly harder question – what should the guidelines for military medical personnel be? – medical professionals might wonder whether the present rules of eligibility sufficiently take into account the interests of all parties involved. However, in recent years we have seen military personnel serving in a different capacity; not as medical personnel that should attend to the medical needs of own military personnel first, but taking part in projects that specifically aim at building goodwill by providing medical care to the local population. As we will see, these at first glance fairly humanitarian efforts can be subject to dual loyalties too, insofar as they are not undertaken as something worthwhile by itself, but as something that should help to attain the goals of a particular mission, as indeed seems to be the case. The recent operations in Iraq and Afghanistan, in particular, have led to a revival of counterinsurgency thinking that emphasizes the importance of increasing the legitimacy of the host nation authorities. Something that is to be accomplished by the „winning of hearts and minds‟ of the local population (Egnell 2010), for instance by using military medical capacity to improve healthcare for the local population.8 This mainly takes place under the headings of Medical Civic Action Programs (MEDCAPs) and of medical engagement. The first, MEDCAP, is commonly used in NATO as the generic term for the use of military medical capacity to provide healthcare to members of the local population in remote areas. A medical engagement refers to a medium or long-term medical assistance project without direct patient contact. Typically, a medical engagement may consist of a public health engineering project (such as the construction of a clinic), a health education or clinical mentoring project, or a project involving the distribution of health-related „consent-winning‟ items (for example, spectacles, shoes or vitamins). These MEDCAPs and medical engagements form the most visible military contribution to local healthcare, and they seem to fit well into the classification of hearts and minds operations as „a distinct category of tactical activities – separated from traditional military tasks‟ (Egnell 2010). For instance, according to ISAF‟s standard operating procedures MEDCAPs and medical engagements offer an opportunity to build trust with the Afghan people, develop ANSF medical and CIMIC public 8 The British field manual on military support to peace support operations refers to hearts and minds activities as programmes or projects in the field of humanitarian affairs or development for which commanders can receive funding (UK Ministry of Defence 2004). health capability, and assist the Afghan government to deliver visible benefits.9 The primary objective of MEDCAPs and medical engagements is therefore the promotion of support for ISAF and the Afghan government by providing practical assistance to the local population. Improving the health of the population in line with the Afghan government‟s public health strategy is only a secondary objective.10 It is especially this combination of the aims of security for the troops and healthcare for the local population that can lead to tensions and dilemmas.11 For instance, a report on a US MEDCAP in Iraq in 2003 states that: Understandably, the operational objectives were pacification of threats to US forces and community stability by showing cooperation in humanitarian deeds. Counter to intuition, the provision of medical care only was a collateral benefit. The recognition that the task primarily was one of public relations was philosophically important to all parties involved. (Malish, Scott and Rasheed 2006) A result of the fact that improving healthcare was not the main objective of these activities was that the: perception of success of the MEDCAP II program was widely divergent between operational and medical personnel. Command had no means by which to judge the quality of medical care or the effects of the care on popular opinion. As such, numbers-treated became the rubric by which success was measured, and thus, the goal of future iterations. Medical personnel, on the other hand, became disillusioned. Physicians were hobbled by limited histories, scores of healthy „patient‟, the absence of diagnostic testing, and, most importantly, the lack of follow-up. Some believed 9 Since training and development of ANSF is a main objective of ISAF, MEDCAPs and medical engagements are conducted jointly with ANSF medical teams in order to develop local military medical experience. 10 Nonetheless, in Uruzgan various medical engagements undertaken by Dutch military personnel focused on capacity building. To target maternal mortality the Dutch contingent set up a special training to increase the quality and number of midwives in Uruzgan. In addition, personnel of the provincial hospital in Tarin Kowt were given training on a regular base (Rietjens, 2010). 11 Aside from the not insignificant fact that the whole enterprise all seems to be built on shaky causal assumptions regarding the connection between aid and stabilization (Wilder 2008). It is, for instance, not that certain that the provision of health services really contributes notably to a population‟s willingness to view its government in a more favourable light (Waldman 2007). Wilder (2008) points out that the contemporary interpretation of winning hearts and minds in a setting of comprehensive approaches to stabilization and peace building has created a number of questionable assumptions regarding the links between stabilization and aid. First, it is assumed that reconstruction efforts have stabilizing effects on conflict. It is thought that aid will lead to economic development which in turn, will bring about stability. Second, aid projects are assumed to help win the hearts and minds and thereby increase support for the host government and for the international presence. Third, extending the reach of the Afghan government is assumed to contribute to stabilization. However, Wilder‟s research in Afghanistan indicates that all these causal assumptions underlying today‟s hearts and minds approach may be false (2008). that the program „violated basic ethical standards of medical care‟. (Malish, Scott and Rasheed 2006) Helping locals with an eye to furthering operational goals is thus a source of frustration for medical personnel. Their ethic prescribes that patients are important as such, and that care should be provided independently of „what is in it for us‟. Such experiences are a further illustration of the fact that the military medical personnel do not always consider military effectiveness to be their sole or even primary interest. In this case they seem to have been disillusioned about the fact that they could not provide local nationals with healthcare that meets their professional medical standards. On a more general plane, the fact that military involvement in civilian healthcare is undertaken for other reasons than providing healthcare to those who need it raises the question of whether military healthcare activities that may seem to meet local needs on the short-term, can conflict with reconstruction principles such as sustainability and capacity building. Although the ISAF guidelines state that all MEDCAP and medical engagement activities should be planned in conjunction with the provincial Director of Public Health (DPH), this unfortunately not always happens. Many MEDCAP and medical engagement activities are still carried out in isolation from the local government and NGOs. Most of these efforts have a short-term focus, are more concerned with the quantity of people reached than with the quality of care provided, and can undermine the trust of the local population in their own health care system (Alderman, Christensen and Crawford 2010). As expeditionary missions are conducted temporarily, the provision of military healthcare to civilians is inevitably only for the time being, and often there will be little impact that is going to endure beyond the end of the mission. So, notwithstanding the fact that both the World Health Organization (WHO) and the Afghanistan Research and Evaluation Unit (AREU) point to the long-term nature of reconstructing Afghanistan‟s health sector, Western militaries provide the Afghanis with no more than temporary health care, whereas civilian organizations as a rule plan to stay in the area for a period of five to ten years. What is more, since military units are primarily responsible for security, there is always the chance projects aimed at the development of healthcare will be terminated abruptly if the security situation deteriorates (Rollins 2001). It therefore seems that short-term military reconstruction interventions to increase stability and legitimacy in the countries of deployment, as well as the acceptance of the international presence, can be inconsistent with and, even undermine, long-term development (Rubenstein 2009). In the health sector particularly, short-term engagements should be considered carefully since improved health outcomes are reversible if access to services is interrupted, unlike for instance, gains in education.12 Moreover, when future military contingents cannot maintain comparative levels of care, civilian expectations may be thwarted, which in turn might lead to security risks for own troops. Also, NGOs report that services run by or in conjunction with the military, for instance in Afghanistan, can endanger the population as well as local and international service providers (Rubenstein 2009; Rietjens and Bollen 2008). As soon as insurgents understand that a health intervention is designed for strategic purposes, health facilities and workers will in all likelihood become a target (Ryan 2007), jeopardizing the safety of development projects and personnel in the vicinity (Rubenstein 2009). In areas in Afghanistan where the Taliban are strong „the challenges of implementation are nevertheless beyond the humanitarian and development competences of the military‟. For example, in the Korengal Valley newly constructed clinics were destroyed the moment they were finished (Egnell 2010).13 It is mainly because of these concerns that, while very popular during the first years of the operation in Afghanistan, much less MEDCAPs are carried out nowadays. General Petraeus, for instance, stated in a letter of 9 November 2010 to ISAF commanders that MEDCAPs should only be used in areas where there is no health care provision and when it can be sustained until others take 12 It is for such reasons that the development community has argued that both humanitarian principles as well as principles of (health) reconstruction, such as ownership, sustainability and capacity building, risk to be sacrificed by military involvement in healthcare reconstruction in an attempt to attain military strategic advantages (Rubinstein 2009). 13 Not surprisingly, both within the military and the humanitarian community there are serious doubts concerning the utility of military engagement in humanitarian and development projects (Egnell 2010). Canadian Major-General MacKenzie is reported to have said that „soldiers are not social workers with guns. Both disciplines are important, but both will suffer if combined in the same individuals‟ (Adinall 2006). The aid community, holding that improved health care should not be a mere means to achieve political stability but is something that is in itself worth striving for (Waldman 2007), seems to agree for at least two main reasons. First of all, the military often lack humanitarian expertise, experience, and training needed to conduct these types of activities effectively. While providing healthcare impartially to those in need forms the essence of the medical oath, some worry whether military medical staff have the necessary humanitarian expertise to perform these „good deeds‟ in the right way. Although the military may command a part of the necessary resources, it perhaps does not know how to put their resources to good use (Bollen 2002), with the result that military projects in the sphere of development and humanitarian affairs often underperform in terms of cost-effectiveness and sustainability (Egnell 2010). Secondly, by engaging in these projects, militaries are blurring the lines between military and civilian actors. Both recipients of aid as well as the conflicting parties may find it difficult to distinguish between providers of assistance and combatants: „if the humanitarian community is associated not only with the intervening powers, but also with the political and military agendas of the larger intervention, the humanitarian space – access to suffering communities on both sides of the confrontation line, based on the humanitarian principles – risks being eroded‟ (Egnell 2010). over. For the rest, MEDCAPs should be avoided, although Petraeus (and the ISAF Standard Operating Procedure on Military Medical Engagement in Health Sector Reconstruction and Development) makes one important exception: that is when „force-protection considerations outweigh the potential harmful effects‟ (Petraeus 2010). If that is the case, MEDCAPs are still acceptable, and that again seems to suggest that, in the end, as far as militaries are concerned, and in spite of how their own military medical personnel might feel about it, considerations of military effectiveness prevail in military medical ethics. Conclusion The concerns regarding MEDCAPs, and General Petraeus‟s pragmatic response to those concerns, but also the dilemmas experienced by military medical personnel when they have to decide on the treatment of local nationals, illustrate that behind the many moral questions military medical personnel face today is the conflict between loyalty to a group – one‟s colleagues or organization – on the one hand and a more universal ethic on the other hand. In general, the interests of colleagues and the organization win through. The two cases elaborated on in this chapter show that there are rules and policies to assist military medical personnel in their work, but also that these rules and policies do not equally weigh the consequences to all parties. The rationales behind today‟s „hearts and minds‟ approach are, for instance, to a large extent self-serving. Winning over the local population is considered essential for the success of today‟s missions, as it is thought to yield better information and more cooperation from the local population, and thus, in the end, increased security for the troops. That seems to suggest that current efforts to improve the healthcare situation of the local population in Afghanistan might come to a halt if the expediency argument no longer carries much weight. At first sight, that might seem a rather dismal conclusion. Yet, as it stands, the largest part of military codes, oaths, value systems and culture seem antagonistic to the idea that the plight of local civilians counts for the same as that of a Western soldier. Military effectiveness and loyalty to organization and colleagues still hold central place in the military ethic (Robinson 2007), and hence also in the military medical ethic. This ethic took shape, however, at a time in which the interests of the local population played a lesser role, as the main task of Western militaries was the defence of their own territory. It is evident that the tasks of most militaries have widened in scope, which essentially means that they have to deal with more than just opposing forces, and one might expect that, with the shifting nature of warfare, from wars of self-defence to humanitarian interventions, military necessity may play less of a role in the future (see also Gross 2006: 330). In today‟s operations, the combined forces of law, politics, an increased moral sensitivity, public opinion, and extensive media coverage, both at home and abroad, put increasing pressure on military personnel to take the interests of others, rather than just the organization and colleagues, into account; in recent years more so than ever before (Cook 2004; Olsthoorn 2010). Although this poses questions and dilemmas for military medical personnel they were not likely to encounter in earlier days, one might also ask the question whether, at a time that many armed forces consider the promotion of universal principles as their main ground for existence, the development of a more encompassing military medical ethic, with the main focus of loyalty being the professional ethic instead of the organization, is still too far-fetched. Bibliography Alderman, S., Christensen, J. and Crawford, I. 2010. Medical seminars: A new paradigm for SOF counterinsurgency medical programs. Journal of Special Operations Medicine: A Peer Reviewed Journal for Sof Medical Professionals, 10(1), 16–22. Bak, B.M. 2010. Medical rules of eligibility: Evaluatie van het NAVO beleidsinstrument dat de medische keten van ISAF hanteert bij het behandelen van niet-coalitietroepen. Breda: Nederlandse Defensie Academie. Benatar, S.R. and Upshur, R.E.G. 2008. Dual loyalty of physicians in the military and in civilian life. American Journal of Public Health, 98(12), 2161–7. Clark, P.A. 2006. Medical ethics at Guantanamo Bay and Abu Ghraib: The problem of dual loyalty. The Journal of Law, Medicine & Ethics, 34(3), 570–80. Coleman, S. 2009. The problems of duty and loyalty. Journal of Military Ethics, 8(2), 105–15. Cook, M.L. 2004. The Moral Warrior: Ethics and Service in the U.S. Military. Albany: State University of New York Press. Doorn, J.A.A. van. 1975. The Soldier and Social Change. London: Sage Publications. Dual Loyalty Working Group. 2002. Dual Loyalty and Human Rights in Health Professional Practice. Proposed Guidelines and Institutional Mechanisms. Washington: Physicians for Human Rights. Egnell, R. 2010. Winning „hearts and minds‟? A critical analysis of counter-insurgency operations in Afghanistan. Civil Wars, 12(3), 282–303. Gross, M.L. 2006. Bioethics and Armed Conflict: Moral Dilemmas of Medicine and War. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Howe, E.G. 1986. Ethical issues regarding mixed agency of military physicians. Social Science & Medicine, 23(8), 803–15. Leemans, R. and Haeff, M. van. 2009. Oorlogschirurgie in Kandahar (Afghanistan), Nederlands Tijdschrift voor Traumatologie, 17(5), 119–23. [Online]. Available at: http://www.azo.nl/downloads/bsl-traumatologie.pdf. London, L., Rubenstein, L., Baldwin-Ragaven, L. and Es, A. van. 2006. Dual loyalty among military health professionals: Human rights and ethics in times of armed conflict. Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare Ethics, 15(4), 381–91. Malish, R., Scott, J.S. and Rasheed, B.O. 2006. Military-civic action: Lessons learned from a brigade-level aid project in the 2003 war with Iraq. Prehospital and Disaster Medicine, 21(3), 135–40. Meerbach, C.M.C. 2009. Morele professionaliteit van Algemeen Militair Verpleegkundigen in hedendaagse operaties. Breda: Nederlandse Defensie Academie. Mendus, S. 2002. Impartiality in Moral and Political Philosophy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Miles, S.H. 2006. Oath Betrayed: Torture, Medical Complicity, and the War on Terror. New York: Random House. Neuhaus, S.J. 2008. Medical Aspects of Civil-Military Operations: The Challenges of Military Health Support to Civilian Populations on Operations, in Civil-Military Cooperation in PostConflict Operations, edited by C. Ankersen. London: Routledge. Olsthoorn, P. 2010. Military Ethics and Virtues: An Interdisciplinary Approach for the 21st Century. London: Routledge. Parfit, D. 1987. Reasons and Persons. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Petraeus, D. 2010. Letter on ISAF medical involvement in civilian health care. [Online]. Available at: https://ronnaafghan.harmonieweb.org/Healthcare/CivilHealthcareSector/Shared%20Documents/COMISAF %20Letter%20-%20Conduct%20of%20MEDCAP%20Across%20the%20AOR.pdf. Rietjens, S.J.H. and Bollen, M.T.I.B. (eds). 2008. Managing Civil-Military Cooperation: A 24/7 Joint Effort for Stability. Aldershot: Ashgate. Rietjens, S.J.H., Bollen, M.T.I.B., Khalil, M. and Wahidi, S.F. 2009. Enhancing the local footprint: Participation of Afghan stakeholders in ISAF‟s reconstruction activities. Parameters, 39(1), 1– 19. Robinson, P. 2007. Ethics training and development in the military. Parameters, 37(1), 22–36. Rollins, J. 2001. Operational Models for Civil-Military Cooperation: Possibilities and Limitations. Mons: SHAPE. Rubenstein, L.S. 2009. Post-Conflict Health Reconstruction: New Foundations for U.S. Policy. Washington: United States Institute of Peace. [Online]. Available at: http://www.usip.org. UK Ministry of Defence. 2004. Military Contributions to Peace Support Operations, JWP 3–50. London: UK MoD, 4–24. Waldman, R. 2007. Health Programming for Rebuilding States: A Briefing Paper. Arlington,VA: BASICS and USAID. Wilder, A. 2008. Winning Hearts and Minds? Examining the Relationship between Aid and Security in Afghanistan, Pakistan and the Horn of Africa. Boston: Feinstein International Center.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Sensitivity Actually∗ Michael Blome-Tillmann Abstract A number of prominent epistemologists claim that the principle of sensitivity "play[s] a starring role in the solution to some important epistemological problems" (DeRose 2010: 161; also Nozick (1981)). I argue that traditional sensitivity accounts fail to explain even the most basic data that are usually considered to constitute their primary motivation. To establish this result I develop Gettier and lottery cases involving necessary truths. Since beliefs in necessary truths are sensitive by default, the resulting cases give rise to a serious explanatory problem for the defenders of sensitivity accounts. It is furthermore argued that attempts to modally strengthen traditional sensitivity accounts to avoid the problem must appeal to a notion of safety-the primary competitor of sensitivity in the literature. The paper concludes that the explanatory virtues of sensitivity accounts are largely illusory. In the framework of modal epistemology, it is safety rather than sensitivity that does the heavy explanatory lifting with respect to Gettier cases, lottery examples, and other pertinent cases. 1 Sensitivity and Its Motivation Robert Nozick (1981: 179ff.) introduced us to the following property of beliefs that is nowadays widely known as Sensitivity : (SEN) S sensitively believes that p via method M =df [if p were false, then S wouldn't believe p via M ]. According to Nozick and other sensitivity theorists, sensitivity is entailed by knowledge: ∗I am indebted to Yuval Avnur, Sven Bernecker, Peter Graham, and Duncan Pritchard for discussion. Special thanks are due to an anonymous referee for this journal for providing extensive comments on an earlier version of this paper. This work was supported by Marie Curie Actions (PIIF-GA-2012-328969 'Epistemic Vocabulary'). 1 (K-SEN) Necessarily, S knows p via method M only if: [if p were false, then S wouldn't believe p via M ]. (K-SEN) is, on the face of it, well-motivated. It allows us to give an explanation of our intuitions in certain central cases in epistemology. Keith DeRose (2010), for instance, argues that sensitivity-based accounts of knowledge allow us to account for Gettier cases, lottery examples, and our (alleged) failure to know the negations of sceptical hypotheses.1 To prepare the ground for my later criticism of sensitivity theories, let us briefly consider each of these data points in some detail. First, a Gettier case. Hannah switches on her television on a Sunday afternoon and starts watching the Wimbledon men's final. Unbeknownst to her, the BBC has suspended live broadcasting a while ago due to a technical fault. Instead of this year's men's final, the BBC is broadcasting last year's men's final. As Hannah sees Federer win a match point on her television set, she shouts out to her wife Sarah, who is in the garden: (1) Hannah: 'Federer just won the men's final!' As it happens, Federer has in fact just won the men's final, repeating last year's feat. Given the facts of our little story, Hannah has a well-justified true belief that Federer just won the men's final, but she intuitively (we may grant) doesn't know that proposition. What accounts for the fact that Hannah doesn't know, despite the fact that she has a well-justified true belief? The sensitivity theorist claims to have a straightforward explanation of this datum: Hannah's belief as expressed by (1) is not sensitive. To see this, note that if Federer hadn't just won the men's final, Hannah, who is watching a replay of last year's final, would still believe that he did. Given (K-SEN), Hannah doesn't know (1) because her belief that (1) is not sensitive. Besides offering an account of Gettier cases, sensitivity theorists claim that their view provides us with a compelling explanation of our (apparent) failure to know lottery propositions.2 Consider (2), as uttered by Omar after the final draw of the lottery, but before the results have been announced: (2) Omar: 'My lottery ticket is not a winner.' 1DeRose (2010) is more cautious about the entailment relation but also subscribes to the view that sensitivity can explain our intuitions in the cases mentioned. See Section 5 for a detailed discussion of DeRose's views. Other defenders of sensitivity include (Adams and Clarke 2005; Cross 2010). 2I say 'apparent' because I have argued elsewhere (Blome-Tillmann 2014: chs. 5.2-3) that we sometimes know lottery propositions. 2 Intuitively (we may grant), Omar doesn't know that his lottery ticket is not a winner. For all Omar knows, his ticket could be the one ticket that cracks the jackpot.3 What explains our intuition that Omar doesn't know (2), despite the fact that he has an extremely strong epistemic justification for his true belief that (2)? According to the sensitivity theorist, the puzzle is again solved by (K-SEN). Omar doesn't know (2) because his belief that (2) isn't sensitive: if Omar's ticket were a winner, Omar would (falsely) believe that it's not a winner. Thus, with respect to our beliefs in lottery propositions, the condition in (K-SEN) isn't satisfied. That is why, the sensitivity theorist argues, we cannot know lottery propositions. A third and final datum presented in support of sensitivity accounts is our (apparent) failure to know sceptical hypotheses.4 Consider Kayla's utterance in (3): (3) Kayla: 'I'm not a brain in a vat.' The sensitivity-based explanation of our intuitions in this case is again fairly straightforward. Kayla doesn't know that she is not a brain in a vat because her belief that she is not a brain in a vat is insensitive. For if Kayla were a brain in a vat, she would (falsely) believe that she is not a brain in a vat. Given (K-SEN), it follows that Kayla's belief in (3)-and our beliefs in sceptical hypotheses more generally-cannot be knowledge. It is due to the apparent ease with which sensitivity theorists can account for the above data that the view has seemed attractive to many epistemologists. However, while sensitivity accounts of knowledge are, on the face of it, explanatorily quite powerful, they have also been subject to severe criticism in the literature. As philosophers as illustrious as Kripke (2011), Sosa (1999: 141-142), and Williamson (2000: 117, also ch. 7) have argued, (K-SEN) rather implausibly leads to closure failure and, as Sosa (1999: 145) and Vogel (1987) have claimed, to the impossibility of second-order knowledge. In addition, a number of theorists, most prominently Hawthorne (2004: 10-11), Schiffer (1996: 331), Sosa (1999: 145-146), and Williamson (2000: 158-161) have produced counterexamples to (K-SEN). In light of these objections, sensitivity theorists such as DeRose (1995, 2010), Adams and Clarke (2005), Cross (2010), Roush (2007), and others have aimed to revise and refine their accounts. The success and limitations of those revisions shall not be the topic of this paper.5 Instead of adding further epicycles to the discussion of 3Hence the trademarked slogan of the New York Lottery: 'You never know!' 4Cp. fn. 2. I have argued elsewhere, in (Blome-Tillmann 2014: ch. 5.2; 2015), that we sometimes know the negations of sceptical hypotheses. 5But see below for a discussion of Cross's and DeRose's recent accounts. 3 the above problems, I shall aim right at the heart of sensitivity theories and dispute that (K-SEN) and its variants can account for any of the data that sensitivity theorists have produced in its support. Thus, if I am right, then the primary motivation for a sensitivity theory is undermined and we are left with nothing but the familiar downsides of the view identified by Kripke, Sosa, Williamson, and others. 2 Ignorance of Necessary Truths It is a familiar fact that all beliefs in necessary truths are sensitive by default. To see this let us reformulate (SEN) in terms of possible worlds (assuming the standard Stalnaker-Lewis semantics for counterfactual conditionals): (SEN′) S sensitively believes that p via method M =df [in the closest ¬p-worlds, S doesn't believe p via M ]. Next, note that if p is necessary then there are no ¬p-worlds and thus no closest ¬p-worlds in which S (falsely) believes p. The sensitivity condition is, therefore, trivially satisfied with respect to necessary truths: (NST) Necessarily, all beliefs in necessary truths are sensitive.6,7 As we shall see below, this feature of beliefs in necessary truths spells trouble for the sensitivity theorist, as it allows us to construe examples of sensitive beliefs that resemble the examples from Section 1 in all relevant respects. In the envisaged cases, however, the explanation that our subjects fail to know because their beliefs are insensitive is clearly unavailable, thus raising serious doubts as to whether the sensitivity theorist's explanation of our initial cases is satisfactory. To see in more detail what I have in mind, consider the fact that, as David Lewis (1970: 185) has pointed out, the operator 'actually' in the English language is ambiguous between a primary sense, on which it acts as an indexical, referring rigidly to the world in which it is uttered, and a secondary sense 6Nozick (1981: 176) himself was well aware of this consequence of his view, which is why he added a second modal condition to his analysis of knowledge. 'Adherence' is the constraint that, if p were true, S would believe that p. Adherence shall not concern us further in this paper. 7Roush (2012: 246) is also aware of the issue, claiming that: "Necessary truths are different from empirical truths [. . . ] so it should be no surprise if the kind of responsiveness we should expect for knowledge of logical truths and other necessary truths takes a different form." However, the dichotomy between necessary and empirical truths is a false one and I shall exploit this fact in creating trouble for the sensitivity theorist below. 4 on which occurrences of the word are effectively redundant. Let us focus on the primary sense of 'actually' in what follows. Consider the proposition expressed by Hannah's utterance in (4) in the previously described Gettier case: (4) Hannah: 'Federer actually just won the men's final!' On Lewis's primary reading of 'actually', Hannah's utterance in (4) expresses the same proposition as her (less idiomatic) utterance in (5): (5) Hannah: 'In the actual world, Federer just won the Wimbledon men's final.' The proposition Hannah expresses in (5), however, is a necessary truth. It is necessarily true that, in the world that Hannah refers to as 'the actual world', Federer just won the men's final. To illustrate this further call the world Hannah refers to with the term 'the actual world' @. Then, since Federer won in @, it is necessarily true that Federer won in @. It is, in other words, true in all worlds w that Federer won in @. If Hannah's utterance in (4) expresses a necessary truth, however, then given (NST), the belief that she expresses in uttering (4) must be sensitive. But if Hannah's belief as expressed in (4) is sensitive, then the sensitivity theorist doesn't have an explanation of why Hannah's belief in (4) fails to be knowledge. Consequently, the sensitivity theorist can explain why Hannah fails to know (1)-that Federer just won the men's final-but she cannot explain why Hannah fails to know (4)-that Federer actually just won the men's final. I take it that this result is, if unavoidable, a rather serious embarrassment for the sensitivity theorist, for one would hope that a successful explanation of the former datum be equally applicable to the latter. An analogous objection can be made to the sensitivity theorist's account of Omar's lottery utterance. By inserting the 'actually'-operator into (2) we obtain (6), which, in Omar's mouth, expresses the same proposition as in (7): (6) Omar: 'My lottery ticket is actually not a winner.' (7) Omar: 'In the actual world, my lottery ticket is not a winner.' Just as in Hannah's case, the proposition expressed by Omar's utterances in (6) and (7) is a necessary truth. Thus, the belief that Omar expresses by means of (6) and (7) is sensitive. Consequently, the sensitivity theorist has an explanation of why Omar fails to know (2)-that his lottery ticket is 5 not a winner-but not of why he fails to know (6)-that his lottery ticket is actually not a winner. Analogous reasoning applies to Kayla's case and her failure to know that she isn't a brain in a vat. I shall spare the reader the details. The problem can be illustrated in a more schematic way. Let 'p' range over the propositions believed by our subjects in (1)-(3) and let '@p' stand for their 'actualized' counterpart propositions. Then, according to the sensitivity theorist, our subjects fail to know p because their beliefs that p aren't sensitive. But the same explanation doesn't apply to their beliefs that @p. Since @p is a necessary truth, beliefs that @p are sensitive by default. Consequently, the rather obvious fact that Hannah, Omar, and Kayla fail to know @p cannot be explained by means of (K-SEN). Such an explanatory discrepancy between the two types of cases is rather surprising. The phenomenology of each case is, after all, rather similar, if not identical. Intuitively, our subjects fail to know both p and @p for the same reason-namely, because the beliefs at issue are true as a matter of luck. Our subjects 'lucked out', as it were, in believing truly. But if our subjects' beliefs that @p fail to be knowledge for the same reasons as their beliefs that p, then the sensitivity principle must be unsuccessful in explaining what is really going on in Gettier cases, lottery examples, and cases of ignorance of sceptical hypotheses. As a consequence, (K-SEN) fails to capture the sense of epistemic luck that is incompatible with knowledge and therefore cannot do the explanatory work it was designed to do. Before moving on, let us consider some potential responses by the sensitivity theorist. To begin with, note that appeal to the notion of a belief-forming method cannot resolve the explanatory problem uncovered by the above examples. For the problem is, as (K-SEN′) illustrates, that the sensitivity principle urges us to consider what the subject believes, by whichever methods, in the closest worlds in which her belief is false. The problem, however, is precisely that there are no such worlds, and not that the belief-forming method has been specified inappropriately. According to a second response, the above objection is based on a flawed semantics of the natural language term 'actually'.8 (Stephanou 2010) and (Yalcin 2015), for instance, have argued recently that the natural language expression 'actually' isn't an operator that refers rigidly to the world of the context of utterance. However, nothing much in the above argument rests on the semantics of the natural language term 'actually'. If Stephanou and Yalcin are right, we can reformulate the above examples by means of the technical operator '@', which we then define stipulatively to have the seman8Thanks to an anonymous referee for pointing out this issue. 6 tics that Lewis thought 'actually' has on its primary reading. Such a move might be taken to give rise to further worries, however. For instance, the defender of sensitivity might argue that the proposition expressed by '@p' thus defined cannot be believed by ordinary epistemic subjects or that, despite appearances, we in fact know that @p, even though we fail to know p. I shall not investigate further these responses. Instead, note that largely equivalent difficulties to the ones described above arise entirely independently of the semantics of '@' or 'actually'- namely, from disjunction introduction. We can, after all, turn any contingent truth into a necessary truth by introducing a necessary disjunct. Consider (8): (8) Hannah: 'Federer just won the men's final or 4657 is a prime number.' If Hannah has no idea whatsoever whether or not 4657 is a prime number, then her belief in (8) is, in the epistemic sense at issue here, true as a matter of luck (she bases her belief solely on her watching a broadcast of last year's final). However, in (8) Hannah believes a necessary truth and her belief is, therefore, sensitive by default. But, surely, what explains the fact that Hannah doesn't know (1)-that Federer just won the men's final-should, in the envisaged case, also explain why Hannah doesn't know (8)-that Federer just won the men's final or 4657 is a prime number. But since the sensitivity theorist cannot explain the latter, it is again doubtful whether her attempted explanation of (1) is uncovering the true reasons for Hannah's ignorance. A third and final response to be mentioned here rejects the assumption underlying the above argument that counterpossibles-that is, counterfactuals with impossible antecedents-are trivially true. Such a view can be modeled semantically by introducing impossible worlds into one's semantics.9 Impossible worlds analyses of counterfactual conditionals, however, are controversial.10 Suffice it to say here that embracing such an unorthodox account of counterfactuals comes at a significant cost to the sensitivity theorist. I shall, therefore, ignore the matter for the moment and return to the issue of impossible worlds in Section 6. 3 Safety If the sensitivity theorist wants her principle to account for all of the data arising from Gettier cases, lottery examples, and sceptical hypotheses, she 9Miller (ms) is attracted to such a view. 10See, for instance, (Stalnaker 1996; Williamson 2007: ch. 5.6). 7 must replace (K-SEN) with a principle that avoids the abovementioned problems. To see what such an amended principle could look like, let us consider briefly how safety theorists have responded to the threat of our ignorance of necessary truths. To begin with, consider a standard formulation of the safety principle that is due to Ernest Sosa (1999: 146):11 (SAFE) S's belief that p is safe =df [if S were to believe p, then p]. According to (SAFE), a belief is safe iff it couldn't have been false easily. In other words, one's belief that p is safe just in case one believes p in a nearby world w only if p is true in w. In analogy to sensitivity theorists, safety theorists believe that safety is a property of knowledge: (K-SAF) Necessarily, S knows p only if [if S were to believe p, then p].12 Next, note that-again, analogously to the case of sensitivity-any belief in a necessary truth is safe by default. This is so because one's belief that p cannot be false in nearby ¬p-worlds, if-as is the case if p is necessary-there are no ¬p-worlds: (NSF) Necessarily, all beliefs in necessary truths are safe. As is familiar from the literature on safety, this property of safety as formulated in (Sosa 1999) leads to the undesirable result that the safety theorist cannot explain why we sometimes fail to know necessary truths. Consider a somewhat drastic example in which Will has based his belief in (9) solely on the testimony of his wildly unreliable guru:13 (9) Will: '4657 is a prime number.' Intuitively, Will doesn't know (9), despite the fact that his belief in (9) is safe on the above definition.14 In response to this problem safety theorists such as Pritchard (2007a: 292, 2007b: 40, 2009: 34) and Williamson (2000: 147, 2009: 23) have proposed alternative formulations of the safety principle. Instead of going into the exegetical details, however, consider the following definition, which captures the spirit of Pritchard's and Williamson's accounts with sufficient accuracy for the purposes at hand:15 11For an excellent overview of the current debate on safety see (Rabinowitz 2014). 12See, for instance, (Sosa 1999). Note also that (K-SAF) can provide an explanation of why Hannah and Omar fail to know (1) and (2), but not of why Kayla (seemingly) fails to know (3). The explanatory virtues of safety shall not concern us further in this paper. 13Cp. (Williamson 2009: 23). 14Of course, the sensitivity theorist will not be any better off with respect to this example. 15Williamson (2000: 147) formulates his version of as follows: 8 (SAFE′) S's belief that p (via method M) is safe =df [S couldn't easily have formed a false belief (via M)]. (SAFE′) resolves the problem of accounting for Will's ignorance in an elegant way. Since Will's belief-forming method is hopelessly unreliable, he could very easily have formed a false belief by applying it. His unreliable guru, for instance, could have easily told him that 4659 is a prime number or that 15 is. Given (SAFE′), beliefs in necessary truths are no longer safe by default. To the contrary, one's belief in a necessary truth is only safe if one's beliefforming method doesn't lead to falsity in nearby worlds. Moreover, note that (SAFE′) can explain Hannah's and Omar's ignorance in our examples from Section 2 in a rather elegant way. To see this, note that if Hannah comes to believe that Federer actually just won the men's final by watching a BBC broadcast, then there is a nearby world in which (a) Federer hasn't just won and (b) Hannah comes to believe, by watching a BBC broadcast, that he did just win. Thus, Hannah could have easily come to believe a contingent falsehood by method M , and her belief is, therefore, not safe. Analogous considerations apply to Omar's lottery case. If Omar comes to believe that his ticket is actually not a winner by calculating the odds, then there is a nearby world in which (a) Omar's ticket is a winner and (b) Omar comes to believe, by calculating the odds, that his ticket is not a winner. Again, Omar could have easily come to believe a contingent falsehood and his belief is, therefore, not safe. Before moving on, let me formulate the above points schematically. In Gettier and lottery examples, if S believes @p via method M , then there is a nearby world w in which (a) p is false and (b) S believes p via method M . (W1) If one knows, one could not easily have been wrong in a similar case. In his (2009: 23), Williamson illustrates this view further by arguing that "knowing p requires safety from the falsity of p and of its epistemic counterparts." Here is a principle capturing the notion: (W2) S's belief that p is safe =df 1. [if S were to believe p, then p] and 2. [if S were to believe one of p's epistemic counterparts p*, then p*]. It is also noteworthy that Williamson (2000: ch. 7.4) is opposed to the use of belief-forming methods in epistemology and therefore wouldn't accept (SAFE′). Finally, note that if p is an epistemic counterpart of itself, condition 1 in (W2) is strictly speaking redundant. Pritchard (2007a: 292, 2007b: 40, 2009: 34) defines safety as follows: "S's belief is safe iff in most near-by possible worlds in which S continues to form her belief about the target proposition in the same way as in the actual world, and in all very close near-by possible worlds in which S continues to form her belief about the target proposition in the same way as in the actual world, the belief continues to be true." For a predecessor of this definition, see (Pritchard 2005: 163). 9 Thus, S could have easily come to believe a contingent falsehood by method M , and her belief is, therefore, not safe. More sophisticated safety theorists such as Pritchard and Williamson have, as a consequence, an elegant and convincing story to tell about our tuned-up Gettier and lottery cases from Section 2.16 4 Safe Sensitivity Given the ease and elegance with which more sophisticated safety principles avoid the problem of necessary truths, the question arises whether the sensitivity theorist can simply adopt some of the safety theorists' apparatus for her own purposes. Since both theories place modal constraints on knowledge, such an idea is, on the face of it, rather plausible. But how could the sensitivity theorist piggyback on the safety theorists' solution? The obvious suggestion, in light of (SAFE′), is what I shall call the principle of safe sensitivity : (SFSN) S's belief that p (via method M) is safely sensitive =df [S couldn't easily have formed an insensitive belief (via M)]. In terms of possible worlds, this principle demands not only that one's actual belief that p be sensitive, but also that all those beliefs that were formed by the same method in nearby worlds be sensitive. In other words, one's belief that p is safely sensitive iff one's belief-forming method leads to sensitive beliefs in nearby worlds. With the notion of safe sensitivity in place, the defender of a sensitivity account of knowledge can finally avoid the troubles from Section 2 by simply admitting that knowledge requires more than classical sensitivity-namely, the stronger condition of safe sensitivity: (K-SFSN) Necessarily, S knows p (via method M) only if: [S couldn't easily have formed in insensitive belief (via M)]. It should be fairly obvious how this principle avoids the problematic consequences of the classical formulations of sensitivity. Let me illustrate the matter schematically first. If S in the examples from Section 2 believes @p by method M , then there is a nearby world w in which (a) S believes p by means of M and (b) S's belief that p is insensitive. Thus, the condition 16(SAFE′) cannot account for the (alleged; cp. fn. 4) datum that Kayla fails to know that she is not a brain in a vat. However, note again that the explanatory virtues of safety are not the topic of this paper. 10 explicated in (K-SFSN) isn't satisfied in the relevant examples and S's belief that @p isn't safely sensitive. The defender of (K-SFSN) has an explanation of why S doesn't know @p. Next, consider the Wimbledon Gettier case. If Hannah believes that Federer actually won by watching the BBC, then there is a nearby world w in which (a) Hannah believes that Federer won by the same method and (b) Hannah's belief that Federer won by that method is insensitive. This is the case, for we already saw that Hannah's belief that Federer won is insensitive. Finally, Omar's lottery case. If Omar comes to believe that his ticket is actually not a winner by calculating the odds, then there is a nearby world in which (a) Omar comes to believe, by calculating the odds, that his ticket isn't a winner and (b) Omar's belief that his ticket isn't a winner is insensitive. Again, the condition in (K-SFSN) isn't satisfied in the lottery case from Section 2 and Omar doesn't know that his ticket is actually not a winner. Analogous considerations apply to Kayla's case but I shall spare the reader the details. Is all hunky-dory for the sensitivity theorist after all? It isn't. Accepting (K-SFSN) comes at a significant cost for the sensitivity theorist. (K-SFSN) is, after all, at best an impure or hybrid sensitivity account, merging the two competing notions of safety and sensitivity. To see this, note that while the original safety account (SAFE′) demands safety from falsehood, our novel hybrid account demands safety from insensitivity. So understood, safe sensitivity is more of a variant of safety than a variant of sensitivity, for the main explanatory work in (K-SFSN) with respect to Gettier cases and lottery examples is still done by the notion of safety. To see this in more detail, note that in Gettier cases and lottery examples the subject's beliefs fail to be safely sensitive-that is, there are nearby worlds in which the subject's beliefs are insensitive.17 The relevant worlds in which the subject's beliefs are insensitive, however, are crucially worlds in which the subject's beliefs are false. Thus, in the relevant nearby worlds, the subject's beliefs are trivially insensitive-namely, solely in virtue of being false.18 If that is so, however, then the relevant beliefs in Gettier cases and lottery examples fail to be safely sensitive only in virtue of being unsafe (false in nearby worlds). It should be clear by now that what really does the work with respect to Gettier cases and lottery examples is safety rather than safe sensitivity. What would be needed in order to motivate safe sensitivity over 17For the sake of readability I drop relativization to belief-forming methods in this paragraph. 18False beliefs are necessarily insensitive: if, in w, you believe falsely that p, then the closest world to w in which ¬p is w itself. Sensitivity, however, demands that you not believe p in w. Since you do, your belief is not sensitive. 11 and above the simpler safety condition are Gettier cases or lottery examples in which the subject believes truly in all nearby worlds, but insensitively in some. In the absence of such examples there is precious little reason to prefer (K-SFSN) over the simpler (K-SAF). Could we develop an alternative account of sensitivity that avoids the problem of necessary truths in a different way-that is, without resorting to safety? It is hard to see how alternative approaches could proceed within the framework of a modal epistemology. For it should be clear from the above discussion that in order to avoid the counterexamples from Section 2 we must include in our modal analysis nearby worlds in which the subject believes different, contingent propositions. Without the inclusion of such nearby worlds, a sensitivity constraint on knowledge will always be satisfied trivially in cases of beliefs in necessary truths. However, the inclusion in one's analysis of nearby worlds in which the subject believes differently amounts to nothing but the acceptance of a safety constraint as explicated by Williamson and Pritchard.19 5 Alternative Versions of Sensitivity Many readers will be convinced at this point that sensitivity cannot be salvaged from the above objections. Those readers can skip what follows and move straight to the conclusion. For those who insist on a detailed demonstration that alternative versions of sensitivity in the literature are also subject to my objection, I shall discuss, in this section, accounts proposed by Kelly Becker (2007), Troy Cross (2010), Keith DeRose (2010), Sanford Goldberg (2012), and an account inspired by Sherrilyn Roush's (2007). 5.1 Cross's Account To begin with, consider a principle proposed by Cross (2010: 49): (RS) Necessarily, S knows p only if: [there is a true proposition q such that: 1. q entails p, 2. S believes p on the basis of q, and 19Note also that adding unrelated, non-modal constraints that can explain the mentioned data would amount to the admission that sensitivity cannot really account for the data emerging from Gettier cases, lottery examples, and the negations of sceptical hypotheses. 12 3. S would not have believed q, had p been false].20 Cross eventually rejects (RS) and gives up on sensitivity in favour of a nonmodal principle accounting for knowledge in terms of the notion of an explanation. However, it is worthwhile discussing (RS) in some detail. To begin with, note that (RS) seems, on the face of it, to commit us to an implausibly strong form of foundationalism about knowledge. It seems rather implausible that, for every p we know, we believe that p on the basis of a q that entails p. For, surely, sometimes we know a proposition p even though our belief that p is based on a q that doesn't entail p. Inductive knowledge seems to fall into this category. Secondly, note that in cases of basic knowledge, we know a proposition p without basing our belief that p on any other belief, let alone on a proposition that entails p. My knowledge that I'm not in pain right now presumably falls into this category. Cross (2010: 49) is aware of these worries and aims to address them by allowing for the condition in (RS) to be satisfied when p=q and by interpreting the notion of believing on the basis of in (RS) in counterfactual, rather than causal terms: I have said nothing so far about "believing on the basis of" and I will not say much, because I want to leave (RS) as flexible as I possibly can. But counterfactuals will be a rough guide. If S believes p on the basis of q, then if S didn't believe q, S wouldn't believe p. This dependence needn't be causal, because p and q needn't be distinct. I want to leave it open that p=q. (2010: 49) But note firstly that this response does not resolve the problem of inductive knowledge, for inductive knowledge is precisely not based on itself. Secondly, note that if we allow for the identity of p and q and we understand the notion of belief-basing in Cross's counterfactual, non-causal way, then the classical sensitivity principle (K-SEN) from Section 1 entails (RS). To see this, note that if we allow that p=q, then condition 1 of (RS) is always trivially satisfied. But so is condition 2, given Cross's counterfactual account of believing on the basis of : surely, if S didn't believe p, S wouldn't believe p. That leaves us with condition 3. Given that p=q, however, that condition is straightforwardly equivalent to the ordinary sensitivity condition (SEN) familiar from Section 1.21 Thus, the classical formulation of sensitivity (K20Here is Cross's (2010: 49) original formulation: "Necessarily, if S knows p then, for some true proposition q: q entails p, S believes p on the basis of q, and S's belief that q is sensitive to the truth of p." 21For the sake of simplicity I'm ignoring the reference to methods in (K-SEN) here. (RS) could be reformulated accordingly, but not without making the principle more cumbersome. 13 SEN) from Section 1 entails (RS) as interpreted by Cross: any belief that is classically sensitive is also (RS)-sensitive. But if that is so, then Cross's approach inherits all the explanatory weaknesses of (K-SEN) with respect to our objections from Section 2. Since the condition in (K-SEN) is satisfied in our amended Gettier and lottery cases in Section 2, so must be the condition in (RS). Consequently, (RS) cannot explain why Hannah, Omar, and Kayla fail to know in their respective cases in Section 2. What about more restrictive interpretations of (RS) than the one intended by Cross? Assume, in what follows, a causal interpretation of belief-basing and that p 6=q. Firstly, note that, as mentioned above, (RS) is incompatible with the possibility of both basic and inductive knowledge on such an interpretation. Secondly, note that (RS) so interpreted still remains troubled by our examples from Section 2. To see this, we merely have to assume that Omar from our earlier lottery case causally bases his belief that p on his belief that q as follows: p: My ticket is actually not a winner. q: The odds that my ticket is a winner are exceedingly low. In the envisaged case conditions 1-3 of Cross's (RS) are satisfied, even on the stronger reading of (RS). To see this, note firstly that p is a necessary truth, and as such, entailed by any other proposition, including q. Secondly, by stipulation, Omar has causally based his belief that p on his belief that q. And thirdly, Omar's belief that p is sensitive to his belief that q: p is a necessary truth and one's belief that p is, therefore, sensitive to any proposition whatsoever. There is then, in Omar's case, a true proposition that satisfies all three conditions in (RS)-even if we interpret (RS) in a more demanding (and, to repeat, implausible) way than intended by Cross. Analogous considerations apply to the remaining cases involving Hannah and Kayla. In summary, (RS) can neither account for our examples in Section 2, nor is it compatible with the possibility of genuinely inductive knowledge. 5.2 A Roushian Account Consider next a closely related account that is inspired by Roush's (2007) identification of knowledge with belief deduced from sensitive belief:22 (RS′) Necessarily, S knows p only if [there is a true proposition q such that: 1. q entails p, 22I am indebted to an anonymous referee for suggesting the below account. 14 2. S believes p on the basis of q, and 3. S would not have believed q, had q been false]. The crucial difference with Cross's account is that condition 3 in (RS′) has a 'q' rather than a 'p' in its antecedent. Condition 3 is, therefore, not trivialized if p is a necessary truth. Note, however, that (RS′) remains, despite appearances, subject to the very same problems as (RS): it commits us to an implausibly strong version of foundationalism about knowledge, as it struggles to account for inductive knowledge and the possibility of basic knowledge. Moreover, (RS′) is subject to the same counterexamples as (RS). To see this assume, again, that Omar from our lottery case bases his belief that p on his belief that q, as follows: p: My ticket is actually not a winner. q: The odds that my ticket is a winner are exceedingly low. In the envisaged case, conditions 1-3 of (RS′) are satisfied: firstly, p is a necessary truth, and as such, entailed by any other proposition, including q. Secondly, by stipulation, Omar has based his belief that p on his belief that q. And thirdly, Omar's belief that q is sensitive: if the odds that his ticket is a winner weren't exceedingly low, Omar wouldn't believe that they are. Thus, there is, again, in Omar's case, a true proposition q that satisfies all three conditions in (RS′).23 5.3 DeRose's Account In recent work, Keith DeRose (2010) makes two argumentative moves in defence of sensitivity. First, he claims that the odd counterexample to classical sensitivity is not a problem for his new view as he has weakened his formulation of the sensitivity principle in a way that allows for counterexamples. Here is an initial formulation of what DeRose (2010: 163) calls an "indirect sensitivity account": (D-SEN) We tend to judge that S doesn't know that p if: [if p were false, then S would still believe p].24 23It might be objected further at this point that it is unnatural for Omar to base his belief that p on his belief that q. In fact, it might be argued that when one believes a proposition of the form @p, one always does so on the basis of one's belief that p and on that basis alone. While such a constraint on the basing relation would avoid the above objection, it is hard to see why the basing relation should be constrained in such a way. The restriction is both psychologically and epistemically implausible. 24DeRose (2010: 163): "[W]e have at least a fairly general-though not necessarily exceptionless-tendency to judge that insensitive beliefs are not knowledge." 15 Now, one might wonder whether this weaker or "indirect" account can really explain the datum that we do not know in Gettier cases as opposed to the datum that we tend to judge that we do not know in Gettier cases.25 Be that as it may, DeRose admits that while some counterexamples to classical sensitivity may not be bothersome for his new account, he would nevertheless be worried if there were further counterexamples that are similar to cases in which (D-SEN) is meant to account for our ignorance. DeRose: But not all counterexamples are equal. If a counterexample is in important ways similar to the cases [(D-SEN)] claims to explain, these can be especially damaging to [(D-SEN)], and can jeopardize its claim to have provided a good explanation. (DeRose 2010: 167) According to DeRose's own criteria, our examples from Section 2 are thus "especially damaging", for they are certainly very similar to cases in which DeRose would ordinarily want to rely on (D-SEN) for an explanation of our subjects' ignorance. What is worse, I have shown in Section 2 that for any case in which (D-SEN) might seem to explain our tendency to judge that S doesn't know p, we can easily construe an example in which the explanation doesn't work-namely, one involving the proposition @p. Thus, it isn't merely the case that DeRose's explanation fails in somewhat exotic and construed counterexamples. Rather, the explanation doesn't work in cases that are, for all intents and purposes, just as central and epistemologically important as traditional Gettier cases and lottery examples. DeRose's second move in defence of sensitivity is influenced by Cross's approach from the previous section. Here is the principle endorsed by DeRose (2010: 177-178): (RI) We tend to judge that S doesn't know that p when there is no q such that: 1. S believes q, 2. q is, for S, a ground for p, and 3. S would not have believed q, if p had been false. Similar objections to Cross's approach can be raised in response to (RI). To begin with, note again that not all knowledge is based on other beliefs. Some knowledge is basic. And again, if we interpret the notion of a ground for belief 25It should also be noted that the datum is not merely that we 'tend' to judge that we do not know in Gettier cases. The empirical data are really quite clear on the issue. See, for instance, (Nagel et al. 2013). 16 in a counterfactual, non-causal way that allows for p to be its own ground, then (K-SEN) entails (RI) for effectively the same reasons as in Cross's case: conditions 1 and 2 in (RI) are, on such an interpretation, trivially satisfied and condition 3 collapses into the classical sensitivity condition. Secondly, note again that if we interpret the grounding relation in a more substantive, causal way, then (RI) is still subject to the counterexamples from Section 2. Let me illustrate the matter this time by means of the Wimbledon case. Instantiate p and q as follows and assume that Hannah's belief that p is grounded in her belief that q: p: Federer actually just won the men's final. q: I just saw Federer win the men's final on TV. Then, first, in our case Hannah believes q; second, q is, for Hannah, a ground for believing p (Hannah believes p because of her believing q); and, third, Hannah's belief that q is sensitive to p: since p is a necessary truth, Hannah's belief that q is sensitive to p by default. Analogous reasoning applies to Omar's and Kayla's cases, but I shall spare the reader the details. In summary, neither DeRose's indirect sensitivity account nor his variant of Cross's (RS) allow him to escape our objections from Section 2. Sensitivity remains unable to account for the data emerging from 'actualized' Gettier cases, lottery examples, and cases of alleged ignorance of sceptical hypotheses. 5.4 Goldberg's Account Next, consider an account that is due to Sanford Goldberg (2012). Goldberg proposes the following principle:26 (G) Necessarily, S knows p (via method M) only if: [were M to yield a false proposition, q, as its output, then S would not employ M in belief-formation (and so wouldn't come to believe that q via M)]. While Goldberg labels his view as a version of a sensitivity account of knowledge, (G) is in spirit much closer to-if not identical to-the safety account discussed in Section 3: 26Goldberg (2012: 52): "S knows that p (via method M) only if the following condition holds: if M were to yield a false proposition, q, as its output, then S would not employ M in belief-formation (and so would not come to believe that q via M)." 17 (KSAFE′) Necessarily, S knows p (via method M) only if: [S couldn't easily have formed a false belief (via M)]. Thus, while Goldberg's view can presumably account for the actualized Gettier cases and lottery examples presented in Section 2, it can only do so in virtue of abandoning sensitivity in favour of safety. 5.5 Becker's Account Finally, consider Kelly Becker's (2007) account, which consists in the addition of a process reliabilist condition to the familiar sensitivity condition: (B-SEN) Necessarily, S knows p via method M only if: 1. If p were false, then S wouldn't believe p via M . 2. M produces a high ratio of true beliefs in the actual world and in most nearby possible worlds. (B-SEN) doesn't provide us with a way out of the predicament generated by our examples in Section 2. Those examples showed that sensitivity cannot explain certain data. Pointing out that an alternative view-process reliabilism-that we may tag on to a sensitivity account can is beside the point. Moreover, note that if process reliabilism could account for actualized Gettier cases and lottery examples, then surely it would also be able to do so in standard, non-actualized Gettier cases and lottery examples, thus rendering the sensitivity condition in (B-SEN) redundant. Finally, it should be noted that process reliabilism fails to offer a suitable response to Omar's lottery example from Section 2: Omar's belief forming method-believing that his ticket is actually not a winner on the basis of the probabilities-produces a high ratio of true beliefs in the actual world and in most nearby worlds. 6 Conclusion Contrary to what is sometimes assumed in the literature,27 the fact that beliefs in necessary truths are sensitive by default creates a serious problem for the defenders of traditional sensitivity accounts. Necessary truths are not, as some authors have suggested, different from contingent empirical truths in a way that would allow us to isolate the cases and provide a separate 27See (Roush 2012). DeRose doesn't, to the best of my knowledge, address the problem of our ignorance of necessary truths. 18 explanation of our knowledge (and ignorance) of necessary truths. Traditional sensitivity accounts are, as a consequence, struggling to successfully explain the very data that are usually considered to provide their primary motivation: bar the acceptance of an impossible worlds semantics for counterfactual conditionals-a price few will be willing to pay-it is hard to see what could resolve the problem for the sensitivity theorist. Finally, I have shown that attempts to modally strengthen traditional sensitivity accounts in order to avoid the problem must appeal to the notion of safety-the primary competitor of sensitivity in the literature. I thus conclude that, given the ease with which safety accounts resolve the difficulties discussed in this paper, we should let safety rather than sensitivity take centre stage in modal epistemology. 7 References Adams, F. and M. Clarke (2005). 'Resurrecting the tracking theories.' Australasian Journal of Philosophy 83(2): 207-221. Becker, K. (2007). Epistemology Modalized, Routledge. Blome-Tillmann, M. (2014). Knowledge and Presuppositions. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Blome-Tillmann, M. (2015). 'Solving the Moorean Puzzle.' Philosophical Studies 172(2): 493-514. Cross, T. (2010). 'Skeptical Success.' Oxford Studies in Epistemology 3: 35-62. DeRose, K. (1995). 'Solving the Skeptical Problem.' The Philosophical Review 104: 1-52. DeRose, K. (2010). 'Insensitivity is back, baby!' Philosophical Perspectives 24(1): 161-187. Goldberg, S. (2012). Sensitivity from Others. The Sensitivity Principle in Epistemology. K. Becker and T. Black. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press: 43-65. Hawthorne, J. (2004). Knowledge and Lotteries. Oxford, OUP. Kripke, S. (2011). Nozick on Knowledge. Philosophical Troubles. Oxford, OUP: 162-224. Lewis, D. (1970). 'Anselm and Actuality.' Nous 4(2): 175-188. Miller, M. (ms). Sensitivity and Impossible Worlds. Nagel, J., V. San Juan, et al. (2013). 'Lay denial of knowledge for justified true beliefs.' Cognition 129(3): 652-661. Nozick, R. (1981). Philosophical Explanations. Oxford, OUP. 19 Pritchard, D. (2005). Epistemic Luck. Oxford, Clarendon. Pritchard, D. (2007a). 'Anti-luck epistemology.' Synthese 158(3): 277-297. Pritchard, D. (2007b). Knowledge, Luck and Lotteries. New Waves in Epistemology. V. Hendricks and D. Pritchard. Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan: 28-51. Pritchard, D. (2009). 'Safety-Based Epistemology: Whither Now?' Journal of Philosophical Research 34: 33-45. Rabinowitz, D. (2014). 'The Safety Condition for Knowledge.' Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Roush, S. (2007). Tracking Truth: Knowledge, Evidence, and Science, Oxford University Press. Roush, S. (2012). Sensitivity and Closure. The Sensitivity Principle in Epistemology. K. Becker and T. Black. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press: 242-268. Schiffer, S. (1996). 'Contextualist Solutions to Scepticism.' Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 96: 317-333. Sosa, E. (1999). 'How to Defeat Opposition to Moore.' Philosophical Perspectives Epistemology 13: 141-153. Stalnaker, R. (1996). 'Impossibilities.' Philosophical Topics 24: 193-204. Stephanou, Y. (2010). 'The Meaning of 'Actually'.' Dialectica 64(2): 153185. Vogel, J. (1987). Tracking, Closure, and Inductive Knowledge. The Possibility of Knowledge: Nozick and His Critics. S. Luper-Foy. Lanham, Rowman & Littlefield: 197-215. Williamson, T. (2000). Knowledge and Its Limits. Oxford, OUP. Williamson, T. (2007). The Philosophy of Philosophy. Oxford, Blackwell. Williamson, T. (2009). 'Probability and Danger.' The Amherst Lecture in Philosophy 4: 1-35. Yalcin, S. (2015). 'Actually, Actually.' Analysis 75(2): 185-191.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
The dogmatist, Moore's proof and transmission failure Luca Moretti University of Aberdeen [email protected] ABSTRACT According to Jim Pryor's dogmatism, if you have an experience as if P, you acquire immediate prima facie justification for believing P. Pryor contends that dogmatism validates Moore's infamous proof of a material world. Against Pryor, I argue that if dogmatism is true, Moore's proof turns out to be non-transmissive of justification according to one of the senses of non-transmissivity defined by Crispin Wright. This type of non-transmissivity doesn't deprive dogmatism of its apparent antisceptical bite. Keywords: dogmatism, Moore's proof, immediate justification, direct justification, transmission failure. According to Pryor (2000, 2004)'s dogmatism, (DOGMA) If one has an experience as if P, one acquires immediate prima facie justification for believing P. Immediate prima facie justification for believing a proposition P is defeasible justification for P that is not based on–not even partly–independent justification for anything else (cf. 2000: 533). (DOGMA) is about propositional, rather than doxastic, justification (cf. 521).1 Hence 'justification' in (DOGMA), and everywhere in this article, means propositional justification. According to (DOGMA), if you have an experience as if, say, there is a plump crimson tomato here, you acquire prima facie justification for believing that there is a plump crimson tomato here that is not based on independent justification for anything else–e.g. on justification for believing that your perceptions are reliable. I present some of Pryor's reasons in support of (DOGMA) below. Note meanwhile that (DOGMA) looks natural and intuitive. (DOGMA) is also philosophically appealing because it seems capable of forming the grounds of (fallible) foundationalism, as it puts an end to the regress of justified beliefs in the search for a basis for our beliefs' justification. 1 A subject has propositional justification for a proposition P just in case P is epistemically worthy of being believed by her whether or not she believes P for the right reason or at all. 2 This paper aims to shield dogmatism from a possible criticism. Pryor (2004: 359-362) contends that (DOGMA) validates Moore's proof of a material world and he seems to see this as an antisceptical virtue of dogmatism. Since Moore's proof is widely and persistently regarded as flawed, one might fear that if the dogmatist were actually committed to accepting Moore's proof as cogent, this would be perceived as a problem rather than a virtue of dogmatism. I will not endorse dogmatism in this paper. I will confine myself to arguing that if dogmatism is true, then Moore's proof is actually flawed because it is non-transmissive of justification in one of the senses of nontransmissivity described in Wright (2002). Remarkably, this type of non-transmissivity doesn't deprive dogmatism of the antisceptical bite that Pryor thinks it has. A popular version of the sceptical argument states that: (SCEPTIC) Since you cannot have justification for believing that there is a material world (i.e. something material), you cannot have justification for believing that there is any specific material thing–for instance a hand–when you have an experience as if there is such a thing. Moore (1939)'s proof responds to (SCEPTIC) by overturning it as follows: (MOORE) (H) Here is a hand. Therefore: (W) There is a material world. Here your experience as if there is a hand (O) is supposed to give you justification for believing H. If (MOORE) is effective, once you have this justification and realise that H entails W, you thereby have justification for believing W.2 Many epistemologists feel that (MOORE) is epistemically flawed (e.g. circular or questionbegging). Pryor (2004) insists that (MOORE) isn't flawed. If you have O–according to Pryor–you acquire immediate justification for H. Once you have this justification and realise that H entails W, you thereby acquire justification for W (cf. 351). Pryor suggests that the sensed deficiency of (MOORE) reduces to the fact that (MOORE) cannot resolve antecedent doubt about its conclusion. 2 I'm following Pryor (2004) and Wright (2002)'s interpretation. 3 Suppose you doubt W. Accordingly, (given what W says) you are rationally required to doubt that O supplies justification for H. Thus, your going through (MOORE) cannot dispel your doubt about W. Pryor takes this deficiency to be a dialectical limitation of (MOORE)–one restraining its possible uses–rather than an epistemic or structural flaw of it (cf. 366-370). Wright (2002) has defined some conceptual tools that can help the dogmatist explain why (MOORE) is epistemically flawed. Let's first distinguish between closure of justification and transmission of justification. A basic formulation of the closure principle (sufficient for our purposes) says that, for any deductive argument from P to Q, if one has justification for believing P and knows that P entails Q, one has justification for believing Q. Suppose one is given evidence E in support of P. Wright says that one's justification for believing P depending on E transmits across the entailment from P to Q just in case: (i) one actually has justification for believing P from E, (ii) one knows that P entails Q, and (iii) one has a justification for believing Q just in virtue of the satisfaction of (i) and (ii) (cf. 2002: 332). Whereas closure has been seldom questioned in epistemology, it is acknowledged that transmission sometimes fails. Interesting cases of transmission failure are those in which (i) and (ii) are satisfied but (iii) isn't. In these cases one has justification for believing Q (provided that closure holds true) but not in virtue of the satisfaction of (i) and (ii). Here is an example from Wright (2003: 59). Imagine you are informed that Jessica and Jocelyn are indistinguishable twins, and consider this argument: (TWINS) J. This girl is Jessica. Therefore: N. This girl is not Jocelyn. Suppose evidence for J is your learning that (L) this girl looks just like Jessica. Given your background information, L can give you justification for believing J only if you have independent justification for believing N in the first instance. Suppose you actually have independent justification for believing N. As you learn L, you also have justification for believing J. Furthermore, you are certainly aware that J entails N. Yet it is intuitive that in this epistemic setting 4 you cannot have justification for N in virtue of your justification for believing J depending on L and your knowledge that J entails N. Following Moretti and Piazza (2013: § 3.1), let's say that a deductive argument from P to Q is non-transmissive of justification depending on E for P across the entailment just in case condition (iii) couldn't be satisfied even if conditions (i) and (ii) were both satisfied. Being non-transmissive is a different property from being a failure of transmission. Any non-transmissive argument is epistemically defective in the sense that it is structurally incapable of conveying justification to its conclusion even if its premise is justified by the relevant evidence and the conclusion is known to follow from the premise. Wright (2002) has individuated two conditions individually sufficient for non-transmissivity of justification, which can be formulated as follows: (FAIL1) E gives one justification for believing P only if this justification is based on one's independent justification for believing Q. (Cf. 332)3 (FAIL2) E supplies direct justification for believing Q. (Cf. 334-335) Any deductive argument from P to Q satisfying either condition relative to E is non-transmissive of one's justification for P depending on E. I clarify (FAIL2)'s content and workings below. An explanation of (FAIL1)'s functioning is given in Moretti and Piazza (2013: §3.2). Wright (2002) contends that (MOORE) satisfies (FAIL1) relative to O because O gives one justification for H only to the extent that this justification is based on one's independent justification for W. (MOORE) is thus non-transmissive of one's justification for H depending on O. The dogmatist cannot accept this diagnosis because it is incompatible with the thesis that O provides immediate justification for H (cf. Pryor 2004: 356). Nevertheless, it appears to me that if dogmatism is true, (MOORE) proves non-transmissive because it satisfies (FAIL2). Consider any deductive argument from P to Q that meets (FAIL2) relative to E. Saying that E gives one direct justification for believing Q is saying that E gives one justification for believing Q independently (or not in virtue) of one having justification for believing P from E and knowing that 3 This seems to be Pryor (2004)'s interpretation of Wright's condition. 5 P entails Q (cf. Wright 2002: 334). Clearly, any argument of this type is such that (iii) couldn't be satisfied even if (i) and (ii) were satisfied. Thus any such argument is non-transmissive of one's justification for P depending on E. Here is an example by Wright (cf. 333): (SOCCER) G. Jones has just scored a goal. Therefore: S. A game of soccer is taking place. Suppose evidence for G is your learning that (B) Jones has kicked the ball between the white posts and events typically accompanying soccer goals have happened alongside (e.g. the team mates' congratulations, the referee's response, etc.). On the background assumption that it is very unlikely that B is true unless S is true, B gives you justification for believing both G and S. This looks like a case in which B gives you direct justification for believing S. To see this, consider that if the justification that you have from B for S were one acquired by you in virtue of your having justification from B for G and knowing that G entails S, it would presumably be true that hadn't you had justification from B for G, you wouldn't have had justification for S. But this conditional looks false on standard counterfactual semantics because in closest possible worlds (to the imagined actual world) its antecedent is true and its consequent false. Take for instance a world in which, just before learning B, you learn that a referee's assistant has raised his flag signalling Jones' off side. Here B no longer give you justification for G and yet it still gives you justification for believing S. (Cf.: 334-335). Wright agrees that (FAIL2) illuminates why (SOCCER) is non-transmissive4 but he denies that (FAIL2) could also explain why (MOORE) is non-transmissive. Wright concedes that O would give you direct justification for W if you had independent justification for believing that (K) it is very unlikely for people to experience O unless W is true. But he suggests that in the dialectic setting of responding to the sceptic–the one surrounding the use of (MOORE)–you cannot take yourself to have justification for believing K (cf. 337). Whether or not Wright's suggestion is correct, it seems 4 (SOCCER) also satisfies (FAIL1), thus its non-transmissivity is independently explained by the satisfaction of either condition (cf. Wright 2002: 333-335). 6 to me that you don't necessarily require independent justification for K to acquire from O direct justification for W. Suppose O could give you direct justification for W coinciding with immediate justification for it. Since immediate justification is not based on independent justification for anything else, you could very plausibly have it even if you had no independent justification for K.5 I will now argue that if dogmatism is true, O gives you immediate justification for W that also qualifies as direct justification for W. To defend (DOGMA), Pryor adduces the popular thesis in current philosophy of mind that our experiences are often provided with propositional contents, where these contents 'are not about sense data or the character of our experiences. They are about manifest observable properties of objects in the world' (Pryor 2000: 539). According to this view, in other words, our experiences are typically about things represented as being non-mental or material.6 Pryor maintains that an experience with propositional content P can prima facie justify belief in P because of its assertive phenomenology characterised by 'the feeling of seeming to ascertain that [P] is true' (Pryor 2004: 357. Cf. also Pryor 2000: 547, n37). It is the assertive phenomenology of experience that provides the subject with immediate defeasible justification for believing the experience's content (cf. Pryor 2000: 538-539 and 2004: 357). It appears to me that if this is true, any subject who has an experience with content P should have immediate justification for believing P as well as any proposition constituting a part of that content. Suppose T is the proposition that there is a tomato. It is implausible that you could have an experience with just T as its content. For experiences about things in the world are typically richer than T. (This is so even if we set aside the contentious issue of non-conceptual content.) If you experience as if there is a tomato, you will have the experience as if there is a specific tomato provided with distinctive physical features. Suppose, therefore, that the actual content of your experience is the complex proposition that (C) there is a roughly spherical, small, vermilion... tomato in the middle of the whitish scenery before you. In this case, if you concentrate on the 5 A concern might be that your having independent justification for K could turn out to be a necessary though nonbasing condition for your having immediate justification for W from O. (Examples of conditions of this type are in Silins 2007.) But I can see no argument for this conclusion. 6 This doesn't beg the question against the sceptic because the contents of experience could be about what is nonexistent. 7 content of your experience as a whole, you will have the feeling of ascertaining the truth of C. But if you turn your attention to parts of the content of your experience, you will have the feeling of ascertaining the truth of more elementary propositions constituting components of C–for instance T, or the proposition that (T*) there is something roughly spherical before you. Consequently, if the phenomenology of seeming to ascertain the truth of a given proposition provides you with immediate justification for believing that proposition, the same experience that gives you immediate justification for believing C should also give you immediate justification for believing propositions like T and T* constituting parts of C.7 The dogmatist appears thus committed to maintaining that your experience can give you immediate justification for a proposition P even if your experience's content is richer than and inclusive of P. A way to render this commitment explicit is accompanying (DOGMA) with auxiliary principles such as this: (DOGMA*) If you have an experience as if there is an x that is among other things F, you have immediate prima facie justification for believing that there is an x that is F. Pryor's analysis of (MOORE) seems to rely on (DOGMA*)–or a similar principle–rather than (DOGMA). For it is implausible that your experience O, which is meant to immediately justify H, could have just H as its content. If you experience as if there is a hand, you will experience as if there is a specific hand with distinctive physical features. So H will just be a fragment of O's whole content. By appealing to (DOGMA*), the dogmatist can substantiate the claim that if you have the experience as if there is, say, a flesh-coloured, small, square... hand in the middle of the whitish scenery before you, you have immediate prima facie justification for believing that (H) there is a hand. (DOGMA*) also enables the dogmatist to claim that O gives you immediate justification for believing that (W) there is a material world. Note first that since H entails W in (MOORE), 'hand' 7 Pryor (2000: 519) stresses that you don't need to be aware of your actual experience to have justification for its content–it is sufficient that you can be so. Accordingly, you don't need to turn your attention to parts of your experience's content to have justification for the correlated propositions–it is sufficient that you can do so. 8 in H must mean material hand. Accordingly, when the dogmatist claims that O gives you immediate justification for believing H, she must be meaning that O gives you immediate justification for believing that there is a material hand. For the dogmatist, this can be the case only if when you have O, you have the feeling of ascertaining the truth of the proposition that there is a material hand. Since when you have O you have the experience as if there is something that is among other things material, via (DOGMA*), O gives you immediate prima facie justification for believing W. Consider now that since immediate justification is not based on independent justification for anything else, it is intuitively implausible that your immediate justification from O for W could exist in virtue of, among other things, the justification that O gives you for H. More concretely, consider that if your immediate justification from O for W existed just in virtue of your justification from O for H, it would presumably be true that hadn't you had justification from O for H, you wouldn't have had justification for W. But this counterfactual appears false. Take for instance a closest possible world (to the imagined actual one) in which, as you see a hand, a trustworthy friend tells you that it is just a plastic-replica. Your justification from O for H is destroyed, but the fact that you can have the feeling of ascertaining the truth of W still gives you immediate justification for believing W. Thus your immediate justification from O for W counts as direct justification for W. In conclusion, if dogmatism is true, (MOORE) fulfils (FAIL2) with respect to O. The dogmatist can maintain, accordingly, that Moore's proof is epistemically flawed because it cannot transmit to W your justification for H depending on O, since O gives you direct justification for W. This preempts the criticism that the dogmatist is committed to an intuitively flawed argument without undermining the dogmatist's ability to rebut (SCEPTIC). Acknowledgments I'm grateful to Lorenzo Casini, Tommaso Piazza, Karim Thebault and an anonymous reviewer of this Journal for comments on drafts of this paper. I'm also grateful to the Munich Center for 9 Mathematical Philosophy (MCMP) and the Von Humboldt Foundation for supporting my research through a Visiting Fellowship at the MCMP. References Moore, G. E. 1939. Proof of an External World. Proceedings of the British Academy 25: 273-300. Moretti, L. and Piazza, T. 2013. Transmission of Justification and Warrant. In E. N. Zalta (ed.), The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Winter Edition). http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2013/entries/transmission-justification-warrant/. Pryor, J. 2000. The Skeptic and the Dogmatist. Nous 34: 517–549. Pryor, J. 2004. What's wrong with Moore's argument? Philosophical Issue, 14, Epistemology: 349378. Silins, N. 2007. Basic Justification and the Moorean Response to the Skeptic. In T. S. Gendler and J. Hawthorne (eds.), Oxford Studies in Epistemology, Vol. 2, 108-140. Oxford: OUP. Wright, C. 2002. (Anti-)Sceptics Simple and Subtle: G. E. Moore and John McDowell. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 65: 330-348. Wright, C. 2003. Some Reflections on the Acquisition of Warrant by Inference. In S. Nuccetelli (ed.), New Essays on Semantic Externalism and Self-Knowledge, 57-77. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
F i l o – S o f i j a Nr 30 (2015/3), s. 261-284 ISSN 1642-3267 Marek Pepliński Uniwersytet Gdański Czy Bóg jest w mocy działać moralnie źle? „Jeśli my odmawiamy wierności, On wiary dochowuje, bo nie może się zaprzeć siebie samego." 2 Tm 2, 13 Artykuł poniższy składa się z czterech części. W pierwszej nakreślam zbiór współczesnych zagadnień, wśród których znajdują się zagadnienia trwale związane z tytułowym pytaniem/problemem, jak i takie, które wiążą się z nim raczej na zasadzie skojarzenia. Te ostatnie powinny być odróżnione od interesującego nas problemu. W części drugiej w zarysie i jedynie częściowo zaprezentuję sposób, w jaki dobroć Boga, zwłaszcza dobroć moralną, rozumiał św. Tomasz z Akwinu, wymieniając szereg jego twierdzeń i argumentów przemawiających za tymi twierdzeniami. W kolejnej części przedstawię pewien rodzaj/typ krytyki rozwiązania św. Tomasza z Akwinu, której klasyczną, dla analitycznej filozofii religii, postać możemy znaleźć w słynnym artykule Nelsona Pike'a. W czwartej części skrytykuję argumentację Pike'a, twierdząc, że jest ona niewystarczająca dla podważenia stanowiska Akwinaty i że da się wyróżnić czwarty sens, w którym prawdą jest, że wszechmocny „Bóg nie może grzeszyć", niedostrzeżony, jak się wydaje, przez analitycznego filozofa. Część pierwsza – zagadnienia dotyczące relacji Boga do dobra i zła moralnego Dlaczego ludzie, gdy myślą i mówią o Bogu teizmu, odnoszą się do Niego jako do dobrego Boga, czy nawet samego Dobra? Przyczyny tego stanu rzeczy są rozmaite, da się je podzielić na społeczne i indywidualne, mimo to wielorako splatające się ze sobą. Jeżeli zacząć od tych pierwszy, de facto pochodnych – idea oraz tematyka dobroci, w tym dobroci moralnej Boga, oraz związana z nią grupa problematyk pokrewnych, dotyczących atrybutów świętości, wszechmocy, 262 Marek PePliński woli, wolności i Opatrzności, tworzą podzbiór najważniejszych uznanych przez społeczność chrześcijańską zagadnień teologii nadprzyrodzonej oraz czerpiącej pomysły z tej ostatniej – teologii filozoficznej. Żywa teologia zawsze czerpie ze swoich żywych źródeł, miejsc teologicznych. Orzekanie o Bogu dobroci ma pierwotną genezę w osobistym spotkaniu, przez przedstawicieli Izraela, życzliwego Ducha, osobowego bytu, troszczącego się o Naród Wybrany, przejawiającego się i komunikującego w wydarzeniach o znaczeniu profetycznym. Doświadczenie to znajduje swój wyraz w tekstach Starego Testamentu, a następnie, od pojawienia się Mesjasza, nie tylko wyraz, ale i swoją kontynuację, w księgach Nowego Testamentu. Ten ostatni w znacznej mierze daje wyraz apostolskiemu doświadczeniu Jezusa Chrystusa, wyznawanego przez Jego uczniów, jako Bóg Wcielony, który przyjął ludzką naturę i naszą kondycję, z wyjątkiem grzechu, a który „Dlatego, że Bóg był z Nim, przeszedł [...] dobrze czyniąc i uzdrawiając wszystkich, którzy byli pod władzą diabła"1. Doświadczenie indywidualne dobroci Boga, obecne w życiu poszczególnych osób, oraz społecznie uznane teksty Biblii, przypisujące Bogu dobroć, doskonałość moralną i świętość, nie są jedynym źródłem tych idei, gdyż drugim, nie mniej znaczącym, jest grecka myśl filozoficzna, z jej koncepcjami bytu, doskonałości, dobra i celu. Zarówno Platon z Arystotelesem, jak i ich następcy przyczynili się do powiązania wspomnianych koncepcji. Z czasem, wraz z dokonanym przez myślicieli chrześcijańskich ujęciem Boga jako Bytu Najwyższego i Najdoskonalszego, musiało to również filozoficznymi ścieżkami doprowadzić do określenia Go jako Bytu doskonale dobrego, zarówno w sensie metafizycznym, jak i moralnym. Wiara w Boga a Jego wszechmocna dobroć Tymczasem, jak to nieraz bywa, w przypadku prób ujęcia, transcendentnej względem świata stworzeń, prostej rzeczywistości Absolutu, język ludzki i biorące w tym udział ludzkie pojęcia, generują paradoksy oraz inne problemy językowo-konceptualne, w dostarczeniu takiego – spójnego – pojmowania Boga, który byłby zarazem wszechmocnym i doskonale dobrym moralnie. Wydaje się bowiem, że byt wszechmocny jako taki jest nieograniczony co do swojej mocy i może wszystko. Jeżeli zaś może wszystko, to, twierdzą niektórzy, może zarówno działać w taki sposób, który jest moralnie godziwy, dobry i słuszny, jak i taki, który takowym nie jest, działając moralnie źle lub niesłuszne. Jeżeli zatem Bóg jest wszechmocny, to wydaje się z tego wynikać, że Bóg jest w stanie działać moralnie nagannie. Z drugiej strony, jak zauważono – Bóg teizmu uważany jest za świętego i godnego czci. Wydaje się, że jako taki nie może on swoją wolą kierować się ku złu. Przeświadczenie to znajduje wyraz na przykład w Liście św. 1 Dz 10, 38. 263 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? Jakuba 13: „Niech nikt wśród pokus nie mówi: Jestem kuszony przez Boga. Bóg bowiem nie podlega pokusie do złego, ani też sam nikogo nie kusi". Wydaje się zatem, iż stajemy wobec nieuniknionego dylematu – albo Bóg nie jest wszechmocny albo Bóg nie jest moralnie dobry w wymiarze absolutnym, to znaczy – możliwe jest, iżby Bóg czynił zło. Dylemat ten ma swój wymiar egzystencjalny, uderzający w podstawy wiary. Jeżeli bowiem Bóg nie jest wszechmocny, to czy może spełnić najgłębsze z pokładanych w Nim nadziei? A jeżeli może działać moralnie nagannie, to czy można Mu wierzyć, w płynącym z miłości zaufaniu, które usuwa lęk? Czy sama możliwość, że gdyby Bóg zechciał, to mógłby postąpić niegodziwie, nie byłaby wystarczająca, aby wiara w Boga jako Opatrznościowego Ducha, któremu można zasadnie powierzyć swoje życie, stała się niemożliwa? W tym miejscu niezbędne jest chyba zaakcentowanie znaczenia wszechmocnej dobroci Boga, Władcy – Pantokratora, a jednocześnie Opatrzności, jako warunków wiary teisty. Przypomnijmy, że wiara, w sensie ścisłym tego słowa, występuje tylko w religiach profetycznych. Jej pojęcie nie powinno być, a bardzo często ma to miejsce, redukowane do innego, oznaczającego zbiór twierdzeń, które są uznawane przez wyznawcę danej religii, czyli do tzw. wiary obiektywnej czy propozycjonalnej, sądów wiary w sensie logicznym czy też nawet ich treści. Hebrajskie he'emin, emuna, pochodzą od rdzenia 'mn – być stałym, wplatają one oprócz sensu stałości, odcień znaczeniowy prawdy (hebr. emet), jaka istnieje w postaci żywego związku między dwoma osobami. Z kolei semickie batah – „opierać się na kimś, zawierzać komuś" oznaczające akt wierzącego, odnosi się jako do wzorca, do pewnej sytuacji cielesno-duchowej dziecka, które pozwala się nieść w ramionach ojca albo matki.2 Wierzyć to złożyć swój ciężar w ramionach mocniejszego, pozwolić się nieść komuś, komu ufamy. Tym ciężarem jest życie wierzącego, który powierza, ofiarowuje siebie w ręce Boga, w ufności pozwalając się prowadzić/nieść – nie wiedząc – dokąd go Bóg poprowadzi. Wierzący – wierny – przyjmuje z ufnością zawsze zaskakujące, a niekiedy bolesne, zwroty w swoim życiu, a także w posłuszeństwu miłości czyni wolę Bożą. Ów Bóg pojęty jest jako Dobry i Wszechmocny zarazem, bowiem ten pierwszy przejaw Boga stanowi warunek i podstawę ufności w Jego życzliwość, troskę czy miłość do wierzącego. Jako Wszechmocny zaś jest w mocy „nieść" wierzącego, powierzającego się Bogu absolutnie, bezwarunkowo w świecie, w którym oczekuje Zbawiciela, zbawiającego od zła, w samym wierzącym, jak i od tego poza nim, nad którymi nie panuje, a które, ma nadzieję, zostaną ostatecznie zwyciężone, a nie kiedy przemienione w dobro, którego „triumfu" oczekuje.3 Wydaje się zatem, że tylko całkowicie Dobry i Wszechmocny zasługuje na wiarę i tylko taki Bóg może 2 Zob. hasło: Wiara, [w:] X. Léon-Dufor SJ, Słownik Nowego Testamentu, przekład i opracowanie polskie Bp K. Romaniuk, Księgarnia św. Wojciecha, Poznań 1986, s. 656. P. A. Liege, Wiara, [w:] Wprowadzenia do zagadnień teologicznych, opr. zbiorowe, Księgarnia św. Wojciecha, Poznań 1967, 451-507. 3 Zob. S. Judycki, Książeczka o człowieku wierzącym, Kolegium Filozoficzno-Teologiczne Polskiej Prowincji Dominikanów, Kraków 2014. 264 Marek PePliński ludzkiej wiary nie zawieść, a nawet jej oczekiwania czy obietnice przedziwnie wypełnić, przekraczając je w tym, co dobre, a nowe i niespodziewane. Tymczasem paradoks wszechmocy i dobroci, który wydaje się nam narzucać, zmierza do przekreślenia warunków wiary. Dopiero w świetle zarysowanego powyżej wymiaru fenomenu wiary, złożenia 'swego ciężaru', czyli swego życia w Dobrym i Wszechmocnym Bogu, można dostrzec miejsce wiary propozycjonalnej jako rezultatu ufnego przylgnięcia, ze wszystkimi tego konsekwencjami, do słowa prawdomównego, wiernego Boga, mającego pełne poznanie. Z tego aktu bierze się wyznawana przez wierzącego wiara propozycjonalna jak np. Credo chrześcijańskie oraz tegoż wiernego posłuszeństwo wiary, wypełniającego wolę Boga. Także taką wolę, która związana jest nie z radością i rozkwitaniem ludzkiego bytu wierzącego, ale z obumieraniem i niespełnieniem. Znów, gdyby nie było to posłuszeństwo „Temu, który w dobroci swej mocen jest dać życie nowe i wieczne, przemienić serce i uleczyć duszę" – byłoby ono czymś przeciwnym rozumowi i daremnym.4 Nie jest zatem tak, jak niektórzy twierdzą, że wiara w Boga Wszechmocnego jest pomyłką, z filozoficznego , rzekomo rozumiejącego punktu widzenia i że lepiej by było dla tej wiary, czy może dla tych wierzących, pozbyć się idei wszechmocy, a jednocześnie zachować ograniczony teizm, nienarażający się na zarzuty płynące z faktu zła czy paradoksów generowanych przez ludzkie pojęcia wszechmocy. Treść wiary propozycjonalnej nie może, jak widać, stać się obiektem manipulacji teoretycznej, celem uczynienia jej znośną dla świata, zwłaszcza jeżeli taka manipulacja uderza w warunki i podstawy wiary, bez których spełnienia nie jest ona sensowna i de facto możliwa. Wiara albo jest radykalna, absolutna i obdarzona ryzykiem postawienia wszystkiego, co się ma, na Jedynego, Wszechmocnego i Dobrego, albo w ogóle nie jest wiarą, lecz oszukiwaniem siebie, niedzielnym światopoglądem i kolejnym z wielu pozorów, którym ulegać ludzie tak są skłonni. W tym wypadku „wiara zaadaptowana" byłaby pozorem wiary prawdziwej. Konteksty, w których filozofia podejmuje problem dobroci Boga Zagadnienie dobroci Boga może być podejmowane przez filozofię w kontekście szeregu dociekań. W obecnej analitycznej filozofii religii można wymienić ich przynajmniej siedem. Pierwsze dwa związane są z badaniem dobroci Boga jako Jego atrybutu lub Bożego przejawu, pod względem treści tegoż atrybutu oraz jego relacji do innych atrybutów czy przejawów. To jest obszar, do którego należą 4 „A jeśli Chrystus nie zmartwychwstał, daremne jest nasze nauczanie, próżna jest także wasza wiara. Okazuje się bowiem, żeśmy byli fałszywymi świadkami Boga, skoro umarli nie zmartwychwstają, przeciwko Bogu świadczyliśmy, że z martwych wskrzesił Chrystusa. Skoro umarli nie zmartwychwstają, to i Chrystus nie zmartwychwstał. A jeżeli Chrystus nie zmartwychwstał, daremna jest wasza wiara i aż dotąd pozostajecie w swoich grzechach. Tak więc i ci, co pomarli w Chrystusie, poszli na zatracenie. Jeżeli tylko w tym życiu w Chrystusie nadzieję pokładamy, jesteśmy bardziej od wszystkich ludzi godni politowania" (1 Kor 15, 14-19). 265 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? poniższe dociekania. Badanie Boga dobroci w sobie dokonuje się zazwyczaj jako dociekanie nad zawartością idei doskonałości ontycznej Boga, ujmowanej przez pryzmat tej czy innej metafizyki bytu i koncepcji bytowej doskonałości. Jeżeli zaś chodzi o sprawę porównania przejawów, to interesujący dla filozofów jest zwłaszcza problem, czy dane rozumienie dobroci Boga jest spójne z naszym pojmowaniem wszechmocy i wolności. Przy tym, jeżeli chodzi o wszechmoc, można zwracać uwagę bądź na aspekt opatrznościowy wszechmocy Boga, czyli tzw. moce A i B, w terminologii Gijsberta van den Brinka, bądź posługiwać się koncepcją wszechmocy polegającą na posiadaniu mocy wykonania dowolnego działania, lub urzeczywistnienia dowolnego stanu rzeczy, który jest logicznie możliwy, lub taki, iż jego urzeczywistnienie przez Boga jest logicznie możliwe.5 W tym ostatnim kontekście pojawiają się rozmaite paradoksy związane z wszechmocą i wolnością Boga oraz jego doskonałą dobrocią ontyczną i moralną. Trzecim obszarem dociekań filozoficznych, w którym poruszana jest dobroć Boga, a także Jego wszechmoc, jest współczesna problematyka teodycealna, wraz z jej rozmaitymi argumentami służącymi podważaniu istnienia dobrego, wszechmocnego, wszechwiedzącego Boga.6 Zwłaszcza w średniowieczu i nowożytności problematyka tego rodzaju była podejmowana nie tyle jako dostarczająca argumentacji mającej obalić/podważyć twierdzenie o istnieniu Boga, lecz jako dociekania podważające albo broniące moralnej wartości i świętości Boga.7 Zagadnienie będące przedmiotem tego artykułu nie powinno być mylone z czwartą grupą zagadnień: czy Bóg jest źródłem dobra i zła moralnego oraz czy gdyby zechciał, mógłby sprawić, by światem rządziło inne prawo moralne? Czwartą grupę tworzą zatem zagadnienia dotyczące Boga jako źródła moralności, problemy relacji prawa naturalnego i wiecznego oraz tzw. etyki Bożych nakazów.8 Z tą grupą problemów związana jest piąta, dotycząca dobroci moralnej działania Boga jako specyficznego standardu wartości moralnej, który tylko Bóg może zrealizować, ale też który może stać się wzorcem do naśladowania w postępowania moralnym człowieka, jak ma to miejsce w zaproponowanej przez Lindę Zagzebski etyce bożej motywacji. Ta ostatnia jest jednocześnie pomyślana jako alternatywna 5 G. van den Brink, Almighty God. A Study of the Doctrine of Divine Omnipotence, Kok Pharos, Kampen 1993, s. 48-49. 6 Zob. K. Hubaczek, Bóg a zło. Problematyka teodycealna w filozofii analitycznej, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, Wrocław 2010; T. Gadacz, M. Pepliński, Teodycea, [w:] T. Gadacz, B. Milerski (red.), Religia. Encyklopedia PWN, Rut – żywotność, Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN, Warszawa 2003, t. 9, s. 241-247. 7 Zob. M. J. Murray, S. Greenberg, Leibniz on the Problem of Evil, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring 2013 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), URL = <http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2013/entries/ leibniz-evil/>. 8 Odnośnie do ostatnich kwestii zob. zwłaszcza W. J. Wainwright, Religion And Morality, Aldershot: Ashgate 2005; J. M. Idziak, Divine Command Morality: Historical and Contemporary Readings, New York: The Edwin Mellen Press 1979; A. Sagi, D. Statman, Religion and Morality, Rodopi, Amsterdam 1995. 266 Marek PePliński do etyki bożych nakazów, która omawiana jest w dyskusjach związanych z pojmowaniem Boga jako prawodawcy moralnego.9 Do dwóch ostatnich kontekstów, w których aktualnie podejmuje się kwestię dobroci moralnej Boga, należą kwestia możliwego teleologicznego zawieszenia etyki, sformułowana przez Kierkegaarda, nadal dyskutowana10, choć już nie tak popularna jak cieszący się dużą atencją problem cierpienia i współczucia Boga wobec zła, które dotyka Jego stworzenia, zwłaszcza zaś człowieka.11 Nawet z tak krótkiej prezentacji filozoficznej tematyki dobroci Boga przeziera, po pierwsze, że ta interesująca, a w opinii wielu, niezwykle ważna tematyka, jest zróżnicowana i składa się ze wzajemnie powiązanych zagadnień. Po drugie, problematyka dobroci Boga dotyczy, jeżeli wolno użyć tego rozróżnienia, kwestii ontologicznych i etycznych – zarówno tego, czym Bóg jest, jak i Jego działania. Część druga – dobroć Boga wedle św. Tomasza z Akwinu Gdy podejmuje się dowolne zagadnienie teologii filozoficznej należałoby wpierw sobie i innym wyraźnie zaprezentować, co rozumie się przez Boga, którego dotyczy czy też ma dotyczyć poruszany problem. O jakim Bogu jest mowa? Bóg jako taki nie jest przedmiotem naszego bezpośredniego poznania zmysłowego, nie jest też jednym z wielu przedmiotów w świecie. To, co np. Kowalski ma na myśli, oraz do czego się odnosi, gdy posługuje się terminem Bóg, może być bardzo odległe, od tego, co ma na myśli lub do czego odnosi się np. Smith, myśląc o Bogu. Jest to sprawa istotna szczególnie ze względu na powszechny antropomorfizm dywagacji na temat Boga, ludzką skłonność do tworzenia idoli oraz przerażającą nieraz arbitralność, z jaką wykorzystuje się ten termin w popularnych ostatnio dyskusjach przedstawicieli nauk przyrodniczych na temat Boga i religii. Skazana na niebezpieczeństwo błędu wieloznaczności i nieporozumienia jest próba rozmowy o Bogu, traktująca ten termin, czy pełnione przezeń funkcje semiotyczne, jako samozrozumiałe. Chodzi tu nie tylko o wyraźne, o ile jest to możliwe, zarysowanie znaczenia terminu „Bóg", ale też wstępne przynajmniej określenie metafizycznego przedrozumienia Boga, jakim posługuje się wypowiadający się na Jego temat. W przypadku niniejszego tekstu, gdy będzie w nim występował termin „Bóg", to będzie on odnosił się do osobowego Bytu czy Rzeczywistości, w którą wierzył Abraham, Izaak, Jakub, a także św. Paweł czy Edyta Stein, czyli do Boga teizmu judaistycznego i chrześcijańskiego. Zaś metafizyczne przedrozumienie Boga zaczerpnięte jest z metafizyki Akwinaty. Dociekania te zatem będą prowa- 9 L.T. Zagzebski, Divine Motivation Theory, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge: 2004. 10 Zob. A. Rudd, Kierkegaard and the Limits of the Ethical, Clarendon Press, Oxford 1993. 11 Paul S. Fiddes, The Creative Suffering of God, Oxford University Press, Oxford 1999; Gloria L. Schaab, Creative Suffering of the Triune God: An Evolutionary Theology, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2007. Por. T. G. Weinandy, Czy Bóg cierpi?, przeł. J. Majewski, W drodze, Poznań 2003. 267 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? dzone z perspektywy pojmowania Boga w „schemacie pojęciowym" najbardziej elementarnych części metafizyki Doktora Anielskiego. Autor ten, idąc za tradycją św. Augustyna i Boecjusza, utożsamia dobro z bytem, a doskonałą dobroć przypisuje Bogu pojętemu jako Czysty Byt, Czystemu Aktowi Istnienia, w którym nie ma realnej wielości w postaci samodzielnych lub względnie samodzielnych elementów ontycznych oraz subontycznych. Czysty Akt Istnienia jest niezłożony z formy i materii oraz nie ma w nim niezaktualizowanych potencjalności. Dobroć przypisuje się Bogu z trzech powodów: ze względu na Jego sprawczość; ze względu na jego doskonałość ontyczną i ze względu na sposób Jego działania. Pierwszy sposób, ze względu na sprawczość, można unaocznić następująco. W rozumowaniach zwanych pięcioma drogami (sposobami) poznania istnienia Boga, św. Tomasz z Akwinu zmierza do uzasadnienia twierdzenia o istnieniu Pierwszej Przyczyny jako Czystego Aktu i tym samym Boga, poprzez wyjaśnienie rzeczywistości bytów przygodnych pochodnością od Istnienia Czystego. Jest ono Intelektem, skoro byt pochodny od Niego jest racjonalny. Skoro pochodne od Boga byty są przygodne, nie musiały zostać przezeń stworzone. Jeżeli zatem zaistniały, co ma miejsce, a działanie Boga jest rozumne, to są one chciane, i dlatego mogą być określone jako dobre akcydentalnie, zgodnie z arystotelesowską koncepcją dobra. Wszystko co powstało i istnieje, każdy substancjalny byt przygodny, istnieje dlatego, że Bóg chce, aby istniał. Nie należy z tego wnosić, że, posługując się inną terminologią, Bóg chce wszystkich i każdego stanu rzeczy, jaki faktycznie zachodzi wśród bytów stworzonych. Dobroć bytów stworzonych jako skutków kreatywnej aktywności Stwórcy partycypuje w Jego dobroci jako ich Przyczyny sprawczej, celowej i wzorczej, w której Dobroć owa jest doskonała, choć nierealizowana, to zrealizowana, w stopniu najwyższym. Bóg jest swoją Dobrocią. Po drugie, Tomasz z Akwinu orzeka o Bogu dobroć, ze względu na doskonałość ontyczną – Bóg jest maksymalnie dobry, ponieważ jest maksymalnie doskonały ontycznie. W Sumie filozoficznej (SCG, I, 37) nawiązując do poglądów Arystotelesa (Fizyka VII, 246a13-14), stwierdza, że wszelka rzecz jest dobra przez to, że jest doskonała. Każda rzecz posiada wszelką doskonałość odpowiednio do swego istnienia (SCG, I, 28). Rzecz jest zatem bardziej lub mniej doskonała w tej mierze, w jakiej istnienie rzeczy jest ograniczone różną odeń, potencjalną naturą. W Bogu, jako Akcie Czystym, wykluczone jest jakiekolwiek złożenie i tym samym wykluczona jest jakakolwiek niedoskonałość ze złożenia płynąca. Czysty Akt istnienia posiada całą moc istnienia. Dlatego, twierdzi Tomasz, jest bytem doskonałym pod każdym względem, czyli takim, któremu nie brak doskonałości żadnego rodzaju. Argumentacja Akwinaty za doskonałością ontyczną Boga odwołuje się do prostoty Aktu Istnienia: jako pełny, nieograniczony Akt Istnienia nie ma w sobie żadnego braku i żadnego nieistnienia, zatem jest w pełni doskonały – doskonałością jako „brakiem" dowolnego braku w bycie. Dalej, ze względu na całkowitą aktualność, jest najdoskonalszym bytem, jeżeli każda rzecz jest doskonała, w takiej mierze, 268 Marek PePliński w jakiej jest w akcie, a nie w potencji. Trzeci argument wskazuje na przyczynowość Boga. Skoro jest On przyczyną sprawczą wszystkich rzeczy przygodnych, to wszystko, co jest urzeczywistnione w jakiejkolwiek innej rzeczy, musi znajdować się w sposób o wiele bardziej doskonały w Bogu. Nie jest bowiem możliwe, aby skutek był doskonalszy niż jego przyczyna sprawcza. Dlatego też doskonałość Boga i doskonałości stworzeń nie mogą być rozumiane jednoznacznie, zachodzi tu jedynie, najmniej doskonałe, podobieństwo formy tego, czym są – Bóg oraz Jego stworzenia. Wreszcie Akwinata argumentuje też z pochodności doskonałości stworzeń od doskonałości Stwórcy. Dla dowolnego rodzaju x istnieje coś w nim najdoskonalszego, co jest miarą rzeczy należących do rodzaju x. Rzecz jest bardziej lub mniej doskonała, im bardziej lub mniej zbliża się do miary swojego rodzaju. Jeżeli chodzi o bytowość, to Bóg jako Istnienie Czyste jest miarą wszystkich bytów – nie brak mu zatem pod względem ontycznym żadnej doskonałości, które przysługują rzeczom. Co jest warte podkreślenia, omawiany autor ilustruje to odpowiedzią Boga daną Mojżeszowi na prośbę, aby mógł ujrzeć oblicze Pana: „Ja ci ukażę wszelkie dobro" (Wyj 33,19) przez co, jak sugeruje św. Tomasz, dane zostało Mojżeszowi do zrozumienia, że jest w Bogu pełnia dobroci. Jest oczywiste, że w tym miejscu św. Tomasz utożsamia dobroć bytu z jego doskonałością.12 Należy zauważyć, że w sprawie relacji między Bogiem a dobrocią Tomasz z Akwinu, stwierdza, m.in., trzy ważne rzeczy. Po pierwsze, skoro, co już przed chwilą zauważono – Bóg jest swoją Dobrocią, to Bóg jest dobry esencjalnie. Po drugie, jest on źródłem wszelkiej dobroci różnej od Niego. Wreszcie jest On dobrem najwyższym. Wniosek pierwszy wynika z doktryny prostoty Boga, która skutkuje tezą o tożsamości Boga ze swoją naturą i wszystkimi atrybutami. Akwinata argumentuje w następujący sposób. Skoro Bóg jest identyczny ze swoim istnieniem, a dobrocią danego bytu jest jego rzeczywistość i istnienie, to Bóg jest identyczny ze swą dobrocią. W podobny sposób uzasadnia to, odwołując się do identyczności Boga z Jego doskonałym istnieniem, a zatem Jego doskonałość jest z nim tożsama. Jeżeli zaś dobroć jest identyczna z doskonałością, to Bóg jest tożsamy ze swą dobrocią. Z teorii partycypacji bytów w Bogu wypływają dwa inne argumenty za tą identycznością. Dobro, które nie jest ze sobą identyczne, jest dobrem przez partycypację, jednak łańcuch partycypacji nie może być, twierdzi Akwinata, nieskończony i czwarta droga pokazuje, że konieczne jest przyjęcie istnienia Dobra esencjalnego, w którym partycypują inne dobra, a jest nim Bóg. Po drugie, uczestnictwo w czymś wymaga potencji, zaś Czysty Akt istnienia nie może w niczym uczestniczyć, zatem jeżeli jest dobry, to jest identyczny ze swą dobrocią. Ujęcie poznawcze partycypacji, które pozwala argumentować za esencjalną dobrocią Boga, pozwala też uzasadnić kolejne twierdzenie Tomasza należące do jego metafizyki dobroci Boga, a mianowicie, że jest On źródłem wszelkiego 12 Tomasz z Akwinu, Summa contra gentiles. Prawda wiary chrześcijańskiej w dyskusji z poganami, innowiercami i błądzącymi, t. I, przeł. Z. Włodek i W. Zega, W drodze, Poznań 2003, I, 28, s. 95. 269 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? dobra. Każdy byt jest dobry dobrocią Boga, która jest mu udzielona. Znajduje to trojakie uzasadnienie. Dobro orzeka się o celu oraz wtórnie o tym, co do celu jest skierowane. Celem ostatecznym jest to, ku czemu jest wszystko skierowane i od czego ostatecznie otrzymuje swoją dobroć. A ponieważ Bóg jest celem ostatecznym wszystkiego, zatem jest i dobrem wszelkiego dobra stworzonego. Zatem w dobroci Boga jako celu partycypują dobra przygodne. Po drugie, każda rzecz, która partycypuje w dobru Boga, jest dobra w tej mierze, w jakiej nosi w sobie podobieństwo do dobroci Boga. Wreszcie, skoro Bóg zawiera w swej doskonałości doskonałości wszelkich stworzeń, a dobroć rzeczy polega na jej doskonałości, to Bóg obejmuje w swej dobroci dobro wszelkich stworzeń. Wszelkie zatem dobro stworzone jest dobre dzięki udziałowi w dobroci swej Przyczyny Wzorczej i Celowej. Bóg jest też dobrem najwyższym. Akwinata uzasadnia to twierdzenie ze względu na analogię relacji przewyższania dobra powszechnego do dóbr szczegółowych oraz relacji esencjalnej dobroci Boga do dobroci przez partycypację. Ponadto, esencjalna, naturalna dobroć Boga ugruntowuje to, że nie ma w Nim zła ani w potencji, ani też jakiegokolwiek zła urzeczywistnionego. Pojawienie się w bycie Boga zła jest sprzeczne z Jego esencjalną dobrocią i równałoby się zniszczeniu bytu Boga, co jest niemożliwe. Ponieważ zło jest pewnego rodzaju niedoskonałością, nie może ono charakteryzować bytu, który jest pod każdym względem doskonały. Z tych powodów dobroć Boga jest najwyższą dobrocią. Wracając do trzeciej racji orzekania o Bogu dobroci – św. Tomasz z Akwinu orzeka o Bogu dobroć ze względu na sposób Jego działania. Podobnie jak twierdzenie o esencjalnej dobroci Boga, ma to bezpośrednią wagę dla kwestii paradoksu wszechmocy i dobroci. Akwinata, przypisując Bogu esencjalną i najwyższą dobroć, uważa zarazem, iż doskonałość i dobroć przysługują Mu ze względu na Jego działanie, czyli w sensie moralnym. Bóg mianowicie nie może chcieć zła. Skoro Bóg zawiera w sobie doskonałości wszelkich bytów, a dobroć ugruntowana jest w doskonałości, to Jego dobroć zawiera też, twierdzi autor Sumy przeciw poganom, wszystkie rodzaje dobroci. Ponieważ zaś pewnym rodzajem dobroci jest cnota, to dobroć Boga zawiera w sobie wszelkie cnoty, ale nie jako przypadłości – sprawności, lecz w swej istocie. Bóg „zawiera w sobie" cnoty moralne odnoszące się do działania, o ile nie zakładają one jakiejś niedoskonałości czy innego warunku niezgodnego z boską naturą. Bóg zawiera też cnoty kontemplacyjne. Jeżeli zatem Bóg jest identyczny ze swoim cnotliwym działaniem, to dobroć tego działania jest pełna i Bóg nie może chcieć zła. Ponadto w działaniu podmiot działania skłania się ku działaniu moralnie nagannemu z tej racji, że jawi się ono mu jako dobro, gdyż przedmiotem woli jest dobro poznane. To zaś jest błędem, który w Bogu jest wykluczony ze względu na Jego wiedzę. Dlatego też wola Boga nie może chcieć zła. Również fakt, iż najwyższe dobro wyklucza zło oraz dlatego, że celem woli jest dobro, a chcenie zła jest odwróceniem się woli od swojego celu, wykrzywieniem jej działania, powodują, że Bóg nie może chcieć zła moralnego. Bóg bowiem nie może chcieć inaczej niż chcąc siebie, ponieważ 270 Marek PePliński przedmiotem Jego woli jest Jego własne dobro, a skoro chcąc siebie, chce zawsze dobra, nie może pragnąć zła.13 Ten element doktryny dotyczącej dobroci Boga, który, tak się historycznie składa, jest m.in. elementem teologii filozoficznej św. Tomasza, bywa obiektem ataków współczesnych teologów filozoficznych. Kwestii poprawności i skuteczności klasycznego przykładu takiego ataku, mianowicie argumentacji Nelsona Pike'a, poświęcona jest ostatnia część tego artykułu. Poprzedzi ją przedstawienie samej argumentacji wybitnego filozofa analitycznego. Część trzecia – argumentacja Pike'a, że wszechmocny i dobry Bóg może grzeszyć Najbardziej znaną i istotną dla tego problemu argumentację zaproponował w roku 1969 Nelson Pike w artykule pt. „Wszechmoc i zdolność Boga do grzechu".14 Argumentacja ta odwołuje się do wspomnianej już rzekomej niespójności wszechmocy Boga z Jego doskonałą dobrocią moralną, pojętą jako niezdolność do postępowania moralnie złego, ujętą językowo przez Pike'a, zresztą zgodnie z tradycją, jako niezdolność do grzechu. Formułując swoją argumentację w tej kwestii, Pike przyjmuje explicite pięć założeń. Po pierwsze, termin „Bóg", tak jak funkcjonuje on w języku religii chrześcijańskiej, jest deskrypcją określoną, a nie imieniem własnym. Jest to specyficzny typ deskrypcji – pełni on, zgodnie z określeniem Pike'a, funkcję tytułowania, czyli jest to termin, którym orzeka się zajmowanie pewnej pozycji czy wartościowego statusu. Zatem stwierdzić o pewnym indywiduum, że jest Bogiem, to tyle, co stwierdzić, że cieszy się ono pewnym wartościowym statusem – np. jest bytem, ponad którego nic większego nie może być pojęte albo też, że zajmuje pewną pozycję – np. jest Panem Wszechświata („He is Ruler of the Universe"). Po drugie, atrybuty orzekane o pewnym indywiduum x będącym Bogiem w formułach typu: „jeżeli x jest Bogiem, to x jest wszechmocny" orzekane są z koniecznością logiczną, czyli tego typu formy zdaniowe są prawdami logicznie koniecznymi. Logicznie koniecznym warunkiem tytułowania x Bogiem jest jego doskonała dobroć, wszechmoc, wszechwiedza i wszelkie inne atrybuty, które tradycyjnie przypisywane są Bogu w chrześcijaństwie. Po trzecie, jest logicznie możliwe, że dla dowolnego indywiduum, które posiada atrybut doskonałej dobroci, może ono go nie posiadać. Innymi słowy, jest logicznie możliwe, dla dowolnego x-a, które posiada pewien wyróżniony wartościowy status czy pozycję Boga, że nie posiadałby tego statusu czy pozycji, o ile nie byłby (przestałby być?) doskonale dobrym. Jest to zaskakujące założenie Pike'a 13 SCG, I. 95, s. 243. 14 N. Pike, Omnipotence and God's ability to sin, „American Philosophical Quarterly" 6 (1969), 3, s. 208-216. 271 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? i nie jest oczywiste, jak należy je rozumieć. Autor ten tłumaczy te sformułowania następująco. Po pierwsze, posiadanie przez x atrybutu doskonałej dobroci D moralnej jest logicznie przygodne, w tym sensie, że nie jest logicznie wykluczone, że ~D(x). Nie jest to koniecznie fałszywe, w logicznym sensie konieczności. Pomijając brak określenia konieczności logicznej, rzecz wydaje się być jasna i zrozumiała. To, że pewne x mogłoby nie posiadać atrybutu D, nie jest logicznie sprzeczne. Jak to jednak pogodzić z wcześniejszą deklaracją, że indywiduum, które nosi tytuł Boga, zasługuje na ten tytuł, posiada z konieczności doskonałą dobroć (i dowolny inny atrybut klasycznego teizmu)? Pike wprost stwierdza, wyjaśniając w dalszym ciągu, co ma na myśli, że to, czy pewne indywiduum, np. Jahwe, jest doskonale dobre moralnie, jest sprawą logicznie przygodną i tym samym, że logicznie jest możliwe dla dowolnego indywiduum, w tym Jahwe, że nie jest Bogiem / nie nosi tytułu „Bóg". Wydaje się, że jedynym niesprzecznym sposobem rozumienia tego, co twierdzi Pike jest przyjęcie, że dla dowolnego x-a, będącego moralnie doskonałym, w rzeczywistości może ono nie mieć takiego statusu w tym sensie, że aktualne posiadanie tego statusu jest przygodne. Inaczej nie ma sensu twierdzenie, że jest to logicznie możliwe, gdyby logiczna możliwość posiadania przez x-a odmiennego statusu, od tego, który de facto posiada, była niesprzeczna z niemożliwością realnego posiadania przez x-a odmiennego statusu niż de facto posiada. Tym samym dla dowolnego x-a, który spełnia warunki noszenia tytułu Bóg/jest Bogiem, takie jak doskonała dobroć moralna (ale i wszystkie inne), możliwe jest, że nie spełniałby tego warunku. Jeżeli zaś, na mocy konieczności logicznej, Bóg jest doskonale dobry, to oznacza to, że dla dowolnego x-a będącego Bogiem jest możliwe logicznie, że nim nie jest. I znów podobnie, wydaje się, że nie ma sensu orzekania takiej logicznej możliwości o x-ach, o ile dla każdego z nich nie było realnie możliwe, aby nie cieszyłyby się statusem, którym się cieszą (nawet, jeżeli jest tylko jeden taki x, albo żaden, mówimy tu o warunkach formalnych, a nie materialnych). Wydawałoby się zatem, że tak należy interpretować wypowiedzi Pike'a. To co twierdzi on w dalszym ciągu, jest jednak z taką interpretacją, przynajmniej na tzw. pierwszy rzut oka, niespójne. Możliwe jest zatem logicznie, że Jahwe nie jest moralnie dobry i w związku z tym Jahwe nie cieszy się statusem oznaczanym terminem Bóg (tytułem Bóg) koniecznie, a jedynie przygodnie logicznie. Pike zastrzega wprost, że nie sugeruje tym samym, iż zachodzi materialna możliwość, że Jahwe nie jest moralnie doskonale dobry, a jedynie wskazuje na odmienność logiczną formuł, prezentowanych tak, jak je sam Pike konstruuje: A. „Jeżeli x jest Jahwe, to x jest doskonale moralnie dobry." B. „Jeżeli x jest Bogiem, to x jest doskonale moralnie dobry." Tylko forma zdaniowa B jest konieczna logicznie. Sprawa ta jest dyskusyjna. Wątpliwość budzi, z jednej strony, jedynie logiczna możliwość, w moim ujęciu, 272 Marek PePliński przygodność logiczna tytułowania x-a Bogiem. Z drugiej, odmienne traktowanie form zdaniowych A i B i podstawy, dla których powinno to być przyjęte. Pike nie argumentuje za tymi założeniami.15 Czwartym założeniem omawianego autora, jest kwestia jak należy pojmować termin „wszechmoc". Pike uważa, że wszechmoc jako określająca Boga powinna być pojmowana w sposób ograniczony. Zakres wszechmocy nie zawiera w sobie zatem wykonywania czynności lecz tylko akty mocy kreacyjnej. Dla eksplikacji, co ma na myśli podaje przykłady czynności, których Bóg może nie wykonywać w swej wszechmocy. Mianowicie nie musi On pływać albo jeździć na rowerze. Warto tu zwrócić uwagę, że obie przykładowe czynności są rodzaju wymagającego od Boga bycia cielesnym czy posiadania ciała. Tylko bowiem ciała mogą pływać albo przemieszczać się rowerem. Obie czynności również wymagają, aby Bóg był przedmiotem w świecie i działał wewnątrz świata jako jedna z jego sił. Interesujące są motywy dokonania takiego obostrzenia. Czy Pike chce narzucić je na wszechmoc czy na wszechmoc Boga? Omawiając rzecz zaczyna od pojęcia wszechmocy, ale szybko przechodzi, posiłkując się sformułowaniami Akwinaty, do wszechmocy Boga. Można by zasugerować, że zastrzeżenie powyższe bierze się z chęci uniknięcia sytuacji, gdzie w zakresie wszechmocy Boga umieszcza się niedorzeczność – działanie, którego wykonanie wymaga spełnienia warunku, którego spełnienie jest niemożliwe ze względu na sprzeczność z naturą bytu, którego ewentualna wszechmoc jest dyskutowana. Sprawa ta wielokrotnie była przedmiotem dyskusji w myśli średniowiecznej. Wydawałoby się, że takie mogą być też motywy Pike'a, omawiającego całą sprawę w nawiązaniu do artykułu „Omnipotence" autorstwa J. A. McHugh'a, który wprost wyklucza z zakresu wszechmocy działania, które są wewnętrznie niemożliwe, a do których zalicza, m.in., działania, które są niezgodne z naturą Boga i Jego atrybutami.16 Jednak z drugiej strony Pike wyraźnie nie chce pojmować wymogu spójności jako dotyczącego działania, a nie jedynie jego skutków. Pike jako swój motyw przyjęcia takiego ograniczenia podaje odpowiedniość tego ograniczenia ze sposobem funkcjonowania terminu „wszechmoc" w potocznym i technicznym, teologicznym języku chrześcijaństwa. Zgodnie z tym, wszechmoc Boga polega na Jego mocy wytworzenia czegokolwiek, co jest absolutnie możliwe, gdzie warunkiem „absolutnej możliwości" jest, aby to, co oznacza powyższy zwrot, było logicznie spójne. Zwróćmy uwagę, że w tym wypadku Pike odchodzi od takiego rozumienia wszechmocy Boga, w którym to egzekucja mocy Boga, skutkująca tym a tym, sama musi być logicznie spójną. Pike spójność logiczną orzeka wyłącznie o skutkach/ przedmiotach działania Boga – „He can bring about any consistently describable object or state of affairs"17. 15 À propos drugiego odsyła jedynie do częściowego uzasadnienia, które znajduje w innej pracy C. B. Martin'a, Religious Belief, Cornell University Press, Ithaca 1965, r. 4, s. 33-63. 16 J. A. McHugh, Omnipotence, The Catholic Encyclopedia, Robert Appleton company, Vol. XI. 17 N. Pike, op. cit., s. 209. 273 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? Ostatnim założeniem Pike'a jest przykład stanu rzeczy, takiego, że jest jasnym, że spowodowanie go przez pewne indywiduum jest moralnie nagannym, a który jest logicznie spójnie opisywalny. Przedstawmy sobie niewinne dziecko, które powoli umiera, podlegając torturom śmierci głodowej. Niech zdarzenie to będzie do uniknięcia oraz żadne większe dobro nie wypływa z racji jego wystąpienia. Dziecko to i jego rodzice nie dokonali żadnej zbrodni, za którą ono lub jego rodzice mogliby być słusznie ukarani i zdarzenie to nie jest taką karą. Precyzyjne postawienie problemu przez Pike'a Wspomniane pięć założeń pozwala Pike'owi sformułować problem z większą niż dotychczasowa precyzją. Bóg jest wszechmocny. Jest prawdą konieczną, że x będące Bogiem, jest w stanie spowodować dowolny opisywalny w spójny sposób stan rzeczy. Może on zatem spowodować właśnie opisany spójny stan rzeczy, którego spowodowanie byłoby moralnie naganne. Jako Bóg jest jednocześnie moralnie dobry w stopniu doskonałym. To również jest prawdą konieczną logicznie, przy hipotetycznym sformułowaniu danej formuły. Nie może zatem działać w moralnie naganny sposób. Zatem nie może spowodować powyżej opisanego stanu rzeczy. Wydaje się, że istnieje logiczna sprzeczność pomiędzy boską wszechmocą i boską wszechwiedzą, bowiem jeżeli Bóg jest wszechmocny i doskonale dobry, to pewne stany rzeczy spójnie opisywalne są takie, że Bóg zarazem może i nie może ich spowodować. Pike nie rozważa pojawiającego się tu momentalnie problemu, że stany te w relacji do Boga okazują się niespójne, tzn. mające sprzeczne opisy. Jest to być może efektem bycia konsekwentnym w ograniczaniu wymogu spójności opisu do samego stanu rzeczy/obiektu, nie zaś do relacji powodowania go, a być może to po prostu Pike'owi umknęło. Konkluzją, na tym etapie argumentacji Pike'a, jest taka, że postawiony przezeń problem konfliktu między atrybutami dobroci i wszechmocy jest znacznie poważniejszy niż stawiany tzw. problem zła. O ile bowiem argumentacja w tym ostatnim zmierza do wykazania, że przygodnie jest fałszem, że wszechmoc i dobroć doskonała są posiadane przez pewne indywiduum, to zarzut sformułowany przez Pike'a ma wykazywać, że jest niemożliwe logicznie, aby istniało indywiduum, które jest zarazem wszechmocne i doskonale dobre. Pike krytykuje argumentację św. Tomasza z Akwinu z Sumy Teologicznej, wybierając pewne fragmenty tego dzieła. Po pierwsze rozważa odpowiedź na drugi zarzut w kwestii 25 artykule 3 części I, w której Tomasz w duchu Anzelma i Lombarda sugeruje, że właśnie dlatego, że Bóg jest wszechmogący, to nie może on dokonać działania moralnie nagannego. Działanie moralnie naganne bierze się bowiem z jakiejś słabości. Jak wcześniej zostało to zaprezentowane, Akwinata wykluczał możliwość takiej słabości i odpowiednio, moralnie nagannego działania, podając trzy racje takiej niemożliwości. Po pierwsze, jest nią pełna cnotliwość działania Boga, po drugie, niemożliwość błędu poznawczego stojącego u podstaw niesłusznego moralnie, czy nawet moralnie złego działania. Wreszcie, po trzecie, 274 Marek PePliński działanie takie jest niemożliwe ze względu na „sposób działania" woli Boga, która nie może chcieć zła, ponieważ nie wybiera pomiędzy dobrem a złem, a jej przedmiotem jest ten czy inny sposób udzielenia temu czy innemu stworzeniu dobroci, którą jest ona sama. W tym sensie wola Boga nie może uleć wykrzywieniu, nie może „zboczyć z kierunku", którym jest czynienie dobra czy, stawiając rzecz poprawniej, a mniej intuicyjnie językowo – dobroć sama. Zdaniem Pike'a tego typu wyjaśnienie średniowiecznych autorów, uznające czynienie zła za wyraz słabości, nie jest przekonujące, ponieważ można odróżnić pomiędzy mocą sprawiania pewnego stanu rzeczy oraz mocą/słabością moralną polegającą na wykonywaniu odpowiedniego działania. Nie istnieje też, twierdzi Pike, jakaś sprzeczność czy trudność pojęciowa w pojęciu diabolicznego bytu wszechmocnego. Pike milcząco wyklucza możliwość, że wszechmoc nie należy do zbioru uniwersaliów i że jest/może być tylko jeden Byt Wszechmocny, którego wszechmoc jest wszechmocną esencjalną dobrocią. W takim wypadku jest po prostu niemożliwe wewnętrznie, dla takiej wszechmocy, a tym samym, dla wszelkiej, żeby była elementem natury bytu diabolicznego. Dlaczego Pike sądzi, że taki wszechmocny i zły byt jest możliwy? Czy dlatego, że da się odróżnić pomiędzy pojęciami moralnej siły oraz mocy stwórczej? A z tego zdaniem Pike'a wynika, że z wszechmocy x nie wynika, że x nie może działać moralnie nagannie, bowiem działanie moralnie naganne nie jest zdaniem Pike'a brakiem mocy, wprost przeciwnie. Nic nie stoi na przeszkodzie, aby byt wszechmocny był moralnie słaby, jeżeli wszechmoc bierzemy w zaproponowanym przez Pike'a sensie. Może jednak – można by zwrócić się do Pike'a – jest coś poważnie nieprzekonującego w uznaniu, że byt wszechmocny jest pod pewnym względem słaby, i to nie byle względem, ale pod względem istotnym dla osoby – moralnie słaby? Może pojęcie diabolicznego bytu wszechmocnego jest wewnętrznie sprzeczne? Może zdolność do działania moralnie nagannego skutkującego pewnymi stanami rzeczy, takimi jak przykładowy Pike'a, a którego to rodzaju działania warunkiem jest pewna słabość poznawcza lub moralna (wolitywna), wzięta wraz z jej warunkami, powinna być określana właśnie jako słabość, a nie moc? Wydaje się, że wszystko zależy tu od opisu sytuacji, o którą chodzi. Przynajmniej dla niektórych działań istnieje bowiem więcej niż jeden opis. Pewne działanie może być także częścią innych działań. Nie jest tak, że dane działanie winno być opisywane wyłącznie w kategoriach jego skutków. Oczywiście możliwe jest takie ograniczenie opisu, jednak będzie ów opis właśnie ograniczonym, niebiorącym pod uwagę całości. Jeżeli uwzględnimy, że opis działania nie ogranicza się do skutku, lecz uwzględnia m.in. komponent warunku działania i sposobu wykonania po stronie działającego, to przy tym samym skutku ocena, czy działanie stanowi wyraz mocy, czy niemocy, może wypaść odmiennie. Może tak być w przypadku działania moralnie złego, które jest np. ekspresją mocy fizycznej, a jednocześnie braku poznania albo braku dobrej woli. Przykładowo, działanie agresywne, mogące skutkować czyjąś krzywdą fizyczną, spowodowane lękiem sprawcy przed analogiczną agresją, jest 275 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? uważane nie za wyraz mocy sprawcy, lecz słabości. Nikt nie podważa przy takiej ocenie zdolności do działań agresywnych, ani zdolności sprawiania uszkodzeń fizycznych przez sprawcę. Jednak egzekucję takiej mocy uważa się za wyraz słabości i czyni się tak nieprzypadkowo. Jeszcze wyraźniej widać to w sytuacji uzależnienia. Osoba paląca i niemogąca powstrzymać się od palenia posiada moc zapalenia papierosa, podobnie jak osoba paląca, która potrafi się powstrzymać od egzekucji mocy zapalenia papierosa. Obie osoby dysponują taką samą rodzajowo mocą fizycznego sprawiania pewnego spójnego logicznie stanu rzeczy, mianowicie wypalenia papierosa, jednak tylko jedna z nich dysponuje mocą niepalenia papierosa w pewnych okolicznościach. Fakt ten ma zasadnicze znaczenie dla naszej oceny mocy obu palaczy. W przypadku bytu, który ma charakter diaboliczny, to właśnie ten charakter powoduje, że wiele czynności należących do klasy działań moralnie dobrych będzie dla tego bytu niedostępna. Te dwie, powiązane sprawy – oceny mocy niewyłącznie w kategoriach skutków czynów oraz niedostępności przynajmniej niektórych działań/skutków opisywanych spójnie w kategoriach moralnego dobra i słuszności dla rzekomo wszechmocnego bytu diabolicznego – powinny być przez Pike'a wzięte pod uwagę. Mówiąc inaczej, czy konsekwencja zaprzeczenia tym, przynajmniej intuicyjnie przekonującym sądom, wspomnianym na początku poprzedniego akapitu, nie powinna skłonić Pike'a do zrewidowania pierwotnej definicji wszechmocy? Pike tak nie uważa, w każdym razie nie rozważa tej drogi, zadowalając się stwierdzeniem braku dostrzegania sprzeczności w pojęciu diabolicznego bytu wszechmocnego. Jednak fakt, że Pike czegoś nie dostrzega, jest niesprzeczny z zachodzeniem tego czegoś. Tym bardziej powinno to zostać wzięte pod uwagę, że możliwe jest przeciwne stanowisko, a możliwość ta nie została przez Pike'a wykluczona. Tym samym, stawiając zarzut najsłabiej, wydaje się, że Pike po prostu przesądza, iż diaboliczny byt wszechmocny jest możliwy logicznie. Samo odróżnienie mocy sprawiania stanu rzeczy i słabości moralnej – niemocy moralnej polegającej na sprawianiu tego stanu rzeczy oraz po prostu potraktowanie, jak czyni to Pike, tej drugiej jako nieistotnej dla problemu oceny całościowej mocy x-a, albo nawet redukowanie słabości do mocy, co Pike czyni, nie jest argumentem za taką możliwością, ani też za pomijaniem przy ocenie mocy pewnego bytu sprawy jego (nie) zdolności czynienia dobra i zła. Dlatego należy stwierdzić, że Pike nie dostarczył wystarczającej argumentacji, aby podważyć obronę Anzelma, Lombarda i Tomasza, że czynienie zła moralnego jest wyrazem niemocy, i że tylko forma języka skłania nas do uważania niemożliwości czynienia takiego zła u Boga za brak w mocy. Pike'a krytykuje również Akwinaty interpretację twierdzenia Arystotelesa, że Bóg mógłby czynić zło, jeżeli by tego chciał, choć niemożliwe jest, by tego chciał, znajdując ją nieprzekonującą oraz dokonuje analizy mającej wykazać, że o Bogu orzeka się dobroć moralną w tym samym minimalnym, elementarnym sensie, w jakim orzeka się ją o człowieku. W związku z tym, co sprzeciwia się dobroci Sokratesa, sprzeciwia się też dobroci doskonałej Boga i takie rozumienie 276 Marek PePliński wypowiedzi „Bóg nie może grzeszyć", które by stało w sprzeczności z powyższym nie wchodzi w grę. Te dwie części argumentacji filozofa pominę. Krytyka argumentacji Johna A. McHugh'a przez Nelsona Pike'a i jego własne rozwiązanie problemu Przejdę teraz do Pike'a krytycznej interpretacji argumentacji tomisty McHugh'a, która pozwala mu wyróżnić jeden z trzech sensów twierdzenia „Bóg nie może grzeszyć", niezbędnych do przedstawienia własnej propozycji uporania się z problemem, odmiennej od Tomaszowej. Rozumowanie McHugh'a w interpretacji Pike'a przedstawia się następująco. Prawdami koniecznymi są prawdy, że Bóg jest doskonale dobry oraz implikacja, że jeżeli byt jest doskonale dobry, to nie może wykonać działania, które byłoby moralnie naganne. Z tego wynika, że twierdzenie „Bóg sprawia stan rzeczy, którego uczynienie jest moralnie naganne" jest twierdzeniem wewnętrznie sprzecznym. McHugh zauważa jednak w duchu Tomasza, że nie jest to argument przeciwko wszechmocy Boga, bowiem wszechmocny byt może nie być w stanie wykonać działań, które są logicznie sprzeczne, a skoro zdanie, że Bóg działa w sposób moralnie naganny, jest sprzeczne wewnętrznie, to niezdolność do takowego działania nie jest ograniczeniem boskiej mocy. Jest to zatem odmienna argumentacja od tej Anzelmiańsko-Lombardiańsko-Tomaszowej, z bycia działania moralnie nagannego wyrazem niedoskonałości i egzekucją mocy płynącą z braku innej mocy. Pike stara się argumentację McHugh'a sprowadzić do absurdu, przedstawiając analogiczny argument. Niech Gid, mówi Pike, oznacza twórcę, który wytwarza jedynie skórzane sandały. Zdanie „Gid wytwarza skórzane paski" jest dlatego logicznie sprzeczne i Gid nie może ich wytwarzać. Jednak Gid nadal, pomimo braku zdolności wytwarzania skórzanych pasków, jest wszechmocny, ponieważ zdanie „Gid wytwarza skórzane paski" jest logicznie sprzeczne. A zatem niezdolność do wytwarzania pasków nie stanowi ograniczenia mocy Gida. Ten jawnie błędny argument z absurdalną konkluzją pozwala dostrzec trudność argumentacji tomistów, zauważa Pike'a. Po pierwsze, opis tego, czego Gid nie może rzekomo wytworzyć – „skórzanego paska" – nie jest sprzeczny logicznie, jest takowe jedynie twierdzenie, że Gid je wytwarza. Tymczasem, twierdzi Pike, ważne jest, aby podkreślić, że w przypadku pojęcia wszechmocy według Tomasza z Akwinu nie jest istotne, aby zdanie, że pewne indywiduum wytwarza stan rzeczy było spójne, a jedynie, aby spójne było zdanie opisujące wytwarzany stan rzeczy. Zatem jeżeli Gid nie jest w stanie wytwarzać pasków, to na mocy definicji Tomasza nie jest wszechmocny i to samo musi być odniesione do Boga. Jeżeli Bóg nie jest w stanie, na mocy definicji słowa Bóg (a raczej na mocy faktu, że Bóg jest doskonale dobry) wytworzyć pewnego spójnego stanu rzeczy, to Bóg nie jest wszechmocny w sensie Tomaszowej definicji wszechmocy, a ewentualny fakt, że to ograniczenie jest wbudowane definicyjnie w termin 277 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? „Bóg", czyniąc zdanie „Bóg grzeszy" logiczną sprzecznością nie podważa powyższej konkluzji. Pike sądzi, że pomiędzy „Bóg nie może grzeszyć" i „Gid nie może wytwarzać skórzanych pasków" zachodzi analogia, także w tym, że przynajmniej w ujęciu, które przypisuje McHugh'owi, w obu przypadkach niemoc wykonania pewnego działania jest wpisana w definicję słowa Bóg. Wydaje się jednak, że nie ma to miejsca. Bez wątpienia zachodzi to w przypadku tytułu „Gid", który Pike celowo tak skonstruował. Wydaje się, że również sposób, w jaki skonstruował znaczenie terminu „Bóg" Pike, pozwala na taki wniosek. Czy jednak zachodzi tak również w przypadku Tomaszowej koncepcji Boga i „Boga"? Tomasz nie wydaje się konstruować tak pojęcia Boga, aby wywieść z tego wniosek, że Bóg nie może grzeszyć. Pojęcie Boga, którym się posługuje, ma źródła zarówno religijne, jak i filozoficzne. Jeżeli chodzi o to ostatnie, to Bóg jest pojęty jako prosty Czysty Akt Istnienia, do czego Akwinata dochodzi na drodze rozumowań prowadzących do filozoficznego uznania istnienia Boga. Następnie na drodze rozumowań dotyczących natury tak pojętego bytu wnioskuje, że Byt ten nie może działać moralnie nagannie, źle lub niesłusznie. Innym źródłem przeświadczenia, że Bóg nie może grzeszyć, jest tradycja religijna, której św. Tomasz jest dziedzicem. W żadnym z tych kroków nie następuje celowe albo niecelowe wbudowanie w pojęcie Boga, w taki sposób, w jaki czyni to przykładowo Pike, ustalając w punkcie wyjścia, że funkcja, iż Bóg jest moralnie doskonały, jest konieczna logicznie, wyniku, że Bóg nie ma mocy wykonywania pewnego rodzaju działań. To, czy niemożliwość grzeszenia przez Boga jest wyrazem niemocy czy wprost przeciwnie, wszechmocy dobrego Boga, jest zaś dopiero przedmiotem debaty, którą, przynajmniej częściowo, jak to już było stwierdzone, Pike'a przesądza. Po drugie, twierdzi Pike, tak naprawdę, zdanie „Gid nie może wytworzyć skórzanego paska", nie stwierdza, że dane indywiduum zwane Gidem nie ma zdolności do tworzenia pasków, a jedynie, że gdyby miał takową zdolność, to nie mógłby jej użyć. Dlatego indywiduum, które jest Gidem, może mieć zdolność do tworzenia skórzanych pasków, tylko nie może ono jej użyć i pozostać Gidem. Analogicznie, indywiduum będące Bogiem nie może grzeszyć, na mocy definicji słowa Bóg, i pozostać Bogiem. Nie wynika z tego jednak, że Bóg nie ma mocy grzeszyć, a jedynie, że jeżeli – mimo, że ma on moc wytworzenia spójnego wcześniej opisanego stanu rzeczy, to – ponieważ wytworzenie takiego stanu rzeczy byłoby moralnie naganne – to jako doskonale dobry nigdy nie używa tej mocy. To ostatnie rozwiązanie jest istotne i podstawową jest sprawa, jak zostanie ono zinterpretowane. Co to znaczy, że Bóg ma moc sprawienia pewnego stanu rzeczy, ale nie egzekwuje tej mocy z racji swojej doskonałej dobroci? Pike przedstawia pewne rozwiązanie/interpretację powyższego pomysłu wypracowanego w związku z przypadkiem Gida. Zgodnie z nim Akwinata i reszta tradycji, która interpretowała zdanie „Bóg nie może grzeszyć" jako wyraz mocy Boga, jest w błędzie, mieszając różne sensy mocy/niemocy. Twierdzę, że 278 Marek PePliński rozwiązanie Pike nie jest jedynym, istnieje inne, które zachowuje mocniejszy sens badanego twierdzenia, występujący u wspomnianych nieraz myślicieli, co do którego niewykluczone jest – za czym argumentowałem wcześniej – że da się orzec, iż niemożność wykonywania działania niegodnego winna być interpretowana jako wyraz mocy. Przejdźmy zatem do rozwiązania Pike'a. Autor ten, konkludując, wprowadza rozróżnienie trzech sensów, w jakich można twierdzić, że Bóg nie może zgrzeszyć. Po pierwsze, może to znaczyć, że jeżeli pewne indywiduum grzeszy wynika z tego logicznie, że dane indywiduum nie nosi tytułu „Bóg". Mówiąc potocznie – nie jest Bogiem. W takim przypadku zdanie „Bóg nie może grzeszyć" wyraża logiczną niemożliwość i powinno być odczytywane: z konieczności, dla każdego x, jeżeli x jest Bogiem, to x nie grzeszy. Zdanie to jest prawdziwe w takim sensie, twierdzi Pike i wyraża ono po prostu konieczny warunek noszenia tytułu Bóg. Ktoś, kto nie jest doskonale dobry i dokonuje działań moralnie nagannych, nie ma prawa do tytułu „Bóg". Drugi sens zdania „Bóg nie może grzeszyć" znaczy, że jeżeli dane indywiduum jest Bogiem, to nie dysponuje ono odpowiednią mocą sprawczą wymaganą do spowodowania stanu rzeczy, którego spowodowanie byłby moralnie nagannym. Zdanie to nie stwierdza logicznej niemożliwości grzeszenia przez Boga, a jedynie prawdę faktyczną dotyczącą faktycznych granic mocy Boga. Jeżeli zdanie to byłoby prawdziwe, to dane indywiduum boskie nie byłoby wszechmocne, a także, jak dodaje Pike, nie byłoby doskonale dobre moralnie. Kwestię poprawności ostatniego wniosku pominę, zwłaszcza, że sugestia Pike stoi w sprzeczności z tym pojęciem doskonałej dobroci, którym do tej pory operował i wydaje się, że implikuje sprzeczność wewnętrzną doskonałej dobroci moralnej. Ograniczę się tylko do zreferowania tej argumentacji Pike'a. Wydaje się, że o ile Bóg nie jest zdolny do czynienia zła, a jedynie dobra, to Bóg nie jest wolny w sensie moralnym18 i nie jest godzien pochwały. Problem ten podnosi m.in. Pike, gdy rozważa drugie znaczenia zdania „Bóg nie może grzeszyć". W przypadku człowieka pewna osoba zasługuje na pochwalę z powodów moralnych, ponieważ ma ona zdolność wyboru między dobrem a złem i wybiera dobro. Natomiast zasługuje na naganę moralną, potępienie, ponieważ ma wybór między dobrem i złem moralnym i wybiera zło. Jednak jeżeli doskonale dobry Bóg jest nieskazitelny moralnie i niezdolny do wyboru zła, to brakuje mu wolności w znaczącym moralnie sensie. Wydaje się z tego wynikać, że nie zasługuje na pochwałę z moralnego punktu widzenia. A jednocześnie nie może być dobry w moralnym sensie. Zatem nie może być doskonale dobry moralnie. Po trzecie, zdanie „Bóg nie może grzeszyć" może znaczyć, że chociaż dane indywiduum posiada zdolność sprawczą wytworzenia moralnie nagannego stanu rzeczy, to jego natura i charakter dostarczają faktycznej pewności, że nigdy 18 Pike nie używa w tym kontekście pojęcia wolności, wydaje się jednak, że jest ono co najmniej dopuszczalne, jako element interpretacji jego rozumowania. 279 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? nie będzie działał w ten sposób. Zdanie to ani nie wyraża logicznej niemożliwości, ani też nie oznacza jakiegoś ograniczenia w Bogu, lecz określa mocną skłonność do pewnego (rodzaju) działania. Zgodnie z angielskim idiomem, do którego odwołuje się Pike, można powiedzieć, że Bóg nie może zmusić się do grzechu. To jest właśnie rozwiązanie Pike'a. Następnie, posługując się tymi trzema sensami, stara się on wyjaśnić błędne, w jego opinii, sposoby rozumienia relacji wszechmocy i doskonałej dobroci oraz sensu tradycyjnej nauki, że Bóg nie może grzeszyć. Zgodnie z tym, twierdzi Pike, zdanie „Bóg może grzeszyć" jest logicznie niespójne. Ale nie wynika z tego, że „Bóg nie może grzeszyć" w drugim sensie, a jedynie w pierwszym. Konieczna logicznie fałszywość zdania „Bóg może grzeszyć" w pierwszym sensie, nie pociąga za sobą ograniczenia Boskiej wszechmocy w tym sensie, iżby indywiduum noszące tytuł Boga nie posiadało przez to mocy sprawczej spowodowania dowolnego stanu rzeczy, którego spowodowanie jest naganne. Wynika tu jedynie tyle, że jeżeli indywiduum jest Bogiem, to nie używa tej mocy, czyli de facto nie sprawia takich stanów rzeczy. Czyli tym samym Bóg nie może grzeszyć w sensie trzecim. Jak jednak to rozumieć? Czy powinno się to rozumieć w ten sposób, że tak długo, jak długo indywiduum nie użyje tej mocy, tak długo może się cieszyć tym tytułem? Jest to spójne z sugestią Pike'a, że charakter moralny Boga powoduje, iż nie może się On przymusić do grzechu. Czy jednak jest możliwe, logicznie i faktycznie, wedle Pike'a, że jednak Bóg przymusiłby się do grzechu i wówczas, o ile spowodowałby coś moralnie nagannego, to przestałby zasługiwać na (nosić) ten tytuł? Aczkolwiek wypowiedzi Pike'a pod tym względem nie są jasne, nie zawierają wprost ani dedukcyjnego zanegowania takiej możliwości, ani jej potwierdzenia, to wydaje się, że spójne z tym, co Pike twierdzi, jest przyjęcie takiej interpretacji. Racje dla tego są dwie – jego dociekania i uznanie, że gdyby wszechmocny Bóg nie mógł sprawić pewnego stanu rzeczy, z racji braku mocy sprawiania go, nie byłby doskonale dobrym moralnie. Zatem wydaje się, że równie dobrze nie byłby doskonale dobry moralnie (przy założeniach Pike'a, nie moich) o ile nie byłoby realnie możliwe, że Bóg może stracić prawo do przysługującego Mu tytułu, w wyniku zaprzeczenia swemu charakterowi i sprawienia skutku, którego sprawienie jest moralnie naganne. Uwagi Pike'a z początku tekstu, zastrzegające logiczny wymiar możliwości grzeszenia, a nie materialną sugestię, że Bóg nie jest moralnie doskonale dobry, nie wykluczają powyższej interpretacji, bowiem Pike może ich bronić, odwołując się nie do niemożliwości rzeczywistej grzechu, a jedynie do zawsze skutecznego charakteru Boskiej dobroci. Z kolei św. Tomasz i św. Anzelm argumentujący, że Bóg nie może grzeszyć właśnie z racji swojej wszechmocy, mieszają, twierdzi Pike, sens drugi i trzeci zdania „Bóg nie może grzeszyć". Stwierdzenie, w drugim sensie, że Bóg nie może grzeszyć, nie jest przypisaniem Mu siły, a jedynie pewnego ograniczenia w posiadaniu mocy sprawczej. Natomiast trzeci sens, twierdzi Pike, nie ma bezpośredniego odniesienia do wszechmocy, a jest tym, który jest konieczny do 280 Marek PePliński uznania Boskiej dobroci moralnej, i jest wystarczającym, aby uznać, że pewne indywiduum „nadaje się do bycia" Bogiem. Część czwarta – krytyka argumentacji Pike'a Sprawy nie mają się chyba jednak tak prosto jak to Nelson Pike sugeruje. Ostatnia część tego artykułu będzie zawierała krytykę argumentacji autora God and Timelessness. Wpierw skieruję się ku twierdzeniu, że trzeci sens nie ma bezpośredniego odniesienia do wszechmocy, a następnie zwrócę uwagę na odmienne od Pike'owego odczytanie „Bóg nie może grzeszyć", które będzie, w mojej ocenie, zgodne z ujęciem św. Tomasza i innych autorów wspomnianej tradycji. Zacznijmy od twierdzenia, że trzeci z wyróżnionych sensów nie ma bezpośredniego odniesienia do wszechmocy. Co Pike chce przez to powiedzieć? Gdy wyróżnia i wyjaśnia trzy możliwe sensy badanego zdania, przywołuje fikcyjną postać Kowalskiego, który – będąc miłośnikiem zwierząt – nie może („cannot") być dla nich okrutny. Owa niemoc nie powinna być, twierdzi Pike, rozumiana w sensie logicznej niemożliwości ani też nie oznacza ona ograniczenia jego siły fizycznej – może on być zdolny do wykonania ruchu wchodzącego w skład czynności kopania kociaka. Wyrażenie to oznaczy tylko, że Kowalski ma mocną skłonność do bycia miłym dla zwierzaków i unikania okrutnych działań względem nich. Analogicznie, charakter Boga jest taki, że nie będzie on działał w grzeszny sposób.19 Widać tu wyraźne pokrewieństwo pomiędzy ujęciem Pike'a a twierdzeniem Tomasza, że pełna cnotliwość Boga powoduje, że ten nie czyni zła. Możliwa różnica leżałaby jednak w dopuszczalności realnej możliwości uczynienia zła moralnego, Akwinata, jak wiemy, wyklucza takową. Czy Pike również takową wyklucza, przyjmując jedynie w takim wypadku niewiele, o ile cokolwiek, znaczącą możliwość logiczną, było już przedmiotem dociekania. Wydaje się, że Pike takowej możliwości nie wyklucza. Idąc dalej, gdy aplikuje on ten sens do wszechmocy Boga, Pike zauważa, co następuje: Tym siłowym pojęciem [strenght-concept] w tym pakiecie idei jest pojęcie nie bycia zdolnym w d o p r o w a d z e n i u s i e b i e do grzechu. Bóg posiada specjalną moc charakteru. Lecz to ostatnie pojęcie jest wyrażone przez trzeci sens wyrażenia „Bóg nie może grzeszyć" Jak argumentowałem wcześniej, ten trzeci sens wydaje się nie mieć żadnego logicznego związku z ideą posiadania albo braku mocy sprawczej do powodowania spójnych logicznie stanów rzeczy. z tego powodu wydaje się nie mieć ono żadnych logicznych powiązań z tym pojęciem wszechmocy, które jest eksplikowane przez św. tomasza. [De facto, które jest Pike'a interpretacją Tomaszowego pojęcia; wyróżnienie M.P.].20 19 N. Pike, op. cit., s. 215. 20 Ibidem, s. 216. 281 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? Pike idzie tu chyba jednak za daleko. Ważne, aby poprawnie pojąć jego argumentację. Pike zgadza się, że twierdzenie, że Bóg nie może grzeszyć, jest prawdziwe w trzecim sensie, podobnie jak w pierwszym. Nie jest prawdziwe w sensie drugim, gdyż wówczas oznaczałoby ograniczenie mocy Boga. Pike nie chce jednak zgodzić się ze stanowiskiem św. Tomasza, któremu zarzuca pomieszanie sensu drugiego z trzecim. Aby mógł zasadnie to uczynić, musi przyjąć, że trzeci sens nie ma żadnego związku logicznego z pojęciem wszechmocy, czy też, z pojęciem wszechmocy w sensie nadanym temu terminowi przez świętego Tomasza, w Pike'owskim ujęciu tego sensu. Do tego miejsca można się z nim zgodzić. Akwinata, podobnie jak autor niniejszego tekstu, nie ma wątpliwości, że Bóg jest w mocy spowodować taki stan rzeczy, który opisuje Pike. Jest tak dlatego, że taki stan rzeczy, wzięty sam w sobie jest, jak się wydaje, logicznie niesprzeczny oraz ponieważ nie ma takiej siły w świecie, która mogłaby przeważyć boską moc, gdyby zmierzała ku takiemu skutkowi. Bóg bowiem panuje nad przyczynami drugimi, które byłyby warunkami koniecznymi zajścia takiego stanu rzeczy albo też mógłby wytworzyć taki stan rzeczy swoją mocą absolutną i z pominięciem koniecznych i naturalnych, jeśli można tak to określić, przyczyn drugich. W tym zatem zakresie stanowisko Pike'a nie stanowi problemu. Problem leży gdzie indziej, mianowicie, we wspomnianym już przekonaniu, że orzekanie wszechmocy o Bogu należy ograniczyć do orzekania o nim skuteczności w sprawianiu pewnych stanów rzeczy, w tym, że Bóg nie wykonuje działań, a jedynie wytwarza czy sprawia. Tymczasem sprawianie czegoś może być działaniem, jest tak w przypadku troski żony o męża, przejawiającej się w zaparzeniu mu ziołowej herbaty. Innymi słowy, dana sytuacja będzie miała (co najmniej) dwa poprawne logicznie opisy. Analogicznie jest z Bogiem, niezależnie od tego, że Bóg nie działa ze świata i jako jedna z sił w świecie, nie będąc stworzeniem, lecz Stwórcą. Idąc dalej, problem leży w uznaniu, że moc wykonywania działań dobrych i niemoc powstrzymywania się od złych moralnie nie mają znaczenia dla oceny mocy pewnego bytu. Analogia z niezdolnym do okrucieństwa względem zwierząt Kowalskim, o tyle nie może pełnić funkcji uzasadniających, których od niej Pike oczekuje, że po pierwsze, jest pełna zgoda, co do tego, że Kowalski i Bóg mają odpowiednie moce sprawcze, dla spowodowania stanu rzeczy wchodzącego w grę w obu hipotetycznych sytuacjach. Po drugie, analogia nie działa dlatego, że o ile niemoc czynienia zła nie wyklucza pozostawania w obrębie mocy działania sprawczego pewnych stanów rzeczy, to nie tylko nie wyklucza ona, ale wprost przeciwnie, zakłada w Kowalskim i w Bogu moc czynienia dobra w postaci niewykonywania działań moralnie niegodziwych. Powstrzymanie się od złego działania B jest czynem, tak samo, jak wykonanie czynności A. Do uczynienia każdego z nich niezbędna jest moc, która nie jest każdemu dostępna. Niektórzy nie wykonują pewnych czynności moralnie słusznych, gdyż nie jest tak, że tego chcą, ale mogliby chcieć. Inni dlatego, że nie jest tak, że tego chcą, ale nie są w stanie tego chcieć. Inni zaś chcą (lub chcieliby) tego chcieć (dysponują meta-chceniem), ale nie mają siły chcenia przedmioto282 Marek PePliński wego, skutecznego wyłonienia z siebie aktu dobrego czy słusznego. Odpowiednie, słuszne, czy moralnie dobre działania istot takich jak ludzie, wymagają nie tylko zdolności sprawiania pewnych fizycznych stanów rzeczy, ale także uprzedniej, niezależnej mocy wyłonienia z siebie aktu decyzji zgodnej z odpowiednią normą moralności. Różne byty dysponują tą mocą w różnym stopniu, zarówno ujmując rzecz gatunkowo, jak i transrodzajowo. Stawiając rzecz jeszcze inaczej, o ile w mocy absolutnej Boga byłoby sprawić taki stan rzeczy, wzięty w abstrakcji od sposobu boskiego działania, to we wszechmocy uporządkowanej ze względu na naturę Boga i biorąc pod uwagę, że Bóg nie może chcieć zła, mieści się wyłącznie niesprawianie zła i tym samym tak skonstruowanego stanu rzeczy. Ma to swoje konsekwencje dla problemu zła – jeżeli Bóg dopuszcza analogiczne stany rzeczy, to nie mogą one być przypadkami zła nieprzeważonego ostatecznie przez dobro. W ścisłym sensie takie przypadki zła nie występują (o ile Bóg jest doskonale dobry i wszechmocny, a ich niezaistnienie jest logicznie możliwe). W tym znaczeniu siłowe-pojęcie mocy jako skłonności ku dobru, wbrew temu co sugeruje Pike, jest powiązane logicznie z pojęciem wszechmocy Boga, w ujęciu Akwinaty. To nie Tomasz miesza sensy drugi z trzecim, lecz Pike tak konstruuje sens wszechmocy, że oddziela na mocy przyjętych konwencji sens trzeci od sensu drugiego. Z rozwiązaniem Pike'a jest jeszcze jeden problem, związany właśnie z zastosowaniem pierwszego i trzeciego sensu niemocy/mocy do Boga. Wydaje się, że teiści, gdy orzekają, iż Bóg nie może grzeszyć, nie mają na myśli tego, że gdyby zgrzeszył, to straciłby prawo do należnego Mu dotąd tytułu, lecz że ten właśnie Byt jest taki, że w pewnym istotnym sensie, nigdy nie zgrzeszy. Sednem problemu jest znaczenie owego „nigdy". Dyskusyjne, choć niewykluczone jest, iż trzeci, w ujęciu Pike'a, sens zdania „Bóg nie może grzeszyć" jest poprawną interpretacją wspomnianego elementu wiary teistycznej w przypadku tego czy innego wiernego. Nic nie stoi na przeszkodzie, aby niektórzy wierni tak sprawy pojmowali. Nie każdy jednak się z tym zgodzi, że jest to właściwa interpretacja. Propozycja Pike'a wydaje się bowiem stwierdzać, iż Bóg mógłby zgrzeszyć, ale nie uczyni tego, ze względu na siłę swojego moralnego charakteru. Pike wydaje się w tym miejscu ulegać antropomorficznemu obrazowi Boga, traktując moc Boga jako maksymalny, krańcowy przypadek pewnego rodzaju. Ponadto, autor ten nie może bronić swego stanowiska, poprzez odwołanie się do następującego rozwiązania: Bóg może zgrzeszyć, gdyby chciał, ale tego nie będzie chciał. Stanowisko takie przyjmuje Akwinata, interpretując wypowiedź Arystotelesa, że Bóg mógłby czynić zło, gdyby zechciał. Jednak Pike odrzuca Tomaszową interpretację. Z drugiej strony patrząc, Akwinata mógłby zaakceptować stanowisko, że Bóg mógłby zgrzeszyć, ale nie uczyni tego z racji tego, że nie może się do owego aktu zmusić, analogicznie jak zaakceptował propozycję Arystotelesa, pojmując ją we właściwy sobie sposób. W takim jednak wypadku, wydaje się, że Doktor Anielski zinterpretowałby sytuację, o której mowa, jako zakładającą rodzaj metafizycznej niemożliwości płynącej z natury działania Boga. Warunkiem niezmiennym 283 Czy Bóg jest w moCy działać moralnie źle? tej niemożliwości byłyby, jak to już wskazano, cnotliwość boskiego działania, niezdolność do pomyłki w sprawach boskiego „poznania praktycznego" (wypada może zaznaczyć, że niezdolność Boga do błędu poznawczego nie jest wyrazem Jego niemocy) oraz niemożliwość tego, aby wola Boga chciała czegoś innego niż to, co jest identyczne z Jego Dobrocią. Tomasz przedstawia argumenty za wspomniana tezą w różnych dziełach, między innymi w obu Sumach oraz w Kwestiach dyskutowanych o mocy Boga. Dlatego też Akwinata powiedziałby, iż Bóg może zgrzeszyć, gdyby chciał, ale tego nie będzie chciał, gdyż nie może tego chcieć. Czy Pike podważył takie stanowisko Tomasza i związany z nim czwarty sens wypowiedzi „Bóg nie może zgrzeszyć"? Twierdzę, że argumentacja, którą przedstawił, nie jest do tego wystarczająca, co starałem się uzasadnić. Czy stanowisko takie naraża się na rozmaite zarzuty, w tym czy prowadzi, jak sugerują to niektórzy, do postrzegania Boga „jako automatu" i czy staje się podstawą odmówienia Bogu zasługi, są to kolejne kwestie, których adekwatne podjęcie i wyjaśnienie przekracza możliwości tego artykułu. Kończąc niniejsze dociekania, przytoczę fragment z Sumy filozoficznej św. Tomasza: Bóg jest najwyższym dobrem, jak to wykazaliśmy powyżej [I, 41]. Najwyższe zaś dobro nie dopuszcza żadnego obcowania ze złem, podobnie jak najwyższe ciepło wyklucza jakąkolwiek domieszkę zimna. Wola Boża nie może się więc skłaniać do zła. [...] Skoro dobro z istoty swej jest celem, zło może przeniknąć do woli tylko wtedy, gdy ją odwraca od celu. Woli Bożej zaś nie można odwrócić od celu, skoro Bóg nie może niczego chcieć inaczej, jak tylko przez to, że chce samego siebie, jak to wykazaliśmy [I, 74n]. Nie może więc chcieć zła. I tak jest jasne, że wolna decyzja jest w Nim w naturalny sposób utwierdzona w dobru. Tak właśnie powiedziano w Księdze Powtórzonego Prawa 32, [4]: „Bóg jest wierny i bez nieprawości"; oraz w Księdze Habakuka 1, [131: „Czyste są oczy Twoje, Panie, i nie możesz patrzeć na nieprawość"].21 Marek Pepliński Does God has power to act in morally wrong way? Abstract This paper has four parts. First outline seven several questions concerning the relation between God, his goodness, and other philosophically interesting things, especially between attributes of almightiness, goodness, and faith in God, questions different from the main question of this article. The second part presents Aquinas's account of God's goodness, with three ways to understand it, as God's excellence in being, with respect of 21 SCG, I, 95, Prawda wiary chrześcijańskiej, s. 244. 284 His creative activity and with respect of the morality of God's acting. The third part of the article critically examines Nelson Pike's classical account of the Aquinas-Anselm view of the problem of the possibility of God's sin and the paradox of omnipotence and goodness. Last part contains argumentation that Pike's argument is not sound. He shouldn't so easily reconstruct Aquinas account of absolutely possible as concerning only the result of God's creative action some consistent state of affairs, second, the assessment of some agent's decision/choice/possibility of acting in particular (morally wrong) way should be included in assessment of his power, and Pike's paper doesn't support enough his conclusion, that Aquinas confused second and third sense of "God cannot sin." Alternatively, to Pike's account, I distinguish the fourth sense of the expression in question, present arguments that this meaning is coherent with Aquinas account of omnipotence and goodness of God as well as arguments that this is the concept of divine omnipotent goodness which is the condition of real faith in God. Keywords: God's ability to sin, omnipotent goodness as necessary condition of Christian faith, God's power and goodness, almightiness, omnipotence, paradoxes of omnipotence, Nelson Pike, Thomas Aquinas.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics Volume 5 | Issue 1 Article 1 2015 Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism Tracey A. Rowland [email protected] Follow this and additional works at: http://researchonline.nd.edu.au/solidarity ISSN: 1839-0366 COMMONWEALTH OF AUSTRALIA Copyright Regulations 1969 WARNING This material has been copied and communicated to you by or on behalf of the University of Notre Dame Australia pursuant to part VB of the Copyright Act 1969 (the Act). The material in this communication may be subject to copyright under the Act. Any further copying or communication of this material by you may be the subject of copyright protection under the Act. Do not remove this notice. This Article is brought to you by ResearchOnline@ND. It has been accepted for inclusion in Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics by an authorized administrator of ResearchOnline@ND. For more information, please contact [email protected]. Recommended Citation Rowland, Tracey A. (2015) "Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism," Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics: Vol. 5: Iss. 1, Article 1. Available at: http://researchonline.nd.edu.au/solidarity/vol5/iss1/1 Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism Abstract This paper on feminism was given at a public lecture in Spain. The author speaks from the perspective of contemporary Catholicism, represented in the magisterial teachings of St John Paul II, foreshadowed in the works of St. Edith Stein, and amplified and developed by contemporary Catholic scholars such as Prudence Allen, Michelle Schumacher, Leonie Caldecott and Cardinals Angelo Scola, Walter Kasper and Karl Lehmann. This article is available in Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics: http://researchonline.nd.edu.au/ solidarity/vol5/iss1/1 1 Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism1 Tracey Rowland This paper begins with a brief exploration of the differences between the presuppositions of contemporary versions of Feminism by comparison with those of Catholicism in relation to foundational understandings of the nature of human life and the meaning of human existence. It goes on to explore current Catholic scholarship on the vocation of women, relationality between men and women and the nature of human freedom and dignity with reference to Feminist approaches. The final section of the paper argues for a surprising or unanticipated convergence between Radical Feminism and some contemporary Catholic scholarship on the significance and value of female sexuality and the socio-political, economic and technological challenges presented by particular contemporary practices. The commodification of human beings and human sexuality, the exploitation of human reproduction and the trivialisation of sexual difference are approached in the context of the problems they create not only for women, but for what St John Paul II refers to as 'the spiritual problematic of all persons'. In approaching a discussion of feminism, one must recognise that feminism, like Christianity, is a social movement with an intellectual tradition, which like all intellectual traditions it comes with its own canons of authority and its own disputed issues. These areas of dispute in turn give rise to different schools of Feminist thought, in much the same way that the disputed theological questions of the 16th century gave rise to various different denominations of Protestantism. It is not possible in the space of a short paper to give comprehensive attention to each distinct branch of Feminist thought, for example, Liberal, Marxist, Essentialist, Radical and Deconstructivist, since each comes with its own distinct emphases, epistemologies, political priorities and points of entry in the history of the movement. This paper will however endeavour to show the relevance of its argument to a specific sub-species of Feminism when the point being made is not in relation to Feminism in general, but merely to a particular branch. It is likewise impossible to write from the perspective of Christianity in general, since Christianity is itself similarly divided into many factions. Consequently, this paper is written from the perspective of contemporary Catholicism, represented in the magisterial teachings of St John Paul II, foreshadowed in the works of St Edith Stein, and amplified and developed by contemporary Catholic scholars such as Prudence Allen, Michelle Schumacher, Leonie Caldecott and Cardinals Angelo Scola, Walter Kasper and Karl Lehmann. What seems the starkest difference between Catholicism and contemporary Feminism is Catholicism's commitment to three beliefs: the first, that the world was created by a Tripersonal God in a state of harmony; the second, that this original innocence and harmony was destroyed by a misuse of human free-will, with the effect that discord was introduced into the relationship between men and women; and the third, that the Incarnation of the Second Person of this Trinitarian God brought about the possibility of human redemption from the effects of the original catastrophe, by the gift of grace. The three key theoretical presuppositions are 1 The author wishes to acknowledge the valuable research assistance of Anna Krohn, the Convenor of Anima Catholic Women's Network (based in Melbourne, Victoria), in the preparation of this paper, which was originally delivered as a speech at El Escorial, Spain, in June, 2014. 1 Rowland: Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism Published by ResearchOnline@ND, 2015 2 therefore: (i) creation as a gift, (ii) the human rejection of the gift as it was given and the consequential intervention of sin, and thus, (iii) the need of grace and redemption. In this paper, different versions of feminism are taken as tending to share the property of being post-Christian or post-Catholic in the sense that they do not begin their analysis of what it means to be a woman, with the ideas of creation, of sin and of redemption through the grace of the Incarnation. Rather, they begin from different post-Christian anthropological foundations. It is for this reason that Cardinal Lehmann has observed that the issue of the relationship between feminism and Christianity is 'a question of humanness as such'.2 Lehmann argues that the 'recent women's movement has brought to light the fact that the decisive answers to our problem are directly or indirectly predetermined by global views of the meaning of human life and the order of human existence as such...the battle over the place of women in the Church and in society is in essence a fight concerning anthropology'.3 Therefore this discussion begins by offering an exposition of what is current Catholic teaching on anthropology, to be found in St John Paul II's Apostolic Letter Mulieris Dignitatem on the Dignity and Vocation of Women.4 St John Paul II begins his analysis with the story of creation in the book of Genesis. He asserts that 'the biblical text provides sufficient bases for recognising the essential equality of men and woman from the point of view of their humanity...The woman is another I in a common humanity'. Henceforth they are called not only to exist 'side by side' but to "exist mutually one for the other". Referring to the passage in Genesis 2:18-35 regarding a woman being a "helpmate" of the man, the pope wrote: 'it is a help on the part of both, it is a mutual help in interpersonal communion'5 that integrates what is masculine with what is feminine. He then went on to draw an analogy between the interpersonal communion of men and women and the communion of Persons within the Trinity. This analogy is especially strong when describing a spousal relationship but more generally the pope argues that all human beings, married or single, are created to make of themselves a gift to other human persons and it is through making a gift of oneself to others that individuals achieve self-realisation. This theology is simply an echo of statements to be found in paragraphs 22-25 of the Conciliar document Gaudium et spes, which the young Karol Wojtyla helped to draft.6 The idea that male and female were created as equals is now standard Catholic teaching and is at quite a distance from many Protestant interpretations of the same scriptural passages, especially in those communities which had their origins in the Mennonite movement and which remain influential in American Protestantism today (most notably in the Amish communities). Consistent with John Paul's reading, in an article published in Theology Today in 1997, William E. Phipps argued that the Hebrew word for helpmate 'ezer neged' is used around 20 times in the Bible and does not in other contexts carry connotations of an apprentice or servant; 2 Karl Lehmann, "The Place of Women as a Problem in Theological Anthropology" In The Church and Women: A Compendium, eds. Hans Urs von Balthasar, et.al, trans: Maria Shrady and Lothar Krauth (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1988), 13. 3 Lehmann, "The Place of Women as a Problem in Theological Anthropology", 13. 4 John Paul II, Mulieris Dignitatem, Apostolic Letter, Vatican Website, August 15, 1988 http://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/apost_letters/1988/documents/hf_jp-ii_apl_19880815_mulierisdignitatem.html. 5 John Paul II, Mulieris Dignitatem, III, sec. 7:3. 6 Second Vatican Council, "Gaudium et spes: Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World," Vatican Website, December 7, 1965. http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_const_19651207_gaudium-etspes_en.html. 2 Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics, Vol. 5 [2015], Iss. 1, Art. 1 http://researchonline.nd.edu.au/solidarity/vol5/iss1/1 3 in fact in some cases it refers to a superior person and to someone offering divine assistance. Phipps suggests that the best translation would be something like a 'partner corresponding to him', that is, a partner corresponding to Adam.7 In contemporary Catholic marriages among the educated classes in the Anglophone world it is, arguably, this understanding of 'helpmate' that prevails. Couples think of each other as being in a relationship of mutual self-giving love and service with each party bringing to the marriage his and her own menu of gifts. While couples joke about their being "blue" jobs and "pink" jobs, with the blue jobs tending to be those requiring physical strength and the pink jobs being those that require a very high level of emotional intelligence, in general most Catholic couples operate on a principle of each playing to their own strengths rather than having strict fields of responsibility determined by their sex. An intelligent male know if his wife is better at something than he is, and defers to her superior knowledge and talent in those areas and conversely an intelligent woman defers to her husband in areas she judges to be his strength, not hers. Outside of the educated classes of the first world, however, and especially in Latin America, machismo remains a social problem for women. The idea that women are somehow inferior to men continues to prevail in some Catholic sub-cultures, notwithstanding the official magisterial teaching. The caveman attitude with its focus on what a woman can do to satisfy various carnal desires of the male and the corresponding view that a woman exists to do nothing more than satisfy such desires, does persist; and its persistence is a problem which highlights a significant difference between many feminist ideas and those of John Paul II. The difference lies in the fact that John Paul II, unlike most feminists, has not abandoned the concept of sin. He acknowledges that men can desire to dominate and even to exploit women and he reads this as sinful and a result of what in theological parlance is called 'original sin'. He interprets Genesis 3:16, the statement that 'a woman's desire shall be for her husband, and he shall rule over her', as a description of fallen humanity. He writes: 'this domination indicates the disturbance and loss of that stability of the fundamental equality which the man and the woman possess in the unity of the two and this is especially to the disadvantage of the woman, though it also diminishes the true dignity of the man'.8 Contrary to this fallen condition of humanity, marriage requires respect for and the perfection of the personal subjectivity of both the man and the woman. In Mulieris Dignitatem, St John Paul II emphatically asserted that 'the woman cannot become the object of domination and male possession'.9 A difficulty of course, for the post-Enlightenment mind, that has rejected such concepts as original sin and its remedy, grace, and the whole sacramental economy, is how does one account for the persistence of the problems in male-female relationships? If there is no original sin, no concupiscence, what is the cause of the problem? And further, what remedies does one have apart from political campaigns, consciousness raising programmes and female separatism, which reaches its most extreme form in lesbian separatism? In short, the difference between a typical feminist and John Paul II, is that feminists are likely to see the solution to perennial problems in various forms of state supported social engineering, whereas for John Paul II, the key solutions are a personal relationship with the Trinity, an openness to the work of grace, and the humility to constantly seek forgiveness and examine one's conscience. Thus social action manifests via a significant and deeply personal encounter with God. 7 William E. Phipps, "Adam's Rib: Bone of Contention", Theology Today 33, No. 3 (1997): 271. 8 Gaudium et spes, III, sec. 6:5. 9 John Paul II, Mulieris Dignitatem, IV, sec.10:2 3 Rowland: Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism Published by ResearchOnline@ND, 2015 4 Leonie Caldecott, an English Catholic author, has summarised much of the above with the statement that '[a]ccording to Wojtyla's interpretation of Genesis 2:18-20 which refers to the creation of Eve as Adam's helpmate, this helpmate status refers to an ontological assistance, a kind of complementarity, not to a form of servitude', and further, '[t]he loving unity to which men and women are called will be achieved not by suppressing all distinctions, but by ending the "quarrel" between the bad masculine and the bad feminine that has developed in the state of sin'.10 There is also a significant difference between a Christian understanding of freedom and post-Enlightenment, in particular, liberal understandings of freedom. Christian conceptions of freedom link the exercise of freedom to the pursuit of truth and goodness and beauty understood as transcendental properties of being, whereas post-Enlightenment philosophers tend to see freedom as simply a condition of having unlimited choices. Archbishop Javier Martinez has explained the intellectual genealogy of this difference between the Christian conception of freedom and post-Christian conceptions in the chapter referred to below, 'Jesus of History and the Christ of Faith'. He begins by noting that since creation comes from God, is directed towards God and stands in relation to God, Christians believe that creation is revelatory of God. This idea, described in theological parlance as the analogy of being, was rejected by Duns Scotus, who preferred the idea of the univocity of being. As a consequence of this shift, God became separated from the world and reduced to a being among other beings, whose specific difference was explained in terms of qualities such as absolute freedom and absolute power. Martinez writes: [The effect of the abandonment of the analogy of the being] was that reason and freedom do not happen in a context. Like the ego, they have no body, no father and mother and are 'suspended' in the air. They do not have any roots or purposes given to them from anywhere, and therefore they do not need and cannot be educated in any proper sense of the word. They do not have the possibility of selfdelusion. They can only be mistaken when some relevant piece of data is lacking or when they are not sufficiently enlightened. Otherwise they are always right. At the same time, as a direct consequence of the 'separation' of God from the world, the world (anything besides the ego, beginning with one's body) has become nature. This 'nature' is seen at the beginning as almost divine, but soon it will be reduced to an artefact and finally a commodity for human consumption. It has no secrets but it can be measured and the quality of being measurable becomes synonymous with being intelligible and over time mathematics comes to be considered the standard for all types of knowledge. This transparent world, is also, however, a closed world. Nature as a commodity is such a closed world that it cannot offer any surprises and it cannot be a sign of anything.11 As a consequence, the whole category of sacrament is abandoned, the divinely appointed means of conferring grace on human beings is lost and freedom becomes simply the ability to do with this commodity whatever one wishes. Martinez concludes that the secular tradition (of which, feminism is an outgrowth) is 'so deeply marked by its opposition to Christianity that it retains most of the categories of the tradition to which it opposes itself (although in a negative 10 Léonie Caldecott, "Sincere Gift: The Pope's New Feminism", Communio: International Review, Vol. 23, No. 1 (1996): 64-81. 11 Javier Martinez, "Christ of History, Jesus of Faith" in The Pope and Jesus of Nazareth, ed. Adrian Pabst and Angus Paddison (London, SCM Press, 2009), 27. 4 Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics, Vol. 5 [2015], Iss. 1, Art. 1 http://researchonline.nd.edu.au/solidarity/vol5/iss1/1 5 or inverted fashion)'; and 'it hides and masks its dogmatic character through a rhetoric that pretends to recover the real world once the obstacle of Christianity has been put aside (or at least bracketed)'.12 Accordingly: It is a tradition marked by this paradox: in the same measure as it achieves its aims, it destroys its very ideals which are still to a great degree Christian ideals, cut off from their roots in the soil of the Christian tradition where they were embedded. A notion like freedom as a faculty belonging to every human being qua human being, which is so indigenous to the Christian tradition and so essential to the constructions of the Enlightenment, has been defined by the secular postEnlightenment tradition mostly in negative terms, as a 'freedom' from the tutelage of Christian discipline and dogma and also as a 'freedom' from any other bond.13 Martinez observes that once people are offered that sort of freedom, nobody knows what to do with it, until the next dictator or marketing guru comes and tells them. As a consequence, contemporary social theorists now speak of the aestheticisation of reality, the cutting loose of representations from what they represent. For example, in her best-selling book, No Logo, Naomi Klein argued that brand-name multinational corporations have switched from the manufacturing of commodities towards the branding or marketing of images.14 Branding is about ideas, attitudes, lifestyle and values all embodied in the logo. Klein argues that branding becomes a major culture creating force, a way that individuals exercise their freedom where freedom is understood as the freedom of consumer choice and identities are attached not to any transcendental properties such as truth, beauty and goodness but to preferences for one designer label over another. The Catholic theologian Michelle Schumacher concurs with this reading of the intellectual history and she argues that the problem of much contemporary feminist thinking from a Christian point of view is that it seeks solutions to the tension between male and female relations from within the framework of the early-modern separation of God from creation and then nature from grace. What Schumacher calls 'the feminist quandary' oscillates between a view of femininity as essentialist, which runs the risk of fostering the idea that biology is destiny, as Simone de Beauvoir expressed the principle; and a view of femininity as culturally constructed, which runs the risk of devaluing feminine difference. The way out of this quandary 'is to insist upon neither the social construction of nature that would refuse essential differences between men and women, nor an essentialist view of nature when interpreted as the de facto isolation of women from the larger male-dominated polis'.15 Rather, Schumacher suggests that what is required is an affirmation of sexual difference within a relational model of human nature. By a relational model of human nature she means that the human being male or female – far from existing in a state where his or her personal good is opposed to the common good, actually achieves his or her personal good through participation in and contribution to the common 12 Martinez, "Christ of History, Jesus of Faith", 29. 13 Martinez, "Christ of History, Jesus of Faith", 29-30. 14 Naomi Klein, No Logo: No Space, No Choice, No Jobs (London: Flamingo, 2001). 15 Michele Schumacher, "The Nature of Nature in Feminism Old and New: From Dualism to Complementary Unity" in Women in Christ: Toward a New Feminism ed. Michele M Schumacher (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 19-20. 5 Rowland: Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism Published by ResearchOnline@ND, 2015 6 good. This is really a philosophical echo of the more explicitly theological anthropology of John Paul II. Schumacher concludes that: [f]ar from being at odds with the transcendental character of the human person – with his or her self-determination and the ongoing "project" of self-development and self-fulfilment which are integral to human existence as such – the return to the classically Christian presentation of nature (whether of the Greek or Latin tendency) would actually preserve this dimension within the larger context of personal self-fulfilment and thus of vocation, where vocation is itself understood in terms of and as a response to love.16 In this vision, self-fulfilment is as much a communal effort as a personal one. Rather than there being a dualistic relationship between nature and culture, giving rise to the unhappy choice between femininity as biological determinism and femininity as a mere social construct, there is a symbiotic relationship. Nature both requires culture and contributes to culture and the concepts of vocation and self-realisation are understood as a response to love. As the Scottish philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre explains the anthropological principle, human beings are dependent rational animals,17 or, to put the matter in the idiom of John Paul II, relationality is an essential component of human nature. However when freedom is disconnected from both nature and grace, one person's freedom is not organically connected to that of another. In such a world there is no room for the idea of one person's good being recognised as existing in that of another, or even of being fulfilled through the gift of the self to another. In such a culture, love becomes suspect and cultural practices take the form of the survival of the fittest. Human relationships become defined by mutual utility rather than mutual love. John Paul II called such cultures a culture of death, and juxtaposed them to what he called a civilisation of love. Cardinal Walter Kasper points to the affirmation of the intrinsic goodness of male and female sexuality within such a framework. He observes that the doctrine of creation justifies neither a materialistic or idealistic view of human beings. Rather: Christian anthropology sees the human body as a real symbol, as the 'excarnation" of the human spirit, the spirit being the form and life principle of the body'. With this view Christianity by its very nature – unfortunately not always in its concrete historical realisation – is incompatible with every form of Gnosticism, which in its hostility to the body and sexuality regards the real human being, the self, as an inner personal core indifferent to the body and sexuality. If the body is the real symbol of the human spirit, then bodily, sexually specific differences cannot be irrelevant to the constitution of the person. So, we cannot say that there is just a minor biological difference between man and woman with admittedly great sociological 16 Schumacher, "The Nature of Nature in Feminism Old and New: From Dualism to Complementary Unity", 20. 17 See Alisdair C. MacIntyre. Dependent Rational Animals: Why Human Beings Need the Virtues (The Paul Carus Lectures: Carus Publishing Company, 1999). 6 Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics, Vol. 5 [2015], Iss. 1, Art. 1 http://researchonline.nd.edu.au/solidarity/vol5/iss1/1 7 consequences; the sexual is not a specialised zone or sector but a determination of the human being which affects the whole person, all that is human. 18 Kasper concludes that 'the devaluation of the sexual expresses itself not only in a falsely understood asceticism (typical of puritanical forms of Christianity), but also in a libertinism, which regards sexuality as ultimately trivial and inconsequential for the person, and not least in the attempt to emancipate human beings from their natural preconditions'.19 He also noted that insights from modern biology, which show that there are quite significant differences in the bodily constitution of men and women, are often down-played for ideological reasons. In full accord with Schumacher, Kasper asserts that 'culture does not mean an emancipation from nature but the creative realisation of its possibilities'.20 At this micro level of what to make of sexual difference itself, the Catholic philosopher, Prudence Allen, who was appointed to the International Theological Commission in 2014 by Pope Francis, suggests that almost all the commentators from classical times through the medieval period up to the present day tend to fall into one of four categories.21 She identifies these categories as sex unity, sex polarity, sex complementarity and reverse polarity. The sex unity position devalues the bodily differences between men and women and Plato is its exemplary theoretician in The Republic. For sex polarity theorists bodily differences are significant and men are in some sense superior to women. Here Allen offers Aristotle and Aquinas as her exemplary proponents. Reverse polarity proponents acknowledge differences and posit the superiority of the feminine, as one can find in New Age feminism focused on encountering the so-called goddess within.22 Then there is sex complementarity, a position that treats sexual difference as significant but acknowledges an equality of the sexes. Prudence Allen offers the Abbess Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179), who was declared a Doctor of the Church by Pope Benedict XVI, as an example of an early Catholic proponent of sex complementarity. Allen suggests that Hildegard believed in a kind of fractional complementarity where there is no strong overlap between the characteristics of each of the sexes. Allen however prefers to promote the concept of integral complementarity – the idea that men and women must be understood as whole and not as fractional beings. In integral sex complementarity, bodily features play a role, but not the only role in determining one's identity and vocation. Contemporary Catholic theology wishes to affirm both equality and differentiation and most contemporary theorists would be classified as proponents of an integral complementarity, though there are some feminist nuns who have been influenced by the New Age movement who promote a new kind of reverse polarity.23 18 Walter Kasper, "The Position of Women as a Problem of Theological Anthropology" in The Church and Women: A Compendium, eds Hans Urs von Balthasar, et. al, trans: Maria Shrady and Lothar Krauth (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1988), 58. 19 Kasper, "The Position of Women as a Problem of Theological Anthropology", 59. 20 Kasper, "The Position of Women as a Problem of Theological Anthropology", 60. 21 Prudence Allen, "Integral Sex Complementarity and the Theology of Communion", Communio International Catholic Review, (Winter, 1990): 523-44. 22 For example: Jean Shinoda Bolen, Goddesses in Everywoman: Thirtieth Anniversary Edition: Powerful Archetypes in Women's Lives (New York, N.Y: Harper Collins, 2014).; Jennifer Barker Woolger and Roger, J. Woolger. Goddess Within: A Guide to the Eternal Myths. (New York, N.Y.: Ballantine Books, 1989). 23 Laurie Brink, A marginal life: Pursuing holiness in the 21st century (conference paper: Leadership Conference of Women Religious Keynote Address. Kansas City, MO, August 2, 2007), 7 Rowland: Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism Published by ResearchOnline@ND, 2015 8 Allen writes that if we think of sex identity in terms of isolating certain characteristics so that a male provides one half and a female one half of a whole human being, or even if we imagine an odd fraction like one third and two thirds, then the so called complementarity between the man and woman is fractional.24 Such a fractional complementarity can leave women feeling as though they occupy the less significant fraction. By comparison, Allen suggests that the merit of integral complementarity is that it considers both men and women to be already whole persons, and metaphorically speaking, more like integers than fractions. Consistent with Schumacher and John Paul II, Allen argues that the key factor in Christian existential personalism is the idea that the person actively creates his or her identity in a 'gift of self' to another. This goes beyond the individual who defines the self away from and in opposition to others. Allen concludes that the activity of individual self-definition is dynamic and vital, as well as being sexually differentiated, so that it has some different parameters for man than it does for a woman. Both Allen and John Paul II were influenced by the work of the German Jewish philosopher Edith Stein who converted to Catholicism after reading St. Teresa of Avilas Interior Castle. Stein had been a student of Edmund Husserl and she collaborated with Heidegger on the publication of some of Husserl's papers. She eventually entered the Discalced Carmelites and perished in Auschwitz in 1942 having been one of several converts who were rounded up by the Gestapo in Holland in retaliation for an anti-Nazi statement issued by the Dutch hierarchy. Stein was canonised by John Paul II in 1998 and declared to be one of the six patron saints of Europe along with St. Benedict, Sts. Cyril and Methodius, St. Bridget of Sweden and St. Catherine of Siena. Many of the ideas of John Paul II expressed in his Letter to Women and in his Apostolic Exhortation on the Dignity and Vocation of Women (Mulieris Dignitatem)25 can be found in the publications of Edith Stein.26 Sarah Borden, a recent author on the philosophy of Stein, writes: [For Stein] no woman is only a woman. Each woman, just as each man, has her own individual talents and capacities, be they artistic, scientific, technical, intellectual, or otherwise. No one has merely, or purely, a feminine or masculine nature....Rather, each of us is human and within human nature there is a division between the feminine and the masculine...In general, more females have feminine traits and they tend toward the feminine, while males tend toward the masculine, but all may realise the feminine or masculine nature to differing degrees and in differing ways.27 In her Essays on Woman, Stein points to two distinctive characteristics of the feminine. First, women have an orientation towards the personal, men towards the objective, and secondly, she claims that women are directed towards the whole, whereas men tend to https://lcwr.org/sites/default/files/calendar/attachments/2007_Keynote_Address-Laurie_Brink-OP.pdf; and Sandra. M. Schneider, Beyond Patching: Faith and Feminism in the Catholic Church, 2nd ed. (Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist Press, 2004). 24 Allen, "Integral Sex Complementarity and the Theology of Communion" 25 Letter of Pope John Paul II to Women. Section 10, paragraph 2. http://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/letters/1995/documents/hf_jp-ii_let_29061995_women.html. Retrieved 21st December, 2015; regarding Mulieris Dignitatem (see footnote 3 above). 26 Edith Stein, Essays on Woman. 2nd rev. ed., trans. Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites, Inc. (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1987). 27 Sarah Borden, Edith Stein (London: Continuum, 2003), 70. 8 Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics, Vol. 5 [2015], Iss. 1, Art. 1 http://researchonline.nd.edu.au/solidarity/vol5/iss1/1 9 compartmentalise. In claiming that women are more personally oriented, Stein is not making the claim that women are not capable of abstract thought. She herself was a philosopher immersed in abstract thought, but she believed that women are characteristically not content to remain on the level of the abstract but want to ground the abstract in the concrete. Stein also argued that men and women have different tendencies as a result of fallen human behaviour. Women may have a 'perverse desire to intrude into personal lives' rather than waiting to be invited into the interior life of another person, and thus they are susceptible to wasting their time on gossip. Or they may have a desire to lose themselves completely in another person, a tendency that has been recognised in popular psychology texts as the problem of women who love too much.28 Or the feminine desire for wholeness may result in scatty and unreliable behaviour when a woman becomes occupied on so many fronts as to be ineffective in any of them. Borden summarises Stein's assessment of the effect of the fall on men with the following list of masculine temptations: Fallen masculine nature, [in contrast to fallen feminine nature] leads to 'brutal despotism over creatures, especially over women', and a tendency to allow his work to dominate him to the point of the atrophy of his own development, [while] the degeneration of the feminine nature goes in an opposite direction, including a 'servile dependence on man' and a superficiality that is primarily sensual. The masculine nature, when it is not appropriately developed, tends toward aggression, and the feminine toward a pathetic passivity. The fallen masculine nature results in a kind of tunnel vision, one-sidedly focusing on his work, whereas the fallen feminine nature lacks the depth to correct this, limiting itself merely to the superficial and thereby losing its spiritual equilibrium in a sensuous life.29 With reference to the masculine tendency to give priority to the objective over the personal, some contemporary Catholic scholars have observed that a problem with the 18th century is not so much that it emphasised rationality, but that the typical 18th century account of rationality was narrowly focused on one dimension of the intellect's capacity. In his Leisure as the Basis of Culture, Josef Pieper, another twentieth century German Catholic philosopher, put the problem like this: The medievals distinguished between the intellect as ratio and the intellect as intellectus. Ratio is the power of discursive thought, or searching and re-searching, abstracting, refining and concluding whereas intellectus refers to the ability of "simply looking" (simplex intuitus), to which the truth presents itself as a landscape presents itself to the eye. The spiritual knowing power of the human mind, as the ancients understood it, is really two things in one: ratio and intellectus: all knowing involved both. The path of discursive reasoning is accompanied and penetrated by the intellectus' untiring vision, which is not active but passive, or better, receptive – a receptively operating power of the intellect.30 28 For example, Robin Norwood. Women Who Love Too Much: When You Keep Wishing and Hoping He'll Change. (New York, N.Y.: Pocket Books, 2008). 29 Norwood, Women Who Love Too Much: When You Keep Wishing and Hoping He'll Change, 74. 30 Josef Pieper, Leisure as the Basis of Culture (San Francisco: Ignatius, 2009), 10. 9 Rowland: Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism Published by ResearchOnline@ND, 2015 10 The problem with much contemporary philosophy is that it denigrates the role of intellectus or completely ignores it. An interesting and underdeveloped element of Stein's account of integral complementarity is that she seems to be suggesting that while men have a tendency to emphasise the dimension of ratio, women have a kind of in-built aptitude for the work of intellectus, which is not to say that men and women cannot operate on both levels, merely that it might be the case that men have a stronger aptitude for one and women for the other. What Stein identified as the typically feminine interest in the personal and corresponding high emotional intelligence was labelled by John Paul II as "the feminine genius".31 Thus, to summarise this section of the paper it may be argued that from a contemporary Catholic point of view, the problem with much secular feminist theory is that it struggles to find an adequate anthropology which can offer any hope to women who are trying to transcend the dualisms of biological determinism and the cultural relativising of the significance of sexual difference. There is quite a high level of agreement between leading contemporary Catholic scholars and feminist scholars about the ontological equality of the sexes, but what the Catholic scholars have in their intellectual tool-box which most secular feminist theorists do not, is a narrative about how the conflict between the sexes arose and how the conflict might be overcome through the grace of the Incarnation. The Catholic anthropology is rooted in Trinitarian theology with the relationships between the persons of the Trinity offering a model of an equality of persons within difference. The Persons of the Trinity are equal as divine, and yet each one is different in relation to the other. Each person of the Trinity has free will, intelligence and differentiated identity, for we speak of the Father as the Creator, the Son as the Redeemer and the Holy Spirit as the Advocate. The members of the Trinity can therefore be said to exist within a relation of integral complementarity. It is partly for this reason that Cardinal Angelo Scola has argued that a culture that does not accept the revelation of the Trinitarian God ultimately renders itself incapable of understanding sexual difference in a positive sense.32 There is also an interesting convergence developing between Catholic theorists and Radical Feminists who are approaching many contemporary so-called women's issues from a perspective critical of the power of the market and of the commodification of human beings and utilitarian modes of relating. The term "radical" is used by these feminists because they believe in an ontological solidity, a radical value of the human body, especially of a woman's body. They seem to believe that there is something "essential" in the sense of a biological given about a male body and female body, however this comes about. They believe that being "given" a woman's body is neither the curse of maleficent nature nor something that is to be overcome (as it were) by technology or by idealised theories of gender identity. It is true that many of these radical feminists are suspicious of heterosexual bodily exchanges which they fear (in the way we might think of original sin) is "inherently violent"- but it is not the case that all radical feminists are committed to lesbian relationships or that they hate men understood in a Marxist-related sense of the "class" called male. They tend to be suspicious of any feminism too closely evolved from "male" philosophy-so they do not call 31 Letter of Pope John Paul II to Women. sec. 10:2. http://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/letters/1995/documents/hf_jp-ii_let_29061995_women.html. 32Angelo Scola, "The Dignity and Mission of Women: The Anthropological and Theological Foundations," Communio International Catholic Review (Spring, 1998): 42-56 at 52. 10 Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics, Vol. 5 [2015], Iss. 1, Art. 1 http://researchonline.nd.edu.au/solidarity/vol5/iss1/1 11 themselves Marxist feminists or liberal feminists. Self-declared Radical Feminists include: Gale Dines, Andrea Dworkin, Renate Klein, Susan Hawthorne, Megan Tyler and Catharine McKinnon. In some places they might associate with green movements, they tend to favour social activism and counter cultural critique and they are also critical of elements of postmodern feminism. In their very helpful analysis of the movement of Australian radical feminism – the editors of Radically Speaking: Feminism Re-claimed wrote: '[o]ur ability to act in the present is being severely curtailed by the post-modern insistence that there are no subjects, with the consequence that woman has been virtually erased as the author of her own life'.33 Like the British based Radically Orthodox circle of theologians, which includes a number of Catholics, the Radical Feminists believe that the "personal" and the "political" are interconnected. It might be argued that there is a strong convergence between the Radical Feminists and contemporary Catholic scholars on at least nine points or ideas, which can be articulated under the banners of political ideology, political economy and their effects on moral and cultural priorities. First, in relation to questions of political ideology, the Radical Feminists reject the liberal notion of 'choice' and any ideology that proposes a neutral polis. At the same time, they reject the commodification of sexuality in any form, and in particular they actively oppose pornography and the sexualisation of pre-pubescent girls carried out by marketing agencies and fashion design industry leaders. Rejection of the accommodation of violence within sexuality is the third point of convergence between contemporary Catholic scholars and Radical Feminists, who acknowledge the links between the acceptance of violent sexual relationships and pornography. In relation to questions of political economy and the potential for the exploitative use of technology, the fourth idea to which Radical Feminists are committed is the rejection of the practices of in-vitro fertilisation (IVF), surrogacy and other commercialized forms of reproductive technology. In taking this stance Radical Feminists tend to be in complete concordance with statements in Donum Vitae (a 1987 statement of the Doctrine of the Congregation of the Faith)34 about the power imbalance inherent in the work of scientists who boast about creating human embryos. Radical Feminists internationally have issued warnings alerting the public in general, and in particular those considering the use of such technologies, to the question of which people or organizations benefit from the use of these technologies and by contrast, which pay the price of their use. FINNRAGe (Feminist International Network of Resistance to Reproductive and Genetic Engineering) has exposed both "benevolent" in-vitro fertilisation and the dangers of its use of fertility drugs; as well as the associated emotional and economic exploitation of women ensuing from these practices. Pointing to the high failure rates of in-vitro fertilisation (which can be up to 90-95% or greater depending upon the number 33 Diane Bell and Renate Klein, Radically Speaking: Feminism Reclaimed (Melbourne; Spinifex Press, 1996), xvii. 34 Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Instruction on Respect for Human Life in its Origin and on the Dignity of Procreation Replies to Certain Questions of the Day, Vatican Website, February 22, 1987, http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cfaith/documents/rc_con_cfaith_doc_19870222_respect-forhuman-life_en.html. 11 Rowland: Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism Published by ResearchOnline@ND, 2015 12 of cycles involved and the age of the woman),35 feminists have also challenged the hegemony of 'technodocs' and pharmaceutical companies. Importantly, the feminist critique highlights the socio-political dangers inherent in development of reproductive technology and the beliefs, attitudes and values associated with such developments. These dangers include the potential for creating a society composed of children made to order, the eradication of genetic diversity, and the imposition of a "norm" which is uncomfortably Eurocentric white and male. Scientists and doctors have fiercely rebuked what they take to be feminist prophecies of doom, attempting to discount their logic by calling them hysterical, excessive and disproportionate. However, the critiques that Radical Feminists offer in relation to developments in the area of women's reproductive health extend beyond their concerns about reproductive technologies. Hence the fifth point of convergence between contemporary Catholic scholars and Radical Feminists concerns their growing suspicion of developments in contraceptive technology. Radical Feminists challenge big pharmaceutical companies and the purported advancement achieved by their contraceptive products, which include abortifacients such as the so-called morning after pill RU 486. Similarly and as a sixth point of convergence, they are ambivalent about and increasingly opposed to large, corporatized and male-run abortion clinics and are prepared to acknowledge the reality and the impact of post-abortion trauma and grief on women. The seventh point of convergence is the particular exception Radical Feminists take to state-run contraceptive practices and population control policies, which they identify as being imbued with the implicit, unexamined presuppositions of racial and eugenic ideology. In the words of Germaine Greer, '[t]hese are the suppositions which underlie our eagerness to extend the use of modern contraceptives into every society on earth, regardless of its own set of cultural and moral priorities'. She went so far as to assert that 'another name for this type of moral chaos is evil'.36 Janice Raymond in her book Women as Wombs: Reproductive Technologies and the Battle over Women's Freedom addresses contraceptive practices in the Third World that might similarly lead us to question the suppositions underlying those practices: The reproductive use and abuse of women is also played out on the international stage of population policy and programs. In contrast to the technologies and drugs promoting fertility, which are now common in so called First World, Third World women received drugs and technologies designed to promote infertility. Repeated sterilization and the exporting of dangerous contraceptives are the consequences of technological reproduction for women in the Third World. ... Medical science and technology are promoting infertility in the Third World while denouncing it in the First World... the Third World is in the past and present the dumping ground for chemicals and drugs banned in the WestDDT and DES for example. Now these 35 Alan Macaldowie, Yueping A. Wang, Abrar A. Chughtai and Georgina M, Chambers. Assisted reproductive technology in Australia and New Zealand 2012. (Sydney: National Perinatal Epidemiology and Statistics Unit, the University of New South Wales, November 2014). 36 Quoted in Ronald Fletcher, The Abolitionists: The Family and Marriage Under Attack (London: Routledge, 1988), 154. 12 Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics, Vol. 5 [2015], Iss. 1, Art. 1 http://researchonline.nd.edu.au/solidarity/vol5/iss1/1 13 countries are the testing sites for an unproven rash of hormonal and chemical contraceptives such as Norplant.37 Some Radical Feminists have turned their attention to questions of end-of–life care for women and the presuppositions that underlie practice in that context. Thus the eighth point of convergence between contemporary Catholic scholars and Radical Feminists concerns the alarm that these feminists have expressed about the risk to vulnerable women of legalised euthanasia, given that women regularly live longer than men. For example, Susan M. Wolf in her article 'Gender, Feminism, and Death: Physician Assisted Suicide' argues that because women live longer and are more devalued when they are disabled or aged, they are likely to be more vulnerable to abuse by the practitioners of physician assisted suicide than men are. Wolf notes that Dutch data shows that women predominate among patients dying through euthanasia; and since women are and have traditionally been encouraged to be self-sacrificial, they may be prone to a rationale that accepts euthanasia. Such a rationale can be explained by a desire not to become a burden on their families and implies concerns about the cost of their ongoing treatment and negative assessments of the values of their continuing lives. Wolf notes that physicians may be susceptible to accepting this rationale and hence affirming women's negative self-judgements.38 The final point of convergence concerns the vigorous opposition that Radical Feminists have recently expressed to transsexualism, which they see as a fantasy of capitalist culture. In her book Gender Hurts: A Feminist Analysis of the Politics of Transgenderism, Sheila Jeffries writes of attempts to 'censor all expressions of dissent towards malestream transgender ideology and to prohibit speaking platforms to those seen as heretics' (i.e. those opposed to transgendering children and adults).39 Moreover she argues that: Transgenderism depends for its very existence on the idea that there is an "essence" of gender, a psychology and pattern of behaviour, which is suited to persons with particular bodies and identities. This is the opposite of the feminist view, which is that the idea of gender is the foundation of the political system of male domination. The ideas and practices of gender have the potential to hurt many, ... [P]eople who feel that their "gender" does not fit their bodies may suffer psychological hurts, and then get physically "hurt" by the medical profession that diagnoses and treats them. Increasingly the term "gender" is used, in official forms and legislation for instance to stand in for the term "sex" as if "gender" is biological, and its usage has overwhelmed the feminist understanding of gender.40 Taken together these nine contemporary Radical Feminist stances converge with mainstream Catholic stances; and while such feminists do not believe in the Trinity and the idea that the human person has been made in the image and likeness of God and therefore has an intrinsic dignity, they do nonetheless believe in human dignity, even if they are not sure of 37 Janice G. Raymond, Women as Wombs: Reproductive Technologies and the Battle over Women's Freedom (San Francisco: Harper, 1993), xxiii. 38 Susan M. Wolf, "Gender, Feminism, and Death: Physician Assisted Suicide" in Feminism and Bioethics: Beyond Reproduction, ed. Susan M. Wolf, (Oxford University Press, 1996), 293. 39 Sheila Jeffries, Gender Hurts: A Feminist Analysis of the Politics of Transgenderism (London: Routledge, 2014), 2. 40 Jeffries, Gender Hurts: A Feminist Analysis of the Politics of Transgenderism, 1-6. 13 Rowland: Feminism from the Perspective of Catholicism Published by ResearchOnline@ND, 2015 14 how to ground it. They are clearly appalled by practices that treat women as commodities and their bodies as machines. Such commodification trivialises human sexuality and that trivialisation is clearly evident in the contemporary social practice of choosing one's gender identity on Facebook, a practice that absurdly equates freedom with unlimited consumer choice. In February 2014, the United States arm of Facebook rolled out fifty new 'gender identity' options for its users. When this was then extended into the United Kingdom in June of 2014, there were a further 21 options added. The changes in both countries were accompanied by an option to select whether the individual user wished to have a female, male or gender-neutral pronoun apply to him, her or them for relevant announcements. In such times Radically Orthodox Catholics and Radical Feminists may find that they have quite a lot in common, given their joint opposition to the devaluation of sexual difference implicit in such evident trivialisation of what it means to human persons to be female or male. In a speech delivered to scholars of Lublin University in 1987, St John Paul II described the spiritual problematic of all humans, male and female, in the following terms: The human person must in the name of truth stave off a double temptation: the temptation to make the truth about himself subordinate to his freedom and the temptation to make himself subordinate to the world of objects; he has to refuse to succumb to the temptation of both self-idolatry and self-subjectification.41 In the final analysis it may be argued that Christians can learn from feminists about the pathologies which develop from typically male self-idolatry and typically female selfsubjectification, and secular feminists can learn from Christians about models of human relatedness which rest on a metaphysics of equality within difference. 41 John Paul II, Apostolic Journey to Poland. Address of John Paul II to the World Culture. Aula Magna of the Catholic University of Lublin, June 9, 1987, sec. 6:3, https://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/it/speeches/1987/june/documents/hf_jp-ii_spe_19870609_mondocultura.html (translated from the Italian by the author). 14 Solidarity: The Journal of Catholic Social Thought and Secular Ethics, Vol. 5 [2015], Iss. 1, Art. 1 http://researchonline.nd.edu.au/solidarity/vol5/iss1/
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
"DISMANTLING THE MASTER'S HOUSE" Freedom as Ethical Practice in Brandom and Foucaultjore_393 419..448 Jason A. Springs ABSTRACT This article makes a case for the capacity of "social practice" accounts of agency and freedom to criticize, resist, and transform systemic forms of power and domination from within the context of religious and political practices and institutions. I first examine criticisms that Michel Foucault's analysis of systemic power results in normative aimlessness, and then I contrast that account with the description of agency and innovative practice that pragmatist philosopher Robert Brandom identifies as "expressive freedom." I argue that Brandom can provide a normative trajectory for Foucault's diagnoses of power and domination, helping to resolve its apparent lack of ethical direction. I demonstrate that Foucault, in turn, presents Brandom with insights that might overcome the charges of abstraction and conservatism that his pragmatic inferentialism frequently encounters. The result is a vindication of social practice as an analytical lens for social criticism that is at once both immanent and radical. KEY WORDS: Foucault, Brandom, Audre Lorde, social practice, pragmatism, democracy, expressive freedom, immanent criticism THE YEAR WAS 1979. The event was a New York University panel discussion addressing feminist perspectives on "The Personal and the Political." Identifying herself as a black, lesbian, feminist, mother, poet, and warrior, Audre Lorde rose to the podium and delivered a searing indictment of what she characterized as an all-too-easy, white, North American, academic feminism for its inattention to systemic forms of subjugation extending beyond the margins of the Academy. She said, Those of us who stand outside the circle of this society's definition of acceptable women; those of us who have been forged in the crucibles of difference-those of us who are poor, who are lesbians, who are Black, who are older-know that survival is not an academic skill. It is learning how to stand alone, unpopular and sometimes reviled, and how to make common cause with those others identified as outside the structures in JRE 37.3:419–448. © 2009 Journal of Religious Ethics, Inc. order to define and seek a world in which we can all flourish. It is learning how to take our differences and make them strengths. For the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change. And this fact is only threatening to those women who still define the master's house as their only source of support [1984, 112]. Lorde's words still resound today as a powerful caution to any attempt to bring analysis to bear upon systemic forms of power and domination inscribed in religious or political institutions and practices. In fact, her language about "the master's house" has come to serve as watch-words for the claim that tools of resistance forged within prevailing practices, structures, and institutions are ultimately unusable for the task of overturning the hegemonic conditions that prevail there. Any such tool, she suggests, will be so implicated in the very thing it seeks to dismantle that its use will replicate the same conditions of domination, though perhaps under a new guise. "What does it mean when the tools of a racist patriarchy are used to examine the fruits of that same patriarchy?" Lorde pressed the point: "It means that only the most narrow perimeters of change are possible and allowable" (1984, 110– 11). In other words, the changes effected by such tools will take the form of an intrinsically conservative reformism-changes either permitted by or quickly assimilated to "the powers that be." On this view, genuine measures of resistance and liberation must come from somewhere else, somewhere "outside," whether outside of "the canon," outside of mainstream Academia, outside of modern political institutions, structures, and social processes, or perhaps from outside of history altogether. In this essay, I contest Lorde's claim that "the master's tools cannot be used to dismantle the master's house." I do so by intervening in recent debates about the capacity of "social practice" explanations of agency and freedom to radically critique, resist, and transform systemic forms of power and domination. Social practice accounts of agency typically appeal to norms implicit in practices as critical leverage by which to administer immanent forms of criticism, and pursue possibilities of resisting and transforming prevailing forms of power and domination. Because the resources utilized by such accounts are implicit in already existing practices and institutions, and because the forms of criticism that they aim to facilitate are immanent, they appear to invite Lorde's criticism. Allegedly, they exemplify the conservative reformism of "the master's tools." To address this issue, I take up the accounts of social practice and strategies for resistance proposed by Michel Foucault and pragmatist philosopher Robert Brandom, both of whose accounts of practice, agency, and criticism appear to suffer in 420 Journal of Religious Ethics various ways from weaknesses that Lorde articulates. I propose readings of Foucault and Brandom in which appropriating and reconfiguring "the master's tools" turns out to be a condition for the possibility of systemic critique and resistant action that might disassemble and genuinely transform "the master's house." In Part 1, I examine Foucault's attempt to fashion a social practice framework for analyzing systemic forms of power. I begin by exploring criticisms leveled by Nancy Fraser and Richard Rorty that Foucault's approach to analysis results in normative aimlessness, precisely because it is at once systemic in its aims and immanent in its orientation- because there is no position from which to critique power that is not itself yet another manifestation of power. I propose to sidestep these criticisms by reading Foucault's account of "power as productive" against Brandom's social-practical account of "expressive freedom." To this end, I explicate Brandom's account of social practice and the possibility of expressive freedom through normative constraints, and then contrast it with Foucault's. My aim is to illuminate their respective weaknesses and offer a modified proposal informed by the other's best insights. I contend that Brandom's account of expressive freedom aids in answering the criticisms of Foucault leveled by Fraser and Rorty, clarifying a normative trajectory for his diagnoses of power and domination, thereby resolving the alleged ethical aimlessness of his account. Foucault, in turn, presents Brandom with insights that force him to actually consider questions of power and domination, and thereby to overcome charges that his account issues in abstraction and conservatism. Both of these interventions will serve to demonstrate the potential for social practice explanations of agency and freedom to critique and resist systemic forms of power and domination, thereby elucidating the capacity of "the master's tools to dismantle the master's house." 1. Foucault, Social Practice, and Normative Neutrality of Power Analysis Fraser credits Foucault's work in the 1970s with reconceiving power as productive rather than merely prohibitive or repressive. Rather than administered by discrete, identifiable power holders and distributors, Foucault reconceives power as "a complex, shifting field of relations in which everyone is an element" (Fraser 1989, 29). Power is "capillary"-"operating at the lowest extremities of the social body in everyday social practices" (1989, 29). As a result, practices and power are not separable entities that momentarily interact. Rather, power is constitutive of social practices. It is inscribed upon "bodies, gestures, desires, and habits" (1989, 29). For example, it is a conceptual feature of language use that the normative constraints exerted by words and Freedom as Ethical Practice 421 linguistic norms "enable us to speak precisely insofar as they constrain us" (1989, 32). In other words, in order to say anything at all language speakers submit themselves to the proprieties and exigencies that constitute the language. "Such norms make communication possible," Fraser writes, "but only by devaluing and ruling out some possible and actual utterances" (1989, 32). The force of language-constitutive norms constrains language users. In constraining, these norms enable the production of particular performances just as they rule out other performances. As Fraser reads him, this is what Foucault means when he writes of power in its productive sense. Of course, to say that "power is productive" in this sense is to say that power is everywhere and inescapable. Fraser describes this result as a "normatively neutral" account of power. "[E]very power regime creates, molds, and sustains a distinctive set of cultural practices, including those oriented to the production of truth," she writes. "It follows, in [Foucault's] view, that one cannot object to a form of life simply on the ground that it is power-laden. Power is productive, ineliminable, and therefore normatively neutral" (1989, 31). As Fraser sees it, the normative neutrality of Foucault's account means that it lacks an explicit normative orientation for either resisting the all-pervasiveness of power, or even adjudicating between its various forms. In other words, he lacks a basis for preferring one power regime or set of social practices over another. While he occasionally calls for resistance to domination, he provides no coherent means by which to orient such resistance. "Why is struggle preferable to submission?" Fraser presses (Fraser 1989, 29). "Why ought domination to be resisted? . . . Only with the introduction of normative notions could he begin to tell us what is wrong with the modern power/knowledge regime and why we ought to oppose it" (1989, 29). The result presents itself in Foucault's work as a "one-sided, wholesale rejection of modernity as such," and this without any alternative with which to replace it (1989, 33). Fraser's charge finds an analogue in Rorty's criticisms of Foucault. Rorty pinpoints "a crippling ambiguity between 'power' as a pejorative term and as a neutral, descriptive term" in Foucault's work. This ambiguity causes the term to "los[e] its contrastive force" and thereby becomes "vacuous." The result is not merely normative confusion, according to Rorty, but tends toward "political anarchism" (1991, 195– 96). On one hand, for instance, Rorty agrees wholeheartedly with Foucault's claim that "the self" is "a contingent product of contingently existing forces" (Rorty 1991, 197). However, he rejects Foucault's claim that it is, therefore, impossible to determine which of those "contingently existing forces" and states of affairs are better, and which are worse- "that every social institution is equally unjustifiable, that all of them are on a par" because "all of them exert 'normalizing power' " (1991, 197). As 422 Journal of Religious Ethics Rorty sees it, Foucault's account of power pulls the rug out from under any possibility of ameliorating actual, existing social conditions. What matters most from Rorty's point of view is "devising ways of diminishing human suffering and increasing human equality" (1999, 5). He believes that the North American democratic experiment has accomplished this task better than most other social and political arrangements to date. "You would never guess, from Foucault's account of the changes in European social institutions during the last three hundred years, that during that period suffering had decreased considerably, nor that people's chances of choosing their own styles of life increased considerably" (1991, 195). For Foucault, every attempt to identify and reform undesirable conditions will, itself, be implicated in yet another form of the very power that it seeks to resist. From Rorty's point of view, this position presents a theoretical analogue to the Christian doctrine of original sin-"the old religious idea that some stains are ineradicable"; "the ubiquity of Foucauldian power is reminiscent of the ubiquity of Satan, and thus of the ubiquity of original sin-that diabolical stain on every human soul" (1998, 95). The result is a practical paralysis that rules out the possibility of actually improving concrete social conditions, and helps breed a dangerously debilitating form of theorized self-disdain. "Because [Foucauldians] regard liberal reformist initiatives as symptoms of a discredited liberal 'humanism,' they have little interest in designing new social experiments," Rorty writes (1998, 37). If the latter is true of Foucauldians, it was not entirely true of Foucault himself. Peculiarly enough, at the point when Foucault was most emphatic about the inescapability of power in his writings during the late 1960s and 70s, he was also most politically active.1 Throughout his career Foucault asserted that there is a "permanent and fundamental" connection between philosophy and theoretical analysis on the one hand, and political activism on the other (1997, 293). Fraser acknowledges Foucault's persistent use of terms like "domination," "subjugation," "struggle," and "resistance," suggesting that they hint at a normative orientation implicit in his work. However, she claims that Foucault lacks the resources necessary to make any such orientation explicit. Assuming that Fraser's observation is correct, how might Foucault make such an orientation explicit and then develop it in ways that would permit him to differentiate between better and worse forms of social practices, institutions, and agency? In his later interviews and lectures, Foucault considerably altered his earlier claims about the nature of power and the contingencies of 1 For instance, Foucault became a vocal member of the Group on Prison Information, a group that attacked the prison institutions and practices of criminal reform in France. Freedom as Ethical Practice 423 personal identity. However, he held fast to his earlier view that "the self" is not an essential something waiting to be uncovered. According to that account, "selves" are historically local productions formed in relations of power such as linguistic, institutional, economic, romantic, familial relationships, formations, and fields. In its extreme form, this view implied that selves are simply determined by anonymous and arbitrary out-workings of bundles of power dynamics that happen to occur in a given context. This view seemed to challenge the very possibility of individual agency and responsibility. The subject was merely a "function of discourse" (Dreyfus and Rabinow 1982, Part 1). What appeared to be individual agency was, in fact, more like a momentarily distinguishable wave that swells across the underlying body of historical and social formations, and was little more than an inseparable and fleeting manifestation of them. In his later writings, Foucault refined his earlier views about the self on precisely these points. Foucault came to claim that while selves are not simply imaginary, neither are they purely arbitrary extensions of whatever practical and institutional forces produce them. They are, thus, not simply determined-nor equally un-free-in all circumstances and contexts. Rather, Foucault came to view the various relations of power in which selves consist as "mobile, reversible, and unstable" (1997, 292). In other words, the constraints and limitations exerted upon-even constitutive of-a self in given historical circumstances and cultural locations simultaneously enable possibilities for innovation and resistance insofar as that self was intentionally, perhaps artistically, cultivated. He came to think it possible to nurture or manipulate, to transgress and unlearn, relations of power in caring for, and thereby-in effect- creating, oneself. Alexander Nehamas clarifies this development in Foucault's understanding of the self, The self may not be the final reality underlying history, but it is not exactly a fiction either; and though it is not ultimately (or "metaphysically") free, it is not exactly a puppet. Moreover, every form of power . . . contains the potential of its own undoing, since every prohibition, [Foucault] came to realize, creates the possibility of a new transgression. Since power is productive, the subjects it produces, being themselves forms of power, can be productive in their own right [1998, 177]. On the basis of these insights, Foucault came to speak of "self-creation" in terms of a range of historically situated practices made possible by all of the antecedent constraints of the time and place in question. He came to view self-creation as a task that afforded a way of utilizing the all-pervasive dynamics of power that he invested so much effort in identifying in his earlier work. "From the idea that the self is not given to us, I think that there is only one practical consequence: we have to 424 Journal of Religious Ethics create ourselves as a work of art," he wrote. "Couldn't everyone's life become a work of art? Why should the lamp or the house be an art object, but not our life?" (1984, 350). As Foucault came to understand it, the goal of artistic self-fashioning was not to identify some power-free location from which to resist power. The point, rather, was to reflectively explore the possibilities of cultivating or manipulating the inescapable, historically contingent power dynamics that make the self a self in the first place. Self-cultivation meant that one would seek to "separate out, from the contingency that has made us what we are, the possibility of no longer being, doing, or thinking, what we are, do, or think." This task would seek to "give a new impetus . . . to the undefined work of freedom" (1984, 46). This conception of self-cultivation rejected the idea of discovering "who one truly is." At the same time, it refused the notion that one can invent one's self ex nihilo. Rather, this task entailed "rearranging the given" and "manipulating the dated" (Nehamas 1998, 177–78). More specifically, it meant critically engaging the "models that [the subject] finds in his culture and are proposed, suggested, imposed upon him by his culture, his society, and his social group" (Foucault 1997, 291). "Self-creation" thus came to look like a decidedly artistic endeavor with distinct ethical implications. Rather than a state of liberation from all antecedent constraints, Foucault spoke of freedom as a range of practices by which one might cultivate one's self in virtue of all the constraints in and through which one lived and moved and had one's being. He came to speak of ethics as self-reflective development of one's engagement in these practices of self-cultivation (1997, 284). Of course, if "becoming someone else" was the goal of self-creation, the question quickly presented itself: Does it matter who or what one becomes? Will any old possibility do so long as it is born of the recognition of the historicity of the self one finds oneself to be and then artistically endeavors to become?2 Foucault's celebration of becoming something other than what one happens to be again appeared to invite the charge that his account lacks a normative orientation by which to distinguish better and worse things to become. And yet, at this point in his work, Foucault may actually have in place the resources necessary for a normative orientation that Fraser accused him of lacking. In the following segment, I make the case that the normative orientation 2 Foucault's later thinking about self-creativity was fairly preliminary at the time of his death. At that point he had begun to explore the ways "care of the self " had been practiced in Greek, Roman, and Christian contexts, in various forms of asceticism as well as in the exploration and management of pain and pleasure. What is clear is that at no point did he derive a distinct program for resistance in his work on the care of the self (1997, 93–105). Todd May provides a helpful account of self-care in Foucault's latest work, and how it coheres with his genealogical work of the 1970s (1993, 111–28). Freedom as Ethical Practice 425 provided by Brandom's account of expressive freedom is not only compatible with, and instructive for, Foucault's account of the ethics of self-creation, but in fact illuminates an ethical orientation already implicit in that account. 2. Brandom and Freedom through Constraint by Norms Much like Fraser's reading of Foucault with which I opened the previous section, Robert Brandom takes language use as paradigmatic of what he finds most distinctive about essentially discursive, vocabulary-mongering creatures such as ourselves. In particular, becoming the speaker of a language is not simply learning to respond reliably to specific situations by applying the correct phrase out of a set stock (like the parrot trained to respond with the phrase "red car" each time a red car passes the window in front of his cage). The human capacity to apply concepts (paradigmatically, words) is marked by the capacity for novelty. As Noam Chomsky has shown, most of the statements that a given language user makes at any given point have never been uttered before (1965, chap. 1). Even the phrases passed back and forth between speakers in workaday exchange-"Have a nice day," and "Please pass the salt"-vary in meaning according to particular uses and in light of contextual and situational specifics. Different collateral commitments make the same string of words mean something slightly different in the mouths of different speakers. Brandom calls this capacity for novelty and innovation "expressive freedom" (1985, 186; 2000b, 17). Expressive freedom is possible only through constraint by norms- specifically, through the practical application (and perhaps eventual mastery) of the proprieties that constitute a given practice. For instance, the ostensibly boundless capacity that individual language users have to say things never before said is possible only by virtue of the proprieties, regularities, and norms that constitute language use. All of these are constraints that make speaking possible in the first place (1985, 188–89). Expressive freedom occurs in performing the practice in new ways-innovating, improvising, and thereby transforming the practice. In principle, the practice will evolve like case law in the sense that particular applications of the norms of the practice further enrich the practice itself, as well as the capacities of the practitioner to perform the practice. Occasionally these will converge to produce precedent-setting instances of the practice, and practitioners, who transform the practice. Take a musical example. The great jazz trumpeter Louis Armstrong learned to play the trumpet in accord with of all the constraints of tone, pitch, and musical grammar. He apprenticed himself to the best trumpet players of his day like Joe "King" Oliver. And with increasing adeptness-and eventual mastery-Armstrong came to improvise and 426 Journal of Religious Ethics innovate with the trumpet in ways never before seen or heard, ways that transformed and expanded the practice. His playing set a practicetransforming precedent by opening new and theretofore unheard possibilities for how a trumpet player could play and what trumpet playing could sound like. He changed what it meant to be a virtuoso trumpeter, jazz player, musician, and entertainer. Many of the trumpet players that followed Armstrong emulated his virtuosity, perhaps in hopes of surpassing mere imitation. The best of these sought to find their own voice, fashion their own artistry, and thereby further expand the expressive possibilities of the practice. These prospects for innovation and transformation were possible by virtue of the flexibility of the normative constraints implicit in (constitutive of) the practice. In all this, Armstrong exemplified how a precedent-setting performance of antecedently established practice can transform the practice itself, and perhaps initiate new ones. I should note at this point that the expressive freedom that Brandom articulates does not fixate upon novelty and innovation. Such freedom is "expressive" because it is also characterized by an increasingly explicit and self-critical understanding and articulation of the practices in question. Increasing adeptness at the practice is accompanied by increased capacity to become critically reflective about the practice-to identify and make explicit the proprieties that implicitly organize the practice. This puts practitioners in a position to subject those proprieties-and the practice itself-to criticism, commentary, contestation, and revision. To push the previous example forward, even though in the 1950s Louis Armstrong would come to disparage Dizzy Gillespie's invention of Be-bop jazz trumpeting as so much "Chinese music," Gillespie's innovation was as beholden to the influence of Armstrong's precedent as much as his playing radically transformed and departed from that precedent. ("No him, no me," Dizzy would say on the occasion of Armstrong's death.) Moreover, their occasionally abrasive exchanges explicitly raised questions about what jazz was and what it ought to be. Once explicit, the normative presuppositions behind these questions-and the proprieties implicit in the practice itself-became candidates for reflection, criticism, and modification or transformation in ways that they had not been before. Brandom presents an account of constraint and freedom similar to Fraser's reading of Foucault's "productive power" as occurring in the "simultaneously constraining and enabling . . . practice-governing norms." In Fraser's example, the constraints constitutive of language use "enable us to speak precisely insofar as they constrain us" (Foucault 1989, 31–32). Brandom fashions a conception of freedom through normative constraint comparable to Foucault's, which he refers to as "creative self-cultivation." Brandom writes, Freedom as Ethical Practice 427 Creative self-cultivation is possible only by means of the discipline of the social practices which constrain one, just as the production of a poem requires not only submission to the exigencies of a shared language, but the stricter discipline of the poetic tradition as well. One must speak some language to say anything at all, and the production and comprehension of novel performances requires a background of shared constraint [1985, 188–89]. Unlike Foucault, however, Brandom goes on to sketch out the social and political implications of this account. He proposes that the capacity for self-cultivation intrinsic to expressive social practices and practitioners provides a normative orientation for distinguishing better and worse types of constraints, and thus, social practices. Elsewhere Brandom explains, What matters about us morally, and so ultimately, politically is not ultimately to be understood in terms of . . . the avoidance of mammalian pain. It is the capacity each of us discursive creatures has to say things that no-one else has ever said, things furthermore that would never have been said if we did not say them. It is our capacity to transform the vocabularies in which we live and move and have our being, and so to create new ways of being (for creatures like us) [2000b, 178]. In other words, this normative substance of our social practices provides orientation for assessing the legitimacy of social and political arrangements. Brandom clarifies, Constraint of the individual by the social and political norms inherent in communal practices may be legitimate insofar as that constraint makes possible for the individual an expressive freedom which is otherwise impossible for him. . . . Political constraint is illegitimate insofar as it is not in the service of the cultivation of the expressive freedom of those who are constrained by it [1985, 188–89]. As the above passages indicate, Brandom avoids moving directly to the utilitarian calculus for the purposes of normative orientation. In other words, he sidesteps (at least initially) the kind of question that Rorty takes to be primary: has the sum total of human suffering (construed as mammalian pain) decreased in our society over the past century? Brandom would first ask questions like-have our political and social arrangements facilitated the cultivation of possibilities for novel performances of received practices? Have they fostered the capacities of communities and individuals to engage in, critically reflect upon, and thereby revise, expand, or alter those practices? Have those practices been expanded to recognize a broader range of practitioners and encompass increasingly diverse understandings and transformation of the practice itself? Ostensibly, Brandom could apply the same 428 Journal of Religious Ethics questions to Foucault's conception of self-creation as criteria for identifying better and worse instances of self-creation. Of course, even if Brandom's account here opens up a potential vista to a normative orientation for distinguishing between better and worse, acceptable and unacceptable sets of social practices and social and political norms, he leaves the political implications of his account woefully underdeveloped in his work. In other words, if Foucault errs in the direction of identifying the inescapability of power and domination in all social practices, Brandom errs in the direction of neglecting the ways that the social practices of which he writes are inscribed with systemic inequalities that often give rise to states of domination. In fact, Rorty suggests that Brandom's account of expressive freedom positively invites charges of "pseudo-aristocratic condescension and ivory-tower aestheticism" (2000, 189). Rorty writes, [Brandom] courts [these charges] when he sympathizes with my suggestion that 'our overarching public purpose should be to ensure that a hundred private flowers blossom.' He courts [these charges] . . . when he goes on to say that 'pain, and like it various sorts of social and economic deprivation, have a second-hand, but nonetheless genuine, moral significance' [2000, 189]. Notice that giving Brandom's notion of expressive freedom primacy of place as a criterion of assessment does not preclude attending to considerations of mammalian pain, or viewing such assessments as necessary to expressive freedom. In fact, freedom from mammalian pain is requisite for the cultivation of expressive freedom, just as certain basic physical and biological conditions are necessary for basic human survival and flourishing. Using expressive freedom as a normative gauge does preclude reducing our criteria for assessment to the sum total of human suffering. Nonetheless, Rorty's concern about the liability of assigning mammalian pain and suffering a secondary place raises important considerations. Does expressive freedom have a sufficiently sharp normative edge to accomplish what Brandom wants it to? Is Brandom's appeal to bildung (creative self-cultivation) yet another variation of privileged, bourgeois reformism? Lorde will suspect that expressive freedom is insufficiently radical in that it seeks to transform practices and institutions "from within." Can Brandom's account accommodate revolutionary praxis-the radical overturning of alienated conditions? This suspicion is all the more pressing because it might come not only from those who affirm that truly radical criticism must come from "outside," but also from thinkers who avow immanent forms of criticism as well. On precisely this basis, African liberation theologian Emmanuel Martey counters Lorde's repudiation of the master's tools in a way markedly different from the immanent forms of Freedom as Ethical Practice 429 resistance Brandom proposes. "Unlike Audrey Lorde, who might be wondering whether the master's tools could indeed be used to dismantle the master's house, African theologians are fully convinced that the gun, in efficient hands, could well kill its owner" (Martey 1994, 46). A trumpet is not a gun. This banal observation is worth stating only in order to highlight the crucial distinction that these images convey in the present context-namely, the difference between the pretensions of revolutionary praxis and the resistant and transformative potential of expressive freedom. The former seeks to annihilate the conditions of mastery (and, ostensibly, the master along with them) in order to reconstitute altogether the context and self. Expressive freedom, by contrast, proposes to transform the conditions of mastery through innovative appropriation and application of the antecedent norms and structures, thereby converting the master to a position of non-mastery. The revolutionary impulse is exemplified by Jean Paul Sartre's claims in the context of the Algerian War of Liberation against French colonial occupation that the colonized subject can reclaim and reconstitute his true humanity from subjugation only by exorcizing the colonizer. Thus Sartre writes that "killing a European is killing two birds with one stone, eliminating in one go oppressor and oppressed: leaving one man dead and the other man free" (quoted from Fanon 1963, lv). Here the master's tools (the colonizer's gun and the violence by which he colonized) are necessary instruments for the eradication of the master's house. Of course, Sartre's prescription for re-creation of one's self through exorcism of one's oppressor presupposes Sartre's conception of "the self"-a self that is free only apart from, and in spite of, normative constraints external and antecedent to it. Such a self "surges up in the world-and defines itself afterwards" (Sartre 1956, 290–91). On this account, one extricates oneself from constraints through an act of self-creation conceived of as an assertion of one's will. "The Other" is the source of restriction ("Hell is other people," Garcin famously concludes in No Exit). Sartre's conception is emblematic of a self that is authentic insofar as it unbinds itself from the context in which it lives and moves and has its being by projecting itself into the future in the interests of self-creation and emancipation. On such a view, annihilation of "the Other" is a viable-if not occasionally necessary- means for relieving one's self of external constraints. Transposed into Sartre's prescriptions for Algerian resistance to the French, "the colonized are cured of colonial neurosis by driving the colonist out by force" (quoted from Fanon 1963, lv).3 3 Foucault contrasts Sartre's conception of "self " to his own account of self-creation in "On the Genealogy of Ethics" (1997, 262). 430 Journal of Religious Ethics Sartre's account of freedom and constraint provides an instructive contrast to Brandom's. Brandom rereads Hegel's account of normative constraints as generated when social actors hold one another accountable in mutual recognition. In fact, selves become synthesized in inescapably normative encounters of mutual recognition. As Brandom explicates Hegel, "To call something a self" is "to treat it as an I, is to take up an essentially normative attitude toward it. It is to treat it as a subject of commitments, as something that can be responsible-hence as a potential knower and agent" (2002, 216). The engagement occurs as reciprocal responsibility of practitioner to practitioner, and the accountability of all the practitioners to the norms constitutive of the practice in question. It is the norm-laden form of sociality that makes social interaction possible and makes a practice a practice in the first place. So understood, mutual recognition is an essentially social achievement. One becomes an "I" by recognizing another-"a Thou"- and, in turn, being recognized. However, while selves are synthesized in mutual recognition, this does not reduce "selfhood" to a product of intersubjective consensus. Mutual recognition is a normative engagement in the important sense that it is something about which any participant in the engagement (or everyone) can be right or wrong, can misrecognize another. Say, for instance, that some "I" who recognizes other "Thous" as agents responsible for their attitudes and claims, and to whom he or she is responsible in turn, is refused recognition in return as a Thou. Say that she is recognized as an "It"-an object. Perhaps she is recognized as communicating and interacting with others in a derivative sense, and is ascribed something analogous to the status of a household pet or livestock. In a political framework that systematically denies the possibility of some group's capacity to participate in the practices of mutual recognition, each member of that group would be recognized not as an "I" or "Thou" but would be designated an "It." They would suffer some degree of what Orlando Patterson has called "social death"-a status that Patterson finds exemplified in practices of chattel slavery in the United States (2005, 5–9, 38–45, 337; see also Rawls 1996, 32–33). A society characterized by slave institutions and practices is predicated upon misrecognizing a group of people as lacking the basic capacities that make expressive freedom possible. Frequently, such institutional frameworks are structured in ways that intend to prohibit opportunities for the expressive freedom of those consigned to the status of subor nonhuman. Of course, one might press, often in such frameworks expressive freedom has flourished among parties whose capacities for expressive freedom have been systematically denied. It was, for instance, in the context of slavery and Jim Crow in the United States that expressive Freedom as Ethical Practice 431 forms like spirituals, the blues, and jazz were born and thrived among the black population, as did improvisational religious practices such as "call and response" and the rhetorical extemporization of black preachers. In these contexts, was it not the repressive and inhumane constraints of slave-owning practices that made "possible for the individual an expressive freedom which is otherwise impossible for him" (Brandom 1985, 188)? Does the fact that these forms of expressive innovation occurred within political and social frameworks predicated upon slavery legitimate that framework? If so, does not Brandom's notion of "expressive freedom as part of a process of cultivation of the self and of the community" lend legitimacy to that social and political framework? Again, the institution of slavery and the cultural and political frameworks that sustained it were predicated upon systematic refusals to recognize a particular group's capacity for expressive freedom. Moreover, the dominant practices and institutions within this framework produced and disseminated certain forms of knowledge that sustained those conditions. Many people living in the American slaveowning culture thought it quite self-evident that the creatures in question were less than fully human, created for labor, and thus to be property. The political framework instituted certain practices and prohibitions in order to perpetuate these understandings. Slaves were prohibited from religious instruction for more than a century. Once permitted to adopt the master's religion, they were usually subjected to accounts of it that perpetuated the master's understandings. Slaveholders deployed their own religious practices in innovative ways in order to perpetuate these understandings. Their practices of reading Christian Scripture, for instance, claimed that Jesus sanctioned the institution of slavery in his own day by having interacted with slaves lovingly, yet without ever condemning the institution itself. They claimed that God created a race of slaves by cursing Noah's son Ham, and invoked St. Paul's charge that slaves should obey their masters (Cannon 1996, 40–46). Slave masters justified slavery as a means of "converting the African heathen" to Christianity, portraying faithful service to one's master as the surest way to be faithful to one's heavenly Master (Raboteau 1978, chap. 6). In such a framework, the realization of expressive freedom on the part of those misrecognized and excluded as practitioners does not legitimate the framework. Rather, those instances of expressive freedom occur in spite of the best efforts of that framework to prohibit them and deny their possibility. As such, they constitute acts of resistance and critique. They challenge the legitimacy of the dominant framework by challenging the stories and understandings and legal practices used to legitimate and perpetuate it. In many cases they do 432 Journal of Religious Ethics this by appropriating the dominant practices and transforming them by employing their elements for different ends and in different contexts. James Cone points out, for example, that the negro spirituals and the blues grew out of the stories and characters from the Christian Scriptures (2004). In some cases, slaves directly appropriated hymns from the master's hymnbook, and stories from the master's Scriptures, and resituated them in the context of the work fields and slave congregations, or in the secrecy of slave quarters and "hush harbor" worship services. So resituating them radically altered their meanings. They became tools for coping and survival by being recast in ways that captured in song the sounds of the suffering, longing, and hope of the slaves in the fields. Eugene Genovese argues in his monumental text, Roll, Jordan, Roll, that for the individual slave, the stories of Jesus relativized the master's authority (1974). They "placed a master above his own master and thereby dissolved the moral and ideological ground on which the very principle of absolute human lordship must rest" (1974, 165). Just as importantly, "The religion practiced in the quarters gave the slaves the one thing they absolutely had to have if they were to resist being transformed into the Sambos they had been programmed to become. It fired them with a sense of their own worth before God and man" (1974, 165). Appropriations and innovative applications of stories and hymns from the master's religion also provided subversive tools when deployed as coded speech that facilitated passage along the Underground Railroad (Blount 1995). In each of these cases, the master's tools were innovatively appropriated and improvisationally employed, enabling the practitioners to "use the master's tools to dismantle the master's house." Such examples illustrate how the norms that make expressive freedom possible are everywhere, and can be employed in novel, improvisational, and resistant ways. Moreover, in the process, new traditions of creative expression were created. Appropriation and application of the master's tools did not merely permit periodically "beating the master at his own game." They also made possible resisting the game, and in time altering and transforming it in fundamental ways along with the very tools that they appropriated and applied. The legacy of slavery in the United States is one rather stark example of the kind of political framework for which Brandom's account is relevant when he claims that a political framework is illegitimate insofar as it is "not in service to the cultivation of expressive freedom of those who are constrained by it" (1985, 188–89). At first glance, this might seem to apply the account to an exceedingly easy test case. Do we need an account to provide a normative trajectory away from chattel slavery? Is not the path beyond such utter dehumanization of other Freedom as Ethical Practice 433 people fairly self-evident? In the contemporary United States, slave institutions and practices are no longer considered to be morally or socially acceptable or legal. Does this mean that the forms of domination and power that they quite publicly manifest have ceased to exist? The comforting sense that such is the case betrays the fact that the legacy of slavery and the ensuing era of Jim Crow remain alive in insidious and pervasive forms. Foucault describes these forms as invisibly inscribed upon our bodies and souls and shot through our personalities, desires, and the languages we speak. The explicit institutions of chattel slavery in the United States have ceased to exist, as well as many of the more explicit forms of domination, suffering, and mammalian pain that accompanied those institutions. But this is precisely the point at which expressive freedom provides a helpfully trenchant mode of assessment. For, if we gauge the adequacy and justness of present conditions exclusively by the sum total decrease of mammalian pain relative to the days in which chattel slavery was a central institution in our society, then severe forms of domination and inequality will remain insidiously invisible. Black people and people of color, and the poorest and most at risk, continue to struggle for full inclusion in North American and European societies that have long outlawed slavery. Yet many struggle for recognition as full participants in institutions and practices subtly coded by race, sexuality, class, and age that often most directly affect them. For many of these, the forms of expressive freedom that they exercise-in spite of structures and conditions that would prohibit them-operate as strategies and tactics for bare survival and minimal resistance. As an ideal point of normative orientation, expressive freedom will serve not just as bare existence and minimal resistance, but as the ends of the cultivation and expansion of human flourishing. Holding the lens of expressive freedom up to Foucault's latest writing helps to illuminate the normative orientation for power analysis that he was beginning to articulate at the time of his death. In his latest work, Foucault moved into a position that, at once, accommodates the best insights of Brandom's account of expressive freedom, and supplements its deficiencies by its unrelenting focus on the microoperations of power and domination. Foucault rephrased his earlier claim that "you see power everywhere, thus there is no room for freedom" to read "if there are relations of power in every social field, this is because there is freedom everywhere" (1997, 292). On this understanding, freedom is not merely a possibility, but a necessity that opens the way for multiple possibilities. Freedom understood as "ethical practice" becomes possible, according to Foucault, not in spite of but as a necessary correlate to inescapable relations of power. In fact, Foucault goes so far as to claim that the very possibility of 434 Journal of Religious Ethics relations of power presupposes freedom-that freedom is "the ontological condition of ethics" (1997, 292). Foucault explained this complex relation this way: [I]n power relations there is necessarily the possibility of resistance because if there were no possibility of resistance (of violent resistance, flight, deception, strategies capable of reversing the situation), there would be no power relations at all. . . . [P]ower relations are possible only insofar as the subjects are free. If one of them were completely at the other's disposal and became his thing, an object on which he could wreak boundless and limitless violence, there wouldn't be any relations of power. Thus, in order for power relations to come into play, there must be at least a certain degree of freedom on both sides [1997, 292]. At this point Foucault's position is quite close to Brandom's. To be an agent is to be constrained as a user of norms. To be a user of norms is to have the capacity (in principle) to resist prevailing practices and structures of domination by utilizing the normative constraints constitutive of the practices and structures. In fact, these constraints presuppose freedom for their very existence. To render the other as a "thing," as Foucault describes it here, is analogous to the kind of social death that occurs when a Thou is recognized merely as an It in the terms of Brandom's I/Thou account. This would require the eradication of the capacity for expressive freedom altogether. As we saw in the case of chattel slavery above, it would result in social death. Of course, at times, the most freedom that ethical practice makes possible is tactics of resistance for momentarily transgressing domination-miniscule cracks and fissures in the edifice of the master's house. Foucault explains, In a great many cases, power relations are fixed in such a way that they are perpetually asymmetrical and allow an extremely limited margin of freedom. To take what is undoubtedly a very simplified example, one cannot say that it was only men who wielded power in the conventional marital structure of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries; women had quite a few options: they could deceive their husbands, pilfer money from them, refuse them sex. Yet they were still in a state of domination insofar as these options were ultimately only stratagems that never succeeded in reversing the situation. In such cases of domination, be they economic, social, institutional, or sexual, the problem is knowing where resistance will develop [1997, 292–93]. Such cracks and fissures may remain short-lived and incidental. They might also give way to larger rifts and gaping holes. In any case, Foucault's later account of freedom as ethical practice-and of the care of the self as an ethical practice in particular-retains his concern with the systemic and immanent character of power analysis. Brandom's Freedom as Ethical Practice 435 account of expressive freedom helps us see that power analysis need not jeopardize a normative orientation by which to discern better and worse states of affairs or the possibility of agency (however slim) through which to resist those states of affairs. In the final section of this paper, I consider several objections to the social-critical potential of expressive freedom and self-creation. 3. Objections and Replies Demonstrating the normative orientation for critique and agency for resistance at a theoretical level will invite objections at the level of practical application. It will be claimed, for instance, that the innovation and improvisation made possible by expressive freedom could be assimilated by the circumstances of domination, and applied in ways that (however inadvertently) perpetuate and aid those circumstances. It was about such a reality that the American sociologist and social critic W. E. B. Du Bois wrote about in his book The Souls of Black Folk, originally published in 1903, when he described black people in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century United States as "born with a veil"-a "double consciousness": "this American world . . . yields him no true self-consciousness, but only lets him see himself through the revelation of the other world" (2003, 5). Du Bois continues, It is a peculiar sensation, this double consciousness, this sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his twoness-an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder [2003, 5]. With these words Du Bois identified conditions of self-loathing inscribed (often tacitly) in the personalities, upon the bodies, and self-conceptions of the people most disadvantaged in the whitesupremacist ethos of the United States. His notion of double consciousness points toward the ways that expressive freedom might be co-opted and deployed in ways that perpetuate states of domination. So, for example, while Armstrong remains one of the premier innovators in the history of jazz, in the eyes of many of his fellow musicians, all of his genius and transformative impact upon that art form never fully escaped its service to the prevailing conception of what a black entertainer could be and should do within a social and political context predicated upon white supremacy. In terms of Lorde's trope, in other words, Armstrong became a house entertainer for the master- applauded and admired so long as he fulfilled the master's expectations and kept his customers satisfied. For all its beauty and expressiveness, 436 Journal of Religious Ethics such innovation and improvisation exemplify the oppressors "keep[ing] the oppressed occupied with the master's concerns" (Lorde 1984, 113). Similarly, Frantz Fanon wrote disdainfully of the intellectuals among the colonized who had absorbed "the manners and forms of thought" from the colonialist bourgeoisie (Fanon 1963, 38–39). He thought that they had been insufficiently traumatized by the struggle for liberation. Their assimilated selves remained largely intact and, thus, in service to their colonizers. Do these concerns lead us back to Fraser's criticism of Foucault with which we began, namely, with the claim that power so suffuses all practices that there can be no way to critique, resist, and transform it? Is a double consciousness or assimilated self inescapable for those who are subjugated or have suffered under colonialism? Is any innovativeness thereby forced to reflect and perpetuate the master's rules and the master's system, even if in a novel formulation? It is at this point that Brandom's account of expressive freedom provides a crucial addition to Foucault's account. As we saw above, Brandom identifies the general result of expressive freedom as the ability to perform the practice in question in ways never before seen or heard and, thereby, contribute to the transformation of that practice (toward the end of new possibilities of what practices there are and what practitioners might be). Again, this entails the expressive capacity of making explicit the norms implicit in the practices and subjecting them to examination and criticism. Such critical explication makes those norms candidates for critical inspection and revision. From the vantage point of expressive freedom, then, it is no trivial occurrence that the assimilation of Armstrong's genius into mainstream, white supremacist culture was a point of contention between Armstrong and Dizzy, Miles Davis and John Coltrane-at least as much as their musical differences. The social and political implications of their music and musicianship-along with the terms under which they were praised and admired-all became objects of critical reflection and contestation. The arguments that ensued highlighted the ways that their practices were bound up with-and beholden to-various institutions, and laced with certain insidious dynamics of power. Jazz musicians and critics brought the institutional modes of exploitation to the level of conscious reflection (for instance, so-called "junkie labels," such as "Prestige," came to be known as "plantations" for underpaying musicians in small bills cash to make it easier for them to get from fix to fix) (Nisenson 1995, 66). They questioned why black musicians were prohibited from recording with whites early on, and what parts they were permitted to play or sing when such collaboration was later permitted. Illuminating the conditions that made the practice possible, the institutional structures that sustained it, as well as the implications of the practice were means of critically interrogating the past and Freedom as Ethical Practice 437 innovating forward in increasingly explicit and self-reflective forms of awareness and resistance. Any innovative move that did not facilitate opening up the practice to critical scrutiny, and thus to transformation, did not contribute to genuine freedom. Even so, some will say that the possibility of deliberative assessment of explicated norms implicit in practices remains at a potentially troubling level of abstraction. Critical tasks of holding one another accountable to the inferential proprieties of their claims and commitments often takes the form of a "disembodied logic of immanent critique" (Connolly 2001, 11). Moreover, it often deposits these tasks in the hands of professional logicians and philosophers trained to explicate and examine the logic implicit in ordinary practices. Brandom opens himself to this charge when he suggests that, because "making explicit what is implicit in concept-use generally is precisely the expressive role distinctive of logical vocabulary," it follows that "the road to ethics is paved with logic" (2000a, 372).4 If that is the case, such heavy reliance upon the tasks of deliberative explication risks passing over both the potential validity and the intransigence of "tacit" forms of knowledge such as sedimented intuitions, feelings, and perceptions that often resist explication, as well as the usefulness of nondeliberative modes of expression for purposes of resistance. As a result, the deliberative character of expressive freedom risks missing the full gravity of Du Bois's point about forms of self-loathing and disdain for the shape of one's body and skin color, which resist correction through deliberative interrogation, even after having been identified and made explicit. Embodiment is messy; the prejudices, intuitions, and desires that participate in actors' normative attitudes become entrenched, and do not easily respond to conceptual explication, deliberative interrogation, and willed adjustment. At the same time, acquiring an increasingly self-reflective and critical awareness of a practice might take forms other than the logical explication of inferential proprieties. Foucault, by contrast, pointed out time and again that the norms of practices are inscribed upon our bodies as much as they are shot through the words we use and ways we speak. They configure the spaces in which we live and move and the practices and institutions in and through which we dwell. These manifest themselves as habits and dispositions that often simply are not amenable to adjustment on the basis of explication, criticism, and argument. William Connolly provides an example to amplify the point: 4 Brandom does not fully endorse this characterization, but sets it forth as a possible reading of his project in Making It Explicit that will most likely appeal to Habermas. Hence, this criticism may be better addressed to Habermas's project. For Habermas's assessment of Brandom's project, see Habermas 2000, 322–55. 438 Journal of Religious Ethics Suppose you become wary of the sense of disgust or panic you feel in your gut when, say, atheists or gays articulate their orientations to death, marriage, or sex in public forums. The gut, we now know, contains a simple cortical organization; and the cultural transactions through which it is organized issue in thought-imbued intensities that make powerful claims upon your habits, actions, and intellectual judgments. Such heartfelt intuitions may not be movable by will or deliberation a lot, then. But they might yield a little to arts of the self and micropolitical practices that enact new versions of those interactions between sound, feeling, image, touch, concept, and belief through which the intuitions were organized in the first place [2001, 11]. Connolly's insight here about the often extreme difficulty in refashioning one's self fits more readily with Foucault's notion of "micro-politics" of the self than with Brandom's appeal to the logical explication and interrogation of norms implicit in practices and cultivation of expressive capacities. Of course, if this is a particular strength of Foucault's analysis, Charles Taylor points out that he never employs that strength at the level of association in common action. The politics of "self-creation" remained for Foucault "a completely solo operation, the achievement of lone virtuosi, who could learn from each other but did not need to associate with each other" (2001, 94–95). If Brandom's account can be made to accommodate Foucault's attention to the micropolitical dimension of self-cultivation, it might have the virtue of expanding that insight and applying it at the level of social and political frameworks. To be fair, the term "deliberation" is insufficient by itself to capture the full scope of the irreducibly social character of expressive freedom. Brandom draws the sphere of the "discursive" inclusively. This means that nonlinguistic moves such as all forms of perception and action are inferentially significant. They interweave with explicitly inferential practices of logical deliberation as "entryways" into and "exits" from chains of reasoning and speech.5 This means that what I attend to in a given context, how I pay attention to what is going on around me, and the ways that I act and interact in response to those goings-on are all discursively part and parcel of the deliberative practices that Brandom describes. It cannot be denied that Brandom does little to explicitly develop the implications for embodiment and a spatial situation of the embedded character of his inferentialism. However, because observation and embodied action are both part of the substance of discursive formation and activity, Brandom's account is, in principle at least, 5 See Sellars 1991, 321–58; Brandom 1994, 330–33, 618–32; and Stout 2002, 25–52. Freedom as Ethical Practice 439 amenable to explicit attention to embodiment, spatial configurations, and all forms of perceptual and contextual considerations.6 Of course, if Brandom's account attends to community concerns while Foucault's does not, we must see if it can avoid erring in the opposite direction and losing any sense of the individual. Brandom anticipates such an objection when he addresses "I-we" accounts of social practices (1994, 593–601, especially 599). On such accounts, the individual (I) stands individually over against the composite collection of individuals that takes the form of the community (we). Here, consensus of the community based upon intersubjective agreement cannot provide a final authoritative perspective. Rather, both communal consensus and individual claims are accountable to the norms implicit in the practices as well as the practical and empirical constraints that fill out the context (1994, 631–32). Consider, for instance, the extemporaneous speech delivered by the black abolitionist, Sojourner Truth, to the Women's Rights Convention in Akron, Ohio, in May 1851. On that occasion Sojourner Truth rose to the podium and addressed the audience in the face of protests from many of the white women there who feared having their cause mixed up with blacks and abolitionism ("Don't let her speak Mrs. Gage. It'll ruin us!" several insisted). According to Frances Gage's observational account of the event, from the perspectives of most in attendance that day, Truth was to be either lumped in with the general category of "women" by those who were willing to include her in their struggle for recognition, or she was to be excluded from the relevant sense of that category altogether because she was black and had been a slave. In this context, her very act of rising to the podium was a discursive incision in the deliberative engagement. Truth first responded to the white Protestant ministers who had addressed the convention the previous day. She began by selecting from among the resources they had invoked, yet was using their reasons to challenge their conclusions, holding them accountable to the substance of their own commitments and affirming her own conclusions as correct. One had claimed that the biblical witness commends that women should have fewer rights than men because "Christ wasn't a woman": "Whar did your Christ come from?" Truth responded, "From God and a woman! Man had nothin' to do wid Him" (Buhle and Buhle 1978, 104). She addressed a second objection that claimed that women were the fairer and frailer sex, and thus their status should be contingent upon that of men. With this response she replied both to 6 For trenchant criticism of Brandom's project along these lines, see Rouse 2002, 210–33, especially 222–25. 440 Journal of Religious Ethics those who would assimilate her to a general category of "woman," and to those who would exclude her altogether: 'Dat man ober dar say dat womin needs to be helped into carriages, and lifted ober ditches, and to hab de best place everywhar. Nobody eber helps me into carriages, or ober mud-puddles, or gibs me any best place!' And raising herself to her full height, and her voice to a pitch like rolling thunder, she asked. 'And ain't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! (and she bared her right arm to the shoulder, showing her tremendous muscular power). I have ploughed, and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man-when I could get it-and bear de lash as well! And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen chilern, and seen 'em mos' all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?' [Buhle and Buhle 1978, 104]. Truth's response assuages two persistent concerns about immanent criticism. First, it exemplifies how immanent criticism need not take the form of philosophical "logic-chopping." In this instance, Truth challenges and corrects her interlocutors' misrecognition of her in an immanent fashion. Specifically, she invokes her body as a black slave, her experiences as a mother whose children had been sold into slavery, Christian Scripture, and the fact that her grief and anguish-even if refused recognition by white masters-was not refused recognition by Jesus. This is anything but "logic-chopping immanent critique." This encounter might be redescribed as Truth challenging her interlocutors on the basis of the norms implicit in the practice of mutual recognition, saying-again, in effect-"You may think that you have deliberated effectively by factoring my standpoint into your assessments" (either by absorbing it into a general category of "woman" or excluding it altogether with the qualifications of "black" and "slave"). "However, here is how my standpoint defies your claims and commitments-and 'Ain't I a woman?' " For her purposes of correcting the uses of the word "woman" that prevailed in that situation it was no less discursively significant that Truth "bared her right arm to the shoulder, showing her muscular power" as it was that she coupled that action with the explicit edge of the question-"Ain't I a woman?" Her body entered into the deliberation in a way highlighted by Foucault's account, but only implied by Brandom's. Second, Truth's speech demonstrates that a social-practical account of critical deliberation does not lose the individual in a morass of intersubjective consensus about what is or is not, should or should not be, the case. Rather, Truth's was an instance of a lone voice standing against the consensus prevailing in a deliberative encounter and saying, in effect, "I am right and everyone else here is wrong!" and, indeed, being correct about it. The normative traction of her claim Freedom as Ethical Practice 441 came from the norms internal to the practice in question as well as from those implicit in the commitments of her fellow participants. Every perspective is accountable to these normative constraints, including the deliberative (intersubjective) consensus of the group itself.7 Truth's address that day in 1851 has been far more than a crack along the foundation of the white supremacist, misogynistic house of the master in the United States in the intervening century and a half. Her indictment has proved to be at least as searing, incisive, persuasive, and inspiring as Lorde's remark about the master's house would be roughly a century later. When read through the lens of expressive freedom, it models how the I/Thou encounter avoids investing the community-or even a prevailing consensus-with unassailable authority, and thereby losing the individual in a tangle of intersubjectivity. It is crucial to note here that this is not a recipe for the celebration of standing particularities and, thus, a tolerant multiculturalism or politics of difference. On this point, Lorde is correct that the talk of "toleration of difference" so common in the mainstream Academy in recent decades amounts to easy reformism. "Difference"-understood as the normative particularity of the individual perspective-is a basis for resistance. It is a central feature of a framework of discursive exchange based upon accountability and judgment, and thus (plausibly) confrontation and agonism. It is a framework within which each voice and perspective can, in principle, challenge any (and potentially every) other participant in the exchange. Of course, in practice, there is no perfectly level discursive playing field. And, in spite of the potential for Brandom's thought to be expanded in the above directions, clearly it needs something like Foucault's unrelenting attentiveness to the forms of domination and inequalities inscribed within-and perpetuated by-the very expressive practices that Brandom explicates. If I am right about the ways that their projects might be utilized to supplement one another, then the work of freedom-while "undefined"-is not without direction. Freedom becomes aware of itself as ethical practice (Foucault 1997, 286–87). Some inquiring skeptic will want to know why "freedom" is to be preferred to oppression from the vantage point of expressive freedom. It is important to keep in mind the nature of the central claim in Brandom's account. On one hand, it is essentialist in the sense that to be a "self" is to be an essentially norm-using creature. To be essentially norm-using is to be constrained in ways in which freedom is the 7 Brandom makes this crucial point when he draws a distinction between I-Thou and I-We accounts (1994, 593–601, especially 599). 442 Journal of Religious Ethics necessary result. This banal freedom is reflected at the workaday level by the fact that originality is the norm rather than the exception in the most basic acts of human speaking and acting. Even the most concerted and perhaps well-trained efforts at exact replications of an action or performance will be nonidentical and, thus, unique. Of course, the ethical and political import of expressive freedom (for Brandom and in Foucault's later work) becomes actualized only insofar as it is identified, critically reflected upon, innovated and improvised with, and expanded. This is what it means for freedom to become aware of itself as ethical practice. Does this not tie Brandom's account to a troublingly teleological claim-a claim that expressive freedom is the given end of what it means to be human, that humans ought to be able to pursue that end? Have we finally identified a point at which Brandom and Foucault must part company? Perhaps not. In expressive freedom, Brandom agrees with Foucault that one can never tell in advance from which quarter, or in what forms, innovation and resistance will come. So understood, the teleological element of freedom thus "undefined" is intrinsically open-ended. The particular form of this freedom will be conceived within and in response to particular social and historical circumstances. The forms it will take, and precisely how it might press against its antecedent constraints and concrete circumstances, are impossible to predict beforehand. What it will entail is the increased agency of the people involved in those circumstances, as well as their accountability to one another and to the practices in which they engage. Using the example of linguistic practices, Brandom describes the increased agency afforded by expressive freedom as the increased "capacity to transform the vocabularies [and practices] in which we live and move and have our being" by the practitioners who use these vocabularies (1985, 178). This is an "openended" telos in the sense that "transforming the vocabularies in which we live and move and have our being" transforms the particular conceptions of the telos in question, and thereby "creates new ways of being" (1985, 178). In other words, the telos of expressive freedom can be fulfilled only insofar as any particular conception of what the telos is remains subject to critical assessment, expansion, and revision, and is, from time to time, rearticulated and transformed. To become an adept user of a vocabulary (and thus, to fulfill the telos of a language user, so conceived) is to speak in ways that no one has ever spoken before, thereby enriching the vocabulary, the practice, (potentially) to alter the vocabulary itself, and thus, to revising (however subtly) the telos of the practice as concretely conceived at that point. It is gradually to be able to formulate and articulate ideas and intentions that were previously unknown or not possible for the speaker, and perhaps for the community of speakers. This contributes to what a vocabulary Freedom as Ethical Practice 443 is and what it means to be an adept user of a vocabulary. As such, expressive freedom is "teleological" in a formal sense. Its goal has no endpoint or form that is not subject to revision or expansion, just as Armstrong's mastery of the trumpet redefined what it meant to "master" the trumpet. Armstrong's virtuosity at the practice altered the practice and the normative conceptions organizing it. He exemplified freedom through normative constraint in which the telos of a practice can be fulfilled only in so far as that telos is simultaneously challenged, enriched, and transformed. Of course, the question about revolutionary praxis implied by Lorde's claim about dismantling the master's house remains to be answered. In contrast to Sartre's claim to free the self by annihilating the self 's oppressor, Brandom's expressive freedom and Foucault's self-creation are both deeply suspicious about claims that a self can ever wholly "disencumber" and refashion itself from scratch. Likewise, they are both deeply suspicious of claims that the ground of a given context can be cleared and entirely reframed. In fact, it is usually the revolutionary pretensions to accomplish just such conditions-promises of an "absolute emancipation"-that result in the opposite of what they intend. Foucault remained convinced that it is not sufficient (though perhaps it is necessary) to simply speak of liberation from repressive circumstances. "[W]hen a colonized people attempts to liberate itself from its colonizers, this is indeed a practice of liberation in the strict sense," he wrote, "but we know very well . . . that this practice of liberation is not in itself sufficient to define the practices of freedom that will still be needed if this people, this society, and these individuals are to be able to define admissible and acceptable forms of existence or political society" (1994, 282–83). Expressive freedom affords an orientation by which to gauge the development of those practices of freedom, namely, in the direction of expanded and more encompassing forms of expressive freedom. These will be marked by the increased capacities and opportunities of those who had been dominated-or been denied candidacy as agents for whom expressive freedom was even possible-to participate in the dismantling of that domination, refashioning and transforming oppressive conditions. In my judgment, the resistant and transformative potentials of expressive freedom do not present one horn of the old revolution/reform dilemma. Rather, they aid the kind of analysis that might mediate this dilemma. The best scholarship on slave religion in the United States has already articulated the standing complexity between reform and revolution that occurred in that context. In his landmark study, Slave Religion, Al Raboteau made the case that the roles of slave religion defy an either/or categorization of resisting/sustaining the status quo (1978). He writes, 444 Journal of Religious Ethics Institutionally, the egalitarian impulse of evangelical Protestantism, leveling all men before God and lifting some up to declare his word with power and authority, gave slaves and free blacks the opportunity to exercise leadership. Usually this leadership was not revolutionary and from the perspective of political strategy it was overwhelmingly conservative. Yet political action is not the only measure of resistance to oppression. Despite political impotence, the black preacher was still a figure of power as an unmistakable symbol of the talent and ability of black men, a fact which contradicted the doctrine of inherent black inferiority. As white slaveholders occasionally recognized, black preachers were anomalous, if not dangerous, persons under the system of slave control precisely because their authority could not be effectively limited by whites [1978, 63]. It is this anomalous element characteristic of the black preacher's role in that context (among other roles, practices, and institutions) that most needs analysis.8 This practice became effective as a form of resistance precisely because it fit easily on neither side of a revolution/ reform antinomy. Nat Turner and John Brown had both led slaves to rise up against their masters. The perspective of expressive freedom is compatible with the claim that they were morally justified in doing so insofar as they employed just and proportionate means. However, in both cases, revolutionary violence presented a highly manageable form of resistance. The masters knew precisely how to quash resistance in that form, and both uprisings were quickly put down by military responses. That said, used as a gauge for assessing the acceptability and deficiency of social arrangements-and thus when and how to challenge and resist those social and political conditions-expressive freedom provides grounds for declaring the portions of such structures that support those conditions deficient and for defying them. Revolutionary activity could not be precluded in principle.9 And yet, what the term "revolutionary" describes has come to be reconceived within a framework of expressive freedom. It can no longer be conceived of as 8 I do not have space to extend the present article to include a more detailed analysis of the roles of slave preachers and black preachers as exemplars of expressive freedom. The literature on slave religion is mixed on this point, and calls for cautious consideration in light of the framework I am developing here. While Genovese's assessment is compatible with Raboteau's above remarks, Genovese further emphasizes the political limitations that accompanied the forms of resistance and innovation that slave and black religion make possible (Genovese 1974, 280–84; West 1997; and West 2002, 32–36). 9 I do not propose to answer this question once and for all in this essay. Richard Bernstein helpfully frames the conundrum by juxtaposing John Dewey's faith in the reformist capacities of critical intelligence to Karl Marx's claims on behalf of revolutionary praxis (1999, 80–81). I do think that the resistant and transformative capacities of "freedom as ethical practice" provide a means of mediating this dilemma. Freedom as Ethical Practice 445 the forever-deferred arrival of a new age (or reinstatement of a previous epoch) in which all that was is finally overcome with the result of absolute emancipation. It is, instead, reframed by the recognition that freedom is an ever-unfinished but ever-possible practical project made possible by normative constraints presently available, rather than the absence or alleged eradication of those constraints.10 REFERENCES Bernstein, Richard 1999 Praxis and Action: Contemporary Philosophies of Human Activity. Philadelphia, Pa.: University of Pennsylvania. Blount, Brian 1995 Cultural Hermeneutics. Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress Press. Brandom, Robert 1985 "Freedom and Constraint by Norms." In Hermeneutics and Praxis, edited by Robert Hollinger, 173–91. South Bend, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press. 1994 Making It Explicit: Reasoning, Representing and Discursive Commitment. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. 2000a "Facts, Norms, and Normative Facts: A Reply to Habermas." European Journal of Philosophy 8.3: 356–74. 2000b "Vocabularies of Pragmatism: Synthesizing Naturalism and Historicism." In Rorty and His Critics, edited by Robert Brandom, 156–82. Oxford: Blackwell. 2002 Tales of the Mighty Dead. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Buhle, Mari Jo, and Paul Buhle, eds. 1978 The Concise History of Woman Suffrage: Selections from the Classic Work of Stanton, Anthony, Gage and Harper. Champaign, Ill.: University of Illinois Press. Cannon, Katie 1996 Katie's Canon. New York: Continuum. Chomsky, Noam 1965 Aspects of the Theory of Syntax. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT University Press. Cone, James 2004 The Spirituals and the Blues. Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis. 10 I presented an earlier version of this paper to the Pragmatism and Empiricism Group at the 2006 American Academy of Religion annual conference in Washington, D.C. I benefited from Wayne Proudfoot's response to the paper and from criticisms and questions raised by Eddie Glaude, Tal Lewis, Jeffrey Stout, Mark Cladis, Mark Lance, and Matt Bagger. 446 Journal of Religious Ethics Connolly, William 2001 "Politics and Vision." In Democracy and Vision: Sheldon Wolin and the Vicissitudes of the Political, edited by Aryeh Botwinick and William E. Connolly, 3–24. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. Dreyfus, Hubert, and Paul Rabinow 1982 Michel Foucault: Beyond Structuralism and Hermeneutics. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Du Bois, W. E. B. 2003 The Souls of Black Folk. 1903. New York: The Modern Library. Fanon, Frantz 1963 The Wretched of the Earth. Translated by Constance Farrington with a Preface by Jean-Paul Sartre. New York: Groves Press. Foucault, Michel 1984 The Foucault Reader. Edited by Paul Rabinow. New York: Pantheon. 1989 "Sex, Power and the Politics of Identity." In Foucault Live: Collected Interviews, 1961–1984, edited by Sylvere Lotringer, 382–90. New York: Semiotext(e). 1997 Ethics: Subjectivity and Truth. Edited by Paul Rabinow. New York: The New Press. Fraser, Nancy 1989 Unruly Practices. Minneapolis, Minn.: University of Minnesota Press. Genovese, Eugene 1974 Roll, Jordan, Roll: The World the Slaves Made. New York: Random House. Habermas, Jurgen 2000 "From Kant to Hegel: On Robert Brandom's Philosophy of Language." European Journal of Philosophy 8.3: 322–55. Lorde, Audre 1984 Sister Outsider. Berkeley, Calif.: Crossing Press. Martey, Emmanuel 1994 African Theology. Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis. May, Todd 1993 Between Genealogy and Epistemology. University Park, Penn.: Pennsylvania State University Press. Nehamas, Alexander 1998 The Art of Living. Berkeley, Calif.: University of California Press. Nisenson, Eric 1995 Ascension: John Coltrane and His Quest. New York: Da Capo. Patterson, Orlando 2005 Slavery and Social Death. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Raboteau, Albert 1978 Slave Religion. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Freedom as Ethical Practice 447 Rawls, John 1996 Political Liberalism. New York: Columbia University Press. Rorty, Richard 1991 "Moral Identity and Private Autonomy: The Case of Foucault." In Essays on Heidegger and Others: Philosophical Papers, vol. 2, 193–198. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 1998 Achieving Our Country. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. 1999 Philosophy and Social Hope. New York: Penguin Books. 2000 "Reply to Brandom." In Rorty and His Critics, edited by Robert Brandom, 183–90. Oxford: Blackwell. Rouse, Joseph 2002 How Scientific Practices Matter: Reclaiming Philosophical Naturalism. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Sartre, Jean-Paul 1956 "Existentialism Is a Humanism." In Existentialism from Dostoevsky to Sartre, edited by Walter Kaufman, 345–68. New York: The World Publishing Company. Sellars, Wilfrid 1991 Science, Perception and Reality. Atascadero, Calif.: Ridgeview Publishing. Stout, Jeffrey 2002 "Radical Interpretation and Pragmatism: Davidson, Rorty and Brandom on Truth." In Radical Interpretation in Religion, edited by Nancy Frankenberry, 25–52. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Taylor, Charles 2001 "A Tension in Modern Democracy." In Democracy and Vision: Sheldon Wolin and the Vicissitudes of the Political, edited by Aryeh Botwinick and William E. Connolly, 79–95. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. West, Cornel 1997 "The Ignoble Paradox of Western Modernity." Foreword from Spirits of the Passage: The Transatlantic Slave Trade in the Seventeenth Century, edited by Madelaine Burnside and Rosemarie Robotham, 8–10. New York: Simon & Schuster. 2002 Prophesy Deliverance! An Afro-American Revolutionary Christianity. Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox. 448 Journal of Religious Ethics
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Proposal for an evolutionary approach to self-consciousness (Feb 8th 2014) Christophe Menant Abstract It is pretty obvious to most of us that self-consciousness is a product of evolution. But its nature is unknown. We propose here a scenario addressing a possible evolutionary nature of self-consciousness covering the segment linking pre-human primates to humans. The scenario is based on evolutions of representations and of inter-subjectivity that could have taken place within the minds of our pre-human ancestors 1 . We begin by situating self-consciousness relatively to other aspects of human consciousness. With the help of anthropology, we date a possible starting point of our scenario at a time when our non self-conscious pre-human ancestors were able to build meaningful representations and were capable of intersubjectivity, like are our today modern apes. As the proposed scenario is based on an evolution of representations, we recall an existing model for meaningful representations based on the generation of meaningful information by systems submitted to internal constraints. This model allows us to define representations of conspecifics and auto-representations that we assume as having been present in the minds of our pre-human ancestors. The next step of the scenario is to consider an evolution of inter-subjectivity towards identification with conspecifics that could have led to a merger of the auto-representation with the representations of conspecifics in the minds of our ancestors. Such a merger brought the auto-representation to become about an entity existing in the environment, as were the representations of conspecifics. We consider that such identification with conspecifics has introduced in the mind of our ancestors an elementary and embryonic sense of being an existing entity that we name 'ancestral self-consciousness'. The same process has also imposed to our ancestors an identification with suffering or endangered conspecifics which has produced an important anxiety increase that could have blocked the evolutionary process. We propose that the performances developed by our ancestors to manage that anxiety increase have also generated significant evolutionary advantages that have helped the development of ancestral self-consciousness and favored its evolution toward our full-fledged selfconsciousness. It is also proposed that some pre-human primates have avoided the anxiety increase by finding a niche where evolutionary advantages were not necessary. This may have led to our today apes. The contribution of anxiety to the proposed scenario brings to position anxiety management as having guided the evolution of self-consciousness and as still being a key player in our today human minds. Regarding philosophy of mind, possible links between phenomenal consciousness and the proposed nature of self-consciousness are introduced. The conclusion presents a summary of the points addressed here. Possible continuations are highlighted as related to human mind, to anxiety management and to artificial intelligence. Keywords: self-consciousness, pre-human, meaningful representation, auto-representation, inter-subjectivity, evolution, anxiety, evolutionary engine, ancestral self-consciousness, primitive self-consciousness, pre-reflective self-consciousness, phenomenal consciousness. 1 The current paper is an enriched summary of presentations made at TSC and ASSC conferences, and elsewhere (Menant, 2005, 2006, 2010 a & b). 2 1) Consciousness and self-consciousness. Humans, apes and pre-human primates Human consciousness is a product of evolution. Few people would today disagree with an evolutionary history of human mind. But human consciousness is a complex and still mysterious performance. Different perspectives have been developed to try to understand it. Among the key ones: as concepts of consciousness like phenomenal consciousness, access consciousness, monitoring consciousness and self-consciousness (Block, 1995); as functions of consciousness like adaptation and learning (Baars, 1993); as levels of consciousness like core consciousness and extended consciousness (Damasio, 1999); as self-representational theory of consciousness where a mental state is phenomenally conscious iff it represents itself in the right way (Kriegel, 2012). The choice made here is to focus on self-consciousness following an evolutionary approach. We define self-consciousness as being 'the representation of oneself as an existing entity like others humans are represented as existing' (representations are here understood as being meaningful representations 2 ). Such a definition of self-consciousness refers to the representations of conspecifics and does not use the concept of self. It is different from defining self-consciousness as 'the possession of the concept of the self and the ability to use this concept in thinking about oneself.' (Block, 1995). In the proposed evolutionary approach self-consciousness is the consciousness of oneself as an existing entity rather than the consciousness of a self 3 . Regarding self-consciousness in philosophy of mind it is worth noticing that at the end of the 20th century self-consciousness 'has fallen on hard times. Though once regarded as the very essence of mind, most philosophers and psychologists today treat it as a marginal and derivative phenomenon' (Van Gulick, 1988). But the beginning of our 21st century is presenting a new perspective where self-consciousness is becoming a subject of interest under various thematics (Crone & al., 2012). Some address human self-representations (Vosgerau, 2009). Others take evolution into account without expliciting a possible scenario (Carruthers & al., 2012). What we propose here is to formalize an evolutionary scenario that starts at a time when our non self-conscious pre-human ancestors were managing meaningful representations and were capable of inter-subjectivity. The former performance exists in primates as most animals manage meaningful representations of elements of their environment (like predators or preys) in order to satisfy survival constraints. Regarding the performance of inter-subjectivity, anthropology has shown that 'around six million years ago, our pre-human ancestors might have had such capacities that broadly resembled those of some modern apes' (Bednarik, 2003). As modern apes are non self-conscious primates capable of inter-subjectivity, we can compare them to our pre-human ancestors and position the starting point of our evolutionary scenario at around six millions years ago. This comparison from primatology positions the behaviour of modern apes as close to the ones of these pre-human ancestors. It allows us to refer to what we know about the behaviour and characteristics of the former to address the ones of the later. A first point coming from this comparison is that our pre-human ancestors were far from having our mental capacities as modern apes lack several human performances and have a brain much smaller than ours. Like today apes, our ancestors had a limited access 2 Meaningful representations have been defined as networks of meaningful information [Menant, 2011]. Their characteristics and usages in the current paper are presented in the next paragraph 3 The concept of self is not needed in the proposed scenario. We will however look at introducing it as based on the evolutionary nature of self-consciousness presented here (see 5). 3 to concepts and causality (Woodward, 2007) and had no access to human type language. As our scenario uses the notion of meaningful representation managed by pre-human primates, we need to provide clear enough a background about such representations that we position as meaningful for the agent that carries them 4 . The next paragraph will recall the definitions of meaningful information and representations with applications to representations of conspecifics and to auto-representation that we use in our scenario. 2) Evolutions of representations and of inter-subjectivity. The possibility for selfconsciousness in evolution 2.1 Meaningful representations. Representations of conspecifics and auto-representation As introduced above, the proposed scenario about an evolutionary nature of selfconsciousness began 6 million years ago. It uses an evolution of the meaningful representations that our pre-human ancestors were carrying. Meaningful representations are made of meaningful information understood as information generated by systems submitted to internal constraints. Such approach can be summarized as follows: When a system submitted to an internal constraint receives information from its environment, it can generate meaningful information (a meaning) that will be used to implement an action in order to satisfy the constraint. The generated meaning is the connection existing between the received information and the constraint. A meaning generation process has been formalized in terms of a Meaning Generator System (MGS) (Menant, 2003). The MGS is represented in Fig 1. Fig. 1.The Meaning Generator System. As an example a monkey has a 'stay alive' constraint to satisfy (like all animals have). If the monkey sees a hyena, the connection of the sensed information with the constraint will 4 Our starting point is meaningful representations for non self-conscious animals, not for human minds. The proposed approach is not to be considered as part of the 'Representational Theories of Consciousness' (Lycan, 2006) which are about representations in human minds. 4 produce meaningful information like 'danger'. And that meaning will trigger an action like hiding or getting away in order to satisfy the constraint. On a general standpoint, agents contain several different MGSs (different sensors delivering different information, different constraints, different connections between received information and constraints). As a consequence, the perception of an item generates several different meanings within an agent. These meanings are networked and include the existing action scenarios related to the satisfaction of the constraint. All these elements participate to the build up of a meaningful representation of the item for the agent. Our monkeys represent hyenas under different components (shape, sound, odor, environmental changes, ...) including the action scenarios that are permanently enriched. As another example, meaningful representations of stones and sticks carried by our pre-human ancestors included their usage to crack nuts and to collect termites. Meaningful representations are constraint satisfaction driven. The constraint satisfaction processes dynamically embed the agent in its environment. For an agent, a meaningful representation of an item of the environment is made of: Meanings generated by information relative to the item that the agent receives from its environment. Meanings generated by information related to the item and coming from inside the agent. (for an organism: interoception, proprioception, action scenarios with history of outcomes and emotions). These elements of the representation are interdependent and characterize the represented entity 5 . Representations do not exist alone, by themselves. They are generated by and for the agent carrying the MGSs for the satisfaction of the agent's constraints. These representations are dynamic as connected to past and future actions related to the represented entity. They are updated through new experiences 6 . The above applies to our evolutionary approach where animals are agents that have to satisfy stay alive and group life constraints. Animals have intense relations with the items of their environments in terms of constraints satisfactions. They generate and use meaningful representations of these items, and these representations contain the characteristic 'belongs to the environment' which is an implicit part of the meanings. Among the many items of the environment that are represented within animals sharing a group life, there is one that deserves a specific attention for our scenario. It is the representation of conspecifics. As our pre-human ancestors were quite similar to modern apes, we can look at the behavior of the latter to address the relations with conspecifics of the former. Group life of modern apes goes with interdependencies and hierarchies among elements of the group, with dominances and conflicts. Such a relational context implies the need for detailed representations of conspecifics as global entities existing in the environment and interacting with it. The same was true for our pre-human ancestors where the components of these representations were the ones of items of the environment as presented above. Such meaningful representations were mandatory for the satisfaction of vital constraints and group life constraints. There is another type of representation carried by our pre-human ancestors that is important 5 The term 'representation' is to be understood as addressing meaningful representations. 6 Such meaningful representations contain only the meanings related to the represented item for the agent. They do not include all possible aspects of the represented item which would lead to a combinational explosion. The MGS approach avoids the problems of GOFAI type representations (Menant, 2011). 5 for our scenario. Our pre-human ancestors also received information from their own bodies and from the actions they implemented on the environment. Different parts of the body could be seen like hands and feet, or felt by tactile sensation. Vocalisations could be heard also. Actions implemented on the environment were perceived with their results modifying that environment. All these information made available meanings about the body with the associated emotions. This brings to consider that our pre-human ancestors were carrying an 'auto-representation' 7 made of representations of different parts of the body with the action scenarios relative to the interactions with the environment, including past experiences and emotions. But that auto-representation carried by our ancestors was very limited as compared to the representations that we humans have of ourselves. This because our pre-human ancestors had small brain sizes as compared to ours and were not conscious of themselves as overall entities existing in the environment. They were not self-conscious. 2.2 Pre-human primates inter-subjectivity and identification with conspecifics. Ancestral self-consciousness Inter-subjectivity is the sharing of perceptual or affective experiences between two or more subjects. We humans possess a high degree of inter-subjectivity. Several animal studies have shown that some modern apes are capable of inter-subjectivity related to empathy (Preston & de Waal, 2002), to bodily mimesis (Zlatev, 2000), and to mirror neurons (Gallese, 2001). By similarity we can assume that our pre-human primate ancestors were capable of intersubjectivity. Identification with others is a higher level of performances. We humans are capable of identifying with others on physical and mental standpoints. We can easily put ourselves in the shoes of other humans and understand their desires, their intentions and their emotions. We use these performances, mostly unconsciously, for joint action, for imitation and for the understanding of others. Regarding modern apes, their capability to identify with conspecifics is subject of debates in the research community (Zlatev, 2000), (Decety & Chaminade, 2003), (Tomasello & all.2005). Whatever our progresses in the understanding of primate mental performances, we can agree that the performance of identifying with conspecifics came up in evolution sometime between our pre-human ancestors and us humans. Our position here is to assume that the evolutionary level of our pre-human ancestors was ready to implement an elementary and limited level of identification with conspecifics. And it is logical to consider that such performance has been favoured by evolution as it introduced some evolutionary advantages 8 . When our ancestors reached the capability to identify with their conspecifics, they were carrying the two types of meaningful representations presented in the previous paragraph: an auto-representation and representations of conspecifics. Identification with conspecifics brought the auto-representation and the representations of conspecifics to progressively become about a same entity. As a consequence, the two representations tended to merge their contents, and the meanings of the one became available to the other. By this process the autorepresentation became able to access a characteristic of the representation of conspecifics: being about an entity existing in the environment. This brought our ancestors to slowly access the possibility to represent themselves as existing entities, like the conspecifics were 7 We choose for our non self-conscious ancestors the wording 'auto-representation' in order to avoid using 'selfrepresentation' which could call for the concept of self that we do not need to use here. 8 These evolutionary advantages were elementary and limited versions of the benefits that we human get from identification with conspecifics (like joint action and imitation). 6 represented. This new performance began very slowly and progressively. The first elements of the auto-representation to participate to that process were probably the ones related to the body that were quite identical in the representations of conspecifics, like hands, feet and vocalizations. We want to consider that such evolution of the auto-representation acquiring progressively the characteristics of the representation of an entity existing in the environment has generated the first elements of self-consciousness in the minds of our ancestors 9 . We take this event as having been the first step of primates into the world of self-consciousness. Identification with conspecifics began by delivering only an elementary and embryonic sense of being an existing entity which was very far from the full-fledged self-consciousness that we humans carry nowdays. But it is clear that a primate accessing a representation of herself, even if very limited, as an entity existing in the environment is a new performance in evolution. Such a performance did not exist before and has to be characterized and named. Philosophers have developed concepts like primitive self-consciousness or pre-reflective selfconsciousness that can be related to some aspects of our today self-consciousness. But these concepts are based on the performances of human minds existing in our today brains which are bigger and more performant than the brains of our pre-human ancestors. It looks difficult to relate these concepts to pre-human minds deprived of self-consciousness. In order to avoid the questions and problems that would be risen by using these concepts at this level of our approach, we prefer introducing an original naming. As that elementary and embryonic version of self-consciousness initially came up in the mind of our pre-human ancestors, we propose to call it 'ancestral self-consciousness' and define it as an elementary and embryonic representation of oneself as an existing entity, like conspecifics are represented as existing. At this level of our approach, a few points relative to the nature of that embryonic selfconsciousness are to be highlighted: The representational nature of ancestral self-consciousness is to be underlined. Ancestral self-consciousness was carried by our ancestors as a representation of themselves as existing in the environment in a limited and embryonic form. It came from a merger of the autorepresentation with the representations of conspecifics. Both were meaningful representations. Language was not mandatory for the coming up of that ancestral self-consciousness. If group life was needed for the first elements of self-consciousness to come through the process of identification with conspecifics, language was not a prerequisite. We will see in the next paragraph how language, on an evolutionary advantage basis, has been part of the evolution of self-consciousness in the proposed approach. The 'elementary and embryonic sense of being an existing entity' is taken globally. It does not look realistic for such a limited level of self-consciousness to introduce specificities about first or third person perspectives, or about self-consciousness as subject or as object. This position will be readdressed when looking at the evolution of ancestral self-consciousness towards our full-fledged self-consciousness (4.1). -The coming up of ancestral self-consciousness and its evolution toward full-fledged selfconsciousness look as natural events with the evolutionary advantages brought by the identification with conspecifics. But we will see in the next paragraph that the identification with conspecifics has also been the source of an anxiety increase that came as an obstacle to the coming up of ancestral self-consciousness. At this level of our approach, selfconsciousness is only a possibility in evolution. 9 This is consistent with the definition of self-consciousness given in the first paragraph:'the representation of oneself as an existing entity like others humans are represented as existing' 7 3) Anxiety as an evolutionary engine. The high probability for self-consciousness 3.1 Identification with conspecifics and anxiety increase. Evolution toward selfconsciousness or not The performance of identification with conspecifics has been an important step in primate evolution: it has made ancestral self-consciousness a possibility. But identification with conspecifics also produced an important anxiety increase. Six million years ago the environment of pre-human primates was one of survival of the fittest with many dangers and risks. Representations of endangered or suffering relatives were also part of the representation of conspecifics. By identifying with these conspecifics, our ancestors were brought to feel the dangers, sufferings, pains and distresses encountered by the conspecifics, which came in addition to her own ones. These negative emotions about potentially dangerous situations were many and diverse. They were memorized and generated anticipations of threats. Overall, a dramatic upsurge in potential vulnerability was created, a traumatism leading to an important anxiety increase. Anxiety is a feeling of uneasiness, apprehension or fear related to threats that are perceived to be uncontrollable or unavoidable. Such multiple sources of fears encountered by our pre-human ancestors led to an important anxiety increase. Normal anxiety is a positive emotion as it allows early alerts against threats. It has been shaped by natural selection (Marks & Nesse, 1994). But too much anxiety has negative impacts perturbating mental and physical activities. It can lead to panic. Pathological anxiety triggers behavioural responses lacking adaptive value. This is true for humans and for some animals (Ohl & al., 2008). Such an increase in anxiety may have impacted the survival conditions of the prehumans facing it and become unbearable. We correspondingly propose that the evolution of pre-human primates accessing the level of identification with conspecifics met a forking path with two options. The first one was to avoid the unbearable sufferings coming from the anxiety increase. That option implied for these primates to stop the identification with conspecifics and the associated evolutionary process. Such option has blocked the evolution of pre-human primates before they could access the performance of ancestral selfconsciousness, and it has probably led to our today modern apes through ecological niches that allowed survival without significant performances increase. The second option was to cope at best with the level of anxiety, to maintain the identification with conspecifics with its evolutionary advantages and find ways to limit the anxiety increase. That option allowed an access to ancestral self-consciousness and a continuation of the evolutionary process toward full-fledged self-consciousness. We develop that option in the next paragraphs with the anxiety limitation processes. Fig 2 represents the forking path in our evolutionary scenario where the limitation of anxiety had to be sufficient to allow our pre-human ancestors to build up the level of ancestral selfconsciousness and open the way to an evolution toward full-fledged self-consciousness. As shown in Fig 2, the scenario proposes that ancestral self-consciousness, besides participating to the evolution toward full-fledged self-consciousness, has continued to exist through evolution. Ancestral self-consciousness holds a generic position as being an elementary sense of being an existing entity. We want to consider that we still carry in the background of our human mind a diffuse sense of being, sourced in ancestral selfconsciousness. The consequences of that position are highlighted here after (4.1 & 5). 8 Fig.2Forking path in the evolution of self-consciousness 3.2 Evolutionary advantages of anxiety limitation. An evolutionary engine toward selfconsciousness The previous paragraph has shown that the high anxiety increase encountered by our prehuman ancestors had to be limited in order to allow the coming up of ancestral selfconsciousness and its evolution toward our today full-fledged self-consciousness. We need now to present the corresponding anxiety limitation processes that our ancestors may have gone through, and see how these processes have also introduced important evolutionary advantages that have significantly leveraged the overall evolutionary process toward selfconsciousness. We have seen that the anxiety increase came from the identification with suffering or endangered conspecifics which produced a feeling of increased vulnerability. Two sets of actions may have been implemented by our ancestors in order to limit that anxiety and the corresponding vulnerabilities: reduce the sufferings of conspecifics, and enhance the efficiencies of group and of individuals. To reduce the sufferings of conspecifics, our ancestors had to care more for them, in terms of protection and in terms of consolation. Regarding protection, our ancestors may have developed alert systems for warning of dangers, implemented defenses against the dangers like predators, and taken care of wounded conspecifics. Consolation was with empathy acting 9 close to the conspecifics. These improvements in conspecifics caring and consolation were reciprocal. They amplified inter-subjectivity and identifications with others. Regarding the enhancement of group and individual efficiencies, we assume that they began with the development of the modest performances brought in at the beginning of identification with conspecifics like joint action and imitation. More formal cooperations were then developed with coordinated actions, understanding of other's mental states, tasks simulations with action programs improvements and communications. These performances were interdependent and called for the development of other ones like social rules, social learning and teaching, and language. These performances, initially developed for anxiety limitation purposes, had obvious evolutionary advantages. Their implementation has accelerated the overall evolutionary process towards self-consciousness. The development of ancestral selfconsciousness was not any more hampered by a high anxiety level and the evolution of ancestral self-consciousness toward our full-fledged self-consciousness was accelerated. Perhaps these evolutionary advantages could have occurred through a classic evolutionary process using selections after random mutations, without the proposed scenario. But our ancestors were not much used to cooperate with each other. They preferred living in a context of competitive social interactions as do today apes (Tomasello & al., 2005). Changing their behaviors into cooperation was not natural. We propose here that it is the specific need to limit the anxiety increase that has led our ancestors to changes their social behavior, with the resulting evolutionary advantages locking the process. So the hypothesis presented here is that the performances initially implemented for anxiety limitation have dramatically accelerated the development of evolutionary advantages leading to self-consciousness. As part of the process, the amplification of inter-subjectivity and identification with conspecifics associated to these performances has introduced a positive feedback loop which has produced an acceleration in the evolutionary process. Overall, we can say that the performances implemented by our ancestors in order to limit the anxiety increase have created an evolutionary engine, accelerating and strongly favoring the coming up of self-consciousness in evolution. This characteristic of our scenario highlights the importance of anxiety limitation as a human specificity attached to the nature of selfconsciousness since its dawn in evolution. Fig 3 summarizes the key points of the scenario about the evolutionary approach to ancestral self-consciousness and to full-fledged self-consciousness. The overall evolutionary scenario brings to highlight the following points: a) Anxiety limitation, as a new constraint for our ancestors, has participated to the generation of many new anxiety related meanings (see meaning generation in Fig 1). Many representations existing in the minds of our pre-human ancestors became populated with anxiety related meanings during the evolution toward ancestral self-consciousness and fullfledged self-consciousness. We will also see hereunder (4.1) how the anxiety limitation processes have by themselves generated new anxieties that had in turn to be limited. We regroup under the term 'anxiety management' the chaining and networking of anxiety limitations with generations of new anxieties to be limited. b) The evolutionary advantages sometimes presented as associated to self-consciousness are not directly related to the performance of self-consciousness. These evolutionary advantages are related to the process that brought up self-consciousness 10 . 10 Such a statement will need to be re-addressed when the relations between free will and self-consciousness will be better understood. 10 Fig. 3. Evolutionary approach to ancestral self-consciousness and to self-consciousness. c) The explanation about the nature of self-consciousness as it is proposed here is based on an evolution of the performances carried by our pre-human ancestors: inter-subjectivity and management of meaningful representations. Inter-subjectivity cannot come up alone in the mind of an individual. Inter-subjectivity needs at least two persons. To come up in evolution, self-consciousness needed the others. Self-consciousness is a result of group life. Also, selfconsciousness came up with the evolution of life and does not exist in the inanimate world. As the nature of life is unknown to today science and philosophy, the proposed evolutionary scenario is an explanation about the nature of self-consciousness if we do not question the nature of life. Such a status brings up questions regarding the possibility to create artificial intelligence without mastering artificial life (Menant, 2013). d) In the previous paragraphs, the occurrence of human self-consciousness in evolution was a possibility resulting from a combination of representations with an evolution of intersubjectivity. The evolutionary engine as introduced here has significantly increased that possibility of occurrence and raised it at a level of high probability. 4) Evolution from ancestral self-consciousness to full-fledged self-consciousness 4.1 From ancestral self-consciousness to full-fledged self-consciousness The evolutionary scenario presented here above has proposed an explanation for the nature of an elementary and embryonic form of self-consciousness that we have named 'ancestral selfconsciousness'. Successful anxiety limitation with the resulting evolutionary engine opened 11 the road for an evolution of ancestral self-consciousness toward full-fledged selfconsciousness. A formal analysis of that evolution is a subject deserving a specific work that is beyond the scope of the current paper 11 . We group under three headings the items that we feel should be taken into account in that work: evolutionary scenario, ancestral selfconsciousness and anxiety management. a) Evolutionary scenario: Our ancestral self-consciousness has been built up through an evolution of meaningful representations based on constraint satisfaction. The evolution of ancestral self-consciousness toward full-fledged self-consciousness should contain and use a similar representational system with the coming up of new constraints. Also, in addition to the assumed initial forking path based on anxiety management that led to humans and modern apes, others may have occurred during the evolution from ancestral selfconsciousness toward full-fledged self-consciousness. Part of Neanderthal extinction could perhaps be looked at that way. b) Ancestral self-consciousness: We have proposed that ancestral self-consciousness, an elementary and embryonic sense of being an existing entity, has not disappeared during her evolution toward our today fullfledged self-consciousness. Ancestral self-consciousness has been enriched and transformed during that evolution and we consider that she is still existing and active as a diffuse sense of being in the background of our today human self-conscious mind. We humans are not all the time explicitly conscious of being. We are not all the time in self-conscious mental states but most often in a diffuse sense of being, close to the one produced by ancestral selfconsciousness. It is an implicit state, ready to make available an explicit 'I am' when our relations with the world or with ourselves request it. Such diffuse sense of being could be what evolution has left in our minds as inherited from the early stages of self-consciousness in evolution. The evolution from ancestral to full-fledged self-consciousness should take into account such possible continuations of ancestral self-consciousness. We have considered that first or third person perspectives as well as subject or object ones did not apply to ancestral self-consciousness. But these perspectives exist relatively to our today self-consciousness. They are to be taken into account in the evolution of ancestral selfconsciousness toward full-fledged self-consciousness. Work is in process on that subject (Menant 2014). c) Anxiety management: Our pre-human ancestors have implemented anxiety limitation processes allowing the coming up of ancestral self-consciousness and favoring the evolution toward full-fledged selfconsciousness. It is worth considering that these anxiety limitation processes may have by themselves introduced new sources of anxieties (which had in turn also to be limited). We consider that such anxiety management has been part of the evolution from ancestral selfconsciousness toward full-fledged self-consciousness, and is still active today. Examples are many. The simple cases about lack of reciprocity in caring and consolation, or about the risk of being excluded from the more and more performant group were new sources of anxities. Identifications with conspecifics also allowed the manipulation of others with reciprocity in counter measures introducing an evolutionary spiraling of 'machiavellian intelligence' (Byrne & Whiten, 1988). Such processes were also sources of new anxieties. Another example is the over usage of imitation: through excessive imitation our ancestors may have over-developed 11 Studies exist about the evolution of human cooperation [Tomasello & all, 2012]. But the contribution of anxiety limitation does not figure as a key parameter. 12 the desire of what the other had or did up to impacting the overall group stability. Such perspective can be related to the mimetic theory where pre-humans borrowed their desires from conspecifics, leading to mimetic rivalry and to scapegoat mechanisms introducing sacrifice at the foundation of human culture (Girard, 2010). The sacrifice, as an action implemented to limit the anxiety of the group, has developed new individual anxieties coming from the fear of being sacrified. These creations of new anxieties were mostly unconscious and have penetrated all the aspect of life, leading to a sort of anxiety about being in the world. Also, as noted above, anxiety management as a permanent constraint brought in a permanent generation of anxiety related meanings in the minds of our ancestors. All these anxiety related meanings have been driving forces in human evolution, marking profoundly the nature of human mind with its potential psychological sufferings. Overall we can say that the evolution towards self-consciousness has been interwoven with permanent processes of anxiety management becoming an intimate part of human nature and probably contributing to many human specificities at individual and social levels. Such interdependence linking evolution towards self-consciousness and anxiety management deserves specific studies. 4.2 Possible links with phenomenal consciousness We have seen that different perspectives can be used to address human consciousness. The choice in the current paper is to focus on self-consciousness understood as 'the representation of oneself as an existing entity like others humans are represented as existing'. But the focus of today philosophy of mind is not on self-consciousness. It is on phenomenal consciousness, a key component of phenomenology. 'Phenomenal consciousness is experience; what makes a state phenomenally conscious is that there is something 'it is like' (Nagel 1974) to be in that sate' (Block, 1995). Phenomenal consciousness has connections with self-consciousness. For phenomenologists 'a minimal form of self-consciousness is a constant structural feature of conscious experience'. And 'this immediate and first-personal givenness of experiential phenomena must be accounted for in terms of a pre-reflective self-consciousness' which is present whenever we are undergoing an experience (Gallagher & Zahavi, 2010). The minimal form of self-consciousness of phenomenology looks close to the implicit sense of being an existing entity that characterizes ancestral self-consciousness in our today minds. This brings up the interest about comparing the nature of ancestral self-consciousness in our today minds with pre-reflective self-consciousness (assuming that the first/third person perspectives have been explicited for ancestral self-consciousness in our today minds). This comparison could introduce links between phenomenal consciousness and the proposed evolutionary nature of self-consciousness. Concerns about keeping self-consciousness firmly distinguished from phenomenal-consciousness are to be taken into account (Block, 1995). More work is needed on this subject. 5) Continuations to the proposed evolutionary approach Among the points addressed in the above scenario, several call for more developments and could be part of a continuation to the current paper. Some have already been listed above as related to the evolution of ancestral self-consciousness towards full-fledged selfconsciousness and to the possible links with phenomenal consciousness. Others can be summarized as related to human mind, to anxiety management and to artificial intelligence. a) As related to human mind. Ancestral self-consciousness has been introduced as the first step of our pre-human 13 ancestors in an elementary form of self-consciousness which has evolved up to our today fullfledged self-consciousness, while staying active in our human mind. As proposed above, evolutionary relations are to be looked for between pre-reflective selfconsciousness and what remains in our today mind from ancestral self-consciousness. Such relations could also be looked for regarding primitive self-consciousness. The concept of self has not been used in our evolutionary approach as it was not needed. But that concept is part of other approaches to human mind like proto-self, core-self or, autobiographical self (Damasio, 1999). The concept is also used when defining selfconsciousness as 'the possession of the concept of the self and the ability to use this concept in thinking about oneself.' (Block, 1995). It would be interesting to look at positioning a concept of human self relatively to self-consciousness as introduced here, and see how such concept could eventually be transposed to animals. The proposed evolutionary scenario uses meaningful representations as generated by systems submitted to constraints. Human constraints are not well known. They are complex and difficult to define. 'Limit anxiety' and 'look for happiness' can be generic ones. Work is needed to better address and understand human constraints (Menant, 2011). Inter-subjectivity is key to our evolutionary scenario. But its nature is not clearly understood by today science or philosophy. The performances associated to mirror neurons could probably be used as a starting point to gain some understanding about the nature of intersubjectivity (Ferrari & Gallese, 2007). Human evolution is still active today and will probably go beyond us. We do not think that our today full-fledged self-consciousness represents the ultimate version of human selfconsciousness. A continuation of the proposed evolutionary scenario could provide a thread for that subject. Our evolutionary scenario has not addressed the concept of free will. The issue of free will is a philosophical problem which has complex links with self-consciousness. We propose, as a continuation, to look at how the issue of free will could be linked to the nature of selfconsciousness as presented here. b) As related to anxiety management. We humans share with animals basic emotions like fear and anger. But other emotions like happiness or contempt look more human specific. The proposed evolutionary scenario for self-consciousness could be used as a tool for investigating a phylogenesis of human emotions. We have proposed that anxiety management has been a key contributor to the evolution of self-consciousness. It has been part of the birth of ancestral self-consciousness and of its evolution toward full-fledged self-consciousness. A more finalized analysis about the interactions of anxiety management with self-consciousness could bring new understandings on human nature in terms of motivations and actions. This subject deserves more developments including a possible dark side with human evil possibly rooted in anxiety management. As our evolution is not over this could shed some light on a possible maturing of human self-consciousness. Also, anxiety disorders being among today most common mental illnesses, analyzing the couplings between anxiety limitation and new anxieties creations could bring openings on that subject. It has been proposed here that too much anxiety may have stopped the ongoing evolution of some pre-human primates and has guided them on a side track that led to today great apes. It would be interesting to transpose such a phylogenetic process on ontogenetic ones and consider excessive anxiety at individual level as a contributor to severe human mental 14 disorders. Existential angst as presented by existentialism could be analized as an elaborated consequence of anxiety management being an intimate part of human mind (the sort of anxiety about being in the world introduced above). c) As related to artificial intelligence. The purpose of artificial intelligence is to design artificial agents that can be as intelligent as humans. Making available an evolutionary scenario for self-consciousness brings up the question about its usability for artificial agents. Applications of the scenario to artificial intelligence bring to consider an inter-agentivity as being to artificial agents what inter-subjectivity is to living entities (Menant, 2007). The MGS can be used to define derived meaningful representations in artificial agents. The notion of inter-agentivity is to be developed, keeping in mind the intrinsicness of animal and human constraints and meanings as compared to the derived nature of the ones in artificial agents. Such differentiation of constraints and meanings as derived or intrinsic to the agent can be used to analyze the possibility for machine thinking (Menant, 2013). In order to bring intrinsic constraints in artificial agents, the need to extend living entities into artificial agents may have to be considered. Such perspectives (which are beyond today hybrid artificial agents and neurons in artificial agent data processing) are to be investigated. Such approach also highlights specific ethical concerns (Menant 2013). 6) Conclusion The proposed scenario about an evolutionary nature of self-consciousness is based on an evolution of inter-subjectivity and meaningful representations that has brought our pre-human ancestors to identify with their conspecifics. This process has led our ancestors to access an elementary and embryonic representation of themselves as existing entities, like conspecifics they identified with were represented as existing. We have named it 'ancestral selfconsciousness' and assumed that it is still present and active as a diffuse sense of being in the background of our today self-conscious minds. By the same process, identification with suffering or endangered conspecifics has generated an important anxiety increase, unbearable if not properly limited. To limit that anxiety our ancestors have favoured the development of coordinated action, understanding of other's mental states, tasks simulation with action programs improvements and communication. These performances were interdependent and have called for the development of other ones like social rules, social learning and teaching, and language. These performances, associated with a positive feedback on inter-subjectivity, have built up an evolutionary engine which has allowed our ancestors to develop their ancestral self-consciousness up to our today fullfledged self-consciousness. This evolutionary engine is based on anxiety limitation and positions human nature as closely interwoven with anxiety management processes that have become part of our behaviors and social organizations. It has been proposed that the evolutionary scenario could be used as a tool for investigating a phylogenesis of human emotions, and also as a thread for a better understanding of severe human mental disorders. Possible forking paths in evolution related to unsuccessful anxiety managements have also been presented, one leading to our today modern apes. The proposed approach also shows that the evolutionary advantages that can be attached to self-consciousness come from the evolutionary engine that has favoured her coming up rather than from self-consciousness by herself. Similarities between ancestral self-consciousness and pre-reflective self-consciousness have 15 introduced links to be investigated between phenomenal consciousness and the proposed evolutionary nature of self-consciousness. Possible continuations to the above scenario have been highlighted as related to human mind, to anxiety management and to artificial intelligence. References Baars, B. J. (1993) A functional theory of consciousness, Cambridge Universty Press. Bednarik, R.G. (2003) A figurine from the African Acheulian', Current Anthropology, 44 (3), pp. 405-413. Block, N. (1995) On a confusion about a function of consciousness, Behavioral and Brain Sciences 18 (2): 227-287. Byrne, R. & Whiten, A. (eds.) (1988) Machiavellian intelligence: Social expertise and the evolution of intellect in monkeys, apes, and humans, Oxford University Press. Carruthers, P. Fletcher, L. & Richtie, J. (2012) Evolving Self-Consciousness [Online], http://consciousnessonline.files.wordpress.com/2012/02/carruthers-evolving-selfconsciousness-copy.pdf [13 Jan 2014]. Crone, K. Musholt, K. and Strasser, A. (2012) Towards an integrated theory of selfconsciousness, in Crone, K. Musholt, K. & Strasser, A. (eds.) Facets of Self-Consciousness. Grazer Philosophische Studien. Rodopi. Damasio, A. (1999) The feeling of what happens, Harvest book HARCOURT Inc. Decety, J. & Chaminade, T. (2003) When the self represents the other: A new cognitive neuroscience view on psychological identification, Consciousness and Cognition 12 (4), pp. 577-596. Ferrari P.F. & Gallese V. (2007) Mirror neurons and inter-subjectivity, in Braten, S. (ed.) On being moved. From mirror neurons to empathy, John Benjamins Publishing Company. Gallagher, S. & Zahavi, D. (2010) Phenomenological Approaches to Self-Consciousness, [Online], http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/self-consciousness-phenomenological/ [13 Jan 2014]. Gallese, V. (2001) The shared manifold' hypothesis. From mirror neurons to empathy, Journal of Consciousness Studies, 8 (5-7), pp. 33-50. Girard, R. (2010) Les origines de la culture, Fayard, Pluriel. Kriegel, R. (2012) Precis of Subjective Consciousness: A Self-Representational Theory. Philosophical Studies, 159 (2012): 443-445. Lycan, W. (2006) Representational Theories of Consciousness, [Online], http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/consciousness-representational/ [13 Jan 2014]. Marks, I.M. & Nesse, R.M. (1994) Fear and Fitness: An Evolutionary Analysis of Anxiety Disorders, Ethology and Sociobiology, 15, pp 247-261. Menant, C. (2003) Information and Meaning, [Online], http://www.mdpi.org/entropy/papers/e5020193.pdf [12 Jan 2014]. Menant, C. (2005) Evolution and Mirror Neurons. An Introduction to the Nature of SelfConsciousness, [Online], http://cogprints.org/4533/ [12 Jan 2014]. Menant, C. (2006) Evolution of Representations and Inter-subjectivity as sources of the Self. An Introduction to the Nature of Self-Consciousness. [Online], http://cogprints.org/4957/ [12 Jan 2014]. Menant, C. (2007) Proposal for an Approach to Artificial Consciousness Based on SelfConsciousness, [Online], http://www.aaai.org/Papers/Symposia/Fall/2007/FS-07-01/FS07-01-020.pdf [7 Jan 2014]. 16 Menant, C. (2010, a) Evolutionary Advantages of Inter-subjectivity and Self-Consciousness through Improvements of Action Programs, [Online], http://cogprints.org/6831/ [7 Jan 2014]. Menant, C. (2010, b) Proposal for a shared evolutionary nature of language and consciousness, [Online], http://cogprints.org/7067/ [7 Jan 2014]. Menant, C. (2011) Computation on Information, Meaning and Representations: An Evolutionary Approach, in Dodig-Crnkovic, G. & Burgin, M. (eds.) Information and Computation: Essays on Scientific and Philosophical Understanding of Foundations of Information and Computation, World Scientific. Menant, C. (2013) Turing Test, Chinese Room Argument, Symbol Grounding Problem. Meanings in Artificial Agents, [Online], http://c.ymcdn.com/sites/www.apaonline.org/resource/collection/EADE8D52-8D02-41369A2A-729368501E43/ComputersV13n1.pdf [7 Jan 2014]. Menant, C. (2014) Consciousness of oneself as object and as subject. Proposal for an evolutionary approach, [Online], http://crmenant.free.fr/Abstract-TSC2014-C.Menant.pdf [7 Jan 2014]. Ohl, F. Arndt, S.S. & van der Staay, F. J. (2008) Pathological anxiety in animals, The Veterinary Journal, 175 (1), pp.18-26. Preston, S.D. & de Waal, F.B.M. (2002) Empathy: Its ultimate and proximate bases, Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 25, pp. 1–72. Tomasello, M. Carpenter, M. Call, J. Behne, T. & Moll, H. (2005) Understanding and sharing intentions: The origins of cultural cognition, Behavioral and brain sciences, 28 (5), pp. 675– 691. Tomasello, M. Melis, A. P. Tennie, C. Wyman, E. Herrmann. E. (2012), Two Key Steps in the Evolution of Human Cooperation. The Interdependence Hypothesis. Current Anthropology, Volume 53, Number 6. Van Gulick, R. (1988) A functionalist plea for self-consciousness, The Philosophical Review, 97 (2), pp. 149-188. Vosgerau, G (2009) Mental Representation and Self-Consciousness: From Basic SelfRepresentation to Self-Related Cognition, Paderborn: Mentis. Woodward, J. (2007) Interventionist Theories of Causation in Psychological Perspective, in Gopnik, A. and L. Schulz, L. (eds.) Causal Learning: Psychology, Philosophy and Computation, Oxford University Press. Zlatev, J. (2000) The mimetic origins of self-consciousness in phylo-, ontoand robotgenesis, Industrial Electronics Society, 2000. IECON 2000. 26th Annual Conference of the IEEE -
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Law, Culture and the Humanities 1 –27 © The Author(s) 2016 Reprints and permissions: sagepub.co.uk/journalsPermissions.nav DOI: 10.1177/1743872116660778 lch.sagepub.com LAW, CULTURE AND THE HUMANITIES Derrida's Kafka and the Imagined Boundary of Legal Knowledge William E. Conklin University of Windsor, Canada Abstract This article raises the critical issue as to why there has been assumed to be a boundary to legal knowledge. In response to such an issue I focus upon the works of Jacques Derrida who, amongst other things, was concerned with the boundary of the disciplines of Literature, Philosophy and Law. The article argues that the boundary delimits the law as if the inside of a boundary to territorial-like legal space in legal consciousness. Such a space is not possible without the boundary. Derrida's most insightful essay in this regard is his study of Franz Kafka's untitled parable in The Trial. The parable represents a man who waits for an invitation to enter the Law until he nears his end. Derrida responds to the parable in his essay, "Before the Law." This article uses the parable and Derrida's response to it as a starting-off point for a reconsideration of the boundary of legal knowledge. In this context, Derrida asks this question: "why is Kafka's parable categorized as Literature or Law?" Such an issue depends upon the boundary of a discipline, according to Derrida. And that focus, in turn, asks whether the boundary pre-exists any text which is represented as "Literature" or "Law" or "Philosophy." This article claims, however, that Derrida's theory presupposes that law, as a discipline, encloses a territorial-like space in legal consciousness. Each discipline possesses such a space. So too does the state and the university. Inside this bounded space, officials of the Law are free to consciously deliberate, reflect, and render decisions about the context of the Law. Analytically and phenomenologically before the boundary is taken for granted in an academic discipline, however, there is an unbounded nonlaw. The aporia of Derrida's theory of the boundary of the Law is that the official or expert knower of the official language inside the boundary cannot assume the imagined boundary of legal knowledge without implicitly claiming to know the exteriority to the boundary. And yet, officials and expert knowers cannot know such an exterior extra-legality because, by virtue of the boundary as encircling a territorial-like space, knowledge is considered legal only when it exists inside the boundary. "The Law" is the consequence of the imagination of the expert knowers of the language as well as of the non-expert who believes in the bounded territorial-like space. Corresponding author: William E. Conklin, Faculty of Law, University of Windsor, Windsor, ON N9B 3P4, Canada. Email: [email protected] 660778 LCH0010.1177/1743872116660778Law, Culture and the HumanitiesConklin research-article2016 Article 2 Law, Culture and the Humanities 1. The parable is untitled although it has been named by various commentators, translators and publishers as 'Before the Law', 'The Man from the Country', 'The Parable of the Man from the Country', 'The Gate-keeper' and perhaps other titles. References to the parable in my text defer to the translation in Kafka's The Trial (New York: Schocken Books, 1968 [1937 in German]), pp. 212–15. The parable can also be found as 'Before the Law' (trans by Willa and Edwin Muir) in Franz Kafka: the Complete Stories, ed by Nauum N Glatzer with a Foreward by John Updike (New York: Schocken Books 1971), pp. 3–4. 2. Derrida, 'Before the Law' in Acts of Literature ed by Derek Attridge (New York, London: Routledge, 1992), pp. 183–220. Keywords Kafka, Derrida, Law, language, boundary, legal knowledge, stranger, in-group, academic disciplines, university, Literature, Philosophy Jacques Derrida poses a fundamental question concerning the nature of legal knowledge. He asks whether it is possible for one to ask fundamental questions about the nature of law as a discipline as opposed to other disciplines such as Literature or Philosophy. The clue to Derrida's response concerns the boundary of any discipline and, in particular, the legal discipline. The boundary sets the limit of legal language. If one finds oneself outside the boundary, one is a stranger to the Law as a language. So too, the boundary forecloses examination of issues, texts, evidence or arguments which are said to dwell outside the boundary. As one commonly hears from law deans and law colleagues, certain issues, texts, evidence or arguments belong to "Philosophy" or "Literature" or "Law and Society." I wish to examine the nature of the boundary of legal knowledge in an effort to better understand my own discipline though I have too commonly had my own day-today efforts excluded as extra-law. The clue to my effort is that Derrida postulates a boundary which delimits law as a special sense of legal space. I shall address such a postulate in his works, shared as it is with others, and I shall work out the ramifications and problems of such a postulate for Derrida as for our contemporary understanding of the nature of law. Derrida's most insightful essay in this regard is his study of Franz Kafka's little untitled parable in The Trial.1 Derrida calls his essay, "Before the Law."2 I shall retrieve the parable in section I of my effort. In section II, I shall outline Derrida's theory as to the nature of the boundary of the Law by turning to his interpretation of Kafka's parable. In Section III, I shall highlight how such a boundary encloses a territorial-like space in legal consciousness. In Section IV, I argue that Derrida shares such a belief in a territorial-like space with contemporary interpretations of Kafka's parable. Section V argues that from the standpoint inside the boundary, the gate-keeper and expert knowers of the legal language imagine the Law as the inverse of their institutional self-image. In Section VI I argue that the imagined boundary is a-temporal and therefore arbitrary. I conclude with an aporia coloring Derrida's interpretation of Kafka's parable about a man from the country. Conklin 3 3. One must presume that the gate-keeper also offers him bread and water – perhaps food – as we learn that the man stands and then sits before the law until he nears his finite end. He could not live very long without bread, water and food. 4. Actually, Kafka does not say that the man dies. Rather, Kafka says that "the man is nearing his end and his hearing is failing." I. Before the Law In Franz Kafka's little parable, a man from the country ventures to the Law to search for a legal remedy for harm he experienced back home. Just before the parable is recounted, K, hitherto overwhelmed by his own experiences before the law, is stunned that legal officials do not recognize his personally experienced events as elements pertaining to the Law. When K turns to a priest for advice – the priest himself an official of the Law – K rhetorically exclaims that "these are only my personal experiences." What is crucial for my argument is that the priest simply ignores K's exclamation: "[t]here was still no answer from above" (211). Why does the Law not respond to K's personal experiences? Why does the man from the country seek access to the Law if not for a recognition of his personally experienced harm? The man from the country can only imagine or, better, rely upon the official's (the gate-keeper's) recounting of what others have said about the center of the Law. The closer one accesses the center, the gate-keeper reports, the more violent is the Law. To add to such reported violence by the Law, the man from the country, like K, is shocked to experience that he is never recognized as a legal person by the Law. This lack of recognition is manifested by the absence of any invitation by legal officials for the man to enter the Law. Without such recognition, the boundary of the Law remains enforced and yet, mystically autonomous in character and origin. The boundary of the Law even remains autonomous of the gate-keeper. The gatekeeper stands with his back turned towards the boundary of the Law. The gate-keeper, that is, does not perceive the boundary of the Law. Instead, the gate-keeper and the man face each other as if the Law were autonomous vis-à-vis each of them and their personal experiences. The gate-keeper, whom I interpret as a lawyer, guards "the Law" although he admits that he really does not know what is inside the law. He can only report what others inside the doorway have said about the Law. The man from the country, for his part, learns that each complainant has only one door into the law. The gate-keeper privately exhibits a humane attitude towards the man by offering him a chair.3 The door to the Law remains open. The gate-keeper, though, discourages the man from entering through the doorway until a formal or informal invitation is offered. Against his initial expectations in the formal accessibility of the Law, the man passively waits for an invitation to be heard and, as he waits, he becomes weak and frail, eventually "nearing his end" after he waits his years on the chair (214).4 Just before his end, the gate-keeper announces that "[n]o one but you could gain admittance through this door, since this door was intended for you. I am now going to shut it." The interminable question about the Law remains. Why would the officials inside the doorway maintain an open door just for the man from the country and then, close the door without inviting the man to cross the threshold into the Law's inner sanctum? 4 Law, Culture and the Humanities Without being invited, the man from the country is unrecognized by the Law. Without being so recognized, the man from the country tries to access the Law as a stranger to the Law. The man experiences a life of waiting as such a stranger. The man from the country comes before the Law as if the Law pre-existed the man's experienced event in the country. After all, one might expect, why would he have tried to access the Law if the Law did not pre-exist the harm to the man in calendar time and physical space? The man presumably waits for officials to apply rules and other cognitive standards to "the facts" about the man's having been harmed in the country. The man's previous experience of having been harmed does not cause the Law or its officials to act. Nor does the man actively take over the Law – rather, the man passively accepts the Law's authority and the Law's invitation to enter. The man does not impose his will upon the gate-keeper nor upon the officials inside the doorway. Why does the man from the country passively and patiently defer to the Law? Does one's response to this question rest in the nature of the Law itself? Or does one's response lie in one's image about the Law? I now wish to suggest the latter. The boundary of legal knowledge depends upon an image of the Law as space. What needs emphasis at this point, however, is that the man has come to the Law with a cluster of beliefs about the Law. This cluster of beliefs manifests what is taken for granted in a liberal legal system. And yet, it is just such a cluster of beliefs which seems to be undermined in the man's effort to access the Law. We have learned early-on that a series of intriguing obstacles have prevented the man from the country from accessing the Law: "these are difficulties which the man from the country has not expected to meet" (213). What were the man's cluster of beliefs which induced his difficulties? First, one is assured that everyone, including the man, accepts the legitimacy of the law: importantly, "the Law, he thinks, should be accessible to every man and at all times" (213). As explained, "everyone strives to attain the Law" (214) and, again, there is "access to the law by everyone at all times," or so it is believed (215). This claim about "everyone" suggests that the Law or a discrete law universally applies to everyone within its boundary. The man expects that the universals in the law will be applied to everyone falling inside the boundary of each universal. Such universals contrast with the man's personally experienced contingent events. There is always the possibility that the man's experiences about the Law will fall outside the boundary of the universality of a discrete law or outside the discipline Law in general. Indeed, the parable raises the prospect that anyone's experienced events might fall outside the boundary of the Law as a discipline. This may be so in that the universality of the Law is only possible if it is purged of the singularity of socially and historically contingent experiences. The man from the country experienced a second belief: namely, that the Law would be impartially administered. K. for example, shares his trust in the priest's "good intentions" as an official of the court (213). No extraneous experiences of the man must influence the gate-keeper. We learn, in particular, that "the questions are put quite impersonally" (214). The gate-keeper's own sense of the impersonal application of the Law induced him to hesitate before accepting a bribe (214). The Priest, as a source of authority, had earlier felt constrained from taking a bribe. Third, we learn that the Law is founded in objectivity. For one thing, the parable recounts how the Law is found in texts. Mindful of one's own legal training and one's Conklin 5 reading of contracts and treaties today, the priest suggested that K is being deluded by his expectations about the Law and about the role of the priest her/himself. Instead, the priest cautions that one must pay particular attention to the exact words of texts: "I told you the story in the very words of the scriptures" (215). The texts lack any mention of delusion about the law: "there's no mention of delusion in it." Indeed, the priest scolds K that "[y]ou have not enough respect for the written word and you are altering the story." Although shared beliefs, values and convictions may well be admittedly incorporated into the law, the priest seems to indicate that the most seemingly minor writing in a text must not be ignored. What seems textually contradictory may actually be rationally coherent when minor texts are incorporated into the whole, we learn. More generally, objectivity lies behind the priest's caution that one must justify one's opinions and provide empirical support for any generalization about facts: "[d]on't be too hasty, don't take over an opinion without testing it." Against the background of the priest's admonitions, the man from the country must believe that the Law is objective, located in texts, rationally justifiable and separate from the complainant and jurist-reader alike. Fourth, the man from the country expects that the legitimacy of the Law rests in some final Source. Such a Source functions as the referent of justifying the application of the Law to the man's alleged harm. The man from the country, for his part, is enclosed in "darkness." But inside the doorway of the Law, "a radiance ... streams indistinguishably from the door of the Law." Of course, sunlight (that is, the radiance) has traditionally represented Truth in European thought. The Law, with its source of radiance, is imagined to be metaphysically higher than the beliefs of the mere gate-keeper and man from the country alike. Kafka adds that such "radiance," like the sun, emits "indistinguishable" laws. How are the laws "indistinguishable"? The door to the Law is always open. Each complainant has a door. As such, the man seeks to have the law intellectually enclose the man's report of his formerly experienced harm. After all, this harm caused him to journey to the Law. In sum, the legal culture in which the man finds himself has inculcated beliefs in access to the Law, the impartiality in the administration of the law, equality before the law, the universality of rights, the pre-existence of the Law, and the association of the legitimacy of the law in some one ultimate Source radiating from inside the Law. Such principles are often associated with legal formalism. And yet, throughout his waiting period, the man's expectations were frustrated. Most importantly, in this regard, the man from the country and the gate-keeper expect that the Law exists prior to the man's experienced events. Unlike Kafka's other stories about the castle and the prison colony, Kafka's parable does not describe the Law as if it were a physical structure such as the castle. That said, before his grievances can be heard, the man must be invited through the doorway which, after all, implies a physical opening to a physical structure. Despite the fact that the Law has trumped the man's singularly experienced events in the country, the man's continual wait takes form before the Law in time and space. The instance of the harm caused to the man as well as the instance of the man's experienced world before the Law remain outside. As a consequence, when one considers the cluster of beliefs as a whole, the man's experiential world cannot possibly access the Law. The man stands before the Law as an outsider to the Law. His complaint is never heard. He is neither a legal nor an illegal 6 Law, Culture and the Humanities 5. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 199. 6. See e.g. John Gardner, "Why Law Might Emerge," in Luis Duarte D'almeida, James Edwards and Andrea Dolcetti (eds), Reading HLA Hart's Concept of Law (Oxford: Hart, 2013), pp. 81–96; Law as a Leap of Faith (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), pp. 1–18, 67–74; John Finnis, "On Hart's Ways: Law as Reason and as Fact," in The Legacy of H.L.A. Hart (Matthew Kramer, Claire Grant, Ben Colburn and Antony Hatzistavrou, eds) (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), pp. 3–27. person. The harm previously caused to him is neither legal nor illegal. Nor is his experience in gaining access to the Law legal or illegal. His context-specific experienced events are a left-over to the language of the Law because they remain unsignified and therefore unrecognized inside the boundary of the legal space. Both before and after the door is closed, the man from the country, as a human subject, just does not exist as a legal person with all the rights and duties of a legal person. This is so despite the fact that his expectations had constituted his image about the Law. He had imagined the Law as separate from himself and his experiences. And yet, it is his expectations about the law which, when frustrated causes his continual suffering. His wait meets with the silence of the Law's officials and with the Law generally. His unrecognized experienced suffering remains a 'left-over' from the Law. That said, the Law had emanated from his own cluster of beliefs. As the priest acts while reporting the parable, "He allows the man to curse loudly in his presence the fate for which he himself is responsible." The man alone is responsible for his inability or unwillingness to enter through the doorway. As the priest reminds one, The man from the country is really free, he can go where he likes, it is only the Law that is closed to him, and access to the Law is forbidden him by only one individual, the door-keeper. When he sits down ... for the rest of his life, he does it of his own free will; in the story there is no mention of any coercion. (218) The constraint facing the man from the country is his own imagined cluster of beliefs to which I referred a moment ago. Why? Because the Law, I am arguing, is the product of the man's (and the gate-keeper's – and perhaps Kafka's) imagination. Such an imagination had portrayed the Law as if it had its own history and as if autonomous of experienced events. The man's experienced events, though, had possessed their own unaccessed experienced past before the law had taken form. In a sense, the man's own expectations about the Law were exceedingly violent towards the man's own body as he waited for the invitation. The Law, as autonomous of the man, was the product of the man's imagination. The man could not access his own expectations about the Law. The clue to this arose from a paradoxical situation. The gate-keeper and the man believed that the law was separate from the man's experienced events. Such a separation represented a deep rupture between the law and the man. The boundary delimited an inside from an outside, law from extralaw, law from lawlessness, legal persons from non-persons, the Law from other disciplines such as Philosophy and Literature. And yet, this pervasive boundary – so important to the metaphysical as well as the physical structure of the Law – had an imaginary character to it. Derrida acknowledged it as the product of the imagination.5 Derrida is not alone. The Law is generated from a fable or myth, as contemporary jurists admit.6 Conklin 7 7. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 208. 8. Derrida, Edmund Husserl's Origin of Geometry: an Introduction, trans with a Preface and Afterword by John P Leavey (Lincoln, NE and London: University of Nebraska Press, 1989, 1978 [1962 in French]; Speech and Phenomena and other Essays on Husserl's Theory of Signs, trans with Intro by David B Allison; Preface by Newton Garver (Evanson, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1973 [1967, 1968 in French]); Positions (published in French 1972, in English 1981). 9. Derrida, Politics of Friendship, trans by George Collins (London and New York: Verso, 1997 [1994 in French]), p. 103. The imagined character of the Law emerges from the belief that the Law only exists inside a space "out there" separate from the man and the gate-keeper. But in order to imagine such a space, the space had to possess a boundary. In order to imagine such a boundary, the officials inside the doorway had to know what experiences the man was encountering on the other side of the boundary. The jurists had to understand the man's earlier suffering, which had caused him to come to the Law, as well as his suffering while waiting to be invited into the doorway. The jurists had to understand the harm caused by their own silence to the man's experiences. They also had to understand that the Law was the product of their own imagination. In order for the boundary to exist in one's imagination, the priest, gate-keeper and other officials inside the doorway had to know what exists on either side of the boundary. How else could the jurists know that the Law was autonomous of the contingent experiences of the man from the country if they did not know what was on the other side of the boundary? The problem is that the boundary delimited what a legal official could claim to know as law. As such, the officials just could not know the original harm to the man nor could they know the harm caused by the Law's silence to the man's suffering as he waited for recognition from the Law and its officials. That knowledge was only possible through the signifiers of the official legal language. The man, the gate-keeper and expert knowers inside the boundary had to know what they could not know by virtue of the boundary to legal knowledge. II. Derrida's Outline of the Nature of the Boundary Now, the big question concerns this: "why did the man (and the gate-keeper) believe in the boundary of the Law?" This question links with Derrida's concern in "Before the Law." Derrida responds to the issue by asking "why is the parable considered 'Literature' rather than some other discipline such as 'Law' or 'Philosophy'?" As he presses with this issue, he begins to ask the question "what renders the Law a discipline?" Both questions hinge upon the nature of the boundary of the legal discipline.7 The clue to Derrida's response to the issue concerns Derrida's sense of the nature of legal language. Language, Derrida explains in his earlier works,8 exists by virtue of configurations of signifiers. A signifier is negative in that it differs from another signifier. The gap between the differentiating signifiers "offers room for rhetorical effects which are also political strategies," Derrida explains in Politics of Friendship.9 So, for example, Kafka describes the gatekeeper in a way which the few utterances of the gate-keeper are open to interpretation: "These are difficulties the man from the country has not expected to meet" (213). Yet, the man from the country cannot understand why he remains unrecognized by the Law. 8 Law, Culture and the Humanities 10. Derrida, Speech and Phenomena; Of Grammatology, trans by Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak (Baltimore, MD and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1974, 1976 [1967 in French]). 11. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 208. 12. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 199. 13. This point is raised by Douglas E. Litowitz in "Franz Kafka's Outsider Jurisprudence," Law & Social Inquiry 27(1) (2002), 103–37, 105. 14. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 197. Emphasis added. In like vein, the differentiation of signifiers separates the knowers of the signifiers from the man from the country. Signifiers themselves highlight the claimants of contemporary legal knowledge: the lawyer's immaculate black gown or black suit (black assimilating all competing signifiers), her/his head protruding from the black gown/suit, her/ his gestures, court-room rituals, the physically higher chair of the judge, and the codewords in the motions, arguments, and evidence. Language is doubly exclusionary: first, the preoccupation with signifiers excludes what are signified – that is, the rules, principles and other intelligible standards signified by the signifiers; and second, the focus upon signifiers excludes pre-intellectual acts of meaning embodying the signifiers. Not surprisingly in the light of his Speech and Phenomena and Of Grammatology, Derrida's interpretation of the parable takes both exclusions as elements of language.10 And the key to his understanding of this exclusionary element of language, I shall argue in a moment, is his adoption of territoriality as the basis of legal knowledge. 1 The Boundary of the Law about the Law Derrida's interpretation of Kafka's parable, to begin with, claims that a legal structure – whether of civil institutions of the state or of the differentiations of signifiers – must have a boundary in order for the structure to exist. In this regard, the discipline of "Law" – and here he likens "Literature" and Philosophy to "the Law" – possesses a boundary.11 A boundary originates the language of the Law.12 I have argued above, however, that the man from the country imagines a separation of the Law from his experienced event of harm in the country as well as the event of his waiting to be recognized. The boundary guides and protects the expert knowers inside the boundary of the Law. The boundary excludes those who lack a knowledge of the Law. In this regard, the man is not a minority as we assume today about contemporary discrimination.13 Gender, race, ethnicity, and class do not qualify one to be an outsider for Kafka. Rather, the outsider lacks knowledge of the signifiers familiar to the officials inside the boundary of the Law. As Derrida says Perhaps man is the man from the country as long as he cannot read; or, if knowing how to read, he is still bound up in unreadability within that very thing which appears to yield itself to be read.14 The person who cannot read law is one who can read in her/his own natural language but one who does not understand the differentiating signifiers inside the boundary of the official legal language. Conklin 9 15. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 201. 16. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 207. 17. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 207. His emphasis. 18. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 199. 19. See esp. Derrida, Friendship, p. 154. 20. Derrida, Friendship, pp. 252, 255. 21. Derrida, Friendship, p. 153. 22. Derrida, Friendship, p. 114. 23. Derrida, Friendship, p. 91. In a sense, Derrida says, the boundary of the discipline of the Law is "invisible."15 The boundary cannot be seen nor perceived. It is impossible to touch, feel, or experience the language about the boundary – the language, again, being differentiating signifiers. Nor is there an author or creator of the boundary: It is not a woman or a feminine figure ... Not yet is the law a man; it is neutral, beyond sexual and grammatical gender, and remains thus indifferent, impassive, little concerned to answer yes or no. ... It is neuter, neither feminine nor masculine, indifferent because we do not know whether it is a (respectable) person or a thing, who or what.16 One does not have "a cognitive rapport with it." The boundary is not the product of reflection, deliberation or of decisionism. "[I]t is neither a subject nor an object before which one could take a position."17 The boundary, he continues, is "produced" as a "space of this non-knowledge." The space is empty – it is "invisible," he says again. No one accepts the boundary as an "in itself." No one experiences it as taking place: "an event without event, pure event where nothing happens."18 Derrida makes this same point in his Politics of Friendship when he emphasizes how a friend can only be imagined.19 And, in this respect, one can only respect a friend by envisioning an empty space between oneself and the other.20 Once one tries to define the friend in terms of one's own language, definition raises the possibility of war between the two friends.21 Conversely, one's fusion with the friend imposes one's will onto the "friend" much as the Law can only recognize the stranger and, more generally, by recognizing the stranger as one of its own – that is, as defined by the familiar signifiers inside the boundary of the official language. In this respect, Derrida recounts how Plato describes the boundary or "limit" of knowledge as inaccessible.22 Such a boundary separates the judges, lawyers and law instructors from the outside, one configuration of signifiers from another. The signifiers inside the boundary represent the domestic and international legal orders. The inside invariably has to have an authorizing foundation or birth. And so, the common law defines the foundation of the modern state-centric legal structure as originating at a Critical Date. The Critical Date, a signifier differentiating the calendar time of the legal language from the pre-legal time of preEuropean contact with indigenous and nomadic peoples, also separates the legal space from the pre-legal or non-legal space. Such a pre-legal or non-legal space is external to the boundary of the universals inside the bounded legal structure. This externality about the birth of the legal structure characterizes every form of ethnocentrism, racism, and nationalism, as Derrida points out.23 10 Law, Culture and the Humanities 24. Derrida, Rogues: Two Essays on Reason, trans by Pascale-Anne Brault and Michael Naas (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2005), p. 88. 25. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 197. 26. See e.g. Derrida, Monolingualism of the Other: Or, the Prosthesis of Origin, trans by Patrick Mensah (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1998), pp. 40, 45. 27. In this regard, Derrida seems to contradict his earlier work where he claimed that (unwritten) expression, as opposed to writing, had a structure of differentiating signifiers – that is, that there was no "before" writing. See Of Grammatology, pp. 165–268; Speech and Phenomena; "Sending: On Representation," Social Research 49 (1982): 294–326. 28. Monolingualism, p. 67; "Before the Law," p. 208. 29. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 208. The consequence, then, is that the legal language transpires inside the boundary of the language of the Law. The boundary functions as a rupture between the Law and the externality of the boundary. Derrida describes such a boundary in Rogues where he "aligned [...] justice with disjointure, with being out of joint, with the interruption of relation, with unbinding, with the infinite secret of the other."24 In particular, inside the boundary of the Law's structure, "the People" or legal officials communicate through chains of differentiating familiar signifiers. To this end, "the Law" inside the Law's structure must be "deciphered" or deconstructed as if a language.25 Now, this legal language involves significations (that is, representations) as opposed to pre-intellectual acts of meaning in "expression" as elaborated by Edmund Husserl. The language of the Law only exists inside the boundary. Significations do not and cannot signify the boundary. The boundary is "outside" the language inside the Law. And yet, the boundary is "inside" the Law in that it is recognized by "constitutional" configurations of familiar signifiers to the insiders. In a sense, the chains of signifiers of the official language inside the boundary are "authored" in that any particular signification is the product of reflection, deliberation and a conscious decision that this is the relevant rule and this rule applies to this set of "facts." If the boundary were signified, one of two possibilities would emerge: either the signification would lack a "trace" of familiar signifiers inside the boundary of familiar signifiers or, if signifiers represented a conceptual object, there would remain an "unwritten" boundary to the Law.26 Without being signified in writing, the boundary is a "brutal severance," as Derrida puts it.27 It is "brutal" because it is arbitrary. It is arbitrary because the boundary severs the state's language from the experienced past of the man from the country. In sum, no signifiers represent the boundary because only the signifiers inside the boundary can be signified. The boundary, then, is not the product of signification by reflection, deliberation and decisionism. Lacking configurations of signifiers to represent the boundary, the boundary is "silent" or "unheard of," Derrida says.28 This is so because we do not know what it is, who it is, where it is. Is it a thing, a person, a discourse, a voice, a document, or simply a nothing that incessantly defers access to itself, this forbidding itself in order thereby to become something or someone.29 Conklin 11 30. See esp. Derrida, Origin of Geometry; Speech and Phenomena; Positions, trans & Annotated by Alan Bass (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1981); Grammatology, pp. 10–73. 31. Derrida, "Force of Law: the Mystical Foundation of Authority," in Acts of Religion, ed with Intro by Gil Anidjar (New York and London: Routledge, 2002), pp. 230–98, 244. 32. Derrida, "Force of Law," p. 244. 33. Ibid. 34. Derrida, "Force of Law," p. 197. 35. Derrida, Specters of Marx, trans Peggy Kamuf; Intro Bernd Magnus & Stephen Cullenberg (New York and London: Routledge, 1994 [1993 in French]), pp. 7–8, 45, 54. We cannot "know" the boundary as a concept, for example, because the signifiers represent other signifiers, not concepts, according to Derrida.30 The boundary exists "before" any statute, treaty, precedent or other text ascribed to "the Law" in calendar time – even before the first written Constitution, before the colonial legal language, before the legal discipline that is. Inside the boundary of the structure, the analysis of a rule-concept aims to reach the boundary of the discipline and yet the boundary cannot be accessed. As Derrida explains in the "Force of Law," a concrete experience is a traverse of voyage to a destination.31 The boundary lacks such a destination as well as a signification. As such, it is neither illegal nor legal. In sum, the boundary of the Law as a discipline is a "dead-end" or "non-path." The boundary is a non-path because, although the boundary is so important for the very existence of the structure of the official signifying relations, expert knowers of the significations cannot access the boundary through the familiar chains of significations inside the legal language. The man (and presumably any official or expert knower of signifying relations), has to experience the boundary in order for there to be a legal language. The man from the country, after all, experienced the boundary, so apparent from his imagination of the boundary, as the crucial factor in his decision to wait for an invitation. In contrast, the man's experience of the boundary was "the experience of what we [that is, judges, lawyers, legal instructors and other expert knowers] are unable to experience," as Derrida has put it.32 As such, the expert knowers of Law's signifiers cannot access the extra-legal world outside the boundary of legal knowledge. Such an exteriority is "an experience of the impossible."33 The boundary, which demarcates such an externality from legal signifiers, is "impossible" in that we expert knowers can only know the relations amongst signifiers inside the boundary of the language.34 In this vein, in Specters of Marx, Derrida describes the exteriority of the boundary as the bodiless, soulless, unnameable and an invisible ghost beyond life and death.35 Such an unsignifiable externality – unsignifiable, that is, from inside the boundary of signifying knowledge – is ghost-like. 2 The Belief in the Boundary Now, against the above background of my retrieval of Derrida's argument so far, legal officials and expert knowers of the language, working and living inside the structural boundary of the official language, can only imagine the social life and the intentionality of the outsiders to the boundary. Since the boundary of the legal knowledge is neither 12 Law, Culture and the Humanities 36. Ibid, p. 64. 37. The clerking and internships of law students certainly help to assimilate the law student into the collective consciousness of the inside of the Law. The social function of a professional law school is to inculcate such assumptions and implied concepts about the boundary of the Law and its inside. All other disciplines, then, must be outside the boundary of the Law's wall. 38. Derrida, Specters, p. 101. 39. See esp. Derrida, Specters, p. 21. legal nor illegal, the boundary of our legal knowledge is also imagined. The image is not a concept. But because our knowledge inside the boundary cannot be considered legal as opposed to extra-legal without such an image, the image is accepted as a "given." I have argued above, however, that the imagined boundary of this seemingly natural product is shared by both the man from the country and the gate-keeper. If the man from the country had become self-conscious that the Law's boundary had been the product of his imagination, he would not have felt compelled to enter the Law. He might have actively or even violently responded to the gate-keeper's "not yet!" just as K might have actively responded to the priest's just as K might have actively responded silence when K had exclaimed "[t]hese are only my personal experiences" (211). The man and the gate-keeper, however, accepted the boundary of legal knowledge without question. The man imagined that the boundary is not of his own construction. As such, the man had to be invited into the Law. This explains the priest's preface to the parable: "Don't be deluded," the priest insisted (213). The imaginary character of the Law also explains why the priest later lectured that "the scriptures are unalterable" and, as such, "the comments merely express the commentators' despair" (217). The man's imagined boundary of legal knowledge transpires before the Law exists in calendar time and measureable space. In this regard, Derrida too insists that the legal space only exists after the boundary is imagined.36 The boundary is imagined before any text, such as the parable, is described as "Literature." The same holds for any statute, judicial decision or founding "Constitution" to be considered binding as "the Law." Put in more general terms, the pre-legal assumption about the boundary of the Law is the dominant element of our own epoch.37 We have to believe in the boundary for there to be "the Law." We must believe that the boundary of our discipline has already happened even though the boundary has not actually happened except in our imagination. We believe that we must read a statute, treaty, judicial decision or "the Constitution" and we must believe that the Founding Fathers are actually gazing upon us as lawyers, as if the Founding Fathers were actual life and death intentional beings.38 But Derrida presses the imagined world of jurists further by insisting that the boundary of the legal discipline itself is mere fantasy.39 The Law thereby lacks an essence. Without one's belief in the boundary, the Law also lacks the legitimacy and the source to which "everyone strives to access." The legal institutions, as a consequence, can hardly be said to possess a totality of legislative and judicial jurisdiction. We believe in the boundary as if the boundary cannot be changed. Such and such an issue, argument, evidence or text is said to be extra-law. We feel guided and constrained by the intent or spirit of the Founding Fathers even though we have imagined such Fathers as the authors of our boundary of legal knowledge. Our Conklin 13 40. See esp. Derrida, Specters, p. 39. 41. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 192. imagined boundary is buried latent in our official chains of signifiers. We read texts as if they state the Law and we perceive social events as if "the facts" are more real than the singular events experienced temporally and spatially by an outsider in the non-Law. The Law, as a discipline, is imagined as existing analytically before the singular events. We imagine that the boundary protects and constrains any effort to delve beyond the singularly experienced events and signifiers. And yet, despite the fact that the boundary is imagined, the boundary forecloses the man from the country from denying that his language has existed before the Law exists in time and space. Today, we turn our thinking about the man's imagination into law committees, better known as courts, tribunals, government departments, and the administrative hierarchy of the "university." We believe so deeply in the boundary that we cannot question it as the product of our imagination. The boundary of the structure itself is a matter of belief, Derrida emphasizes in Specters of Marx.40 We just have to believe in the boundary of the structure for there to be the Law. The boundary lacks a social reality except to the extent that we believe in it. Without such a belief, the boundary lacks Founding Fathers. Without the belief, we cannot consider the Good or the Right as institutionalized in the Law. The man from the country desires to access the Law and yet, the image he desires to access is bounded by something of a fantastic character. As Derrida emphasizes, the access to the Law, as social-cultural content, is the forever deferred. Derrida's Kafka has a message for contemporary lawyers and legal scholars. Too often, we exclude an issue, text, evidence or argument as extra-law. Officials and expertknowers frequently signify the extra-legal as "political," "philosophy," or "literature" rather than law. But the message of Derrida's Kafka is that such externality to the Law is the product of our own imagination about the externality as well as the boundary of a discipline. The externality is silent and unwritten. This is our discipline's well-kept secret of which Derrida continually writes. We continually defer access to the Law as if the boundary of our discipline were obvious, as if the externality to the boundary were "impractical" or "unreal." We lawyers are believers about the law in a deeply religious sense. Unless we believe in the boundary, we will not have a legal discipline or legal discourse. And unless we have a discipline, our acts of recognition, exclusion and enforcement will lack legitimacy. We go to war because of our belief. We are willing to be killed in the name and out of loyalty to the belief. As Derrida says in his "Before the Law," the boundary of the Law is a "non-origin" in a non-reality that is inaccessible from the singularly experienced events.41 We just must believe in the "existence" of the boundary for there to be a discipline. But once we so label the issue, argument, text or evidence in this conclusory way, the non-origin is unknowable. 3 The Inaccessibility to the Boundary The problem for the man is that once he imagines the boundary and therefore the principles of access to justice, impartiality, equality before the Law, and the universality of a 14 Law, Culture and the Humanities 42. Kafka, "The Problem of Our Laws," in The Complete Stories, ed by Nahum N Glatzer; Foreword by John Updike; trans by Willa & Edwin Muir (New York: Schocken Books, 1971), pp. 437–8. 43. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 199. 44. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 197. 45. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 200. 46. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 205. discrete law and the Law's legitimacy, an invitation across, through or into the boundary is impossible. Why so? Because the man is left with an official language from which he lacks recognition as a legal person. As Kafka says in "The Problem of Our Laws," Our Laws are not generally known; they are kept secret by the small group of nobles who rule us. We are convinced that these ancient laws are scrupulously administered; nevertheless it is an extremely painful thing to be ruled by laws that one does not know.42 The legal profession – the lawyers, judges, law professors, law students – are now the nobles who alone "know" the Law. Despite the unknowability about the externality to the boundary, legal knowledge is the preserve of such nobles. Derrida's Kafka begs questions whether such a legal knowledge is "real." As Derrida says, "the site" or space of the Law – a site that exists by virtue of its boundary – is, again, "impossible."43 Because the authorizing origin of the Law rests in the man's imagination and is therefore "impossible," the boundary of the discipline itself is "impossible." Derrida goes so far as to say that the boundary is unnameable.44 Why is it unnameable? Because the officially recognized signifiers inside the official language count as legal, the boundary remains external to and yet "inside" the legal language. Again, the boundary is neither legal nor illegal. As such, the boundary is unsignifiable in the official language. This being so, the Law, as universal inside the unsignifiable boundary, strives to possess and assimilate all possible competing languages outside as well as inside the imagined boundary. The discipline of law needs a myth or fable about a foundation external and prior to law in order to delimit its scope. As such, any discrete law, let alone the Law as a whole, is inaccessible. With such inaccessibility, according to Derrida, "the story" of any discrete prohibition by the Law is a "prohibited story."45 So, what is inaccessible is one's entrance through the door of the Law. But the Law's boundary, as Derrida puts it, prohibits by interfering with and deferring the "ference" ["férance"], the reference, the rapport, the relation. What must not and cannot be approached is the origin of différance [that is, of the differentiating signifiers as the legal language]: it must not be presented or represented and above all not penetrated.46 The origin is the boundary of the language. The "must not" represents a performative statement: that is, "the law of the law." Officials of the Law proceed as if this secret is just that. The secret cannot be openly challenged without representing treason, seditious intent, libel or conspiracy, or a contempt of court. Indeed, if professional law schools raised the possibility of the secret for future lawyers, the very possibility of Conklin 15 47. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 191. 48. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 200. 49. See e.g. Derrida, "The Laws of Reflection: Nelson Mandela, In Admiration," in For Nelson Mandela (New York: Saver Books 1987 [1986]), pp. 13–42, p. 32; 1990: Derrida, "Before the Law," pp. 190, 191, 194, 196, 200, 209, 210; "Force of Law," pp. 233, 245, 254, 275; Specters, pp. 3–18; Rogues, pp. 85–8. See also Jacques Derrida, Of Hospitality: Anne Dufourmantelle invites Jacques Derrida to Respond, trans by Rachel Bowlby (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2000), pp. 69–73, 147–51. 50. Derrida explains this point in several of his texts. For his analysis of justice and "reconciliation" see his "Archive Fever in South Africa," in Reconfiguring the Archive (Carolyn Hamilton, Verne Harris, Jane Taylor, Michele Pickover, Graeme Reid & Razia Saleh eds) (Dordrecht: Kluwer, 2002), pp. 38–60, 74, 76, 78, 80. 51. He is concerned with "the Law" or Recht or le droit as opposed to a law, Gesetzen or les lois. See e.g. Derrida, Rogues, p. 161n2. 52. Ronald Dworkin, Law's Empire (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1986). a "pro-fession" of lawyers would dissolve. I am suggesting that officials and expert knowers, instead of being neutral justifiers of legal objectivity, actually make decisions and rules `on behalf of' or `for' [pro] a `creed' or `declaration' [fession] which would dissolve. In this regard, the social function of the professional law school is and must remain ideological as long as the expert knowers believe in the Law – at least as long as they assume the Law to be a territorial-like space in legal consciousness. III. "The Law" as a Bounded Territorial-like Space Now, there is something about Derrida's Kafka which presses that we question Derrida's own imagination. In this regard, one has to ask whether Derrida possesses a particular sense of legal space in mind when he continually describes the boundary of the Law as a "margin," "frontier," or "limit." Derrida even frames competing interpretations of the parable with reference to "a space" where one interprets texts and evidence.47 Conversely, Derrida interprets the role of the gate-keeper and the role of the man from the country in terms of different discontinuous spaces.48 In this context, Derrida is heavily influenced by Kant's theory of Recht.49 In Kant's case, the externality to Recht is considered non-law or "primitive," "savage," "barbaric." In Derrida's case, the externality is considered justice.50 The commonality of Derrida's and Kant's theories of law is the assumption that "the Law" or Recht is imagined as a territorial-like space defined by a boundary.51 The discipline of the Law has an imperial character and scope inside the boundary just as Ronald Dworkin claimed.52 I now wish to argue that Derrida indeed does possess a particular sense of legal space. In this regard, I shall argue in the next Section that Derrida is not alone in this regard. The boundary of the legal space, as Derrida himself imagines, demarcates the Law from a multiplicity of singularly experienced events external to the boundary. Territorial space (in contradistinction with the territorial-like space of consciousness) figures in the official recognition of a state. Various provisions of the UN Charter recognize and hold out the freedom of a state to militarily protect its physical border. A refugee, in order to be recognized as a legal person, must cross the territorial border of her/his habitual 16 Law, Culture and the Humanities 53. I examine the legal consequences of being outside the state-centric international "community" in Statelessness: the enigma of an international community (Oxford: Hart, 2014, 2015), pp. 96–135. 54. Jean-François Lyotard, "'Before the Law, After the Law': an Interview with Jean-François Lyotard conducted by Elizabeth Weber," Qui Parle 11(2) (1999), 37–58, 38. residence. A subject is said to lack a nationality if the insiders to the boundary of legal language have not conferred such nationality onto the subject as a legal person. Nomadic groups lack a territorial fixity on a territorial space and so they remain unprotected by a state or the international community.53 The territorial space, so crucial to the state-centric sense of an international community, is imprinted as a product of nature and therefore as unquestionable. My point is that this sense of territorial space has been carried over into the legal language. Only, in this context, the space is signified by officials and expert knowers. Critical legal concepts have assumed such a territorial-like space as the object of legal protection: property, ownership, a right, the state, the state's sovereignty, jurisdiction, a legal person, the federal division of authority between the state and a province, the independence of the courts, the separation of powers, freedom and no doubt others. Inside the boundary of the space, one is free to act whether one is a legal person or a state authority or the state itself. This association of the Law with territorial-like space is the consequence of the boundary of the discipline of Law. For without such a boundary, one cannot have a space. To re-visit the parable, "everyone strives to attain the Law" (214), there must be "access to the law by everyone at all times" (215), and "the Law, he thinks, should be accessible to every man and at all times" (213). The man from the country desires access to the territorial-like space. The role of the gate-keeper is to protect that territorial-like space. The state claims radical title to all land inside the space. The state is free to act by legislation, adjudication or enforcement inside the space. The foreigner is imagined if unrecognized inside the bounded territorial-like space. Derrida's works are permeated with this concern for the outside to the implied territorial-like legal space. The space inside the boundary possesses a secret. The secret is that the Law, as a territorial-like space, is undetermined by social-cultural content. To be sure, jury verdicts transpire inside the space. But before social-cultural content embodies the space, the space is already constituted, organized, and polarized between legal and illegal issues, arguments, evidence and texts. The space is subsequently filled with motions, complex rules of procedure, ruthless cross-examinations and an impeccable procedural fairness which is believed to produce a just outcome. But such a fairness is reserved for those inside the space. The space, we must not forget, is imagined. From the standpoint of the man from the country, the content of the space is unknown and unknowable until he is invited to enter through the doorway. His personal experiences and memories of suffering are met with silence from the priest and gate-keeper. He does not understand the language of motions and other idioms of procedural justice. As Jean-François Lyotard points out, the Law attempts to make people forget the social life before the Law ever emerged.54 This is so because the man from the country imagines the Law as a bounded and physically protected territorial-like space. Without knowledge of the inside of the Conklin 17 55. Derrida, Monolingualism, p. 65. 56. Jacques Derrida, Eyes of the University: Right to Philosophy 2, trans by Jan Plug (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2004 [1990]). 57. Derrida, Eyes, p. 13. 58. Derrida, Eyes, p. 19. 59. Derrida, Eyes, p. 103. boundary, the inside is empty at least to the person who lacks knowledge about the inside. From the standpoint of the outsider, the law cannot be known unless the outsider is invited into the space as an inner sanctum. Interestingly, even the boundary itself lies outside such an inner sanctum. This is so even though, without it, the space cannot exist. Philosophy, Literature, Anthropology, and Politics exist outside the boundary of the territorial-like space in legal consciousness. Derrida even describes the externality as a "zone outside the law."55 In this regard, the foreigner might physically and territorially inhabit inside the boundary of the legal space. But because we imagine the boundary and its protected space, the foreigner may well inhabit a territorial space and yet remain unrecognized by the officials and expert knowers about the signifying relations inside the territorial-like space. The legal space is virtual, not natural. Derrida extends this assumption and expectation of a territorial-like space to the nature of law as an academic discipline. He is especially preoccupied with the boundary of the discipline in his Eyes of the University: Right to Philosophy 2.56 In this context, Derrida is concerned less with the outsider to the boundary than with the locus of the boundary itself. The boundary defines the discipline. Derrida explains that [w]hat I am suggesting here does not amount to subordinating language or the force of language, or indeed the war of languages as such, in relation to a preor nonlinguistic force, to a struggle or more generally to a relationship that is not one of language ... . No, I am only emphasizing that this relationship of language must already, as such, be the power relationship of spacing, a body of writing to clear a path, in the most general and fullest sense of these words. It is on this condition that we have some chance of understanding what happens, for instance when a language becomes dominant, when an idiom takes power, and possibly State power.57 Working within the dominant language – that is, the legal language – the language of the officials "erases but also exposes that which it erases and which resists it."58 The dominating language, Derrida continues, becomes "the path of erasure ... a path that passes over or beyond the path of language, passing its path." Kant's idea of a pure and rational discipline, juxtaposed with the practice of phenomena, is therefore misdirected. A hierarchy of faculties invariably accompanies the purity of an institutional structure of disciplines.59 Because the "border" of a discipline is constantly being challenged from within the discipline, academic departments are constantly de-stabilized. The boundary itself of the discipline invariably infuses the expert knowers of the legal language with power to the extent that it translates displaced languages. Border conflicts will invariably ensue between disciplines and between university departments and non-university or governmental research centers. Because the boundary of a discipline is of a language rather than a structure of signified concepts, the issue of the foundation of the legal 18 Law, Culture and the Humanities 60. Derrida, Eyes, p. 109. 61. Derrida, Eyes, p. 109. 62. Derrida, "The University without Conditions," Without Alibi, ed & trans with intro by Peggy Kamuf (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2002), pp. 202–37. 63. Derrida, "Without Conditions," p. 204. 64. Derrida, "Without Conditions," p. 208. 65. Derrida, "Without Conditions," p. 220. discipline is neither a matter of its foundation nor of its own juridical event on a Critical Date.60 Even the legitimacy of the university lacks a foundation which the university cannot construct. To be sure, the law faculty may celebrate the birthdate of its foundation but the foundation cannot be determined by the faculty. The foundation is neither illegal nor legal: "[t]hough such a foundation is not merely illegal, it also does not arise from the internal legality it institutes."61 The foundation of the legal discipline is non-legal – that is, external to the boundary which officials and expert knowers claim to know as the boundary of our discipline. Derrida ends this excursus into the nature of the boundary of a discipline with this question: if the legitimacy of law, as a discipline, depends upon an externality to the discipline, what is that externality? Derrida responds with what Hegel considered an ethos or what Foucault considered an "historical a priori": namely "an epoch of the law." What could be more philosophical than an examination of the nature of the boundary of an academic discipline? In his "The University Without Conditions" Derrida extends his argument in one of the more insightful essays about the nature of a university and, by inference, of the discipline of law.62 Here, he entertains the possibility of a university situated external to the boundary of the juridical structure of the state. Such a university would highlight the right of deconstruction "as an unconditional right to ask critical questions not only about the history of the concept of man, but about the history even of the notion of critique about the form and the authority of the question, about the interrogative form of thought."63 This new Humanities discipline, he urges, should include "law," "legal studies" and "theory." The knowledge structure of such an externally situated new discipline would not be performative. Instead it would be "theoretical and constative" "as if" it were not legitimized by the instrumental rationality inside the space of the external juridical state structure. Interestingly, Derrida takes for granted in this essay that the Law occupies an "academic space" delimited by the boundary, the university lacking the condition of the boundary. The university, he writes, would lack a boundary because it would be "founded on a justice that surpasses it and thus authorize ourselves to deconstruct all the determined figures that this sovereign unconditionality may have assumed throughout history."64 As such, the university would be "founded" without a foundation legitimized by the state. This is what he signifies by the "unconditionality" of the university. This "idea of a space," he insists, "has to be symbolically protected by a kind of absolute immunity, as if its interior were inviolable."65 The university will "seek its place" wherever the "unconditionality" external to the boundary of the legal space finds itself. My point here (and in this article generally) is that Derrida leaves us with a circularity which returns us to the bounded territorial-like legal space of our epoch's historical Conklin 19 66. Derrida, "Without Conditions," pp. 210–13. 67. See esp. Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Structure of Behaviour (trans: Alden L Fisher; London: Methuen1963 [1942]), pp. 98-147; Edward S. Casey, Getting Back into Place: Toward a renewed understanding of the place in the World (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2009 rev'd ed [1993]); Conklin, "A Phenomenological Theory of the Human Rights of the Alien," Ethical Perspectives 13 (2006), 245–301. 68. For an excellent description of such an experienced everyday world see Ian Buchanan, "Space in the Age of Non-place" (Buchanan & Gregg Lambert eds) Deleuze and Space (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005), pp. 16–35. 69. For the importance of the genre of K's story as a parable, see Bensmaïa, "Foreword," in Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, Kafka: Towards a Minor Literature, trans by Dana Polan; Foreword by Réda Bensmaïa (Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1986 [1975]), p. xiv. 70. See esp. Space, Knowledge and Power: Foucault and Geography (Jeremy W. Crampton & Stuart Elden, eds) (Farnham and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2007). 71. Benjamin, "Some Reflections on Kafka," in Illuminations, ed with intro by Hannah Arendt, trans by Harry Zohn (New York: Schocken Books, 1968), pp. 141–5. a priori. The "internal limitrophe" and "external limitrophe" of a discipline internal to the boundary of such a legal space must be self-examined.66 The boundary of a territorial-like space represents the fundamental need to gaze external to the boundary for the legitimacy of the discipline of law. And yet, Derrida leaves us with a new discipline as bounding a territorial-like space, this being a key feature of the contemporary epoch of the Law. IV. The Imagined Bounded Space of Contemporary Legal Thought Derrida is not alone in his imagination of the Law as a bounded territorial-like space. This, I shall note in detail in a moment. Before I do so, I wish to highlight how Derrida's identity of the Law with a territorial-like space is shared by other interpreters of Kafka's parable. 1 The Dissolution of a Spatial Boundary Before I turn to other interpreters of the parable, it is important to appreciate how the phenomenological tradition has understood space in terms of experiential knowledge rather than of a bounded territorial-like thing.67 An experiential sense of space is assimilated into how one experiences an event.68 Such an experienced space highlights a meaning-constituting subject. It may be that Kafka succeeds in exposing the problematic of a territorial-like space because he writes in the form of a parable in that a parable lacks the linearity characteristic of a boundary.69 Interpreters of the parable, like Derrida, have aspired to escape from the intellectual strictures of the Law as a territorial-like space. Michel Foucault desired to do so when he brought into question the royalty model of sovereignty as a territorial space.70 Walter Benjamin, for his part, read Kafka as if Kafka were searching for a space lacking a subject.71 In this regard, Kafka invariably finds himself a failure in any effort to come in 20 Law, Culture and the Humanities 72. Peter Fitzpatrick explains this point in "Political Agonism and the (Im)possibility of Law: Kafka's Solution," Teoria e critica della regolazione sociale 2, 2015 (special issue: "L'epoca dei populismi. Diritti e Conflitti / The Age of Populism. Rights and Conflicts," ed. by F. Ciaramelli, F.G. Menga), 97–115, 101. 73. For discussion of the exclusion from in-groups of Kafka in his own life see Banakar, "In Search of Heimat: A Note on Franz Kafka's Concept of Law," Law and Literature 22 (2010), 463–90; Litowitz, "Outsider Jurisprudence." 74. See, e.g. Peter Fitzpatrick, Law as Resistance (Aldershot and Burlington, VA: Ashgate, 2008); "Passions out of Place: Law, Incommensurability, and Resistance," in Laws of the Postcolonial (Eve Dorian-Smith and Peter Fitzpatrick, eds) (Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, 1999), pp. 39–59. 75. Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, Kafka: Towards a Minor Literature, trans by Dana Polan; Foreword by Réda Bensmaïa (Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1986 [1975]). 76. Kafka: Towards a Minor Literature, p. xiv. 77. Banakar, "In Search of Heimat," 485. 78. Deleuze and Guattari, Minor Literature, p. 19. 79. I infer this from Deleuze and Guattari, Minor Literature, pp. 21–2. 80. See e.g. The Expanding Spaces of Law: a Timely Legal Geography (Irus Braverman, Nicholas Bromley, David Delaney & Alexander Kedar, eds) (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2014). from the cold where there is no recognized legal subject. Kafka is preoccupied with failure, according to Benjamin.72 Failure in relation to "what," one might ask. Failure, I suggest, in being recognized by the signifiers of the in-groups about him.73 Peter Fitzpatrick has particularly emphasized the complexity and resistance of the incommensurable social relations of the outsider to the Law.74 Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari claim that we need to de-territorialize space.75 In this regard, Réda Bensmaïa does do so by suggesting that Kafka raises the possibility of a radical heterogeneity inside "a linguistic space."76 And Reza Banakar suggests that Kafka introduces one to the possibility of law as a form of experience.77 As long as a space is presumed to be territorial-like, however, there will always be the prospect of an excluded exteriority and the need to reterritorialize or transform such a space. And such a re-territorialization will invariably exclude an effectively stateless person from protection inside the legal space.78 The possibility of statelessness raises the prospect of a blurring of languages without an experienced "place" in the legal space and without recognition by a proper name such as "Canada" or the "United States."79 2 The Adoption of Territorial Space Despite the above and other efforts to offer an alternative to the Law as space, a boundary surrounding territorial-like space has dominated legal analysis and endeavors of crossdisciplinary research. To begin with, the boundary between law and the stranger is sometimes understood entirely in terms of a physical border. Various anthologies and symposia have read sovereignty in terms of a spatial structure.80 Henri Lefebvre has privileged Conklin 21 81. Henri Lefebvre, State, Space World: selected essays, ed by Neil Brenner & Stuart Elden; trans by Gerald Moore, Neil Brenner & Stuart Elden (Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2009). 82. Henk Van Houtum, "Waiting Before the Law: Kafka on the Border," Social & Legal Studies 19(3) (2010), 285–97, 189. 83. Giorgio Agamben, Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life, trans by Daniel HellerRoazen (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1998 [1995]), pp. 49, 54. 84. Maurice Blanchot, "The Space of Literature," in Continental Philosophy: an Anthology (William McNeill & Karen S Feldman, eds) (Oxford: Blackwell, 1998), pp. 348–53; "The Narrative Voice" in Maurice Blanchot, The Station Hill Blanchot Reader: Fiction and Literary Essays, trans by Lydia Davis, Paul Auster & Robert Lamberton; Foreword by Christopher Fynsk; Afterword by George Quasha & Chaores Stein; ed by George Quasha (Barrytown, NY: Station Hill 1999), pp. 459–69, 464–5; The Infinite Conversation, trans & foreword by Susan Hanson (Minneapolis, MN and London: University of Minnesota Press, 1993), pp. 49–58; The Work of Fire trans by Charlotte Mandell (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1995), p. 26. 85. Margaret Davies, "Derrida and law: legitimate fictions," in M. Davies (ed.), Derrida and the Humanities ed. by T. Cohen (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), pp. 213–37. 86. John Caputo, "A Commentary: Deconstruction in a Nutshell," in Deconstruction in a Nutshell: a Conversation with Jacques Derrida, ed with Commentary by John D. Caputo (New York: Fordham University Press, 1997), p. 132. how legal discourse has been imagined as the production of territorial space.81 In his "Waiting Before the Law: Kafka on the Border," for example, Henk Van Houtum interprets Kafka's parable entirely in terms of the territorial border separating the Law from the man.82 As long as there are territorial borders, there will be barbarians, he claims. Indeed, once we have a territorial border, the Law inside the border is empty. Giorgio Agamben similarly interprets Kafka's "Before the Law" in Homo Sacer as if the open doorway to the law, as described by Kafka, represents the key challenge to the man from the country.83 This very idea of an open doorway, however, implies that the doorway opens into an open space which Agamben takes for granted as "the Law." Maurice Blanchot similarly describes Literature as a "space" where there is a "distance" between the author and the reader as if "fixed poles" separate them.84 Such a physical distance elevates texts beyond access and beyond time, according to Blanchot. My point, though, is that the boundary of legal space is not a matter of a physical distance or territorial property. Rather, the boundary is imagined as if territorial. That is, we actually assimilate the notion of territorial space into how we imagine the Law, justice, and the outsider just as Derrida has extended this imagined space to the "new Humanities" and to the university itself. Margaret Davies similarly clarifies Derrida's legal thought as pinpointing the importance of a spatial dimension to the Law and to Justice.85 The legal genre takes for granted that law radically differs from non-law by virtue of the "distance" between the two. Derrida is stuck into imagining the Law as defined by territorial metaphors: "the edge," "the limit," "the frontier," "the clear line," "the space" and "distance." At its "limit," the Law is enclosed by a "rupture" or "stopping point," Davies emphasizes. In this vein, John Caputo too holds out justice as a "gap or distance" from "the positive structures that make up the judicial systems of one sort or another."86 Deconstruction, 22 Law, Culture and the Humanities 87. Maley, "Beyond the Law: The Justice of Deconstruction," Law and Critique 10 (1999), 49–69. 88. Dillon, "Another Justice," Political Theory 27(2) (1999), 155–75, 166. 89. Nelken, "Getting at Law's Boundaries," Social & Legal Studies 15(4) (2006), pp. 598–604. 90. See e.g. Delgamuukw v. British Columbia [1997] 3 SCR 1010; 153 DLR (4th) 193, para. 181 quoting from Dick v. The Queen [1985] 2 SCR 309, 23 DLR (4th) 33, per Beetz at p. 320; R v. van der Peet [1996] 2 SCR 507, paras 20, 71; R v. Sappier [2006] 2 SCR 686; 274 DLR (4th) 75, para. 22 per Bastarache. 91. See e.g. R v. Sparrow [1990] 1 SCR 1075 (SCC); R v van der Peet [1996] 2 SCR 507 (SCC); R v. Gladstone [1996] 2 SCR 723 (SCC); Lax Kw'alaams Indian Band v. Canada (AG) [2011] 3 SCR 535. 92. Guerin v. The Queen, [1984] 2 SCR 335 (SCC); Delgamuukw v. BC [1997] 3 SCR 1010 (SCC); 93. Canada, Truth and Reconciliation Commission, "Honouring the Truth, Reconciling for the Future: Summary of the Final Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, 2015", 6 vols (Toronto: Lorimer, 2015), vol. 1. 94. Julie Evans, "Where Lawlessness is Law: the Settler-Colonial Frontier as a Legal Space of Violence," Australian Feminist L J (2009), 3–22; Anthony Anghie, Imperialism, Sovereignty and the Making of International Law (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005); Anghie, "Finding the Peripheries: Sovereignty and Colonialism in Nineteenth-Century International Law," Harvard International Law Journal 10(1) (1999), 3–71. he continues, "grows up" in the "cracks of the law." Willy Maley similarly focuses upon Derrida's preoccupation with the Law's "fraying edges" outside which lies justice.87 Michael Dillon continues that experience involves an absence of a "horizon" or limit to knowledge as if knowledge existed in a spatial container.88 The challenge, then, is to "get at" Law's boundaries, according to David Nelken.89 Once we do so, we will be able to know the locus of justice. Judicial decisions and legal commentaries about the exclusion of indigenous peoples from the Law manifest a similar territorial-like character to the exclusionary character of the Law. The assumption of the jurists is that pre-settler inhabitants possessed and still possess an "Indianness" culturally distant from the state-centric legal order.90 This is the view of the Supreme Court of Canada which has required indigenous complainants to establish that they had a "right" to fish or hunt or cut timber historically before such European contact and to establish that this right was continuous to the present-day when one remained dependent upon the right for one's livelihood.91 The Canadian Courts have also assumed a territorial-like distance between common law title, as elaborated in the common law, and "aboriginal title" prior to sovereignty.92 Reservations were established to exclude the indigenous inhabitants from the legal culture as if we could deny the inhabitants inside the signifiers of the official legal language. And residential schools were authorized by the state over nine generations with the sole purpose of assimilating the indigenous children into the "civilization" represented by the Law.93 This juridical territorial-like distance between the Law and those indigenous inhabitants excluded from the Law has been reinforced in studies of the colonialization94 and of legal racism by the Law towards indigenous Conklin 23 95. See e.g. Robert A. Williams, The American Indian in Western Legal Thought: The Discourses of Conquest (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992 (orig. 1990)); Patrick Wolfe, "Corpus Nullius: The Exception of Indians and other Aliens in US Constitutional Discourse," 10(2) (2007), 127–51; P.P. Curtin, Imperialism (London and Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 1971). 96. See Canada, Truth and Reconciliation Commission, pp. 1–22, 43–110; Glen Sean Coulthard, Red Skin White Masks: Rejecting the Colonial Politics of Recognition (Minneapolis, MN and London: University of Minnesota Press, 2014), pp. 105–49. 97. For a focus upon the experiential distance between legal language and indigenous languages see James Tully, "The 'Spirit of Haida Gwaii' as a symbol of the age of cultural diversity," in Strange Multiplicity: Constitutionalism in an age of diversity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), pp. 19–29; Aimée Craft, "Living Treaties, Breathing Research," Canadian Journal of Women and Law 26 (2014), 1–22. 98. For an example of the merging of law and literature see, e.g., Costas Douzinas and Adam Geary, Critical Jurisprudence: The Political Philosophy of Justice (Oxford: Hart, 2005), pp. 357–9. 99. Austin Sarat, Marianne Constable, David Engel, Valerie Hans, and Susan Lawrence (eds), Crossing Boundaries: Traditions and Transformations in Law and Society Research (Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1998). 100. Though not necessarily as the philosophers had intended as in the case of the Supreme Court of Canada's legitimizing of its utilitarian approach to rights by citing Ronald Dworkin's work. peoples.95 Even today "reconciliation" has been framed in terms of a territorial-like axis of reference where indigenous self-government, like an indigenous Reservation in the past, is imagined as if a territorial-like space separate and independent of the state's space.96 The language of the Law is said to become "distant" from the indigenous languages.97 The territorial-like boundary has also been manifested in juristic efforts to cross the boundary separating scholarly disciplines and the law. This need to "cross-over" the territorial-like boundary of the law has characterized literature, sociology, (analytic) philosophy, anthropology, critical legal studies, feminist legal thought and most prominently, socio-legal studies. To take an example and only as an example,98 Austin Sarat and others have set up the intellectual objective of socio-legal studies with reference to the boundary between their discipline and the law.99 Once again, however, a territoriallike boundary has been presumed to separate one discipline, such as the Law, from another, such as socio-legal studies. Such an effort has been manifested by the metaphors employed to clarify the objective: "crossing," "bridging," "mapping," "the path," "field of study," "working within," "an interdisciplinary space," "intellectual space," "stories from the front," "border identities," "space," "place," "ties that bound," "out of bounds." Even the commonly accepted word, "construction," used by lawyers as much as by nonlawyers, has implied a territorial-like act as if a castle were being built. The intellectual objective has been met either by the merging of the foreign discourse with the legal or, alternatively, the assimilation of the foreign discourse into the legal. The best example of the latter is exemplified by the superficial adoption of the terms of analytic legal philosophy by the Supreme Court of Canada.100 24 Law, Culture and the Humanities 101. Hegel explains his notion in Phenomenology of Spirit trans by A.V. Miller (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1977 [1807]), paras 143–65 and Science of Logic, trans by A.V. Miller (London: Humanities Press, 1969 [1812–16]), paras 499–511. I flesh out Hegel's concept of an inverted world in Hegel's Laws: the Legitimacy of a Modern Legal Order (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2008), pp. 84–101. 102. Reference re Manitoba Language Rights, [1985] 1 SCR 721, 19 DLR (4th) 1, SCC. 103. Derrida makes this point in Rogues, p. 150. 104. Derrida, "A Discussion"; Monolingualism, p. 39. V. The Inverted Image of the Outsider Once this sense of territorial-like space is taken for granted, officials and expert knowers of the configurations of signifiers recognize legal persons from the standpoint of the legal space. The consequence, though, is that the man from the country, as a stranger to the Law, is imagined as the inverse of the professional self-image inside the boundary of the legal space. Hegel's idea of an inverted world suggests such a possibility about knowledge generally.101 What is critical here is not the stranger to the legal language but the knower's image of the stranger outside the boundary of the territoriallike space. Instead of rationality, the expert knowers picture a "rational chaos" – to use the term of the Supreme Court of Canada – external to the imagined boundary of legal knowledge.102 Instead of law, the knowers have imagined "lawlessness." Instead of a centralized institution, such as a court, with a "system" of laws, the knowers have imagined a de-centralized "rudimentary," "undeveloped," "pre-legal," "extra-legal," "nomadic," "pre-legal," "savage," "barbaric," "uncivilized" lawless world, and on it goes. The unknowable externality remains outside the territorial-like space imagined as the preserve of the Law. It makes sense, as long as we assume the discipline of law as a territorial-like space, that certain issues, arguments, evidence, texts and the social-cultural content of the Law "fall" within the boundary of Philosophy, Politics or Socio-legal Studies. At the same moment that the Law is believed to exclude other disciplines, however, the boundary of the Law is slowly and subtly expanded by virtue of its claim to universality and a jurisdictional totality over all objects inside its territorial-like space. The consequence, of course, is a cultural violence by the Law as a discipline over other disciplines. This being the case, there is no limit to the knowledge claimed by expert knowers inside their boundary of legal knowledge. The expert knowers are free to expand their imagined boundary in the name of justice and yet, the structure is not responsible for the outsider vis-à-vis the boundary. There cannot be law without the separation of the Law from extra-legal knowledge.103 We must now gain a better grasp of the image of "the Law" as a territorial-like space in legal consciousness. The claim that the Law is universally accessible to "everyone" who falls inside the boundary of a discrete law as territorial-like space or who finds her/ himself inside the territorial-like jurisdiction of the state helps one to understand why Derrida says that all states and all cultures and the Law itself are colonial.104 This is so because the legal structure and its discrete laws, Derrida believes, are universal inside the bounded territorial-like space. This point also explains why Derrida would describe the Conklin 25 105. "This Strange Institution called Literature': an Interview with Jacques Derrida," in Derek Attridge, Acts on Literature (New York and London: Routledge, 1992), pp. 33–75, 37. 106. Derrida, "Strange Institution," p. 42. 107. Derrida, Deconstruction, p. 9. 108. Campbell v. Hall (1774) 1 Cowp 204, 98 ER 1045 (KB). 109. Derrida, "Mandela," p. 20. 110. See Carolyn Steedman, Dust: The Archive and Cultural History (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2001). Law, like Literature, as a "strange institution."105 Law is a language which makes no sense – that is, no signification – outside the boundary of a territorial-like space in legal consciousness. Legal space is thereby imagined because its boundary, an object of deep belief, is also imagined. So, the institutional and normative structures inside the territorial-like structure of the legal discipline construct their own history, a history which never existed but which the legal memory produces and narrates as a rationally coherent order.106 The discipline of law becomes a game of "let's pretend." Other disciplines, each with its own space, can be ignored or excluded as extra-legal. Any legal text is thereby nested in an idiom of familiar signifiers which cannot access the "personal experiences" of the man from the country. Indeed, the experienced events – including the silence with which the man's effort is met by the officials inside the boundary – are forgotten. Indeed, the expert knowers of the official chains of signifiers forget that the experienced events were ever forgotten. The events are cleansed from social and collective memory. For this reason, only the language inside the imagined boundary of the legal space is deconstructable. As Derrida says in an interview, "deconstruction is something which happens and which happens inside."107 The "inside," of course, involves the familiar signifiers inside the imagined boundary of the discipline of the Law. In sum, Derrida, just as does the man from the country, presumes that the Law is a territorial-like space the scope of which is defined by the imagined boundary of the legal discipline. VI. The Arbitrariness of the Law as a Bounded Legal Space The boundary of the legal space does not just happen in this year or month – better known amongst lawyers as "the Birthday" of the State. The birthday of the foundation of the legal space is a-historical in that it interrupts the experienced events before the Law. The boundary exists a-historically. Since the late 18th century, international and constitutional law has named the birthday the "Critical date" of the formation of the Law.108 Such a Constitution, as Derrida explains in his Mandela essay, "cannot presuppose the previously legitimized existence of a national entity. The same is true for a first constitution."109 The past cannot exist once we imagine the boundary as establishing the legal space.110 Only "History," as a discipline, exists. Such a History, though, is a-historical to the extent that it interrupts previously existing experienced events. As such, there can be no revolution, no terrorism, no crime, and no legal harm except to the extent that the man from the country and Derrida believe in the territorial-like legal space as if it were formed by a "Big 26 Law, Culture and the Humanities 111. I am grateful to Walter Skakoon for this metaphor. 112. Derrida, "Mandela," p. 20. 113. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 204. 114. Derrida, "Before the Law," p. 204. 115. Derrida, "Before the Law," pp. 205–6. 116. See also Derrida's discussion of this passage in "Before the Law," p. 220. Bang."111 Pressed further, the Founding Fathers' "Constitution" represents Plato's Big Lie in a world which deconstructs metaphysical objectivity. The first chapter of a constitution is self-creative and self-determining purged of the possibility of a pre-legal, external world outside and before the Critical date. The formal rational discourse inside the imagined boundary of the legal space offers an unquestioned source of the legitimacy for the Law as self-creative and self-determining.112 Because of the imagined boundary, even the Law as legal space shares the arbitrariness of an a-experienced dimension. Derrida's Kafka may well be hinting at this possibility when we are left with the apparent conclusion that the boundary – the doorway to the Law – does not offer a place for the invitation to the man from the country nor does the doorway function as a venue to command the man to enter. Before the man enters the Law, s/he is an experiential subject. That is, the man possesses experiential knowledge understood through her/his own personal memories of the harm which had encouraged the man to come before the Law. The man also possesses experiential knowledge about the personal and collective memories of the silenced response from the officials of the Law to his concern regarding his lack of access to the Law. Derrida writes that "[b]efore the law, the man is a subject of the law in appearing before it."113 The man from the country is a meaning-constituting subject. Derrida continues that [t]his is obvious, but since he is before it because he cannot enter it, he is also outside the law (an outlaw). He is neither under the law nor in the law. He is both a subject of the law and an outlaw.114 Derrida says shortly thereafter that "the man of nature is not only a subject of the law outside the law, he is also, in both an infinite and a finite way, the prejudged, not so much as a prejudged subject but as a subject before a judgment which is always in preparation and always being deferred."115 In short, once the subject is recognized as a signifier in the official language, the subject becomes a legal person. Derrida, the man from the country and the gate-keeper all assume that the meaning-constituting subject is an outlaw because such a subject is excluded from the territorial-like space. That space is accepted as if a fact of nature. As the priest ends his recounting of the parable, "[t]hat means I belong to the Court," said the priest. "So why should I want anything from you?" The Court wants nothing from you. It receives you when you come and it dismisses you when you go. (222)116 Centralized legal institutions are just "there." Again, "[t]he court wants nothing from you." The Law is just "out there" as a passive "fact" separate from the experiential world of the outsiders from the officials and expert knowers, as insiders. This passivity of a fact Conklin 27 117. See the commentators in Derrida, Ethics, 19–56. See also Peter Pericles Trifonas, "What Comes Next? Or After Difference: Meditations on the Debt and Duty to the Right to Philosophy," in Ethics, pp. 57–105, 94. 118. Derrida, "Force of Law," p. 244. is the outcome of the timelessness and a-experiential sense of space characterizing "the Law." The man from the country is forgotten. Indeed, the Court has forgotten that it ever forgot the man from the country as an experiential being. VII. Derrida's Aporia We are left, then, with an aporia or "dead-end." This aporia is not just Kafka's. Nor is the aporia Derrida's. The aporia is shared with the man from the country, the gatekeeper, the priest, and contemporary lawyers, judges, law professors, law deans and law students. Even philosophers share this aporia.117 The Law is believed to be a territoriallike space existing by virtue of its boundary. Such a space exists because of its imagined boundary. We cannot cross the boundary to recognize evidence, an issue, text or an argument or the insights of another discipline as long as we believe in the boundary of the Law as a delimited territorial-like space. We remain in a dead-end road. Derrida's aporia, it needs emphasis, rests in the very presumed boundary of territorial-like space. One cannot believe in a boundary of such a space unless one also implicitly claims to know what is on the other side of the boundary. How else could an expert knower imagine a boundary? The aporia, though, rests with an imagined boundary of legal knowledge. The expert knower – the noble of the contemporary world inside the boundary of the Law – is entrapped in that s/he desires to access law even on behalf of others but s/he cannot know the Law without knowing the externality of the boundary which s/he has imagined – something that the boundary delimits. As Derrida himself puts it in "The Force of Law," we cannot access "the experience of what we are unable to experience."118 The boundary estops the expert knower from claiming to know the externality of the Law's boundary. Such a knowledge is an unknowable remainder to the Law – at least the Law as imagined as a territorial-like space in legal consciousness. This aporia holds the key to the possibility of understanding the boundary of "the Law" and therefore the discipline of "the Law" itself. Once we expert knowers become self-conscious about the boundary as the product of our own imagination and belief, the boundary and with it the Law dissolves as a "given" in legal knowledge. And with such a dissolution, the suffering of the man from the country might well be addressed by the nobles. So too, for that matter, might the suffering of the foreigner of the contemporary bounded legal space. Acknowledgements I am grateful to Walter Skakoon, the anonymous reviewers for this Journal, Peter Valente and the respondents to earlier versions of this article at the Ethics Centre, University of Toronto on March 23, 2016; the "Law, Culture and the Humanities" Conference, Washington, DC, March 6, 2015; the XXVII World Congress of the International Society for the Philosophy of Law and Social Philosophy (IVR), Washington, DC, July 29, 2015; and the British Branch of IVR, London UK, October 25, 2014.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
The Principle of Analogy. ABSTRACT. Sceptics question whether 'distinctively human' predicates such as 'just', 'loving' and 'powerful' can intelligibly be attributed to a divine being. If not, then a vicious form of agnosticism seems to threaten orthodox theism. Especially if one assumes a broadly empiricist semantics the challenge, whether formulated in terms of a univocal or an equivocal understanding of predicates, seems to generate intractable philosophical problems. Aquinas' theory of analogical predication, understood either in terms of 'analogy duorum ad tertium' or in terms of 'analogy unus ad alterum', is an influential response to this sceptical challenge. Difficulties in each understanding are explored and it is suggested that a more fruitful framework for understanding theistic language is to be found in late 20th century nativism of Fodor and Quine. A familiar feature of Judaic Christian thought and worship, indeed a feature of all theistic religions, is the belief that God possesses certain attributes. For example, he is wise, truthful, just and forgiving. Throughout the history of Christian thought, however, such attributions have given rise to intellectual perplexities for believers and unbelievers alike; for how can the language of finite human beings adequately describe the attributes of a transcendent God? And if divine attributes cannot be known then a form of radical scepticism seems to threaten orthodox theism. The Principle of Analogy is a response to this problem. It is a philosophical device designed to clarify the meanings of predicates which are commonly attributed to God and to do so in such a way that it overcomes the scepticism concerning their meaningfulness which I have just described. In exploring the Principle I will first clarify the sceptical challenge and some of the assumptions about meaning on which it rests; I will then explain and critically examine some of the ways in which the Principle has been formulated; finally, I will offer a brief critique of the philosophical assumptions which underlie the Principle indicating how an alternative approach might overcome some of the difficulties which have been addressed. 1. The sceptical challenge. The sceptical challenge argues that terms can used meaningfully to refer to God only when certain semantic and theological background conditions are satisfied. It goes on to argue that theistic terms fail to satisfy the relevant background conditions and concludes that the terms familiarly used to refer to God are meaningless. The challenge runs as follows. Consider some of the the terms with which, as I have said, we typically refer to God: He is loving, just, wise and forgiving. Let us suppose that we accept what might be called 'the Empiricist Principle' to the effect that the meanings of such 'essentially human terms' are learned in empirical contexts; I learn what wisdom is by contrasting the people that I know who possess it with those I know who do not possess it; I learn what love is by contrasting behaviour which is loving with behaviour which is less loving and so on. Let us accept, also, the logical truth that the property terms in question, when applied to God, either preserve or do not preserve the meanings which they have in everyday human contexts; in the former case the meanings are said to be 'univocal', in the latter they are said to be 'equivocal'. Now to suppose the meanings to be univocal renders an understanding of their meaning unproblematical; divine love is continuous with (though greater than) human love, divine wisdom is continuous with (though greater than) human wisdom and so on. Hence if we know the meanings of the terms in human contexts we can know them, by extension, in divine contexts. However, attractive though it first appears, some consider this account to be unacceptable: theologians have argued that it compromises divine 'otherness' or transcendence, it confuses the finite with the infinite, and it leaves us with a wholly 'anthropomorphic' conception of God. These convictions form the first horn of the dilemma. The alternative assumption, that property terms referring to God are to be understood in an equivocal sense, also generates problems. If we only know the meanings of terms in empirical contexts and so can know nothing of their meaning in transcendent contexts, then since God is a transcendent being the properties cannot intelligibly be attributed to Him. And what then can we meaningfully say about God? The terms which we familiarly use of God have been emptied of all intelligible content and we are left with a conception of God which is so attenuated that we are in danger of lapsing into scepticism concerning the divine nature. This is the second horn of the dilemma. That these alternatives appear exhaustive and that each is unacceptable is the problem to which the Principle of Analogy is offered as a solution. The problem just described has consistently engaged the Christian Church over the centuries. Seeds of a theory of analogical predication are to be found in the writings of the Patristic period. Augustine is influenced by it when, in De Trinitate, he illustrates the mysteries of the Triune Being by drawing attention to analogous mysteries surrounding human psychology and in the late medieval period a rigorous examination of the issues was undertaken, especially by Aquinas and Suarez. In the early modern period sceptical doubts still lingered: Archbishop King, for example, argued that our conceptions of God's nature are as different from true knowledge of God as is a map from the land which it represents; Bishop Browne maintained that since our knowledge of God is composed of worldly ideas we have no more notion of divine things 'than a blind man hath of light.' The neo-Kantian framework of phenomenal and noumenal worlds revived similar agnostic worries and even in the closing decades of the twentieth century the issue engaged theists such H.L. Mansel as well as sceptics such as A.G.N. Flew. Responses to the sceptical argument either accept the basic philosophical framework which I have just described or they challenge it. The latter possibility should be noted because the Empiricist Principle has been rejected in this century by philosophers such as Chomsky, Fodor, Quine and Wittgenstein, a point to which I will return in the conclusion. More commonly, theists have accepted the sceptic's underlying empiricist assumptions and, as a consequence, have been led to accept some form of the theory of analogy which forms the subject matter of this article. The principle of analogy is an important and influential response and it is to it, especially to its classical expression in the Scholastic period, that we must now turn. 2. The Principle of Analogy. When Aquinas looked for a theory of the divine attributes he drew upon the philosophical traditions of the Greeks, especially upon the ideas of Aristotle whose works were at that time becoming available in the universities of Paris, Oxford and Bologna. Here he found both the basic philosophical assumptions and the detailed categories of thought within which the theory of analogical predication was formulated. Prominent in the former were, firstly, Aristotle's theory of concepts, especially his distinction between equivocal and univocal terms and his account of the different kinds of equivocation; and secondly, his account of the different senses of being, in particular his stress that the different senses of being may be unified by their relationship to one fundamental sense. Even more important to the needs of the Schoolmen was Aristotle's account of how we acquire knowledge of attributes. According to this view we have no direct knowledge of Forms such as wisdom, love or justice; rather we come to know these things only indirectly by experiencing the imperfect embodiments of them in particular persons and actions. The theory of analogy drew on these basic Aristotelian categories so as to explain how, granted our finite understanding, we can have knowledge of the infinite divine character. In so doing Aquinas distinguished, first, between the two forms that analogy may take, 'duorum ad tertium' and 'unius ad alterum' and then distinguished between two sub-divisions of the latter, namely the analogy of attribution and the analogy of proportionality. As we shall see, each of these elements played an influential role in the development of the theory of analogy and it is to and exposition and criticism of these theories that we must now turn. 'Analogy duorum ad tertium'. This form of analogy links two analogates, or bearers of properties, by virtue of their relationship to a third analogate in which the property which is the basis for the resemblance is paradigmatically displayed. Suppose then, that analogates Ai, Aii and Aiii all exhibit, non-univocally, a property P. An analogy duorum ad tertium obtains between P as exhibited in Ai and Aii if and only if the following conditions are satisfied: Ai resembles Aii; Ai and Aii both resemble Aiii; the property P is displayed paradigmatically in Aiii so that, in Scholastic terms, Aiii is the 'prime analogate' or Form of the property in question; finally, it is by virtue of the presence of P in Aiii that Ai resembles Aii. Consider the property of being healthy. Fresh fruit is a healthy form of food, walking is a healthy form of exercise and Jones is a healthy person. The health that Jones enjoys is the prime analogate; fresh fruit and walking are healthy by analogy in the sense that they enjoy similar relationships to the prime analogate. In our present context, humans and God are analogates which resemble each other by virtue of their relation to another analogate, which is the Form of the property in respect of which God and humans are alike. 'Analogy duorum ad tertium' is rarely invoked as an account of divine attributes. Recall the problem with which the principle of analogy is centrally concerned: the meanings of all human property terms are derived from empirical contexts ('The Empirical Principle') and we wonder if they can be meaningfully applied beyond those contexts. The problem is that if The Empirical Principle is accepted then the meaning of prime analogates is as inaccessible as the meanings of the terms which describe divine attributes. We may state the problem in the form of a dilemma: either we accept The Empirical Principle or we do not accept it. If we accept the principle then we can never know the meaning of prime analogates because, as Forms, by reference to which attributes are ascribed both to God and to human beings, their meanings necessarily go beyond these contexts. On the other hand, if we reject The Empirical Principle and assert that meanings can transcend human experience then the meanings of prime analogates are, in principle, accessible. However, if that is the case then the whole theory of 'analogy duorum ad tertium' loses its rationale. If human empirical contexts can, after all, be transcended and we have direct access to the meanings of prime analogates, then there is no reason, in principle, why we should not have direct knowledge of the meaning of terms that refer to divine attributes. 'Analogy duorum ad tertium' is redundant. If the scholastic principle of analogy is to be plausible, therefore, we must turn to the form that it took in 'analogy unus ad alterum'. This type of analogy postulates only a non-univocal relationship between two analogates, no third independent analogate is involved. In its turn, however, it subdivides into the analogy of attribution and the analogy of proportionality and it is to these forms that we must now look for a more coherent account of the theory. The analogy of attribution. The most important feature of this form of analogy is that the attribute properly belongs to one of the two analogates, the prime analogate, and only relatively or derivatively to the other analogate. Some technical terms will require elucidation, however, in the process of expounding this conception. Firstly, consider primacy. It is tempting to think that the primacy in question is ontological and that since all perfections are most fully realised in the divine nature, the prime analogate is God. In the present context, however, this would be a mistake. We are interested in the extent to which terms whose meaning is learned in human experience can, if at all, be applied to God and, by implication, whether we can ever know the meaning of such terms when applied to God. Consequently the primacy is question is semantic and epistemological, not ontological and it is the meaning of terms in finite, empirical contexts that is primary and their application to God that is derivative. Secondly, when we speak of derivative attributions the relationship is usually thought of as being causal, the derivative attribution being causally effective in relation to the primary analogate. To take the standard example, fresh fruit is healthy because eating it is causally linked to the health of the healthy person. In the theistic context, therefore, a divine attribute is whatever is causally necessary to bring about the attribute which is properly displayed in the prime analogate, namely human beings. Thus when we say that God and humans are both good we are, so far as analogy of attribution is concerned, saying no more than that God has goodness to the degree and in the form that are causally effective in producing human goodness. This having been made clear, the difficulty with the analogy of attribution is evident. We wish to know in what ways divine attributes resemble human attributes and the answer is this: the analogates apply non-univocally to both God and humans and God's attributes are causally sufficient in relation to human attributes. But this does not enable us to say whether, in what respect or to what degree divine attributes are like human attributes. Our agnostic and sceptical doubts are not relieved by the analogy of attribution; we must either find a more plausible rendering of primacy or reformulate the theory without any conception of primacy. It is the latter alternative which we will now explore. The analogy of proportionality. In this, as in the previous case, the principle of analogy involves a common attribute ascribed, nonunivocally, to two analogates. In the case of proportionality, however, the relationship is not hierarchical: neither of the analogates is primary. The attribute is found formally in both analogates but the mode of their presence is determined by the nature of the bearer. There is not then, a literal equivalence between wisdom or love or justice as found in God and in humans. Both possess the attributes but the essential nature of the bearer determines the form of the attribute that each possesses. As A.M.Farrer explains, 'Divine intelligence is appropriate to divine existence as creaturely to creaturely.' In summary, in the analogy of proportionality an attribute is exemplified in each of two analogates in the form that is appropriate to each analogate and quite independently of any relation to a prime analogate. This conception of analogy has its origins in Greek mathematics in which it referred to the proportionality, that is to the common or reciprocal relations (eg. double, triple etc.), which exist between two proportions. However, it was best known in the context of direct comparisons between terms with similar meanings and resemblances between relations. Thus: divine wisdom = human wisdom , divine love = human love divine nature human nature divine nature human nature This conception of analogy has much to commend it. On the one hand, it seems to justice to the sense of divine 'otherness', to the sense that God's attributes differ in kind as well as in degree, from human attributes; and so it is not open to the charge of anthropomorphism to which some accounts seem vulnerable. Yet, on the other hand, it does seem to recognise a continuity between divine attributes and human attributes, thus avoiding the threat of scepticism. The difficulty with the analogy of proportionality is not so much that what it asserts is false: how, for example, could one fault the contention that God's attributes are appropriate to His divine nature? The problem is more that the theory does not say enough and that what it says does not show how agnostic doubts about the nature of divine attributes can be answered. The theory attempts to throw light on the divine attributes by drawing attention to the fact that the relationship between God's attributes and God's nature is the same as the relationship between human attributes and human nature. Since we know the latter relationship, it is assumed that we can move to the former; and that we can move from knowledge of the former to knowledge of the nature of God's attributes. However, we do not come to know human attributes by grasping their relationship with some conception of human nature. Rather, we have direct non-analogical knowledge of human attributes. That being the case, the problem in connection with divine attributes is that on the present theory we do not possess a knowledge of the divine nature which enables us to qualify the relevant attribute, nor do we know what the appropriate qualification would be. In place of a theory there is merely the promise of one. Consider a specific example. We are told that human love is relative to human nature. But how does that differ from merely saying that there are certain characteristic ways in which human beings show their love? And, correspondingly, it is not clear how the view that divine love is relative to the divine nature differs from merely saying that divine love manifests itself in various characteristic forms. The analogy of proportion seems to take us no closer to a knowledge of the nature of the divine attributes. 3. Conclusion. If an intermediate position between univocal and equivocal accounts of divine attribute terms cannot be found then Christian philosophers might be expected to explore radical alternatives which would challenge the framework within which the basic problem arose. One such radical alternative, to which I alluded briefly, at the end of section 1, would be to challenge the Empirical Principle and it is to this suggestion that I now return. There are both philosophical and theological strands to such an alternative. Firstly, at a philosophical level we should note the precarious status in contemporary philosophy of the Empiricist Principle itself. The Empiricist Principle (the meaning of all property terms is derived from experience) is not self-evidently true, so on what grounds is it asserted? It has been challenged from many philosophical quarters in recent decades. Chomsky has argued that one cannot explain the acquisition of basic linguistic structures without postulating innate cognitive capacities and Fodor has extended this thesis to the acquisition of all concepts. More generally, Quine and Wittgenstein have mounted sustained attacks on the empiricist conceptions of concept formation. If we follow Quine in replacing the 'two dogmas of empiricism' by a form of holism, constrained by simplicity, consistency and epistemic conservatism we would have an alternative framework for defending human knowledge of divine attributes. The alternative to empiricism would be a nativism which held that our knowledge of meanings is a function of our innate cognitive structures together with experience which shapes and informs those innate structures. Secondly, at a theological level, the account of human knowledge of divine attributes would form one part of the general belief that humans were created in the image of God. On such an account empiricist conceptions of concept formation would be replaced by what I shall refer to as 'strong theistic nativism.' Nativism is the view that concept formation is, at least in part, a function of the structure of the cognitive capacities of the knowing subject. Theistic nativism is the view that nativism is true and that human cognitive capacities are the result of God's creative activity. Strong theistic nativism is the view that nativism is true and that God has created human cognitive capacities so that they can recognise and respond to God's own character. Empiricist incomprehension concerning the divine attributes would be overcome on such a view. Acceptance of the Empiricist Principle made it seem strange, if not incomprehensible, that our finite cognitive structures could provide us with knowledge of the divine nature. However, on strong theistic nativism this is not in the least strange: humans have knowledge of the divine attributes precisely because God created them in such a fashion that they might know, love and serve Him. Dr. Harry Bunting Formerly: Faculty member, Department of Philosophy, University of Ulster. [email protected] Bibliography. Alston,W. (1985). 'Functionalism and Theological Language', American Philosophical Quarterly 22 (3): pp.221 230 Aquinas, Thomas (2017) Summa Theologica. New York, CreateSpace Publishers Ferre, Frederick (1970) Language, Logic and God. New York, Fontana. Joyce, G.C. (1927) 'Analogy' Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics ed. J.Hastings, Edinburgh, J&J Clark. Mascall, E.L. (1949) Existence and Analogy New York, Longman.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
THE KIOSK FOR DOCTORAL STUDIES IN US [1986-2018] PLUS SOME EXTENSION KIYOUNG KIM Professor of Law AK.Edu Consulting www.youtube.com › UCBTLFjuPrBolPJZujvYtwvg 2 Chapter 1 Introduction We may feel a kind of universal sharing although the world is surely some of a wide splinter of societies with the different interests, mode of custom or practice as well as societal norms and ends. One of area evidenced through a track of years probably would have become sparing within the world of college and university evaluation. Beyond the limited scale of national practice to rank the institutions or programs, a trajectory of transformation on globalization and increasing awareness tending to a ubiquitous community over jurisdictions obviously contributed to bring the service of educational evaluation. It appears now to be as necessary and informative for the audience or interested actors as public officers, administrators and professors within the higher education, as well as parents and students. Around, the dusk of new millennium, ARWU initiated by Shanghai transportation university and in collaboration with the expert groups working in Hong-Kong based consulting firm launched a new business to rank the global colleges and universities (CUs), which were followed by QS and THE some years later and considered three most influential rankers, what is now called IREGs in abbreviation. QS is a UK based consulting firm for the students and parents, whose devotion is globally and widely spread to provide the information and academic guide to choose their step for the next stage of higher education. With the development of strategic disagreement with QS, THE embarked on its own framework and working network around 2007, which is being carried along with its traditional engagement with the national rankings. Given the widest and extended array of traditional jobs in USNR, it also raised a new profile of ranking business to respond with the surging needs for providing the information, on which the students wished of foreign study can explore or make an effective decision. Its aim is to suit their personal status further with consulting service. The kind of public institutions had risen to expand their profile of business based on know-hows and in response with the needs of consumers. For example, ARWU introduced a new face of expanded subject rankings recently from 2017. It earned now two years that the second time reporting had been released some weeks ago. The number of subjects, as enlarged around 50-60s, accounted for the categorization of journal domains within the web of science and Essential Scientific Indicators, which closely can be approximated with those that can be felt within the concentrations of student at campus. Given the collegiate level of subject categories previously as Natural and Social Sciences or Engineering, the number now can be received with the feel of departmental or program level varieties. This change can come in contrast, for example, that the USNR began and continues to rely on the journal classification austerelyinitially 21 and 22 as added with Art and Humanity and with the aid of Clarivate Analytics. QS differs from those two in that it started with a relatively large number of subjects and incrementally to add year by year at the current number of 54 rated subjects. THE had no stark deals with detailed subjects and as small as 13 in number, which featured some annual increase in coverage recent years. Nevertheless, the ambit of THE to deal with the needs of ranking information interestingly garnered a new area of business at Tandem with Wall Street or Japanese organization, which provides a domestic college ranking of US or rankings of Japanese universities. Another interesting website to rank universities globally would be CWUR, whose scope of subjects are most noteworthy in number spanning around 200-300 subjects, totally based on the number of publication with prestigious journals. It exhibited a distinct mode of presentation to the global audience that publishes the subject and country ranking daily, expected complete through one year fully. Given the rank of subjects had a great deal of implication for the decision making of students or parents, the number around 50, hence ARWU and QS seemingly can be most effective in the consultation process of entering the universities or colleges. Another point of consideration is some rate of different methodologies between the subject rankings and CUs' ranking overall inherent within the above rankings. Therefore, it is not to completely receive the result of ranking if you pass through it by looking to the overall ranking only. The introduction and information about the data and methodology would be available within each respective ranking website. They also usually present information for the most rated institutions or top institution on each subject. The idea was used to frame the KIOSK in later section, and I once exemplified onto my faculty website at Chosun Univ.1 Unfortunately, the information below does not fully include most 1 According to the IREG presentation by Moase on USNR educational ranking, I mentioned, ""In 2015, UW-Madison was given a top ranking by U.S. News & World Report as a global university based on the number of times it placed within the top 100 of 21 evaluated subjects, tied with Harvard University and the University of Toronto." (From wikipedia page : UW-MADISON). Long decades from my graduation year, but nearest in time for the senior alumni as me if it were to be 2015. 2015, the first year 3 recent update in some cases, which I promise to make it complete later by following up with the kind of immanent evolution concerning a respective ranking schema to attend with the needs of public. The global rankings can pose a different form of methodology provided that the student side of information would not be processed to reach a final ranking outcome. Of course, that slot of measure would not be entirely excluded, but indirectly incorporated by assessing the employer's reputation or award of alumni and the kind. Nevertheless, the kind of student credentials, such as GPA or test scores as SAT, MCAT and GRE, a direct valuable to rate the quality of class or group, were not used to yield ranking by international ranking agencies.2 It also has a major attribute to entirely or in major portion of covered factors, avail of the research performance data from the journals, i.e., SCIs and SSCIs or Scopus. ARWU uses a double classification for the Nature and Science along with a simple number of publications, and employs a factor for award, which is similar to CWUR internationally or CMUP nationally. THE considers at a fraction the research income or grant of universities as similar to the domestic report of US authorities, such as some graduate programs in USNR or NRC. In any case, the faculty quality often dominantly would be a unique factor in focus to explain the ranking outcome. The aims of this book is clear and straightforward. First, it was motivated to convert an inhumane or insipid experience with the various sources of global ranking into the kind of humanly and cultural experience within our daily lifestyle. Their outlook from presentation is masked with the number purely and perhaps through a myriad of complicated data or ranking information.3 The concept or selfidentification within the experience or exposure would be less substantial or hard to get palpable. My attempt to improve this aspect of contemporary practice certainly will fall short, but you can sense in some paragraphs or titles. I wrote this small piece of book in the end to take care of human integrity and stories for advancing the inherence and liveliness of interested actors or consumers despite all the wind-heads from the turf of existing ranking sources. The idea hopefully might be compatible with brand personification for the people interested in this area of world phenomenon. Second, you may find a section over your perusal that I used this edition to follow up with my previous publication on ranking issues, meaning to incorporate a new development through ascertaining on the research of Westlaw, Lexis/Nexis and Heinonline. In some sections, I had responded with the kind of educational consulting website by stretching the national graduate or postgraduate study as globally. The education consulting website, close to me in the nature of work through this booklet (hence you may call K-Edu besides my title as professor), also is no less important to civilize this world through the issues or enhance public channel of communication if it may be more humanly or direct with the students and parents. They carry their business primarily through data provision from the major providers and as second hand. They also are doing business at tandem to establish a partnership with expert data collection and that US News goes global, perhaps inverse to 1776 year of national independence . http://ireg-observatory .org/en/ireg-forumaalborg /presentations /3session /Robert -J-Morse .pdf Actually interesting to see some comparison if the politics goes national across the global village..." 2 Another credentials for college admission require a proof of foreign language skills, such as TOEFL or IELTS and Cambridge Certificate, and may be considered to include when rating. However, given the foreign base of student pool often structurally is far less in number to the native applicants over jurisdictions – (if international outlook as one element by some case of global raters), the inclusion of TOEFL score is seldom practiced in my experience except for only one instance. The webpages of CU, of course, kindly provide the information of TOEFL score, such as a minimum requirement so as to be considered for admission. Often it is 600 on paper form testing (can be converted to the scale of the internet form testing or IELTS, TOEICI, and on), arguably leveraged to the general language capabilities of native college student. Often that is the point of dissatisfaction with the native speaking professors that foreign students can perform well in the English test and gain an entrance, but that they often are less industrious to maintain their performance level in the TOEFL exam room or remain silent and actually less fluent against the professor's expectation known from each level standard of TOEFL score by ETS. They also said, "it is surprising, however, that those foreign students obtain a high grade through the school examinations with academic success, which is despite their experience within English communication." Besides such level of score, some institutions may uniquely require a higher score for admission consideration, for example, 610 for Columbia LLM and SJD, 615 for MBA and Ph.D with Hass Business school at UC-Berkeley and 625 for the SJD at UW-Madison, and so. Given 600 for Yale, Harvard, Stanford and Duke for such student groups, the programs at those institutions facially set higher limits for entrance-of course, a strict cut off administration seems not to be a principle, but can be consulted with or viewed amenable to the discretion of admission decision makers as an educator. 3 A little of fine practice can be found in QS, international as we know, and Princeton Review, national to service the US. A star mark can look special beyond the orderly cluster of ranked items in QS and a variety of campus profiles are rated in Princeton Review, such as top party school or campus magazine. 4 analysis specialists. A notable example would be the website of "thebestschools.org" which announced the world university ranking currently in May this year by contracting to use the labor of influenceranking.com that looked into the web influence of institutions along with identification of top ten institutions across the 30 to 35 subjects. The idea was insightful to consider the past (alumni) and present tense (faculty) of institutional affiliation in measuring the rate of influence on web and from specific institutions. The kind of ideas is useful to correspond with a human genome of audience and helps to address the nature of ranking. For example, you may find a dual report concerning the US graduate program below in section, i.e., "top quality graduate programalternative to Gourman" and KIOSK. The first type holds a focus on the capability and potential of institutions to yield a quality program in each field while the second one actually is presenting the end result through a subject to subject assessment. It also pertains to the attempt with measuring on the degree-based assessment than faculty productivity. The former will work to present an end result of education while the latter focuses on the educational process of service delivery concerning the capability and potential. The structure of book was organized in less complete way, but might look cursory and spontaneous. The dealings obviously are never exhaustive unlike the major commercial providers, rather more akin to the consulting webs primarily in direct contact with the customers. Nevertheless, the ranking results finalized through this book is original in its methodology or in terms of data collection although the presentation is little in scope and mainly suggestive as a kind of ranking philosopher. Given my status as a college professor, it would be an unusual chemistry or brought me to shimmer at some point of meditation on how I could rank fairly and meaningfully. I merely hope that the readership can generously take this attempt as a pilot work or as the kind of post-modern work Avant Gardo or civilization strolls from understanding, criticism. It might be even through a bootstrap with the universal constitutionalism or communicative democracy. The book had been prepared mainly by editing into each section the previous work of articles and flowing through each of my brief pertaining to the purported ranking. Nevertheless, I am presenting an up-to-date elaboration on the graduate or post-graduate study and KIOSK on research doctorates. The refinement and boost had been made with a rejuvenation of result to respond with the idea of consulting webs open to public through Google search, for example, FindMasters. I also exerted to think about a new mode on online education and some of rank for blending and adapting with the campus based universities. Since the piece of work arises from the background and life experience of author, the first section began with a research doctorate in law and the result of final rank published previously or traced to affirm with a tweak on weeks effort from the Westlaw and the kind had been placed. Given the primary method of IREGs relies on a five-year span of research performance, the rank differs in that all time consequence of legal scholars had been considered along with the distinct root point concerning a degree based approach than faculty. The implication is that the degree based approach thrust an end result of quality while the assessment of faculty quality only leads the audience to an inferential understanding for the prospect of students on quality performance. A research doctorate in law would variegate globally with respect to the national system and educational curriculum. A graduate based education in US and Canada can be distinct from other countries basically standing on the undergraduate mode of legal education or hybrid nature of institutions to breed the prospective lawyers. In terms of research law, the doctorate is principally required of original piece of research work at its culmination to award a degree. LLD or DCL may be found in the national system of UK which would either earned or honorary without conducting original research. An earned doctorate on this uniquely higher degree on civil law tradition originated from feudal universities. It may be conferred on the basis of stern examination over the presented piece of professional research works, and is only available to the established scholars or faculty. Therefore, it is fairly distinguishable from the legal education or research program instituted with a tuition and instruction. In the second section, you will enjoy the status of peers, a holder of research doctorate in specific discipline, often called Ph.D, to work on the world of academics. A historical wake was charted to rank the programs and can be adjusted globally to respond with the website experience. If the kind of concern or suggestions had been triggered to the higher education, we could not deny the significance of doctoral degree holders since they are a seed and tree to landscape the world universities through an age and ahead on. They also are thriving through a bulwark of research activities with inviolability and as sedulous to excavate a new findings and generate a knowledge. Given their contribution to the civilization and welfare over space and in history, it would not be improper to revert them to the kind of Barons in 13th century Great Britain to press King John to sign a Magna Carta. Below the section titled as King John and in-gene to 5 satire research doctorates in law, the second section was nicknamed Barons splintered with respective expertise and might of exertion, if not realistic in secular consequence or paper tiger. In addition, as you see the title to Chapter 2, you might acquiesce if I not only intended to imply of earnest concept to denote the world of legal professionals, but also experimented on brand personification. That also would show the current picture of ranking contest among them. For example, the alumni of Harvard Law may be proud of law contest given their top place within the subject rankings , and struggled to defend its position.4 The Alumni of Yale Law will like to claim the top place for the law school rankings than law. The UW-Madison graduate or doctoral degree holders in law may like the ranking gleaned from this piece . They not only claim , but also have to defend or compete to earn more advanced rankings within each part of recognition , which looks somewhat futile annually or at each ranker 's interval of time , owing partly , in my guess , to the kind of Calvin 's determinism, or political seasoning by ranker, or scientific nature with a consistent data reproduction or data structuration. The chapter 4 has dealt with an ascending habitus to deliver the higher education in cyberspace. Walden, University of Phoenix or Northeastern University and Liberty University would be some of prestigious peer institutions that lead the current on line education in US. Walden is serving as a flagship university for the Laureate group, whose universities are large in number around 70-80 and as globally distributed. So it entertains a heightened international outlook in this classification of global universities. Some rank was compiled to take a brief look for the taste of audience in this new world of educational paradigm. As followed by chapter 4, the conventional spectrum of global CU rankings was discussed with a new attempt to measure them in chapter 5. Lastly, a reflection and piece of thought were wrought through little pages titled Epilogue in the last chapter. 4 The specifics to address ranking issues may look impractical or even unrealistic for the big passers, but can say to show a corner of competitiveness and glory. While "Duke law school" is one of prestigious law schools in US, the rank on that outlook, however, would have no history for top place. Nevertheless, "Duke law" gloriously attained a top position in the global subject ranking of 2017 THE. The scene would be sharper and more radical for the graduate or research doctorates in law for the UWMadison law school. The interdisciplinary margins as radical over top and worse rank may be found not so seldom as University of Wollongong or rising chines universities between engineering and social science subjects or Mayo clinic on devoted specialty only. In this context, most notable was two renowned institutions about MIT and Harvard traditionally and over history between Engineering and other disciplines. Nevertheless, this kind of aspect as described above and involving law professionals can additionally help to enrich or substantiate the contemporary practice of global raters. Of course, it would be no surprise for the professional rankers given a variety of rankings in Princeton Review, USNR, and National Jurists in US. I prefer or even support this kind of diversification and effort to exposure as mentioned elsewhere: (i) because of basic human element to check and balance or separation of powers principle for civil society if indirectly through academics (ii) as the avenue to remedy the evils or lifestyle of truncation and otherness basing from the industrialization mode of mass deals – possibly majoritarian dictatorship (iii) simply for amusement or basic instinct to enjoy a new or non-highlighted corner of knowledge in human agent. Chapter 2 In search for King John A Law, Law School and Graduate or Research Doctorate in Law 2018 Rank: A Follow up for the 2015 publication The tables below had been prepared to revisit my 2015 publication concerning a rank of research doctorate in law and research doctorate in international relations and diplomacy. In reiteration, the ranking scheme is such limited and illustrative to have a focus on the degrees I had obtained over time. As said, my intention is two-fold; realistic to assess a strength of both research programs and experimental that the idea employed to address them give some kind of formula for various ranking purposes. You can see five tables and four models as differs from the coverage of citing source, such as cases and federal or state, law journals, texts and treatise. Given the law as a practical science, the importance of case citations can well be included into the ranking framework or may be excluded as the ranker prefers. The final ranking was reached, as Table 1 shows, by total result of all four tables. Only five institutions placed at the top of previous publication had been considered and the author largely is firm that other institutions would not outperform them even if a further stretch of investigation is exerted. Unless otherwise noted, the data came from Westlaw mainly and Lexis/Nexis as supplementary, and the search strategy may vary to yield the most accurate number of citations. Abbreviation M1-R: Rank from Model 1 PC: Per capita citation YG: The number of yearly graduates for LLMs/Research doctorates) Table 1: Final Rank Harvard Oxford Yale Chicago Madison Final Rank 2 5 1 Added/4 3.5 4.75 Added 3/3/4/4 Table 2: Model ISecondary sources (law reviews) Harvard Oxford Yale Chicago Madison  Henry Hart Jr.-3,998  Louis Jaffe-1,566  Page Keeton – 6,958  Robert Keeton – 3,537  Henry Monaghan-3,436  Frances Olsen – 1,261  Mari Matsuda -3077  Erwin Griswold – 1,704  Joseph Raz – 3,172  John Finnis – 1,890  Charles Fried – 4,221 * Jeremy Waldron-4,243 * Ian Brownlie 3,198  Henry Manne – 1,523  Myres McDougal – 1,947  James WM Moore – 2,253  Lawrence Friedman – 6,546  Mary Glendon – 4,054  Wayne LaFave – 6,310  Kimberle Crenshaw3,669 M1R ,920 (39.35%) 16,724 (23.57%) 5,723 (8.06%) 10,600 (14.94%) 9,979 (14.06%) YG 185 55 30 85 15  In consideration of future development on this ranking framework, one scholar attracted with a notable accomplishment and high number of citations, who is Jeremy Waldron with 4,254 citations. Some other scholars also are rising considerably to make a change for the Shapiro's most cited scholars, few in number though. The framework is rather a replicate of Shapiro's, as 50 in number for most cited legal scholars than 100 in Heinonline and including the text and treatise writers, and on. In the process, we may decide either to include or exclude scholars outside the framework because they are starkest well be comparable with the preexisting groups although my tight frame would not allow their inclusion. One is Jeremey Waldron for Oxford case (outside 100 in Heinonline), John Langbein for the Cambridge side (58th, outside 50th formula from Shapiro), and Lucian Bebchuk for Harvard (70th, and same). John Langbein was missed because only one Cambridge researcher with citations total 3792 (law journal only), 3942 (law journal + texts and treatises, 4,200 at total including cases) could not outrank five institutions. Cambridge, however, can stay with the previous 6th position. Through the process, the rise or fall within the group as varying with the institutions had been confirmed that ultimately came to set off one side effect against the final rank as I yielded. With a decline of other Harvard legal researchers on the most list of citations over time, it would be a reason that Bebchuk (4087, 4157, 4286, 4298 cites to the frame of this work) was dropped out of the select names on this list. In reminder, I not only agreed, but also followed the Shapiro's framework that independently cherished the articles or legal books beside a scholar as a whole. It is a reason that you can find a number of names on this list with a less citations. In case for J. Waldron, it depends on the policy or choice of rankers whether he will be included or not since he is stark to merit inclusion although it is not formulaic to be penetrating through the framework. Hence, his case is experimental, and I decided to include him to disclose more bright side of Oxford. Therefore, the names appeared were entirely based on Sapiro's except for his case, although I searched widely to chart the pool of potentially most cited scholars. Table 3: Model 2-Secondary sources (law review/texts and treatises) Harvard Oxford Yale Chicago Madison  Henry Hart Jr.-4,138  Louis Jaffe-1,628  Page Keeton – 7,421  Robert Keeton – 3,728  John Wade-2,577  Henry Monaghan – 3,469  Frances Olsen – 1,263  Mari Matsuda -3,088  Erwin Griswold – 1,833  Joseph Raz – 3,185  John Finnis – 1,892  Charles Fried – 4,253 * Jeremy Waldron-4,254 * Ian Brownlie3,208  Lawrence Friedman – 6,637  Mary Glendon – 4,065  Wayne LaFave – 9,272  Kimberle Crenshaw3,671 MIIR 5 PC Total YG 185 55 30 85 15 Table 5: Model IV-Secondary sources + federal appellate  Joseph Raz – 3,196  John Finnis – 1,901  Charles Fried – 4,292 * Jeremy Waldron4,259 * Ian Brownlie-3,222  Lawrence Friedman – 7,649  Mary Glendon – 4,054  Henry Hart Jr.-5,508  Louis Jaffe-1,986  Page Keeton –19,421  Robert Keeton – 8,728  John Wade – 7,384  Henry Monaghan – 3,790  Frances Olsen – 1,289  Mari Matsuda -3,106  Erwin Griswold – 2,206  Henry Hart Jr.-4,668  Louis Jaffe-1,816  Page Keeton – 12,323  Robert Keeton – 5,728  John Wade – 4,439  Henry Mongahn – 3,665  Frances Olsen – 1,275  Mari  Wayne LaFave – 28,989  Kimberle Crenshaw3,678  Wayne LaFave – 14,772  Kimberle Crenshaw3,669 32 1 (36.93%) (21.27%) (13.56%) (16.40%)  Henry Manne – 1,606  Myres McDougal – 1,961  James WM Moore17,750 53,418 (38.89%) 17,144 (12.48) 21,317 (15.52%) 12,791 (9.31%) 32,667 (23.78%) 288 (7.92%) 311 (8.55%) 710 (19.52%) 150 (4.12%) 2,177 (59.87%)  Henry Manne – 1,555  Myres McDougal – 1,960  James WM Moore – 16,962 8 Matsuda -3,100  Erwin Griswold – 2,171 MIVR 5 PC Total YG 185 55 30 85 15 An extension for global scene in Westlaw legal scholars I applied various ways to search for accuracy and against loss on count. For example, "J.S. Mill", Stuart /s Mill, John /s Mill, and so was used for Boolean search on the Westlaw site. Some of notable scholars on law were listed below, which is not exhaustive and who are not included into the box above since their degrees are from other institutions, or are neither a degree recipient after the modern form of graduate education or degree system (for example , PhD degree mainly required of original research and as originated from the German system and influence on philanthropy) around the end of 19th centuries, or without a graduate degree, or a holder of higher doctorate not on the educational basis . The list is thought to encompass all major scholars to the best of my knowledge and so as not to taint my purpose to trace the follow up confirmation for my previous publication, July 2016, on degree-based research impact ranking and consulting result on research doctorate in law. John Locke 9,375 (16,716) J.S. Mill 8250 (9,088) roughly H.L.A. Hart 8,130 (8,260) roughly JJ Rousseau 2,080 (2,274) Thomas Hobbes 3,557 (3,795) Hans Kelsen 2,962 (3,002) roughly Carl Schmitt 1,228 (1,558) Georg Jellinek 172 (174) William Blackstone 11,960 (16,897) Jeremy Bentham 5,782 (6,147) Edward Coke 2,994 (3,906) P.S. Atiyah 992 (1,016) Glanville Williams 1,270 (1,453) Carol Smart 410 (620) J.H. Baker 904 (1,023) Neil MacCormick 2,402 (2,362) Between the Social Science and Law The social scientist often works closely to impact the legal research and jurisprudence, which draws upon a continued interest for the legal scientists if wearing a tuxedo vividly for their identity, for example, alphabet J on their degree name in US to imagine how much they exert an influence over them. Below is a part of answer for the curiosity that I provided the citations total printed on the Westlaw website for 37 most cited scholars in Art, Humanity and social Science compiled by Thomson Reuter and published in 2007 issue of THE supplemental. The citations total are all time that you need to be careful for a meaningful comparative feel. It is more than sharp to skew according to the 132 39,185 (36.76%) 16,870 (15.74%) 20,477 (19.21%) 11,703 (10.97%) 18,441 (17.30%) 208 (8.11%) 306 (11.94%) 682 (26.61%) 137 (5.34%) 1,229 (47.97%) 9 - 10 disciplines of scholar. For example, citations of Bandura by legal authority is far less than Foucault in proportionality against their total citations in the Web of Science. The philosophers, Immanuel Kant and John Dewey, for example, and political scholars on morality, i.e., John Rawls, Karl Marx, Max Weber, will have a more chance to be cited by the legal researchers or jurists. Table 6: Comparison between the Web of Science and Westlaw (Non-legal scholars) based on the Times Higher Education Most cited authors of books in the humanities, 2007 Michel Foucault (1926-1984) Philosophy, sociology, criticism Pierre Bourdieu (1930-2002) Sociology Jacques Derrida (1930-2004) Philosophy 2,521 ---3,749 2,465 ---1,299 1,874 ---1,633 Anthony Giddens (1938- ) Sociology 1,303 --771 Jurgen Habermas (1929- ) Philosophy, sociology Max Weber (1864-1920) Sociology Judith Butler (1956- ) Philosophy 1,049 ---2,815 971 --4,033 960 --1,533 Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) Psychoanalysis Gilles Deleuze (1925-1995) Philosophy Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) Philosophy 903 ---1895 897 --269 882 ---4,957 Noam Chomsky (1928- ) Linguistics, philosophy 812 --910 Ulrich Beck (1944- ) Sociology 733 ---394 Jean Piaget (1896-1980) Philosophy 725 ---527 David Harvey (1935- ) Geography 723 --392 John Rawls (1921-2002) Philosophy 708 ---8,984 Geert Hofstede (1928- ) Cultural studies 700 ---212 Edward W. Said (1935-2003) Criticism 694 --563 Field Citations to books in 2007 (one sample year and in the Web of Science)---Citations in Westlaw (all time) Albert Bandura (1925- ) Psychology 1,536 --340 Erving Goffman (1922-1982) Sociology 1,066 ---1,308 Bruno Latour (1947- ) Sociology, a nthropology 944 --455 Martin Philosophy Heidegger (1889-1976) 874 ---602 11 Henri Tajfel psychology (1919-1982) Emmanuel Philosophy Levinas 596 --1,328 583 ---1,134 583 ---1,451 573 ---677 Roland Barthes (1915-1980) Criticism, philosophy Thomas S. Kuhn (1922-1996) History and philosophy of science 631 ---545 593 --403 583 --205 577 ---100 575 ---2,996 566---236 519---2,207 Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) Philosophy 501---75 Table 7: Trace for the 2007 Times Supplemental for Higher Education Rank Researcher Citations H-Index 1 (1) Michel Foucault 782097 242 2 (2) Pierre Bourdieu 574044 249 3 Jacques Derrida 242744 190 4 (4) Albert Bandura 451545 180 5 A. Giddens NCOH NC 6 (7) Erving Goffman 232339 87 7 J. Habermas NCOH NC 662 ---1,226 Emile Durkheim (1858-1917) Sociology 577 ---760 501---2,845 Karl Marx (1818-1883) Political theory, economics, sociology 526---366 Psychoanalysis, philosophy, criticism (1901-1981) Lacan Jacques (1926-2006) Geertz Clifford Anthropology Barney G. Glaser (1930- ) Sociology (1889-1951) Wittgenstein Ludwig Philosophy Benedict Anderson (1936- ) International studies John Dewey (1859-1952) Philosophy, psychology, education George Lakoff (1941- ) Linguistics Walter Benjamin (1892-1940) Criticism, philosophy Hannah Arendt (1906-1975) Political theory (1906-1995) Social 12 8 Max Weber NCOH NC 9 Judith Butler NCOH NC 10 Bruno Latour NCOH NC 11 (3) Sigmund Freud 482648 272 12 (8) Gilles Deleuze 216083 151 13 Immanuel Kant NCOH NC 14 M. Heidegger NCOH NC 15 (5) Noam Chomsky 337098 164 16 Ulrich Beck NCOH NC 17 Jean Piaget NCOH NC 18 (10) David Harvey 159706 102 19 (12) John Rawls 153304 81 20 (14) Geert Hofstede 145974 NC 21 Edward W. Said NCOH NC 22 (15) Emile Durkheim 143383 88 23 Roland Barthes NCOH NC 24 (9) Clifford Geertz 169354 98 25 (11) Hannah Arendt 158405 120 26 Walter Benjamin NCOH NC 27 Henri Tajfel NCOH NC 28 L. Wittgenstein NCOH NC 29 Barney Glaser NCOH NC 30 (13) George Lakoff 150561 NC 31 John Dewey NCOH NC 32 Bene. Anderson NCOH NC 33 E. Levinas NCOH NC 34 Jacques Lacan NCOH NC 35 Thomas Kuhn NCOH NC 36 (6) Karl Marx 271714 163 37 Fried. Nietzsche NCOH NC  The table was prepared to trace the original publication 2015 for degree-based research ranking on Art and Humanities in 2007. The data was collected within 2017 Webometrics top 1000 researchers based on total citations compiled through Google Scholar. The automatic reproduction of total citations only can be made when the e-mail account of each scholar was ascertained on the Google Scholar. The blank void of information, therefore, is the case otherwise (NCOH means "not confirmed and only hand on count/NC means "not confirmed"). The hand on count can well be feasible, but a slot of scholars was left blank since the trend on yearly citation is fairly consistent over the period. It also was thought that the hand count can make a time for pleasure on the audience side. Your guess can work to rank although it is never perfect, but is suggested if you are busy or tedious to ascertain. My original publication was based on the Web of Science, which covers the different scope of journals or differing nature of written scholarly pieces. The difference could have had a potential to radically discriminate against the scholars on both indicators, but is relatively coherent among another as Erving Goffman 6th originally and 7th on the Google Scholar. Since the purpose of table is to provide a trace for former publication in 2007 and 2015, the original rank had come first while the rank in parenthesis indicated the result of 2017 Google Scholar. Since a latter rank pertains to the original list, the scope was limited to the Art, Humanities, and Social Science on qualitative basis. Because the social science on the quantitative methodology had long entertained as a prosperous practice to cull the scientific knowledge, it is no surprise that Altman had a top list, as notably on highest ascending wave recent years. Given that common journal practice separates a category of those subjects from that Economics and Business, the rank needs to be received as excludes the group of economic scientists. Some profile of data for the group was elicited below.  The data for this edition was collected during the third week of August 2017 of a BETA list of the public 13 profiles of the Top 1000 cited researchers according to their declared presence in the Google Scholar Citations database. The list, that includes both living and deceased authors, is ranked first by the total number of citations.  Some of renowned economists: Joseph Stiglitz 245163/199, Paul Krugman 189878/146, Joseph Schumpeter 168631/86, Milton Friedman, 136173/101 14 Chapter 3 Barons toward the Welfare and Noble Rights – Master and Ph.D degree holders In this chapter, I will present three pieces of assessment on the graduate or research doctorate in other disciplines. The first part deals with the research doctorate in US, as usually called Ph.D in specific discipline or program, which was yielded by combining two times of NRC assessment and recent year of USNR graduate program ranking, hence 66% for NRC and 33 % for the latter rank. As said elsewhere, my rationale is that NRC is purely for doctorates so as to be doubled while the USNR presumably covers both masters and doctorates. The second part presents a ranking of US graduate schools to measure their potential and capability at greater extent, meaning as to the kind of present tense or mills of faculty performance. It would be compared to the first part as a post-deal strength on graduates. The third part is a bootstrap and stretch of US result onto the global context within the masters' level of graduate education. The KIOSK FOR DOCTORAL STUDIES IN US [1986-2018] A. 1996 NRC Assessment B. 2010 NRC Assessment C. US News Graduate Programs Ranking <Words of Reference to the Kiosk>  The range numbers in this kiosk replicated the sum of R-Rank and S-Rank from 2010 NRC report. The left ranking is highest possible ranking and the right one is lowest possible, which is in terms of statistically 5% rule. The average of both numbers is used to yield a comparison and final definite ranking among the institutions for 2010 NRC report, which rests with parenthesis.  Ranking for each program finally has been yielded by average number of 1996, 2010, and USNW ranking for the graduate programs. Hence the coverage in period is longitudinal possibly from 1986 (the first year from last 1985 NRC) through 2020 (the last year for ten year interval of NRC practice, but not surely for every turn). The ranking of USNW graduate programs are mostly yearly, or changed with the interval of about three years for Natural and Social Sciences. The USNW ranking mostly was based on 2017-2018 version (eventually to determine the period of effect for this KIOSK), but in rare case, might be adjusted to avoid a sharp precariousness or in consideration of promotional equity.  The Kiosk is designed to reveal the compiled rankings of leading institution that is not exhaustive to include all of doctoral programs. I have, nevertheless, list major follow-up institutions from the 2010 NRC report.  As we see, the global rankings produce a scope of subject rankings beside overall university rankings, which is variable to the schema of each ranking agency. Their scope was tabulated below, and the basic characteristics of those rankings have drawn on the publication and citations or awards and teaching competence of faculty. It also differs from USNW college ranking that resides squarely with the quality of both faculty and student largely being purported to rank overall strength of undergraduate element within the institution. Global rankings are closer to assess the graduate strengths of institution than USNW college ranking, but are less rigorous because the subjects may be too broad, or neither comprehensive nor accurate to cover the specific programs. According to Moase, USNW chief data strategist, the subject is neither college, department nor program, meaning that it mainly relates with the academic journals, Clarivate or Scopus and books or articles produced within the period of each ranking purpose by the institutions. Instead, USNW uses the name of program, of course more specifically graduate program, for their ranking purpose and Deans or Department chairs are specifically made to contact to survey the quality and competence of each graduate institution. While 1996 NRC was conducted with the 41 areas, they played within the title 'area' or 'field.' 2010 NRC reported each doctoral program as titled by each institution along with 62 fields classified by NRC in advance and abstraction. Therefore, 2010 NRC should be most corporate while 1996 NRC and USNW are mediumcorporal and the global rankings are more paper-based than substantial or corporal.  The information is best to the knowledge and conscience of this KIOSK designer, but may include inaccurate or false information as humanly. Please do not hesitate to contact me if error is found or one likes to suggest. 15 -  / may appear two or three times at the cell within the rank box. It denotes the rank of 1996 NRC, 2010 NRC and USNW ranking of graduate programs in order. The ranks with two / often denote those of 1996 and 2010 NRC reports in order. Nevertheless, in some cases, one may be either of NRC reports and the other was that of USNW graduate ranking. ND or NA refers to Not Available or No Data, meaning that no specific rank or rank range is available for that institution.  The number in the hard parenthesis [ ] is a ranking yielded from the average of three sources.  I believe that the collective ranking for the graduate or doctoral programs, such as Gourman, is less contributive or create controversy and criticism than the general university or college ranking. The graduate degree, especially PhD degrees, would be some kind of lifetime asset for the degree recipients that may capitalize on their career life. Hence, it can be more specific and destined as similar with the property rights. In some cases, the element of degree, for example, damages for the loss or injury of degree recipient, may matter that the courts typically use a word, "degree or license." Therefore, it realistically can be the kind of economic item although its major characteristics would be intellectual or social. It is thought that the collective ranking for graduate programsmore than unpleasant with research doctorates-would not be acclaim practice for the IREG or quasi-IREG professionals (other main job and interested work in the meantime). In this context, schools' practice to count the number of each higher ranking (top, fifth or tenth, and rated) in the NRC report could be understandable even if eager statisticians might strive to yield more refined picture. Nevertheless, the kind of hut to enshroud humble elements could help the audience to begin their reference in need so that I provided an overall ranking with the "breadth (50%) and top (first and second ranks for each institution)" principle inferred from the presentation by Dr. Newton surrounding the 1996 studies. I hope that it could be helpful for the journey through this Kiosk, the kind of fiasco blaring many of good hands to build the marvelous civilization over history and space. I have produced another piece elsewhere, which assessed the quality of graduate schools in US. I hoped it to alter or complement with the traditional Gourman report, which aimed to address its vicissitude or criticisms. In that piece, I considered that ranking partially as a variable to yield the final ranking, and presented others to represent overall strengths of graduate studies for each institution.  As you see in a Linguistic case with the college of Social Science, categorization can variegate the outcome of ranking which is due to the wisdom of rankers on one hand, but also the transformation of science on the other. Therefore, the rankers need to take a care, which could support an argument that the collective ranking can potentially mislead or crumble with the mind of each doctoral degree holder. Then, some readers might criticize that I am also opaque between the graduate and doctoral programs. Does the title, graduate programs, include the masters along with doctors? That may be seen as a psychiatric question, too sensitive and less persuasive. However, the rankers do not pass or are even keen to sift and winnow on their job of classification. For example, the methodology of US graduate programs ranking specifically denotes that this is for masters only or graduate degree as a whole, and JDs or MBAs. This faith can foreclose at the ranking stage that there is no department for such name on the list or so. This problem needs to be distinguished from the source of subject rankings, mostly global as I commented earlier, that it is wholly from the journal or book categories, not directed to specific colleges and departments or programs. So the professors of psychology may contribute to law journals in terms of journal classification that was traced often automatically and with the system (needs to be clear so as not to be lost about his or her affiliated institutions) and considered to generate the ranking of law subject according to five year principle to aid with the scholarly competition. One more example needs to be remarked surrounding such classifications that nomenclature is a thread not only for rankers, but vastly represents the transformation of scientific and intelligent world. As you see in the face page of USNW, the main category of graduate ranking shingles out five or six professional schools along with Social and Natural Sciences at the corner of page. Other space was spent to life and health disciplines as well as other disciplines on less public highlight, such as library science or fine arts and so. This corroborates our secular knowledge that philosophy began to phase into a number of branches as a node of thinking in early of 20 century. This would be common within our two leading continents at that time, but more salient in new continent. I have once benchmarked various sections of NY Times Science page in which experts in their field pen on their interested topic shared with the newspaper subscribers. Now and days, the science governs a behavior and thought of civilians. Food is publicly regulated, and tobacco is sanctioned to frustrate avid smokers as a law. A constitutional shield is not available for the smokers that implanted an imagery of criminality. A past imagery of social groove on the wealth and prestige became quite opposite for them, who look even miserable with no support from the right to happiness argument, say, final, philanthropic or philosophical, but least shelter for the marginal people, what we often know, discrete and insular minority. The tendency is more than 16 transformative in US, and titles of notable graduate schools, taught-based than research-based, embarked their business that had attained public attention and preference or loving. In this thought, the streamlines on the first page of US News on graduate ranking is not surprising, but accurately reflect the reality of science and knowledge world. It is, therefore, natural that US only publishes the title of report around the world, only country of sexy and colored bones. The academy and IREG or Quasi-IREG are mutual and symbiotic although criticisms are no less echoing with accusation that the academy should remain sacred and quasi-religious with their earnest commission to educate through universal needs. A small school or college, under-disclosed for their greatness, may be taunted to that context. In other cases, undergraduates or alumni of small colleges around the same range of SAT scores to those of big research or global universities may outrightly spell out the schema of global or research ranking, reject its presence, and may be afraid if his or her reputation could be spoiled.  Despite criticisms against 2010 NRC, it disposed the strengths that no definite ranking is persuasive to explain each doctoral program in terms of quality. It is also very informative that the real programs within each college and university was incorporated into the rankings of program with their real title along with the title of broad field, abstract and academic in general. The practice differs from other rankings, such as 1996 NRC report and USNW graduate programs ranking. I once pointed out that global ranking entails the elements of graduate ranking, but is neither perfect nor exhaustive than specific graduate rankings. Without such perfect or exhaustive ranking, foreign students have no way but to consult them when they need to decide which school they should go. Notably, QS world university ranking provides a good guide for both graduate and undergraduate students planned with the foreign destinations for their study. I like statistics, but, in fact, am fairly ignorant of its deep knowledge. Additionally, my propensity is fatal with human subject in the end that prefers to envision with them about the identity of various ranking projects. Therefore, we have types of those desiderata to be wanted by students or investors. The undergraduate, master and doctors would stand in the first type, as you see in global rankings while the masters or doctors would stand in second type with the USNW graduate ranking. The research doctors, as distinct from professional doctors in terms of designation, would stand in third type, say, in each slot of their fields before NRC 2010 report. The 2010 NRC report enabled that they can stand in the specific programs of his or her university. Therefore, we can verify if I should stand in the social policy program of Harvard or sociology program of Harvard in the slot of abstract category within "Sociology" title. That is same about the economics discipline that Stanford was ranked with two programs, economic statistics and analysis program as well as the general economics program. It is noted most extensively in the ranking slot entitled Public Health. Harvard reported seven or eight programs in this slot as if it were to be implied that the final goal of researchers or science would be public health in this contemporary world of oxymoron. It may diminish the easiness of comparison, but should be no less imperative that we need to include the Nutrition program of UW-Madison in Agricultural Sciences while same name program is more inclined to the character of Public Health for Harvard case. Therefore, nomenclature is not purely the problem of shingling, but can have implications of program content or characteristics although individual degree awardee may be more pleasant if it is ranked in other slots. Of course, non-existing programs cannot be incorporated as a matter of methodology so that schools with no research doctoral programs cannot appear within the ranking slots. For this reason, UW-Madison or UC-Berkeley may have no ranks in the public policy and administration while U Michigan will be placed at eighth. That came in comparison with the ranking of USNW public policy graduate program since the latter incorporates master programs of public policy, often large in the number of included institutions and known as MPA. Along with the ranking of other professional schools, such as law school, medical school, and business school, it seems a practice that addresses the need of prospective elite workers in that specific field. Therefore, the scope and manner to deal with graduate students in USNW – nuanced as if graduate students are a unique recipient of those rankings while taste with the words, 'subject ranking' is abstract open to all students or professors and even unrelated persons in general are more diverse and commercialized with popular demand than NRC. Nevertheless, the implication in this pattern of deal is no less significant involving new perception and transformation of academia or science world.  Between the USNW and NRC report, we may head if masters can refer to USNW math or economics graduate program ranking because a person of researcher can learn in one institution and another through his five to ten years of graduate study, for example, graduate students in the economics or political science department of several institutions. We cannot reject that litany without any perfect evidence since the Ipso questionnaires are not available. According to the USNW methodology, two set of questionnaires are sent to the department head or director of graduate studies and college deans. One seems like to serve the whole of graduate programs and others would be specific for doctoral 17 programs. In any way, we humanely have no cause to suppress the wishes of master student seeking his or her personal use of USNW graduate ranking. In this viewpoint, it is true, as generally assumed, that NRC reports are more exhaustive and specific in terms of three sources of reference studied to generate this KIOSK. Other characteristics of USNW is that it is a yearly fare while NRC is planned with ten years interval. The controversy or disagreement would be more intense and data collection process might require a more extended years than expected. In any case, it can well procrastinate as you see the bridge years between two last reports. The KIOSK is given a weight to NRC reports if the category arises from that model, and some adjustment may be made with the USNW over years' record although the ranks mostly replicate those of 2017-2018 USNW report. In the event, I used all of three sources as combined to produce a final ranking because my intention is to trace the doctoral programs not only historically, but rigorously. Although NRC is more traumatic with method and inter-relational struggle to argue their strength of doctoral programs, reference to USNW also reinforces the history of departments or programs that would support the rigor of this research scheme. Such elaboration fuels the findings that the existing structure surrounding leading institutions in each program and faculty can be more durable and reinforced to shade short time amenities or pass time of ranking manias. The problem is obvious, however, since the US rank was about the sample year, mostly 2017-2018 . Some readers may well think that it needs to represent an average of ten years to comply with the NRC schema. Others may suggest that the sample year approach can be acceptable with a same rationale of general practice within the social science research. Some others may also suppose that yearly renewal with an average from the beginning year of KIOSK , say, 2017 thereafter , average of 2017/2018 for the 2018 KIOSK, average of three years in 2019, and so on may suffice. Since I have many responsibilities and may only be feasible to revisit KIOSK for update years or decade hereafter , the last choice would be unwise and, more importantly , least persuasive among the three options . The rest of readers may also prefer to be consistent only with the historical monitor of NRCs. A divergence or even disagreement can well be conceived , but the KIOSK 2018 is certain to provide the data of three sources at verbatim at this point of time. As hinted, construction to the whole rank, compared to that of each program, would be more problematic because it is stiffer or more physical rather than chemical intuitively. My thought is that it could be multiplied according to the approach of institutions , while the highlight is put to each program or college at large. Given the rank of doctoral programs , the maxim seems that "small" will prevail "large." Then, the KIOSK is a product possibly among the tremendous number of versions on doctoral assessment. Therefore, I suggest that the use of KIOSK is caveat emptor and it can well be read in the cause and stance of each reader. For example, the researchers may waive the factors of USNW in future if he likes to know a specific or destined profile of research doctoral programs.  Through the KIOSK, the readers meander down-most with the typology of global university rankings beginning from the US News college ranking or similar sources of general college ranking, such as Gourman or Kiplinger, Fiske and others. With the journey, bachelors may turn to feel that they are more than 'political' with the kinds of US News or that they may be more book or article-oriented, hence 'scholarly,' within the global authorities or Niche. As said, what does subject imply, the question which propels us to imagine not a person, but intellectual symbols that the uneducated persons even can make to themselves. A title named 'subject' commonly assumed by the global rankers and uniquely by Niche.com in US could be referred to the people at large because they are mainly from the quality of faculty resources through the regular degree programs, those of community extension, and their public activities. As said, US News graduate ranking largely covers various master and doctoral programs, which comes with a comparison of NRC, if purely with the PhDs in latter case. In this purview, the audience of KIOSK may be felicitous with the legal doctrine "lex specialis overrides a law governing only general matters lex generalis" through the three types of source. The contemporary peers and citizens are the kind of beneficiary, despite the many on dislike, who can refer to a variety of ranking services that are commercial or strategic in cases as well as educational or informative in others. Once I argued on the post-modern livability to understand evaluation or reflexivity for researchers and teachers. Within the super-intensity of e-communication or satellite mapping on planet, one can be a subject of restoration or critiquing toward his or her identity through community that 'general' could be challenged. One law school dean advised, "law students or graduates now just may take his or her due share on his admission data if he or she is lost from the public ranking scheme." Now it is time of data, which supports each ranking scheme and may be publicly disclosed according to the policy of rankers.  I had yielded an experimental rank for the institutions investigated over time, which is fairly radical and sharp or seems restored with the Lincoln-ian feel, centered at the Land and balanced to save the unity of nation. This enables that other scale of ranking scheme can bring a different outcome, for example, fifth, tenth, fifteenth and twentieth ranges or so. Therefore, too much weight with mind and psychological attachment is not a scene I like to share with the readers. You may be adjusted, for example, between Minnesota and Cal Tech or UC-San Diego through the journey, which may be more adventurous than other scale of rankings. Hence, I adverted on that difference below overall rank box. In other aspect, the KIOSK overall ranking arose from the similar context which we found in Moase's global tour presentation in Denmark and Shanghai years ago. Number of top programs along with other two scaled overall rankings was typified. The KIOSK overall rankings might be in tandem with the Moase's latter type, i.e., number of most rated programs, which is structural, basis of rating project, or can facilitate the readers to grasp. The difference, of course, lies within the specifics, in which the programs have to come within top hundred in US case while they have more than five doctoral students and demonstrate a fit for the national research paradigm in the NRC or KIOSK.  My intention is to consider the service of universities to respond with the diversity of prospective doctoral students, whose right to choose their programs is precious than assessment of each specific program's quality. The discriminating standard between ranked and unranked programs is so primitive, as said, involving five doctoral students and fitness. However, it indicates the diversity of programs as well as success for their operation. Most of all, it offers a threshold for this business and implicates between the basic element of doctoral studies or production of good research student hence educational in character – and simple rank order arguably from quality assessment – hence romantic in character for the interested people. Additionally, the KIOSK was designed to bring the kind of sky-view tower into use allowing the peers or interested people to feel the valuable research workers in each specific program notwithstanding his or her institutional affiliation overall. In this vein, it may be encouraged to draw as many possible pictures for the overall rank in order to inculcate knowing the doctoral world.  Through 2010 NRC, the public universities had fared well, notably Penn State for example, which implies that the traditional sense of American academy keeps to be vindicated. However, it still also would be a good proposition that the kind of superb private institutions, such as Harvard, Stanford or MIT, can well top even the graduate programs as seen below. The prime strand attributed to those institutions, such as SAT or TOEFL likely reinforces their pride through graduate context (if GRE confidential for the face of professors or researchers) to become highly productive and enables to fare as top or leading institutions. Those institutions, on the other hand, certainly would be the kind of publication Giant with a high productivity in terms of amount and citations on books and articles. The context of undergraduate education, however, may sharply depart between the small colleges and big public universities in US provided that a SAT score of many small colleges well compete with the superior graduate public universities. Although the imagery and conventional sense for the undergraduates tilt on private universities as meritorious, that does not exactly replicate with the doctoral or graduate rankings. This is possibly because the scholarly community is fairly contagious and susceptible of liberal paradigm with high mobility of scholars. While the rankers often ground their basis of work on number, the kind of numerical analysis and quantitative approach, we need to know that it finally addresses the interest holders or so. It entails a social, political, cultural and philosophical element to reach the human agent. So diversity can be considered beyond the number in some cases. Diversity also can make a good for the community in terms of balance and informatization, so that we can enjoy UNC as a top public university in Kiplinger while we receive UC-Berkeley and UCLA as top public universities in USNW. If it highly depends on the scale, perception or purpose of rankers, you may encounter some list of possible forerunners with respect to such difference.  Most importantly, the KISOK is intended to develop into the book or article form, hence, the publication at this time is aimed to draw on the report of possibly numerous errors, comments and suggestions so as to improve this product. The kind of notice and comment period is my purpose that I am seriously waiting for the kind of assistance and even criticism. The KIOSK is not comprehensive to cover all institutions, rather focused on the profile of leading institutions, but could help to locate the status of other institutions with the links at the end of this KIOSK for extended reference. Additional links with my previous studies will be found about the background for this project. <Model I: Average Table from the Two Exercises Below> Ranks Institution First Table Second Table Average Table 1 UW-Madison 2 1 1.5 2 Stanford 1 3 2 3 Michigan 4 18 3 3.5 Harvard 6 2 4 5 MIT 3 8 5.5 6 Princeton 8 4 6 6 UC-Berkeley 6 6 6 6 Yale 5 7 6  Unranked institutions including Cal Tech, U Chicago, Columbia, UCSF, Minnesota, and Penn State, UCLA can possibly range 5-20th place in terms of breadth and depth according to the characterization of Newton in 1996 studies.  Within the different scale, Duke, Johns Hopkins, U Penn, UC-San Diego, NYU, Northwestern, Washington U (St. Louis), U Pittsburg can possibly enter the 5-22th place.  Within the different scale above , Cornell , U Texas , UNC, NYU, U Washington (Seattle ), Ohio State, U Illinois ( Urbana), Purdue, Indiana (Bloomington ), SUNY (Buffalo), UC-Davis, Brown, U Iowa, Rutgers, Rochester, U Virginia, Case Western, U. Kansas, U. Utah, UC-Irvine, Tulane and some others can come within 12-40th  Other institutions, such as Vanderbilt, Georgia Tech, Rice and Carnegie Mellon, Brandeis, Rensselaer (NY), Notre Dame may not have a top spot in this formula , but are very robust and strong that can possibly fall within top thirty in other yardstick overall or pertaining to some specific programs. <1996 NRC + US News Education/Other 1> Ranks Institution Rated Programs Top Grade 1st /2nd 1 Stanford 40 (50) 7/2 (1/0 USNW) (49) 2 Wisconsin 38 (45) 4/3 (4/1 USNW ) (46) 3 MIT 23 (37) 6/7 (52*) Michigan 38 (45) 2/4 (1/3 USNW ) (44) Yale 30 (39) 6/1 (48) 6 Harvard 30 (39) 5/3 (0/1) (48) 6 UC-Berkeley 36 (40) 2/8 (0/1) (47) 8 Princeton 29 (38) 2/4 (44) Unranked UCLA 37 1/1 Unranked Minnesota 37 1/0 Unranked Penn State 36 1/0 Unranked Columbia 34 1/1 19 6 3 4 Unranked Pittsburg 34 0/1 Unranked Duke 33 0/1 Unranked Chicago 30 2/2 Unranked Northwestern 30 0/1 Unranked UC San Diego 29 2/0 Unranked NYU 25 0/1 Unranked Georgia Tech 1/0 Unranked Rockefeller 0/1 Unranked Cal Tech 3/1 Unranked Cal San Francisco 1/1 <2010 NRC + US News Education/Other 1> Ranks Institution Rated Programs (Breadth) Number of programs marked 1st in both S/R rank + US News (Education 1st/2nd ) + US News Other uncovered 1st/2nd) 1 UW-Madison 78 points) (50 8 (3 + 5) (45 points) 2 Harvard 52 points) (36 14 (13 +1) (50 points) 3 Stanford 49 points) (35 9 (8 +1) (46 points) 4 Princeton 48 points) (raw 34) (34 6 (40 points) 4 U Michigan 65 points) (41 4 (33 points) 6 UC-Berkeley 52 36 points) ( 5 (36 points) 7 Yale 48 (raw 34 points) 34) ( 4 (33 points) 8 MIT 52 (raw 36 points) 29) ( 3 (30 points)  I included 1st and 2nd spot in the USNW because the programs marked 1st in both ranks of NRC often, if not always, fall within 1st and 2nd for each specific ranking. USNW had been monitored since 1990 and sample year plus adjustment made (1982Present): education & other NRC uncovered subjects as the table 'Other 1' shows below. BSchool, Law School, Nursing School, and Medical School are not included for they are MBA/JD/MD focusedhence, taught based mainly. Same through the end of this ranking textbook.  As a system along with the research quality, UC-Santa Barbara and UC-San Diego can be seen typical to report small number of rated programs with one or two top rank programs, for example, material engineering and Oceanography in 2010 NRC ranking. The turnout might be received as a kind of strategy of UC system to grow their local campuses. <Model II: Big Eyes with the Combined Ranks> 20 Ranks Institution Breadth/Availability (Rated Programs) Number of Top Programs (1st/2nd) 1 UW-Madison 48 points 6/1 2 Harvard 40 points 7/13 2 Stanford 40 points 4 U Michigan 46 points 3/4 4 UC-Berkeley 40 points 6/10 6 Princeton 36 points 6/4 6 MIT 35 points 6/6 8 Yale 37 points 4/2  Within my scale, Minnesota, Cal Tech, UCLA, Penn State, Michigan State U Possibly around 6-14th places in terms of breadth and depth according to the characterization of Newton in 1996 studies..  Within the different scale, U Chicago, U Penn, UCSF, Columbia, Duke, Northwestern, UC-San Diego, Washington University (Saint Louis), Johns Hopkins University possibly can enter around 6 to 13th places overall.  Within the different scale above, Cornell, U Texas, UNC, NYU, U Washington (Seattle), Ohio State, U Illinois, Purdue , U. Pittsburg , SUNY (Buffalo ), Indiana (Bloomington ), UC-Davis , Brown, U Iowa, Rutgers , Rochester , U Virginia, Case Western, U. Kansas, U. Utah, UC-Irvine, Tulane and some others can come within 15-40th  Other institutions , such as Vanderbilt , Georgia Tech , Rice , Carnegie Mellon , Brandeis , Rensselaer (NY), Notre Dame may not have a top spot in this formula , but are very robust and strong that can possibly fall within the top 30th in other yardstick overall or pertaining to some specific programs. <Number of Programs with 1st or second in ranks for each Faculty and programs> Facult Y Yale Stanfo rd Harva rd U. Michigan MIT Prince ton UCBerkeley UWMadison st 2 Nd 1 st 2 nd 1 st 2 nd 1 st 2 nd 1 st 2 nd 1 st 2 nd 1 st 2 nd 1 st 2 nd Educat ion 1 1 3 3 0 Social Science 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Engine ering 2 2 3 2 1 2 Art & Humaniti Es 2 4 2 2 Healt h Scienc Es 1 1 Life Sciences 2 1 2 1 Natur al Sciences 2 1 2 2 2 1 5 Agricu ltural Sciences 1 1 3 2 1 1 2 4 2 4 3 3 3 9/10 42 points 49 points 49 points 41 points 47 points 44 points 45 points 41 points 1 0 1 22 Other 1 1 1 1 1 Total 4 2 9 1 0 3 4 6 6 6 1 0 6 1 <Number of Research Doctoral Programs> 1 3 5 57 23 Authority NRC (KIOSK on 2010 categories) US News (Outside NRC) Total in Coverage Number 59 (2010) /40 (1996) 13 (rank-based on US News /4~8 (program-based on each university) 63~67  Recently, US News began to report the Nursing graduate programs with two classifications (master level and DNP). The DNP program was not taken into account since it newly appeared in near years to want us to wait for its progress or change. The character also seems moderate between the practice doctors and research ones given the KIOSK with a focus on research doctorates. Of course, the shingles of upper US portion, i.e., law school, medical school, business school, were not included since they produce the different mode of doctors, mainly, taught-based or because the ranking scheme is skewed to cover MBAs, JDs, or MDs, other than research-based programs or doctors. The engineering and education programs differ so as to be incorporated into the KIOSK in consideration of US News data.  As seen above, the data readily available with KIOSK (without clicking the sources linked at the bottom of it) would project the scene of top two spots within the sorted PhD programs that are destined to the leading institutions. A whole picture of research doctorates in classification and ranks may largely resemble the Gourman Report, which, however, was critiqued for opaqueness of methodology and big-universities oriented. The other side of coin, as an account of half scores concerning the overall rank above, may complicate a scene with the frequency as rated, which, I consider, to reflect the educational or diversity aspect of doctoral education than the traditional measure on qualityoriented struggle. That was noted as basic than romantic above. The approach epitomes as more radical than Gourman, and for reasons as stated. Hence, the KIOSK could be a kind of alternative to Gourman along with one other piece separately produced besides KIOSK. On the other hand, I may not be exhaustive to uncover some rest of top programs, which would be outside the box above presented. Those can be confirmed through each college slot below, in red of parenthesis. Some may still be lost, for example, UCLA with Applied Math [1] 4-18 (2010 NRC)/2 or possibly others (US News), which, however, needs to require patience for the observation over a long period of time or new method of dealing the US News ranks , such as average of ten or more than years . This may be true in other determined cases of this KIOSK since it largely relies on 2017-2018 US News or above rank of UCLA in Applied Math may stand to be counted for the purpose of this KIOSK depending on its 2017-2018 rank. [A] [Social and Behavioral Sciences] Rank (1996 categ ory: Lingu isticsart and huma nities) Rank (2010 catego ry : Lingui sticsSocial Scienc es Instit ution Agric ultura l & Reso urce Econ omics Anthro pology Econ omic s Geog raphy Ling uistic s Politi cal Scien ce Psy cho log y Public Policy & Admini stration Soci olog y 7( 16 (sum)/ 6 (progr ams) [1] Harva 1/421/1 1/36/2 11-31 7/2sum / rd 11 4 -62 6 -10 (6) 3 5 5/4-11 (2 )/1 (15 ) (1 )/1 (1)/ (1)/ (prog (1) [2] [ 1] [9] [ 1] 3 1 rams) [1] [2 ] [1] 39 39 Princ 27/645 7/14 1 2-8 1 / 5 [6] /5 [6] eton 138 (29) / (11) (4)/ 27 23 [ 19] (44)/ 49 [ 33] /36 [25 ] [ 15] 95 95 7 50/ 1 3 N 1 7 2 /7 [ /7 [ 1500/28 /46A/53 3/45 /30 4/54 13] 13] 162 -52 80 -78 -74 -98 -117( 49) [22 ] (17)/ 16 [ 13] ( 19) [ 9] (32) (20)/ 24 [ 16] (20) /8 [ 9] (32 ) /17 [ 20]  Anthropology: Penn State 7-20 (3) U of Arizona 11-31 (4) UC-Irvine 13-46 (7) Emory 17-45 (10) Indiana U at Bloomington 36-81 U (16) Georgia 34-91 (18) UC-Santa Barbara 34-91 (18) SUNY (Binghamton) 32-96 (20). *U Michigan UC-Berkeley/San Francisco Duke two programs (higher ranks included & the other excluded from total ranks)  Economics : Cal Tech 20-35 (10) Brown 26-44 (13) U Maryland 23-48 (15) Washington U (St Louis) 34-53 (17) Carnegie Mellon 47-85 (20) Penn State 51-84 (24) 54-90 U Pittsburg (25) U Rochester 54-90 (27) * Stanford 2 programs Harvard 3 programs (higher ranks included & the others excluded from total ranks)  Geography : Boston U 4-25 (3) Clark U 8-29 (4) [5] U Maryland 9-44 (5) University of Illinois-UC 11-40 (6) Ohio State 12-40 (7 tied) [4] Penn State 14-45 (9) [2] U of Oregon 14-56 (10) U Kentucky 15-58 (11) U of Washington 27 20-53 (12)  Linguistics : Johns Hopkins 2-15 (1) San Diego State & U San Diego 6-31 (4) University of Massachusetts 10-36 (8) U Maryland 11-36 (9) USC 18-50 (11) Indiana U at Bloomington 23-57 (16) U of Delaware 22-61 (17) U Colorado at Boulder 22-69 (18) University of Arizona 32-61 (20) UCLA other program (potentially 20 not included for ranking purpose)  Psychology : Carnegie Mellon 7-56 (10) U Colorado at Boulder 14-66 (13) U Rochester 13-74 (14) Brown 1786 (17) Indiana U at Bloomington (18) Vanderbilt University 32-100 (21) Washington U at St Louis 35-98 (22) Syracuse University 33-113 (24) SUNY at stony Brook 36-116 (25) U of Iowa 34-119 (26) Dartmouth 38-125 (28) U of Florida 37-127 (29) Penn State 35-130 (30) Ohio State 39-150 (31) U of Arizona 52-126 (32) Michigan State 50-129 (33) Arizona State 53-134 (36) Florida State U 45-151 (37) Temple University 77-152 (46) * A considerable numbers of universities have two or more than two programs on the list (As same with other cases, higher ranked program included and others excluded for ranking purpose)  Sociology: U Arizona 27-54 (14) Penn State 20-65 (15) U Miami 21-84 (17) Rutgers 33-74 (18) Ohio State 3177 19 (19) Indiana U at Bloomington 42-85 (20) U Iowa 38-92 (22) UCSF 24-115 (25) U Nebraska 41-102 (27) Brown University 42-116 (29) U Maryland 55-111 (31) UC-Santa Barbara 56-114 (31)  Public Affairs: Indiana U at Bloomington 5-17 (2) Carnegie Mellon 5-19 (3) Syracuse 8-25 (4) USC 12-25 (5) U Kentucky 16-37 (9) Georgia Institute of Technology 16-41 (10) Johns Hopkins 15-46 (12) U Georgia 22-49 (14) SUNY at Albany 33-58 (17) [B] [Engineering] Ran ks Institu tion Aerospace Biomedi cal Chem ical Civil & Environm ental Electri cal & Comp uter Materi al Scienc e Mecha nical Industrial Total 1 MIT 2/9-24 (6)/1 [3] 1/418 (4)/1 [1] 2/ 4-14 ( 4)/1 [ 1] 1/940 (3)/ 7 [3] 2/ 1131 (7)/ 1 [2] 1/5 -20 (3) /1 [1] 2/8 22 (5)/1 [2] 5/39 (2)/NA [3] 16 (sum)/ 8 (progra ms) 2 UCBerkel ey NA/N A/NA 8/512 (3)/6 [3] 3/ 5-12 ( 3)/2 [ 2] 2/416 (1)/1 [1] 4/ 9-28 ( 6)/3 [ 3] 4/8 -23 ( 5)/5 [4] 3/6 17 (4)/3 [3] 3/419( 4)/2 [2] 18/7 Stanfo rd 3/3-6 (2)/2 [2] 12/N A/3 [4] 7/ 11-35 (7)/ 4 [4] 3/626 (2)/ 4 [2] 1/ 24(1 )/2 [1 ] 6/1 0-33 (8 )/4 [5] 1/4 11 (1)/1 [1] 7/2-8 (1)/7 [4] 23/8 4 Cal Tech 1/2-4 (1)/4 [1] NA/ (2-9) 1/NA 6/ (2-5) 1/2 [ 3] 5/1971 (12) /NA [7] 5/ 4/4 [ 3] 12/ 2/5 [6] 4/2 0-94 ( 14)/4 [ 8] NA/N A/NA 28/6  Aerospace Engineering : Cal Tech 2-4 (1) University of Michigan 5-14 (3) U of Colorado at Boulder 9-19 (4) University of Minnesota-Twin Cities 8-23 (5) Georgia Institute of Technology 13-35 (7)  Biomedical Engineering : Cal Tech 2-9 (1) UC-San Diego 2/3-11 (2)/3 [2] U of Washington 4-22 (5) Duke 738 (6) U of Michigan (6) Yale (8) Rice (9) Johns Hopkins13-47  Chemical Engineering : Cal Tech 2-5 (1) UT-Austin 3-12 (2) UC-Santa Barbara 5-13 (4) U of Minnesota-Twin Cities 8-29 (6) U of Wisconsin-Madison 11-42 (8) U of Illinois-UC 14-43 (9) Northwestern 12-46 (10) Carnegie Melon 13-45 (10)  Civil & Environmental Engineering : Yale R-rank 23-91/S-rank 1-2 (Corrected R-rank 7-43 /S-rank 1-1)  Electrical & Computer Engineering: Princeton 3-10 (2) Harvard 3-15 (3) Cal Tech 7-21 (4) U of Illinois-UC 3 8-26 (5) U of Michigan 12-32 (8) UCLA 12-37 (9) Georgia Institute of Technology (10)  Material Sciences : UC-Santa Barbara 2-3 (1) Cal Tech 4-11 (2) U of Massachusetts 6-21 (4) Northwestern 830 (6) Penn State 8-36 (7) Stanford University 10-33 (8) University of Illinois-UC 9-34 (8) U of Florida 10-41 (10)  Material Sciences (Combined: 1996 NRC + 2010 NRC/Same as below) : Northwestern 2/6/2 [2] UC-Santa Barbara 8/1/3 [3] Cal Tech 12/2/5 [6]  Mechanical Engineering : Northwestern 5-11 (2) U of Michigan 5-17 (3) Brown 6-28 (6) UC-Santa Barbara 12-30 (7)  Industrial Engineering : Georgia Institute of Technology 2-10 (2) Northwestern 5-21 (5) Carnegie Mellon 727 (6) Cornell 10-31 (7) U of Michigan 13-35 (8) Purdue 14-46 (9) Penn State (9) U of Iowa (11) UW-Madison (12) U of Penn 22-56 (13) Ohio State 18-64 (14) Virginia Polytech 23-65(15)  Industrial Engineering: GIT 1/2/1 [1] [C] [Art & Humanities] AS C lassi cs C om Lit E nglis h F renc h G erma n H istor y A rtHist (6)/ 1 [4] 1 4/N D [4 ] 6/ 15 -42 (9) [5] 1 9/N D 1 7/2 1 -66 ( 14 ) [11] 2 42/ 10 28 -  Classics : Columbia 2-19 (2) U Penn 6-26 (5)  Comp. Lit. : U. Maryland 3-15 (1) Duke 9-31(6) NYU 5-38 (7) Yale 7/37 (8 tied) U. Penn 8-37 (10)  Comp. Lit (Combined): Duke 2/6 [1] Yale 1/8 [2] * Columbia 3/No data  English Language : Columbia 6-22 (4) Yale 7-33 (5) Cornell 10-42 (6) U of Michigan 12-43 (7) U of Chicago 12-48 (8) U of Pennsylvania 14-50 (9) Vanderbilt 13-53 (10) Duke 14-58 (11) UW-Madison 17-61 (12) CUNY 22-67 (14) Brown 22-69 (15)  English Language (Combined) : Stanford 5/3/3 [2] Yale 1/5/8 [4] Columbia 9/3/3 [5] Cornell 7/5/6 [7] U Penn 8/8/3 [8]  French Language : Duke 2-13 (1) U Penn 5-16 (2) U Michigan 6-21 (4) Vanderbilt 9-36 (7) Yale 13-31 (8) U of Wisconsin 13-35 (9) Johns Hopkins 13-40 (10) Indiana U at Bloomington 20-42 (11) Penn State 15-48 (12) Cornell 18-47 (13) NYU 21-48 (15) Brown 25-52 (16) Columbia 24-54(17) 5 /227 ( 4) [ 2] 4 /826 ( 5)/ [2] 32(su m)/1 2(pro gram) 41/ 11 1 2 3 4 29 -  French Language (Combined): Duke 3/1 [1] U Penn 5/2 [2] Yale 1/8 [5] U of Michigan 9/4 [6] U Wisconsin 11/9 [7] Cornell 8/13 [8]  German Language : U of Minnesota 4-24 (1) U of Chicago 5-21 (2) Indiana University at Bloomington 6-33 (4) Harvard 7-34 (5) Washington University in St Louis 10-35 (6) NYU 11-35 (7) UT-Austin 10-39 (8) UNC 12-38 (9) Stanford 13-39 (10) Princeton 12-42 (11) Ohio State 12-44 (12) Cornell 18-38 (12) U of Michigan 14-43 (14) UCLA 1542 (14) U Wisconsin-Madison 24-38 (16) Yale 22-46 (17)  German Language (Combined) : U of Minnesota 11/1 [2] Washington University in St. Louis 7/6 [4 tied]  History : Princeton 2-10 (1) Harvard 2-12 (2) U of Chicago 4-17 (3) Princeton (History of Science) 4-20 (4) Johns Hopkins 7-22 (5) Stanford 11-28 (6) Columbia 11-31 (7) Yale (Medieval studies) 11-32 (8) U Penn 13-31 (9) UCBerkeley 15-38 (10) UNC 19-37 (11) Harvard (History of Science) 18-38 (11) U Michigan 18-40 (13) Yale 19-40 (14) Rutgers 22-45 (15)  Music : Indiana University at Bloomington 2-12 (1) 6-22 (5) Harvard 4-11 (2) UCLA 4-11 (3) 7-23 (6) U of Chicago 5-16 (4) Yale 8-25 (7) Princeton 8-28 (8) Columbia 15-26 (9) NYU 10-40 (10) Cornell 14-45 (11) U of Rochester 18-43 (12) UC-Berkeley 17-51 (14) U Penn 20-49 (14)  Music (Combined) : U of Chicago 2/4 [2] Yale 5/7[3]  Philosophy: U Chicago 2-12 (1) Princeton 3-14 (2) Rutgers 3-16 (3) U Michigan 3-17 (4) UC-Berkeley 5-21 (5) NYU 7-23 (6) MIT 10-31 (7) U Pittsburg 15-41 (8) 19-47 (11) Stanford 15-42 (9) Carnegie Mellon 15-49 (10) Columbia 17-51 (12) UC-San Diego 24-48 (13) U Notre Dame 20-53 (14) Brown 21-54 (15) UNC 25-59 (16) Harvard 27-67 (17)  Philosophy (combined) : U of Pittsburg 2/8 [4]/2/11 [7] (two programs) U of Michigan 7/4 [5] U Chicago 1/11 [6] Rutgers 12/3 [8] MIT 9/7 [10]  Religion :Duke 2-11 (1) U Chicago 2-11 (1) U Notre Dame 5-17 (3) Emory 7-21 (4) UNC 5-23 (4) Princeton 7-26 (6) Yale 9-24 (7) Harvard 9-27 (8)  Religion (combined): U Chicago 1/1 [1] Duke 1/4 [2] Princeton 3/6 [3] Emory 4/5 [3] Harvard 2/8[5]  Spanish : Yale 2-11 (1) Brown 3-26 (2) NYU 6-25 (3) Penn state 6-38 (4) Vanderbilt 7-39 (5) UC-Berkeley 940 (6) Columbia 12-46 (7) UC-Davis 18-50 (8) U Virginia 17-54 (9) U Illinois-UC 23-52 (11) Princeton 13-64 (11) Purdue 17-63 (12) UT-Austin 21-63 (13) Stanford 21-66 (14) UC-Santa Barbara 18-70 (15)  Spanish (combined): Brown 3/2 [1] Columbia 1/7 [2] U Virginia 9/5 [3]  History: Yale 1/7-28 (5)/1 [2] Columbia 5/9-26 (5)/6 [5] [D] [Health Sciences] Immunology Kinesiology Microbiology Nursing Pharmacolog Public Health Tota & Infectious y & l Disease Toxicology 1 Yale 2-3/4 PSU 2-9 Stanford 25 /2 UCSF 2-7 Yale 3-28 Harvard (Epidemiology ) 2-10 2 Stanford 411 /4 U of Connecticut Harvard 217 /1 U Penn 3-12 UNC 3-37 Harvard (Occupational Health) 2-16 3 Washingto n U. (St Louis) 4-11/outside 6 U of Georgia 4-22 Washingto n U –St Louis 4-26 Yale U Penn Harvard (Nutrition) Harvard 426 /3 U of Massachusetts 3-27 UCBerkeley 534/3 Johns Hopkins Stanford 349 (4 tied) U. of Michigan 3-40 5 U Penn 536 /8 U of MinnesotaTwin Cities Columbia 5-37 U of Washingto n 6-22 Vanderbilt 4-48 (4 tied) Harvard (Health Policy) 5-46 6 UCLA 736 /outside 6 U of IllinoisNYU 9-43 U of Michigan MIT 6-49 UCBerkeley 8-47 30 Chicago 2-33 9-32 7 UCBerkeley 541 /outside 6 Washingto n U-St Louis 9-36 Duke 9-45 Case Western Reserve Yale 9-51 8 Emory 844 /outside 6 UNC 1234 U of Washington 10-50 U of IllinoisChicago -35 9 U of Chicago 746/outside 6 U. of Delaware U Penn 1153 Emory 9-37 U Michigan 14-55/outside 6 U of Florida 10-42 U Virginia 11-54 U of Iowa 9-38 11 ASU 13-39 Tufts 1255 U of Kentucky 12-36 12 U of Maryland Yale 14-53 NYU 15-50 13 U of WisconisnMadison18 -48 UWMadison 1256/4 UWMadison -49 14 U of Illinois-UC 15-53 Case Western Reserve 13-58 15 UT-Austin 17-52 U of Pittsburg U of Virginia 18-61 [E] [Life Sciences] Ran Biochemist Biology / Cell and Ecology Genetics Neuroscien Physiolo Tot k ry, Integrate Developmen and and ce and gy al Biophysics, d Biology tal Biology Evolutiona Genomic Neurobiolo and / ry Biology s gy Structural Integrate Biology d Biomedic al Sciences 1 Stanford 3/3-24 (3)/1 Cal Tech 2-7 (1) MIT 1/2-5 (1)/outside 6 or 4 Stanford 1/ND/ 4 MIT 1/2-7 (1)/6 UC-San Diego 1/4-19 (4)/2 2 MIT 2/2-14 UCSAN Harvard 5/3-13 Harvard ND/4Harvar /2-9 (2)/3 UCSF 4/4-24 (5)/5 5 UCSF UCSF MIT 1/9-32 2/2014/3-15 (1996 (5)/7 93(23)/7 (2)/5 NRC)  Biology/Integrated Biology (2010 only)  Cell Developmental Biology : UC-Berkeley 12/6-34 (5)/outside 6 or 1  Ecology and Evolutionary Biology : UC-Berkeley 8/6-30 (6)/1 Averaged for 3 institutions [3]  Neuroscience and Neurobiology : UC-Berkeley 9/8-38 (8)/outside 8  Ecology and Evolution 2010 : Princeton 3-15 (1) Duke 4-18 (2) Indiana-Bloomington 4-25 (4) Washington U. 4-25 (4) UC-Davis 9-38 (6) U of Chicago 9-34(7)  Neuroscience : Johns Hopkins 6-29 (6) Yale 9-35 (7)  Physiology(Combined): U. of Virginia 9/11-64(6)/[5] U. of Iowa 12/5-60(5)/[6] Vanderbilt 15/2-31(3)/[7] U. of Michigan 16/4-33(4)/[8] UC-San Diego 2/No data UCSF 5/No data Stanford 8/No Data  Only the ranks of program are provided, in which those of life sciences or health sciences as a faculty seem a little malleable as a matter of integrity and scholarly classification. For the programs without a red rank in parenthesis, red ranks at the most left column could possibly apply to them. Since the practice of US graduate programs can vary along the years (for example, shorter list in 2018 for the specialties), the indication 'outside' may not be serious to understand the institutions. 'or' may be more appropriate since the indication of programs does not replicate exactly between the NRC and US rankings. [F] [Natural Sciences] Ra nk Institu tion Applied Mathe matics Astroph ysics and Astrono my Chemi stry Comp uter Scienc es Earth Scien ces Mathe matics Oceanog raphy, Atmosph eric Sciences, and Meteorol ogy Phys ics Statisti cs and Proba bility To tal Berkele y ( US News) 3/417 (3)/ 1/4 -11 (3)/1 3/2 -4 (1)/1 3/ 3 39 ( 7 /3 2/211 (3)/ 4 /3-16 (2)/2 2/4 -11 (3)/2 22 /8 2 9-27 (5)/4 [3] 8/929 (8)/ [5] 5/1 1-34 (8)/1 2/5 -14 (3)/1 2/ 13-44 (10)/1 3/1023 (7)/1 [3] 2/8-35 3 /6-32 (5)/1 24 /7 MIT (7) 2-17(1) U. of Washington 7/13-64(7)/[14] (tied) [ Baylor College of Medicine 6/13-65 (8)/[14] UCSF 5 1 [8] [3] [1] [2] [2] [2] [2] [2] 32 - [4] [3] [2] [4] 3 4 Princet 1-1 2/320/ 6/7 13 1/2-9 2 29 on [1] 8 (2)/1 26-80 -23 /12- (1)/1 /6-21 /7 [2] (17)/1 (4)/8 44 (9 [1] (4)/2 5 [13] [4] )/11 [2] Harvar 9-29 4/84/2 11/ 8/ 4/61 6/4 34 d [8] 27 (6)/4 -11 14-63 3-18 15 (5)/3 /2-5 -7 (2)/3 /8 [4] (1)/4 (10)/1 (1)/8 [4] (1)/2 [3] [3] 8 [8] [5] [1] 5 Cal 7-30 ( 1/22/4 12/ 1/ 11/1 5 30 Tech 7)/ 3 ( 5 (1)/2 72-153 5-18 2-37 /15- /7 US news [1] 10(2)/ (35)/1 (3)/1 (10)/7 65 ) 1 1 [1] [6] (12)/ [2] [1] [14] 2 [ 5] 6 Stanfor [8] 22/ 3/1 1/2 5/ 6/418/N 9 1/2 35 d (US ND/5 0-34 -4 6-26 12 (4)/5 D /14- -2 (1)/1 /8 news) [8] (7)/4 (1)/1 (5)/3 [5] 55 [1] [4] [1] [2] (10)1 /2 [6 ]  Astrophysics : PSU 7-24 (4) Johns Hopkins 7-29 (5) U Chicago 9-28 (7) OSU 10-33(9)  Math : NYU 2-9 (1) U Michigan 8-21 (6) PSU 9-26 (8) UW-Madison 14-34 (9) Cal Tech 12-37 (10) Yale 1643 (11)  Applied Math : UCLA 4-18 (2) U of Washington 6-20 (3) Cornell 5-24 (4) Brown 6-23 (4)Northwestern 828 (5) Cal Tech 7-30 (7) Harvard 9-29 (8) NYU 9-31 (9) UC Davis 9-32 (10) UT-Austin 10-33 (11) U. Arizona 12-35 (12) U. Colorado-Boulder 13-36 (13) SUNY at Stony Brook 16-40 (14) USC 20-42(15)  Computer Sciences : UC Santa Barbara 8-33 (5) Cornell 10-44 (6) U Penn 13-44 (7) UC San Diego 7-65 (8) University of Illinois-UC (9) Michigan State 14-69 (11) UCLA 13-68 (11) Duke 24-71 (13) UW-Madison 20-78 (14) * Carnegie Melon 1st in US news Computer Sciences  Earth Sciences: UC-Irvine 3-18 (1) Four more Cal Tech programs within top ten (3)(4)(6) (8) PSU 21-54 (11) U of Chicago 27-64 (12)  Oceanography : UC-San Diego 2-12 (1) UCLA 3-19 (2) Colorado State University 4-27 (3) U of Maryland 427 (4) UW-Madison 7-30 (5) UC-Santa Barbara 6-37 (6) MIT 8-35 (7) U of Michigan 9-43(8)  Oceanography (Combined) : UC-San Diego 1/1 [1] MIT 2/7 [2] * A number of programs in 2010 NRC, for example, Colorado State, UC-Santa Barbara or UCLA do not appear in 1996 NRC so that the combined rank should be in limited purpose of theKiosk.  Physics: Harvard DEA program 3-17 (3) UC-Santa Barbara 7-32 (6)  Statistics : U of Michigan 8-26 (4) U of Chicago 9-26 (5) Duke 9-32 (6) Penn State 11-36 (7) UNC 13-35 (8) Iowa State University 13-38 (9) U of Washington 14-39 (10) UW-Madison 11-45 (11) Columbia 18-49 (12) North Carolina State 21-46 (12) U Penn 21-46 (12th threetied) [G] [Communication] Rank Institution Range (S-Rank + R-Rank) 1 U of Penn 3-52 2 PSU 6-58 3 MSU 7-62 4 Stanford 2-70 5 Cornell 4-70 6 UW-Madison 6-81 33 7 U of Michigan 6-88 8 Indiana at Bloomington 8-86 9 OSU 14-89 [H] [Education] Ra nk Institu tion Curri culum and Instru ction Educati onal Admini stration and Supervi sion Educ ation Polic y Educa tional Psych ology Elem entary Teach er Educ ation Higher Educati on Admini stration Seco ndar y Teac her Educ ation Speci al Educ ation Stude nt Coun seling and Perso nnel Servic es Tech nical / Vocat ional To tal 1 UW Madiso n [1] [1] [3] [1] [4] [6] [10] [3] 29 /8 2 MS [2] [8] [9] [4] [1] [1] [1] [12] 49 /9U 2 Van derbilt [3] [2] [4] [5] [6] [8] [8] [2] 38 /8 2 U of Michig an [6] [12] [7] [2] [2] [2] [2] 33 /7 5 Col umbia [3] [3] [5] [3] [13] [3] 65 /8 5 Sta nford [3] [6] [1] [3] [10] [12] [5] 40 /7 5 Har vard [3] [2] [11] 29 /4 * Between the specialty and programs, the college of education has a number of specialties, being described as specialty or programs by USNW graduate ranking. The institutions may have one or several doctoral programs in Education, but were not included in the previous NRC rankings. The rankings had a decade of history, and compose part of this KIOSK. They would be around 4-6 at maximum for possible number of 1 or 2nd when we need to count. The rationale is to be consistent with the NRC way of approach based on the real programs of institution. The specialties for the Social Science in USNW merge within NRC categories. However, those of Natural Science, mostly subcategories of the biological science, had been paralleled within the Life or Health Sciences. It is because they cross over the name of programs although they are designated solely as specialty, with no mention as programs. [I] [Agricultural Sciences] Rank Institution Animal Entomology Food Forestry Nutrition Plant Total Sciences Science and Sciences Forest Sciences 1 UWMadison -15 [2] 19-84 [21] 23/2 12 Oklahoma 10-59 10338/2 State [5] 196 [33]  Food Science: U of Massachusetts 2-10 (1) Purdue 3-18 (3) U of Arkansas 8-35 (7) Rutgers 14-40 (8) U of Maryland 19-47 (11)  Forestry: Yale 4-15 (2) Oregon State 6-22 (3) Purdue 8-30 (5)  Nutrition: UNC 2-15 (1) Tufts 2-16 (2) PSU 5-26 (4) UC-Davis 6-26 (5) UC-Berkeley 5-30 (6) Ohio State University 13-49 (12) University of Florida 16-48(13)  Plant Sciences : UC-Berkeley 2-13 (1) Washington State University 5-35 (5) * The rule of rank on average was not applied for the institutions with 1 or 2 programs. Rank Nuclear Clinical Rehabilitation Engineering Psychology Counseling 1 University of Michigan UCLA UW-Madison 2 UW-Madison UC-Berkeley Michigan State University  From the Data 2010-2018: [J] Other 1 (Included for overall rank) [K] [Other 2: Master or other Graduate Programs covered comprehensively by NRC]* Rank Occupational Therapy Physician Assistant Health Care Management Social Work Physical Therapy Speech Language Pathology 1 Boston U. Duke U Michigan of U Michigan of U of Delaware/U of Pittsburg/U of Southern California/ Washington University in St. Louis U of Iowa 2 Washington University in St. Louis U Iowa Of U of AlabamaBirmingham Washington University in St. Louis Vanderbilt 35 -  Since this study is based on the classification of NRC field category, Other 2 was not included for ranking consideration while Other 1 was accounted. Useful Links & References http://www.phds.org/ (2010 NRC) https://www.chronicle.com/article/NRC-Rankings-Overview-/124743 (2010 NRC before revision) https://www.stat.tamu.edu/~jnewton/nrc_rankings/nrc41indiv.html (1996 NRC-1 41 specific areas) https://www.stat.tamu.edu/~jnewton/nrc_rankings/nrc1.html (1996-NRC-2 Brief) Kim, Kiyoung and Ju, Hyun-Meong and Khatun, Marium, A Reflection on the Research Method and Exemplary Application to the College and University Rankings (October 23, 2015 ). Kiyoung Kim, Hyun -Meong Ju, Marium Khatun. A Reflection on the Research Method and Exemplary Application to the College and University Rankings. Education Journal. Vol. 4, No. 5, 2015, pp. 250-262. doi: 10.11648/j.edu.20150405.23. Available at SSRN: https ://ssrn.com/abstract=2686045 Kim, K., Borhanian, S., Chung, K.-T., Park, Y.-H., Lee, W.-S., & Kim, J.-H. (2016). The Graduate Law Degree Holders in the Legal Education Market: Evidence from the US, Rankings and Implications. Beijing Law Review, 7, 371399 . http://dx.doi.org/10.4236/blr.2016.74031 Kim, Kiyoung and Ju, Hyun-Meong and Khatun, Marium, A Teacher and Researcher: A Scratch on the Science Community and Meaning of Evaluation with the Research Doctoral Programs Ranking (September 7, 2015). International Journal of Philosophy, 3(4): 34-46, 2015, DOI: 10.11648/j.ijp.20150304.11. Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=2668450 The KIOSK will be part of my on-going research project. In the meantime, the comment and suggestion are welcome for the data errors or constructive goodness. Any questions or inquiries will be directed to the author: Kiyoung Kim, Professor of Law, Faculty of Law, Chosun University. E-mail) [email protected]. 36 The Quality Graduate School in the US Longitudinal Studies 1992-2018: Alternative to 1997 Gourman Report Institution Breadth / Resear CM ch UP Pate nt Total Gourm a-n Fund ed Numb er of Availabil Funding (6%) (5+ 6= Report Graduate Doctorat ity (11%) 11%) (17%) Students es (40%) (5%) Awarded (10%) 1 Wisconsin 1 2-6 10-12 48 5-15 2-8 (Madison) 8/5 2 Michigan 3 2 5-8 93 3-7 1-5 (Ann Arbor) 11/11 3 Harvard 15 8-31 1-4 91 5-11 8-16 29/9 4 Stanford 15 9-14 1-4 35 7-11 4-14 4/2 5 MIT 12 11-23 1-4 2/7 9 17-33 14-17 6 UCBerkeley Notre Dame 43 104-143 NA -/50 213 77-103 [For the view of 1992-2018 graduate students]  Breadth/Availability (1996, 2010 NRC Assessment of Research Doctorate): measured the availability of doctoral programs for the prospective graduate students. The ranking is based on the number of doctoral programs in two NRC reports, and adjustment, just in cases, had been made with the institution named Technology or typical universities with regent commission and rank order in each doctoral programs. Nevertheless, the main intention with the number of rated programs had been upheld over most of all cases and rigorously.  Research funding (1992-2017) NSF ranking of research expenditure/including the amount of dollars for funded students): measured the capabilities of faculty to operate the doctoral studies under his or her supervision as well as the competence of doctoral students.  CMUP (Center Measuring University Performance/Gourman Report): Traditional measure from the faculty resources including award and grants, membership of national academy, givings, and etc. The ranking is intended to highlight the diversity of graduate studies and school's response to provide a fit on the width of graduate programs so that the proportionality is given to weight accordingly in addition to the small share of traditional measure.  The patent data was collected through the Association of American Investors. An adjustment was made in consideration of the state populace against the collective base of patent numbers on several institutions, i.e., University of California all campuses, Wisconsin foundation, UT foundation and so.  The Gourman ranking was compiled through a decade of years over time, and the ranking as a measure for this report represents its last publication in Princeton Review 1997. Since the ranking had long been steady without a significant change, it is not inaccurate to say the ranking can have a ground through the years. That is otherwise in other slot of indicators, which cover the period of data production to corroborate with this longitudinal studies.  NA means that the institution falls behind top 75 institutions. References Kim, Kiyoung and Ju, Hyun-Meong and Khatun, Marium, A Reflection on the Research Method and Exemplary Application to the College and University Rankings (October 23, 2015). Education Journal. Vol. 4, No. 5, 2015, pp. 250-262. doi: 10.11648/j.edu.20150405.23. Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=2686045 Kim, K., Borhanian, S., Chung, K.-T., Park, Y.-H., Lee, W.-S., & Kim, J.-H. (2016). The Graduate Law Degree Holders in the Legal Education Market: Evidence from the US, Rankings and Implications. Beijing Law Review, 7, 371-399. http://dx.doi.org/10.4236/blr.2016.74031 Kim, Kiyoung and Ju, Hyun-Meong and Khatun, Marium, A Teacher and Researcher: A Scratch on the Science Community and Meaning of Evaluation with the Research Doctoral Programs Ranking (September 7, 2015). International Journal of Philosophy, 3(4): 34-46, 2015, DOI: 10.11648/j.ijp.20150304.11. Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=2668450  The ranking has been revised with the suggestions and criticism -for example, adjustment of shares within 39 each slot and inclusion of patent data on universities -against my initial publication within the social media of global researchers, i.e., SSRN, Academia.edu, Researchgate.net and Philpapers.org. It will be part of my consulting reference and school guide. At any time, the comment and suggestion are welcome for the data errors or any constructive goodness. Any questions or inquiries will be directed to the author of this data sheet: Kiyoung Kim, Professor of Law, Faculty of Law, Chosun University. E-mail) [email protected] Table 8: Top Quality Graduate School US plus Find-Masters (Please see Appendix I) Table 9: Previous Global Ranking plus Find-Masters (Please see Appendix II) Corrections and Supplementary Notes * The final rank in table 1 only portrayed five institutions, which were considered to most probably top over the global law schools. Along with Cambridge as mentioned, Columbia University, University of Pennsylvania, University of London (tied at 6th place) can remain on the previous rankings in Exhibit II from my 2015 article on research doctoral programs in law. As you may conjecture, however, John. C. Coffee for New York University School of Law and Robert E . Scott for University of Michigan Law School may effect change on previous ranking according to the frame of researcher. Given that variable, Columbia , NYU and Michigan would be at 6th position as tied, and Cambridge, Penn, and London would be placed 7th (if tied means a group) or 9th (tied focused on an individual institution as usually practiced by IREGs). In this case, Robert P. Merges, as a new rookie for Columbia and Albert A. Ehrenzweig (earned SJD degree later in his years) peered to highlight Columbia case. You may note that a cook on such distinction between group or individual and social or capitalistic also permeated into my ranking formula . As you read, I applied a total numberbased approach for Humanities and Social Science impact ranking in Exhibit III from above article. The justice for the quality of main group or society deserves a gravitation. Unlike a law discipline, the picture of Exhibit III is contaminated with many of European institutions, the kind of socialistic tradition of community. Given the educational ranking stands on the soil of addresses and consumers of ranking, it is thought to be more apposite to treat as a group or based on total number, which is other than the community of individual purse. As I linked above to my article in chapter 3, please visit if you are interested. * The chapter 2 is primarily designed to follow up with my previous publication for two doctoral programs, "A Teacher and Researcher: A Scratch on the Science Community and Meaning of Evaluation with the Research." Therefore, the presentation in that article remains valid to complement with this book content. First, the reason to rank underlies the lack of precise ranking source for two doctoral programs. Second, degree impact ranking in the article and book may be an important factor for consideration (55%), which is not perfect though. Third, other factors, such as faculty productivity or scholarly impact(15%), general reputation of law school (15%), and overall research performance of university, should come into play to yield a final doctoral ranking for the B-type student group, for example. Fourth, I reinstated, therefore, the previous ranking of 2015 publication and 2016 ranking shown at Table A1 "Consulting-Based Research Doctorate in law Ranking." However, you need to consider a possible slight change about the institutions from sixth through seventh or ninth as above-mentioned. The 2016 ranking was compiled within the article titled "The Graduate Law Degree Holders in the Legal Education Market: Evidence from the US, Rankings and Implications," which also was linked in chapter 3. * Under each category of factors, of course, variables can be schemed according to a respective rater, for instance, fellowships for Guggenheim, ALI, AAAS and many others-often entailed to a resume of law professors or peer review score or law journal rankings and etc. under the general reputation category. In that case, the evaluators or consultants need to be wiser as well as lenient to consider the particular national context of variables. For instance, excessive ratio for ALI or AAAS membership may foil other basis of researchers, a Russian or Chinese legal scholars when the ranking goes global. In any case, the approach with publication statistics seems most universal about persuasion at this point of time concerning scholarly excellence measurement. That is simply valid when we take account of practice from other ranking sources. So I also started with Most Cited as a basis of educational consulting or evaluation. For some cases, a rater may discard the overall aspect of university research performance when he or she works entirely in the end to rate the strength of legal research program in law (i.e., 20%-faculty, 25%-law school, 55%-degree impact). Four factors above would do good when the evaluator advises applicants for their preference to select the program institutions. As a reminder, my ranking formula was designed to highlight the effectiveness of degree holders, which comes to contrast with usual deals, what we see as faculty-oriented. The high ranked graduates or students may be proud "we learned from the caliber of faculty." The high ranked graduates or students in my case would be proud, "we are able to be a good legal researcher or professor if to follow the senior alumni faithfully." So I simply affirmed that there could be a plethora of formula leading to a different rank, which I am granted to expect. * As you see in Appendix I and II, I had been consistently equal for the two sources of ranking so that you will find two rankings tied through the end of list. An exception will be noted for the top two institutions in both appendices. My rationale is to assimilate both ranking lists with other usual commercial products in forms and style, to say, usually one institution at top. Additionally, the number of graduate students between US and UK was considered to decorate the top in Appendix I (more graduate students for US, hence, viewed more prosperous). The current status and practice of science world on publication and journals concerning scholars' language was taken into account to determine a solo top in Appendix II. The kind of idea, reversed discrimination or affirmative action in US terms of justice, was applied to give a preference to the French school provided that publication outlets mostly would be in English. * Given my all time approach, the pattern of scholarly impact is interesting on trend. It is relatively consistent and steady as years continue, which is because the law studies fall somewhere between the arts or humanities and social science. On one hand, old pieces of work can be taken as a classic to draw the scholarly attractions notwithstanding the time of publication. Nevertheless, such aspect is a matter of degree that the decline also occurs as same to the works of natural science or engineering. My assumption here is that the landscape and classification within Shapiro's formula stands good to understand the scholarship of jurisprudence and legal science. For example, Most Cited 50 can mean more than total of authors' citation in a specific institution because of its impression and subject identity to the scholars and students. Ranking most cited articles (other than authors or scholars) also has an independent consort despite a small number of total among all legal scholars. So my approach is very delicate and post-modernistic to measure the institutional strength of law discipline. Given this work is based on Most Cited, the range may come to picture 50 or 100 as HeinOnline, I suggest that 50 can work fairly effectively. The degree year, say about LLM or SJD, PhD in law, also needs to be considered provided that those degrees may be earned later in lifetime so that works after the year should only be included for counting cites. If evaluator believes that the graduate law degrees later achieved is insubstantial or unrelated with academic accomplishment as per training, the scholars of sort may be excluded from ranking consideration even about the works afterward. As Shapiro hinted, no error to include all most cited workers could not be warranted so that researcher has to plunge to hear, feel and espionage for any unearthed cite monsters. For example, he may note Eugene Volokh for his amounting wake to earn citations recently. As said, new 50s for the list Most Cited could change because time intervened. Therefore, alteration could be feasible which is thought neither extensive or traded off as in Harvard case. The range can be newly set according to the judgment of respective author (which I encourage to deal with our post-modern reality) or all degree holders may be investigated as I attempted on my 2016 article. The researcher may set a cut-off number for inclusion , for instance, 3,000, 4,000, 5,000 and so for journal citations with yearly increase, 3,200 (of course, 4,200, 5,200), 3,400, 3, 600 and on. * In the table 1, John Wade was originally omitted. The total number of cites (2,383 should be added) and percentage for yielding a rank was adjusted although his name did not appear due to the editing challenge. Carol Smart originally from Shapiro's was not considered for Sheffield because her degree was PhD in Socio-legal studies. The kind of ambiguity in degree name as in Professor Smart's case may resolve at the discretion and judgment of respective evaluator concerning whether to include or not. If included, Sheffield may come up with 8 or 10th place although her cites count might be nanny. Again, her impression and impact on British or global academia is precious in my case, although there could be other degree institutions with authors of more cites at total while she was on the list for one book as most cited. My formula, of course, does not cruelly oust other institutions, which I hate as you feel in my book title. The rest of unranked institutions would not be farther so that Stanford or Berkeley, Duke, and so (based on other ranking sources, such as USNW, ARWU, THE or QS) should follow immediately after University of Pennsylvania or Sheffield, whose ranks then appear as usually around. Global truncation is not desired as this work is post-modernistic and against mass deals fueling a desperateness, derangement or discrimination, which is never preferred with the cause of globally familial community and consequent humanity. Of course, you will imagine, then, the ranks of other global institutions according to many plausible groups of comparison, which should come shoulder to shoulder with US law schools, considered most prominent at Westlaw or Lexis /Nexis. *Given a national group preferred by evaluator for reasons (such as language or distinct legal system), Seoul National University or Korea and Yonsei universities may come right after Penn or Sheffield with equal ranks to Stanford, Duke and Berkeley or so. This model of ranking design may multiply on the selection of evaluators with their cause and rationale about the group of law schools or program institutions. The ranked institutions in each group should not be discriminated with rationale and global policy of universalism, philanthropy, as well as idealistic and humane constitutionalism for oneness. For Asian case other than Korean group, Beijing or Tsinghua university, of course, may have no reason to be deranged from top 12 law schools or graduate degree programs. This context of new ranking parade may extend to Heidelberg or Munich, University of Complutence, McGill, Toronto and so on, according to the language scholars mainly use or legal system as well as national culture and system of legal education. *In Chapter 5, U-Multirank has been available for reference since 2014. It is is a part of EU educational project and covers 850 higher educational institutions in 70 countries. The strength of this ranking resides in its flexibility to read the data enabling to create his or her own ranking, and now lately is added as one of global ranking for the box of global typology. Meanwhile, it is corrected that the RUR ranking provides a couple of subject ranking. * In history, the rating doctoral education is known to be exercised three times, 1982, 1996 and 2010. As common and sympathetic to the interested parties and public concerning the ranking materials, disagreement and criticism are not unusual. From the research doctorate, national and global rankings, intellectuals and experts are not few tantalizing to discuss the methodology and criticize the weaknesses or flaws of methodology. For example, the survey method is prone to mislead the goal of rating for various reasons, e.g, the pro-state or flagship university bias in the federal system of United States, less exposed, unserious or even pranking respondents to the surveyed area, and so. This does not mean if other ways of rating based on documentary evidence or scholastic record, for example, publications and citations, research funding, faculty award, SAT and GRE score is perfect and credible that one can be entirely relied. Despite its often sophistication and complexion, the method can be criticized for far-changeable regression or structural bias to distill new proposal as construction problems for final ranking, to say a few. In some cases, the report of ranking may be discredited for the methodological problem. In the main text, I have provided meta-information and ranking results as aided with the NRC assessment and USNW graduate programs ranking. With respect to the historic insights, I have added the doctoral ranking of publication dimension compiled by the Conference Board of Associated Research Councils(CBARC) in 1982. It was the first time exercise that NRC participated with other three educational organizations and overcome the flaws of previous efforts addressing the increasing need to assess the doctoral education systemically and in an organized manner. Around the ethos and concern to national workforce committed to rank, Goldberger, Maher, & Evert described, "The Studies of Huges, Keniston, Cartter and Roose and Anderson, relied entirely on reputational measures and were criticized for this (See for example, Dolan 1976; Harnett, Clark, and Baird, 1978) .... Participants at a 1976 conference on the Assessment of Quality Graduate Education Program organized by the CBARC identified some of the uses to be....What was needed, 1976 conference concluded, was a study "limited to research-doctorate programs and designed to improve the methodologies in earlier studies (John, Lindzey and Coggeshall, 1982..." Number of Top Score Doctoral Programs Rank Institution 1st ranked programs (A +B)* 1 UW-Madison 10 2 UC-Berkeley 9 3 MIT 8 3 Harvard 8 5 UCLA 6 6 Michigan 4 6 Minnesota 4 6 Stanford 4 9 Cal Tech 3 9 Yale 3 11 Chicago 2 11 Illinois 2 11 Princeton 2 11 UC-Davis 2 15 Colorado State 1 15 NYU 1 15 Purdue 1 15 UC-San Francisco 1 15 U.Penn 1 [A] Table 1 Rank Institution 1982Report*** (pub.) USNWR** 1st ranked 1 UW-Madison 2 4 6 2 UC-Berkeley 4 4 2 UCLA 2 2 4 4 Michigan 2 1 3 4 Harvard 2 1 3 6 Illinois 2 2 6 Minnesota 2 2 8 Chicago 1 1 8 Colorado State 1 1 8 MIT 1 1 8 Purdue 1 1 8 Stanford 1 1 8 UC-Davis 1 1 8 U-Penn 1 1 8 Washington**** 1 1 [B] Table 2 Rank Institution 1982 Report (rpu.)*** USNWR** 1st ranked 1 MIT 7 7 2 UC-Berkeley 5 5 3 Harvard 4 1 5 4 UW-Madison 4 4 5 Cal Tech 3 3 5 Yale 3 3 7 Stanford 2 1 3 8 Minnesota 2 2 8 Princeton 2 2 8 UCLA 2 2 8 Michigan 1 1 2 12 Chicago 1 1 12 NYU 1 1 12 UC-Davis 1 1 12 UC-San Francisco 1 1 Number of Top 10 Doctoral Programs Rank Institution 1982 Report** USNWR*** Total 1 UW-Madison 16 7 23 2 UC-Berkeley 17 4 21 3 Illinois 13 4 17 3 UCLA 13 4 17 5 MIT 12 1 13 6 Minnesota 10 3 13 7 Michigan 7 5 12 8 Washington**** 8 4 12 9 Stanford 7 4 11 10 Cornell 9 0 9 10 Penn 7 1 8 10 Yale 7 1 8 10 Purdue 7 0 7  * Program integrity approach meaning no divide between reputation and survey. In other words, 10 means 5 professors as a top rank doctorate, 9 to 4.5 professors, 8 to 4 and 1 to 0.5.  ** Monitored since 1990 and sample year plus adjustment made (1982-Present): Education & Other NRC uncovered subjects.  ** B-School, Law School, Nursing School, and Medical School are not included for they are MBA/JD/MD focused-taught based mainly.  *** The data 1982 report: sourced from RANKING OF UNIVERSITIES' REPUTATIONS AND NUMBER OF FACULTY PUBLICATIONS Jan. 17, 1983, New York Times.  Between two dimensions on publication and reputation, the table shows PUBLICATION LEADERS.  **** Seattle, WA Historical Chart for Select Research Universities Rank Institution 1925/1957/196 5* 1970* 1982 ** +USNW 1996+US NW*** 2010+US NW*** Total Score 1 UWMadison 97 (4/8/7) 42 100 (1/1) 100 100 439 2 Harvard 100 (2/1/1) 48 96 (3/3) 94 100 438 3 Stanford 95.5 (14/13/5.5) 49 94 (2/7) 100 98 436.5 4 UCBerkeley 99 (9/2/2) 50 99 (2/1) 94 94 436 5 Yale 99.5 (5/4/3) 45 91 (5/6) 95 93 423.5 6 Michigan 96.5 (8/5/8) 42 90 (4/8) 96 95 419.5 7 Princeton 98 (6/7/4) 45 89 (8/6) 92 95 419 8 MIT NA/NA/NA 43 95 (1/5) 96 92 326 9 UCLA 92 (NA/14/11) 45 97 (2/3) 90 NA 324 10 Chicago 98.5 (1/6/6.5) 45 89 (6/8) 90 NA 322.5 11 Minnesota 95.5 (13/12/14.5) NA 90 (6/6) 90 NA 275.5 12 Columbia 97.5 (3/3/9) 42 NA 88 NA 227.5 13 NYU 90 (NA/NA/ 22.5) NA 83 NA 183 14 Duke 90 (NA/NA/22.5) NA NA 87 NA 177 15 Washington (Seattle) 91.5 (NA/NA/16.5) 84 (8/8) NA NA NA 175.5 16 Northwestern 93.5 (17/17/16.5) NA NA 80 NA 173.5 17 Cornell 96 (10/9/11) 96 18 Illinois 95 (11/10/12) 95 19 Johns Hopkins 94.5 (7/16/10.5) 94.5 20 Penn 94 (12/11/13.5) 94 21 Indiana 93 (19/15/17.5) 93 22 Ohio State 92.5 (15/18/22.5) 92.5 23 North Carolina 91 (NA/NA/17.5) 91 24 Texas 91 (NA/NA/17.5) 91 25 Brown 90.5 (NA/NA/21) 90.5 26 Cal Tech 90 90 27 Penn State 89 89 28 Washing -ton (St. Louis) 89.5 (NA/NA/24) 89.5 29 Pittsburg 88 88 30 UCSan Diego 87 87 31 UC-Davis 85 85 32 Cal San Francisco 83 83 33 Georgia Tech 82 82 34 Rockefeller 81  * A systemic assessment of doctoral programs is known to begin 1982 report, which was provoked with the recognition of latent flaws from pure reputational measure and agreed by the conference of four key institutions (CBARC) including NRC. Hence, 1970 result is taken into account in half (subjective and reputational only) or 20-30 percent (for the number of auspice institutions) against other recent reports. By the same token, 70-100 percent seems adequate for the reports 1925/1957/1965, which were (i) made in the context of no national auspice or (ii) technical schools, such as Cal Tech or MIT and state universities, such as Iowa State or Michigan State, were not considered. The scores for oldest three reports are calculated on the rank yielded by average of three reports (least number for rank order) and 0.5 points are subtracted per one slot differential from the top score, 100.  For overall score, the threshold for selection of list institutions requires to be scored more than one time in each of five ranking tables (two tables in Model I Chapter 3, 1982 report + USNW, 1970 report, 1925/1957/1967 reports).  ** For 1982 scores, four ranking schemes (pub/reputation, top/top ten) were considered and the institutions above two lists of tables qualify for final result. Then, the scores are given to account for two best results. Two best results (indicated in parenthesis) are averaged to receive the ranking. The top institution is given 100 scores. The institutions are given 90 scores if the average ranges between 2-6th and are given 80 scores if between 7-11th. Adjustment is made from the given score in due context.  *** For two most recent ranking tables, top institutions (1st or 2nd) are given 100 scores.. The institutions are given scores as yielded from the formula Breadth/Depth dichotomy in Model I and scaled to the top score 100. Unranked institutions in the first Table are scored. Many institutions still are left as not scored. The second table is even shorter for this book mainly intended to turn up for lead research universities, hence, could possibly jeopardize other institutions left NA or blank. That is left for work of later generations. Nevertheless, I believe that the current rank tabulated in this historical chart will not change if the formula and methodology are same to this book. Adjustment is made from the given score in due context. .  NA or blank means no significant data for institutions.  Data Source : 2010 NRC report/1996 NRC report/NY Times Jan. 17, RANKING OF UNIVERSITIES' REPUTATIONS AND NUMBER OF FACULTY PUBLICATIONS  National Research Council. (1995). Research doctorate programs in the United States: Continuity and change. National Academies Press.  Smith, W., & Bender, T. (Eds.). (2008). American higher education transformed, 1940–2005: Documenting the national discourse. JHU Press.  Keniston, H. (1959). Graduate Study and Research in the Arts and Sciences at the University of Pennsylvania. History of the University of Pennsylvania, 4.  The purpose of this book is to compile the ranking data and provides a rating for the research doctorate programs. Hence, the professional programs, for example, law schools for JD degree or business schools for MBA was not intended to deal with. In this chart, therefore, the data source and cited authorities above rated as most systemically or with popularity, are referenced to compile the final ranking. From other sources, you can be helped out for professional schools or more inclusively about the graduate level study. The information of professional school or more information for the graduate level study is available, for example, A Rating of Professional School Dean in 1974, Gourman Report of Graduate Programs: A Rating of Graduate and Professional Programs in the US and International Universities and USNW Graduate Programs Ranking. I appreciate that a concerned reader continually informed the errors and suggestions for improvement, especially with respect to the Chapter 3 (8th edits, June 12, 2019; 9th edits, January 14, 2020; 10th edits, January 25, 2020). AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY Kiyoung Kim (born 1963) Professor of Law and Public Policy, Chosun University; Bar Membership, New York State, US Court of Appeals Ninth Circuit, Republic of Korea; Dr. Iuris, Seoul National University/Korean Judicial Research Institute, 1987; LL.M., East Asian Legal Studies Center at University of Wisconsin Law School, 1994; Doctor of Juridical Science, East Asian Legal Stucies Center at Universityof Wisconsin Law School, 1995; PH.D(International Relations and Diplomacy), Academie de Paris, INSEEC(Grande Ecole), Centre des Etudes Diplomatiques etStrategiques, 2003; D.PHIL(Public Policy),Walden University(Flagship University of Laureate International), 2018; Doctor of Philosophy(Business Administration), Chosun University, 2020. For more information, please visit (1) https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBTLFjuPrBolPJZujvYtwvg (2) http://www.chosun.ac.kr/user/indexSub.do?codyMenuSeq=293044&siteId=% 7Elaw&dum=dum&prfId=298957&page=1&command=view&prfSeq=574864&search &column&fbclid=IwAR0owJFWQ7aXXifqsgyt-5JlKqHgvbKSmRBGIItZuasRX4Edsqs AR4f3oaI
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
GRAHAM PRIEST Dialectic and Dialetheic Science & Society, Vol. 53, No. 4 (Winter, 1989/1990), pp. 388-415 Introduction: Dialectics Requires Dialetheism THIS ESSAY ARGUES FOR an intimate connection between dialectics and dialetheism. Dialectics, I will not attempt to define here; nor will I attempt to discuss all the uses that have been made of that notion. Rather, I will concentrate on the use that Hegel and, later, Marx made of it. Dialetheism[1] requires a little more comment. A dialetheia is a true contradiction, where "contradiction" has its ordinary, logical, sense. Thus, a dialetheia is a true statement of the form A&~A. Dialetheism is, consequently, the view that there are true contradictions. In modern form, dialetheism is a somewhat novel and as yet unorthodox position. Typically, those who accept it have been driven to it by consideration of the logical paradoxes and connected problems.[2] The burden of this article is, however, that although the name may be novel, the view itself is by no means so. In particular, Hegel's and Marx's dialectics is based on dialetheism. With the benefit of historical hindsight we may not, perhaps, find this overwhelmingly surprising. For no one before this century tried harder than Hegel to think through the consequences of thought thinking about itself, or of categories applying to themselves. And this is just the kind of self-referential situation that gives rise to the logical paradoxes. [1] The word is a neologism. For its genesis, see the preface to Priest, et al, 1989. [2] For example, see Priest, 1979. The first part of Priest, 1986, contains a discussion of dialetheism and further references. 1 Why It Is Necessary to Argue This Despite this, it is very necessary in a contemporary context to argue that dialectics is dialetheic. Prima facie, Hegel's and Marx's dialetheism is an open-and-shut case. For example, in the Science of Logic (1969) Hegel says (in this and all subsequent quotations italics are in the original): . . . common experience . . . says that . . . there is a host of contradictory things, contradictory arrangements, whose contradiction exists not merely in external reflection, but in themselves. (440.) And asserts boldly a few lines later: External sensuous motion is contradiction's immediate existence. Something moves, not because at one moment it is here and at another there, but because at one and the same moment it is here and not here, because in this "here," it at once is and is not. Yet many, if not most, interpretations of Hegel assert that where Hegel talks of contradiction, and even asserts one, he must be understood as meaning something else. For example, Acton (1967a, 444): Hegel did not regard formal logic as a philosophical science, and he therefore rejected any view that its categories should dominate philosophical thought. Thus, the fact that the word "contradiction" is used in a certain way by formal logicians was not for him a reason for confining himself to that meaning. When Hegel was advocating the dialectical method, he had in mind a method in which opposites, conflicts, tensions and refutations were courted rather than avoided or evaded. Marxist philosophers have been just as content to interpret dialectical contradictions in a similar way. Thus, Cornforth (1971, 92): The key conception of dialectics is this notion of contradiction inherent in the very nature of things. . . . But what exactly do we mean by "contradiction"? If we consider the real, complex movements and interconnections of real, complex things, then we find that contradictory tendencies can and do exist in them. For example, if the forces operating in a body combine tendencies of attraction and repulsion, that is a real contradiction. And if the movement of society combines the tendency to socialise production with the tendency to preserve the private appropriation of the products, this is a real contradiction too. And Norman (Norman and Sayers, 1980, 49): The term "contradiction" is used to refer to the interdependence of opposed concepts. . . . The term "contradiction" is [also] used to refer to certain kinds of conflict. . . . If the conflict is an internal conflict within the purposive activity of a human individual or a human society or social institution, then the conflict can be seen as a self-contradiction. Moreover, it is not only Western philosophers who have subscribed to a non-literal interpretation of "contradiction." For orthodox Soviet philosophers, until the early 1950s "contradiction" seems to have been taken to mean a variety of things (often not clearly distinguished), including opposing tendencies, diametrically opposed concepts, and logical contradictions (see Wetter, 1958, 349). It was, however, orthodox to hold that all of these, including the logical contradictions, obtain in reality. After the early 1950s, however, the idea that "contradiction" might mean logical contradiction became much less orthodox.[3] Thus Sheptulin (1978, 259): Aspects in which changes move in opposite directions and which have opposite trends of functioning and development are called opposites, while the interaction of these aspects constitutes a contradiction. And where modern Soviet philosophers are prepared to admit that a dialectical contradiction is a logical contradiction, they characteristically assert that these may occur "in thought," but not "in reality." Thus, belief systems, or whatever, may be inconsistent; but dialetheias cannot occur. Thus, Narskii (1965, 33; see also Narskii, 1970): Contradictory statements on the pattern "is and is not" either comprise erroneous assertions or formulations of problems requiring solution through a process of modification. [3] Some of the historical story is told in Lobkowicz, 1961. See also Comey, 1966. Now, while there are certainly examples of Hegel and Marx using the notion of contradiction in other than its logical sense, to insist that they never meant what they said literally when they claimed that contradictions occur in reality, or even when they asserted contradictions, inflicts such violence on their dialectics that the distorted product is but a pale shadow of its proper self. For the central theoretical notion of contradiction in Marx and Hegel is precisely the logical one. Other uses are derivative, and usually derive their significance from the central notion. So I shall argue; and in doing so, take on orthodoxy, East and West. 2 The Argument Against this Interpretation I will mount the case for the thesis in subsequent sections. But first it is necessary to explain why so many have rejected this view, and see why this is mistaken. Hegel distinguished, quite rightly, between dialectics and formal logic which was for him the Aristotelian logic of his day. The law of noncontradiction holds in formal logic; but formal logic is correctly applicable only in a limited and well defined area (notably the static and changeless); in dialectical logic, which applies in a much more general domain, the law of noncontradiction fails. Subsequent dialecticians accepted Hegel's distinction. But formal logic has now matured into modern Frege/Russell logic. This is immensely more powerful than syllogistic, and has brought the science of reasoning to age. Whether or not justified in doing so, most modern dialecticians East and West see Frege/Russell logic as giving a definitive account of the most abstract norms of correct and scientific thought. Dialectical logic, whatever else it is, must at least be compatible with this, which, of course, rules out dialetheias. Thus Hegel's and Marx's rejection of the law of non-contradiction, and, consequently, their notion of contradiction, have had to be interpreted non-literally, on pain of a charge of being unscientific, or of irrationalism. (For the former see, e.g., Colletti, 1975, 28. For the latter see Norman, in Norman and Sayers, 1980, 50.) Nor has the supposed significance of modern formal logic been lost on anti-Marxist writers. While defenders of dialectic have been doing their best to explain that Hegel and Marx did not mean what they said, Popper (1940, 317; see also Acton, 1967b, 392), with characteristic charity, assumed that Hegel and Marx did mean what they said, and used this assumption together with some baby logic to reduce dialectics to absurdity: ... it can easily be shown that if one were to accept contradictions then one would have to give up any kind of scientific activity: it would mean a complete breakdown of science. This can be shown by proving that if two contradictory statements are admitted, any statement whatever must be admitted; for from a couple of contradictory statements any statement whatever can be validly inferred. Thus, modern dialecticians, most of whom know very little formal logic, have allowed themselves to be intimidated, and even browbeaten, into reinterpreting dialectical contradictions. This reaction, though understandable in the light of the success story which is modern logic, is rather naive. Someone who accepts that there are true contradictions, and therefore that some things are both true (A) and false (~A) is hardly going to accept the unargued assumption of Frege/Russell logic that truth and falsity are mutually exclusive. Truth and falsity overlap; whence it is possible for things of the form A&~A to be true. It follows, then, that Popper's much vaunted inference A&~A; hence B is quite invalid, since the premise may be true while the conclusion may not be. Frege/Russell logic is, after all, only a theory of the norms of reasoning and like most theories it is almost certainly false. It is notable that 20th century logicians themselves as opposed to those who merely quote it have been under no illusions about the contentious and often shaky nature of some of the assumptions built into the Frege/Russell theory. Though the mutual exclusiveness of truth and falsity may not have been questioned (until recently), many other presuppositions have been questioned, and often rejected: that truth and falsity are exhaustive; that all terms denote; that the conditional is truth functional; that "existential quantification" has existential import; and so on. Dialecticians, even those who made the above observation, would have been hampered in standing up to being bludgeoned with the Principia Mathematica due to the fact that there was no articulated formal theory of logic satisfactory for their purposes. This has now changed. Though only just starting to receive the attention they deserve, paraconsistent logics logics where Popper's inference fails have undergone a very impressive development in the last 20 years.[4] Though this paper is not on formal logic, I will indicate the outlines of at least one of these logics (in fact the one I take to be the most satisfactory for dialetheic purposes), so that even those who know little formal logic will at least be able to see through the claim that formal logic shows dialetheism to be false, or even that Frege/Russell logic provides the only simple, intuitive, logical semantics. 3 Dialetheic Logic Frege/Russell logic assigns to each sentence one of the truth values T (true) and F (false). Dialetheic logic: may assign, in addition, both values (true and false). (Thus, technically, semantic values are non-empty subsets of {T,F}.) The fact that a sentence is true does not, therefore rule out its being false, and vice versa. Given the truth values of basic sentences, the truth values of complex sentences can be worked out by "truth table" conditions. So, for example, the truth conditions of negation are: ~A is true just if A is false ~A is false just if A is true And those for conjunction are: A&B is true just if A is true and B is true A&B is false just if A is false or B is false These truth conditions are, of course, quite orthodox. The truth conditions for disjunction are also exactly what one would expect. Notice that if A is true and false, so is ~A; and so, moreover, is A&~A. In particular, it is true, as dialetheists claim. Logical truth and logical consequence are also defined in the orthodox fashion: A is a logical truth just if A is (at least) true under all assignments of values [4] An introduction to these can be found in Priest and Routley, 1984. Further discussion can be found in ch. 3 of Priest and Routley, 1983, which is reprinted as the introduction to part 2 of Priest, et al, 1989. A is a logical consequence of B just if every assignment of values that makes B (at least) true makes A (at least) true It may be interesting to note that A is a logical truth if A is a two-valued tautology. Thus, these semantics give the same set of logical truths as does orthodox logic. Thus, both Av~A and ~(A&~A) are logical truths. The second of these may seem surprising initially. But if a certain contradiction, A8c~A, may be true, there is no reason why the "secondary contradiction" (A&~A)&~(A&~A) should not also be true. The semantics do, however, give a notion of logical consequence different from the orthodox one. In particular, and as might be expected, B is not a consequence of A&~A, as may be seen by simply assigning B the value F, while assigning A both T and F. It is an entirely straightforward matter to extend these propositional semantics to a semantics for full first-order logic. I will not give details here (they can be found, e.g., in Priest, 1987, ch. 5), but for future reference I will say a little more about identity. Identity statements of the form a = b may be both true and false, like all other statements. A little care has to be taken concerning how, exactly, truth values are assigned; but providing one does this, all the standard principles of identity, such as the law of identity (a = a) and the substitutivity of identicals, are assured. As usual, I will write a ≠ b for ~a = b. One final, and non-standard, piece of logical machinery will also prove useful in the subsequent discussion. We have, in English and other natural languages, a way of nominalizing sentences. The most uniform way of doing this is simply by prefixing "that" to the sentence. Thus the sentential phrase "John is happy" becomes the noun phrase "that John is happy." But there are also other ways: for example, turning the verb into a gerund. Thus, in the example at hand we obtain "John's being happy." Though orthodox logic has no formal analogue of this nominalizing, such is necessary and quite standard in discussions of the semantics of propositional attitudes.[5] For our purposes, we need to assume [5] See, for example, the discussion in Montague, 1973. Note that Montague has a very sophisticated theory of the behavior of ^. What we require of the notion will be much simpler, though quite compatible with his account. In particular, on Montague's approach, ^A ≠^~A is true provided that A is not T and F at all worlds. very little about the nominalizer. All we need is an operator, which I will write as ^ (and which may be read as "that") such that if A is any sentence, ^A is a noun phrase, and therefore denotes an object. Which object it denotes, we may assume very little about. However, it is fairly clear that in some sense ^A and ^~A are opposites. (Think of John's being happy and his not being happy; or John's loving Jill and John's not loving Jill, etc.) Since an object is not the same as its opposite, it is natural to require that ^A ≠^~A. As will now be clear to those who have a modicum of logic, with the exception of the ^ operator, the above account is almost exactly the same as the orthodox one. In fact, if we were to add the condition that no sentence is assigned both T and F then we would have exactly Frege/Russell logic. Thus these semantics are a generalization of orthodox logic which just cover a case that orthodox logic ignores; and conversely, orthodox logic is just a special case of these semantics which ignores a dialectically important case. In particular, if the situation about which we are reasoning is a consistent one, so that there are no dialetheias, then classical logic is quite applicable. (The precise understanding of this claim is, however, a sensitive issue, on which see Priest, 1987, ch. 8.) Thus we may stretch Hegel's claim a little as follows: (Frege/Russell) formal logic is perfectly valid in its domain, but dialectical (dialetheic) logic is more general. But what is the domain of classical logic? An easy answer is "the consistent." But this is fairly vacuous until we have said which areas are, or may reasonably be expected to be, consistent. There may be room for debate about this, but dialecticians have had a standard line here: the static is consistent; only when change enters the picture do contradictions arise. At any rate, it is quite compatible with the claim that dialectics is based on dialetheism that dialecticians, such as Marx, should castigate other writers for contradicting themselves in certain contexts.[6] Those contexts are just not of the kind where a contradiction is to be expected. (The critical use of reductio ad absurdum is discussed further in Priest, 1986.) [6] Thus Marx: "But then he [Adam Smith] suddenly changes the whole basis of his distinction and contradicts what he started the whole investigation with a few lines earlier" (Capital, Vol. II, 273). That Marx sometimes criticizes people for being inconsistent is used against the dialetheic interpretation of dialectics by Havas, 1981. See also Norman and Sayers, 1980, 49. Dialetheic logic is certainly not dialectics; but it is quite sufficient to show that dialetheism is compatible with the rigor of a non-trivial formal logic.[7] And protected by the above considerations against the slings and arrows of outrageous logical claims, we can move on to dialectics proper. 4 Motion: An Illustration It will be useful, to start with, to give a simple illustration of the way dialetheic logic may be applied to dialectics. Let us take as an example the quotation from Hegel in section 1 above, that to be in a state of motion (or change in general) is to both be and not be in a certain spot at a certain time. Suppose a body, b, occupies a certain spot, s, at a certain time. What is the instantaneous difference between its being in motion and its being at rest? A Russell would say "none": being in motion is not an intrinsic, but a relational state. Hegel would say "consistency."[8] Let A be the sentence "b is at spot s" Then if b is at rest, A is true, and true only (T). If b is in motion, then A is true, since b does indeed occupy the spot s; but, equally, since it is in motion, it has already started to leave that spot; hence b is not still there: ~A is true. Thus A is both true and false (T and F). Whether or not Hegel was right about this is an issue I will not discuss here (see Priest, 1985). The relevant point is just that dialetheic semantics gives us a perfectly literal way of understanding what Hegel says. Some dialecticians would argue that Hegelian contradictions cannot be of the kind illustrated here. For this contradiction is a merely extensional contradiction: a logical contradiction of the form A&~A, where there is no essential connection between the conjuncts. One can, for example, infer each of A and -A from this contradiction and assert each independently. By contrast, dialectical contradictions are intensional. There is an internal relation between the conjuncts which is not captured by a mere extensional conjunction. Thus, dialectics [7] In particular, it does not "obliterate the distinction between truth and falsity" or "abandon . . . the idea of entailment and deductive argument," as Norman claims (Norman and Sayers, 1980, 49). [8] The contrast is discussed in Priest, 1985, which also elaborates on the dialetheic connections. For more formal details see Priest, 1982. lays stress on the fact that this two-fold interrelation of opposites is to be conceived, not "eclectically," as mere conjunction or succession, but dialectically, in the sense that these opposites are so far intertwined that the one cannot exist without the other. Not only do they not exclude each other, they presuppose and reciprocally condition each other. (Wetter, 1958, 340.) In particular, it is not permissible to detach either conjunct from the other and assert it, without falsifying the description. (This criticism is made in Havas, 1981.) To a certain extent this objection is simply answered. Less than the whole (relevant) truth can itself be quite misleading and give a false picture of the situation. Thus, suppose your car runs out of petrol and you ask me where the nearest garage is. If I detach and assert only the first conjunct of "There is a garage around the corner but it is closed" my answer will be highly misleading. There is a conversational implicature, to use the notion of Grice (1975), that relevant information has not been omitted. But in dialectical contexts, the distinction between something's being true (only) and its being true and false is quite crucial. Thus to assert only A when A&~A is true is equally misleading. As Hegel himself puts it (1969, Vol. I, book 1, section 1, ch. 10, 91): The commonest injustice done to a speculative [i.e., dialectical] content is to make it one-sided, that is, to give prominence only to one of the propositions into which it can be resolved. It cannot then be denied that this proposition is asserted; but the statement is just as false as it is true, for once one of the propositions is taken out of the speculative content, the other must be equally considered and stated. Nonetheless, as Hegel and most other dialecticians have stressed, dialectical contradictions are no mere "accidental" conjunctions. In some sense the contradictory conjuncts depend on each other, so that the one could not exist without the other. Thus, there should indeed be a more intimate relation between dialectical contradictories than mere extensional (external) conjunction. What this is, we will be in a position to see by section 8. 5 The History of Hegel's Dialectic I can now no longer put off the promised argument that dialectical contradictions are dialetheias, and that this notion of contradiction is the central one in dialectics. Since much of what is at issue is the interpretation of what Hegel and Marx said, no mere quoting of texts can suffice for this. I will argue historically: given the philosophical influences acting on Hegel and Marx, and what Hegel, in particular, says about them, there is no other very sensible interpretation.[9] Let us start with Hegel.[10] An important tradition that influenced Hegel was that of the medieval (and especially Christian) NeoPlatonists and their Renaissance successors (see Kolakowski, 1978, Vol I, ch. 1). But the Neo-Platonists certainly held that contradictory things were true of the One. For example, Plotinus says that it is everything and nothing, everywhere and nowhere (Ennead, V. 2, 1; see also Gilson, 1972, 43ff). Eckhart says that God is being and yet, beyond being, and thus not being (Smart, 1967, 450). Cusa says that God is the reconciliation of all opposites (De Docta Ignorantia, 1, XXII). All things are thus true (and false) of God: ... in no way do [distinctions] exist in the absolute maximum [the One]. . . . The Absolute maximum ... is all things and, whilst being all, is none of them . . . (Ibid 1, IV, in Heron, 1954, 13.) In the Neo-Platonist One (or God), which created man, finally for the latter (and, according to some, the former also) to find fulfillment in the other, Hegel saw his Absolute. As he puts it in the Lectures on the History of Philosophy (1895, 548): "The thought of totality, the intelligible world, is the concrete Idea as we have seen it with the Neo-Platonists." It is natural, then, that Hegel should also take over the idea that the Absolute is literally contradictory. Still, since more prosaic commentators will try to argue that the Neo-Platonists did not intend their contradictions literally, or, at least, that if they did, Hegel emancipated himself from the loonier aspects of his predecessors, let us move forward in time to the proximate influence on Hegel, who certainly meant contradiction when he said it, and who does not (?) have a loony fringe: Kant. [9] Some other arguments are given by Sayers, one Marxist who most certainly does mean contradiction when he says it, in Norman and Sayers, 1980 (see especially ch 4). [10] The material in the next three sections draws heavily on Priest and Routley, 1983, chs. 1 and 2, reprinted as the introductory chapters of part 1 of Priest, et ai, 1989. My account of Hegel's and Marx's dialectics here does, however, differ from that given there in some important respects. The relevant part of Kant for our purposes is the section of the Critique of Pure Reason called the Transcendental Dialectic, and in particular that part of it called the Antinomy of Pure Reason. In this, Kant produces four pairs of arguments, each for a pair of contradictory conclusions. However, neither of each pair of arguments is fallacious in any simple sense; rather, the contradictions are an outcome of reason itself (A297; B354ff; A339; B397). Now, if such arguments are sound, their conclusions are true. Thus, Kant is sailing close to the dialetheic wind. Close, perhaps, but not with. For Kant diagnoses the same subtle flaw in all of the arguments: the application of a category outside its legitimate bounds (e.g., A498, B526ff). For example, in the first argument of the first pair there is a step from "everything has a cause" to "the World (i.e., totality of existents) has a cause." Kant suggests that although the principle that every event has a cause is true, the "every" can refer only to objects "given to us in intuition," that is, experienced. The World, being an unbounded totality, is not given to us in this way, but merely apprehended by reason. The crux of Kant's position is that reason and its categories are dependent for content upon experience. Indeed, that is what he takes the antinomies to show. It is difficult to find direct arguments for this assumption, other than some very strong form of positivism (such as Hume's). And once this is rejected and reason, far from being parasitic on experience, is admitted to lead a life of its own Kant's position on the antinomies collapses. Reason, by unimpeachable arguments, produces contradictions, which must therefore be true. This is exactly the line that Kant's successors took. In virtue of the centrality of this for the point at issue, I will quote Hegel on the matter at some length. Discussing Kant, he says (1975, section 48, 76-77): In the attempt which reason makes to comprehend the unconditioned nature of the World, it falls into what are called Antinomies. In other words, it maintains two opposite propositions about the same object, and in such a way that each of them has to be maintained with equal necessity. From this it follows that the body of cosmical fact, the specific statements descriptive of which run into contradiction, cannot be a self-subsistent reality, but only an appearance. The explanation offered by Kant alleges that the contradiction does not affect the object in its proper essence, but attaches only to the Reason which seeks to comprehend it. In this way the suggestion was broached that the contradiction is occasioned by the subject-matter itself, or by the intrinsic quality of the categories. And to offer the idea that the contradiction introduced into the world of Reason by the categories of the Understanding is inevitable and essential was to make one of the most important steps in the progress of Modern Philosophy. But the more important the issue thus raised, the more trivial the solution. Its only motive was an excessive tenderness for the things of the world. The blemish of contradiction, it seems, could not be allowed to mar the essence of the world; but there could be no objection to attaching it to the thinking Reason, to the essence of mind. Probably nobody will feel disposed to deny that the phenomenal world presents contradictions to the observing mind; meaning by "phenomenal" the world as it presents itself to the senses and understanding, to the subjective mind. But if a comparison is instituted between the essence of world and the essence of mind, it does seem strange to hear how calmly and confidently the modest dogma has been advanced by one, and repeated by others, that thought or Reason, and not the World, is the seat of contradiction. It is no escape to turn round and explain that Reason falls into contradictions only by applying the categories. For this application of the categories is maintained to be necessary. . . . Thus, Kant's evasion of the contradictions is not on. These must be true of the World. That there are true contradictions was also concluded by the last of the influences on Hegel that I will consider, Fichte. Fichte, like Hegel, started from Kant, and like Hegel criticized the Kantian postulation of the thing-in-itself (Taylor, 1975, 36, 77). This left only the other part of the Kantian ontology: the transcendental ego. The nature of the ego, or self, is to think; but there is nothing to think about except itself; and it is impossible to think something unless there is something else to contrast it with. (So at least thought Fichte.) Hence, the self had to create something different, the non-self, against which it could conceive itself. (This is precisely Reason leading a life of its own.) It therefore produces contradiction. Specifically, the non-self must also be self, since nothing else exists. As Fichte puts it (quoting from Heath and Lachs, 1982, section 3, 106): ". . . insofar as the not-self is posited [in the self], the self is not posited in the self; but "... insofar as the not-self is to be posited [in the self], the self must be posited therein." Thus, the self is both posited and not posited, and the posited is both self and not-self. Or, more pithily, as Fichte puts it a few lines later: self = not-self and not-self = self. As regular readers of Fichte will know, the story ends happily. The self (thesis), by its cunning postulation of the not-self (antithesis), comes to understand what it is, viz. both, and the two live together happily ever after (synthesis), even giving birth to a new little antithesis, which perpetuates the tradition. Hegel, of course, criticized Fichte. But his only criticisms were, essentially, twofold: first, that Fichte had not elevated the transcendental ego into something grander, Geist; and second, that he had misunderstood the nature and significance of the final synthesis (1895, 499). This aside, Hegel took over Fichte's dialectic wholesale, and, particularly for present purposes, the contradictory nature of the alienated state of the self. As Hegel himself, though hardly pellucidly, put it (1895, 549-50): ... in being self-conscious [self-consciousness] is independent, but still in this independence it has a negative relation to what is outside self-consciousness. This is infinite subjectivity, which appears at one time as the critique of thought in the case of Kant, and at another time, in the case of Fichte, as the tendency or impulse towards the concrete. Absolute, pure, infinite form is expressed as self-consciousness, the Ego. . . . Self-consciousness thus . . . recognizes its positive relation as its negative, and its negative as its positive, or , in other words, recognizes these opposite activities as the same, i.e., it recognizes pure Thought or Being as self-identity, and this again as separation. Hegel's dialetheism is therefore established. 6 Contradiction in Hegel's Dialectic This being so, let us now look at the central role that dialetheias play in his dialectics. It will be useful to distinguish three aspects of Hegel's dialectic. First, there is the fundamental movement of Geist. I will call this the global dialectic. Then there are the local developments by which this is achieved. One of these concerns the development of the categories; the other concerns the development of people and societies. I will call these the logical and historical dialectics respectively. The global dialectic is Hegel's version of Fichte. The transcendental ego, or spirit (Geist) as it has become, has as its essence, or telos, to think. Since it is all there is, it must think about itself. And since it cannot do this without a contrast, it must create its opposite, nature (Taylor, 1975, 89). Exactly as with Fichte, this generates a situation that is literally contradictory. For spirit, s, is then both spirit and not spirit. In the notation of section 3: (s=s)&(s≠s). Alternatively, nature, n, which is not spirit, is spirit: (n≠s)&(n=s). The existence (truth) of this contradiction allows spirit to think (understand) what it is: spirit and nature, spirit and not spirit; and thus to achieve its telos, in which form it is the Absolute. It should be noted that the Absolute is still a contradictory state. Nature and spirit do not annihilate each other; each still exists, requiring the other. In the final state of the dialectic, the contradiction is said to be resolved; or aufgehoben; but as Hegel is often at pains to point out, the state which is aufgehoben continues to exist. Resolution, in this context, is more like the resolution of a puzzle: we know the answer. The puzzle does not cease to be a puzzle; it just ceases to puzzle us. (A riddle is still a riddle even if we all know the answer.) The achievement of the Absolute in the global dialectic is not, however, arrived at in a trice. Rather, the production of a category that allows spirit to think itself is achieved only after a period of conceptual evolution, the logical dialectic. The most primitive category, being, produces a contradiction. This contradiction produces a novel category, which is itself contradictory. This, in turn, produces a novel category. And so it goes, until we arrive at the Absolute Idea (Taylor, 1975, 339) a category which applies to the biggest contradiction of them all, the Absolute. This allows thought to think itself. The inspiration for the logical dialectic is Kant's Antinomy of Pure Reason. As we noted in the last section, Hegel concluded that the principles of reason which govern the use of the categories in Kant's antinomies entail a contradiction: the categories are therefore inconsistent. Moreover, the Kantian antinomies are, for Hegel, but the tip of an iceberg. All categories or at least all the important ones are contradictory. It is just this which produces the logical dialectic. (See Taylor's excellent discussion of all this; Taylor, 1975, 228.) The arguments used in the Logic to show that the various categories are inconsistent are a motley and rather unconvincing crew. The same may be said of the ways in which the contradictions in one category give rise to another. However, it may help to illustrate the process with one example, that of being and becoming (Hegel, 1969, Vol. I, book 1, section 1, ch. 1). Consider being. If something, a, were merely to be, that is, to have no properties other than being, then there would be nothing to distinguish it from an object that has no properties at all, i.e., that is not. It would therefore both be and not be, Ba&~Ba (where B is the one place predicate of being). Thus, we are led to a category of things, a, whose being is their non-being ^Ba=^~Ba. These are the things that are coming into being or out of it. (Recall the discussion of change in section 4.) This is therefore the category of becoming. The logical dialectic, though a development, is not a process in time. It is, however, connected with one that is. For spirit is embodied in nature, and, particularly, humankind and its social institutions; and these change in the historical dialectic. Each social institution, being a fragment of Geist, reflects its properties to a certain extent. (Rather as the whole of an image is visible in any fragment of a hologram.) In particular, it is contradictory. Thus, it also has its own telos which it must try to achieve by producing a contradictory state. However, unlike the similar maneuver with the whole, this maneuver results in the destruction and replacement of the situation. Contradictions are therefore fatal to parts of the whole (finite beings); not so the whole itself (Taylor, 1975, 105ff). It follows that the state which succeeds the old does not transcend (aufhebt) it in quite the same way that the Absolute transcends the spirit/nature contradiction. In particular, the old contradiction is no longer true (though new ones will be). Hegel's most famous example of this kind of situation is that of the master/slave relationship (Taylor, 1975, 153-7). At a certain stage, people need the recognition of others for their development (telos). Since they have not learned to cooperate properly, the only way that this recognition may be achieved is by force. Others must be enslaved and made to recognize. But the enslavement of others dehumanizes them; and thus, even if they are forced to recognize the master, they cannot provide the recognition that the master requires. By a dialectical irony, however, the situation does provide for the development of the slave. For the slave, unlike the master, is required to labor. Because of this, the slave gains control over the world, which is freedom. Moreover, the slave lives in a precarious position: at any moment he may be killed; thus his self-awareness is heightened, and he becomes aware of his freedom. This paves the way for the overthrow of the slavery. Before the overthrow, the state of the slave is literally a contradictory one: he is both free and bound (not free). The contradictory state of forced labor has, of course, been stressed by Marxists, and we will take this up in the next section. But perhaps the person who has brought out the contradictory nature of the freedom produced by oppression most vividly is Sartre. For example, he says (1949, 12, my translation): Never have we been freer than under the German occupation. We had lost all our rights, and primarily that of speaking; we were insulted to our faces every day and we had to be silent. We were deported en masse, as workers, as Jews, as political prisoners; everywhere on walls, in newspapers, on the screen, we would meet the vile and insipid face that our oppressors wished to give us of ourselves: Because of all that we were free. Since the Nazi poison slipped into our very thoughts, every pure thought was a victory; since an all-powerful police sought to constrain us to silence, each word became precious, like a declaration of principle; since we were surrounded, each gesture carried the weight of a commitment. . . . It is likely to be objected that this contradictory state is not literally so, since the oppressed person is free and bound in different respects. More generally, it is often claimed that dialectically contradictory states are never dialetheias since the apparently contradictory predicates are true in different respects (see, e.g., Norman and Sayers, 1980, 30-1). Several points are relevant here. The first is that the general claim has little going for it. There is nothing to support it save a dogmatic assertion that dialetheias are impossible. Moreover, this is the first contradiction we have met where this charge looks even remotely plausible. Secondly, however, it must be admitted that some contradictions signaled by dialecticians do seem to be only apparent contradictions, the appearance being dispelled once the respects in which the contradictory predicates apply are spelled out. The third point is that, despite this, the charge that a contradiction is only apparent it often much harder to make stick than is supposed. The quotation from Sartre illustrates this. What are the senses in which the occupied people were free and not? They were not free in that they could not, because of the occupation, do exactly as they chose. But, as Sartre stressed, this made them realize that they could do exactly as they chose. But this is no consistent disambiguation: it is just as contradictory. One may be tempted to say that they were not free in the sense that, though they could do exactly as they chose, they would be punished for doing many of the things they wanted to do. But this is just playing fast and loose with the notion of doing as one chooses. The situation where one must be silent or be shot is a paradigm of one which would correctly be described as involving no real choice. The trouble here is that the notion of having a choice does not have the crystal precision of, e.g., mathematical predicates. We use several criteria for deciding whether a free choice is made. Each is normally sufficient for the correct attribution of the phrase; yet sometimes these may not all line up on the same side of the field. And if they do, the only adequate description of the situation may well be a contradictory one. Neither will it do to insist that the many criteria of application show that the phrase is ipso facto ambiguous. For quite unambiguous phrases, such as "has a temperature of 700°C," may have many different criteria of application; and these are by no means logically guaranteed coincidence.[11] Thus, a summary dismissal of putative contradictions on the grounds of "difference in respect" is quite superficial. 7 Contradiction in Marx's Dialectics Having discussed Hegel, let us now turn to Marx, who inherited his dialectic from Hegel. Marx's dialectic involves a somewhat radical re-interpretation of Hegel's, and certainly has a rather different emphasis. But structurally, it is very similar. We may, as in Hegel, distinguish between the global dialectic and the two local dialectics, logical and historical. Under the influence of Feuerbach, the young Marx reinterpreted Hegel's Geist as Man or, better, humanity. Hegel's global dialectic therefore became the dialectic of humanity. To be a person is to have a certain telos, which is selfdevelopment. This is to be achieved not by thinking, but by working, labor. But the labor alienates itself and comes to exist in contradiction to people. Alienated labor (objectified labor) is, of course, just capital (essentially the heart of the labor theory of value) existing as private [11] For a further discussion of contradiction and multicriterial terms, see Priest and Routley, 1983, ch. 3, section 1, and ch. 5, section 2. These chapters are reprinted as the introductions to parts 2 and 4 of Priest, et ai, 1989. property. Thus we have the fundamental contradiction between people (labor) and capital (dead labor). The contradiction is resolved by the production of a communist society where private property disappears, people labor for themselves, thus fulfilling their telos. Despite the re-interpretation, the similarity with Hegel is obvious. Moreover, as in Hegel, the alienated state is literally a contradictory one. Humanity, h, while still being humanity, h=h, loses its essence ("species life"), becomes dehumanized. Thus, humanity is not humanity, h≠h. Marx sometimes makes the point, not with respect to humanity, but with respect to its essential, defining, characteristic: labor. For example, he says (1977, 110): Estrangement [Alienation] is manifested not only in the fact that my means of life belong to someone else . . . but also in the fact that everything is itself something different from itself that my activity [labor] is something else - ... Of course, the labor is still my activity; otherwise it would not be different from itself. Thus the labor is both identical to itself and different from itself: (l=l)&(l≠l). The most important structural difference between Hegel's and Marx's dialectics for the present concern is that in the final stage of Marx's dialectic the resolution of the contradiction actually removes it; there is no contradiction between labor and capital in a communist society. Marx's discussion of the global dialectic occurs mainly in his earlier works, and especially the Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts. (But see also Capital, Vol. I, ch. 32.) His discussion of the local dialectics is more prominent in the later works, notably the Grundrisse and Capital Of these dialectics, the logical dialectic is perhaps of lesser importance. In his logical dialectic, Hegel deduced the categories of Thought by considering the contradictions in each. In the same way, Marx deduces categories, but this time they are the categories of Man, and particularly of economics. This is most evident in the early chapters of Vol. I of Capital Starting with the basic notion of a commodity, Marx arrives at the notions of money, capital and so on. (See the excellent discussion in Ilyenkov, 1960, ch. 5; see also Ilyenkov, 1977, essay 10.) How plausible all this is I need not discuss, but an example will clarify the situation: Marx's deduction of the notion of money from that of the commodity. Human artifacts may be used or they may be exchanged. But if they are being used they are not being exchanged, and vice versa. Marx records this by saying that an object, a, may be a use value, Ua, or an (exchange) value, Va, but not both, ~(Ua&Va): "The same commodity cannot, therefore, simultaneously appear in both forms in the same expression of value. These forms exclude each other as polar opposites" (1976, 140). But in the exchange of a commodity, the commodity is related to another as both use and (exchange) value; it is therefore both: Ua&Va. The contradictory property is acquired at the point of (ex)change (1976, 152): A commodity is a use-value or object of utility, and a "value." It appears as the two-fold thing that it really is as soon as its value possesses its own particular form of manifestation, which is distinct from its natural form. This form of manifestation is exchange value, and the commodity never has this form when looked at in isolation, but only when it is a value-relation or exchange relation with a second commodity of a different kind. Thus we are led to the existence of something, a, whose being a use value is exactly its being an (exchange) value ^Ua=^Va, money, which mediates and therefore allows the exchange relation (1976, 198): We saw . . . that the exchange of commodities implies contradictory and mutually exclusive conditions. The further development of the commodity does not abolish these contradictions, but rather provides the form within which they have room to move. This is, in general, the way in which real contradictions are resolved. The historical local dialectic is undoubtedly the most important one in Marx's later writings. Each social practice or institution has a telos (now thought of as an immanent tendency). The realization of this forces it into a contradictory state, which cannot be sustained; whence it disappears. Perhaps the most famous example of this is the contradiction between the forces of production and the relations of production in the Preface to the Critique of Political Economy. The forces of production have a certain telos. In order to fulfill this, at a certain stage in their development, they produce the social relations of capitalism. But ultimately the forces undercut those very relations, which therefore cease. The capitalist state of affairs is literally a contradictory one for Marx. In fact, it realizes a number of contradictions. For example, production is social and yet private (Capital, Vol. II, ch. 27); and the laborers (like Hegel's slaves) are both free and bound. Again, the accusation may be leveled that these states are not literally contradictory, since the contradictory predicates are true in different respects. In response to this, the points made in reply to the same charge against Hegel are pertinent. The charge may have some justice; but to suppose that this is always so is just wishful thinking. In the last section we saw that it was not so easy to separate freedom from bondage in the case of the slave. This point will be reinforced if we consider Marx's analysis of the similar predicament of the wage-slave. For the freedom of the wage-laborer is not separable from his bondage, but is inextricably bound up with it. As Marx explains, it is the nature of his labor which makes the laborer both bound and free, so that his freedom is his bondage. With unemployment on a world scale a chronic reality, with the miserable cry of the perpetually unemployed ringing in our ears, the following words of Marx have an unmistakable verisimilitude ("Adam Smith: Work as Sacrifice," Marx, 1973, 611): In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou labour! was Jehova's curse on Adam. And this is labour for [Adam] Smith, a curse. "Tranquillity" appears as the adequate state, as identical with "freedom" and "happiness." It seems quite far from Smith's mind that the individual, "in his normal state of health, strength, activity, skill, facility," also needs a normal portion of work, and of the suspension of tranquility. Certainly, labour obtains its measure from outside, through the aim to be attained and the obstacles to be overcome in attaining it. But Smith has no inkling whatever that this overcoming of obstacles is in itself a liberating activity and that, further, the external aims become stripped of the semblance of merely external natural urgencies, and become posited as aims which the individual himself posits hence as self-realisation, objectification of the subject, hence real freedom, whose action is, precisely, labour. He is right, of course, that, in its historic forms as slave-labour, serflabour and wage-labour, labour always appears as repulsive, always as external forced labour; and not-labour, by contrast, as "freedom and happiness." This holds doubly: for this contradictory labour. . . The forced but self-creating nature of wage-labor is not the only criterial tension existing in this contradiction. There is also that between the legal position and the harsh reality of the laborer's situation. Again Marx (1976, ch. 10, 415-6): It must be acknowledged that our worker emerges from the process of production looking differently from when he entered it. In the market, as owner of a commodity "labour power," he stood face to face with other owners of commodities, one owner against another owner. The contract by which he sold his labour power to the capitalist proved in black and white, so to speak, that he was free to dispose of himself. But when the transaction was concluded, it was discovered that he was no "free agent," that the period of time for which he is free to sell his labour-power is the period of time for which he is forced to sell it, that in fact the vampire will not let go "while there remains a single muscle, sinew, drop of blood, to be exploited." For "protection" against the serpent of their agonies, the workers have to put their heads together and, as a class, compel the passing of a law, an all-powerful social barrier by which they can be prevented from selling themselves and their families into slavery and death by voluntary contract with capital. These tensions in the criteria for freedom mean that the only accurate way of describing the wage-laborer's situation is as being both free and not free. The quotations make it quite clear what considerations ground each of these attributions; but it in no way follows that freedom falls apart neatly into different aspects, like an over-cooked chicken. Rather, as with a raw chicken, separation can only be done by violence. Before we leave Marx, a word about Engels. Engels has a much plainer literary style than either Marx or Hegel. Because of this he is, of the three, the one whose commitment to dialetheism is least gainsayable. Thus, he says (1975, ch. 12, 139, 140): Motion itself is a contradiction: even simple mechanical change of place can only come about through a body at one and the same moment of time being both in a place and in another place, being in one and the same place and also not in it. Life consists precisely in this, that a living thing is at each moment itself and yet something else. Life itself, therefore, is a contradiction that is objectively present in things and processes, and is constantly asserting and resolving itself. Engels' evident dialetheism has not found favor with those who have wanted to interpret dialectics in such a way as to write out its dialetheism. This has led to criticism, and even some abuse, from western writers: Engels' views are crude and unsophisticated. It should be clear now that this does Engels a great injustice; his views on contradiction are no different from those of Hegel and Marx: he just expresses them in a language that the man on the Clapham omnibus can understand. Where Engels is due for some censure is in his enthusiasm for seeing contradiction where it does not exist an enthusiasm which has carried over to many subsequent Marxists. For example, the claim that the square root of -1 is a contradictory entity (1975, 141) demonstrates an unfortunate naivete about mathematics. (Though modern critics should remember that he, unlike they, had not had the opportunity to read Weierstrass, Dedekind and the other 19th-century mathematicians who helped sort out the morass in the foundations of analysis.) Even in seeing contradictions under the bed, however, Engels was merely accentuating a tendency that was already present in the subject. Hegel was already straining to show that many of the so-called contradictions in the local dialectics are literally so; and Marx was never one to let pedantry get in the way of a good bit of rhetoric (Poverty of Philosophy, ch. 2, section 5, quoting from McLellan, 1977, 215): Meanwhile the antagonism between the proletariat and the bourgeois is a struggle of class against class, a struggle which carried out to its highest expression is total revolution. Indeed, is it at all surprising that a society founded on the opposition of classes should culminate in brutal contradiction, the shock of body against body, as its final denoument? 8 Identity in Difference Having discussed the occurence and role of dialetheias in Marx's and Hegel's dialectics, I now want to return to the question, left hanging at the end of section 4, of the exact nature of dialectical contradictions. Many of the dialetheias that we have come across in the preceding discussion are of the form (a=b)&(a≠b), something's being both identical with, and different from something (else?). This is Hegel's (in)famous notion of identity in difference (Taylor, 1975, 80). Though many have been puzzled by this notion it is, as we see, quite transparent once one ceases to try to reinterpret Hegel in a consistent fashion. I will now argue that this is the form of a dialectical contradiction, to which all others reduce. First, we have met contradictions of the form (a=a)&(a≠a). These are obviously of this form. Another main form of contradiction that we have come across in the preceding sections is where a thing is identical with its opposite: ^A=^~A Thus, for example, that something, a, is free (Fa) is identical to its being bound (not free): ^Fa=^~Fa. This, too, is a special form of identity in difference. For, as we noted in section 3, it is always true that ^A≠^~A. Thus, identity of opposites is just the identity in difference (^A=^~A)&(^A≠^~A). In fact, the identity of opposites ^A=^~A is doubly contradictory, since it also gives rise to the contradiction A&~A. For either A or ~A; without loss of generality, suppose the former. Then AA is true, by the T-scheme (^A is true iff A). But if ^A = ^~A, ^A is true implies ^~A is true (by the substitutivity of identicals). Hence ^~A is true too. It follows that ~A, again by the T-scheme. Thus, both A and ~A. Some doubt may be cast on this argument by the fact that it uses the law of excluded middle, Av~A, a law of logic that Hegel sometimes shoots at. But first, note that the law is quite valid on the semantics of section 3, as I noted there. Secondly, when Hegel does shoot at the law, it is not because he thinks it fails to be true; in fact it "is so trivial, it is hardly worth the trouble of saying it" (1969, Vol. I, book 2, section 1, eh. 2C, 438). Rather, it is because it may be false (as well)! Two particular cases of the identity of opposites are worth commenting on. First, Hegel often describes identity in difference by saying that something's being identical with itself is its being different from itself. This is just the identity of opposites (^a=a) = (^a≠a). Secondly, to return to the dialectics of motion that we discussed in section 4, this, too, can be seen as a case of the identity of opposites. For we may take the instantaneous contradiction produced in a state of motion to be that the body's being in a certain place is its not being in that place, ^A=^~A. This will imply that it both is and is not in that place, A&~A, as I have just observed. Moreover, because this type of contradiction is identified as a state of change, it is natural to describe any state of the form ^A=^~A as a state where ^A is changing into its opposite ^~A, or vice versa. Thus, the identity of opposites is frequently described in this way, as, for example, the opposites going over into each other. We have now seen that all the dialectical contradictions we have met are instances of identity in difference: (a=b)&(a≠b). We may therefore take this to be the general form of a dialectical contradiction. This is an excellent way of doing justice to the point we noted in section 4, that the poles of a dialectical contradiction must have a tighter relation than mere extensional conjunction. For the poles of the identity in difference (a=b)&(a≠b), a and b, are actually identical with (though different from) each other; (dialectical) identity is therefore the relationship between the poles of a dialectical contradiction. 9 Dialectics and Epistemology I have discussed the role and form of contradiction in dialectics. There is, of course, much more to dialectics than this. Much of the interest in Hegel's and Marx's dialectics is in their analyses of the nature of concrete contradictory situations. Moreover, the identity in difference of various notions, such as being and nothingness, matter and consciousness, freedom and necessity have many consequences and ramifications. I cannot hope to explore them all here, in what is already a very long paper. But let me, as a taste, explore briefly one example: that of being-in-itself and being-in-consciousness. (This is taken from Sayers, 1985, part 1, where a full and non-formal discussion may be found.) An object, a, may exist in consciousness Ca, or out of consciousness (in itself), ~Ca. Let us write c for ^Ca, its being in consciousness, and c* for its being in itself, ^~Ca. Suppose that these are related by the identity in difference of opposites: (c=c*)&(c≠c*). Then various people in the history of philosophy have seen only one side of this contradiction, and have thus landed themselves in awkward philosophical problems. Dualists (such as Locke) argued that the thing in itself and the thing in consciousness are merely distinct c≠c*. This raises the problem of how knowledge is possible, since there is, ipso facto, no way of turning the object of knowledge, the thing in itself, into the object of consciousness. Non-dialectical monists, on the other hand, argued merely that c=c*. This position comes in two varieties. Traditional idealists (such as Berkeley) denied the autonomous existence of a mind-independent reality, and thus wished to reduce c* to c. This leads to a variety of insoluble problems concerning the objectivity of knowledge, the problem of other minds, etc. Traditional materialists (such as central state materialists) by contrast, denied the autonomous existence of matter-independent thought, and thus tried to reduce c to c*. This leads to a variety of problems; for example, those stressed by functionalists, but more crucially, those posed by the phenomenological aspects of thought (which still plague functionalism). The dialectical monist, however, has seen both sides of the contradiction. Like the traditional dualist they assert the distinctness of c and c*, and thus avoid the problems associated with either of the reductionist programs. Like the traditional monist, however, they assert the identity of c and c*, thus avoiding the problem of the disjuncture between the two. The contradiction c=c*, indeed, marks the transition of the object in itself into consciousness, and thus of cognition itself. Thus, the dialectical monist sees the recognition of the identity in difference of the thing-within-consciousness and the thing-withoutconsciousness, (c=c*)&(c≠c*), as central to an adequate understanding of the nature of cognition. There is an objection here reminiscent of Eulathus' famous reply to Protagoras; namely that since the dialectical monist asserts that c=£c* then they are still stuck with the distinction between c and c*; and since they assert that c=c* they must still have the problem of reducing one to the other. Thus the contradictory position gives rise to the worst of both positions, not the best. Though the reply is a clever one, it does not work. For it is not the mere fact that c≠c* that gives rise to the problem for the dualist, but the fact that there is no way of bridging the gap between the two poles. For the dialectical monist, this bridge is provided by the contradiction, which marks the transition of the object into consciousness. And the mere fact that one accepts that c=c* does not require one to reduce either to the other. Indeed, given that they are also distinct, there should be no temptation to do this. 10 Conclusion With this rather brief look at an application of dialectics, which shows very clearly the dialetheic nature of dialectics, I will end. Knowledgeable dialecticians will, in a sense, have learned nothing much from this paper: a rose, by any other name, is a rose; yet a rose, by another name, might be decidedly misleading; I hope, at any rate, that dialecticians will at least have learned from this paper that it is a spade that is called "a spade."[12] The University of Queensland Queensland, Australia [12] 1 am grateful for comments on an earlier draft of this paper to Richard Campbell, Uwe Petersen and especially Sean Sayers. Part of that draft was read at the second Hegel conference at the University of Newcastle, New South Wales, November 1986. REFERENCES Acton, H. B. 1967a. "Hegel." In Edwards, 1967, Vol. Ill, 435-451. Acton, H. B. 1967b. "Dialectical Materialism." In Edwards, 1967, Vol. II, 389397. Colletti, L. 1975. "Marxism and the Dialectic." New Left Review, 93, 3-29. Comey, D. 1966. "Current Trends in Soviet Logic." Inquiry, 9. 94-108. Cornforth, M. 1971. Materialism and the Dialectical Method. New York: International Publishers. Edwards, P., ed. 1967. Encyclopaedia of Philosophy. London: Macmillan. Engels, F. 1975 (1894). Anti-Dühring. Moscow: Progress Publishers. Gilson, E. 1972. L'être et l'essence. Vrin. Grice, H. 1975. "Logic and Conversation." In The Logic of Grammar, eds. D. Davidson and G. Harman. Dickenson, 64-75. Havas, K. 1981. "Some Remarks on an Attempt at Formalising Dialectical Logic." Studies in Soviet Thought, 22, 257-64. Heath, P. and J. Lachs, transi. 1982. Science of Knowledge. Cambridge University Press. Hegel, G. W. F. 1895 (1840). Lectures on the History of Philosophy. Vol. III. London: Kegan Paul, Trench and Trübner. Hegel, G. W. F. 1969 (1812). The Science of Logic. London: Allen and Unwin. Hegel, G. W. F. 1975 (1830). Lesser Logic. London: Oxford University Press. Heron, G., transi. 1954. De Docta Ignoratia. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Ilyenkov, E. V. 1982 (1960). The Dialectics of the Abstract and the Concrete in Marx's Capital. Moscow: Progress Publishers. Ilyenkov, E. V. 1977 (1974). Dialectical Logic. Moscow: Progress Publishers. Kolakowski, L. 1978. Main Currents of Marxism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lobkowicz, N. 1961. "The Principle of Contradiction in Recent Soviet Philosophy." Studies in Soviet Philosophy, 1, 44-49. Marx, K. 1973 (1858). Grundrisse. New York: Penguin. Marx, K. 1976 (1867). Capital. Vol. I. New York: Penguin. Marx, K. 1977 (1844). Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts. Moscow: Progress Publishers. Marx, K. 1978 (1885). Capital, Vol II. New York: Penguin. McLellan, D., ed. 1977. Karl Marx: Selected Writings. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Montague, R. 1973. "The Proper Treatment of Quantification in Ordinary English." In Approaches to Natural Language: Proceedings of the Stanford Workshop on Grammar and Semantics, eds. J. Hintikka, et al Reidel. Narskii, I. 1965. "The Problem of Contradiction in Mechanical Motion and the Discussion in Filosofskie Nauki." Studies in Soviet Philosophy, 4, 24-33. Narskii, I. 1970. "Hegel and Contemporary Logic." Studies in Soviet Philosophy, 8, 355-373. Norman, R., and S. Sayers. 1980. Hegel, Marx and Dialectic: A Debate. Harvester Press. Popper, K. 1940. "What is Dialectic?" Mind, 49. 403-26. Reprinted as ch. 15 of K. Popper, Conjectures and Refutations, Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1963. Priest, G. 1979. "Logic of Paradox." Journal of Philosophical Logic, 8, 219-41. Priest, G. 1982. "To Be and Not to Be: Dialectical Tense Logic." Studia Logica, 41, 249-68. Priest, G. 1985. "Inconsistencies in Motion." American Philosophical Quarterly, 22, 339-46. Priest, G. 1986. "Contradiction, Belief and Rationality." Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 86, 99-116. Priest, G. 1987. In Contradiction. Nijhoff. Priest, G., and R. Routley. 1983. On Paraconsistency. Research Report 13, Department of Philosophy, Research School of Social Sciences, Australian National University. Priest, G., and R. Routley. 1984. "Introduction: Paraconsistent Logics." Studia Logica, 43, 3-16. Priest, G., et al, eds. 1989. Paraconsistent Logics. Philosophia Verlag. Sartre, J.-P. 1949. Situation, III. Gallimard. Sayers, S. 1985. Reality and Reason: Dialectic and the Theory of Knowledge. Blackwell. Sheptulin, A. P. 1978. Marxist-Leninist Philosophy. Moscow: Progress Publishers. Smart, N. 1967. "Eckhart, Meister." In Edwards, 1967, Vol. II, 449-451. Taylor, C. 1975. Hegel London: Cambridge University Press. Wetter, G. A. 1958. Dialectical Materialism. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Filozofiawpraktyce.pl (04.05.2016) Moralna niepewność w argumentacji bioetycznej Tomasz Żuradzki Niektórzy twierdzą, że nawet jeśli ktoś nie wierzy, że embriony lub płody ludzkie mają jakiś szczególnie wyróżniony status moralny, to z ostrożności powinien traktować je tak, jak gdyby miały pełny status moralny. Pokażę, dlaczego takie rozumowanie jest niepoprawne. Zacznijmy od kilku przykładów. Barbara Chyrowicz w książce Bioetyka. Anatomia sporu wydanej w 2015 r. przez wydawnictwo Znak pisze tak: w sytuacjach, w których ktoś nie ma pewności, że niszczy życie ludzkiej istoty (dotyczy to np. niszczenia ludzkich zarodków), winien zakładać, że ma z nią do czynienia z uwagi na rangę wartości życia ludzkiego. Marian Machinek w dyskusji internetowej Polskiego Towarzystwa Bioetycznego przypomniał często przywoływany przykład, mający stanowić analogię do niszczenia embrionów ludzkich (sugerując jednocześnie, że właściwa odpowiedź na poniższe pytanie jest negatywna): Jeżeli, będąc na polowaniu, nie mogę z jakichś powodów rozstrzygnąć, czy poruszający się w zaroślach brunatny kształt jest tropionym zwierzęciem, czy też ubranym w brązową kurtkę człowiekiem, czy wolno mi pociągnąć za spust? Z kolei Robert Plich w niedawnym wywiadzie dla portalu Jagielloński24 stwierdził: Aborcja byłaby moralnie dopuszczalna jedynie wówczas, gdyby istniała absolutna pewność, że ludzki embrion nie jest człowiekiem. Takiej pewności nie można uzyskać na gruncie rzetelnego rozumowania naturalnego, stąd brak takiej pewności stanowi wystarczające minimum dla moralnego i prawnego zakazu aborcji. Argument ten, nazwijmy go argumentem z niepewności normatywnej (ANN), jest kluczowy dla obecnej doktryny Kościoła katolickiego, który w drugiej połowie XIX w. przyjął, że „embrion ludzki od samego początku ma godność właściwą osoby". Choć godność ta wynikać ma z obdarzenia przez Boga nieśmiertelną duszą rozumną, to Kościół nie zajmuje obecnie jednoznacznego stanowiska na temat chwili animacji, czyli momentu, w którym Bóg wciela duszę. Wbrew rozpowszechnionym opiniom Kościół wcale nie utrzymuje dziś, że dzieje się to w momencie zapłodnienia. W Deklaracji o przerywaniu ciąży z 1974 r. Kongregacja Nauki Wiary stwierdziła: Deklaracja ta świadomie nie podkreśla problemu chwili animacji. Nie ma bowiem co do tego jednobrzmiącej tradycji i autorzy współcześni jeszcze różnią się między sobą. Jedni twierdzą, że animacja następuje w pierwszej fazie życia [czyli w chwili zapłodnienia – TŻ], drudzy, że dopiero wtedy, gdy zarodek zatrzyma się we właściwym miejscu [czyli w momencie implantacji zarodka ok. 7-10 dni po zapłodnieniu – TŻ]. Skoro sama Kongregacja nie ma pewności, że wczesne embriony mają duszę, to dlaczego nakazuje traktować je tak, jak gdyby ją miały? W encyklice Evangelium Vitae z 1995 r. czytamy: samo prawdopodobieństwo istnienia osoby wystarczyłoby dla usprawiedliwienia najbardziej kategorycznego zakazu wszelkich interwencji zmierzających do zabicia embrionu ludzkiego. Mamy więc do czynienia z argumentem typu ANN: nawet jeśli nie wiemy, kiedy Bóg wciela duszę, to i tak powinniśmy traktować wczesne embriony tak, jak gdyby ją miały. Z tego typu argumentacją wiąże się szereg fascynujących problemów filozoficznych. Kilka z nich omówiłem w artykułach w czasopismach „Diametros" oraz „Theoretical Medicine and Bioethics", a także w tekście, który wkrótce ukaże się w „Studies in Logic and Argumentation". Po pierwsze, argument typu ANN, inspirowany stanowiskiem potępionego przez Watykan w XVII w. tucjoryzmu lub rygoryzmu, zakłada skrajną wersję zasady ostrożności: działanie nie jest moralnie dopuszczalne, jeśli wiąże się z niezerowym ryzykiem zabicia osoby (lub czegoś, co może być osobą). Stanowisko to kłóci się jednak z powszechnie akceptowanymi – także wedle katolickiej doktryny moralnej – praktykami, w wyniku których niekiedy giną ludzie (począwszy od jeżdżenia samochodami, a na podawaniu lekarstw kończąc). Przyjęliśmy uważać, że w praktykach tych nie ma nic złego, jeśli tylko prawdopodobieństwo zabicia osoby w wyniku jednostkowego aktu danego typu jest odpowiednio niskie. Po drugie, ANN nie uwzględnia istotnych różnic pomiędzy niepewnością na temat faktów a niepewnością normatywną. Andrew Sepielli z Uniwersytetu w Toronto zwrócił uwagę na to, że uwzględnienie niepewności normatywnej pierwszego rzędu prowadzi do regresu w nieskończoność: przecież możemy się mylić także na temat samych kryteriów podejmowania decyzji w sytuacji niepewności. Problem ten najlepiej oddaje tytuł jego niedawnego artykułu w czasopiśmie „Noûs": Co robić, kiedy nie wiesz, co robić, kiedy nie wiesz, co robić... Z kolei Brian Weatherson z Uniwersytetu Michigan zauważył w artykule opublikowanym w „Philosophical Studies" problematyczność motywacji wynikającej nie z troski o innych, ale z jakiejś metadoktryny dotyczącej kryteriów podejmowania decyzji w sytuacji niepewności moralnej. Akceptując ANN ludzie troszczą się nie o innych ludzi (czy inne istoty zasługujące na naszą troskę), ale wyłącznie o to, by postępować moralnie słusznie. Po trzecie, ANN bezkrytycznie stosuje model rozumowania wzorujący się na teorii decyzji i zakłada możliwość szacowania nie tylko stopnia przekonania co do doktryn moralnych, ale także międzydoktrynalnego porównywania wartości (to jest moim zdaniem najistotniejszy problem). Załóżmy, że nie mamy pewności, która z dwóch doktryn moralnych jest właściwa: X czy Y. Ta pierwsza głosi, że działanie A jest moralnie lepsze niż działanie B; doktryna Y odwrotnie: B jest lepsze niż A. Zwolennicy ANN muszą więc nie tylko oszacować swój stopień przekonania co do tych doktryn (np. twierdząc, że prawdopodobieństwo, że to doktryna X jest właściwa wynosi 0,64, a że doktryna Y – 0,36 lub chociażby podając przybliżone wartości), ale także wskazać, jak bardzo moralnie lepsze jest A od B wedle doktryny X oraz B od A wedle doktryny Y. Tylko że zadanie to jest niewykonalne z definicji, ponieważ różne doktryny moralne posługują się różnymi skalami wartości. Choć kilku autorów próbowało w ostatnich latach stworzyć modele międzydoktrynalnego porównywania wartości, które działałyby choćby w niektórych sytuacjach moralnej niepewności (np. książka Teda Lockharta lub artykuł w „Ethics"Jacoba Rossa), to szybko je jednak podważono (patrz artykuły Andrew Sepiellego w „Philosophy & Phenomenological Research" lub Williama MacAskilla „Ethics"). Mówiąc bardziej metaforycznie: w sytuacjach niepewności normatywnej nie ma żadnej wspólnej „waluty" akceptowanej przez różne doktryny, ponieważ to, jak bardzo dane działanie w określonej sytuacji jest moralnie słuszne lub niesłuszne, zależy przecież od przyjętej doktryny. W tym tekście skupiłem się na wykorzystaniu ANN w argumentacji dotyczącej embrionów ludzkich, ale argumenty tego typu pojawiają się także w wielu innych kontekstach. Na przykład Peter Singer w jednym ze swoich tekstów w bardzo podobny sposób argumentował za niedopuszczalnością zabijania zwierząt tylko po to, by je zjeść: Nie jestem pewny, że zabicie świni byłoby złe samo w sobie; jednakże nie jestem też pewny, że byłoby to dobre. Ponieważ nie istnieje żadna moralnie istotna racja przemawiająca za zabiciem – a fakt, że ktoś może woleć potrawę z wieprzowiny od wegetariańskiej, byłoby trudno uznać za rzecz o wielkiej wadze moralnej – wydaje się, że należałoby tego typu wątpliwości rozstrzygnąć na korzyść świni. Co zatem robić w sytuacjach niepewności moralnej, jeśli ANN nie jest dobrą metodą podejmowania decyzji? Najlepsze rozwiązanie, którego ostatnio bronili Johan E. Gustafsson i Olle Torpman w artykule In defence of my favourite theory opublikowanym w „Pacific Philosophical Quarterly" jest po prostu takie: zawsze kieruj się swoją ulubioną doktryną moralną, nawet jeśli nie masz pewności, że jest właściwa. Literatura T. Żuradzki, Argument z niepewności normatywnej a etyczna ocena badań naukowych wykorzystujących ludzkie embriony, „Diametros" 32 (2012): 131–159, doi:10.13153/diam.32.2012.481. T. Żuradzki, Moral uncertainty in bioethical argumentation: a new understanding of the prolife view on early human embryos, "Theoretical Medicine and Bioethics" 35/6 (2014): 441-457, doi: 10.1007/s11017-014-9309-1. J.E. Gustafsson, O. Torpman, In defence of my favourite theory, "Pacific Philosophical Quarterly" 95 (2014): 159-174, doi: 10.1111/papq.12022.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Editor Lou Marinoff Guest Editor Gerald Rochelle Associate Editor Seamus Carey Reviews Editor Troy Camplin Managing Editor Lauren Tillinghast Technical Consultant Greg Goode Legal Consultant Thomas Griffith PHILOSOPHICAL PRACTICE Journal of the APPA Volume 4 Number 1 March 2009 www.appa.edu ISSN 1742-8181 Letter Keith MacLellan In Memoriam, Jess Fleming Vaughana Feary Guest Editorial Gerald Rochelle Articles Philosophy in the Business Arena Geoffrey Klempner Philosophical Counselling and the Philosopher-Entrepreneur Eli Eilon Law and Well-Being: Applying Philosophy of Occupatioaal Therapy in Schools Farzaneh Yazdani and Christopher Williams Community of Enquiry and Ethics of Responsibility Roberto Franzini Tibaldeo Reviews Philosophical Counselling and the Unconscious Kate Mehuron Did My Neurons Make Me Do It? Tom Griffith A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy John Wehrle Nietzsche's Ethical Theory: Mind, Self and Responsibility Troy Camplin Nemo Veritatem Regit Nobody Governs Truth 407 Community of Enquiry and Ethics of Responsibility ROBERTO FRANZINI TIBALDEO UNIVERSITY OF TORINO, ITALY Abstract The article assumes that Lipman's paradigm of 'Philosophy for Children' (P4C) as a 'Community of Inquiry' (CI) is very useful in extending the range of philosophical practices and the benefits of philosophical community reflection to collective life as such. In particular, it examines the possible contribution of philosophy to the practical and ethical dynamics which, nowadays, seem to characterise many deliberative public contexts. Lipman's idea of CI is an interesting interpretative key for such contexts. As a result, the article highlights the possibility of understanding a CI essentially in terms of an ethics of responsibility. Keywords: community, responsibility, philosophy for children, philosophical inquiry, education to democracy, public ethics, deliberation. Introduction This essay assumes that Matthew Lipman's 'Philosophy for Children' (P4C), although developed in the 1970s, is still relevant to our contemporary age. Indeed, its application reaches beyond the sphere of childhood. Problematic aspects of democratic life-such as the teaching of the concept of civil liberties, the spreading of responsible participation and pluralistic dialogue, and the fulfilment of a common civil life based upon shared rules, procedures, and reasonable dialogue- are not yet solved and may indeed need to be frequently revisited and reviewed. It seems, moreover, that with the advent of globalisation, and its political and socio-cultural consequences, life has become more 'complex' (Carletto-Franzini Tibaldeo, 2004). It may be that philosophy can contribute towards how we face or resolve the problems of this 'complex' world. Here, I try to develop a comparison with Lipman's thinking, in order to point out the relevance of his idea of 'Community of Inquiry' (CI) for public ethics and, specifically, for an ethics of responsibility. Indeed, I believe that this comparison will help to elucidate the potential role played by the philosophical discussion and the relationships built within a CI for the successful development of an individual and public ethics of responsibility.1 Lipman's 'Community of Inquiry' (CI) Lipman's philosophical and pedagogical research begins with the proposition that 'the greatest disappointment of traditional education consists in its failure in generating persons who draw near to the ideal of reasonableness' (Lipman, 1988, it. tr. p. 17). This does not mean that this ideal is Utopian or beyond the reach of education. Indeed, Lipman's point here is not to cast doubt on the principle of reasonableness. Nevertheless, what is evident and problematic is the fact that traditional education has no efficacy in the spreading and consolidation among citizens of civil virtues (Lipman, 2003). Beginning with theoretical premises close to pragmatism and constructivism, but also acquiring ideas from contemporary continental hermeneutics and from the epistemology of complexity (Lipman, 2003; Cosentino, 2002b; Cosentino, 2005b),2 Lipman aims to go beyond the current idea of an educational system,3 in search of a new philosophical and pedagogical paradigm so as to comprehend the overall formation of the individual's dispositions and main features of the citizen. Philosophical Practice, March 2009, 4.1: 407-418 ISSN 17428181 online © 2009 APPA 408 Education and democracy can in no way be separated. This is a debt Lipman incurs directly from Dewey, who devoted important essays to this theme (Dewey, 1916; Cives, 2004). Like Dewey, Lipman believes that the democratic context is both the indispensable premise and the never sufficiently gained goal for a renewed education system, the aim of which is to stimulate the spread of reflective, autonomous, and critical thinking. Moreover, the aim is to give rise to dialogue, selfcorrection, and inquiry, in order to eliminate the 'forces which cause violence, ignorance, and injustice' (Striano-Oliverio, 2007, p. 264).4 Democracy is, according to Lipman, the space and the political environment where human relations take place, and where also educational relations may happen. Two fundamental aspects are fulfilled by a democratic context: on the one hand, an aptitude to research distinguished by fallibility and self-criticism, and, on the other, the recognition of the value assigned to procedures and their respect by citizens. In defining the new educational and political paradigm, Lipman points out two regulative ideals: the first-democracy-guides, and ought to guide, the development of social structure, while the second-reasonableness-guides, and ought to guide, the development of the individual structure of each child and, therefore, of future citizens (Sharp, 2005, p. 33; Lipman-Sharp, 1978; Lipman, 2003, pp. 235 ff.). This outline is, however, incomplete without an indication of the extent to which philosophy plays a relevant role. Lipman refers again to Dewey, when he says, 'Our society could not be fully civilised and our schools could not be fully satisfactory [...] until students were converted to inquiry and thereby prepared to be participants in a society likewise committed to inquiry as the sovereign method of dealing with its problems' (Lipman, 2003, p. 34). It is well-known that Dewey interprets 'inquiry' as 'scientific inquiry' (Dewey, 1933; Dewey, 1938; Peirce, 1935-58; Lipman, 2003, p. 20; Cosentino, 2005c, p. 75; Striano, 2002, pp. 139 ff.). Lipman, on the other hand, understands the idea of 'philosophical inquiry' in a wider sense, by referring to an idea of philosophy as a philosophical practice.5 In keeping with this, Lipman defines inquiry as 'perseverance in self-corrective inquiry regarding relevant and problematic questions' (Lipman, 1988, p. 19). It is, however, important to notice that such a philosophical practice may take place in a community only with others who share the same desire to participate in a philosophical inquiry. A CI, therefore, begins with this shared desire. Moreover, participants ought also to share the commitment to an aim (the will to undertake a philosophical inquiry), the 'commitment to reasonableness – that is, to rationality tempered by judgement' (Lipman, 2003, p. 111), and to reciprocally recognise these commitments and the need for a collective sharing. The heart and vehicle of expression of this inquiry is, according to Lipman, philosophical dialogue, which differs from conversation, debate, and mere communication (Lipman, 2003, pp. 87-93).6 Philosophical dialogue is certainly argumentative, but at the same time it consists not only in argumentation.7 What happens in a CI is what affects the participants, and this is complex and difficult to describe. Lipman synthesises the specific characteristics of a CI in this way: Every community of inquiry has about it a requiredness or Prägnanz that lends it a sense of direction, and every participant in such a community partakes of that qualitative presence, which is the tertiary quality of which Dewey speaks. It is a quality more readily possessed than described, but were it not present and acknowledged, the participants would lack any standard of relevance or irrelevance (Lipman, 2003, p. 86). Community of Enquiry and Ethics of Responsibility 409 At the same time, not every communication is a philosophical dialogue or an inquiry. In a similar way, not every community is a community of inquiry, least of all because of the fact that to be such a community there have to be acknowledged and shared commitments, norms, procedures, and responsibilities. This is what specifies a CI as such. However, what about the effects of a CI upon its members? What qualitative difference may a CI produce on its members? To what extent is it possible- supposing that the question makes sense-to talk about the 'utility' of a CI for the democratic context in which it works and to which it gives its contribution? This final question especially invests in a wider sense the meaning of philosophy. Lipman leans to philosophy as philosophising, that is a specific way of practically interacting with the world. Philosophy is, therefore, committed to the inquiry of sense and meaning. This is the horizon against which Lipman's 'pro-reasonableness' choice is to be set, the further development of which depends on the quality of philosophising which nourishes it. Finally, these aspects display the required centrality of philosophy for education and, moreover, for democratic society as such.8 In order to identify the effects produced on an individual taking part in a CI, Lipman points out some fundamental characteristics leading to the full achievement of a reasonable person and citizen. Among these aspects we find the following: autonomy, reflectivity, self-reflectivity, self-correction, sensitivity to context, ability to use critical and self-critical thinking as well as creative and caring thinking, competence to argue and to sustain the reasons of personal choices, actions and beliefs (Lipman, 2003, pp. 25-27). These characteristics not only point out the main features of Lipman's new paradigm but, because they are of fundamental importance, both for the single person and for the community, they reveal a 'thoroughly social and communal' (Ibid. p. 25) quality as well. Community of Inquiry, Democracy and Public Ethics Any CI is closely connected to values and with questions about the sense of values. This happens because of the 'caring' thinking (that is, it being value-oriented), which together with the logical-critical and the creative thinking involved makes a person (and a collective discussion) able to put into practice a 'thinking of a higher level' (Lipman, 1995, p. 29). Also, it is important to recall the Prägnanz,9 which-according to Lipman-marks the difference between a community in which a philosophical inquiry process takes place from one where this does not occur. Because of Prägnanz, the community and its members have a parameter-gained through the common inquiry-by which they are able to evaluate what is relevant and to distinguish it from what is not. Lastly, the philosophical inquiry deriving from a collective commitment is, as such, already oriented to action (and, therefore, is as such ethically relevant). This is possible because the community has previously developed its inquiry being stimulated by problems arising from praxis, and with the reasonable expectation of being able to synthesise them into a higher level of thinking or solution. A second (and ethically relevant) aspect emerges from Lipman's meditations upon the CI. It concerns the relationship between the individual and the community, and consequently between individual values and shared values. A similar question may, however, be posed in relation to the freedom of the individual facing the community in which he decides to participate. Experience says that the answer to these issues normally lies within a range of solutions displayed between two extremes: on the one hand, there is the defence of the irreducibility and intangibility of the individual, while, on the other, there is the nullification of the individual in favour of a new and amplified communitarian subject, which, therefore, seems to assume its own substantiality and individuality. Roberto Franzini Tibaldeo 410 Lipman deals with the problem by avoiding both of the extremes. According to his renewed pedagogy faithful to complexity, his solution goes beyond any dualistic answer. From one aspect, Lipman states that there is a certain priority set by the world and the social environment upon individuality (because of a first movement proceeding from the social towards the individual).10 However, for another, Lipman never forgets to point out that the relation between an individual and a community displays a dialectics of freedom. This dynamic avoids the rupture of the social relationship, recognising at the same time the unavoidable and dialectical tension and friction arising from the ingredients. The dialectics of freedom, as explained by Lipman, avoids the annihilation of the individual in the communitarian situation, but, at the same time it shows how any individual belongs-to and is-placed-inside a specific and historical context, into-expressed as contemporary hermeneutics-an horizon of pre-comprehension as the fundamental condition of possibilities for any human relation. Moreover, Lipman rejects the transformation of a community into a substantial and autonomous entity, while stating, at the same time, that the community is also characterised by a form of 'ulteriority'. This means that a community, being more than the sum of its individuals, represents a certain reserve of possibilities for its members. In addition, he insists that the plexus of individual freedom and responsibility can never come to a conscious and critical or self-critical realisation if separated from a social context. Lipman, however, does not intend to deny the freedom of individuals, or to remove the responsibility for individual behaviour. Furthermore, the interpretative key of the productive tension and friction animating the space of human freedom may be applied also to other aspects of Lipman's meditation. For example, it may find application in the relation between the idea of 'community' (as a specific socio-cultural setting, which opens the possibility of making relations and inquiries) and the idea of 'inquiry' (as a selfcorrective, multi-logical, perspective, and critical inquiry). In a similar fashion it might be applied to the relation binding logic and creativity, rationality and affectivity (Lupia, 2005, p. 77), or democracy and inquiry.11 Lastly, and implicitly, human relations as such (together with their typical 'warmth') seem to gain some clarity from this idea of productive and cooperative energy, which (at least in part) seems to explain their essence. As regards explicitly ethical issues, Lipman points out their relation to the two characteristics identifying practical reasoning: self-correction and sensitivity to context. Consequently, he derives two possible approaches of interest for a collective inquiry: 'self-realisation ethics' and 'goodreasons ethics' (Lipman, 2003, p. 54). These are, however, only two possible examples of ethically relevant themes, which must always be placed alongside other (ethically relevant) characteristics of human reasoning, such as the intrinsically normative feature of caring thinking (thanks to which it is possible to compare being with ought-to-being), or the predictive feature.12 Therefore, the ethical relevance portraying such human reason finds its match in the ethical colouring of the CI. These two dimensions inevitably reflect one another dynamically: on the one hand, the product gained by collective inquiry appears to be relevant for individual ethics (because of the active, motivated, and responsible participation of its members), while, on the other, thanks to its relational and social core, the subject always ponders, evaluates, and acts within a dialogical and a CI context. Since a CI shows an intentionality for ethical inquiry which goes beyond the merely ethical positions (individually speaking) of its members, it can certainly be said that as such a CI shows a certain relevance for public ethics. However, it is interesting to notice that the application of the idea of 'public ethics' to a CI requires (and produces) an overall reconfiguration of the same idea, which takes it well beyond its current meaning. Indeed, the public-ethical commitment of philosophical inquiry led by a CI does not at all consist in the reproduction of the basic features of so called 'public ethics' (Da Re, 2001, p. 43). Instead, the public-ethical philosophising of a CI cannot be simply reduced to 'public ethics'. Indeed, a CI is interested in discussing fundamental questions of sense, which are by definition Community of Enquiry and Ethics of Responsibility 411 omitted by public ethics. Both attitudes, however, share some basic theoretical statements: pluralism of values; the possible conflict between them; the fact that the different options displayed may not be able to face each other rationally in order to achieve a fair and reasonable solution, together with their general aim (the attempt to handle existing pluralism), and, finally, the choice in favour of a democratic procedure of rational confrontation. Nevertheless, an essential difference is, in both cases, the procedure. In the case of 'public ethics' the procedure aims at a mainly logical-argumentative confrontation, a politics controlling and orienting pluralism, and the mediation of interests in the first case. In the case of a CI, the aims are the following: a research involving the whole thinking project; a common procedure into which each member is at a stake with his values in order to come to a productive result; a filter which opens the possibility for mediation; a practice of self-regulation and formation aiming to assume the best choice. For example: suppose that a group of individuals (for instance, the members of a town council) intends to discuss what to do with a certain plot of ground belonging to the community. Suppose that the participants-as often happens-express different and specific interests and are not able to arrive at a common decision about the problem. Suppose, however, that after much discussion they agree to the construction of a public park on this ground. In this case, the solution was found by mediating among several interests and the resulting deliberation cleared the initial problem. The questions may be, at this point: Did we assist a CI process? Can this discussion be assumed to be a concrete example of CI? The answer to both questions must be negative. Indeed, it has to be said that the aim of a community of philosophical inquiry does not consist in the mediation of interests, but (for example) in a dialogue upon what to mean by 'interest'. The democracy of a CI is different from a mere 'democracy of interests'. The democratic method practically adopted by a CI seems, on the contrary, to consist in a filter opening the possibility for a higher level of mediation. The aim of a CI is not immediately and exclusively the search for agreement but the inquiry as such.13 In this respect, a CI definitely differs from a case of discourse or communication ethics. A second difference between public ethics and CI concerns the possible range of application. A philosophical inquiry seems to be possible only at a 'community' level (where 'community' is Gemeinschaft), that is, in a context characterised by near and reciprocal relations (Lipman, 2003, p. 95). On the other hand, the meditations carried out by public ethics may find their application also at a 'social' level (where 'society' is Gesellschaft), that is, in a context of hierarchical relations, which probably is not only wider, but also subject to dynamics characterised by competition or willto-power.14 However, it would be a mistake to conclude that public ethics and CI have nothing to do with each other. On the contrary, as far as application is concerned, they seem to be complementary. On the one hand, the public-ethical commitment to community needs, which, when set in a wider relational horizon, may stimulate a permanent inquiry that avoids the withdrawal of the community into an ideological shell; on the other hand, democratic society (and, moreover, the global democratic society) can in no circumstance do without the communities and their strong relational motivation. This resistance helps towards avoiding the risk of falling into forms of governance based upon bureaucratic procedures only. Community of Inquiry and Ethics of Responsibility It is necessary to return to the characteristics of a CI, in order to understand in what sense any community philosophical inquiry is involved in a process producing a result or a product.15 In light of what has already been said, it should be clear that this result is a product of common knowledge, that is, a cooperative construction of sense and a process of negotiation of sense to which each Roberto Franzini Tibaldeo 412 member of the community takes part (Striano, 2005, p. 56-58; Lupia, 2005, p. 76). Because of its intrinsically philosophical character (that is, fallible, revisable, and self-corrective), this product ought to be continuously and dialogically discussed. The inquiry product-being a 'kind of settlement or judgement' (Lipman, 2003, p. 83)-appears to be the result of a 'deliberation', that is of a process of community 'weighing' specific reasons.16 Hence, the inquiry produced by a community appears to steer clear of the effective fulfilment of specific actions and decisions. The determination and planning of these seems, indeed, not to be in primis the aim of the inquiry. The philosophical inquiry refers to a different logic from the one driving problem solving strategies, whose aim is to discuss a specific question with the sole idea of coming to a specific deliberation for final practical application. The philosophical dialogue which occurs in a CI-according to Antonio Cosentino, who introduced Lipman's thinking into Italy at the beginning of the 1990s-is 'a kind of knowledge which does not correspond to the level of instrumental knowledge (acquiring of information, computing of data, problem solving). On the contrary, it has mainly to do with horizons of sense, values, cognitive paradigms, ways of interpreting reality, global attitudes towards experience' (Cosentino, 2005b, p. 42; Lipman, 2003, p. 26). In order to solve a problematic situation (as previously mentioned, this aim is implicit in the same idea of 'inquiry'), collective inquiry certainly takes off from singular circumstances and specific problems. Yet, as such, the process of philosophical reflection always preserves a sort of ulteriority with respect to this situation. It does, in fact, characterise the peculiarity of philosophical inquiry and of its method, according to which, in order to face a problem, it is first necessary to widen its context and horizon, which then makes it possible to examine deeply all philosophical devices (terms, ideas, interpretative keys, etc.) previously used. As a consequence, the initial problem is examined in a new light and in a renewed context of sense. For this reason, I believe that the 'deliberation' (that is the product of common thinking) may be followed by some kind of practical modification in the life of the community and of its members. Therefore, a kind of 'utility' can be expected from a CI-'community of inquiry', says Cosentino, 'assigns the logical products of the inquiry in order to restore its overall order and to improve the conditions of existence and of everyday life' (Cosentino, 2005b, p. 29). The matter may be summarized as follows: reflection in the CI begins with a specific problem, but does not aim solely to find a specific solution. Nevertheless, the expected result-the nature of which has evidently to invest praxis-requires the overall involvement of a higher faculty of human inquiry. As a result, the problem finds its solution at the level of the reflective praxis. This operation is placed at an ulterior level compared with the one where the starting problem was specifically sited. Being faithful to Lipman's dislike for any kind of dualistic interpretation, it is now important to avoid the involvement of a form of dualism in this delicate point of the pragmatics of the CI. Lipman fought to unify theory and praxis. The same effort must be made when examining the 'effects' produced by the reflective praxis upon specific actions or choices which the community as such (or individual members of the community), after having carried out a process of philosophical reflection, concretely intend to assume and carry out. It would be a cause of demotivation or incoherence if philosophical reflection was unable to produce any effect on the everyday praxis of the CI members. The same problem would arise in cases where the effects of a 'community' praxis had no chance of generating any influence upon 'social' praxis. As previously illustrated, specific cases and questions (actions) offer opportunities for the constitution of the dialogical praxis and community research. It is now time to analyze the opposite movement, that is the achievement of the reflective praxis by means of single actions/deliberations (reached through collective deliberations), which may be concretely assumed or carried out individually or collectively.17 In this respect, the question is: how can a CI as such implement-after careful meditation (deliberation 1)-specific actions or decisions (deliberation 2), without losing Community of Enquiry and Ethics of Responsibility 413 its specificity (that is, the philosophical character of its reflection)? Or, vice versa, which actions or deliberations (deliberation 2) are able to testify to and preserve the irreducible peculiarity of a CI (deliberation 1), which produced them? These questions are relevant because it is of fundamental interest to make the following points clear. First, to what extent the community reflective praxis (deliberation 1) may actually make a difference in everyday praxis at the level of both social life and individual existence (deliberation 2)? Second, to what extent a community, which decides to face specific problems (see Dewey's idea of 'inquiry'), and with the aim of finding a concrete resolution (deliberation 2), may consider itself a community of 'inquiry' (deliberation 1)? The solution of this second problem is particularly relevant to any attempt at widely extending the philosophical practice of a CI. Indeed, such experiments could try to involve political-administrative bodies, cultural and professional associations, and business organisations, which only exist because they are committed to resolving problems and bringing about specific decisions. The effects of this broader application could have consequences on the community and its members and, moreover, upon the wider 'social' context. I believe these questions may find a form of clarification through a meditation on the ethicalphilosophical idea of responsibility. Its significance is testified to by the fact that the concept of responsibility is able to consider both the effective consequences of human behaviour and the wider and challenging horizon of sense, within which actions and consequences happen.18 In other words, I believe that, thanks to an interpretation of the community pragmatics in light of the ethics of responsibility, it is possible to obtain important results: first, an overall interpretation of the sense of human action can be reached; second, the consequences of actions can be considered; third, the reflective praxis of a CI can generate positive effects for the social praxis highlighted. Since fully demonstrating this last statement requires further research, here I will restrict myself to outlining a hypothetical solution by trying to imagine synthetically what actually happens when a CI begins. Assume, therefore, that a group of people (for instance, a town council, a spontaneous neighbourhood committee, or the managers of a business) intends to create a philosophical discussion (deliberation 1) concerning a specific topic or theme, in order to come to a concrete deliberation that can subsequently be implemented (deliberation 2). Assume that this group, though limited to the above-mentioned topic of discussion, aims to become a 'short-term CI'. From this, it is possible to propose hypothetically a series of considerations. First, the example demonstrates the possibility for a social praxis and to become reflective through the decision of the community to manage a dialogue according to a certain procedure (namely, the one that characterises a CI). This decision is based on the preliminary and free assent of the community members. Furthermore, this assent is joined to a freely assumed commitment (namely, a commitment undertaken by individuals who lead the community) to adhere to the procedure. Second, from these fundamental issues derive practical consequences, such as the fact that from now on people 'suspend' their ordinary social roles, that the discussion of selected topics will be characterised by a certain 'philosophical' style, and this will take place according to specific rules. Third, in cases where the experiment succeeds, it is reasonable to assume that certain consequences will follow. For example, it is highly probable that the participants receive an overall benefit in terms of personal reflective awareness. It is also probable that this awareness will increase if it finds further opportunities to be practiced (reinforcement effect). It is also probable that the acquired method of inquiry and the consequent increase of reflective awareness find further application-maybe within the same CI-to other topics some of which would have been previously unknown or unexpected. Fourth, it is likely that the growth of reflective skills within the CI and its members generates the improvement of other skills, such as the ability to evaluate questions (deliberation 1), cooperatively imagining possible solutions, imagining alternative scenarios, predicting their possible consequences and effects on praxis, and moniRoberto Franzini Tibaldeo 414 toring the effective fulfilment of assumed decisions (deliberation 2). Finally, from the effective achievement of the CI, it is legitimate to expect that its members receive from this experience an increased incentive in terms of personal motivation to realise further collective inquiry. Hence, the mental experiment of a 'short-term CI' seems to reveal some advantages. First: it presents itself as a specific inquiry itinerary, which is, however, placed in a wider horizon of sense. For this reason, the inquiry is able to testify to fundamental characteristics of this overall sense, such as its complexity, relational essence, and practical constitution. Other specific issues revealed by the horizon of sense (evidenced by the CI experience), are, in summary: free acceptance of a specific procedure, participation of the individuals, commitment to inquiry, construction and negotiation of meanings, recognition of other beings, sensitivity to value rationality, recognition of the emancipative power of community philosophical practice (Cosentino, 2004; Casarin, 2005), and so on. Second: the mental experiment may outline an initial exemplification of the dynamics linking reflective praxis with social praxis, reflective thinking with instrumental-strategical action (Lupia, 2005, p. 76), and the collective inquiry/deliberation (deliberation 1) with the fulfilment of specific choices (deliberation 2). Moreover, the experiment points out the heuristic process by which the CI and the ethics of responsibility can come to a reciprocal elucidation: on the one hand, the ethics of responsibility may display a coherent and unitary interpretation of the practical-philosophical dynamics of CI, while, on the other, the CI may lead to an understanding of the multiple levels of responsibility. The first result of this reciprocal elucidation is the fundamental connection between the ideas of freedom and responsibility; the one requires the other. Indeed, personal freedom comes to selfrealisation only with the freedom of others, and according to the reciprocal relation of call-answer (that is of responsibility)19 shown towards others. This means that before finding individual and specific fulfilment, freedom and responsibility are mutually implied as co-freedom and co-responsibility. In this respect, freedom and responsibility reveal a first (fundamental) level of meaning, consisting in an overall horizon of sense, of possibility, and of existence as such. On the one hand, the freedom and responsibility of the individuals and the community inquiry process find a consequent space and existence within this fundamental horizon. On the other, this horizon is liable to a process of continuous re-acceptance and re-configuration achieved by the freedom and responsibility of the individuals and of the CI. However, a second element appears when a person chooses, consciously, to take part in a CI- the free choice coincides with the responsible acceptance of a limit, which opens a productive, dynamic, and 'public' space for inquiry and existence.20 This freely accepted responsibility may find the following articulation: the individual is responsible a) for his own actions, and for their consequences, b) towards the other members of the community (responsibility as care), c) towards the community inquiry process (epistemic responsibility) (Striano, 2005, p. 51), d) for the philosophical quality of the results of the collective inquiry (deliberation 1), e) for the possible effects deriving from the practical fulfilment of specific decisions taken at a collective level (deliberation 2). It is important to notice that the achievement of points c), d), and e), does not depend exclusively on the goodwill of any single member of the community, but instead on the fact that the community as such accepts its commitment to inquiry. Conclusions In this essay I implicitly assumed two premises: a) the 'political' or 'public' relevance of philosophy-understood as a reflective practice-and the 'utility' of philosophy in order to gain an increase of civilization; b) the firm belief that Lipman's paradigm of P4C as a CI is very useful in extending the range of philosophical practices and the benefits of philosophical community reflecCommunity of Enquiry and Ethics of Responsibility 415 tion to collective life as such. I have not focussed on the question of whether Lipman's paradigm is the best for this purpose, and I acknowledge that further research would be necessary in order to reach such a conclusion. Instead, I have tried to develop the two above mentioned premises in order to discuss the possible contribution of philosophy to the practical and ethical dynamics which, nowadays, seem to characterise many relational and deliberative public contexts. In doing this, I have tried to apply to these contexts the interpretative key supplied by Lipman's CI. Subsequently, I have attempted to interpret a CI essentially in terms of an ethics of responsibility which is committed to two aims: on the one hand, to give a unitary (and non-dualistic) picture of human action, and of the plexus of freedom and responsibility, and, on the other, to re-interpret fundamental philosophical issues, such as the emancipative power of philosophical practice for the individual, the fact that philosophy ought to inquire about the reasons for participation in democracy, and the contribution that this reflective practice may offer to the comprehension of the productive tensions of the individual and community existence. Notes 1 In this respect, the comparison has the opportunity to show its originality. In fact, Lipman developed the idea of 'Community of Inquiry' within the school context, and did not aim to extend it to society as such (Lipman, 2003). However, I believe that there are very interesting reasons which can support this possibility. 2 For possible common points of interest with contemporary hermeneutics see Da Re, 2001, pp. 115-117. For the relationship between pedagogical theory and epistemology of complexity see Morin, 1973; Morin 1985; and Morin, 1991. 3 Indeed, Lipman believes that the present education system has lead students to ignore how to deal with logical competences. See, for instance, Lipman, 2003 and Striano-Oliverio, 2007. 4 For the relation between democracy and reduction of violence, see Lipman, 2003, pp. 105 ff. 5 For the definition of 'philosophical practices', see Volpone, 2004, pp. 20-21. 6 For the difference between Lipman's CI and Habermas' discourse ethics, see Laverty, 2005, pp. 158, 163 ff. and 177. 7 For the articulation of human rationality according to Lipman, see Lipman, 1995, p. 37 and Lipman, 2003. 8 'And if reasonableness prevails in the classroom today, then tomorrow, when today's students are adults and beginning to have children of their own, it will also prevail in the home. In time, other institutions may be transformed in a similar fashion, but it must all begin in the schools' (Lipman, 2003, p. 123). 9 With Prägnanz Lipman refers to the capacity of a CI to distinguish what is relevant and what has a value for the collective discussion (Lipman, 2003, p. 86). 10 This movement explains the development of the individual's rationality, of his psychological characteristics, and of his cognitive capacities. The same movement may also show how reflection originates from dialogue (Lipman, 2003; Lupia, 2005, pp. 74-75 and p. 76). In this respect, Lipman's thinking appears to be evidently influenced by Vygotskij (Vygotskij, 1934). 11 In this respect, Dewey had already remarked that democracy and inquiry may not happen to be naturally allied. Thus, according to Lipman, it is necessary to make efforts in order to harmonise them (Lipman, 2003, pp. 35-36). 12 For the normativity of caring thinking, see Lipman, 2003, pp. 34-35 and Sharp, 2005b, pp. 51-52. As regards the predicative feature, it characterises rationality as such. In fact, to comprehend something implies being able to single out its relations with the conditions and reasons producing it and with the effects deriving from it (Striano-Oliverio, 2007, p. 259; Cosentino, 2002b). The derivation of this idea from American pragmatism is evident. 13 However, as I will argue further, I do believe that this inquiry is 'interested' in its own achievement and in influencing behaviour. 14 For the complex and controversial distinction between community and society, see Tönnies, 1887 and Reidel, 1975. See also Esposito, 1998, Viola 1999 and Donati, 2006. See, finally, Esposito, 2002 and the meditations of P. Coda, R. Mancini, M. Signore, and S. Zamagni, in Signore-Scarafile, 2005. For the relevance of Lipman's thought on this debate, see Lupia, 2005, p. 72. Roberto Franzini Tibaldeo 416 15 According to Lipman, each CI has a goal: a CI is 'a process that aims at producing a product-at some kind of settlement or judgement, however partial and tentative this may be' (Lipman, 2003, p. 83). 16 Lipman gives the following definition of 'deliberation': 'This involves a consideration of alternatives through examination of the reasons supporting each alternative. Since the deliberation usually takes place in preparation for the making of a judgement, we speak of the process as a "weighing" of the reasons and the alternatives' (Ibid. p. 96). 17 The philosophical problem of the 'realisation/fulfilment' of the reflective praxis is already evidenced by the meaning of the word 'deliberation'. Indeed, 'deliberation' ordinarily assumes two meanings. The first indicates the 'internal' process of weighing and evaluating reasons in order to formulate a judgement (deliberation 1). Lipman uses 'deliberation' with reference to this meaning (Lipman, 2003, p. 96). However, a second meaning seems to emerge from the everyday use of the term. This meaning insists on the 'what for' of the deliberation (the deliberative weighing is never neutral, but has the aim of a practical fulfilment, and has always to be prepared to respond for the possible consequences deriving from the realisation) (deliberation 2). It is important to notice, that in a CI the realisation of a deliberation 1 by means of a deliberation 2 (expressed by a specific norm, commandment, or measure) ought never to consist in a poietic or technical process only, but-better-in a practical (in a philosophical sense) fulfilment. In this essay, I cannot enter into the question of the relation between individual deliberation and intersubjective or collective choice. Several works examine this problem in light of the fundamental role played by Aristotle (Bubner, 1976; Arenas-Dolz, 2006; Totaro, 2006). 18 For an overall reappraisal of the idea of responsibility beyond the bare consideration of the consequences of human action, see the thinking of Hans Jonas (Jonas, 1979). 19 The word 'responsibility' derives from the Latin respondere and responsum dare, which imply the idea of being committed to giving an answer to someone to some extent. It is curious to notice that also the German word meaning 'responsibility', namely Verantwortung, has conserved this responsive meaning (Antwort = answer). 20 See above, for the productive tension/friction of human relationships. References Arenas-Dolz, F. (2006) Il concetto di deliberazione nella filosofia di Aristotele. Etica, retorica ed ermeneutica (http://amsdottorato.cib.unibo.it/172/). Bevilacqua, S. (2007) L'esperienza della Philosophy for Children (for community) in Comunità per tossicodipendenti (San Benedetto al porto di Genova) (published at the website www.filosofare.org). Bubner, R. (1976) Handlung, Sprache und Vernunft: Grundbegriffe praktischer Philosophie (Frankfurt am Main, Suhrkamp). Carletto, S.-Franzini Tibaldeo, R. (eds.) (2004) Il globo e spada. Scenari futuri dell'Europa unita (Milano, Medusa). Casarin, P. (2005) 'Valenze formative e potenzialità emancipative delle pratiche filosofiche', in A. Cosentino (ed.), Pratica filosofica e professionalità riflessiva (Napoli, Liguori, pp. 104-122). Cives, G. (2004), Dewey e la democrazia, Studi sull'educazione, VII, 2, 13-32. Cosentino, A. (ed.) (2002a) Filosofia e formazione. 10 anni di Philosophy for children in Italia (1991-2001) (Napoli, Liguori). Cosentino, A. (2002b) Costruttivismo e formazione (Napoli, Liguori). Cosentino, A. (2004) Effetti emancipativi della comunità di ricerca, Pratiche filosofiche, II, 1, 4550. Cosentino, A. (ed.) (2005a) Pratica filosofica e professionalità riflessiva (Napoli, Liguori). Cosentino, A. (2005b), 'La pratica del filosofare per lo sviluppo di una professionalità riflessiva', in A. Cosentino (ed.) Pratica filosofica e professionalità riflessiva (Napoli, Liguori, pp. 9-45). Cosentino, A. (2005c), 'Teoria e pratica nella formazione dei docenti. Il modello della "P4C"', in M. Santi (ed.) (2005) Philosophy for Children: un curricolo per imparare a pensare (Napoli, Liguori, pp. 63-80). Community of Enquiry and Ethics of Responsibility 417 Da Re, A. (2001) 'Figure dell'etica', in C. Vigna (ed.), Introduzione all'etica (Milano, Vita e Pensiero, pp. 3-117). Dewey, J. (1916) Democracy and Education: an Introduction to the Philosophy of Education (New York, Macmillan). Dewey, J. (1929) The Quest for Certainty: a Study of the Relation of Knowledge and Action (New York, Milton-Balch). Dewey, J. (1933) How we think (Boston, Heat). Dewey, J. (1938) Logic: the Theory of Inquiry (New York, Holt, Rinehart and Winston). Donati, P. (2006) 'Comunità', in Enciclopedia filosofica (Milano, Bompiani, vol. 3, pp. 2112-2114). Esposito, R. (1998) Communitas. Origine e destino della comunità (Torino, Einaudi). Esposito, R. (2002) Immunitas. Protezione e negazione della vita (Torino, Einaudi). Jonas, H. (1979) Das Prinzip Verantwortung. Versuch einer Ethik für die technologische Zivilisation (Frankfurt am Main, Insel). Laverty, M. (2005) 'Dialogo filosofico ed etica: ricerca, virtù e amore', in M. Santi (ed.), Philosophy for Children: un curricolo per imparare a pensare (Napoli, Liguori, pp. 157-179). Lipman, M.-Sharp, A. M. (1978) Some educational presuppositions of Philosophy for Children, Oxford Review of Education, 4, 1, 40-58. Lipman, M. (1988) Pratica filosofica e riforma dell'educazione. La filosofia con i bambini, it. tr. in Bollettino SFI, 135, now in A. Cosentino (ed.) (2002a). Lipman, M. (1995) Orientamento al valore (caring) come pensiero, Inquiry, XV, 1 (it. tr. in Comunicazione filosofica, 3). Lipman, M. (2003) Thinking in Education (second edition, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press). Lupia, M. (2005), 'Il curricolo di M. Lipman e la "comunità di ricerca"', in A. Cosentino (ed.) (2005a), pp. 65-103. Martens, E. (1999) Philosophieren mit Kindern. Eine Einführung in die Philosophie (Stuttgart, Reclam). Morin, E. (1973) Le paradigme perdu: la nature humain (Paris, Seuil). Morin, E. (1985) Le vie della complessità, in G. Bocchi-M. Ceruti (eds.), La sfida della complessità (Milano, Feltrinelli). Morin, E. (1991) Introduction à la pensée complexe (Paris, ESF). Peirce, C. S. (1935-58) 'The Fixation of Belief', in Id., Collected Papers (Cambridge, Harvard University Press). Reidel, M. (1975) 'Gesellschaft, Gemeinschaft', in O. Brunner-W. Conze-R. Koselleck (eds.), Geschichtliche Grundbegriffe. Historisches Lexikon zur politisch-sozialen Sprache in Deutschland (Stuttgart, voll. II, pp. 804-805). Riva, F. (2007) Partecipazione e responsabilità. Un binomio vitale per la democrazia (Troina, Città aperta). Santi, M. (1995) Ragionare con il discorso (Firenze, La Nuova Italia). Santi, M. (ed.) (2005) Philosophy for Children: un curricolo per imparare a pensare (Napoli, Liguori). Sharp, A. M. (2005a) 'Filosofia per i bambini: educare un giudizio migliore', in M. Santi (ed.) (2005), pp. 29-44. Sharp, A. M. (2005b) 'La "comunità di ricerca", educazione delle emozioni e prevenzione della violenza', in A. Cosentino (ed.) (2005a), pp. 46-64. Signore, M. (1995) Questioni di etica e di filosofia pratica (Lecce, Milella). Signore, M.-Scarafile, G. (eds.) (2005) Libertà e comunità (Padova, Messaggero). Striano, M. (1999) Quando il pensiero si racconta (Roma, Meltemi). Roberto Franzini Tibaldeo 418 Striano, M. (2002) 'Insegnare a pensare. Un'esperienza di formazione a pensare il pensiero', in A. Cosentino (ed.) (2002a), pp. 137-147. Striano, M. (2005), 'Filosofia e costruzione della conoscenza nei contesti di formazione', in M. Santi (ed.) (2005), pp. 45-61. Striano M.-Oliverio S. (ed.) (2007) A. M. Sharp. "Philosophy for Children", un percorso educativo attraverso la filosofia, Iride, XX, 51, 249-269. Tönnies, F. (1887) Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft (7th edition, 1912, Berlin, Curtius). Totaro, F. (2006) 'Deliberazione', in Enciclopedia filosofica (Milano, Bompiani, vol. 3, pp. 26332634). Viola, F. (1999) Identità e comunità: il senso morale della politica (Milano, Vita e Pensiero) Volpone, A. (2004) Oltre le pratiche filosofiche, Pratiche filosofiche, II, 1, 11-25. Vygotskij, L. S. (1934), Thought and Language (it. tr. Roma-Bari, Laterza, 1990). correspondence: [email protected] Community of Enquiry and Ethics of Responsibility 419 Editor Lou Marinoff Guest Editor Gerald Rochelle Associate Editor Seamus Carey Reviews Editor Troy Camplin Managing Editor Lauren Tillinghast Technical Consultant Greg Goode Legal Consultant Thomas Griffith PHILOSOPHICAL PRACTICE Journal of the APPA Volume 4 Number 1 March 2009 www.appa.edu ISSN 1742-8181 Aims and Scope Philosophical Practice is a scholarly, peer-reviewed journal dedicated to the growing field of applied philosophy. The journal covers substantive issues in the areas of client counseling, group facilitation, and organizational consulting. It provides a forum for discussing professional, ethical, legal, sociological, and political aspects of philosophical practice, as well as juxtapositions of philosophical practice with other professions. Articles may address theories or methodologies of philosophical practice; present or critique case-studies; assess developmental frameworks or research programs; and offer commentary on previous publications. The journal also has an active book review and correspondence section. APPA Mission The American Philosophical Practitioners Association is a non-profit educational corporation that encourages philosophical awareness and advocates leading the examined life. Philosophy can be practiced through client counseling, group facilitation, organizational consulting or educational programs. APPA members apply philosophical systems, insights and methods to the management of human problems and the amelioration of human estates. The APPA is a 501(c)(3) taxexempt organization. APPA Membership The American Philosophical Practitioners Association is a not-for-profit educational corporation. It admits Certified, Affiliate and Adjunct Members solely on the basis of their respective qualifications. It admits Auxiliary Members solely on the basis of their interest in and support of philosophical practice. The APPA does not discriminate with respect to members or clients on the basis of nationality, race, ethnicity, sex, gender, age, religious belief, political persuasion, or other professionally or philosophically irrelevant criteria. Subscriptions, Advertisements, Submissions, Back Issues For information on subscriptions, advertisements and submissions, please see the front pages of this document. For information on back issues, APPA Memberships and Programs, please visit www.appa.edu.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
This article has been accepted for publication in Ethics, Policy & Environment, published by Taylor & Francis. https://www.tandfonline.com/loi/cepe21 Pervasive captivity and urban wildlife Nicolas Delon New College of Florida ABSTRACT Urban animals can benefit from living in cities, but this also makes them vulnerable as they increasingly depend on the advantages of urban life. This article has two aims. First, I provide a detailed analysis of the concept of captivity and explain why it matters to nonhuman animals-because and insofar as many of them have a (non-substitutable) interest in freedom. Second, I defend a surprising implication of the account-pushing the boundaries of the concept while the boundaries of cities and human activities expand. I argue for the existence of the neglected problem of pervasive captivity, of which urban wildlife is an illustration. Many urban animals are confined, controlled and dependent, therefore often captive of expanding urban areas. While I argue that captivity per se is value-neutral, I draw the ethical and policy implications of harmful pervasive captivity. 2 Introduction Nonhuman animals1 living in urban areas have received, as such, scarce scrutiny in philosophy.2 Rats, pigeons, raccoons, squirrels, and coyotes challenge common frameworks, primarily designed to address the case of either domesticated or wild animals, or those we use for research or entertainment. Urban animals are neither fully wild nor properly domesticated, they are both free-roaming and dependent, ambivalent figures of nature in the city. Urban wildlife is also both typical-many of the usual suspects being found worldwide, precisely because they thrive in cities-and variable-depending on local ecosystems. Animals that sound exotic to many people may be common sights in urban quarters over the world, such as macaques and sacred cows across India, baboons in Cape Town, or leopards in Mumbai. Urban animals encompass feral and stray animals (cats, dogs, pigs, horses, etc.), scavengers (pigeons, gulls, mallards, crows, rats, squirrels, raccoons, etc.), some of whom are considered 'pests' or 'vermin,' and other native and nonnative animals whose habitat overlaps or intersects with urban areas (coyotes, bears, cougars, geese, raptors, badgers, skunks, possums, groundhogs, deer, foxes, elks, pigs, monkeys, etc.). They reside in our parks and squares, underground and aboveground, amidst and on the outskirts of cities. In cities, animals can benefit from milder temperatures, tall buildings, underground dens, abundant food supplies, protection from hunting, predation, and inclement weather. Meanwhile, they are vulnerable to anthropogenic threats, from road vehicles, planes, buildings, windows, and windmills, to city lights, traps, poison, and predation by companion animals. Like 1 For brevity's sake, hereafter I use the term 'animals.' I will, however, use person pronouns (who/whom, they) to refer to individual animals. 2 Unlike social sciences (e.g., in sociology, ethnography, and geography). For a few exceptions, see Michelfelder (2003; 2018), Palmer (2003a,b; 2010) and Donaldson and Kymlicka (2011). 3 urban animals, captivity had until recently received only scarce philosophical attention3 unlike, for instance, suffering, coercion, domination and other cognate concepts. Atypical forms of captivity have received even scarcer attention. As Lori Gruen notes, "Many institutions of captivity are largely invisible, hidden from sight and awareness" [e.g., prisons, factory farms, laboratories] (2014, 1). "In contrast, some institutions of captivity are so normalized that it is hard to think of them in the same category as prisons or factory farms or laboratories" [e.g., pet-keeping and zoos] (p. 2). In this paper, I tie together these two separate threads and offer an account of pervasive captivity, pushing the conceptual boundaries of captivity as the physical boundaries of human encroachment expand. Urban animals serve as a test case of the idea of pervasive captivity.4 Urban animal captivity is both hidden and normalized-hidden in plain sight. I argue that the best account of captivity has surprising implications, one of which is that some freeroaming animals are captive. And because freedom is part of a good life for these animals, what 3 This changed with Lori Gruen's The Ethics of Captivity (2014). See her introduction. Two recent examples include DeGrazia (2011) and Streiffer and Killoren (2018). 4 Two caveats are in order. First, the concept of urban animals is fuzzy. In what has become known as the Anthropocene, nature and the lives of most wild animals are significantly shaped by human activities. Urban wildlife nonetheless stands out as a distinctive range of human-animal interactions and should be of concern to environmental ethicists and animal ethicists (Light 2001; Light and Wellman 2003; Michelfelder 2003). Donaldson and Kymlicka (2016) argue that we need new ways of understanding the ethical significance of various human-animal entanglements, and write, "[t]he fact that humans inevitably affect and interact with ever more animals does not alter the fact that animals' lives are still theirs to lead, and that human management and intervention is legitimate only insofar as it respects animals as intentional agents." (p. 225). What matters is not that we affect urban animals' lives, but how and why, and the impact we have on "wild" animals differs from the sort of control we have on "liminal" animals. I also do not mean to make evaluative judgments about urban versus rural life or wildness, or to echo the history of workers migrating from the country to the city in the 19th century. Second caveat: urban animals include many more taxa than I can mention, including insects, arachnids, centipedes, etc.- the bulk of the urban biomass. I make no assumption about their welfare and its significance. There is growing evidence that many invertebrates are sensitive to pain and perhaps conscious-whether this is sufficient for having interests in freedom is unclear, though. 4 impact urbanization has on their freedom is ethically significant in ways that should affect urban wildlife management and policy. In the first section, I begin by defining the concept of captivity and introducing my preferred account. In section 2, I briefly consider how the criteria apply to urban animals and then describe various kinds of pervasive captivity. In section 3, I address the objection that urban animals cannot be captive because they benefit from their situation, and I argue that captivity is value-neutral. Finally, section 4 outlines some ethical implications of pervasive captivity. 1. Defining captivity 1.1. Captivity, freedom, and options By way of preliminary characterization, we could say that one is captive when one is deprived of freedom of movement, or prevented from exercising one's autonomy by physical and spatial constraints. Captivity, that is, involves confinement. Captivity deprives humans or animals of many goods and opportunities, prevents them from having, doing, and experiencing a number of things. This explains the commonly held presumption against detaining humans or animals without adequate justification:5 captivity is a deprivation of freedom and being free is valuable. If freedom is valuable for animals, then keeping them captive causes them a pro tanto harm. I will assume throughout that sentient animals exercise some form of control over what to do, when, and where and with whom to do it. It is beyond the scope of this paper to defend an account of animal agency and freedom, but if animals can be agents, then this has ethical implications.6 Why 5 See in particular chapters 11 and 12 of Jamieson (2003) and Rachels (1976). 6 See Delon (2018), Donaldson and Kymlicka (2011), Gruen (2011), Jamieson (2017) and Sebo (2017). 5 does it matter if animals can be (un)free? As I argue below, because it interferes with a central component of a good life. The sort of freedom that seems necessary for the presumption to apply consists in the capacity to choose to do, which abnormal external constraints hinder, what one wants, desires or prefers to do (whether it is also sufficient depends on what external constraints we deem normal or acceptable). One is free depending on one's options (i.e. one is unfree to X if and only if one's range of options is adversely restricted).7 Captive animals are capable of many things they would otherwise be disposed to do, and which matter to them. Of course, maximal freedom may not be best and restrictions may be necessary. Freedom may be traded off for other goods such as health or safety; and one can consent to being kept captive. The pro tanto harm of captivity does not necessarily make it wrong all things considered. The presumption against captivity is also distinct from a presumption against interference, which may also be overridden. Interference can promote other goods or can even enhance freedom by increasing one's options through interventions such as vaccines, medical treatment or evacuation; likewise, the law restricts freedom through coercion in order to guarantee equal liberty and protect rights. Descriptively, one important aspect of captivity is a set of abnormal restrictions on freedom, understood as a range of options. Abnormality is construed in reference to a relevant standard-e.g., a species-specific norm, a set of intrinsic abilities, a temporal baseline prior to the restrictions, or any appropriate comparison class depending on context. For instance, whether 7 Following Schmidt (2015), I endorse an opportunity conception of the freedom that matters to animals. My argument does not turn on whether other (social or political) senses apply to them (e.g. "psychological" freedom and "status" freedom; see Schmidt 2015, 97). The significance of the breadth and quality of options implies that the opportunity conception collapses the distinction between positive and negative freedom. 6 animals still have viable counterpart populations in other habitats or whether their organisms have been irreversibly altered are factors that can determine the relevant standards. One plausible baseline for evaluating the freedom of animals whose habitats are destroyed is how members of the closest corresponding population fared prior to urbanization, combined with knowledge of their natural range of species-typical behaviors and facts about the current population. The assessment is compatible with urbanized populations having evolved or developed adaptations (cognitive, behavioral or physiological) that distinguish them from their rural counterparts. The point is: these facts circumscribe a standard of flourishing that could be realistically achieved without altering the kinds of creature they are. A comparative assessment, assuming a nonarbitrary comparison class can be constructed, explains why we resist the intuition that children are captive: because their freedom is not abnormally restricted relative to the expected or standard developmental path of humans. Or we can emphasize that captivity typically involves significant restrictions. For babies, there are no realistic alternatives under which they could do something that is limited by their captivity. The difference then accounts for our different evaluative judgments about such restrictions. Of course, if animals cannot be free, whether as an empirical or conceptual matter, then they cannot be deprived of freedom.8 On the other hand, if they can be captive, then they can be free. And surely some animals are captive in some sense. Animals on factory farms are confined, cannot roam freely and have little to no control over what to eat, where to rest, or when and with whom to hang out, bond or mate. Many people think that their special obligations to their pets 8 Leahy (1991) makes an argument along these lines. See Jamieson's (2003, chapter 12) reply. 7 arise in part from the fact that they keep them captive.9 It is clear that animals can be captive. On my account, then, they can be free. We don't need a sophisticated account of animal freedom. Most animals lack rational autonomy, or the metacognitive ability to reflect on their desires and frame and revise their own conception of the good life, an ability taken by some to ground the intrinsic interest in liberty (Cochrane 2009; 2012). Yet they can exercise some autonomy in making choices about what to do, when, where and with whom to do it (as the agency of urban animals, their craft, resourcefulness and problem-solving skills, will illustrate). Whether freedom matters for its own sake or merely as a means to other goods, captivity abnormally interferes with it. Furthermore, having options matters to animals even if they cannot form higher-order representations of what their available options are. Sure, having this ability, as humans and perhaps apes, elephants or cetaceans do, makes restrictions worse, but options themselves are valuable. Fortunately, we need not solve the vexed question of whether freedom is intrinsically or merely instrumentally valuable for animals. Sufficient to undergird an ethical evaluation of captivity is the idea that freedom matters non-instrumentally, even though it may not matter for its own sake, as part of what Gruen (2002) calls "intermediate" forms of valuing. Freedom is valuable in that it allows us to do things, but it would still matter to us even if such things could be done for us. We value a good life partly in virtue of being free. Schmidt (2015) sidesteps the question and argues that freedom is "non-specifically instrumentally valuable," a means to other goods that cannot always be identified in advance, and is therefore not easily substitutable (i.e. instrumental interests cannot easily be satisfied by other means). Freedom has non-specific value as a "social ideal" (governing our 9 Streiffer and Killoren (2018) argue that animal use, which often comes with confinement, generates special duties. 8 mutual relationships) even when it is only instrumentally valuable. Henceforth, I will consider animal freedom as (at least) non-specifically instrumentally valuable (and perhaps constitutively valuable). Captivity, when it significantly restricts agency, thus undermines the material conditions constitutive of a good life. Such conditions include the physical and social environment central to flourishing, ranging from access to territory, resources, mates and companions to opportunities for play and exploration. Even if we could provide captive animals with all the goods that freedom is instrumentally conducive to, and even if animals do not value freedom for its own sake, captivity would still undermine the material conditions of a good life, by impairing one's ability to do by oneself that which matters to oneself. So, while captivity certainly implies confinement, it also involves substantial control over the movement, choices and actions of the captives. As Lisa Rivera (2014, 249) puts it, captivity is a "condition of powerlessness over one's options".10 Of course, not absolute powerlessness. Many captives retain some degree of freedom and capacity of resistance, even in extreme conditions. Still, many captive animals have little power over their options (which confinement on its own does not entail). Captivity thus involves restrictions, of which confinement is one species. Streiffer (2014) explains the distinction as follows. While I may be prevented by external obstacles from accessing a number of places, or leaving a particular region, I may not be confined. Prisons, on the other hand, are smaller than the remaining subregion of the relevant 10 Rivera suggests that, almost always, the captive is harmed and the captor benefitted by control (2014, 249). Donaldson and Kymlicka (2016, 237) imply that captivity is an inherently evaluative concept. Here, I argue that captivity need not benefit or be intended by the captor or harm the captive all things considered. Captivity is typically harmful, but our concept need not reflect this contingent fact. 9 area that prisoners are barred from accessing. Confinement is thus more than exclusion. But captivity is also more than confinement.11 I can be temporarily confined as a measure of protection or self-defense, or as part of a game, or on a plane stuck on the tarmac. Captivity involves specific types of restrictions that frustrate particular interests. When restrictions involve domination, they frustrate one's interest in autonomy. Not all restrictions are harmful or incompatible with autonomy-independently of whether they are morally or legally justified, albeit harmful. Moreover, some restrictions "have only instrumental relationships to an autonomous individual's interest in autonomy" when it can be satisfied in other ways (Streiffer 2014, 188). Finally, not all captives have an intrinsic interest in autonomy. A meaningful account of captivity must not be so broad that any restriction of the exercise of autonomy (e.g., legal coercion) makes one captive. Nor should it be so narrow as to preclude the captivity of those who lack an intrinsic interest in autonomy (children and animals). Let us take stock. Captivity typically involves abnormal restrictions of freedom-centrally, of movement-construed as opportunity (or options) relative to appropriate standards. And by depriving one of freedom, which is non-specifically valuable as a non-substitutable means to the components of a good life, it 11 According to Streiffer (2014, 179), confinement involves external limitations on movement; captivity involves the additional exercise of dominion. Streiffer goes on to question the validity of the distinction based on counterexamples: babies and prisoners meet the criteria, yet only the latter are captive. I have two replies: first, babies are controlled not so much to impede as to foster their potential autonomy; second, revisionary conceptual analysis can bite the bullet: yes, babies are captive. More generally, my account will imply that many more sorts of individuals are captive than previously thought, including severely exploited workers, refugees, and the homeless. Waldon (1991) for instance, has argued, persuasively to me, that homelessness involves unfreedom. Should we think that we are all captive insofar as we reside in cities and/or depend on and are coerced by the modern state? If captivity entails unfreedom, which entails moral responsibility (e.g. Schmidt 2016), then we are only captive when we are unfree as a result of somebody's intentional agency (broadly construed to include negligence and culpable ignorance). This normative conception of unfreedom is compatible with what I later call the value-neutrality of captivity. 10 impairs one's ability to live a good life. After these preliminary distinctions, I now turn to Gruen's account of captivity, on which I will rely onwards. 1.2. Gruen's account There are unsurprisingly few attempts to define it, but based on the previous considerations, I think Lori Gruen's proposal is very plausible: To hold someone captive is to deny her a variety of goods and to frustrate her interests in a variety of ways. Though conditions of captivity vary considerably, I think it is most useful to think of captivity as a condition in which a being is confined and controlled and is reliant on those in control to satisfy her basic needs. (Gruen 2011, 133)12 On Gruen's account, captivity consists in three joint conditions: confinement, control, and dependence. No criterion is independently sufficient. But if one's needs and preferences are sufficiently central that foregoing their satisfaction would significantly impact one's well-being, and one depends on someone who controls one for the satisfaction of such needs and preferences, and one is to a significant extent confined, then one is captive. I will show that many urban animals meet the criteria. On its face, the verdict is counterintuitive. These animals are not captured, deliberately kept, or restricted to neatly delineated boundaries. None of these features, however, are essential to captivity. First, many 12 In a footnote, Gruen specifies that the captive must be a "normally functioning adult" to avoid the implication that adults with severe cognitive disabilities and children are captive. As noted, I bite the bullet, partly because I do not want to build substantive assumptions into my analysis. But we can set the issue aside. When it is in fact permissible to keep someone confined, controlled and dependent, it does not follow that they are not captive. 11 captives were never captured (e.g., captive bred animals or self-surrendered prisoners) and many animals or humans can be captured temporarily without becoming captives. Second, accidental confinement can lead to captivity. An animal confined by a forgotten cage or trap is captive. Likewise, villagers could become the unintended captives of enemy troops if the latter did not realize some of their targets were (say) women, children or civilians. Conversely, we saw that restricting access to some area (exclusion), e.g., on safety grounds or to protect private property, is not sufficient for captivity. Finally, cult leaders, totalitarian states and abusive partners exert psychological control over individual's choices and actions, plausibly turning them into captives, even without using strict physical boundaries (see e.g. Rivera 2014). Conversely, boundaries such as borders, river crossings, mountain ranges, oceans, and walls are not sufficient for captivity. If these intuitive features of captivity are neither necessary nor sufficient, then we must be prepared to expand the boundaries of captivity on the basis of Gruen's account. Her account accords with for our pre-theoretical judgments about cases: i.e. that animals in zoos, circuses, labs, farms, sanctuaries, shelters, houses, and parks are captive. The account also explains why captivity can be harmful, by depriving one of opportunities to access, enjoy or do certain things, and to do so by oneself. By the same criteria, I will now argue, captivity is more pervasive than our pre-theoretical judgments assume. 2. Pervasive animal captivity 2.1. Preliminary considerations Captivity involves abnormal restrictions on option-freedom, and whether one is captive depends on the type of restrictions at issue. This will be true of urban animals. The relational nature of captivity undergirds this potential variety. Each of the above criteria involves a relational 12 dimension. Captivity is a relation between a captor and captives, both of which can be individuals or collectives. To see this, consider that captivity is not mere inability. Schmidt (2016, 181) captures the distinction: Sources of unfreedoms are typically considered 'man-made' or 'interpersonal'. If someone locks me into her basement, for example, I am subjected to a constraint imposed by another person. Compare this with mere inabilities: the constraints that make me unable to fly to Mars or unable to run one hundred meters in under ten seconds do not seem attributable to another person ...13 Dichotomies separating natural (and wildness, wilderness) vs. man-made (and artificial) environment are inadequate; arguably, the appeal of such dualisms may explain the relative lack of interest in urban environmental among environmental ethicists (Light 2001). Still, if only for pragmatic purposes, anthropogenic constraints raise concerns that differ in kind from the effects of animals adapting to natural circumstances. By that token, not every external obstacle is a source of unfreedom, if it is under no moral agent's control to remove or prevent it (Schmidt 2016, 188-9). Captivity, as a deprivation of freedom, consists of restrictions on options imposed by a captor, or that a captor fails to lift or prevent, whether voluntarily, negligently, or through culpable ignorance. The many shapes and shades of captivity thus depend on captors' and captives' respective features. My focus in this paper is what I call pervasive captivity. 13 On Schmidt's (2016) view, a constraint makes a person unfree to X if and only if (1) someone else was morally responsible for the constraint and (2) it impedes an ability to X that the person would have in the best available distribution of abilities. This conception reconciles the negative (non-interference) and positive (ability) aspects of socio-political freedom. Schmidt's (2015) argument for animal freedom does not turn on which theory-freedom as non-interference vs. as ability-applies. 13 As we extend the scope of agency across a wide range of habitats and species, we also realize that our actions have consequences that permeate all spheres of animal life and end up restricting to some extent the agency of many animals. In the Anthropocene, human production, consumption and development have a pervasive impact on species, habitats, ecosystems, landscapes, and climate. We restrict animals' agency by keeping them confined in tight cages, crates and enclosures, but also by limiting the scope of what they can freely do outside of visible captivity. Habitat destruction and fragmentation, unfettered development, and climate change together affect the conditions under which animals had long evolved to thrive. Since even protected areas like natural reserves are heavily monitored, regulated and spatially bounded, there are few tracts of land, air or sea where animals are not in some way and to some extent confined, controlled and dependent on human agency. That is, they are captive. Just as human/nonhuman boundaries collapse along the agency spectrum, so does the captive/wild boundary (also see Bekoff and Pierce 2017; Donaldson and Kymlicka 2017; Jamieson 2017). Is there then something special about urban areas among other human communities? As noted early on, I take urban wildlife as a specific case study of pervasive captivity. Human communities alter landscapes such that they constrain animals' behavior, migration, and hunting grounds, through fences, traps, and other barriers, potentially making them dependent on those changes, and exercise some control over those populations. Pervasive captivity thus applies to natural parks, wildlife reserves, and rural farming communities, because it interferes with their options-freedoms in ways that do not allow for substitutability.14 Urban wildlife is one striking illustration of pervasive captivity, but there are others. Consider each of Gruen's criteria as they apply to at least some of urban wildlife. 14 For an illustration of the problem, consider the ecological objections to President Trump's "border wall." See e.g. https://www.vox.com/energy-and-environment/2017/4/10/14471304/trump-border-wall-animals (Accessed April 14 (i) Confined: their range of movement is severely restricted to, or between, particular urban areas; their migration can be thwarted or constrained by features of the urban landscape (buildings, roads, bridges, power plants, wires, fences, lights, etc.). Because the restrictions are severe relative to their natural range, many populations are confined, not just excluded. (ii) Controlled: individuals, organizations, institutions, practices, patterns of behavior shape and constrain, locally or globally, individually or collectively, their options. Once again, control here is understood to be severe relative to a natural baseline. (iii) Dependent: in part because of (i) and (ii), urban animals are reliant on human provision or waste and specific ecological niches for meeting their basic needs, including reproduction, which is shaped by practices of culling and birth control. Along each of (i)-(iii), animals' options can be restricted, hence animals can be unfree.15 While each applies to some degree to many urban animals, there is variety in both degree and kind, depending on species and urban ecology. Cities are not homogenous (internally and with respect to each other); each is home to diversity of species, places and arrangements. So, we should expect the particular contributions of each factor to cause various degrees and kinds of captivity. 14, 2019). 15 In my view, captivity is stronger when the sources of (i)-(iii) coincide, but the captor can be distributed across different sources jointly constitutive of captivity. For instance, one may take advantage of natural barrier (water, cliffs, or predators) to exert control over a particular population and make it dependent. The factors can also interact; for instance, dependence can induce confinement, as when workers or children are confined because they depend on a living wage or parental care. Dependence is both a consequence and an enforcement mechanism of captivity. 15 2.2. Types of urban captivity In one of the first philosophical discussions of urban animals, Clare Palmer (2003a) analyzed the effects of urbanization on animals through the metaphor of "colonization," drawing on Foucault's work on power. Neither the metaphor nor Foucault's work will be central to my account (although it is interesting to note that the metaphor is apt to describe both human and nonhuman movements into one another's territory) and Palmer was also not concerned with captivity. My nod to her work does not imply that she took her account to imply my thesis. These caveats aside, features of colonization-displacement, dispossession, and transformation-are key to pervasive captivity. And Palmer offered a taxonomy of urban humananimal relationships that illustrates its diversity: death/avoidance, scavenging, immigration, display.16 The effects of urbanization are varied, but the most visible ones are spatial. Besides the destruction, fragmentation and alteration of their habitat, animals are killed, repelled, 'translocated', excluded by fences, wires, roads, and impasses, confined to protected places, or accommodated by nesting sites, underpasses, corridors, and road warning signs. Thus, given the continuous movement of urbanization, affected wildlife is continuously on the move; urbanization affects animals' range of movement and choice, for exploring, foraging, mating, nesting, migrating, resting, etc. Palmer's taxonomy brings together the different ways in which this feature is realized. 16 The categories jointly exhaust the possibilities but are not mutually exclusive-a feature rather than a bug given the porous and fluid processes they seek to capture. I leave out display, which involves captivity is a less interesting sense (e.g. zoos, circuses, and parks). 16 2.2.1. Avoiding One strategy deployed by urbanizing communities is to simply eliminate unwanted populations, through shooting, trapping, poisoning, or gassing. But since, Palmer notes, animals are often made invisible by colonization, targeted elimination is relatively rare. Animals are more likely to be killed or displaced accidentally. Animals typically respond to disturbance by immediate "flight" or "flush" behavior and, over time, learned avoidance (Theobold et al. 1997, 26; Palmer 2003a, 50), for instance by shifting from diurnal to nocturnal activity. Whether adaptations reflect heritable evolutionary changes, phenotypic plasticity, or social learning is disputed; they probably involve some combination. Regardless, for many animals, urbanization leads to major adjustments in pursuit of their needs, desires and preferences, which (as discussed in section 3) may or may not affect their welfare. For instance, disturbances include attenuated physiological responses to stressors (reflected in bolder behavior) in order to avoid stress overload (Atwell et al. 2012). Ample evidence shows that birds of many species alter their songs in response to anthropogenic noise pollution, singing louder and at higher frequencies than their rural counterparts. Urban species have adapted to city life, to smaller homes and novel food sources, altered their sleeping and foraging patterns, learned how to cross busy roads, where to hide, rest and mate. 2.2.2. Scavenging Scavengers raise distinctive issues: they seem to live with us willingly. Avoidance and scavenging thus point in opposite directions: confined either outside or within human range (with some intermediate cases like coyotes). 17 Some scavengers are "described as colonizers of urban areas, rather than as colonized beings moving in spaces they formerly occupied" and considered "unwelcome", pests or vermin, because of what Foucault called "unruly bodies'' (Palmer 2003a, 51). In U.S. metropolitan areas, rats, pigeons, squirrels, raccoons, and roaches come to mind; foxes, grey (vs. red) squirrels, and badgers in the U.K.; bears, monkeys, panthers, pigs and goats elsewhere. Scavenger unruliness is constitutive (they were not deliberately shaped or bred) and behavioral (e.g., urination and defecation, smelling, rummaging in trashcans, eating refuse, unrestrained whereabouts) (ibid). Conceding habitat, these "animals are 'canalized' into particular paths and routes by fences, walls and other obstacles." (ibid) Hostile responses to unruliness curtail their options even further. Many scavengers are partly dependent on human provision, whether directly (feeding) or indirectly (leftovers and garbage). Sometimes voluntary human provision made them dependent. For example, mallards on a riverbank benefit "from the warmer urban climate and longer ice-free periods" and humans welcome them. (p. 52) They then become dependent. Initially very adaptable, they adjust to humans, becoming not only more docile and less fearful, but also increasingly reliant on them for their basic needs. The ensuing "docile body" is still constitutively wild but desirable enough to earn human affection. The relationship, however intended by humans and "seductive" on the part of ducks, is not symmetric. Were humans to withdraw provision, or to suddenly consider them undesirable, the ducks would be adversely affected; humans would not. Their dependence has made them especially vulnerable as they traded their adaptability for docility. Eastern gray squirrels and street pigeons tell a similar story. Feeding them used to be quasi-institutionalized in some places where it has become illegal (Jerolmack 2013; Palmer 2003b; Benson 2013). As they became dependent on human provision, animals gradually lost options to escape, evolving in particular niches and losing skills required to adapt to 18 unexpected changes.17 These animals are trapped in the niche they have constructed (which alters the nature of their organisms and/or population): they are (i) confined to where their odds of survival are highest; (ii) controlled by "external practices,"18 including those that result in docility and desirability; (iii) and dependent, largely as a result of (i) and (ii). Animals that best succeed are opportunists or generalists with flexible diets and dispositions to problem-solve, such as coyotes (Gehrt 2004, Gehrt et al. 2011, Lowry et al. 2013). Other species, niche specialists as well as some introduced exotics and feral animals are less flexible and therefore more vulnerable to change (Donaldson and Kymlicka 2011, 221-226). In urban contexts, boldness and curiosity will pay off for many (e.g., raccoons, house sparrows); neophobia and wariness for others (e.g., coyotes, many birds). Coyote expert Stanley Gehrt and his colleagues note that the urban coyote appears to be behaviorally misanthropic (e.g., strong spatial and temporal avoidance of people) but demographically synanthropic (e.g., elevated survival and density, possibly reproduction). This unique combination has likely played an important role in the success of coyotes in urban areas (Gehrt et al. 2011, 17). 17 Some animals manifest dispositional, "noncognitive trust" (Palmer 2003b, 75; Becker 1996). They thus have expectations that we can betray without notice. 18 External practices are, on Foucault's view, practices that affect the bodies and environments of animals, including confinement, isolation, eviction, castration, mutilations, etc. (Palmer 2001, 355) 19 Coyotes are nonetheless captive: (i) largely precluded from avoiding us for lack of alternatives; (ii) monitored and managed by animal control and wildlife services; (iii) reliant on urban areas to the extent that they owe their success to their "demographical synanthropy".19 Street pigeons (as opposed to homer, show and wild pigeons) thrive in urbanized environments, but they are largely dependent on human provision, subject to human control, and confined to urban spaces. "Conditioned by the genes of their cliff-dwelling and ground-feeding ancestors, and by selective breeding," writes sociologist Colin Jerolmack (2013, 73), they "do not even retreat to sewers, trees, or parks to defecate, mate, and live, as do so many other animals." They are synanthropes who prefer the built environment (p. 11), yet we tend to perceive them as dirty, "unwelcome 'invaders'"20 (p. 7). In fact, pigeons are geographically restricted by their reliance on society. Even though their ancestors, Rock doves, partly domesticated themselves (and then escaped pigeons started to populate cities), many restrictions make them captive.21 A striking case is that of the pigeons of Trafalgar Square, London, and Piazza San Marco, Venice, who "have been tamed [and] ... become fully dependent on people for food and have stopped scavenging." (p. 74) As their dependence grew, their status shifted: "both sites famously hosted vendors who sold pigeon feed. It was a tradition for visitors to allow the ravenous flocks of 19 Recent evidence suggests that in coyote parents who experience extended contact with humans, habituation leads, through phenotypic plasticity, to the transfer of fearlessness to their offspring over the course of just a couple generations. Each litter of pups was bolder than the previous litter (Schell et al. 2018)-and advantage as well as a risk in urban areas. 20 Epidemiologists consider the public health risk of pigeons very low, even though the annual cost of their damage to property in the U.S. might be as high as $1.1 billion (Jerolmack 2013, 9). 21 Comparisons with their wild counterparts are hard because street pigeons "never existed in the wild." (Jerolmack 2013, 10) 20 pigeons to land on their shoulders and eat from their hands." (p. 6) Then both cities decided to evict the vendors, to redefine pigeons as 'rats with wings' and to ban feeding (geese, gulls, crows and starlings are also 'rats with wings' to many). Accordingly, many cities implement forms of control, from futile anti-pigeon tactics (plastic owls, spikes, sounds of raptors, shooting, electrocuting, poisoning...) to the criminalization of feeding. They also attempt to relocate them from their "improper" to their (imaginary) "proper" place (Philo 1998, Philo and Wilbert 2000); "like weeds in the cracks of pavement, pigeons represent chaotic, untamed nature in spaces designated for humans" (Jerolmack, p. 73) Is this confinement or merely exclusion? I guess it depends on cases, but as writes Jerolmack, because they are considered "out of place," there are few other places for street pigeons to be: "Columba livia is now a 'homeless' species, surviving in the urban interstices off of society's occasional generosity and its refuse." (ibid.) 2.2.3. Immigrating Let me briefly mention Palmer's third category, exotic species that colonize urbanizing areas. Whether to remedy damage or conflicts, or because of stigmatization, nonnative animals face aggressive practices of control, confinement, or extermination by public health departments, animal organizations and pest control businesses. Public and private actors police their whole lives "and ultimately [determine] whether or not they continue to live." (Palmer 2003a, 54) Insofar as they cannot relocate they are confined to restricted territories; insofar as they adapt they may become dependent on their new habitat. They are, either way, captive.22 22 Illustrating a fluid taxonomy, "display" animals such as parakeets can escape from their intended captivity, thus moving to the category of immigrants. Migratory species may not be concerned as long as they retain their ability to migrate. 21 Across these different types of urban human-animal relationships captivity can arise. Whether animals will avoid or seek out humans is a matter of personality, with great variability across species, regions, rural versus urban, as well as individuals (Gehrt et al. 2011; Lowry et al. 2013; Miranda et al. 2013). Despite differences, we can pick out the defining features of captivity. Many urban animals are confined, physically, spatially and behaviorally; subjected to control, both deliberate and accidental, over their agency, habitat, or simply whether, where and how long they live; dependent on the environment they have adapted to and on human tolerance or assistance, thus foreclosing alternatives. Further, once they have been shaped by urbanization, animals- whether individuals, populations or species-can become constitutionally captive (see Horowitz 2014 and section 3). On the other hand, degrees of freedom (e.g. to avoid or relocate) and types of restrictions yield varying degrees and types of captivity. For instance, mountain lions in Southern California, I would argue, are captive but they are not heavily dependent (see e.g. P-22's profile in Goodyear 2017; also see Riley et al. 2006); conversely, street pigeons are quite dependent, but their confinement is less striking (both are subject to control). Still, both pigeons and mountain lions see their agency impaired as a result of urbanization, whether externally (the lions' habitat) or internally (the pigeons' dispositions). These are all illustrations of the ambivalence of pervasive captivity. In fact, as the next section explains, it isn't clear in what sense their captivity should be considered significant. I will now address an important question about the value of captivity for urban animals. 22 3. Cushy captivity Animals can be kept for their own good, such as pets or animals in sanctuaries and shelters. Some people even argue that animals in labs, farms and zoos can have good lives they otherwise not have. Yet many people believe that life in captivity is bad. So, the Cushy Captivity objection goes, because animals are not worse off in cities and captivity is necessarily harmful, whether instrumentally or intrinsically, they are not captive. For instance, gaining access to food is a way for coyotes to enhance their freedom; cities all provide freedom from predation to smaller animals. And many animals appear to assent (at least not dissent) to urban life (although species themselves never chose to). In what follows, I offer two replies to this objection. Note that my general view of captivity does not turn on the truth of a particular theory of well-being. Objective-list (i), hedonistic (ii) and desire-fulfilment (iii) theories (Parfit 1987, Appendix I) can all plausibly claim that urban animals are not worse off, because (i) they fare well enough on other counts on the list, such as health, integrity, pleasure, or social relations; or (ii) their balance of pleasant experiences is net positive; or (iii) most of their preferences are satisfied (otherwise, you'd think, they would relocate). But all theories can also claim that urban animals are harmed by captivity. 3.1. Adaptive preferences We could start by denying that urban animals flourish; and even if they once did, they no longer do. There are examples of species whose individual members clearly do not fare the best they could. Case in point, urban pigeons have shorter life-expectancies and higher mortality rates, suffer more from debilitating injuries, impairments, and diseases, and may be exposed to more direct threats (e.g., hawks, owls, cats, humans) than their rural counterparts. Few pigeons in NYC 23 live over a couple years; even then, their lives are often miserable.23 As explained below, how species and individuals fare are distinct questions. We can also appeal to the notion of adaptive preferences (see Elster [1983]; Nussbaum [2001, chapter 2] and [2006, 343-4]), that is, preferences formed or changed, typically subconsciously, under bad or unjust conditions such as profoundly limited sets of options. If we assume that urban animals have formed or changed preferences under such conditions, having preferences that track their situation provides little evidence that they would otherwise maintain them. Instead, animals accustomed to urban life may have adjusted their preferences toward something suboptimal, and this may include captivity (like coyotes become bold even at their own expense). Now, not all changes in preferences, even those due to bad or unjust conditions, are necessarily illegitimate or inauthentic. So, even while one may not infer from an animal's preference to stay in an environment that this environment is better for them, their preference is not necessarily adaptive. Moreover, even if it was adaptive, it would necessarily be bad for them. Still, I believe a case can be made that at least some of urban animals' preferences are driven, suboptimally, by a need to cope with an environment to which they have to adapt. This is because, as already argued, their range of options is sometimes severely restricted, so we should expect some of their preferences to be adaptive. Adaptive preferences and captivity may even be co-constitutive. A helpful analogy is that of a Stockholm syndrome, where hostages and victims of kidnapping come to prefer their captivity.24 Because they see no possible escape, victims modify their set of preferences, including 23 On this point I am indebted to conversation with Colin Jerolmack. 24 Barnes (2016, 127) also connects adaptive preferences and Stockholm syndrome. 24 their preference for escape. While such coping mechanisms can be effective ways to compensate for welfare loss under unfavorable conditions (e.g. pacing in response to stress, anxiety, and boredom in zoos), they are not reliable indicators of good welfare. In fact, adaptive preferences can signal impaired autonomy and welfare. So, an adaptive preference for captivity does not make it valuable. My reply is not that having adaptive preferences are necessarily prudentially bad (or irrational ones to have)25; simply that, when one has such preferences they do not reliably indicate how well one's life is going, especially if, as with animals, we cannot collect first person testimony. Thus, ethological preference testing may not help much to identify how well animals are doing in the circumstances, given their limited options; what animals prefer under the circumstances is at best a partial indicator of the choices they could make.26 In sum, just because rats, pigeons and coyotes appear to thrive among us does not mean that we cannot do better and enhance their freedoms. The relevant baseline for identifying relevant needs and/or preferences need not be a romanticized rural life; rather: an urban ecosystem that could accommodate their freedom. Objective-list and (informed) desirefulfillment theories of well-being can agree with this diagnosis. In Parfit's words, We should also appeal to the desires and preferences that I would have had, in the various alternatives that were, at different times, open to me. One of these alternatives would be best for me if it is the one in which I would have the strongest desires and 25 One may plausibly argue that adaptive preferences as such are not necessarily bad or irrational (Barnes 2009; Bruckner 2009; Terlazzo 2017). 26 We should not conflate population flourishing with individual welfare. Many of the adaptations that facilitate urban life are not prudentially beneficial or harmful. Mutations and genetic drift are random processes irrelevant to welfare. 25 preferences fulfilled. This allows us to claim that some alternative life would have been better for me, even if throughout my actual life I am glad that I chose this life rather than this alternative. (Parfit 1987, 496) The hedonist should agree. Or else they must show that one's mental states are not biased by options and could not be improved under different circumstances. But it is clearly relevant whether one's life could have been better (even hedonistically) had one taken a different path. 3.2. Value-neutrality and harmfulness Let us concede for a moment that urban animals are better off in some respects than other wild animals, or than they would otherwise be. Rats are great city-dwellers, for example. Large cities like Chicago, Los Angeles and New York are testaments to their remarkable adaptations to urban ecosystems. If they are captive, captivity does not seem to bother them. Rats may be better off as urban captives. They might be living in cushy captivity. Assuming this is true of rats, what of most urban animals? First, recall that captivity admits of various degrees and kinds. A mountain gorilla in a zoo and a mountain lion in the Santa Monica Mountains are not captive in similar ways. More importantly, how these animals fare overall is orthogonal to whether they are captive. Not every captivity has to be harmful overall, even if it is harmful with respect to freedom. And even when captivity is harmful, freedom may not be an option if there is no alternative where one would be better off. Just like captive-bred chimpanzees would not benefit from being returned to the wild, urban animals may face a "dilemma of captivity" (Gruen 2011) if they have been altered physically and behaviorally. Maybe some animals would be freer if they were translocated to preserved habitats, but maybe they would be worse off for it. 26 We can learn from dogs here. Alexandra Horowitz argues that dogs are constitutionally captive. "Their brain structure, and, as a correlate, cognition, has been altered. They no longer have the perceptual acuity to survive outside of human civilization." (Horowitz 2014, 13). What it means to flourish as a domestic dog (Canis familiaris), as opposed to their wolf ancestors (Canis lupus), entails captivity. Pet keeping practices can be harmful and maybe dogs could have been better off had they not co-evolved with us, but as things stand, dogs are "a species who was selected to be kept" and is too "dependent on us for food and protection (p. 18). A dog's captivity is de facto compatible with the most freedom possible "within the constraints of his speciesdom." As individuals, however, dogs can be subject to different levels and kinds of confinement and restriction (physical, social, sexual, sensory, dietary). Freedom can be enhanced within constitutional captivity. Similarly, I submit, captivity could be compatible with the most freedom possible for some urban animals. In sum, captivity is not harmful simpliciter, but only depending on context and relative to alternatives.27 For those whose well-being is contingent on the confines of captivity it can be locally bad (freedom-wise) yet globally good.28 My response to Cushy Captivity has two prongs: first, urban animals' preferences and adaptations are not reliably reflective of their welfare; second, the relation between welfare and captivity depends on how it affects a creature's interests on the whole. Of course, something else is true of urban animals who benefit all things considered from their captivity: it is probably not morally wrong to treat them so. This, again, speaks to the second prong. But the point stands: if they don't benefit globally, the fact that 27 DeGrazia (2011, 741), too, argues that restrictions of liberty are only harmful when they "significantly interfere with an individual's ability to live well." 28 Barnes (2016) argues for a value-neutral view ("mere difference") of disability. 27 animals benefit locally does not rule out the possibility that their freedoms could be enhanced (or less severely diminished). With these caveats in mind, pervasive captivity does have ethical implications, to which I now turn. 4. The ethics of pervasive captivity Even though my analysis of captivity per se is morally neutral, captivity often matters morally, when it frustrates morally significant interests related to one's option-freedoms, whether in relation to mental states, preferences, or an objective list. This section outlines what normative implications we can draw from the descriptive groundwork I laid out. I have used the terms free and captive as contrast terms along a spectrum. Most urban animals are freer than most zoo animals; fully wild animals are also constrained by their environment;29 some urban animals are not globally worse off for being captive. In pervasive captivity, wild animals are not visibly confined and have more room to express their agency.30 Still, there is a clear sense in which urban animals are typically less free than fully wild animals, 29 The agency of wild animals is impaired by natural forces (predation, parasites, competition, weather...). But natural forces aren't captors, even when the agency of some animals is the determining source of constraint. Not because captivity must be intended as such, but because it is something that is under our control. Our pervasive impact on animals is thus qualitatively different from the impact that animals have on one another. This doesn't mean that we lack reasons to be concerned about the freedom of wild animals (e.g. our ability to intervene to make their lives better might be sufficient to ground an obligation), and I am not denying that our responsibility could extend further than I argue here. But urbanization leads other species to coexist with each other in more or less peaceful ways over which we have some control (see e.g. Mueller et al. 2018 on coyotes and red foxes). 30 Streiffer and Killoren (2018) offer an account of agential (as opposed to comparative) confinement that is narrower than my account since it involves the intention to confine, often "for the purposes or interests of others," which amounts to use. They would consider pervasive captivity a mere form of exclusion. What matters, I submit, is that there be intentional agents who could (have) act(ed) in ways that do not significantly impair agency. 28 and captive yet freer than zoo, lab or farm animals. Pervasive captivity involves some degree of freedom (of movement and choice of mate, den or food), but only within significant anthropogenic constraints. Because captivity is context-dependent, its moral significance varies according to two factors: the type of restrictions (along dimensions of confinement, control and dependence) and the strength of one's freedom-based interests. In section 1, I noted a common moral presumption against keeping animals captive without proper justification. On this presumption, captivity is pro tanto and locally harmful to animals if they have an interest in the sort of freedom that captivity thwarts, and it is wrong to cause it without proper justification. As noted, there are cases of constitutional or beneficial captivity in which the presumption fails to imply that we should act differently. Still, where restrictions interfere with central option-freedoms in ways that do not allow for substitutability, captivity is harmful. Let me now sketch how my account could fit with a broad view of our duties to wild animals. 4.1. Relational positive obligations If urban communities are a morally distinctive type of community, they are plausibly the source of distinctive obligations. If, as Palmer writes, "in most cases humans are causally responsible for the presence of animals" and "these urban animals are directly or indirectly dependent on humans for life support" (2003b, 68); if, further, we are causally responsible, through actions or omissions, for their (harmful) captivity and we assume that moral responsibility tracks causal responsibility, then we have positive obligations to urban captives (like we have duties of assistance to those who depend on us or whom we made vulnerable; Palmer 2010). This is true even in cases where captivity is unintended-when its causes were under our control but we 29 acted negligently and failed to prevent or lift the relevant obstacles. At the very least, we have a negative duty not to abnormally restrict urban animals' freedoms and, positively, we "owe relict populations of wild animals space in which to continue to make a living" (Palmer 2003b, 71)-I would add: even if those spaces are amongst us.31 Insofar as their ability to exercise their freedoms entails an adequate background environment, over which we have direct control, our duties extend to shaping better urban ecosystems. Donaldson and Kymlicka (2011, chapter 7) go further in arguing for denizenship rights for "liminal" animals, based on their distinctive type of community membership. Liminal animals are neither members of "wild sovereign communities" (with rights to territory and autonomy) nor "domesticated animal citizens" (with full membership rights), but denizens with rights of residency and accommodation. And, they argue, we should give liminal animals the option to co-author our mutual relations, for instance the option to "opt in" to or "opt out" of (citizenship or denizenship). Raccoons in Toronto opted in to denizenship; feral horses in Wyoming opted out of citizenship. Pervasive captivity, it seems, would compromise their ability to exercise that choice. 4.2. Policy and challenges Discharging our positive and negative duties involves urban planning, green spaces and research and education about coexistence with urban wildlife, roles that various animal protection 31 Hadley (2015) argues for property rights for wild animals, but he is ambivalent about the implications for citydwellers (p. 68). 30 organizations, urban ecologists and urban planners can endorse.32 Building more "compassionate" cities might involve: building green rooftops and green walls, planting native vegetation around homes and buildings, reducing the spatial footprint of buildings, implementing nighttime lights-out campaigns, restricting the use of highly reflective glass and glass facades that disorient birds, enforcing noise restrictions, and developing and maintaining nature corridors (Bekoff 2014, 91-92). We can also contrast different elements of urban design. Compare bird spikes (hostile) and bird tree-houses (friendly). In 2009, a firm of architects won the Wildlife Design Competition to reintroduce urban wildlife in Holbeck Urban Village in South Leeds, UK. Garnett Netherwood Architects proposed an 'Urban Takeback' design, a tree-house style tower block recycled from old buildings (it's unclear how much progress has been made since then).33 The city of Los Angeles is carving 'pocket parks' into the urban landscape that could re-attract displaced wildlife.34 As part of its Urban Wildlife Conservation Program, the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service oversees wildlife refuges at the edge of urban areas across the country to support preserved areas 32 See, for instance, the Lincoln Park Zoo's Urban Wildlife Institute (http://www.lpzoo.org/urban-wildlifeinstitute/) and guidelines from the HSUS (http://www.humanesociety.org/animals/wild_neighbors/) (Accessed April 11, 2019). 33 See http://www.bbc.co.uk/leeds/content/articles/2009/06/01/places_holbeck_wildlife_design_feature.shtml (Accessed April 11, 2019). 34 See https://www.scpr.org/news/2012/08/22/33979/la-partners-carve-pockets-parks-out-urban-core/ (Accessed April 11, 2019). 31 or connect discrete patches of habitat.35 While these examples are ways of endorsing our responsibility to urban populations, sanctuaries and wildlife rehabilitators also assist individuals that are injured or orphaned. These various accommodations go some way toward providing the adequate background environment for urban animals to exercise their freedoms. Developing these ethical implications is of course not without difficulty.36 The first challenge is to pick a baseline to make claims about abnormal restrictions; and to decide on a level of analysis: species, population, and/or individual needs and personality traits? We would need to consult urban ecologists and animal cognition and behavior experts. Another question is whether the captives are individuals or groups. The metaphor of colonization seems to imply a group-level form of captivity-communities or peoples are colonized. Perhaps, similarly, while particular animals are harmed by urbanization, it is a species (or population) that is captive to the city. Moreover, the obligations and corresponding policies-wildlife management, urban planning-seem best described at the group-level. This as a genuine concern, but insofar as a group is captive, its individual members will also be, even if the group's captivity is not just the sum of the captivities of its members. The second challenge is to identify the responsible agents. The positive obligations may often be collective, and the captors typically unstructured, temporally extended collectives. Coyotes, say, become captive as a result of a loose aggregate of discrete actions-fencing, landscaping, construction, driving, agriculture, etc., none of which may be sufficient by itself and which all occur at different intersecting local and global levels of analysis (town, county, state, 35 See U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service: https://www.fws.gov/urban/wildlifeRefuges.php (Accessed April 11, 2019). 36 I'm indebted to Clair Morrissey in the next two paragraphs. 32 region...), potentially involving conflicting jurisdictions (e.g. between state and federal government concerning wild horses in Wyoming37). Furthermore, the political borders that define the human communities that could discharge collective obligations do not map only the natural boundaries of the territories and ranges of urban animals. This, too, is a genuine challenge. Still, just because collective harms raise complex issues for moral responsibility doesn't mean there is no moral wrong to account for. Different but compatible levels of analysis interact. The difficulty doesn't mean we cannot pick out agents who are in a position to act, such as urban planners, architects and designers, policy-makers, animal control and wildlife management agencies, animal and environmental organizations, and a range of private and public stakeholders. In fact, insofar as the problem is one of justice, we should create the institutions that will support justice to urban wildlife. Accordingly, different causal contributions (e.g. accidental vs. intentional) and different capacities and roles among these actors ground different levels and types of responsibility. Finally, there may be conflicts to adjudicate among competing goals and values-those of biodiversity and population management vs. individual welfare, or public health vs. animal welfare, for instance. There may be trade-offs, such that in order to decrease the impact of urbanization on habitat we compromise the welfare of present individuals; or we might have to sterilize some individuals to control population, which in turns benefit other individuals. These are genuine ethical and practical challenges, but their importance should not diminish the ethical significance of pervasive captivity. If anything, they demand that we think more, not less, about the issue. 37 See https://www.wyomingpublicmedia.org/term/wild-horses#stream/0 (Accessed April 16, 2019). 33 Conclusion If we are bound to coexist with urban wildlife we must consider how urbanization affects animals' freedoms.38 Urban life may have become a new form of life for these animals, and one they enjoy or benefit from, but this need not imply that we should not be concerned with promoting their well-being, including as regards their freedom, from within the boundaries of that form of life. We can and should help them adapt to their new environment by helping them construct the niches that support their well-being.39 To sum up, then, wild animals can benefit from but are vulnerable to cities. And we need not claim that their lives are worse than they would be, say, in rural areas to agree that they are captive. But seeing these animals as captive sheds light on ways their lives could be better. I have argued that, insofar as they are confined, controlled and dependent, urban animals are captive and that seeing them in this light has ethical implications. One could argue that captivity is orthogonal to a case for building more sustainable and compassionate cities; perhaps we might reach similar conclusions without appealing to the idea of pervasive captivity. Still, the idea sheds light on a neglected aspect of urban ecosystems, and therefore on a neglected yet significant interest-a pragmatic framing benefit, if anything. The precise shape, content and strength of our responsibilities remains to be determined, but I hope to have shown that they may be greater than we assume, and that they involve regard for their interest in freedom. 38 These obligations do not preempt other duties or virtues. For instance, Michelfedler (2018) argues that an ethic of care generates obligations of attentiveness, flexibility, adjustment, and hospitality. 39 Should we then enhance them, like we might genetically engineer species to help them adapt to climate change (socalled facilitated adaptation) (Palmer 2016)? I cannot explore these questions here. The enhancements I am considering are mainly environmental, but there may be permissible forms of genetic engineering that promote agency and flourishing. 34 Acknowledgments. Ideas in this paper originated from three years of teaching "Keeping Animals" at New York University. I'm indebted in more ways than I can remember to conversations with my students and guest speakers (including Hillary Angelo and Lori Gruen). Anna Frostic and Jonathan Lovvorn from the Humane Society of the US provided helpful tips on the scarcity of legal protections covering urban wildlife. Previous drafts received valuable feedback from audiences at the University of Chicago (Animal/Nonhuman Workshop, Urban Workshop, and Law and Philosophy Workshop), at the 2018 Pacific Meeting of the APA in San Diego, CA, and at New College of Florida, as well as from Mark Berger, Karen Bradshaw, Bob Fischer, William Hubbard, Dale Jamieson, Colin Jerolmack, Jeff Johnson, Ben Laurence, Duncan Purves, Emma Saunders-Hastings, and Jim Wilson. I am particularly indebted Zoe Hughes, Clair Morrissey, and Martha Nussbaum for detailed feedback, and to two anonymous referees for Ethics, Policy, & Environment for their helpful comments. References Atwell, J. W. et al. 2012. Boldness behavior and stress physiology in a novel urban environment suggest rapid evolutionary adaptation. Behavioral Ecology 23(5): 960-969 Barnes, Elizabeth. 2016. The Minority Body: A Theory of Disability. Oxford: Oxford University Press Barnes, Elizabeth. 2009. Disability and adaptive preference. Philosophical Perspectives 23(1):1-22 Becker, Lawrence. 1996. Trust as noncognitive security about motives. Ethics 107(1): 42-61 Bekoff, Marc and Jessica Pierce. 2017. The Animals' Agenda: Freedom, Compassion, and Coexistence in the Human Age. Boston: Beacon Press Bekoff, Marc. 2014. Rewilding our Hearts: Building Passways of Compassion and Coexistence. Novato: New World Library 35 Benson, Etienne. 2013. The Urbanization of the Eastern Gray Squirrel in the United States, Journal of American History 100(3): 691-710 Bruckner, Donald W. 2009. In Defense of Adaptive Preferences. Philosophical Studies 142(3): 307324 Cochrane, Alasdair. 2012. Animal Rights Without Liberation. New York: Columbia University Press Cochrane, Alasdair. 2009. Do Animals Have an Interest in Liberty? Political Studies 57: 660-79 DeGrazia, David. 2011. The Ethics of Confining Animals: From Farms to Zoos to Human Homes. In Beauchamp, T. and Frey, R. G. (eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Ethics and Animals (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), pp. 738-768 Delon, Nicolas. 2018. Animal agency, captivity, and meaning. Harvard Review of Philosophy 25:127146 Donaldson, Sue, and Will Kymlicka. 2016. Between Wildness and Domestication: Rethinking Categories and Boundaries in Response to Animal Agency. In Bernice Bovenkerk and Jozef Keulartz (eds.), Animal Ethics in the Age of Humans: Blurring boundaries of human-animal relationships (Springer), pp. 225-39 Donaldson, Sue, and Will Kymlicka. 2011. Zoopolis: A Political Theory of Animal Rights. Oxford: Oxford University Press Elster, Jon. 1983. Sour Grapes: Studies in the Subversion of Rationality. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Gehrt, Stanley. 2004. Ecology and management of striped skunks, raccoons, and coyotes in urban landscapes. In Fascione, N., Delach, A., and M. Smith (eds), People and predators: from conflict to conservation (Washington, DC: Island Press), pp. 81-104 Gehrt, S. D., Brown, J. L., and C. Anchor. 2011. Is the urban coyote a misanthropic 36 synanthrope? The case from Chicago. Cities and the Environment 4(1) Goodyear, Dana. 201. Valley cats. The New Yorker, February 13 & 20, 201, pp. 44-51 Gruen, Lori. 2002. Refocusing environmental ethics: From intrinsic value to endorsable valuations. Philosophy and Geography 5(2): 153-164 Gruen, Lori. 2011. Ethics and Animals. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Gruen, Lori, ed. 2014. The Ethics of Captivity. Oxford: Oxford University Press Hadley, John. 2015. Animal Property Rights: A Theory of Habitat Rights for Wild Animals. Lexington Books Horowitz, Alexandra. 2014. Canis Familiaris: Companion and captive. In Gruen (2014), pp. 7-21 Jamieson, Dale. 2017. Animals and ethics, agents and patients. In Kristin Andrews and Jacob Beck (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Philosophy of Animal Minds, Routledge Jamieson, Dale. 2003. Morality's Progress. Oxford: Oxford University Press Jerolmack, Colin. 2013. The Global Pigeon. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press Leahy, Michael. 1991. Against Liberation: Putting Animals in Perspective. London: Routledge Light, Andrew. 2001. The Urban Blind Spot in Environmental Ethics, Environmental Politics 10(1):7-35 Light, Andrew and Wellman, Christopher H. 2003. Introduction: Urban environmental ethics. Journal of Social Philosophy 34(1):1-5 Lowry, H., Lill, A. and B. B. M. Wong. 2013. Behavioural responses of wildlife to urban environments. Biological Reviews, 88 (3): 537-549 Michelfelder, Diane P. 2018. Urban Wildlife Ethics. Environmental Ethics 40(2):101-117 Michelfelder, Diane P. 2003. Valuing Wildlife Populations in Urban Environments. Journal of Social Philosophy 34(1):79-90 37 Miranda, A. C., Schielzeth, H., Sonntag, T. and J. Partecke. 2013. Urbanization and its effects on personality traits: a result of microevolution or phenotypic plasticity? Global Change Biology 19: 2634-2644 Mueller, M. A., Drake, D. and Allen, M. L. 2018. Coexistence of coyotes (Canis latrans) and red foxes (Vulpes vulpes) in an urban landscape. PLOS ONE 13(1): e0190971. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0190971 Nussbaum, Martha C. 2001. Women and Human Development: The Capabilities Approach. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Nussbaum, Martha C. 2006. Frontiers of Justice: Disability, Nationality, Species Membership. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press Palmer, Clare. 2001. "Taming the wild profusion of existing things"?: A study of Foucault, power, and human/animal relationships. Environmental Ethics 23 (4):339-358 Palmer, Clare. 2003a. Colonization, urbanization, and animals. Philosophy and Geography 6 (1):47-58 Palmer, Clare. 2003b. Placing animals in urban environmental ethics. Journal of Social Philosophy 34 (1):64-78 Palmer, Clare. 2010. Animal Ethics in Context. New York: Columbia University Press Palmer, Clare. 2016. Saving Species but Losing Wildness: Should We Genetically Adapt Wild Animal Species to Help Them Respond to Climate Change? Midwest Studies in Philosohpy 40(1): 234-251 Parfit, Derek. 1987. Reasons and Persons. Oxford: Clarendon Press Philo, Chris. 1998. Animals, geography, and the city: Notes on inclusions and exclusions. In Wolch, J., Emel, J. (eds), Animal Geographies (London: Verso), pp. 51-71 Philo, Chris, and Chris Wilbert, eds. 2000. Animal Spaces, Beastly Places, London: Routledge 38 Rachels, James. 1976. Do Animals Have a Right to Liberty? In T. Regan and P. Singer (eds.), Animal Rights and Human Obligations (pp. 205-223), Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall Riley, S. P. D. et al. 2006. A southern California freeway is a physical and social barrier to gene flow in carnivores. Molecular Ecology 15: 1733-1741 Rivera, Lisa. 2014. Coercion and captivity. In Gruen (2014.), pp. 248-271 Schell, CJ, Young, JK, Lonsdorf, EV, Santymire, RM, Mateo, JM. 2018. Parental habituation to human disturbance over time reduces fear of humans in coyote offspring. Ecology and Evolution 8: 12965-80 Schmidt, Andreas T. 2015. Why animals have an interest in freedom. Historical Social Research, 40(4): 92-109 Schmidt, Andreas T. 2016. Abilities and the sources of unfreedom. Ethics 127(1): 179-207 Sebo, Jeff. 2017. Agency and Moral Status. The Journal of Moral Philosophy 14(1): 1-22 Streiffer, Robert. 2014. The Confinement of Animals Used in Laboratory Research. In Gruen (2014), pp. 174-192 Streiffer, Robert and Killoren, David. 2018. Animal confinement and use. Canadian Journal of Philosophy 49 (1):1-21 Terlazzo, Rosa. 2017. Must Adaptive Preferences Be Prudentially Bad for Us? Journal of the American Philosophical Association 3(4) : 412-429 Theobold, D. M., Miller, J. R., and N. T. Hobbs. 1997. Estimating the cumulative effects of development on wildlife habitat. Landscape and Urban Planning, 39: 25-36 Waldron, Jeremy. 1991. Homelessness and the Issue of Freedom. UCLA Law Review 39(1):
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Eliot Michaelson and Andrew Reisner Penultimate draft Fish Introduction Ernest Hemingway in The Old Man and the Sea describes the prolonged struggle of an ageing fisherman as he reels in a giant marlin. Eventually, he succeeds, and straps the fish to the side of his small boat. There it attracts the attention of sharks, who slowly eat away at it on the return journey. The old man futilely tries to drive the sharks away, but in the end is left, exhausted and depressed, with only a skeleton. The story has elements of a classical tragedy, presenting the fisherman's struggles as a heroic, if doomed, battle against forces-the fish, the sea, the sharks, and his own age- that will inevitably outmatch him. Although most readers of this chapter will not have relied on fishing as a necessary source of either income or food, many will have spent early mornings and passed pleasant evenings at a bucolic lake or on a boat at sea, eagerly awaiting the day's first tug on a fishing line. Others will have seen a marlin itself serving as a kitschy backdrop at a kitschy beachfront bar. And nearly all readers will have at least once eaten fish. Amongst those who exclude meat gradually from their diets for ethical reasons, fish flesh and fish byproducts are often the last to go. Fish, and fishing, hold a more benign place in our collective conscience than do meat and hunting. Land animals and birds are stalked, often with a cacophony of barking dogs, and shot, often not cleanly enough to ensure a quick or painless death. Dragged out of the forest or spilling blood into a field coat's game pockets, the death of terrestrial and avian animals naturally arouses the sympathies of many. The story of The Old Man and the Sea, retold as a bowhunting expedition with a Bambi-like doe as its quarry might excite rather less sympathy for the hunter and rather more for the deer. In this chapter we explore the question of whether there are good grounds for treating fish as a general category of animals differently from terrestrial and avian animals with respect to the degree of moral concern that should be allotted to them, whether our relative indifference to the fate of the marlin has some moral grounding. We begin our study by briefly reviewing some of the main current thinking on the moral 1 permissibility of eating non-human animals, although we do not attempt to break new ground. Next, we examine what is potentially ethically different about eating fish from eating land and avian animals with a discussion of what is known about fish psychology and intelligence. We set out three distinctive and ethically salient features of the harvesting and consumption of fish. The first is that they are to a greater degree than any other major animal-based food source, wild caught. The second is that their wild capture provides both a social and economic foundation for many communities in both the developed and developing world. And the third is that it is particularly difficult as an individual to effect changes in how many fish are caught and killed through one's own consumption choices. We argue that the first and second features raise some distinctive ethical challenges, but that neither of these considerations militate against claims that the harvesting and consumption of fish is prima facie morally impermissible. We conclude with a discussion of how the third problem is only a more challenging case of a general set of problems that arise from the signaling inefficiency of our purchasing and consumption decisions. Some General Comments on the Permissibility of Eating Animals Whether it is morally permissible to eat fish depends partially on whether-and then under what circumstances-it is morally permissible to eat non-human animals in general. Our chapter does not aim to contribute anything new to the general discussion about eating animals, but it will be helpful to say something briefly about the matter to set the stage for the specific discussion of fish. Many people have the intuition that there is something of special ethical significance about being human. This intuition might be understood in one of two ways. The first is that the mere fact that we are human has special moral significance. The second is that features possessed, perhaps uniquely, by humans give us special moral significance. The first way of understanding the intuition is an instance of speciesism, which is the view that membership in a particular species is inherently ethically significant. In recent years, serious doubts have been cast on speciesism as a basis for conferring separate moral status on human and nonhuman animals. There are many ways of arguing against speciesism.1 We shall just offer one of them here. Consider two individuals falling into distinct biological groups. Let us say that one belongs to a human 1See Cavalieri (2001) for a more detailed discussion of this view. 2 population, the genes of which dispose individuals to produce low quantities of melanin in their skin, and the other of whom belongs to a human population, the genes of which dispose individuals to produce high quantities of melanin in their skin. We can imagine that these individuals live lives that are, as nearly as possible, identical with respect to character, career choice, and dispositions concerning how to treat themselves and others. We may also assume that they hold similar positions in their communities, have similar relationships to their (same sized and aged) families, and so on. It is difficult to see what could possibly justify treating either of these two individuals differently either as moral actors or as bearers of other moral statuses in identical circumstances. By stipulation they have the same character, would act and react the same way, and play comparable roles in the lives of others. The only difference between them is their membership in separate human populations with different genetic dispositions for the production of melanin in the skin. Claiming there is an ethical difference between them on that basis is absurd. We might pejoratively call someone who discriminated on that view a 'melaninist'. Mutatis mutandis, we could retell this story about individuals who only differed with respect to biological species.2 Why it would be any less absurd to discriminate on the basis of species than it is on the basis of the melanin levels of different individual's skin? This brings us to the second way of understanding of the intuition that there is something of special ethical significance about humans, i.e. that we possess certain features that confer on us special ethical significance. Defenders and opponents of the view that non-human animals deserve (more) serious ethical consideration most plausibly are taken to disagree about which features matter for making an individual animal, human or non-human, an object of moral concern. They may also disagree about empirical judgements concerning which animals possess which features. Other chapters in this volume address3 the question of which features matter with respect to the moral status of non-human animals. We take the range of possible features to include at least: possessing intelligence, self-awareness, an inner emotional life, social connections, emotional attachment to others, the capacity to feel pain, and the ability to plan for the future. We mean to take 2This is a common theme in science <iction <ilms, one developed sympathetically towards the replicants in Blade Runner. 3Note to the editors: insert relevant cross references here. (Comstock, Fischer, McPherson) 3 no stand on which of these features might matter, but we note in passing that the more rarified a feature one isolates as morally relevant, the more work one leaves to be done in explaining why it is impermissible to treat human beings who individually lack that feature as one advocates treating non-human animals lacking that same feature.4 With respect to the empirical questions, in the next section, we offer a brief summary of what is currently known, or at least believed, about the relevant aspects of fish psychology. If there are reasons for according a different moral status to fish than there are to some other animals, then it cannot be on the basis of taxa. Rather it has to be due to some difference in what various fish are like as individual creatures. What Science Believes about Fish Psychology and Intelligence5 Kurt Cobain once assured a generation that it was okay to eat <ish, since they don't have any feelings.6 As it turns out, discerning whether or not <ish have feelings has proved rather challenging, for three main reasons: <irst, the environments in which <ish live are not ones we can easily control or even interact with, making experimental design more dif<icult than it is on land. Second, <ishes' behavior is very different from our own, making it signi<icantly more dif<icult to code that behavior and draw well-informed conclusions about what sorts of mechanisms stand behind it. Third, and compounding this second issue, <ish's neurophysiology is rather different from both our own and that of most other land animals, making it dif<icult to infer from even a combination of behavioral and neurological evidence to any <irm conclusions about <ish psychology. Thankfully, <ish scientists remain undeterred by such challenges and have in fact managed to make some real progress on the questions of whether <ish can think and feel, and what they might be able to think and feel about. Perhaps the most striking recent result is evidence that giant manta rays are capable of passing the socalled 'Mirror Self-Recognition' test, something that is generally held up as the gold-standard for 4See McMahan (1996) for a discussion of these dif<iculties and one possible solution. 5We would like to thank Alexander Szorkovszsky for his invaluable help in navigating the literature on fish psychology and intelligence. Any errors in interpretation or literature selection are, however, entirely our own. 6Nirvana, ``Something in the Way.'' 4 demonstrating self-awareness.7 In essence, when exposed to mirrors manta rays exhibit a range of behaviors ill-explained by either the simple presence of a foreign object or the presence of an image they are mistaking for another conspeci<ic. These behaviors, which ethologists tend to call 'contingency checking' and 'self-directed', are akin to those exhibited by dolphins in similar settings. It is worth noting that giant manta rays have the largest and most foliated brains of any known <ish species. So even if this evidence is pointing in the right direction, we are not in a position extrapolate that many other <ish species are likely to demonstrate signi<icant degree of self-awareness. On the other hand, these results do offer reason to reject the thought that there is anything inherent in the neurophysiology of <ish that prevents them from exhibiting a signi<icant degree of intelligence and even self-awareness. Whether <ish feel pain has received perhaps the most sustained scienti<ic attention of any question regarding the mental capacities of <ish.8 What is beyond doubt is that <ish possess 'nociceptors', or nerve <ibers responsive to noxious stimuli.9 The problem is that not all stimuli of nociceptors ought to be characterized as pain. Certain types of nerve blockers, for instance, are administered speci<ically in order to prevent nociceptor <irings from reaching the brain during surgery. This will not prevent nociceptor <iring at the local level, but it plausibly does prevent there being any pain associated with the relevant bodily damage, at least during the course of the surgery itself. Some have suggested that <ish are essentially always in a state equivalent to a human being under the in<luence of nerve blockers.10 At least three different, complementary arguments are offered to this end: <irst, it is argued that <ish lack consciousness and that, since it is not felt, unconscious pain is not pain at all.11 The thought seems to be that this sort of neural architecture is not suf<iciently complex or developed 7Cf. Ari & D'Agostino (2016). For more general discussion of the Mirror Self-Recognition test, see Gallup (1970), Platek and Levin (2004), and Prior et al. (2008). 8For recent, partisan reviews of the state of the literature, see Rose et al. (2014), Sneddon (2011), and Braithwaithe (2010). See also Allen (2013). 9The ratios of the different sorts of receptors are rather different than what is commonly found in land mammals, however. Speci<ically, A-<ibers are relatively common in teleost <ish, whereas the C-<ibers common to land mammals are found in much smaller numbers (cf. Roques et al. 2010). 10Cf. Rose (2002, 2007), Rose et al. (2014), Key (2016). 11We would note in passing that this intermediate premise is controversial within philosophy. See, for 5 enough to underwrite pain perception. Second, it is noted that the neural anatomy of <ish differs substantially from that of human beings, which are taken to be paradigm pain-feelers. Of particular note is the fact that the <ish pallium is non-laminated and only diffusely connected.12 Third, a number of speci<ic objections are levelled at the methodology of the numerous extant studies purporting to show that <ish demonstrate complex behavioral reactions to bodily harm, reactions which are best explained by appealing to a feeling of pain rather than a low-level nervous response to pure nociception. We are hardly the best quali<ied persons to cast judgment on the validity of the data collection methods and statistical analyses to be found in studies on <ish pain, nor on the particulars of how best to code <ish behavior, etc. To be clear, some of the particular methodological issues to which <ish pain-skeptics have pointed to do indeed strike us as important.13 Nonetheless, it seems to us that there is a signi<icant body of evidence suggesting that <ish are capable of exhibiting fairly complex behavioral responses to bodily harm, responses which are plausibly best explained by the posit that a central processing system is responding to information it is gathering about the state of its body. Whether a central processing system so responding should be considered a conscious system responding to pain is a dif<icult question, and one that we can hardly hope to settle here. We don't put much stock in the neurophysiological evidence mustered by <ish pain-skeptics, because it primarily relies on differences between human and <ish neurology to make its point; we take it as a fairly settled matter that consciousness, whatever it is, is multiply realizable.14 Thus, simply pointing out that <ishes' neuro-anatomy is different from our own should not in itself make us doubt that they can feel pain; after all, manta rays are strikingly different from us anatomically, and yet they seem capable of passing the Mirror Selfinstance, Palmer (1975) This argument is ineffective in the present context, however: if consciousness is required to feel pain, and if we have good evidence that <ish feel pain, then we have good reason to conclude that <ish are conscious. Granted, we would have reason to reject one of the premises if the conclusion were known to be false-but this is simply assumed rather than argued for by proponents of this sort of argument. 12Cf. Giassi et al. (2012). 13On the other hand, the demand that a clear line be drawn between re<lexive and non-re<lexive behavior-and that an operational de<inition be provided such that this line can be tested for-strikes us as unwarranted (cf. Rose et al. 2014). We are highly skeptical that any such line or de<inition can ever be provided. 14Cf. Block & Fodor (1972). 6 Recognition test. What other sorts of arguments might there be either for or against <ish consciousness? Arguments in favor of <ish consciousness have tended to appeal to certain <ish species' capacities to learn complex behaviors, to respond to their surroundings in complex ways, and to integrate information from various areas of the brain to initiate avoidance behaviors.15 Arguments against tend to note that complex behaviors can be exhibited by sleepwalkers, among others, and that <ish seem to exhibit some of these same behaviors even when their frontal cortexes are removed.16 Again, we cannot hope to settle here the issue of what sorts of things, beyond verbal, <irst-person reports of which non-human animals are for the most part incapable, constitute our best evidence for attributions of consciousness. We would note, however, that <ish demonstrate a remarkable range of complex behaviors commonly associated with a high degree of intelligence: not just timed-responses to feeding routines or the ability to quickly spatially map a location for subsequent recall, but also kin-recognition, the recognition of individual conspeci<ics and non-conspeci<ics and differentiated behavior towards each, tool-use, social reconciliation behavior, social learning, and even numeracy.17 Certain <ish species even demonstrate complex planning behaviors: cleaner wrasse, who make a living by removing parasites and dead skin from 'client' <ish can prioritize <ish in a queue based on whether these <ish are 'regulars' who are unlikely to go elsewhere or 'transients' who may lose patience and look for a competitor if left to wait.18 While none of this behavior is by any means a dispositive of consciousness, cumulatively it strikes us as lending strong support for the claim that, while certainly not realized in all species, the hardware of <ish neuro-anatomy is capable of exhibiting a high degree of the sorts of intelligent behavior standardly associated with consciousness. Thus, it lends some credence to the hypothesis that at least certain <ish are, indeed, conscious beings. Contemporary science offers us ample reason to think that <ish are capable of exhibiting a high degree of intelligence. Whether the same general body of evidence supports the claim that these <ish are also 15Cf. Huntingford et al. (2006), Braithwaithe and Boulcott (2007), and Braithwaithe (2010).] 16Cf. Rose et al. (2014) and, on the latter point, Overmier & Papini (1986). 17Cf. Brown (2015) 18Cf. Bshary & Wurth (2001). 7 conscious or that they can feel pain is a more controversial matter. But there is at least some reason to believe that the answer in both cases is "yes". The evidence at present is far from perfect, and vast neurophysiological differences do indeed obtain between humans and <ish. That might lead us to resist thinking of <ish as capable of conscious thought on the basis of these neurophysiological differences. But this resistance looks unjusti<ied. The behavioral evidence strongly suggests that at least some <ish are remarkably intelligent creatures. If such intelligence is associated with consciousness along one phylogenetic branch, we can see no principled reason to treat such displays of intelligence differently with regard to another. The evidence we have strongly supports the hypothesis that many species of <ish are intelligent, highly social creatures. That, in turn, lends limited support to the hypothesis that many species of <ish are both conscious and capable of feeling pain. So while the matter is by no means settled, it looks like there is some scienti<ic support for the claim that, whatever moral difference makers there are between <ish and human beings, they cannot simply be assumed to be: exhibiting a signi<icant degree of intelligence, sociality, consciousness, or the ability to plan. Nor can it be assumed to be exhibiting the capacity to feel pain. For with respect to each of these traits, there is evidence that at least some <ish do indeed exhibit the relevant, potentially morally-signi<icant capacity. Wild Capture The mere fact that an individual belongs to a species of fish, as opposed for example to a species of mammal, can only be intrinsically ethically significant if we accept speciesism, or more properly classism. However, there may be extrinsic features that make it all-things-considered permissible to eat fish, when it would not be all-things-considered permissible to eat mammals with relevantly similar psychological or social lives.19 One obvious difference between many commonly consumed kinds of fish and similarly commonly consumed kinds of land and avian mammals is in the method of harvest. In developed countries, all but a small fraction of land and avian animal meat is harvested through farming, rather than through hunting and trapping. A significant, though declining, portion of the fish eaten in developed countries is wildly harvested. Perhaps this difference is ethically significant. 19'Relevantly similar' means something like 'with features of the same ethical signi<icance for moral patienthood' 8 To develop this possibility, it will be helpful to offer two versions of the harvesting non-parity principle: The harvesting intrinsic non-parity principle (HINP): For any two possible methods of harvesting an individual non-human animal for food, there can be an ethically relevant difference even if the effects of the harvest itself on the animal are the same. The harvesting extrinsic non-parity principle (HENP): For any two possible methods of harvesting an individual non-human animal for food, there can only be an ethically relevant difference if the effects of the harvest on the animal are different. To make an argument for assigning differential moral status to eating fish on the basis of HINP, we would need to identify something about the farming of animals that is intrinsically more morally objectionable than would be their wild capture, assuming that the animals' welfare was not affected differently. One approach to defending HINP might be to draw a parallel with ordinary death and killing. Consider two possible histories for the same population of humans. In each history, all individuals live the same length of life and have the same quality of life with respect to wellbeing. In the first possible history, a particular individual in the population's life ends when it does in a sudden, painless, and natural death. In the other history, that same individual's life ends suddenly and painlessly, and at the same time, but due to murder. At least some people20 have the intuition that the second history is worse than the first history. There is a special harm, or perhaps welfare-affecting wrong, associated with killing. Explaining this intuition may be difficult, so let us accept it unexplained for the sake of argument. Might there be something similar at work in the putative moral difference between death and suffering caused to an animal in virtue of its being farmed and death and suffering caused to an animal in virtue of its being hunted or trapped? If there is a difference, it is of course not due to one case being an instance of killing and the other an instance of mere death. Both are instances of killing. Instead, the difference would have to come from the bringing of an animal into existence with the intent to harvest it for food and then killing it versus killing an animal that was not brought into existence for that purpose. Something about the intent (or lack thereof) behind an animal's creation in combination with its actually being killed for food would 20See Broome (2004) and and McMahan (2003). 9 need to be morally significant. We wish to set aside most of the interesting moral questions that arise here. The importance of intentions and the difference in the character of the type of action between farming and hunting or trapping deserve attention, but the right way to treat these differences depends to some degree on which normative ethical theory turns out to be correct. We are not in a position to address that issue in this chapter. However, there is one important issue that we do wish to take up. That is to what extent the fact that predator/prey relationships exist in nature makes acting as a predator, rather than a farmer, different with respect to ethical status. There is a line of thought that circulates among some of the folk that sees fishing as a way of being close to nature.21 This is in part due to the physical proximity of the fisherman to nature, for example on a boat in the ocean or sitting at the shores of a lake. The other is that it brings one closer in some sense to a pre-modern, or at least pre-agricultural, way of life. While there are important traditions of thought that view going back to the land, or to the sea, as being more in touch with nature-sometimes understood as living an earlier human lifestyle-it is unclear how this could be an ethical good for its own sake. There are many pre-modern and preagricultural practices that seem clearly wrong to pursue in circumstances in which they can be avoided, and which do not seem to gain any added moral significance from having been widespread in the past. For example, in the great majority of hunter-gatherer societies22 there was a quite significant social and political power asymmetry between men and women. This neither vindicates the history of oppression of women in later times, nor is it a reason to favor reversing the stillincomplete political and social gains of women today. In addition, whatever the status of non-human animals as moral patients (that is, as bearers of moral status), much of the animal kingdom is occupied by creatures who are neither moral agents nor otherwise in a position to make choices about what to eat on ethical grounds due to limited dietary flexibility. This puts omnivorous, agential humans in a very different moral position to that of nonhuman animals with respect to our choices about what we eat and how we harvest it. Whatever 21See Charles List's chapter in this volume. 22This seems to have been true even in notably egalitarian cultures, like the pre-western contact culture in Vanuatu. See Wrangham (2010). 10 might be said in favor of treating farming on the one hand and hunting or trapping on the other differently from a moral point of view, it is not on account of the latter's being more natural than the former.23 This brings us to HENP and the question of whether there are contingent features of hunting and trapping that might have an effect on the moral permissibility of eating wild-caught fish. The answer to this question brings us back to §1 of this paper: how does hunting or trapping fish affect their wellbeing differently from farming them? Unfortunately, it is difficult to offer accurate generalizations regarding fish welfare in farmed systems. That is because the conditions of these systems vary drastically. In some, fish are highly stressed and subject to other welfare concerns, like disease and parasites.24 But other controlled environments have been designed to minimize stressors and disease. It is yet more difficult to offer generalizations regarding the welfare effects of catching fish in the wild, in part because it is very difficult to study the stress-effects of actually catching fish in the wild. However, the effects of contemporary wild catching practices on fish populations are much more apparent: severe and ongoing depletion of fish stocks. As of 2002, the UN reported that 24% of fisheries were either overexploited or depleted.25 Even more worryingly, some now estimate that wild fish stocks will completely collapse by 2048.26 Even if this proves to be overly pessimistic, it seems safe to say that current wild capture practices can hardly be thought to constitute anything other than a disaster for fish welfare, considered at the population level. So to conclude concerning the question of wild capture, whether it makes a difference to the moral permissibility of eating fish in the actual world seems to depend more on what we say about HINP 23A more nuanced version of this thought might run as follows: "it is simply in the nature of certain animals to be eaten by other animals. If it is in the nature of some animal to be eaten by other animals, then there might be no sense in which it is wrong for that animal to be eaten; those animals are simply fulfilling their nature." While we are skeptical of the strong teleological outlook required in order to support this sort of objection, we are willing to spot such assumptions for the sake of argument. Still, we think, this objection fails. For the relevant question is not whether these creatures should be eaten by their natural predators, but rather by us, by human beings equipped with all manner of artifice, be that fishing lines or trawlers. We are unable to see how anything short of a divine creation-type story would allow one to posit that fish it in their nature to be caught and eaten by creatures like us. At the very least, some explanation of how this might be possible would be required to take this sort of view seriously. 24Cf. Conte (2004). 25United Nations Food and Agricultural Organization: General Situation of World Fish Stocks. Accessed at <www.fao.org/newsroom/common/ecg/1000505/en/stocks.pdf>. 26Worm et al. (2006). 11 rather than HENP, at least when the alternative food sources are plant-based. With respect to HINP, back to nature arguments do not appear to lend the principle much support, but it remains an open question as to whether farming might be inherently morally worse than hunting and trapping, given otherwise equal effects on its victims. Fishing Communities and Cultural Practices27 Fishing communities and farming communities differ in at least one interesting way. Many farming communities (although perhaps not ranching communities) could in principle maintain many aspects important of their lifestyle by switching what they farm from livestock to plants. On the other hand, if it proves morally impermissible to wild-harvest fish, the lifestyle of many traditional and modern communities would be lost. Perhaps the moral benefit of preserving these communities and lifestyles outweighs the harm of at least certain kinds of fishing, or perhaps the harm of harvesting certain kinds of fish. There are pitfalls in trying to defend this line of argument that must be avoided, so we shall begin by trying to avoid them. The first is committing to too strong of a moral principle. Let us call the toostrong principle the 'absolute principle of cultural preservation': The absolute principle of cultural preservation (ACP): The fact that P is a longstanding cultural practice, central to a community's way of life, makes preserving P the overriding moral consideration. It is not at all difficult to see what is wrong with ACP, which would provide overriding justification for the continuation of chattel slavery, serfdom, the systematic oppression of women, and many other deeply morally objectionable practices. To avoid the obvious problems that arise from ACP, we can try an alternative principle: The weaker principle of cultural preservation (WCP): The fact that P is a longstanding cultural practice, central to a community's way of life, makes preserving P a moral consideration to be non-minimally28 weighed against other moral considerations. 27We thank Simon Rosenqvist, who provided us with many valuable comments, in particular for his contribution to improving this section. 28The 'non-minimal' clause is to ensure that the considerations are not treated so weakly as to be always morally outweighed by other considerations. 12 WCP is clearly more plausible than ACP. All things considered, societies with chattel slavery ought to change their laws, members of cultures that oppress women ought to change their practices, and so on. However, even WCP is problematic, at least in forms that would help the case for making fishing, and the eating of fish that pays for it, be morally permissible. To see why, let us consider its consequences. If the fact that a particular practice is central to community's way of life is some non-minimally weighted moral reason to preserve that practice, then at least sometimes it must be able to outweigh, or at least balance against, another non-minimally weighted moral reason. Fishing kills a great many fish and also marine mammals (as an unintended consequence). Suppose that we assign a low moral weight to the suffering and death of each of these animals individually. Presumably over the history of the practice of fishing, eventually the amount of moral harm done is equivalent to that of killing a single human individual. Now let us suppose that there is culture with the following practice. Each year a handful of sand is thrown on the roof of every home occupied by just a single person. Let us also suppose that those homes are always occupied by a single person, with a new one moving in when the previous occupant partners off or otherwise leaves. Let us suppose that eventually, over the course of many decades, one of the roofs will collapse, killing the home's occupant. At that time, all the sand is removed from other roofs and used to fill in the collapsed house as a ceremonial grave. We might suppose that this practice exists for a reason of sorts. The community for its own safety has to move sand away from one side of the village, where the village food supply is grown, to keep it from mixing in with the soil. When the village was originally founded, it was too difficult to move the sand much beyond the village, and this practice of removal to single villagers' roofs had the benefit of not impeding cart traffic in the streets with big piles of sand. With modern technology, the village could over a period of several years safely transition to moving the sand all the way to the other side of the village. But the villagers choose not to, in part because a way of life will be lost. The threat of collapsing roofs is an important part of the process of partnering off, as it motivates single persons to marry, and it plays a critical role the regulating the real estate market. Even though this practice only kills one person every several decades and serves further cultural and economic purposes in the community, it is difficult to see the case for preserving its existence. Its moral costs are in the scheme of things not very high, but the trade-off between maintaining the 13 culture and killing someone unnecessarily seem to work against the former and in favor of the latter.29 It seems likely that someone who is attracted to the cultural practice argument will be willing to bite the bullet on cases like this one.30 It is our suspicion that increasing the number of innocents who are involuntarily harmed by the cultural practices will eventually make biting the bullet too difficult, even for those attracted to the cultural practices argument. The actual harm done by traditional fishing is often higher than might be expected. Commercial fishing, one of the bedrock traditional cultures of upper New England, is rated by the National Institute of Occupational Safety and Health as the most dangerous profession in America. Many Maine fisherman work in the most dangerous sub-industry is fishing for scallops (from 2000-2009 deaths occurred at a rate of 425 per 100,000 full time fisherman annually, or 26 total deaths during that period) and groundfish (at a rate of 600 deaths annually per 100,000 full time fisherman, or 44 total deaths, during the same period) in the Atlantic.31 It is at least plausible to assume that alternative economies could be developed with safer primary of sources of employment. Perhaps the most plausible cultural preservation principle would be one like this: The moral principle of cultural preservation (MCP): The fact that P is a longstanding cultural practice, central to a community's way of life, makes preserving P a moral good in virtue of being a cultural practice if and only if P is not morally bad independently of being a cultural practice. This principle's plausibility strikes us as difficult to explain beyond appeal to the folk's intuitions. People are quick to appeal to cultural practice as a good reason for doing something, as long as the tradition is seen as central to a particular culture and is not thought to be excessively harmful. We ourselves are not confident that the folk's intuitions are correct in this case, but that is a separate discussion.32 29Tyler Doggett helpfully noted to us that there are many cultural practices that cause unnecesary deaths, but against which there is no serious public outcry. Some of these practices, for example alpinism practiced by informed and consenting adults, may fall within the range of those activities which are unwise but permissible. In those cases where consent cannot be given, for example for dangerous activities that might be required of children in schools, it would seem that the lack of public outcry is a moral failing. 30Mark Budolfson helpfully suggested this point to us. 31See Center for Disease Control and Prevention (2010). 32See Cudd (2006) for a wide-ranging discussion of the problems of among other things assigning much moral weight to a practice because it is a cultural tradition. 14 While MCP may be correct, it is difficult to see what role it could play in an argument for the moral permissibility for the consumption of fish as a means to supporting fishing communities. In order for MCP to do work, it would already have to have been determined that fishing is not morally bad. There is some ambiguity in the 'morally bad' clause in MCP. If it is read as pro tanto bad, then it is difficult to see, affording any moral weight to the welfare of marine life (the fish being fished for or the marine mammals being harmed as a side-effect), it is difficult to see how fishing could fail to be pro tanto bad. On the other hand, if the clause is read as morally bad all things considered, then MCP does no extra work in determining the all things considered goodness or badness of fishing. This does leave open one possibility for the distinctive role that fishing plays in fishing communities to matter. That is the question of how much harm will accrue to the individuals of the community if they can no longer sell their fish. If eating fish is required for selling fish, and the failure to sell fish will result in significant harms to the fishing community, then the harms to the victims of fishing must be weighed against the harms from the cessation of fishing to the members of the fishing community.33 What the final assessment of these considerations should be is both a theoretical and an empirical question. But even if the immediate cessation of fishing, or of eating fish, would be morally wrong, it remains an open question as to whether particular communities or individuals are morally required to begin the transition process to a different lifestyle. Without the cultural preservation principles, and contingent on the feasibility of doing so, we cannot see any argument against many fishing communities being morally required to effect a transition to a different economy. Two Collective Action Problems Fishing raises a number of tricky issues pertaining to how we ought to act together-both as human beings in general and as specifically political groups-and what that means for how we ought to act individually. We shall focus here on two: first, how should fishing be regulated, given that it largely takes place in environments which are difficult to monitor and where rules are difficult, if not impossible, to enforce? Second, what should one do, as an individual, given the considerations regarding fish attested to above? As we shall see, these questions are not unrelated. Fisheries are, in a sense, the world's last great common resource. Many fisheries are, of course, 33Tyler Doggett helpfully pointed out that similar arguments may arise with respect to free-range farming: if these farms are less efficient, and that decrease in efficiency isn't made up for via increased prices, then farmers will be harmed by switching to free-range methods. That harm would thus need to be weighed against the benefit to the animals involved. 15 located within national waters, but a great many are located well beyond these boundaries. Supposing for the moment that we accept that we ought, collectively, to allow for industrial-scale fishing, how ought we to manage fishing stocks, and in particular those stocks which lie beyond the bounds of any national border? One common proposal is that we ought to harvest fish 'sustainably', where this is taken to mean something like "maintaining a yield of X tonnes of a particular species indefinitely while not grossly degrading the surrounding oceanic environment." One might attempt to achieve this goal in a number of different ways, but one common thought is that some non-governmental or supragovernmental body ought to distribute permits to catch a certain amount of fish in line with experts' projections for the particular fishery in question.34 This, in turn, raises the question of how these permits should be distributed, and how their trade should subsequently be regulated. We take this question of what this initial distribution should look like to be a very hard problem. It might initially seem that these permits should be primarily given to fisherpeople from poorer regions, since this would effectively serve as a wealth-transfer scheme to those regions. But note that fisherpeople from poorer regions may well have more incentive to cheat if they can, since greater profit is likely to disproportionately improve the lives of people in very poor areas. What's more, anti-cheating regimes (via inspections) and technologies (e.g. GPS transmitters) are expensive and may pose an undue burden on fisherpeople from poorer regions. On the other hand, distributing permits to fisherpeople from rich countries looks very much like rewarding these people for already being wealthy. All this suggests that there may be no easy answer to the question of how, regardless of what sort of agency might be set up to control fishing in international waters, permissions to fish in those waters ought to be distributed. Even if a fair distribution scheme were to be implemented, one would have to expect illegal fishing in international waters to continue well into the future. All this might make it tempting to shift the burden of regulating fishing from the body politic to the consumer: if consumers were to demand that the fish they eat be certified in some reliable manner, or if they were to refrain from eating fish at all, wouldn't that resolve this problem of regulating the world's ocean commons? Unfortunately, there is reason to worry that it might not. This brings us to our second question regarding collective action and fish: as an individual, should one expect to have any effect on fish welfare by choosing not to purchase and eat fish? Sadly, we suspect not. The system of fish production is highly complex and waste-tolerant, meaning that the signals generated by individuals' purchases (or lack thereof) are likely to get drowned out in the noise 34See, for instance, Hilbourn (2012). 16 of the overall system.35 This threatens to undermine one common motivation for not eating fish: the hope that one's individual actions will directly result, via the transmission of an economic signal, in increased fish welfare. Analogous reasoning should lead one to expect that one's signal regarding a particular certification scheme will be drowned out by the noise of the overall system of fish production. Of course, this problem is not at all unique to the question of whether it is permissible to eat fish; analogous problems arise with respect to any sort of land or avian animal we might consider eating.36 While we cannot hope to deal with this problem in full here, we shall offer a few initial thoughts on why this observation does not support the view that it is prima facie morally permissible to eat fish, or likewise to purchase fish without regard to their sustainability. Our basic strategy of response will be of the 'partners in crime' variety. That is, we think that this sort of worry can be used to generate an apparent reason not to φ in instances where one clearly ought to φ. So we reject the thought that inefficacy undermines one's reasons to φ in any general sense. That, of course, leaves unresolved the question of whether inefficacy worries undermine one's reasons not to eat fish in particular. So how does this sort of inefficacy objection threaten to over-generate? Consider a situation in which you live in a slave-holding society. You do not yourself own slaves, yet you face the following choice: either you can speak out in opposition of slavery and face moderately unpleasant social repercussions, or you can stay quiet and suffer no such repercussions. Either way, you should expect that your actions will have no effect on the welfare of the enslaved population around you. We can further stipulate that you are right in this expectation; your actions either way will have absolutely no effect on any slave's wellbeing. Ought you speak out against slavery and suffer the moderately unpleasant social repercussions? We submit that the answer is very clearly "yes." This shows that the mere fact that an action requires a small personal sacrifice but is likely to be causally inefficacious is not a clear object to that action's rightness. We further contend that the minor harms one might suffer by not eating fish-some lack of possible gustatory pleasure-are less significant than the moderate social harms of our imagined scenario.37 35See Budolfson (forthcoming) for the terrestrial analog of this argument. 36See the chapters by Nefsky, Fischer, and McPherson. 37We assume for the sake of argument that one can obtain all the necessary nutrients for a healthy life 17 The slavery example makes it easy to see that problems of collective action occur in many ethical contexts, from voting to taking actions to protect the environment. These collective action problems relate closely to cooperative behavior problems in ethics and to the problem of redundant causation in ethical action. At present, how to explain why problems like these, including the slavery problem, arise is controversial. It is much less controversial, however, to hold that one in fact has obligations even in cases where one's individual actions are inefficacious in part because others do not take similar actions. Thus, we tentatively conclude that basic inefficacy concerns do not yet serve to undermine arguments to the effect that we should not eat fish. And, to whatever extent one is unconvinced by those arguments, we do not think that these arguments undermine the thought that, in eating fish, one should attend to the sustainability and average environmental impact of the sort of fish one is eating. In order for these sorts of arguments to constitute a clear justification for the permissibility of eating fish, more would need to be done to demonstrate that the present case is unlike the case of the ineffective abolitionist we have just considered, as well as being different to many other ethical issues that run into closely related efficacy challenges besides.38 Conclusion Empirical ignorance and lack of empathy have often led to poor ethical decision making. In 2012, a weak year for international fisheries, the total fish catch for the world was 90 million tonnes. It is difficult to estimate how many total fish that includes, but even if we cautiously estimated the average fish size at 200lbs, this would mean that 900 million individuals were caught and killed. This does not include all the fish and other sea organisms killed collaterally in the fishing process. If humans are collectively making a moral mistake in eating many popular kinds of fish, then we are by eating sea vegetables rather than fish. The prime suspect for concern is Omega 3 fatty acids, which accumulate in fish flesh via their consumption of seaweeds containing those fatty acids, seaweeds from which these fatty acids can, in fact, be directly extracted. If this assumption proves to be wrong-that is, if there prove to be certain nutrients that can only be obtained by eating fish flesh- that might change the calculation here slightly, depending on the particular ill-effects of failing to consume these nutrients. 38Of course, we do not mean to rule out the possibility that inefficacy can serve to undermine one's reasons to φ in the right circumstances. For instance, the fact that a certain charity is ineffective can be an excellent reason for me to give to a different charity instead. What's more, we take it that there are likely to be cases where the fact that φ-ing is likely to be ineffective matters quite a bit to whether one ought to φ: for instance, cases where φ-ing also brings with it a significant risk of self-harm. We cannot see how the question of whether to eat fish could be seriously taken (by those in our likely audience's circumstances) to constitute a case like this, however. 18 making a massive moral mistake. This raises the question of how likely we are to be making a massive collective moral mistake. New and innovative research into fish intelligence and psychology has started to suggest that many of our naïve assumptions regarding the sophistication of many species of fish and about their capacity to feel pain and to suffer are simply false. This is in keeping with the general trend of learning through study that many species of animals possess intelligence and psychological capacities that were often not readily apparent to us on account of their inability to report their own interior lives. At the same time, the inscrutability of fish to us does little to generate empathy for them. It is easier to discount the suffering of creatures who cannot make the nature and intensity of their suffering known to us in a way that evokes an emotional response. For both this reason and because we have likely been underestimating the degree to which they possess morally salient psychological features, it now seems likely that we collectively have been acting wrongly with respect to eating fish on account of the harm caused by harvesting them. At the same time, distinctive features of the harvesting of fish-that they are wild caught and that they support distinctive ways of life-appear unlikely to weigh heavily enough in the moral calculus to tip the moral scales towards the permissibility of our collectively harvesting and eating fish. Best we can tell then, we are likely to be making a massive moral mistake when it comes to the way that we, collectively, interact with fish. Fish would seem to be worthy of moral consideration such that we should think twice about killing them for food, particularly when there are other options available to us. Even if the evidence in favor of fishes' moral standing was less compelling, we still think that a principle of caution would favor a massive shift in our attitudes towards fish. Suppose that I am only 50% confident that this is a priceless Ming vase as opposed to a fake: I still have excellent reason to be extremely careful with the vase. Why? One natural thought is that the cost of being wrong here would be extremely high. If we are going to kill nearly a billion individuals each year in order to feed ourselves, we should hope to be extremely confident that these individuals lack any claim on us not to kill and eat them. But, as we have seen, we lack anything like this sort of confidence when it comes to the case of fish. 19 References Allen, C., 2013. Fish cognition and consciousness. Journal of Agricultural and Environmental Ethics 26: 25-39. Ari, C. and D.P. D'Agostino, 2016. Contingency checking and self-directed behaviors in giant manta rays: Do elasmobranchs have self-awareness? Journal of Ethology 34: 167-174. Block, N. and J. Fodor, 1972. What psychological states are not. Philosophical Review 81: 159-181. Braithwaite, V. and P. Boulcott, 2007. Pain perception, fear and aversion in <ish. Diseases of Aquatic Organisms 75: 131–138. Braithwaite, V., 2010 Do Fish Feel Pain? Oxford University Press, Oxford. Broome, J. 2004. Weighing Lives. Oxford University Press: Oxford. Brown, C. 2015. Fish intelligence, science, and ethics. Animal Cognition 18: 1–17. Bshary R. and M. Wurth, 2001. Cleaner <ish Labroides dimidiatus manipulate client reef <ish by providing tactile stimulation. Proceedings of the Royal Society of London B 268: 1495–150. Budolfson, M. ms. The Inef<icacy Objection to Consequentialism and the Problem with the Expected Consequences Response. Forthcoming in Philosophical Studies. Cavalieri, P., 2001. The Animal Question: Why non-Human Animals Deserve Human Rights. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (2010). Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report. July 16, 2010 / 59(27); 842-845 Conte, F.S., 2004. Stress and the welfare of cultured <ish. Applied Animal Behaviour Science. 86: 205-223. Csilla, A. and D. D'Agostino, 2016. Contingency checking and self-directed behaviors in giant manta rays: Do elasmobranchs have self-awareness? Journal of Ethology 34: 167–174. Cudd, A., 2006. Analysing Oppression. Oxford University Press, New York. 20 Giassi, A.C.C., W. Ellis, and L .Maler, 2012. Organization of the gymnotiform <ish pallium in relation to learning and memory: III. Intrinsic connections. Journal of Comparative Neurology 520: 3369-3394. Gallup G.G., 1970. Chimpanzees: self-recognition. Science 167: 86–87. Hilbourn, R. 2012. OverLishing: What Everyone Needs to Know. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Huntingford, F.A., C. Adams, V.A. Braithwaite, S. Kadri, T. G. Pottingers, P. Sandoe, and J.F. Turnbull, 2006. Current issues in <ish welfare. Journal of Fish Biology 68: 332–372. Key, B. 2016. Why <ish do not feel pain. Animal Sentience 3. McMahan, J. 1996. Cognitive Disability, Misfortunate, and Justice. Philosophy and Public Affairs 25:3-35. McMahan, J. 2003. The Ethics of Killing: Problems at the Margins of Life. Oxford University Press: Oxford. Overmier, J.B. and M.R. Papini, 1986. Factors modulating the effects of teleost telencephalon ablation on retention, relearning and extinction of instrumental avoidance behavior. Behavioral Neuroscience 100: 190–199. Palmer, D., 1970. Unfelt pains. American Philosophical Quarterly 12: 289–298. Platek, S.M. and S.L. Levin, 2004. Monkeys, mirrors, mark tests, and minds. Trends in Ecology & Evolution 19:406–407. Prior, H., A. Schwarz, and O. Güntürkün O, 2008, Mirror-induced behavior in the magpie (Pica pica): evidence of self-recognition. PLoS Biology 6: e202. doi:10.1371/journal.pbio.0060202. Roques, J.A.C., W. Abbink, F. Geurds, H. Vis, and G. Flik, 2010. Tail<in clipping, a painful procedure: studies on Nile tilapia and common carp. Physiology & Behavior 101: 533–540. Rose, J.D., 2002. The neurobehavioral nature of <ishes and the question of awareness and pain. Reviews in Fisheries Science 10: 1–38. Rose, J.D., 2007. Anthropomorphism and 'mental welfare' of <ishes. Diseases of Aquatic Organisms 75: 139– 154. Rose, J.D., R. Arlinghaus, S.J. Cooke, B.K. Diggles, W. Sawynok, E.D. Stevens, and C.D.L. Wynne, 2014. Can 21 <ish really feel pain? Fish & Fisheries 15: 97-133. Sneddon, L.U., 2011. Pain perception in <ish: Evidence and implications for the use of <ish. Journal of Consciousness Studies 18: 209–229. Worm, B., E.B. Barbier, N. Beaumont, J.E. Duffy, C. Folke, B.S. Halpern, J.B.C. Jackson, H.K. Lotze, F. Micheli, S.R. Palumbi, E. Sala, K.A. Selkoe, J.J. Stachowicz, and R. Watson., 2006. Impacts of biodiversity loss on ecosystem services. Science 314: 787-790. Wrangham, R. 2010. Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human. Pro<ile Books: USA.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Noname manuscript No. (will be inserted by the editor) Gauge Invariance for Classical Massless Particles with Spin Jacob A. Barandes Received: date / Accepted: date Abstract Wigner's quantum-mechanical classification of particle-types in terms of irreducible representations of the Poincaré group has a classical analogue, which we extend in this paper. We study the compactness properties of the resulting phase spaces at fixed energy, and show that in order for a classical massless particle to be physically sensible, its phase space must feature a classical-particle counterpart of electromagnetic gauge invariance. By examining the connection between massless and massive particles in the massless limit, we also derive a classical-particle version of the Higgs mechanism. Keywords Gauge theory * Particle physics * Spin * Classical field theory * Representation theory * Higgs mechanism 1 Introduction The ingredients of classical physics are usually simpler to visualize and understand than those of quantum theory. It is therefore worthwhile to investigate which seemingly quantum phenomena turn out to have classical realizations, if only to provide the kind of intuition that can lead to discoveries. As an important example, intrinsic spin is often regarded as fundamentally quantum in nature, but there exists a fully classical description of relativistic point particles with arbitrary masses and fixed spin. With the eventual goal of describing and extending this framework,1 we begin in Section 2 by suitably generalizing the usual Lagrangian formulation of classical physics to a more expressly Lorentz-covariant form. In Section 3, we review the classification of particle-types in terms of transitive group actions of the Poincaré group, expanding on earlier work [1,8,5] and paralleling Wigner's classification [11] of J.A. Barandes (ORCID: 0000-0002-3740-4418) Jefferson Physical Laboratory, Harvard University, 17 Oxford Street, Cambridge, MA 02138 E-mail: [email protected] 1 For a more comprehensive treatment of the results in this paper, see [2]. 2 Jacob A. Barandes quantum particle-types in terms of irreducible Hilbert-space representations of the Poincaré group. We will be most interested in the massless case, for which we present new results that include the emergence of a classical-particle form of electromagnetic gauge invariance. In Section 4, we revisit this appearance of gauge invariance from the perspective of the massive case in the massless limit, along the way deriving a classical-particle version of the Higgs mechanism, another novel result. 2 The Manifestly Covariant Lagrangian Formulation Consider a classical system with time parameter t, degrees of freedom qα, Lagrangian L, and action functional S[q] ≡ ∫ dtL(q, q, t), (1) where dots here denote derivatives with respect to the time t. Before we apply this framework to classical relativistic point particles, we will find it useful to recast these ingredients in a form that is more manifestly compatible with relativistic invariance. To do so, we begin by replacing t with an arbitrary smooth, monotonic parameter λ. Letting dots now denote derivatives with respect to λ, we can rewrite the action functional in the reparametrization-invariant form2 S[q, t] ≡ ∫ dλL (q, q, t, ṫ), (2) where L (q, q, t, ṫ) ≡ ṫ L(q, q/ṫ, t). (3) We introduce a raised/lowered-index notation according to qt ≡ c t, qt ≡ −c t, qα ≡ qα, pt ≡ H/c, pt ≡ −H/c, pα ≡ pα. (4) where pα are the system's usual canonical momenta, H is the system's usual Hamiltonian derived from the original Lagrangian L in (1), and c is a constant with units of energy divided by momentum. The quantities pt and pα are then expressible in terms of the function (3) as pt = ∂L ∂qt , pα = ∂L ∂qα , (5) 2 For an early example of this technique, see [4]. For a more modern, pedagogical treatment, see [3]. Gauge Invariance for Classical Massless Particles with Spin 3 and one can show that the Euler-Lagrange equations take the symmetriclooking form ṗt = ∂L ∂qt , ṗα = ∂L ∂qα . (6) Moreover, the action functional (2) now takes a form that resembles a Lorentzcovariant dot product involving a square matrix η ≡ diag(−1, 1, . . . ) that naturally generalizes the Minkowski metric tensor from special relativity, S[q] = ∫ dλ ( ptq t + ∑ α pαq α ) = ∫ dλ ( pt pα ) η ( qt qα ) , (7) despite the fact that the degrees of freedom qα are not assumed at this point to have anything to do with physical space. The action functional is then invariant under transformations( qt qα ) 7→ Λ ( qt qα ) , ( pt pα ) 7→ Λ ( pt pα ) (8) for square matrices Λ satisfying the condition ΛTηΛ = η. Thus, this reparametrization-invariant Lagrangian formulation motivates the introduction of phase-space variables qt, qα, pt, pα that transform covariantly under a generalized notion of Lorentz transformations. We therefore refer to this framework as the manifestly covariant Lagrangian formulation of our classical system's dynamics. 3 Transitive Group Actions of the Poincaré Group Wigner showed in [11] that classifying the different Hilbert spaces that provide irreducible representations of the Poincaré group yields a systematic categorization of quantum-mechanical particle-types into massive, massless, and tachyonic cases.3 As shown in various treatments, such as [1,8,5], there exists a classical analogue of this construction, one version of which we review here. Toward the end of this section and in the next section, we will present fundamental new results concerning previously unexamined features of the massless case. 3.1 Kinematics We start by laying out a formulation of the kinematics of a system that we will eventually identify as a classical relativistic particle. Given a classical system described by a manifestly covariant Lagrangian formulation, we say that its phase space provides a transitive or "irreducible" group action of the Poincaré group if we can reach every state (q, p) in the system's phase space by starting from an arbitrary choice of reference state (q0, p0) and acting with an appropriate Poincaré transformation (a, Λ) ∈ R1,3o 3 See [10] for a pedagogical review. 4 Jacob A. Barandes O(1, 3), where aμ is a four-vector that parametrizes translations in spacetime and Λμν is a Lorentz-transformation matrix. The Poincaré group singles out systems whose phase spaces consist of spacetime coordinates Xμ ≡ (c T,X)μ ≡ (c T,X, Y, Z)μ (9) and corresponding canonical four-momentum components pμ ≡ ∂L ∂Ẋμ ≡ (E/c,p)μ, (10) where we identify H ≡ E as the system's energy. We will see that such a system formalizes the notion of a classical relativistic particle. To be as general as possible, we allow the system to have an intrinsic spin represented by an antisymmetric spin tensor, Sμν = −Sνμ, (11) in terms of which we can define a proper three-vector S and a three-dimensional pseudovector S according to Sμν ≡  0 Sx Sy Sz −Sx 0 Sz −Sy −Sy −Sz 0 Sx −Sz Sy −Sx 0  μν . (12) Hence, the system's phase space consists of states that we can denote by (X, p, S) and that, by definition, behave under Poincaré transformations (a, Λ) according to (X, p, S) 7→ (ΛX + a, Λp, ΛSΛT). (13) Taking our reference state to be (0, p0, S0) (14) for convenient choices of pμ0 and S μν 0 that will be made on a case-by-case basis later, we can therefore write each state of our system as (X, p, S) ≡ (a, Λp0, ΛS0ΛT), (15) so aμ and Λμν effectively become the system's fundamental phase-space variables. To keep our notation simple, we will refer to aμ as Xμ in our work ahead, keeping in mind that these variables are independent of the Lorentz-transformation matrix Λμν . We will therefore express the functional dependence of the system's manifestly covariant action functional as S[X,Λ]. It is natural to introduce several derived tensors from the system's fundamental variablesXμ, pμ, Sμν . The system's orbital angular-momentum tensor is defined by Lμν ≡ Xμpν −Xνpμ = −Lνμ, (16) Gauge Invariance for Classical Massless Particles with Spin 5 and Lμν together with Sμν make up the system's total angular-momentum tensor: Jμν ≡ Lμν + Sμν = −Jνμ. (17) Defining the four-dimensional Levi-Civita symbol by εμνρσ ≡  +1 for μνρσ an even permutation of txyz, −1 for μνρσ an odd permutation of txyz, 0 otherwise = −εμνρσ, (18) the system's Pauli-Lubanski pseudovector is Wμ ≡ −1 2 εμνρσpνSρσ = (p * S, (E/c)S− p× S)μ. (19) The following quantities are then invariant under proper, orthochronous Poincaré transformations, and therefore represent fixed features (or Casimir invariants) of the system's phase space: −m2c2 ≡ pμpμ, (20) w2 ≡WμWμ, (21) s2 ≡ 1 2 SμνS μν = S2 − S2, (22) s2 ≡ 1 8 εμνρσS μνSρσ = S * S. (23) In the analogous quantum case, the third of these invariant quantities, the spin-squared scalar s2, would be quantized in increments of ~ (or, more precisely, ~2). In our classical context, we are essentially working in the limit of large quantum numbers, in which the correspondence principle holds and these quantities are free to take on fixed values from a continuous set of real numbers. Note, in particular, that the invariance of s2 is entirely separate from issues of quantization, just as the invariance of m2 does not require quantization. 3.2 Dynamics We now turn to the system's dynamics. In the absence of intrinsic spin, Sμν = 0, the system's manifestly covariant action functional is, from (7), given by Sno spin[X,Λ] = ∫ dλ pμẊ μ = ∫ dλ (Λp0)μẊ μ. (24) We will eventually need to establish a definite relationship between the system's four-momentum pμ and its four-velocity Ẋμ ≡ dXμ/dλ. 6 Jacob A. Barandes First, however, we will extend the action functional (24) to include intrinsic spin. We begin by introducing the standard Lorentz generators: [σμν ] α β = −iδαμηνβ + iημβδαν . (25) Using the composition property of Lorentz transformations applied to the case of infinitesimal shifts λ 7→ λ+ dλ in the parameter λ, Λ(λ+ dλ) = Λ(dλ)Λ(λ) = (1− (i/2)dθμν(λ)σμν)Λ(λ), (26) where dθμν is an antisymmetric tensor of infinitesimal Lorentz boosts and angular displacements, we have Λ(λ) ≡ Λ(λ+ dλ)− Λ(λ) dλ = − i 2 θμν(λ)σμνΛ(λ). (27) Invoking the following trace identity satisfied by antisymmetric tensors Aμν = −Aνμ, 1 2 Tr[σμνA] = iAμν , (28) we can express the rates of change θμν(λ) according to θμν(λ) = i 2 Tr[σμνΛ(λ)Λ−1(λ)]. (29) By an integration by parts, we can then recast the action functional (24) (up to an irrelevant boundary term) as Sno spin[X,Λ] = ∫ dλ 1 2 Lμν θ μν . (30) With the alternative form (30) of the action functional in hand, we can straightforwardly introduce intrinsic spin into the system's dynamics by making the replacement Lμν 7→ Jμν ≡ Lμν + Sμν . Converting the term involving Lμν back into the form (24), we thereby obtain the new action functional S[X,Λ] = ∫ dλL = ∫ dλ ( pμẊ μ + 1 2 Tr[SΛΛ−1] ) , (31) which now properly accounts for intrinsic spin. The equations of motion derived from this action functional are ṗμ = 0, (32) Jμν = 0, (33) and respectively express conservation of four-momentum and conservation of total angular momentum, in keeping with Noether's theorem and the symmetries Gauge Invariance for Classical Massless Particles with Spin 7 of the dynamics under Poincaré transformations. It follows that the PauliLubanski pseudovector (19) is conserved, Ẇμ = 0, and that the scalar quantities −m2c2 and w2 defined in (20)–(21) are guaranteed to be constant, as required. As shown in [7], constancy of the spin-squared scalar s2 defined in (22) requires the imposition of an important Poincaré-invariant condition on the system's phase space. To see why, we make use of the equation of motion (33) to compute the rate of change of s2: d dλ ( 1 2 SμνS μν ) = Sμν Ṡ μν = 2ẊνpμSμν = 0. Keep in mind that without a definite relationship between the four-momentum pμ and the four-velocity Ẋμ, this condition is nontrivial. Because it establishes a constraint on all solution trajectories in the particle's phase space, we conclude that the following Lorentz-invariant condition must hold:4 pμS μν = 0. (34) Combined with the system's equations of motion (32)–(33), this condition yields a pair of basic relationships between the system's four-momentum pμ and its otherwise-unfixed four-velocity Ẋμ: p * Ẋ = ±mc2 √ −Ẋ2/c2, (35) m √ −Ẋ2/c2 pμ = ∓m2Ẋμ. (36) The equations (32)–(36) complete our specification of the system's dynamics. 3.3 Classification of the Transitive Group Actions Specializing to the orthochronous Poincaré group, classifying the different systems whose phase spaces give transitive group actions is a straightforward exercise that parallels Wigner's approach in [11]. As derived in detail in [2], one finds that each such system can describe a massive particle m2 > 0 or a massless particle m2 = 0 with either positive energy E = ptc > 0 or negative energy E = ptc < 0, or a tachyon m2 < 0, or the vacuum pμ = 0. Furthermore, the relations (35)–(36) imply that for each of these cases, the four-momentum is parallel to the four-velocity, pμ ∝ Ẋμ. It then follows immediately from the equations of motion (32) and (33) that Lμν and Sμν are separately conserved. For a massive particle, we can take the reference state (14) to describe the particle at rest, with reference four-momentum pμ0 = (mc,0) μ. (37) 4 This condition is a classical-particle analogue of the Lorenz equation ∂μAμ = 0 that appears both in the Proca theory of a massive spin-one bosonic field and as the Lorenzgauge condition in electromagnetism. As in those field theories, the condition (34) serves to eliminate unphysical spin states. 8 Jacob A. Barandes The condition (34) then eliminates unphysical spin degrees of freedom and implies that the particle's spin tensor (12) reduces to the three-dimensional spin pseudovector S, whose possible orientations fill out a compact, fixedenergy region of the particle's phase space. On the other hand, for massless particles and tachyons, the little group of Poincaré transformations that preserve the particle's reference four-momentum pμ0 dictates that the particle's phase space at any fixed energy is seemingly noncompact, leading to infinite entropies and other thermodynamic pathologies, besides problems that arise in the corresponding quantum field theories.5 For a tachyon, the only way to eliminate this noncompactness is to require that the spin tensor vanishes, Sμν = 0, meaning that tachyons are naturally spinless. For a massless particle, by contrast, the story is more interesting. We can take the massless particle's reference four-momentum to be pμ0 = (E/c, 0, 0, E/c) μ, (38) and the condition (34), pμS μν = 0, then implies the corresponding reference spin tensor Sμν0 =  0 S0,y −S0,x 0 −S0,y 0 S0,z −S0,y S0,x −S0,z 0 S0,x 0 S0,y −S0,x 0  μν . (39) The most general little-group transformation preserving the reference fourmomentum (38) consists of a Lorentz-transformation matrix Λ of the form6 Λ(θ, α, β) = R(θ)L(α, β), (40) where R(θ) ≡  1 0 0 0 0 cos θ sin θ 0 0 − sin θ cos θ 0 0 0 0 1  (41) is a pure rotation by an angle θ around the z axis and where L(α, β) ≡  1 + ζ α β −ζ α 1 0 −α β 0 1 −β ζ α β 1− ζ  (42) is a complicated combination of Lorentz boosts and rotations. One can show that R(θ1)R(θ2) = R(θ1 + θ2), (43) L(α1, β1)L(α2, β2) = L(α1 + α2, β1 + β2), (44) 5 See, for example, , but also [6] for a more optimistic take. 6 For a derivation, see, for example, [2,10]. Gauge Invariance for Classical Massless Particles with Spin 9 so rotations R(θ) around the z axis and the Lorentz transformations L(α, β) respectively form a pair of commutative subgroups of the particle's little group. Noting that R(θ)L(α, β)R−1(θ) = L(α cos θ + β sin θ,−α sin θ + β cos θ), (45) we identify the little group as ISO(2), which is the noncompact group of rotations and translations in the two-dimensional Euclidean plane. These little-group transformation act nontrivially on the particle's reference spin tensor (39): L(α, β)S0L T(α, β) = S0 +  0 −βS0,z αS0,z 0 βS0,z 0 0 βS0,z αS0,z 0 0 −αS0,z 0 −βS0,z αS0,z 0  . (46) Hence, the only way to ensure that the massless particle has a compact phase space at fixed reference energy while still allowing for nonzero spin is to impose the following equivalence relation on the particle's phase space: (X, p, S) ∼= (X, p, S′). (47) This equivalence relation is a new result. It is a classical-particle manifestation of the gauge invariance that arises for the gauge potentialAμ in electromagnetism, and it cuts the particle's phase space at fixed energy down to a compact extent. The distinct physical states of the massless particle are then characterized by a spacetime position Xμ, a four-momentum pμ, and a helicity σ ≡ (p/|p|) *S.7 4 The Massless Limit We can better understand the origin of the novel equivalence relation (47) by starting with the massive case m > 0 and then taking the massless limit m→ 0. Our original reference state (37) degenerates for m→ 0, so we instead take the massive particle's reference four-momentum to be pμ ≡ (pt, 0, 0, pz)μ = (√ (pz)2 +m2c2, 0, 0, pz )μ . (48) This choice has the correct m→ 0 limit (38): lim m→0 pμ = (E0/c, 0, 0, E0/c) μ, E0 ≡ pzc. (49) 7 Note that if we permit parity transformations, which map σ 7→ −σ, then we must require that the equivalence relation (47) hold only for states that share the same helicity σ. 10 Jacob A. Barandes Moreover, (48) is related to our original choice (37) of reference four-momentum for the massive particle by a simple Lorentz boost Λ along the z direction, pμ = Λμνp ν 0 , (50) and the new reference value Sμν of the massive particle's spin tensor is related to its original reference value Sμν0 according to Sμν ≡ (ΛS0ΛT)μν =  0 pz mc S0,y − pz mc S0,x 0 − p z mc S0,y 0 S0,z − pt mc S0,y pz mc S0,x −S0,z 0 pt mc S0,x 0 pt mc S0,y − pt mc S0,x 0  μν . (51) For m → 0, we have pt, pz → E0/c, so the components of Sμν involving pt/mc or pz/mc diverge. Furthermore, there is a discrete mismatch in the particle's spin-squared scalar (22) between the massive case and the massless case: s2 = S20,x + S 2 0,y + S 2 0,z (massive) 6= S20,z (massless). (52) These discrepancies are hints that the massive case includes spin degrees of freedom that need to be removed before taking the massless limit. Our approach for removing these ill-behaved spin degrees of freedom is motivated by a corresponding procedure in quantum field theory that was originally developed by Stueckelberg in [9]. We start with the redefinition( Sx Sy ) 7→ mc pt ( Sx + p tφx Sy + p tφy ) = mc pt ( Sx Sy ) +mc ( φx φy ) , (53) where φx(λ) and φy(λ) are arbitrary new functions on the particle's worldline. The particle's spin tensor (51) then has the decomposition Sμν =  0 pz pt S0,y − pz pt S0,x 0 − p z pt S0,y 0 S0,z −S0,y pz pt S0,x −S0,z 0 S0,x 0 S0,y −S0,x 0  μν +  0 pzφy −pzφx 0 −pzφy 0 0 −ptφy pzφx 0 0 p tφx 0 ptφy −ptφx 0  μν , (54) Gauge Invariance for Classical Massless Particles with Spin 11 and the spin-squared scalar (22) becomes s2 = ( 1− ( pz pt )2)( (S0,x + p tφx) 2 + (S0,y + p tφy) 2 ) + S20,z. (55) The particle's spin tensor (54) is now invariant under the simultaneous transformations( Sx Sy ) 7→ ( Sx Sy ) − pt ( fx fy ) , (56)( φx φy ) 7→ ( φx φy ) + ( fx fy ) , (57) where fx(λ), fy(λ) are arbitrary functions on the particle's worldline. Our massive particle's original phase space, with states labeled as (X, p, S), is therefore equivalent to a formally enlarged phase space consisting of states (X, p, S, φ) under the equivalence relation (X, p, S, φ) ∼= (X, p, S− ptf, φ+f), suitably generalized from the reference state (X, p, S, φ) to general states (X, p, S, φ) of the system. Indeed, one can check that the specific choice (fx, fy) ≡ −(φx, φy) yields (X, p, S + ptφ, 0), which gives back the state (X, p, S) after undoing the redefinition (53) of Sμν . We can now safely take the massless limit of the system's redefined spin tensor (54): lim m→0 Sμν =  0 S0,y −S0,x 0 −S0,y 0 S0,z −S0,y S0,x −S0,z 0 S0,x 0 S0,y −S0,x 0  μν + E c  0 φy −φx 0 −φy 0 0 −φy φx 0 0 φx 0 φy −φx 0  μν , (58) and lim m→0 s2 = S20,z. (59) The degrees of freedom describing spin components perpendicular to the particle's reference three-momentum p no longer contribute to the particle's spin-squared scalar s2. If we remove these ancillary degrees of freedom by setting φx, φy equal to zero, then the particle's spin tensor (58) reduces correctly to the reference spin tensor (39) for a massless particle, and our equivalence relation (56) reduces to the gauge invariance (47). We have therefore completed our recovery of the massless case from the m→ 0 limit of a massive particle. Furthermore, if we run these arguments in reverse, then we see that we can transform a massless particle with nonzero spin into a massive particle by introducing additional spin degrees of freedom, a classical counterpart of the celebrated Higgs mechanism. 12 Jacob A. Barandes Acknowledgments J. A. B. has benefited from personal communications with Howard Georgi, Andrew Strominger, David Griffiths, David Kagan, David Morin, Logan McCarty, Monica Pate, and Alex Lupsasca. References 1. Balachandran, A.P., Marmo, G., Skagerstam, B.S., Stern, A.: Gauge Symmetries and Fibre Bundles Applications to Particle Dynamics, 1st edn. SpringerVerlag Berlin Heidelberg (1983). DOI 10.1007/3-540-12724-0. URL https://www.springer.com/gp/book/9783540127246 2. Barandes, J.A.: Manifestly covariant lagrangians, classical particles with spin, and the origins of gauge invariance (2019). URL https://arxiv.org/abs/1911.08892 3. Deriglazov, A., Rizzuti, B.: Reparametrization-invariant formulation of classical mechanics and the schrödinger equation. American Journal of Physics 79(8), 882–885 (2011). DOI 10.1119/1.3593270. URL https://aapt.scitation.org/doi/10.1119/1.3593270 4. Dirac, P.A.M.: Relativity quantum mechanics with an application to compton scattering. Proceedings of the Royal Society A 111(758), 405–423 (1926). DOI 10.1098/rspa.1926.0074. URL https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/abs/10.1098/rspa.1926.0074 5. Rivas, M.: Kinematical Theory of Spinning Particles. Springer (2002) 6. Schuster, P., Toro, N.: On the theory of continuous-spin particles: wavefunctions and soft-factor scattering amplitudes. Journal of High Energy Physics 2013(104) (2013). DOI 10.1007/JHEP09(2013)104. URL https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/JHEP09(2013)104 7. Skagerstam, B.S., Stern, A.: Lagrangian descriptions of classical charged particles with spin. Physica Scripta 24, 493–497 (1981). DOI 10.1088/0031-8949/24/3/002. URL https://iopscience.iop.org/article/10.1088/0031-8949/24/3/002 8. Souriau, J.M.: Structure of Dynamical Systems, 1st edn. Birkhäuser (1997) 9. Stueckelberg, E.C.G.: Die wechselwirkungskräfte in der elektrodynamik und in der feldtheorie der kernkraäfte. Helvetica Physica Acta 11(3), 225–244, 299–328 (1938). DOI 10.5169/seals-110852. URL https://www.e-periodica.ch/digbib/view?pid=hpa001:1938:11::636#227 10. Weinberg, S.: The Quantum Theory of Fields, vol. 1, 1st edn. Cambridge University Press (1996) 11. Wigner, E.P.: On unitary representations of the inhomogeneous lorentz group. Annals of Mathematics 40(1), 149–204 (1939). DOI 10.2307/1968551. URL https://www.jstor.org/stable/
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Imagination and Action Neil Van Leeuwen [forthcoming in The Routledge Handbook of Philosophy of Imagination, ed. Amy Kind] Abstract: This entry elucidates causal and constitutive roles that various forms of imagining play in human action. Imagination influences more kinds of action than just pretend play. I distinguish different senses of the terms "imagining" and "imagination": imagistic imagining, propositional imagining, and constructive imagining. Each variety of imagining makes its own characteristic contributions to action. Imagistic imagining can structure bodily movement. Propositional imagining interacts with desires to motivate pretend play and mimetic expressive action. And constructive imagination generates representations of possibilities and actions on the basis of which we choose what to do. Introduction: Why Imagination Matters Philosophy and commonsense both distinguish actions from mere happenings. Having an apple fall on your head is a mere happening. Jumping over a crack in the sidewalk is an action. We also distinguish actions-properly so--‐called-from mere behaviors, which are not mere happenings but also don't rise to the level of actions. Reflexively scrunching your face when you see a disgusting picture involves emotion and information processing, so it is is more than a mere happening. But it unfolds automatically and often without awareness, making it less than action. Actions form a proper subset of behaviors, which form a proper subset of happenings. Philosophy of action, as one would expect, seeks to answer at least two questions. What constitutes action? What causes action? To date, the most prevalent theory of action-both its constitution and its etiology-is belief--‐desire explanation, which emerges from works of David Hume and Donald Davidson; it is also the basic framework for decision theory. Beliefs and desires, on this theory, cause and rationalize actions that can be expected to satisfy the desires, if the beliefs are true. Example. Belief: pushing COKE releases a soda from the machine. Desire: I drink soda. Caused action: pushing COKE. Thus are actions caused. Furthermore, many think 2 this is a constitutive theory of action as well. Actions are those events caused in this fashion. (Reflexively scrunching your face seems not to have a belief--‐desire explanation; nor does it seem to deserve the label "action;" so the belief--‐desire theory seems to classify it correctly. Conversely, pushing COKE is an action.) The belief--‐desire theory looms so large that one is tempted to ignore or deny the possibility that other mental states are central to the etiology or constitution of action. Much literature scarcely mentions other mental states. And some papers even argue against positing other mental states as contributors to action. Neil Sinhababu (2013), for example, argues against positing intention over and above beliefs and desires. And Peter Langland--‐ Hassan (2012) argues that actions involved in pretending, which would seem to require imagining, don't in fact employ a distinct cognitive attitude of imagining; he thinks one can make do with positing only conditional beliefs and desires.1 I think we shouldn't limit our ontology in this fashion. Mental states underlying human action are various and interesting. Thus, this entry discusses how different sorts of imagining-a term I'll clarify-play critical roles in causing and even (for some sorts of action) constituting actions. I proceed as follows. Since Peter Carruthers and Elizabeth Picciuto (this volume) discuss pretending specifically, I won't focus on it, except to illustrate some relations between pretense and action generally. Imagination supports many forms of action, and my topic is this broader class. In section 1, I describe how imagistic imagining (mental imagery) helps structure actions. In section 2, I discuss propositional imagining (which I've also called attitude imagining) and present some still--‐controversial ideas about how it figures in action. In section 3, I explain how constructive imagination is necessary for actions in which the agent considers more than one option. 3 Section 1: Imagery--‐oriented Action Let's start with an example. Now that Frank has a yard, he goes to the shelter for a dog to rescue. "How big of a dog?" asks the keeper. Frank says, "About this_______ big." As he says "this_______" he gestures with his hand a certain height off the ground-about two feet-visualizing his future dog, who would be too big to lay comfortably on his lap but small enough to sit with him on the couch. As he answers the keeper's question, he imagines the fantasy dog in the space next to him and puts his hand on top of its imagined back. This example highlights one of two important roles mental imagery, or imagistic imagining, can play in guiding action. Mental imagery is internal mental representation that is structured like percepts and is to some extent phenomenologically similar to perception (see Nanay, this volume; Gregory, this volume). Visual imagery resembles visual perception; auditory imagery resembles auditory perception; and so on. Imagery is uniquely suited to guiding actions on possible objects or properties that are projected into the agent's surrounding environment.2 Imaged content can take the object acted--‐on role in the causation and constitution of action. Let's call the type of action we're discussing here imagery--‐guided action. (It's the first of two types of action that fall under the broader heading of imagery--‐oriented action.) Petting an imagined cat, pinning the tail on the donkey, avoiding the armchair when you walk to the bathroom in the dark of the night, pantomiming turning a doorknob, and holding a shirt up in front of an imagined friend for whom you're buying a present, etc. are all imagery--‐ guided action, since mental imagery is used to represent the spatial structure of potential objects in one's surrounding environment in relation to which one acts. Imagistic imagining contributes to imagery--‐guided action in four ways: 4 1. Imagistic imagining represents an object or property as having a location in space. In the visual case, it represents shape too. 2. The imaged object or property is not present to current perception. 3. The imagistic imagining integrates with perception insofar as the projected object or property is represented as being in the agent's perceived surrounding space. 4. The agent directs bodily movement toward the object projected by the imagery, using the imagery jointly with perception as a guide.3 Perceptual memory makes these features possible by encoding a rich body of information that can be retrieved and manipulated in imagistic imagining (Schachter and Addis 2007), which can then guide action in the actual space surrounding the agent. The examples I gave include pretend actions (petting the imagined cat) and ordinary or "plain" actions (avoiding the armchair). But one might be tempted to think that, since it is a form of "imagining," imagery can only generate pretense. How is it possible that imagery--‐ guided action can be of both types (pretend and ordinary action)? The answer is that mental imagery can figure in the constituent structure of many sorts of propositional attitudes, including both beliefs and propositional imaginings (see below). When we talk about propositional attitudes, we talk about the attitude in question, the representation in question, and the content of said representation. On the attitude dimension, we distinguish belief (taking a proposition to describe reality, roughly) from fictional or propositional imagining (taking a proposition to describe a fictional state of affairs, roughly). Importantly, since the representational dimension of a mental state is independent of the attitude dimension (you can believe r or hypothesize r or whatever--‐attitude r for any propositional representation r), and since mental imagery is a value on the representational dimension, mental imagery can figure as constituent(s) in both beliefs and in propositional imaginings, like beliefs about the location of an armchair in the bedroom and imaginings about the shape of an imagined cat (cf. Langland--‐Hassan forthcoming for more detail on this point). The ability of imagery to figure in attitudes of either type allows imagery--‐guided action to 5 include some ordinary actions (avoiding the armchair), where the imagery is encoded in beliefs, and some pretense actions (petting the imagined cat), where the imagery is encoded in propositional imaginings. Thus, imagery--‐guided action crosscuts the categories of pretend and ordinary action. It should be clear how imagery helps cause imagery--‐guided actions: the spatially rich structure of imagery guides spatially rich action. But why say imagery can be constitutive of actions? There is more to be said on this topic than is appropriate for this entry, but an example, which can be multiplied, is worth mentioning. Say you are showing a friend the size of an animal you saw. "It's about this_______ big," you say with a gesture. You don't know the name of the animal, but you visually remember it and hence can imagistically imagine its dimensions. If the animal you visualize happens to be a groundhog, then your action is gesturing the size of a groundhog; if the animal you visualize happens to be a porcupine, then your action is gesturing the size of a porcupine. This will be so, even if the motions you make with your hands in either case are physically type identical to those in the other case. Furthermore, you may have no other representations in mind, aside from imagery, that track the difference between the animals. So since the action types in either case are different (gesturing the size of a groundhog vs. gesturing the size of a porcupine), and since the only mentalistic (or physical) difference is in the imagery, the difference in action type must be constituted by the difference in imagery. Now that we've addressed imagery--‐guided action, let's turn to the second major way imagistic imagining can be used to control action. Say you're doing an impression of the characteristic hand gestures of Don Corleone, as played by Marlon Brando. You're likely to visualize Don Corleone's gestures, recalling visual memories formed watching The Godfather, and then imitate what you visualize. Further examples include gestures in playing charades, such as imitating-in forelimb posture and jumping motion-an 6 imagistically imagined kangaroo. This category also includes many actions used to communicate with others when words are lacking. Say you want to refer to a woman from last night's party and have forgotten her name. "The woman who walked like this_______," you say, accompanying "this_______" with a walking motion that imitates that which you visualize (cf. Kaplan 1967). This action type doesn't just include imitation of visual imagery; it can include auditory imagery, as when you do an impression of someone's voice, and even tactile imagery, as when you demonstrate a massage technique you learned on a friend. Let's call this type imagery--‐imitating action. We can, as mentioned, put imagery--‐guided action and imagery--‐imitating action under a broader type: imagery--‐oriented action. What explains the existence of imagery--‐ oriented action? It is a cousin of perception--‐oriented action. When you grasp a cup or copy the motions of someone you're looking at in a game of "Simon Says," your perceptual states provide control structures for your action. As you reach for the cup, you do not form a series of abstract beliefs of the form now the cup is 8 inches from my hand, now the cup is 7 inches from my hand, now the cup is 6 . . . Rather, your visual perception of the relation between cup and hand forms the input into your motor system that allows your muscles to contract such that you ultimately grasp the cup.4 Granted, beliefs and desires-believing there's water in the cup and desiring water-may figure into the initiation of the action, but perceptual states are the cognitive input into its more immediate guidance. Likewise, in imitating what one sees, one lets visual percepts shape one's bodily movement, a process that sidesteps mediating beliefs and desires. Evidence that beliefs and desires are left out of the immediate structuring of perception--‐oriented imitative action is as follows: in playing "Simon Says," one is easily "tricked" into imitating an action one does not want to imitate and that goes contrary to what one believes the rules of the game to be, simply because the leader issues a command and performs in full view an action to be copied after the imitative process has 7 been started. In such a case, percepts control the actions directly, for the most part bypassing the mediating influence of beliefs and desires (otherwise put, the mistakes one makes in Simon Says are evidence that such bypassing occurs). Imagery--‐oriented action exists in virtue of the same action--‐structuring pathways that account for perception--‐oriented action. Imagistic imagining can replace perception as the structuring representation. Often enough, we find ourselves in need of the sorts of action--‐structuring that percepts give in virtue of their spatial and temporal richness, even though at that moment we lack the full complement of perceptual states that would facilitate the action we wish to perform. So we rely on imagery instead, which employs the same representational formats as perception and is processed largely in perceptual cortices of the brain (Kosslyn, Thompson, and Ganis 2006). This brings us to our first lesson. LESSON 1: Imagistic imagining can structure actions in the same manners as percepts do, in absence of percepts that would otherwise structure the action. Insofar as imagery falls under the broad heading of imagination, Lesson 1 identifies an important contribution imagination makes to the causation and constitution of action. It is a form of action causation in which beliefs and desires are not the mental states most immediate; rather, any influence that beliefs and desires have is mediated by imagery, which structures the action more directly. And since the contents of the imagery can play a role in determining what the actions even are, imagery has a constitutive role in some actions as well. Section 2: Imaginative Attitudes and Desires in Action In addition to imagery, another mental state falls under the term "imagination," typically called propositional imagining. This is a cognitive attitude distinct from belief that 8 (according to most scholars; see below for the controversy) underlies abilities to pretend and to follow fiction. Mental imagery can be part of the constituent structure of propositional imagining. But many scholars think that there can be propositional imagining without imagery and imagery without propositional imagining.5 In any case, it is fair to say that propositional imagining makes contributions to action of its own kind. (Note here that I am distinguishing propositional imagining, which figures in pretend play and cognition of fiction, from supposition, which is used more in inference, argument, and verbal behavior. Making that distinction rigorous is another project.) We can start by contrasting the contribution of propositional imagining with the contribution of belief, or what I (2014b) call factual belief, to pretend action. In guiding pretense, factual belief and propositional imagining combine to form a two--‐map cognitive structure, where each layer or "map" in the cognitive structure makes its own sort of contribution. In pretending a sofa is a spaceship, you might have the following cluster of factual beliefs. FB: the sofa is in the living room. FB: the sofa is made of fabric, wood, and cushioning. FB: the sofa is of normal dimensions, about 3' x 3' x 6'. Those factual beliefs and others constitute the first map. (Note that these beliefs can't just be identified as percepts, since you'd continue to hold them even with your eyes closed. If one wishes, however, one can include percepts in the first map; this won't change the present point.) You might then have the following propositional imaginings, which constitute the second map. FI: the sofa is a spaceship in outer space. FI: the spaceship is made of light, durable metal and has controls for flying. FI: the spaceship is about the size of a medium--‐sized airplane. 9 Kendall Walton (1990) would point out that we get to many of the elements in the second map from elements in the first map by way of "principles of generation": principles of a given game of make--‐believe that prescribe certain imaginings, given certain inputs or beliefs about the props in one's environment. But the present point is that both maps help guide your subsequent bodily movements. When you say, "Let's go to the control room" and then move to the other end of the sofa, your movement on the 'spaceship' will be guided by (1) factual beliefs you have about the shape and structure of the actual sofa, since that is where you have to move your body, and by (2) propositional imaginings, since they represent controls on part of the 'spaceship'. That both maps are used in guiding pretense is an elementary point, but it's easy to miss. Some theorists write as if, in pretend play, only imaginings are implicated in guiding the actions.6 Other theorists hold that beliefs are the only propositional attitudes that can be the direct cognitive input into choosing bodily movements, even in pretense. The first mistake, I think, is fueled by an intense focus on imagination-a good focus to have- coupled with the fact that the relevant factual beliefs are often mundane and unnoticeable. (One doesn't think about the fact that one believes the sofa is in the living room.) The second mistake is fueled, I think, by the prominence belief is given in explaining action. Shaun Nichols and Stephen Stich (2003), for example, hold that imaginings cause conditional beliefs, and that these conditional beliefs, combined with desires, produce action; so for them, imaginings guide action only indirectly, mediated by beliefs. Langland--‐ Hassan (2012) goes further. He holds that there is no distinct cognitive attitude of imagining at all that figures in the etiology of pretense; rather, conditional beliefs do all the work. As an antidote to both mistakes, we can keep in mind that (for example) the pretender represents a 'cockpit' at some specific location on the actual sofa. That is, the pretender 10 propositionally imagines there is a cockpit at a place on the sofa, where the shape of the sofa is tracked by beliefs. Both layers in the two--‐map cognitive structure help guide the action. LESSON 2: Actions that express propositional imaginings rely also on factual beliefs to guide them, since those actions take place within the confines of the real world and agents use factual beliefs to track reality. Some research in the developmental psychology of pretend play helps cement this point (cf. Weisberg, this volume). Claire Golomb and Regina Kuersten (1996) had children play with adults at making 'cookies' out of playdough. To test whether the children ever really lost track of the reality/fantasy distinction, the adult experimenters would take an actual bite out of the playdough 'cookie'. If the children had lost track of the fact that the playdough was not really a cookie, this would not have surprised them. But they typically were surprised, which shows that they were tracking the identity of the playdough all along (factual belief), while simultaneously labeling it as being a cookie (propositional imagining). On the basis of our findings it seems likely that the world of pretence and reality are not mutually exclusive. The playing child monitors events occurring in reality and maintains the duality between the two modes of thought. In this model of play, thoughts about reality run parallel to thoughts about pretence, although pretence would be the predominant mode of thinking during play. (215) Furthermore, in order to interact with playdough with their hands, children have to rely on their ordinary factual beliefs about the shape, texture, and consistency of actual playdough.7 Having established Lesson 2, we can further inquire exactly how propositional imaginings generate actions. In particular, how do they interact with desires or motivation generally speaking? One suggestion, which I (2009) think is partially correct, comes from David Velleman (2000). Velleman holds that propositional imaginings cause a wide variety of actions-not just pretense-in the same way that beliefs do. Just as we perform actions that would satisfy our desires if our beliefs are true, so too we perform actions that would satisfy our desires (or "wishes") if our imaginings were true. Velleman develops several examples, 11 but walking through his extension of an example from Hume will suffice to illustrate the idea. His treatment of this particular case can be debated (see footnote 11), but I think it is fair to say that at least some actions will have roughly the etiology Velleman describes. Hume (1740/1978: 148) describes a man suspended high above the ground in a cage, from which he knows (and hence believes) there is no chance he'll actually fall, who nevertheless feels a great amount of fear. Velleman extends this case to one in which the man also clings to the bars as if he's about to fall and parses the example as follows. The man imagines that if he let's go, he'll fall. This imagining (in conjunction with the desire not to fall) causes clinging behavior that is like the behavior he would have performed if he believed that if he let go, he'd fall. For Velleman, this illustrates how imagining (as a propositional attitude) makes the same contribution to action that belief does. Furthermore, Nishi Shah and David Velleman (2005) extend this view to all cognitive attitudes, a class of propositional attitudes that includes hypotheses, assumptions, imaginings, and any attitude that represents the world as being a certain way. Effectively, they replace the formula agents perform actions that will satisfy their desires if the relevant beliefs are true (other things equal) with agents perform actions that will satisfy their desires (or wishes) if the relevant cognitive attitudes are true (other things equal).8 As mentioned, I think there is something right about this generalization of the Davidsonian view of action causation, even if it needs to be qualified. I'll start with the sorts of case for which it seems right and then proceed to the qualification. The categories of action for which Velleman's picture seems most plausible are explicit pretense and some forms of expressive action. Consider pretending to stab a monster with a make--‐believe sword. Let's say I'm imagining that a pillow is the monster and that the ruler I'm holding is a sword. The action 12 involves shoving one end of the ruler into the pillow. Now we ask: what motivates this action? Otherwise put, what do I want such that I perform the action I do? (If I had had other motivations than whatever ones I did have, I might have pretended to give the monster a haircut with the blade of the sword, as opposed to stabbing it.) The Velleman picture seems to work for this action. Arguably, the following propositional attitudes are at work. IMAGINING: This{ruler} is a sword. IMAGINING: This{pillow} is a monster. IMGAGINING: Thrusting my sword into the monster will kill it. DESIRE: I kill the monster. Velleman's view is compelling enough that others extend and defend it. Some, like Tyler Doggett and Andy Egan (2007, 2012) even posit a special kind of imaginative desire that interacts with imagining in this fashion, which typically gets called i--‐desire. There has been some controversy around whether it's a good idea to posit a separate kind of desire, with Amy Kind (2011) and Shannon Spaulding (2013), and I (2011, 2014a) holding that the posit is under--‐motivated and superfluous (see also Kind, this volume). Shen--‐yi Liao and Tyler Doggett (2014) would reply that reasons to posit propositional imagining as separate from belief are at least prima facie reasons for positing i--‐desires as separate from desires. So the debate is still unresolved. But even though the question of i--‐desires is unsettled, it's fair to say that even those who reject i--‐desires don't necessarily reject the idea that imaginings can interact with desires of some sort to produce pretense actions. And once we set the question of regular desires vs. i--‐desires aside, Velleman's initial account has gone largely unchallenged. The other category of action in which imaginings seem to interact with desires in the way Velleman describes is expressive action. This is something of a vague category, but 13 the following example gives a sense of it. I was sitting on the A Train in New York one summer's day, when I noticed a woman reading a magazine. From where I was sitting, I could also see the pictures on the pages. At one point, she turned the page to reveal a two--‐ page Louis Vuitton advertisement, featuring Sean Connery lying on his side on the beach. At once, on seeing this image, she exclaimed (under her breath), "Oh, Sean Connery!", and proceeded eagerly to kiss the face of Sean Connery in the picture, after which she stroked his cheek gently. (In expressive actions generally, certain desires or emotions take on a higher--‐than--‐usual salience in motivating action.) Now, as Rosalind Hursthouse (1991) would point out, a belief--‐desire explanation of this expressive action (or arational action, as she would put it) looks implausible, no matter how we flesh it out. We could say that the woman was temporarily deluded and hence believed Sean Connery was in front of her, and that desiring to kiss Sean Connery she then planted the kiss on the picture. But the woman need not have been insane; nor need one be generally in expressive action. Alternately, we could try to posit a desire that I feel good and a belief that by kissing this image of Sean Connery I will feel good. But this seems to posit the wrong desire. If she really had an operative desire to feel good, why was she on the train instead of out buying ice cream? A more plausible suggestion than the belief--‐desire explanation presents itself. Rather, we can say that the woman on the A Train had the following pair of mental states: IMAGINING: Sean Connery is before me. DESIRE: I kiss Sean Connery. This pair then causes the action that is similar to the action she would have performed had she had the following pair. BELIEF: Sean Connery is before me. DESIRE: I kiss Sean Connery. 14 Imagining, then, can stand in for belief in the causation of this kind of expressive action. We can now state our third lesson. Lesson 3: propositional imaginings can, under certain conditions, take on a belief--‐like role in guiding actions that are motivated by desires, where that role is specified by the standard belief--‐desire explanation form. Now we ask: under what conditions? In my view, there has not been enough of an attempt in the philosophical literature to date at answering this question. So what follows is still a preliminary sketch. Humans are adept at setting up play situations. When parents adopt high--‐pitched voices and give knowing looks to their children before engaging in what would otherwise be a silly or confused action, like 'drinking' from an empty cup, they've set up one such situation, or practical setting as I call it. In this case, it's the practical setting of make--‐believe. The proposal then, is that being in the practical setting of make--‐believe allows imaginings to take on a belief--‐like role in relation to desires in guiding actions, where it is the agent's awareness of that setting that constitutes the actions as full pretense.9 The setting of make--‐believe is constituted by a cluster of three shared expectations that agents have, when they are pretending together. The first expectation is that episodes of make--‐believe will be of limited duration; whatever imaginary actions and events occur during the episode will not be regarded as having occurred once the episode is over (Harris 2000). The second expectation is that certain signals trigger the start and stop of any episode of make--‐believe (unless it is an instance of solo pretense). Some of the signals may be innate, since they arise early in childhood (Lillard and Witherington 2004), but the signals are many and various and, after a certain point, determined by culture. Signals include anything from higher--‐pitched, slower voices and knowing looks (in childhood pretense) to verbal cues ("Let's play X!") or physical events, like lights going down on the stage. The third expectation is that some objects, spaces, properties, and events will be 15 assigned identities other than what they are factually believed to be (Leslie 1987): a sofa will be a spaceship; an empty space will be a lion; red will be hot; etc. This third expectation is the most substantive in defining the practical setting of make--‐believe, since the other two make reference to that setting itself (an episode of the setting of make--‐believe will be of limited duration; there will be certain signals that trigger the start and stop of the setting of make--‐believe), though they are still informative insofar as they put constraints on the nature of the setting. Our qualification of Lesson 3 then is this: imaginings have a belief--‐like role in guiding action in the setting of make--‐believe and not otherwise. Though I think this qualification is broadly right, a difficulty arises. In expressive action, there seems to be no signal that sets up make--‐believe; nor is it clear what the duration is. So it seems that the belief--‐like role that imagining can play in guiding action spills over from the setting of make--‐believe into other moments in life. This realization may be what led Velleman to think that the motivational role of imagining was the same as that of belief simpliciter. The problem is tricky because the extension of the term "expressive action" is fuzzy. But I think we can say the following in favor of our qualification on Lesson 3: in cases where expressive action clearly does involve propositional imagining in a belief--‐like role in relation to desire, there does seem to be a practical setting of make--‐believe that gets briefly set up by the agent, or at least something like one. Returning to the example of the woman on the A Train, she seems to have set up a spontaneous, brief make--‐believe setting after all. The fact that she knew perfectly well that the picture was a picture shows that she was aware that she was assigning an object a value other than what it was in reality (the third expectation), treating a portion of picture as a man. And the fact that she stopped after less than two seconds shows that the episode was of limited duration (the first expectation). So 16 the only expectation lacking is the signal that initiates the make--‐believe, and presumably such a signal wasn't needed, since there were no other real people involved in her episode of expressive action. On this view, much (not all) expressive action is un--‐signaled pretense, though it is spontaneous and unreflective enough that it is not thought of as pretense and certainly differs from paradigmatic cases of pretense in that it is not as deliberate. Let's call this category of expressive actions mimetic expressive actions.10, 11 Insofar as such mimetic expressive actions are woven throughout daily life, a certain amount of pretending is woven throughout daily life. Most adults do not set up explicit, signaled episodes of pretense as often as children do. But the tendency to pretend often doesn't really go away. Herbert Clark and Richard Gerrig (1984) argue that ironic speech, such as "He's a smart one" (said of someone thought to be unintelligent), is a form of pretense, where the speaker is pretending to be someone who thinks what is said and is speaking to an audience who will receive the message. If they're right, this is another form of low--‐level pretending in addition mimetic expressive action that pervades regular life without, often being noticed as such. To sum up, humans often represent objects, spaces, properties, and events as other than what they believe them to be. Propositional imagining can function as a secondary map to represent these alternate identities. And in certain settings, propositional imagining guides action, often in a belief--‐like way in relation to desire. But throughout such actions, factual beliefs retain their usual role in representing the states of affairs in the physical world with which the agent must continue to interact in order to execute the many forms of pretense at all.12 17 Section 3: Constructive Imagination and Action Choice Temple Grandin (2014) has recently criticized the designers of the Fukishima nuclear power plants, which had a meltdown in the wake of the tsunami of 2011, along the following lines: During the Japanese tsunami catastrophe of 2011, the Fukushima nuclear power plants melted down because the tidal wave that came over the seawall flooded not only the main generator but its backup. And where was the backup located? In the basement-the basement of a nuclear power plant that is located next to the sea. As I read many descriptions of the accident, I could see the water flowing into the plant, and I could see the emergency generators disappearing under the water. (169, Grandin's italics) In short, the power plant where the meltdown occurred had a cooling system that ran on electricity; both the power grid and the backup generators lost function due to the tsunami; so the cooling system failed and there was a meltdown. Grandin's point, as I interpret it, is that whoever designed the plant failed to imagine the possibility that the basement, where the backup generators were, would flood, and her implication is that this failure of imagination is in part responsible for the failure to act. Grandin is very much talking about mental imagery, but there is another sense of the term "imagination" that we have not canvassed so far that is critical to seeing a more fundamental point. The term "imagination" can refer to the capacity to generate novel representations that are not arrived at simply by remembering or by perception of the nearby environment. To disambiguate, I call this capacity constructive imagination. (Constructive imagination does not entail propositional imagining or mental imagery, though it may involve either or both.13) Grandin's main point is that certain possibilities are more likely to be arrived at by visual or (as she puts it) "artistic" minds than by mathematical minds, which is why "different kinds of minds" are needed. This is a substantive thesis about the relationship between imagistic imagining and constructive imagining. But for purposes of the present 18 entry, we should extract two more general morals about the relationship between constructive imagination and action. First, constructive imagination generates representations of possible states of the world-ways the world might be-on the basis of which we might choose actions. Second, constructive imagination generates representations of possible actions to take. If one's imagination fails to generate a possibility of either sort that it should, then we describe this failure as a failure of imagination. Some basic decision theory will help make these two points precise. In the top row of a typical decision table, possible states of the world (relevant to the action choice) are listed, along with probabilities assigned to them (which sum to one). In the first column of the table, possible actions are listed. In the body of the decision table are the expected outcomes of each action, for any given possible state of the world (often called "state of nature"), along with the values of the outcomes. One then chooses actions by weighting those values according to the probabilities of each possible state of the world in a function that gives an expected value for each action. We have the following structure: Possible state of the world 1 (p1) ... Possible state of the world n (pn) Expected value of Action Action 1 Outcome / value1,1 ... Outcome / value1,n f(p1,..., pn, value1,1,..., value1,n) = expected value of Action 1 ... ... ... ... ... Action m Outcome / valuem,1 ... Outcome / valuem,n f(p1,..., pn, valuem,1,..., valuem,n) = expected value of Action m Let us suppose that in the above table the probabilities have been carefully assigned and the expected values carefully calculated. Is this sufficient for making a good decision on how to act? No, a problem arises: what if we failed to imagine a possible way the world might be? That is, a better imaginer might have come up not with n possible ways the world might be, but rather n+1. Arguably, something like this is precisely what happened in Fukushima. No doubt the "mathematical minds" had carefully figured out the probability of each of the n 19 possible states of the world that they did imagine-and good for them-but they failed to imagine possibility n+1: the flooding of the basement. And since they never imagined it in the first place, they couldn't assign it a probability in their decisions about how to act. Likewise for actions. If one doesn't imagine buying a watertight door, then one can't assign a value to the outcomes of this action, given the ways the world might be. Grandin's recent work emphasizes that, where one lacks a certain kind of constructive imagination, one should rely on another kind of mind, one that has the requisite form of constructive imagination, to be able to make good decisions and take appropriate actions. This brings us to Lesson 4, which generalizes Grandin's point. Lesson 4: constructive imagination is a necessary precursor to choices that select among multiple possible actions, given multiple possible states of the world, since possibilities must be first represented before they can be assigned probabilities and values.14 Conclusion: Acting in Relation to Possibilia Let's take stock. We've seen that the terms "imagine" and "imagination" can be taken in three ways, with each kind of imagining making its own characteristic contributions to action. Imagistic imagining (or mental imagery) involves percept--‐like representational structures that can integrate with the perceptual manifold and substitute for percepts in guiding bodily movements (Lesson 1). This is a causal contribution, but we saw also that the contents of the imagery can also constitute otherwise identical bodily movements as distinct action types, as in gesturing the size of a porcupine as opposed to a hedgehog. Mental imagery figures in imagery--‐oriented action, which divides (at least) into imagery--‐ guided action and imagery--‐imitating action. Propositional imagining is an attitude distinct from belief, where to imagine (in this sense) that p is to regard that content as fictional as opposed to real. We saw that people do 20 act on their propositional imaginings in explicit make--‐believe and mimetic expressive action and that they do so in manners similar to how they would have, if they had believed the contents of those very imaginings (Lesson 3). But when people do act on propositional imaginings, they continue to track what their surrounding environment is actually like by using factual beliefs (Lesson 2). Constructive imagining is the capacity (or, more likely, cluster of capacities) for coming up with representations that go beyond the deliveries of one's perceptions of the nearby environment. Constructive imagination figures in action choice as follows. When one chooses actions, one represents various ways the world might be for the sake of predicting and valuing likely outcomes of the actions. But one can't act on a possibility one has failed to imagine in the first place, and one can't assign values to the outcomes of actions that never occurred to one. A failure of either sort is a failure of imagination. Thus, not only is constructive imagination involved in the psychology of action choice, but it is also an underexplored dimension that can be normatively appraised.15 What these three notions of imagination all have in common is this: Humans perform actions not just on what we take to exist in our immediate environment. We also act in relation to objects, spaces, properties, and events that are remote in time, actual space, possibility space, or epistemic space. We gesture the size of creatures that are not before us and operate control panels that only exist in fictions. When we don't know which possibility is actual, we represent the ones that are relevant16, if we imagine well, and then act. Thus, various forms of imagining surround humans with possibilia, representations of which guide action in the world. 21 Acknowledgement For helpful exchanges, I'd like to thank Kenny Easwaran, Amy Kind, Shen--‐yi Liao, Rachel McKinnon, Bence Nanay, Joëlle Proust, and David Spurrett. References Bach, T. (2010) "The Objects of Pretense," Conference Talk at Southern Society of Philosophy and Psychology. Briscoe, R. (forthcoming) "On the Uses of Make--‐Perceive," in Fiona Macpherson & Fabian Dorsch (eds.), Perceptual Memory and Perceptual Imagination, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Carruthers, P. and Picciuto, E. (this volume) Clark, H. and Gerrig, R. (1984) "On the Pretense Theory of Irony," Journal of Experimental Psychology 113(1): 121--‐126. Davidson, D. (1963) "Actions, reasons, and causes," Journal of Philosophy 60(23): 685--‐700. Doggett, T., and A. Egan (2007) "Wanting Things You Don't Want: the Case for an Imaginative Analogue of Desires," Philosopher's Imprint 9:01/17/13 Doggett, T., and A. Egan (2012) "How we feel about Terrible, Non--‐Existent Mafiosi," Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 84 (2): 277--‐306. Gendler, T. S. (2003) "On the Relation between Pretense and Belief," in D. M. Lopes and M. Kieran (eds.) Imagination, Philosophy and the Arts, Routledge, London: 125--‐141. Gendler, T. S. (2008a) ''Alief and Belief,'' Journal of Philosophy 105: 634–663. Gendler, T. S. (2008b) ''Alief in Action (and Reaction),'' Mind and Language 23: 552–585. Golomb, C. and Kuersten, R. (1996) "On the transition from pretense play to reality: What are the rules of the game?" British Journal of Developmental Psychology 14: 203--‐217. Grandin, T. (2014) The Autistic Brain, New York, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Gregory, D. (this volume) Harris, P. (2000) The Work of the Imagination, Oxford: Blackwell. Hume, D. (1740/1978) A Treatise of Human Nature, L. A. Selby--‐Bigge and P. H. Nidditch (eds.), Oxford, Oxford Clarendon Press. Hursthouse, R. (1991) "Arational Actions," Journal of Philosophy 88(2): 57--‐68. 22 Kaplan, D. (1968) "Quantifying In," Synthese 19: 178--‐214. Kind, A. (this volume) Kind, A. (2001) "Putting the Image back in Imagination," Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 62(1): 85--‐110. Kind, A. (2011) "The Puzzle of Imaginative Desire," Australasian Journal of Philosophy 89(3): 421--‐439. Kosslyn, S., Thompson, W., and Ganis, G. (2006) The Case for Mental Imagery, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Liao, S. and Doggett, T. (2014) "The Imagination Box," Journal of Philosophy 111(5): 259--‐ 275. Langland--‐Hassan, P. (2012) "Pretense, Imagination, and Belief: the Single Attitude Theory," Philosophical Studies 159: 155--‐179. Langland--‐Hassan, P. (forthcoming) "Imaginative Attitudes," Philosophy and Phenomenological Research Leslie, A. M. (1987) "Pretense and representation: The origins of 'theory of mind,'" Psychological Review 94: 412–426. Lillard, A. S and Witherington, D. C. (2004) "Mothers' Behavior Modifications During Pretense and Their Possible Signal Value for Toddlers," Developmental Psychology 40(1): 95--‐113. Matravers, D. (2010) "Why We Should Give Up on the Imagination," Midwest Studies in Philosophy 34(1): 190--‐199. Milner, A. D. and Goodale, M. A. (1995) The Visual Brain in Action, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Nanay, B. (this volume) Nanay, B. (2013) Between Perception and Action, Oxford: Oxford University Press. Nanay, B. (forthcoming) "The Role of Imagination in Decision--‐Making" Mind & Language Nichols, S., and S. Stich (2003) Mindreading, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Schacter, D. L., & Addis, D. R. (2007) "The cognitive neuroscience of constructive memory: Remembering the past and imagining the future," Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B 362: 773--‐786. Shah, N., and Velleman, J. D. (2005) "Doxastic Deliberation," Philosophical Review 114(4): 497--‐534. 23 Sinhababu, N. (2013) "The Desire--‐Belief Account of Intention Explains Everything," Nous 47(4): 680--‐696. Spaulding, S. (2013) "Rationality and Desire in Fiction," American Society of Aesthetics 71st Annual Meeting. Velleman, J. D. (2000) "On the Aim of Belief," in The Possibility of Practical Reason, Oxford University Press, Oxford: 244--‐281. Van Leeuwen, N. (2009) "The Motivational Role of Belief," Philosophical Papers 38(2): 219--‐ 246. Van Leeuwen, N. (2011) "Imagination is where the Action is," Journal of Philosophy 108(2), 55--‐77. Van Leeuwen, N. (2013) "The Meanings of 'Imagine' Part I: Constructive Imagination," Philosophy Compass 8(3), 220--‐230. Van Leeuwen, N. (2014a) "The Meanings of 'Imagine' Part II: Attitude and Action," Philosophy Compass 9(11): 791--‐802. Van Leeuwen, N. (2014b) "Religious credence is not factual belief," Cognition 133(3): 698--‐ 715 Walton, K. (1990) Mimesis as Make--‐Believe, Cambridge, Harvard University Press. Weisberg, D. S. (this volume) Further Reading In addition to the pieces already cited here, I recommend the following as entrance points into research relating to imagination and action: Bratman, M. E. (1992) "Practical Reasoning and Acceptance in a Context," Mind 101, pp. 1 – 15. (Explores how acceptance in a context-a non--‐belief cognitive attitude-can be the cognitive input into action choice.) Currie, G., and I. Ravenscroft (2002) Recreative Minds: Imagination in Philosophy and Psychology, Oxford: Oxford University Press. (A wide--‐ranging simulationist account of imagination that also explores links to action.) Egan, A. (2009) "Imagination, Delusion, and Self--‐Deception," In Delusions, Self--‐Deception, and Affective Influences on Belief--‐Formation, Tim Bayne and Jordi Fernandez, eds., Psychology Press. (Discusses delusions as states in between believing and imagining and uses links to action to motivate this position.) 24 Funkhouser, E. and Spaulding, S. (2009) "Imagination and Other Scripts," Philosophical Studies 143(3): 291--‐314. (Explores various ways imagination can be a script for guiding action.) Proust, J. (forthcoming) "Time and Action: Impulsivity, Habit, Strategy," Review of Philosophy and Psychology (Explores the question of what the immediate mental antecedents to action are.) Notes 1 Matravers (2010) is similar in spirit to Langland--‐Hassan, except Matravers has two differences: (1) He's dealing with cognition of fiction as opposed to pretend action; (2) instead of positing conditional beliefs, he posits beliefs with an in--‐the--‐story operator as a replacement for imagining. Nichols and Stich (2003), who are in many ways the inspiration for Langland--‐Hassan, also implicitly have a belief--‐ desire psychology for pretending, since they see imaginings as causing conditional beliefs, which then cause pretense actions in conjunction with desires. See Nanay's (forthcoming) introduction for an overview of various critiques of the belief--‐desire theory of action not canvassed in this entry. 2 As I argue in 2011. 3 These features bring together ideas from my 2011, Nanay (2013), and Briscoe (forthcoming). 4 Note that the percepts guiding the movement aren't necessarily the conscious ones (Milner and Goodale 1995; Nanay 2013). 5 There is some disagreement here, though this particular issue is not hotly debated. Kind (2001), for example, argues that propositional imagining requires mental imagery. I know of no one, however, who thinks mental imagery requires propositional imagining. 6 Bach (2010), for example, seems guilty of this. 7 Gendler (2003) and Liao and Doggett (2014) make much the same point. 8 My formulation, not theirs. 9 This is the view I argue for in 2009. 10 Mimetic expressive action overlaps with but doesn't have the same extension as semi--‐pretense, which I define in my 2011. In much mimetic expressive action, the agent is aware of the pretense--‐like character of her action, which is not true of semi--‐pretense. So not all mimetic expressive action is semi--‐pretense. Is all semi--‐pretense mimetic expressive action? This is trickier, but it appears it is not, since much semi--‐pretense isn't the expression of any desire or emotion at all; one may simply be "going through the motions" and be influenced by a mental image in so doing. 11 The one case that appears truly problematic for the present qualification on Lesson 3 is the case of the man clinging to the bars of the cage, since it seems that he is in no sense in a setting of make--‐ believe; yet he acts on his desires in conjunction with imagining he is going to fall anyway-at least this is how Velleman treats the case. But I think what we can say here, contra Velleman, is that it is most likely perception that is doing the work, rather than propositional imagining, in supplying the cognitive input into the clinging behavior: the mere sight of the ground so far below sparks fear and the clinging that is an expression thereof. So this is not a counterinstance to the qualification after all. See Gendler (2008a, 2008b) for a different treatment of this kind of case. 12 Exercise for the reader: how do the notions of practical setting and belief--‐like role in action allow us to solve the problem of distinguishing propositional imagining from mere supposition? 13 See my 2013 for further clarification. 14 Nanay (forthcoming) presents a model of decision--‐making that also emphasizes the role of imagination; his paper makes much the same point about the need to supplement the traditional belief--‐desire model of action. 15 Note that constructive imagining is not merely the capacity to generate imagistic imagining and propositional imagining, since constructive imagining can also figure in generating novel propositional beliefs as well. 16 Joëlle Proust informs me (personal communication) that she regards relevance as a norm for imagining.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 26 La composizione come identità da un punto di vista modale Massimiliano Carrara Dipartimento FISPPA, Sezione di Filosofia, Università di Padova [email protected] Giorgio Lando Dipartimento di Scienze Umane, Università dell'Aquila [email protected] Abstract In the debate about Composition as Identity (CI), a recurring pattern is to ask whether a certain feature of identity is also instantiated by composition. This recurring pattern is followed when, for example, the question is asked whether a whole and its parts are indiscernible. In following this pattern, it is methodologically desirable to assume the most standard account of the philosophical problems at stake. However, when the necessity of identity and the problem whether composition is as necessary as identity are at stake, the literature about CI often violates this methodological principle, and resorts to non-standard views about modality, such as counterpart theory. In this paper, we purport to remedy this anomaly and to assess CI on the background of a standard, broadly Kripkean view of modality, and in particular of the contention that a single entity exists in more than one possible world. Given this contention, the backer of CI is forced to relativize composition and, as a consequence, identity to possible worlds, thereby introducing a non-standard kind of identity. We will discuss the charge of adhocness which might be raised against the resulting variety of CI. Keywords: Identity, Composition, Mereology, Indiscernibility, Possible Worlds Received 26 September 2018; accepted 29 May 2019. 0. Introduzione Il dibattito sulla tesi della Composizione come Identità (CI) è incentrato su alcune caratteristiche costitutive dell'identità e segue spesso il seguente schema o pattern. Si prende in considerazione una caratteristica costitutiva dell'identità quale, ad esempio, l'indiscernibilità. Ci si chiede se un intero e le sue parti condividano tale caratteristica con l'identità, ossia siano tra loro indiscernibili così come lo sono le entità identiche. Se risulta che un intero e le sue parti sono in effetti indiscernibili e che pertanto questa caratteristica dell'identità è istanziata anche dalla composizione, allora questo risultato è considerato un'evidenza a favore di CI. Altrimenti, si ottiene un'evidenza contro CI. Anche nel caso che ci apprestiamo a discutere, che riguarda la necessità dell'identità, questo schema viene in genere seguito. In questo articolo ci proponiamo di seguirlo in un modo metodologicamente preferibile rispetto alla letteratura esistente, portando così alla luce una nuova, interessante varietà di CI. RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 27 La necessità è in genere considerata una caratteristica costitutiva dell'identità. La tesi della Necessità dell'Identità (NI) sostiene che ogni istanza della relazione di identità sussiste necessariamente. Quindi, se Saul è identico a Kripke allora è necessario che Saul sia identico a Kripke: non ci sono altri mondi possibili in cui essi sono due entità diverse. Lo schema usuale prevede quindi di chiedersi: la composizione è necessaria quanto l'identità? In questo articolo suggeriremo che, per rispondere a questa domanda, sia metodologicamente desiderabile assumere una concezione standard della modalità, ed in particolare una concezione dei mondi possibili tale che una e una stessa entità esiste in più di un mondo possibile. Data questa concezione standard della modalità (espressa ad esempio da (Kripke 1980; Plantinga 1974; Stalnaker 2003) e (Williamson 2013) e incorporata nella semantica standard della logica modale), la relazione di composizione deve essere relativizzata a mondi possibili. Una volta considerata questa relativizzazione, la relazione tra CI e NI risulterà essere più complessa di quanto non dica la letteratura corrente. In particolare, vedremo che ci si trova a distinguere due varietà di identità: l'una relativizzata ai mondi possibili e l'altra standard e assoluta. Si tratta di una distinzione che – come vedremo – da una parte è utile a rendere CI compatibile con la tesi che la composizione è contingente e dall'altra, però, espone CI al rischio di risultare una tesi ad hoc. Procederemo come segue. Nel §1, illustreremo lo schema metodologico ricorrente nel dibattito su CI. Nel §2 mostreremo come questo schema sia esemplificato nella letteratura esistente su CI e NI. Nel §3 si mostrerà che, se lo scopo è quello di chiedersi se CI sia vera o falsa, allora è bene assumere come sfondo una concezione standard della modalità tale che le entità esistono in più di un mondo possibile, l'identità attraverso mondi è ammessa e le proprietà sono relativizzate a mondi. Nel §4 mostreremo che non c'è alcuna ragione cogente per escludere le relazioni mereologiche, come la composizione, da questa relativizzazione. Nel §5 sosterremo che, dati CI e una concezione standard della modalità, anche l'identità deve essere relativizzata ai mondi possibili. Nel §6 approfondiremo la distinzione tra identità relativa ad un mondo e identità standard e spiegheremo perché tale distinzione esponga la varietà risultante di CI al rischio di essere ad hoc. Nel §7 mostreremo infine che la varietà risultante di CI può essere legittimamente assimilata alla cosiddetta versione debole di CI, in quanto rende esplicita un'analogia tra composizione ed identità standard. 1. Uno schema ricorrente nel dibattito su CI Molto spesso il dibattito a proposito di CI procede secondo uno schema o pattern fisso. Si considera una caratteristica costitutiva dell'identità standard. Secondo i sostenitori di CI (come (Baxter 1988; Bøhn 2014; Cotnoir 2013; Lewis 1991; Wallace 2011a) e altri), la composizione condivide con l'identità tale caratteristica costitutiva e questa è vista come una buona ragione per pensare che la composizione sia una genuina relazione di identità. Secondo gli oppositori di CI (come (Merricks 1999; van Inwagen 1994; Yi 1999) e altri), al contrario, la composizione non possiede tale caratteristica costitutiva dell'identità. E ciò mostra, secondo loro, che la composizione non è una genuina relazione d'identità. Come si è anticipato nel §0, un'applicazione particolarmente frequente di tale schema riguarda il principio di indiscernibilità degli identici, che quasi tutti pensano sia un principio fondamentale per la relazione di identità. Tale principio dice che le entità identiche hanno le stesse proprietà: se Saul è identico a Kripke, allora tutte le proprietà istanziate da Saul sono istanziate anche da Kripke e viceversa. RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 28 Vale per la composizione un principio analogo, secondo cui se delle entità x, y, z... compongono un'entità e, allora tutte le proprietà istanziate da x, y, z... sono istanziate anche da e e viceversa? Si consideri l'esempio seguente. L'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo compongono il Benelux. Secondo gli oppositori di CI, il fatto che l'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo sono tre e non uno, mentre il Benelux è uno e non tre, è sufficiente a mostrare che le parti e l'intero sono discernibili e quindi che la composizione non segue un analogo del principio di indiscernibilità degli identici. Dall'altra parte, i sostenitori di CI replicano sostenendo che le ascrizioni di cardinalità devono sempre essere relativizzate a concetti: una volta operata tale relativizzazione, sia l'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo da una parte che il Benelux dall'altra sono sia tre paesi che un'entità multinazionale e non emerge da questo alcuna forma di discernibilità tra parti e intero (si veda (Carrara and Lando 2017) per un'analisi critica di questo aspetto del dibattito su CI). Nel dibattito, entrambe le parti assumono che l'identità rispetti il principio di indiscernibilità degli identici e, tenendo fermo tale principio, si chiedono se anche la composizione lo rispetti. Si consideri ora la necessità dell'identità (NI). La necessità è considerata in genere una caratteristica costitutiva dell'identità, alla luce dei potenti argomenti che (Barcan 1947) e (Kripke 1963) hanno portato a favore di NI. Gli oppositori di CI (si veda in particolare (Merricks 1999)) sostengono che la composizione non gode di questa caratteristica costitutiva, dal momento che è – nella maggior parte dei casi – contingente che qualcosa abbia certe parti e che alcune entità compongano qualcosa. Ciò dimostrerebbe che la composizione non è identità. D'altra parte, i sostenitori di CI (e in particolare Bøhn 2014, Borghini 2005 e Wallace 2011a) negano che la composizione diverga dall'identità per questa caratteristica. Vedremo però nel §2 che nell'applicare lo schema ricorrente del dibattito su CI al caso dell'interazione tra CI e NI serve una particolare cautela. 2. La composizione come identità e la necessità dell'identità L'interazione fra CI e NI può essere illustrata per mezzo di questa semplice inferenza valida: a) la composizione è identità (CI); b) l'identità è necessaria (NI); c) perciò la composizione è necessaria. Riprendiamo l'esempio di prima. L'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo compongono il Benelux. Pertanto, secondo i sostenitori di CI, l'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo sono identici al Benelux. Alla luce di NI, ogni istanza di identità sussiste necessariamente. Perciò, la relazione che sussiste tra l'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo da una parte e il Benelux dall'altra (una relazione che è un'istanza dell'identità, ma anche della composizione) sussiste necessariamente. Pertanto l'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo compongono necessariamente il Benelux. Secondo (Merricks 1999) – un oppositore di CI – la composizione è una relazione contingente. Pertanto, la composizione manca di una caratteristica costitutiva dell'identità, la necessità, e questo mostra che la composizione non è identità. Che la composizione sia contingente sembrerebbe in effetti evidente anche per quanto riguarda il nostro esempio: è un fatto contingente che l'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo compongano il Benelux. Il Benelux sarebbe potuto non esistere a causa di un diverso corso degli eventi storici, che avrebbe potuto rendere l'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo acerrimi nemici e avrebbe pertanto loro impedito di costituire un'entità RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 29 sovranazionale. In uno scenario controfattuale del genere, l'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo non compongono il Benelux. Se è così, allora la conclusione c) dell'argomento formulato all'inizio della sezione, che è logicamente valido, è falsa. Bisogna quindi rigettare almeno una premessa dell'argomento. (NI) sembrerebbe però essere una premessa inattaccabile. Come Barcan e Kripke hanno dimostrato nei lavori sopra citati, NI può essere dimostrata a partire dalla riflessività necessaria dell'identità e dall'indiscernibilità degli identici: (Riflessività Necessaria dell'Identità) (Indiscernibilità degli identici) ___________________________________________________________________ (Necessità dell'Identità – NI) Se b) è inattaccabile alla luce dell'argomento di Barcan e Kripke, allora sostenere che c) (la necessità della composizione) è falsa ci obbliga a rigettare a): ovvero a sostenere che la composizione non è identità. Le reazioni dei sostenitori di CI sono state due: 1) (Bøhn 2009) e (Borghini 2005) hanno proposto di adottare, nella difesa di CI, la teoria delle controparti, teoria alla luce della quale l'identità è anch'essa contingente quanto la composizione. In forza della teoria delle controparti, Bohn e Borghini rifiutano la premessa b). Di conseguenza, c) (la necessità della composizione) non ci costringe più a rigettare a): il fatto che la composizione sia contingente non dimostra che la composizione non è identità, poiché anche l'identità è contingente. 2) Secondo un altro sostenitore di CI (si veda (Wallace 2014)), la composizione è invece, in effetti, una relazione tanto necessaria quanto l'identità. Secondo Wallace, la necessità della composizione è resa accettabile dall'adozione della cosiddetta dottrina delle parti modali, proposta per ragioni indipendenti da (Paul 2002; Schlesinger 1985) e altri. Non analizzeremo né criticheremo in questo articolo 1) e 2) e i loro presupposti. La loro plausibilità dipende in ultima analisi dall'adozione (che dev'essere indipendentemente motivata) del trattamento non standard della modalità (rispettivamente, la teoria delle controparti e la teoria delle parti modali) che esse presuppongono. Tuttavia, ci preme richiamare l'attenzione sullo scopo originario del dibattito (scopo condiviso da fautori ed oppositori di CI) e sul modo ottimale di perseguire tale scopo. Lo scopo è accertare se la composizione abbia tutte le caratteristiche costitutive dell'identità e sia perciò una relazione di identità, o, al contrario, manchi di alcune di tali caratteristiche e non sia una relazione di identità. Al fine di valutare se una certa caratteristica costitutiva dell'identità sia goduta anche dalla composizione (e stabilire quindi se CI sia vero o falso) è metodologicamente preferibile adottare, per quanto possibile, un trattamento standard dei vari problemi filosofici coinvolti. Se non lo facessimo, ci resterebbe il dubbio di aver confermato o confutato CI sulla base di un'assunzione falsa, che non c'entra con CI. La clausola "per quanto possibile" è resa indispensabile dal fatto che CI è di per sé una tesi non standard e controversa ed è, di conseguenza, incompatibile con alcune teorie standard. Laddove però CI è invece compatibile con una posizione standard, un principio metodologico di conservatività consiglia di tenere ferma tale posizione standard. Ad esempio, quando CI viene posta a confronto con il principio dell'indiscernibilità degli identici, è preferibile evitare RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 30 l'assunzione di ipotesi controverse, come la dottrina dell'identità relativa di (Geach 1967), secondo la quale l'indiscernibilità degli identici non è un principio valido. In generale, la conservatività ci suggerisce, quando ci si chiede se una determinata caratteristica sia condivisa o meno da identità e composizione, di mantenere un background condiviso di tesi standard che riguardano tale caratteristica. Se è così, tale principio metodologico dovrebbe essere seguito anche quando si confronta CI con NI. Al contrario, (Bøhn 2014, Borghini 2005) e (Wallace 2014) adottano teorie della modalità non standard, come la teoria delle controparti e la teoria delle parti modali. In ciò che segue, ci proponiamo invece di sviluppare il confronto tra CI e NI sullo sfondo di una concezione più standard della modalità. 3. Identità attraverso i mondi, indiscernibilità e relativizzazione Qual è allora la teoria standard della modalità (d'ora in poi, SM), che è metodologicamente desiderabile avere come sfondo quando si mettono a confronto NI e CI e ci si chiede quindi se CI sia vera o falsa da un punto di vista modale? C'è una risposta largamente condivisa a questa domanda, almeno se si adotta una prospettiva logica sulla modalità, e consiste nel sostenere che la visione standard della modalità è quella condivisa da filosofi quali Kripke, Plantinga, Stalnaker e Williamson. Secondo tale visione standard, gli individui possono esistere in più mondi possibili e c'è quindi identità attraverso i mondi possibili. Secondo SM, gli individui esistono in più mondi possibili. Ci sono molti mondi possibili (sulla cui precisa natura i sostenitori di SM sono spesso in disaccordo), che corrispondono a modi massimali in cui le cose potrebbero stare. Molti mondi possibili sono tali che, ad esempio, Donald Trump non è il presidente degli Stati Uniti, mentre in alcuni altri mondi possibili (incluso il mondo attuale @) Trump è il presidente. In alcuni mondi possibili Trump è alto un metro e 40 centimetri, mentre in altri (incluso @) Trump non è alto un metro e 40 centimetri (in @ Trump è alto 1 metro e 88 centimetri). Trump esiste in tutti questi mondi possibili. Ci saranno poi altri mondi in cui Trump non esiste. Nondimeno, nei mondi in cui esiste, Trump è sempre Trump: in SM c'è quindi identità attraverso questi mondi. L'affermazione che la stessa entità esiste in vari mondi possibili comporta immediatamente che ci sia identità attraverso mondi possibili. Donald Trump – proprio lo stesso individuo, nella relazione di identità con se stesso – esiste in diversi mondi possibili. Dallo specifico punto di vista di (Kripke 1980, tr. it.: 47-48), la tesi che uno stesso individuo esista in più mondi possibili e ci sia quindi identità transmondana discende da una certa immagine della controfattualizzazione: quando ci chiediamo se Humphrey, l'avversario sconfitto da Nixon nelle presidenziali americane del 1968, avrebbe potuto invece vincere tali elezioni, ci stiamo chiedendo se ci sono modi massimali in cui le cose potrebbero stare (mondi possibili) tali che in essi Humphrey, proprio lui, ha vinto le elezioni. Secondo Kripke, la teoria delle controparti di (Lewis 1968) sbaglia a pensare che questa ipotesi controfattuale riguardi invece qualcosa di simile a Humphrey, ovvero una sua controparte. L'ipotesi controfattuale riguarda invece proprio Humphrey, ed è per questo che bisogna ammettere che Humphrey (e in generale le entità su cui facciamo ipotesi controfattuali) esistano in più mondi possibili e ci sia pertanto identità transmondana. La tesi che le entità esistano in più di un mondo possibile incontra un noto problema con il principio di indiscernibilità degli identici. Il principio di indiscernibilità degli identici afferma infatti che entità identiche condividono tutte le loro proprietà: (Indiscernibilità degli Identici) RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 31 Il problema emerge se consideriamo il mondo attuale @, in cui Trump non è un ardente democratico, ed un mondo w1, in cui Trump invece è un ardente democratico. Trump è identico a se stesso. Tuttavia, essere un ardente democratico potrebbe sembrare una proprietà che Trump esemplifica e non esemplifica, contrariamente a quanto sostenuto da (Indiscernibilità degli Identici). In realtà, SM non viola (Indiscernibilità degli Identici) e non porta ad alcuna contraddizione. Questo perché nell'applicazione dell'apparato dei mondi possibili la violazione di (Indiscernibilità degli identici) è evitata da una forma di relativizzazione delle proprietà ai mondi possibili. Trump è alto 1 metro e 88 centimetri in @ e non è alto 1 metro e 40 centimetri in @, mentre è alto 1 metro e 40 centimetri in w1 e non è alto 1 metro e 88 centimetri in w1. In questo modo, Trump (un unico individuo, identico a se stesso) istanzia sia la proprietà di essere 1 metro e 88 centimetri di altezza in @ che la proprietà di essere alto 1 metro e 40 centimetri in w1. Non c'è alcuna singola proprietà che Trump istanzi e non istanzi. Poiché un'analoga relativizzazione è applicata in tutti i casi di questo tipo, si evitano i controesempi a (Indiscernibilità degli Identici). 4. Relazioni mereologiche relativizzate a mondi possibili In che modo SM interagisce con la mereologia? Le relazioni mereologiche devono essere relativizzate a mondi possibili. L'esigenza di tale relativizzazione non è diminuita dal fatto che i predicati mereologici (come quelli che esprimono la relazione di composizione o la relazione di parte) siano relazionali, mentre i predicati "essere alto un metro e 88 centimetri" o "essere un ardente democratico" sono monadici. L'esigenza della relativizzazione riguarda tanto le relazioni quanto le proprietà, anche al di fuori della mereologia. Londra è a nord di Parigi, ma potrebbe essere a sud di Parigi. Ciò significa che nel mondo attuale Londra è a nord di Parigi e non è a sud di Parigi, mentre in altri mondi Londra è a sud di Parigi e non è a nord di Parigi. Non si tratta di un controesempio all'(Indiscernibilità degli identici): le relazioni essere a sud di e essere a nord di sono relativizzate a mondi nel contesto di SM e per ogni mondo ci sarà un diverso insieme di coppie ordinate, che è l'estensione del corrispondente predicato. Lo stesso sembra dover accadere per le relazioni mereologiche. C'è un blocco per appunti davanti a me, sulla mia scrivania. Chiamiamolo b. Ora, si consideri f, il terzo foglio di carta del blocco b. f è stato assemblato (con l'aiuto di una colla) con altri fogli in b. Tuttavia, è contingente che sia stato assemblato proprio in quel blocco: f sarebbe potuto diventare parte di un altro blocco o quaderno, o rimanere inutilizzato. In @ f è parte di b. Al contrario, in altri mondi (diciamo in w1), f non è parte di b: L'esigenza di relativizzazione a mondi riguarda altresì le relazioni di composizione e di essere una fusione di (si veda Lando (2017): capp. 11-12 sul rapporto tra queste due nozioni). Consideriamo la sedia s, che è la fusione dello schienale c, della seduta e e delle gambe g1, g2, g3 e g4. È contingente che la sedia s sia composta proprio da c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4, o – equivalentemente – che la fusione di c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4 sia proprio s. In mondi diversi, s è composta da parti diverse ed e (ad esempio) è parte di altre sedie o diversi pezzi di arredamento. Ciò non rende s (o e) discernibile da se stessa, perché anche la composizione e la fusione devono essere relativizzate ai mondi, come ogni altra RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 32 proprietà o relazione standard. In @ la fusione di c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4 è s. Ci sono però altri mondi (ad esempio w1) in cui la fusione di c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4 non è s. In breve, in SM ciascuna relazione mereologica deve essere relativizzata ai mondi ed il predicato che la esprime avrà estensioni diverse in mondi diversi. Dal punto di vista di SM non c'è insomma ragione di pensare che le relazioni mereologiche siano diverse da relazioni come essere a sud di o essere a nord di. Va osservato che potrebbero esserci ragioni indipendenti per pensare che specifiche entità abbiano invece le stesse parti in tutti i mondi possibili. Ad esempio Kripke stesso, in alcuni controversi passaggi di (Kripke 1980), sostiene una forma di essenzialismo della costituzione materiale per gli artefatti (tr. it.: 108-109; si veda Hughes 2010: 168-178): un tavolo costituito da un certo blocco di legno non potrebbe essere costituito da un blocco di ghiaccio, e nemmeno da un altro blocco di legno. Data questa dottrina specifica di Kripke, la relazione di costituzione per gli artefatti non avrebbe forse bisogno di essere relativizzata a mondi per evitare il conflitto con (Indiscernibilità degli Identici). Tuttavia, la tesi dell'essenzialismo della costituzione materiale non fa parte della concezione standard della modalità che è metodologicamente desiderabile assumere quando ci si chiede se CI è vera o falsa. Si tratta piuttosto di una peculiarità del pensiero di Kripke, il quale peraltro non ha sostenuto tale tesi per tutti tipi di entità e per tutte le relazioni mereologiche. Pertanto, in ciò che segue, non terremo conto dell'essenzialismo della costituzione materiale e ci chiederemo come CI possa essere intesa sotto l'assunzione che in vari mondi possibili una stessa entità abbia parti diverse. 5. Dalla relativizzazione della composizione alla relativizzazione dell'identità Aggiungiamo ora CI a questo quadro. Come abbiamo visto, è metodologicamente desiderabile chiedersi se CI è vera o falsa sullo sfondo di un trattamento standard della modalità e di una concezione standard delle interazioni tra mereologia e modalità. CI concerne una relazione – la relazione di composizione – che, nel contesto di SM e al fine di preservare l'indiscernibilità degli identici, deve essere relativizzata ai mondi. CI riguarda una relazione relativizzata ai mondi e afferma a proposito di questa relazione che essa è una relazione di identità. Il solo modo di rendere CI sensata in questo contesto è supporre che la composizione sia una varietà di identità relativizzata ai mondi possibili. Supponiamo, invece, di voler sostenere che la composizione è una relazione di identità del solito tipo: assoluta, non relativizzata a mondi. Perderemmo di vista la relativizzazione della composizione ai diversi mondi, relativizzazione che si era resa necessaria per preservare l'indiscernbilità degli identici per l'identità standard. La sedia s dell'esempio precedente è in @ la fusione di c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4. Di contro, supponiamo che in w1 g3 non sia parte di s e sia rimpiazzata in w1 da un'altra gamba, g5. Otteniamo quanto segue: RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 33 Ora, supponiamo che, alla luce di CI, sia che siano relazioni di identità assolute e non relativizzate. s sarebbe assolutamente identico sia a c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4 che a c, e, g1, g2, g5 e g4: L'identità è una relazione euclidea (ovvero, date tre cose, se la prima è identica sia alla seconda che alla terza, allora anche la seconda e la terza sono identiche tra loro). Potremmo allora concludere che: Tale conclusione è inaccettabile, perché è incompatibile con la definizione dell'identità plurale, secondo la quale certe entità sono pluralmente identiche a certe altre se e solo se esattamente le stesse entità sono una delle prime e sono una delle seconde: (Definizione di Identità Plurale) g3 è uno di c, e, g1, g2, g3, g4, ma non è uno di c, e, g1, g2, g5, g4. g5 è uno di c, e, g1, g2, g5, g4, ma non è uno di c, e, g1, g2, g3, g4. Quindi, data la (Definizione di Identità Plurale): Una volta che abbiamo relativizzato la composizione a mondi è sbagliato interpretare CI come l'affermazione che la composizione è l'identità standard, assoluta, non relativizzata a mondi. Si potrebbe ovviamente insistere sul fatto che CI è la tesi secondo cui ogni istanza di composizione è un'istanza di identità standard, assoluta, non relativizzata a mondi. Se CI fosse intesa in questo modo, il risultato sarebbe semplicemente che CI – come già mostrato da (Merricks 1999) – sarebbe incompatibile con SM. L'adozione di SM porterebbe quindi a rigettare CI. L'alternativa che suggeriamo per il sostenitore di CI è sostenere che la composizione relativizzata a mondi sia una specie insolita di identità, e in particolare una forma di identità relativizzata a mondi. In tale alternativa, tutte le istanze di una relazione – la composizione – relativizzata a mondi nel contesto di SM sono istanze di un'altra relazione relativizzata a mondi: l'identità relativizzata a mondi. Questo modo di sviluppare CI nel contesto di SM non conduce al problema sopra discusso: e non sono la stessa relazione d'identità, ma due diverse relazioni d'identità, relativizzate a mondi possibili diversi (=@ and =w1), con una diversa estensione. Di conseguenza, la sedia del nostro esempio sarà identica a cose diverse in mondi diversi: Le relazioni relativizzate a mondi =@ and =w1 saranno entrambe euclidee, ma – essendo tali relazioni relativizzate a mondi diversi – non c'è ragione di inferire da questo che c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4 siano identici a c, e, g1, g2, g5, g4, in contrasto con la definizione di identità plurale. L'inferenza è bloccata dalla relativizzazione ai mondi. In ogni mondo, le entità RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 34 sono identiche alle loro parti. Le entità, però, possono avere parti diverse e, di conseguenza, sono identiche a cose diverse in mondi diversi. L'identità relativizzata a mondi, che viene introdotta da questa varietà di CI, non funziona come l'identità standard. Una prima, ovvia differenza tra l'identità relativizzata a mondi e l'identità standard è che la prima è relativizzata a mondi, mentre la seconda non lo è. Una seconda differenza riguarda l'indiscernibilità. Il principio di indiscernibilità degli identici per l'identità relativizzata a mondi potrebbe essere formulato mediante una quantificazione universale sui mondi, senza alcuna restrizione sulle proprietà in gioco: (Indiscernibilità Assoluta di Identici Relativamente a Mondi) Tuttavia, (Indiscernibilità Assoluta di Identici Relativamente a Mondi) è falsa, e la sua falsità segna la differenza fra identità relativizzata a mondi da un lato e identità standard dall'altro. Gli identici relativamente a mondi sono discernibili, in particolare modalmente discernibili. In @ s, la nostra sedia, è la fusione di c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4 . Secondo la varietà di CI che stiamo proponendo, in @ s è identica a c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4 . Può darsi il caso che – come già ipotizzato nella precedente discussione dell'esempio – g3 non sia parte di quella particolare sedia, e che un'altra gamba, g5, prenda il suo posto. Si consideri il mondo w1 dove questo accade. In w1 s è la fusione di s; per contro, s non è la fusione in w1 di c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4 : La proprietà di essere tale che s è la sua fusione in w1 rende s discernibile da c, e, g1, g2, g3 e g4. Possiamo esprimere tale proprietà mediante un λ-astrattore plurale: Tale proprietà è uno tra i molti controesempi a (Indiscernibilità Assoluta di Identici Relativamente a Mondi). Qualsiasi caso di composizione contingente solleverà analoghi controesempi: il tutto sarà discernibile dalle sue parti, nella misura in cui il tutto è la fusione di se stesso in ogni mondo in cui esiste, mentre in alcuni mondi il tutto non è la fusione di quelle parti. L'identità relativizzata a mondi non rispetta quindi un principio assoluto di indiscernibilità e bisogna chiedersi quale forma ristretta di principio di indiscernibilità essa rispetti. Un sostenitore della varietà di CI qui presentata vorrà plausibilmente sostenere che l'identità relativizzata a mondi obbedisce ad un principio che – in contrasto con (Indiscernibilità Assoluta di Identici Relativamente a Mondi) – non affermi che gli identici relativamente a mondi condividono tutte le loro proprietà (incluse quelle proprietà che sono relativizzate ad altri mondi possibili), ma si limiti a sostenere che gli identici relativamente ad un certo mondo condividono le proprietà relativizzate a quel mondo. Tale forma ristretta del principio di indiscernibilità può essere espressa come segue: RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 35 (Indiscernibilità Relativizzata a Mondi di Identici Relativamente a Mondi) Tale principio ristretto di indiscernibilità per gli identici relativamente a mondi sarà vero o meno, a seconda di come vengono risolti altri aspetti del dibattito su CI: gli oppositori di CI diranno che solo l'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo sono – ad esempio – tre in @, mentre il Benelux è uno e non tre in @. I sostenitori di CI risponderanno con un'ingegnosa analisi delle ascrizioni di cardinalità per mostrare che né in questo caso né in altri si incontrano proprietà attuali che rendano un intero discernibile dalle sue parti. Per i nostri scopi, non importa come questi disaccordi siano risolti e se (Indiscernibilità Relativizzata a Mondi di Identici Relativamente a Mondi) sia un principio vero. Ciò che importa è che (Indiscernibilità Relativizzata a Mondi di Identici Relativamente a Mondi) non è il tipo di indiscernibilità assoluta di cui gode l'identità standard. L'identità relativa a mondi (la peculiare nozione di identità che la varietà di CI che stiamo discutendo introduce) è tale che agli identici relativi a un certo mondo è permesso esemplificare e non esemplificare una stessa proprietà, purché essa sia relativizzata a un altro mondo. In ciò che segue denomineremo la varietà di CI, cui siamo arrivati chiedendoci come fosse possibile sostenere CI sullo sfondo di SM, Composizione Contingente come Identità (CCI). CCI può essere formulata come segue: 6. CCI è ad hoc? Ci sono dunque tre caratteristiche principali che distinguono l'identità standard dal tipo di identità relativizzata a mondi che CCI introduce. Da una parte l'identità standard: a1) non è relativizzata a mondi possibili; a2) è tale che ogni sua istanza sussiste necessariamente (NI); a3) è governata da un principio di indiscernibilità non ristretto. Dall'altra, abbiamo il tipo d'identità relativo a mondi che caratterizza CCI. Essa: b1) è relativizzata a mondi possibili; b2) è tale che molte sue istanze sussistono contingentemente; b3) è governata – nella migliore delle ipotesi – da un principio ristretto di indiscernibilità, come (Indiscernibilità Relativizzata a Mondi di Identici Relativamente a Mondi). Queste differenze determinano per CCI sia un vantaggio che un potenziale problema. Il vantaggio consiste nel fatto che CCI conserva la contingenza della composizione, senza essere revisionista sulla necessità dell'identità standard (NI). Questo risultato può essere ottenuto solo distinguendo due varietà di identità, una necessaria e l'altra contingente. Il potenziale problema è che l'identità relativizzata a mondi viene introdotta in un modo che espone CCI al rischio di essere ad hoc. Non c'è motivo di pensare – si potrebbe obiettare – che esista un tipo di identità relativizzata a mondi, al di fuori della specifica esigenza di difendere CI nel contesto di SM, ottenendo così CCI. Dato un mondo, l'estensione dell'identità relativizzata a quel mondo è semplicemente l'estensione della relazione di composizione in quel mondo. Dire che – ad esempio – il rapporto tra il Benelux da una parte e l'Olanda, il Belgio e il Lussemburgo dall'altra è un'istanza di identità relativizzata ad un mondo non è – prosegue l'obiezione – assimilare la composizione ad una relazione già nota e RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 36 indipendentemente caratterizzata. L'oppositore di CCI potrebbe persino insinuare che "identità relativizzata a mondi" sia semplicemente un nuovo nome per la composizione relativizzata a mondi. Per rispondere a questa accusa di essere ad hoc, si può confrontare CCI (e in particolare la nozione di identità contingente alla quale CCI riconduce la composizione) con altre nozioni di identità contingente, introdotte ad esempio da Gibbard (1975) e Gallois (1998). Abbiamo discusso in generale il rapporto tra CI e tali dottrine dell'identità contingente in Carrara & Lando (2018). Qui ci limitiamo ad osservare che, se l'identità contingente postulata da CCI ha altre applicazioni, allora la suddetta accusa di essere ad hoc verso CCI non è fondata. 7. CCI e CI debole È infine interessante collocare CCI nell'ambito del complesso dibattito contemporaneo su CI. Infatti, si distinguono spesso diverse versioni di CI (si vedano (Cotnoir 2014; Sider 2007; Wallace 2011b) per varie classificazioni dei modi in cui CI è stata sostenuta nel dibattito contemporaneo) e va osservato che CCI non è compatibile con la cosiddetta varietà forte di CI, sostenuta, con diverse sfumature, da (Bøhn 2014; Cotnoir 2013) e (Wallace 2011a). Secondo CI forte (si veda ad esempio Bøhn 2014: 143), ogni istanza di composizione è un'istanza di identità standard, quineana, esaustivamente caratterizzata dalla riflessività e dal principio non ristretto di indiscernibilità degli identici. Per contro, la varietà di CI che abbiamo qui abbozzato, CCI – varietà che rappresenta l'unico modo di dare un senso a CI sullo sfondo di SM, senza perdere di vista la relativizzazione delle relazioni mereologiche, relativizzazione che risponde all'esigenza di preservare (Indiscernibilità degli Identici) per l'identità standard – sostiene che la composizione è una varietà di identità che non obbedisce ad un principio non ristretto di indiscernibilità, ma (nella migliore delle ipotesi) a un principio ristretto come (Indiscernibilità Relativizzata a Mondi di Identici Relativamente a Mondi). CCI è dunque incompatibile con CI forte. Ci sembra che CCI possa invece essere assimilata alla cosiddetta versione debole di CI. CI debole è la versione di CI originariamente proposta da Lewis in Parts of Classes (1991: 81-87), ulteriormente elaborata in Sider (2007) e recentemente difesa in Bricker (2015). Secondo la versione di Lewis, ci sono diverse, significative analogie tra la composizione e l'identità, sebbene la composizione non sia strettamente parlando una relazione di identità. Lewis discute in particolare cinque analogie che riguardano – rispettivamente – l'innocenza ontologica, la composizione non ristretta, l'unicità della composizione, la facilità di descrivere un intero se si sono già descritte le sue parti e il fatto che un intero e le sue parti hanno inevitabilmente la stessa collocazione nello spazio-tempo. Ciascuna di queste analogie è controversa per ragioni che non abbiamo qui modo di analizzare (si veda a questo proposito Carrara & Martino 2011). Ci sembra che CCI consenta di aggiungere un'analogia ulteriore e interessante. CCI rende infatti esplicito quale principio di indiscernibilità non assoluto e ristretto potrebbe valere per la composizione, ossia (Indiscernibilità Relativizzata a Mondi di Identici Relativamente a Mondi). Si osservi che (Indiscernibilità Relativizzata a Mondi di Identici Relativamente a Mondi) non è affatto un principio privo di contenuto o poco interessante. È, al contrario, un principio ambizioso, secondo il quale un intero e le sue parti in un certo mondo non sono distinti per alcuna proprietà o relazione relativizzata a quel mondo. Un oppositore di CI insisterebbe senz'altro (a riprova del fatto che non si tratta di un principio banale) sul fatto che (Indiscernibilità Relativizzata a Mondi di Identici Relativamente a Mondi) è RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 37 in effetti un principio falso, ad esempio perché le ascrizioni di cardinalità lo falsificano. Nondimeno, se tutti questi altri aspetti (non specificamente modali) del dibattito su CI fossero risolti a favore di CI, allora si potrebbe difendere (Indiscernibilità Relativizzata a Mondi di Identici Relativamente a Mondi), limitando così alle proprietà modali la discernibilità degli identici relativamente a un mondo. 8. Conclusione Uno schema ricorrente nel dibattito su CI consiste nel concentrarsi su una caratteristica che la composizione dovrebbe possedere per essere una genuina relazione d' identità. Quando questo schema viene applicato a NI è metodologicamente auspicabile adottare SM come sfondo. Dato tale sfondo, CI si trova a dover introdurre una varietà di identità relativizzata ai mondi possibili. Si ottiene così una nuova varietà di CI: CCI. Bibliografia Barcan, R. (1947), «Identity of Individuals in a Strict Functional Calculus of Second Order», in Journal of Symbolic Logic, 12(1), pp. 12-15. Baxter, D. (1988), «Many-One Identity», in Philosophical Papers, 17, pp. 193-216. Bøhn, E. (2009), Composition as Identity: A Study in Ontology and Philosophical Logic, PhD Thesis, University of Massachusetts, Amherst. Bøhn, E. (2014), Unrestricted Composition as Identity, in A. Cotnoir & D. Baxter (eds.), Composition as Identity, Oxford University Press, Oxford, pp. 143-165. Borghini, A. (2005), «Counterpart Theory Vindicated: A Reply to Merricks», in Dialectica, 59(1), pp. 67-73. Bricker, P. (2015), «Composition as a Kind of Identity», in Inquiry, 59(3), pp. 264-294. Carrara, M. & Lando, G. (2017), «Composition and Relative Counting», in Dialectica, 71(4), pp. 489-529. Carrara, M. & Lando, G. (2018), «Contingent Composition as Identity», in Synthese Online First, DOI: 10.1007/s11229-018-01934-8, pp. 1-30. Carrara, M. & Martino, E. (2011), «Four Theses on the Alleged Innocence of Mereology», in Humana.Mente, 4(19), pp. 57-77. Cotnoir, A. (2013), Composition as General Identity, in K. Bennett & D. Zimmerman (eds.), Oxford Studies in Metaphysics 8, Oxford University Press, Oxford, pp. 295-322. Cotnoir, A. (2014), Composition as Identity: Framing the Debate, in A. Cotnoir & D. Baxter (eds.), Composition as Identity, Oxford University Press, Oxford. pp. 3-23. RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 38 Gallois, A. (1998), Occasions of Identity, Clarendon Press, Oxford. Geach, P. (1967), «Identity», in The Review of Metaphysics, 21(1), pp. 3-12. Gibbard, A. (1975), «Contingent Identity», in Journal of Philosophical Logic, 4(2), pp. 187221. Hughes, C. (2010), Identità ed essenze, in A. Borghini, C. Hughes, M. Santambrogio, A. Varzi, Il genio compreso. La filosofia di Saul Kripke, Carocci, Roma, pp. 127-181. Kripke, S. (1963), «Semantical Considerations on Modal Logic», in Acta Philosophical Fennica, 16, pp. 83-94. Kripke, S. (1980), Naming and Necessity, Harvard University Press, Cambridge (Mass.) (Nome e necessità, trad. di M. Santambrogio, Boringhieri, Torino 1982). Lando, G. (2017), Mereology. A Philosophical Introduction, Bloomsbury, London. Lewis, D. (1968), «Counterpart Theory and Quantified Modal Logic», in The Journal of Philosophy, 65(5), pp. 113-126. Lewis, D. (1991), Parts of Classes, Blackwell, Oxford. Merricks, T. (1999), «Composition as Identity, Mereological Essentialism, and Counterpart Theory», in Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 77(2), pp. 192-195. Paul, L. (2002), «Logical Parts», in Noûs, 36(4), pp. 578-596. Plantinga, A. (1974), The Nature of Necessity, Oxford University Press, Oxford. Schlesinger, G. N. (1985), «Spatial, Temporal and Cosmic Parts», in The Southern Journal of Philosophy, 23(2), pp. 255-271. Sider, T. (2007), «Parthood», in The Philosophical Review, 116(1), pp. 51-91. Stalnaker, R. (2003), Ways a World Might Be, Oxford University Press, Oxford. van Inwagen, P. (1994), «Composition as Identity», in Philosophical Perspectives, 8, pp. 207220. Wallace, M. (2011a), «Composition as Identity: Part 2», in Philosophy Compass, 6(11), pp. 817-827. Wallace, M. (2011b), «Composition as Identity: Part 1», in Philosophy Compass, 6(11), pp. 804-816. Wallace, M. (2014), Composition as Identity, Modal Parts, and Mereological Essentialism, in A. Cotnoir & D. Baxter (eds.), Composition as Identity, Oxford University Press, Oxford, pp. 111-129. RIFL/SFL (2018): 26-39 DOI: 10.4396/SFL2019010 __________________________________________________________________________________ 39 Williamson, T. (2013), Modal Logic as Metaphysics, Oxford University Press, Oxford. Yi, B.-U. (1999), «Is Mereology Ontologically Innocent?», in Philosophical Studies, 93(2), pp. 141-160.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Synthese https://doi.org/10.1007/s11229-019-02198-6 A representationalist reading of Kantian intuitions Ayoob Shahmoradi1 Received: 22 March 2018 / Accepted: 1 April 2019 © Springer Nature B.V. 2019 Abstract There are passages in Kant's writings according to which empirical intuitions have to be (a) singular, (b) object-dependent, and (c) immediate. It has also been argued that empirical intuitions (d) are not truth-apt, and (e) need to provide the subject with a proof of the possibility of the cognized object. Having relied on one or another of the a-e constraints, the naïve realist readers of Kant have argued that it is not possible for empirical intuitions to be representations. Instead they have argued for a relationalist reading of empirical intuitions in terms of an acquaintance relation between the subject and the intuited object. For the sake of argument, I will grant the naïve realist reader of Kant that empirical intuitions should satisfy all the (a)–(e) constraints. Nevertheless, by incorporating these constraints, one by one, into a representationalist theory of empirical intuitions, I will show that not only doesn't a naïve realist reading of empirical intuitions follow, but also that the naïve realist has hastily overlooked a range of perfectly representationalist readings of intuitions available to Kant and his representationalist allies. On the positive side, I will argue that there is an extra constraint on intuitions-i.e., that givenness does not require presence to consciousness-that directly goes against any naïve realist account of intuitions. Keywords Kant * Empirical intuitions * Representationalism * Naïve realism 1 Introduction I begin with two preliminaries. The first one (Sect. 2.1) gives a sketch of the contemporary philosophy of perception and where the twomain parties, i.e., representationalists and naïve realists stand. The next, very short, preliminary (Sect. 2.2) settles someKantian terminology that will be crucial for understanding the arguments that will follow. In particular I will discuss Kant's notion of 'empirical intuition'. Section 3 explains why people have taken Kant to be endorsing an object-dependent view of intuitions. B Ayoob Shahmoradi [email protected] 1 University of California, San Diego, USA 123 Author's personal copy Synthese In Sect. 4, I present different versions of representationalism that welcome Kant's object-dependent intuitions. Section 5 shows why not only isn't the immediacy of intuitions a ground against the representationalist reading of intuitions but also how it is happily sheltered under such an account. Section 6 shows how intuitions as representations, whether propositional or not, need not be truth-apt. I will also explain how the unity of a proposition could be obtained independently of the understanding. Section 7 explains how an intuitions as a representation provides a proof of the possibility of the cognized object. Section 8 adds yet another Kantian constraint on intuitions, i.e., that givenness is not sufficient for presence to consciousness. This will turn the table against the naïve realist reading of intuitions which does not seem to be able to allow for an object to be given in an intuition without its being present to the subject's consciousness. Finally, in Sect. 9, I will end with few concluding remarks. I need not emphasize that, in this paper, I am not defending any representationalist view of the nature of empirical intuitions. As a matter of fact, I do not know if any of the standard theories of perception could capture different aspects of Kant's theory of empirical intuitions consistently. Rather, my goal mainly is to show that even if it turns out that Kant is committed to the a-e constraints, contrary to what his naïve realist interpreters have been telling us, that neither forces him to reject a representationalist view of intuitions nor presses him to accept a naïve realist view of intuitions.1 The main thesis of this paper is that some naïve realist readers of Kant have attributed to him certain views on grounds that do not justify such attributions. More specifically, my arguments (i) will disarm the specific attacks against representationalist accounts of intuitions2 (ii) undercut the alleged superiority of the naïve realist reading of intuitions as the only savior of Transcendental Idealism from the perpetual threat of phenomenalism,3 (iii) show that empirical intuitions could not be given a naïve realist account after all, and finally, (iv) provide the representationalist readers of Kant with various ways of modeling empirical intuitions in representational terms which also satisfy the a-e constraints. 2 Two preliminaries 2.1 Contemporary philosophy of perception There is something it is like for one to have a visual experience, say, of a red tomato. I'll call the properties that constitute what it is like for S to have a certain experience e, the phenomenal properties. According to the representationalist accounts of perceptual experience, phenomenal properties (of a subject) are identical to (or supervene on) some (of his) representational properties–i.e., the properties of representing certain contents (in certain ways).4 For the sake of simplicity, I mostly work with a version 1 Allais (2015, 2017), Gomes (2017), Hanna (2001) and McLear (2016, 2017), among others, argue for a naïve realist interpretation of Kant. 2 See, e.g., McLear (2016). 3 See, e.g., Allais (2015). 4 Chalmers (2004). I will not be concerned with how the relevant representational properties have to be characterized, i.e., whether they could be specified merely in terms of certain pure contents, or certain 123 Author's personal copy Synthese of representationalism according to which phenomenal properties are identical with (some) representational properties. However, later on, the distinction between the two versions-i.e., the identity thesis and the supervenience one-will become crucially important. Right now I am having a visual experience of a monitor in front of me. According to the representationalist, my visual phenomenal properties are identical to (some of) my representational properties. However, there seems to be nothing, at least on a common way of characterizing it, that prevents me from representing the same content in the absence of the objects and properties that are being represented as in front of me, i.e., the monitor and its properties. It seems that one could represent a certain content even if things are not as one represents them to be. I could believe that I am Saul Kripke while, as a matter of fact, I am not. In the same way, I could visually represent a pink elephant in front of me while there is no relevant pink elephant there. The representationalist seems to have an easy explanation for what is going on in such cases: one could represent thus and so even when things are not the way they are being represented. So, if the phenomenal properties of a subject are identical to some of his representational properties, and one could represent a certain content in the absence of what is being represented, then one could visually represent, say, a pink elephant, when there is no pink elephant in the relevant place, or anywhere for that matter. Here is a more accurate way of putting this idea: 1. For S to have a certain (visual) phenomenal property is for S to represent a certain content. 2. S could represent any content in the absence of the represented objects and properties. 3. S could have any (visual) phenomenal property in the absence of the objects and properties (that the experience seems to be of). Many people tend to think that it is possible to undergo a non-veridical experience which is phenomenally indistinguishable, for the subject, from a veridical one. Standard representationalists account for phenomenal indistinguishability of such pairs of experiences in terms of the identity of the phenomenal properties involved in the two experiences; some veridical and hallucinatory experiences could be phenomenally indistinguishable because they could be type-identical–i.e., of the same specific type. By being of the same specific type, I mean that they are two tokens of the same specific type of phenomenal experiences. We could type-individuate things such that any two things fall under the same type. However, there is a sense according to which type-individuation is explanatorily salient. In this sense, if two things fall under the same specific type, they will have the same explanatory power. For instance, if two token perceptual experiences have the same explanatory power it is in virtue of being tokens of the same specific type; and if a token belief and a token desire have different explanatory powers it is because they are of different specific types, although they are of the same non-specific types, e.g., mental state, representational state, etc. Footnote 4 continued contents represented in a certain way, etc. So, in the rest of the paper, only in order to make things simpler, I sometimes will drop the quantifier 'some'. 123 Author's personal copy Synthese According to standard representationalism, the best explanation for why a veridical perception of a red tomato and a hallucination as of a red tomato could be phenomenally indistinguishable is because the subjects of these experiences share some phenomenal properties; given that, for the representationalist, phenomenal properties are identical to, and are individuated in terms of, representational properties, the commonality is cashed out in terms of the representational properties that the subjects of the two experiences have in common. Depending on how one specifies the contents that one represents in a veridical perception and a hallucination, one could give a more specific account of what the common factor is. For instance, some representationalists believe that in having a veridical visual experience of a red tomato, one represents the following existential proposition: ∃x(Red(x) &Round(x) ) Further assume that one has an account of the content of a phenomenally indistinguishable hallucination according to which the subject represents the following content: ∃x(Red(x) &Round(x) ) It is not hard to see that the subjects of these two experiences share some of their representational properties. More accurately, there is some representational property–i.e., the property of representing ∃x(Red(x) &Round(x) ) that the two subjects have in common. This will help the representationalist to give an account of why the two experiences could be phenomenally indistinguishable in terms of the phenomenal (and ultimately, the representational) properties that the subjects of these experiences have in common.5 The idea that subjects of indistinguishable veridical and non-veridical experiences share some underlying psychological factor is known as the common-factor thesis. Of course different representationalists might have different views regarding the contents of veridical and non-veridical experiences which may not allow for such an easy treatment of phenomenal indistinguishability in terms of phenomenal identity. I will come back to this issue in Sect. 4. Then one might wonder–given the above characterization of the contents of veridical and hallucinatory experiences–what the difference between having phenomenally indistinguishable veridical and non-veridical experiences is. Well, the representationalist might say, the difference lies outside the phenomenal properties, for instance, in the causal histories of the two experiences; one is appropriately related to a red tomato 5 Note that I am not presenting a full account of phenomenal indistinguishability. Rather, I am giving a sketch of how a representationalist could use the representational properties that the two subjects have in common in her ultimate account of phenomenal indistinguishability. A full account of phenomenal indistinguishability requires me to argue for a specific account of the contents of hallucination. Doing that is beyond the scope of this paper. 123 Author's personal copy Synthese in front of the subject while the other is not related to a relevant red tomato.6 But, such a representationalist argues, this does not need to be reflected in the contents and the phenomenal properties. The naïve realist disagrees.7 She believes that phenomenal properties are constituted by the perceived objects and their properties. When S has a veridical visual experience of a red tomato, S has the experience that she does just because her experience is (partially) constituted by the red tomato, its round shape, its red color, etc.8 Given that the naïve realist type-individuates phenomenal properties in terms of the objects and property instances that one is related to, one could not have the same specific type of experience when there is no red tomato in front of her, or when this tomato is replaced with another one even if the two are qualitatively indistinguishable for the subject. But it seems like I could have a hallucinatory experience that is phenomenally indistinguishable from some veridical experience. How could the naïve realist explain this? Well, he might say, all we can say about phenomenally indistinguishable veridical and hallucinatory experiences is that they are subjectively indistinguishable in the sense that the subject is unable to distinguish the two through mere reflection.9 Or, alternatively, he could give an account of the phenomenal properties in the hallucinatory experiences in terms of some kind of representational content, relation to sense data, modification of the subject's mind, etc. Nevertheless, the naïve realist argues that phenomenal indistinguishability of different experiences could not be accounted for in terms of some shared underlying psychological state. Instead she offers a disjunctive account of the phenomenal properties according to which the phenomenal properties of a subject of an experience as of, say, a red tomato are either constituted by the real tomato and its properties or they only seem to be of a red tomato. The latter disjunct could be given a negative analysis in terms of the inability of the subject to distinguish veridical and hallucinatory experiences through mere reflection (negative disjunctivism), or it could be cashed out in terms of some sort of representational content, relation to sense-data, etc. (positive disjunctivism). So far I have introduced two oppositions in the contemporary philosophy of perception, representationalism versus naïve realism, and the common factor view versus disjunctivism. While the representationalist believes that the phenomenal properties are some sort of representational properties, the naïve realist denies that. And while the common factor theorist thinks that the subjects of phenomenally indistinguishable experiences share some underlying psychological state/property, the disjunctivist denies that there is such an underlying state/property. Most representationalists defend a common-factor view of phenomenology10-while naïve realists are disjunctivists.11 6 Grice (1961). 7 I will use 'naïve realism' and 'relationalism' interchangeably. 8 Campbell (2002), Fish (2009) and Martin (2004). 9 Martin (2006). 10 Tye (1995), Dretske (1995), Chalmers (2004) and Siegel (2010). 11 Travis (2004), Martin (2004), Campbell (2002) and Fish (2009). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese 2.2 Kant's terminology According to Kant, cognition of empirical objects requires two distinct faculties. The faculty of sensibility through which objects are given to the subject, and the faculty of understandingwhich enables the subject to cognize the objects given by the sensibility. The former provides the subject with what Kant calls intuitions and the latter delivers concepts and judgments. Objects are... given to us by means of sensibility, and it alone affords us intuitions; but they are thought through the understanding, and from it arise concepts.12 (A19/B33) Kant's terminology is not exactly the same one that we use in contemporary philosophy literature, let alone recent philosophy of perception. However, some philosophers take Kant's 'empirical intuitions'-i.e., intuitions of empirical objects–to be, more or less, what we refer to as 'perceptions' or 'perceptual experiences'.13 If so, then there are passages in Kant which seem to have a naïve realist flavor. In those passages, Kant seems to be suggesting that empirical intuitions are object-dependent in a very strong sense according to which one could not have an intuition of an object when the object does not exist or is not present. Given what we have said so far, this seems to be naturally inviting a naïve realist interpretation of empirical intuitions. Using 'intuition' and 'perception/perceptual experience' interchangeably is not entirely uncontroversial.14 For Kant, there are delicate distinctions between 'empirical intuition' and 'perception'.15 This will not affect my discussion here since I will only be concerned with 'empirical intuitions' rather than 'perceptions', 'apperceptions', or other kinds of representations that Kant discusses. I will be arguing that, pace naïve realist readers of Kant, there is nothing in Kant's use of the notion of 'empirical intuitions' that makes it impossible for them to be cashed out entirely in representational terms. I will come back to this issue in Sect. 8. 3 Object-dependency of (empirical) intuitions Kant believes that (empirical) objects are given through (empirical) intuitions. There are certain passages in the Critique of Pure Reason and the Prolegomena where Kant seems to be suggesting that intuitions are object-dependent in the sense that it is not possible for a subject to have an intuition of an object in the absence of the object itself. For instance, in A19/B33 Kant says: 12 I will follow the Cambridge Edition of Kant's works (Cambridge: 1999, 2004, 2006). 13 McLear (2016) and Stephenson (2015). I will adopt this terminological convention and move back and forth between using 'intuition' and 'perception/perceptual experience' until §8 when I discuss their differences. 14 For instance, at least according to one interpretation of Kant sensations (and possibly intuitions) are only theoretical terms. See: Sellars (1968). 15 For a discussion of the differences between what Kant means by 'intuition', 'perception'-and other related notions, most notably 'apperception'-see: Tolley (2017). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese [T]hat through which it [ cognition] relates immediately to them [ objects], and at which all thought as a means is directed as an end, is intuition. This, however, takes place only insofar as the object is given to us. [...] Objects are therefore given to us by means of sensibility, and it alone affords us intuitions. (A19/B33) [Intuition] is immediately related to the object and is singular. (A320/B377) One might take these remarks to mean that intuitions are produced by the sensibility alone and that the sensibility requires the presence of an object in order to generate an intuition (of that object). And here is an often cited passage from the Prolegomena: An intuition is a representation of the sort which would depend immediately on the presence of an object. It therefore seems impossible originally to intuit a priori, since then the intuition would have to occur without an object being present, either previously or now, to which it could refer, and so it could not be an intuition. (4: pp. 281–282) Naïve realist interpreters of Kant have argued that the idea of object-dependent intuitions could be captured in terms of the following sufficiency thesis: The Sufficiency Thesis: If S intuits object O at time t, then O exists at t and is suitably related to S.16 If Kant really endorses the Sufficiency Thesis, it might turn out that he could not after all believe that empirical intuitions are representations. The reason is that it seems, at least at first glance, that one could represent any object as being a certain way in the absence of the object that one represents (see Sect. 2.1). So, if intuitions could not occur in the absence of their objects, then maybe intuitions are not representations in the sense used in the contemporary philosophy of perception. There is some textual evidence in Kant's writings that, to some extent, supports the idea that Kant did not endorse the Sufficiency Thesis.17 At any rate, I do not have more evidence of the same sort from Kant's writings to add to those that have already been presented. Hence, I will not be dealing with such issues here. In what follows, however, for the sake of argument, I will grant the naïve realist readers of Kant that he endorsed the Sufficiency Thesis. I will argue, nevertheless, that even if we grant this much, that does not show that empirical intuitions have to be relational. It is still possible to consistently endorse the Sufficiency Thesis and hold that intuitions are representations. Then, in the rest of the paper, I will incorporate, step by step, the rest of the (a)–(e) constraints into a representational theory of empirical intuitions. In the next two sections, I will first present versions of representationalism that satisfy the object-dependency–i.e., the SufficiencyThesis–and the singularity constraints, then I will argue that these forms of representationalism respect the immediacy of intuitions as well. 16 McLear (2017: p. 89). Allais (2015, 2017), Hanna (2001, 2005), McLear (2016) and Watkins and Willaschek (2017) defend similar views. 17 Stephenson (2015, 2017) and Grüne (2017). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese 4 Intuitions as object-dependent representations I am going to argue that it is open to the representationalist to accept the Sufficiency Thesis. Here is how, roughly, such a version of representationalism could be formulated. The representationalist could accept that intuitions are strongly object-dependent or, as I put it above, having an intuition is sufficient for the presence of its object. Here is the resulting picture: in veridical perceptions we have intuitions that are objectdependent. If the object were not present, it would not be possible for the subject to have that intuition. Why would a representationalist endorse such a view? People have defended such a view for, at least, two different reasons. (i) The representationalist could appeal to the object-dependent intuitions to explain the singular nature of veridical perceptions of particulars. There is a red tomato in front of me now. My perception of the tomato seems to be of this specific red tomato, not anyother qualitatively identical tomato; even if, unbeknownst to me, one replaces this tomato with another, qualitatively identical, tomato, there still is a sense in which my perception of the second tomato is different from the first one: they are experiences of numerically different objects (and hence ground different singular thoughts). (ii) If one wishes to ground singular thoughts in perception, a natural way to go is to take perceptual experiences to be object-dependent and singular.When I have two experiences of two numerically distinct but qualitatively identical objects, my experiences ground different singular thoughts just because they are experiences that are constituted by different contents: one has a content that has the first tomato as a constituent and the other has a content with the second tomato as its constituent. That's why my perception of the first tomato could not put me in a position to form a singular thought of the second tomato, though they might be qualitatively indistinguishable for me.18 This form of representationalism could take perceptual contents to be, for instance, Russellian propositions that are constituted by objects, their properties, and relations. When I have a veridical perception of, say, Tomato1, I have that experience because I visually represent the following proposition: ( Red(Tomato1) &Round(Tomato1) ) And when I have a veridical experience of Tomato2, which could be qualitatively identical with Tomato1, I visually represent the following content: ( Red(Tomato2) &Round(Tomato2) ) The two intuitions are constituted by different contents, and since the representationalist individuates intuitions in terms of their contents, they are different intuitions. As you can see, such a content is object-dependent; if I were hallucinating a tomato in front of me, then there would not be an appropriate tomato to be part of the content 18 (i) and (ii) are conceptually independent and one might wish to endorse one without endorsing the other-regardless of how plausible these choices will be. In particular, one might think that Kant only accepts (i) but not (ii), at least explicitly. 123 Author's personal copy Synthese of my intuition; I would only represent a gappy content, where the object-place is not filled with a real object. Alternatively, object-dependent contents could be formulated in terms of de re Fregean modes of presentation. The idea is that it is possible for one to represent the same set of objects and properties in different ways. Therefore, corresponding to a Russellian proposition, there could be different Fregean propositions that constitute the contents of one's experience. Again, being a de remode of presentation guarantees that the Sufficiency Thesis is satisfied.19 In the case of a phenomenally indistinguishable hallucination, however, themode of presentation fails to pick out an appropriate object. Is an object-dependent form of representationalism a plausible view to have? Well, knowing that the devil is in the details, the answer will depend on the details. Objectdependent representationalism could come, at least, in two variants. The less plausible one, I believe, is a form of disjunctivism: if the phenomenal properties are taken to be identical to some sort of representational properties, then one might think that the phenomenal properties of subjects of qualitatively indistinguishable veridical and non-veridical experiences could not be identical. But given that all forms of naïve realism have to embrace disjunctivism, disjunctivist representationalism is, at worst, as plausible as naïve realism in being a disjunctivist view. Note that type-individuating phenomenal properties in terms of representational properties does not necessitate a common-factor view. As far as one has not specified the contents of veridical and nonveridical experiences the choice between disjunctivism and the common-factor view is left open. What matters for my purposes here is that even if one holds that empirical intuitions are object-dependent and singular, and moreover, takes the phenomenal properties of a subject and his representational properties to be identical, one does not necessarily need to give into naïve realism.20 The naïve realist reader of Kant might find this less than satisfactory. Shemight ask: 'Then how is the object-dependent representationalist reading of intuitions, sketched above, different from the naïve realist reading?' Well, there are important differences between the two. One might prefer a disjunctivist representationalism over naïve realism for things that have to do with one's metaphysical commitments. But one might also think that there are good reasons from perceptual psychology to the effect that perceptual experiences have to be representational. For instance, Tyler Burge has argued that having a perceptual experience requires the perceptual system to overcome the underdetermination of the stimuli. Doing this, according to him, is achieved through the constancy mechanisms whose operations require constructing represen19 Evans (1982) and McDowell (1984). Note that I am not suggesting that Evans and others understand 'object-dependency' in the way I have presented it here. (For one, it is not clear that Evans defends an object-dependent view of perceptual content. Moreover, his notion of object-dependency is significantly weaker than the one required by the Sufficiency Thesis. For instance, in what he calls 'recognition-based thoughts', one could have an information-based thought of an object that one has encountered before in the absence of the object as long as one possesses, among other things, a capacity to recognize the object. Having this capacity obviously does not require the presence of the object.) All I am claiming is that, it is open to the representationalist to adopt such a stronger notion of object-dependency. 20 McDowell (2010) has defended a disjunctivist representationalism. However McDowell's disjunctivism might be merely epistemological. For a discussion of whether epistemological disjunctivism could be held independently of metaphysical disjunctivism, see: Soteriou (2016, Ch. 5). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese tations from environmental stimuli.21 One might also favor this view over its naïve realist rivals because one might think that not only does the disjunctivist version of representationalism avoid the myth of the Given, but it also has serious anti-skeptical merits.22 Whether or not this view has such merits, it does not seem to be incoherent. If disjunctivism sounds unattractive for whatever reason–for instance if one thinks that phenomenally indistinguishable experiences have to share some underlying psychological state–and at the same time one is committed to the Sufficiency Thesis, then no worries; a more plausible version of representationalism, in my opinion, is available. The representationalist reader of object-dependent empirical intuitions could be a common-factor representationalist, if she wishes to. Here is one way that this could be achieved: assume that the phenomenal properties of a subject are not identical to, but, only supervene on the representational properties that he has in common in having a veridical experience and its phenomenally indistinguishable hallucination. Such a view is still a common-factor view of phenomenal properties. Given that one, or the main, reasonmost people find naïve realism unattractive is its commitment to disjunctivism about phenomenology, they need not worry because a common-factor, object-dependent, representationalist reading of empirical intuitions is available. According to this view the subject of a veridical perception represents a content which is object-dependent; but phenomenal properties are not object-dependent and supervene on the representational properties that subjects share in a veridical perception and its qualitatively indistinguishable hallucination. This does not mean that the stronger, identity version, of representationalism is not available. The phenomenal properties of the subjects of veridical and non-veridical experiences could be, respectively, identical to their representational properties in the veridical and non-veridical cases. Therefore, the phenomenal properties of the subject of the veridical experience have the elements that they share with the phenomenal properties of the subject of the indistinguishable hallucination. However, only when the experience is veridical the representational properties (and hence the phenomenal properties of the subject) involve singular elements. Still, the two experiences need not be subjectively distinguishable. Nevertheless, subjective indistinguishability does not need to entail that the subjects are phenomenally identical, though they could still share their non-singular phenomenal properties. Here is one way to make sense of such a view. Assume that S veridically represents O as being red and round. According to this view, S represents the following objectdependent content: ( Red(O) &Round(O) ) In a qualitatively indistinguishable (hallucinatory) experience, S might represent the following content: ( Red(O') &Round(O') ) 21 Burge (2010). 22 McDowell (1982, 1986, 2008, 2010). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese According to the identity version of representationalism, the phenomenal properties of the subject of the veridical experience will be identical to his representational properties–i.e., the property of representing (Red(O) & Round(O))–while the phenomenal properties of the subject of the latter experience will be identical to the property of representing (Red(O') & Round(O')). Again, it is intuitively clear that there is some representational property that these two subjects share, i.e., the property of representing λx ( Red(x) &Round(x) ) The common factor theorist could appeal to the shared representational properties of the two subjects to account for the qualitative indistinguishability of the two experiences. After all, phenomenal properties of a subject are identical to her representational properties and the subjects share some of their representational properties and hence some of their phenomenal properties. At the same time there is good reason to believe that phenomenal indistinguishability does not entail phenomenal identity. One could have a series of visual experiences in which each two successive experiences are phenomenally indistinguishable while the non-successive experiences are phenomenally distinguishable.23 In the rest of the paper I will work with these two common-factor versions of representationalism: a supervenience version and a stronger identity version. 5 Intuitions as immediate representations So far this is what we have: a common-factor, object-dependent, representationalist theory of empirical intuitions according to which phenomenal properties (of a subject) are identical to or supervene on (his) representational properties; in the veridical case, the subject represents an object-dependent content, while in the hallucinatory case he represents a content that is object-independent; there are some representational properties that are shared in both cases which constitute the common-factor, in the identity version, or the base of the supervenience, in the supervenience version. Let's see if these two could also satisfy the immediacy constraint. Onemight think that if for S to perceiveO is for S to representO, then S's perception could not be immediate. But one might also think that empirical intuitions are objectdependent and present their objects immediately. Therefore, one might conclude that empirical intuitions could not be representations. P1. Intuitions present their objects immediately. P2. Perceptual representations do not present their objects immediately. C. Therefore, intuitions are different from perceptual representations. I need to make it clear what 'immediacy' means in this context. In what follows, I will present different ways of understanding the immediacy of intuitions. 23 Johnston (2004) and Speaks (2009, 2015). Note that the naïve realist herself has to deny that phenomenal indistinguishability entails phenomenal identity. Therefore, dialectically speaking, she is not in a position to press the common factor theorist to accept such an assumption. 123 Author's personal copy Synthese The constitutive reading of 'immediacy'. One way of understanding the immediacy is in terms of the constitutive conditions of empirical intuitions. Kant could be interpreted as saying that an empirical intuition presents its object immediately only when it is constituted by its object, i.e., the constitution conditions of the intuition involve its object. In this sense: in virtue of tokening intuition, i, S represents its object, O, immediately only if i is constituted by O. I have not specified the notion of 'constitution' here. The desired notion of constitution needs to be such that intuitions that are constituted by their objects will also satisfy the Sufficiency Thesis. There does not seem to be any reason that the notion of constitution in play has to be stronger than that. Nevertheless, I have argued that the Sufficiency Thesis could be satisfied by object-dependent representations. Therefore, if this is the notion of immediacy that Kant is concerned with, then the representationalist could hold that the subject, in virtue of representing object-dependent contents, could represent objects immediately because object-dependent contents are constituted by their objects. Hence, the constitutive reading of 'immediacy' does not show that Kant's empirical intuitions are not representations. The psychological reading of 'immediacy'. Kant might have a psychological reading of 'immediacy' in mind. According to this reading, in virtue of tokening intuition i, S represents O immediately iff S, in virtue of tokening i, represents O but not via representing something else, say, R. So, in the psychological sense of the term, S represents O mediately if S represents O, but only via representing something else, say R, which in turn represents O. In such a case, S's representation of O is mediated by S's representation of R. As I understand representationalism, the claim is that for S to perceptually represent O, is for S to immediately represent O. The representationalist does not (and need not) claim that the perceiver's representation of the perceived object is mediated by his representation of something else. Rather in perceiving O, the subject will be in a position to immediately represent O.24 There is nothing in the notion of representation, as I understand it and as it is used by most representationalists, that prevents it from being immediate in the psychological sense. Representationalists–and non-representationalists, for that matter– do not deny that there are processes going in one's perceptual system that enable one to representO. But those could be only the enabling conditions for representing O. These processes may not be representational in the relevant sense–i.e., they could not be attributed to the subject. Therefore, when S is in a perceptual state that represents O, there is nothing in the notion of representation that makes it impossible for the perceiver to immediately represent the perceived object. The epistemological reading of 'immediacy'. By being 'immediate' onemight think that Kant has an epistemological notion of immediacy in mind. We might formulate this reading in terms of an awareness relation between the subject and the intuited object. According to this reading, 24 See: Dretske (1995) and Tye (1995, 2000). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese in virtue of tokening intuition i, S represents O immediately only if in virtue of tokening i, S becomes directly aware of O. Most representationalists believe that perceptual experience puts the subject in a position to have a direct awareness of the perceived object and its properties, i.e., his awareness of the object is not mediated by his awareness of an intermediary. But if there is no intermediary in this sense, one's awareness of the perceived object and its properties will be direct: it is not the case that the perceiver's awareness of the perceived object depends on, for instance, an inference on the part of the subject or an awareness of an intermediary between the perceiver and the perceived object and properties. Rather, by tokening an appropriate representation, one becomes directly aware of the perceived object and properties.25 However, it is not clear that empirical intuitions play such an epistemological role all by themselves. This does not mean that, for Kant, the subject's awareness of the perceived object has to be indirect or mediated. Rather, it means that having an intuition does not seem to be sufficient for such a direct awareness. I will come back to this issue in Sect. 8. This takes me to another way of understanding 'immediacy' which we may call 'phenomenal immediacy'. One might think that by immediacy of empirical intuitions, Kant means that the phenomenal properties of the subject of an empirical intuition is 'constituted' by the perceived objects and properties in the sense that, for instance, the phenomenal property φ is identical with some property p possessed by the perceived object O. For example, when S has an intuition of O in which O looks redph to S, the property redph is 'one and the same' as the physical redness which is instantiated by O, at least in the veridical case. Lucy Allais and ColinMcLear, among the relationalist readers of Kant, seem to be defending such a view. [T]he qualitative features of perceptual experience are features of the objects perceived (particular instances of properties). (Allais 2015: p. 107) The subject's environment constitutes the contours of her experience in the way, to use one contemporary philosopher's turn of phrase, a hillside constitutes the contours of the landscape of which it is part. (McLear 2016, p. 128) Such a view is not unprecedented among representationalists. Some externalist representationalists seem to be defending a similar view.26 So, representationalists have already provided models of perceptual experience that could incorporate 'phenomenal immediacy'. These forms of representationalism arguably have to be disjunctivist about the phenomenal properties in veridical and non-veridical perceptual experiences. I doubt that such a view could be plausible.27 However, I need not pursue this issue further here. The reason is that I tend to think that by 'immediacy', Kant could not mean 'phenomenal immediacy'. I will come back to this issue in Sect. 8. Depending on how a representationalist characterizes the contents of intuitions, it might be relevant to talk about other kinds of 'immediacy' as well. Here is a possible model of empirical intuitions: empirical intuitions are de remodes of presentations and relate to objects in the world via semantic relations. At first glance, this model makes 25 Harman (1990) and Tye (1995, §5.1). 26 Dretske (1995) and Tye (1995). 27 Chalmers (2004, §2). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese the relation of the subject to the intuited objects and properties mediated by the veil of the Fregean senses. However, this model could satisfy the immediacy constraint, at least, as far as empirical intuitions' relations to their objects could be immediate in the context of Kant's Transcendental Idealism. Here is how: if one takes the de re Fregean senses to be analogues of the 'appearances', and their referents to be analogues of the 'things in themselves', then even in this model intuitions are still immediate in the relevant sense.28 Of course, a Fregean model, with different details, could lead to a picture in which the subject's access to the intuited objects (the appearances) ismediated; for instance, if in the Fregeanmodel of empirical intuitions the Fregean senses are taken to bemediary representations that are the primary objects of awareness which in turn provide the subject's access to the 'appearances' (now understood as the referents of the Fregean senses), then the the Fregean senses are immediately given to the subject, however, the appearances (as the referents of these representations) have been given onlymediately. Now, depending on what are taken to be the analogues of Kant's 'appearances' and 'things in themselves', the relation of empirical intuitions and their objects might turn out to be mediate or immediate in each of these representational models. But, as I have been arguing, I do not see any reason to think that a representational theory of empirical intuitions as such could not accommodate the immediacy of intuitions. 6 Propositional: to be or not to be So far I have argued that a version of representationalism with singular content could satisfy the object-dependency, singularity, and immediacy constraints. But we are not done yet. Kant tells us that intuitions have to meet other conditions as well. In particular, some have argued that Kant seems to be thinking that intuitions are not truth-apt. At A293/B350, Kant says: [I]t is correctly said that the senses do not err; yet not because they always judge correctly, but because they do not judge at all. Hence truth, as much as error, and thus also illusion as leading to the latter, are to be found only in judgments.29 Onemight interpret Kant such that by "the senses do not err", hemeans that "intuitions do not err".30 Let's, for the sake of argument, grant this reading. If so, then Kant rules out the possibility of one kind of error with regard to the senses,-i.e., empirical intuitions-the kind of error that judgments are liable to; intuitions could not be false, since truth and falsity are properties of judgments and intuitions do not involve judgments. Propositional contents, however, seem to have truth conditions. This might sound like a problem for a propositional model of intuitions. There are multiple routes available to the representationalist who wants to accommodate this new constraint. The least revisionary way would be to appeal to the following Cartesian wisdom. In the Fourth Meditation, having already proved the 28 This is the model that is developed and defended by Tolley (forthcoming). 29 Also see: (Anthropology §11 7: p. 146). 30 McLear (2016, §4.1) and Gomes (2017). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese existence of his self and God despite the deceptions of his senses, Descartes embarks on the task of finding out what the sources of error are. He ultimately tells us, and this should not have been news to Kant, that we err not when we do no perceive the truth, rather only when we go on and form judgments. If I simply refrain from making a judgment in cases where I do not perceive the truth with sufficient clarity and distinctness, then it is clear that I am behaving correctly and avoiding error.31 Descartes seems to be suggesting that perceptions that are not clear and distinct still do not yield error unless they are accompanied by acts of endorsement. Building on this insight, one might, quite plausibly, hold that there is a difference between taking the attitude of perceptually experiencing/intuiting towards a content on the one hand, and taking the attitude of judging towards that same content. The attitude of experiencing/intuiting, one might argue, lacks the assertoric force that the attitude of judging possesses and makes it prone to error. After all, the mere possession of propositional content does not entail truth-aptness; just by assigning propositional contents to desires, hopes, etc., one will not be committed to their truth-aptness.32 A furtherworry about assigning propositional contents to empirical intuitionsmight come from the different roles thatKant attaches to the sensibility and the understanding in his account of cognition. For although Kant thinks that the sensibility delivers intuitions, however, [T]he combination (conjunctio) of a manifold in general can never come to us through the senses, and therefore cannot already be contained in the pure form of sensible intuition [...] all combination [...] is an action of the understanding, which we would designate with the general title synthesis.(B129/130) Every form of combination is an act of the understanding. One might also think that propositions require combination, since "such contentmust have a special kind of order relating its elements, and this order can only come about through the cognitive activity of a spontaneous intellect."33 But intuitions are products of the sensibility which is independent from (and prior to) the understanding. Therefore, intuitions could not have propositional contents.34 In response the representationalist could simply adopt a possible world view of propositional content.35 But this is not mandatory. The reason is that it seems to me that this worry is due to a misunderstanding regarding the nature of propositions. It is true that a propositional content has some structure. However, the components of a propositions are not (and could not be) combined in the way that the understanding combines or synthesizes, i.e., by "uniting representations in a consciousness".36 Russellian propositions, for instance, are complex entities composed of worldly objects, 31 Descartes (1641/1996, p. 41). 32 Also see: Siegel (2013) and Travis (2013). 33 McLear (2016, p. 111). 34 See: the 'argument from combination' in McLear (2016, §4.2). 35 Stalnaker (1976). Then the common-factor has to be spelled out in terms of some shared function. 36 Prolegomena (§22 4: p. 304). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese their properties and relations. These do not seem to be the right sorts of things that the understanding could synthesize to form judgments. The unity of a Russellian proposition is not a matter of the understanding having combined its components. On the other hand, even in the case of Fregean propositions whose components are modes of presentations of objects and properties, as long as the idea of nonconceptual content is coherent, their unity could not be a matter of a synthesis by the understanding, unless Kant requires any unity, whether or not it has to do with concepts and representations, to be a matter of a synthesis by the understanding. Fregean modes of presentation are not mental entities. They are rather supposed to be the entities that are being represented. The unity of a proposition is a relation among the entities that are being represented–objects, properties, modes of presentations, etc.–while the combination/synthesis that the understanding is concerned with is a matter of a relation between representations–i.e., in this context, concepts. These are relations among entities from different categories and thus different relations. Nonetheless, even signing up for a propositional content is not mandatory and as a matter of fact, it may not be the most plausible view of content to hold either. For instance, one might argue that perceptual content has to involve a singular element along with an attributive element without being propositional.37 The singular element still guarantees that the (a)–(c) constraints are satisfied while the non-propositional structure satisfies (d), i.e., the non-truth-aptness. This sort of content need not be conceptual either, asmost representationalists agree. The non-conceptual nature of content (and thus intuitions) respects the autonomy of the sensibility from the understanding, if one wishes to be committed to their independence. 7 Proof of the possibility of cognized objects Let's now turn to an argument against the representationalist readings of intuitions that I have developed so far. Colin McLear (2016) has presented three arguments against representationalist theories of intuitions. His first two arguments-what he calls 'the argument from deception' and 'the argument from combination'-if sound, work only against propositional, truth-apt theories of content.We already discussed these in Sect. 6. However, he has a third argument, 'the argument fromModality', which he believes applies to all forms of representationalism, or 'the Content View' as he puts it.38 His argument is based on the following passage from the B Introduction of the Critique, where Kant tells us that: To cognize an object, it is required that I be able to prove its possibility (whether by the testimony of experience from its actuality or a priori through reason). But I can think whatever I like, as long as I do not contradict myself, i.e., as long as my concept is a possible thought, even if I cannot give any assurance whether or not there is a corresponding object somewhere within the sum total of all possibilities. But in order to ascribe objective validity to such a concept (real possibility, for the first sort of possibility was merely logical) something more 37 Burge (2005, 2010). 38 McLear's argument is inspired by some insights taken from Chignell (2011). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese is required. This "more," however, need not be sought in theoretical sources of cognition; it may also lie in practical ones. (Bxxvi-fn) McLear believes that the task of providing a proof of the real possibility of the cognized objects has to be done by the intuitions.39 As I have been arguing above, intuitions could be constituted by singular elements. This will do the task of providing a 'proof of the real possibility of the cognized object'. McLear agrees. Nonetheless, he is not ultimately convinced because he believes that if we do so, "we lose the Content View's neat explanation of illusion and hallucination."40 By this he means that we will no longer have an explanation of the phenomenal indistinguishability of veridical and non-veridical experiences in terms of a common underlying factor. I have been arguing that this need not be the case. The representationalist need not think that the phenomenal properties of a subject are identical to his representational properties. Then, here is a neat explanation of phenomenal indistinguishability for the content view: the phenomenal properties of a subject supervene on the representational properties that are shared by the subjects in a veridical experience and its hallucinatory indistinguishable experience. This could be cashed out in different ways, for instance, via an appropriate λ-abstraction on the singular elements of the object-dependent contents (see Sect. 4). In other words, the contents of these two kinds of experiences could be disjunctive: in the veridical case, the content is constituted by the perceived objects and properties; in the non-veridical case, however, the content is object-independent. But the phenomenal properties of the subjects of the two experience are type-identical because phenomenal properties are invariant between a veridical experience of, say, a red tomato and its indistinguishable hallucinatory experience. So, we still have a common-factor view of phenomenal properties in the context of an object-dependent representational theory of intuitions. Also, as Imentionedbefore, the common-factor theorist neednot think that phenomenally indistinguishable veridical and non-veridical experiences are phenomenally identical. She could argue that although phenomenal indistinguishability indicates that the two subjects share some of their representational (and thus some of their phenomenal) properties, that does not show that the two subjects have to be phenomenally identical. Therefore, the common-factor theorist could still hold the stronger view according to which phenomenal properties of a subject are identical to his representational properties. The opponent might worry that the common-factor delivered by this account is not common-factor enough. She might point out that the common-factor was supposed to provide an account of the indiscernibility of veridical and non-veridical experiences entirely in terms of some shared phenomenal properties, i.e., the identity of the phenomenal properties. However, if subjects of indiscernible experiences could still be phenomenally distinct, then the phenomenal properties shared by the two subjects will not be sufficient as a ground for their indiscernibility. So, one might object that the version of representationalism that we are concerned with has, after all, failed to give a "neat explanation of illusion and hallucination". 39 For a different interpretation of this passage, see: Tolley (2017, fn. 42, 43). 40 McLear (2016). Note that showing that intuitions could not be given a common-factor representationalist account is significantly weaker than showing that intuitions are not representations. 123 Author's personal copy Synthese It is true that this version of representationalism could not give an account of the indiscernibility of veridical and non-veridical experiences entirely in terms of the shared phenomenal properties. So, if one chooses to call the view that two phenomenally indiscernible experiences are phenomenally identical, and only this view, a 'common-factor' view, then the identity version of representationalism presented above is not a common-factor view. However, that is a verbal issue. Nevertheless, there is a philosophically interesting issue of whether phenomenally indiscernible experiences share all or part of their phenomenal natures or whether they must be given only a disjunctive account. The representationalist in question is in a position to accept that phenomenal indistinguishability could partially be a matter of the subjects of the two experiences having some of their phenomenal properties in common. At the same time it is plausible, on independent grounds, that to require that the subject be in a position to distinguish all changes in his representational or phenomenal properties is too demanding.41 8 Givenness without presence So far my project has been that of showing that the naïve realist front has not given us a reason for why intuitions have to be relational and not mere representations. Now, let's turn the table.Not only have not they presented any argument against a representational account of intuitions, but, quite contrary, there is good reason to adopt such a view and reject a relationalist account of intuitions. In this section I will present such an argument based on another Kantian constraint on intuitions, i.e., that givenness does not require presence to consciousness. In a section of Anthropology from a Pragmatic Point of View, entitled 'On the representations that we have without being conscious of them', Kant says The field of sensuous intuitions and sensations of which we are not conscious, even though we can undoubtedly conclude that we have them; that is, obscure representations in the human being (and thus also in animals), is immense. (Anthropology, 7:135) This passage seems to suggest that sensible intuition is not necessarily conscious, it could be had unconsciously aswell. Kant seems to be thinking that one can consciously represent an object in intuition as a whole without being in a position to consciously represent its parts. For instance, I could see a man who is far away without seeing his eyes, or nose, etc. In such a case, Kant does not want to say that I do not represent the parts-e.g., eyes, nose, etc.-in my manifold of intuition, because: If I wanted to maintain that I do not at all have the representation of him in my intuition because I am not conscious of perceiving these parts of his head (and so also the remaining parts of this human being), then I would also not be able to say that I see a human being. (Anthropology, 7:135) 41 See Williamson's discussion of anti-luminosity in Williamson (2002, Ch. 4). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese Instead, Kant goes on to suggest that: "[t]he field of sensuous intuitions and sensations of which we are not conscious [...] is immense." Here is how I understand these passages; Kant seems to be suggesting that to have an intuition of an object as a whole, one has to have intuitions of the object's parts. But there are case in which one does not seem to represents some parts of an object in the manifold of intuitions, despite representing the object as a whole. This does not seem to be right, given that Kant believes that the representation of a whole in intuition in the absence of the representations of its parts is not possible. Kant's way out of this conundrum is that the correct description of the situation in which one represents an object as a whole in the manifold of intuitions but does not seem to represent its part is the following: while the subject is consciously representing the whole object in intuition, she is only unconsciously representing its parts in intuition.42 We need to make room for unconscious representation of the manifold of intuitions in our representational picture of intuitions. In order to bring unconscious intuitions under a representational account of intuitions I need to adjust the base of the supervenience relation and revise the identity claim; the phenomenal properties of a subject could not simply supervene on (or be identical to) his representational properties; one could represent a certain content consciously or unconsciously. Rather, in the updated version, phenomenal properties have to supervene on (or be identical to) the property of representing a certain content that meets certain other conditions such that the intuited contents plus those conditions fix the phenomenal properties of the subject. The additional conditions need to be filled out with those that Kant believes, when added to an intuition, the resulting state will necessarily be conscious, whatever they might be. These could involve, for instance, availability to the higher cognitive systems, having a specific kind of content, etc.43 The naïve realist reader of Kant needs to tell us how it is possible for empirical intuitions to be relational and be conscious or unconscious. While the representationalist could adjust his view such that it allows for both conscious and unconscious intuitions, it is not clear that the naïve realist has enough resources to do the same.44 Relationalism is usually presented as a theory of perceptual 'experience', i.e., conscious perception. Relationalists think that the nature of perceptual experience is exhausted in terms of an 'acquaintance relation' between the subject and the perceived object and its properties. The relationalist reader of Kant thinks that this gives an accurate account of the nature of 'empirical intuitions'. Therefore, on this account, for S to have an empirical intuition of O is for S to be acquainted with O.45 42 For a defense of 'unconscious intuitions', see: Tolley (2017). 43 Tye (1995: §5.2). 44 Stephenson (2017, 106), citing the discussed passage from the Anthropology, mentions that "One apparent problem for the relational view, which ties intuitions essentially to consciousness, is that Kant sometimes seems to allow for unconscious intuitions... The representational view can accommodate this more easily than the relational view". 123 Author's personal copy Synthese At the same time, relationalists, following Russell, understand the notion of 'acquaintance' such that for S to be acquainted with O is for O to be presented to S's consciousness.46 The notion of acquaintance was cashed out in terms of the subject's perceptual experience being partially constituted by her environment. It is in virtue of this constitutive relationship that perceptual experience can fulfil its role in giving objects to consciousness.47 (McLear 2016) (Note that McLear uses 'perceptual experience' and 'empirical intuition' interchangeably). According to the relationalist reader of Kant, for S to have an intuition of O is for S to be acquainted withO and acquaintance withO is sufficient forO to be present to S's consciousness. If the acquaintance relation is sufficient for the intuition to be conscious, then given that having an intuition of O is to be acquainted with O, this account does not seem to allow for unconscious intuitions. What the naïve realist needs to do is to replace the 'acquaintance relation' with another relation R such that it satisfies all the constraints on empirical intuitions; moreover, from 'S is R-related to O' it does not follow that O is present to S's consciousness. This does not seem to be a trivial task. At least it is not very clear how a relation R could satisfy all these roles and obtain consciously and unconsciously. The naïve realist might argue that in the passages that Kant discusses unconscious intuitions, by 'unconscious' he refers to lack of some sort of higher-order thought rather than a basic acquaintance. So, by allowing for the possibility of unconscious intuitions, Kant allows that the intuiting subject could lack higher-order thoughts about the intuited objects. But acquaintance does not require higher-order thoughts. This sounds like a plausible view to me. But I believe, at the end of the day, it does not help the acquaintance view of empirical intuitions. The reason is that in the passages thatKant talks about unconscious intuitions he does not seem to be discussing a defect in the subject that denies him the ability to form higher-order thoughts. Kant does not seem to be suggesting that the subject lacks the ability to form thoughts or lacks the requisite conceptual resources. Rather, what prevents the subject from having higher-order thoughts seems to be exactly what acquaintance would provide, namely a basic personal-level cognitive access to the intuited object. It is not clear how one could be acquainted with an object but lack the right kind of cognitive access that, provided that one has the requisite concepts and the ability to form higher-order thoughts, would afford one higher-order thoughts. Onemight dispute the details of the example presented byKant ormyunderstanding of the case. However, the details of this case are dispensable. We can run the same argument against the acquaintance view of intuitions without relying on the specifics of this case. Kant seems to be relying on a general principle regarding the relation between an intuition of an object and intuitions of its parts. Immediately after the passage quoted before, Kant goes on to say: 45 See: Allais (2017: p. 32), Allais (2015: pp. 11, 147, 148, 155), McLear (2016, §5). 46 Russell (1910). Also see: Allais (2015, pp. 11, 159, 302–303), McLear (2016). 47 "I argue that Kantian intuitions are representations that give us acquaintance with objects, and that since he thinks cognition requires intuition, he thinks our cognition is limited to that with which we can have acquaintance: what can be presented to us in a conscious experience". (Allais (2015: p. 11). My emphasis). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese [I]f I wanted to maintain that I do not have the representation of him in my intuition because I am not conscious of perceiving these parts of his head (and so also the remaining parts of this human being), then I would also not be able to say that I see a human being, since the representation of the whole (of the head or of the human being) is composed of these partial ideas. (Anthropology, 7:135. My emphasis.) This seems to suggest that Kant is committed to the following principle: (I) if S intuits O, then S intuits O's parts. But it is also plausible that it is possible for S to see an object O without seeing (some of) its parts. And, from that and (I) it follows that it is possible for S to have an intuition of something without seeing it. At the same time, not seeing the object's parts (quite plausibly) need not be due to a deficiency on the part of the intuiting subject, or his not attending to the object parts. After all, we could always have a normal subject attend to a man far away without him being able to see the man's eyes, or nose, etc. Given the arguments of this section, there is good reason to believe that Kant is committed to the view that having an intuition of O is not sufficient for the subject to be acquainted with O. In other words, O could be given in an intuition i without its being present to one's consciousness even if, according to the Sufficiency Thesis, having i requires the presence of O. 9 Conclusion I have argued that even if Kant thinks of empirical intuitions as (a) singular, (b) object-dependent, and (c) immediate 'presentations' which (d) are not truth-apt, and (e) provide the subject with a proof of the possibility of the cognized object, empirical intuitions could still be representations. Of course, (i) it is not clear that the representationalist reader ofKant needs to satisfy all the a-e constraints; I granted the naïve realist the a-e constraints only to show that those constraints do not rule out all representationalist readings of empirical intuitions; moreover, (ii) the passages that are appealed to in support of the a-e constraints have other less-hostile-to-the-representationalist readings as well. Nevertheless, by now it should be clear that the naïve realist readers of Kant have not given us any reason for why empirical intuitions could not be mere representations. Moreover, the preached virtue of a naïve realist account of empirical intuitions, i.e., saving Transcendental Idealism from falling into the abyss of phenomenalism, could perfectly be obtained by the representationalist. At the same time there are other constraints on the nature of empirical intuitions that may not be treated so well under naïve realist assumptions. In particular, Kant seems to allow for the manifold of intuitions to be represented either consciously or unconsciously. Satisfying this constraint requires an appropriate relation R that could satisfy the a-e conditions and is such that one could be R-related to O either consciously or unconsciously. However, I have not shown that Kant is committed to a representationalist view of intuitions. One might ultimately find some passages that rule out the possibility of any representationalist view of empirical intuitions; or, at 123 Author's personal copy Synthese the end of the day, it could turn out that "there is no systematically presented 'theory of perception' in our contemporary sense in the Critique, which suggests that there is a clear sense in which it is problematic to argue either that Kant did or did not hold one of these theories."48 Having said all that, I believe that some of the constraints in the a-e list should be rejected. Specifically, I believe that the strong object-dependency of intuitions captured in terms of the Sufficiency Thesis is not, philosophically speaking, a very plausible view to hold; imposing such a constraint on the nature of empirical intuitions fatally damages the explanatory power of intuitions elsewhere in Kant's account of empirical cognitions.49 Acknowledgements This paper has benefited from comments by (and/or discussions with) Lucy Allais, Jonathan Cohen, Matthew Fulkerson, Farid Masrour, Clinton Tolley, Brian Tracz, and Eric Watkins. I am especially grateful to Jonathan Cohen, Clinton Tolley, and an anonymous referee for multiple rounds of detailed comments. References Allais, L. (2015).Manifest reality: Kant's idealism and his realism. Oxford: OUP Oxford. Allais, L. (2017). Synthesis and binding. In Andrew Stephenson & Anil Gomes (Eds.), Kant and the philosophy of mind (pp. 25–45). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Burge, T. (2005). Disjunctivism and perceptual psychology. Philosophical Topics, 33(1), 1–78. Burge, T. (2010). Origins of objectivity. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Campbell, J. (2002). Reference and consciousness. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Chalmers, D. J. (2004). The representational character of experience. In B. Leiter (Ed.), The future for philosophy (pp. 153–181). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Chignell, A. (2011). Real repugnance and our ignorance of things-in-themselves: A Lockean problem in Kant and Hegel. Internationales Jahrbuch des Deutschen Idealismus, 7, 135–159. Descartes, R. (1641/1996). René Descartes: Meditations on first philosophy: With selections from the objections and replies. Cambridge University Press. Dretske, F. (1995). Naturalizing the mind. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Evans, G. (1982). The varieties of reference. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Fish, W. (2009). Perception, hallucination, and illusion. New York: Oxford University Press. Gomes, A. (2017). Naïve realism in Kantian phrase. Mind, 126(502), 529–578. Grice, H. P. (1961). The causal theory of perception. Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 35, 121–153. Grüne, S. (2017). Are Kantian intuitions object-dependent? In Andrew Stephenson & Anil Gomes (Eds.), Kant and the philosophy of mind (pp. 67–85). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hanna, R. (2001). Kant and the foundations of analytic philosophy. Oxford: OUP. Hanna, R. (2005). Kant and non-conceptual content. European Journal of Philosophy, 13(2), 247–290. Harman, G. (1990). The intrinsic quality of experience. Philosophical Perspectives, 4, 31–35. Johnston, M. (2004). The obscure object of hallucination. Philosophical Studies, 103, 113–183. Kant, I. (1999). Critique of pure reason. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kant, I. (2004). Prolegomena to any future metaphysics: That will be able to come forward as science. With selections from the critique of pure reason. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kant, I. (2006). Anthropology from a pragmatic point of view. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Martin, M. G. F. (2004). The limits of self-awareness. Philosophical Studies, 120, 37–89. Martin, M. G. F. (2006). On being alienated. In T. S. Gendler & J. Hawthorne (Eds.), Perceptual experience (pp. 354–410). Oxford: Oxford University Press. McDowell, J. (1982). Criteria, defeasibility and knowledge. Proceedings of the British Academy, 68, 455–479. 48 Allais (2015, p. 105). 49 Shahmoradi (draft). 123 Author's personal copy Synthese McDowell, J. (1984). De re senses. The Philosophical Quarterly, 34(136), 283–294. McDowell, J. (1986). Singular thought and the extent of inner space. In P. Pettit & J. McDowell (Eds.), Subject, thought and context (pp. 137–168). Oxford: Clarendon Press. McDowell, J. (2008). The disjunctive conception of experience as material for a transcendental argument. In Fiona Macpherson & Adrian Haddock (Eds.), Disjunctivism: Perception, action, knowledge (pp. 376–389). Oxford: Oxford University Press. McDowell, J. (2010). Tyler Burge on disjunctivism. Philosophical Explorations, 13(3), 243–255. McLear, C. (2016). Kant on perceptual content.Mind, 125(497), 95–144. McLear, C. (2017). Intuition and presence. In Andrew Stephenson & Anil Gomes (Eds.), Kant and the philosophy of mind (pp. 86–103). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Russell, B. (1910). Knowledge by acquaintance and knowledge by description. Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 11, 108–128. Sellars, W. (1968). Science and metaphysics: Variations on Kantian themes. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Shahmoradi, A. (draft). Object-dependency of Intuitions vs. intuition-dependency of cognitions. Siegel, S. (2010). The contents of visual experience. New York: Oxford University Press. Siegel, S. (2013). Replies to Campbell, Prinz, and Travis. Philosophical Studies, 163(3), 847–865. Soteriou, M. (2016). Disjunctivism. London: Routledge. Speaks, J. (2009). Transparency, intentionalism, and the nature of perceptual content. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 79(3), 539–573. Speaks, J. (2015). The phenomenal and the representational. Oxford: OUP Oxford. Stalnaker, R. C. (1976). Possible worlds. Noûs, 10, 65–75. Stephenson, A. (2015). Kant on the object-dependence of intuition and hallucination. The Philosophical Quarterly, 65(260), 486–508. Stephenson, A. (2017). Imagination and inner intuition. In A. Gomes & A. Stephenson (Eds.), Kant and the philosophy of mind: Perception, reason, and the self (pp. 104–123). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Tolley, C. (2017). Kant on the place of cognition in the progression of our representations. Synthese. https:// doi.org/10.1007/s11229-017-1625-3. Tolley, C. (forthcoming). Kant's appearances as object-dependent senses. In N. Stang & K. Schafer (Eds.), On the sensible and intelligible worlds. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Travis, C. (2004). The silence of the senses. Mind, 113(449), 57–94. Travis, C. (2013). Susanna Siegel, the contents of visual experience.Philosophical Studies, 163(3), 837–846. Tye, M. (1995). Ten problems of consciousness: A representational theory of the phenomenal mind. Cambridge: MIT Press. Watkins, E., & Willaschek, M. (2017). Kant's account of cognition. Journal of the History of Philosophy, 55(1), 83–112. Williamson, T. (2002). Knowledge and its limits. Oxford University Press. Publisher's Note Springer Nature remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. 123 Author's personal copy
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
QIKJS-Part.II.J Qualitative Inquiry of Korean Judicial System Kiyoung Kim Professor of Law and Public Policy Dept. of Law, Chosun University Gawng-ju South Korea Predictions, New Findings and Research Process Introduction Things could be, "The sweetest honey could even be loathsome in its own deliciousness. And in its taste confounds the appetite," as Shakespeare in satire. The research process might be such as the kind. In my experience, the merging ideas and daily progress over the data collection or analysis sometimes would affect the researcher with the kind of glory, but cast a doubt if it would be relevant or duly rigorous. The predictions based on the themes and patterns could be the kind of unanticipated result that the research might lose its appetite, yet to be responsible to tell the story with emerging ideas, new field evidence, as well as with more appealing or appropriate concept and work of theories relating with the practice of constant contrast or rethought of researcher. Neo-liberalism and Shift in Themes or Patterns As the field data told, the neo-liberalization and leadership had been a good lens of analysis that explain the agenda setting, policy process and actions or interactions of policy players in shaping the PAKJS. It is a powerful idea and even compared with the anxiety of Europeans as German Nazism, which flowered around the 1980's with significant events or time lag across the states, through the present no matter what the precise source of origin would be argued of. It could merely be noted with some conspicuous symptom or roared as a salvation policy dose against the crippled capitalism by the political leadership. The narratives on this theme had actually pervaded the popular media in the western and global states, at least intellectually including Korea. It also was brought with a colloquial understanding as globalization to provide an important discourse framework in understanding the social phenomenon and transformation (Springer, 2016). There would we are skinny of the immanence of neo-liberalism, the kind of edifice needed of more elaboration. The discursive power relations would be essentially intertwined with the prevailing interest holders as a specter of capital, if small in share or the 2 kind of conglomerates. On the other, the government often would be viewed as an administrator, who should be neutral and fair. Although the extent of government would be viewed differently among the Keynsians or Thatcherians, the neutrality and fairness perhaps may have been inviolable almost always from theory and practice as well as over history. Simply the government depends on the social and economic environment, and importantly had many causes to be a guarantor or promoter of capital needless to borrow the Marxist assertions. Around the period, the data and critical reading of field sources and documentation corroborate that the discursive power relations turned on the matrix of power, in which the neoliberalization had defined community in somewhat all-encompassing way, meaning a privation for the many and privileges for the few (2016). While the policy process would be specifically disclosed with a circuit association or relational assemblage, certain and unavoidable materiality to understandings of power could also be connoted at the fore of political and intellectual circle of Korea. In understanding the neo-liberalism, we may not be incorrect to see that scholars had worked on three attributes of thought, say, Foucault and Marx or British way of experientialism and historical realism. In the first consideration, we may view with an emphasis concerning the form of governmentality. In the Marxian circle, the neo-liberalism would be most manifest and updated form to foreground the capitalistic relations among the state and capital. It should certainly be a hegemonic ideology in this standpoint of view. A third attitude of philosophical thought could be the realism or neo-realism, whose strong groove would resonate with the geographical discourse. For such attitude of understanding, the two thoughts would be a false and merely the kind of imaginative geography that would erase the interconnectedness of places, but with the constellations of experience, such as violence, delusion, disillusion and denial, say, the kind of anxiety revived from the atrocities of Nazi, Fascist Italy and the Soviet Union, for example (2016). In this view, we see the hybridized and mutated forms of neoliberal society as it travels around the world. According to this way of approach, the assumed inevitability and all-encompassing bull-dozer effect would lead to anarchism or just little more than necessary illusion, in which conceptualizing neo-liberalism as inevitable or as a paradigmatic construct are untenable (2016). The thoughts combined to influence my visitation of policy process and leadership proposition as I have found as patterns and themes based on the data collection tools. It could allow me to avoid staving off the prospect and explanations as well as obfuscating the reality of the festering stratification or rising inequality within the community of Korean lawyers. Of course, the kind of violence or intensity of class consciousness would be less than immanent within it for reasons. The interest holders generally are characteristic with tradition of profession since early age of Rome, most ancient forms of occupation as compared with a priest or disciples. They are expected to act on professional knowledge and conscience or based on the law and public cause, which is prone to be less susceptible of pure economic discourse. As we had been lent, the meta-capital or habitus can be more a proper concept to explore and explain their behaviors and policy preferences. Despite this general traction over history, the collected data could support the idea that neo-realism or 3 radical thinking of geographies on the phenomenon itself reveals the kind of protean notions of hybridity and articulation with the existing political economies or the prevailing policy drive within the third period (2016).1 The filed data and findings on the heuristics also inculcate to question if constructing the neo-liberalism as the sole providence of non-violence or the lone bearer of reason would be adequate or must be recast by recognizing it as always co-constituted by, mediated through, and integrated within the wider experience of space. Therefore, this way of thinking can allow the salient ways for the critical scholars, who wish to highlight it as some of hegemonic ideology or a particular logic of governmentality, as well as the policy based approach to state reform. In turning on the field data and neo-liberalism beyond the political leadership or PET theory, my prediction with the themes and patterns could differ or develop beyond the structuring and characterization of basic policy on PAKJS (Kim, 2015a,b,c,d). My prediction would be a pass to imagine a whole or to test the data collection tools, in which the researcher likely has to struggle with the kind of assistance from mid-wifery. The field itself would be an aid and more directly plausible theory or account would help to succeed (Hoover & Donovan, 2003). While the leadership had yielded a profound impact on the PAKJS, the predictions embraced with the neo-liberalization and globalization generally support so that it could end or all encompassing controversies could turn normalized. This could partly has an explanatory power, but the truth also shares that it has the Zombiotic character endlessly questioned over the PAKJS (Springer, 2016). For example, the statistic had appeared in a recent news corner that one British law firm had reaped an enormous amount of net income outrivaling the national law firms tremendously per-capita lawyerly income. As said, income disparity within the profession had festered. In the meantime, the newspaper reported that some lawyers made public ads available or even focused to provide the brokerage service of realty.2 Given the policy makers are accountable 1 In Korea, the public protest as associated the radical labor unions would be observed in seemingly regular terms or interval beginning with the third period, and the compass of impact or extent of violence would be serious over events as reported within the public media nationally and globally. The interest holders of profession, say, private attorneys, prosecution officers, court judges, law professors, and lawyers of civil movement had generally been out of the scope of national labor policy that they could be seen an intact cultural group in this meaning. Their stories of previous periods would be the kind of stereotype that involves with the lawyers of great public cause, to say, judicial independence from the political influence. Now in the third period, the stories had concerned disaffected judicial people for their festering stratification or income disparity, specialization for the competitiveness and lawyerly service, government-supported public counsel system, firmtype professional organization, and new dominance of capitalism discourse on the ethics of bureaucracy under the grown attention and extended coverage with frequencies by the public media. In some cases, the kind of public protest was not absent. The failing people of new law school project shaved their head bald in the public space who contested the decision of government. Sometimes, the sad story of professionals entertained the public if some lawyers had defrauded others or ran away for his marginal income and under the pressure of debt. A suicide would not be the other's story as if several medical doctors at the urban core committed it for the economic reason. 2 The statutory competence or responsibility had been a concern with the adjacent professionals, such as the 4 for policy effect on the addressees or interest holders, a journey with the possibility or thought frame of new materialism in sociology could lend the tool of analysis through the heuristics and hermeneutics process of understanding (Miles, Huberman, Saldana, 2013). While the capitalism became dense and deeper, one important yardstick deeply within the belief system of people had been the colossal victory of per capita income by the liberal countries over the communist nations. This argument had been paired with the increasing thickness of middle class income earners within the society as the bulwark to defend the superiority of capitalism. The context also had to be complemented with the constant monitor or engagement with the issues of income disparity, poverty and homelessness or immigration. This pattern of approach by the public leadership had been common internationally and, of course, in Korea. Given the scale and nature of community in this field, the sociological data would allow knocking at it something likened between the quantitative and qualitative debate in methodological terms. It would especially be needed provided that their accurate economic data would be biased or hidden in some cases. It also would be implicating if the Korean lawyers are an advanced group in terms of knowledge and public leadership, which likely affect them more than the common economic class that could bring a despair, delusion, and disillusion. Their rising challenge with new professional environment and market could be sociologically imaginative as Mills stressed with the writers engaging with the work of scientific vindication dealing with the phenomenon and societal transformation. This ways of scientific thinking could also be compared with the analytical adherence as Hayek or his thought group (Davies, 2016). While in fundament with the liberal market, this group had theorized on the importance and process of interactive dialogue as well as collaborative ethos between the jurisdiction and society. The society and mass public had to be informed by the elite power under advanced neo-liberalism, who would licensed realtor or licensed patent examiner and tax counselor. The latter two licenses were statutorily granted to the lawyer without the public exam or additional process of licensing. The controversies are entwined with various policy implications, such as specialization of profession, intensity of knowledge economy testable with the terms of market competitiveness, increasing role of state and public laws to regulate the market, public standard of morals or ethics, professional standard of ethics and on. For example, the state notes that the deregulation for the common businesses or capital would be necessary to boost the market economy. On the while, the regulatory or discriminatory policy frame dealing with the meta-capital or traditional fields of stateshielded licensed professionals would not be such theoretical, rather to be seen more prone of increasing details and specialization. The intensified deals of this kind paradoxically would turn generous in other creative fields of knowledge economy as daily featured with the scene of current leadership implying the importance of new products and creativity to ameliorate the market impasse. The legal service market actually had challenges on the basis of field data about the news frequencies and in-depth interviewees with significant informants. One interviewee said with no bluffs, "now some lawyers had to seek to remedy the financial crisis of his firm with the brokerage service of marriage..." He also added, "it could make a public good by improving on the low marriage or birth rate, which certainly would be an important element of capitalist economy." Other interviewee sadly confessed, "Now the right of reproductive choice is just an academic word as past. As a firm-employed female attorney, we have to work thorough the days of weekend in many occasions. I fear if I could benefit from the labor laws on maternity leave. At least with my case, the OCED statistics to rank Korea as a most hard labor country in terms of labor time is felt really true and not of others." 5 translate its continuity through the economy, society and various policy fields. While the thought of new materialism in sociology would less be dealt in Korea, the second version, with respect to embed the neo-liberalism within the Korean community, had been prevalent that affected the academicians in Korea around the third period. New Materialism in Sociology and Moderation As developed with Durkheim's, Patterson argued that a three part analytic framework could explain the social reality more properly dealing with the contemporary materialism in view of sociology, to say, objective social structures, subjective human minds or consciousness and inter-subjective culture (2016). The first dimension comprises the empirically observable interactions between people and physical objects. The second dimension would be governed by thoughts, feelings, and perceptions of individual. The third dimension interacts with the abstract symbols and attached meanings (2016). In this line of thought, Durkheim, for example, ultimately gave causal priority to social structure, who perceived the shift from mechanical to organic society had to be received for a plausible understanding of human and society. In his time, this shift may be contextualized as a counter-thesis with the intensifying capitalism or remained religious and feudal custom. His insight on the frequencies and interactions accompanying the population growth sparked the sociological thinking as illustrated in his book title, "the division of labor in the society." One interviewee as corroborated with the news column had offered the mood of profession, "Actually the new graduates of law school have increasingly frequented within the law firms or public offices of judicial nature...This new population is still a minority so that some managing partner once had been biased against them and preferred to employ new lawyers of National Judicial Exam...A despair or delusion with failed his job application should be aching...." As we see, the discourse between the "structure" and "culture" had long been the thought frame to glorify, but often frustrated the sociologists as unsatisfied and from such uncomfortable dichotomies. We generally agree that culture, in nature, would be most contested and ontologically-confused within the tripartite dimension as we discussed through the dominance of political culture within the particulars of modern Korean peninsular (2016). Beyond the lethal chills of freedom of political contest and possibly inner disagreement of intellectuals about the general system of Korea, the PAKJS would at least be the kind of debris that had been impacted by the larger and determinative factor of biased democracy itself. Another interviewee offered some thread to know the situation, "Lawyers around the first and second period are really a privileged few, who reaped a tremendous income at one large realty case, a lump sum money as a contingent fee...the contingent fee would make an earned litigation object to be repartitioned for the attorney share...." The culture pervaded within the professional community would more likely be the feudal context of exploitation because of a small production of lawyers. The professional ethics could be corrupted with generally minimal experience or lack of learning on the modern democracy, which was, nevertheless, taken as granted by the public or even the source of public respect for the lawyers at that time. The neo-institutionalism or a pursuit with the kind of 6 Bourdieu's or cognitive sociology had certainly exited the sociological scene of the first and second periods. The culture, in this sense, certainly interacted with the political and economic condition, at least divulging the sociological facts within the group of specific professions normally situated under the policy regulation and hybrid policy environment. Because of the fateful dominance of economic element, they could not be disposed, in cases, of collective consciousness about some normative possibility as Habermas envisioned. However, we also could be felt with the statement of one interviewee about their sacred cause and courage, "Five judges around the third period would be a precious exemplar, who sacrificed themselves to the ideals of professional community. They would well be considered such holy spirit, attorney Lee, a resurrected symbol around the second period, who gladly confronted with the enemies threatening the judicial independence...." Another interviewee also commented on the professional ethics, "The lawyers around the early of third period would be the kind of hungerdriven, who had to make a social visit to funerals every night...they would make public ads even to demean the dignity of profession...However, as a senior attorney, how can I blame them to see their routines and reality..." Culture would be very deep through the professions, but well be volatile depending on the transformation of society and playing fields. Culture seemingly would marry with the politics continuously given if the errands or public causes were to be produced despite my ordering of three periods. The extent of their sacrifice or context of persecution would differ, nonetheless. Culture associated with the economic reality would be more chartable within the third period, in which the predictions could not be plenary through the assertions and propositions for better understanding of PAKJS. Conclusion Figure Predictions and Reiterative Process toward the Final Findings 7 As we see, the steps in qualitative research begin with the general research questions, selecting relevant sites or subjects and through the collection of relevant data. The predictions were challenged much within the final process as the figure shows. The reiterative process and density to deal with the literature and new perspectives to interpret data would inevitably occur. The qualitative studies are based on words and interpretations as well as constructions, and often can be connected to ontological convictions although a number of qualitative researchers usually chose the method for pragmatic or personal reason. The ontological aspect of qualitative method, however, related with so-called "linguistic turn" to challenge the hegemony of quantitative research based on natural scientific model. This trait would have an extent of aura that intensified through the last five processes presented in the figure, in which the audience can know a major difference between theory and data and theory could be extracted from data.3 A need to test the predictions and further research process would be helpful since the strategy stands on the work process enabling that it embodies a view of social reality as a constantly shifting emergent property of individuals' creation or processes. This quality can bring the utility of method that the researchers could generate deep cultural understanding about the phenomenon in question. 3 Therefore, the research strategy of qualitative method could be seen in four major attributes, i.e., focus on words, inductive relationship between theory and research, interpretivism and constructionism. 8 References Davies, W (n.d). From jurisdiction to Translation: Elite Power Under Advanced Neoliberalism. Retrieved Jan. 25 from https://www.academia.edu/20280105/From_Jurisdiction_to_Translation_Elite_Power_ Under_Advanced_Neoliberalism. Hoover, K. R., & Donovan, T. (2003). The elements of social scientific thinking (8th ed.). Belmont, CA: Wadsworth. Kim, Kiyoung, An Attempt on the Methodological Composure: Between the Number and Understanding, Nature and Construction (December 12, 2015a). K. Kim, An Attempt on the Methodological Composure: Between the Number and Understanding, Nature and Construction, Chosun University, 2015. Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=2702701 Kim, Kiyoung and Ju, Hyun-Meong and Khatun, Marium, A Reflection on the Research Method and Exemplary Application to the College and University Rankings (October 23, 2015b). Kiyoung Kim, Hyun-Meong Ju, Marium Khatun. A Reflection on the Research Method and Exemplary Application to the College and University Rankings. Education Journal. Vol. 4, No. 5, 2015, pp. 250-262. doi: 10.11648/j.edu.20150405.23. Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=2686045 Kim, Kiyoung, Concerning the Research and Science (April 10, 2015c). Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=2592858 or http://dx.doi.org/10.2139/ssrn.2592858 Kim, Kiyoung, The Research Design and Methodologidal Deliberation (December 23, 2015d). Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=3305760 Miles, B. M., Huberman, A.M., Saldana, J (2013). Qualitative data analysis: A methods sourcebook, Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Patterson, M (n.d.) . Toward a New Materialism in Sociology: How the Sociology of Culture Killed Culture and Why that's a Good Thing. Retrieved Jan. 25, 2016 from https://www.academia.edu/19673939/Toward_a_New_Materialism_in_Sociology_Ho w_the_Sociology_of_Culture_Killed_Culture_and_Why_thats_a_Good_Thing. Springer, S. (n.d.) The Discourse of Neo-liberalism. Retrieved Jan. 26, 2016 from https://www.academia.edu/12679285/The_Discourse_of_Neoliberalism_An_Anatomy _of_a_Powerful_Idea.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Molyneux's Question Within and Across the Senses John Schwenkler Florida State University §1. Introduction Molyneux's question (see Locke 1694/1975: II, ix, 8) asks us to imagine a man born blind who has learned to identify certain three-dimensional shapes by touch. We are to suppose that this man is now 'made to see', and that the very shapes he can identify through touch are placed before his eyes. The question is: Would the man be able immediately to identify the shapes that he then saw? On a first pass it may seem that contemporary philosophers' answers to this question should break down neatly according to their views of the metaphysics of perceptual experience, as follows. If perception is a presentation or representation of external objects and their properties, then since shape is a property that can be perceived through vision and touch alike, there should be no need for an associative process before a person can identify shapes that are presented or represented through sight as the same as those that are presented or represented through touch. By contrast, if perceptual experience consists in qualia or internal sensations, then since the qualitative character of visual experience is so different from that of the experience of the world through touch, we should not expect the identity of what is seen with what is touched to be transparent to a naïve perceiver. But this would be too quick. Where A and B are both representations of the same object or property X, the identity A=B may not be transparent to a rational subject in possession of both representations as long as A and B present X under different modes of presentation.1 Thus, for example, if two objects of the same color are shown under different lighting conditions, it may be no trivial thing to recognize that their colors are the same, and the ability to recognize this might depend on prior experience in the way that lighting affects the appearance of color. If there is such a difference between the modes of presentation of shapes in vision and in touch, the answer to Molyneux's question could be negative even according to an 'externalist' account of perceptual content. Notice that in order to get this concern off the ground we need something more than the observation that there are very general differences between the qualitative or phenomenal character of visual experience and that of the experience of the world through touch- 1 For a helpful discussion of perceptual modes of presentation, see Rescorla (forthcoming). such that a person who is 'made to see' for the first time may say that he didn't know before what that was like, and such that there will be no question for a person familiar with what it is like to sense through a given modality whether a certain experience is an experience in that modality rather than another. This is because these general differences could have a lot to do with there being ranges of properties-like color on the one hand, and temperature on the other-that are perceived through sight but not through touch, and vice versa, whereas Molyneux's question concerns a property that is be perceivable by sight and touch alike. The idea that motivates a negative answer to Molyneux's question is that even if we abstract away from those general differences and consider only a 'common sensible' like shape or size, there is enough difference in how a particular property of this sort 'appears' or is presented to the perceiving subject between vision and touch that it is open to question whether being able to recognize the property in one of these sensory manifestations would guarantee the ability to recognize it in the other one. In the present case, the most obvious reason to take this possibility seriously has to do with the great difference between how information about object shape is obtained through sight as opposed to touch. Whereas vision depends on light reflected from the facing side of a visible object, in touch the source of sensory information is the stimulation of receptors which may be in contact with several different sides of an object at once-as when a person places an object in her mouth or encompasses it with one or both of her hands. In addition, motion seems to play a more essential role in touch perception than in vision, as there is no counterpart in touch to the way we can identify the shape of a visual stimulus simply 'at a glance' and without needing to move in respect to it.2 Even if we accept that many of the same properties are made manifest (presented, represented) as we perceive the world through these two sensory modalities, the differences between the modalities in how we perceive these properties through them seem to lead to differences in how they manifest the properties to us. However, this last phenomenon-that of a given property's being manifested differently across distinct sensory perceptions of it-does not arise only when those perceptions involve different sensory modalities. For example, imagine feeling the shape of a small object with your hand and then putting that object in your mouth to perceive its shape by moving your tongue around it-or, for that matter, feeling the shape of an object with one hand and then feeling it again with the other. There is a difference between how a shape feels to your hand and fingertips, compared to how it feels to your tongue and the roof of your mouth. Even more obviously, an irregular shape will look different when it is seen from one viewing angle compared how it looks when seen from another one. In each case the possibility may arise of perceiving the same shape accurately on separate occasions without being able to tell if it is the same shape that one perceives, even though 2 On the essential role of motion in tactile perception, see Fulkerson 2014. neither case involves any comparison between perceptions in two different sensory modalities. The present chapter will explore how our understanding of Molyneux's question, and of the possibility of an experimental resolution to it, should be affected by recognizing the complexity that is involved in reidentifying shapes and other spatial properties across differing sensory manifestations of them. I will argue that while philosophers today usually treat the question as concerning 'the relations between perceptions of shape in different sensory modalities' (Campbell 1995, 301), in fact this is only part of the question's real interest, and that the answer to the question also turns on how shape is perceived within each of sight and touch individually. §2. The Looks of a Shape My argument is that the answer to Molyneux's question turns on at least two issues, namely (i) the relationship between visual and haptic perceptions of shape and (ii) the way that these properties are perceived within each sensory modality. Call (i) the intermodal question, and (ii) the intramodal one. The relevance of the intermodal question is easiest to see. Suppose for example that the visual system represents object shape in a proprietary 'code' which is separate from the code that is used for representing felt shape, and that cross-modal shape comparisons depend on relating the perceptual representations that are in these two distinct systems.3 In this case the answer to Molyneux's question is likely to be negative, except in the unlikely event that the proprietary codes of sight and touch happen to be the same, or that the translation of these codes to one another or to the postulated common code is achieved by an innate or otherwise 'hard-wired' mechanism. If, however, the code in which sight and touch carry information about shape is common between the two modalities, then should we expect an affirmative answer instead? Not necessarily-for either of sight and touch might fail to represent shape in the way that would be required for a cross-modal comparison. One way this might happen is if, as some of the early empiricists supposed, vision represents only 2D object shape while touch represents shape in three dimensions.4 In this case the range of spatial properties that are represented in each of the two senses will be too dissimilar to affect comparisons 3 For earlier discussion of this 'common-coding' proposal and its relation to Molyneux's question, see Altieri 2015, Schwenkler 2015. 4 Smith (2000) argues convincingly that this is not an idea we should take seriously any longer. between them-even if the information about these properties is carried in a common language. (a) (b) (c) (d) Figure 1. Four appearances of a shape. To bring another way this second sort of thing could happen, consider the four tokens of the shape 'ß' that are shown in Figure 1. Do they have the same shape? You will answer yes if you can see that the left-hand shape is no different from the right-hand one except in how they are rotated. But that is no trivial achievement. In order to recognize these shapes as the same you need to represent the shape of each in a way that is indifferent to the shape's relation to your eyes and head when you look at the figure. And I think we can imagine a perceiver that could only recognize sameness and difference of shape in a way that was not so indifferent to egocentric orientation. Such a creature could recognize the sameness of the shapes in (a), (b), and (c) but would not be able to recognize that the shape in (d) was the same as these. It could identify a pair of identical shapes as the same only if they had the same orientation relative to its eyes and head. One might object that the creature just imagined should not be described as representing the sameness and difference of shape at all, but only sameness and difference in a relevant dimension of sensory stimulation. And there is something to this worry, as shape is an abstract property in the sense that objects can share the same shape despite differences in size, color, location, orientation, and so on. This means that a perceiver cannot count as being able to recognize a given shape across different perceptions of it, as opposed to being able merely to respond selectively to a certain pattern of sensory stimulation, unless she can abstract away from some of these differences and tell that the shape is the same despite them. Still, we should not require as a condition of being able recognize a certain shape by sight that one be able to recognize this shape in every visible manifestation of it. And the creature I asked us to imagine has learned to apply the same concept to the shape 'ß' in several quite different modes of visual presentation, insofar as the shapes in (a) and (c) are different in color from (b), while (c) differs from (a) and (b) in its size, and each differs from both of the others in its location on the page. What these stimuli have in common is nothing but their shape. If our creature can recognize this commonality, she will thereby have recognized that the same shape appears in each. ß ß ß ß Can we, then, imagine a perceiver who could do this much but could not extend this ability to the appearance of the shape in (d) as well? It seems to me that we can indeed conceive this-perhaps not 'from the inside' by trying to imagine what it would be like to experience the world in this way, but insofar as we appreciate that the capacity to reidentify a shape across differences in its orientation requires something other than the capacity to reidentify it across differences in color, size, and location. That is, the representation of visible shape according to an object-centered reference frame that abstracts away from differences in egocentric orientation, such that the shape in Figure 1(d) can be recognized as the same as that in Figure 1(a), requires something additional to the viewer-relative form of visual spatial representation that would suffice to identify the shape in (a) as the same as those in (b) and (c). A perceiver who could do only the latter thing could reidentify an irregular shape across differences in color, size, and location, but could not do the same across differences in its spatial orientation of the shape relative to her eyes. For her, differences in the viewer-relative orientation of an irregular shape would make it appear to be a different shape altogether. §3. Shape Across the Senses Return to the question that I raised at the start of the previous section. What has to be true of sight and touch individually, i.e. beyond whatever sort of connection must exist between them, in order for a shape to be recognized as the same across these senses? The cases that we've just considered help to bring this question into focus insofar as it's quite implausible that the explanation of why someone might fail to recognize that the shape in Figure 1(d) is the same as that in Figure 1(a) would have anything to do with the lack of a suitable connection between these two representations. (At least not in the way that we imagined the case. It would be different if, say, the failure were due to an inability to communicate visual information between the two hemispheres.) The idea was rather that while these representations shared a common code, nevertheless the information contained in the two representations wasn't sufficient to identify the represented shapes as the same. And it should not be hard to see how something like this could lead to difficulty in comparing seen shapes to felt ones. Insufficient attention to this matter has led to difficulties in some recent attempts to answer Molyneux's question experimentally. Consider for example a study carried out by Held et al., which for a while was thought to have resolved the question once and for all.5 5 For example, an article in The New York Times reported that the Held study 'appears to show definitively that Locke was right' in answering Molyneux's question negatively (Nicholas Bakalar, 'Science of Vision Tackles a Philosophy Riddle', The New York Times, April 25, 2011). The criticism of the study that I offer below builds on the argument I made earlier in Schwenkler (2012; 2013). Having performed cataract surgery that gave sight to five individuals who had been congenitally blind, Held and colleagues had them perform a shape matching task6 in three conditions: 'vision-to-vision' (VV), in which all the stimuli were displayed visually; 'touch-to-touch' (TT), in which all were placed in the hand but hidden from view; and 'touch-to-vision' (TV), in which the first stimulus object was placed in the hands and then the others were presented to the eyes. Strikingly, while participants performed very well in the VV and TT conditions, in the TV condition they were barely above chance-just 58% of matches were identified in the cross-modal comparison, compared to 98% in touch-to-touch and 92% in vision-to-touch matching, respectively. The authors took this to show that 'the answer to Molyneux's question is likely negative', as '[t]he newly sighted subjects did not exhibit an immediate transfer of their tactile shape knowledge to the visual domain ... Whatever linkage between vision and touch may pre-exist concomitant exposure of both senses, it is insufficient for reconciling the identity of the separate sensory representations' (Held et al. 2011, 552). As we have seen, in order to accept this conclusion we would have to rule out the possibility that something other than a suitable linkage between visual and tactile representations was responsible for the participants' failure in the cross-modal task. Could the failure be due instead to inadequacy in the representation of object shape within one of these modalities? The VV and TT conditions were supposed to account for this: the researchers found that the participants could match seen shape to seen shape and felt shape to felt, and thus they suppose that the poor performance in the TV condition must have been due to the lack of a suitable cross-modal connection. This is too quick, however. In Held et al.'s VV condition, the participants sat still in a chair while objects were displayed from a single viewpoint. And for reasons we have already explored, in such a condition it is possible to classify objects according to their shapes without representing those shapes according to a perspective-invariant, objectcentered frame of reference. Yet while a merely eyeor head-centered visual representation of object shape would have been enough for performance in the VV task, such a representation would not have the sort of content necessary to compare it reliably with a representation of shape obtained through active touch. If this is the correct explanation of the results obtained in the TV condition, then we should expect that Held et al.'s participants would also have had difficulty in matching seen shapes with seen ones across significant changes in viewing angle. While this question was not tested directly, there is prima facie reason to think that the newly sighted individuals would indeed have been unable to do this. For example, Ostrovsky and 6 The task involved presenting a first stimulus object, followed by a pair of two more, one of which matched the original target. The instruction was to identify the match. colleagues showed images of three-dimensional shapes to three patients whose sight had been surgically restored between two weeks and three months earlier. Presented with these stimuli, 'the recently treated subjects reported perceiving multiple objects, one corresponding to each facet. They were unable to integrate the facets into the percept of a single three-dimensional objects' (Ostrovsky et al. 2009, 1486). Similar results were observed using color photographs of common objects, as the participants 'pointed to regions of different hues and luminances as distinct objects', revealing that their visual system had partitioned the stimuli into 'meaningless regions, which would be unstable across different views and uninformative regarding object identity' (ibid., 1487; emphasis added). Such representations might have been sufficient, however, for participants to recognize sameness or difference in the shape of a stimulus object as long as each object was displayed consistently from the same viewpoint. They just were not robust enough to permit comparisons across changes in perspective. §4. Simple and Complex A natural conclusion to draw from this criticism of Held et al.'s study is that the stimuli they used to test their participants' capacity for cross-modal matching were simply too complex for their visual systems to handle. To get around this limitation, the participants might have been presented instead with stimulus objects whose shapes could be distinguished without having to integrate a number of distinct facets into the percept of a single object. Indeed, Molyneux's original statement of the question points us this way: he suggested using a sphere and a cube, rather than the more complex Lego shapes that Held et al. employed, as a way of testing the newly sighted man's ability to match seen shape with felt. But there is a danger of pushing things too far in this direction, namely that of turning to stimuli that are so simple then they can be distinguished reliably without any need to represent their shapes as such. As before, we can motivate this difficulty just by considering an intramodal task: for example, a person might be able to distinguish a seen square from a seen circle, and match it with another square that she sees, just by being sensitive to the degree of discontinuity in the respective stimuli-a sensitivity that could ground the requisite judgments of sameness and difference in the absence of any genuine perception of shape. In order for performance on this sort of task to provide a meaningful measure of shape perception, it needs to involve pairs of stimuli that share in common a number of low-level spatial features, which must in turn be integrated into a single complex percept. And this is just the thing that the newly-sighted subjects were found to have a particular difficulty in doing. As another way to appreciate this difficulty, consider the possibility that we might avoid the difficulties with Held et al.'s study by using 'two-dimensional' stimuli instead of threedimensional ones. ('Two dimensional' is in scare-quotes because the stimuli themselves will necessarily be three-dimensional objects.) Once again, there is historical precedent here, as such a variant on the original Molyneux question was imagined by Denis Diderot in the 18th century (see Diderot 1749/1977), and more recently by Gareth Evans in his (1985). Could we, then, just replace Molyneux's cube and sphere with a square and a circle, or the Lego shapes that Held et al. used with shapes like the 'ß' of Figure 1, either drawn on a screen and presented to the eyes or constructed as raised-line drawings which then can be felt by hand? The foremost problem for this proposal is simply that it is hard for human perceivers to identify 'flat' shapes by touch-a fact that may be surprising if we take vision as our default model of what perception is like, but should not be if we recognize the essential role of exploratory movement in haptic perception, and how rarely anything like the shape of a raised-line drawing is a relevant object of haptic perception 'in the wild'. 7 Usually, when we need to use touch to perceive the shape of an object (e.g., in the dark), we do this by running our hands or fingers around its contours-a form of dynamic exploratory motion that Lederman and Klatzky (1987) term contour following, and which is especially well suited to the perception of 3D shape. By contrast, at least for human perceivers contour following does not work well at all as a means of perceiving the shape in a two-dimensional display: indeed, as Lederman and Klatzky observe (1987, 343), 'people can explore the contours of a two-dimensionally depicted object for as long as several minutes without being able to identify it'. Kevin Connolly, who favors a version of the proposal in question, has suggested that this difficulty could be overcome just by making the stimuli very simple: 'since raised-line drawings typically are testing for proficient tactile identification in general, ... they are often testing at a level of difficulty unnecessary for a two-dimensional test of Molyneux's question, where what is required is just proficient tactile identification for a few simple shapes' (Connolly 2013, 509). Yet we have already seen that if the shapes used as stimuli are too simple, then evidence that participants can discriminate between them, even to the point of making successful cross-modal comparisons, will not be evidence that they have identified the shapes of these stimuli at all-for they could instead be responding merely to low-level features like the overall complexity or degree of discontinuity in the stimulus objects, just as the newly sighted individuals in Held and colleagues' experiment were arguably doing in the VV task. 7 For further discussion of the difficulty in identifying raised-line drawings by touch, including reference to relevant experimental literature, see Cheng 2015. In order to make progress in explaining how Molyneux's question could be addressed experimentally in a way that avoids the difficulties described above, philosophers need to propose experimental designs in which the stimuli involved are both complex enough that they can be compared successfully only through bona fide perception of their shapes, yet simple enough that their shapes can be perceived, both visually and through touch, by a person newly given sight. Only when we are confident that both of these conditions have been satisfied in a given experiment can we trust that its results will be genuinely informative. §5. Conclusion If a child is born with congenital cataracts and her sight is surgically restored, has she thereby been 'made to see'? Unsurprisingly, it depends on what this last phrase is supposed to mean. Experimental research of the sort I have surveyed makes it clear that some visual function is present immediately after restorative surgery, but a great deal more depends on subsequent perceptual learning. And it is an inconvenience to philosophers that in this visual learning, touch is also engaged-so that in learning to see a person will also have the opportunity to associate the visual appearances of things with the ways that those things feel. This inescapable fact, together with the evidence we have about the limits of newly restored sight, makes it seem unlikely that any particular experiment could answer Molyneux's question in a way that philosophers would find satisfactory. If that is right, then the best way forward on the question is through careful phenomenological reflection that is appropriately informed by relevant perceptual science. This requires getting clear on the differences between visual and haptic shape perception that give Molyneux's question its philosophical significance-differences that have to do not with sensory quality or phenomenal character, but rather with the manner in which shape is presented when it is made manifest through vision as opposed to touch. There do seem to be some such differences. But it is doubtful whether there is so much to them that a visual representation of object shape that was robust enough to allow reidentification of that shape across differences in size, location, color, and viewpoint could not also be compared reliably with a representation of shape obtained through active touch. REFERENCES Altieri, N. 2015. 'Multimodal theories of recognition and their relation to Molyneux's question'. Frontiers in Psychology 5, 1547 Campbell, J. 1995. 'Molyneux's question'. Philosophical Issues 7, 301-318 Cheng, T. 2015. 'Obstacles to testing Molyneux's question empirically'. i-Perception 6, 1-5 Connolly, K. 2013. 'How to test Molyneux's question empirically'. i-Perception 4, 508-510 Diderot, D. 1749/1977. Letter on the Blind. Repr. in M.J. Morgan, Molyneux's Question. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Evans, G. 1985. 'Molyneux's question'. In Evans, Collected Papers. Oxford: Oxford University Press Fulkerson, M. 2014. The First Sense. Cambridge: The MIT Press Held, R., Ostrovsky, Y., de Gelder, B., Gandhi , T., Ganesh S., Mathur, U. and P. Sinha. 2011. 'The newly sighted fail to match seen shape with felt'. Nature Neuroscience 14, 551-553 Lederman, S.J., and R.L. Klatzky. 1987. 'Hand movements: a window into haptic object recognition'. Cognitive Psychology 19, 342-368 Locke, J. 1694/1975. An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, 2nd ed. New York: Oxford University Press Ostrovsky, Y., Meyers, E., Ganesh, S., Mathur, U. and P. Sinha. 2009. 'Visual parsing after recovery from blindness'. Psychological Science 20, 1484-91 Rescorla, M. Forthcoming. 'Perceptual co-reference'. Review of Philosophy and Psychology Schwenkler, J. 2012. 'On the matching of seen and felt shapes by newly sighted subjects'. i-Perception 3, 186-188 Schwenkler, J. 2013. 'Do things look the way they feel?' Analysis 73, 86-96 Schwenkler, J. 2015. 'Commentary: "Multimodal theories of recognition and their relation to Molyneux's Question"'. Frontiers in Psychology 6, 1792 Smith, A.D. 2000. 'Space and Sight'. Mind 109, 481-
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
The Feeling of Personal Ownership of One's Mental States: A Conceptual Argument and Empirical Evidence for an Essential, but Underappreciated, Mechanism of Mind Stan B. Klein University of California, Santa Barbara I argue that the feeling that one is the owner of his or her mental states is not an intrinsic property of those states. Rather, it consists in a contingent relation between consciousness and its intentional objects. As such, there are (a variety of) circumstances, varying in their interpretive clarity, in which this relation can come undone. When this happens, the content of consciousness still is apprehended, but the feeling that the content "belongs to me" no longer is secured. I discuss the implications of a mechanism enabling personal ownership for understanding a variety of clinical syndromes as well normal mental function. Keywords: consciousness, experiential reality, mental states, mind, personal ownership "If you want to know what something might be good for, examine the situation where it is no longer present" (Weiskrantz, 1997, p. 6) The ability to read the above quote, though deceptively simple in practice, is a quite remarkable achievement. A cascade of subexperiential processes must, on serious reflection, come into play-including, but not limited to, attention to the printed symbols, mechanisms that convert the attended objects to meaningful content, fitting this content to the context in which it is encountered, and so forth. After extensive processing, the content of this subexperiential analysis will (under normal circumstances) be delivered to consciousness as its intentional object, resulting in the mental state we call reading (intentionality, in the present context, refers to the proposition that all conscious states have content-that is, they are about something; e.g., Anscombe, 1965; Brentano, 1995; Textor, 2013). But (and this is a core contention of this article), the automatic and flawless manner in which consciousness takes possession of its intentional objects masks a fundamental relation-specifically, the relation that enables a person to prereflectively experience his or her mental states as personally owned. In this article my interest is with the experiential aspects of mind (e.g., Klein, 2015a). In particular, I present empirical evidence and conceptual argument for a mechanism (or mechanisms) that enables consciousness to take ownership of its intentional objects (where ownership entails a sense of personal possession that, at least under normal circumstances, is prereflective-see "Personal and Perspectival Ownership" below). Such a mechanism has not, in my opinion, received sustained analysis in psychological treatments of the mind-though it has been accorded an increasingly prominent role in the interpretation of certain psychopathologies (e.g., Bortolotti & Broome, 2009) as well as the philosophy of mind (e.g., Lane, 2012). The goal of this article is to make the case for a need to devote greater attention to an aspect of experiential reality that has significant implications for normal, as well as the dysfunctional, workings of the mind. But, do we really need to add another process to the arsenal of hypothetical entities with which psychologists populate the mind? Especially one whose superfluity seems so evident? After all, isn't it little more than "a penetrating glimpse into the obvious" to arThis article was published Online First May 11, 2015. I thank Tim Lane and Dan Robinson for their penetrating insights, and Steve Lynn for unfailing support. I also thank Shaun Nichols for calling my attention to depersonalization as a case of compromised personal ownership. Correspondence concerning this article should be addressed to Stan B. Klein, Department of Psychological and Brain Sciences, 551 Ucen Road, University of California at Santa Barbara, Santa Barbara, CA 93106. E-mail: [email protected] T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. Psychology of Consciousness: Theory, Research, and Practice © 2015 American Psychological Association 2015, Vol. 2, No. 4, 355–376 2326-5523/15/$12.00 http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/cns0000052 355 gue that my feeling of ownership consists in the fact that my mental states take place in me (i.e., in my head)? Isn't one's personal ownership guaranteed by one's personal perspective? Is there a pressing need to add to the mental clutter by postulating what seems a mechanism based on a tautology? To put things bluntly-Yes! As I hope to show, perspective-based inference is found seriously wanting when the ownership relation fails-that is, in cases of psychoand neuropathology (see "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Clinical Pathology" and "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Nonclinical Pathology" below). Under these circumstances, perspective is insufficient to underwrite feelings of personal ownership. In what follows I present both conceptual and empirical arguments in support of the need to posit a separate mechanism that enables consciousness to take ownership of its intentional objects. Before proceeding let me be very clear on an important point. My interest is in the mechanisms that sanction an individual's feeling of epistemic authority in questions of personal ownership. As will be see in "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Clinical Pathology" and "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Nonclinical Pathology," a person may be confused or mistaken about the origins of his or her mental states. But, from a (bio)logical perspective, those states belong to the individual, whether s/he knows it or not: They are the products of his or her mind. In this article I am concerned with the former sense of personal ownership-that is, the mechanisms that enable a person to take noninferential possessory custody of mental states that, of ontological necessity, are authored by the person (though s/he might no longer know it). Key Terms and Their Definitions Because readers are likely to be unfamiliar with terms such as personal and perspectival ownership (concepts seldom voiced outside certain Eastern philosophical traditions; e.g., Albahari, 2006), I first explain what I have in mind for some of the terms that play a central role in this article. Although not everyone will agree with my definitions, this exercise should leave little doubt about the meanings I intend. In what follows, several terms and their (perhaps idiosyncratic) meanings are presented in approximate order of their appearance in the text. Consciousness Consciousness is a topic whose explication (much less existence) has been the target of scholarly discourse for thousands of years. Despite the optimistic claims of some (e.g., emergent materialists), continuing struggles with this topic show little evidence of any imminent resolution. Analysis of consciousness has impressed upon investigators the need to partition the term into a variety of types and subtypes- for example, access consciousness, phenomenal consciousness, state consciousness, primary consciousness, temporal consciousness, core consciousness, reflective consciousness, primary consciousness, sentience, noetic awareness, autonoetic awareness, creature consciousness, higher order thought, pure consciousness, self-awareness, and so forth. Although I appreciate the conceptual utility of many of these designations, my use of the term "consciousness" consists in the proposition that X is a state of consciousness if and only if there is "something it is like" for the organism to be in that state (e.g., Nagel, 1974). That is, consciousness, as I use the term, consists in first-person subjectivity. This usage is what most philosophers have in mind when discussing phenomenal consciousness (e.g., Chalmers, 1996; Strawson, 2009a), although a precise definition of "what it is like to be in a particular state" has proven to be notoriously difficult (e.g., Block, 1995). Phenomenal consciousness is perhaps best understood from the perspective of personal acquaintance (e.g., Russell, 1912/1999; for discussion, see "Two Paths to Knowledge" below). Mental States and Mind A mental state consists in representational content (i.e., an intentional object) and its conscious apprehension. The resulting mental states 356 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. are individuated by both the properties of the intentional object (e.g., facts, images, propositions) and features associated with the type of consciousness to which content is presented (as noted, in this article I will be concerned primarily with phenomenal consciousness). For example, the same content (e.g., information about one's home) can result in the mental state of episodic recollection (when the intentional object is conjoined with autonoetic consciousness) or of knowledge (when it is apprehended by noetic consciousness). Mental states comprise the great variety of psychological faculties familiar to both academic discourse and personal phenomenology (e.g., attitudes, belief, memory, imagination, thought, inference, etc.; for discussion, see Klein, 2015b). Importantly, a mental state is the subjectively experienced outcome of subexperiential processes taking place in the brain. These subexperiential processes consist in various learned and inherited subroutines and decision rules (e.g., Klein, Cosmides, Tooby, & Chance, 2002) that act on stored content to enable the judgments, thoughts, inferences, plans, decisions, and so forth we experience as (and enact in virtue of) our mental states. Although subexperiential processes are necessary preconditions for having a mental state, they are nonmental: They are the neural mechanisms that enable experience, not the experience itself. They conceivably could go on without there being any subjective experience. An analogy may help: While a play consists in a great many behind the scenes activities (securing funding, finding a venue, etc.), strictly speaking, none of these activities is the play itself. On this view, the mind is the collection of subexperiential processes required for having a mental state and the mental states that they enable.1 Personal and Perspectival Ownership By personal ownership I mean that one's experiences are felt as belonging to oneself. The appropriation of the content of experience to one's self is noninferential and prereflective (i.e., directly given as "mine"). In James' (1890) colorful terms, personal ownership is accompanied by the feeling that one's experiential content is imbued with a sense of warmth and intimacy. Given the effortless manner in which the felt ownership of mental states typically unfolds, we seldom are aware an ownership relation between consciousness and its content needs to be forged. However, as we will see in "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Clinical Pathology" and "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Nonclinical Pathology" below, in certain clinical conditions (e.g., depersonalization, thought insertion, somatoparaphrenia), intentional objects can be present in awareness, yet lack the feeling that they are owned by consciousness. When this occurs, the content that serves as the intentional object is treated as alien to the self. Even when the afflicted individual accepts that he or she must have authored the phenomenologically unowned content (e.g., although I acknowledge that I produced the thought in my head, it is not mine. I was forced to think it by an alien, divine intervention, or the mind control machine in the basement of the CIA), the content is accompanied by nagging feelings of personal disconnectedness (see "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Clinical Pathology" and "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Nonclinical Pathology" below). In these ways, the ordinarily hidden relation between experienced content and personal ownership, in virtue of it absence, is thrust into view. Personal ownership can be seen as the "mental glue" that experientially binds the two core properties of a mental state (content and its conscious apprehension; see "Mental States and Mind" above) into a sense of oneness (i.e., my content). In contrast, perspectival ownership of one's mental states is not a directly given, prereflective aspect of occurrent experience. Rather, it is based on inferential knowledge-specifically, 1 Great care must be exercised here. Cerebral blood flow and neuro-cellular metabolism also are subexperiential processes whose integrity is essential to having a mental state. But it would seem a conceptual over-reach to classify such things as aspects of mind. Boundaries need to be drawn, but the borders (at present) are far from clear. 357PERSONAL OWNERSHIP OF MENTAL STATES T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. knowledge that my mental states appear in a manner different from that in which they appear to anyone else-that is, they are in my head. Content present to experience in this manner does not guarantee the experiencer will (or can) assume ownership of the content (see "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Clinical Pathology" and "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Nonclinical Pathology" below). In sum, what individuates a mental state as distinctly and exclusively my own is that I intuitively sense-without a need for intuition, inference, or reflection-that the content of that mental state is uniquely and infallibly my content (for detailed discussions, see Albahari, 2006; Klein, 2012, 2013; Lane, 2012, 2014; Shoemaker, 1984; Zahavi, 2011). This form of ownership is the focus of the present article. Functional Independence The contention that two processes, systems, or mechanisms (i.e., X and Y) are functionally independent does not imply that X has nothing to do with Y or that they are completely separate. Rather, as Tulving (1983, p. 66), discussing systems of memory, explains, functional independence means that "one system can operate independently of the other, though not necessarily as efficiently as it could with the support of the other intact system." In this article, I attempt to demonstrate that consciousness and its intentional objects are functionally independent: Although their joint presence is necessary for having a mental state, consciousness and content are not ontologically coextensive. A Brief look at the Basic Model, Its Implications for Personal Ownership, and the Organization of the Argument for Personal Ownership A core connection of this paper is that a mental state is the experienced outcome of the conjoining of content and consciousness. Although the mental states that result from this interaction are determined by subexperiential (primarily neuro-cognitive; but see footnote 1) activity, these are preconditions for the state, not the state itself. That is, there is no mental state (e.g., memory, knowledge, imagination, belief, etc.) until content is made available to, and apprehended by, consciousness (e.g., Klein, 2012, 2015a; Neuhouser, 1990). In this sense, the commonly held assumption that there are subexperiential systems capable of being designated as, say, memory or imagination is called into question. This is not to say there are no neural modules (in the Fodorian, sense; e.g., Fodor, 1983) with dedicated functions at the subexperiential level. Rather, the argument is that the output of those modules remains state-neutral until it is acted on by consciousness. Thus, the same subexperiential system may play role in movements that enable "swinging a golf club" or "reenacting a hole-in-one." But the output of that system does not become "an athletic performance" or "a behavioral manifestation of memory" until it becomes the intentional object of consciousness. An example may help. Consider the mental state we call "memory." To experience a memory is to experience the product(s) of a sequence of subexperiential processes (e.g., encoding, storage and retrieval). But memory is not coextensive with these subexperiential processes. Rather, the outcome of subexperiential processing "becomes" memory only when the content it produces is taken by consciousness in a specific way (for fuller discussion, see Klein, 2013, 2015b). For example, depending in part on the context in which the object is given to consciousness, the same content could be experienced as imagination, thought, belief, and so forth (for a detailed discussion see Klein, 2015b). On this view, there are no subexperiential systems specifically dedicated to specific types of memory: The type of memory experience one has (e.g., episodic or semantic) is realized only once consciousness takes state-neutral content in a particular way (e.g., autonoetically or noetically). We thus need to distinguish the preconditions that enable first-person experience from the experience itself. Before being associated with a particular form of consciousness under particular circumstances, stored content is stateneutral-that is, it is agnostic with regard to the mental state in which it will participate: The same content can eventuate in the mental states we call imagination, thought, planning, belief, attitude, hope, and so on, as well as in memory. 358 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. (To avoid potential confusion, let me be clear that the individuation of a mental state as, say, a memory, thought or a belief is a function of a variety of factors-including, but not limited to, the nature of the intentional object as well as the type of consciousness and the subexperiential routines enacted on the intentional object. Personal ownership enables one to experience possessory custody of a mental state: It is not a determining factor in the type of state experienced.) Recently I have argued that a model of mind-in which the notion of preexisting neural networks dedicated to producing specific mental states is replaced by the view that subexperiential processes produce state-neutral content that is psychologically individuated (e.g., as memory, thought, imagination) only after being acted on by consciousness-can help us better understand both memorial (e.g., Klein, 2013, 2015b) and self-referential (e.g., Klein, 2012, 2014a) experience. Although a detailed treatment of this model would take us far from of our goal (i.e., making the case for a mechanism of personal ownership), in the next section I briefly discuss the core constituents of a mental state (content and consciousness). A rudimentary understanding of the way in which these components relate to each other provides the conceptual scaffolding necessary to support the arguments I subsequently advance for a mechanism of personal ownership. A basic understanding of the ontological commitments of these constituents also will help us appreciate the methods and procedures required to tackle the complex issue of how mental states are known ("Mental States" below). In "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Clinical Pathology" and "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Nonclinical Pathology" below, I draw on these methods to document what happens when the mechanisms supporting feelings of personal ownership go wrong. Finally, I discuss some implications of these findings and suggest several domains in which a theory of personal ownership might help us make sense of puzzling clinical phenomena. Mental States: Consciousness and Its Intentional Objects Although it is well-beyond the scope of this article to provide a detailed treatment of the relation between content and consciousness, suffice it to say that, on the basis of both current empiricism and rational analysis, these two aspects of mind cannot be deduced from, or reduced to, a single, underlying principle, structure, process, substance, or system (e.g., Earle, 1972; Klein, 2012, 2014a; Nagel, 2012; Strawson, 2009a; Zahavi, 2005). One-the subexperiential processes that eventuate in the content presented to consciousness-are materially (primarily neural) instantiated, and therefore can, at least in principle, be objectified and quantified (e.g., Klein, 2012, 2014a). Accordingly, the processes responsible for the content of consciousness are capable of being treated as objects of scientific inquiry. The other-first-person subjectivity-is the aspect of mind that experiences the intentional objects made available. It thus is the subject, rather than the object, of experience. As will be argued below, subjectivity cannot directly be known by acts of inference or analysis. Knowledge of our personal subjectivity is not something that can adequately be captured by propositional truths (i.e., descriptive analysis); rather it is a matter of direct acquaintance (e.g., Earle, 1972; Kant, 1998; S. Klein, 2012; McGinn, 2004; Robinson, 2008; Nagel, 1974; Russell, 1912/1999). These considerations have important consequences for mental states as the focus of scientific inquiry. As introductory texts on psychology and neuroscience make abundantly clear, considerable progress has been made describing the subexperiential bases of mental states. This is because such mechanisms can be objectified and quantified, thus rendering them amenable to scientific analysis (at least what remains of them following conceptual reduction; e.g., Klein, 2015a). By contrast, consciousness still is too poorly understood to provide the definitional clarity required to situate it securely within a descriptive framework. Indeed, the difficulties encountered have left some wondering whether a satisfying conceptual treatment is possible in practice or in principle (e.g., Husserl, 1964; McGinn, 1991, 2004; Klein, 2014a; Nagel, 2012; Robinson, 2008). 359PERSONAL OWNERSHIP OF MENTAL STATES T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. Not surprisingly, researchers (intentionally or otherwise) often attempt to side-step these difficulties by relying on readers' familiarity with terms such as "consciousness" and "subjectivity" (derived from years of knowledge by acquaintance; see subsection "Two Paths to Knowledge") to confer a sense of confidence that he or she knows what it is to which the researcher refers. But the problem remains: Careful analysis of the epistemological warrant of a purely theoretical rendition of first-person subjectivity reveals we largely are in the dark concerning what it is we are referring to when we attempt to describe what we mean by the word "consciousness" (e.g., Klein, 2012; McGinn, 2004; Robinson, 2008; Russell, 1913/ 1992; Varela et al., 1993). Equally problematic, any attempt to treat consciousness as the object of scientific scrutiny has the consequence of stripping it of its core feature-its subjectivity (e.g., Earle, 1972; Klein, 2012, 2014a, 2015a; Robinson, 2008; Midgley, 2014). When objectivity2 is the stance adopted by subjectivity to study itself-that is, when consciousness takes itself as its intentional object-subjectivity must, of logical necessity, be directed toward some "other" that serves as its object (e.g., Earle, 1972; Husserl, 1964; Klein, 2012; Neuhouser, 1990; Rossman, 1991; Zahavi, 2005). Thus, to study first-person experience as an object, one first must transform it into a third-person entity. Paradoxically, the subjective aspect of the mind can achieve objectivity only at the cost of forfeiting its essence as the mind's subjective center (e.g., Earle, 1955; Gallagher & Zahavi, 2008; Klein, 2012; Varela, Thompson, & Rosch, 1993). Once apprehended as an object by first-person subjectivity (one's own or that of another), consciousness becomes an object in the manner all objects (mental and physical) become when objectified and quantified (e.g., Husserl, 1964; Klein, 2014a; Neuhouser, 1990). In the process, the subjective core of the firstperson experience is lost. Science trades in the world of publically observable and physically measureable objects and events (e.g., Earle, 1955; Hanson, 1958, 1971; Margenau, 1950; Rescher, 1984, 1997). Bridging laws-which, despite attracting the critical attention of philosophers (e.g., Hempel, 1965), continue to have considerable traction in psychology (e.g., Klee, 1997)-play an important role in this enterprise, providing a theoretic device by which investigators construct logically defensible mappings of observables to theory (e.g., Klee, 1997; Ladyman, 2002; Margenau, 1950). But, as we have seen, for consciousness to become part of scientific inquiry, it first has to relinquish its subjectivity. To maintain its integrity, subjectivity cannot be transformed into an object (e.g., Husserl, 1964; Kant, 1998; Klein, 2012; Rossman, 1991; Zahavi, 2005; but see Strawson, 2009b, for a dissenting view). Yet, absent objective instantiation, bridging laws lack conceptual warrant, making it is hard to see how scientifically defensible questions about mental states can be formulated. So, How Can We Know Our Mental States? Two Paths to Knowledge If reducing first-person experience to objective, quantifiable properties strips it of its subjectivity, how might one come to know the phenomenological realization of subexperiential activity? In earlier articles, I have suggested that Russell's (1912/1999, 1913/1992) distinction between two forms of knowledge-that by acquaintance and that by description-offers a potentially productive way of exploring the mental aspects of mind (consciousness and its objects) without having to (a) prioritize one form of knowing over the other, or (b) affect a conceptual reduction in which all properties of mind are forced to fit a single mode of knowing (e.g., Klein, 2010; Klein & Gangi, 2010; see also McGinn, 2004). Knowledge by acquaintance amounts to direct contact (perceptual or introspective) with things of which we are aware. To borrow Nagel's (1974) provocative phrase, we know our mental states by our acquaintance with "what it feels like" to have those states. There is no need for intermediary steps such as "processes of inference or any knowledge of truths." (Russell, 1912/1999, p. 25). Nor are such steps epistemologically justifiable-since they have the consequence of reducing the aspect of reality under 2 Objectivity is based on the assumption that an act or object exists independent of any one person's awareness of it (e.g., Earle, 1955; Martin, 2008; Nagel, 1974; Rescher, 1997). That is, it is something other than the self. 360 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. investigation into a shadow of itself (e.g., Klein, 2015a; McGinn, 2004; Midgley, 2014). Knowledge by description, in contrast, consists in the formulation of propositional "truths" about objects of inquiry. Although we can attempt to reduce our mental states to such formalizations (as many have; e.g., Blackmore, 2004; Edelman & Tononi, 2000; Marcel & Bisiach, 1988; Weber & Weekes, 2009), doing so runs the serious risk of stripping consciousness of its phenomenological essence (e.g., Chalmers, 1996; Earle, 1955; Klein, 2015a; Nagel, 2012; Midgley, 2014; Robinson, 2008). Put differently, a purely conceptual analysis of experience, no matter how well crafted, is a discourse about, not a rendering of, experience (Klein, 2015a; Varela et al., 1993). In sum, our knowledge of our mental states is based on our direct acquaintance with them: There is "something it is like" to have a mental state. On this point, Russell is adamant: It is only in virtue of knowledge by acquaintance that we know our mental states (see also, McGinn, 2004). Although we can propose conceptual "truths" about aspects of those states, this analytic reduction renders the target of the reduction less-than-whole (e.g., Gallagher & Zahavi, 2008; Klein, 2015a). As Varela et al. (1993) observe, "When it is cognition or mind that is being examined, the dismissal of experience becomes untenable, even paradoxical. . . . To deny the truth of our own experience in the scientific study of ourselves is not only unsatisfactory; it is to render the scientific study of ourselves without a subject matter" (pp. 13–14). With mental states, experience (by acquaintance) comes first. Using Knowledge by Acquaintance to Explore the Mind Knowledge by acquaintance thus provides the palate we use to give color, form, and texture to our experiential landscape-a depiction not capable of full realization from a purely theoretical stance (e.g., Jackson, 1986; Russell, 1912/1999; Varela et al., 1993; Wallace, 2003). There simply is no other way to reliably know what a mental state, qua mental state, fully entails (e.g., Gertler, 2011; Jackson, 1986; Klein, 2015a; McGinn, 2004; Russell, 1912/ 1999). This is not to say we have first-person access to all the processes and mechanisms (many of which operate outside awareness) logically required to support our mental states. In many (perhaps most) cases we do not (e.g., Nisbett & Wilson, 1977). But we do have a privileged relation with the experienced outcomes of the subexperiential workings of mind. Accordingly, if you want to know about mental states, knowledge by acquaintance offers the only experientially defensible picture of its contours and colors. Reduction to mathematical formulas, propositional "truths," and other currently practiced tools of scientific objectification does more to obscure than to reveal the phenomenon of interest. Knowledge by Acquaintance: The Use of Introspective Techniques Strategies for treating experience as an irreducible, but knowable, aspect of reality already are available (though underutilized). Perhaps the most promising approach-sustainable within the context of our current methodological sophistication-relies on our uniquely human ability to introspect and put into words our acquaintance with our mental states. Although introspective techniques have long been held to suffer from a variety of interpretive and methodological difficulties (for review and discussion, see Ericsson & Simon, 1985), in recent years many of these concerns successfully have been addressed (e.g., Brewer, 1994; Hurlburt, 1990; Hurlburt & Schwitzgebel, 2007). Accordingly, the use of introspective reports as a reliable and informative source of information about mental states has seen a resurgence over the past few decades (e.g., in domains such as autobiographical memory, self, consciousness, and temporal self-projection; e.g., Conway, Rubin, Spinnler, & Wagenaar, 1992; Fivush & Haden, 2003; Hurlburt, 1993; Klein, 2012; Nelson, 1989; Race, Keane, & Verfaellie, 2011). This is attributable, in large part, to the unique perspective introspective data provide-that is, an empirically sanctioned and logically defensible vantage point from which to observe mental reality in the fullness in which it is given to experience (e.g., Klein, 2015a). Although translation of experience into words clearly has limitations, this currently is the best way to go when attempting to study the 361PERSONAL OWNERSHIP OF MENTAL STATES T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. experiential aspects of reality (e.g., Hurlburt & Schwitzgebel, 2007; Klein, 2014a). Personal Ownership: A Relation Between Consciousness and Its Intentional Objects In what follows, I make the case for a critically important, but conceptually underappreciated, relation between consciousness and its content. Specifically, I present evidence in support of the proposition that the mere presence of an intentional object in consciousness is not sufficient for that object to be felt as personally owned. What is needed is a mechanism by which the intentional object and consciousness are placed in an ownership relation, resulting in the prereflective feeling that the object I experience is "my" object. Evidential support for this contention comes primarily from consideration of cases in which the ownership relation is compromised. Under these circumstances, the intentional object, despite occupying a unique position with respect to its conscious apprehension (i.e., it is in my head), no longer is experienced as personally owned. Although, at first blush, this may seem incoherent (after all, how can my consciousness take as its object content that is not also my own?), its plausibility is secured by the idea (see Sections "A Brief Look at the Basic Model . . ." and "Mental States") that mental content is conceptually agnostic before being taken as an intentional object (e.g., Klein, 2013, 2015b). Subexperiential state-neutrality implies that prior to assuming the status of intentional object, content does not belong to any mental state, including the one we refer to as self (for recent discussions of the self, see Klein, 2012; Prebble, Addis, & Tippett, 2013). On this view, personal ownership is not an intrinsic property of the intentional object3; rather, ownership requires that consciousness relate to its object in a particular, self-referential way (e.g., Klein, 2013, 2014b, c; Klein & Nichols, 2012; Lane, 2012). This, of course, opens the door to the possibility that, as a result of disruption of the mechanisms underwriting prereflective feelings of personal ownership, content mistakenly may be attributed to someone or something other than the self (e.g., Talland, 1964). Even when aspects of content-for example, facts about oneself-enable one to infer personal possession (see "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership" below), inference-based ownership fails to afford the clarity and certitude provided by noninferential mechanisms of personal belonging (e.g., Klein, 2014c; Zemach, 1983). An Argument for the Need to Posit a Mechanism Capable of Forging an Ownership Relation Between Mental Content and Consciousness Based on a Reconstruction of the Hominid Mind Arguments in support of a mechanism enabling one to feel ownership of one's mental states are uncommon in psychology. The principle exception is found in literature on clinical conditions such as schizophrenic thought insertion and depersonalization (see "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership" below). Perhaps the only sustained discussion of personal ownership outside the clinical context is Jaynes' (1976) speculative interpretation of documents and artifacts dating back thousands of years. Based on his reading of the evidence, Jaynes concludes that the human mind, for much of its evolutionary history, did not consistently take its mental states (in particular, thoughts) as personally owned. Rather, our ancestors sometimes attributed such content to external agents-most often deities and demons. Thinking leaves no fossil record. Accordingly, Jaynes' reconstructive analysis is susceptible to the claim that it represents little more than a very clever, but unwarranted, reading of the historical record. However, an analysis of the introspective reports of present-day individuals suffering from (a variety of) psychological dysfunctions provides backing for Jaynes' basic position (though not necessarily the mechanisms he proposed to account for the hypothesized decoupling of content and ownership). Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Clinical Pathology In this section, I draw on patients' introspective reports to bolster my argument for a mech3 Formally, X is an intrinsic property of Y if Y's having the property X does not consist in Y also having a relation Z to something else. 362 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. anism that enables consciousness to take its intentional objects as personally owned. In (most of) the cases discussed, content remains present to consciousness, but the feeling that this content is "mine" no longer is present. That is, despite maintaining a clear sense of hosting a mental state (i.e., perspectival ownership), that state is not experienced as belonging to oneself. Such findings lend considerable support to the inference that an intentional object can exist alongside (within?) first-person subjectivity, yet not be felt as owned. Though ownership may subsequently be inferred from considerations of perspective or from information contained within the intentional object, these inferences are less than convincing to the person making the inference. As will be seen below, the loss of direct, noninferential feelings of ownership is highly confusing and occasionally traumatic (for reviews, see Albahari, 2006; Klein & Nichols, 2012; Lane, 2012; Stephens & Graham, 2000). In the next subsection I show how a number of distinct clinical phenomena acquire conceptual coherence when viewed as disruptions of personal ownership. However, while such data support the need to posit a mechanism capable of underwriting the ownership relation, the evidence presented is not free of controversy. Accordingly, in subsection "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Nonclinical Pathology," I present examples of ownership pathology less susceptible to interpretive ambiguity. Although such "pure" cases are few in number (at least at present; e.g., Klein, 2012; Lane, 2012), their scarcity is more than compensated by the conceptual clarity they provide. Evidence from frontal lobotomy. Psychosurgery in the form of prefrontal lobotomy consists in the surgical ablation of pathways linking the thalamus with parts of the frontal lobes (e.g., Freeman & Watts, 1942). Although no longer practiced-it was conducted from the late 1930s through the early 1970s-its intent was to relieve patients of mental disorders that had been found resistant to what, at the time, were standard treatments. In the days after surgical intervention, patients would report experiencing a reduction of premorbid symptoms (e.g., anxiety, depression), while showing no apparent decline in general intelligence or cognitive function. Personality remained largely intact, and the ability to recall the personal past was mostly unaffected (though patients often commented that they did not think of their past as often as they had before surgery). One consequence of the procedure-particularly relevant for our discussion-was the effect it had on patients' feelings of self-concern (e.g., Robinson & Freeman, 1954): Postsurgically, patients reported little or no interest in either their current or future circumstances. Some experienced a form of depersonalization (see subsection "Evidence From Depersonalization"), in which boundaries between self and nonself were experienced as fuzzy or, in some cases, lost entirely (e.g., Freeman & Watts, 1942). Feelings of the self as a temporal continuant (i.e., personal diachronicity) also were reduced or eliminated (although the concept of personal diachronicity remained intact; e.g., Robinson & Freeman, 1954). These findings sanction the inference that lobotomy patients' personally relevant experience consists in largely (though not completely; e.g., the loss of diachronicity) intact access to self-referential content, paired with a lack of concern for, or an interest in, that content. This dissociation between the experience of, and concern about, one's intentional objects, although not identical to loss of ownership, certainly is suggestive. However, before pursuing an analogy between concern and ownership, it is important to recognize that the data presented are based almost entirely on clinical anecdote and observations collected for purposes far afield from questions of personal ownership. Moreover, although it appears reasonable to assume that the absence of self-concern reflects the patient's failure to take the content of awareness as personally owned, such an assumption is not logically mandated. In short, although findings from patients undergoing prefrontal lobotomy for the relief of psychopathological disorders are suggestive, they do not license strong inferences about loss of ownership. More germane to questions of personal ownership is a particular aspect of the psychosurgical process-the finding that surgery often altered patients' reactions to pain without changing their ability to experience pain. That is, although lobotomy patients did not lose the sensation of pain, they experienced relief from 363PERSONAL OWNERSHIP OF MENTAL STATES T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. the anguish such sensations typically cause (e.g., Freeman & Watts, 1946, 1948). As a result of this serendipitous finding, psychosurgery was adopted as a medical procedure for alleviating the suffering associated with chronic organic pain (e.g., JAMA, 1950; Freeman & Watts, 1946, 1948; Murphy, 1951; Nemiah, 1962; for review and critical discussion, see Raz, 2009). Because this procedure most often was conducted on individuals lacking attendant psychopathology (e.g., schizophrenia), these data are not subject to the interpretive issues arising from concerns about the effects of comorbidity on introspective offerings (see Section "Evidence From Thought Insertion"). Accordingly, they are better suited to providing an untainted view of the relation between content (i.e., pain) and personal ownership than are data obtained from reports of patients undergoing psychosurgery to alleviate symptoms of psychopathology. The results of psychosurgery were relatively clear-patients simultaneously experienced pain while distancing themselves from the pain experience. This, in turn, is consistent with (though not demanding of) the inference that what is taking place in these individuals is not the absence of experienced content, but failure to imbue that content with a feeling of personal attachment. (Some may wonder whether hypnotic treatment of chronic pain warrants a similar interpretation. It does not. In the standard treatment of pain by hypnosis, what is changed the intensity of experience of pain, rather than attachment to that experience; e.g., Jensen & Patterson, 2006). Although instructive, studies of the effects of psychosurgery on pain were not designed with the purpose of testing personal ownership. Accordingly, one must exercise considerable caution drawing inferences from the data. Although it seems reasonable to interpret these findings as a disruption between content and ownership, the data require a considerable number of assumptions before such conclusions emerge. Evidence from thought insertion. Evidence more directly in support of the idea that the feeling of ownership can be disrupted by psychopathology is found in the literature on schizophrenia. Of particular bearing is the phenomenon of thought insertion. Individuals experiencing thought insertion report that there is a thought in their head that they did not voluntarily produce: That is, they do not take the thoughts as their own (e.g., Bortolotti & Broome, 2009; Campbell, 2002; Frith, 1992; Hoerl, 2001; Martin & Pacherie, 2013; for a review see Stephens & Graham, 2000). Unfortunately, the experiences of schizophrenic patients' often are delusional (e.g., Bleuler, 1911/1950; David & Cutting, 1994; Frith, 1992). A delusion, roughly speaking, is a belief maintained without due sensitivity to the evidence for or against it, and without appropriate regard for the causes of the belief or for the consequences of holding it. This leaves reports of individuals suffering thought insertion open to the objection that the reported experiences are tainted, to some indeterminate degree, by aspects of psychopathology having little, if anything, directly to do with the experience of ownership. For example, a person suffering thought insertion may feel that a thought present in awareness is his or her own, but, as a consequence of a delusional mandate (or heightened self-protective concerns), be unwilling to publically acknowledge the content as "mine." Accordingly, such data, though, on the surface, consistent with the argument for a mechanism of personal ownership, cannot, by themselves, provide closure. Evidence from anosognosia. Anosognosia is a well-documented pathology in which patients experience problems with memory, language, perception, or voluntary movement, but show either no awareness of the deficit or fail to acknowledge the deficit as their own (e.g., Babinski, 1914; McGlynn & Kaszniak, 1991; Mograbi, Brown, & Morris, 2009; for reviews see McGlynn & Schacter, 1989 and Prigatano & Schacter, 1991).4 While ansoagnosia can impact any part or parts of the body, for expositional convenience I restrict focus on its effects on bodily appendages. However, my arguments, with minor emendations, apply to anosagnosia in its broadest realizations. From an ownership perspective, one wants to know what such patients make of their own behavior-given that they clearly can perceive the affected appendage, but don't acknowledge 4 It is important to understand that these patients are not in denial of their deficits or indifferent to them (when a patient acknowledges a deficit but seems untroubled by it, the syndrome is called anosodiaphoria). 364 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. its deficits (e.g., Ansell & Bucks, 2006; Ataria, 2015; De Vignemont, 2007). Some patients attribute their inability to move a body part to arthritis or rheumatism; others, when asked to move an affected limb, appear distracted, move the unaffected limb, or respond that they have moved the affected limb, when in fact they have not (this happens even when the patient looks directly at the affected limb during examination). Explanations can become bizarre or delusional. For example, a patient may claim that the affected limb is not his or her own, but rather belongs to someone else-for example, it was forgotten by a previous patient or belongs to someone lying by their side. One woman, studied by Bisiach and Geminiani (1991), was anosognosic for her hemiplegia. She claimed that her left hand did not belong to her; rather, it had been left in the ambulance by another patient. Another hemiplegic patient stated that his left arm belonged to the examiner. When the examiner placed the patient's left hand between his own arm and hands, the patient continued to deny that his arm was his own and attributed three arms and three hands to the examiner! Viewed in terms of pathologies of personal ownership, these cases suggest a relatively uncompromised apprehension of the intentional object (e.g., an intact ability to mentally represent the affected body part-although this content often is compromised to a degree) existing alongside intact consciousness (e.g., the ability to take that content as an object of awareness). What has come undone is the link that enables content to be given directly and prereflectively to the consciousness as "mine": The person acknowledges the presence of an "afflicted" limb, but fails to experience that presence as indicative of personal ownership. Interestingly, in some of the cases mentioned, the patient seems unable to draw on rational inference to compensate for the loss of felt of ownership (e.g., the patient who believed the examiner possessed three hands). Anosognosia represents a diverse collection of afflictions, varying both in the bodily (and mental-e.g., memory; Ansell & Bucks, 2006) function compromised, and the extent to which the patient is able to acknowledge the presence of dysfunction. Although it typically is found in cases of neural damage or disease, it also occurs in cases of psychopathology (e.g., dementia, schizophrenia). Although the former (neural damage) are not necessarily troubling from an interpretive standpoint (such damage is not inevitably accompanied by comorbidity), the latter suggest that cases of anosognosia can be delusional and thus present some of the interpretive difficulties I raised with regard to thought insertion. In addition, the status of one's body image can be partially compromised by the disorder (e.g., Prigatano & Schacter, 1991), making it difficult to ascertain the extent to which the designation of "intact" is an accurate description of the intentional object. Evidence from depersonalization. A less contentious domain within which to seek evidence for the loss of personal ownership is the psychiatric syndrome known as depersonalization (e.g., Reutens, Nielson & Sachdev, 2010; Sierra & Berrios, 1997; Simeon, 2004; Simeon & Abugel, 2006). Depersonalization-which can be transient or chronic-is characterized by a sense of detachment from one's self (e.g., Guralnik, Schmeidler, & Simeon, 2000; Medford, Sierra, Baker, & David, 2005). As described in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, fifth edition (DSM 5; American Psychiatric Association, 2013), persons experiencing depersonalization (a) feel detached from or outside of their body, (b) lack appropriation or attribution of mental states to the self, and (c) experience the self as empty and incomplete (see also Hunter, Phillips, Chalder, Sierra, & David, 2003; Sierra & Berrios, 1997; Simeon, 2004; Simeon & Abugel, 2006). Functional neuroimaging has identified abnormal prefrontal activity in patients experiencing depersonalization (e.g., Phillips et al., 2001; reviewed in Medford et al., 2005), which, taken in conjunction with the findings from prefrontal lobotomy (subsection "Evidence From Frontal Lobotomy"), suggests neural substrates in the frontal cortex may play a role in the experience of loss of personal ownership (see also footnote 5). Patients experiencing depersonalization report experiencing a persistent or recurrent sense of standing apart from both mind and body- that is, feeling that their body and mental states do not belong to them. In such cases it appears that intact self-referential content exists in conjunction with functioning first-person subjectivity, albeit a subjectivity bewildered by the absence of felt ownership of the content of its experiences. As Albahari (2006, pp. 173–174) 365PERSONAL OWNERSHIP OF MENTAL STATES T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. observes, depersonalized patients "realize there is something wrong and they wish the state and its attendant sensation would go away [italics in original] . . . the negative emotions arise because the person is in a situation he wishes was otherwise." Depersonalized patients thus appear to evidence an intact content and subjectivity conjoined with the absence of a feeling of a personal relation between these two mental state constituents. Unfortunately for our purposes, chronic depersonalization (the more prevalent form of the disorder) is found primarily in individuals suffering comorbidities such as depression, schizophrenia, anxiety disorders and panic attacks (e.g., Medford et al., 2005; Reutens et al., 2010). Research has shown extensive comorbidity (in approximately 60% of patients) with Axis II personality disorders, including borderline, avoidant personality and obsessive– compulsive personalities (Simeon, 2004). In light of these attendant pathologies, testimony of individuals experiencing depersonalization inherits much of the same interpretive ambiguity plaguing previously presented cases (e.g., thought insertion and anosognosia). Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Nonclinical Pathology Although individuals experiencing psychosurgery, thought insertion, anosognosia, and depersonalization report a loss of personal ownership (e.g., of, pains, thoughts, body image, selfknowledge), issues of comorbidity render these findings analytically challenging. However, the discovery that ostensibly unrelated clinical conditions acquire a degree of interpretive unity when viewed through the lens of a common pathology gives credence to the argument that a mechanism of "personal ownership" has both epistemological utility and ontological warrant. Fortunately there exist cases in which loss of ownership of one's mental states occurs in the absence of any apparent psychopathology. These "pure" or "untainted" cases constitute the strongest argument for a mechanism that enables consciousness to "own" its intentional objects. At present, such cases constitute a very small database (I suspect more will begin to be reported once "personal ownership" becomes recognized as a necessary constituent of mind; see also Lane, 2012). In the following subsections I present several "pure" cases. Loss of felt ownership of one's body due to neural insult: somatoparaphrenia. Somatoparaphrenia is a condition in which the patient, as a consequence of brain damage, denies ownership of contralesional body parts (e.g., Gerstmann, 1942; Halligan, Marshall, & Wade, 1995; Nightingale, 1982; Vallar & Ronchi, 2009). Feelings of disownership range from a single limb to an entire side of the body. Afflicted individuals can visually monitor their sensory-motor function and form internal representations of compromised body parts (e.g., they do not experience neglect), but they disavow ownership of the affected parts. Even if presented unimpeachable evidence that a limb belongs to (and is thus is attached to) his or her body, the patient will typically produce elaborate confabulations to explain away the "facts." For example, one patient, on being shown that her disowned limb remained securely attached to her torso, replied "But my eyes and my feeling don't agree, and I must believe my feelings. I know they look like mine, but I can feel they are not" (Nielsen, 1938, p. 555). In most cases the disorder resolves over time and unowned mental content (i.e., representations of the body) reacquires its status as "my" content. In sum, this deficit (though it is often associated with anosognosia, the two have been shown to be independent; e.g., Vallar & Ronchi, 2009) is one of personal estrangement from the content given to awareness. Although the disorder is uncommon, its accompanying phenomenology clearly shows that the integrity of the feeling of owning one's mental states can be compromised by neural insult (most commonly, as cases presented in this and previous sections show, to the frontal and parietal cortices; see also footnote 5). This, in turn, adds weight to the argument that a mechanism tasked with underwriting a sense of personal ownership has ontological reality. Loss of ownership of visually-mediated intentional objects. D.P. is a 23-year-old male who complained of "double vision" (Zahn, Talazko, & Ebert, 2008). On examination, it was discovered that D.P. did not actually experience double vision-rather, he was able to see normally, but "he did not immediately recognize that that he was the one who perceives and that 366 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. he needed a second step to become aware the he himself was the one who perceives the object" (Zahn et al., 2008, p. 398). This "second step" consisted in the use of inference-that is, he relied on personal perspective (i.e., location in my head) to surmise that his perceptual experiences were his own. Although diagnosed with right inferior temporal hypometabolism dysfunction of the right parieto-occiptal junction and precentral cortex, in all other respects D.P. appeared psychologically healthy. He suffered no psychosocial stressors or trauma and socially was welladjusted. A structured Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, fourth edition, text revision (DSM–IV–TR) interview disclosed no evidence of psychopathology. Additional testing revealed normal memory performance, visual object recognition, lexical retrieval, attention and executive function. Importantly, his visual perception was unaccompanied by delusion, thought insertion, obsessive doubt, compulsion, or fear. In short, D.P. presented normally in every regard save one- he experienced a loss of personal ownership of visually acquired intentional objects. D.P.'s pattern of spared and preserved function is consistent with the proposition that although the content of visual perception was experienced first-personally, this content no longer was taken as personally owned. Any sense of ownership required a "second step" based on rational reconstruction. D.P.'s introspective reports (which are not subject to by concerns about comorbidity) thus offer strong support for an ontological correlate of the hypothesized mechanism of personal ownership. Shared states but distinct ownership: Craniopargus. Craniopargus is a rare disorder (about 1 in every 2.5 million, relatively few of whom survive) in which twins are born joined at the head. In an extremely unusual case (even by Craniopargus standards), Krista and Tatiana Hogan's attachment extended beyond fused skulls to include a neural bridge connecting the thalamus of one sister to that of the other (details of the case are reported in Dominus, 2011). In all other respects the twins appear physically healthy and socially well-adapted (especially remarkable given the social challenges they faced). Each girl had her own body and, despite some volumetric asymmetry between left and right hemispheres, their neurocognitive function appeared intact (though lagging slightly behind developmental milestones). Of particular interest are the twins' reported experiences of each others' thoughts and perceptions. Some examples: (a) Tatiana was handed a toy bird in such a way that only she could see and touch the toy. Nonetheless, Kristina was able to report that Tatiana had received a toy bird. (b) When Tatiana was briefly touched on a bodily location out of her sister's line of sight, Kristina could point exactly to the spot on her sister's body where the touch occurred. In short, Kristina can correctly attribute shared experience (e.g., feeling of possession, feeling of touch) to her sister (and Tatiana can do the same). That is, the twins correctly ascribe occurrent mental states to the person in whom the states originated. Kristina does not say "I have a toy bird" or that "I have been touched"; rather, she says that Tatiana has the toy bird and Tatiana has been touched. Placed in the context of the ideas developed in this article, the twins report conscious apprehension of the same intentional object (which presumably is shared between them via the thalamic bridge), but personal ownership of that object is felt as a property only of the twin for whom the mental state has sensory priority. Because of their age (they were only 4 years old when covered by the New York Times), controlled studies of the twins have yet to be conducted. However, the evidence available is compelling and consistent with the view that each twin is capable of being introspectively aware of the other's mental states while also being aware that those states are not her own. Taken in conjunction with other evidence presented in "this and the preceding section," this finding is in strong opposition to the thesis that any mental state of which one is introspectively aware must be felt to be personally possessed (see also "Philosophical Considerations" below). That is, ownership is not an intrinsic property of mental states. Loss of personal ownership of one's memory. This rather unique form of memory impairment-intact retrieval of learned content absent a feeling of personal ownership-has, to my knowledge, previously been documented in only three cases (although felt loss of memory ownership occasionally is reported by patients experiencing depersonalization; e.g., Sierra, 367PERSONAL OWNERSHIP OF MENTAL STATES T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. Baker, Medford, & David, 2005). In one (very brief) report by Talland, 1964), the patient examined could accurately report the content of his memory experiences, but was unable to experience that content as his own (despite its subjective location in his head). A second case (Davidson et al., 2008) consists in its entirety of mention that patient S.M. (who was part of a group of individuals with lesions in the parietal cortex-an area often found compromised in patients suffering loss of personal ownership) complained that she "often felt that she did not know where her memories had come from" (p. 1751). Although consistent with the proposition that her "memory" problem consisted in issues of content attribution rather than content retrieval, the brevity of the report renders its utility less-than-ideal. Fortunately, there is a study for which extensive introspective reports are available-the case of patient R.B. (the details of this case are summarized herein; fuller treatment can be found in Klein, 2013, 2014c and Klein & Nichols, 2012). Patient R.B., as a result of a being struck by a car while riding his bicycle, suffered severe injuries, including a crushed pelvis and the fracturing of most of the ribs on the left side of his torso. In addition to physical trauma, he experienced several cognitive impairments. These included mild aphasia and amnesia (both retrograde and anterograde) for events in temporal proximity to his accident. Performance on tests of verbal fluency and short-term memory (STM) fell slightly below scores provided by neurologically healthy, age-matched controls. R.B.'s psychological profile, in contrast, presented a clinically healthy and socially welladjusted individual. While in the hospital, R.B. was placed on morphine (IV drip, followed by pills) and Oxycontin for relief from the considerable pain he endured. As the intensity of his pain subsided, he was weaned off medication. Importantly, at the time of testing R.B. was not on any pain medication. In addition, his longand shortterm memory impairments, aphasia, and fluency deficits had resolved. However, not all cognitive function returned. Specifically, although he could intentionally retrieve temporally and spatially situated events that had transpired in his past, those "recollections" were compromised in a very unusual manner: The events were unaccompanied by a sense of personal ownership. That is, R.B. was able to retrieve personal content from his past, but, like patient S.M., he did not feel the content belonged to him. In his own words, they lacked a sense of "personal ownership". As an example (more can be found in Klein & Nichols, 2012), shortly following his release from the hospital, R.B. provided the following descriptions of what it was like for him to remember personal events: I did not own any memories that came before my injury. I knew things that came before my injury. . . . I could answer any question about where I lived at different times in my life, who my friends were, where I went to school, activities I enjoyed. . . . But none of it was 'me.' [although, as he makes clear below, he can know they are his by an act of inference] Again: I could clearly recall a scene of me at the beach in New London with my family as a child. But the feeling was that the scene was not my memory . . . the memories did not in any way feel like they were my memories. Although R.B. can refer the content of his occurrent mental states in his past, to do so requires effortful, inferential processes (under normal, nonpathological circumstances, such reference is automatic; e.g., Klein, 2015b). For example, despite lacking the normal, prereflective feeling that an occurrent mental state is a reliving of his past (e.g., Klein, 2013, 2015b; Tulving, 1985, 2005), R.B. could accept that this content was "something that should belong to me." But, as the following introspective account makes clear, that knowledge was based on inferential reasoning rather than felt acquaintance: I can picture the scene perfectly clearly . . . studying with my friends in our study lounge. But . . . it does not feel like it was something that really had been a part of my life. Intellectually I suppose I never doubted that it was a part of my life. Perhaps because there was such continuity of memories that fit a pattern that lead up to the present time. But that in itself did not help change the feeling of ownership. He continues: Having been to MIT had two different issues . . . my memories of having been at MIT I did not own. Those scenes of being at MIT were vivid, but they were not mine. But I owned 'the fact that I had a degree from MIT'. . . that might have simply been a matter of rational acceptance of fact. . . . I remember eating pizza at XXX in Isla Vista, but the memory belongs to someone else. But knowing I like pizza, in the present, 368 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. now, is owned by me. When I recall memories from my past, I intellectually know they are about me. It just does not feel like it. Thus, R.B.'s memorial offerings were not given to consciousness as "mine." Instead, the connection had to be forged via conceptual analysis: He could infer that the content given to awareness must be from personal past experiences, but he did not know this in virtue of direct feelings of "mine-ness." In this regard, R.B.'s inferential efforts appear analogous to the 'second step" used by patient D.P. (Zahn et al., 2008) to gain an appreciation that objects present in awareness were his perceptions. R.B. eventually recovered his ownership abilities, at which time the same (or largely similar) content now automatically was taken by consciousness as a personally owned. This suggests that it was the mechanism(s) enabling personal ownership, not the content on which it acted, that was compromised by neuro-cognitive insult. R.B. describes his recovery of memory ownership as initially gradual, followed by abrupt reappropriation: When I did 'take ownership' of a memory, it was actually quite isolated. A single memory I might own, yet another memory connected to it I would not own. It was a startling experience to have no rhyme or reason to which memories I slowly took ownership of, one at a time at random over a period of weeks and months. . . . What happened over the coming months . . . was interesting. Every once in a while, I would suddenly think about something in my past and I would 'own' it. That was indeed something 'I' had done and experienced. Over time, one by one, I would come to 'own' different memories. Eventually, after perhaps eight months or so, it seemed as if it was all owned . . . as if once enough individual memories were owned, it was all owned. For example, the MIT memory, the one in the lounge . . . I now own it. It's clearly part of my life, my past. It is important to note that during his "unowned" period R.B. had no difficulty retrieving specific, often one-of-a kind, personal experiences (e.g., being on a beach in New London). He had no trouble representing his body as being present at those experiences. He knew that the content in awareness was about him rather than, say, his mother. And he could call up, that is, auto-cue (e.g., Donald, 1991), memories at will. In this sense, his "memories" were both agentic and self-referential. However, there appears to be another type of self-reference that typically accompanies recollection (ownership, mineness) that was impaired in his case. His deficit was in representing, in the first-person, that "I had these experiences." That is, his impairment entailed a loss of the ability to take personal possession of memory-based objects in awareness. In summary, in each of the cases presented in this subsection, the primary constituents of a mental state (content and consciousness; see "Mental States" above) appear to maintain their integrity. However, a specific relation between these constituent- one of ownership- has been rendered inoperative, resulting in the experience of hosting, but not personally owning, one's mental states. This, in turn, implies that personal experience (contra James, Kant and many others) is not "stamped" with the quality of "mine-ness" (e.g., Klein, 2013, 2014c). Put differently, the ownership relationship between content and consciousness appears to be contingent rather than intrinsic (e.g., Klein, 2013, 2014a, c; Lane, 2012; Zahavi, 2011). Conclusions In cases involving disruption of personal ownership, the "mental glue" that normally cements consciousness to its content in a relation of "personal belonging" loses its potency. This uncoupling, in turn, provides strong evidence for (a) a theoretical separation between what is experienced and how it is experienced (as mine), and (b) the functional independence of the hypothesized constituents (consciousness and content) of the ownership relation. No amount (or quality) of evidence can conclusively establish that a postulated entity has an ontological correlate. However, the number of cases in which diverse symptoms (e.g., thought insertion, somatoparaphrenia, depersonalization, memory disruption), when viewed through the lens personal ownership, acquire conceptual coherence strongly suggests that such a mechanism cannot be dismissed simply as a misguided failure to heed Occam's razor- that is, the stipulation that we admit no more mechanisms than are deemed minimally necessary to explain a phenomenon. The data are saying something real and important about the nature of mind, and the sooner what is being said is incorporated into our ontology of psychological mechanisms, the sooner we will be 369PERSONAL OWNERSHIP OF MENTAL STATES T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. in a position to treat experiential reality with the fullness it deserves (e.g., Klein, 2015a). The phenomenon of "disruption of personal ownership" also suggests that the hypothesized constituents of mental states-that is, consciousness and its objects ("Mental States" above)-have ontological warrant. Ownership logically entails a two-part relation between the owner and the owned. The demonstration that certain individuals experience mental content absent a feeling that this content belongs to "me," shows that this relation can come undone. And this, in turn, sanctions the conclusion that consciousness and its content are ontologically functionally independent aspects of mind.5 Clinical Consideration: Hallucinations, Flashbacks, and Pain Asymbolia The notion of "loss of personal ownership" has implications for understanding clinical disorders other than those addressed in the text: In particular, both hallucinatory experience (for reviews, see Bentall, 1990; Freeman & Garety, 2003; Larøi & Woodward, 2007) and PTSD flashbacks (for reviews see Brewin, Gregory, Lipton, & Burgess, 2010; Ehlers, Hackmann, & Michael, 2004; Hackmann, Ehlers, Speckens, & Clark, 2004) can be viewed, at least in part, as disruptions of personal ownership. A feature common to both pathologies is that the object given to awareness (in hallucinations, most commonly visual or auditory content; in flashbacks, content that reflect traumatic events that played a determinative role in PTSD etiology) is taken as not being personally owned (in hallucinatory experience, the voices "heard" and sights "seen" are attributed to sources external to the experiencing agent; in flashbacks, patients often experience the flashback as an actual event taking place now, rather than as a mental reliving of a previously experienced incident). An argument can be made that what is common to both pathological experiences is a failure of the relational mechanisms that prereflectively confer a sense of "mineness" on objects given to awareness. A similar explanation can be fashioned for the very rare disorder known as pain asymbolia (e.g., Berthier, Starkstein, & Leiguarda, 1988; Rubins & Friedman, 1948; Schilder & Stengel, 1928, 1931; for a recent review see Grahek, 2007). Patients experiencing asymbolia report that they are aware that they are in pain-that is, they feel it-but they are indifferent to it. As Schilder and Stengel (1928) note: "The patient displays a striking behavior in the presence of pain. She reacts either not at all or insufficiently to being pricked, struck with hard objects, and pinched. She never pulls her arm back energetically or with strength. She never turns the torso away or withdraws with the body as a whole. She never attempts to avoid the investigator" (p. 147). Despite failing to react to pain-inducing stimuli, asymbolics recognize what they feel as pain: "Pricked on the right palm, the patient smiles joyfully, winces a little, and then says, 'Oh, pain, that hurts.' She laughs, and reaches the hand further toward the investigator and turns it to expose all sides. . . . The patient's expression is one of complacency. The same reaction is displayed when she is pricked in the face and stomach" (Schilder & Stengel, 1928, p. 147). In short, asymbolia patients are both attentive to and aware of painful stimuli (e.g., Grahek, 2007). What they lack is the affective– motivational component that normally accompanies pain experience: The patient no longer seems to care (e.g., Lane, 2014). Put into the language developed in this article, persons experiencing asymbolia know that pains are taking place in their body, but no longer feel those pains are their own. Though admittedly speculative, this somewhat unconventional way of explaining pain asymbolia seems worth a serious look. 5 There exists an abundance of neuro-anatomical data from radiological and lesion studies suggesting that different cortical structures participate in (a) the formation and retention of mental content and (b) its ownership by consciousness. In particular structures in the medial cortex appear to play a significant role in the production and storage of content (e.g., Frankland & Bontempi, 2005; Fuster, 1999; Gabrieli, 1998; Nadel, & Moscovitch, 1997; Nadel & Peterson, 2013; Naya & Suzuki, 2011; Squire, 2004), whereas the frontal and parietal cortices seem more heavily involved in personal ownership (e.g., Davidson et al., 2008; Piolino et al., 2007; Tulving & Szpunar, 2012; Wheeler, Stuss, & Tulving, 1997; Zahn et al., 2008). Although such data are consistent with the proposed individuation of content and ownership, at this stage they are best treated as suggestive. 370 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. Philosophical Considerations: Immunity to Error Through Misidentification Wittgenstein (1958) famously held that asking someone with a toothache "are you sure it's you who have pains?" (p. 67) is nonsensical. Although we may improperly identify the target of a mental state when the target is someone else (e.g., I hear a voice which I attribute to John-when, in fact, it was Bob that I heard), we are immune to such errors of identification when mental states are ascribed to the self. Although our interpretation of the content of our experience may be inaccurate (e.g., the sun travels around the earth; two parallel lines appear to be converging), we cannot be mistaken about to whom the experience belongs. In subsequent work, Shoemaker (1968) developed Wittgenstein's observation into the now well-known proposition that first-person present-tense statements attributed to oneself are immune to error through misidentification. Although several variants of "immunity to error through misidentification" (IEM) have been recognized (for discussion see Pryor, 1999), the take-away message for our purposes is that IEM, at least in its strong form, is false: Although a person may be unfailingly accurate in his or her judgment that s/he experienced a mental state, possessory custody of that state (e.g., "it is my perception," "it is my memory," "it is my pain") can be compromised (as the cases reviewed in "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Clinical Pathology" and "Functional Independence of Content and Ownership: The Experienced Loss of Personal Ownership in Cases of Nonclinical Pathology" above show). Accordingly, we may be immune to error in the sense that "I am experiencing X mental content," but we certainly are not immune to error in the sense that "The mental content I am experiencing belongs to me." A Word of Caution Let me end with a word of caution. Although the introspective reports from a variety of sources converge on the conclusion that content in consciousness is not automatically given as "owned," the ontological status of any hypothesized entity needs to be treated with a considerable degree of conceptual prudence. The methods that currently dominate psychology do not (and perhaps cannot; e.g., Gendlin, 1962; Martin, 2008; Klein, 2012) tap directly into the heart of our discipline- experiential reality (e.g., Klein, 2015a). And it is unreasonable to expect that we can erase our ignorance by relying on method and theory unsuited to taking experience in the fullness in which it is given. Quite possibly, new methods will be needed (e.g., Gallagher & Zahavi, 2008; Gendlin, 1962; Klein, 2012, 2015a; Martin, 2008). If psychology is successfully going to fulfill one of its core missions-to tackle the subjective aspects of the mind-reliance on objectification and quantification likely will need to be supplemented with methods better-fitted to capturing the phenomenological richness conferred by acquaintance with our mental states (e.g., Klein, 2015a). References Albahari, M. (2006). Analytical Buddhism: The two-tiered illusion of self. Houndsmills, UK: Palgrave Macmillan. http://dx.doi.org/10.1057/9780230800540 American Psychiatric Association. (2013). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed.). Washington, DC: American Psychiatric Publishing. Anscombe, G. E. M. (1965). The intentionality of sensation. In R. J. Butler (Ed.), Analytical philosophy, second series (pp. 158–180). Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishers. Ansell, E. L., & Bucks, R. S. (2006). Mnemonic anosognosia in Alzheimer's disease: A test of Agnew and Morris (1998). Neuropsychologia, 44, 1095–1102. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.neuropsy chologia.2005.10.019 Ataria, Y. (2015). Sense of ownership and sense of agency during trauma. Phenomenology and the Cognitive Sciences, 14, 199 –212. http://dx.doi .org/10.1007/s11097-013-9334-y Babinski, J. (1914). Contribution a l'etude des troubles mentaux dans 1=hemiplegie organique cerebrale (anosognosie) [Contribution to the study of mental disturbance in organic cerebral hemiplegia (anosognosia)]. Revista de Neurologia, 1, 845– 848. Bentall, R. P. (1990). The illusion of reality: A review and integration of psychological research on hallucinations. Psychological Bulletin, 107, 82–95. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/0033-2909.107.1.82 Berthier, M., Starkstein, S., & Leiguarda, R. (1988). Asymbolia for pain: A sensory-limbic disconnec371PERSONAL OWNERSHIP OF MENTAL STATES T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. tion syndrome. Annals of Neurology, 24, 41–49. http://dx.doi.org/10.1002/ana.410240109 Bisiach, E., & Geminiani, G. (1991). Anosognosia related to hemiplegia and hemianopia. In G. P. Prigatano & D. L. Schacter (Eds.), Awareness of deficit after brain injury: Clinical and theoretical issues (pp. 17–39). New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Blackmore, S. (2004). Consciousness. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Bleuler, E. (1911/1950). Dementia praecox or the group of schizophrenias (J. Zinkin, Trans.). New York, NY: International University Press. Block, N. (1995). On a confusion about the function of consciousness. Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 18, 227–287. http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/ S0140525X00038188 Bortolotti, L., & Broome, M. (2009). A role for ownership and authorship in the analysis of thought insertion. Phenomenology and the Cognitive Sciences, 8, 205–224. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1007/s11097-008-9109-z Brentano, F. (1995). Descriptive psychology. London, UK: Routledge. Brewer, W. F. (1994). Autobiographical memory and survey research. In N. Schwarz & S. Sudman (Eds.), Autobiographical memory and the validity of retrospective reports (pp. 11–20). New York, NY: Springer-Verlag. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/ 978-1-4612-2624-6_2 Brewin, C. R., Gregory, J. D., Lipton, M., & Burgess, N. (2010). Intrusive images in psychological disorders: Characteristics, neural mechanisms, and treatment implications. Psychological Review, 117, 210–232. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/a0018113 Campbell, J. (2002). The ownership of thoughts. Philosophy, Psychiatry, & Psychology, 9, 35–39. http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/ppp.2003.0001 Chalmers, D. J. (1996). The conscious mind: In search of a fundamental theory. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Conway, M. A., Rubin, D. C., Spinnler, H., & Wagenaar, W. A. (Eds.). (1992). Theoretical perspectives on autobiographical memory. London, UK: Kluwer Academic Publishers. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1007/978-94-015-7967-4 David, A. S., & Cutting, J. C. (1994). The neuropsychology of schizophrenia. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum Publishers. Davidson, P. S. R., Anaki, D., Ciaramelli, E., Cohn, M., Kim, A. S. N., Murphy, K. J., . . . Levine, B. (2008). Does lateral parietal cortex support episodic memory? Evidence from focal lesion patients. Neuropsychologia, 46, 1743–1755. http://dx .doi.org/10.1016/j.neuropsychologia.2008.01.011 De Vignemont, F. (2007). Habeas corpus: The sense of ownership of one's own body. Mind & Language, 22, 427–449. http://dx.doi.org/10.1111/j .1468-0017.2007.00315.x Dominus, S. (May 25, 2011). Could conjoined twins share a mind? The New York Times Magazine. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/29/magazine/ could-conjoined-twins-share-a-mind.html? Donald, M. (1991). Origins of the modern mind: Three stages in the evolution of culture and cognition. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Earle, W. (1955). Objectivity: An essay on phenomenological ontology. New York, NY: The Noonday Press. Earle, W. E. (1972). The autobiographical consciousness. Chicago, IL: Quadrangle Books. Edelman, G. M., & Tononi, G. (2000). A universe of consciousness: How matter becomes imagination. New York, NY: Basic books. Ehlers, A., Hackmann, A., & Michael, T. (2004). Intrusive re-experiencing in post-traumatic stress disorder: Phenomenology, theory, and therapy. Memory (Hove, England), 12, 403–415. http://dx .doi.org/10.1080/09658210444000025 Ericsson, K. A., & Simon, H. A. (1985). Protocol analysis: Verbal reports as data. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press. Fivush, R., & Haden, C. A. (2003). Autobiographical memory and the construction of a narrative self. Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum. Fodor, J. A. (1983). Modularity of mind: An essay on faculty psychology. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Frankland, P. W., & Bontempi, B. (2005). The organization of recent and remote memories. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 6, 119–130. http://dx.doi .org/10.1038/nrn1607 Freeman, D., & Garety, P. A. (2003). Connecting neurosis and psychosis: The direct influence of emotion on delusions and hallucinations. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 41, 923–947. http:// dx.doi.org/10.1016/S0005-7967(02)00104-3 Freeman, W., & Watts, J. W. (1942). Psychosurgery. Springfield, IL: Charles C Thomas. Freeman, W., & Watts, J. W. (1946, June 29). Pain of organic disease relieved by prefrontal lobotomy. The Lancet, 247, 953–955. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1016/S0140-6736(46)91713-8 Freeman, W., & Watts, J. W. (1948). Psychosurgery for pain. Southern Medical Journal, 41, 1045–1049. http:// dx.doi.org/10.1097/00007611-194811000-00018 Frith, C. D. (1992). The cognitive neuropsychology of schizophrenia. East Sussex, England: Erlbaum/ Taylor & Francis. Fuster, J. M. (1999). Memory in the cerebral cortex: An empirical approach to neural networks in the human and nonhuman primate. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Gabrieli, J. D. E. (1998). Cognitive neuroscience of human memory. Annual Review of Psychology, 49, 372 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. 87–115. http://dx.doi.org/10.1146/annurev.psych .49.1.87 Gallagher, S., & Zahavi, D. (2008). The phenomenological mind. New York, NY: Routledge. Gendlin, E. (1962). Experiencing and the creation of meaning: A philosophical and psychological approach to the subjective. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press. Gerstmann, J. (1942). Problem of imperception of disease and of impaired body territories with organic lesions. Archives of Neurology & Psychiatry, 48, 890 –913. http://dx.doi.org/10.1001/archneur psyc.1942.02290120042003 Gertler, B. (2011). Self-knowledge. New York, NY: Routledge. Grahek, N. (2007). Feeling pain and being in pain. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Guralnik, O., Schmeidler, J., & Simeon, D. (2000). Feeling unreal: Cognitive processes in depersonalization. The American Journal of Psychiatry, 157, 103–109. http://dx.doi.org/10.1176/ajp.157.1.103 Hackmann, A., Ehlers, A., Speckens, A., & Clark, D. M. (2004). Characteristics and content of intrusive memories in PTSD and their changes with treatment. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 17, 231–240. http://dx.doi.org/10.1023/B:JOTS .0000029266.88369.fd Halligan, P. W., Marshall, J. C., & Wade, D. T. (1995). Unilateral somatoparaphrenia after right hemisphere stroke: A case description. Cortex, 31, 173–182. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/S00109452(13)80115-3 Hanson, N. R. (1958). Patterns of discovery: An inquiry into the conceptual foundations of science. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Hanson, N. R. (1971). Observation and explanation. San Francisco, CA: Harper & Row, Publishers. Hempel, C. (1965). Aspects of scientific explanation. New York, NY: Free Press. Hoerl, C. (2001). On thought insertion. Philosophy, Psychiatry, & Psychology, 8, 190–200. Hunter, E. C. M., Phillips, M. L., Chalder, T., Sierra, M., & David, A. S. (2003). Depersonalisation disorder: A cognitive-behavioural conceptualisation. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 41, 1451–1467. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/S0005-7967(03)00066-4 Hurlburt, R. T. (1990). Sampling normal and schizophrenic inner experience. New York, NY: Plenum Press. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/978-1-47570289-7 Hurlburt, R. T. (1993). Sampling inner experience in disturbed affect. New York, NY: Plenum Press. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4899-1222-0 Hurlburt, R. T., & Schwitzgebel, E. (2007). Describing inner experience? Proponent meets skeptic. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press. Husserl, E. (1964). The phenomenology of internal time-consciousness. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press. Jackson, F. (1986). What Mary didn't know. The Journal of Philosophy, 83, 291–295. JAMA. (1950). Lobotomy for relief of pain. Journal of the American Medical Association, 142, 35–36. http://dx.doi.org/10.1001/jama.1950 .02910190037010 James, W. (1890). Principles of psychology (Vol. 1). New York, NY: Henry Holt and Company. http:// dx.doi.org/10.1037/11059-000 Jaynes, J. (1976). The origin of consciousness in the breakdown of the bicameral mind. Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin. Jensen, M., & Patterson, D. R. (2006). Hypnotic treatment of chronic pain. Journal of Behavioral Medicine, 29, 95–124. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/ s10865-005-9031-6 Kant, I. (1998). The Cambridge edition of the works of Immanuel Kant; Critique of pure reason (P. Guyer & A. W. Wood, Trans.). New York, NY: Cambridge University Press. Klee, R. (1997). Introduction to the philosophy of science: Cutting nature at its seams. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Klein, S. B. (2010). The self: As a construct in psychology and neuropsychological evidence for its multiplicity. Wiley Interdisciplinary Reviews: Cognitive Science, 1, 172–183. Klein, S. B. (2012). The self and its brain. Social Cognition, 30, 474–518. http://dx.doi.org/10.1521/ soco.2012.30.4.474 Klein, S. B. (2013). Making the case that episodic recollection is attributable to operations occurring at retrieval rather than to content stored in a dedicated subsystem of long-term memory. Frontiers in Behavioral Neuroscience, 7, 3. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.3389/fnbeh.2013.00003 Klein, S. B. (2014a). The two selves: Their metaphysical commitments and functional independence. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Klein, S. B. (2014b). Sameness and the self: Philosophical and psychological considerations. Frontiers in Psychology, 5, 29. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.3389/fpsyg.2014.00029 Klein, S. B. (2014c). Autonoesis and belief in a personal past: An evolutionary theory of episodic memory indices. Review of Philosophy and Psychology, 5, 427– 447. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/ s13164-014-0181-8 Klein, S. B. (2015a). A defense of experiential realism: The need to take phenomenological reality on its own terms in the study of the mind. Psychology of Consciousness: Theory, Research, and Practice, 2, 41–56. 373PERSONAL OWNERSHIP OF MENTAL STATES T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. Klein, S. B. (2015b). What memory is. Wiley Interdisciplinary Reviews: Cognitive Science, 6, 1–38. http://dx.doi.org/10.1002/wcs.1333 Klein, S. B., Cosmides, L., Tooby, J., & Chance, S. (2002). Decisions and the evolution of memory: Multiple systems, multiple functions. Psychological Review, 109, 306 –329. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1037/0033-295X.109.2.306 Klein, S. B., & Gangi, C. E. (2010). The multiplicity of self: Neuropsychological evidence and its implications for the self as a construct in psychological research. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 1191, 1–15. http://dx.doi.org/10.1111/j .1749-6632.2010.05441.x Klein, S. B., & Nichols, S. (2012). Memory and the sense of personal identity. Mind, 121, 677–702. http://dx.doi.org/10.1093/mind/fzs080 Ladyman, J. (2002). Understanding philosophy of science. New York, NY: Routledge. http://dx.doi .org/10.4324/9780203463680 Lane, T. (2012). Toward an explanatory framework for mental ownership. Phenomenology and the Cognitive Sciences, 11, 251–286. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1007/s11097-012-9252-4 Lane, T. (2014). When actions feel alien-An explanatory model. In T.-W. Hung (Ed.), Communicative action (pp. 53–74). Singapore: Springer Science  Business Media. Larøi, F., & Woodward, T. S. (2007). Hallucinations from a cognitive perspective. Harvard Review of Psychiatry, 15, 109 –117. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1080/10673220701401993 Marcel, A. J., & Bisiach, E. (1988). Consciousness and contemporary science. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Margenau, H. (1950). The nature of physical reality. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill. Martin, C. B. (2008). The mind in nature. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Martin, J.-R., & Pacherie, E. (2013). Out of nowhere: Thought insertion, ownership and contextintegration. Consciousness and Cognition, 22, 111–122. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.concog.2012 .11.012 McGinn, C. (1991). The problem of consciousness: Essays toward a resolution. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishers. McGinn, C. (2004). Consciousness and its objects. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. http://dx .doi.org/10.1093/019926760X.001.0001 McGlynn, S. M., & Kaszniak, A. W. (1991). Unawareness of deficits in dementia and schizophrenia. In G. P. Prigatano & D. L. Schacter (Eds.), Awareness of deficit after brain injury: Clinical and theoretical perspectives (pp. 84–110). New York, NY: Oxford University Press. McGlynn, S. M., & Schacter, D. L. (1989). Unawareness of deficits in neuropsychological syndromes. Journal of Clinical and Experimental Neuropsychology, 11, 143–205. http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/ 01688638908400882 Medford, N., Sierra, M., Baker, D., & David, A. S. (2005). Understanding and treating depersonalisation disorder. Advances in Psychiatric Treatment, 11, 92–100. http://dx.doi.org/10.1192/apt.11.2.92 Midgley, M. (2014). Are you an illusion? New York, NY: Routledge. Mograbi, D. C., Brown, R. G., & Morris, R. G. (2009). Anosognosia in Alzheimer's disease-The petrified self. Consciousness and Cognition, 18, 989 –1003. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.concog .2009.07.005 Murphy, J. P. (1951). Frontal lobe surgery in treatment of intractable pain; a critique. The Yale Journal of Biology and Medicine, 23, 493–500. Nadel, L., & Moscovitch, M. (1997). Memory consolidation, retrograde amnesia and the hippocampal complex. Current Opinion in Neurobiology, 7, 217–227. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/ S0959-4388(97)80010-4 Nadel, L., & Peterson, M. A. (2013). The hippocampus: Part of an interactive posterior representational system spanning perceptual and memorial systems. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, 142, 1242–1254. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1037/a0033690 Nagel, T. (1974). What is it like to be a bat? The Philosophical Review, 83, 435–450. http://dx.doi .org/10.2307/2183914 Nagel, T. (2012). Mind & cosmos: Why the materialist neo-Darwinian conception of nature is almost certainly wrong. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. http://dx.doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/ 9780199919758.001.0001 Naya, Y., & Suzuki, W. A. (2011). Integrating what and when across the primate medial temporal lobe. Science, 333, 773–776. http://dx.doi.org/10.1126/ science.1206773 Nelson, K. (1989). Narratives from the crib. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Nemiah, J. C. (1962). The effect of leukotomy on pain. Psychosomatic Medicine, 24, 75–80. http:// dx.doi.org/10.1097/00006842-196201000-00012 Neuhouser, F. (1990). Fichte's theory of subjectivity. New York, NY: Cambridge University Press. http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511624827 Nielsen, J. M. (1938). Gerstmann syndrome: Finger agnosia, agraphia, confusion of right and left and acalculia. Archives of Neurology and Psychiatry, 39, 536 –559. http://dx.doi.org/10.1001/archneur psyc.1938.02270030114009 Nightingale, S. (1982). Somatoparaphrenia: A case report. Cortex, 18, 463– 467. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1016/S0010-9452(82)80043-9 Nisbett, R. E., & Wilson, T. D. (1977). Telling more than we can know: Verbal reports on mental pro374 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. cesses. Psychological Review, 84, 231–259. http:// dx.doi.org/10.1037/0033-295X.84.3.231 Phillips, M. L., Medford, N., Senior, C., Bullmore, E. T., Suckling, J., Brammer, M. J., . . . David, A. S. (2001). Depersonalization disorder: Thinking without feeling. Psychiatry Research, 108, 145– 160. Piolino, P., Desgranges, B., Manning, L., North, P., Jokic, C., & Eustache, F. (2007). Autobiographical memory: The sense of recollection and executive functions after severe traumatic brain injury. Cortex, 43, 176–195. Prebble, S. C., Addis, D. R., & Tippett, L. J. (2013). Autobiographical memory and sense of self. Psychological Bulletin, 139, 815–840. http://dx.doi .org/10.1037/a0030146 Prigatano, G. P., & Schacter, D. L. (Eds.). (1991). Awareness of deficit after brain injury. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Pryor, J. (1999). Immunity to error through misidentification. Philosophical Topics, 26, 271–304. http://dx.doi.org/10.5840/philtopics1999261/246 Race, E., Keane, M. M., & Verfaellie, M. (2011). Medial temporal lobe damage causes deficits in episodic memory and episodic future thinking not attributable to deficits in narrative construction. The Journal of Neuroscience, 31, 10262–10269. http://dx.doi.org/10.1523/JNEUROSCI.1145-11 .2011 Raz, M. (2009). The painless brain: Lobotomy, psychiatry, and the treatment of chronic pain and terminal illness. Perspectives in Biology and Medicine, 52, 555–565. http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/pbm .0.0121 Rescher, N. (1984). The limits of science. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Rescher, N. (1997). Objectivity: The obligations of impersonal reason. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press. Reutens, S., Nielsen, O., & Sachdev, P. (2010). Depersonalization disorder. Current Opinion in Psychiatry, 23, 278–283. http://dx.doi.org/10.1097/ YCO.0b013e3283387ab4 Robinson, D. N. (2008). Consciousness and mental life. New York, NY: Columbia University Press. Robinson, M. F., & Freeman, W. (1954). Psychosurgery and the self. New York, NY: Grune & Stratton. Rossman, N. (1991). Consciousness: Separation and integration. Albany, NY: SUNY Press. Rubins, J. L., & Friedman, E. D. (1948). Asymbolia for pain. Archives of Neurology and Psychiatry, 60, 554 –573. http://dx.doi.org/10.1001/archneur psyc.1948.02310060007002 Russell, B. (1992). Theory of knowledge. New York, NY: Routledge. (Original work published 1913) Russell, B. (1999). The problems of philosophy. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications. (Original work published 1912) Schilder, P., & Stengel, E. (1928). Schmerzasymbolie. Zeitschrift für die Gesamte Neurologie und Psychiatrie, 113, 143–158. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1007/BF02884496 Schilder, P., & Stengel, E. (1931). Asymbolia for pain. Archives of Neurology and Psychiatry, 25, 598–600. http://dx.doi.org/10.1001/archneurpsyc .1931.02230030156007 Shoemaker, S. (1968). Self-reference and selfawareness. The Journal of Philosophy, 65, 555– 567. http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/2024121 Shoemaker, S. (1984). Identity, cause and mind. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Sierra, M., Baker, D., Medford, N., & David, A. S. (2005). Unpacking the depersonalization syndrome: An exploratory factor analysis on the Cambridge Depersonalization Scale. Psychological Medicine, 35, 1523–1532. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1017/S0033291705005325 Sierra, M., & Berrios, G. E. (1997). Depersonalization: A conceptual history. History of Psychiatry, 8, 213–229. http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/ 0957154X9700803002 Simeon, D. (2004). Depersonalisation disorder. CNS Drugs, 18, 343–354. http://dx.doi.org/10.2165/ 00023210-200418060-00002 Simeon, D., & Abugel, J. (2006). Feeling unreal: Depersonalisation disorder and the loss of the self. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Squire, L. R. (2004). Memory systems of the brain: A brief history and current perspective. Neurobiology of Learning and Memory, 82, 171–177. http:// dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.nlm.2004.06.005 Stephens, G. L., & Graham, G. (2000). When selfconsciousness breaks: Alien voices and inserted thoughts. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press. Strawson, G. (2009a). Mental Reality (2nd ed.). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. http://dx.doi.org/10.7551/ mitpress/9780262513104.001.0001 Strawson, G. (2009b). Selves: An essay in revisionary metaphysics. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. http://dx.doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/ 9780198250067.001.0001 Talland, G. A. (1964). Self-reference: A neglected component in remembering. American Psychologist, 19, 351–353. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/ h0039768 Textor, M. (2013). Brentano on the dual relation of the mental. Phenomenology and the Cognitive Sciences, 12, 465– 483. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/ s11097-012-9281-z Tulving, E. (1983). Elements of episodic memory. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. 375PERSONAL OWNERSHIP OF MENTAL STATES T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y. Tulving, E. (1985). Memory and consciousness. Canadian Psychology/Psychologie canadienne, 26, 1–12. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/h0080017 Tulving, E. (2005). Episodic memory and autonoesis: Uniquely human? In H. S. Terrace & J. Metcalfe (Eds.), The missing link in cognition: Origins of self-reflective consciousness (pp. 3–56). Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780195161564.003.0001 Tulving, E., & Szpunar, K. K. (2012). Does the future exist? In B. Levine & F. I. M. Craik (Eds.), Mind and the frontal lobes: Cognition, behavior, and brain imaging (pp. 248–263). New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Vallar, G., & Ronchi, R. (2009). Somatoparaphrenia: A body delusion. A review of the neuropsychological literature. Experimental Brain Research, 192, 533–551. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/s00221-0081562-y Varela, F. J., Thompson, E., & Rosch, E. (1993). The embodied mind: Cognitive science and human experience. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press. Wallace, R. A. (2003). Choosing reality: A Buddhist view of physics and the mind. Ithaca, NY: Snow Lion Publications. Weber, M., & Weekes, A. (2009). Process approaches to consciousness in psychology, neuroscience, and philosophy of mind. Albany, NY: SUNY Press. Weiskrantz, L. (1997). Consciousness lost and found: A neuropsychological exploration. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Wheeler, M. A., Stuss, D. T., & Tulving, E. (1997). Toward a theory of episodic memory: The frontal lobes and autonoetic consciousness. Psychological Bulletin, 121, 331–354. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/ 0033-2909.121.3.331 Wittgenstein, L. (1958). The blue and brown books (Rush Rees, Ed.). New York, NY: Harper and Row. Zahavi, D. (2005). Subjectivity of selfhood: Investigating the first-person Perspective. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press. Zahavi, D. (2011). The experiential self: Objections and clarifications. In M. Siderits, E. Thompson, & D. Zahavi (Eds.), Self, no self: Perspectives from analytical phenomenological and Indian traditions (pp. 56 –78). Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Zahn, R., Talazko, J., & Ebert, D. (2008). Loss of the sense of self-ownership for perceptions of objects in a case of right inferior temporal, parietooccipital and precentral hypometabolism. Psychopathology, 41, 397–402. http://dx.doi.org/10.1159/ 000158228 Zemach, E. M. (1983). Memory: What it is, and what it cannot possibly be. Philosophy & Phenomenological Research, 44, 31– 44. http://dx.doi.org/ 10.2307/2107578 Received February 8, 2015 Revision received March 23, 2015 Accepted March 29, 2015  376 KLEIN T hi s do cu m en t is co py ri gh te d by th e A m er ic an Ps yc ho lo gi ca l A ss oc ia tio n or on e of its al lie d pu bl is he rs . T hi s ar tic le is in te nd ed so le ly fo r th e pe rs on al us e of th e in di vi du al us er an d is no t to be di ss em in at ed br oa dl y.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
ar X iv :1 41 0. 23 79 v2 [ cs .C Y ] 1 0 O ct 2 01 4 Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework for Surveying Users and Analyzing Policies Todd Davies⋆ Symbolic Systems Program and Center for the Study of Language and Information Stanford University Stanford, California 94305-2150 USA [email protected] http://www.stanford.edu/~davies Abstract. Interest has been revived in the creation of a "bill of rights" for Internet users. This paper analyzes users' rights into ten broad principles, as a basis for assessing what users regard as important and for comparing different multi-issue Internet policy proposals. Stability of the principles is demonstrated in an experimental survey, which also shows that freedoms of users to participate in the design and coding of platforms appear to be viewed as inessential relative to other rights. An analysis of users' rights frameworks that have emerged over the past twenty years similarly shows that such proposals tend to leave out freedoms related to software platforms, as opposed to user data or public networks. Evaluating policy frameworks in a comparative analysis based on prior principles may help people to see what is missing and what is important as the future of the Internet continues to be debated. 1 Introduction In March of 2014, on the 25th anniversary of the proposal that led to the World Wide Web, its author Tim Berners-Lee launched an initiative called the Web We Want campaign, which calls for "a global movement to defend, claim, and change the future of the Web" [33]. The object of the campaign is an online ⋆ To appear as: Todd Davies, "Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework for Surveying Users and Analyzing Policies," in Luca Maria Aiello and Daniel McFarland (eds.), Social Informatics: Proceedings of the 6th International Conference (SocInfo 2014), Barcelona, November 10-13, 2014, Springer LNCS. I would like to thank Laila Chima for assistance with the survey process, and Nathan Tindall for assistance with data analysis. I would also like to thank Jerome Feldman, Karl Fogel, Lauren Gelman, Rufo Guerreschi, Kaliya Hamlin, Dorothy Kidd, Geert Lovink, Mike Mintz, Brendan O'Connor, Doug Kensing, Steve Zeltzer, and the students who have taken Symsys 201 at Stanford for helpful discussions prior to the writing of this paper. Research costs were funded by the School of Humanities and Sciences at Stanford University. 2 Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework "Magna Carta," "global constitution," or "bill of rights" for the Web and its users, which Berners-Lee argued was needed because "the web had come under increasing attack from governments and corporate influence and that new rules were needed to protect the 'open, neutral' system" [17]. Although the weight of Berners-Lee's voice in calling for a users' "bill of rights" is a recent development, the idea of a comprehensive user rights framework has been floated by others previously (see section 3 below). With more limited scope, over the past three decades, many initiatives have emerged to promote particular rights, abilities, and influence for users over their online environments and data. Both codified and informal concepts such as Free Software [31], participatory design [16], Open Source software [25], Creative Commons [6] and free culture [18], data portability [8], and the DNT (Do Not Track) header [10] are attempts to establish and promote principles outside of public policy through which people can participate in the decisions that affect them as software users. Other concepts, such as the right to connect [2] and net neutrality [11] represent attempts to protect user rights and free access through public policy. This paper describes a broad set of principles guiding user freedom and participation, and relates these principles to past and ongoing initiatives introduced by others. 2 Rights, Freedoms, and Participation Principles We can analyze users' rights with reference to ten principles, which might be present (or not) to differing degrees in a particular software environment or policy framework. The principles below outline a framework for opinion assessment and comparative analysis rather than being intended as a policy proposal. It is important to keep in mind this distinction for what follows. The principles and the concepts defined in relation to them below were derived empirically from users' rights policy proposals, but they are not meant to be exhaustive in any sense.1 2.1 User Data Freedoms The first six of the principles (1-6) are amenable to adoption within a particular software platform or environment, which may be under either private or public ownership. Of these, the first three (1-3) pertain to the data generated by a given user, which are referred to in these descriptions as "their data." Principle 1. Privacy control. The user is able to know and to control who else can access their data. Some or all of the following concepts might appear in a privacy control policy. 1 Principles and concepts that lack citations in this section are referenced in the documents analyzed in Table 3, section 4.1. Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework 3 a) Originator-discretionary reading control. The user who generates data is able to read and to determine who else can read their data, and under what circumstances, and cannot have this ability taken away. Generated data may be created by the user deliberately, e.g. by filling out a form online or by posting a photograph, or it may be created as a byproduct of the user's behavior, such as click stream data or cookies from the user's browser that are read and stored on a site which they use. (Do Not Track initiatives are attempts to provide users with a partial form of this type of control [10].) b) Data use transparency. All policies and practices concerning the storage or transfer of a user's data are fully disclosed to the user prior to when the data are generated. This includes policies and practices of the software platform provider regarding the manner and length of time the user's data are stored. c) Usable privacy. Access and control by a user of their data is practically feasible for the user. Access should be straightforward enough to be practical, and privacy settings should be as clear and easy to use as possible, including for novice users [14]. d) Nonretention of data. User data are not retained without the consent of the user. Principle 2. Data Portability. The user is able to obtain their data and to transfer it to, or substitute data stored on, a compatible platform. Some or all of the following concepts might appear in a Data Portability policy, as defined by the Data Portability Project [8]. a) Free data access. The user of a software platform is able to (a) download or copy all of their data, (b) download or copy all of the other data on the platform to which the user has access, and (c) know where their data are being stored, i.e. in what real world location or legal jurisdiction. b) Open formats. The information necessary in order to read, interpret, and transfer data, i.e. application programming interfaces (APIs), data models, and data standards, are available to any user and are well documented. c) Platform independence. The user is able to access data while using a software platform independently of whether those data are stored within the platform or outside it in a compatible platform. Principles put forward in Data Portability policies that elaborate on this concept include the ability of the user to (a) authenticate or log in under an existing identity on another platform, (b) use data stored on another platform, (c) update their data on another platform and have the updates reflected in the platform in current use, (d) update their data on other platforms automatically by undating them on the platform in use, (e) share data stored on the platform in use with other platforms, and (f) specify the location or jurisdiction of storage for their data within the platform [34]. d) Free deletion. The user can delete their account and all of their data, and these data will be removed or erased from storage in that platform consistent with the meaning of a transparently provided definition of deletion. 4 Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework Principle 3. Creative control. The user is able to modify their data within the software platform being used, and to control who else can do so. Some or all of the following concepts might appear in a creative control policy. a) Originator-discretionary editing control. Subject to transparency requirements, the user who generates data is able to edit and to determine who else can edit their data, and under what circumstances, and cannot have this ability taken away. Transparency requirements such as visibly maintaining past versions and making their existence apparent to any user who can access a data item are safeguards against the abuse of editing, which could otherwise be used to alter the historical record. b) Authorial copyright support. The creator of content holds any legally allowed copyright over their data, and a user has the ability to prevent others who have access to their generated data from copying it for access by a third party who lacks access to the original. (This definition reflects an adaptation of traditional copyright for digital content, applying the Fair Use exemption to copying for private viewing by a party who already has authorized access.) c) Reciprocal data sharing. The user has the ability to permit people to copy (and possibly modify) their data for viewing by third parties subject to provisos such as the Attribution, Noncommercial, Share Alike, and No Derivatives requirements which can be imposed on the copying party in a Creative Commons license [6]. 2.2 Software Platform Freedoms Principles 4-6 pertain to the software platform in which users' data are created, edited, stored, and accessed. The descriptions of these principles distinguish different ways in which users may be able to participate in controlling, designing, and governing the operation of the software platform they use. Principle 4. Software freedom. The user is able to modify code in the software platform being used, subject to rights of other users to control their own experience of the platform. Some or all of the following concepts might appear in a software freedom policy. a) Open Source code. The source code that operates the software platform can be legally read, copied, downloaded, and modified by any user. Source code includes all the code that is necessary to operate the platform and to serve data to the user. (Open Source software is defined in the Open Source Definition [25].) b) Reciprocal code openness. The user and anyone else who modifies the platform's source code for use by others is legally bound to make their modified code available under licensing terms consistent with those under which the user legally accesses the source code. (This incorporates (a) the so-called Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework 5 "copyleft" provision of Free Software licenses such as the General Public License v.3, which require reciprocal sharing by anyone who distributes modified copies of the software to others in executable form [31], and sometimes also (b) the Affero clause in the Affero General Public License v.3, which requires that code modifications be reciprocally shared by anyone who executes their modified version of the source code in a networked environment (e.g. over the Web) for use by others [12].) c) User modifiable platform. The user of a software platform has the ability to modify the code on the platform they are using, as long as doing so does not interfere with the rights of other users to experience the platform and interact with their data as they desire. (In its full form, this is a demanding provision that is not usually satisfied in practical platforms, though it is often fulfilled in limited ways, e.g. by permitting a user-selected, configurable interface. This concept is an extension of the ideas in [31] to networked platforms.) Principles 1-4 are freedoms of individual users, which can be composed to define freedom for a community of users. Principles 5-6 are defined at the level of the group of users of a given software platform, which for each individual user means the freedom to participate in a collective process that determines the design and governance of a software and data environment. These last two freedoms allow for an especially large range of freedoms and participation mechanisms. Principle 5. Participatory design. The design of the platform is produced by all of its users. Some or all of the following concepts might appear in a participatory design policy [16, 29]. a) User-centered design. The needs and desires of users are the primary or sole factor driving the design. Users' needs may be assessed in various ways, e.g. through ethnographic observation, surveys, one-on-one interviews, and focus groups, that focus on the problems and goals of users at a functional level. b) User input to design. The users' preferences and beliefs about design choices are collected and influence the design of the platform. This type of input can include, for example, expressions of preference between different options that are presented by a designer. c) User-generated design. Users participate in the creation of design solutions as actual partners in the design team, e.g. providing ideas through brainstorming with designers and/or other users, and helping to solve design problems creatively. d) Customizable design. Users can individually or collectively redo or configure parts of the platform's design and this feature is itself part of the design. Principle 6. User self-governance. The operation of the platform is governed by all of its users. Some or all of the following concepts might appear in a user self-governance policy. Wikipedia self-governance implements all of these concepts in varying degrees [32]. 6 Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework a) Participatory policy making. Users are involved in creating and making decisions about the framework of rules and practices governing the platform they are using. (This can range from input on proposed policies, to voting, to full-fledged deliberative democracy online [9].) b) Participatory implementation. Users are involved in executing and enforcing the policies that govern the platform. (This can include forms of participation such as monitoring one's own compliance with policies, notifying other users of policy violations, raising and discussing implementation questions in online forums, and serving in defined roles.) c) Participatory adjudication. Users are involved in making judgments when human judgment (usually in a collective form) is a part of the platform's operation, e.g when a policy implementation question is in dispute. when content much be judged appropriate or not under defined criteria or procedures, or when the platform asks users for input in rendering a judgment or rating concerning user content. 2.3 Public Network Freedoms Principles 7-10 generally require public policy adoption, such as legislation, executive orders, or international agreements. Principle 7. Universal network access. Every person is legally and practically able, to the greatest extent possible, to access the Internet, and it is available everywhere in a form adequate for both retrieving and posting data. Some or all of the following concepts might appear in a universal network access policy. a) Right to connect. Internet access cannot be denied to a user or to a population of users wherever it is possible to provide access [2]. b) Universal digital literacy. Every person who possesses the intellectual ability to do so develops the skills to use the Internet as both a recipient and producer of information, to the maximal achievable for meaningful individual participation in a democracy. c) Noor low-cost service. Cost is not a barrier to accessing the Internet. d) Omnipresent service. The Internet is available everywhere and at all times. e) Accessibility. Internet access is available to everyone in a way that matches their physical and mental abilities. Principle 8. Freedom of information. Every person is legally and practically able to produce and receive information in the way that they want, to the maximal extent consistent with the rights of others. Some or all of the following concepts might appear in a freedom of information policy. a) Right to privacy. Private communications cannot be intercepted, monitored, or stored by governments or other entities without due process to establish a compelling public interest. Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework 7 b) Right to anonymous speech. Everyone is able to both receive and produce public information without being required to identify themselves, either implicitly or explicitly. c) Freedom from censorship. Free expression, without political restrictions, is protected both for producers and receivers of information. d) Open Access to all publicly funded data. Government data and that which is produced through publicly funded research is available freely to everyone. e) Democratically controlled security. Government security policies must be as transparent as possible to allow for them to be publicly debated, and those who oversee them must be accountable to everyone. f) Right to be forgotten. Everyone is able to have information about them made inaccessible to others when these data are determined by established procedures to be either no longer relevant or unfairly stigmatizing to their subject(s) [27]. Principle 9. Net neutrality. All providers of Internet connections and services are legally and practically required to treat data equally as it is transmitted through the infrastructure they control. Some or all of the following concepts might appear in a net neutrality policy. Disallowed forms of discrimination against data would include blocking data or charging fees in exchange for allowing it to be transmitted [11]. a) Source neutrality. Providers of network connections may not discriminate against data on the basis of its origin, e.g. another service provider or a particular social media platform. b) Format neutrality. Providers of network connections may not discriminate against data on the basis of its format, e.g. MIME type, protocol, or port. c) Content neutrality. Providers of network connections may not discriminate against data on the basis of its content, e.g. political expression with which the provider disagrees. d) End-user neutrality. Providers of network connections may not discriminate against data on the basis of the end user's identity. Principle 10. Pluralistic open infrastructure. Everyone has access to multiple independent but interoperating software platforms as options for their data. Some or all of the following concepts might appear in a pluralistic open infrastructure policy. a) Multiplicity of platforms. Policies ensure that all users have multiple software platforms to choose from as environments for their data. b) Decentralized control. Software platforms are coordinated to interoperate in a way that is not controlled by any one government, authority, or interest. c) Transparent control. Common infrastructure and standards are developed and documented in a way that is open and understandable to anyone. 8 Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework 3 A Survey of Internet Users To illustrate the use of this analysis framework for surveying users, a demonstration survey was conducted using Amazon Mechanical Turk in the summer of 2014. 3.1 Participants and Method A total of 780 survey takers completed a survey on the Qualtrics platform[24]. Each survey taker was shown a subset of the principles and concepts described in the framework of section 2, and asked to "rate [on a 0 to 10 scale, moved left or rigth from the midpoint] how important you think it is for the user of a software 'platform' (such as a website, app, operating system, or social network)" to have the particular right or freedom described in each statement they read.2 The statements consisted of the unparenthesized and unbracketed portions of each principle and concept in section 2, with the title of each excluded. Participants were told: "These statements describe what could be true in some situations or hypothetically, not necessarily what is true now or in some particular situation." The survey as designed assumed users were fluent in reading English, and able to understand digital concepts such as "data" and "software platform." Participants were recruited on the Amazon Mechanical Turk platform[1], with a link to the survey on Qualtrics. The survey was open only to U.S.-located respondents whose prior approval percentage by requestors on MTurk exceeded 98%. Participants were 39% female and 61% male. Respondents' reported age groups were 3% under 20, 41% 20-29, 33% 30-39, 12% 40-49, 8% 50-59, 3% 60-69, 0.4% 70-79, and 0% over 80. Thirteen percent reported being "very knowledgeable about digital rights and freedoms," while 72% reported being "somewhat knowledgeable" and 15% "not knowledgeable." The participant pool, while not representative of the population of the United States as a whole (let alone the world), nonetheless represents a population of interest: relatively sophisticated users who could be expected to have heard of at least some of the concepts in our framework. The intent was both to test whether users would have consistent views of these statements, and to assess relative levels of support for the principles and concepts in the framework within the young-skewing demographic of high functioning Internet users. Although we will not do it here, the gender, age group, and knowledge data could be used to adjust for sampling bias relative to the general population of users in the United States. (A more complete demographic analysis is planned in a future paper.) For this survey, participants randomly saw either a broad rating set consisting of a random ordering of all ten of the primary principles in the framework (a within-group comparison of the ten principles), or a narrow random ordering of a subset of principles and concepts that included one of the primary principles and its associated concepts (a between-groups comparison of the ten principles). 2 Survey materials and data for this study are published on the Harvard Dataverse Network at doi:10.7910/DVN/27510. Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework 9 This allowed for cross-item comparative and correlational analysis for both the ten principles and for the concepts associated with each principle along with that principle itself. Random assignment of participants into the broad or narrow rating sets created an experiment for testing whether average importance ratings for the ten principles would remain stable across these two rating contexts. 3.2 Survey Results The mean importance ratings from the narrow sets for each principle and concept, together with sample sizes and standard deviations, are shown in Table 1. Standard errors ranged from 0.2 to 0.4 and are easily calculated from the table. As can be seen from Table 1, highly rated primary principles tend to have highly rated associated concepts, but there are occasional deviations within principleconcept groupings. The concepts associated with data portability, for example, ranged widely in support, from a 6.61 rating for open formats (2b) to an 8.96 rating for free deletion (2d). Pluralistic open infrastructure, as worded in the principle, drew less support (6.84) than any of its three associated concept statements, which ranged from 7.24 to 8.27. Every principle and concept was rated significantly above the midpoint (and starting point) of 5.0 in this survey, indicating that participants on average regarded each of them as at least somewhat important. A full analysis of all of the principle-concept groups is beyond what we have room for in this paper, but Table 2 shows the basis for such an analysis of the ten primary principles. This table displays mean ratings first for the broad rating set – participants who rated all and only the primary principles – and compares them to the narrow set means. The aggregage means are simply the averages of the broad and narrow means. The correlation between the means of the withinand between-groups surveys is extremely high (.98), indicating that attitudes toward the principles are stable across these two different presentation contexts for this population. The most important primary principle in the eyes of participants was the statement that is labeled "privacy control" in section 2 (agg. mean 8.89), though again participants did not see the labels. Next highest were 7-universal access (8.49), 9-net neutrality (8.06), 8-freedom of information (7.94), and 2-data portability and 3-creative control (both 7.82). The remaining principles formed a less highly rated cluster: 10-pluralistic open infrastructure (6.69), 6-user selfgovernance (5.93), 4-software freedom (5.78), and 5-participatory design (5.30). Table 2 also shows correlations between the importance ratings of pairs of principles for participants in the broad rating set condition: those who rated all ten of the main principles instead of just one. All of the significant correlations, and most of the nonsignificant ones, are positive, indicating a general disposition for individuals to be more or less favorable to digital rights and freedoms. Ratings for the lowest rated principles (4 and 5) were significantly correlated, but ratings between principle 4 or 5 and the other principles tended not to be significant. In the set of correlations involving just one of principles 4 and 5, only 3 out of 14 were significant, whereas in the remaining correlations, 25 out of 30 were significant. Consistent with their low overall average ratings, this indicates that 10 Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework Table 1. Importance Ratings of Principles and Concepts (Narrow Rating Sets) Principle/Concept Mean (0-10) N Std. Dev. 1–Privacy control 8.69 71 1.9 1a Originator-discretionary reading control 7.96 71 2.2 1b Data use transparency 8.06 71 2.2 1c Usable privacy 8.58 71 1.7 1d Nonretention of data 8.65 71 1.7 2–Data Portability 7.90 69 1.7 2a Free data access 7.74 69 2.0 2b Open formats 6.61 68 2.5 2c Platform independence 6.71 68 2.3 2d Free deletion 8.96 69 1.5 3–Creative control 7.77 65 2.4 3a Originator-discretionary editing control 7.36 66 2.3 3b Authorial copyright support 7.65 66 2.5 3c Reciprocal data sharing 6.64 65 2.5 4–Software freedom 6.01 73 2.7 4a Open Source code 5.85 71 2.7 4b Reciprocal code openness 5.52 72 2.6 4c User modifiable platform 6.63 74 2.6 5–Participatory design 5.48 77 2.4 5a User-centered design 7.08 75 2.1 5b User input to design 6.83 77 1.9 5c User-generated design 6.16 76 2.5 5d Customizable design 6.36 77 2.2 6–User self-governance 5.82 63 2.7 6a Participatory policy making 6.30 64 2.5 6b Participatory implementation 6.01 66 2.6 6c Participatory adjudication † 7–Universal network access 8.40 82 1.9 7a Right to connect 8.56 82 1.7 7b Universal digital literacy 7.45 82 2.2 7c Noor low-cost service 8.27 82 2.2 7d Omnipresent service 8.43 82 2.0 7e Accessibility 7.12 80 2.8 8–Freedom of information 8.01 74 1.7 8a Right to privacy 8.72 74 1.9 8b Right to anonymous speech 7.39 74 2.3 8c Freedom from censorship 8.46 74 1.8 8d Open Access to publicly funded data 8.20 74 2.0 8e Democratically controlled security 8.12 74 1.9 8f Right to be forgotten 7.59 74 2.3 9–Net neutrality 8.11 61 2.5 9a Source neutrality 8.39 61 2.2 9b Format neutrality 7.42 61 2.5 9c Content neutrality 8.56 61 2.2 9d End-user neutrality 8.52 61 2.2 10–Pluralistic open infrastructure 6.84 70 2.1 10a Multiplicity of platforms 7.24 70 2.0 10b Decentralized control 8.27 70 1.8 10c Transparent control 7.97 70 1.8 † Ratings for 6c were not meaningful: incorrect wording on survey. Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework 11 Table 2. Comparing Importance Ratings of the Ten Principles Principle Broad Narrow Aggregate Correlations of Importance Ratings (Broad Set) Number Mean Mean Mean 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 1 9.09 8.69 8.89 0.50‡ 0.48‡ 0.02 -0.06 0.24 0.40‡ 0.66‡ 0.15 0.06 2 7.74 7.90 7.82 0.35‡ 0.08 0.05 0.31† 0.51‡ 0.66‡ 0.35‡ 0.36‡ 3 7.86 7.77 7.82 0.19 0.07 0.33† 0.22 0.48‡ 0.37‡ 0.13 4 5.55 6.01 5.78 0.36‡ 0.22 0.14 0.18 0.05 0.31† 5 5.12 5.48 5.30 0.55‡ -0.02 0.18 0.28† 0.50‡ 6 6.05 5.82 5.93 0.25† 0.37‡ 0.49‡ 0.43‡ 7 8.58 8.40 8.49 0.48‡ 0.26† 0.27† 8 7.86 8.01 7.94 0.36‡ 0.42‡ 9 8.02 8.11 8.06 0.43‡ 10 6.55 6.84 6.69 † denotes p < .05, and ‡ denotes p < .005. principles 4 and 5 are evaluated differently by users compared to the rest of the principles (p = .0001 by a Fisher exact test). 3.3 Survey Lessons The use of the framework in this survey has demonstrated that it is possible to obtain meaningful results about the relative importance that users attach to different digital rights and freedoms. Meaningfulness in this case is demonstrated by the nearly perfect consistency between average ratings in two different contexts. In the narrow rating set (between-groups rating of principles), participants considered only one primary principle and several other concepts that were chosen for their close relationship to the primary principle. In the broad set (withingroup rating of principles), participants saw all of the principles. These different contexts might have been thought to influence respondents differently. In terms of average ratings, that does not appear to happen in this population. A second finding, which we can see in Table 2, is that while most of the principles tend to be significantly correlated with each other, indicating that people who tend to favor users' rights under one principle tend to favor them under other principles, there are exceptions to this pattern. The tendency of a user to favor privacy control, data portability, or universal network access (all of which are highly correlated with each other) is not predictive of a high rating for participatory design or software freedom. Indeed, in the narrow rating set, the principles fell into two groupings, and the lowest rated principles were those most associated with user participation in the software environment. 4 Users' Rights Frameworks To illustrate the application of the principles to policy, we will analyze four policy frameworks that have been proposed over the past twenty years aimed at 12 Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework securing rights for users:3 (1) Rights and Responsibilities of Electronic Learners (RREL, 1994). An early framework was developed as part of this project within the American Association for Higher Education (AAHE), after extensive input from the education community, and was described by American University computer science professor Frank W. Connolly [4].4 (2) A Bill of Rights for Users of the Social Web (BRUSW, 2007). Social media engineer Joseph Smarr and colleagues [30] delineated a set of "fundamental rights" to which "all users of the social web are entitled." (3) Marco Civil da Internet (MCdI, 2014). In recent years, Brazil has taken the lead in initiatives to define a "constitution of the Internet." In March and April, 2014, Brazil's two legislative chambers each passed the Marco Civil da Internet (Civil Rights Framework for the Internet). The priority placed on the Marco Civil followed a 2013 United Nations speech by the country's president, Dilma Rousseff, who "presented proposals for a civilian multilateral framework for the governance and use of the Internet, capable of ensuring such principles as freedom of expression, privacy of the individual and respect for human rights, as well as the construction of inclusive and nondiscriminatory societies" [28, 19].5 (4) NETmundial Draft Outcome Document (NDOD, 2014). In its international role as a leader in recent Internet governance initiatives, Brazil was the host of the Global Multistakeholder Meeting on the Future of Internet Governance, also known as NETmundial, in April 2014. President Rousseff announced the meeting in October 2013, after revelations that the U.S. National Security Agency had monitored her phone calls and email messages [15], and the Draft Outcome Document was posted on the Web for open comment on April 14 [21].6 4.1 Comparison of Frameworks An analysis based on the framework of section 2 of each of the four texts yields the results in Table 3, where a location reference means that the principle or concept is clearly and substantially present (explicitly or implied) in the text, in a positive way (meaning that the concept is affirmed as a right); a blank entry means it is apparently not present; and a location reference followed by an asterisk "∗" indicates ambiguity about whether the concept is present or not. 3 For other users' rights framework proposals, see [7, 13, 23, 26]. 4 An earlier paper laying out the motivations and a procedure for drafting such a document was published in 1990 by Connolly, Gilbert, and Lyman [5]. 5 Reportedly, Article 12 was struck from the draft version before final passage [20]. 6 The Draft Document was refined on April 24, 2014, into a "Multistakholder Statement," [22] but the draft document is used here because it is annotated with section references for easier analysis. 7 Locations are coded as Article:Section as seen in [4]. 8 Locations are coded according to the inserted letters and roman numerals in the description of this framework above. 9 The Marco Civil applies only to Brazil, so the public freedoms (Principles 7-10) must be understood in that light. Locations are coded as Article[:Section] as seen in [19]. 10 Locations are coded by paragraph number, as shown at http://document. netmundial.br/1-internet-governance-principles/. Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework 13 Table 3. Analysis of Four Users' Rights Frameworks (see footnotes on previous page) Principle/Concept RREL7 BRUSW8 MCdI9 NDOD10 1–Privacy control 1a Originator-discretionary reading control I:3,IV:4 a,b 7:VII,8,10 1b Data use transparency I:3 b∗ 7 1c Usable privacy 1d Nonretention of data 15∗,16∗,17∗ 2–Data Portability 2a Free data access I:5∗ a∗,c∗ 2b Open formats i 2c Platform independence c,i,ii,iii 2d Free deletion I:5∗ b∗ 7:X 3–Creative control 3a Originator-discretionary editing control I:3,I:5 3b Authorial copyright support I:5 20∗ 3c Reciprocal data sharing 4–Software freedom 4a Open Source code 4b Reciprocal code openness 4c User modifiable platform 5–Participatory design 5a User-centered design 5b User input to design 5c User-generated design 5d Customizable design 6–User self-governance 6a Participatory policy making 6b Participatory implementation 6c Participatory adjudication 7–Universal network access 7a Right to connect I:1,IV:1 7:III 7,23 7b Universal digital literacy I:2 7:XI,19:VIII,27 23 7c Noor low-cost service 23 7d Omnipresent service 7:IV 10,11 7e Accessibility 25 6,23 8–Freedom of information 8a Right to privacy I:3,IV:2 7,8,10,11 5 8b Right to anonymous speech I:4 8c Freedom from censorship I:4 3 8d Open Access to publicly funded data 8e Democratically controlled security 10:IV∗ 8f Right to be forgotten 9–Net neutrality 9a Source neutrality 9 12∗ 9b Format neutrality 9 12∗ 9c Content neutrality 9 12∗ 9d End-user neutrality 9 12∗ 10–Pluralistic open infrastructure 10a Multiplicity of platforms III:1 19:VII+X 11 10b Decentralized control III:3 19:I-VI 13,15,16,19-22,24 10c Transparent control 17,25 14 Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework The table shows firstly that none of the frameworks covers all of the principles. But some are more comprehensive than others. While the RREL and MCdI frameworks span concepts in both the user data freedoms (principles 1-3) and public network freedoms (principles 7-10), the BRUSW and NDOD frameworks are more specialized. The BRUSW framework was put forward as a set of rights for social Web users, and is limited to user data freedoms. The NDOD framework, on the other hand, is a global Internet governance initiative that seeks only to regulate at the international level. RREL and MCdI span two regions of the table for different reasons. RREL was an early and somewhat more vague attempt to establish principles that might apply either to public policy or to users of a specific platform. MCdI, on the other hand, is a draft law for a specific jurisdiction (Brazil) with authority to regulate software platforms that are subject to the country's laws, so that it may limit the freedom of platforms in the course of regulating at a national level. None of the four frameworks analyzed above (or the additional ones referenced in footnote 3) include provisions that appear to enact what are herein called software platform freedoms (principles 4-6). It appears, from these data, that giving users power over their software environment, through software freedom, participatory design, and user self-governance, are not strong values among those who have constructed these frameworks. These were also the lowest rated three principles in the survey reported in section 3. 4.2 Benefits of an Analysis Framework The principles and concepts of section 2 comprise an analysis framework, as opposed to the policy frameworks analyzed in Table 3. An analysis framework of this kind gives us the following types of leverage for understanding users' rights policies: (a) it allows for easier comparison across frameworks; (b) it allows us to see what is missing from a particular policy framework; (c) it facilitates further study of the dimensions that characterize users' rights, e.g. surveys of users and policy makers to determine strengths of priority for different freedoms; and (d) it allows us to see persistent gaps across policy frameworks, such as the apparent lack of attention to software platform freedoms (principles 4-6). 5 Conclusion The current moment is one of revival for the idea of a "bill of rights" or "constitution" for users online. On one hand, some observers have expressed skepticism about the feasibility of this concept, particularly at the International level (e.g. [3]). On the other hand, the growing control as well as documented instances of misuse of power by governments appear to have fed this new level of interest on the part of figures such as Tim Berners-Lee and Dilma Rousseff. Whether this will translate into lasting change remains to be seen. But there remain many levels at which policies can be adopted, from particular software platforms and small online communities to the entire world. Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework 15 It seems likely that discussions about the principles that govern Internet users will continue to pick up steam in the years ahead, and, if the history of other major shifts in civilization is a guide, the process will lag technological change considerably. If many people think carefully about the principles they want to govern their own use of the Internet, articulate those principles, and invoke them in discussing policy proposals, we may have a better chance of arriving at arrangements that satisfy most users and that meet the needs of contemporary societies. References 1. Amazon Mechanical Turk, http://www.mturk.com 2. Cerf, V.: The Right to Connect and Internet Censorship. New Perspectives Quarterly. 29(2), 18-23 (2012) 3. Clark, J.: Internet Users Bill of Rights: DOA. The Data Center Journal. 13 March (2014), http://www.datacenterjournal.com/it/ internet-users-bill-rights-doa/ 4. Connolly, F.W.: Who Are Electronic Learners? Why Should We Worry About Them? Change. 26(2), 39-41 (1994) 5. Connolly, F., Gilbert, S.W., Lyman, P. A Bill of Rights for Electronic Citizens. OTA, Washington, DC (1990) 6. Creative Commons, http://creativecommons.org 7. Curtis, R.: A Software User's Bill of Rights Draft 1, http://www.princeton.edu/ ~rcurtis/softrights.html 8. Data Portability Project, http://dataportability.org 9. Davies, T., Gangadharan, S.P. (eds.): Online Deliberation: Design, Research, and Practice. CSLI Publications, Stanford (2009) 10. Do Not Track, http://donottrack.us 11. Economides, N.: "Net Neutrality," Non-Discrimination, and Digital Distribution of Content Through the Internet. I/S: A Journal of Law and Policy. 4, 209-233 (2008) 12. GNU Affero General Public License. Version 3, 19 November (2007), http://www. gnu.org/licenses/agpl-3.0.html 13. Karat, C.M.: The Computer User's Bill of Rights. (1988), http://theomandel. com/resources/users-bill-of-rights 14. Karat, C.M., Brodie, C., Karat, J.: Usable Privacy and Security for Personal Information Management. Comm. ACM 49(1), 56-57 (January 2006) 15. Kelion, L.: Future of the Internet Debated at NETmundial in Brazil. BBC News, 22 April (2014), http://www.bbc.com/news/technology-27108869 16. Kensing, F., Blomberg, J.: Participatory Design: Issues and Concerns. CSCW. 7, 165-185 (1998) 17. Kiss, J.: An Online Magna Carta: Berners-Lee Calls for Bill of Rights for Web. The Guardian, 11 March (2014) 18. Lessig, L.: Free Culture: The Nature and Future of Creativity. Penguin, New York (2005) 19. English Translation of the New Version of Brazil's Marco Civil, http:// infojustice.org/archives/31272 20. Mari, A.: Brazil Passes Groundbreaking Internet Governance Bill. ZDNet, 26 March (2014), http://www.zdnet.com/ brazil-passes-groundbreaking-internet-governance-bill-7000027740 16 Digital Rights and Freedoms: A Framework 21. NETmundial Draft Outcome Document. 14 April (2014), http://document. netmundial.br/ 22. NETmundial Multistakeholder Statement. 24 April (2014), http://netmundial. br/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/NETmundial-Multistakeholder-Document.pdf 23. O'Reilly, D.: Time to Update the Software User's Bill of Rights. 29 December (2009), http://www.cnet.com/news/ time-to-update-the-software-users-bill-of-rights 24. Qualtrics: Online Survey Software and Insight Platform, http://www.qualtrics. com 25. Parens, B.: The Open Source Definition. In DiBona, C., Ockman, S., Stone, M. (eds.) Open Sources: Voices From the Open Source Revolution. O'Reilly, Sebastopol, CA (1999) 26. Patrianakos, B.: The Internet User's Bill of Rights. (2014), http:// userbillofrights.org/ 27. Rosen, J.: The Right to Be Forgotten. Stanford Law Rev. Online. 64, 88 (February 13, 2012) 28. H.E. Mrs. Dilma Rousseff, President. 24 September (2013) http://gadebate.un. org/68/brazil/ 29. Schuler, D., Namioka, A. (eds.): Participatory Design: Principles and Practices. Lawrence Erlbaum Associates (1993) 30. Smarr, J., Canter, M., Scoble, R., Arrington, M.: A Bill of Rights for Users of the Social Web (2007), http://the.networkingur.us/post/2007/09/05/ A-Bill-of-Rights-for-Users-of-the-Social-Web 31. Stallman, R.: Free Software, Free Society: Selected Essays of Richard M. Stallman. Free Software Foundation, Cambridge, MA (2002) 32. Viégas, F.B., Wattenberg, M, McKeon, M.M. The Hidden Order of Wikipedia. In Schuler, D. (ed.) Online Communities and Social Computing. LNCS, vol. 4564. pp. 445-454. Springer, Heidelberg (2007) 33. Web We Want, https://webwewant.org 34. Your Portability Policy, https://web.archive.org/web/20120126204316/http: //portabilitypolicy.org/sample-policies.html
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
History of PHilosoPHy Quarterly Volume 32, Number 4, October 2015 353 RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS: THE PATIENT-CENTERED GROUNDS OF KANT'S DUTY OF HUMANITY Tyler Paytas 1. iNtroductioN Over the course of the past several decades, Kant scholars have made significant headway in showing that emotions play a more significant role in Kant's ethics than has traditionally been assumed. Closer attention has been paid to the Metaphysics of Morals (MS)1 where Kant provides important insights about the value of moral sentiments and the role they should play in our lives. One particularly important discussion occurs in sections 34 and 35 of the Doctrine of Virtue where Kant claims we have a duty to use sympathetic feelings "as a means of promoting active and rational benevolence" (MS 6:457). Kant labels this the "duty of humanity," and he suggests that nature has implanted sympathetic feelings in us "to do what the representation of duty alone might not accomplish" (ibid.). Commentators have rightly highlighted these remarks as prime evidence that feelings do play a positive role in Kant's ethics after all. Yet, while we know that feelings such as sympathy have a role to play in Kant's ethics, it is not obvious exactly what this role is or in what the value of sympathy consists. Two different views on this issue have emerged in the literature. According to what we can call the motivational account, we have a duty to cultivate sympathetic feelings because we sometimes need them to be motivated to perform beneficent actions. On another popular interpretation, sympathy is valued for the epistemic role it plays in helping us fulfill duties of beneficence. The suggestion is that we have a duty to cultivate sympathetic feelings because they alert us to the suffering of others, and they allow us to recognize more easily the sort of help that is needed. Call this the epistemic account.2 What these views share in common is that they focus primarily on the psychology of moral agents. As a moral agent, I have a duty to culHPQ 32_4 text.indd 353 7/8/15 1:54 PM 354 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY tivate sympathy because, without it, I might either fail to be motivated to help or lack important knowledge of when and how to help. Although there are reasonable grounds for holding either view, both are subject to considerable worries. In brief, while the motivational account seemingly runs counter to Kant's views about autonomy and purity of will, the epistemic account either rests on a faulty conception of sympathetic feelings, or it too stands in tension with central Kantian doctrines. Further, even if the tension between these accounts and other aspects of Kant's ethics can be resolved, neither view explains why sympathy is important even for agents who are otherwise fully virtuous-something we should expect to be accounted for by an ethical theory. In light of these concerns, I believe that, in order to understand fully the Kantian value of sympathy, we must shift our focus away from the psychology of moral agents and toward the emotional needs of moral patients. In this paper, I argue that the Kantian duty to cultivate and use sympathetic feelings is grounded (at least partly) in the fact that receiving expressions of sympathy from others is an important human need. Due to our animal nature, conduct motivated by duty alone will not always be effective in promoting the happiness of others. This is because physical and financial assistance (which do not require feelings) are often insufficient for relieving human suffering. It is part of human nature to need an emotional connection with others-especially during periods of grief, loneliness, and depression. Thus, even if moral agents never need sympathetic feelings to be motivated to try to help others, sympathetic feelings are often necessary for succeeding in our attempts to help. The discussion proceeds as follows. In sections 2 and 3, I explicate the two traditional accounts of the Kantian value of sympathy, and I argue that neither view is sufficiently compelling. Then, in section 4, I put forth what I call the patient-centered account of the Kantian value of sympathy. I provide textual evidence in support of the view, and I explain the advantages it has over rival accounts. In section 5, I suggest that the patient-centered account has the further merit of solving an interpretive puzzle arising from Kant's discussion of the "four moral endowments" in his introduction to the Doctrine of Virtue. A brief conclusion follows. 2. the motivAtioNAl AccouNt In Chapter 1 of Part 2 of the Doctrine of the Elements of Ethics, Kant distinguishes three different duties of love: beneficence, gratitude, and sympathy. In section 34, he provides a lengthy exposition of the duty of sympathy. Under the heading Sympathetic feeling is generally a duty, Kant writes, s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 354 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 355 Sympathetic joy and sadness (sympathia moralis) are sensible feelings of pleasure or displeasure (which are therefore to be called "aesthetic") at another's state of joy or pain (shared feeling, sympathetic feeling). Nature has already implanted in human beings receptivity to these feelings. But to use this as a means to promoting active and rational benevolence is still a particular, though only a conditional, duty. It is called the duty of humanity (humanitas) because a human being is regarded here not merely as a rational being but also as an animal endowed with reason. (MS 6:457) This passage raises a host of important questions. Why is there a duty to use sympathetic feelings to promote active and rational benevolence? What purpose do such feelings serve? How exactly are we to use our sympathetic feelings? Why does Kant refer to the duty to use them as the duty of humanity, and why is this only a conditional duty? To the question of the usefulness of sympathetic feelings for promoting active and rational benevolence, an initially tempting answer is that such feelings play an important motivational role. It is all too common to lack the motivation to help others despite awareness that this is what duty requires. Some commentators interpret Kant as claiming that the value of sympathy consists in its ability to motivate us to fulfill our duties when we are unmoved by representation of duty alone.3 Although the fully virtuous agent never needs sympathetic feelings in order to be motivated to obey the moral law, Kant certainly recognizes that each individual's quest to become fully virtuous is an ongoing struggle (MS 6:409, 6:446; Rel 6:47–49). Perhaps we have a duty to use sympathetic feelings as a means of promoting beneficence precisely because our capacity always to be sufficiently moved by recognition of duty is not yet fully developed. The motivational account is made tempting by remarks found in several of Kant's texts. For instance, after positing a duty to cultivate and use sympathetic feelings in section 35 of the Doctrine of Virtue, Kant remarks that "this [sharing painful feelings] is still one of the impulses that nature has implanted in us to do what the representation of duty alone might not accomplish" (MS 6:457). It is not unreasonable to read this as a claim that we should cultivate our natural sympathy precisely because duty is not always a sufficient incentive. Moreover, the idea that sympathetic feelings have the positive effect of motivating beneficence when duty fails to is not unique to the Doctrine of Virtue. Kant makes similar remarks in "Observations of the Feeling of the Beautiful and Sublime" (Obs 2:218), "The End of All Things" (ED 8:337–38), and Anthropology from a Pragmatic Point of View (A 7:253). In Anthropology, Kant writes, __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 355 7/8/15 1:54 PM 356 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY Nevertheless, the wisdom of nature has planted in us the predisposition to compassion in order to handle the reins provisionally, until reason has achieved the necessary strength; that is to say, for the purpose of enlivening us, nature has added the incentive of pathological (sensible) impulse to the moral incentives for the good, as a temporary surrogate of reason. (A 7:253) The fact that Kant reiterates this point about the positive motivational role played by sympathetic feelings in multiple works spanning three decades lends plausibility to the motivational account. 2.1 Autonomy and Impurity Although it is sensible to infer from these passages that the duty to cultivate and use sympathetic feelings arises from our motivational needs, there are important objections to the motivational account. Marcia Baron persuasively argues that the motivational account is incompatible with Kant's theory of freedom. The worry is that deliberately cultivating feelings and inclinations because one believes the objective law is an insufficient incentive seemingly amounts to a denial of autonomy. As Baron explains, Once I regard the motive of duty as less than a fully sufficient incentive (or even as potentially sufficient, but as not fully compelling unless it coincides with my own interest or with some inclination), I call into question the supremacy of morality. Once I search for cooperating inclinations, I will scarcely be able to maintain the belief that moral considerations always trump any competing considerations. For insofar as I adopt a policy of seeking assistance from the inclinations, I in effect allow that moral considerations are not fully compelling, motivationally; but if they are not fully compelling motivationally, presumably they are not fully compelling, period. I will end up asking myself, "It's obligatory, and that carries some weight; but what other reasons are there for doing it?" (1995, 155) In addition to this point about autonomy, Baron (1995, 219) raises the further (somewhat related) worry that actively seeking out the assistance of feelings and inclinations for the purpose of motivation is to advocate impurity of the will. In Religion, Kant remarks that impurity consists in an agent's needing other incentives besides the law to fulfill her duties (Rel 6:30). Thus, it would seem that an agent who seeks to cultivate sympathy because she does not believe representation of duty will always be a sufficient incentive is moving away from virtue and in the direction of impurity. These points suggest that Kant should not be read as claiming we ought to cultivate sympathy because we need it for motivation to fulfill our duties.s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 356 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 357 Although these worries are serious, there is an avenue of response available for proponents of the motivational account. There does indeed seem to be something problematic about an agent seeking nonrational sources of motivation to perform a required action at a particular time. But it is not as clear that there is anything wrong with cultivating feelings as a back-up motivation due to fear that there might be times in the future when recognition of duty will fail to motivate. To suspect that I might knowingly transgress the law at some future point in time need not undermine my belief that I am free. It could just be an acknowledgment that I am not fully virtuous and that I do not expect that to change anytime soon (though I shall continue to strive). Given that Kant is explicit that no one is fully virtuous (MS 6:409) and that no rational finite being attains moral perfection in this life (KpV 5:122), it is hard to see how we could rationally believe that duty will always move us. Further, it is somewhat misleading to describe an agent who cultivates feelings to compensate for moral deficiency as "advocating" impurity of will. When we try to make ourselves more sympathetic so that we will be less tempted by self-interested inclinations, we need not view ourselves as cultivating or championing impurity. A more charitable description is that we are conscientiously responding to the fact that we are already impure. Indeed, Kant's discussion of impurity in Religion is not a warning about how we might end up, but rather a regretful description of our current state. It is open to Baron to respond to these points by suggesting that, given our inherent impurity, we must strive that much harder to make ourselves such that duty is always a sufficient incentive and that actively seeking out feelings as a source of moral motivation might undermine this striving. Still, in light of the preceding discussion, it is uncertain whether the motivational account fails for the reasons Baron offers. 2.2 Sympathy and Full Virtue Even if cultivating feelings as a source of motivation is compatible with autonomy and striving for purity of will, there is another worry for the motivational account. The problem is that the view fails to explain why sympathy would be valuable even for an agent who is otherwise fully virtuous. If the value of sympathetic feelings consists solely in their ability to motivate agents who fail to be moved by representation of duty, then a fully virtuous individual would have no need for them. This is a counterintuitive result. Most of us share the intuition that sympathetic feelings would be valuable even for the morally strongest among us. This might not seem like a problem given that no human being is fully virtuous. But even acknowledging this point, the motivational account has __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 357 7/8/15 1:54 PM 358 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY the counterintuitive implication that the greater one's virtue, the less important it is for her to have a well-cultivated capacity for sympathy. Proponents of the motivational account may be unmoved by this worry because there is evidence that the fully virtuous Kantian agent would have no need for sympathetic feelings. Indeed, there are passages that suggest that Kant believes the virtuous agent would be better off without feelings and inclinations. A particularly noteworthy passage is found in the second Critique. In discussing the relative merit of actions performed from feelings rather than duty, Kant writes, Inclination is blind and servile, whether it is kindly or not; and when morality is in question, reason must not play the part of mere guardian to inclination but, disregarding it altogether, must attend solely to its own interest as pure practical reason. Even this feeling of compassion and tender sympathy, if it precedes consideration of what is duty and becomes the determining ground, is itself burdensome to right-thinking persons, brings their considered maxims into confusion, and produces the wish to be freed from them and subject to lawgiving reason alone. (KpV 5:118) Though this passage might appear to indicate that Kant rejects the notion that feelings have value even for virtuous agents, I do not believe this is the conclusion we should draw. The first thing to note about this passage is the phrase "when morality is in question" in the first sentence. A few sentences prior to these remarks Kant stresses the contrast between legality and morality. By "legality," Kant means permissibility. Thus, "morality" in this context does not refer to morally permissible actions but rather moral worth (that is, a unique type of moral value that merits esteem). In light of this, what Kant seems to be saying is that, if our actions are to have moral worth, duty must be the subjective determining ground. But this is not to say that we should never be moved by feelings of sympathy. While it is true that the virtuous agent possesses a good will that she demonstrates by fulfilling duties from the motive of duty, this does not mean that all of her conduct is done from duty; we do not maximize our virtue by maximizing the number of morally worthy actions we perform. Thus, the fact that actions from feeling lack moral worth does not suggest that the virtuous Kantian agent has no need for sympathy. What of Kant's claim that sympathy "is itself burdensome to rightthinking persons, brings their considered maxims into confusion, and produces the wish to be freed from them and subject to lawgiving reason alone"? Kant is certainly right that sympathy can be burdensome. For one thing, it leaves us vulnerable to pain and suffering that we would otherwise avoid. Moreover, sympathy can sometimes make it difficult to s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 358 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 359 recognize our duty such as in situations in which people who stand in different relations to us have different types of needs. When deliberating in such cases, we may indeed wish to be rid of our feelings so that we could more easily recognize our duty and be confident that we are doing the right thing. Despite the fact that we sometimes wish to be rid of feelings and inclinations, Kant does not believe the fulfillment of such wishes would be a good thing. In Religion, he warns against trying to eliminate inclinations: "Considered in themselves natural inclinations are good, i.e. not reprehensible, and to want to extirpate them would not only be futile but harmful and blameworthy as well; we must rather only curb them, so that they will not wear each other out but will instead be harmonized into a whole called happiness" (Rel 6:58). Moreover, as we have seen, Kant explicitly advocates the cultivation and utilization of sympathetic feelings in the Doctrine of Virtue (MS 6:457). These remarks tell against the suggestion that the ideal Kantian agent is altogether devoid of feelings such as sympathy. In light of this point and the fact that common moral consciousness suggests that a virtuous agent should not be lacking in sympathy, it is worth considering alternative accounts of the Kantian value of sympathy that, unlike the motivational account, might be able to accommodate this idea.4 2.3 Motivation and Imperfect Duties Before turning to alternative proposals, there is a variant of the motivational account that merits our attention. Although Baron rejects the motivational account in its common guise, she advocates a variation of the view that could potentially explain why even the virtuous Kantian agent needs sympathy. Baron claims that, while sympathetic feelings should not play a motivational role in the fulfillment of perfect duties, they are necessary for motivating us to fulfill imperfect duties. Helping others is an imperfect duty because, although we are required to help, we are not required to try to help everyone who needs it at all times.5 Baron believes that the nature of imperfect duties makes it impossible to fulfill them from duty alone: "Insofar as we are not required to help this person rather than that person, or on this occasion rather than another, my choice to help this person will be based on considerations other than, or in addition to, duty" (1995, 163). Thus, sympathetic feelings play an important role for Kant because they prompt us to help others even when doing so is not strictly required.6 This could explain why even an otherwise fully virtuous agent would need a well-cultivated capacity for sympathy. The problem with this alternative version of the motivational account is that it is far from obvious that we are unable to fulfill imperfect duties __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 359 7/8/15 1:54 PM 360 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY from duty as primary motive. Baron provides an example of an agent who has an opportunity to help an elderly and ailing neighbor with her laundry (1995, 120). I believe that actions of this kind, though imperfect duties, can be done from the motive of duty. Consider Kant's example from the Groundwork of a man who is cold and indifferent to the suffering of others, yet has a high degree of reverence for the moral law (G 4:398). Despite his lack of sympathy, this man could still be motivated to do his elderly neighbor's laundry, even though he is not strictly required to do so. When the man sees his neighbor carrying her laundry, he realizes that it has been some time since he has fulfilled his imperfect duty to help others. Although he feels no sympathy for his neighbor and he knows that it would be permissible to skip this opportunity to help, he senses that he has skipped too many opportunities to help lately and that to skip this one too could potentially lead to an immoral habit of always putting off his imperfect duties. Thus, purely out of respect for the moral law, the man offers to assist his neighbor. I thus believe that the motivational account (in either of its guises) is a less than compelling explanation for the Kantian value of sympathy. What the account gets right is that sympathy often does motivate us when duty fails to and, all things considered, we should be glad that we are endowed with this motivational backup. But the suggestion that we should try to cultivate our capacity for sympathy because of our inherent lack of moral strength remains controversial. Further, the view also suffers from the weakness of being unable to explain why sympathy would be valuable even for an otherwise fully virtuous agent. Insofar as this suggestion runs counter to widely shared judgments about the importance of sympathy, it is worth considering alternative accounts to see if they can render Kant's ethics more compatible with common intuition without deviating from core Kantian doctrine. 3. the ePistemic AccouNt Some commentators read Kant as claiming that the value of sympathy is epistemic. The idea is that sympathetic feelings are important because they alert agents to the suffering of others and help them see what type of support is needed. Unlike the motivational account, the epistemic account does not gain its plausibility from direct textual evidence. Kant never claims (at least not explicitly) that sympathetic feelings are a means of acquiring information. Rather, the epistemic account is an inference to the best explanation for why a philosopher who so often downplays the importance of sentiments-especially as a source of moral motivation-would posit a duty to cultivate and use sympathetic feelings. The suggestion offered by proponents of the epistemic account is that s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 360 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 361 Kant sees these feelings as an effective means of acquiring practically useful information. As Nancy Sherman remarks, "If we have a practical interest in the moral law and its spheres of justice and virtue, we still require the pathological emotions to know when and where these ends are appropriate" (1990, 159).7 Importantly, the claim that sympathetic feelings are valuable for epistemic purposes does not in any way conflict with Kant's vigorous rejection of sentimentalism. Not only does the epistemic account explain the Kantian value of sympathy in a way that is consistent with Kant's rationalist account of moral motivation, the thought that sympathetic agents possess epistemic advantages vis-à-vis individuals lacking in fellow feeling is plausible in itself. Sympathetic agents are more likely to appreciate the emotional needs of others, and they also seem to recognize more of the morally salient features of a given situation. As Anne Margaret Baxley observes, the agent with properly cultivated sympathy "sees certain features and circumstances of the lives of others to which he might otherwise remain blind or ignorant. He sees, for instance, that people can be harmed in countless ways, large and small, often undeservedly, and in ways they cannot prevent or control" (2010, 165). The thought that sympathetic feelings are a useful source of information seems especially plausible when we consider cases in which another person is distressed by some event that would not cause similar pain if it happened to the agent in position to help. For instance, even if you are not the type of person who is upset by biting criticism of your work, if you have well-cultivated sympathetic feelings, you will likely recognize that your colleague needs emotional support when she receives harsh feedback.8 These considerations illustrate the attractiveness of the epistemic account. But, to assess its merit properly, we must explore the specifics of the view. There are at least two different ways we might understand the proposal that the value of sympathetic feelings is epistemic. One possibility is that the feelings themselves are a type of perceptual capacity. The suggestion would be that the sympathetic feelings I have for an individual at a given time can alert me to the fact that he needs my help and also make me aware of how I can help. Though I believe this idea is implied in some of the discussions from proponents of the epistemic account, I do not believe it withstands critical scrutiny. While there does seem to be a correlation between experiencing sympathetic feelings and recognizing the emotional pain of others, it would be a mistake to infer that these feelings are the cause of the recognition. It is much more plausible that we feel sympathy for others only after we become aware of their pain. The "perceptual faculty" version of the epistemic account implies that sympathetic feelings must somehow arise __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 361 7/8/15 1:54 PM 362 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY in an agent prior to any cognitive awareness of that person's pain. But it is hard to see how this might be true. How could I feel sympathy for a person in pain prior to coming to believe that she is in pain? Further, the notion that sympathetic feelings are a direct source of knowledge of how to help is also implausible. When we feel pain for others, we do not literally have the same experience they are having. I can certainly feel sympathy for a friend who is undergoing a painful divorce. But the pain I feel when I witness his distress does not by itself give me any special insight into the type of support needed by someone in his circumstances. In addition to these conceptual points, there is also textual evidence that Kant does not view sympathetic feelings as a faculty of perception. In the Doctrine of Virtue, Kant defines the sympathetic feelings we have a duty to use as "sensible feelings of pleasure or displeasure (which are therefore to be called 'aesthetic') at another's state of joy or pain (shared feeling, sympathetic feeling)" (MS 6:456). In an earlier discussion from the same text, Kant makes it clear that feelings of pleasure and displeasure should not be confused for a means of perceiving. Remarking on the susceptibility to feel pleasure from awareness that our actions are consistent with duty (which he calls "moral feeling") Kant writes, "It is inappropriate to call this feeling a moral sense, for by the word 'sense' is usually understood a theoretical capacity for perception directed toward an object, whereas moral feeling (like pleasure and displeasure in general) is something merely subjective, which yields no cognition" (MS 6:400). Although the moral feeling Kant refers to here is something distinct from sympathy, we can assume that he would object to thinking of sympathetic feelings as a capacity for perception for the same reason (that is, that subjective feelings of pleasure and displeasure do not yield cognition). Though these considerations undermine the plausibility of the "perceptual faculty" version of the epistemic account, there is a way of specifying the view so that it is not vulnerable to these worries. On this alternative formulation, sympathetic feelings provide practically useful knowledge indirectly. The suggestion is that such feelings motivate us to engage in conversations with suffering individuals, and, through these conversations, we gain valuable insights about their experience. This not only facilitates beneficence toward the individual with whom we are presently conversing, but it also helps us more easily recognize the needs of others facing similar circumstances in the future.9 While this suggestion is certainly reasonable, it runs into a familiar problem. The idea that communicating with a suffering individual provides valuable knowledge about her experience that can be useful for helping her as well as others facing similar circumstances is highly s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 362 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 363 plausible in itself. But in light of this point, we presumably have a duty to communicate with individuals who are suffering as a means of fulfilling our duties of beneficence. And insofar as we are obligated to communicate with those who are in pain so that we can help them, we should be able to fulfill this duty from the motive of duty-without the assistance of sympathetic feelings. If the suggestion is that we have a duty to cultivate sympathy because we need feelings to be motivated to take the necessary means to fulfill an objectively given end, the epistemic account runs into the same worries about impurity and autonomy that threaten to undermine the plausibility of the motivational account. Proponents of the indirect version of the epistemic account could appeal to the responses I suggested on behalf of the motivational account. Perhaps we have a duty to cultivate sympathetic feelings because, although we have a duty to communicate with those in need, we will sometimes lack the requisite moral strength due to our inherent impurity. But the suggestion that Kant advocates cultivating feelings as a source of motivational backup remains highly controversial. Moreover, this indirect version of the epistemic account is also vulnerable to the second objection raised against the motivational account-that it fails to explain why sympathy is valuable even for fully virtuous agents. Virtuous agents would not need sympathetic feelings to motivate them to communicate with suffering individuals. They would be moved by awareness of their duty to help and the fact that communication is typically an important means to effective help. Thus, the indirect version of the epistemic account implies that the value of sympathy diminishes as an agent's virtue increases. Insofar as we judge this to be an unwelcome implication, we have reason to search for an alternative explanation of the Kantian value of sympathy. 4. the PAtieNt-ceNtered AccouNt 4.1 The Duty of Humanity We have seen that, when we begin our inquiry into the Kantian value of sympathetic feelings by asking why they are useful, two answers that immediately suggest themselves turn out to be problematic. Perhaps we can find a better answer if we turn to the question of why the duty to use sympathy is labeled the duty of humanity. Kant says the duty is given this name "because a human being is regarded here not merely as a rational being but also as an animal endowed with reason" (MS 6:456). Unfortunately, he does not clarify his intended meaning in the rest of this section. However, I believe we can gain some insight if we focus on the contrast between mere rational beings and "animals endowed with reason." __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 363 7/8/15 1:54 PM 364 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY Kant often mentions our animal nature to highlight the moral hindrances generated by our sensible inclinations (Rel 6:26; MS 6:387). However, in the present context, I do not believe he is referring to the difficulties faced by moral agents, but rather the particular needs of moral patients. By referring to humans as animals endowed with reason, Kant is stressing the fact that human beings have an animal nature that gives rise to certain physical and emotional needs. Support for this reading is found in his discussion of the first duty of love (beneficence), located only a few pages prior to his discussion of the duty of humanity. Here Kant writes, "Consequently the maxim of common interest, of beneficence toward those in need, is a universal duty of human beings, just because they are to be considered fellow human beings, that is, rational beings with needs, united by nature in one dwelling place so that they can help one another" (MS 6:453; emphasis added). A particularly important human need is the need to receive genuine expressions of sympathetic concern from others. Although the cold philanthropist of Groundwork I demonstrates a good will that is most estimable, if he truly does not feel any sympathy for others, many of his efforts at promoting happiness will be unsuccessful. This is especially true when those in need of help are friends and family members. When faced with difficult circumstances, we often need something beyond physical aid and financial support. We need the emotional consolation that comes from knowing that there are others disposed to share our pain. This need does not arise from our rational nature but rather from our human nature. My suggestion is that this is why using sympathetic feelings is labeled the duty of humanity. It is not a duty that all conceivable rational beings have to each other. Rather, it is a duty that human beings have to one another due to contingent facts about human nature. I take it that the above claims about the general human need to receive sympathy are relatively uncontroversial. Still, some might be skeptical that Kant took this to be an essential human need. Fortunately, there is textual evidence that mitigates such skepticism. Consider, for instance, Kant's discussion of the law of nature formula of the categorical imperative in Groundwork II. To illustrate this formula, Kant considers four specific duties, including the duty to promote the happiness of others. What is noteworthy for present purposes is that, when Kant claims that an agent could not consistently will a principle of nonbeneficence, he does not mention the need for physical or financial assistance but rather the need for love and sympathy: "For, a will that decided this would conflict with itself, since many cases could occur in which one would need the love and sympathy of others and in which, by such a law of nature arisen from his own will, he would rob himself of all hope of the assistance he wishes for himself" (G 4:423). That Kant chooses s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 364 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 365 to mention sympathy rather than general beneficence is evidence that he appreciates the importance of sympathy for human well-being.10 The strongest evidence that Kant recognizes the importance of receiving sympathy comes from section 35 of the Doctrine of Virtue. On the topic of the suffering of others he writes, [I]t is a duty to sympathize actively in their fate; and to this end it is therefore an indirect duty to cultivate the compassionate natural (aesthetic) feelings in us, and to make use of them as so many means to sympathy based on moral principles and the feelings appropriate to them. Further, [f]or this [sharing painful feelings] is still one of the impulses that nature has implanted in us to do what the representation of duty alone might not accomplish" (MS 6:457). Though these remarks make it clear that Kant recognizes the importance of human emotional needs, interpretive questions arise here as well. For instance, what exactly is it that duty alone might not accomplish but the sharing of painful feelings would? As before, it is tempting to understand Kant to be saying that we sometimes need sympathy to be motivated to help others. But we have seen that this reading is problematic. Thus, I do not believe Kant is claiming that we need sympathetic feelings to be motivated to try to help others. Rather, his point is that it is sometimes necessary that we be motivated by sympathetic feelings so that our attempt to help will be successful. Even if representation of duty alone is always a sufficient incentive to try to help, when duty is the sole incentive, this is often much less effective than help primarily motivated by sympathetic feelings. As Kant notes in the second Critique, though feelings and inclinations cannot be the sole ground of morally worthy conduct, they "can indeed greatly facilitate the effectiveness of moral maxims" (KpV 5:118; emphasis added and removed).11 Feelings make moral maxims more effective in part because human beings are constituted such that we sometimes need those around us to share our pain. To appreciate fully the motivation for the patient-centered account, it may help to consider an example. Suppose your neighbor is grieving the loss of her spouse following a tragic accident. You could certainly recognize her distress and aim to alleviate her suffering without experiencing feelings of sympathy. Even if you are not saddened by her pain, duty can serve as your incentive as you visit her home to deliver a warm meal and express your condolences. Although your neighbor will appreciate your generosity and thoughtfulness, it will not be difficult for her to tell that __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 365 7/8/15 1:54 PM 366 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY you lack the sympathetic feelings for her that others have expressed. This, of course, would not be problematic in itself because she does not need everyone around her to feel and express genuine sympathy. She might even have a special appreciation for your gesture precisely because you were moved to offer support from respect for the moral law. But imagine if everyone who sought to help her through the grieving process did so strictly from duty in the absence of genuine sympathetic feelings. This would presumably make it exponentially more difficult for her to recover because the feelings of loneliness and isolation that accompany severe grief would not be alleviated. Grief is an example of an emotional ailment that even an entire army of cold philanthropists-however good their wills-would be unable to assuage. This explains why sympathy is valuable even for agents who are otherwise fully virtuous-something that the motivational and epistemic accounts are unable to explain. One might object that the suggestion that we have a duty to cultivate and use sympathetic feelings to meet the emotional needs of others is vulnerable to the objection Baron raises against the motivational account-that it is incompatible with genuine autonomy and purity of will. After all, I have claimed that feelings are sometimes a necessary condition for successful moral action. In responding to this worry, it is important to note the reasons that feelings are deemed necessary on the respective accounts. On the motivational account, feelings are necessary because recognition of duty will not always be a strong enough incentive for the agent to try to help. In contrast, on the patient-centered account, recognition of duty is always a sufficient incentive to try to help-it is just that the absence of feelings will sometimes make this help less effective. Thus, our cultivation of sympathy as a source of motivation does not preclude our viewing ourselves as autonomous. Nor does it impede our striving for purity of will. On the contrary, we aim to cultivate sympathetic feelings precisely because, given the needs of those around us, this is what the objective practical law commands. A second objection is that not everyone needs to receive sympathy in order to be happy. It is certainly possible that some people are constituted such that, given certain circumstances, they can experience complete satisfaction without ever being on the receiving end of genuine sympathetic concern. However, the possibility of these rare cases could not undermine the patient-centered account because many duties take their form in light of general facts about the type of beings we are. And it is a general fact about human beings that we often need the sympathy of others. As Barbara Herman notes in discussing the claim that human beings need emotional intimacy, "That someone might choose a solitary life or live well without intimate connection to others no more undermines this fact about human beings than extreme physical stoicism or a s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 366 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 367 high pain threshold undermines the fact that physical assault interferes with successful human activity" (1993, 189n9). Of course, it would be far from ideal for an agent to be surrounded by people who will be moved to help her only when they experience sympathetic feelings. Even the most kindhearted of agents will sometimes fail to feel the appropriate level of sympathy for a friend in distress. Our capacity to experience these feelings can easily be diminished by factors such as stress, exhaustion, illness, and so forth. Thus, we should hope that we have reliable friends who will be moved to help us from duty when their natural sympathy is lagging. But this does not undermine the claim that we need other people to be such that they are typically moved to help us from sympathetic feelings. It would be highly problematic from the standpoint of our well-being if those around us could only ever be moved to help us solely from respect for the moral law.12 4.2 Cultivation and Utilization Two questions naturally arise at this point: (1) how does one cultivate sympathy? (2) how exactly are we supposed to use our sympathy? Kant provides a rough sketch of an answer to the first question. After claiming that we have a duty to cultivate and use sympathy he writes, "It is therefore a duty not to avoid places where the poor who lack the most basic necessities are to be found but rather to seek them out, and not to shun sickrooms or debtors' prisons and so forth in order to avoid sharing painful feelings one may not be able to resist" (MS 6:457). The suggestion seems to be that we must resist the temptation to avoid situations that might arouse our sympathy. Presumably this is because consistently avoiding such situations could eventually lead to emotional atrophy. Putting oneself in these situations is, therefore, the first step of the cultivation process. Kant does not say much beyond this, but we can make reasonable conjectures about what else is required for the cultivation of sympathy. Melissa Seymour Fahmy plausibly suggests that we must also seek to eradicate impediments to our natural receptivity to sympathy, including envy, resentment, indifference, and malice. This can be accomplished through practices of self-examination and self-reproach (Fahmy 2009, 38, 43). As for the second question, one obvious way in which we can use feelings to help others is to verbally communicate our sympathetic concern. Simply telling another person that you share his pain can often go a long way toward easing it. Genuine sympathy can also be communicated in nonverbal ways. The look on a friend's face and the warmth of his embrace are often every bit as revealing and comforting as the words that are spoken (Fahmy 2009, 43). The remaining interpretive question is why Kant calls the duty of humanity a conditional duty. I believe the best explanation is that we __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 367 7/8/15 1:54 PM 368 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY can have a duty to utilize our sympathetic feelings only if we have them. Because it is not possible to have a duty to experience sympathetic feelings (G 4:400; MS 6:402), our duty is only to cultivate them and use them on the condition that we have them.13 One might wonder how we can have a duty to use our sympathy rather than simply having a duty to cultivate it. It would seem that, if we have fulfilled our duty to cultivate sympathy, there would not be a further duty to express it because the feeling itself would naturally move us to do so. While this is often the case, there are circumstances in which we feel sympathy for someone without being immediately inclined to show it. An agent might be reluctant to express her sympathy because she is generally uncomfortable sharing her feelings and opening up to others. Or perhaps she knows that communicating her pain in a given situation will be emotionally taxing. The fact that we may feel anxious about expressing our emotions under difficult circumstances is what makes it possible for us to share our feelings from duty-something that might initially seem paradoxical. 4.3 Summary In this section, I have presented the case for thinking that Kant's duty of humanity is grounded in the fact that receiving sympathy from others is an important human need. The patient-centered account avoids the major worries that afflict the motivational and epistemic accounts. Not only is the patient-centered account free from tension with Kant's claims about autonomy and purity of will, but it also explains why sympathy is valuable even for agents who are otherwise fully virtuous. That being said, it is important to note that the patient-centered account is compatible (in principle) with the motivational and epistemic accounts. It could be that the Kantian value of sympathy is threefold: to motivate beneficent actions, to prompt communication that leads to useful information, and to directly relieve emotional suffering. At the very least, though, I hope to have shown that any account of Kantian sympathy that leaves out the third item on this list is incomplete. 5. morAl eNdowmeNts In addition to avoiding problems faced by the alternative accounts, the patient-centered account has the further advantage of giving rise to a solution to an interpretive puzzle about the Doctrine of Virtue. In section XII of the Introduction, Kant discusses four moral endowments that are "subjective conditions of receptiveness to the concept of duty." The four endowments are moral feeling, conscience, love of one's neighbor, and respect for oneself (self-esteem). Kant claims that these endowments s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 368 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 369 are antecedent predispositions on the side of feeling and that it is in virtue of these feelings that human beings can be put under obligation (MS 6:399). The puzzle that arises is how feelings can be necessary for obligation, given that the essential feature of genuinely moral conduct is that it is performed independently of inclination. Kant's subsequent discussion clarifies this issue for three of the four endowments. The explication of moral feeling and conscience is relatively straightforward. Kant tells us that moral feeling is the susceptibility to feel constraint from recognition of moral obligation (MS 6:399). This feeling does not precede consideration of duty but is rather a consequence of it. Conscience is the ability to arrive at a judgment about whether a possible action is permissible or impermissible (MS 6:400). The moral feeling is experienced after one's conscience makes a judgment. In light of all this, it is obvious why the moral feeling and conscience are preconditions for moral obligation. A being unable to assess the permissibility of an action and lacking the capacity to feel constrained by that judgment would not be a free moral agent. Respect for oneself (the third moral endowment) is a precondition of moral obligation because the moral law has its source within oneself. Thus, respecting the moral law is not possible in the absence of respect for oneself. If we did not respect ourselves, we could not respect the moral law, and we could not recognize duties. Importantly, we do not have a choice whether to respect ourselves; rather, the law within us unavoidably forces us to. When we violate duties to ourselves, this is not a result of lack of self-respect. Our conscience judges that such action is impermissible precisely because we necessarily have respect for ourselves. Violations of duties to oneself result from ignoring the judgment of conscience, not a failure to recognize such duties. Unfortunately, Kant's discussion of love of others in section XII is not as helpful in explaining why this moral endowment is a precondition for moral obligation. He notes that the feeling itself cannot be a duty but that benevolence is a duty (MS 6:402). He notes further that successful completion of beneficent actions will result in experiencing feelings of love (MS 6:402). But none of this explains why the capacity for the feeling is a precondition for moral obligation. It seems obvious that we are capable of performing beneficent actions without having feelings for the person we are helping, and elsewhere Kant goes to great lengths to stress that moral worth is garnered precisely when feelings like love do not serve as an incentive to action. Paul Guyer attempts to solve this puzzle by arguing that Kant's aim in this part of the Metaphysics of Morals is to offer an entirely empirical account of the etiology of moral action. Guyer interprets Kant as __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 369 7/8/15 1:54 PM 370 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY claiming that love (as sympathetic feeling) is a precondition for being obligated to help others because such feelings are the "final impulses" prompting us to fulfill our duties to help others (2010, 151). In other words, sympathetic feelings are necessary to move us to perform beneficent actions.14 An obvious concern about this interpretation is that, like the motivational account, it appears at odds with Kant's claims about impurity and autonomy. Guyer avoids this worry because, on his view, feelings that play a causal role in the performance of moral actions are not to be thought of as causing the noumenal determination of the will but rather as the effects of that determination. They are not a safeguard in case the representation of duty fails to motivate us; rather, they are "the means through which the general representation of duty naturally and ordinarily works to move us to beneficent actions" (Guyer 2010, 147). On this interpretation, agents make the choice to obey the law (regarding beneficence) at the noumenal level, and sympathetic feelings are merely the phenomenal result of this choice. Thus, feelings are necessary in the sense that, without them, the noumenal determination of the will could not be manifested at the phenomenal level. This is apparently because of the empirical fact that human beings cannot be moved to fulfill duties of beneficence without sympathetic feelings. There are three distinct grounds for concern about Guyer's interpretation. The first is that there is little motivation for the empirical claim that we cannot be moved to help others from mere recognition of an obligation and a desire to act in accordance with our obligations. We do not need to feel displeasure when we see others suffering in order to be motivated to help them. Suppose one of your co-workers has earned a coveted promotion by lying and cheating. If you see this co-worker unable to start his car as you are leaving work late one night, it is unlikely that his suffering will cause you any displeasure. Yet you can still be moved to help him strictly because you recognize an obligation. Your decision to fulfill your obligation to help need not (and probably will not) manifest itself in the form of sympathetic feelings. Not only is there little reason to accept the empirical claim that we cannot be moved to fulfill our duties to help others without experiencing sympathetic feelings, but this claim also conflicts with some of Kant's examples in the Groundwork such as the cold philanthropist in whom all feelings of sympathy have been extinguished due to grief and depression (G 4:398). Despite his lack of feeling, this individual is still moved to help others solely from respect for the moral law. Guyer acknowledges the tension between this example and his account of sympathy. He suggests that the cold philanthropist is not to be seen as an example of the way a person might actually be motivated; rather, he is simply an instructive thought-experiment that is meant to illustrate dutiful action. While s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 370 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 371 this is a possible way of understanding the example, doing so requires a complicated story about actual agents under similar circumstances. On Guyer's account, an agent who has grown unsympathetic due to grief or depression can still be moved to help by duty at the noumenal level, but this will always manifest itself by his regaining sympathetic feelings as the final impulse to action at the phenomenal level. Kant's view appears more plausible and is certainly less convoluted if we take the Groundwork example at face value. A second problem with Guyer's account is that it is in tension with Kant's discussion of love in section XII. Kant claims that, when we succeed in helping others, we eventually come to love the person we have helped: So the saying "you ought to love your neighbor as yourself" does not mean that you ought immediately (first) to love him and (afterwards) by means of this love do good to him. It means, rather, do good to your fellow human beings, and your beneficence will produce love of them in you (as an aptitude of the inclination to beneficence in general). (MS 6:402) Here Kant is indicating that feelings of love toward a particular person are a consequence of dutiful beneficence toward that person. This is hard to reconcile with the claim that one must already feel love for a person to dutifully help that person. Guyer does not attempt to resolve this tension. Instead, he suggests that we set aside Kant's discussion in the Introduction and turn to the discussion of sympathy as the third duty of love in sections 34 and 35. Guyer interprets Kant's claim that sympathetic feelings are "impulses that nature has implanted in us to do what the representation of duty alone might not accomplish" (MS 6:457) as suggesting that these feelings are "the proximate causes of beneficent actions, and thus are the penultimate stage in the phenomenal etiology of (these) particular moral actions" (Guyer 2010, 147). As mentioned above, Guyer believes that sympathetic feelings are not the cause of one's choosing to fulfill her duty of beneficence but rather the means through which this noumenal commitment to duty is manifested in action at the phenomenal level. This leads to a third problem with Guyer's account. If sympathetic feelings are the phenomenal effect of our noumenal commitment to duty, why do we have a duty to cultivate these feelings? It is clear that virtually all human beings have the bare capacity to feel sympathy. It would appear then that an agent who is much less sympathetic than most (while still having the minimal capacity for sympathy) but high in the other moral endowments (moral feeling, conscience, self-respect) will always be capable of being moved to help those in need because she will necessarily __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 371 7/8/15 1:54 PM 372 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY come to feel sympathy as a result of the noumenal determination of her will. But if this is true, there is no reason for this agent to cultivate her sympathy-her time would be better spent continuing to cultivate her moral feeling, conscience, and self-respect. In light of these concerns about Guyer's account, the puzzle about how the capacity to feel love can be a precondition to moral obligation remains. I believe the patient-centered account of the Kantian value of sympathy generates a solution to this puzzle. We begin with the fact that it is part of human nature to need emotional support from time to time. Because we need emotional support from others (this is one of the ways in which we make ourselves an end for others), we recognize an obligation to provide emotional support (because others' ends become our ends through universal law). But it would not be possible to provide the emotional support needed in the absence of sympathetic feelings. We cannot be obligated to do things of which we are incapable. Thus, the capacity to feel sympathy is a necessary precondition for being under the obligation to provide emotional support for others, which is one of the most important duties of beneficence. The reason we have a duty to cultivate our sympathetic feelings is that the more often we experience them, the more frequently we will be able to successfully promote the happiness of others. coNclusioN In this paper, I have argued that traditional accounts of the Kantian value of sympathy are not entirely compelling. I have suggested an alternative account according to which the duty to cultivate and use sympathetic feelings is grounded in the fact that one of the most fundamental human needs is the need for emotional support in times of trouble. Three advantages of the patient-centered account have been outlined. The account (1) avoids tension with Kant's views on autonomy and impurity, (2) explains why sympathy is valuable even for agents who are otherwise fully virtuous, and (3) generates a solution to an interpretive puzzle concerning the "moral endowments." If our contingently given animal nature were such that our happiness never depended on receiving sympathy from others, it is doubtful that there would be a duty to cultivate and use our sympathetic feelings. Indeed, there might be other finite rational beings out there who can achieve all their moral aims without the employment of feelings. But, although the objective practical law applies to all rational beings as such, an agent's specific moral obligations are determined in part by the circumstances she finds herself in. The condition we find ourselves in is one in which those around us are constituted such that they are vulners__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 372 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 373 able to emotional and psychological distress (in addition to physical and material ailments). The most effective way of alleviating the pains that run deepest is to share in them. This is why we have a duty to cultivate our capacity to feel genuine sympathy along with the resolve to utilize it when necessary.15 University of Washington, St. Louis Keywords: Kant, sympathy, feelings, duty, autonomy NOTES 1. I use the following abbreviations for Kant's works: MS = The Metaphysics of Morals, KpV = Critique of Practical Reason, G = The Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, Rel = Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason, A = Anthropology from a Pragmatic Point of View, ED = "The End of All Things," and Obs = "Observations on the Feeling of the Beautiful and the Sublime." 2. The two views I have described are not mutually exclusive. One might hold that the Kantian value of sympathy is motivational and epistemic. 3. Arguments in support of the motivational account can be found in Jensen 1989, Allison 1990, Sherman 1990, Papish 2007, and De Lourdes Bourges 2012. 4. I am not suggesting that a successful account of the Kantian value of sympathy must fully agree with natural consciousness. The suggestion is rather that, other things being equal, an account that brings Kant's ethics closer to common moral judgment is to be preferred over one that does not. And we must keep in mind that, in addition to being unable to explain why a virtuous agent would need sympathy, the motivational account is also threatened by Baron's worries about autonomy and purity of will. 5. For extended treatment of perfect and imperfect duties and their relation to virtue, see Banham 2003, chap. 7. 6. See also Allison 1996, 121–23. 7. The epistemic account is also advanced in Herman 1985, Denis 2000, Baxley 2010, and Fahmy 2009. Fahmy also suggests a reading according to which there is a duty to express one's sympathetic feelings, which implies that the value of these feelings transcends whatever epistemic role they play. Though I have reservations about Fahmy's claims about the epistemic value of sympathy (for reasons I shall offer presently), many of her other suggestions are plausible and instructive. I incorporate and expound upon some of them in section 4 below. 8. A similar example is offered in Fahmy 2009, 41. __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 373 7/8/15 1:54 PM 374 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY 9. Cf. ibid. 10. For extended treatment of the difference between the general duty of beneficence and duties of love and sympathy as outlined in the Metaphysics of Morals, see Fahmy 2010. 11. Though Kant adds to this that feelings such as sympathy cannot produce moral maxims, this is not in tension with my proposed reading of the Kantian value of sympathy. Though one of the advantages of the patient-centered account is its ability to explain why even a fully virtuous agent would need sympathy, the view does not imply that sympathy is a genuinely moral motive. The suggestion is merely that we have a duty to cultivate and utilize sympathetic feelings because our fellow human beings often need to receive sympathy from us. This is consistent with denying that action from the motive of sympathy ever has proper moral worth (though conscientious cultivation of these feelings presumably does). 12. This thought underlies the objection that Kantian ethics is "alienating" and inimical to genuine friendship. For influential formulations of this objection, see Stocker 1976 and Annas 1984. Although much progress has been made in responding to this line of objection, the upshot of many discussions of this issue is that Kant's ethics allows that actions done from sympathy as primary motive with duty regulating can be just as good as actions done from duty as primary motive. I believe the patient-centered account enables us to take the further step of explaining why it is preferable for agents to sometimes act from feelings as primary motive. Being disposed to act from feelings on occasion is vital because this allows us to meet the needs of our fellow human beings. Further, the patient-centered account reveals that it is not just weak-willed individuals who have a duty to cultivate and use sympathy-even the most virtuous of agents have reasons to make themselves such that they are sometimes moved by sympathetic feelings. This constitutes further progress in blunting the force of the alienation worry. Though my proposal will not satisfy those who believe sympathy is valuable for its own sake, in explaining why even fully virtuous agents should be moved by sympathy on some occasions, the patient-centered account shows that Kantian ethics is closer to common moral consciousness than is often claimed. 13. An alternative reading is that we have a duty to use our sympathetic feelings only on the condition that the actions they prompt are morally permissible. This reading is suggested by Guyer 2012, 424–25. 14. For an alternative proposal, see Geiger 2011. Geiger suggests that feelings of love for others are necessary for perceiving their happiness as placing moral demands on us. 15. Earlier versions of this paper were presented at the 2012 meeting of the North American Kant Society Pacific Study Group and the 2012 Rocky Mountain Ethics Congress. I thank audiences at those events for helpful feedback. I also thank Andrews Reath, Geraldine Ng, Mavis Biss, and two anonymous reviewers for useful suggestions. I am especially grateful to Nich Baima, Jeff Dauer, and Anne Margaret Baxley for many helpful and instructive conversations about these issues. s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 374 7/8/15 1:54 PM RATIONAL BEINGS WITH EMOTIONAL NEEDS 375 REFERENCES Allison, Henry. 1990. Kant's Theory of Freedom. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ---. 1996. Idealism and Freedom: Essays on Kant's Theoretical and Practical Philosophy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Annas, Julia. 1984. "Personal Love and Kantian Ethics in Effi Breist." Philosophy and Literature 8, no. 1: 15–31. Banham, Gary. 2003. Kant's Practical Philosophy. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Baron, Marcia. 1995. Kantian Ethics Almost without Apology. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Baxley, Anne Margaret. 2010. Kant's Theory of Virtue: The Value of Autocracy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. De Lourdes Borges, Maria. 2012. "A Typology of Love in Kant's Philosophy." In Kant in Brazil, edited by Frederick Rauscher and Daniel Omar Perez, 271–82. Rochester, NY: University of Rochester Press. Denis, Laura. 2000. "Kant's Cold Sage and the Sublimity of Apathy." Kantian Review 4, no. 1: 48–73. Fahmy, Melissa S. 2009. "Active Sympathetic Participation: Reconsidering Kant's Duty of Sympathy." Kantian Review 14, no. 1: 31–52. ---. 2010. "Kantian Practical Love." Pacific Philosophical Quarterly 91, no. 3: 331–31. Geiger, Ido. 2011. "Rational Feelings and Moral Agency." Kantian Review 16, no. 2: 283–308. Guyer, Paul. 2010. "Moral Feelings in the Metaphysics of Morals." In Kant's Metaphysics of Morals: A Critical Guide, edited by Lara Denis, 130–51. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ---. 2012. "Schopenhauer, Kant and Compassion." Kantian Review 17, no. 3: 403–29. Herman, Barbara. 1985. "The Practice of Moral Judgment." Journal of Philosophy 82, no. 8: 414–36. ---. 1993. The Practice of Moral Judgment. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Jensen, Henning. 1989. "Kant on Overdetermination, Indirect Duties, and Moral Worth." In Proceedings: Sixth International Kant Congress, edited by Gerhard Funke and Thomas M. Seebohm, 161–70. Washington, DC: University Press of America. Kant, Immanuel. 1996. Practical Philosophy. Edited and translated by Mary J. Gregor and introduced by Allen Wood. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. __s __n lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 375 7/8/15 1:54 PM 376 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY QUARTERLY ---. 1998. Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason. Edited and translated by Allen Wood and George Di Giovanni. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ---. 2007. Anthropology, History, and Education. Edited by Robert B. Louden and Günter Zöller. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Papish, Laura. 2007. "The Cultivation of Sensibility in Kant's Moral Philosophy." Kantian Review 12, no. 2: 128–46. Sherman, Nancy. 1990. "The Place of Emotions in Kantian Morality." In Identity, Character, and Morality: Essays in Moral Psychology, edited by Owen Falnagan and Amelie Oksenberg Rorty, 149–70. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Stocker, Michael. 1976. "The Schizophrenia of Modern Ethical Theories." Journal of Philosophy 73, no. 14: 453–66. s__ n__ lc HPQ 32_4 text.indd 376 7/8/15 1:54 PM
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Journal of the History of the Behavioral Sciences, Vol. 37(4), 327–348 Fall 2001  2001 John Wiley & Sons, Inc. JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard Base of DF Top of ID Base of 1st line of ART 327 ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS ERIK C. BANKS Although Ernst Mach is widely recognized in psychology for his discovery of the effects of lateral inhibition in the retina ("Mach Bands"), his contributions to the theory of depth perception are not as well known. Mach proposed that steady luminance gradients triggered sensations of depth. He also expanded on Ewald Hering's hypothesis of "monocular depth sensations," arguing that they were subject to the same principle of lateral inhibition as light sensations were. Even after Hermann von Helmholtz's attack on Hering in 1866, Mach continued to develop theories involving the monocular depth sensations, proposing an explanation of perspective drawings in which the mutually inhibiting depth sensations scaled to a mean depth. Mach also contemplated a theory of stereopsis in which monocular depth perception played the primary role.  2001 John Wiley & Sons, Inc. The Austrian physicist, philosopher, and psychologist Ernst Mach (1838–1916) is well known in the history of psychology for his discovery of the effects of lateral inhibition in the retina (the "Mach Bands"). He also engaged in the great controversies of his time, in particular the philosophical conflict of the 1860s over visual depth perception between the empiricists (represented by Hermann von Helmholtz) and the nativists (represented by Ewald Hering). Mach's articles and unpublished notebooks, which are now collected at the Deutsches Museum in Munich, contain indications beginning in the 1860s of his own unique but littleknown theory of monocular depth perception, closely tied to his explanation of the Mach Bands. Mach held two distinct theories of spatial properties. In physics, he believed they were a sign of deeper relationships of measure (Mach, 1866, p. 232). But in psychology, Mach believed that spatial length, width, and depth were actual sensations like color, smell, or taste (Mach, 1886/1959, p. 8). Psychologically, spatial representation seemed to him innate and biological in nature and thus inseparable from human sense experience. Yet this very fact called urgently for an "antimetaphysical" elimination of the physiological properties of space ERIK C. BANKS received his Ph.D. in 2000 from the City University of New York for his thesis "Ernst Mach's World Elements," based on his study of Mach's Nachlass during the summer of 1999. His e-mail address is [email protected]. 328 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textfrom physical thought. As part of his overall antimetaphysical program, Mach was motivated to explain the emergence of space perception as a biological phenomenon. MACH'S SPACE SENSATIONS Even in psychology, Mach identified numerous separate mechanisms within the body for spatial representation. These included tactile and retinal local signs (Localzeichen), sensations of equilibrium controlling the involuntary eye movements, and an innate apparatus1 of kinesthetic muscular sensations present at birth. The sum total of the local bodily sensations, Mach said, formed a "fixed register" into which the experiences of the world were entered like numbers into a blank account book (Mach, 1905/1960, p. 17). Mach held that certain space sensations in the eye, particularly the monocular and binocular sensations of depth, were engendered by the local signs of the retina. Localzeichen were the brainchild of Hermann Lotze, who regarded them as simple feelings of place that combined with one another in sequence, leading to the complex sensation of extended spaces. Herbart, Lotze, and Wundt all pioneered sophisticated psychological constructions of space from space-less, intensive elements, which influenced Mach significantly in his physics.2 Those who regarded space as a construction of elements became known as "empiricists," the most pronounced example of whom was Wundt, who wrote that "the spatial order is developed from the combination of certain sensational components which, taken separately, have no spatial attributes" (Wundt, 1897, p. 127). Those who regarded the spatial system of vision as more or less fixed at birth were known as nativists. In the theory of vision, Mach followed Ewald Hering's nativist theory of stereopsis, which employed local signs for depth on both retinas. Indeed, from reading Mach's Analysis of Sensations one would never guess that there was any theory other than Hering's. What is not generally known is that Mach used his own research on the Mach Bands to enhance and fill out Hering's theory. In particular Mach was interested in monocular impressions of depth induced by illuminated surfaces and perspective drawings. Based on these studies, he concluded that local sensations of length and depth were not fixed properties but more like light sensations, mutually inhibiting one another, bending, distorting and scaling to an average value. Mach even said that the depth sensations followed a law of the "reciprocal action of retinal points" similar to the law he had discovered for light sensations (Mach, 1868, p. 734). Mach's investigations during the 1860s on the relationship between the bands and3 the monocular depth sensations are a lost episode in the history of psychology, which showed just how willing he was willing to consider space a sensation like light or color. 1. These include a series of rolling motions of the eyes to compensate for the tilting of the head. If one tilts one's head 45 to the side, both eyeballs roll in the opposite direction keeping retinal images fixed in place and leading to the impression of a fixed world attaching to those images. Another motion is the familiar one of watching a train car pass, where the eyes follow the train and fix it in place, then snap back to the next car and follow it, without an apparent break in the continuity of the impression. As Mach showed in his famous work on sensations of movement (1886/1959, Chapter 7), these eye motions can also be brought about in a person blindfolded and sealed in a dark spinning box, with no indications of movement cues besides linear and angular accelerations. 2. Herbart's reproduction series, Lotze's local-signs, and Wundt's complex local-sign theory are all reviewed in Mach's early work, "Vorträge über Psychophysik" (Mach, 1863a). 3. Mach, 1868, p. 734: "Es scheint mir für die Gestaltempfindung ein ganz ähnliches Gesetz der Wechselwirkung der Netzhautstellen zu herrschen, wie jenes, welches ich für die Lichtempfindung constatirt habe." ("It appears to me that for the sensation of form, a completely similar law of reciprocal action of retinal points holds to that which I have framed for light sensations.") 329ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of text FIGURE 1. Trapezoidaland square-shaped luminance distributions. MACH BANDS AND LATERAL INHIBITION Mach's most important psychophysical researches in his Graz and early Prague period (1864–1868) centered on what are now called Mach Bands. Good examples of these subjective phenomena are afforded by trapezoidal-ramped luminance distributions (Figure 1, left). Following from left to right, a black plateau suddenly increases through a penumbra of gradually lighter grays to a white plateau on the right. Subjectively, a dark band should appear just after the ramp turns upward and a light band just after the ramp turns downward. Mach pointed out that the dark and light bands were not properties of the objective illuminance distribution. Interestingly, it is not just sudden changes from light to dark that produce the bands, since they disappear in illuminance distributions featuring sharper edges, such as an edge of pure black against pure white (as in Figure 1, right) (Morrone, Ross, Burr, & Owens, 1986). Even in his first paper, Mach offered an explanation that has since become standard (Ratliff, 1966, pp. 267–271). He knew from the retinal anatomy of his time that the light receptors did not plug directly into the optic nerve. Instead the receptors were cross-connected with one another first, so that one optic nerve fiber culled the responses of about 100 individual receptors. To Mach, this meant that each receptor responded to two sources of incoming information. The first source was the actual brightness of the light shining on it. The second source came from the responses of neighboring receptors, which contributed by inhibiting the first. Thus, Mach hypothesized, the response a given receptor passed on to the optic nerve and the higher visual system was really something like an average worked out from the mutual inhibition of the receptors. He wrote that the receptors must undergo "a series of reciprocal 330 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textactions" (now called lateral inhibition) before their excitations were transmitted to the optic nerve (Ratliff, 1966, pp. 268–269). It followed from Mach's anatomical considerations that the actual brightness of a lighted point on the retina was different from its sensed brightness. Because lateral inhibition acted to level off differences in brightness between one point and another, only extreme contrasts survived the processing. A point appeared brighter when it was above the average brightness of its neighbors and darker when it was below the average of its neighbors. Looking back in 1906 on his earlier work, Mach expressed the principle as follows: The illumination of a retinal point will, in proportion to the difference between this illumination and the average illumination on neighboring points, appear brighter or darker respectively, depending on whether the illumination of it is above or below that average. (Ratliff, 1966, pp. 321–322) The absolute illuminance made a difference, of course. The difference was noticed between a room lit by candle light and one lit by sunlight, but any contrasts were greatly exaggerated. Mach remarked: "The visual organ shows a definite unmistakable tendency to schematize, in that it merely notices striking irregularities. The same tendency manifests itself in details as well as the whole field" (Ratliff, 1966, p. 265). He went on to say that the whole retina scaled its impressions of brightness from the middle tone of the visual field. Photographers also do this when they meter for the middle tone of a picture and not the absolute brightness, allowing absolute grays to overexpose to whites and dark tones to underexpose to black, so that the maximum detail of the image is attained. The evolutionary advantage of such an optic system is that an animal's perception of contour and shape remains unaffected by the level of ambient light. Without a detailed map of the various discrete receptors and their interconnections, the actual law of inhibition could not be stated (as would later be true of the law for depth sensations). However, Mach could offer a convincing sketch of what was going on in his experiments with illuminance (see Figure 2). Along the steady plateaus, and along each section within the ramp, every light sensation was the average of its neighbors. Figure 2, top, shows an imaginary group of receptors placed along different points on the curve. Within the ramp and on the plateaus, no stark contrasts are sensed and the impression, Mach claimed, was that of a more or less uniform area. At the points where the ramp begins (M) and ends (N), the middle point is respectively darker and brighter than the average, which lies on the straight line. This difference will then be reflected in the perceived brightness of those points by a spiking downward at M and upward at N (Figure 2, bottom). Mach was aware of the anatomical similarity of neural tissue in the retina to brain tissue, and he quickly extended his analysis of the retina to cognition in the brain by asking, "why should the ganglion cells of these organs behave differently than those of the rest of the nervous system and the brain?" (Ratliff, 1966, p. 269). In an 1863 article, in which he attempted to vindicate Herbart's theory of inhibition of ideas by each other, Mach guessed that reciprocal inhibitions existed in brain tissue: It appears to me very plausible that generally speaking attention has its grounds in the mechanism of the body. If nerve energy is liberated in certain paths, then through this very mechanism other paths are cut off. And what is valid for sensory sensations might be valid for thought also. Thought can be conceived as a change of attention. Certain physical processes therefore exclude others. In the measure to which the first occur, the others withdraw. Physical processes, sensations, press against one another. We have 331ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of text FIGURE 2. Explanation of Mach Bands and perceived brightness. found on physiological grounds a law that governs the sensations similar to that which Herbart long ago expressed for the ideas. (Mach, 1863b, p. 297) And, contrariwise, for Mach, the eye's neural tissue was capable of rudimentary "thinking processes"; there was no need at all to refer all processing to so-called unconscious inferences (Unbewusster Schluss) as Helmholtz and Wundt had sometimes done. Helmholtz especially had maintained in the third volume of his monumental Handbook of Physiological Optics (1866/1962) that many sensory phenomena and illusions were due to inductive inferences by the central nervous system, whereby an ambiguous present experience was interpreted with the help of memories of previous occasions, and not by any innate organization of the sense organs. Mach took exception to this: I now have grounds to believe that the majority of the phenomena which we have believed to be errors of judgment (i.e., essentially due to processes in the central nervous system) actually have their basis in a more autonomous behavior of the sense organs. I will describe a series of observations that led me to the view that is already becoming familiar in comparative anatomy, namely that the sense organs are to be considered as subordinate central organs. (Ratliff, 1966, p. 308) 4. "This phenomenon of contrast is not restricted to the sense organs. It is even more prominent as a general characteristic of the neural pathways, in the blocking of weak excitation by the nerves that are carrying stimulation. A similar mechanism of the nervous system accounts for the fact that a person is unable to think of two different things at the same time." 332 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textMore recently, Georg von Békésy (1960, p. 538) and Floyd Ratliff (1970) firmly upheld4 Mach's extension of neural inhibition in the eye to central processes, as did neurophysiologist R. Jung at the 1966 Freiburg Mach Symposium: The visual phenomena discovered by Mach are not only sensory mechanisms for the improvement of the perception of contrasts, but rather also general principles of distribution for excitation and inhibition: every stronger excitation in the central nervous system is surrounded by a wall of inhibition. This hinders unbounded widening of the excitation, which would otherwise lead to massive neural discharge and to epileptic seizures. The physiological bounding of excitation works with contrast mechanisms toward raising to prominence significant patterns of excitation [Erregungsmuster] and at the same time serves a functional ordering which keeps the entire nervous system at a mean level of excitation. Mach had already expressed similar thoughts in his economy principle. (quoted in Kerkhof, 1966, p. 135) Von Békésy rediscovered Mach's work in 1928, attributing a neurological law of contrasts to him and applying it to the nerve endings of the cochlea in the inner ear. The stimulus produced in the cochlea by traveling pressure waves, which were first demonstrated by von Békésy, was far too diffuse to explain sharply localized sensations of tone, unless there was a mechanism for focusing the stimulus: It appears that Mach's law of contrast should play a highly significant role in auditory theory. It achieves a certain patterning of sensation. A distribution of stimulation in the form of a single resonance curve will produce a high peaking of the maximum because at this point the stimulus intensity undergoes its greatest variation, whereas on either side the stimulus effect falls off and the curve there is convex downward. (von Békésy, 1960, p. 418) Von Békésy also produced an article for the Freiburg Symposium entitled "Die Erweiterung der Existenz der Mach-Bänder auf andere Sinnesgebiete" (The Extension of the Existence of Mach Bands to Other Senses) in which he showed that the skin and even the taste buds exhibited the phenomenon (Kerkhof, 1966, pp. 161–169). MACH BANDS AND MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATION Mach made a special series of remarks about the ramp-like illuminance distribution that increases steadily according to the law of a straight line, such as the penumbra of grays in Figure 1. Here there were no above-average brightnesses but only a steady change from dark to light. Clearly when we look at a gradient in ordinary surroundings we notice a change from one side to the other. Mach's inhibition theory implied, however, that when the entire field of vision was taken up with such a distribution, the gradient of brightnesses should have been sensed as uniform gray, since there were no above average contrasts. Mach did such an experiment by fixing a cylindrical surface in a box and looking at it through a hole with one eye. According to the laws of illumination, a cylindrical surface produces a steady brightness gradient. Along the cylindrical wall in the box, however, Mach remarked that he did not notice a rise in illumination, but experienced instead the sensation of a uniformly bright surface in depth (Ratliff, 1966, pp. 264, 288–289). Lighting differences had given way to depth. Depending on what direction the light was seen to come from, the surface of the cylinder was sensed as a bump or a hollow. Again, Mach rejected the idea, which naturally suggested itself, that such a connection between light and depth sensations was the result of previous experience and memory. An unconscious inference, as hypothesized by Helmholtz, might run: whenever I have seen light surfaces like this before, they were on 333ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textthe uniformly lighted surfaces of bumps or hollows, therefore this must be such a case. Mach sought instead a biological mechanism for connecting light and depth sensations like the parts of a machine. Mach's sallies against Helmholtz's mode of explanation showed that he was aligning himself with the nativism of Ewald Hering (Ratliff, 1966, p. 298) on the issue of how depth was perceived. This is not the place for a history of the philosophical clash in Germany between the nativist and empiricist schools, both of which could claim a lineage from the transcendental idealism of Kant. Suffice it to say that the psychological problem came to a5 head in the mid-1860s when Hering published a comprehensive nativist theory of stereopsis in which he claimed depth was sensed by means of an innate organization of the two retinas, and was not inferred from experience. Hering modeled his theory of innate depth perception on Johannes Müller's theory of corresponding points. Müller had started from the anatomical6 fact that nerves from the visual field crossed over one another at the optic chiasma on their way to the brain, connecting up the left retina's temporal half with the right retina's nasal half and vice versa. The points that were joined were said to be corresponding. Müller drew the set of all corresponding points from both eyes as a circle passing through the point on which the two eyes were fixed and the optical centers of both eyes (see Figure 3). He hypothesized that this set of points, called the horopter, would be seen as single and fused in depth. The other images along noncorresponding points would be seen double. However, no sooner was his theory out than Müller was contradicted by the physicist Wheatstone, who had invented the stereoscope, and who claimed that points not on the horopter could also be seen as fused and in depth. There was, in fact, a whole area of fused images surrounding the horopter, later called Panum's fusional area. For Wheatstone, what counted was the similarity in the form of images on the two retinas and not whether the points corresponded or did not. Wheatstone's work revived an older theory of projection, which claimed that the mind received two retinal surfaces, somehow recognized the objects in them as similar, and calculated from their retinal disparity, the distance between the two eyes and their angle of convergence, the depth at which a single object would have to be situated in order to cast the two images. These inferences were presumed to be unconscious and automatic; the observer saw not the two flattened retinal surfaces before the mind but a fused field in space external to his eyes. Helmholtz seems to have inclined toward a form of the empiricist projection theory, but also endorsed nativism for some elements of vision. Hering's theory of stereopsis, which appeared in Part Five of his Beiträge zur Physiologie in 1865 (Hering, 1865), revived Müller's theory once again. As R. Steven Turner writes: Hering found it inherently implausible that the eye's mind should be constantly recalculating the distance of external objects and projecting their images appropriately. He charged that projection theories merely reify the geometrical abstractions of the physicist and substitute them for real subjective perceptions and their underlying physiological mechanisms. This criticism encapsulated his lifelong hostility to explanations that por5. The influence of the philosophical debate on the development of psychology is covered in Boring 1944 and 1950. Helmholtz, in his Handbuch (Vol. 3), related his view of the conflict, and may have been responsible for the formulation Empiricismus und Nativismus as opposed to the usual "Empiricism and Rationalism"-the two divisions are not coextensive; Nietzsche, for example, was a nativist but hardly a rationalist. James' Psychology, Lotze's Logik, Wundt's Logik, and Mach's Erkenntnis und Irrtum are good sources for those investigating the intersection of the philosophical debate with nineteenth-century psychology. 6. My treatment of the development from Müller to Hering and Helmholtz derives from Boring (1944) and Turner (1994). 334 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of text FIGURE 3. Müller's horopter. trayed the processes of sensory perception as analogous to higher intellectualistic functions of the mind, rather than as immediate expressions of the life forces in the sense organs themselves (Turner, 1994, pp. 61–62). Hering regarded the connections of the corresponding points as mutually inhibiting, like numbers with  and  signs. For Hering, points connected up to the same nerves averagedout one another when they were fused into a binocular perception. To show how the process of inhibition worked, Hering demonstrated that the direction of sight for both eyes was an "average" of the lines of sight from each individual eye. He proved this by an elegant experiment. Sit down in front of a window with your left eye shut and the right eye fixed on a distant object, such as a flagpole. Mark the spot on the window with an X. Now close your right eye and open your left and note the object your left eye sees through the X. Say it is a tree. Now open both eyes and stare through the X. Surprisingly both the flagpole and the tree are seen in the same straight line through the X. Thus, objects lie in the 335ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of text FIGURE 4 Hering's width (x), height (x), and depth (z) local signs. same visual direction for the fused "cyclopean" visual field that are in opposite directions for each eye. Hering explained these facts of visual perception with the scheme in Figure 4, top. Each eye was to be divided into x and y axes, with the fovea at the origin. These conventions yielded a set of height and width sensations with positive and negative sign. Hering said that whenever one eye was used, the position of the object was immediately sensed on this grid of local signs. When both eyes were used, the direction in the fused image was the sum of the x and y values with signs taken into account. Images on corresponding points were equal in value and opposite in sign and were thus seen in the same direction dead-on (Mach, 1886/ 1959, p. 124). Other points not undergoing inhibition at all were seen double. In fact, as Helmholtz also remarked, the visual field was filled with double images that go unnoticed. To explain binocular depth perception, Hering postulated a set of depth signs on the retina. Depth values (z) were arranged on each eye to increase in value from the nasal side of the retina to the temporal side, and were opposite in sign on either side of a meridian drawn down the middle (Figure 4, bottom) (Mach, 1886/1959, p. 124). Objects on corresponding points had equal and opposite depth values and were seen on a mean zero-depth surface that Hering called the Kernfläche, roughly translatable as the "base-line surface" (pictured in Figure 5). This was the surface previously called the horopter, although Hering 336 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of text FIGURE 5. Hering's binocular scheme of local signs for depth. determined its shape more precisely. Objects were seen at positive or negative depth, figured always from the zero position of the baseline. Hering showed that all points on the somewhat elliptical horopter were seen in binocular vision as if they lay on a flat wall. The theory (as pictured in Figure 5) was simple and elegant, using only two signs,  337ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textand . Hering even accounted for double images on noncorresponding points, giving them each a separate depth value, but no average since they did not inhibit and fuse. In 1866, Mach declared himself in print to be a follower of Hering (Ratliff, 1966, p. 298), even after the appearance of Helmholtz's significant attack in the Handbook, which ushered in a new crisis in the theory of vision. HELMHOLTZ'S CRITIQUE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS Helmholtz's most trenchant criticism targeted Hering's monocular depth sensations. He reasoned that if Hering were right and local depth signs were spread out along the retinas from right to left, then covering one eye, or even parts of one eye, would still leave only some monocular depth sensations active. This would mean, for example, that if the observer covered one eye and faced a horizontal flat wall, then, because the other eye's monocular depth sensations no longer inhibited the first's, the whole wall should be seen angled toward the observer. Specifically, points falling on the nasal side of the eye should have been seen as having greater depth than the points on the temporal side. Needless to say, experience did not confirm this conjecture, nor any of the sequence of variations Helmholtz proposed.7 Hering had been forced by other evidence as well to admit that certain experiential cues could override the monocular depth sensations and, in his Lehre vom binocularen Sehen (1868/1977), he claimed only that similar overall forms of objects would be fused in stereopsis, not point-to-point matchings. This seems to have been a concession to the projection theory. Turner relates that there were additional problems for Hering concerning the relearning of stereopsis by people with improperly aligned eyes, which would have been impossible if the corresponding points had to be precisely connected (Turner, 1994, pp. 168– 169). Turner writes that, due to these attacks, as of 1866 the monocular depth sensations had become a dead issue: "Neither [Hering] nor any of his students ever again defended the hypothesis of monocular depth-values following Helmholtz's attack of 1866" (p. 86). This assertion, however, overlooks the Mach Band articles, namely Mach's 1868 article, "Beobachtungen über Monoculare Stereoscopie," and the Analyse der Empfindungen (published in 1886), in which he attempted to save the monocular depth sensations for Hering. Indeed in the Mach Band articles, Mach turned immediately from his study of light sensations to consider steady gradients and their ability to induce monocular sensations of depth. Mach also ventured hypotheses about depth sensations and perspective drawings in which he extended his principle of neural inhibition to depth signs. A contemporary simply could not have read Mach's articles of the 1860s without thinking of the Hering–Helmholtz controversy, and the Mach Band papers are accordingly peppered with broadsides against Helmholtz and defenses of Hering, as if Mach felt his work was relevant to that debate. The impact of these works seems to have been negligible, however, as even Mach's studies of the Bands were ignored. Summing up those years from the perspective of 1906, he wrote: "My reports have remained almost unknown or unnoticed for a long time, such that indeed the facts concerned were again discovered independently by observers more than 30 years later" (Ratliff, 1966, p. 322). LIGHT AND DEPTH SENSATIONS Mach had hoped to save Hering's theory by arguing first that monocular depth sensations could be activated by light. He then applied his theory of neural inhibition to explain why 7. But see Turner (1994) for some of the ingenious ways Hering's students picked up the challenge. 338 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of text FIGURE 6. Mach card. steady increases in depth sensation would go unnoticed-the point at issue in Helmholtz's flat-wall objection. This extension of complex neural inhibition over areas to depth sensations was entirely original with Mach. In the third Mach band article, "Über die physiologische Wirkung räumlich vertheilter Lichtreize, Dritte Abhandlung" (On the physiological effect of spatially distributed light stimuli (third paper); Ratliff, 1966, pp. 285–298), Mach called special attention to the relationship between light and depth sensation, using the phenomenon of the "Mach Card": If I fold a rectangular piece of stiff paper along a straight line to form two congruent rectangular parts and place it on the table in front of me so that when vertical it has the projecting side turned toward me, I obtain the image shown in [Figure 6]. The light should fall from the left and the right side will thus be somewhat darker. If then I close one eye, the sensation is almost completely unaltered. If I try to see the paper as recessed, however, I succeed after some effort. The left side thereupon appears to become much brighter and the right side much darker. Light and shade appear as if painted upon it. Moreover I notice a different color on the right and left sides which had not been noticeable to me earlier. Furthermore the form of the paper has changed. The lines bf, bd have become longer than ae, ac, the lines cd and ef shorter than ab. Finally the corner ab no longer remains vertical, but the paper lies like an open book before me. These simultaneous alterations of the sensation of depth, the sensation of form and the sensations of light which occur without the slightest theoretical deliberation, indicate how quickly these things, through well-regulated reflexes transform themselves into one another. It thereby appears that the sensation through which another becomes elicited, itself diminishes in the same proportion as it elicits the other. (Ratliff, 1966, pp. 295–296) 339ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textThe reader should try this experiment using Figure 6 as a guide. An ordinary piece of white paper and a desk light in a darkened room will do. The result is fascinating; instead of a white paper with shading, one gets the opposite impression of half-white, half-black (or gray) paper bathed in strong light. As the depth sensations of the paper reverse, light sensations also8 reverse; as the paper appears closer, it darkens. Finally, the rectangular sections of the paper contract into two trapezoidal-shaped sections. Thus, the Mach Card suggests some kind of rigid, automatic connection among the sensations of light, depth, and length. Mach thought so very highly of this connection that he compared their relationship to the conservation of energy-when the potential energy decreases the kinetic energy increases and the sum remains constant (Mach, 1886/1959, p. 211). Mach used the postulated invariant relationship among light, depth, and length sensations as a basis for defining objecthood in the visual field: we may expect that whenever a coherent mass of sensations, which, in virtue of its continuous transitions and its common coloring, merged into a unity, exhibits spatial alteration, the change will be seen preferably as the motion of a solid body. I must confess, however, that this way of looking at the matter does not satisfy me. I believe rather that here too an elementary habit of the organ of sight is at the root of the matter- a habit which did not originally arise through the conscious experience of the individual, but on the contrary, antecedently facilitated our apprehension of the movement of solid bodies. If we should assume, for example, that every diminution of the transverse dimension of an optical sensation mass to which the attention was directed had the tendency to induce a corresponding augmentation of the dimension of depth, and vice versa, we should have a process quite analogous to that which we have considered above [The Mach Card demonstration] and which was compared to the Conservation of Energy. This view is certainly much simpler and supplies an equally adequate explanation. Furthermore it allows us to comprehend easily how such an elementary habit could be acquired, how it could find expression in the organism and how the disposition toward it could be inherited. (Mach, 1886/1959, pp. 233–234) Mach thus believed the solid visual object was like a function in terms of light, depth, and length sensations. For the object to remain the same when any one of these elements changed, another had to offset it. In Mach's example from the citation directly above, as the surface of a sensation-mass was tilted away, and perhaps reduced in illumination, the depth sensation increased and supplied the lack so that the overall impression was of a constant object of uniform color and size, smaller in its retinal image and different in lighting because of the eye's additions of depth. MACH BANDS AND DEPTH SENSATIONS In his third Mach Band article, Mach had shown that a cylinder cast a lighted surface that rose only steadily in its lightness gradient, and was sensed, in depth, as either a bump or a hollow (Ratliff, 1966, pp. 287–288). Bumps and hollows cast identical light surfaces–as can be seen by comparing the identical lighting of a convex plaster cast of a face and the concave mold. Thus, it was also necessary to know the direction of the light to arrive at an unambiguous perception of the relief. Once again rejecting unconscious inference, Mach used his experiment to claim that a cylindrical curve of depth sensations was automatically triggered by light sensations of a steady gradient: 8. When I do this experiment in a darkened room, I allow the shaded side of the paper to be as dark as possible, and, upon inverting get the sensation of black paper. Some of the referees of this essay did not see quite so dramatic an effect, perhaps because of the darkness of the shading or of the room. 340 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textLet us imagine for a moment that every retinal point could generate sensations of depth of different intensity in addition to light sensations of different quality and intensity. It would now require nothing more than a simple reflex mechanism, which would trigger the depth sensations simultaneously with the light sensation, for this phenomenon to be understood. Three successive retinal elements, from right to left, of which the left is always more strongly illuminated than the right, would always generate in themselves three depth sensations, which would increase in the opposite direction, but in such a way that the middle element would produce a somewhat greater depth sensation than the average depth sensation of the two neighboring elements. (Ratliff, 1966, p. 289) From this remark it would appear that the depth sensations were supposed to be triggered by the light surface itself, not the perceived sensation surface that was flattened out by the lateral inhibition of the light receptors. Adding some quantitative detail to his theory, Mach wrote in his Notebook of 1904: Theory of plasticity and illumination. A constant increase of light corresponds to a constant curvature of the surface. The depth sensation integrates the light intensity. Light intensity-rise, fall in depth Rise in intensity-curvature of the surface.9 He meant that a surface of constantly increasing illumination, following the law of a straight line, was assigned a curve of depth values. He also said that the curve of depth sensations was the "integral" of a straight-line increase in lighting. Taken literally (as in Figure 7A) this would mean that an illuminance gradient would integrate to a depthi(x)  kx  b curve, Of course the observer does not see a parabolically curved surface,1 2z(i(x))  kx  C).2 but a cylinder, so this increase in depth must then have been subject to further inhibition processing among the depth elements which flattened the curve out (Figure 7B). Further, as Mach put it by saying "light intensity-rise, fall in depth," the integral law predicted that a constant illumination would trigger a straight-line increase in depth sensations on the retina (Figure 7C). The depth sensations would then increase from right to left or left to right depending on the direction of the light. Prima facie, such a case presented much the same problem as Helmholtz's wall, for the predicted inclines in depth were not observed. However, for Mach, monocular depth sensations were subject to further inhibition flattening off the differences (Figure 7D). In the example of the wall, steadily increasing depth sensations would be ignored, since none exceeded the average value of its neighbors, and thus the wall would indeed be sensed as flat. This result, though it was not stated this way, was more than implied by the direction of Mach's thinking, and possibly would have formed the kernel of a defense of Hering against Helmholtz. I cannot imagine that this application could have escaped him; it was more likely the raison d'être of his own theory to begin with. Mach's inhibition mechanism also had an advantage over Hering's, since it was spread over areas and not as dependent on values at individual retinal points. Mach and Hering were colleagues in Prague for many years and, in all likelihood, they must have discussed the question of the monocular depth sensations at least once. Why, then, did Hering not include Mach's ideas on neural inhibition as part of his own theory? Did he disagree with them or just ignore them? This is just one question that a study of the Mach– Hering relationship should clarify. 9. "Theorie d. Plastik und Beleuchtung. Einer Constanten Steigung d. Lichtes entspricht eine Constante Krümmung der Fläche. Die Tiefempfindung integriert die Lichtintensität. Lichtintensität . . . Stei. Gefäll in d. Tiefe. Steig. d. Intens.-.-Krümmung in d. Tiefe." Notebook dated 8 June 1904 (Ernst Mach Nachlass, Deutsches Museum, Munich, Signatur: NL 174/2/47). 341ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of text FIGURE 7. Mach's depth sensations as the integral of light sensations. MACH'S "MONOCULAR" CONCEPTION OF STEREOPSIS In addition to this other work, Mach considered advancing what he called a "monocular" theory of stereopsis. It occurred to him that if differences in the illuminance distribution on one retina gave rise to monocular depth sensations, then perhaps it was a similar monocular mechanism that generated stereoscopic depth in a field contributed to by both eyes. Mach remarked, for example, that stereopsis merely depended upon unequal light distributions on 342 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textthe retinas (Ratliff, 1966, p. 292). Of course monocular stereoscopy merely depends on lighting differences on one retina. More to the point, Mach observed that just as a uniformly rising illumination led to a perception of curved relief for one eye, so two uniformly rising illuminations on two retinas gave a sensation of a surface of still greater relief in stereopsis (Ratliff, 1966, p. 290). What he seems to be implying is that use of both eyes merely strengthens effects already seen in the operation of just one eye. Furthermore-and this is a barely concealed attack on the projection theory-Mach claimed that detecting the contours of objects was not necessary for stereoscopic relief. He argued that it was not necessary to discern two shapes on either retina, judge them as similar and then "compute" their disparity. Only the two unequal light distributions themselves were needed: "Each image alone gives the impression of the plastic cylindrical surface referred to above. They appear even more plastic when I superimpose them by crossing my eyes. In this way the stereoscopic images can be constructed without any contours" (Ratliff, 1966, p. 290). (The fact that two light surfaces alone suffice for stereopsis was rediscovered and demonstrated in a more dramatic form by Bela Julesz in 1962, when he introduced the random dot stereogram [see Turner, 1994, pp. 271–272].) Mach speculated further in print that although depth sensation in stereopsis originally resulted from "the reciprocal action of the two retinas it is possible to develop through the reflex connections of light and depth, depth sensations on the one retina." (Ratliff, 1966, p. 298). Once again the implication was that what both eyes do, one eye can do alone. If so, then the differences in the light distribution in a field contributed by the two eyes could be said to trigger sensations of depth by the same mechanism the monocular depth sensations obeyed, with the other eye introduced merely to further enhance the monocular effects. In a Notebook entry of 1875 he speculated further: "Both eyes together give stereoscopy. One eye can do it with the help of the other. It can be that the monocular is primary. Binocular the secondary thing."10 Mach also noticed that in the monocular field of vision, moving images and images that shrank or grew triggered sensations of depth : "Height and width grows with depth. Differ-11 ence of height and breadth gives depth."12 In still another place, he made a more general remark: "Light contrast depth. Space contrast depth." Mach thus considered differences in spatial distribution (for example, by a13 moving image) to be differences leading to depth just like changes of illuminance. In fact, from what he says, it seems to me there would have been very little separating a mass of diachronically moving, shrinking and growing light sensations in monocular vision, and two light distributions presented simultaneously in a fused binocular field. Abstractly considered, both would contain nothing but differences in the spatial distribution of light. 10. "Beide Augen zusammen geben Stereoscopisches. Ein Auge kann es mit Hilfe des anderen geben. Es kann aber das Monoculare auch das Primäre sein. Das Binoculare das secondäre." Notebook dated 20 August 1875 (NL 174/02/07). 11. Mach investigated figures he made out of rods and movable joints called Plateau's wire nets, finding that if he subjected the nets to volume expanding and contracting motions, the visual impression was instead of an object of constant volume undergoing rotation. Perspective reversal occasioned a reversal of the direction of rotation. Differences of the position of the rods occasioned special offsetting sensations of depth in order to maintain the perception of an object (Mach, 1868, pp. 4–5). 12. "Höhe und Breite wächst mit der Tiefe. Differenz von Höhe und Breite gibt Tiefe." Notebook dated 20 August 1875 (NL 174/2/7). 13. "Lichtcontrast Tiefe. Raumcontrast Tiefe." Notebook dated April 1882 (NL 174/2/19). 343ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textSTEREOPSIS: THE PHENOMENOLOGICAL MYSTERY The perennial mystery of stereopsis is how two separate retinal images fuse into a single three-dimensional object of homogeneous light, length, width, and depth sensation. Mach's views shed some light on how he might have tackled this mystery, had he expanded his observations from the cryptic hints above. If one imagined, for example, that the visual cortex was similar to a monocular surface with one eye brought to the help of the other, as Mach seemed to think, then the fields contributed by both eyes could be mapped on top of one another onto a flat surface. A row of single images would be mapped on top of one another from the corresponding points, and on noncorresponding points, a set of double images, superimposed flat on top of one another. (Imagine that one was given two sheets of graph paper with images and their coordinates, and that one had to map these images onto a single sheet by superimposing the coordinates.) The key point is that retinal disparities from the two eyes would show up simply as differences of spatial light distribution on a flat surface. This is what I take Mach to mean by a conception of stereoscopy that starts from the behavior of a monocular field. What would happen, then, if the two Machian mechanisms for monocular stereoscopy worked on this fused surface, the way he claimed they did on a single retina? In Mach's view, length and width were no more fixed than light and could shrink or grow in place. In the example of the Mach Card, he had proposed that light and spatial distribution in monocular vision were all sensed as fluid. By adding or removing depth sensation, an image on the surface could distend in both shape and brightness. It is no leap to imagine that perhaps a disparate mass of light sensations could be made to coalesce by adding and subtracting depth sensation. No intellectual similarity between images would be required if these adjustments were made automatically. Indeed Mach's mechanistic philosophy of mind forbade unconscious inferences or higher cognitive processes in stereopsis. To some degree, the shrinking of the lengths and changing orientation of the rectangular sections of the Mach Card indicated that spatial changes in the monocular image could be controlled by adding and removing depth sensations. Moreover, since Mach considered a visual object to be an invariant relationship or equation holding between light, depth and length, any of these could suffer alterations in favor of the others. There was certainly room for the idea that the spatial and light distributions of an image could be systematically altered according to a rule by adding and removing depth. Finally, following Mach's neural inhibition theory, the depth sensations themselves would have undergone mutual inhibition until a single object formed at the mean depth of the entire light distribution. Objects requiring net subtractions of depth sensation would have projected forward while those that required additions would have recessed back fromHering's Kernfläche. Light distributions that were too spatially disparate would have been left as doubled monocular images. The Kernfläche and the double images were already more or less explained by Hering's theory. It was the middle foreground and background of fused images that presented the phenomenological problem and would seem to have required the more complex Machian mechanisms. Such is my preliminary reconstruction of how Machian monocular stereoscopy might have worked. THE LAW OF INHIBITION FOR DEPTH SENSATIONS Mach originally hit upon the idea of expanding his law of lateral inhibition to depth sensations by a study of perspective figures. Now such figures are simply flat lines on paper 344 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of text FIGURE 8. Preferred depth sensations for a line in space. arranged at various angles. The task for the eye is to interpret those lines as a cube, a pyramid, or whatever object in space they might be taken to represent. The problem is that a given line drawing always represents an infinite number of spatial objects all consistent with the arrangement of the lines. There is no way to reconstruct an object in space from its perspective image; and yet the eye always manages to reduce its choices to two or three possibilities at the most. This was the fact that intrigued Mach: The most striking thing for me about these observations is the way the eye is determined in the interpretation of monocular figures. Although for the geometer it would be a completely indeterminate task to seek out the object for a monocular figure, the eye sees only very few forms and positions. Therefore there yet must lie conditions in the eye that further determine it. (Mach, 1868, p. 734) Mach claimed that, whenever possible, a line image cast on the retina was always seen as if it were cast by a straight line in space, erected in a plane perpendicular to the line of sight, in other words a flat plane seen by an eye staring dead ahead (see Figure 8). Mach said the possibility was always summarily discounted that the image was cast by a curve or by a line inclined in space, such as a crooked flagpole or curved streetlight that was bent into, or away from, the plane of the viewer. Whenever possible, the angle of inclination between a line and the line of sight was always seen as a right angle (Mach, 1868, p. 734). In Figure 8 for example, line BA, tilted out of the plane of vision, would always be seen as BA or as BA or as any other line parallel to these and consistent with other perceptions. Of course, the empiricist theory could also have explained Mach's rule, because it was overwhelmingly unlikely that a tilted, broken, or crooked line would be seen edge on as a straight line. It was much more likely that straight line images were, not surprisingly, cast by straight lines. Mach, however, attributed an innate preference of the eye to the principle that "the eye develops a minimum of depth differences" (Mach, 1886/1959, pp. 214–215). In other words, if an observer had to see a line image as an object in depth, he or she would always at least try to attribute a uniform depth to all points, marked off from the flat plane sitting perpendicular to the line of sight-Hering's Kernfläche. If the perception of uniform depth could not be maintained, the next best case for the eye would be for every depth sensation to be a mean of the neighboring depth sensations-the best case being all points at the same or zero depth. 345ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textMach's principle of stinginess led him to assert that for all monocular figures, the depth attributed to the corresponding spatial object, when consistent with other perceptions, would be the minimum needed to achieve the perception of straight lines at the minimum possible depth meeting at right angles in space, never curves or more complicated arrangements of broken or crooked lines. Thus, although a dodecahedron in space had edges that had to meet at angles greater than 90, this would be no counterexample to Mach's principle for seeing figures. The image of a dodecahedron could be cast by a very complex arrangement of straight lines and right angles, but assuming such an object would have meant violating the other half of Mach's principle that lines be seen as inclined at minimal depth. Mach went on to say that drawings consisting of straight lines and right angles already were preferably not seen in perspective at all and tended to flatten out on the paper. In a fascinating section of the Analysis of Sensations (Mach, 1886/1959, pp. 232–233), which would be of interest to comparative art historians, Mach claimed that children instinctively avoided perspective and preferred to draw a table with all of its angles right and the tabletop flat. In fact, given the task of making a two-dimensional picture of a table as realistic as possible, Mach was suggesting that such a drawing was better than classical Renaissance perspective at preserving the properties of angle-openings, shape, and surface area. Mach interpreted Egyptian figure drawing analogously as a highly naturalistic attempt to press as much of the human body into the twodimensional plane as possible "as plants are pressed in a herbarium." Seeking a physiological basis for these many observations, Mach claimed his monocular principle for attributing minimum depth to objects in space was due to inhibition among the monocular depth signs of the retina, a clear extension of his Mach Band principle governing light sensations to Hering's theory: "It appears to me that a completely similar law of the reciprocal action of the retinal points, as I have laid it down for the light sensations, also holds for the sensation of form."14 He elaborated in the Analysis of Sensations: every point of a straight line in space marks the mean of the depth sensations of the neighboring points. Thus the straight line in space gives the mean of the similar space values of the adjacent points; and the assumption forthwith presents itself that the straight line is seen with the least effort. (Mach, 1886/1959, pp. 214–215) Mach stated his law of illumination as "the illumination of a position on the retina is felt in proportion to its deviation from the mean illuminations of the adjacent positions" (Mach, 1886/1959, pp. 217–218).Mutatis mutandis the law for depth sensations would read: the attributed depth of a point (if not zero) is in proportion to its minimum possible deviation from the mean of the depths of adjacent points. In sum, returning to Helmholtz's wall problem, inhibition principles would explain why, if a steady rise of depth sensation were triggered by light sensations, this arrangement of depths would fall victim immediately to the eye's inhibiting preference to see such steady rises as flattened into the plane perpendicular to the line of sight. For stereopsis, Mach stated that Hering's Kernfläche (the old horopter) was this flat-as-possible surface (Mach, 1886/ 1959, pp. 223–225). 14. See Note 3. 346 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of text FIGURE 9. A suggested monocular stereogram. 347ERNST MACH AND THE EPISODE OF THE MONOCULAR DEPTH SENSATIONS JHBS-WILEY RIGHT BATCH short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of textEPILOGUE Although Mach's observations were systematic, and highly suggestive, he never succeeded in putting these hypotheses together in a crucial experiment, or in enlisting Hering's support. For some reason, Mach did not seek to engineer any tests. Nor, apparently, did other writers contradict him on perspective vision, the connection of light gradients and depth sensation or his adherence to the hypothesis of monocular depth sensations. One immediate question should have been why there are no higher order depth curves generated by curves of greater degree in light intensity, which I believe he may have answered. A more serious15 problem for Mach's monocular conception of stereopsis is that his theory (or rather his theory the way I have reconstructed it above) predicts the existence of a "monocular stereogram." By that I mean a double image that can be seen fused and in depth by only one eye, an example of which is Figure 9. By closing one eye and staring with the other at the top triangle marked with an "x," the double triangle below, now in the periphery of the field of vision, should fuse in depth even on a single retina. I have not seen this work convincingly, but it might be an interesting problem for a modern visual scientist to investigate further. For Mach's part, he remained satisfied with the observations he had made and seems to have been content for his views to be ignored. Unlike Hering, Wundt, and James, Mach was the perennial Aussenseiter who founded no school of psychology; nor did he have designs in that direction. In the Preface to the second edition of the Analyse der Empfindungen (1900), he wrote that he did not intend to update the book by considering new research and letting it "swell out into a bulky volume" (Mach, 1886/1959, p. xxxvii). As time passed, Mach seemed to give the field over to Hering, except for his special research on the sensations of movement. Mach's nativism, though always pronounced, developed further in Hering's direction. For example, species-wide memory and the presence of spatial representation at birth became favored hypotheses of both men. Meanwhile, Hering's students carried on the fight against Helmholtz without apparently being aware of Mach's work. And, by the turn of the century, Mach's and Hering's physiological approach to sense perception was losing out somewhat to the holist views of Gestalt psychologists, who allowed for cognitive judgment to play a major role-bolstering Helmholtz's idea of unconscious inferences. Similarly, Franz Brentano's students began to frame a psychology of acts in which so-called a priori elements of perception stood out as quasilogical data above psychology, for which a physiological basis was not even sought. But finally, and most devastatingly, the anatomical and physiological expertise was lacking for an accurate observation of the living nervous system and brain-technologies only beginning to develop today. If a physiologist did come across Mach's work earlier, his neglect was not necessarily a sign of ignorance or indifference. At that time there simply may have been no way to use or expand upon Mach's ideas. 15. Mach and Josef Popper had puzzled over the question of why curves had only certain physiological properties for the eye. For example the eye noticed the slope of the curve (the first derivative) and the curvature (which involves the second derivative), but no properties of higher order. Mach's explanation was that the eye only noticed certain of the noticeable deviations of the curve from that of a straight line, or, as he said, the deviation of the line's symmetry to itself. Based on the idea that the resting position is for a line to be situated purely horizontally along the horizon, the slope represents a first deviation from that position and the curvature a second deviation from the first. Higher order deviations from symmetry had no physiological meaning (Mach, 1866, p. 229). My thanks to the Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst (DAAD) for funding my research and to the Archive of Deutsches Museum and its staff for access to the Ernst Mach Nachlass (including letters, notebooks, and lecture notes) during the summer of 1999. I also thank two anonymous referees whose comments significantly improved this article. REFERENCES Boring, E. (1944). Sensation and perception in the history of experimental psychology. New York: AppletonCentury-Crofts. Boring, E. (1950). A history of experimental psychology. New York: Appleton-CenturyCrofts. Helmholtz, H. von. (1962). Helmholtz's treatise on physiological optics. New York: Dover. (German original published 1866) Hering, E. (1865). Beiträge zur Physiologie. Leipzig: Wilhelm Engelmann. Hering, E. (1977). The theory of binocular vision (B. Bridgeman, Trans.). New York: Plenum Press. (German original published 1868) Kerkhof, F. (1966). Symposium aus Anlass des 50. Todestages von Ernst Mach [Symposium on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of Ernst Mach's death]. Freiburg: Ernst Mach Institut. Mach, E. (1863a). Vorträge über Psychophysik. Oesterreiche Zeitschrift für praktische Heilkunde 9. Mach, E. (1863b). Zur Theorie des Gehörorgans. Sitzungsberichte der kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften, mathematische-naturwissenschaftliche Klasse, 48, 283–300. Mach, E. (1866). Bemerkungen über die Entwicklung der Raumvorstellungen. Fichtes Zeitschrift für Philosophie und philosophische Kritik, 49, 227–232. Mach, E. (1868). Beobachtungen über monoculare Stereoscopie. Sitzungsberichte der kaiserlichen Akademie, mathematische-naturwissenschaftliche Klasse, Wien, 58, 731–736. Mach, E. (1875). Grundlinean der Lehre von den Bewegungsempfindungen. Leipzig: Wilhelm Engelmann. Mach, E. (1959). The analysis of sensations. New York: Dover. (German original published 1886) Mach, E. (1960). Space and geometry in the light of physiological, psychological and physical inquiry. LaSalle IL: (German original published 1905) Morrone, M.C., Ross, J., Burr, D.C., & Owens, R. (1986). Mach bands are phase dependent. Nature, 324(20), 250– 253. Ratliff, F. (1966). Mach bands. San Francisco: Holden Day. Ratliff, F. (1970). On Mach's contribution to the analysis of sensations. In R. S. Cohen, & R. J. Seeger (Eds.), Ernst Mach: Physicist and philosopher (pp. 23–41). Dordrecht: D. Reidel. Turner, R. S. (1994). In the eye's mind: Vision and the Helmholtz–Hering controversy. Princeton NJ: Princeton University Press. Von Békésy, G. (1960). Experiments in hearing. New York: McGraw Hill. Wundt, W. (1897). Outlines of psychology. New York: E. Steichert. 348 ERIK C. BANKS LEFT BATCHJHBS-WILEY short standard long Top of RH Base of RH Top of text Base of text
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Nudges and other moral technologies in the context of power: Assigning and accepting responsibility Mark Alfano, Delft University of Technology & Australian Catholic University Philip Robichaud, Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam Abstract Strawson argues that we should understand moral responsibility in terms of our practices of holding responsible and taking responsibility. The former covers what is commonly referred to as ​backward-looking responsibility​, while the latter covers what is commonly referred to as forward-looking responsibility​. We consider new technologies and interventions that facilitate assignment of responsibility. Assigning responsibility is best understood as the secondor third-personal analogue of taking responsibility. It establishes forward-looking responsibility. But unlike taking responsibility, it establishes forward-looking responsibility in someone else. When such assignments are accepted, they function in such a way that those to whom responsibility has been assigned face the same obligations and are susceptible to the same reactive attitudes as someone who takes responsibility. One family of interventions interests us in particular: nudges. We contend that many instances of nudging tacitly assign responsibility to nudgees for actions, values, and relationships that they might not otherwise have taken responsibility for. To the extent that nudgees tacitly accept such assignments, they become responsible for upholding norms that would otherwise have fallen under the purview of other actors. While this may be empowering in some cases, it can also function in such a way that it burdens people with more responsibility that they can (reasonably be expected to) manage. Word count: ​5294 (excluding references) Keywords:​ responsibility, reactive attitudes, nudge, power relations 2 1. Introduction In his seminal essay, "Freedom and Resentment," Peter Strawson (1962) argues that we should understand moral responsibility in terms of our practices of holding responsible. These practices are canalized by reactive attitudes such as anger and resentment, guilt, and vicarious indignation. Strawson was primarily concerned with what is nowadays referred to as ​backward-looking responsibility​, in which bad or problematic outcomes are traced back to an agent who is then held responsible and prima facie blameworthy (Watson 1987; Fischer & Ravizza 1998; van de Poel 2011). More recently, philosophers have added to the mix the notion of ​forward-looking responsibility​, in which an agent undertakes to ensure that certain outcomes (do not) obtain, certain values are upheld, or certain relationships are maintained (Goodin 1998; ​Darby and Branscombe 2014​). In this chapter, we consider new technologies and interventions that facilitate not just holding responsible and taking responsibility, but assignment of responsibility (and assignment of assignment of responsibility, and so on). Assigning responsibility is most easily understood as the secondor third-personal analogue of taking responsibility. It establishes forward-looking responsibility. But unlike taking responsibility, it establishes forward-looking responsibility in someone else. And when such assignments are either tacitly or explicitly accepted, they function in such a way that those to whom responsibility has been assigned face the same obligations and are susceptible to the same reactive attitudes as someone who, of their own free will, takes responsibility in the more familiar sense. One family of interventions interests us in particular: nudges and related moral technologies. As defined by Thaler & Sunstein, a nudge is, "​any aspect of the choice architecture that alters people's behavior in a predictable way without forbidding any options or significantly changing their economic incentive." (2008, p. 6)​. Nudges are a subset of moral technologies, which attempt "to bridge the gap between moral psychology and normative theory by recommending ways in which we, as moral psychology describes us, can become more as we should be, as normative theory prescribes" (Alfano 2013, p. 6). We contend that many instances of nudging tacitly assign responsibility to nudgees for actions, values, and relationships for which they might not otherwise have taken responsibility. In so doing, such nudges do not bypass the agent's reasoning or values; instead, they engage the agent's reasoning and values by prompting them (if only unconsciously) to accept responsibility. To the extent that nudgees tacitly or explicitly accept such assignments, they thereby become responsible for upholding norms that would otherwise have fallen under the purview of other actors, such as the state or those with more political, economic, or epistemic power. While this may be empowering in some 3 cases, it can also end up burdening people with more responsibility that they can (reasonably be expected to) manage. Here is the plan for this paper. We begin by arguing that the Strawsonian framework is not sufficient for understanding the full range of responsibility-practices that need to be explained. Next, we enrich the Strawsonian framework with the concepts of assigning, accepting, and repudiating responsibility. Each of these moral psychological practices can take place either tacitly or explicitly. We then we explain how to incorporate nudging into the enriched framework. We argue that many instances of nudging are best understood as moral technologies aimed at assigning responsibility to agents who will be inclined to tacitly accept the assignment. We conclude by reflecting on the conditions under which assigning responsibility by nudging is morally acceptable. 2. Strawson's inadequacy The Strawsonian framework presupposes a largely horizontal power structure, in which each agent both is able to hold others to account and feels accountable to others (McKiernan 2016; Todd forthcoming). While such horizontal power structures undeniably characterize much of human activity both now and in our evolutionary niche (Dunbar 1992, 1993), they are clearly not the only ways in which people relate to one another morally and politically. Agents whom the naive Strawsonian might feel entitled to hold responsible via blame, sanctions, punishments, and reactive attitudes such as anger and resentment are often unaccountable not just legally but also -to their own minds and from the point of view of their social circles -morally . Someone who is excluded from a community via contempt or disgust may be taken to have no standing to hold those within the community responsible (Bell 2013, p. 6; Mason 2018; Darwall 2018). Kate Manne (2017, p. 186) discusses an example from ​The Talented Mr. Ripley in which a woman's concerns are dismissed as irrelevant because, in her misogynistic culture, she lacks standing to voice them. Further examples from real life are not hard to come by, as the #metoo movement demonstrated in recent months. Conversely, agents whom the naive Strawsonian might view as beyond reproach are often blamed, punished, resented, and scapegoated for behavior that seems morally unobjectionable or even praiseworthy (e.g., whistleblowers like Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden). Similar counterexamples crop up in the context of taking responsibility. Agents who might feel entitled to take responsibility for a particular outcome or value may sometimes be denied the authority to do so. For example, when Dr. Tamika Cross, who is black, raised her hand to volunteer to treat an ailing passenger on a flight from Detroit to Minneapolis on 9 October 2016, the flight attendant who had requested medical assistance demanded to see her credentials and 4 said, "Oh no, sweetie put your hand down; we are looking for actual physicians or nurses or some type of medical personnel. We don't have time to talk to you" (Hauser 2016). Conversely, agents may be allowed to take responsibility for outcomes or values that they manifestly lack the competence to handle. For instance, in 2017 Jared Kushner sought and was accorded responsibility for managing the American opioid epidemic, resolving the Israel-Palestine conflict, and overhauling the entire US federal bureaucracy (Bartlett 2017). The Strawsonian might object to these alleged counterexamples by insisting that they represent abuses of our practices of taking responsibility and holding responsible. Presumably there is some slack built into these practices, allowing both for cases in which agents aren't held responsible when they could or should be, and for cases in which agents are held responsible when they shouldn't be. This is easier said than done, however. Strawson argues that our practices of holding responsible and taking responsibility, along with "their reception, the reactions to them, really are expressions of our moral attitudes [....] Our practices do not merely exploit our natures, they express them" (1963 [2003], p. 93). If this is right, then whatever practices humans systematically employ in the context of responsibility, punishment, and blame must be incorporated into the framework. Strawson and his fellow travelers attempt to systematize exceptions by articulating theories of excuses, exempting conditions, and the like (Austin 1979). But the sorts of counterexamples mentioned above do not fit into this framework and are, we contend, systematic enough to force us to rethink the Strawsonian framework. Scapegoating, victim-blaming, and retaliating against whistleblowers are as much a part of human practices as the horizontal reactive attitudes and activities that Strawson recounts. Manuel Vargas argues that they might be elements of the optimific (from his particular consequentialist standpoint) moral responsibility system. (2013, pp. 177-180). We are not just talking about corrigible problem-cases that present anomalous counterexamples to the Strawsonian framework. We are talking about cases where the framework systematically and constitutively delivers problematic results. If people are enculturated to respond to praise, blame, admiration, resentment, and the whole suite of reactive attitudes as Strawson suggests, then these outcomes are -if not inevitable, then highly likely. These observations suggest that, while the naive Strawsonian framework may be adequate to a society inhabited only by saints and guilt-prone sinners, it must be supplemented for a world like ours in which the shameless ride on the buoyant unaccountability made possible by toadies, sycophants, scapegoaters, and the rest of their ugly menagerie. This chapter is an attempt to move beyond Strawson's cheerful perspective by incorporating relations of power into the theory of responsibility. 5 3. Enriching the Strawsonian framework Define a responsibility-community as a set A = {​a​1, ​a​2, ​a​3, ..., ​a​n} of agents (potentially including group agents), a set V = {​v​1, ​v​2, v3, ..., ​v​n} of values (broadly construed to include desirable outcomes, relationships, and so on), and a relation R mapping from agents to values. Let ​a​R​v​ mean that agent ​a​ takes responsibility for value ​v​. Such a community is dynamic insofar as additional agents can be added to A, existing agents can be eliminated from A, additional values can be added to V, existing values can be eliminated from V, agents can assume new responsibilities, and agents can be stripped of or otherwise lose responsibilities. The familiar Strawsonian framework incorporates three main functions related to such dynamics. First, an agent can ​take responsibility​ for preserving, promoting, pursuing, or protecting a value. While Strawson himself does not mention this, it's clear that in many cases the community possesses veto power over such taking responsibility. If your community rejects your bid to take responsibility for a value, whether because you lack standing to assume it in the first place or because you are deemed untrustworthy, you cannot take responsibility for it in a way that licenses others to direct reactive attitudes and the sanctions they express towards you. Second, an agent can be held responsible (via reactive attitudes, sanctions, and so on) for failing to preserve, promote, pursue, or protect some value for which they have or should have taken responsibility. Third, an agent can be (temporarily) excluded from the community by taking an "objective stance" rather than a "participant stance" towards them. These functions, when enacted explicitly, are part of what we might call the language game of responsibility (Wittgenstein 1953; Sellars 1954), in which the speech-act of declaring oneself responsible plays a pivotal role (Austin 1975; Searle 1995). However, they can also occur without any words being uttered. Gestures, eye-contact, shared assumptions, default rules, and a wide variety of other non-linguistic activities contribute to our responsibility practices. In this section, we supplement the Strawsonian picture by theorizing further functions available to members of responsibility-communities. These include assigning responsibility, accepting responsibility, and repudiating responsibility. 3.1. Assigning responsibility Subject to the veto of the responsibility-community, when ​a​ bids to take responsibility for ​v​, she succeeds in doing so. In second-person and third-person assignments of responsibility, ​a​2 assigns a​1 responsibility for ​v​. As before, such assignments are typically subject to veto by the community. The assignment might be rejected because ​a​2 lacks the authority to make the assignment (either ​tout court​ or specifically to ​a​1), because some other agent is already responsible for ​v​ (and there is a limit on the number of agents who can be responsible for it), 6 because the community deems ​a​1 untrustworthy, because ​a​1 rejects the assignment, or for some other reason. These considerations point to the role of power in responsibility-communities. In extremely egalitarian communities, assignments are always only invitations, which the assignee can reject. At the opposite extreme, dictatorial communities vest the power to assign responsibility in one or a few individuals, whose declarations must be accepted -both by the assignee and by the community at large. In between are a wide variety of communities in which some assignments are mandatory but others can be rejected (either by the assignee or by other members of the community). As before, assigning responsibility can be done explicitly through a declarative speech-act, but it can also be enacted through non-linguistic actions such as gestures, eye-contact, shared assumptions, default rules, and so on. There are also various means by which responsibility assignments can be vetoed by the community. The veto can be an explicit speech-act, but it may also be enacted through non-linguistic actions such as gestures (shaking one's head, rolling one's eyes), facial expressions (glowering), incorporating prohibitions into bureaucratic forms or online interfaces, and so on. 3.2. Accepting and repudiating responsibility Because extant discussions of forward-looking responsibility are built around first-personal acts of taking responsibility, the distinction between assigning responsibility and accepting the assignment of responsibility may at first seem moot. Why would anyone take responsibility for a value in one breath just to reject that same responsibility in the next? While it is true that a community could veto the agent's bid to take responsibility, the prospect does not loom large unless the assigner and the assignee are distinct. When we enlarge the universe of agents and allow for second-person and third-person assignments of responsibility, it becomes obvious that the assignee or other members of the community might resist a particular assignment. These observations make it clear that, at least in non-dictatorial communities, when ​a​1 makes a bid to assign ​a​2 responsibility for ​v​, both ​a​2 and other members of the community typically have the opportunity to say no. How easy and effective such naysaying is depends on whether the assignment was an invitation, a request, a plea, an offer of bribe, a threat of blackmail, an order, or some other speech-act. For our purposes, it's important to bear in mind that the assignment may be non-verbal and tacitly accepted. In such cases, the assignee and the community may end up inadvertently ratifying the assignment of responsibility without even realizing it. This points to the need for agents and the communities they inhabit to audit the distribution of responsibilities and sometimes to repudiate some assignments. Such repudiation may be called for when someone who initially took responsibility for a value is no longer trusted to protect, promote, pursue, or 7 preserve it. It may be called for when the assigner no longer needs to trust another agent to uphold the value. It may also be called for when someone realizes that they have tacitly accepted the assignment of responsibility for a value that they should not own. If this is right, then at the moments of taking and assigning, and for an indefinite period thereafter, members of responsibility communities need to monitor and occasionally revise the distribution of responsibilities amongst themselves. They manage this via tacit or explicit acts of accepting and repudiating responsibility -essential elements of our responsibility-practices that Strawson and his fellow travelers neglect. 3.3 Higher-order responsibilities: powers and immunities In this section, we use Hohfeld's (1913) structural analysis of first-order and higher-order legal relations as an analogy for first-order and higher-order responsibility relations. Hohfeld's scheme is built on an ontology of agents and actions. There are four first-order legal relations that characterize agents and their actions: ​right​, ​no-right​, ​duty​, and ​privilege​. In this system, agent ​a​1 has a right to perform action φ just in case all other agents ​a​2, ​a​3, ... , ​a​n have a correlative duty to allow (i.e., not to prevent) ​a​1 doing φ. By contrast, ​a​1 has no-right to φ just in case at least one other agent ​a​i does not have a duty to allow ​a​1 doing φ; in other words, ​a​1 has no-right to φ just in case at least one other agent ​a​i has the privilege to prevent ​a​1 from φing. Higher-order legal relations concern not base-level actions but actions that do or would alter existing legal relations. As with first-order legal relations, there are four higher-order legal relations: ​power, disability, liability, and immunity​. In Hohfeld's scheme, agent ​a​1 has the power to change R (where R is a first-order or higher-order relation) just in case there is some agent ​a​i who has a liability to changes in R. For instance, while you may currently have property rights over some object (i.e., all others have a duty not to use the object without your consent), a judge may have the power to strip you of that right (e.g., when applying a legal penalty). And while you may currently lack property rights over some object, a judge may grant you that right (e.g., when granting compensatory damages). Powers can also be over higher-order legal relations. For instance, in the United States a judge may be stripped of the second-order power to alter property rights through Congress's exercise of the third-order power of conviction for impeachable high crimes and misdemeanors. Just as powers are interdefinable with correlative liabilities, disabilities are interdefinable with correlative immunities. Agent ​a​1 has immunity to changes in relation R just in case all other agents have the disability to change R (equivalently, no agent other than ​a​1 has the power to change R). An inalienable right is a right that is also protected by immunity (and immunity of that immunity, and immunity of that immunity of that immunity, and so on). For example, not only does everyone have a right not to be enslaved (everyone has a duty not to enslave them), but 8 that right is immune to all powers that might alter it (everyone has a disability to change that right). These relations are summarized in Tables 1 and 2. Table 1: first-order legal relations.​ This table illustrates the four Hohfeldian first-order legal relations. a ​has a right to φ ← contraries → a​ has no-right to φ ↑ correlates ↓ ↑ correlates ↓ ∀​b​∊A ​b​ has a duty to allow ​a​ to φ ← contraries → ∃​b​∊A​ ​s.t. ​b ​has a privilege to prevent a ​from φing Table 2: higher-order legal relations.​ This table illustrates the four Hohfeldian higher-order legal relations. a ​has a power over R ← contraries → ∀​b​∊A ​b​ has​ ​a disability to change a​'s possession of R ↑ correlates ↓ ↑ correlates ↓ ∃​b​∊A​ ​s.t. ​b​'s possession of R is liable to changes by ​a ← contraries → a ​has immunity with respect to R We can understand the possession of forward-looking and backward-looking responsibilities as analogous to first-order legal relations. Agent ​a ​has a forward-looking responsibility for ​v​ just in case other members of the community have a moral right to hold ​a​ responsible (subject to exempting and excusing conditions) for failing to protect, promote, pursue, or preserve ​v​. Likewise, we can understand taking responsibility, assigning responsibility, accepting responsibility, and repudiating responsibility as analogous to higher-order legal relations. Taking, assigning, or repudiating responsibility is the enactment or expression of a ​power​ over forward-looking responsibilities. Thus, in order for ​a​1 to take or repudiate responsibility for ​v​, ​a​1 must have a ​liability​ with respect to forward-looking responsibility for ​v​. Likewise, in order for a​2 to assign ​a​1 responsibility for ​v​ or veto ​a​1's taking responsibility for ​v​, ​a​1 must have a liability with respect to forward-looking responsibility for ​v​. In cases where ​a​2 lacks standing to assign forward-looking responsibility for ​v​ to ​a​1, we can say that ​a​1 has ​immunity ​with respect to that responsibility while ​a​2 has a disability. 9 In the next section, we show that responsibility-assigning and -repudiating nudges presuppose higher-order moral powers, liabilities, and immunities. While such powers and immunities are sometimes embodied, they are not always. In such cases, nudging is morally problematic. 4. Nudge This supplementation of the Strawsonian framework offers a helpful way of understanding how nudges, though a recent development spurred on by advances in behavioral economics, jibe with established responsibility practices. So-called ​choice architects​ design and structure choice situations in ways that conduce to the performance of certain target actions (or omissions). These nudges work by exploiting widespread decisional heuristics and biases of which most of us are generally unaware (Thaler & Sunstein 2008). Although most of the discussion about nudges focuses on their use by allegedly well-meaning policy makers who are motivated to steer citizen behavior in ways that promote well-being, the use of such interventions is by no means restricted to benevolent government agents. By setting the default for participation in some scheme or plan as opt-out rather than opt-in, policy makers have increased organ-donation status and companies have increased participation in corporate pension schemes (Shepherd et al 2014 ; Beshears et al. 2017). By diminishing the effort an agent has to make in order to secure some benefit or status, universities increased the likelihood that students of lower socioeconomic status would matriculate just by sending them application forms that were filled in with information from the family's previous year's tax returns (Castleman & Page 2016). A third kind of nudge involves the explicit or implicit communication of socially accepted norms. The Guatemalan government decreased rates of tax evasion by sending out letters that indicate that evasion rates are quite low (Kettle et al. 2016). These cases exemplify three nudge types, and it will suffice for our purposes to focus on them. The key question here is how the practice of nudging can be understood in light of the framework developed above. The relevant agents in this framework are policy makers and business managers, who are potential responsibility assignors, and citizens and employees, who are candidate responsibility assignees. The nudges that are implemented by the former groups target those in the latter groups and, if successful, result in the nudgee having taken responsibility for various distinct values. Regarding these values, there are three candidates that are the most relevant here. The first and perhaps most obvious is​ the value of whatever boost in well-being obtains as a result of the nudgee performing the target action​. This may be an increase in her own well being, as in the case of nudges that impact decisions that influence health or financial stability. If a1 successfully nudges a2 to save more for retirement, a2 will effectively be accepting responsibility for the value of being in a position to live comfortably in retirement. A second value is that of the nudged agent ​coming to meet her obligations​ (or forward-looking responsibilities) as a result of performing the nudged action. Sticking with the 10 savings nudge, a1's nudge, if successful, induces a2 to perform an action that amounts to the meeting of a standing obligation to her future self and her family, and which is necessary for the performance of downstream actions that are also plausible moral obligations (such as making effective charitable donations or supporting friends in financial need). In this case the nudged agent accepts responsibility for the value of meeting obligations that she has. The third value is more normatively momentous. It involves a1 making it the case that the nudgee is in a position to realize a new value or meet some new obligation (or responsibility). When a nudge is successful at getting prospective students to matriculate to university, these nudged agents will incur all the new forward-looking responsibilities associated with being university students (such as not plagiarizing). Not only will these nudged agents be in a position to realize the particular values associated with being students, but they will also have a new set of moral obligations. In a similar fashion, someone defaulted into a pension plan accepts new responsibilities -those that come with managing and preserving one's nest egg. There are thus three candidate values that nudged agents, as a result of being nudged, can accept responsibility for (some bearer of value, meeting one's existing obligations, and meeting new obligations). Against this background we can see how the higher-order responsibility relations discussed in the previous section apply. When choice architects succeed, they are engaged in the practice of assigning responsibility, and so we can question whether they (should) have the power to do so and, correlatively, whether nudgees are relevantly liable to this assignment. Another relevant issue concerns accepting and repudiating responsibility. If the nudged agent accepts responsibility for the relevant values, then we can also say that she's liable to the responsiblity assignment. Similarly, her repudiation of the responsibility assignment, if the nudger had the power to make the assignment in the first place, can only occur after the assignment has been made. Just to take one example, you might have been nudged via an enrollment default to have employer-subsidized health insurance, but later decide to cancel it as a money-saving measure. You thereby repudiate the forward-looking responsibility to maintain access to affordable health services. Finally, consider the issue of immunity and correlative disability. If there's reason to think that agents are immune from being nudged into accepting responsibility for some value, then it follows that all possible nudgers have the disability to make the relevant responsibility assignment. This might occur if an accepted social norm entails that certain choice domains ought to be free of influence by government agents or employers. Presumably, our decisions about whom to vote for ought to be immune from influence by policy makers or political parties in power. Few people would accept a policy of having one's ballot filled in with preferences for candidates that promise to support policies that promote one's self interest. Plausible and widely accepted democratic principles disable governments from nudging votes in this way, even if the effect of voting defaults allow citizens to realize some political outcome that is valuable to them (or to satisfy their civic duty of supporting non-fascistic 11 candidates, for example). Another area in which we might think such immunity obtains is being nudged into marital relationships with particular partners. At this point one might wonder whether the mechanism by which nudges assign these responsibilities -by capitalizing on (or exploiting) our cognitive and behavioral quirks, many of which we are unaware of -raises worries about manipulation. The same considerations that justify immunity against voting nudges, namely that they manipulate agents to making decisions that they might not otherwise make in the absence of the nudges, might generalize. Why not also conclude that governments and companies that nudge us to making responsible choices are also manipulating us? If manipulation suffices for immunity in the one nudge, perhaps it should do so for all of them. One might think that nudgers are taking what Strawson (1962) called the objective attitude with respect to nudgees. Rather than viewing nudgees as equal participants in the moral community whose autonomy should be respected, the nudger sees them as objects to be controlled and manipulated. The question whether nudges are manipulative in a way that entails universal immunity is too broad for our purposes, but what we do in the final section is appeal to the framework developed in this chapter in order to highlight other features of particular nudges that might make them morally problematic. In so doing we show that our framework offers a novel way of mapping this normative terrain. 5. When (not) to assign responsibility via nudging It is constructive to think about the ethics of nudges by viewing them through the lens of power relationships and the kind of moral principles that govern them. Of central relevance here are considerations that are typically taken to confer and legitimate the power of governments or private agents to assign responsibility to others. On the other side are considerations that support claims of immunity of individuals against such assignments. The permissibility of some nudge will depend in part on whether the balance of reasons supports the nudger's power to assign responsibility or the claim that some agent has to immunity. A related factor is the nudged agent's (and her community's) acceptance or repudiation of the responsibilities assigned. In this final section we consider two distinct ways of grounding the claim that a nudge is problematic. 5.1 No power to assign responsibility There are certain domains in which governments, companies, and institutions clearly have the power to assign responsibilities and other domains in which they clearly don't. Policies that require parents to take responsibility for their children's welfare will strike many as legitimate. No individuals are better-placed than parents to discharge this obligation, and it is a weighty obligation indeed. These facts plausibly confer power on the state to assign parents caregiving responsibilities. But are the nudges currently deployed by governments relevantly similar? There are at least two dissimilarities. First, the kinds of values at stake in the assignments of 12 responsibility involved in nudges are multifarious and don't always involve getting an agent to meet her standing obligations. As discussed above, nudges that default into organ-donation schemes have a primarily axiological aim. Plausibly, the strength of whatever consideration underwrites the power to nudge will vary with the goal of the nudge. When the nudge would merely realize some good, the case for the state having the power to meddle in the lives of its citizens might be weaker than it would be if the nudge would realize the meeting of one's obligations. That is, when it comes to power-conferral, axiological purposes are weaker than deontic. Furthermore, there might be room within these two types of purposes for further relevant distinctions. Regarding value, a nudge might target the general societal good or something good for the nudged agent herself, and regarding obligation, a nudge might enable an agent to meet an obligation that she has to herself or an obligation that she has regarding others. Table 3 represents a plausible rendering of how much these aims would support a nudger's claim to the power to assign responsibility. Table 3: A rough rank ordering of the degree to which different types of nudges confer power on the nudger to assign responsibility. Nudge aim Degree of power-conferring support Example Realize value to society Low Organ-donation defaults Realize value to the nudgee herself Low-moderate Pension-plan defaults Meet obligations to nudgee herself Moderate Easier-to-complete college applications Meet obligations to others High Information about neighbor's energy consumption To be sure, this is just one way of characterizing the strength or power-conferring support that these nudges have. The norms accepted by a particular community concerning the importance of these generally-described aims may differ from this one. What this motivates is a demand that particular nudge proponents proffer reasons to accept their claim to have the power to assign responsibilities via their nudges. When the degree of power-conferring support is plausibly low, there's a risk that the balance of reasons will not ground the power to nudge. 13 5.2 Immunity against responsibility-assignments Even when there is a high degree of power-conferring support for some nudge, perhaps because it enables a nudgee to meet many obligations, immunity may nevertheless obtain. As mentioned above, there are certain domains in which many communities are likely to accept norms that rule out paternalism of any kind. In addition to voting and marital decisions, one might think that paternalism, even the soft paternalism of nudges, should be forbidden in the context of healthcare decisions (White 2016). A second way of being immune is repudiation by individuals or the community. This repudiation can be actual or hypothetical. For instance, In 2010 the Swiss municipality of St. Galen voted in a referendum to shift its energy production to greener sources; the local power utility then used default nudges to assign residents (in the first instance) to slightly more expensive but greener mixes of electricity sources. While citizens could choose to switch to cheaper, higher-polluting mixes (or an even greener mix), the default nudge had a large effect (Chassot et al. 2014). In voting to take responsibility for shifting their energy supply, the denizens of St. Galen conferred democratic legitimacy on this nudge, relinquishing any claim to immunity. We can easily imagine another municipality holding a similar referendum and choosing not to shift their energy mix. In such a case, it seems clear that nudging them to accept responsibility for paying for greener power would violate their immunity. 5.3 Conclusion In this section we've shown that the framework of assigning responsibilities offers a novel orientation for thinking about the ethics of nudges and of other moral technologies. By shifting the focus to the power wielded by choice architects and the potential immunity of their targets, we can move beyond concerns about manipulation and autonomy. Nudges are just one way in which we engage in the practice of assigning, accepting, and repudiating responsibilities, and so the same normative frameworks that are appropriate to the latter should be brought to bear on the former. References Alfano, M. (2013). ​Character as Moral Fiction​. Cambridge University Press. Austin, J. L. (1975). ​How to Do Things with Words​. Harvard University Press. Austin, J. L. (1979). A plea for excuses. In J. O. Urmson & G. J. Warnock (eds.), ​Philosophical Papers​. Oxford University Press. Bartlett, B. (2017, April 3). Jared Kushner, the assistant with the big portfolio. ​The New York Times​. Url = < https://www.nytimes.com/2017/04/03/opinion/jared-kushner-the-assistant-with-the-big-p ortfolio.html >. Accessed 5 January 2018. 14 Bell, M. (2013). ​Hard Feelings: The Moral Psychology of Contempt​. Oxford University Press. Beshears, J. Benartzi, S., Mason, R., & Milkman, K. (2017). How do consumers respond when default options push the envelope? Available at SSRN: url = < https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3050562 >. Castleman, B. & Page, L. (2014). Freshman year financial aid nudges: An experiment to increase FAFSA renewal and college persistence. ​Journal of Human Resources​, 51(2): 389-415. Chassot, S., Wüstenhagen, R., Fahr, N., & Graf, P. (2014). Introducing green electricity as the default option. In C. Herbes & C. Friege (eds.), ​Marketing Renewable Energy: Concepts, Business Models, and Cases​. Springer. Darby, D. & Branscombe, N. (2014). Beyond the sins of the fathers: Responsibility for inequality. ​Midwest Studies in Philosophy​, 38: 121-37. Darwall, S. (2018). Contempt as an other-characterizing, "hierarchizing" attitude. In M. Mason (ed.), ​The Moral Psychology of Contempt​. Rowman & Littlefield. Dunbar, R. (1992). Neocortex size as a constraint on group size in primates. ​Journal of Human Evolution​, 22(6): 469-93. Dunbar, R. (1993). Coevolution of neocortical size, group size and language in humans. Behavioral and Brain Sciences​, 16(4): 681-735. Fischer, J. M. & Ravizza, M. (1998). ​Responsibility and Control: A Theory of Moral Responsibility​. Cambridge University Press. Goodin, R. (1998). ​Social Welfare and Individual Responsibility​. Cambridge University Press. Hauser, C. (2016, October 14). Black doctor says Delta flight attendant rejected her; sought 'actual physician'. ​The New York Times​. Url = < https://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/15/us/black-doctor-says-delta-flight-attendant-brushed -her-aside-in-search-of-an-actual-physician.html >. Accessed 5 January 2018. Hohfeld, W. (1913), Some fundamental legal conceptions as applied in judicial reasoning. ​Yale Law Journal​, 23(1): 16-59. Kettle, S., Hernandez, M., Ruda, S., & Sanders, M. (2016). Behavioral interventions in tax compliance: Evidence from Guatemala. ​World Bank Policy Research Working Papers​. URL = < https://doi.org/10.1596/1813-9450-7690 >. Manne, K. (2017). ​Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny​. Oxford University Press. Mason, M. (2018). Contempt: At the limits of reactivity. In M. Mason (ed.), ​The Moral Psychology of Contempt​. Rowman & Littlefield. McKiernan, A. (2016). Standing conditions and blame. ​Southwest Philosophy Review​, 32(1): 145-51. Searle, J. (1995). ​The Construction of Social Reality​. Free Press. Sellars, W. (1954). Some reflections on language games. ​Philosophy of Science​, 21(3): 204-28. Shepherd, L., O'Carroll, R., & Ferguson, E. (2014). An international comparison of deceased and living organ donation/transplant rates in opt-in and opt-out systems: A panel study. BMC Medicine​ 12(131). URL = < https://doi.org/10.1186/s12916-014-0131-4 >. 15 Strawson, P. (1962). Freedom and resentment. ​Proceedings of the British Academy​, 48: 1-25, reprinted in G. Watson (Ed.) (2003). ​Free Will, 2nd edition. ​Oxford: 72-93 Thaler, R. & Sunstein, R. (2008). ​Nudge: Improving Decisions about Health, Wealth, and Happiness​. Yale University Press. Todd, P. (forthcoming). A unified account of the moral standing to blame. ​Nous​. Van de Poel, I. (2011). The relations between forward-looking and backward-looking responsibility. In N. Vincent, I. van de Poel, & J. van den Hoeven (eds.), ​Moral Responsibility: Beyond Free Will and Determinism​. Springer. Vargas, M. (2013 )​Building Better Beings: A Theory of Moral Responsibility​. Oxford University Press. Watson, G. (1987). Responsibility and the limits of evil. In F. Schoeman (ed.), ​Responsibility, Character, and the Emotions​. Cambridge University Press. White, M. D. (2016). Bad Medicine: Does the unique nature of health care decisions justify nudges? In ​edited by I.G. Cohen, H.F. Lynch, and C. Robertson​ ​Nudging Health: Health Law and Behavioral Economics​. Johns Hopkins University Press Wittgenstein, L. (1953). ​Philosophical Investigations​. G. E. M. Anscombe & R. Rhees (eds.), G. E. M. Anscombe (trans.). Blackwell.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
THE ROLE OF MASS MEDIA IN CHURCH DEVELOPMENT IN THE TWENTY FIRST CENTURY BY OFFIONG O. ASUQUO, Ph.D INTRODUCTION The life of man has been influenced greatly by modern Mass Media in the 21st century. Such Media include the radio, television, newspaper, magazines, billboards, internet, cable networks, mobile phones, pamphlets, handbills among others. They have greatly enhanced the instant or rapid transfer of information, opinion and ideas. These have influenced man positively and negatively in all aspects of life, ranging from physical, educational, moral, economic to spiritual and religious. Hence this write up has been conceived to explore and highlight the role of the mass media in church development in the 215 century. The mass media is very influential in human life. This is because it enhances rapid communication of news, information, ideas and opinions which affect and influence human life positively and negatively. This two edged influence is also applicable in the religious life of man. The mass media has been used to communicate and influence the growth and development of religious organizations, such as churches. On the other hand, the media in some cases, has contributed to some problems in the church through its abuse and misuse, such as the communication of false doctrines, propaganda and inciting of members to rebel against church authorities. This paper attempts to highlight both the positive and negative roles of the mass media in church development, in addition to suggesting ways of improvement. DEFINITION OF TERMS a. Mass Media, Medium (Singular) This is defined as a means, instrument, agency or substance through which communication is maintained or effected (Kirkpatrick 782). Such medium or mediâ include public address systems, radio, television, magazines, journals, pamphlets, compact and digital disc, projectors, cinemas, internet and social media like facebook and tweeters. In other words, it involves any means of communication with a large number of people (Webster 301). It is the means of delivering information, ideas and attitudes to a sizeable and diversified audience through the use of media developed for the purpose. b. Church Church refers to a group or association of professing Christians and to the building in which they worship. It also refers to the body and bride of Christ (Concise 1 69), which is universal, invisible and spiritual. These views are confirmed by Wharton, as he identifies the church both as a place of worship and the body of believers (83). This body of believers which are called out, exist in various parts of the world and in different generations. Some have departed from this world. The church can be viewed in two ways, the invisible and universal church on one hand, and the visible congregation of believers that meets locally in a particular place. In summary, it refers to a called out people who profess the same faith in Christ; it also refers to a group of such believers who meet and worship together in a local place. c. Development Development could be used to describe a negative or positive occurrence. In the negative sense, it could describe the worsening of a situation. On the positive side, it could describe an improvement of a situation. Mussen defines psychological development as a sequence of stages that define progress towards a most mature level and function (34). Notable here are the word "stages" and "progress towards maturity". Chambers adds that to develop, means to unroll, to lay open by degrees, to bring out what is latent or potential, to bring to a more advanced or more highly organized state; to work out the potentialities of, to cause to grow, to build, to advance through successive stages to a higher, more complex or more fully grown state (340). While Uduigwomen holds that development goes beyond economic sphere to other areas of human endeavors such as moral, social, spiritual or political life (Lecture Series). It is in the light of this meaning of development that this paper will examine the role or contribution of the mass media towards it in the next section. The Positive Role of Mass Media in Church Development Mass media is used in most meetings and activities of the church, before, during and in some case afterwards. Such meetings range from Sunday meetings, rallies, prayer meetings to conventions, fund raising functions, weddings, funerals, memorial services, singsong nights, outdoor witness services, evangelical campaigns among others. These meetings are vital in the development of the church, and since mass media is greatly used in these meetings and activities, it is necessary to look at the place and role of the media in these meetings and in other areas which have contributed to the development of the church. These include the spiritual, numerical, social and economic development of the church. a. Spiritual Development This refers to an increase in godliness, and Christ-likeness. It is initiated and enhanced through evangelism, conversion, water baptism, preachings, teachings, exhortations, prayers, fastings, Bible studies among others. Most of these activities require the use of mass media organs which ensure and enhance their effectiveness and success. For instance public address systems, tracts, pamphlets, magazines, internet and cable networks are utilized in evangelism and teachings in the twenty first century church. Some sermons and teachings are communicated and recorded in compact and digital discs, and through close circuit television systems and video recorders. This manner of communicating the word of God ensures that it reaches a wide audience effectively and clearly. The durable nature of the magazines, compact and digital disc, ensure there durability of the messages they contain. This situation contributes to the spiritual growth of the church as the members study and utilize the contents of the media. b. Numerical Development The mass media also plays a part in the numerical development of the church. This numerical development is in the form of growth and expansion of the church. It is both internal and external. It is internal in the sense that each congregation grows in membership and new intakes, and external in the sense that the church is establishing new assemblies, groups, area, fields, parishes, zones or dioceses as the case may be. Some of the ways through which new members join the church are through invitations, evangelical meetings, gospel and prayer meetings, conventions, crusades, conferences, while some are born into the church. The mass media and their personnel, contribute to ensure this numerical growth by enhancing effective publicity and communication of the word of God to the prospective converts, it is also utilized in publicizing, creating awareness and inviting people to these meetings. In addition, the word of God can also be communicated to many people in far and widespread areas over a long period of time, through media organs like books, journals, magazines, digital and compact discs. All these contribute to enhance the numerical growth and development of the church. c. Social Development The social Development of the church should be seen in terms of its growing relevance, popularity and acceptability by the society, it should also be viewed in terms of the growing cooperation and unity among members of the church in different congregations and denominations, which enhance social interaction among members. The media plays a part in this development because it is often used to create awareness and publicity of church programmes. Information, news and instructions are also circulated.to members and others about church affairs. The use of the media contributes to and enhances the success of church programmes and interactions amongst members, this in turn enhances the social development of the church. d. Economic Development Economic development refers to the increasing ability to finance and implement various projects, and to maintain the smooth operation of the church. Such projects may include the purchase of lands, building projects, purchase of equipment, establishment of new churches and the financial empowerment of the church and members. One important way of financing these is through donations, offerings and fund raising functions. The mass media plays an important role in these functions, because it ensures the publicity through the use of radio, television, adverts, handbills, posters and flyers. Thus it creates awareness and serves as an invitation to many. A proper and effective use of the mass media on these occasions, ensures a large turnout and consequently a large income. Economic development is closely linked to numerical development, it is assumed that as the church grows numerically, so it will also develop in financial and economic ability. More members imply an increase in' offerings, church income and economic ability. It should be recalled here, that the mass media contributes to the numerical growth which in turn contributes to the economic and financial growth of the church. 4. The Negative Role of Mass Media Various views exist concerning the negative role of the Mass media in the church. Some are debatable and depend on the circumstances and background of the people concerned. For instance, some people are of the view that the use of mass media has the following negative effects, they cause excitements, distractions and pride, they tend to be worldly and unspiritual, they are expensive to acquire and maintain, and many people are unable to utilize or benefit from them. Other views hold that some of the mass media circulate falsehoods, heresy and fanatical doctrines, slander and incitements to rebellion or riot. This paper will critically look at these views of the negative role of the mass media in church development today. The view that it creates excitement, distractions and pride depends on other circumstances. It may be applicable in a church in which most of the members are not educated, unenlightened or exposed to modern technology. Hence, the introduction of such media equipped will create such excitements and pride which could hinder the church development temporarily. But this may not happen in a church in which the members are enlightened and used to modern technology. The view that mass media encourage worldliness and carnality can be neutralized by the argument that it is a neutral tool which can be used positively and negatively like a knife, which can be used to slice meat and fruits, or to attack and injure a person. The effects depend on the intention of the controllers and users of the mass media. The view that they are expensive to acquire and maintain is true to an extent. The acquisition and installation of electronic and print media is costly, but the production of posters, handbills, magazines and production of commercial adverts are not very expensive. Moreover, their positive contributions to church development somehow overwhelm the negative impact of their cost. The view that many are unable to utilize or benefit from some of them is true to an extent. A certain level of education is needed in order to understand, send and receive information through the mass media. An uneducated member cannot read or write in a magazine. He will not benefit from the handbills or posters that communicate information to many. On the other hand, some educated people do not have time or interest to read and receive the information. Some information that are sent through radio and other electronic media may not be received by some members due to lack of power supply. Similarly, information communicated through internet or websites, are not accessible to many due to ignorance and inability to access the interest. In addition, the cell phone has also distracted and hindered church development. Many misuse the phone, some are distracted by phone use during church programmes, some others waste precious time on the internet viewing harmful things. CONCLUSION The paper has revealed and established that the mass media has greatly influenced the life of man in the twenty first century, including the religious aspect. This is through the instant or rapid transfer of information, ideas, teachings, seminars and other programmes of the church. This has contributed to the growth and development of the church. This development is observed from various perspectives, namely; spiritual, numerical, social and economic, all of which are related and unite to bring about the wellbeing of the church. The mass media has enhanced and simplified mass evangelism, teachings and conferences which involve people in different locations for apart. It has enhanced the running and administration of the church, through the easy communication of policies to a large congregation. On the other hand, the media has been misused by some people to communicate heresies, slander, lies or incitements. The misuse of the phone can result in worldliness, waste of precious time on ungodly things and distractions during church meetings. It is also expensive to acquire, maintain and utilize some of the media tools, and all members of the church are unable to do this due to several reasons. Despite these disadvantages, the benefit of using the mass media far outweighs them. Thus the twenty first century church needs the mass media, in order to be relevant. RECOMMENDATIONS In view of the role of the mass media in church development today, the adoption of the following recommendations will further enhance its roles. More churches should be encouraged to utilize aspects of the media which may be useful in their operations. Examples include handbills, bulletins, journals or notice boards. Personnel should be regularly trained to operate and maintain the media equipment and to utilize them. This issue of training is supported by Chaplin who stresses the need for trained media practitioners to communicate the word of God in order to do it effectively (21). Akinfeleye also supports this view as he stresses the need for adequately trained people to ensure effective practice of mass communication (22). In addition there should be a proper maintenance of mass media equipment, tools and personnel. On the other hand in order to check the negative role of the media, members should be encouraged to put God first in everything and to do everything to God's glory. Seminars should be organized in which members are taught the benefit of the mass media to the church and how to enjoy these benefits fully. Mass media units should be set up in various church congregations or assemblies. These units should ensure the effective use of mass media by the church, and also coordinate all related processes. These suggestions, if implemented, could go a long way to sustain and in enhance the positive role of the mass media in church development in the twenty first century. WORKS CITED Akinfeleye, R. A. Essentials of Modern African Journalism: A Premier. Lagos: Miral, 1 982. Chaplin, Joyce. Adventure with A Pen: A Challenge to Christian Writing. London: African Christian Press, 1972. Concise Bible Dictionary. Dillenburg: Gute Botschaft, 1 993. Kirkpatrick, E. M. (Ed.) Chambers 20 Century Dictionary Edinburgh. W&R Chambers, 1 983. Mussen, P. M. (Et Al. Ed) Child Development and Personality (4th Edition). New York: Harper & Row, 1 974. Uduigwomen, Andrew; 'Philosophy As A Tool of National Development (A Lecture delivered at the University of Calabar), Calabar, 1989.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Tarski Benedict Eastaugh April 30, 2015 1 Introduction It is hard to overstate Alfred Tarski's impact on logic. Such were the importance and breadth of his results and so influential was the school of logicians he trained that the entire landscape of the field would be radically different without him. In the following chapter we shall focus on three topics: Tarski's work on formal theories of semantic concepts, particularly his definition of truth; set theory and the Banach–Tarski paradox; and finally the study of decidable and undecidable theories, determining which classes of mathematical problems can be solved by a computer and which cannot. Tarski was born Alfred Tajtelbaum in Warsaw in 1901, to a Jewish couple, Ignacy Tajtelbaum and Rosa Prussak. During his university education, from 1918 to 1924, logic in Poland was flourishing, and Tarski took courses with many famous members of the Lvov–Warsaw school, such as Tadeusz Kotarbiński, Stanis law Leśniewski and Jan Lukasiewicz. Prejudice against Jews was widespread in interwar Poland, and fearing that he would not get a faculty position, the young Alfred Tajtelbaum changed his name to Tarski. An invented name with no history behind it, Alfred hoped it would sound suitably Polish. The papers confirming the change came through just before completing his doctorate (he was the youngest ever to be awarded one by the University of Warsaw), and he was therefore awarded the degree under his new name of Alfred Tarski. Struggling to obtain a position in line with his obvious brilliance, Tarski took a series of poorly-paid teaching and research jobs at his alma mater, supporting himself by teaching highschool mathematics. It was there that he met the woman who would become his wife, fellow teacher Maria Witkowska. They married in 1929, and had two children: their son Jan was born in 1934, and their daughter Ina followed in 1938. Passed over for a professorship at the University of Lvov in 1930, and another in Poznan in 1937, Tarski was unable to secure the stable employment he craved in Poland. Despite these professional setbacks, Tarski produced a brilliant series of publications throughout the 1920s and 1930s. His work on the theory of truth laid the ground not only for model theory and a proper understanding of the classical logical consequence relation, but also for research on the concept of truth that is still bearing fruit today. Tarski's decision procedure for elementary algebra and geometry, which he regarded as one of his two most important contributions, was also developed in this period. In 1939 he took ship to the United States for a lecture tour, with a thought of finding employment there. Seemingly oblivious to the impending conflagration, Tarski nevertheless contrived to escape mere weeks before war with Germany broke out, but leaving his wife and children behind. Working as an itinerant lecturer at Harvard, the City College of New York, Princeton and Berkeley, Tarski spent the war years separated from his family. 1 Back in Poland, Maria, Jan and Ina were taken into hiding by friends. Despite intermittent reports that they were still alive, Tarski spent long periods without news, and his attempts to extricate them from Poland were all in vain. It was not until the conclusion of the war that he learned that while his wife and children had survived, most of the rest of his family had not. His parents perished in Auschwitz, while his brother Wac law was killed in the Warsaw Uprising of 1944. About thirty of Tarski's close relatives were amongst the more than three million Polish Jews murdered in the Holocaust, along with many of his colleagues and students, including the logician Adolf Lindenbaum and his wife, the philosopher of science Janina Hosiasson-Lindenbaum. In 1945, Tarski gained the permanent position he craved at UC Berkeley, where Maria and the children joined him in 1946. Made professor in 1948, Tarski remained in California until his death in 1983. There he built a school in logic and the philosophy of science and mathematics that endures to this day: a testament to his brilliance as a scholar, his inspirational qualities as a teacher, and his sheer force of personality. The most universally known and acclaimed part of Tarski's career consists of his work on the theory of truth, so it is natural that we begin our journey there. Section 2 starts from the liar paradox, and then turns to Tarski's celebrated definition of truth for formalised languages. This leads us to the undefinability theorem: that no sufficiently expressive formal system can define its own truth predicate. Much of Tarski's early research was in set theory. Although he remained interested in the area for the rest of his working life, his best-known contribution to the field remains the paradoxical decomposition of the sphere which he developed in collaboration with Stefan Banach, colloquially known as the Banach–Tarski paradox. This striking demonstration of the consequences of the Axiom of Choice is explored in section 3. As a logician, only Kurt Gödel outshines Tarski in the twentieth century. His incompleteness theorems are the singular achievement around which the story of section 4 pivots. Before Gödel, logicians still held out hope for a general algorithm to decide mathematical problems. Many of this area's successes in the 1920s are due to Tarski and his Warsaw students, such as the discovery that when formulated in a language without the multiplication symbol, the theory of arithmetic is decidable. In 1936, five years after Gödel's discovery of incompleteness, Alonzo Church and Alan Turing showed that the general decision problem for first-order logic was unsolvable. The focus then turned from complete, decidable systems to incomplete, undecidable ones, and once again Tarski and his school were at the forefront. Peano arithmetic was incomplete and undecidable; how much could it be weakened and retain these properties? What were the lower bounds for undecidability? This is only intended as a brief introduction to Tarski's life and work, and as such there are many fascinating results, connections and even whole areas of study which must go unaddressed. Fortunately the history of logic has benefitted in recent years from some wonderful scholarship. The encyclopaedic Handbook of the History of Logic is one such endeavour, and Keith Simmons's chapter on Tarski [Simmons 2009] contains over a hundred pages. Tarski is also the subject of an engrossing biography by Anita Burdman Feferman, together with her husband and Tarski's former student, Solomon Feferman [Feferman and Feferman 2004]. Entitled Alfred Tarski: Life and Logic, it mixes a traditional biography of Tarski's colourful life with technical interludes explaining some of the highlights of Tarski's work. Finally, in addition to being a logician of the first rank, Tarski was an admirably clear communicator. His books and papers, far from being of merely historical interest, remain stimulating reading for logicians and philosophers. Many of them, including early papers originally published in Polish or German, are collected in the volume Logic, Semantics, Metamathematics [Tarski 1983]. 2 2 The theory of truth Semantic concepts are those which concern the meanings of linguistic expressions, or parts thereof. Amongst the most important of these concepts are truth, logical consequence and definability. All of these concepts were known in Tarski's day to lead to paradoxes. The most famous of these is the liar paradox. Consider the sentence "Snow is white". Is it true, or false? Snow is white: so the sentence "Snow is white" is true. If snow were not white then it would be false. Now consider the sentence "This sentence is false". Is it true, or false? If it's true, then the sentence is false. But if it's false, then the sentence is true. So we have a contradiction whichever truth value we assign to the sentence. This sentence is known as the liar sentence. In everyday speech and writing, we appear to use truth in a widespread and coherent way. Truth is a foundational semantic concept, and therefore one which we might naively expect to obtain a satisfactory philosophical understanding of. The liar paradox casts doubt on this possibility: it does not seem to require complex or far-fetched assumptions about language in order to manifest itself, but instead arises from commonplace linguistic devices and usage such as our ability to both use and mention parts of speech, the property of bivalence and the typical properties we ascribe to the truth predicate such as disquotation. 2.1 Tarski's definition of truth Both their apparent ambiguity and paradoxes like the liar made mathematicians wary of semantic concepts. Tarski's analyses of truth, logical consequence and definability for formal languages thus formed major contributions to both logic and philosophy. This paved the way for model theory and much of modern mathematical logic on the one hand; and renewed philosophical interest in these semantic notions-which continues to this day-on the other. In his seminal 1933 paper 'On the Concept of Truth in Formalized Languages' [1933], Tarski offered an analysis of the liar paradox. To understand Tarski's analysis, we first need to make a few conceptual points. The first turns on the distinction between use and mention. If we were to say that Tarski was a logician, we would be using the name "Tarski"-but if we said that "Tarski" was the name that logician chose for himself, we would be mentioning it. In the written forms of natural language we often distinguish between using a term and mentioning it by quotation marks. When we say that "Snow is white" is true if, and only if, snow is white, we both use and mention the sentence "Snow is white". The liar paradox seems to rely on our ability not merely to use sentences-that is, to assert or deny them-but on our ability to refer to them. The locution "This sentence" in the liar sentence refers to (that is, mentions) the sentence itself, although it does not use quotation marks to do so. Consider the following variation on the liar paradox, with two sentences named A and B. Sentence A reads "Sentence B is false" while sentence B reads "Sentence A is true". We reason by cases: either sentence A is true, or it is false. If A is true, then B is false, so it is false that A is true-hence A is false, contradicting our assumption. So A must be false. But if A is false, then it is false that B is false, and so B is in fact true. B says that A is true, contradicting our assumption that it is true. So we have a contradiction either way. In his analysis of the liar paradox, Tarski singles out two key properties which a language must satisfy in order for the paradox to occur in that language. The first consists of three conditions: the language must contain names for its own sentences; it must contain a semantic predicate "x is true"; and all the sentences that determine the adequate usage of the truth predicate must be able to be stated in the language. These conditions are jointly known as semantic universality. The second property is that the ordinary laws of classical logic apply: every classically valid inference must be valid in that language. Tarski felt that rejecting the ordinary laws of logic 3 would have consequences too drastic to even consider this option, although many philosophers since have entertained the possibility of logical revision; see section 4.1 of Beall and Glanzberg [2014] for an introductory survey. Since a satisfactory analysis of truth cannot be carried out for a language in which the liar paradox occurs-as it is inconsistent-Tarski concluded that we should seek a definition of truth for languages that are not semantically universal. There are different ways for a language to fail to be semantically universal. Firstly, it could fail to have the expressive resources necessary to make assertions about its own syntax: it could have no names for its own expressions. Secondly, it could fail to contain a truth predicate. Finally, the language might have syntactic restrictions which restrict its ability to express some sentences determining the adequate usage of the truth predicate. This seems to exclude the possibility of giving a definition of truth for natural languages. Not only are they semantically universal-quotation marks, for instance, allow us to name every sentence of English within the language-but they actually aim for universality. If a natural language fails to be semantically universal then it will be expanded with new semantic resources until it regains universality. Tarski goes so far as to say that "it would not be within the spirit of [a natural language] if in some other language a word occurred which could not be translated into it" [Tarski 1983, p. 164]. When English fails to have an appropriate term to translate a foreign one, in cases like the German "schadenfreude" or the French "faux pas", the foreign term is simply borrowed and becomes a loanword in English. Tarski therefore offered his definition of truth only for formal languages. These tend to be simpler than natural languages, and thus they are more amenable to metalinguistic investigation. The particular example that Tarski used was the calculus of classes, but essentially the same approach can be used to define truth for any formal language. As is standard in the current literature on formal theories of truth, we shall use the language of arithmetic. A formal language is typically constructed by stipulating two main components. The first is the alphabet : the collection of symbols from which all expressions in the language are drawn. In the case of a first-order language like that of arithmetic, the alphabet includes (countably infinitely many) variables v0, v1, . . . ; logical constants ∀,∃,¬,∧,∨,→,↔,=; and punctuation (, ). This is then enriched by the addition of non-logical constants, function symbols and relational predicates. In the case of the first-order language of arithmetic this includes the constant symbols 0 and 1; the two binary function symbols + and ×; and the binary relation symbol <. The second component of a formal language is the formation rules, which state how one may build up wellformed formulas from the symbols of the alphabet. Again, in the case of arithmetic, these are just the standard recursive definitions familiar from first-order logic.1 A formal language is generally understood as one which can be expressed in terms of an alphabet and a set of formation rules. These rules are decidable: given a sequence s of symbols drawn from the alphabet, one can always determine in a finite number of steps whether or not the sequence is a well-formed formula of the language or not. Implicit in the circumscription of a formal system-its syntax, its semantics, its axioms and rules of inference-is the idea of the metatheory in which all of these things are laid down. One of the major innovations in logic during the first part of the twentieth century was the recognition of this fact, and the subsequent results obtained by formalising the metatheory. Tarski was one of the pioneers in this area. We call the language for which a definition of truth is to be given the object language, and the language in which we do so the metalanguage. The metalanguage can simply be an expansion of the object language with the necessary semantic terms, although this is not essential, as long as it contains translations of the terms of the object language. The metatheory is a theory-and 1See for example section 2.1 of Enderton [2001, pp. 69–79]. 4 as Tarski showed, it can be a formal theory, i.e. a set of sentences in a formal metalanguage-in which to theorise about the object theory. Here we pause to highlight a change in terminology between Tarski's work and current usage. Tarski uses the term "language" to denote what we nowadays call a formal system: not just a formal language in the sense described above, but also a set of axioms and inference rules associated with that language. In keeping with current practice, and fixing the logic throughout to be first-order classical logic, we shall be concerned with theories: sets of sentences of a given formal language, such as Peano arithmetic or ZFC. When Tarski writes of the "object language" and the "metalanguage" he thereby means what we mean when we write object theory and metatheory. As we have seen, quotation marks are not the only linguistic device by which we can refer to sentences and their components. Demonstratives and names can both be used, but in his account of truth Tarski settled on structural-descriptive names: names for primitive parts of language which can be combined to yield the names of compound expressions. In the particular case of arithmetic, this amounts to providing a formal counterpart of the description of the language of arithmetic given above. It must contain names for variables x1, x2, . . . ; names for logical vocabulary such as ¬,∧,∀; and names for grammatical symbols such as ( and ). It must also provide names for the nonlogical symbols: 0, 1,+,×, <. With the referential devices in hand, it must also provide a way to combine them to give the names of complex expressions such as terms (denoting expressions such as 1× (1 + 1)), atomic formulas like 1 = 1, and complex formulas like 1 = 0→ 1 < 0. As Corcoran notes in his introduction to [Tarski 1983], Tarski effectively provided the first formal theory of syntax, something which has gone on to become a subject of substantial importance in computer science. Tarski's approach of adding a syntax theory to the object language is currently undergoing a small revival, being used in recent work by Leigh and Nicolai [2013]. However, we shall not pursue this method further, since in most applications within logic it has been superseded by an alternative which is available in arithmetic and other suitably expressive formal systems: Gödel coding. So called because it was invented by Kurt Gödel in the course of his proof of the incompleteness theorems, Gödel coding is a way of encoding sentences in the language of arithmetic as particular natural numbers, in such a way that given any number coding a sentence we can determine just what that sentence is. The details of Gödel coding can be found in the previous chapter on Kurt Gödel; for our purposes all we need to know is that for any sentence φ in the language of arithmetic, its Gödel code pφq is a natural number, denoted by a closed term of the language-that is to say by a numeral n. Tarski stressed two qualities which any definition of truth must satisfy: formal correctness and material adequacy. The former concerns the form of the definition, namely whether it provides an explicit definition of the predicate "is true"; the latter, whether the formal definition captures our informal concept of truth. Think back to our example: "Snow is white" is true if snow is white, and false if snow is not white. In other words we have an equivalence: "Snow is white" is true if, and only if, snow is white. More generally, let S be a sentence and s a name for S. Then s is true if, and only if, S. This is Tarski's T-schema. Using Gödel coding, we can express this scheme in the formal language of arithmetic (plus the truth predicate): (T) T (pφq)↔ φ. The material adequacy condition Tarski argued for is called Convention T. According to Convention T, a materially adequate theory of truth for a language L should entail every sentence of 5 the T-schema for that language, and every Gödel code falling under the extension of the truth predicate T should stand for a sentence. Having determined the properties that a successful definition of truth should satisfy, Tarski proceeded to present his definition. The first thing to note is that Tarski defines truth in terms of another semantic notion: satisfaction. For a full formal definition the reader should consult an introductory logic textbook.2 The crucial idea is that satisfaction is a generalisation of truth, from sentences to all well-formed formulas of the language, including those with free variables. A satisfaction relation obtains between three components: a model M; an assignment s of elements of the domain of M to free variables of the language LM of M; and a formula φ in the language LM. In symbols we write this as M |= φ[s]. Satisfaction is defined recursively, so for example a model M and an assignment s satisfy a conjunction φ ∧ ψ if, and only if, φ is satisfied by M and s, and ψ is satisfied by M and s. Consider the following example, where we fix the model to be the standard natural numbers N. Take the formula φ = v1 < 1 ∧ v2 = 0, and a satisfaction function s1 such that s1(v1) = 0 and s1(v2) = 0. Then we can see that the left conjunct "v1 < 1" is satisfied by s1 (and N), since s1(v1) < 1, and so is the right conjunct "v2 = 0", since s1(v2) = 0. Therefore the entire formula φ is satisfied by s1. Truth is defined as the limit case where no free variables appear in a formula: given some model M, a sentence φ is true in M if, and only if, for every assignment s, M and s satisfy φ. In the specific case of the language of arithmetic and the standard natural numbers N, a sentence ψ in the language of arithmetic is true in N if, and only if, every assignment s of natural numbers to variables satisfies ψ. In symbols we can write this as T (pφq)⇔ (∀ assignments s) N |= φ[s]. Tarski constructed definitions of truth, in terms of satisfaction, for several different formal systems. As he noted in his 1933 paper, the method is entirely general. Using it we can define truth for arbitrary models and languages, and indeed this is one of the building blocks of mathematical logic as it stands today-in no small part due to Tarski's contributions. 2.2 Tarski's undefinability theorem Gödel's incompleteness theorems (see the previous chapter) showed that no sufficiently strong, recursively axiomatizable theory of arithmetic S is complete, in the sense that there are sentences φ in the language of arithmetic such that neither φ nor its negation ¬φ can be proved from the axioms of S. At the heart of this result is a sentence in the language of arithmetic, known as the Gödel sentence, which is a close relative of the liar sentence. Rather than asserting its own falsity, like the liar sentence, the Gödel sentence asserts its own unprovability. Tarski's undefinability theorem shows something stronger: not only are consistent formal theories of a certain strength incomplete, but they cannot define the truth predicate for the language in which they are written. In other words, they cannot prove all instances of the T-schema for that language. The requirement that such theories be consistent is important: classical logic has a property called explosion, which means that if a theory S is inconsistent then it proves every sentence in the language of S, including every instance of the T-schema. The following way of stating of Tarski's theorem is quite standard. The theory Q mentioned in the statement of the theorem is a very weak theory in the language of arithmetic. It was 2For example pages 80 to 86 of Enderton [2001]. 6 discovered by Tarski's colleague, Raphael Robinson, and we shall learn more about it in section 4.3. Undefinability Theorem. Let L be a language that extends the language of arithmetic LPA. Suppose S is a consistent, recursively enumerable theory in L that includes the axioms of Robinson's Q. Given a Gödel numbering of the sentences of L, there is no predicate τ definable in the language of arithmetic such that S proves the following equivalence scheme for all sentences φ of L: τ(pφq)↔ φ. This might seem a little contradictory: the previous section spelled out in detail Tarski's definition of truth, but the undefinability theorem shows that truth cannot be defined. The resolution of this apparent conflict may already be evident, lying as it does in the way Tarski resolves the liar paradox: by stipulating that the definition of truth for a language L is not made in the object theory-this is ruled out by the undefinability theorem-but in the metatheory. To take our standard example, arithmetical truth is not definable in first-order arithmetic, but it is definable in a stronger theory, such as that of set theory or second order arithmetic. Tarski emphasises in the historical notes at the end of Tarski [1933] that his work on truth was done independently and was largely complete, including the definition of truth, by 1929. After Gödel published his incompleteness theorems [Gödel 1931] Tarski realised that Gödel's methods could be used to prove the undefinability theorem. 3 The Banach–Tarski paradox Tarski's work on the theory of truth was not the first time he had flirted with paradox. In 1924 he published a paper with fellow Polish mathematician Stefan Banach showing that a sphere could be cut up into finitely many pieces, and that those pieces could then be reassembled-using only translations and rotations-into two spheres, each with exactly the same volume as the original sphere. This is, to say the least, a counterintuitive result. We expect Euclidean geometry to respect our basic physical intuitions (suitably idealised). If we take a knife and cut up an orange, we can't reassemble it into two oranges with the same size as the original one. The problem is volume, which in the case of the orange remains invariant no matter how we cut it up. Bounded sets, such as spheres, are supposed to have fixed, finite volumes: we can't just get a little extra from somewhere. But the Banach–Tarski theorem shows that we can, after all, do exactly that, as long as we can cut up our sphere into parts which do not have well-defined volumes. These strange objects are called non-measurable sets, since they lack a measure: intuitively, a way of assigning a size to a bounded set. In the case of a line, this is just the length of an interval, like the set of all points between 0 and 1. For a plane it's the area which a bounded set encompasses; and in the three-dimensional case, its volume. While there are non-measurable subsets of R and R2, the oneand two-dimensional versions of the Banach–Tarski theorem are false, although a weaker version where the bounded set is cut into countably infinitely (rather than finitely) many pieces is true. Non-measurable sets had been around since well before Tarski; the first proof of their existence was given by Giuseppe Vitali in 1905. Both Vitali's proof and the Banach–Tarski theorem rely on a set theoretic axiom whose use had been controversial ever since its introduction by the German set theorist Ernst Zermelo: the Axiom of Choice, or AC. 7 Definition. The Axiom of Choice is the statement that for every nonempty family of sets F , there is a function f such that f(S) ∈ S for every S ∈ F . Such an f is called a choice function, because it "chooses" an element from every set in the family. For finite families of sets, we can deduce the existence of choice functions from the other axioms of set theory. But once infinite collections are brought into the picture, the Axiom of Choice must be added as an additional postulate to guarantee the existence of choice functions for every nonempty family of sets. The mathematicians of the day had two main quarrels with the Axiom of Choice. The first was that it allows one to prove a number of puzzling and deeply counterintuitive theorems, of which the Banach–Tarski theorem is the quintessential example. The second addressed the character of the axiom itself. In the presence of Zermelo's other axioms, it allows one to prove the existence of a great many sets, yet gives no way to define them. It is in this sense that the Axiom of Choice is referred to as a nonconstructive axiom. The nature of choice functions therefore remains somewhat mysterious. A classic example can be found by comparing the real numbers R with the natural numbers N. We first introduce the technical notion of a wellorder. A set X is wellordered by an ordering ≺ if and only if every nonempty subset Y ⊆ X has a least element: some x ∈ Y such that every y ∈ Y is greater than or equal to x under the ordering ≺. It's easy to see that the natural numbers are wellordered under their natural ordering: 0 < 1 < 2 < . . . < n < n+ 1 < . . . However, the usual ordering on R is not a wellordering. To see this, consider the open interval (0, 1) ⊆ R, which consists of all real numbers greater than 0 but less than 1. If the reals were wellordered then there would be a smallest real x ∈ (0, 1). But x2 is also a real number greater than 0 but less than 1, and x2 < x. So x could not be the smallest element of (0, 1) after all. So much for the usual ordering. But perhaps there is another way we can order the continuum to get a wellorder? After all, the rational numbers under their usual ordering are not wellordered-but there is another ordering on them which is a wellordering. As it turns out, the answer to this is no: the axioms of ZF alone do not imply that the continuum is wellordered. To prove that it is, we require the Axiom of Choice. In the theory obtained by adding AC to the axioms of ZF, known as ZFC, we can prove that there is a relation ≺ on R which wellorders the continuum. In fact, we can prove a lot more than that: ZFC proves the Wellordering Principle, which states that every set can be wellordered. And the relationship between AC and the Wellordering Principle doesn't stop there: if we assume only the axioms of ZF, plus the Wellordering Principle, we can prove the Axiom of Choice; they are equivalent. But the wellordering principle merely says that there exists a wellordering; it doesn't tell us what the ordering is. In other words, it doesn't define it. Even worse, there may not even be such a definition: it's consistent with the axioms of ZFC that there is no formula in the language of set theory which defines a wellordering of the continuum, even though ZFC proves that such a wellordering exists. Later developments in logic have given us a clearer view of what Banach and Tarski accomplished. Using Cohen's method of forcing, Robert M. Solovay constructed a model of the axioms of ZF plus the assertion that every subset of the real numbers R is measurable. In Solovay's model the Banach–Tarski theorem is false, showing that the Axiom of Choice is indeed required in order to prove it [Solovay 1970]. Raphael Robinson, Tarski's colleague at Berkeley, improved the Banach–Tarski theorem itself by showing that a paradoxical decomposition of the sphere could be achieved by cutting it into just five pieces-and that this is the minimum number possible [Robinson 1947]. More recently, Pawlikowski [1991] used work of Foreman and Wehrung 8 [1991] to show that the full strength of the Axiom of Choice is not required in order to prove the Banach–Tarski theorem: it suffices to assume a weaker principle, important in functional analysis, known as the Hahn–Banach theorem. Giving a complete proof of the Banach–Tarski theorem is, unfortunately, outside the scope of this chapter. The reader interested in a fuller account should consult Jech [1973] for a relatively comprehensive reference. A recent popular account is Wapner [2005]. 4 Decidable and undecidable theories 4.1 Mechanical mathematics and the Entscheidungsproblem The history of the decision problem, or Entscheidungsproblem-the German name by which it is often known-can be traced back to Leibniz, whose hope it was to devise a mechanical means for deriving the truth or falsity of mathematical statements. The problem lay fallow until 1900, when in an address to the International Congress of Mathematicians, David Hilbert laid down a series of challenges to the mathematical community; these became known as Hilbert's problems. The tenth of these problems concerned the solubility of Diophantine equations: Given a diophantine equation with any number of unknown quantities and with rational integral numerical coefficients: To devise a process according to which it can be determined by a finite number of operations whether the equation is solvable in rational integers.3 Hilbert's tenth problem was not resolved until 1970, when Yuri Matiyasevich put in place the final pieces of a proof begun many years earlier by Julia Robinson (another of Tarski's students), Martin Davis and Hilary Putnam, and which showed that no such finite procedure exists. Developing the theme of Hilbert's tenth problem in a more general and precise way, Hilbert and Wilhelm Ackermann posed the classical version of the Entscheidungsproblem in [Hilbert and Ackermann 1928]. The solution to the decision problem would be an algorithm that, given a formal language L and a theory T written in that language, decided whether or not any particular sentence φ in the language L was true in all models of T . In other words, the algorithm should determine whether or not φ is a logical consequence of T . As it stood, almost every part of the Entscheidungsproblem could be stated in formal terms: there were unambiguous mathematical definitions of the notions of a formal language and of a theory formulated in that language. Once Gödel proved his completeness theorem for first-order logic, it was also clear that for a sentence to be a consequence of a particular formal theory was precisely for it to be derivable from that theory in an appropriate formal calculus. However, the concept of an effective procedure or algorithm remained unformalised. If, in the early 1930s, someone had come along with an algorithm solving the Entscheidungsproblem then it would have been clear to the mathematical community that it was in fact such an algorithm. But since they did not-and with Gödel's incompleteness theorems fresh in their minds-logicians turned their efforts towards proving that there could be no such algorithm. To do this, the fuzzy notion of an effective procedure needed to be given a precise formal definition. Otherwise any purported proof of the impossibility of solving the Entscheidungsproblem would have been vulnerable to the accusation that the proof did not cover all of the cases it needed to. Various definitions were offered, from the notion of a recursive function developed by Jacques Herbrand and Kurt Gödel, to Alonzo Church's property of λ-definability. Church proved in 1936 3Hilbert [1902, p. 458], italics in original. 9 that the Entscheidungsproblem has no solution, if the notion of an effective procedure is identified with recursiveness. This identification, known as Church's Thesis, met with resistance in the logical community, not least from Gödel. In the end it was Alan Turing's conceptual analysis of computation, which led him to develop the idea of the Turing machine, that convinced Gödel to accept what is now known as the Church–Turing thesis: the functions that can be effectively computed are precisely those which can be computed by a Turing machine. As Turing and Stephen Kleene proved, this set of functions is identical to that picked out by the other formal notions of computability: recursiveness, λ-definability and Turing computability all coincide. The scientific consensus since then has sided with Gödel: effective computability is Turing computability, and Hilbert's Entscheidungsproblem is unsolvable. 4.2 Decidable theories Well before Gödel's incompleteness theorems burst into the startled minds of the logical community in 1931, and almost a full decade before Church and Turing's negative resolution of the decision problem, Tarski had done pioneering work on decidable theories: ones where there is an algorithm that determines whether or not a given statement is a consequence of the theory. Decidability is closely linked to completeness, and proofs of one are often also proofs of the other. Definition (completeness and decidability). A theory T in a language L is complete iff for every L-sentence φ, either T ` φ or T ` ¬φ. T is decidable iff there is a decision procedure that determines whether or not an L-sentence φ is a theorem of T . Many major advances were made during a research seminar at the University of Warsaw which Tarski ran from 1927 to 1929. The topic of the seminar was quantifier elimination. This is a technique in the field we now call model theory. It first emerged in Löwenheim [1915]'s work, and appeared in its full form in Skolem [1919]. Definition (quantifier elimination). A first-order theory T in a language L admits of quantifier elimination if for every L-formula φ(x1, . . . , xn) there is a quantifier-free L-formula φ∗(x1, . . . , xn) such that T ` φ(x1, . . . , xn)↔ φ∗(x1, . . . , xn). Proving that a theory admits of quantifier elimination usually involves specifying an algorithm by which a formula φ containing quantifiers can be transformed into an equivalent formula φ∗ without them. Quantifier-free formulas are built up by boolean combinations from atomic formulas, so if a theory proves or refutes every atomic sentence, then it proves or refutes every quantifier-free sentence too. Typically it is easier to show decidability for atomic sentences, since often this is simply a matter of computation, and if a theory with this property admits of quantifier elimination then a decidability result for the theory follows easily. Langford [1927a,b] used this technique to solve the decision problem for the first-order theory of dense linear orders. In the seminar on quantifier elimination, Tarski began by extending Langford and Skolem's results, before turning to more ambitious targets. One of these was the decidability of the additive theory of the natural numbers. This theory is formulated in the language consisting of the constant symbols 0 and 1, and the binary function symbol +. Its axioms are the universal closures (that is, every free variable is bound by an outer universal 10 quantifier) of the following formulas: 0 6= n+ 1(P1) n+ 1 = m+ 1→ n = m(P2) n+ 0 = n(P3) n+ (m+ 1) = (n+m) + 1(P4) (φ(0) ∧ ∀n(φ(n)→ φ(n+ 1)))→ ∀nφ(n).(P5) Note that the final axiom is actually a scheme, where φ(n) is any formula of this language containing one or more free variables. Tarski's student Mojżesz Presburger proved in 1928 that this theory-now known as Presburger arithmetic, in his honour-is consistent, complete, and decidable.4 These results formed Presburger's Master's thesis at the University of Warsaw, and were his only published results in logic: he left the academy soon after, and like so many other Polish Jews, perished in the Holocaust [Zygmunt 1991]. The centrepiece of Tarski's research on this topic was his proof that the theory of real closed fields admits of quantifier elimination. Van den Dries [1988, p. 7] goes so far as to say that "Tarski made a fundamental contribution to our understanding of R, perhaps mathematics' most basic structure." The theory of real closed fields is formulated in the language of ordered rings, Lor, which is the language of rings (the constant symbols 0 and 1, and the binary function symbols + and *) supplemented with the order relation ≤. The axioms for ordered fields are the usual definitions of addition and multiplication for fields, with additional axioms governing the order relation: a < b ∨ a = b ∨ b < a, a ≤ b→ a+ c ≤ b+ c, 0 ≤ a ∧ 0 ≤ b→ 0 ≤ a * b. A real closed field is an ordered field which also obeys the following continuity scheme: for every polynomial term p, if there exist real numbers a and b such that a < b and p(a) < 0 < p(b), then there exists another real number c such that a < c < b and p(c) = 0. Tarski proved that given any formula φ(x1, . . . , xm) in the language of ordered rings, we can effectively find a quantifierfree formula φ∗(x1, . . . , xm) and a proof of the equivalence φ↔ φ∗ that uses only the axioms for real closed fields. Many important and fruitful consequences follow from this result. To begin with, the theory of real closed fields is both complete and decidable. Moreover, since the real numbers R are a real closed field-indeed, the prototypical one-it follows that the theory of R is also complete and decidable. More formally, given any sentence φ in the language Lor of ordered rings, there is a finite procedure that determines whether or not R |= φ. This stands in striking contrast to the theory of the rational numbers Q, which does not have this property. Julia Robinson proved that the integers Z are definable in the field Q, and thus the theory of the rational numbers is neither complete nor decidable [Robinson 1949]. The solution of the decision problem for the theory of real closed fields was intimately linked to Tarski's work on geometry, and in particular to the axioms he gave for what he called elementary geometry : a substantial fragment of Euclidean geometry, formulated in first-order logic with identity, and requiring no set theory. By reducing the theory of elementary geometry to the 4The axioms above are closer to those in Hilbert and Bernays [1968, 1970] than the axioms used by Presburger himself, as noted by Zygmunt [1991, p. 221]. Presburger's original axioms can be found on pp. 218-9 of Zygmunt [1991]. 11 theory of elementary algebra-that is to say, the theory of real closed fields-Tarski proved that it was decidable. As with much of Tarski's work, his decision procedure for elementary algebra and geometry was worked out in the 1930s but publication was delayed until much later. An attempt to publish it in a French journal was ruined by the German invasion of 1940. It finally made it into print as a RAND Corporation report and was subsequently reprinted as [Tarski 1951]; an extensive discussion, with interesting historical as well as mathematical insights, is van den Dries [1988]. Tarski and his school proved many other decidability results, which have been surveyed by Doner and Hodges [1988]. A more general study of Tarski's work in model theory is Vaught [1986]. 4.3 Undecidable theories The success of Tarski and his students in classifying decidable theories notwithstanding, it was clear that undecidability was a widespread phenomenon. Presburger's theorem showed that one way of weakening Peano arithmetic, by removing multiplication, resulted in a decidable theory. A natural question to ask was thus: how weak could an undecidable subtheory of Peano arithmetic be? A precise answer to this question was provided by Raphael Robinson, who formulated the weak theory of arithmetic Q-now known as Robinson arithmetic-and proved its undecidability. Robinson's Q is formulated in the language of first order arithmetic, that is, the language of first order logic supplemented by the constant symbol 0; the unary function symbol S denoting the successor function; and binary function symbols + and * denoting addition and multiplication respectively. Definition (Robinson's Q). The axioms of Robinson arithmetic or Q are the universal closures of the following. Sx 6= 0(Q1) Sx = Sy → x = y(Q2) y = 0 ∨ ∃x(Sx = y)(Q3) x+ 0 = x(Q4) x+ Sy = S(x+ y)(Q5) x * 0 = 0(Q6) x * Sy = (x * y) + x(Q7) Q has many interesting properties. For instance, it proves the commutativity of addition in every individual case: t+ s = s+ t holds for all closed terms (those containing no free variables) t and s in the language of arithmetic. However, it cannot prove the universal generalisation ∀x∀y(x+ y = y + x). Definition (essential undecidability). A theory T is decidable if the set of its provable consequences in the language of T is recursive, and undecidable otherwise. A theory S is essentially undecidable if S is undecidable and every consistent extension of S is also undecidable. Theorem (Robinson). Q is essentially undecidable. This result was originally proved in 1939 for a stronger subsystem of first order Peano arithmetic by Tarski and Andrzej Mostowski. Raphael Robinson showed in [Robinson 1950] that it also holds for Q; for details see Tarski et al. [1953, pp. 39–40]. Robinson also proved the following intriguing theorem, showing that the essential undecidability of Q is in some sense irreducible. 12 Theorem (Robinson). None of the theories obtained by removing one of the 7 axioms of Q is essentially undecidable. Tarski, Mostowski and Robinson collaborated on a book, Undecidable Theories [Tarski et al. 1953]. The slimness of this volume belies its importance: in it, Tarski not only set out a general and powerful method for proving undecidability results, but he inspired a new wave of research. The first part of the book consists of a general introduction to the issue of undecidability, written by Tarski. In it he uses the notion of an interpretation of one theory in another to develop a quite general method of proving undecidability results. This proceeds, as Tarski puts it, in an indirect manner: rather than directly demonstrating undecidability, as for example Church did, it proves that a theory T is undecidable (or essentially undecidable) because it interprets a theory S which is already known to be undecidable (or essentially undecidable). Part II contains detailed proofs of a number of key undecidability results, including Robinson's theorems that Q is essentially undecidable, and was co-authored by Tarski, Mostowski and Robinson. One of the striking features of the results is the generality and clarity that Tarski achieved, analysing in great detail the results of the past twenty years and distilling them into a pure and powerful form. The clearest example of this is theorem 1 of this part, which states that no consistent theory T can define both the diagonal function (which should be familiar from the discussion in the preceding chapter of Gödel's incompleteness theorems) and the set of theorems of T . In the final part, Tarski uses the machinery of interpretability developed in Part I, along with the undecidability results of Part II, to show that the first-order theory of groups is undecidable. Here once more we see the unity of Tarski's project, since in 1949 his student Wanda Szmielew had shown that the first-order theory of Abelian groups-formed by adding the commutativity axiom to the theory of groups-is decidable. The theory of groups is therefore not essentially undecidable, since it has a consistent decidable extension. References J. Beall and M. Glanzberg. Liar Paradox. In E. N. Zalta, editor, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Fall 2014 edition, 2014. J. Doner and W. Hodges. Alfred Tarski and Decidable Theories. The Journal of Symbolic Logic, 53(1):20–35, 1988. H. B. Enderton. A Mathematical Introduction to Logic. Harcourt Academic Press, second edition, 2001. A. B. Feferman and S. Feferman. Alfred Tarski: Life and Logic. Cambridge University Press, 2004. S. Feferman, J. W. Dawson, Jr, S. C. Kleene, G. H. Moore, R. M. Solovay, and J. van Heijenoort, editors. Kurt Gödel: Collected Works. I: Publications 1929–1936. Oxford University Press, 1986. M. Foreman and F. Wehrung. The Hahn–Banach theorem implies the existence of a non-Lebesgue measurable set. Fundamenta Mathematicae, 138:13–19, 1991. K. Gödel. Über formal unentscheidbare Sätze der Principia Mathematica und verwandter Systeme I. Monatshefte für Mathematik Physik, 38:173–198, 1931. English translation in van Heijenoort [1967, pp. 596–616] and in Feferman et al. [1986, pp. 144–195]. 13 D. Hilbert. Mathematical problems. Bulletin of the American Mathematical Society, 8:437–479, 1902. doi: 10.1090/S0002-9904-1902-00923-3. Translated for the Bulletin by Mary Winston Newson. D. Hilbert and W. Ackermann. Grunzuge Der Theoretischen Logik. Springer-Verlag, 1928. D. Hilbert and P. Bernays. Grundlagen der Mathematik. Springer Verlag, 2nd edition, 1968, 1970. Volume I and Volume II. T. J. Jech. The Axiom of Choice. Dover, 1973. Originally published by North–Holland, republished by Dover in 2008. C. H. Langford. Some theorems on deducibility. Annals of Mathematics, second series, 28:16–40, 1927a. C. H. Langford. Theorems on deducibility (second paper). Annals of Mathematics, second series, 28:459–471, 1927b. G. E. Leigh and C. Nicolai. Axiomatic truth, syntax and metatheoretic reasoning. The Review of Symbolic Logic, 6(4):613–636, 2013. doi: 10.1017/S1755020313000233. L. Löwenheim. Über Möglichkeiten im Relativkalkül. Mathematische Annalen, 76:447–470, 1915. J. Pawlikowski. The Hahn-Banach theorem implies the Banach–Tarski paradox. Fundamenta Mathematicae, 138:21–22, 1991. J. Robinson. Definability and decision problems in arithmetic. The Journal of Symbolic Logic, 14:98–114, 1949. R. M. Robinson. On the decomposition of spheres. Fundamenta Mathematicae, 34:246–260, 1947. R. M. Robinson. An essentially undecidable axiom system. In Proceedings of the International Congress of Mathematicians, volume 1, pages 729–730, 1950. K. Simmons. Tarski's Logic. In D. M. Gabbay and J. Woods, editors, Handbook of the History of Logic. Volume 5. Logic from Russell to Church, pages 511–616. Elsevier, 2009. T. Skolem. Untersuchungen über die Axiome des Klassenkalkuls und über Produktationsund Summationsprobleme, welche gewisse Klassen von Aussagen betreffen. Skrifter utgit av Videnskapsselskapet i Kristiania. I, Matematisk-Naturvidenskabelig Klasse, 3, 1919. R. M. Solovay. A model of set-theory in which every set of reals is Lebesgue measurable. Annals of Mathematics, Second Series, 92(1):1–56, 1970. A. Tarski. The Concept of Truth in Formalized Languages. In Tarski 1983, pages 152–278. 1933. A. Tarski. A Decision Method for Elementary Algebra and Geometry. University of California Press, 1951. Prepared for publication by J. C. C. McKinsey. Orginally published in 1948 as RAND report R-109, RAND Corp., Santa Monica, CA. A. Tarski. Logic, Semantics, Metamathematics. Hackett, 1983. Edited by J. Corcoran. 2nd revised edition. Original 1956 edition translated and edited by J. H. Woodger. A. Tarski, A. Mostowski, and R. M. Robinson. Undecidable Theories. North-Holland, 1953. 14 L. van den Dries. Alfred Tarski's Elimination Theory for Real Closed Fields. The Journal of Symbolic Logic, 53(1):7–19, 1988. J. van Heijenoort, editor. From Frege to Gödel: A Source Book in Mathematical Logic, 1879– 1931. Harvard University Press, 1967. R. L. Vaught. Alfred Tarski's Work in Model Theory. The Journal of Symbolic Logic, 51(4): 869–882, 1986. doi: 10.2307/2273900. L. M. Wapner. The Pea and the Sun: A Mathematical Paradox. A. K. Peters, 2005. J. Zygmunt. Mojżesz Presburger: Life and Work. History and Philosophy of Logic, 12(2):211–223, 1991. doi: 10.1080/014453409108837186.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 : I. Research : M. Cavallaro, G. Heff ernan : 353–388 ФЕНОМЕНОЛОГИЧЕСКИЕ ИССЛЕДОВАНИЯ • STUDIES IN PHENOMENOLOGY • STUDIEN ZUR PHÄNOMENOLOGIE • ÉTUDES PHÉNOMÉNOLOGIQUES I. ИССЛЕДОВАНИЯ FROM HAPPINESS TO BLESSEDNESS: HUSSERL ON EUDAIMONIA, VIRTUE, AND THE BEST LIFE MARCO CAVALLARO M.A., Research Assistant. University of Cologne, Husserl Archives. 50937 Cologne, Germany. E-mail: [email protected] GEORGE HEFFERNAN PhD in Philosophy, Professor of Philosophy. Merrimack College. 01845 North Andover, Massachusetts, USA. E-mail: heff [email protected] Th is paper treats of Husserl's phenomenology of happiness or eudaimonia in fi ve parts. In the fi rst part, we argue that phenomenology of happiness is an important albeit relatively neglected area of research, and we show that Husserl engages in it. In the second part, we examine the relationship between phenomenological ethics and virtue ethics. In the third part, we identify and clarify essential aspects of Husserl's phenomenology of happiness, namely, the nature of the question concerning happiness and the possibility of a phenomenological answer, the power of the will, the role of vocation, the place of obligation, the signifi cance of habituation, the necessity of selfrefl ection and self-criticism, the importance of sociability and solidarity, the impact of chance and destiny, and the specter of regret. In the fourth part, we establish the inextricable linkage between Husserl's metaethics and his metaphysics. In the fi ft h part, we provide a provisional exploration of his conception of the connection between happiness and blessedness. We acknowledge that there is an extensive literature on Husserl's phenomenological ethics, and our study has benefi tted greatly from it, but we also suggest that our holistic approach critically clarifi es his description of happiness, virtue, and blessedness by fully recognizing that his phenomenological metaethics is embedded in his phenomenological metaphysics. Key words: Husserl, phenomenology, limit problems, eudaimonia, happiness, blessedness, virtue. https://doi.org/10.21638/2226-5260-2019-8-2-353-388 © MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN, 2019 354 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN ОТ СЧАСТЬЯ К БЛАГОСЛОВЕННОСТИ: ГУССЕРЛЬ ОБ ЭВДЕМОНИИ, ДОБРОДЕТЕЛИ И ДОСТОЙНОЙ ЖИЗНИ МАРКО КАВАЛЛАРО Магистр философии, ассистент-исследователь. Кёльнский университет, Архив Гуссерля. 50937 Кёльн, Германия. E-mail: [email protected] ДЖОРДЖ ХЕФФЕРНАН PhD, профессор. Мерримак Колледж. 01845 Северный Андовер, Массачусетс, США. E-mail: heff [email protected] В этой статье рассматривается гуссерлевская феноменология счастья и разрабатывается этика эвдемонии. Статья состоит из пяти частей. В первой части авторы утверждают, что феноменология счастья представляет собой необходимую и вместе с тем относительно игнорируемую область исследования, и демонстрируют, что, вопреки сложившимся представлениям, Гуссерль также её разрабатывал. Во второй части рассматривается взаимосвязь между феноменологической этикой и этикой добродетели, при этом особенное внимание обращено на многочисленные попытки Гуссерля сформулировать категорический императив. В третьей части определяются и проясняются некоторые существенные аспекты гуссерлевской феноменологии счастья, а именно его эвдемонизм. К этим аспектам относятся суть вопроса о счастье и возможность феноменологического ответа на него, а также такие темы как воля, предназначение, долг, привычка, необходимость рефлексии и критического отношения к себе, важность общения и солидарности, влияние удачи и судьбы, разные формы сожаления. В четвёртой части авторы устанавливают и исследуют связь между метаэтикой Гуссерля и его метафизикой. В пятой части авторы намечают возможность развития его концепции, в свете связи между счастьем и благословенной жизнью. Отмечая объем и разработанность исследовательской литературы на тему феноменологической этики Гуссерля, литературы, на которую эта статья во многом опирается, в данной статье предлагается целостный подход, который, как нам кажется, поможет критически прояснить гуссерлевское определение счастья, добродетели, благословенной жизни, и это возможно благодаря полной и окончательной демонстрации того как феноменологическая метаэтика переплетена с феноменологической метафизикой. Ключевые слова: Гуссерль, феноменология, пограничные проблемы, эвдемония, счастье, благословенная жизнь. 355HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 1. INTRODUCTION THE IMPORTANCE OF PHENOMENOLOGY OF HAPPINESS It long seemed that Husserl was preoccupied with logic, theory of knowledge, and theory of science. Yet it has become clear that he also provides a practical philosophy, a normative ethics, a metaphysical metaethics, and even a phenomenology of happiness. Given Aristotle's systematic treatment of happiness, of course, Husserl's refl ections on the phenomenon seem sporadic. Aft er all, Aristotle gives a set defi nition, stating that "happiness is activity of the soul in accord with virtue [...] the best and most complete virtue [...] in a complete life" (Aristotle, 1999, 9). Although he does not give formal defi nitions or systematic treatments of them, however, Husserl does provide phenomenological descriptions of Glückseligkeit and Seligkeit. Th is is evident from the recently published Husserliana XLII: Limit Problems of Phenomenology (2014)1. Th e volume contains texts from 1908 to 1937, and, their apparent disparity notwithstanding, attention to leitmotifs shows that many of them contain extensive refl ections on happiness and blessedness. Hence one may indeed speak of "Husserl's eudaimonism" (XLII, 252, 382, 469, 515), although one can also ask whether eudaimonia is better translated as fl ourishing than as happiness2. Th is is a timely topic, for the current fi eld of happiness studies exhibits three major tendencies. First, research on happiness is dominated not by philosophers but by psychologists, especially by those working in "positive psychology"3. Second, many philosophers who study happiness are infl uenced more by "positive psychology" than by humanistic philosophy4. Th ird, hardly anyone is doing phenomenology of happiness. Th erefore the work on happiness that a few phenomenologists are doing is especially important5. As Husserl shows, phenomenology has the potential to make original, signifi cant, and tenable contributions to our understanding of 1 See Edmund Husserl, Grenzprobleme der Phänomenologie: Analysen des Unbewusstseins und der Instinkte, Metaphysik, Späte Ethik-Texte aus dem Nachlass (1908–1937), ed. Rochus Sowa and Th omas Vongehr (Dordrecht: Springer, 2014). In the text and in the footnotes we refer to Husserl's works by volume (Roman numeral) and page (Arabic numerals) of his Gesammelte Werke (Husserliana). Translations are ours. 2 Th e English expression happiness, with its root hap, meaning chance or luck or fortune, carries connotations of happen, happenstance, hapless, and so forth that the Greek eudaimonia does not. See (Kraut, 1989). 3 See, e.g., (Seligman, 2002; Ben-Shahar, 2007; Lyubomirsky, 2008). 4 See, e.g., (Vitrano, 2014; Cahn & Vitrano, 2015). Th e exceptions, e.g., (Haybron, 2008), prove the rule. 5 See, e.g., (Drummond, 2010, 2013; Heff ernan, 2010, 2014; Brudzińska, 2017). 356 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN human happiness. Th us it is also fi tting to speak of "phenomenology of happiness" as a legitimate area of research with its own tasks, methods, and results. Th e evidence for the possibility of a phenomenology of happiness emerges in those texts of Limit Problems of Phenomenology which contain signifi cant contributions to the conceptual clarifi cation of Husserl's eudaimonism. "Grenzprobleme"-Husserl does not employ the expression, but its use is justifi ed (XXXIX, 875–876; XLII, xix)-are those problems that overstep the bounds of ordinary phenomenological description with its usual standards of evidence (givenness) and lead into the realm of metaphysical questions, for rigorously scientifi c transcendental philosophy is not only open to but also ordered to "a transcendentally-phenomenologically founded metaphysics" (XLII, 160)6. Husserliana XLII includes texts dealing with four groups of "limit problems": (1) phenomenology of unconsciousness and of birth, sleep, and death (XLII, 1–81); (2) phenomenology of instincts (XLII, 83–136); (3) metaphysics, encompassing monadology, teleology, and philosophical theology (XLII, 137–263); and (4) refl ections on ethics in Husserl's Freiburg years (1916–1928 ff .) (XLII, 265– 527). Th e organization of the volume refl ects a distinction among "limit problems" (Grenzprobleme) between the "marginal problems" (Randprobleme) of the fi rst and second groups and the "elevated problems" (Höhenprobleme) of the third and fourth (XLII, xix–xxxi). It also shows that Husserl's ethics, especially his metaethics, is inseparable from his metaphysics, and his concept of happiness, likewise, from his world-apprehension (Weltauff assung)7. Husserl approaches "limit problems of phenomenology" via Besinnung, a way of "investigating the sense" of "the things themselves" that he introduces in the Logical Investigations (1900/1901)8, develops as a method aft er the First World War9, and applies, as "radical sense-investigation", in Formal and Transcendental Logic (1929)10 and, as "historical sense-investigation", in Th e Crisis of the European 6 Cf. XLII, xix–xxix, lxiii–lxvi. See also Husserl to William Ernest Hocking, 7 July 1912 (Husserl, 1994, Briefwechsel [hereaft er BW], III, 159–160); Husserl to Dietrich Mahnke, 4 September 1933 (BW III, 505–511). Cf. fi nally the pertinent passage from the letter of Husserl to Peter Wust (1920) that is cited in XLII, lxiv. 7 See, e.g., XLII, 204–211. 8 XIX/1, 10, 24–25, 304. 9 XXXV, 316–317, 327–328, 336 (London Lectures [1922]); XXXV, 27, 34–38, 46, 48–52, 58–64, 93–96, 241–242, 247–248, 254–256, 259, 264–266 (Introduction to Philosophy Lectures [1922/1923]); XXVII, 9–10, 37–38, 42–43, 46–47, 64–65, 87–88 (Kaizo Articles [1922–1924]). 10 XVII, 9–17, 21, 34, 40, 45, 88, 124, 172–173, 218–219, 236, 243, 280–283, 285. 357HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 Sciences and Transcendental Phenomenology (1936)11. Th is is not the proper place for a lengthy excursus on Besinnung12, but there is substantial evidence in Limit Problems of Phenomenology that Husserl regards the method of Besinnung, as "universal senseinvestigation" (which is not to be confused with simple refl ection)13, as an appropriate approach to the phenomenon happiness14. Th ere are c. 125 occurrences of Besinnung and its variants (e.g., sich besinnen) in 527 pages of Husserliana XLII (but only 3 references to the transcendental-phenomenological reduction-though Besinnung and Reduktion are not contrary but complementary), and many of these occurrences are found in the context of Husserl's observations on happiness. Some texts of the volume even suggest that Besinnung or Selbstbesinnung on happiness is a necessary condition for a life of genuine satisfaction (echte Befriedigung)15. 2. PHENOMENOLOGY OF HAPPINESS AND VIRTUE ETHICS Self-satisfaction (Selbstzufriedenheit) in Husserl's sense of being happy with one's life involves much more than the fulfi llment of one's needs, plans, and wants16. Associating "eudaimonism" with the indeterminacy and uncertainty of "getting what one wants," Kant sought to discredit the role of happiness in ethics, arguing that being worthy to be happy is a higher good than being happy, and that being worthy to be happy and being happy are the highest good17. Husserl has a more positive view of the relationship between morality and happiness18. His emphasis on self-satisfaction is consistent with a current trend in happiness studies to defi ne happiness as "getting the life you want"19 or as "a state of satisfaction with the life that one lives"20. 11 VI, 4, 12, 15–16, 39, 48, 50, 54, 57–60, 68, 72–74, 100, 106, 121, 124, 135–138, 142, 156, 158–159, 169, 176, 178–179, 184–186, 190, 193–195, 200, 207, 215, 224, 250, 254–255, 262–264, 266, 272. 12 An excursus that would go far beyond: VII, 7–12, 30–34, 38–39, 62–63, 66–67, 73, 141–142, 157–160, 166–168 (First Philosophy I [1923/1924]); VIII, 3–7, 29, 34–37, 58–59, 86–88, 120–121, 124–125, 154–155, 164–166, 203–211 (First Philosophy II [1923/1924]); I, 43–44, 49–50, 53, 63, 103, 116–118, 174, 179–180, 182–183 (Cartesian Meditations [1931]). 13 See (Cairns, 1973), where Besinnung is translated as "sense-investigation" (20) and Refl exion as "refl ection" (94). On Husserl's skepticism with respect to refl ection as the phenomenological method, see III/1, 162–178. 14 XLII, 213, 223, 229, 255, 449, 472–474, 484, 517–518, 526–527. 15 See, e.g., XLII, 212–217, 393–399, 425–449, 451–468, 491–494, 515. 16 XLII, 173 (n. 1), 309–313, 316, 322, 329, 331. 17 See (Kant, 1996, 49–51, 59, 68, 70–71, 240, 593). 18 See XXVIII, 402–418 (1902/1903), and XXXVII, 200–243 (1920/1924). Cf. (Peucker, 2007; Rinofner-Kreidl, 2010; Pradelle, 2016). 19 See, e.g., (Lyubomirsky, 2008). 20 See, e.g., (Vitrano, 2014, 1–7, 71–121, 131–135). 358 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN A decisive diff erence between the popular trend and Husserl's position, however, is that he insists on the inextricable linkage between satisfaction or self-satisfaction and ethics or virtue, which, he argues, only together yield genuine happiness. A key source in this regard is Husserliana XLII, Text No. 24: "Value of Life, Value of the World, Ethics (Virtue), and Happiness"21. Here Husserl argues that there is no happiness without self-satisfaction, but no self-satisfaction without virtue, and therefore no happiness without virtue22. Th is text is only one of a large number of similar sources23 that show that for Husserl, as for Aristotle, the practice of virtue off ers moral agents the best practical chance (but no guarantee) for happiness in an unpredictable world24. Happiness is not a fl eeting feeling, and certainly not the feeling of pleasure that one person gets from loving and being loved by another. Virtue plays an indispensable role in ethical deliberation, decision, and action, and happiness is understood in relation to virtue. Husserl sees contentment as founded on and grounded in content, as one of his earliest examples of the nature of a normative value shows: the case of "the brave or good warrior" in the Prolegomena to Pure Logic (XVIII, 53–59). Nothing captures the concept of content in ethics better than virtue, both of character and of intellect25. To leave out morality is to leave open the door to the notion of "the happy immoralist"26. Yet Husserl's ethics resists the usual classifi cation of normative ethical theories into virtue ethics (Aristotle), deontological ethics (Kant), and consequentialist ethics (Mill)27. Rather, it attempts to integrate parts of all three types of theories into a whole that renders them historically fruitful and systematically useful28. Husserl's mature ethical theory also involves a novel approach based on a unique blend of three essential elements of the person, namely, a free will (Kant), an active ego (Fichte), and a virtuous character (Aristotle)29, which together enable moral agents to shape their lives so as to establish the best possible-but not perfect-conditions under which to achieve the self-satisfaction with virtue that is happiness or eudaimonia. 21 XLII, 297–333 (February 1923): „Wert des Lebens. Wert der Welt. Sittlichkeit (Tugend) und Glückseligkeit." 22 XLII, 198, 311, 316, 329–333. 23 See, e.g., XLII, 278–288 (1920), 289–296, 379–382, 502–515, etc. 24 See, e.g., (Annas, 1989, 1993, 2003, 2008a, 2008b; Kekes, 1982; Kraut, 1979; Arroyo, 2009). 25 See, e.g., (MacIntyre, 2007). 26 Propagated by (Cahn, 2004, 2008a, 2008b; Vitrano, 2008, 2009). 27 We concur with (Peucker, 2008, 307). 28 See (Peucker, 2007; Heff ernan, 2010; Tullius, 2017; Ubiali, 2017). 29 See (Luft , 2010, 2012). 359HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 An adequate account of Husserl's approach to the relationship between happiness and virtue must clarify the evolution of his ethics30. Bracketing legitimate questions concerning formalizing periodization, one can say the following in this regard: Husserl's early ethical investigations during his time in Halle (1887–1901) are heavily infl uenced by Brentano's lecture courses on practical philosophy from 1876 to 1894 (published as Grundlegung und Aufb au der Ethik / Foundation and Construction of Ethics)31 and feature a strong parallel between logic and ethics (XXVIII, 381–419)32. Husserl's idea of ethics as a rigorous science of practical reason and its formal axiology holds during his middle period in Göttingen (1901–1916)33. Yet this idea is transformed with his plea for a "renewal" (Erneuerung) of human values in his Kaizo Articles (1922–1924) (XXVII, 3–94)34. His mature ethics sprouts in his lectures on ethics in 1920 and 1924 (XXXVII, 3–255) and blossoms during his time in Freiburg from 1916 to 1938 (XLII, 265–527). Based on a phenomenology of the subject as a person striving for happiness (Glückseligkeit), it is heavily infl uenced by Husserl's reading of Kant and Fichte, especially of the latter's Die Bestimmung des Menschen / Th e Vocation of Man (1800) and Die Anweisung zum seligen Leben oder auch die Religionslehre / Th e Way toward the Blessed Life, or also the Doctrine of Religion (1806)35. Th e result is an ethics that is based on reason and love and directed toward individual and collective human blessedness (Seligkeit), that distinguishes between "objective values" driven by duties and "subjective values" motivated by love (though "subjective values" may involve absolute duties)36, and that requires not blind belief but rational faith in God as a highest, all-good being who cares for human beings autonomously responding to their freely chosen vocations37. Th e evolution of Husserl's ethics is accompanied by a shift in his approach to the Categorical Imperative. In 1914 Husserl described "the problem of the Categorical Imperative" as "the most central problem of ethics" (XXVIII, 137), but in 1919/1920 30 See (Melle, 1991, 2002; Peucker, 2008; Römer, 2011; Rinofner-Kreidl, 2017; Drummond, 2018). 31 See (Brentano, 1978). 32 Brentano's Vom Ursprung sittlicher Erkenntnis/Th e Origin of the Knowledge of Right and Wrong (1889) (Brentano, 1969) is not mentioned in Husserliana XXVIII, XXXVII, or XLII. 33 See, e.g., XXVIII, 3–159. 34 Th ree (XXVII, 3–43) of fi ve (XXVII, 3–94) articles were published (1923–1924). 35 See XXV, 267–293 („Fichtes Menschheitsideal: Drei Vorlesungen" [1917]). Cf. (Fichte, 1979, 1983). (Hart, 1995) is very good on Husserl and Fichte. 36 See (Hart, 2006). 37 See XLII, 265–527, esp. 297–333. 360 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN he writes that he "will probably have to give up or limit anew the entire doctrine of the categorical imperative"38, and in the early-to-mid 1920s he states that an "ethics based merely on the Categorical Imperative" is "not an ethics"39. In his early ethics, the guiding question was whether, given the Categorical Imperative in Brentano's sense, namely, "Do the best of the good achievable within your whole particular practical sphere!" (1914)40, actions are done in accord with duty; in his later ethics, it is whether they are done out of love41. (In Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals, Kant explores a distinction between the moral value of actions done in accord with duties and that of actions done out of duty42, but Husserl does not mention this connection in any text of Husserliana XLII.) Husserl illustrates the diff erence between the two approaches with the example of a mother and her absolute understanding of her unconditional duties to her child43. He also gives the example of the mother who sacrifi ces her son for her country44. Husserl's critique of his earlier approach to such a case is that the "Law of Absorption"45 of a supposedly lower good into a supposedly higher good does not work because the loss or "sacrifi ce" is absolute46. Th ere is no better illustration of the distinction between "objective values" and "subjective values" in his late ethics (XLII, 348–359). Yet, as the most extensive set of texts in Husserliana XLII documents, Husserl gradually moves away from an ethics founded on a formal Categorical Imperative toward an ethics grounded in the material ideals of personhood, community, and humanity (XLII, 383–392)47. Th e distinctive feature of his later ethics, as compared to and contrasted with his earlier, is a less abstract and more concrete concept of 38 See Materialien IX, 132 (n. 1): „Ich werde wohl die ganze Lehre vom kategorischen Imperativ aufgeben müssen bzw. neu begrenzen." 39 See Materialien IX, 146 (n. 1). 40 See XXVIII, 142: „Tue das Beste unter dem erreichbaren Guten innerhalb deiner jeweiligen praktischen Gesamtsphäre!" See also XXVIII, 153: „Tue das Beste unter dem Erreichbaren." Cf. XXVIII, 237–242, 348–355, 414–418. 41 See XLII, 289–296. See also XLII, 87, 200–201, 265, 284, 395–396, 419–420. 42 See (Kant, 1999), First Section. 43 XLII, 309–310, 343–344, 348–355, 393–399, 400–408, 458–468. 44 See XLII, 199, 347, 401, 458, 466. In this case Husserl always says "mother" and never "father." 45 See XXVIII, 136: „In jeder Wahl absorbiert das Bessere das Gute und das Beste alles andere an und für sich als praktisch gut Zu-Schätzende." 46 Cf. XLII, 344–347, 356–359, 383–391, 458–468, and XLII, 348–355, 410–422, 458–468. See XXVIII, 419–422, on the roles of Moritz Geiger and Fritz Kaufmann in Husserl's shift . 47 See XLII, 311, 315–316, 318–321, 324, 329, 344, 356–359, 473. Cf. Sowa, Introduction, XLII, xciv–xcv, c–cvi, cxiii. 361HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 practical reason (XLII, 265–277). In 1923, for example, Husserl introduces and develops the distinction between an "individual categorical imperative of the hour" and the "formal categorical imperative for life" (XLII, 318–321). Deviating from Brentano, and, of course, from Kant48, Husserl's alternative Categorical Imperative, from 1924, says not what to do but how to be: "Be a true human being; lead a life that you can insightfully justify in a thorough-going way, a life of practical reason"49. What may be his most "existential" Categorical Imperative, probably from the mid1920s, says: "Do your best, as which the best is what you can do in the sense of the absolute best, at which your life's meaning should aim, as [should] that of all human beings!"50 Th ese imperatives, which do not confl ict with the claims of happiness (XLII, 311), are more individual-situational and less formal-categorical (XLII, 321). Now values are defi ned not merely in terms of individual acts that realize the best that one can do in a given situation, but rather in terms of an absolutely justifi ed shaping of the life that is, in each and every case, that of an individual person, as well as in terms of a rational shaping of the lives of national and trans-national societies guided by a conviction of faith, a consciousness of hope, and a community of love51. Given the human striving for happiness in the face of the irrationality (Unvernunft ) and accidentality (Zufall) in the life of the individual and in the history of humanity, Husserl emphasizes the inseparability of ethical and existential concerns and poses urgent questions concerning the meaningfulness and meaninglessness of moral agency52. Th e phenomenon of love, as a source of binding values and as the motive of ethical action, as well as the phenomenon of the individual call to a personal task in life, move to the center of his ethics53. Th e result is a phenomenological ethics, in the spirit of his phenomenological philosophy, not „von oben" but „von unten"54. 48 Kant distinguishes several diff erent formulations of the Categorical Imperative-"act only in accordance with that maxim through which you can at the same time will that it become a universal law"-but asserts that they all express the same thing. See (Kant, 1999), Second Section. 49 See XXVII, 36: „Sei ein wahrer Mensch; führe ein Leben, das du durchgängig einsichtig rechtfertigen kannst, ein Leben aus praktischer Vernunft ." Cf. XXXVII, 234: „Handle vernünft ig!" 50 See XLII, 390: „Tue dein Bestes, als welches das Beste ist, das du im Sinn des absolut Besten tun kannst, auf das dein Lebenssinn mit hinzielen soll, wie der aller Menschen!" Cf. XXXVII, 252–253 (1920/1924). One may ask whether Husserl's latest ethics is "existentialist." See (Loidolt, 2011, 2018; Römer, 2011). 51 XLII, 333–338, 343–344, 356–359, 400–408, 410–449, 458–484, 523–526. 52 XLII, 338–340, 360–382, 408–409, 449–450, 495–523, 526–527. 53 See XLII, 348–355, 393–399, 451–457, 491–494. See also (Melle, 1991, 2002, 2007; Peucker, 2008). 54 BW III, 160, 213, 504; BW V, 15; BW VI, 99; BW VII, 164; BW IX, 83–84. 362 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN Husserl recognizes that, given the vagaries, vices, and vicissitudes of the world, virtue off ers the best prospect of happiness (XLII, 297–333), but he, like Aristotle, also realizes that virtue does not guarantee happiness (XLII, 382). Yet he cannot without further ado be characterized as a virtue ethicist in the Classical Western tradition55. His cardinal virtues are not the Greco-Roman philosophical virtues, prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance56, which are hardly present in the texts of Husserliana XLII, but rather the Jewish-Christian theological virtues, faith, hope, and love, which are very much in evidence. Th is raises an obvious question. Yet, although he suggests that human beings cannot be happy without God, Husserl does not accept the medieval Christian view that "God makes human beings happy"57. He does, however, believe in a world in which divine "grace" (Gnade) encourages human eff ort58. In the end, his developed ethics, materially determinate and particularly oriented, does justice to individual hope for personal happiness, but also to collective striving for communal blessedness, in a way in which his developing ethics, formally structured and generally inclined, did not. 3. HUSSERL'S EUDAIMONISM THE CHARACTERISTIC FEATURES OF A HAPPY LIFE We turn to the essential aspects of happiness according to Husserl's phenomenological descriptions. Th e question concerning happiness. Husserl writes: "To what end must the human being be satisfi ed? Th e human being must be able to be satisfi ed in order to aim at the goal not only of being good but of becoming better and better"59. According to Husserl, the "happiness question" (die Glücksfrage: XLII, 504– 508) is a matter of how I should conduct myself ethically in order to lead a life of complete self-preservation (Selbsterhaltung)60 and sustained satisfaction 55 See, e.g., (Drummond, 2002, 2014, 2015, 2018; Heff ernan, 2010; Peucker, 2010). 56 See, e.g., (Plato, 2006), Book IV, and (Aristotle, 1999), Books II–VI. 57 See (Augustine, 1984). 58 See, e.g., XLII, 215, 236, 447. 59 XLII, 324: „Wozu muss der Mensch zufrieden sein? Er muss zufrieden sein können, um das Ziel, nicht nur gut zu sein, sondern besser und immer besser zu werden, sich stellen zu können." 60 XLII, 503: „Wie müsste ich in der Möglichkeit, gedacht als meine wirkliche Vermöglichkeit, all mein Leben, all meine einzelnen Wollungen und Handlungen inszenieren und ordnen, damit sie zusammenstimmten zur Einheit einer sich durch das Leben hindurch erstreckenden ungestörten Harmonie der totalen Selbsterhaltung [...]?" 363HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 (Befriedigung)61. For Husserl, ethics is distinct from morality, but the question concerning happiness is an ethical question62. Th us one cannot simply say that that individual is happy whose volitions (Wollungen) and inclinations (Neigungen) are constantly satisfi ed. Such a life would not necessarily be a good life or a happy life. Rather, an ethical life and a happy life, a life of self-satisfaction, are inseparable: "How are an ethical life and happiness (satisfaction) related? An ethical life provides self-satisfaction as a condition of the possibility of every further satisfaction"63. A life of complete satisfaction is one in which all my beliefs and position-takings (Stellungnahmen), as well as all my volitions and actions, produce "the harmony of a whole life" (Zusammenstimmung zu einem Lebensganzen)64. Yet even the fact that my life constitutes a harmonious totality is not suffi cient to permit me to characterize it as "happy." Th is fact must also be known per se, that is, I must be aware of this harmony in order to be able to consider myself "happy." Th is entails, on the one hand, that the harmony objectively subsists, and, on the other hand, that I am in a position to evaluate my entire life positively in a single act of judgment. Th e necessary condition for such a general self-evaluation is the possibility of performing a complete synthesis of all my past and future beliefs, volitions, and actions. Husserl refers to this possibility as the subject's capacity for performing acts of Überschau or for taking a "panoramic view" of her own life as a whole65. An Überschau requires the kind of act by which we experience our personal life as a whole, and, correlatively, the world as its constant horizon. As Husserl says: Th e human being as a human being does not live in the moment. For the human being the whole unity of her past is a given unity and a unity capable of being 61 XLII, 504: „Wie muss ich [...] für mich mein (ganzes weiteres) Leben gestalten, um ein ständiges Leben der Befriedigung <zu> gewinnen?" 62 XXVIII, 33: „Es ist off enbar eine Einschränkung, wenn wir Ethik als Moral fassen. [...] Das moralische Handeln, wie immer wir es näher bestimmen, ist eine beschränkte Sphäre des Handelns überhaupt; also die Ethik muss, wenn wir den umfassendsten Begriff gewinnen wollen, der Vernunft in der Praxis überhaupt zugeordnet werden." For this use of the term ethics see (Williams, 1985). 63 XLII, 329: „Wie verhalten sich ethisches Leben und Glückseligkeit (Zufriedenheit)? Ethisches Leben gibt Selbstzufriedenheit als Bedingung der Möglichkeit jeder weiteren Zufriedenheit." 64 XLII, 507 f.: „Das konkrete Leben der menschlichen Person kann nur ‚glücklich' sein, wenn hinsichtlich all dieser Lebensschichten als besonderer, aber sich wechselseitig auch durchsetzender und bedingender Schichten des Willenslebens ein gewisser Stil der Zusammenstimmung zu einem Lebensganzen gewährleistet ist." 65 (Staiti, 2013) provides a detailed analysis of the experience of Überschau. 364 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN looked over and grasped, and accordingly so is her future and her whole fl owing life66. Any panoramic view of a whole life, of course, involves unfulfi lled, obscure horizons67. Granting that anyone is capable of grasping her own life in a single act and of thereby performing a synthesis of all her beliefs, volitions, and actions, the problem of ascertaining the criterion for determining whether life is harmonious remains. Harmony is fi rst and foremost an aesthetic, relative category, which means that it is not an objective property of beliefs, volitions, and actions as such, but a "felt" or "sensed" property that they have in relation to a valuing subject. A solution presupposes that the person can turn herself and her entire life into a "theme" (Th ema), fi rst, of valuation, and, second, of praxis68. Th e axiological judgment directed toward her whole life, which then becomes the "judgment matter" (Urteilsmaterie), motivates her to act in this or that manner in order to change her life. Th e totality of life becomes the target of a practical undertaking. Will. Th e most eff ective solution to the problem of happiness would be to reach the point at which each of my volitions were ruled by an "archontic will" (ein archontischer Wille: XLII 504) or a "monarchical willing" (ein monarchisches Wollen: XLII, 506)69, that is, a habitual tendency of the will encompassing the whole of practical life70. Th e result of this self-determination would be a consistent connection 66 XLII, 303 (n. 1): „Der Mensch als Mensch lebt nicht im Moment. Für ihn ist die ganze Einheit seiner Vergangenheit eine gegebene und zur Überschauung und Erfassung kommende Einheit und demgemäss auch seine Zukunft und sein ganzes fl iessendes Leben." 67 As Staiti indicates, "the lack of total fulfi llment and the withholding of whatever kind of illustrative content [...] can be considered essential traits of Überschau" (Staiti, 2013, 30). 68 XLII, 304: „In eins mit der Wertung des Lebens ist die Selbstwertung des Subjekts: Der Mensch macht sich und sein gesamtes Leben [...] zum Wertungsthema und zum praktischen Th ema [...]." XXVIII, 143: „Also wir stellen es [das handelnde Subjekt] dabei als jemanden vor, der wollend sein Willensleben regiert, dieses selbst zum Feld der Praxis, zum Willensbereich macht, und nun richtiges Wollen anstrebt." XXVIII, 89: „Natürlich kann das Werten sich auf die Person, auf ihre Taten, auf das, was für sie unter den für sie speziell bestehenden Voraussetzungen gut und schlecht ist, beziehen." 69 Ms. F I 28, 338: „Es ist vorauszusetzen, dass die Universalität eines ‚Ich will' in reiner Aktmotivation, also in reiner Freiheit leben und mir alle heteronomen Motive verbieten, die Selbstsetzung des Ich als habituellen Trägers des reinen ‚Ich will' in sich schliesst, also in sich beschliesst das ‚Ich will ein ethisch Guter sein,' ein solcher, aus dem nur rein gut gerichtete Akte und die beständig richtigen, die möglich sind, hervorgehen." 70 XLII, 281: „Eine habituelle Willenstendenz auf normhaft es Wollen und Handeln geht möglicherweise durch das ganze praktische Leben hindurch." XLII, 283: „[...] eine Universalität der Regelung des ganzen Lebens und eine Regelung des Ich selbst durch das Ich selbst [...]." 365HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 between my fi rm will and my fl eeting volitions71. Th en I could live by a supreme ideal that played the role of the highest practical demand (categorical imperative) for me in my life. Insofar as I lived according to my will, my ideal of life, I would be faithful (treu) to myself and to my previous decisions. Th e identity of the person would constitute itself as the harmonious unity of all his position-takings as driven by this regulatory will72. Th e moment of self-determination of the will must be conceived as an act of "conversion" (Umkehr: VIII, 297) by virtue of which the totality of a person's life gets turned upside down, as it were. Th is conversion implies a "renewal" (Erneuerung) of the human being brought about by a free act of the will-a "free spontaneity" of the I as "causa sui"73. In later manuscripts, Husserl characterizes this experience more precisely as a "backward renewal" (umkehrende Erneuerung: XLII, 497), a kind of renewal that is directed toward one's past life and cancels one's previous universal will and life's ideal in order to set the stage for a new volitional form of one's entire life. In this manner, the subject appears to forfeit his self-preservation. A temporal split occurs in his life so that, in a sense, he is no longer what he once was. Yet it only seems so, because his goal is precisely to achieve a stable self-preservation in which conversion becomes unnecessary. Th e ultimate ground of all ethical renewal is the pre-ethical teleology of self-preservation. Th e striving for self-satisfaction accompanies the striving for self-preservation74. Th e ethical conversion is made possible by what Husserl calls a "universal ethical epoché" (VIII, 319), a thematization of one's entire life that makes it the subject of a universal axiological judgment. Th is epoché implies a bracketing of 71 XLII, 503 f.: „Ich in einem ins Unendliche und Ganze fortgehenden Willensleben, das in allen einzelnen Wollungen regiert wäre von einem einzigen habituellen Willen, eben dem, der als oberster Regent allen einzelnen Verhaltungsweisen jene glückhaft e Form verleihen müsste." 72 IV, 277: „Aber wirklich einheitliche Person ist das Ich in eins damit noch in einem höheren Sinn, wenn es einen gewissen durchgängigen einheitlichen Still hat in der Art, wie es sich urteilend, wollend entscheidet, in der Art, wie es ästhetisch schätzt [...]." 73 XXVII, 25; XIV, 210. 74 XLII, 503: „Wie müsste ich in der Möglichkeit, gedacht als meine wirkliche Vermöglichkeit, all mein Leben, all meine einzelnen Wollungen und Handlungen inszenieren und ordnen, damit sie zusammenstimmten zur Einheit einer sich durch das Leben hindurch erstreckenden ungestörten Harmonie der totalen Selbsterhaltung, sich fühlbar machend in der unthematischen Gemütsreaktion der ständig begleitenden Stimmung der Befriedigung [...]?" 366 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN one's entire previous life and a universal critique of it according to a newly imposed ethical ideal75. Yet does not the necessity of ethical renewal contradict the necessity of self-preservation and harmony76? Husserl's elegant solution proposes two forms of self-preservation or striving for self-preservation, a generally natural one and a specifi cally ethical one77. Connected to this distinction is the striving for "fi nality" (Endgültigkeit)78. Th e subject ought to strive for a set of core convictions (Überzeugungen) that will, ideally, not be disappointed during a lifetime, for not only does experience not contradict them but their practical realization must also always be successful79. Only then does the life of the subject have "the character of a life directed toward constant goals, in which the I exercises self-preservation" (XLII, 368). Vocation. Th e ethical ideal of life is a kind of universal "vocation" (Beruf) that assumes the role of an absolute normative "call" (Ruf ) for the subject-"[a]n ideal that shapes the whole of life" (XLII, 493). It diff ers from every other specifi c ideal due to its universal character, and Husserl distinguishes this kind of vocation from the ideals of life that single professions (Berufe)80 represent. Human life presents human beings with a multi-layered manifold of "profession-unities" (Berufseinheiten: XLII, 507), that is, unities of obligations and volitions. To each profession pertains a specifi c set of obligations, values, volitions, and faculties (Können). Even a relative kind of happiness (or unhappiness) depends on the fulfi llment (or non-fulfi llment) of these obligations and volitions (XLII, 517). Th is is only a part of the whole, however, because a single profession does not concern one's life as a whole, leaving some areas untouched by its regulation and 75 Cf. (Melle, 2002, 243 f.). 76 We thank Dieter Lohmar for drawing our attention to this possible objection. 77 XLII, 368: „Sowie das universale Denken der Vernunft erwacht [...] muss es [das Ich] auch eine neue Weise der Selbsterhaltung suchen. Die bisherige, die sozusagen passive Ausbildung von präsumtiven Endgültigkeiten genügt nicht mehr-eben weil sie immer präsumtiv sind." 78 XLII, 367: „Das Ich ist praktisches Ich, es strebt auf etwas hin, will es. Aber es steht unter dem Gesetz der Selbsterhaltung. Es kann sich als Ich nur erhalten, wenn durch seine Entscheidungen Endgültigkeit hindurchgeht. [...] [D]ann muss es nicht nur überhaupt neue Überzeugungen sich schaff en, es muss dessen sicher sein können, dass es nicht immer wieder in die Lage kommen wird und kommen könnte, seine schon gebildeten Überzeugungen wieder aufzugeben." 79 XLII, 368: „[...] es ist jede dieser Verwirklichungsarten und Herausstellungsarten [sowohl des sachlichen als auch des wertlichen Seins, Verwandlung von Möglichkeit in Wirklichkeit] immerfort in der praktischen Aktivität, wenn auch unter Korrekturen, gelungen." 80 Th e German Beruf means both vocation and profession. We use vocation to translate the all-encompassing Beruf, which Husserl sometimes also refers to as Ruf or Berufung, and profession to mean a vocation that does not possess this all-encompassing character. 367HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 will. A "professional-life" (Berufsleben) does not constitute the whole of life. Because I can simultaneously be a scientist, husband, father, and citizen, I am subject to a plurality of goals and duties that in real life may confl ict with one another insofar as the actualization of one inhibits or even prohibits the realization of another (XLII, 396). Also, because a cluster of diff erent obligations pertains to each of these "professions," the leading of a professional life opens up the possibility of a "split" (Spaltung) between the part of a person's life that is exclusively focused on the single profession, its goals, satisfactions, and dissatisfactions, on the one hand, and the part of her life that contains everything beyond and apart from that single professional life, on the other hand81. Obligation. In order to live an ethical and happy life, Husserl suggests, a universal will must govern all aspects of my practical undertakings. Th is universal "I want" (Ich will) is inextricably linked to a universal "I ought" (Ich soll)82. In the context of "a genuine life" (ein echtes Leben), "a life lived in love" (ein Leben in der Liebe), which for Husserl is synonymous with "a life in the absolute 'ought'" (ein Leben in dem absoluten Sollen), my volition grounds a universal ethical obligation (XLII, 393–399). Insofar as I will something, I experience a practical obligation to realize it. What I want, the content of my volition, is by defi nition a "good," the content of a positive axiological judgment83. According to Husserl, we can be inclined to two fundamentally diff erent types of goods: on the one hand, universal objective goods, that is, values that are attached to the object and depend on its objective features; and, on the other hand, absolute subjective goods, that is, values that stem from a performance of the subject that attributes a subjective value to the object (XLII, 348–359)84. Th e latter are the results of habitualized acts of personal love (which are simultaneously "actus" and "habitus": XLII, 354) as "the turning of the I toward that which individually allures it as this wholly particular I, and which, if achieved, would be its own completion"85. 81 XLII, 517: „Im Berufsleben spaltet sich sozusagen in der Person die Berufsperson ab." 82 XLII, 397: „Was ich will, bezeichne ich auch mit den Worten ‚Das soll ich'." 83 See also (Aristotle, 1999, 1). 84 Cf. (Melle, 2002, 238 f.), and see (Drummond, 1995, 2002, 2010, 2013). See also (Heff ernan, 2010) on the distinction between genuine goods and (merely) apparent goods. 85 XLII, 397: „Liebe ist die Hinwendung des Ich zu dem, was es als dieses Ich ganz individuell anzieht und das, wenn es das erzielt hätte, für es Vollendung wäre." 368 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN For Husserl, an example of an act that is able to ground an absolute subjective value is the instinctual love of a mother for her child86. Yet this is a specifi c case that does not apply to everyone. Not all people are mothers, nor are they parents. Also, "a mother's love" is not a universal quality of every mother; indeed, its instinctual nature is questionable87. Yet Husserl is not interested here in the specifi c character of parental loving, for he states that everyone, parent or not, can have his own absolute subjective value88. At the core of the universal "I want", then, is an act of love expressed by a preferential judgment about something, for example, an object or ideal, or about someone, for example, a family or friend. Th us the vocation expressed by the "I want" touches "the most profound inwardness, the inner center of the I" (XLII, 358)89, because it stems from an act of love and preference which only that person performs and which therefore distinguishes him from every other person. Habituation. In Husserl's sense, the universal will that should regulate an ethical life is a second-order volition. As distinguished from action-determining volitions, second-order volitions are volitions about volitions90. Yet volitions ground motives for actions. Hence this universal second-order volition is responsible not only directly for what I will accomplish in my life, for example, my concrete goals, but also indirectly for the totality of my actions91. For a volition to function continuously throughout an entire life and thus render possible a "continuous renewal" (XXVII, 42 ff .), it needs to become "second nature" for the subject, that is, a habit. Similar to the universal volition, this "archontic" habit is a second-order habit, because it must inform the totality of her 86 XLII, 333, 351, 359, etc. 87 See (Brudzińska, 2017, 297). 88 A V 21 (1924), 122a: „Jeder hat sein absolutes Sollen; und seine Wahl vollzieht sich in der Frage: ‚Was soll ich?,' und, wo ich mehreres soll, ‚Welches ist jetzt mein Notwendiges?,' nicht einfach: ‚Welches ist das in der Gütervergleichung bessere?'" See also (Cobet, 2003, 40 f.). 89 XLII, 358: „Ein Besonderes ist es aber, dass das Ich nicht nur polare, zentrierende Innerlichkeit ist, dabei aus sich Sinn und Wert und Tat leistende Innerlichkeit, sondern dass es auch individuelles Ich ist, das in all seinem Vorstellen, fühlend Werten, Sich-Entscheiden noch ein tiefstes Zentrum hat, das Zentrum jener Liebe im ausgezeichneten Sinn, das Ich, das in dieser Liebe einem ‚Ruf,' einer ‚Berufung' folgt, einem innersten Ruf, der die tiefste Innerlichkeit, das innerste Zentrum des Ich selbst trifft und zu neuartigen Entscheidungen, zu neuartigen ‚Selbstverantwortungen,' Selbstrechtfertigungen bestimmt wird." 90 (Frankfurt, 1971) reintroduces the idea of second-order volition. Like Husserl, Frankfurt considers the capacity for second-order volitions crucial for the constitution of the subject's personal and ethical identity. 91 Ms. F I 28, 327: „Sicher gehört dazu die höhere Stufe, dass gegebenenfalls so gehandelt wird auf Grund des universalen Willens und in der habituell gewordenen Willensgesinnung, überhaupt so handeln zu wollen." 369HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 habit-formations and position-takings. Th us the essence of the ethical person lies in the habituation of a second-order volition, that is, in the habitualized form of a position-taking on position-takings (Stellungnahme durch Stellungnahme)92. Self-refl ection and self-criticism. Husserl understands, however, that ethics is not merely a matter of cultivating good habits. Self-refl ection and self-criticism are also indispensable ingredients of ethical character. Yet they are not to be identifi ed with habits in the primary or strict sense, for they do not only refer to single actions that we occasionally perform (in the present, past or future), but they also, more importantly, refer to and take a stance on our acquired habituations. Th e critical habit of examining every position-taking (Setzung), willing, or habit is a secondorder habit93. Th us it is not the actuality of having acquired morally good habits alone that makes me a good person, but the continuously open possibility of refl ecting on my particular habituations, and, when appropriate, of criticizing them with respect to whether they are consistent with my absolute values. Th e capacity for self-critical refl ection is therefore a condition of the possibility of self-appraisal and self-judgment. I cannot be a genuinely moral being without the capacity of critically refl ecting upon myself as a practical subject. Referring to Selbstwertung, Husserl recognizes self-appraisal as a defi ning feature of the "moral human being"94. Truly "moral," then, can only be the person who appraises himself and his life as a whole- not merely his individual actions. Self-refl ection and self-criticism, therefore, are inseparably intertwined with Husserl's conception of happiness. As previously emphasized, ethical happiness or eudaimonia is diff erent from sheer joyfulness based on the fulfi llment of volitions or inclinations. Rather, Husserl describes the former as a "refl ective joyfulness" (refl ektive Freudigkeit: XLII, 331). It presupposes the acquisition of a critical stance toward one's 92 Cf. (Goto, 2004, 72–75). 93 Th e critical attitude is motivated by the experience of the inhibition of our strivings. See XXVII, 30: „Die von [den] peinlichen Entwertungen und Enttäuschungen ausgehende Motivation ist es, die [...] das Bedürfnis nach solcher Kritik und somit das spezifi sche Wahrheitsstreben bzw. das Streben nach Bewährung, nach ‚endgültiger' Rechtfertigung durch einsichtige Begründung motiviert." 94 XLII, 279 f.: „Der moralische Mensch urteilt über sich selbst, deutlicher gesprochen, er bewertet sich selbst als praktisches Subjekt. Wo immer er moralisch handelt, da beruht die Moralität auf aktueller oder habitueller Selbstbewertung und Selbstbeurteilung." XLII, 303: „Notwendig erhebt sich der Mensch zu einer Wertung des Lebens unter dem Gesichtspunkt des Besten, des am meisten zu Bevorzugenden, aber als eines solchen, das ein Gutes ist, und befriedigen kann, das Bestbefriedigende, das voll befriedigt, weil kein Besseres praktisch möglich ist." 370 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN life-choices as well as an incessant struggle against the inclinations that distract one from one's self-determined ideal. Th is "refl ective joyfulness," especially in the midst of struggles, occasional successes, and frequent failures, may be understood as a renewal of the ancient Stoic ideal of happiness95. Sociability and solidarity. Each human being is, according to Husserl, a "member of society, intertwined with human kind" (XLII, 516)96. Th e ethical connection between the individual and the society in which she lives can be realized in two ways. First, the principle of the social character of the ethical subject suggests that my being an ethical person is strictly related to how I behave with respect to others, my fellow human beings. As a practical subject, I have obligations toward other people. Th ese others are not an abstract entity, a mere product of philosophical refl ection, but, fi rst and foremost, my family, friends, colleagues, and, further removed, my ancestors (Stamm), nation, and so forth. All these persons and personalities of higher order are bearers of ethical demands on me. Th ese ethical demands, too, are grounded in my acts of love, which appraise a certain person or nation as absolutely valuable for me. Second, my happiness depends on the conditions that others set in shaping the communal world (Gemeinwelt), which, as the fi eld of my practical possibilities97, comprises not only physical nature but also a spiritual and historical world. "Traditionality" (Traditionalität: XLII, 506), for example, is an essential feature of human life. In Husserl's words, "we do not live on Robinson's island"98, because our fellow human beings co-constitute our surrounding world and thus shape it 95 See (Irvine, 2009; Heinämaa, 2017). Here we abstract from Husserl's well-documented personal struggles against depression, discrimination, and so forth. See, e.g., (Schuhmann, 1977, 428–429, 433, 472). 96 XLII, 302: „Mein Leben ist aber nichts für sich; es ist einig mit dem Leben der Anderen, es ist Stück in der Einheit des Gemeinschaft slebens und reicht darüber hinaus ins Leben der Menschheit." XLII, 312: „Wir leben nicht nur nebeneinander, sondern ineinander. Wir bestimmen einander personal, von Person zu Person, von Ich zu Ich, und unser Wille geht nicht nur auf die Anderen als umweltliche Sachen, sondern in die Anderen, er erstreckt sich in das fremde Wollen hinein, das Wollen des Anderen und zugleich unser Wollen ist, so dass seine Tat, wenn auch in verschieden abgewandelter Weise, zu unserer Tat werden kann. Wir wirken miteinander, und darin liegt immer ein Durcheinander und Ineinander [...]." XLII, 315: „Es ergibt sich darunter die Möglichkeit jener ethischen Synthese, in der jedes Ich ethisch wirkend lebt und sein bestmögliches Leben dadurch verwirklicht, dass es für die Anderen zugleich ihr bestmögliches mitverwirklicht, das aber so, dass es nicht ausser, sondern in den Anderen lebt [...] und in der Willensverständigung und -verknüpfung mit den Anderen eine Wirkungsgemeinschaft schafft [...]." Cf. (Toulemont, 1962, 251), and (Roth, 1960, 161). 97 XLII, 311 (n. 2): „Die Welt ist das All [...] aller realen Voraussetzungen meines und aller Wirkens." 98 XLII, 325: „Wir leben nicht auf einer Robinsoninsel [...]." 371HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 together with us99. Insofar as the surrounding world represents a condition for the realization of my aims and volitions, other human beings indirectly aff ect, positively or negatively, the practical possibility of my fulfi lling my ethical obligations. Th erefore we infer that, according to Husserl, I cannot be genuinely happy as an ethical subject in an unethical world. Th is does not mean, of course, that I can be a moral person only in relation to others, that is, by accepting the norms and obligations that they prescribe100. It does mean, however, that, if the world (the personal as well as the physical) does not fulfi ll certain conditions, I cannot actualize my potential and become happy. In this connection, Husserl remarks that "the individual-ethical problem, that is, the fundamental possibility of a selfresponsible life, is also inseparably bound up with the social-ethical problem of a fundamental possibility of a social life, social agency, understood as the agency of the sociality itself"101. Granted, then, that the ethical character of an individual is directly connected with her personal happiness, and that it closely depends on the ethical character of the society of fellow human beings in which she lives, and, more generally, of humanity itself, Husserl argues that "I can be wholly happy if and only if humanity as a whole can be"102. In this sense, happiness is not local but global. Yet Husserl also realizes that the community has no life and identity separate from the life and identity of its members103. Th is means that the happiness of my society as a whole depends on my happiness and that of others. According to Husserl, the society, as a personality of a higher order, is capable of happiness, as the single individual is104. Th erefore, because my life is nothing other than a part in the whole of the life of society, "I cannot evaluate my life without evaluating the interdependent 99 XLII, 507: „[...] Mitmenschen [bestimmen] [...] meine Umwelt." 100 See (Mensch, 2003). 101 XLII, 273 (n. 2): „Das individualethische Problem, das der prinzipiellen Möglichkeit selbstverantwortlichen Lebens, ist also untrennbar verbunden mit dem sozialethischen Problem einer prinzipiellen Möglichkeit sozialen Lebens, sozialen Handelns, verstanden als Handeln der Sozialität selbst." 102 XLII, 332: „Ich kann nur ganz glücklich sein, wenn die Menschheit als Ganzes es sein kann [...]." 103 Ms. F I 40, 170a (as cited in Melle, 2002, 239 f.): "Th e social-ethical aim that a community has to pursue has its reason only by being rooted in and being demanded by the individual aims of the members of the community. Th e community only lives in the life of the associated individuals in such a way that the individuals know themselves through acts of consciousness of the type of the 'social act' as functionaries of the community, that is, that they know that they execute in such acts acts of community." 104 XLII, 313: „Als Korrelat entspringt ein ethisches Gemeinschaft sleben und in ihm ein gemeinschaft liches Güterreich als bestmögliches für diese Gemeinschaft . Als Gemeinschaft gewinnt dann diese personale synthetisch verknüpft e Vielheit Selbstzufriedenheit; und in ihr beschlossen ist dann Selbstzufriedenheit der einzelnen Personen." 372 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN life of the others"105. Th us my happiness can be undermined by my experience of the misery of my fellow human beings. Eudaimonia and empathy (Einfühlung)106 go hand in hand. If I perceive others to be miserable, my happiness cannot be absolute and "pure" (rein). To ignore others' feelings and suff erings would not be a solution to this problem, Husserl argues, because it would be "ignoble and bad"107 and not lead to an ethical life, the presupposition for a happy life108. As a result, the combination of empathy and misery guarantees that a life of pure joy will be a practical impossibility for the decent human being who participates in the lives of other human beings109. Th is is one more reason why Husserl argues that happiness, that is, fulfi llment, cannot be the perfect satisfaction of all the individual's needs, plans, and wants. He posits that an uninterrupted "continuity of success [in this regard] is beyond human power" (XLII, 330). Hence it is irrational to suppose that the pleasure that comes from the complete fulfi llment of all one's aspirations is the highest goal of life110. Husserl traces the impossibility of any total satisfaction in life to the typically human striving for infi nite life and thus infi nite happiness111. In fact, perfect happiness and fi nite life are incompatible, and the pursuit of eternal happiness must not vitiate the achievement of temporal happiness. A life that lacks joy at some points is a certainty112. Yet, although perfect joy is a practical impossibility, genuine happiness is a real possibility, and one must conceive of it as such. Th e impossibility of an 105 XLII, 302: „Mein Leben ist aber nichts für sich; es ist einig mit dem Leben der Anderen, es ist Stück in der Einheit des Gemeinschaft slebens und reicht darüber hinaus ins Leben der Menschheit. Ich kann nicht mein Leben werten, ohne das mitverfl ochtene Leben der Anderen zu werten." 106 IV, 167, 169, 199, 230, etc. 107 XLII, 331: „[...] [w]äre es in der Form möglich, dass ich mich taub machte für fremdes und eigenes Leid, so wäre es unwürdig und schlecht." 108 (Brudzińska, 2017, 297) remarks correctly „dass die Selbstzufriedenheit, die ein tugendhaft es Leben, ein Leben aus Verantwortung gegenüber sich selbst und den sich selbst auferlegten Pfl ichten, nicht das Leben der Glückseligkeit in seiner eigentlichen Bedeutung sein kann. Letzteres vollzieht sich in der Vergemeinschaft ung." 109 XLII, 330: „[...] [e]ine Kontinuität der Freude kann es für niemanden geben, und gar ein Leben reiner Freude ist unmöglich für den rechten Menschen, der an anderen Menschen Anteil hat." 110 See (Hobbes, 1968), Part One, chaps. VI, VIII, X–XI, and XIII, where human insatiability is identifi ed as the leading cause of human insecurity and thus of human misery. 111 XV, 404: „Es ist kein Zufall, dass der Mensch, immerfort mit Einzelheiten der Erfahrung, der Bewertung, der begehrenden und handelnden Abzielung (Bezweckung) beschäft igt, niemals zu einer Zufriedenheit kommt, oder vielmehr, dass keine Befriedigung im einzelnen und in der Endlichkeit wirkliche und volle Befriedigung ist, und dass Befriedigung auf eine Lebenstotalität und personale Seinstotalität verweist, auf eine Einheit in der Totalität der habituellen Geltungen, die alle Endlichkeit übersteigt." 112 See F I 24, 151, which is consistent with XLII, 330. 373HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 unqualifi ed enjoyment of a happy life does not preclude the possibility of a resolute pursuit of a blessed life113. Chance and destiny. Th us far we have focused on the factors infl uencing happiness that are in our power. Yet what can jeopardize the pursuit of happiness is not only the empathically felt misery of others or the hostile condition of an unethical society, but also what Husserl refers to as "chance" (Zufall) and "destiny" (Schicksal). Husserl explicitly picks up on the role of irrational chance from Kierkegaard (XLII, 285). Th e question is twofold. First, we must ask whether human life, and, more specifi cally, a happy human life, is possible in a world whose brute facticity prevents the realization of the subject's absolute goods-thus suggesting a kind of practical nihilism. Second, we must ask the same question of a world that does not yield any sense at all-thus indicating a sort of theoretical nihilism. Bluntly put: "Can I live [ethically and thus happily] in a 'senseless' world?"114 Regarding the fi rst aspect of the question, Husserl provides the example of an unsuccessful artist who cannot be satisfi ed because, despite his best eff orts, he sees his work resulting in failure due to internal or external irrationalities115. On this description, the artist, as an ethical subject, is satisfi ed with his life's ideal, but, as an aesthetic subject incapable of realizing it, unsatisfi ed. He affi rms the ideal that governs his life, but he is miserable because he cannot attain it. What prevents him from realizing his ideal could be twofold, namely, his own limitations or the facticity of a hostile or indiff erent world in which irrational chance frustrates human aspirations. Th e example of the unsuccessful artist involves a person who cannot achieve his personal ideal due to practical obstacles. Regarding the second aspect of the question, other cases pose the problem of whether one's belief in a senseless world interferes with the performance of one's ethical duties. It might seem that if the world made no sense, every ethical obligation would also be meaningless and could not determine or direct my will. Husserl argues, however, that even "the knowledge of the impossibility of the aim of 113 Cf. (Hart, 1992, 286–287). 114 XLII, 307: „Kann ich leben in einer ‚sinnlosen' Welt?" XLII, 526: „Was können wir Menschen überhaupt tun angesichts des Schicksals und der uns alle angehenden Möglichkeit von Situationen der Verzweifl ung oder des totalen praktischen Zweifels, die Totalität der praktischen Möglichkeiten in Frage stellend?" XLII, 306: „Wie aber, wenn das Leben wertlos wäre, wenn es überhaupt nicht zu einem durch mich guten werden kann, wenn, das zu erwirken, ausser meiner Macht ist?" 115 XLII, 322: „Der Künstler kann nicht befriedigt sein, wenn er trotz besten Willens und Strebens sein Werk misslingen sieht vermöge innerer oder äusserer Irrationalitäten." 374 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN my will" would "cripple" my will only if I were a kind of "achievement machine" (Leistungsmaschine) designed merely to attain a particular good or realize a particular value (XLII, 309–310). He asks, for example, whether a mother who "'knew' that the world has 'no meaning'," or that "the world would end in an hour" and destroy every human value so that it would sink into a chaos without any values, would still love and care for her child for as long as possible, and answers that, for "the right mother," the welfare of the child is an absolute subjective value that cannot be undermined by any external conditions (XLII, 310). Even if the world dissolves in a heap of irrational accidents, then, the ethical subject "is justifi ed before himself"116. He acted "to the best of his conscience and cognition" (mit bestem Wissen und Gewissen), he did what he had to do, and he kept the best of the attainable. Th us he is a morally good person. Th erefore ethical obligations and categorical imperatives do not lose their validity for ethical subjects even if blind chance and irrational fate "govern" the world, even if the end of the world or the destruction of the earth is imminent, and even if the world becomes "a hell" (XLII, 310–311). Subjects can still fulfi ll their obligations by acting in accordance with them while being aware of the fact that their actions will not bring about the consequences that they expected and that motivated them to act as they did. Although their actions missed their targets, the subjects are morally "satisfi ed" (befriedigt) with themselves because they did what they were supposed to do under the circumstances. Husserl remarks, however, that under such circumstances "I cannot count myself 'happy'" (glückselig: XLII, 311). Th ere is a tension in the notion of happiness here. One must distinguish between "self-satisfaction" (Selbstzufriedenheit) and "happiness" (Glückseligkeit). Whereas self-satisfaction is an essential element of happiness, it is not a suffi cient condition for it. "Happiness is more than selfsatisfaction," Husserl argues, because, he posits, happiness entails the factual givenness of the conditions that enable the realization of my absolute personal goals, values, and ideals (XLII, 311). Consequently, in order for me to be happy, it does not suffi ce that I submit my whole life and its guiding ideal to a critical examination and thus make it the subject of an axiological judgment, which amounts to a premise for the conversion of my will toward a better ideal of life. In addition to this, I must also 116 XLII, 322: „In jedem Moment bleibt ihm die kategorische Forderung, und ihr tut er Genüge, wenn er das Bestmögliche erstrebt und in die Wege leitet; mag es auch misslingen, er ist vor sich gerechtfertigt." 375HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 recognize an obligation in regard to the world as the fi eld of practical possibilities in which I act. Th ere are two kinds of ethical obligations at stake here, the fi rst to myself and the second to the world. Th e world must satisfy the basic conditions in virtue of which I can act ethically in it. Yet for Husserl this does not only mean that I must act in the world in order to render it a place in which my personal absolute values can be realized-thus overcoming practical nihilism. It also means that I must believe that such a transformation of the world is possible-thus overcoming theoretical nihilism. Th e conditions of the possibility for the genuine "humanization" (Vermenschlichung) of the world-for understanding the events of the world as a teleological progression-must be fulfi lled if the human being is to live and act practically in the world117. In other words, I must "[a]ct as if I had the certainty that chance is not in principle hostile to the human being and as if I could be certain eventually to attain a good through perseverance"118. Th is belief in the "positivity" of the world is not a product of philosophical refl ection. Indeed, Husserl emphasizes, human beings live as if it were always possible to attain happiness although they know that the probability of attaining it is low119. He calls this presumption the "practical general thesis," that is, the thesis that a world exists in which human life and human happiness are possible and realizable120, 117 XLII, 482: „Der Mensch kann ernstlich nur Mensch sein in einer Welt, die von ihm her sich in Einsicht teleologisch gestalten lässt, sei es auch in einem unendlichen Progressus, aber in der Gewissheit, dass es sich um eine apodiktisch gültige praktische Idee handelt. Dazu gehörte aber, dass die vorgegebene Welt von vornherein auf den Menschen hin und die von ihm geforderte Teleologie (wenn er soll in ihr echt leben können) angelegt sein <muss>, dass die Bedingungen der Möglichkeit der echten Humanisierbarkeit erfüllen muss und darin ihre Wahrheit hat. Nur um dessentwillen kann er sie im Voraus praktisch bejahen, kann er den Kampf mit ihren Irrationalitäten aufnehmen, den Irrationalitäten ausser ihm und in ihm selbst und seinesgleichen." Cf. XLII, 378 f. 118 XLII, 323: „Ja, ich werde am besten tun, die Wahrscheinlichkeiten praktisch zu überwerten und so zu handeln, als ob ich die Gewissheit hätte, dass das Schicksal nicht prinzipiell menschenfeindlich ist, und als ob ich gewiss sein könnte, durch Ausharren schliesslich ein so Gutes zu erreichen, dass ich hinterher mit meinem Ausharren sehr zufrieden sein könnte." 119 XLII, 382: „Die Menschen leben in einem beständigen Trug des praktischen Begehrens und Handelns. Sie leben so, als ob ein Glück (eine Befriedigung im Aufsteigen der Gütererzeugung und -erwerbung) erreichbar wäre, obschon sie doch sehen können, dass niemand dieses Glück hat und dass die Wahrscheinlichkeit eines befriedigenden Aufsteigens nicht eben gross ist." 120 XLII, 449: „[...] Voraussetzung der Positivität: Glaube, dass endgültig befriedigtes Dasein im umweltlich gerichteten Leben möglich sei. Glaube, dass in der Welt ein befriedigendes menschliches Leben durchzuführen sei, dass ‚man leben ‚könne',' dass es sich ‚in der Welt existieren lasse' - man kann ‚existieren' (praktische Generalthesis). Bedingungen der Möglichkeit eines solchen Lebens." 376 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN in analogy to the theoretical general thesis of the natural attitude that posits the existence of the world. As the aim of Husserl's epistemology is not to negate the natural attitude (III/1, 56–99), so he also does not denounce the practical general thesis as an illusion that we need to overcome. To the contrary, the project underlying his ethical refl ections is the search for the motives that underpin this originary belief (Urdoxa). Th ese motives, however, cannot be given by experience itself, as in the case of the natural attitude. Experience does not ground my belief in the "positivity" of the world; rather, the opposite is the case. Th erefore, experience notwithstanding, I must, that is, I have an ethical obligation to, believe that the world responds to basic human needs. This core belief, Husserl declares, is a rational one: Rational belief. If I have the slightest real possibility that the world "complies" with human purposes, then I must take this presumption as a certainty and act accordingly. Th us I do, in any case, the best possible. Idea of God, of a world of God. Th e ethical 'as if '. Th e belief that has its power from the ethical will121. Th is belief is not only rational but also ethical, that is, good: What is theoretically reprehensible, the overvaluation of probabilities [...], is practically good and therefore, but only in a practical situation, required. Look at what makes you strong! Believe in the world and chance! Take the world as if it were a good one [...]: Bracket the unavoidable dissatisfaction due to frequent perils and disappointments, abandon the empirical expectation that in the next categorically demanded pursuit it will happen again!122 Th is hypothetical imperative-note its original "if-then" structure-seems to be more than a mere piece of existential advice123. 121 XLII, 317 (n. 1): „Vernunft glaube. Habe ich die mindeste reale Möglichkeit dafür, dass die Welt menschlichen Zwecken ‚entgegenkomme,' so muss ich diese Vermutlichkeit wie eine Gewissheit nehmen und danach handeln. So tue ich jedenfalls das Bestmögliche. Idee Gottes, einer Gotteswelt. Das ethische ‚als ob.' Der Glaube, der vom ethischen Willen her seine Kraft hat." We examine the role of God and "rational faith" in the next part. 122 XLII, 323: „Was theoretisch verwerfl ich ist, das Überwerten der Wahrscheinlichkeiten oder gar nur leichten Vermutlichkeiten zugunsten einer empirischen Gewissheit, ist praktisch gut und somit aber nur in praktischer Lage gefordert. Blicke auf das, was dich stark macht! Glaube an die Welt und das Schicksal! Nimm es, als ob es gewiss ein gutes wäre, und lebe so, als ob du es dir schliesslich zu Diensten bringen kannst, als ob du es zwingen, dir freundlich gesinnt machen kannst; lebe in dieser Gewissheit und du wirst das Beste tun! Das sagt aber: Klammere die unvermeidliche Unzufriedenheit bei Eintreten gar gehäuft er Fährnisse und Enttäuschungen ein, lasse die empirische Erwartung, dass es im nächsten kategorisch geforderten Streben wieder so ergehen wird, aus!" 123 In many texts of Husserliana XLII the rhetorical tone and ethical content evoke their counterparts in Marcus Aurelius' Th oughts to Himself ("Meditations"). 377HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 Th ese eudaimonistic self-exhortations make clear that for Husserl the possibility of an ethical life is grounded in a practical belief that the ethical subject is obligated to accept. Th is approach makes ethics a matter of belief, albeit of a diff erent kind from religious faith-even if their contents partially overlap. According to Husserl, religion and ethics are based on the belief in the teleological structure of the world as responsive to basic human needs. Religion rests on an external revelation, however, whereas ethics grounds this belief in an ethical obligation that the subject must acknowledge. Also, religion promises blessedness in a next life, whereas ethics deals with happiness in this one124. Yet, as an ethical life is a condition for happiness, so the possibility of happiness is tightly bound to the belief in a responsive world125. All this leads to the paradoxical conclusion that at the basis of a theoretical judgment concerning the factual constitution of the world lies not empirical experience but practical volition126. As Husserl says: I can be happy in the sense that, on the basis of a properly acquired self-trust, I can at the same time trust the world; I can be happy in the sense that I gain the consciousness that I belong to a world of human beings in the framework of an objective world that makes possible the infi nity of ethical striving and a rational formation of the world-a formation in which humanity can come to a progressively greater possible happiness through its own work127. Regret. According to Husserl, the criterion for determining whether one has achieved harmony in one's life is a particular kind of ethical emotion, namely, regret (Reue)128. In general, regret implies the possibility of recollecting one's past actions and of evaluating them in light of one's past or present volitions and positions. Th us I feel regret for an action that I performed in the past because I have come to regard it as not refl ecting my convictions or as inconsistent with my volitions or positions, present or past. 124 We examine the role of religion in the next part. 125 But, again, is the belief that the world makes sense an ethical obligation or an "existential recommendation"? In any case, such a belief is a condition of the possibility of choosing and acting morally and meaningfully in the world. If I do not believe in the meaningfulness and rationality of the world, any moral obligation loses its character as an absolute obligation and becomes a mere piece of "worldly wisdom." Yet Husserl is talking about a belief that grounds the very possibility of ethics. As such, it should be understood as a meta-ethical belief, and the obligation involved, as a meta-ethical obligation. 126 We examine the role of Husserl's "postulates of practical reason" in the next part. 127 XLII, 331, translated by (Hart, 1998, 287 f.). Cf. (Roth, 1960, 162). 128 XLII, 199, 240, 304–309, 454–455, 473, 492, etc.; XV, 422–424. Remorse can in particular instances translate Reue, but regret generally fi ts better. See (Wallace, 2013), for a more recent discussion of regret with respect to ethical issues. 378 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN More precisely, however, what Husserl has in mind here is a more encompassing form of regret, which does not refer merely to a single action or set of actions or beliefs. It is rather a kind of "radical and universal regret" (XLII, 492) directed toward one's entire life and targeting one's long-term volitions and positions129. In other words, the object of regret is the whole life of an individual, and its targets are the volitions and positions that have shaped this life thus far. Th erefore I reproach myself by asking not why I did what I did, but why I wanted to do it, and I feel regret if I cannot fi nd any rational justifi cation for my volitions and positions. As Husserl remarks: "I have here a meaning of life [Lebenssinn] that I can no longer be responsible for; my previous life is radically misguided, untrue to its root" (XLII, 492). Th us a universal axiological (negative) judgment lays the foundation for a new universal will to reshape my life. With that, the question concerning happiness assumes a radically new character. Husserl does not identify satisfaction as a positive condition such as the fulfi llment of goals, wants, or irrational impulses. Rather, satisfaction in the sense of happiness indicates a harmony of the subject's actions, volitions, and positions, and hence the negative condition of an absence of regret in the encompassing sense. Th us I am happy when I do not need to reproach myself-not with respect to singular actions that I performed in the past but with respect to the way in which I have lived my life as a whole until now: "Th e 'I' must be able to look at, survey, and appraise its entire active life in such a way that it can continually affi rm in the will all the decisions that it accomplishes and has accomplished" (XLII, 487). Such affi rmation requires apodictic insight of the practical kind (XLII, 487). Husserl suggests that the question concerning a happy life is a matter of whether one can live without any regret at all, and that the answer is that one cannot130. Without claiming that our list of essential aspects of Husserl's eudaimonism is exhaustive, we turn to the connection between his metaethics and his metaphysics. 129 Th is kind of regret, for Husserl, distinguishes human beings from animals. See Ms. A V 5, 14a (1927–1933): „Das Tier übt keine Kritik an seinem früheren Leben, es hat keine Reue (das Haustier ist schon ein vermenschlichtes Tier), es hat nicht hinter sich ein Leben, das der Kritik unterworfen ist und war." 130 XLII, 505: „Wie kann ein menschliches Leben so verlaufen, dass es als totales ax<iotisch>-praktisch bejahbar wäre, in dem es also keiner Reue, keiner Umkehr, keiner Preisgabe des vermeinten und erworbenen Guts bedürft e oder, wenn das <der Fall wäre>, so nur in der Weise der Korrektur, der aufsteigenden Besserung? Aber ist die Frage nicht schon beantwortet, und zwar im Sinn völliger Unmöglichkeit?" 379HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 4. THE METAPHYSICS OF HAPPINESS AND BLESSEDNESS Husserl's eudaimonism possesses existential dimensions131. Given his experiences with the Existenzphilosophien of Jaspers and Heidegger (V, 138–162), as well as his knowledge of the Existenzphilosophie of Kierkegaard (XLII, 228–235), Husserl empathizes with the struggling person who strives for self-satisfaction and happiness in a potentially meaningless world: "Can I live in a senseless world?" (XLII, 307) Positing that one cannot live, let alone happily, in a world that does not make sense (XLII, 382)132, he argues that a life lived against "the dark horizon" of senselessness can only be lived on the basis of a "rational faith" (Vernunft glaube) in a God who cares for human beings133. At one point (on 28 December 1924, to be exact), he asks how the world-with its tension between individual and collective good and evil, love and hate, success and failure-"is to be understood otherwise than under the idea of God": How else, than that an absolute teleology thoroughly governs all I and I-life, all consciousness, and that it expresses itself-similarly to how a personal essence does in its personal demands-in the absolute demands in the souls? I can only be blessed, I can only be blessed in all suff ering, unhappiness, in all irrationality of my surrounding world, if I believe that God exists and this world is God's world. And if I want to hold on to the absolute ought with the whole power of my soul-and that is itself an absolute wanting-then I must absolutely believe that God exists. Faith is an absolute and highest demand134. Th is is only one of a number of passages in Husserliana XLII in which Husserl recites his teleological-philosophical-theological "creed"135. Th us he poses the question: "What must be believed, in order that the world can aft er all have a sense, in order that human life in it can remain rational?" (XLII, 238) His answer, which recalls but does not reference James's "will to believe" or Vaihinger's "philosophy of 'as 131 See, e.g., XLII, 378–379, 393–409, 420–422, 428–432, 449–450, 495–501, 520–523, 526–527. 132 For an excellent treatment of Husserl's approach to questions of existence see (Obsieger, 2016). 133 See, e.g., XLII, 169–176, 304–309. 134 XLII, 203 (emphasis added): „Wie anders, als dass durch alles Ich und Ich-Leben, durch alles Bewusstsein, eine absolute Teleologie hindurchwaltet und dass sie sich - ähnlich wie ein personales Wesen in seinen personalen Forderungen - ausspricht in den absoluten Forderungen in den Seelen? Ich kann nur selig sein, ich kann es in allem Leiden, Unglück, in aller Irrationalität meiner Umwelt nur sein, wenn ich glaube, dass Gott sei und diese Welt Gottes Welt. Und will ich mit ganzer Kraft meiner Seele an dem absoluten Sollen festhalten - und das ist selbst ein absolutes Wollen -, dann muss ich absolut glauben, dass er sei. Der Glaube ist absolute und höchste Forderung." 135 XLII, 237–238, 254–255, 261, 407. 380 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN if' "136, is an exercise in laying the transcendental conditions for a blessed life in the phenomenological sense. Th e fourth group of texts of Husserliana XLII contains Husserl's ethics, the third his metaphysics. We now briefl y survey his metaphysical Weltauff assung. In transcendental-phenomenological metaphysics, individual human existence achieves its full genuine signifi cance in a monadology that unfolds in a universal world teleology that fi nds expression in a philosophical theology137. A monad is the concrete unity of individual world-constituting subjectivity and its world; monads are meaning-intenders and sense-makers-they make sense of things or make things make sense (XLII, 137–159). Departing from the rationality of mental beings and the teleology of natural things, one arrives at a natural teleology with God as the entelechy of everything (XLII, 160–168). Th ese moves require an act of "rational faith" (Vernunft glaube) (XLII, 169–176). Both science and philosophy are revelations of the divinity, and the revelation of the divinity is a revelation of the ideas that determine the development of humanity (XLII, 176–177). Yet there is a tension between the "natural evidence" of practical-religious consciousness and the "scientifi c evidence" of theoretical-technological research (XLII, 178–182). In addition, there is not only "purely scientifi c, purely rational theology" (via the natural light) but also "theology based on 'irrational reasons' " (via the supernatural light or revelation); there are judgments, especially value judgments, that are based on the aff ects and the will; and there are cases of "collisions of values" and "confl icts of conscience" in which one must follow one's conscience to do what one must do without conclusive evidence or absolute certainty-so that faith in God is an ethically required faith in an absolute teleology (XLII, 183–203). Th ere is a natural development of "worldapprehensions" and of the teleological "world-apprehension" (Weltauff assung) (XLII, 204–211). "Genuine humanity" emerges as the absolute ideal of transcendental intersubjectivity, and approximation to this goal is desirable and possible (XLII, 212– 217). Th e course of discovery of universal teleology is a course of total constitution from the beginnings (XLII, 218–224). Th e human being is not only directed toward reason but also develops in levels of rationality (XLII, 225–227). Th ere is not only religious teleology but also rational teleology; while the rise of the modern scientifi c worldview has undermined the Bodenständigkeit that comes from religion, a new Bodenständigkeit comes from philosophy of existence and a new metaphysics (XLII, 136 See (James, 1896; Vaihinger, 1911). 137 Th is is the trajectory of the Th ird Group of texts in Husserliana XLII (137–263). 381HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 228–235). With respect to the possibility of a personal relationship between humanity and divinity, the individual human being can live nearer to or farther away from God, and the diff erence between the two ways of life is partly a function of divine grace (XLII, 235–236). Th ere is not only a scientifi c-teleological way of observing the world but also a non-scientifi c-teleological way, and one must ask what one must believe in order that the world may make sense (XLII, 236–238). Not only reason but also the aff ects and the will are sources of correctness and genuineness, and this distinction is relevant for the concept of world teleology (XLII, 238–242). Yet the rational human being retains ontological primacy in the constitution and understanding of the world in its historical teleology (XLII, 243–246). Th ere is a parallel between the turning inward of prayer and that of phenomenology; both are personal but neither is private (XLII, 246–247). In terms of justifi cation, the absolute, adequate, and apodictic apprehension of the teleology of the whole world remains an evidentiary ideal (XLII, 248–258). Th e solution to the problem of the relationship between philosophy and theology is philosophical theology as the culmination of philosophy; confessional theology follows and employs philosophy (XLII, 259–263). Given Husserl's transcendental phenomenology and his strenuous eff orts to make of philosophy a rigorous science seeking absolute, adequate, and apodictic evidence, this entire "cosmology" (XLII, 515–519) may seem surprising, even shocking. Some will claim that "it is not phenomenology," but others will follow Husserl's lead from transcendental phenomenology to phenomenological metaphysics138. Th e real question concerns the evidence for Husserl's monadologicalteleological-theological world-apprehension (XLII, 447–448). He says, of course, that he is proposing a metaphysics that rests on transcendental-phenomenological Besinnungen and engaging not in mysticism but in metaphysics (XLII, 158). It seems to come down, however, more to "postulates of practical reason" in Kant's sense139 than to "faith seeking understanding" in Augustine's or Anselm's140. Yet there are diff erences in both cases. Husserl's metaethics is embedded in a metaphysics that rests on the "rational faith" that the world makes sense because there is One who makes it make sense, although this Vernunft glaube does not relieve us of the task 138 Cf. (Marion, 1989, 1997, 2001). 139 XLII, 217: „[...] hat Kant nicht in seiner Postulatenlehre, obschon keineswegs in der Form, die er ihr gegeben hat, ein Tiefes und Wahres im Auge gehabt?" Cf. (Kant, 1974, 140–153). See also (Loidolt, 2010). 140 See, e.g., (Tullius, 2015). Husserl's theology is remarkably free of religious doctrine and dogma. Cf. (Held, 2010). 382 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN of trying to make sense of it on our own. If the world were meaningless, if history showed no progress, if goods and values had no chance, if striving for happiness were futile, then "the knowledge of the impossibility of the goal [of producing something of lasting value] would have to cripple my will"-but only if I were "a kind of performance-machine", which, Husserl insists, I am not141. Th e metaethical-metaphysical connection plays a defi ning role in Husserl's phenomenology of happiness. In this regard, it becomes evident that his phenomenology of happiness is not presuppositionless, and that this does not necessarily speak against it insofar as from the beginning of the phenomenological movement "the principle of presuppositionlessness" was formulated as the standard of "scientifi city" for "epistemological investigations"142. Th ere are limit problems of phenomenology because there are limit phenomena and human experiences of them and because phenomenology does not shy away from the investigation of such phenomena and experiences. Rigorous investigations of limit problems also respect "the principle of all principles"143, according to which the investigative intuitions conform to the givennesses within the limitations of their manners of givenness. 5. CONCLUSION FROM HAPPINESS TO BLESSEDNESS Husserliana XLII provides primary sources for understanding Husserl's eudaimonism. Other Husserliana volumes contain remarks on Glück or Glückseligkeit144, but few mention eudaimonia145. References to eudaimonia are also rare in Husserliana XLII. Yet they carry weight beyond their number146. Th is is a philological fact with a philosophical point. In every passage of Husserliana XLII in which Husserl writes of eudaimonia, namely, he emphasizes that it is "an infi nite object" or "goal" (XLII, 252), that its attainability and sustainability are conditional and problematic (XLII, 382), that "the impossibility of Eudaimonia" is a presupposition for the liberation of the human being toward blessedness (XLII, 469), and that eudaimonia requires Selbstbesinnung und Weltbesinnung (XLII, 515). 141 XLII, 309–310. See also (Römer, 2011). 142 Th is aspect of the principle is oft en neglected or forgotten. See XIX/1, 24–29 (emphasis added). 143 III/1, 51. Th ere is no apriori confl ict between the method applied and the matter analyzed. 144 XXVII, 85; XXVIII, 411; XXXVII, 38, 207. 145 XXVIII, 11; XXXVII, 77–78. 146 See again XLII, 252, 382, 469, 515. 383HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 So Husserl can be diffi dent about human happiness: "Th us the human being lives, all in all, an unhappy life [...]"147. Yet the pursuit of happiness is, like the pursuit of wisdom, "an infi nite task"148, for its potential value does not depend on its perfect achievement. And striving to be "happier" can get in the way of being happy: "Th e better is the enemy of the good" (XLII, 281). Our analysis of the roles of chance and destiny in Husserl's eudaimonism demonstrates the extent to which he views eudaimonia as fragile. Yet we have also emphasized how his descriptions of happiness feature virtue as a stabilizing force in its pursuit and achievement. Tugend, which has been the focus of much of the literature on the relation between phenomenology and ethics149, plays a prominent role in the texts of Husserliana XLII. Again, a case in point is the foundational Text No. 24 (XLII, 297–333), in which Husserl argues that happiness, self-satisfaction, and virtue are so related that there can be no happiness without self-satisfaction, but no self-satisfaction without virtue, and therefore no happiness without virtue150. Th is text demonstrates the basic place of virtue in Husserl's concept of eudaimonia and shows that he does not underestimate the importance of morality for the phenomenology of happiness. Husserl does not have to be a virtue ethicist in the traditional Western sense for virtue to play a key role in his concept of happiness. To understand Husserl's eudaimonism more fully, however, one must also examine more deeply than this paper can several key ideas that are inseparable from his concept of happiness, for example, evil (das Böse)151, God („unendliches Glück")152, and death or human fi nitude-for how can I be happy when I know that I am going to die or when my loved one does die153? Th ere also remains the question concerning the connection between Husserl's "rational faith" in human beings' prospects for temporary happiness in this life and his refl ective diffi dence about, even studied indiff erence toward, their potential for eternal blessedness in a next-and all that the 147 XXXV, 44: „So lebt der Mensch alles in allem ein unseliges Leben [...]." 148 VI, 73, 319, 323–326, 336, 338–339, 341, 345. 149 See, e.g., (Drummond, 2013, 2014; Hermberg & Gyllenhammer, 2013). 150 XLII, 311, 316, 329–333 (cf. 198). 151 VIII, 354–355; XLII, 168, 228, 318, 374, 407. 152 XLII, 166–168. Perhaps "Husserl's God" reveals himself better not in such works as Ideas I (III/1, 89–90, 92, 109–110, 115, 124–125, 175, 350–351) but in Husserl's correspondence. See Husserl to Erich Przywara, 15 July 1932 (BW VII, 237); Husserl to Daniel Feuling, 30 March 1933 (BW VII, 88); Husserl to Gustav Albrecht, 22 December 1935 (BW IX, 124). Cf. XXXIX, 167 (November 1933), and XLII, xxii, fn. 6, lxv, fn. 3, lxvi, fn. 1–2, lxxv, fn. 2, lxxvii–lxxviii, fn. 3. 153 XLII, 393–399, 408–413, 420–422, 495–501, 508. 384 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN latter involves: religious piety, divine benevolence, and an odd kind of "impersonal immortality" that many people of traditional faith will fi nd unsatisfying154. Husserl, like Aristotle, displays little interest in life aft er death. Th e place to be happy is here, the time is now, and the question is how. Finally, it is a serious question whether Husserl solves the problem of what makes values valuable and goods good155. What is a value? What is a good? What makes a value valuable? What makes a good good? What makes the highest good- happiness or blessedness-the highest good? Aristotle and Kant, who also sought answers to these questions, were doing not only ethics but also metaethics. In many texts of Husserliana XLII, Husserl too is doing not only ethics but also metaethics. Th e key to his phenomenological clarifi cation of the goodness of goods and the value of values appears to be an axiological application of his concept of the constitution of meaning or sense, a practical, ethical application which is implicit in the Logical Investigations156 and explicit in texts of Husserliana XLII157-but which must also remain the horizon of this paper and the focus of another. R EFER ENCES Annas, J. (1989). Aristotle on Virtue and Happiness. University of Dayton Review, 19, 7–22. Annas, J. (1993). Th e Morality of Happiness. New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press. Annas, J. (2003). Should Virtue Make You Happy? Apeiron, 35, 1–19. Annas, J. (2008a). Virtue and Eudaimonism. In S. Cahn & C. Vitrano (Eds.), Happiness: Classic and Contemporary Readings in Philosophy (245–261). New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press. Annas, J. (2008b). Happiness as Achievement. In S. Cahn & C. Vitrano (Eds.), Happiness: Classic and Contemporary Readings in Philosophy (238–245). New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press. Aristotle. (1999). Nicomachean Ethics (2nd ed.). Indianapolis & Cambridge, Massachusetts: Hackett Publishing Company. Arroyo, C. (2009). Th e Role of Feelings in Husserl's Ethics. Idealistic Studies, 39, 11–22. Augustine. (1984). On the Happy Life. In M. Clark (Ed.), Augustine: Selected Writings (163–194). Mahwah, New Jersey: Paulist Press. Ben-Shahar, T. (2007). Happier: Learn the Secrets to Daily Joy and Lasting Fulfi llment. New York: McGraw-Hill. Brentano, F. (1969). Vom Ursprung sittlicher Erkenntnis. Hamburg: Felix Meiner. 154 XV, 608–610; XXXIV, 27, 471; XLII, 154, 261, 324, 405–406, 429. 155 See, e.g., (Schuhmann, 1991; Peucker, 2011). 156 XIX/1, 401–410, 745–747; XX/2, 417–436. 157 To restrict the search to the constitution of values: XLII, 172, 181, 197–198, 214, 224, 241–242, 249–250, 270–279, 332, 334–335, 337, 357–358, 381–382, 424–449, 460–461, 463–466. 385HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 Brentano, F. (1978). Grundlegung und Aufb au der Ethik. Hamburg: Felix Meiner. Brudzińska, J. (2017). In Sachen Glück: Ein genetisch-phänomenologischer Ansatz. Gestalt Th eory, 39, 281–302. Cahn, S. (2004). Th e Happy Immoralist. In S. Cahn & C. Vitrano (Eds.), Happiness: Classic and Contemporary Readings in Philosophy (262). New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press. Cahn, S. (2008a). A Challenge to Morality. In S. Cahn & C. Vitrano (Eds.), Happiness: Classic and Contemporary Readings in Philosophy (265). New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press. Cahn, S. (2008b). A Further Challenge. In S. Cahn & C. Vitrano (Eds.), Happiness: Classic and Contemporary Readings in Philosophy (266). New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press. Cahn, S., & Vitrano, C. (2015). Happiness and Goodness: Philosophical Refl ections on Living Well. New York: Columbia University Press. Cairns, D. (1973). Guide for Translating Husserl. Th e Hague: Martinus Nijhoff . Cobet, T. (2003). Husserl, Kant und die Praktische Philosophie: Analysen zu Moralität und Freiheit. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann. Drummond, J. (1995). Moral Objectivity: Husserl's Sentiments of the Understanding. Husserl Studies, 12, 165–183. Drummond, J. (2002). Aristotelianism and Phenomenology. In J. Drummond & L. Embree (Eds.), Phenomenological Approaches to Moral Philosophy: A Handbook (15–45). Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Drummond, J. (2010). Self-responsibility and Eudaimonia. In C. Ierna, H. Jacobs, & F. Mattens (Eds.), Philosophy, Phenomenology, Sciences: Essays in Commemoration of Edmund Husserl (411–430). Dordrecht: Springer. Drummond, J. (2013). Phenomenology, Eudaimonia, and the Virtues. In K. Hermberg & P. Gyllenhammer (Eds.), Phenomenology and Virtue Ethics (97–112). London & New York: Bloomsbury Publishing. Drummond, J. (2014). Husserl's Phenomenological Axiology and Aristotelian Virtue Ethics. In M. Tuominen, S. Heinämaa, & V. Mäkinen (Eds.), New Perspectives on Aristotelianism and Its Critics (179–195). Leiden: Brill. Drummond, J. (2015). Neo-Aristotelian Ethics: Naturalistic or Phenomenological. In J. Bloechl & N. de Warren (Eds.), Phenomenology in a New Key-Between Analysis and History: Essays in Honor of Richard Cobb-Stevens (135–149). Dordrecht: Springer. Drummond, J. (2018). Husserl's Middle Period and the Development of his Ethics. In D. Zahavi (Ed.), Th e Oxford Handbook of the History of Phenomenology (135–154). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Fichte, J. G. (1979). Die Bestimmung des Menschen (5th ed.). Hamburg: Felix Meiner. Fichte, J. G. (1983). Die Anweisung zum seligen Leben (3rd ed.). Hamburg: Felix Meiner. Frankfurt, H. (1971). Freedom of the Will and the Concept of a Person. Journal of Philosophy, 68, 5–20. Goto, H. (2004). Der Begriff der Person in der Phänomenologie Edmund Husserls: Ein Interpretationsversuch der Husserlschen Phänomenologie als Ethik im Hinblick auf den Begriff der Habitualität. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann. Hart, J. (1992). Th e Person and the Common Life: Studies in a Husserlian Social Ethics. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Hart, J. (1995). Husserl and Fichte-with Special Regard to Husserl's Lectures on Fichte's Ideal of Humanity. Husserl Studies, 12, 135–163. Hart, J. (2006). Th e Absolute Ought and the Unique Individual. Husserl Studies, 22, 223–240. Haybron, D. (2008). Th e Pursuit of Unhappiness: Th e Elusive Psychology of Well-Being. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 386 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN Heff ernan, G. (2010). Th e phronimos, the phainomena, and the pragmata: Are We Responsible for the Th ings that Appear to Us to be Good for Us? An Axiological Exercise in Aristotelian Phenomenology. Th e New Yearbook for Phenomenology and Phenomenological Philosophy, 10, 171–200. Heff ernan, G. (2014). Th e Phenomenon Happiness: Prolegomena to a Phenomenological Description. Th e Humanistic Psychologist, 42, 249–267. Heinämaa, S. (2017). On the Complexity and Wholeness of Human Beings: Husserlian Perspectives. International Journal of Philosophical Studies, 25, 393–406. Held, K. (2010). Gott in Edmund Husserls Phänomenologie. In C. Ierna, H. Jacobs, & F. Mattens (Eds.), Philosophy, Phenomenology, Sciences: Essays in Commemoration of Edmund Husserl (723–738). Dordrecht: Springer. Hermberg, K., & Gyllenhammer, P. (Eds.). (2013). Phenomenology and Virtue Ethics: Issues in Phenomenology and Hermeneutics. London: Bloomsbury Publishing. Hobbes, T. (1968). Leviathan. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books. Husserl, E. (1950–2014). Gesammelte Werke or Husserliana (vols. I–XLII). Th e Hague: Martinus Nijhoff , 1950–1987; Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1988–2004; Dordrecht: Springer, 2004–2014. Husserl, E. (1969). Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischen Philosophie, Zweites Buch: Phänomenologische Untersuchungen zur Konstitution (Hua IV). Th e Hague: Martinus Nijhoff . Husserl, E. (1987). Fichtes Menschheitsideal. In Hua XXV (267–293). Dordrecht: Martinus Nijhoff . Husserl, E. (1988). Vorlesungen über Ethik und Wertlehre (1908–1914) (Hua XXVIII). Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Husserl, E. (1989a). Aufsätze und Vorträge (1922–1937) (Hua XXVII). Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Husserl, E. (1989b). Fünf Aufsätze über Erneuerung. In Hua XXVII (3–94). Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Husserl, E. (1994). Briefwechsel (I–X). Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Husserl, E. (2001–2012). Materialien (I–IX). Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers & Springer. Husserl, E. (2004). Einleitung in die Ethik: Vorlesungen Sommersemester 1920/1924 (Hua XXXVII). Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Husserl, E. (2014). Grenzprobleme der Phänomenologie: Analysen des Unbewusstseins und der Instinkte, Metaphysik, Späte Ethik-Texte aus dem Nachlass (1908–1937) (Hua XLII). Dordrecht: Springer. Irvine, W. (2009). A Guide to the Good Life: Th e Ancient Art of Stoic Joy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. James, W. (1896). Th e Will to Believe. Th e New World, 5, 327–347. Kant, I. (1974). Kritik der praktischen Vernunft . Hamburg: Felix Meiner. Kant, I. (1996). Th e Cambridge Edition of the Works of Immanuel Kant: Practical Philosophy (M. Gregor, Ed. & Trans.). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kant, I. (1999). Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten (B. Kraft & D. Schönecker, Eds.). Hamburg: Felix Meiner. Kekes, J. (1982). Happiness. Mind, 91, 358–376. Kraut, R. (1979). Two Conceptions of Happiness. Philosophical Review, 88, 167–197. Kraut, R. (1989). Aristotle on the Human Good. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Loidolt, S. (2010). Husserl und das Faktum der praktischen Vernunft : Phänomenologische Ansprüche an eine philosophische Ethik. In C. Ierna, H. Jacobs, & F. Mattens (Eds.), Philosophy, 387HORIZON 8 (2) 2019 Phenomenology, Sciences: Essays in Commemoration of Edmund Husserl (483–503). Dordrecht: Springer. Loidolt, S. (2011). Ist Husserls späte Ethik 'existenzialistisch'? Journal Phänomenologie, 36, 36–50. Loidolt, S. (2018). Value, Freedom, Responsibility: Central Th emes in Phenomenological Ethics. In D. Zahavi (Ed.), Th e Oxford Handbook of the History of Phenomenology (696–716). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Luft , S. (2010). Das Subjekt als moralische Person: Zu Husserls späten Refl exionen bezüglich des Personenbegriff s. In P. Merz, A. Staiti, & F. Steff en (Eds.), Geist–Person–Gemeinschaft : Freiburger Beiträge zur Aktualität Husserls (221–240). Würzburg: Ergon Verlag. Luft , S. (2012). Th e Subject as Moral Person: On Husserl's Late Refl ections concerning the Concept of Personhood. In G.-J. van der Heiden, K. Novotny, I. Römer, & L. Tengelyi (Eds.), Investigating Subjectivity: Classical and New Perspectives (25–41). Leiden: Brill. Lyubomirsky, S. (2008). Th e How of Happiness: A Scientifi c Approach to Getting the Life You Want. New York: Penguin Books. MacIntyre, A. (2007). Aft er Virtue: A Study in Moral Th eory (3rd ed.). South Bend: University of Notre Dame Press. Marion, J.-L. (1989). Réduction et donation: Recherches sur Husserl, Heidegger et la phénoménologie. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Marion, J.-L. (1997). Étant donné : Essai d'une phénoménologie de la donation. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Marion, J.-L. (2001). De surcroît: Études sur les phénomènes saturés. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Melle, U. (1991). Th e Development of Husserl's Ethics. Études Phénoménologiques, 13–14, 115–135. Melle, U. (2002). From Reason to Love. In J. Drummond & L. Embree (Eds.), Phenomenological Approaches to Moral Philosophy: A Handbook (229–248). Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Melle, U. (2007). Husserl's Personalist Ethics. Husserl Studies, 23, 1–15. Mensch, J. (2003). Ethics and Selfh ood: Alterity and the Phenomenology of Obligation. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press. Obsieger, B. (2016). Husserls Frage: „Kann ich mein Leben leben, ohne dass ich es wollen kann?" In K.-H. Lembeck, K. Mertens, & E.-W. Orth (Eds.), Phänomenologische Forschungen 2015 (323–334). Hamburg: Felix Meiner. Peucker, H. (2007). Husserl's Critique of Kant's Ethics. Journal of the History of Philosophy, 45, 309–319. Peucker, H. (2008). From Logic to the Person: An Introduction to Edmund Husserl's Ethics. Th e Review of Metaphysics, 62, 307–325. Peucker, H. (2010). Aristotelische Elemente in der Ethik von Edmund Husserl. Philosophisches Jahrbuch, 117, 54–68. Peucker, H. (2011). Die ethischen Grundlagen von Husserls Philosophie. Journal Phänomenologie, 36, 10–20. Plato (2006). Th e Republic (R. E. Allen, Trans.). New Haven: Yale University Press. Pradelle, D. (2016). Critique phénoménologique de l'éthique kantienne. Meta: Research in Hermeneutics, Phenomenology, and Practical Philosophy, 8, 442–481. Rinofner-Kreidl, S. (2010). Husserl's Categorical Imperative and His Related Critique of Kant. In P. Vandevelde & S. Luft (Eds.). Epistemology, Archaeology, Ethics: Current Investigations of Husserl's Corpus (188–210). London: Continuum. Rinofner-Kreidl, S. (2017). Ethik. In S. Luft & M. Wehrle (Eds.), Husserl–Handbuch: Leben–Werk– Wirkung (184–196). Stuttgart: J. B. Metzler. 388 MARCO CAVALLARO, GEORGE HEFFERNAN Römer, I. (2011). Von der wertmaximierenden Leistungsmaschine zur vernünft igen liebenden Person: Subjektivität in Husserls Ethik. Journal Phänomenologie, 36, 21–35. Roth, A. (1960). Edmund Husserls ethische Untersuchungen: Dargestellt anhand seiner Vorlesungsmanuskripte. Th e Hague: Martinus Nijhoff . Schuhmann, K. (1977). Husserl-Chronik: Denkund Lebensweg Edmund Husserls. Th e Hague: Martinus Nijhoff . Schuhmann, K. (1991). Probleme der Husserlschen Wertlehre. Philosophisches Jahrbuch, 98, 106–113. Seligman, M. (2002). Authentic Happiness: Using the New Positive Psychology to Realize Your Potential for Lasting Fulfi llment. New York: Free Press. Staiti, A. (2013). A Grasp from afar: Überschau and the Givenness of Life in Husserlian Phenomenology. Continental Philosophy Review, 46, 21–36. Toulemont, R. (1962). L'essence de la société selon Husserl. Paris: Presses universitaires de France. Tullius, W. (2015). Renewal and Tradition: Phenomenology as "Faith Seeking Understanding" in the Work of Edmund Husserl. American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly, 89, 1–26. Tullius, W. (2017). On the Aristotelian Underpinnings of Husserl's Ethics of Vocation. Th e New Yearbook for Phenomenology and Phenomenological Philosophy, 15, 102–123. Ubiali, M. (2017). Aristotelian Echoes in Husserl's Ethics: Character, Decision, and Philosophy as the Highest Good. Th e New Yearbook for Phenomenology and Phenomenological Philosophy, 15, 84–101. Vaihinger, H. (1911). Die Philosophie des Als Ob: System der theoretischen, praktischen und religiösen Fiktionen der Menschheit auf Grund eines idealistischen Positivismus. Mit einem Anhang über Kant und Nietzsche. Berlin: Reuther & Reichard. Vitrano, C. (2008). Happiness and Morality. In S. Cahn & C. Vitrano (Eds.), Happiness: Classic and Contemporary Readings in Philosophy (267–272). New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press. Vitrano, C. (2009). Th e Happy Immoralist. In R. Talisse & M. Eckert (Eds.), A Teacher's Life: Essays for Steven M. Cahn (149–153). Lanham, Maryland: Lexington Books. Vitrano, C. (2014). Th e Nature and Value of Happiness. Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press. Wallace, R. J. (2013). Th e View from Here: On Affi rmation, Attachment, and the Limits of Regret. New York: Oxford University Press. Williams, B. (1985). Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. ADDENDA: UNPUBLISHED MANUSCRIPTS OF HUSSERL A V 5: Anthropologie, Psychologie mit Beilagen zu den Amsterdamer Vorlesungen. Menschliche Umwelt ("Lebenswelt")-Welt der Personen. Erfahrung und Praxis. Praktische Tradition, das "Gewohnheitsmässige"-Aufb au der Normalitäten (1927–1933). F I 24: Formale Ethik und Probleme der ethischen Vernunft (1909–1923). F I 28: Freiburger Vorlesungen zur Einleitung in die Ethik (1920–1924). F I 40: Wintersemester 1919/20. Vorlesungen über Einleitung in die Philosophie, systematisch [Der erste Stuck stammt aus den Vorlesungen über Einleitung 1916 u. 1918] (1916–1920).
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
/13 The Amoral Society 25 October 2016 Introduction In the early 1990s a new cultural narrative emerged. It started out in cult movies such as Léon and Nikita, made its way into blockbusters like Kill Bill and Sin City, and then spread to television, music, and even advertising. What distinguishes this narrative is that it centres around men being physically harmed and humiliated by women. As the narrative has evolved, the depiction of physical harm and humiliation has become increasingly celebratory and graphically detailed. Typically, it occurs through the following plot device: The villains are men with well-defined masculine traits, both physical and behavioural, often exaggerated for effect. The heroes are women with well-defined feminine traits. The men start out by harming the women, brutally and unjustifiably, after which the women regroup and set out to revenge themselves, ending with the men being beaten up and humiliated in graphic detail. The plot is typically supported by overt symbolism, alongside music and imagery intended to provoke intense emotional reactions, bordering on overstimulation. The most interesting thing, though, is not the narrative itself, but its producers and viewers. They are almost exclusively men. Why? Like any culture, contemporary Western culture repeats a small number of narratives over and over with slight variations: The physically unimpressive hero who defeats the powerful villain. The alliance of selfless heroes who collaborate to defeat the selfish villains. The aggressive and overconfident man who is eventually humbled. The victimised woman who overcomes. The businessman who ultimately is punished for his greed. There is a pattern to these narratives that extends beyond superficial gender-based attributes: a set of values that aligns almost exactly with gender. Research in psychology suggests that men typically have stronger tendencies toward individualism, competitiveness, confidence, and aggressiveness, while women typically have stronger tendencies toward altruism, collaboration, humility, and restraint. Yet, heroes are almost always altruistic, collaborative, humble, restrained, and physically unimposing, while villains are almost always individualistic, competitive, confident, aggressive, and physically imposing. Often the behaviour and attributes of the villains are exaggerated for effect: they are selfish, hypercompetitive, overconfident, and overaggressive, sometimes to the point of absurdity. The opposite never occurs: villains are never overly altruistic, overly collaborative, overly humble, or overly restrained. By studying these cultural narratives, we can derive our underlying moral belief system: Altruism is morally superior to individualism. Collaboration is morally superior to competition. Humility is morally superior to confidence. Restraint is morally superior to aggressiveness. Now, of course, we didn't invent this. It goes back at least to Judaism, perhaps best illustrated by the story of David and Goliath, which contains many of these elements. Yet, it seems we've drawn out this aspect of Judaeo-Christian morality while eliminating the rest. And so, as religion is disappearing from Western society these narratives have become the sole focus of our culture, making them more and more intense. Consequently, men have picked up on this, at least implicitly, and are realising that there is a connection between being a man and being immoral. They start to feel guilty not only for what they do, but for what they are, and this strengthens as they come into maturity and their tendencies develop. They recognise that their masculinity is at the centre of the conflict and that their guilt is tied to it, which explains the new cultural narrative: it is both an embrace and an amplification of the established cultural narratives. They identify with the male villains through their overtly masculine traits and project onto them as they are punished and humiliated, with the female characters serving as a device for maximal humiliation, the whole experience amplified through overt symbolism and intense emotional stimulation. When it's over, they can leave the theatre or turn off the television exhausted from overstimulation, but with a feeling of release. For all our notions of having left religion behind there is something strangely religious about this process. It is self-flagellation. This isn't the only noteworthy societal development. Something else has been going on for a while, in another area of society: government keeps growing. In fact, it has been growing so consistently and for so long that it invites the uncomfortable observation that we seem to be moving closer and closer to communism. Communism has already been tested in several societies, and the results were universally catastrophic. Millions of people died of starvation. Millions more were killed by the regimes for voicing opposing beliefs. Secret police and surveillance systems were set up to monitor people. People were forbidden from leaving and were shot for trying. So why are we seemingly moving in this direction? It's not just increased redistribution of resources, it's all aspects: Increased regulation. Increased surveillance. Increased limits on free speech. And while we're not there yet, it seems that we're seeing many of the outcomes of communism, just to a lesser degree, including economic stagnation and limits on personal freedoms. 2/13 The explanation is tied to the moral belief system we just uncovered. If altruism is morally superior to individualism, it follows that in a situation where one person has more resources than another, the morally correct behaviour is for that person to share the difference between them. And this will always be the case when one person has more than another. Since government is the enforcer of society's moral beliefs, this explains not only why government has grown, but why it consistently keeps growing: communism follows necessarily from the belief that altruism is morally superior to individualism. This also explains why many intellectuals were so enthusiastic about communism when it was first developed, and even after its failures started to present themselves. They intuitively felt that communism followed necessarily from their moral beliefs. Of course, intellectuals no longer talk about communism as an ideal, given its disastrous results. Instead, they have adopted an incremental approach, focusing on one issue at a time while refusing to discuss the long-term outlook. But since our underlying moral beliefs haven't changed we're still moving in that direction, we're just not talking about it anymore. This leads to a third strange issue in contemporary Western society: an apparent lack of scientific interest and progress on these issues. Millions of people have died because of communism. Where is the body of research examining what went wrong, asking why so many intellectuals were so convinced of its future success, questioning whether there is a core belief somewhere that is false? Where is the research examining why there has been a virtually unbroken growth in government over the past hundred years, and what happens if that development is extrapolated? Where is the body of research studying why so many young men are feeling alienated by Western society, not just a superficial acknowledgement but a study of the underlying causes? Where are the studies of the cultural narratives of contemporary society and how they tie into the promotion of specific moral beliefs? It's not just a lack of research on these issues. When someone does address them, typically someone from outside academia, the response from within academia is often vitriolic. A good illustration of this is Ayn Rand's persistently popular novel Atlas Shrugged. Whatever one thinks of the quality of the novel or the philosophical system it expounds, the fact that so many people, especially young men, find it so deeply moving should be a clue that there's something here worth studying. Yet responses by people who should be taking this phenomenon as an opportunity to study and learn, moral philosophers and psychologists, have almost exclusively been attempts to disprove it. And doing so without making any attempt to understand, or even acknowledge, the criticisms of contemporary morality that form the basis of this novel and which clearly is driving much of its appeal. What happened to the scientific ideal that one should always look to prove oneself wrong? It's no surprise that moral philosophy has made virtually no progress in the 150 years since it reached a dead end with Karl Marx. How could it, if moral philosophers are unwilling to question their core beliefs? It is sometimes asked why the social sciences don't make progress the way the physical sciences do. The answer is invariably that it's because the social sciences deal with much more complexity. I disagree. There's plenty of complexity in the physical sciences as well. The answer, I believe, is that progress in the social sciences is being blocked by moral beliefs. More precisely, the social sciences are pervaded by moral beliefs to an extent that not only disincentivises research into areas that potentially challenge them, but to an extent that prevents social scientists from even asking questions. There are four basic ways in which this takes place. Firstly, there's the way in which scientific authorities and organisations promote morality to the public. Common examples are: Popular scientific figures engaging in moral debates or writing moralising newspaper commentaries flaunting their scientific authority. Scientific organisations mixing morality into their practices, such as the Nobel Committee giving out their Peace Prize, essentially a morality award, in between science awards. Scientific conferences holding side-sessions promoting certain moral views. None of this makes the moral discussions or awards themselves scientific, but by utilising scientific figures and/or a scientific backdrop it gives the impression that they are. While this is intended to promote certain moral beliefs to the public, the side-effect is that it also creates the impression within science that these beliefs are more scientific than they are, especially since those figures and organisations carry a lot of weight among rank-and-file scientists. Secondly, there's the way in which scientific terminology and moral terminology overlap. For example, words like 'bias', 'discrimination' and 'equality', words which have distinct scientific meanings, have secondary moral meanings. This not only give moral judgements the illusion of being scientific, but also can lead to equivocation between the scientific and moral meanings, making it difficult to separate the science from the non-science. An extension of that is using scientific naming practice for moral terminology, as in words like 'xenophobia' and 'homophobia'. The 'phobia' suffix is normally used to denote mental illness, but these are purely moral judgements. Thirdly, there's the tendency among scientists and other intellectuals to selectively appeal to scientific facts and principles to support their moral beliefs. This creates a bias both inside and outside science. And 3/13 fourthly, there's the way in which peer-pressures and sensitive environments exist in areas that touch upon prevailing moral beliefs, steering scientific inquiry away from certain topics and thus biasing scientific output accordingly. For example, people will commonly applaud scientific research that sets out to support prevailing moral beliefs, even when it fails ('fighting the good fight'), yet only begrudgingly acknowledge research that sets out to disprove prevailing moral beliefs when it succeeds, and excoriate it when it fails. While sufficiently well-proven research can overcome almost any amount of resistance, as history shows, the reality is that science is difficult and often works through build-ups of vague hypotheses and incomplete observations. If the requirement for any scientist that challenges prevailing moral beliefs is perfectly documented research in order to avoid peer-condemnation and career-harm, there won't be a lot of scientists challenging prevailing moral beliefs. Good science requires a fertile environment where ideas can be advanced and built on gradually. And most students, of course, notice this before choosing their career path. Those students who already have strong beliefs in line with prevailing morality will be drawn toward the social sciences, not just in a quest for truth, but as a vehicle to promote their beliefs. Meanwhile those students who don't have these beliefs will recognise the social sciences as hostile and go into other fields, which leads to a vicious circle. All this is held together by a relatively small and tightly-knit group of influencers. Take the culture. On the surface, it appears quite diverse. The faces of the culture, singers and actors, come from a variety of different backgrounds, and it shows. But singers, especially very popular singers, usually do not write their own songs, and actors certainly do not write their own scripts. They are merely presenting what someone else has written. To understand who is driving the culture one must look to the people behind the scenes: writers, producers, directors, and executives. And what one finds here is a very homogenous group. Almost exclusively people who come from white, middleor upper-class homes, and who predominantly have graduated from a small set of upscale universities. This explains the remarkable degree of coordination that appears to exist in the culture. There is no deliberate co-ordination of the culture. Rather, it's the enactment of a belief system that is dominant in this segment of society. Because such a large portion of cultural influencers share it, they can build off each other's work without ever having to communicate. And because they effectively control the culture, they function as gatekeepers, ensuring that when people from other backgrounds want access to cultural influence, only those who share their beliefs are allowed in. The same applies to government. Politicians are quite diverse, but politicians are just the faces of a political apparatus. Many of those behind the scenes come from the same type of background as the cultural influencers. The same is true of academia, and while business has historically been in opposition to government, that has changed as technology companies have replaced old industrial companies. This means that business leaders also increasingly come from the same background as the other branches of society. Hence they share their moral beliefs and consequently offer less resistance to their agenda, including the expansion of government. This is illustrated by the fact that in recent US elections, the richest counties, a good proxy for business leaders, have mostly supported Obama. When held together, this explains why society is moving along its current path so smoothly. Society is increasingly led by a single, homogenous group of people, who are raised according to the same beliefs, go through the same universities where these beliefs are reinforced, and travel in the same groups where they are further reinforced. And the effect of the gatekeeper role they maintain is that there is almost no way for people to gain influence without sharing these beliefs. People have noticed this, and opposition is spreading. The Tea Party and Donald Trump's support are examples of it. People have recognised that the moralising in the culture is becoming more intense; that going to a movie or tuning into prime-time television increasingly feels like sitting in a sermon. They've realised that there's a systematic attempt to drive societal change through the culture, an attempt that seemingly has intensified. They've also noticed that government keeps growing and the power of the establishment keeps increasing. And finally, they've become increasingly sceptical of the mainstream media and of the scientific community, and for good reason. When someone opens the newspaper and sees an op-ed piece by a group of scientists, full of impenetrable scientific-sounding phrases, moralising on social issues and calling for new government programmes, and then on the next page sees an op-ed piece by another group of scientists, also full of impenetrable scientific-sounding phrases, warning about climate change and calling for government regulations, is it any wonder that that person is suspicious? How can you trust anything that the scientific community says when you can never know where the science ends and the morality begins? Especially when scientists themselves don't seem to know, or even care? To a large portion of the scientific community, science and the prevailing morality is just one big entangled ball of beliefs, making resistance to any part of it not just unscientific, nor just immoral, but both. And so, people are looking around and seeing society become increasingly immersed in guilt and finger-pointing and moral accusations, while government is ever-growing, promising to rectify it all. And seeing scientists, who claim to be 4/13 objective, at the forefront of a lot of it. And they are starting to wonder about this, starting to realise that there is something decidedly unsecular about all this, and starting to ask questions. I am convinced that if something doesn't change we are headed for disaster. There seem to be two possible scenarios: In the first scenario, we continue down our current path. The culture takes the final step in the direction it's been heading, as the moralising becomes full-blown propaganda. Government continues to grow, imposing limits on free speech and passing measures to punish opposition through the justice system, concealed under vague and ever-expanding moralistic terms like 'hate crimes'. In the social sciences, peer-pressure continues to mount until opposing views are no longer just regarded as false, but as immoral and harmful, while a growing sensitivity make certain topics uncomfortable to even discuss, let alone challenge. Business increasingly becomes an extension of government, partly due to the imposition of regulations and punitive measures, but even more so due to a shared belief system that drives them toward the same goals. The people in charge, an ever-tightening group with shared moral beliefs, refuse to discuss where society is headed and instead focus on incremental changes argued for in intense moral language. Until eventually, there's a tipping point. The branches of society have become so entwined that the people in charge decide it would be more efficient to run them together. And as society has started to collapse they can use that as an excuse. From here, we know what the result will be. As long as communism follows necessarily from the moral beliefs of the people in charge, this is where we will eventually end up, even if it's not deliberate. It's just a question of how we get there. In the second scenario, the resistance builds up and explodes, purging the current group of people from power as it becomes apparent that society is headed toward disaster. But then what? What fills the void left by prevailing morality? There seems to only be one possibility, religion. There are two basic forms this society could take: extreme or moderate. An extremely religious society would be able to block the move to communism, of course, as we see in some Middle Eastern countries, but at the cost of extreme religion, which makes for an even worse society than communism. A moderately religious society may be able to temporarily stop the trend, but if it's moderate that means allowing opposing views, including atheism. And herein lies the problem: the prevailing morality is simply more convincing than religious morality, once appeals to God no longer end an argument. Without appeals to God, the moralities must stand on their own. And here, prevailing morality outmanoeuvres religious morality. What has made prevailing morality so successful is that it takes a very simple message, that altruism is morally superior to individualism, and repeats it over and over from a multitude of different angles, using a variety of intellectual and emotional devices. Religious morality, by comparison, is incoherent. There are so many laws, so much interpretation, so many inconsistencies, so much disagreement, that's it's no match for prevailing morality. As soon as specific issues come into play, religious morality invariably loses the debate to prevailing morality. So even if society were to take a step backwards to a moderate version of religious morality, we would very quickly find ourselves back where we are now: headed down the path to scenario one. In fact, we saw a version of this in the 1980s, led by Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher, as a response to economic issues in both America and Europe. But as soon as those were met, we were back on the path. There's a reason religious morality has gradually faded over the past few hundred years. If it offered a better alternative to prevailing morality we would never have gotten here in the first place. There must be another way. Prevailing morality has us on course for disaster, but there is no going back to religion. We need to move forward, but how? The answer lies in a better understanding of morality. To understand morality, we need to go back. As far back as we can. Analysis As human society developed, our models of the world improved, a process that stretches back as far as we can trace. Early societies seem to have had animist models. In an animist model, natural objects have humanlike decision-making ability: Trees decide to shed their leaves. Clouds decide to rain. The sun decides to rise. Volcanoes decide to erupt. Buffalo decide where to roam. Then we started to develop polytheistic models. In a polytheistic model, natural objects are inanimate. Instead, they are controlled by category gods: The god of thunder controls the weather. The sea god controls the sea. The god of knowledge controls knowledge. Eventually, we moved to monotheistic models. In monotheism, everything is controlled by a single god, who sets the world in motion and intervenes on occasion, typically to cause large- 5/13 scale events like earthquakes. More recently, we have moved toward atheism. In atheism, there are no gods. Everything in the world is governed by natural laws. The reason for this process is knowledge. As we developed, we gradually discovered that natural objects follow predictable patterns: Trees shed their leaves seasonally. Clouds rain in accordance with the wind and other factors. The sun rises predictably by the time of year. This removes the need to posit decision-making. If objects always act in the same way, there are no decisions to be made, it just appears that way to the uninformed. So, the decision-making in our models moved upward over time, toward increasing generalisation, as we discovered predictability in the world from the bottom up. Eventually, this process was formalised in the 17th Century as science, and we soon thereafter achieved a set of general laws that seem to make everything in the world predictable, removing the need to posit decision-making anywhere. This wasn't an entirely linear process, though, nor was it driven only by intellectual progress. Human history is full of situations where beliefs were enforced by societies on other societies. Take the spread of Christianity through Europe, replacing various animistic and polytheistic beliefs. These societies didn't discover Christianity through an intellectual process, they had it presented to them by the Romans, in some cases even forced upon them. But why did the Romans choose Christianity as their religion over their previous polytheistic beliefs, and why did primitive European societies accept it? Why did a very similar transition occur with Islam in the Middle East? One only has to look at some of these earlier religions to realise it: Christianity (and Islam) offers a much more complete and consistent description of the world. Polytheistic religions are full of fragmented and barely plausible myths. Gods emerge from armpits of other gods. Gods are licked into existence by a giant cow. Christianity, in comparison, provides a reasonably consistent description of the world, without many of the obvious gaps that characterise these earlier religions. This makes it both easier to communicate and easier to accept. Convincing people to abandon Christianity in favour of a religion where gods grow out of armpits or are licked into existence by a giant cow would be a lot harder than the reverse, even when using force. The former transition conflicts with our aesthetic sensibility in a way that the latter doesn't. Morality followed the development of our models. It was assumed that, as part of their decision-making, natural objects set and enforced laws governing human behaviour. Volcanoes required humans to pay a tribute and would erupt if they didn't. Clouds required humans to dance and would only rain if they did. Buffalo required humans to hunt respectfully and only offered themselves up as food if they did. This meant, of course, that when we stopped assigning decisionmaking to these objects the morality also disappeared from them. If a volcano is believed to follow predictable natural patterns it makes no sense to pay it a tribute. So in polytheism, the category gods set and enforce morality in their respective domains. And in monotheism, God is the sole lawmaker and enforcer of morality. Ancient Jews, for example, believed that God required them to refrain from eating pork, and would punish them if they disobeyed. Consequently, morality became increasingly consolidated. For an animist, morality is highly fragmented, as there isn't necessarily alignment between the various lawmakers. The volcano doesn't co-ordinate with the cloud before making its requirements. Humans just try to do the best they can in a volatile and unpredictable world. This is still true in polytheism, albeit to a lesser extent. One can be reasonably certain of consistency in, say, the moral law in respect to volcanoes, earthquakes and rainclouds, since they are now set and enforced by the same category god, the nature god, but one can't be certain of consistency between, say, the nature god and the war god. They may simply make conflicting moral requirements of us, and we would have to try and navigate it as best we could. In fact, polytheistic myths are full of disagreements between the various category gods. This inconsistency disappears with monotheism. God now sets and enforces all the laws, and there is a belief that they are consistent, even if it doesn't always appear that way. However, during early monotheism the laws themselves are still highly fragmented and specific. Judaism has hundreds of very specific laws, covering everything from which foods to eat to how to behave during social interactions. And there is no real attempt to tie them together. It's just a long list of God's commands. So while there may be a belief in consistency, in practice there are inevitable conflicts. This leads to a problem. If two moral laws contradict they can't both be universal. But then what are they? It's easy to see how this would lead to a lot of angst among religious authorities in dealing with these conflicts as they arose. Naturally, as time passed, and especially as Christianity emerged, there was a gradual attempt to synthesise all these laws into a small number of moral principles. By late Christianity, this synthesis had started to settle on principles like 'love thy neighbour' and 'do unto others as you want done to you', with the actual laws in the Bible regarded as contingent. 6/13 And then with the success of science in the 17th and 18th Centuries there was another intellectual step: the attempt to separate morality from God. Which, of course, was made much easier now that morality was believed to consist of a small number of principles, rather than hundreds of commands. These God-independent moral principles were typically referred to as natural rights. The idea being that morality is a property of nature, rather than a set of commands, and therefore can be identified and described much like any natural object without appeal to God. When atheism caught on a century later, this idea was already widely accepted and it was simple for atheists to remove reference to God altogether. Now completely removed from God, secular morality moved even further toward synthesis, most clearly illustrated in the work of Jeremy Bentham, who suggested that morality was reducible to a single quantity: aggregate net pleasure. It also moved toward an increasingly broad definition of rights and justice, best exemplified by the work of Karl Marx. So, what's the problem? Well, where is morality? It's not just that we haven't found it yet, it's that it's unclear what we could possibly be referring to. Is it a special kind of subatomic particle that only humans contain, interacting with all our other particles? Maybe something that emerges when regular particles interact in specific ways? This doesn't seem to make much sense. Yet, it seems like we're referring to something. And not just to our personal opinions, but to something outside ourselves. If we weren't, we wouldn't get so worked up about moral arguments, it seems. What do we mean when we argue about right and wrong, or about injustice, or about rights? Let's take a step back in time to our animist society. Say they have the belief that overhunting is wrong, and that failure to comply will result in the buffalo refusing to offer themselves up for food. From a modern perspective, we would say this is silly. Why? Because we now have a natural explanation for it: if society overhunts, the buffalo become scarce. Most likely, they learned this the hard way. But they don't describe it in those terms, because they don't have our modern model of the world. They have a model where buffalo make humanlike decisions, and so they describe the situation accordingly. They may even have constructed narratives around this. Maybe they believe their witchdoctor was visited by the spirit of the head buffalo, who told him this. Let's move on to our early monotheist society. Say they have the belief that eating pork is forbidden by God, and that failure to comply will be punished by sickness or death. Again, from a modern perspective we would say this is silly. Why? Because we have a natural explanation: pigs carried germs during that time that could make humans very sick. But, of course, this society had no understanding of germs. They believed that God caused people to get sick when they disobeyed Him. So, naturally, when they saw people consistently getting sick from eating pork they inferred that these people were disobeying one of God's laws, and wrote it into the Bible. These examples suggest that when we make moral statements we are actually describing a natural phenomenon, but are doing so through our prevailing model. But we no longer believe in gods, so how does that apply to our current situation? Let's look at the terms that form typical moral statements: 'right' and 'wrong', 'justice', 'rights', 'blame', 'guilt'. These terms have something in common. They are courtroom terms. This explains our model: we are trying to describe some part of the world through the framework of a court. And what we're trying to describe we can also see when we look back at the evolution of morality: human behaviour and its relation to nature. Adding these two together gives us a definition of morality: morality is the attempt to describe human behaviour and its relation to nature through a court framework. This gives us a new perspective on what occurred during the naturalisation of morality in the 17 th to 19th Century: we removed the lawmaker, but preserved the court. Certain aspects have certainly changed from religious morality to secular morality. The notions of rights and justice have been emphasised and broadened, while the focus on particular laws has been diminished, but this doesn't change the overall fact that secular morality has carried over the court framework from religion. And from a scientific perspective, this won't do. It's not impossible to imagine an actual cosmic court governing human behaviour, even one without a lawmaker. The Vedic religions arguably have something like it. The problem is that the intellectual process that has led us to gradually replace our anthropomorphic models with more accurate scientific ones clearly requires us to replace the cosmic court in the same way we've replaced the cosmic lawmaker. Few, if any, secular moralists actually believe that a cosmic court exists, they are just acting as if it did through their moral beliefs. But if there is no cosmic court, what governs human behaviour and its relation to nature? There was no answer to that question when secular morality was being developed, but there is now: evolutionary theory. According to evolutionary theory, human behaviour has evolved to form a system whose most general function is species-survival, which it achieves 7/13 through adaption to its environment. Now that we know this, it's easy to see why the court framework (i.e., morality) has been an integral part of our beliefs for so long: it provides a good approximation of human behaviour and its relation to nature. Why? Because nature has a corrective function that makes it seem like a court. Ancient human societies presumably found themselves engaging in tribunal processes and then inferred that nature is just a larger version of it. It seems like the buffalo are punishing humans with starvation when they overhunt, or that God is punishing humans with illness when they eat pork. More broadly, it seems like nature is punishing humans with social disarray when they engage in killing, or stealing, or adultery. Add to that the fact that humans tend to feel bad when they engage in these activities, and it's easy to see why humans would adopt the belief of nature as a cosmic court that punishes law-breaches, laws that humans have built-in knowledge of through their 'moral intuition'. And this approximation works very well, which is why it has prevailed for so long. Evolutionary theory shows why it is only an approximation, though. Nature doesn't 'punish' us for law-breaches, we have evolved mechanisms that steer us away from behaviour that is detrimental to speciessurvival. And while it's a good approximation, morality breaks down when used beyond the context it was developed in. And the further it gets from that context, the more pronounced these breakdowns become. Which is good to know, because this is how intellectual progress works. By pushing our descriptions as far as we can, we see where they break down and then can figure out how to replace them with better ones. And the three problems we covered in the introduction do just that: they are situations that morality is unable to account for, but that are well-explained by functional descriptions informed by evolutionary theory. In that sense, they function as experiments that test the applicability of these two models. Let's take a look at each of them. First, the problem of male guilt and self-flagellation. What has essentially happened over the past half century is that, as secular morality has become the dominant belief system in certain segments of the population, we've run a social experiment. Children have been raised almost entirely in a bubble of secular morality. Their parents, their teachers, their friends, and their culture have almost exclusively instilled in them secular moral beliefs. And what has happened is noteworthy: widespread feelings of alienation, guilt, and self-flagellation among men raised in these environments, as evidenced in the culture. How does secular morality account for this phenomenon? Well, it seemingly is forced to say that men simply have more sinful tendencies than women, and that they are right to feel guilty about them. A moral framework doesn't allow for a more sophisticated account, all it allows for is a set of court-like laws and judgements of innocence or guilt, which is what we've just given. A functional description informed by evolutionary theory, on the other hand, not only explains why men and women have different tendencies, but also why those differences are a major reason humans exist today at all: men and women are functional specialisations that allowed humans, and many species before them, to function more effectively and thus better adapt to their environment. Because of this specialisation, men have stronger tendencies toward certain types of behaviour: individualism, competitiveness, risk-taking, and aggressiveness, while women have stronger tendencies toward altruism, collaboration, restraint, and passivity. It makes no sense to declare altruism morally superior to individualism, or vice versa. They were both functions that contributed to human survival. When we present it like this it makes secular morality look even more silly, for if altruism is morally superior to individualism, when did it become this way? If we say it was always the case, then we are led to the position of having to accept that not only did humans consistently act wrongly, but doing so is the reason we exist at all. If we say it became so at a point in time, say 2500 BC., then we not only have to posit something seemingly quite arbitrary, but we also must account for the fact that people, especially men, evolved deep-seated tendencies before it became wrong who now suddenly are acting wrongly. The problem goes away once we give up morality. There's no need to try to explain how a cosmic court changed its laws, the requirements for human behaviour are set by the environment, and change if the environment changes. Of course, the extent to which it has actually changed is the topic of our next problem. Second, the failures of communism. Communist societies can also be viewed as an experiment, a test of a certain belief system by implementing it wholeheartedly and then seeing what happens. And what happened was remarkable. Communist societies consistently experienced disastrous results, far too consistently to declare it an accident. The question is why. First, let's ask how secular morality accounts for what happened in communist societies. The most common beliefs before communism was implemented was that if it failed it would be due to at least one of two things: incompetent leadership or unmotivated workers. This belief persisted even after the reports of societal disarray in the Soviet Union began to emerge. There was such a strong belief in the 'beauty' of communism as a societal model that it was thought that the flaw must be in the implementation. Understandably so. There just doesn't seem to be any way for secular morality to account for the failures of communism. One could respond by saying that there are other factors that 8/13 drive a society's success beyond acting morally, but what does that mean? If there are things that take precedence over moral beliefs, then what are moral beliefs really? At best, this leads to a lot of contortions. Let's set aside our moral framework and try to explain this through a functional framework. An early explanation for the failures of communism came from Ludwig von Mises. He showed that the flaw was not in the implementation of communism, but in the model itself. He explained that communism could never work, regardless of how competent the leaders are and how motivated the workers are, because a communist society lacks something critical: information. Communism eliminates trade, since it removes private property and tells people where to work. But when people trade they aren't just trading products and labour, they're also trading information about their preferences, and when this no longer occurs there's no way for producers to know what to make, and so eventually you end up with a society where people's desires are unfulfilled and there's a spiral into misery. Clearly, there's a level of sophistication here that doesn't exist in a moral framework. But we can go further than Mises went. Instead of regarding people's preferences as our starting point, we can take a step further back. We can treat human society as a system and preferences as effects of environmental pressures. Humans have evolved behaviour that combines to form a system able to continuously address environmental pressures as they occur. Behavioural preferences are just what's visible. Eliminating trade shuts down the system, except for a few top-down pathways. This means that environmental pressures aren't addressed and therefore build up in the system until it collapses. We can compare human society to other systems, for example the human body. Imagine a group of doctors deciding to shut off the arteries in a human body and instead insert blood manually to each organ because they thought it was unjust that some organs received more blood than others. This would be disastrous. Why? Because the human body is a calibrated system of functions that have evolved to address environmental pressures as they occur, thus keeping the body healthy. The same applies to a human society. Trying to force it to conform to a court framework with a set of moral laws and measures of justice is ludicrous. Such a framework can't possibly describe the complexities of a human societal system in the way that a functional framework can. Third, the suppression of science. We can also treat the social sciences as an experiment. What would secular morality say about suppression of science by secular moral beliefs? Well, secular morality would have to say that that's impossible. After all, secular morality is implicitly based on the notion of a cosmic court, and it's difficult to imagine such a court having laws that conflict with the facts. So it's not even a consideration for social scientists that their moral beliefs are suppressing science. If you hold, say, that altruism is the highest virtue, and this is something you feel intensely, how could any facts possibly contradict it? And if you hold that no facts could possibly contradict your moral beliefs, you don't have to worry about suppressing science when you promote your moral beliefs and attack others for holding different ones. In your view, they are two different realms. Yet, clearly there is suppression of science going on in the social sciences, and this disproves the idea of secular morality and science being separate realms. A secular moral framework can't account for this. A functional framework, on the other hand, has no problem explaining it. From this perspective, moral beliefs are simply descriptions of the world, albeit imprecise ones. So, like any other description, they are subject to testing and potential falsification. And if attempts to do so are suppressed, then that is no different from any other scientific situation where challenges to a prevailing description are suppressed. Of course, once one recognises that a functional framework is better than a moral framework for describing the world, one would want to replace the moral framework altogether. But if one does have a situation where a set of moral beliefs are held above challenge, as has been the case in the social sciences, then it's easy to explain why this would lead to suppression of science, which is exactly what we see. The future We've seen that a group of influencers are trying to reshape society to fit their moral beliefs. We've also seen that morality in general is a simplistic framework for describing human behaviour and its relation to nature, and that it breaks down in important situations, illustrating how disastrous it would be if this continues. Given that human society seems to consistently move toward a better model of the world, I think it's a given that sooner or later morality will disappear, just as theism did. What will an amoral society look like, and how will the transition occur? We can look to the transition from Christianity to atheism as a guide, since many of the same issues apply to this transition. Let's look at how each of these three important areas of society will be affected: culture, government, and science. Moralising is a huge part of contemporary culture. Is an amoral culture even possible? Yes, I believe so. Once it becomes widely accepted that morality is a simplification, and the manipulation devices in the culture become more widely known, 9/13 there will be no going back. Just as Western culture was once full of theism and now isn't. There is already a counterculture building against the prevailing morality, aided by the growth in YouTube and other alternative media outlets, and it will continue to gain support as people feel alienated by the increased moralising of mainstream culture, I think. In practice, there will be two main changes: Firstly, a wider variety of narratives, rather than the same ones repeated over and over. Secondly, a move away from plot-justice and other moralising devices: designating characters as heroes and villains, assigning them particular attributes, rewarding or punishing them accordingly. Instead, narratives will be more descriptive, more about exploring people's situations, feelings, and motives without moral judgement. Plenty of cultural products claim to do so, but don't, mostly because most cultural influencers are blind to their own moral beliefs. What amoral narratives really look like will become more clear in the future, I think, as they start to emerge. This may seem unrealistic. After all, people today seek out narratives that reinforce their moral beliefs. Why would they start doing the opposite? For the same reason people used to seek out theistic narratives, but now increasingly don't. Once people stop believing in God, theistic narratives just seem anachronistic, even if they are emotionally appealing. Likewise, once people stop believing in morality, moralising narratives and devices will just seem anachronistic and manipulative, even to people who share the authors' goals. Morality has historically played a large role in the activities of government. Contemporary governments redistribute resources and make laws in accordance with prevailing moral beliefs, just as Christian governments used to enforce Christian beliefs. Is an amoral government even possible? It seems difficult to imagine morality being removed from government, but that could have been said about theism 300 years ago. Since then, Western societies have all implemented a separation of church and state. The lesson learned is that you don't have to have a population of atheists to remove theism from government. In fact, you don't need any atheists. All you need is a general understanding that theistic differences cannot be resolved through argument. The same applies to morality. Contemporary politics is immersed in moral arguments. Even people who disagree with the particular moral arguments of their opponents accept the premise that politics should be resolved through moral arguments, they just disagree on what they should be. To disturb this, all it takes is a few people challenging it. When someone says 'this is wrong' or 'that is an injustice' as part of a political argument, one can simply ask 'what do you mean by that?' or 'how do you propose we settle it?'. Even if one stops short of amoralism, it should be clear that moral arguments can't be settled any more than theistic arguments can, at least not without recasting them in functional terms. This leads to two options: either to make morality voluntary or to make the force explicit. I think both will occur to some extent. Government will get smaller, as some of its current activities will become voluntary, but there are some things, in my opinion, that cannot be made voluntary, due to the interconnected nature of human behaviour within a society. What will happen here is we'll move from morality-based argumentation to agreement-based argumentation, for example from 'this behaviour is morally right' to 'the majority agrees to do this'. This may seem like a subtle change, but it will have large consequences, I think, because it will force political debate to become about facts and negotiation, rather than about moralising and emotional manipulation. And it will also make it easier for people who disagree with the majority to go elsewhere without feeling that they're doing something wrong. It also means there is nothing special about a government anymore. It's no longer a moral enforcer, it's just an arbiter, and there's nothing in principle stopping other organisations from performing some or all its activities, if they can do them better. We already see a movement in this direction, in the form of libertarianism. Technically, libertarianism is a minimalist moral theory, not an amoral theory, but the idea is roughly the same: to combat the enforcement of morality through government. Academia has historically performed two functions: describing the world and rationalising prevailing belief systems. We can see this going back at least to Judaism. The Bible, for instance, is an attempt to fit together broad, religious beliefs with observations of the world. And both Judaism and Christianity have long traditions of religious debate, trying to fit their beliefs to the requirements of the world. In hindsight, we can see that these two processes are trying to do the same thing, describe the world, from two different angles: a top-down approach based on very broad beliefs, and a bottom-up approach based on observations. This is important to understand. We don't gradually fill out empty spaces in our description of the world as we gather observations. Rather, we overdescribe, filling out our model with very speculative beliefs, sometimes in contradiction with each other, and anchored to strong emotional attachment. But this is not clear at the time. In fact, Christians for a long time held to a belief that has later been labelled 'non-overlapping magisteria', the idea that some of our beliefs are beyond scientific treatment, even in principle, and therefore that religion and science address fundamentally different aspects of the world. What happened, though, was that as science progressed it increasingly intruded on what had traditionally been the domain of religion, until finally there was a realisation that they 10/13 were describing the same thing, and that science provided the better description. The transition also faced a lot of resistance. While in hindsight it seems that Christianity is essentially just a description of the world, people raised in a Christian environment were emotionally attached to their beliefs and resisted any attempt to challenge them, or even to treat them scientifically. Finally, the transition wasn't seamless. What characterised society after centuries of Christian dominance is that all aspects of it were immersed in Christianity: terminology, social practices, and institutions. This meant there was a long process of gradual removal. How does all this relate to our current situation? Well, it seems that the physical sciences have made a full transition from religion to science. There are no parts of the physical sciences where scientists have deep emotional attachment (beyond people's natural resistance to give up on theories they have invested a lot of time in), nor is there a belief that anything in principle is beyond scientific treatment. The situation in the social sciences is quite different, though. They are pervaded by a set of beliefs with deep emotional attachment and which are held to be beyond scientific treatment: moral beliefs. And we are seeing a gradual chipping away at these beliefs by science, most notably evolutionary biology, psychology, and economics. Eventually, if history is our guide, there will be an acceptance in the social sciences that they are describing the same thing, and that science is doing it better. Presumably, there will be much resistance, but eventually there will be a split into people who accept science and those who are unable to and withdraw from it, as we saw with Christianity in the split between philosophy/science and theology. Theologians effectively distinguish themselves from regular philosophers and scientists by positing theism as their premise to which everything else must fit. There is an analogue to that in secular morality, what is typically known as 'continental philosophy', a belief system that tends to hold that secular morality is fundamental and that science must conform to it. Most social scientists, however, do not explicitly acknowledge the distinction, wanting to have it both ways. Presumably, that will change, as it did with theology in the sciences two hundred years ago. Then all that is left is the gradual process of weeding out morality from the social sciences. Possible objections What if I'm wrong? Let's go through some possible objections. Objection #1: Amoralism is just a moral system in disguise, individualism. This is analogous to the objection that atheism is just another religion, which is false. The reason atheism is not just another religion is that it doesn't only remove belief in God, it replaces belief in God with something else: scientific description. There's a categorical difference between scientific description and belief in God, because scientific description is subject to empirical examination and is therefore part of a large and well-integrated body of empirical knowledge, which it must fit into. The same applies to amoralism. It doesn't replace one moral system with another, it replaces moral systems with scientific description. But because morality is a deeply-ingrained framework, we automatically assume that everyone else also must have such a framework, even if they claim not to; that it must just be hidden somewhere. It's the same phenomenon that leads some religious people to assume that atheists must have a god hidden somewhere that they're not talking about. It takes a mental leap to realise that one is perceiving the world through a framework and that that framework is not given. Which brings us to the second point, that from the perspective of a contemporary social scientist this probably looks like a particular type of morality, namely individualism. The social sciences are immersed in opaque terminology that has built up over time to insulate the underlying moral beliefs from challenge, and people are emotionally invested in keeping it this way. When someone proposes that morality reduces to patterns in the functional behaviour of individuals (and their relations to other natural objects), and therefore that individuals are a more accurate unit of analysis than groups, it's bound to be met with resistance. But that just shows how much prevailing moral beliefs conflict with actual science. Science's success over the past 400 years is largely due to a consistent attempt to explain phenomena by reducing them to collections of smaller and simpler processes. Chemists don't accuse physicists of 'individualism' when they suggest that chemical processes can be reduced to interactions between subatomic particles. A claim that morality, or any cultural phenomenon, cannot be reduced, in principle, to interactions between individuals (and other natural objects), goes against the entire scientific worldview that has built up over the past 400 years. Ultimately, theories are judged on their ability to make successful predictions, and if it's discovered that there are aspects of human behaviour that are beyond functional description (and thus prediction) then one would have to reject, or at least significantly modify, amoralism. But a very large body of scientific knowledge suggests that that is unlikely to be the case, in my opinion. 11/13 There is an important distinction between saying that morality reduces to descriptions of individuals and their interactions, and saying that people should strive toward individual goals, for example pleasure or wealth-accumulation. We can call the latter 'naïve individualism'. That is a moral theory, and it's not what I'm suggesting, of course. In the broad sense, people do seek to satisfy their desires, since they can't step out of their bodies, but those desires include altruistic and collaborative behaviour. There's no reason to suggest otherwise. Objection #2: We don't have to give up morality entirely, we can preserve a more moderate version that is bounded by practical and scientific facts as they become known. This is analogous to the theistic argument of not giving up God entirely, but just gradually removing Him from our descriptions to fit scientific discoveries. This process, as discussed earlier, is one that has been going on for thousands of years. At some point, though, we realised that we were just using gods to fill gaps in our knowledge, and adopted a framework where there are no gods, just functional descriptions with gaps where necessary. There is no reason to continue that process with morality, as science gradually chips away at it. We can already recognise that it's just an approximate framework and replace it with the correct framework, thus improving the scientific process and avoiding any more social disasters. Objection #3: Without morality, people won't care about anyone but themselves and society will collapse into a dog-eatdog world. This assumes a very naïve view of human behaviour, in my opinion. It's a carryover from religious morality, which essentially splits human desires into two categories: cardinal desires and spiritual desires. Cardinal desires need no encouragement, humans are automatically drawn to them, and they are therefore morally neutral or sinful. Spiritual desires need encouragement, either through the promise of an afterlife or through being recognised as a 'good person', and they are therefore virtuous. The actual categorisation of desires as cardinal or spiritual almost perfectly follows gender lines, as we've seen earlier. It made sense in ancient times where men were the main decision-makers in society and religion was written mainly for them, especially if there was a tendency in those societies for men with extreme masculine traits to dominate society (i.e., warlord societies). In those societies, a moral system that restrained masculine traits and encouraged feminine traits would serve as a good balance to prevent things from getting out of control, even if it wasn't deliberately designed as such. That moral split has carried over to secular morality, but it doesn't make sense in modern times. For most men, and even more so for women, the idea that individualism, competitiveness, and aggression are built-in desires, while altruism, collaboration, and restraint need to be encouraged, is simply not true. They are all built-in desires that have evolved over time, although they are distributed unevenly. There's no reason to think that people will stop being altruistic, collaborative, and restrained once they accept the idea that there is no cosmic court. People who feel empathy when they see a homeless person aren't going to stop doing so because they no longer believe in a cosmic court. What it will do is prevent people from suppressing their desires because they think they're violating a cosmic law. Objection #4: Without morality, everything is permissible and society will collapse into nihilistic lethargy. The assumption here is that we make judgements by checking a given situation against a set of moral laws, and if there are no moral laws to check against, we can never make judgements and therefore everything is 'permissible'. But this is nonsense. We do have to give up the idea of making moral judgements, since we have to give up the idea of moral laws, but we make judgements all the time that have nothing to do with morality. What I am arguing against is the belief, inherited from religion, that a subset of human desires and behaviour have a special status, namely that they are 'moral', i.e., regulated by a set of cosmic laws. All our desires and behaviour have evolved as biological mechanisms, and there is no need for a categorisation into 'moral' and 'non-moral'. Giving up morality doesn't mean giving up judgement, it means giving up the interpretation of judgment as something that must be in accordance with a set of moral laws. Consequently, the actual judgement becomes clearer. It means going from a judgement like 'that person is morally wrong' to 'my desires differ from that person's desires, and I should act accordingly'. In other words, judgement becomes more factual and action-oriented, as opposed to vague and emotionally-oriented. Or more accurately, the emotions are made explicit in the first case, whereas in the second case they are entangled in the judgement. Objection #5: People need morality for their lives to have meaning. 12/13 The assumption here is that people need to have a purpose in their lives, and that that purpose should be to be a good person. Without that purpose, the idea goes, it doesn't matter what you do, because you have nothing to work toward. That is a teleological view of human behaviour, and it doesn't match how people behave, in my opinion. People are driven by biological mechanisms. Part of that is using reason to process information and set goals, but reason itself cannot set goals. This is where morality comes in. It gives us the impression that there is some outside purpose that we can use as a starting point and then work our way down to particular behaviour, but it's really the other way around: we generalise our particular emotions and behaviour into moral laws. Once one accepts this, the replacement of morality with a functional description is not a problem. It's simply a better generalisation. Objection #6: Amoralism is just WRONG! There's no question many people feel very strongly about their moral beliefs. Those emotions exist. The purpose of amoralism is not to deny or try to remove them, it's to change the interpretation of them. What I have proposed in this paper is that morality is a simplifying framework for describing functional patterns in human behaviour, including our emotions, and their relation to nature. This doesn't say anything about the emotions themselves. Does an emotion, say empathy, becomes less powerful if one interprets it as a biological response rather than as an intuitive recognition of a cosmic, moral law? I don't think it does. What amoralism changes is not so much how we feel about certain situations, but how we think about how other people feel about those situations. When there is no cosmic law to refer to we can no longer say that other people are wrong for feeling differently. We can provide them with information to make them realise that it's in their interest to act a certain way, or in some cases force them to do so, but if they don't have a certain emotion then they don't have that emotion. Objection #7: Amoralism is elitist, therefore it's wrong. I don't accept the term 'elitist'. It has a negative connotation, which means that it's a conflation of a description and a moral judgement, and I don't accept the moral judgement. It's based on the implicit belief that it's wrong for some people to have more power or resources than others, but this is a belief that is not in accord with reality. Society requires an uneven distribution of power and resources to be dynamic and thus be able to respond effectively to environmental pressures. The environment sets certain requirements, and some people have abilities that meet those requirements better than others. A fit society is one that is able to shift power and resources to those people, thus amplifying their abilities. Objection #8: You can't reject a belief system that was instrumental in the abolishment of slavery and in women's rights. There's no question that secular morality was instrumental in the abolishment of slavery and in women's rights. Throughout much of human history the belief was that various groups of people were fundamentally different: men and women, aristocrats and farmers, Europeans and Asians and Africans and native Americans. It seemed that way because they are different on the outside. Men and women are physically different. People of different ethnicities have different skin colour and other physical traits. Aristocrats and farmers talk and act and dress differently. So it seems like they really are categorically different. Secular morality challenged this. First by challenging the distinction between aristocrats and farmers, eventually leading to a breakdown of the class structure that had been prevalent in Europe through the middle ages. Then by challenging the distinction between ethnicities, eventually leading to the abolishment of slavery. And then finally by challenging the distinction between men and women, eventually leading to women's rights. Roughly speaking, one could say that secular morality made a claim that humans were more equal than they appeared, and that this was proven when they were given the chance to prove it. This is a big part of why secular morality became so popular. There's no reason to deny any of this. The point is that it's irrelevant. Just as it's irrelevant that Christianity helped end human sacrifice and tribal warfare. As science progresses, we develop better descriptions of the world, which in turn allows us to deal with it better. Those two things go together. Therefore, secular morality will be replaced by amoralism, I believe. Objection #9: Science proves that freewill is an illusion, and therefore inequality is unjust. It's a common assumption across the political spectrum that (lack of) freewill and altruism are tied together. The idea is that if people don't have freewill, they aren't responsible for their wealth and therefore don't deserve to have more of it than anyone else. It's an idea that is widely alluded to in the social sciences, often under the guise of derivative theories, but is rarely stated directly. Perhaps the best example of this is the work of John Rawls. In my opinion, this issue is a prime example of how social scientists selectively take observations and theories that support their moral beliefs and then 13/13 present them as science, rather than conduct an unbiased search for truth. Let's examine the issue, going directly at its core rather than at derivative theories. The argument goes like this: (1) It is unjust if people are punished or rewarded for something they weren't responsible for. (2) Having more resources than someone else is a form of reward, and having fewer is a form of punishment. (3) Being responsible for something requires acting freely. (4) Science proves that people don't act freely. (5) Therefore, no one is ever responsible for anything. (6) Therefore, it is unjust for anyone to be punished or rewarded for anything. (7) Therefore, it is unjust for anyone to have more resources than anyone else. When we write the argument out like this we see that something is not quite right. If it's unjust for anyone to be punished for anything, do we want to shut down all our jails? Of course not, that would lead to chaos. The issue here is that humans have historically interpreted the world through a moral framework, where concepts like freewill, responsibility, blame, guilt, and justice are tightly connected, so removing one of them warps the entire framework. If you just declare freewill an illusion and remove it from the framework, everything else falls apart, and the framework is unable to describe anything. Removing the concept of freewill without addressing the concept of justice serves only one purpose: activism. It provides a tool for people who want to remove resource inequalities under the guise of science. Now, science is hard, and you can't expect people to solve problems immediately, but the extent to which this issue hasn't even been challenged in the social sciences is a consequence of their bias, in my opinion. What is the answer? Once we accept that morality is an interpretation of underlying, functional behaviour, the problem goes away. 'Justice' is a term we use to describe behavioural patterns that humans have evolved to correct behaviour detrimental to societal well-being. 'Freewill' is a term we use to describe corrective accuracy, i.e., the extent to which we can narrow down our correction to particular causes or have to treat someone as a black box. These terms work well in everyday situations, but break down when we take them beyond that, for example into political philosophy. In these instances, we need to replace morality with a functional framework. The worst mistake we can make is to half-unravel morality by removing freewill but leaving justice unaddressed. Trying to implement something like that would lead to collapse. So no, accepting that freewill is an illusion, which science seems to suggest, should not lead to removal of resource inequalities. On the contrary, a functional framework without freewill allows for a better understanding of why resource inequalities do exist. Objection #10: Naturalism is false, and therefore so is amoralism. Amoralism, as I've presented it in this paper, relies on two main claims: 1) that the world consists entirely of many small, simple processes, which combine to form complex processes, with the combination process itself explained by evolutionary theory, and 2) that morality is a simplistic attempt to describe some of this by use of a court analogy. The first claim, naturalism, is not particular to this paper; it's a widely-held belief based on hundreds of years of systematic scientific discovery. The second claim is particular, so I've devoted most of this paper to explaining it. But what if the first claim is false? It's certainly possible. There are some strangely difficult philosophical and scientific problems that, in my opinion, should at least give one pause before declaring naturalism true, despite the abundance of scientific evidence. And if naturalism is false maybe there really is a cosmic court. The problem, though, is that not only does one have to show that naturalism is false, one also has to explain the two phenomena covered in this paper: male alienation and the failures of communism. If there is some cosmic law dictating that altruism is the highest virtue, why do we see the two aforementioned phenomena? They seem to be so much easier explained through a simple functional framework: individualism, competitiveness and other related behaviour are necessary functions for a robust and dynamic society; that has been true throughout human evolution and is still true today. Why would a cosmic court dictate laws that are so much in conflict with how nature works?
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Belgrade Philosophical Annual 31 2018 doi: 10.5937/BPA1831115S Sanja Srećković Original Scientific Paper Institute of Philosophy, UDK 81'23:165 University of Belgrade 159.955.6.072:165 REASONING OF NON AND PRELINGUISTIC CREATURES: HOW MUCH DO THE EXPERIMENTS TELL US?1 Abstract. If a conclusion was reached that creatures without a language capability exhibit some form of a capability for logic, this would shed a new light on the relationship between logic, language, and thought. Recent experimental attempts to test whether some animals, as well as pre-linguistic human infants, are capable of exclusionary reasoning are taken to support exactly that conclusion. The paper discusses the analyses and conclusions of two such studies: Call's (2004) two cups task, and Mody and Carey's (2016) four cups task. My paper exposes hidden assumptions within these analyses, which enable the authors to settle on the explanation which assigns logical capabilities to the participants of the studies, as opposed to the explanations which do not. The paper then demonstrates that the competing explanations of the experimental results are theoretically underdeveloped, rendering them unclear in their predictions concerning the behavior of cognitive subjects, and thus difficult to distinguish by use of experiments. Additionally, it is questioned whether the explanations are rivals at all, i.e. whether they compete to explain the cognitive processes of the same level. The contribution of the paper is conceptual. Its aim is to clear up the concepts involved in these analyses, in order to avoid oversimplified or premature conclusions about the cognitive abilities of preand non-linguistic creatures. It is also meant to show that the theoretical space surrounding the issues involved might be much more diverse and unknown than many of these studies imply. Keywords: cognitive processes, deduction, probabilistic reasoning, animal cognition, infant cognition Introduction Theories in cognitive science and philosophy of mind strive to fit the results of experimental psychology. However, the results themselves typically do not hand us conclusive answers, so they have to be analyzed, and the analysis is in turn subject to theoretical assessment. In this paper I examine the assumptions behind the analysis of certain experimental results concerning the possible reasoning mechanisms of nonand pre-linguistic creatures. 1 The work on this paper has been supported by the Ministry of Education, Science and Technological Development of the Republic of Serbia through the project Logicoepistemological bases of science and metaphysics (No. 179067). I am also very grateful to Jacob Beck for reading the drafts of the paper and making useful comments about it. 116 Sanja Srećković Certain behavior is consistent with a capability for reasoning from an excluded alternative: the recognition that if there are only two possibilities and it is not one of them, it must be the other. Recently, there have been attempts to experimentally test whether some animals, as well as pre-linguistic human infants, are capable of this kind of reasoning. I focus on the analysis of two studies which test the reasoning abilities of these creatures by setting up a task that needs to be solved. Call's (2004) two cups task tested whether great apes are capable of reasoning by exclusion, and since the apes proved to be successful at the task, the other study – Mody and Carey's (2016) four cups task – proposed a way to determine the mechanism responsible for that kind of reasoning.2 I will demonstrate that there is a mistaken assumption in the analysis of the latter study, and that we cannot decide among the competing explanations based on the strategy proposed by the authors. I will further show that the two main competing explanations cannot be clearly distinguished from each other, because their assumptions, requirements, and implications are not sufficiently defined. As a consequence, the experiments conducted so far, as well as future attempts to decide between them using experimental research, might be misguided. Reasoning by exclusion and possible underlying mechanisms In Call's task, the subjects see the experimenter hiding the reward in one of two cups, not knowing which one. They then receive evidence that one cup is empty. If they reason by exclusion, they should use the information about the empty cup to exclude that location, and instead select the other cup. The subjects proved successful at this task (the rate of correct choices was significantly above chance), and their success can be interpreted and explained by several accounts. The term "reasoning by exclusion" does not make commitments as to the particular reasoning mechanism being used (Mody & Carey, 2016). The results of this task were taken by many commenters to indicate that the animals manifest a capability for reasoning by the disjunctive syllogism. The subjects supposedly reasoned: The food is either in A or B. It is not in A. Therefore it is in B. This interpretation imposes the highest cognitive requirements: it requires the subjects to be representing the concepts OR and NOT as well as the dependent relationship between A and B (embodied 2 The reader will notice that the two studies are done with different subjects (the latter study was done with human children). Moreover, the older children that were successful in the latter experiment clearly do not fall into the group of pre-linguistic creatures. Although this would make a difference for the plausibility of the thesis that is being tested, I, however, do not take this difference to be significant for my analysis, since I am interested in the methodology of these experiments, rather than in the results themselves. I focus on the difficulty of interpreting the behavioral data, regardless of the particular subjects and results of the study. Reasoning of Nonand Pre-Linguistic Creatures 117 by the concept OR). The dependent relationship is what leads the subjects to update their representation of B when they see that A is empty, and to conclude that B necessarily contains the reward. Updating of B based on the information about A is referred to in the literature as 'inferential updating (Mody & Carey, 2016). Another interpretation is named "Maybe A, maybe B". The subjects initially believe that the reward might be in A, and also that it might be in B. The two possible hiding locations are regarded independently: gaining the information about A does not lead to inferential updating which would form a new appraisal of B. Thus, when they see that A is empty, they do not search in A anymore, and they proceed to B according to their initial premise that it might contain the reward (Mody & Carey, 2016). The results can also be explained with even fewer cognitive demands. According to the "Avoid empty" interpretation, the animals have no particular beliefs about whether B contains the reward. They are merely not searching in A. When they see that A is empty, they avoid searching in it, and instead approach B merely because it is the other salient hiding location available. This does not even require representing the alternatives A and B as potential locations of the reward, so there is also no inferential updating (Mody & Carey, 2016). Rescorla (2009) proposed another possible mechanism underlying exclusionary reasoning: probabilistic inference over the space of cognitive maps. Rescorla defines cognitive maps as mental representations that represent geometric features of the physical environment. Their most important feature is not having logical form. This allows them to be realized without the subject's capability for logic. The key part of Rescorla's analysis is the Bayesian decision theory, which gives calculations for the distribution of probabilities over cognitive maps. Probabilities assigned to cognitive maps can be understood as degrees of belief assigned to different hypotheses. The subjects recognize two possible locations of the hidden reward, represented by two cognitive maps (M1, M2). The maps correspond to two hypotheses concerning which cup has the reward in it. The subjects initially lack evidence regarding where the reward is hidden, so the initial probability distribution treats cups the same: p(M1) = p(M2) = 0.5 Since they exhaust the space of possibilities, their probabilities sum up to 1. Also, for each cup there are two possible outcomes: yi – the cup has food in it, and ni – the cup is empty, and their probabilities also sum up to 1: p(yi) + p(ni) = 1. Assuming Mi is true, the probability that the subjects will recognize that the reward is in the cup is taken to be p(yi|Mi) = 0.8, since the account allows the small possibility of the subject not seeing the reward even if it is looking in the right cup. 118 Sanja Srećković Since p(yi)+p(ni)=1, it follows that the chance of false negatives is p(ni|Mi)= 0.2 There is also a slight chance of false positives, say, p(yi|Mj)=0.1, which makes the chance of a correct observation that the cup is empty p(ni|Mj)=0.9. When the subject is presented with the evidence that the first cup is empty, the probabilities are updated over the cognitive maps using Bayes' Law: p(M1|n1) = 0.182 p(M2|n1) = 0.818 The initial probability of 0.5 is lowered for M1 to 0.182, while M2 is updated to 0.818, by the process of inferential updating (since the two cups are represented as being in a disjunctive relationship). Thus, the subject reaches a conclusion that it is more probable that the reward is in cup B than that it is in A. All four interpretations can explain the experimental results, because using any of these approaches would lead subjects to be successful in the task. Subsequent experiments were designed to distinguish between these interpretations. I focus on Mody and Carey's (2016) study, which tested for behavioral evidence of inferential updating. This should then distinguish between the deductive and probabilistic interpretations on one side, and the remaining two interpretations which predict no inferential updating on the other side. Distinguishing between the interpretations The following experiment was conceived as an extended version of Call's task. Two rewards (in this study the rewards were stickers) were hidden in four cups, one reward in each of two pairs. The first pair of cups was covered by a screen so that the subject could not see which of the cups the reward was placed in, and then the same was done with the second pair. The participants were children from 2.5 to 5 years old, divided into four groups by their age. When one of the cups was revealed to be empty, the child was supposed to pick the other cup from the pair, which is certain to contain a reward. If children were using the deductive syllogism, they would engage in inferential updating, meaning that the information about the empty cup (not-A), in combination with the representation of where the sticker was hidden (A or B), would lead them to conclude that the other cup from the pair necessarily contained the sticker (therefore B). This interpretation predicts children will choose the "target cup" (B). If they were using the "Maybe A, maybe B" strategy, obtaining the information "not-A" would not lead to updating information about B. The children would still hold on to "Maybe B", and all the remaining cups would seem to be equally good candidates. Thus, the children would choose the target cup at an equal rate as the other two cups. Reasoning of Nonand Pre-Linguistic Creatures 119 According to the "Avoid empty" strategy, learning "not-A" would lead to avoiding A, but without representations about other possible locations. Thus, the subjects would also be expected to choose all three remaining cups at an equal rate (Mody & Carey, 2016). Mody and Carey seem to take the probabilistic account to predict that the children will pick the target cup preferentially to the other cups (due to inferential updating). Still, they seem to take probabilistic reasoning as somewhat "less certain" than deductive reasoning. Thus, the probabilistic interpretation might predict preferential choosing of the target cup, but at a somewhat lower rate than in the deductive scenario. I will address this in more detail in the following section. Prior to the main task, there was a training phase, which involved only three cups: one pair of cups and one single cup, hidden behind two screens. The procedure of hiding the rewards was the same: the first reward was placed in the single cup, and the second reward was placed in one of the cups from a pair. After removing the screen, the child was asked to choose a cup. This task did not require reasoning by exclusion, but it still required comparing the sure cup to the two uncertain cups. Results and analysis In the training trials chance was established at 33%, since there were three cups to choose among. The children chose the target cup at rates significantly above chance. In the test trials, since the children virtually never chose the empty cup, it was taken that three cups were the remaining options, and chance was also set at 33%. The results were very similar to the training phase. All groups except for the youngest chose the target cup significantly above chance, suggesting that they engaged in inferential updating. The youngest children chose the target cup in only 36% of the cases, not significantly above chance. They behaved in a manner predicted by the "Maybe A, maybe B", and "Avoid empty" interpretations. The rates of choosing the correct cup in both phases of the experiment are given in the table. Training trials Test trials Age group Success rate Age group Success rate 2.5 47% 2.5 36% 3 60% 3 58% 4 71% 4 64% 5 72% 5 76% These results indicate that, except for 2.5-year-olds, the children chose the target cup preferentially, and thus behaved in a manner consistent with inferential updating. This allows accepting only the probabilistic and deductive interpretations as possible, while dismissing the others. We can sum up the main issue as follows. 120 Sanja Srećković In the training trials, an observation that cup A is full leads to representing cup A as sure and cups B and C as unsure, which leads to reaching for cup A. In the test trials, an observation that cup A is empty leads to representing cup A as sure (empty), cups C and D as unsure, and leads to updating the representation of cup B from unsure to sure (full), and reaching for it. The two possible interpretations of the results aim to answer the question: What is the cognitive process that leads to updating of cup B from "unsure" to "sure (full)"? According to the probabilistic interpretation, the subjects engage in Bayesian redistribution of coupled probabilities (synchronously lowering the probability of cup A and rising the probability of cup B), while representing cups C and D as independent probabilities and as remaining unsure. According to the deductive interpretation, the subjects engage in a logical inference: "The reward is either in A or B. It is not in A. Therefore it is in B". Cups C and D are not included in the inference, since they are represented as independent from A and B. Mody and Carey go further to claim that the deductive interpretation is more plausible. Their strategy was to additionally formulate the difference between these two cognitive processes in terms of certainty: deductive reasoning would lead to a choice based on absolute certainty that the reward is in cup B, while the probabilistic one would lead to a choice based on increased certainty (the subjects are only more certain that the reward is in B than that it is in any of the other cups). They then propose a way of distinguishing between these two mechanisms, claiming that one feature of the gathered data indicates absolute certainty behind the children's choice. Namely, the children chose the target cup just as often in test trials as in training trials – in which they could directly observe (and thus be absolutely certain about) where the sticker was hidden. These results suggest that children were absolutely certain in the test trials, too. In other words, since the rate of choosing the correct cup was the same in the trials which required reasoning as in the trials which did not, their reasoning was interpreted as absolutely certain, and therefore, deductive: Our design did not allow us to distinguish between a choice based on absolute certainty and one based on increased certainty. The latter would still require that children represented the dependent relationship between the two locations, and that they inferentially updated their assessment (...); however, the inference children made would not be truly deductive. This possibility was put forth by Rescorla (2009), who described it in a Bayesian framework, where the probability associated with one possibility is adjusted up as the probability of another possibility goes down. However, one feature of our data suggests that children were making a deductive inference: 3to 5-year-old children chose the target cup just as often in test trials as they did in training trials, in which they could directly observe that a sticker was being hidden there (Mody & Carey, 2016, p. 46). Reasoning of Nonand Pre-Linguistic Creatures 121 I will proceed to criticize Mody and Carey's characterization of the two reasoning mechanisms by different degrees of certainty. I will first demonstrate that this characterization is false, and then I will show that probabilistic updating of coupled probabilities cannot be distinguished from explicit inferences (for now), and that these two cognitive processes may even be only variants of each other, instead of being independent strategies. Analysis of the analysis Mody and Carey make a mistake of confounding two possible applications of the property of certainty. One is the certainty that defines deduction, and applies to the transition from the premises to the conclusion: in a valid deductive argument, the truth of the premises guarantees the truth of the conclusion. Thus, the subject can be certain that if the premises are true, the conclusion must also be true. But this does not tell us how certain the subject was in either of the premises, nor of the conclusion. The latter type of certainty applies to the propositions themselves, and it can have various degrees. The rules of "probability preservation", or "uncertainty propagation" are defined within propositional probability logics. The main idea is that the premises of a valid argument can be uncertain, in which case the conclusion will also be uncertain (Demey et al., 2017). Therefore, the deductive account does not necessarily predict children will be absolutely certain that the reward is in cup B. It needs to additionally postulate that they are absolutely certain of the premises. This type of certainty is what is of interest for the experiment, because the degree of certainty about the final conclusion is what affects the subjects' behavior, and thus the percentages that Mody and Carey appeal to. Let us see how this type of certainty is accommodated within the two accounts. In the probabilistic account, the distribution of degrees of certainty is determined mathematically, according to the Bayes' Law. We saw in Rescorla's account that it allows the possibility of subjects making both false negative, and false positive judgements, due to their fallibility. This is reflected in not assigning absolute certainty to even the seemingly obvious observations, such as "A is empty." Thus, the "premise" ("Reward is in A") gains a probability slightly higher than 0. This, in turn, renders the probability of the conclusion "Reward is in B" as slightly less than 1. The probabilities assigned to cups C and D should be equal, and the same as in the initial distribution (0.5). Therefore, if the subjects reasoned probabilistically, they would indeed make a choice based on "increased certainty" of B over other options, just as Mody and Carey suggest. In the deductive account, however, degrees of certainty have not been mentioned. The experimenters expect absolute certainty by default, and the percentages of failure of subjects to perform the task (which were at least 30% of choices, as we saw in the table) are explained by appealing to "noise" 122 Sanja Srećković or "performance issues", such as limitations of attention, working memory, or other factors. (Mody & Carey, 2016, pp. 46–7). So far, it seems that the probabilistic account has a better formal apparatus for dealing with the degrees of certainty. Still, there are probably several ways in which they could be incorporated in the deductive account as well. One way would be to assign probabilities to the propositions, like it is done in the probabilistic semantics. We can have a probability function for the propositional language L, and the valuations v: L→{0,1} of classical propositional logic can be replaced with probability functions P: L→ R, which take values in the real unit interval [0,1]. The classical truth values of true (1) and false (0) can thus be regarded as the endpoints of the unit interval [0,1]. This would mean taking classical logic as a special case of probability logic, or equivalently, taking probability logic as an extension of classical logic (Demey et al., 2017). Applying this to the cups task, we can formally express the subject's deductive reasoning as follows: P(A ∨ B)=1 P(¬A)=0.9 Therefore, P(B)=0.93 In cognitive terms, the probabilities could be defined within a metacognitive level, without being explicitly represented by the subject. Thus, even though the subjects reason through a logical inference, each step in the inference (e.g. ¬A) may be accompanied by a degree of subject's certainty about the step. However, it is difficult to specify how the probabilities of two or more premises are to be combined. Some advocates of this kind of extension of classical logic propose a rule that "a p-valid inference cannot take us from low uncertainty in the premises to high uncertainty in the conclusion". They define the uncertainty of a proposition p as one minus its probability, 1-P(p). Then an inference with two or more premises is p-valid if and only if the uncertainty of its conclusion is not greater than the sum of the uncertainties of its premises for all coherent probability assignments (Evans et al., 2015). This version of the deductive account needs to be further theoretically developed. Nevertheless, the outline shows a way to implement different degrees of certainty into the deductive account. In application to Mody and Carey's results, even though it was shown that there are two separate applications of certainty, that still does not prove that they were wrong in assigning absolute certainty to subjects reasoning deductively. Indeed, we do not know how certain the subjects were of any of their propositions. Difference between the competing accounts This brings me to the final point of this paper. What is the difference between the deductive and probabilistic accounts? How can we behaviorally 3 The numerical values of probabilities are just an example. Reasoning of Nonand Pre-Linguistic Creatures 123 distinguish which of these two reasoning mechanisms the subject is using? I claim that the two accounts are not sufficiently developed, and not clear in their theoretical requirements. This renders them unclear in their predictions concerning the behavior of cognitive subjects, and thus difficult to distinguish by use of experiments. I will show this by presenting several possible candidates by which these accounts might be differentiated. Degrees of certainty As I demonstrated, since probabilities (and thus the degrees of certainty) can be accommodated within the deductive account, it is unclear whether the accounts differ in the degrees of certainty assigned to the conclusion. Thus, we do not know whether it is possible to differentiate them empirically – whether they predict different percentages of successful task performances. It is yet to be shown that there would be a difference at all. Format of mental representations Another way to distinguish them might be by the format of the mental representations they posit. The accounts were presented as positing different kinds of mental representations: the probabilistic reasoning was presented as defined over cognitive maps, while the deductive reasoning is taken to be computed over proposition-like mental representations, and made available by language (Bermudez, 2006). Rescorla's probabilistic account was formulated partly as a way to enable computing sophisticated reasoning over non-propositional mental representations. However, neither of these accounts is necessarily tied solely to their respective representational formats. Probabilistic reasoning may also be computed over propositions – the hypotheses which the probabilities are assigned to may as well be in the form of propositions. That is, in fact, exactly how the probability distribution over competing hypotheses is most often presented (Rescorla, 2009). In addition, even though it is not the most popular opinion among cognitive scientists, there are some authors (e.g. the advocates of diagrammatic reasoning) who claim that logical reasoning can be defined over non-linguistic representations, and that there is no intrinsic difference between symbolic and diagrammatic systems as far as their logical status goes (Shin & Lemon, 2018). This would imply that proposition-like mental representations might not be necessary for logical reasoning. Thus, each of these two accounts could be modelled quite differently from the versions of them proposed so far, and this would certainly reflect on their behavioral implications, significant for the experimental testing. Logical structure The most important difference between these accounts is supposed to be whether they commit to logical structure – whether they describe the 124 Sanja Srećković subject's reasoning as proceeding by logical rules, or by some other kind of inference. The deductive account clearly appeals to the logical structure of the deductive syllogism. The probabilistic account purportedly does not involve a logical structure, but is instead structured as a distribution of probabilities over a space of hypotheses (which in Rescorla's account have the form of cognitive maps). However, this attempt at differentiating the two accounts also has its difficulties. First, it is not clear how this difference might, if at all, be behaviorally manifested. Thus far, we have no means to experimentally test between these accounts. Second, it is an open question whether Bayesian reasoning is truly an alternative to reasoning by the disjunctive syllogism, or one way of implementing it – which might explain why they are also difficult to differentiate behaviorally. As Mody (2016) observed, the construction of the hypothesis space [in the probabilistic account] requires that children enumerate the relevant possibilities, and the inference mechanics maintain a fundamentally disjunctive relation between them. Further, the lowering of probability associated with gaining negative information essentially implements negation. Thus, even if reasoning proceeds probabilistically, propositional representations including negation and disjunction might be required to represent the information that the probabilistic mechanism uses as input. In other words, it is unclear whether probabilistic reasoning is, in fact, dependent on some form of logical reasoning, or on some logical concepts at least. It is at least sophisticated enough to involve the ability to distinguish between coupled and independent probabilities. I agree with Mody that the experimental results presented here do give evidence of representing negation and disjunction in some way. However, they do not necessarily imply fullblown logical inference. Simplicity of explanation In referring to the results of similar experiments indicative of the existence of basic logical reasoning in 12and 19-month-old human infants, Arlotti and colleagues (2018) admit that a Bayesian probabilistic model of reasoning could also explain the results: "Bayesian iterative models (...) could mimic deductive syllogism without assuming a logical inference." However, they argue that the probabilistic explanation, although compatible with the results, has more requirements than if we only assume the infants are performing a logical inference. It requires that infants represent the space of alternatives (which is equivalent to implementing a disjunctive representation), assign ordered priors to the alternatives, and assess alternative evaluations iteratively (Arlotti 2018). Arlotti and colleagues thus defend the deductive explanation of their own results, but differently than the previous authors – merely as a more Reasoning of Nonand Pre-Linguistic Creatures 125 parsimonious explanation of the results. However, this defence is still not unquestionable. One of the reasons is that it is not clear whether the probabilistic account actually commits to the assumptions brought up by Arlotti, especially if those assumptions imply an explicit representation of assigning probabilities to hypotheses, or of assessing the alternatives. Rescorla (2009) describes this assignment of probabilities as consisting in "suitable function relations between cognitive maps and mental representations denoting numbers". For a cognitive subject to assign probabilities really means "to enter a mental state bearing appropriate functional relations to other mental states". Rescorla seems to think that the complex probabilistic computations can be performed at lower-level processes of cognition (and perception), and does not really clarify what exactly the probabilistic account posits as being explicitly represented by the cognitive subjects. Thus, the last possible candidate used for deciding between the deductive and the probabilistic accounts – parsimoniousness of the explanation – is also rendered unusable, due to the lack of knowledge about the exact assumptions of the accounts. In conclusion, it is difficult to distinguish the reasoning mechanisms by their behavioral signatures when the implications of the theories that posit them have not been made clear. These accounts have not been developed in sufficient detail, and the experimental psychologists should bare this in mind in order to avoid oversimplified or premature conclusions about the cognitive abilities of preand non-linguistic creatures. In addition, the theoretical space surrounding these issues might be much more diverse and unknown than these studies imply. References Bermúdez, José Luis (2006). Animal reasoning and proto-logic. In S. Hurley and M. Nudds (eds.), Rational Animals? Oxford: Oxford University Press, 127–138. Call, Josep (2004). Inferences about the location of food in the great apes (Pan paniscus, Pan troglodytes, Gorilla gorilla, and Pongo pygmaeus). Journal of Comparative Psychology, 117–128. Cesana-Arlotti, N., Martín, A., Téglás, E., Vorobyova, L., Cetnarski, R., Bonatti, L. L., (2018) Precursors of logical reasoning in preverbal human infants, Science 359, 1263–1266. Demey, Lorenz, Kooi, Barteld and Sack, Joshua (2017). Logic and Probability, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2017 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), Retrieved from https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/ sum2017/entries/logic-probability/ Evans, J. St. B. T., Thompson V. A. and Over D. E. (2015). Uncertain deduction and conditional reasoning. Front. Psychol. 6, 398. 126 Sanja Srećković Mody, Shilpa & Carey, Susan (2016). The emergence of reasoning by the disjunctive syllogism in early childhood. Cognition, 154, 40–48. Mody, Shilpa (2016). The Developmental Origins of Logical Inference: Deduction and Domain-Generality. Doctoral dissertation, Harvard University, Graduate School of Arts & Sciences. Rescorla, Michael (2009). Chrysippus' dog as a case study in non-linguistic cognition. In Robert W. Lurz (ed.), The Philosophy of Animal Minds, Cambridge University Press, 52–71. Shin, Sun-Joo, Lemon, Oliver and Mumma, John (2018). Diagrams, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2018 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), Retreived from https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2018/ entries/diagrams/.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, GCBSS Special Edition (2019) ISSN: 2223-814X Copyright: © 2020 AJHTL /Author/sOpen AccessOnline @ http//: www.ajhtl.com 1 Investigating the influence of servicescape on customer loyalty at a fine dining restaurants in Jaipur Aravind Kumar Rai* School of Hotel Management Manipal University Jaipur, Jaipur, India Email.: [email protected] Corresponding author* Dr C. Anirvinna TAPMI School of Business Manipal University Jaipur, Jaipur, India E-Mail: [email protected] Abstract Restaurant owners and indeed all the personnel need to create a pleasant servicescape and provide service quality excellence in all their encounters with their customers. Servicescape is the physical environment of a service business where service is delivered to paying or non-paying customers. Servicescape has a very strong effect on all consumption experiences where service is delivered. In India the service sector contributes nearly half of the GDP. Restaurant owners, managers and all the personnel need to be servicescape oriented in order to increase a restaurant's performance and improve its sustainability prospects. Servicescape is thus the physical facility and services which are considered to enhance customer satisfaction and sustain business. The purpose of the present study was to establish the relationship between Servicescape and customer's loyalty towards fine dine restaurants in Jaipur. A total of 436 subjects who visited fine dining restaurant of Jaipur, age from 21 to 60 years of age, were selected for the study. To measure the servicescape parameters, a scale established by Mehrabian and Russell (1974) was adopted. To find out the relation between servicescape and customers' loyalty, the Pearson product minute correlation was used. To develop a model for customers' loyalty, linear regression was employed. Results revealed that there was a strong relationship between servicescape and customer's loyalty and this allowed a significant model for customer's loyalty to be developed. Hence, it is concluded that the loyalty of the customers can be predicted by using the proposed model. Keywords: Hospitality, restaurant, servicescape, customer satisfaction, customer loyalty, India. Introduction Food plays a major role for humans, not only for their survival but it is also important for all occasions like marriage, festivals and other such events. If food fails, everything fails. in the same manner in hospitality industries, it is a backbone of the hotels and catering business. The hotel industry is generally classified into three basic categories mid-segment hotels, business class and luxury segments. All segments are required to fulfil the food expectations of their diverse guests. If they are not able to obtain service as per their expectations, then the services fail for them. A fine dining restaurant is a full-service restaurant. Typically, fine dining restaurants serve high quality food and offer exceptional service by well-trained service staff in a high-end dining environment. Eating out is observed as in excess of an encounter today; a family stimulation; a method for correlating in the network where individuals get together while enjoying luscious luxuries. At the end of the day, purchasers look for a 'feasting knowledge' which incorporates delicious nourishment, a great mood, diversion from daily stresses and speedy assistance. Truth be told, the tangible pattern supports today\'s customers' wants and they always search for African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, GCBSS Special Edition (2019) ISSN: 2223-814X Copyright: © 2020 AJHTL /Author/sOpen AccessOnline @ http//: www.ajhtl.com 2 intriguing, agreeable, and significant tactile encounters. Expanding opulence, worldwide presentation, changing ways of life have made customers consistently request more profound tangible delights from enterprises from which they buy services and goods. With no special case to the nourishment administration industry, customers are setting critical incentives on the libertine advantages of nutrition and are searching for specific characteristics that connect every one of their faculties which makes for the most satisfying experiences. This impression of tangible experience is to a great extent influenced by numerous elements, and one significant factor being the earth from which the nourishment is devoured. In spite of the fact that the nourishment and the administration are considered as the essential parts, the earth wherein the nourishment is devoured extraordinarily influences the feasting knowledge. Indeed, the vibe, music, stylistic theme, lighting, temperature, and the "vibe" of café can make the entire feasting background progressively significant and decide to an enormous degree, the level of consumer loyalty and ensuing practices. Servicescape The idea of Servicescape was created by Booms and Bitner (1981) and it is characterized as "nature in which the administration is collected and in which the vendor and client connect, joined with substantial wares that encourage execution or correspondence of the administration". As such, it alludes to experiential components to configuration administration conditions where the client communicates with a specialist organization while the administration is conveyed. It is likewise called an administration setting in which an assistance event happens. It fuses both outside and inside characteristics. Even more unequivocally, Servicescape is made out of the auxiliary style inside elaborate design, merchandise, including factors, for instance, sound, smell, lighting, air quality, temperature; spatial position, tidiness, outside plan, signage and pictures, and distinctive physical resources which are acknowledged to actuate enthusiastic and scholarly responses in purchasers. Nicolaides (2008) states that there are various aspects that are important in servicescape and its pointers are restaurant ambience, design, employee behaviour and image, and of course product, promotion and price. The ambience is also dependent on the attractiveness of the place and actual hospitality meted out by employees. Also important are aromas, restaurant temperature, lighting, comfortable furniture and background music. Of course cleanliness is always a non-negotiable aspect. Servicescape is astoundingly convincing in passing on the company\'s image and along these lines forming the organization wants and experiences. As such, the notion of Servicescape addresses the totality of the disposition and physical condition of the organization, its goals and the enhancements attract clients before the obtaining the actual service required authentic. There is adequate evidence to suggest that the Servicescape has a huge effect on customer experiences and practices in the hospitality industry and all food and beverage operations (Nicolaides, 2008). Be that as it may, the significance of Servicescape is progressively clear in administrations, for example, inns, eateries, banks, schools, and clinics where clients invest expanded time and energy in the physical surroundings of the place. Furthermore, for example, high end cafés clients search out to encounter delight, fun and energy, thus Servicescape might be a significant determinant for their accomplishment and social need provision. High end Café/Fine dining Restaurant High end Cafés otherwise called complete, help restaurants offer explicit servings of nourishment, with a topical feel, are officially outfitted and have talented staff. These fill the need of a get-together contribution enticing nourishment from nearby flavours to mainland cooking styles. High-end eateries separate themselves from easy-going eating as the best nourishment, and have upscale service and an intriguing ambience. With a normal value for African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, GCBSS Special Edition (2019) ISSN: 2223-814X Copyright: © 2020 AJHTL /Author/sOpen AccessOnline @ http//: www.ajhtl.com 3 every head dropping in, the scope of Rs.750 Rs.3000, top notch food is costly and often targets rich and only the upper working-class purchaser fragments. The Indian top-notch food area is growing consistently all over the years with a yearly development of 19% and is relied upon to reach Rs.5393 crores in 2015 from Rs. 2,592 crores. In 2011(Indian Eatery Report 2012), it is stated that India has a sound portion of 14% in the composed eatery market and high-end food chains, for example, Territory China, Rajdhani, and Grill Country have been doing very well. Today fancy cafés can be in any setting and highlight a wide assortment of food, from ethnic to natural, and neighborhood style foods. These for the most part remain solitary outlets. However, some are appended to star class inns as well. As expendable salaries are rising, the feasting society is on the ascent showing fine development possibilities for the high end food segment. In India therefore, this fragment is high on focused angles pulling in numerous universal brands just as neighborhood players. Numerous universal extravagance brands, for example, Yauatcha and Hakkasan, London-based Cantonese cooking chains, Le Cirque, a French food chain, Megu, a New York-based Japanese chain, and Paris based Buddha Bar which has changed its name to B-Bar have just entered the Indian eatery space. These improvements demonstrate both promising development prospects and also simultaneously expanded aggressiveness. At this crossroads, the quick challenge for high end food restaurateurs is to give solid and healthy nourishment choices in quality outlets in order to make exceptional eating encounters so as to draw in and hold clients. Hence, the information of what sort of servicescape cafes need to experience and how these boost the influence by their general eating encounters turns out to be essential. The bistro industry being the greatest portion inside the organization business accept a vital activity in the Indian economy. At present it is regarded at Rs. 75,000 crores and is required to land at the indication of Rs.1,37,000 crores in 2015 with a CAGR of 17% (Indian Restaurant Report, 2012). Creating nonessential wages, changing dietary penchants, expanding the base of young people, rising urbanization, the higher percentage of women used, have been driving up the improvements. In spite of the way that the present market is managed by disordered players which sets up for 70% of the total market, the market is growing faster (20 to 25 % per annum) than the general bistro industry. Literature Review The main aim of this study is to discover how Servicescape influences consumer behavioural intensions in fine dining restaurants while experiencing the leisure services provided by that restaurant. To achieve the effective results, it is necessary to understand in detail the complete idea of Servicescape and its character in service marketing. This section covers the brief of the conceptual background of Servicescape, its role and significance, and offers brief summary of works on Servicescape including the consumer emotional and behavioural purposes. Booms and Bitner built up the idea of Servicescape in 1981 to imply the totality of physical condition of administration foundations. They characterized Servicescape as "the majority of the goal physical variables that can be constrained by the firm to improve representative and client activities". Further in 1992, Bitner crafted the term Servicescape with the definition "it is any substantial segment that encourages execution or imparts the administration". Hightower in 1997 alluded that Servicescape is "everything that is physically present to the customer during the administration experience". In 2007, Ezeh and Harris incorporated the client reactions and criticisms while characterizing Servicescape as "the physical condition (with or without client input) lodging the administration experience, which inspires inside responses in clients prompting the showcase of approach or evasion practices". Hoffman and Turley (2002) African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, GCBSS Special Edition (2019) ISSN: 2223-814X Copyright: © 2020 AJHTL /Author/sOpen AccessOnline @ http//: www.ajhtl.com 4 taking reference with Kotler (1973) characterized Servicescape as "basically a developed situation made of both unmistakable and elusive components which can be controlled and controlled to encourage the arrangement of administration contributions to clients". After exhaustive investigation, analysts reasoned that Servicescape is made out of external aspects (scene, outside plan, stopping, signage, encompassing region and so on.) and internal (structure, stylistic theme, signage, format, hardware, air quality, feeling, temperature and so on.) properties of administration office which are accepted in order to make passionate and intellectual impacts on buyers. This concurs with Nicolaides (2008; 2012) who argues that customers are the very lifeblood of a service industry business and so important that management permanently remove any and all of the obstacles which appear in quality service provision. Because of the early endeavours and broad research works of the early specialists, including the natural clinicians, Servicescape has a well-characterized and well-created hypothesis. Mehrabian and Russel (1974), examined how scientists set up the way that naturally boosts or makes a generous effect on human conduct. In 1973, Kotler thought of a term 'atmospherics'. This term was incorporated to clarify how constructed or counterfeit situations (structures, place, scenes) can be deliberately wanted to deliver explicit enthusiastic impacts in the purchaser that may improve the client's buy likelihood. As indicated by Kotler, a purchaser will in general consider and assess the 'total item'. By complete or absolute item, he implied that the item incorporates the administrations, bundling, publicizing, financing, guarantees and the spot from where the item will be purchased or devoured. It very well may be seen from genuine circumstances that in certain circumstances, place is more unmistakable in the buy choice than the item itself and consequently the such cases, place turns into the essential item. Kotler (1973) additionally portrayed the importance to the word 'climate' as Servicescape. In fact, environment is alluded to as "the air encompassing a circle" which speaks to the nature of the physical environment. This idea can be comprehended from a basic model, is an eatery is said to have great climate, it implies that the client sees the physical surroundings as wonderful. Kotler depicted the environment in tangible terms of sound, sight, aroma and contact. Fundamentally to incorporate aural (volume, pitch), visual (shading, brilliance, shapes and size), olfactory (freshness, aroma) and material (smoothness, delicateness, temperature) factors. Kotler further suggested that air goes about as consideration making or consideration pulling in mediums in those circumstances where items are expended or bought and where the merchant has different plan choices like retail locations, banks, eateries, and so forth. One of a kind climates likewise give an aggressive edge over others when other showcasing instruments are killed in a focused market. Markin, Lillis, and Narayana (1976) likewise concurred that space or spot influences the customers conduct and thus can be channelized to structure the shopping conduct of purchasers. When it comes to the discussion of Servicescape Dimensions, there is no consensus among the researchers. Baker (1987) acknowledged three sets of factors in the store environment: (i) Ambient Factors, (ii) Design Factors, and (iii) Social Factors. In 1992, Bitner identified three main dimensions of Servicescape: (i) Ambient Conditions, (ii) Spatial Layout and Functionality, and (iii) Signs, Symbols, and Artefacts. In 1997, Hightower extended the model given by Baker in 1987 and hypothesized sub-dimensional factors: (i) Ambient Factors, (ii) Design sub divided into Aesthetic and Functional Factors, and (iii) Social Factors including Customer and Employee Factors. Lin (2004) categorised three main sets of cues of Servicescape: (i) Visual Cues: colour, lighting, space and function, personal artefacts, layout and design, (ii) Auditory Cues: music and noise, and (iii) Olfactory Cues: odours and scents. Recent researchers such as Wakefield and Blodgett (1994) have explored various other sets of dimensions such as Layout Accessibility, Facility Aesthetics, Electronic Equipment, Seating Comfort, and Cleanliness Factors in leisure services. In 2003, Lucas identified five variables of a Servicescape: (i) Seating Comfort, (ii) Ambient Conditions, (iii) Interior décor, (iv) Cleanliness, and (v) Layout of the floor of the restaurant. African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, GCBSS Special Edition (2019) ISSN: 2223-814X Copyright: © 2020 AJHTL /Author/sOpen AccessOnline @ http//: www.ajhtl.com 5 Ryu (2005) came up with a six-factor Dinescape scale which consisted of (i) Facility Aesthetics, (ii) Ambience, (iii) Lighting, (iv) Service Product, (v) Layout, and (vi) Social Factors in a fine dining upscale restaurant. Tripathi (2007) and Siddiqui (2008) explored some other factors such as general interiors, social dimensions, internal display facilities and external facilities dimensions of a shopping mall. In 2008, Michaelia came up with six dimensions of Servicescape: (i) Cleanliness, (ii) Signage, (iii) Ambient Conditions, (iv) Functionality, (v) Layout, and (vi) General Facilities. Lee, et. al., in 2008, identified seven basic dimensions of Festivals cape: (i) Program Content, (ii) Staff, (iii) Facility, (iv) Food, (v) Souvenirs, (vi) Convenience, and (vii) Information. In 2009, Paninchukunnath described three dimensions of Servicescape: (i) Interior, (ii) Ambient Conditions, and (iii) other tangibles. Finally, in 2010, Rosenbaum and Massiah proposed that Physical, Social, Symbolic, and Restorative Stimuli are comprised of Servicescape. All the researchers concluded that Servicescape cannot be ignored in this competitive market and hence it is not a passive setting but rather an active setting which plays a crucial role in service organizations. Services are mostly produced after purchasing as they are intangible in nature. Hence, there exists a high rate of uncertainty among the customers with respect to the features and outputs of the service purchased. Therefore, customers need to rely on physical cues to estimate services beforehand, and also during consumption. Servicescape is enhanced with substantial prompts and becomes convenient in such circumstances. It helps in conveying administration and includes organizing the administration desires. Clients additionally always speak with the Servicescape during the administration conveyance procedure and most administrations are inseparable and require the client to be physically present in the administration manufacturing areas. Servicescape is additionally said to insightfully affect the client experience. In every one of these circumstances, Servicescape impacts the client experience and their passionate associations with the specialist co-op. Lovelock and Wirtz, (2004), clarified that the Servicescape helps in the showcasing of administrations by executing: (I) Message-Making Medium: representative signal, helps in conveying the one of a kind sort of nature of administration experience, (ii) Consideration Making Medium: causes in speaking to the objective clients, and (iii) Impact Making Medium: helps in giving impression of Servicescape characteristics, for example, sounds, hues, surfaces, aromas and so forth. The significance of Servicescape is reliant upon the measure of time the clients spend in the physical offices of the specialist organizations and the explanation of administration utilization. This is clarified as the more extended the time client spends in the physical help office, it is almost certain that he/she is to get affected by the Servicescape. Thus, the apparent nature of the Servicescape by the client decides his/her fulfilment. Servicescape assumes a significant job if there should be an occurrence of recreation benefits when contrasted with practical administrations. Servicescape assumes a pivotal job in cordiality benefits particularly in the eatery area. It is essential to locate the ideal harmony between the appearance and the flavour of the nourishment aspects, and furthermore, it is critical to find some kind of harmony between the actual menu and the stylistic layout of the eatery. Methodology An aggregate was received to draw the reactions of 436 clients of fancy eateries in Jaipur by utilizing a Comfort Testing technique. The survey was utilised based on Mehrabian and Russell (1974) for estimating the servicescape parameters of client's and it depended on a seven-point Likert scale. The dependability of the survey was estimated by utilizing the Cronbach's alpha test. The ordinariness of the information for satisfying the presumption of applying parametric test was estimated by utilizing a Histogram and PP-plot. African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, GCBSS Special Edition (2019) ISSN: 2223-814X Copyright: © 2020 AJHTL /Author/sOpen AccessOnline @ http//: www.ajhtl.com 6 Analysis Table1. Reliability Statistics Cronbach's Alpha No. of Items 0.978 62 Table 1 reveals that the reliability statistics for the questionnaire used in the present study using Cronbach's alpha and the value of the Cronbach's alpha is 0.978 which is excellent in the context of reliability. Table 2. Descriptive Statistics Mean -Std. Deviation N Service 110.28 27.938 436 Loyalty 54.94 14.865 436 Table 2 explains the descriptive statistics with mean and standard deviation of Servicescape (110.28±27.93) and Loyalty (54.94±14.865). Table 3. Correlations Service Loyalty Service Pearson Correlation 1 .769** Sig. (2-tailed) .000 N 436 436 **. Correlation is significant at the 0.01 level (2-tailed). Table 3 reveals the relationship between Servicescape and Loyalty is 0.769 which is significant at 0.5 level. It shows that servicescape is highly correlated to customer's loyalty. Table 4. Model Summaryb Model R R Square Adjusted R Square Std. Error of the Estimate Change Statistics DurbinWatson R Square Change F Change df1 df2 Sig. F Change 1 .769a .591 .590 9.518 .591 627.033 1 434 .000 1.722 a. Predictors: (Constant), Service b. Dependent Variable: Loyalty Table 4 shows that the value of R-square is 0.59 and value of adjusted R-square is 0.59, which is good enough to predict the loyalty in respect of servicescape. This model explains 59% variation in loyalty due to servicescape in the fine dining restaurant. The equation of the model is Loyalty=9.832+0.409 (Servicescap). The model is significant as shown in Table-5 and the p-value is less than 0.05 level. From figure 1&2, it is clear that the data is usually distributed and the statement of fitting of the linear regression model is fulfilled. Table 5. ANOVAa Model Sum of Squares df Mean Square F Sig. Regression 56806.142 1 56806.142 627.033 .000b 1 Residual 39318.307 434 90.595 Total 96124.450 435 a. Dependent Variable: Loyalty b. Predictors: (Constant), Service African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, GCBSS Special Edition (2019) ISSN: 2223-814X Copyright: © 2020 AJHTL /Author/sOpen AccessOnline @ http//: www.ajhtl.com 7 Table 6. Coefficientsa Model Unstandardized Coefficients Standardized Coefficients t Sig. Collinearity Statistics B Std. Error Beta Tolerance VIF (Constant) 9.832 1.858 5.291 .000 1 Service .409 .016 .769 25.041 .000 1.000 1.000 a. Dependent Variable: Loyalty Figure 1. African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, GCBSS Special Edition (2019) ISSN: 2223-814X Copyright: © 2020 AJHTL /Author/sOpen AccessOnline @ http//: www.ajhtl.com 8 Figure 2. Discussion/conclusion The basic determination of this learning was to identify the factors of Servicescape, and their impact on customer loyalty. Data was collected through a survey of 436 respondents who are the actual diners of fine dining restaurants in Jaipur and analysed using a set of descriptive and inferential statistical tools. The Cronbach's alpha value is 0.978, which shows that questionnaire is highly dependable. From histogram it is observed that the data is normally distributed. So, use of Karl Pearson coefficient of correlation and linear regression model is appropriate. The correlation coefficient between servicescape and customer's loyalty is 0.769, which is highly positively correlated, furthermore a regression model is developed having adjusted R2 value=0.590. Hence, it is concluded that the servicescape is 59% responsible for variation in customer's loyalty. References Ahamefula, I. E. (2015). THE POVERTY OF LEADERSHIP AND SCIENCE OF PRODIGALISM IN NIGERIA: A PHILOSOPHICAL INQUEST. European Scientific Journal, 11(29). Akpan, B. S., & Leonard, N. (2018). ENVIRONMENTAL ETHICS: FROM PHILOSOPHY TO MOVEMENT. Bulletin Social-Economic and Humanitarian Research, (2). Baker, J. (1987). The Role of the Environment in Marketing Services: The Consumer Perspective, in The Services Challenge: Integrating for Competitive Advantage, John A, Czepeil. Carole A. Congram, and James Shanahan, eds. Chicago: American Marketing Association, 79-84. Baker, J., Grewal, D. & Levy, M. (1992). An Experimental Approach to Making Retail Store Environmental Decisions, Journal of Retailing, 68, 445-460. Baker, J., Parasuraman, A.P., Grewal, D. & Voss, G.B.. (2002). The Influence of Multiple Store African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, GCBSS Special Edition (2019) ISSN: 2223-814X Copyright: © 2020 AJHTL /Author/sOpen AccessOnline @ http//: www.ajhtl.com 9 Environment Cues on Perceived Merchandise Value and Patronage Intentions, Journal of Marketing, 66, 120-141. BASSEY, S. A., NWOYE, L., & OKPE, T. A. (2018). Happiness, Limitations Religiosity. Journal of Research and Multidisciplinary, 1(1), 33-39. Bitner, M.J. (1992). Servicescapes: The Impact of Physical Surroundings on Customers and Employees, Journal of Marketing, 56, 57-71. Caldwell, C. & Hibbert, S.A. (1999). Play That One Again: the Effect of Music Tempo on Consumer Behaviour in a Restaurant, European Advances in Consumer Research, 4, 5862. Chen, K-Y. (2011). Effects of servicescape, waiting experiences and price rationality on consumers' behavioral intentions in scenery restaurants, African Journal of Business Management, 5(11), 4476-4484. Chua, B.L., Othman, M., Boo, H.C. Chern., Karim, A., Shahrim, M. & Ramachandran, S. (2009). Customers' Reaction to Servicescape Failure and Associated Recovery Strategy: An Exploratory Study in the Food Service Industry, Journal of Tourism, Hospitality & Culinary Arts, 1(2). Ciani, (2010). A study of how lighting can affect a guest's dining experience. Graduate Theses and Dissertations. Paper11369. Available online at http://lib.dr.iastate.edu/etd/11369 ETENG, MRS NZEYO G. "CHRISTIANITY, WOMEN AND THE NIGERIAN COMMONWEALTH." Ezeh, C. & Harris, L.C. (2007). Servicescape Research: A Review and a Research Agenda, Harris, L.C. & Ezeh, C. (2008). Servicescape and loyalty intentions: An empirical investigation", European Journal of Marketing, 42(3/4), 390-422. Hoffman, K. D., Kelley, S. W. & Chung, B.C. (2003). A CIT investigation of servicescape failures and associated recovery strategies, Journal of Services Marketing, 17(4), 322-340. Ikegbu, E. A. (2018, April). Traditional African Male Dominance in Leadership, Cologenderism: The Need for Gender Balancing. In ICGR 2018 International Conference on Gender Research (p. 197). Academic Conferences and publishing limited. Ikegbu, E. A., Duru, S. A., & Dafe, E. U. (2004). The Rationality of Judicial Precedent in Nigeria's Jurisprudence. American International journal of contemporary research, 4(5). Kim, N. & Lee, M. (2012). Other customers in a service encounter: examining the effect in a restaurant setting, Journal of Services Marketing, 26(1), 27–40. Lee, S. (2011). Evaluating serviceability of healthcare servicescapes: Service design perspective, International Journal of Design, 5(2), 61-71. Leonard, N., Udoudom, M. D., & Bassey, S. A. (2019). Strategic Arms Limitation Talks (SALT): an ethical or political problem. International Journal of Humanities and Innovation (IJHI), 2(1), 5256. Levitt, T. (1981). Marketing Intangible Products and Product Intangibles, Harvard Business Review, 59, 94-102. Liang, R-D. & Zhang, J-S. (2011). The Effect of Service Interaction Orientation on Customer Satisfaction and Behavioral Intention: The Moderating Effect of Dining Frequency. Procedia Social and Behavioral Sciences, 24, 1026–1035. Lin, I. (2004). Evaluating a servicescape: the effect of cognition and emotion, International Journal of Hospitality Management,23(2),163-178. Lin, I.Y. & Mattila, A. (2011). Restaurant Servicescape, Service Encounter, and Perceived Congruency on Customer's Emotions and Satisfaction, Journal of Hospitality Marketing and Management, 19(8), 819-841. Marketing Review, 7(1), 59-78. Nicolaides, A. (2008). Service quality, empowerment and ethics in the South African hospitality and tourism industry and the road ahead using ISO9000/1, A thesis submitted to the Faculty of Commerce, Doctor of Commerce degree at the University of Zululand, South Africa. Nicolaides, A. (2012). Quality provision in upmarket restaurants: a survey of diners in three restaurants in a Gauteng casino complex. African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, 2(2). African Journal of Hospitality, Tourism and Leisure, GCBSS Special Edition (2019) ISSN: 2223-814X Copyright: © 2020 AJHTL /Author/sOpen AccessOnline @ http//: www.ajhtl.com 1 0 Ogar, J. N., Nwoye, L., & Bassey, S. A. (2019). Archetype of globalization: illusory comfort of neocolonialism in Africa. International Journal of Humanities and Innovation (IJHI), 2(3), 90-95.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
The influence of language in conceptualization: three views Agustin Vicente, Ikerbasque: Basque Foundation for Science & University of the Basque Country, UPV-EHU Fernando Martinez-Manrique, University of Granada In the fields of the lord, stood Abel and Cain Cain slew Abel 'neath the black rain At night he couldn't stand the guilt or the blame So he gave it a name So he gave it a name So he gave it a name Gave it a name Bruce Springsteen Abstract Different languages carve the world in different categories. They also encode events in different ways, conventionalize different metaphorical mappings, and differ in their rule-based metonymies and patterns of meaning extensions. A long-standing, and controversial, question is whether this variability in the languages generates a corresponding variability in the conceptual structure of the speakers of those languages. Here we will present and discuss three interesting general proposals by focusing on representative authors of such proposals. The proposals are the following: first, that the effect of language in conceptualization is general and deep; second, that the effect is local, transient, shallow and easily revisable; and third, that there is no proper effect of language on conceptualization, although there is surely some cognitive impact of language: many conceptual tasks engage language one way or another. Introduction Many authors have held that language is necessary for thought: without language, there are no concepts. This language-first thesis is typically associated with German romantics, but it is by no means exclusive of them. Many philosophers of the analytic tradition have endorsed it, and it has even been claimed that the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis was inspired less by the romantics than by early analytic philosophers (Joseph 1996). However, the hypothesis that language somehow shapes thought, or our conceptual structure, does not require a thesis as strong as the language-first thesis. Many contemporary psychologists believe that non-linguistic babies have concepts, but some argue that the acquisition of language effects a kind of re-calibration of conceptual categories, and some hold that language is a source of concepts. There are many issues that are usually run together in this debate. We want to steer clear from some of them. First of all, we want to avoid the issue of whether language is or is not either a vehicle of thought 1 . If language is a vehicle of thought, then presumably language does have an impact on conceptual structure. However, language can have an impact on conceptual structure without being a vehicle of thought. Secondly, some authors have distinguished between two general ways in which language can have an effect on cognition: language-as-a-lens and language-as-a-tool-kit (see Gentner and Goldin-Meadow 2003; Gomila 2012). We will not be concerned with the issue of language-as-a-tool-kit, which has to do more with whether there are certain things that minds cannot do without using language. For instance, it has been claimed that language is involved in intermodular thinking (Spelke 2003), or that it is indispensable for conscious thought (Jackendoff 2012). These are not the kinds of issues we will be concerned with here. Our focus is rather on the issue of language-as-a-lens. In a first pass, this is the issue of whether or not languages affect the way we conceptualize the world. But this is too broad. We want to focus on the issue of whether languages have some effect in conceptualization in those domains where it seems that there can be categorization without language. At least, it is required that there is a domain "out there" that can be categorized in different ways by different languages. This means, in particular, that we will leave aside the much-debated case of numbers and of arithmetic cognition. This case is one where, apparently, there cannot be number concepts –that is, a whole domain of concepts– without language because number concepts seem to go hand-inhand with the linguistic symbols we use for them, instead of drawing on perceptual or core-conceptual information (see Carey 2009; Gordon 2004, 2010). If your language has incorporated natural numbers, you can have number concepts and count; otherwise, there seems to be no way to have any properly arithmetic ability at all. Cases like this do not sit well with the spirit of the "lens" metaphor, which is best exemplified by the color case. According to many, different languages carve the color spectrum in different ways, probably transforming a pre-existent way of categorization. In fact, the numbers case seems to exemplify better the "tool-kit" metaphor, since we seem to engage the linguistic system in counting. 2. Deep, transient, or no effects? Enthusiasts, moderates and skeptics 1 For this issue, we refer the reader to Vicente and Martinez-Manrique (2005, 2008). Some authors claim that language does not affect conceptualization at all, many others accept that it may affect conceptualization to some extent, and others want to hold that the effect of language on conceptualization is vast and deep. One initial problem is that it is not entirely clear what it takes for an effect to be deep. On the one hand, one could expect that if language had a profound impact, it would be roughly along the lines of the resilient changes that language's phonetics brings about in the perception of phonemes – as pointed out by Gleitman and Papafragou (2005) or Hespos and Spelke (2004). Yet the evidence shows that grammar and semantics seem to bring about changes in the conceptual structure that are quite unlike the changes that phonetics imposes. On the other hand, perhaps such a demand is too strong for the conceptual sphere, where – unlike the phonetics case– there are other factors that intervene in its organization. Here we will present and discuss three interesting general proposals: the enthusiasts, who hold that the effect of language in conceptualization is general and deep; the moderates, for whom the effect is local, transient, shallow and easily revisable; and the skeptics, who see no proper effect of language on conceptualization, although they admit some cognitive impact of language in the sense that many conceptual tasks engage language one way or another. These three seem to be the relevant contenders in the contemporary discussion, and for each of them we will select one the most recent representative lines of research: work from Casasanto et al. for the enthusiasts, from Landau et al. for the moderates, and from Li et al. for the skeptics. Of course, there are other areas of research, and we will mention briefly some of them, but they have been previously covered in other papers (e.g., Bloom and Keil 2001; Gleitman and Papafragou 2005). In addition, we will devote relatively more space to the enthusiasts' camp, given that it is here where most of the polemic points arise. 2.1. The enthusiasts The initial revival of Linguistic Relativity (LR, from now on) purported to show that language affects adult categorization. For instance, Lucy (1992) tried to show that speakers of classifier languages (vs. speakers of languages with the count noun/ mass noun distinction) 2 categorized more in terms of substance than in terms of shape, while Levinson and his colleagues picked out the domain of spatial coordinates and compared 2 Classifier languages count objects relying on classifier particles that vary according to the kind of object it is –animate/inanimate, substance it is made of, shape, etc– as in 'one [animal] pig'. Languages with count nouns can apply numerals directly to them ('one pigs, two pigs'). the categorization of speakers of languages with dominant egocentric relative coordinates vs. that of speakers of languages with only absolute coordinates (Levinson 1997, 2003). 3 It was held that these purported relativistic effects become manifest some time after children acquire language, a prediction implied by the thesis that language makes the difference (Lucy and Gaskins 2001). A new wave of studies by developmental psychologists suggests that children categorize the world in identical and universal ways until they master their language (Hespos and Spelke 2004). There are plenty of domains of categorization that are under the scrutiny of experimental work now: from the classical domain of colors to the projection of grammatical gender on attributes of real-world things (Sera et al. 2002; Boroditsky et al. 2003; Kousta et al. 2008). So it seems that the evidence in favor of some degree of LR is growing. Yet, relativists still have to clear up two lingering worries about their research: 1) Do the data actually reveal that language affects non-linguistic conceptualization? 2) Can they really show that the correlation between linguistic differences and the alleged conceptual differences is due to linguistic differences causing conceptual differences? Let us develop these two issues. Linguistic Relativity is a thesis about the impact of language on cognition. Most participants in the current debate take it that the issue is whether or not language shapes our conceptual structure. Experiments should be designed in such a way that the tasks subjects have to solve cannot be solved by linguistic means. They have to engage cognition, not language. We would not test LR if subjects were classifying objects or events in some domain by thinking "how does my language call these things/these events"? This is the worry related to whether data reveal that language affects nonlinguistic cognition. We will see below that some authors doubt that classical experiments deal with this worry successfully. The second worry is the following: many experiments show that there is a correlation between language and cognition. However, they do not show that this correlation is due to language's influencing thought. For instance, there are correlations between speaking a language with absolute coordinates and re-arranging, after turning 180o, an array of objects with respect not to the subject's own body but with respect to those coordinates 3 Egocentric relative spatial coordinates are those that rely on the orientation of an object with respect to the bodily position of the speaker, as in 'take the road to your left'. Absolute coordinates rely on a stable frame of reference, such as a landmark ('take the road uphill') or cardinal points ('take the road north'). (Pederson 1995; Levinson 1997, 2003). Yet the effect may be due to a third factor, such as environmental circumstances (Bloom and Keil 2001). We will concentrate on a recent line of research, developed by Casasanto (2008; Casasanto and Boroditsky 2008). Casasanto designed a series of experiments to test whether linguistic metaphors (e.g., talking about time in terms of spatial distance) leave a trace in non-linguistic tasks. He first shows that there is a pattern of interference from the spatial over the temporal cognitive domain. A typical task is: English speakers watch a line growing in the horizontal axis in a screen. When the image is removed, they make an estimation of the time the line took to grow by clicking a button twice. The task seems to be entirely non-linguistic: it does not recruit linguistic representations of time in terms of spatial distance. Yet, he observed that, keeping the time fixed, the longer the line was, the longer it was estimated to be the time of its growth. On the other hand, speakers of languages that do not use the time-as-distance metaphor as much as English did not show this pattern of interference in these tasks. However, the most intriguing part of Casasanto's approach is the next step: in order to show that the observed correlation between language and the conceptualization of time is due to a causal influence of language, he trained his subjects for 30 minutes, making them use unusual spatial linguistic metaphors. English speakers were forced to use the time-as-amount metaphor, while Greek speakers, who make relatively little use of the time-as-distance metaphor, were forced to use this latter linguistic metaphorical mapping, instead of their preferred time-as-amount metaphor. Then he ran the experiments again, and the pattern of interference was reversed! Casasanto (2008) claims that his results show not only that language shapes conceptualization but also that language has a profound influence in thought. It is an issue in this debate what mechanism could explain the effects of language on thought (see below). Casasanto puts the burden on associations, and explains how relativistic effects are possible, and how they can be overridden, in terms of Hebbian long-term strengthening of frequent associations and short-term adjustments due to immediate physical or linguistic experience. Casasanto's claims raise some interesting issues. First, it is somewhat paradoxical that to show that language has a profound influence on thought, he has to show that such a profound influence can be reversed after only 30 minutes of training. Moreover, Casasanto claims that language is only a part, even if important, of the way experience shapes our way of thinking. For instance, cultural features such as directionality of writing can also shape the way we think about time –as running from left to right vs. running from right to left (Casasanto and Bottini 2010). In fact, he takes it that "if language plays a privileged role in shaping thought, it is perhaps only by virtue of being a ubiquitous and highly systematic form of experience" (Casasanto 2008: 75, our italics). This means that what molds our thought is not language but experience,,which in turn means that thought can be molded by other forms of experience. So if Casasanto's claims about the linguistic metaphors of time could be generalized to other domains, language could still be considered at most a mold of thought. On the other hand, the molding effects of linguistic experience seem to be easily reversed not only by manipulating linguistic experience, as Casasanto does. Data collected by Li and collaborators (Li and Gleitman 2002; Li et al. 2011) on frames of reference –where results can be reversed by changing the experimental conditions– point in this direction. Now, there is another challenge for defenders of the deep effects thesis: the challenge of the mechanism (see Malt et al. 2003). They must explain how linguistic representations of categories in the world come to have deep effects in the way subjects conceptualize the world. Casasanto's suggestion of Hebbian associative learning is by no means the only mechanism that has been proposed. For instance, Boroditsky et al. (2003) suggest that the fact that we have a label makes us strengthen similarities between all those instances that fall under the label and thus reshapes the similarity-space. Evans (2009), in turn, talks about linguistic indexing as a process in which language interacts with the conceptual system in a language-specific way, producing thus linguistic relativity effects. Finally, Majid et al. (2004) gesture towards the idea of a representational redescription (Karmiloff-Smith 1992), and even a non-relativist like Fodor (1975) speculated with the idea of linguistic-based information chunking. 4 An interesting proposal for a mechanism comes from the developmental psychology camp and puts the weight in the process of labeling. It has long been noted that linguistic labeling helps in categorization tasks. Waxman and Markow (1995) showed that 12-month-olds are sensitive to two objects being labeled either equally or differently. When objects have equal labels, children look for a categorical similarity at some level in the subordinate/superordinate hierarchy, whereas for objects with 4 Representational re-description is a process by which information originally encoded in a representational format is "translated" to a different mode of representation. Chunking is the process of treating a collection of representations as a single unit. different labels they create representations of two distinct individuals (see also Gelman and Markman 1986, 1987; Graham, Kilbreath and Welder 2004; Graham and Kilbreath 2007; Welder and Graham 2001; Waxman and Braun 2005). Xu (2002) has shown that these effects of labeling can be observed in 9-month olds: giving different labels to two different objects that go in and out of a screen, one at a time, makes babies "see" two objects instead of just one. Labeling seems to have an effect in creating kind concepts, that is, concepts that are, as Carey (2009) puts it, "inductively deep" (see Weiskopf 2008). It is customary to speak of concepts as bodies of knowledge stored in long-term memory that we use to induce properties of new objects. Thus, it seems that labeling has a highly relevant role in generating a class of concepts that is distinctively important. In fact, it is so important that most talk of concepts concerns that class. For instance, in a classic experiment, Gopnik and Sobel (2000) introduced a "blicket detector" to two-year olds, along with four objects, two of which were called 'blickets'. One of the "blickets" was put on top of the detector, and a light turned on while a tune was sung. Then a "non-blicket" was put on top of the machine, and nothing happened. The children were told to choose another object that would turn the detector on: they took the other "blicket". That is, they induced that only "blickets" could turn the machine on. One impressive result in this area is reported in Dewar and Xu (2009). Dewar and Xu found that the effects of labeling in creating categories arise as early as 10 months. A striking fact is that the effects of labeling can override not just perceptual similarity but even identity. Dewar and Xu presented different pairs of objects to different infants. The objects could be either perceptually dissimilar or identical. Then they introduced either a novel name applying to both objects, or two novel names, one for each. Thus, they had four conditions: dissimilar objects, one common name; dissimilar objects, two names; identical objects, one common name; and identical objects, two names. After that, the infants could hear one of the objects making a sound. The experiment tested the infants' expectancies about whether the second object should make the same sound or not in all four conditions. Infants in a non-labeling condition expect two identical objects to make the same sound and two different-looking objects to make different sounds. However, in the labeling condition expectancies reversed dramatically: infants who heard two distinct labels expected the object pair to make different sounds, whereas infants who heard one repeated label expected the object pair to make the same sound, regardless of whether they looked different or identical. Xu (2007) thinks that infants expect count nouns to map onto kinds of objects –an expectation that leads them to use labeling as a source of evidence in identifying kinds. We take it that this means that labeling can contribute to create concepts (and this is in fact the usual interpretation of labeling: see Waxman and Markow 1995). These linguistically created categories may reach stability if they are able to support inductive generalizations. If we assume that languages do not usually carve the world in gerrymandered ways, it seems that word learning could have a profound effect in our conceptual system (but see Malt et al. 2011). Long et al. (2012, 241) summarize their results in the idea that "labels act as a kind of conditional ''cumulative cue''. If labels are the only evidence favoring a conceptual relation, and there is other conflicting evidence or simply insufficient support for the labels, children might ignore them". So, labels can be ignored, but they are not ignored if they carve the world in ways that are interesting to our inferential practices. Labeling, thus, could explain at least some eventual relativistic effects (see Casasola 2005). If labeling has the role Xu and others suggest, and if linguistic categories are not gerrymandered, a good part of our kind concepts may be provided by our language, i.e., we may use linguistic categories for thinking. Even though there are other sources of evidence that we can use to acquire kind concepts, the importance of language eventually means that we may have many concepts that correspond to linguistic categories. In turn, there may be differences in the conceptual repertoires of speakers of different languages, given that not all languages carve the world in the same kinds 5 . In addition, there is apparently no reason why the effects of labeling should be restricted to kind concepts. In fact, Casasola (2005) argues that labeling affects spatial concepts 6 , and Russell and Widen (2002) extend its influence to emotion recognition. However, it is possible to rule out the importance of labeling on account of findings of Barbara Malt and colleagues. Malt et al. (2003) present two kinds of studies: on motion events, and on artifactual categories. Here we will focus on the second study (we describe motion events below). Malt et al. say that there is huge cross-linguistic 5 However, note that if labeling proceeds in the way we have told, we are already justified in claiming that language shapes thought. The issue of LR comes afterwards: labeling + linguistic variability = LR. 6 Casasola proposes that the relativistic effects in spatial relations (Korean vs. English) could be explained as results of the effects of labeling. See Hespos and Spelke (2004) and McDonough, Choi and Mandler (2003) on the issue of spatial relations. variation in naming artifactual kinds. They collected up to 60 items that could be called 'jars', 'bottles' or plainly 'containers' in English, and compared English naming patterns against Chinese and Argentinean Spanish naming patterns, finding notable differences. However, when asked to group the objects based on their similarity, there was no significant difference between English, Chinese and Argentinean subjects. That is, their similarity space did not seem to have been altered by the naming patterns. This result eventually contradicts Borodistky et al.'s idea that by having a label we strengthen similarities between the objects that receive the same label, thus reshaping the previous similarity-space. However, it also seems to speak against the alleged influence of labeling in creating conceptual categories. It has to be noted, nonetheless, that Malt et al. tested similarity judgments. The line we have been following does not entail that linguistically generated concepts have to have an impact on the perceptual similarity space. Not all concepts can be thought as partitions in the similarity space. In fact, what Dewar and Xu's experiment suggests is that we may generate concepts that ignore perceptual similarities. In their experiment, labeling makes children not categorize by similarity but by the assumption that dissimilar objects share hidden properties –since they seem to assume that if two objects receive the same label, they have some non-obvious properties in common. So one may wonder whether Malt et al.'s results do in effect contradict at all the idea that labeling can have an effect in our conceptual repertoire. It is however important to note that the evidence told until now falls short of proving that labeling has robust effects on an adult's conceptual repertoire. In fact, it has not even been shown that it has effects on children's conceptual repertoire. It is suggestive to think that labeling has the effect of "opening files" that, if things go well, become information containers. Most people working on labeling point towards the same thing (one exception is Sloutsky and Lo 1999). However, labeling may have shallower effects. As we are about to see, some authors hold that language has only a temporary influence on thought. It may be that labeling too has only a temporary effect and that the categories we apparently begin to form are just short-lived proto-categories construed on-line for the task at hand. Although it seems that no researcher takes this possibility seriously at this point, we know of no follow-up experiments that test how long the effects of labeling last. (For instance, it would be good to test kids some days after the experiment in a verbal interference condition –so that they do not recall the label). 2.2. The moderates The shallow and transient effect approach is best exemplified by Barbara Landau and colleagues. Landau et al. (2010) focus their research on space. They hold that language has a temporary effect on spatial cognition by means of two mechanisms: selectivity and enrichment. Language encodes certain distinctions and not others: this can have an effect on what people attend to in on-line cognitive tasks. This is the selectivity mechanism. Language also encodes some information in a form that is more robust than the way this kind of information is encoded by the visual-spatial system. Language thus can turn out to be more efficient than the proper visual-spatial system in storing and retrieving this kind of information: this is the enrichment mechanism. However, linguistic encodings are recruited and used in selecting and enriching spatial representations only for brief intervals –basically, in order to perform a determinate task. Their impact is in no way permanent, i.e., spatial cognition is not changed by language in any deep way. Concerning selectivity, Landau et al. discuss spatial tasks where prima facie being a speaker of one language rather than of another could have some cognitive import. It is known that languages represent motion events differently in terms of Figure, Ground, Motion, Manner and Path (Talmy 1985). Some languages, like English, lexicalize Manner but not Path, which is left to the prepositional system; others, like Spanish, lexicalize Path, and not Manner, which is optionally expressed by gerundive forms. Since the contemporary revival of the issue of LR (Gumperz and Levinson 1996), these differences have been widely discussed (Slobin 1996; Malt et al. 2003; Papafragou et al. 2008, among others). In general, results suggest that there are no differences in conceptualization between speakers of a Manner-language and of a Path-language. Speakers of Manner languages interpret, memorize and retrieve motion events in basically the same way as speakers of Path languages do, unless they are told to verbally describe the events after watching them. One may conclude that this shows that language is used only in linguistic tasks but Landau et al. argue that in these cases language is used to allocate attention in elements of the motion event that would not receive as much attention if they did not have to be verbalized afterwards. However, this is done just for the sake of the task. Something along the same lines occurs in the hotly debated case of reference frames. The controversy here is whether speakers of languages that describe spatial arrangements using an absolute frame of reference differ in their spatial cognition from speakers of languages, like English, which predominantly use egocentric and allocentric frames of reference (see Pederson 1995; Levinson 1997; Li and Gleitman 2002, among others). Landau et al. think that human beings have different reference frames at their disposal, and that they have to select which one to use. Language can shift the attentional focus to one of them and make it salient for selection. Following this line of thinking, Landau et al. report an experiment where they tested whether language could reverse an attentional bias that has been observed. Motion events, as well as events that consist in a transference of possession, typically take place between a source (a "from") and a goal (a "to"). However, in both cases –motion and transference– we tend to focus our attention more on the goal than on the source. Landau and colleagues gave verbal hints to 3-year-old children to see whether this pattern could be easily reversed. For instance, they told a group of children to describe a transference-of-possession event using the verb 'give', while another group was required to use the verb 'get'. They found no significant difference in the way the task was complied, which, according to them, means that language can be used to reverse our usual perspective or construal of events at almost no cognitive cost. However Landau et al.'s most original research concerns enrichment. The visual system has well-attested problems at binding together some features of a visual display. For instance, we may watch a square divided in two halves by a vertical line, the right part green, the left part red. When, after a brief exposure, we have to pick out the square from a set of four pictures with different distributions of green and red, we have real problems to retrieve the right distribution of colors. We know the colors are green and red, but do not know where they go: we do not bind colors to the left and right parts of the square. Landau et al. tested whether binding could be improved by language. They tested 4-year olds in several conditions: experimenters labeled the whole square ("this is a dax"), or they said "the red is touching the green", or they drew kids' attention to the red part ("look at the red!"), or, finally, they directly told them: "the red is on the left". Children improved over the no-stimulus condition only in the last of these conditions. What is intriguing, however, is that these kids did not master the right/left distinction. According to Landau and colleagues, this means that they are not storing just the linguistic representation –and discarding the visual representation. Rather, the situation seems to be one in which children's attention is directed towards the relation between the two colors and that they are able to solve the binding problem because their attention was so directed. So, language serves to enrich our non-linguistic representations by drawing our attention to elements that it can easily encode. However, this effect is temporary: ten minutes later, children were unable to distinguish the square from its mirror image. Interestingly, perhaps this approach can be extended to explain Spelke's famous reorientation data. Experiments had shown that children, as well as most animals and adults in a verbal interference condition, performed poorly in a reorientation task where they had to integrate geometrical information about a room with color information about its walls. Spelke and colleagues (see Spelke 2003) and Carruthers (2002), as well as Mithen (1995), have proposed that language can be a sort of intermodular lingua franca, capable of integrating information coming from a number of different, relatively autonomous, domain-specific systems. Spelke proposed that we are capable of entertaining cross-domain thoughts thanks to the combinatorial system of our language. However, in one of their latest experiments, Spelke and colleagues (see Shusterman et al. 2011) found out that kids did much better if they were simply told "I'm hiding the sticker at the red/white wall" before the task. It has to be noted, however, that the kind of use of language that Landau and colleagues point at may not always be beneficial. As we have seen, language may enrich visual/spatial representations, and allow subjects identify displays that are hardly identifiable without a previous verbal encoding. However, researchers have obtained the opposite pattern of results related to the phenomenon known as verbal overshadowing (Chin and Schooler 2008; Memon and Meissner 2002). Verbal overshadowing occurs when verbalizing mental contents deteriorates the performance of a task in which those contents appear to be involved. For instance, in a classical experimental setting, all subjects watch a video about a certain salient individual that they will have to identify afterwards. After watching the film and before testing their identification capacity, some subjects had to describe verbally the target individual while others had to read an unrelated text for the same amount of time. The results showed that the subsequent performance in recognizing the individual (e.g., picking him/her out of a line-up) was poorer for those subjects that had been asked to describe the individual. The phenomenon is robust in the domain of face recognition –where it was originally demonstrated– but Chin and Schooler (2008) report that it has been observed in domains such as decision making, problem solving, analogical reasoning, or visual imagery. More work needs to be done in order to know under what conditions and in which domains verbalization is helpful or unhelpful. It is particularly relevant to uncover the reason why in some cases verbalization is an aid while in other cases it seems to be an obstacle. 2.3. The skeptics. Many authors do not believe that language can shape our conceptual structure in any interesting way. Among them we find Malt and colleagues (Malt et al. 2003), Pinker (2007), Carruthers (2011), Gleitman and Papafragou (2005), Li and colleagues (Li and Gleitman 2002; Li, Dunham, Carey 2009; Li et al. 2011). We have already presented some of their criticisms in our exposition of the positions favorable to the linguistic shaping hypothesis in section 2.1. Here we will focus on a study by Li, Dunham and Carey (2009) because we think it is a good exemplification of the skeptic approach taken. The strategy is to impute all the putative conceptual differences between speakers of different languages to the use of language. That is, they try to show that none of the experiments done until now shows that language has an impact on non-linguistic tasks. The possibility that subjects are using language in one way or another when performing the experimental tasks, according to these critics, has not been ruled out, and in fact it is the most likely explanation of the observed differences. Since the beginning of the revival of LR, it has been assumed that nothing would ever count as evidence for LR if the task was resolved linguistically. So, critics want to maintain that there is as yet no evidence for LR. Lucy (1992) was the first to argue that researchers in this area should be very cautious and design experiments such that they could be certain that the task to be solved was purely non-linguistic. Previous attempts at testing LR were clearly below the standard Lucy imposed, and most of them tested just language-to-language influences, a circular and non-informative thing. Lucy himself carried out a set of experiments that, according to him, met his own demands. As we explained above, some languages, like English, have the count/mass distinction, whereas others, like Tzeltzal, a Mayan language, have only mass terms. Lucy speculated that Tzeltzal-speakers would be more sensitive to substances than to forms, so he told his subjects to classify an array of objects in pairs that would be "the same". Tzeltzal speakers tended to classify in terms of substance, while English speakers classified more in terms of shape. Li et al. (2009) replicated Lucy's experiments with languages with and without count terms, but they also run several other experiments in order to put Lucy's results in context. Two are particularly significant. In the first, they presented subjects with a group of items of different substances and shapes. Then they asked subjects about each of the items whether the item was an object or a substance. Even though they had found out that speakers of different languages tended to classify those very items following different patterns –similarity of shape vs. shared substance– responses to their question were uniform: speakers of different languages are by no means blind to the distinction between objects and substances. The second experiment was an elaboration on Lucy's. Subjects had to classify items in terms of "being the same". However, instead of telling subjects: "look at this; which is the same?" (Lucy's original experiment), they asked them: "look at this blicket; which is the blicket?". That is, they introduced a neutral name in a neutral construction so that the name could be denoting either a substance or a countable object. The results were similar to those obtained in the replication of Lucy's experiment. Now, Li et al.'s hypothesis is that in this new experiment subjects make use of linguistic knowledge to answer the questions. In English, nouns are typically countable, so when a new name is introduced, English speakers tend to assume that it is referring to a countable object. In the Mayan language the pattern is reversed. They call this effect "lexical statistics". Now, they suggest that in the non-labeling condition, i.e., in Lucy's experimental setting, subjects could be also making use of lexical statistical knowledge: words like 'this' and 'same' may elicit associations similar to the associations elicited by nouns. So, it may be that, after all, what Lucy tested for was an influence of language over language. Note, however, that language may be more active in our mental life than we think. For instance, take the case of color categorization. There has been a long debate about whether color categorization can be influenced by language. Recent research on lateralization studies, aided by fMRI experiments (see Regier and Kay 2009), suggests that there is indeed an impact of color language on color categorical discrimination, but that this impact is lateralized, restricted to the right visual field and so to the left hemisphere. In fact, it seems that the reason why language can have an impact on color categorization is that the language system itself is active in the color categorization tasks that involve the right visual field: Experiments that involve a linguistic interference, plus the aforementioned fMRI studies, give support to this hypothesis. Regier and colleagues, besides, look convinced that this pattern of results should be exportable to other categorization domains (Regier and Kay 2009, Regier et al. 2010). Lately, it has been argued that even 2-year-olds make use of internal, probably unconscious, labeling all the time (Khan et al., submitted), and so that language is playing some role or another in cognition most of the time. This suggests that it may be difficult to separate purely cognitive tasks from tasks where language is involved, but also that it may be asking too much for the defender of LR to spot a purely cognitive task not influenced by language. If it happens that we use language one way or another all the time and for everything, doesn't that show that, after all, language shapes cognition? Conclusion Despite the evidence amassed in the last two decades, it seems simply impossible to render a verdict on the issue of whether language shapes our conceptual structure. We have told the arguments and evidence presented by representative authors and works of three approaches: enthusiastic, moderate, and skeptic. We saw that the three camps have found some support for their respective positions, but that the issue is far from having reached any kind of consensus. We also raised some questions that we regard as interesting or intriguing for each of the three contenders or related to their views. The literature on language and thought is now incredibly vast, growing exponentially, and has connections with very many other central issues in cognitive science. This, of course, is no surprise, because the role of language in conceptualization is one of the major questions in the research on the human mind. We think there is reason to be optimistic as regards the decades to come. In that, we are on the optimistic camp. Acknowledgements This paper is thoroughly collaborative. Order of authorship is arbitrary. The authors' research was funded by the Spanish Ministry of Economy and Competitiveness (FFI2010-15717 to A.V., FFI2011-30074-C02-01&2, to F.M. and A.V. respectively). References Bloom, P. and F. C. Keil. 2001. Thinking through language. Mind and Language 16: 351-67. Boroditsky, L., L. Schmidt and W. Phillips. 2003. Sex, syntax and semantics. In Gentner and Goldin-Meadow (2003), 61-80. Carey, S. 2009. The Origin of Concepts. New York: Oxford University Press. Carruthers, P. 2002. The cognitive functions of language. Behavioral and Brain Sciences 25 (6): 657-726. Carruthers, P. 2011. Language in cognition. In The Oxford Handbook of Philosophy of Cognitive Science, edited by E. Margolis, R. Samuels, and S. Stich, 382-401. New York: Oxford University Press. Casasanto, D. 2008. Who's afraid of the Big Bad Whorf? Cross-linguistic differences in temporal language and thought. Language Learning 58: 63-79. Casasanto, D., and L. Boroditsky. 2008. Time in the mind: Using space to think about time. Cognition 106: 579-93. Casasanto, D. and R. Bottini. 2010. Can mirror-reading reverse the flow of time? In Spatial Cognition VII , edited by C. Hölscher, T. F. Shipley, M. Olivetti Belardinelli, J. A. Bateman, and N. S. Newcombe, 335-45. Berlin Heidelberg: Springer. Casasola, M. 2005. Can language do the driving? The effect of linguistic input on infants' categorization of support spatial relations. Developmental Psychology 41: 183-92. Chin, J. M. and J. W. Schooler. 2008. Why do words hurt? Content, process, and criterion shift accounts of verbal overshadowing. European Journal of Cognitive Psychology 20: 396-413. Dewar, K. M., and Xu, F. 2009. Do early nouns refer to kinds or distinct shapes? Evidence from 10-month-old infants. Psychological Science 20: 252-57. Evans, V. 2009. How Words Mean: Lexical Concepts, Cognitive Models and Meaning Construction. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Fodor, J. 1975. The Language of Thought. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Gelman, S . and E.M. Markman. 1986. Categories and induction in young children. Cognition 23: 183-209. Gelman, S. and E. M. Markman. 1987. Young children's induction from natural kinds: The role of categories and appearances. Child Development 58: 1532-41. Gentner, D. and S. Goldin-Meadow, eds. 2003. Language in Mind: Advances in the Study of Language and Thought. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Gleitman, L., and A. Papafragou. 2005. Language and thought. In Cambridge Handbook of Thinking and Reasoning, edited by K. Holyoak and R. Morrison, 633-61. Cambridge University Press. Gomila, A. 2012. Verbal Minds: Language and the Architecture of Cognition. Elsevier: London. Gopnik, A. and D. Sobel 2000. Detecting blickets: How young children use information about novel causal powers in categorization and induction. Child Development 71: 1205-22. Gordon, P. 2004. Numerical cognition without words: Evidence from Amazonia. Science 306: 496-9. Gordon, P. 2010. Worlds without words: Commensurability and causality in language, culture and cognition. In Malt and Wolff (2010), 199-218. Graham, S. A., C. S., Kilbreath and A. N. Welder. 2004. 13-month-olds rely on shared labels and shape similarity for inductive inferences. Child Development 75: 40927. Graham, S.A. and C.S. Kilbreath 2007. It's a sign of the kind: Gestures and words guide infants' inductive inferences. Developmental Psychology 43(5): 1111-23. Gumperz, J. and Levinson, S. eds. 1996. Rethinking Linguistic Relativity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hespos, S. J. and E. S. Spelke 2004. Conceptual precursors to spatial language. Nature 430: 453-6. Jackendoff, R. 2012. A User's Guide to Thought and Meaning. Oxford University Press. Joseph, J. E. 1996. The immediate sources of the 'Sapir-Whorf hypothesis'. Historiographia Linguistica 23, 365-404. Karmiloff-Smith, A. 1992. Beyond Modularity: a Developmental Perspective on Cognitive Science. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Khan, M., A. Geojo, S. Wang, and J. Snedeker (submitted) Spontaneous Verbal Labeling in 24-month-old Infants: http://scholar.harvard.edu/khan/publications/spontaneous-verbal-labeling-24month-old-infants. (17/8/2013). Kousta, S.-T., D. P. Vinson and G. Vigliocco. 2008. Investigating linguistic relativity through bilingualism: The case of grammatical gender. Journal of Experimental Psychology: Learning, Memory, and Cognition 34 (4): 843–58. Landau, B., B. Dessalegn and A. M. Goldberg. 2010. Language and space: Momentary interactions. In Language, cognition, and space: The state of the art and new directions, edited by P. Chilton and V. Evans, 51-78. London: Equinox. Levinson, S. 1997. From outer to inner space: linguistic categories and non-linguistic thinking. In Language and Conceptualization, edited by J. Nuyts and E. Pederson, 13-45. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Levinson, S. 2003. Language and mind: Let's get the issues straight. In Gentner and Goldin-Meadow (2003), 25-46. Li, P., L. Abarbanell, L. Gleitman and A. Papafragou. 2011. Spatial reasoning in Tenejapan Mayans. Cognition 120: 33-53. Li, P., Y. Dunham and S. Carey. 2009. Of substance: The nature of language effects on entity construal. Cognitive Psychology 58: 487-524. Li., P., and L. Gleitman. 2002. Turning the tables: language and spatial reasoning. Cognition 83(3): 265-94. Long C., X. Lu , L. Zhang, H. Li , G.O. Deák. 2012. Category label effects on Chinese children's inductive inferences: modulation by perceptual detail and category specificity. Journal of Experimental Child Psychology 11: 230-45. Lucy, J. 1992. Language Diversity and Thought. New York: Cambridge University Press. Lucy, J. and S. Gaskins. 2001. Grammatical Categories and the Development of Classification Preferences: A Comparative Approach. In Language Acquisition and Conceptual Development, edited by S. Levinson and M. Bowerman, 257-83. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Majid, A., M. Bowerman, S. Kita, D. B.M. Haun and S. Levinson. 2004. Can language restructure cognition? The case for space. Trends in Cognitive Sciences 8 (3): 108-14. Malt, B., S. Sloman and S. Gennari 2003. Speaking versus thinking about objects and actions. In Gentner and Goldin-Meadow (2003), 81-112. Malt, B. and Wolff, P. eds. 2010. Words and the Mind: How words capture human experience. New York: Oxford University Press. Malt, B., Ameel, E., Gennari, S., Imai, M., Saji, N., and Majid, A. 2011. Do words reveal concepts? In Proceedings of the 33rd Annual Conference of the Cognitive Science Society, edited by L. Carlson, C. Hölscher, and T. Shipley, 519-24. Austin, TX: Cognitive Science Society. McDonough, L., S. Choi and J. Mandler. 2003. Understanding spatial relations: Flexible infants, lexical adults. Cognitive Psychology 46: 229–59. Memon, A. and C. A. Meissner. 2002. Special issue: Investigations of the effects of verbalization on memory, Applied Cognitive Psychology, 16(8). Mithen, S. 1995. The Prehistory of Mind. London: Thames and Hudson. Papafragou, A., J. Hulbert, and J. Trueswell. 2008. Does language guide event perception? Evidence from eye movements. Cognition 108: 155-84. Pederson, E. 1995. Language as context, language as means: Spatial cognition and habitual language use. Cognitive Linguistics 6: 33-62. Pinker, S. 2007. The Stuff of Thought. New York: Viking. Regier, T. and P. Kay. 2009. Language, thought, and color: Whorf was half right. Trends in Cognitive Sciences 13: 439-46. Regier, T., P. Kay, A. L. Gilbert, R. B. Ivry. 2010. Language and thought: Which side are you on, anyway? In Malt and Wolff (2010), 165-82. Russell, J. A. and S. C. Widen. 2002. A label superiority effect in children's categorization of facial expressions. Social Development 11: 30-52. Sera, M. D., C. Elieff, M. C. Burch, J. Forbes and W. Rodríguez. 2002. When language affects cognition and when it does not: An analysis of grammatical gender and classification. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General 131: 377-97. Shusterman, A., S.A. Lee and E. Spelke. 2011. Cognitive effects of language on human navigation. Cognition, 120: 186-201. Slobin, D. I. 1996. From "thought and language" to "thinking for speaking." In Gumperz and Levinson (1996), 70-96. Sloutsky, V. M. and Lo Y-F. 1999. How much does a shared name make things similar? Part 1. Linguistic labels and the development of similarity judgments. Developmental Psychology 35: 1478-92. Spelke, E. 2003. What makes us smart? Core knowledge and natural language. In Gentner and Goldin-Meadow (eds.), 277-312. Talmy, L. 1985. Lexicalization patterns: semantic structure in lexical forms. In Language typology and syntactic description, second edition. Vol. III: Grammatical categories and the lexicon, edited by T. Shopen, 57-149. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Vicente, A. and F. Martínez-Manrique 2005. Semantic underdetermination and the cognitive uses of language. Mind and Language 20: 537-58. Vicente, A. and F. Martínez‐Manrique 2008. Thought, language, and the argument from explicitness. Metaphilosophy 39: 381-401. Waxman, S. R. and I. Braun 2005. Consistent (but not variable) names as invitations to form object categories: New evidence from 12-month-old infants. Cognition 95: 59-68. Waxman, S. R. and D. B. Markow 1995. Words as invitations to form categories: Evidence from 12to 13-month-old infants. Cognitive Psychology,29: 257–302. Weiskopf, D. 2008. The origins of concepts. Philosophical Studies 140: 359-84. Welder, A. N. and S. A. Graham 2001. The influences of shape similarity and shared labels on infants' inductive inferences about nonobvious object properties. Child Development 72: 1653-73. Xu, F. 2002. The role of language in acquiring kind concepts in infancy. Cognition 85: 223-50. Xu, F. 2007. Sortal concepts, object individuation, and language. Trends in Cognitive Sciences 11: 400-6.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
for health benefits in the same cohort.1 We did not observe a dose-response relationship between moderate-intensity and vigorous-intensity physical activity and all-cause mortality risk in "insufficiently active weekend warriors" who reported 1 or 2 sessions per week but did not meet physical activity guidelines of at least 150 minutes per week of moderate-intensity aerobic activity or at least 75 minutes per week of vigorousintensity aerobic activity. We did observe a linear trend when investigating total physical activity of any intensity. We concluded that some of the health benefits might be explained by nonexercise activity, such as light-intensity walking. More than 40% of the weekend warriors were in desk-bound occupations, and we would suggest that participation in sport and exercise at the weekend is enough to increase cardiorespiratory fitness and to reduce the mortality risk associated with the sedentary lifestyle of Western societies. We thank Lam and colleagues for their letter too. They suggested that air pollution was subject to geographical variation and that air pollution was a relevant confounding variable. We did not adjust for air pollution; however, the available evidence suggests that air pollution is only related to lung cancer mortality.2 Lam and colleagues also suggested that treatment availability was subject to geographical variation and that treatment availability was also a pertinent confounding variable. There is some evidence of a North-South divide in health care in the United Kingdom; however, socioeconomic factors may explain differences in physical activity3 and other exposures and outcomes.4,5 Compared with the inactive participants in our study, the hazard ratio for cancer mortality was 0.79 (95% CI, 0.66-0.94) in the regularly active and 0.82 (95% CI, 0.63-1.06) in the weekend warriors after adjustment for age, sex, smoking habit, longstanding illness, and socioeconomic status (the regularly active reported ≥150 minutes/wk in moderate-intensity aerobic activity or ≥75 minutes/wk in vigorousintensity aerobic activity from ≥3 sessions; the weekend warriors reported the same amounts of activity per week from 1 or 2 sessions). Lam and colleagues mentioned a clustering effect in our subsample. The core sample is weighted so that it might be representative of the population living in private households.6 When we have weighted the subsample, it has had little bearing on the association between physical activity and mortality. Gary O'Donovan, PhD Mark Hamer, PhD Emmanuel Stamatakis, PhD Author Affiliations: School of Sport, Exercise, and Health Sciences, National Centre for Sport & Exercise Medicine–East Midlands, Loughborough University, Loughborough, England (O'Donovan, Hamer); Department of Epidemiology and Public Health, University College London, London, England (Hamer, Stamatakis); Charles Perkins Centre, Prevention Research Collaboration, School of Public Health, University of Sydney, Sydney, Australia (Stamatakis). Corresponding Author: Gary O'Donovan, PhD, School of Sport, Exercise, and Health Sciences, National Centre for Sport & Exercise Medicine–East Midlands, Loughborough University, Loughborough LE11 3TU, United Kingdom (g [email protected]). Conflict of Interest Disclosures: None reported. Additional Contributions: We thank I-Min Lee for her comments on the first draft of our Letter in Reply. She was not compensated. 1. Hamer M, O'Donovan G, Lee IM, Stamatakis E. The "weekend warrior" physical activity pattern: how little is enough? Br J Sports Med. 2017;pii: bjsports-2017-097538. doi:10.1136/bjsports-2017-097538 2. Cohen AJ, Brauer M, Burnett R, et al. Estimates and 25-year trends of the global burden of disease attributable to ambient air pollution: an analysis of data from the Global Burden of Diseases Study 2015. Lancet. 2017;389(10082): 1907-1918. doi:10.1016/S0140-6736(17)30505-6 3. Roth M. Self-reported physical activity in adults. In: Craig R, Mindell J, Hirani V, eds. Health Survey for England 2008, Volume 1: Physical activity and fitness. London: National Centre for Social Research; 2008:21-58. 4. Beard E, Brown J, West R, Angus C, Kaner E, Michie S. Healthier central England or North-South divide? Analysis of national survey data on smoking and high-risk drinking. BMJ Open. 2017;7(3):e014210. 5. GBD 2015 Risk Factors Collaborators. Global, regional, and national comparative risk assessment of 79 behavioural, environmental and occupational, and metabolic risks or clusters of risks, 1990-2015: a systematic analysis for the Global Burden of Disease Study 2015. Lancet. 2016;388(10053): 1659-1724. 6. Craig R, Mindell J, Hirani V. Weighting the data. In: Craig R, Mindell J, Hirani V, eds. Health Survey for England 2008, Volume 2: Methods and Documentation. London: National Centre for Social Research; 2010:24-29. Discrepant Expectations About Benefits and Harms To the Editor The systematic review by Hoffmann and Del Mar1 in a recent issue of JAMA Internal Medicine showed robust but sad evidence that most health care professionals divergently misconceive benefits and harms of their interventions (treatments, screenings, tests) and deserves comment. First, the various explanations have overlooked (1) an enduring but obvious innumeracy2 and (2) illiteracy that is not openly acknowledged. In their review, Hoffmann and Del Mar rightly used the terms "benefits" and "harms," but PubMed search results reach 2818 for "benefit-risk"and 1159 for "benefit/ risk" vs 8 for "potential benefit" and "risk of harm" combined, 123 for "benefit-harm," and 33 for "benefit/harm." When health care professionals intervene, benefits are guaranteed while harms are only a "potential risk". Second, solutions for shared decision making with patients should have been mentioned. For example, evidence-based tools with simple pictographs showing absolute numbers and consistent denominators (ie, per 1000 persons), time frames, and visuals using the same scale for information on benefits and harms of the options would have been helpful,3 as would resources like the Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Trust Fund (http://www .pcori.org/research-results/2013/development-and-usertesting-decision-aid-ventricular-assist-device-placement) and the Harding Center for Risk Literacy (https://www.mpib-berlin .mpg.de/en/research/harding-center) which provide patient independence through risk assessment, a critical issue.4 SHARE-IT (http://magicproject.org/research-projects/shareit/) is a project still in development and wrongly uses the benefit and/or risk semantics. Last, underestimation of harms and overestimation of benefits is a much wider problem. Regulatory agencies grant market approvals for drugs faster and faster on surrogate end points without clinical relevance while market withdrawal is often unreasonably delayed, even in the case of drug-related deaths.5 Alain Braillon, MD, PhD Letters jamainternalmedicine.com (Reprinted) JAMA Internal Medicine August 2017 Volume 177, Number 8 1225 © 2017 American Medical Association. All rights reserved. Downloaded From: by a University of Toronto Libraries User on 01/24/2018 Author Affiliation: University Hospital, Amiens, France. Corresponding Author: Alain Braillon, MD, PhD, University Hospital, Ave Laennec, Amiens, Picardie 80000, France ([email protected]). Conflict of Interest Disclosures: None reported. 1. Hoffmann TC, Del Mar C. Clinicians' expectations of the benefits and harms of treatments, screening, and tests: a systematic review [published online January 9, 2017]. JAMA Intern Med. doi:10.1001/jamainternmed.2016.8254 2. Peters E, Hibbard J, Slovic P, Dieckmann N. Numeracy skill and the communication, comprehension, and use of risk-benefit information. Health Aff (Millwood). 2007;26(3):741-748. 3. Braillon A, Bewley S. Shared decision-making for cancer screening: visual tools and a 4-step method. JAMA Intern Med. 2015;175(11):1862. 4. Barry MJ. The prostate cancer treatment bazaar: comment on "physician visits prior to treatment for clinically localized prostate cancer". Arch Intern Med. 2010;170(5):450-452. 5. Braillon A, Menkes DB. Balancing accelerated approval for drugs with accelerated withdrawal. JAMA Intern Med. 2016;176(4):566-567. To the Editor We appreciate the systematic review by Hoffmann and Del Mar1 in a recent issue of JAMA Internal Medicine estimating the accuracy of physicians' expectations of benefits and harms and worry with them that inaccuracies may lead to suboptimal medical care. Nonetheless, we are concerned that their approach might obscure rather than illuminate the measurement of physicians' predictive accuracy and its implications. Surveys and questionnaires based on clinical vignettes or "typical patients" provide us with a measure of agreement between clinician estimates and those published in the literature for standard target populations. This information is important because it tells us about clinicians' awareness-and perhaps acceptance-of relevant research data. However, there are 2 main reasons why these kinds of studies ought to be interpreted as rough indicators and do not necessarily answer the question of whether clinicians truly tend to underestimate harms and overestimate benefits as the authors conclude. First, there is increasing recognition that the degree of transportability of research estimates to different populations and settings, as well as their stability over time, cannot be taken for granted.2,3 While in some cases this concern might be addressed by accepting a credible range surrounding the point estimate, in other cases it might be safer not to assume transportability and further investigate variance in local base rates before inferring inaccuracy from the presence of high variance in clinicians' predictions.4 Second, because expectations of benefit and harm are in practice relative to actual patients with various idiosyncrasies and real settings, physicians' predictive accuracy ought to be estimated in the field.5 While the accuracy of physicians as a group can be measured cross-sectionally with respect to a theoretical reference standard, for purposes of service improvement it might be far more informative to investigate individual physicians' calibration longitudinally by generating a track record of correct or incorrect predictions for samples of patients with particular conditions. Of course, we accept that the study of physicians' risk estimates in the real word is more complicated and expensive than relying on theoretical cases. However, if our aim is to improve medical care, our actions ought to be informed by relevant and methodologically sound evidence, which is, after all, the central premise behind the systematic review by Hoffmann and Del Mar.1 Luis José Flores, MD, MA, PhD Jonathan Fuller, PhD Author Affiliations: Department of Philosophy, King's College London, London, United Kingdom (Flores); Department of Psychiatry, Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile, Santiago, Chile (Flores); Faculty of Medicine, University of Toronto, Toronto, Canada (Fuller). Corresponding Author: Luis José Flores, MD, MA, PhD, Department of Philosophy, King's College London, Philosophy Bldg King's College London, Strand, Rm 507, London, WC2R 2LS, England ([email protected]). Conflict of Interest Disclosures: None reported. 1. Hoffmann TC, Del Mar C. Clinicians' expectations of the benefits and harms of treatments, screening, and tests: a systematic review. JAMA Intern Med. 2017; 177(3):407-419. doi:10.1001/jamainternmed.2016.8254 2. Bareinboim E, Pearl J. Causal inference and the data-fusion problem. Proc Natl Acad Sci U S A. 2016;113(27):7345-7352. doi:10.1073/pnas.1510507113 3. Siontis GC, Tzoulaki I, Castaldi PJ, Ioannidis JP. External validation of new risk prediction models is infrequent and reveals worse prognostic discrimination. J Clin Epidemiol. 2015;68(1):25-34. doi:10.1016/j.jclinepi.2014.09.007 4. Humphreys K, Blodgett JC, Roberts LW. The exclusion of people with psychiatric disorders from medical research. J Psychiatr Res. 2015;70:28-32. doi:10.1016/j.jpsychires.2015.08.005 5. Stein J, Louie J, Flanders S, et al. Performance characteristics of clinical diagnosis, a clinical decision rule, and a rapid influenza test in the detection of influenza infection in a community sample of adults. Ann Emerg Med. 2005;46 (5):412-419. In Reply We thank Dr Braillon for his comments. First, we agree that innumeracy and naiveté about clinical epidemiology concepts are some of the underlying contributions to the misperceptions that we report in our systematic review.1 Clinician illiteracy in health statistics has been articulated previously.2,3 However, we disagree that the benefits of interventions are certain while the harms are only a potential risk. Few interventions have certain benefits: there is both the chance of benefit and the chance of harm from most interventions. Second, we agree, as we mention in our article,1 that shared decision making is part of the solution. While there are various risk communication strategies, tools, and resources that can be used to facilitate this, word limits precluded us from elaborating on these. Finally, we also agree that the issue of accurate knowledge about intervention benefit and harm extends beyond clinicians' knowledge and is influenced by what occurs (or does not occur) in other contexts, such as regulatory agencies, and the phases before the research knowledge filters to clinicians. Efficient access to accurate and up-todate knowledge about intervention benefits and harms is desperately needed because current knowledge generation and dissemination systems are flawed and a patchwork of reactive and ad hoc solutions. We also thank Drs Sepulveda and Fuller for their comments and concerns about the use of clinical vignettes in some of the primary studies included in our review.1 We agree that such responses provide information about clinician awareness, and possibly acceptance, of research data about benefits Letters 1226 JAMA Internal Medicine August 2017 Volume 177, Number 8 (Reprinted) jamainternalmedicine.com © 2017 American Medical Association. All rights reserved. Downloaded From: by a University of Toronto Libraries User on 01/24/2018 and harms, but that "real world" use of such data are tricky, and some caution is needed when considering extrapolating from research estimates to other settings and populations. We acknowledge that the ideal method for assessing the accuracy of people's risk perception estimates have not been identified and that across the studies included in our review,1 and our review of patient expectations,4 a variety of methods to measure this were used, most of which are unvalidated and suggest that more research evaluating various methods is needed. The second comment by Drs Sepulveda and Fuller-that collecting data from real settings, presumably from recording what clinicians predict about the likely benefits and harms of clinical management options under consideration with actual patients-is an interesting idea to explore with research. Our search found no studies that used an approach like this. The article they cite as an exemplar5 (which studied the diagnostic ability of clinicians in an emergency department or urgent care clinic to distinguish influenza from influenzalike illness, and compared the performance of clinical judgement, a rapid diagnostic test and a clinical prediction rule, against a laboratory gold standard) does not measure quantification of the benefits or harms of clinical management; hence this study does not meet the criteria for inclusion in our systematic review.1 Tammy C. Hoffmann, PhD Chris Del Mar, MD, FRACGP Author Affiliations: Centre for Research in Evidence-Based Practice, Faculty of Health Sciences and Medicine, Bond University, Queensland, Australia. Corresponding Author: Tammy C. Hoffmann, PhD, Centre for Research in Evidence-Based Practice, Faculty of Health Sciences and Medicine, Bond University, Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia 4229 ([email protected]). Conflict of Interest Disclosures: None reported. 1. Hoffmann TC, Del Mar C. Clinicians' expectations of the benefits and harms of treatments, screening, and tests: a systematic review [published online January 9, 2017]. JAMA Intern Med. doi:10.1001/jamainternmed.2016.8254 2. Gigerenzer G, Gaissmaier W, Kurz-Milcke E, Schwartz LM, Woloshin S. Helping doctors and patients make sense of health statistics. Psychol Sci Public Interest. 2007;8(2):53-96. 3. Wegwarth O, Schwartz LM, Woloshin S, Gaissmaier W, Gigerenzer G. Do physicians understand cancer screening statistics? a national survey of primary care physicians in the United States. Ann Intern Med. 2012;156(5):340-349. 4. Hoffmann TC, Del Mar C. Patients' expectations of the benefits and harms of treatments, screening, and tests: a systematic review. JAMA Intern Med. 2015; 175(2):274-286. 5. Stein J, Louie J, Flanders S, et al. Performance characteristics of clinical diagnosis, a clinical decision rule, and a rapid influenza test in the detection of influenza infection in a community sample of adults. Ann Emerg Med. 2005;46 (5):412-419. Facts Concerning Duexis Prescribing Habits Related to Combination Therapies To the Editor In their Viewpoint about high prices for drugs with generic alternatives specifically citing Duexis (Horizon Pharma) published in a recent issue of JAMA Internal Medicine, Hakim and Ross1 omitted important facts about Duexis and physician prescribing habits related to combination therapies. Although Hakim and Ross correctly noted that Duexis is approved for the relief of signs and symptoms of rheumatoid arthritis and osteoarthritis and to decrease the risk of developing upper gastrointestinal ulcers in patients who are taking ibuprofen for those indications, their Viewpoint1 created the misperception that the medication is a simple combination of 2 readily available medicines. In fact, Duexis is specially formulated to contain prescription strength ibuprofen and a protective core of famotidine at a higher dose because standard doses fail to provide gastric protection.2 The US Food and Drug Administration approved Duexis based on 2 randomized phase 3 clinical studies that enrolled more than 1500 patients.3 Moreover, the authors did not mention that the approval of Duexis marked a new indication for famotidine.3 Previously, famotidine was not approved to decrease the risk of developing upper gastrointestinal ulcers in patients taking ibuprofen or any other nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory (NSAID). Indeed, famotidine is still not approved as a standalone therapy or in combination with another active ingredient for this use (except in Duexis). There is no approved generic, over-thecounter, or clinically equivalent medicine except Duexis, which has been shown to provide gastroprotection. By providing the benefits of an NSAID and a gastroprotective medicine to reduce NSAID-induced upper gastrointestinal ulcers in a single pill, the risk of patient nonadherence for gastrointestinal protection is reduced. Data show that less than 25% of physicians coprescribe an NSAID and a medicine to reduce the frequency of the ulcers they may cause.4 The article also misstates Horizon Pharma's means of distributing its medicines. Horizon Pharma has never owned, does not currently own, and has no option to purchase any pharmacies. In the first half 0f 2016, our primary care medicines, including Duexis, were dispensed by approximately 20 000 regional, local, and retail pharmacies. As the health care system becomes increasingly complex, Horizon Pharma considers it our responsibility to ensure that patients receive the medicine their physicians prescribe and eliminate barriers to access. We hope that important topics such as patient access, clinical relevance, and unmet medical need again become the primary focus of the dialogue to enable physicians to make appropriate clinical decisions. Jeffrey Sherman, MD Author Affiliation: Horizon Pharma, Lake Forest, Illinois. Corresponding Author: Jeffrey Sherman, MD, Horizon Pharma, 150 S Saunders Rd, Lake Forest, IL 60045 ([email protected]). Conflict of Interest Disclosures: Dr Sherman is an employee of Horizon Pharma Inc. No other disclosures are reported. 1. Hakim A, Ross JS. High prices for drugs with generic alternatives: the curious case of Duexis. JAMA Intern Med. 2017;177(3):305-306. 2. Taha AS, Hudson N, Hawkey CJ, et al. Famotidine for the prevention of gastric and duodenal ulcers caused by nonsteroidal antiinflammatory drugs. N Engl J Med. 1996;334(22):1435-1439. 3. Laine L, Kivitz AJ, Bello AE, Grahn AY, Schiff MH, Taha AS. Double-blind randomized trials of single-tablet ibuprofen/high-dose famotidine vs. ibuprofen alone for reduction of gastric and duodenal ulcers. Am J Gastroenterol. 2012; 107(3):379-386. 4. Moore RA, Derry S, Phillips CJ, McQuay HJ. Nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs), cyxlooxygenase-2 selective inhibitors (coxibs) and gastrointestinal harm: review of clinical trials and clinical practice. BMC Musculoskelet Disord. 2006;7:79. Letters jamainternalmedicine.com (Reprinted) JAMA Internal Medicine August 2017 Volume 177, Number 8 1227 © 2017 American Medical Association. All rights reserved. Downloaded From: by a University of Toronto Libraries User on 01/24/
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
© LOGOS & EPISTEME, VIII, 1 (2017): 41-45 A NEW RESPONSE TO THE NEW EVIL DEMON PROBLEM Umut BAYSAN ABSTRACT: The New Evil Demon Problem is meant to show that reliabilism about epistemic justification is incompatible with the intuitive idea that the external-world beliefs of a subject who is the victim of a Cartesian demon could be epistemically justified. Here, I present a new argument that such beliefs can be justified on reliabilism. Whereas others have argued for this conclusion by making some alterations in the formulation of reliabilism, I argue that, as far as the said problem is concerned, such alterations are redundant. No reliabilist should fear the demon. KEYWORDS: dispositions, justification, The New Evil Demon Problem, reliabilism The New Evil Demon Problem, presented by Cohen,1 is meant to show that reliabilism of the sort that was defended by Goldman2 is incompatible with the intuitive idea that the external-world beliefs of a subject who is the victim of a Cartesian demon could be epistemically justified. The original argument goes as follows: (1) If reliabilism is true, no external-world belief of a victim of an evil demon could be justified. (2) Some external-world beliefs of the victims of an evil demon could be justified. (3) Therefore, reliabilism is false. One might think that there can't be much to add to the debate over the New Evil Demon Problem after more than thirty years of discussion. Nevertheless, there remains a prima facie plausible solution to this problem which hasn't been quite stated. In what follows, I shall present this solution. As formulated as an objection to reliabilism, the argument that is sketched above takes reliabilism to be the view that a belief is justified if and only if it is formed as a result of a reliable belief-forming process. I shall call this version of reliabilism crude reliabilism. Just to restate, (3) holds that crude reliabilism is false. 1 Stewart Cohen, "Justification and Truth," Philosophical Studies 46 (1984): 279-296. 2 Alvin Goldman, "What Is Justified Belief?" in Justification and Knowledge, ed. G. Pappas (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1979), 1-23. Umut Baysan 42 The reason for thinking that (1) is true is the following. Most (if not all) external-world beliefs of a victim of an evil demon are false because in demon worlds radical sceptical hypotheses are true: in a demon world, either there is no external world or the external world is radically different from the way it appears. Given the high frequency of false beliefs, the belief-forming processes of the habitants of demon worlds cannot be reliable; hence their beliefs cannot be epistemically justified. Or so the objector thinks. The intuition that supports (2), which I shall call the fairness intuition, is that in some cases, victims of an evil demon might be doing all the right things in order to hold true external-world beliefs. When they believe that there are trees and cats in their surroundings, they do so because they undergo perceptual experiences that are subjectively indistinguishable from those experiences which are truly caused by real trees and cats. In fact, a victim of an evil demon could be an epistemic counterpart of you, and we might suppose that you have mostly epistemically justified beliefs. Here, I take an epistemic counterpart of S at t1 to be someone whose beliefs are, as far as their narrow contents are concerned, typeidentical with the beliefs of S at t1, and are furthermore held for the same subjectively accessible reasons as those of S at t1. To illustrate: you believe at 11am today that it will rain; your reason for holding this belief is that you have a memory of the weather forecast reporting that it would rain. Your epistemic counterpart (as far as your temporal part at 11am today is concerned) believes that it will rain, and her reason for holding this belief is that she has a memory of the weather forecast reporting that it would rain. And it may be the case that whereas your belief is true, your epistemic counterpart's belief is false (or vice versa). The fairness intuition, I think correctly, suggests that if your beliefs are mostly justified, then your epistemic counterparts' beliefs should be mostly justified too. Assuming that you and your epistemic counterpart have the same reasons for holding same beliefs – you had the same perceptual experiences, have used the same inference rules, and so on – it is only fair to expect that your beliefs are justified if and only if your epistemic counterparts' beliefs are justified. Let me just briefly state what I will not argue for. I will not argue that crude reliabilism can be weakened, or relativised, or made indexical, in order to accommodate the fairness intuition. Strategies along those lines have been endorsed by others,3 and they do have their own virtues. But I believe that it is worth noting that such routes are redundant, at least as far as the New Evil Demon 3 Alvin Goldman, Epistemology of Cognition (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986) and Juan Comesaña, "The Diagonal and the Demon," Philosophical Studies 110 (2002): 249-266. A New Response to the New Evil Demon Problem 43 Problem is concerned. Crude reliabilism, without any further qualification, can accommodate the fairness intuition; we can formulate epistemic justification as the reliability of belief-forming processes, and still hold that our demonic epistemic counterparts' beliefs can be justified. The key is to recognise that 'reliable' is a dispositional concept and, arguably, reliability is a dispositional property – insofar as it is a real property and there are dispositional properties. If one has problems with the idea of dispositional properties, most of what I will say can be understood in a nondispositionalist framework. Take a true dispositional expression: "This vase is fragile." Why is this statement true? A full-blown realist about dispositional properties would say it is true because the vase that the "the vase" refers to is a bearer of the dispositional property of being fragile. Someone who is sceptical about dispositional properties, however, would say that the truth of this expression consists in the fact that the vase in question has some non-dispositional properties such that having those properties in the right circumstances makes it the case that the vase behaves in a fragile manner. The upshot is this: one needn't be a full-blown realist about dispositional properties in order to make sense of dispositional expressions. Now consider reliability as a dispositional property. Take a supposedly true dispositional expression, such as "Lily is reliable." Whereas a realist about dispositionalist properties would say that this expression is true in virtue of the fact that Lily instantiates a dispositional property, namely reliability, an antirealist about dispositional properties can still give a non-dispositional truthmaker about Lily for the said expression. I don't really want to be committed to any view about the reality or fundamentality of dispositional properties, but the points that I will make are easier to express with the resources of a dispositionalist view, so I will treat reliability as a dispositional property. Many sorts of things can be reliable, and likewise, unreliable: people, machines, newspapers, weather, Wi-Fi signals, belief-forming processes, so on and so forth. When I say that Lily is reliable, arguably, I am not referring to the very same property of reliability that I refer to when I say that the Wi-Fi signal is reliable. A person's reliability consists in her disposition to tell the truth (or what she takes to be the truth) and keep her promises in the right circumstances. When the circumstances are not right, however, a reliable person might be forced to lie, or break a promise. A belief-forming process's reliability consists in something quite different. Whereas the reliability of Lily is manifested in her telling the truth in the right circumstances, the reliability of a belief-forming process is manifested in the fact Umut Baysan 44 that beliefs that are formed as a result of that process are mostly true, again, in the right circumstances. A reliable belief-forming process is disposed to produce true beliefs. That is, the manifestation of the dispositional property reliability attributed to a belief-forming process is the truth of the belief that is formed. Unreliable belief-forming processes, such as wishful thinking, aren't disposed to produce true beliefs. Occasionally, the beliefs that are formed as a result of wishful thinking may turn out to be true. But this is not different from the occasional breaking of non-fragile vases. Such occasional breakings don't have to be miraculous. Vehicles like the Popemobile and the Batmobile have windows made of non-fragile glass, yet presumably they couldn't stay intact after an atomic bomb explosion. Our standards for non-fragility are not so high that only absolutely unbreakable things can be deemed non-fragile. Although the reliability of a person and the reliability of a belief-forming process might be different properties, the rules of the application of the predicate 'is reliable' to people and to belief-forming processes are similar in an interesting way. The similarity lies in the fact that one can be a bearer of a dispositional property without ever manifesting the disposition in question. Strictly speaking, it is possible for a reliable person to lie at all times. Admittedly, this sounds very odd; nevertheless it is true. It belongs to the concept of 'disposition' that dispositions needn't be manifested in order to be instantiated. There are fragile vases which are never broken, simply because they have never been struck. So, the following is a perfectly possible state of affairs: (i) a is fragile; a is not struck; a doesn't break. But more strangely, there could be fragile vases that are never broken, despite being struck and dropped multiple times. Think of the case of the sorcerer who is the guardian of a fragile vase.4 Every time the vase is struck, the sorcerer casts a spell on it so that it resists the strike. The vase in question still counts as fragile; if the sorcerer weren't guarding it, it would have manifested its fragility. (Note that this is true non-vacuously: the sorcerer is only contingently protecting the vase.) So, the following is a perfectly possible state of affairs too: (ii) a is fragile; a is struck many times; a doesn't break. Moving on from fragile vases to reliable people: consider the case of Lily. Lily is disposed to tell the truth, but for some reason, at every single attempt, she fails to do so. Maybe her actions are being manipulated by the Purple Man, who is a master of mind-control. Lily wants to tell the truth; she genuinely intends to do 4 David Lewis, "Finkish Dispositions," Philosophical Quarterly 47 (1997): 143-158. A New Response to the New Evil Demon Problem 45 so, but every time she speaks, she lies. She, I stipulate, is still reliable, but she is not manifesting her reliability, because she is being controlled by the Purple Man. If the Purple Man weren't manipulating her actions, Lily would have told the truth. (Again, this is true non-vacuously: the Purple Man is only contingently manipulating Lily's decisions.) So, the following is a possible state of affairs: (iii) a is a reliable person; a is asked if P is true; a knows that P is true; a says that P is false; this happens systematically. I hope I have convinced you that (ii) and (iii) are possible states of affairs. If you still have doubts, remember that dispositions require right circumstances in order to be manifested in the right way. By introducing sorcerers and mindcontrolling supervillains, we are departing from right circumstances. Now, beliefs. A belief forming-process may be disposed to produce true beliefs, but for whatever reason, at every attempt, it may fail to do so. As I hope is clear from the discussion so far, all we need to do is depart from the right circumstances. In a demon world, what is happening is exactly this. The deeds of the evil demon change the circumstances so the belief-forming processes, however reliable they are, are not manifesting their reliabilities. So, the following is also a perfectly possible state of affairs: (iv) a is a reliable belief-forming process; a is exercised; a doesn't produce true beliefs; this happens systematically. Now if (iv) is really a possible states of affairs, premise (1) of the argument above is false: one can be a crude reliabilist about epistemic justification and still hold that external-world beliefs in a demon world can be epistemically justified. If all this is right, then it appears that crude reliabilism doesn't have to be weakened or relativised in order to accommodate the fairness intuition. What needs to be done is to recognise that reliability is a dispositional property and remember that dispositions can be held without ever being manifested. If I am right, crude reliabilism, a version of reliabilism which has been abandoned partly due to worries about the New Evil Demon Problem, actually has the resources to deal with this problem. I showed a hitherto unexplored and prima facie plausible logical space where both crude reliabilism and the fairness intuition are true.5 5 Acknowledgments. Many thanks to Robert Cowan and Martin Smith for discussion and comments on a previous version of the paper. This publication was made possible through the support of a grant from the John Templeton Foundation. The opinions expressed in this publication are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the John Templeton Foundation.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
GEOMETRlA Y ALTERIDAD EN KANT MARfA INES Cocco y EDUARDO DANIEL DIB UNIVERSIDAD DE BUENOS AIRES ARGENTINA Introducci6n En su juventud, y con anterioridad al desarrollo de la filosofia critica, Kant manifest6 su entusiasmo por una geometria de todos los tipos posibles de espacio, y no s610 del espacio conocido. Como esos tipos de espacio Kant los referia cada uno a un mundo posible, 1 distinto, es razonable perisar que la "geometria suprema'} como Kant la denomin6, en realidad era el nombre generico para un conjunto de geometrias diversas que describen espacios igualmente diversos. Entre ese conjunto generico se encuentra la geometria de Euc1ides, y cabe preguntarse si esta es la tinica especie conocida por nosotros. lAcaso entre las otras geometrias no podrian encontrarse las que hoy conocemos como no euc1fdeas, desarrolladas por Gauss, Bolyai-Lobachevsky y Riemann? Creemos que no es asi, y es 10 que nos proponemos mostrar en este trabajo. Sostendremos, por 10tanto, la distinci6n entre las denominaciones "otras geometrias" y "geometrias no euc1ideas" y desarrollaremos la incompatibilidad entre ambas tal como esta se sigue de los textos de Kant. Intentaremos asimismo una caracterizaci6n de las "otras geometrias" con base en la noci6n de "espacio habitado", por nosotros ... 0 por otros, por los posibles habitantes de otros universos 0 de otras regiones de este mismo. Asi, las "otras geometrias" quiza podrian ser comprendidas mejor si las vieramos como geometrias de los otros (0 de la alteridad), que si las tratamos de confundir con las geometrias no euc1ideas. Finalmente, expondremos la vinculaci6n de la alteridad con la noci6n de "n6umeno". Desarrollaremos nuestro tema en cuatro secciones, comentando los textos siguientes: en la primera secci6n, Pensamientos sobre la verdadera estimaci6n de las Juerzas vivas; en la segunda, Sobre el Jundamento primero de 1 En sentido leibniziano. 2 "Die hochste Geometrie". 138 MARiA INES COCCO Y EDUARDO DANIEL D1B la diferenda entre las regiones del espacio, mas conocido como el Articulo del '68; en la tercera, la Critica de la raz6n pura; yen la cuarta, Historia general de la naturaleza y teoria del cielo. En la secci6n 1veremos que Kant creia en la posibilidad de otros universos con prapiedades espaciales distintas de las del universo actual. Esta posibilidad determina la noci6n de alteridad en el Kant precritico. Las propiedades mencionadas no parecen identificables con las propiedades descritas por las geometrias no euclideas. Tempranamente la alteridad, en 10 referido al espacio, aparece como plenamente posible, aunque tambien como dificilmente cognoscible desde el punto de vista de la situaci6n humana. En la secci6n 2 nos detenemos a considerar el Articulo del '68. Encontramos que nada aporta a la confrontaci6n de las "otras geometrias" de Kant con las geometrias no euclideas, asi como tam poco hace contribuci6n alguna al tema de la alteridad. Esta constataci6n es necesaria dada la importancia del articulo como referente infaltable en la caracterizaci6n de la doctrina precritica del espacio. En la secci6n 3 encontramos que la filosofia critica s610 suministra bases para concebir el espacio segun la geometria de Euclides. Pero tarnbien queda sugerida la posibilidad de otros seres racionales para los cuales las condiciones a priori de la sensibilidad poseerian una estructura diferente, posibilidad que establece el tema de alteridad en la Critica. En la secci6n 4 descubrimos que Kant consideraba la existencia de otros seres racionales mas bien una posibilidad real que una mera posibilidad 16gica,10cual, conociendo la importancia de la distinci6n entre ambos tipos de posibilidad, corrobora la relevancia que tiene el tema de la alteridad en el contexto de la filosofia kantiana. 1. Pensamientos sobre la verdadera estimaci6n de las Juerzas vivas En esta obra, Kant conjetura que las "propiedades de la extension" (0 sea, del espacio) tienen un fundamento, y que este es la ley de gravitaci6n universal, que afirma que la fuerza de atraccion entre dos cuerpos es directamente proporcional al producto de sus masas e inversamente praporcional al cuadrado de la distancia que los separa. Esta concepci6n imp liea la prioridad onto16gica y causativa de las cosas sobre el espacio. las sustancias en el universe [... J del cual formamos parte tienen fuerzas esenciales [... J sus acciones se propagan [... J en proporcion inversa al cuadrado de las distancias [... J el todo resultante tiene [... J la propiedad de la tridimensionalidad. [... J esta ley es arbitraria y [... J Dios hubiera podido elegir otra [... J de otra ley se habria derivado una extension de otras propiedades y dimensiones. GEOMETRIA Y ALTERIDAD EN KANT 139 Una ciencia de todas estas posibles clases de espacios seria [... J la mas alta geometria abordable por un entendimiento finite." Se infiere de 10anterior que son posibles otras geometrias, cada una correspondiendo a cada tipo diferente de espacio." Sin embargo, hay motivos para pensar que estas "otras geometrias" no pueden ser las actuales geometnas no euclideas. Si todas las "propiedades de la extensi6n" dependen de la misma ley de atracci6n, entonces no seria posible pensar una ley distinta sin cambiar todas las propiedades simultaneamente, Todas las propiedades del espacio dependen causativamene de la ley de gravitaci6n con exclusividad. Modificando esa causa unica, necesariamente se modificarian todos los efectos (las distintas propiedades del espacio) que depend en de ella simultaneamente. 0 sea, la dimensionalidad y las "otras propiedades" estarian necesariamente coordinadas entre sf y no seria posible mantener constante a una de ellas mientras se varian las otras. Asi, no seria concebible un espacio con tres dimensiones, como el nuestro, pero con otras propiedades metricas, De esto ultimo es precisamente de 10 que tratan las geometrias de Riemann y Lobachevsky. Las propiedades metricas son relaciones entre las medidas que caracterizan a los objetos geometricos. Una metrica determinada define el sistema de relaciones cuantitativas que caracteriza a una geometria dada. Las relaciones se expresan en ecuaciones y el sistema formado por las mismas, 10 que llamamos metrica, constituye un calculo. En la geometria de Euclides, la suma de los angulos internos de un triangulo de lados rectos es siempre igual a 180°. Esta es una relaci6n fija entre objetos geornetricos expresada en forma de ecuaci6n. Es un ejemplo particular de propiedad metrica. En la geometria de Riemann dicha suma es siempre mayor que 180°, yen la de Bolyai-Lobachevsky es siempre menor que 180°. Las tres geometrias admiten modelos de n dimensiones, incluyendo el espacio tridimensional, 0 sea, que Riemann describia un espacio de tres dimensiones donde los angulos internos de un triangulo sumaban mas de 180°, YLobachevsky describia otro espacio tridimensional donde dichos angulos sumaban menos de 180°. Esto pone un ejemplo de 10que significa un espacio de tres dimensiones con propiedades metricas distintas de las del nuestro: un espacio donde la suma de los angulos internos de un triangulo de lados rectos es siempre diferente de 180°. Este argumento, que establece la diferencia entre las "otras geometrias" de Kant y las geometrias no euclideas, quedaria invalidado si fueran conce3 1. Kant, Pensamientos sobre la verdadera estimaci6n de lasfuerzas vivas, no. 10, pp. 35-36. (Las cursivas son nuestras.) 4 R. G6mez, "Kant, 1747lfil6sofo no euC\ideano?", p. 169. 140 MARiA INES COCCO Y EDUARDO DANIEL DlB bibles otros mundos posibles donde la causa de las propiedades espaciales no fuera la ley de atraccion. Pero Kant en 1747 profesaba la fe de Leibniz en la monadologfa.? y concebia los mundos posibles como formados de sustancias simples (0 sea, monadas) y sus enlaces mutuos. La diferencia con Leibniz es que los cambios en las sustancias no se piensan con respecto a una "arrnonia preestablecida", sino con respecto a la "fuerza activa" propia de cada sustancia. No existiria mundo alguno si esta fuerza no fuera operante: no se puede decir que algo sea parte de un todo si no esta enlazado de algun modo con las partes restantes [... J el universo es un ser [... J compuesto, ... 6 Es facil probar que no habria espacio ni extensi6n si las sustancias estuviesen desprovistas de fuerza para actuar fuera de si, Porque sin esta fuerza no hay enlace alguno; sin este tampoco orden y [... J sin este, tampoco espacio.? La fuerza con que actua una sustancia al asociarse a otras no puede concebirse sin una ley que se manifieste en la forma de su accion." Asi, no podemos concebir otros mundos sino como compuestos de rnonadas que interactiian desde una fuerza que es su componente esencial y cuya ley de accion determina el espacio y sus propiedades. Otras veces.? Kant se refiere iinicamente a "otras dimensiones" e ignora las "otras propiedades". Si suponemos que estas permanecen invariables, obtendriamos una serie de espacios euclideanos n dimensionales.l? Esta interpretacion no resultaria congruente con las otras secciones que ya analizamos. Por 10 tanto, conviene desecharla. Ya que esta secci6n particular nada dice acerca de las "otras propiedades", no es necesario suponer las mismas invariables. Aunque Kant no 10 indica explicitamente, podriamos preguntarnos si seria congruente con su doctrina hablar de espacios que compartan la misma dimensionalidad, pero con distintas propiedades metricas. Pensamos que no 10 seria. Kant piensa las "otras geometrias" en terminos de mundos 0 universos radicalmente separados. Lo unico que garantiza esa separacion con fuerza de necesidad es la diferencia en el mimero de 5 Cfr. en particular, I.Kant, Pensamientos sobre la verdadera estimaci6n de lasfuerzas vivas, nos. 1 y 2. Esta concepci6n tarnbien esta desarrollada en su obra de 1756, titulada precisamente la Monadolog{afisica. 6 I. Kant, Pensamientos sabre la verdadera estimaci6n de las fuerzas vivas, no. 8, p. 33. 7 lbid., no.9, p. 34. 8 lbid., no. 10, p. 35. 9 "Si es posible que haya extensiones de otras dimensiones, tambien es muy probable que Dios las haya puesto en alguna parte ... " (Ibid., p. 36 [las cursivas son nuestras].) 10 "Es razonable suponer que la 'geometria suprema' en que Kant piensa no es sino una geometria euclideana de n dimensiones" CR.Torretti, Kant, n. 277, p. 190). GEOMETRIA Y ALTERIDAD EN KANT 141 dimensiones. Por 10 tanto, debe haber un solo universo de n dimensiones, pues si hubiera mas, la separacion entre ellos no seria necesaria. II Tampoco sena posible que se diera la diversidad de propiedades dentro de un mismo universo, porque la ley de atraccion es una caracterlstica esencial, 0 sea universal, de la sustancia. Dicha universalidad garantiza la homogeneidad del espacio. Asimismo, todo espacio de tres dimensiones tend ria las mismas propiedades que el que conocemos, ya que la ley de gravitacion que 10 cause debera ser identica a nuestra ley de Newton, y como de causas iguales se siguen efectos iguales, esta ley de gravitacion causara que las otras propiedades tarnbien sean iguales a las del espacio que conocemos. No hay indicios de que por "otras propiedades" Kant se refiriera espedficamente a propiedades metricas, Probable mente se referia a cualquier propiedad imaginable, y simplemente ni siquiera intento determinarlas, quedando la alusion como una simple sugerencia. Asi vemos que Kant careda de las distinciones necesarias para aludir a la posibilidad de las geometrias no euclideas que hoy conocemos. Pero, adernas, vimos que la rigidez con que deberian ir coordinadas las propiedades espaciales de cada mundo probable elimina directamente dicha posibilidad. Resumiendo: cada mundo esta caracterizado por su ley de atraccion particular que determina sus propiedades especificas, y esta separado de los otros mundos pues todos poseen distinto numero de dimensiones. Las "otras geometrias" de Kant probable mente solo quepa imaginarlas como la radical alteridad de otro universo. 2. Sabre el fundamenta primero de Ia diferencia entre las regianes del espacia Aqui, la cuestion de la prioridad ontologica entre el espacio y las cosas recibe un tratamiento distinto y una respuesta opuesta a la que tuviera en las Fuerzas vivas.12 El espacio precede a las cosas yen el anal isis que Ie permite establecerlo Kant apela ados propiedades topologicas del espacio: la dimensionalidad y 11 "Porque de ser posible solamente el espacio tridimensional, los otros universos situ ados fuera del que habitamos podrian relacionarse en el espacio con el nuestro, dado que son espacios de la misma c1ase. Entonces cab ria preguntarse por que Dios ha separado un universo de los dernas" (I. Kant, Pensamientos sobre la verdadera estimaci6n de las fuerzas vivas, no. 11, p. 36 [las cursivas son nuestrasJ). 12 Mientras en las Fuerzas vivos, como ya se afirmo, las cosas preceden al espacio, en el Articulo del '68 es el espacio el que precede a las cosas, en tanto que "el fundarnento de la determinacion cabal de una figura corporea no depende unicarnente de la mutua relacion y la posicion relativa de sus partes, sino adem as de una relacion con el espacio general absoluto ... " (I.Kant, "Sobre el fundamento primero de la diferencia entre las regiones en el espacio't.p. 143 [las cursivas son nuestras}.) ( 142 MARfA INRS COCCO Y EDUARDO DANIEL DIB la orientabilidad.P Los argumentos con los que pretende establecer ambas propiedades ya han sido superados!" y nada permiten deducir acerca de propiedades metricas, por 10que nada se puede inferir de este articulo acerca de la posibilidad 0 de la imposibilidad de las geometrias no euclideas. Tampoco puede agregarse nada desde aqui al problema de la alteridad, ya sea del espacio 0 de los observadores. 3. Critica de la raz6n pura La imposibilidad que percibimos en nosotros mismos para figurarnos un espacio de mas de tres dimensiones, me parece estribar en que nuestra alma recibe [, .. ] las impresiones externas segun la ley de la [... ] relacion inversa [al cuadrado] de las distancias, yen que [... ] no solo sufre, sino que acnia fuera de si de esta manera." Podemos ver en esta cita de las Fuerzas vivas que, tanto las condiciones de nuestra percepci6n, como las del espacio que podemos construir y habitar, estan dadas por una ley objetiva. En cambio, en el periodo crftico estas condiciones radican en la estructura trascendental de la subjetividad humana. 13 Ladimensi6n que explicita Kant en este articulo es la tridimensionalidad, se refiere a ella del siguiente modo: "en el espacio corp6reo, debido a sus tres dimensiones, pueden concebirse tres planos, cada uno de los cuales corta perpendicularmente a los otros dos" (op. cit., p. 14I. [las cursivas son nuestras]). La otra propiedad topol6gica mencionada aqui, la orientabilidad, se manifiesta espedficamente en el fen6meno de las contrapartidas incongruentes. Puesto que "la posibilidad de las contrapartidas incongruentes implica que la figura de un cuerpo no depende unicamente de la distancia entre los puntos discernibles en el, de modo que la determinaci6n del espacio que el cuerpo ocupa no puede efectuarse en forma completa si no se conocen mas datos que las posiciones relativas de sus panes" (R. Torretti, Kant, p. 122). Tambien es necesaria la orientaci6n de dichas panes enrelacion con las regiones del espacio; esta orientaci6n consiste en una relaci6n del cuerpo con el "espacio universal como una unidad de la cual cad a extensi6n tiene que ser considerada como pane" (1. Kant, "Sobre el fundamento primero de la diferencia entre las regiones del espacio", p. 140). 14 "Wir sind jetzt in der Lage, relativ klar sagen zu konnen, was man heute i.iber die Geometrie des Rechts und Links mehr weiB als Kant. Erstens wissen wir aufgrund globaler geometrischer Betrachtungen, die die Mtiglichkeit nichtorientierbarer 3-dimensionaler Mannigfaltigkeiten aufzeigen, daB Kants Suche nach inneren geometrischen Eigenschaften, die das Nicht-zur-Deckung-bringen-ktinnen erklaren konnten, verfehlt ist. So1che Eigenschaften gibt es nicht. Und zweitens wissen wir, daB bei einer Beschrankung auf lokale geometrische Betrachtungen das Rechts-Links-Phanomen weniger ein eigentlich geometrisches ist, als vielmehr ein kombinatorisch-arithmetisches: Eshat mit Vertauschungen (Transpositionen) zu tun und mit dem Zahlen von Vertauschungen" (Mi.ilhti!zer,F., "Das Phanornen der inkongruenten Gegensti.icke aus Kantischer und heutiger Sicht' en Kant-Studien, no. 83, 1992, p. 452. Cfr. tambien R. Torretti, Kant, pp. 85-86 y "La geometrla en e! pensamiento de Kant", pp. 61-75). 15 1. Kant, Pensamientos sobre la verdadera estimaci6n de las fuerzas vivas, no. 10, p. 36. GEOMETRiA Y ALTERIDAD EN KANT 143 EI metodo de Euclides, en su formulacion primitiva, no es puramente deductivo, sino constructivo-deductivo, y Kant asi 10 entendio '" en el periodo critico: la intuicion no solo verifica los postulados, sino que participa en la dernostracion de los teoremas. No podemos derivar otras geometnas de un simple cambio en algunos de los postulados. Dicho cambio, aplicado a una axiomatizaci6n de la geornetria euclidea, permite obtener teoremas distintos de los clasicos a partir de la aplicacion de la regia de inferencia. Pero aplicado al metodo de Euclides tal como Kant 10 concebia, 0 sea en su forma original no axiomatica, no permitiria comenzar a trabajar siquiera, ya que dicho trabajo implica dibujar 0 construir los objetos, para luego razonar y deducir sus propiedades. De este modo, las geometrias no euclideas, que desde este punto de vista resultan de una variacion en el sistema de Euclides, no pod ian estar en el horizonte de Kant. Sobre este punto debemos hacer una aclaracion, Hay modelos en la intuicion que ilustran ciertos aspectos de las gcomctrias no euclideas. Sin embargo, el obstaculo para representar dichas geometrias segun el metodo de Kant estriba en el requisito de construir los objetos en el espacio real, no en un modelo ad hoc. Adernas debemos considerar que, si bien es posible visualizar figuras (dos dimensiones) no euclideas proyectandolas, por ejemplo, sobre la superficie de una esfera, cuya curvatura sobre la tercera dimension simula la curvatura gaussiana del plano, no podemos hacer 10 mismo con cuerpos (tres dimensiones), ya que somos seres tridimensionales y no disponemos de una dimension extra para representar la curvatura del espacio y poder apreciar el resultado. Siguiendo eI ejemplo de la esfera, no disponemos de una "hiperesfera" cuyo volumen se curve en la cuarta dimension. Finalmente, debemos decir que aunque no suministra el fundamento para desarrollar las geometrias no euclideas, la filosofia trascendental tam poco niega de manera absoluta la posibilidad de las mismas. Sobrevive la posibilidad logica,"" aunque no intuitiva, de dichas geometrias. Si estas fueran 16 "Kant [... J opina que las fases que Proclo llama [ectesis y catasgene], al exhibir los datos y cornpletarlos segun las posibilidades que esa misma exhibici6n hace presentes, constituyen el aspecto distintivo del rnetodo rnatematico, sin el cual este no puede procurarnos conocimientos realmente nuevos. La 'construccion' en el sentido kantiano (que comprende la [ectesis], mas la [catasgene] [... J) exhibe intuitivarnente los datos en que ha de apoyarse la dernostracion" CR. Torretti, "La geometria en el pensarniento de Kant", p. 99). 17 Para Kant, es 16gicamente posible todo 10que no vaya contra el principio de contradicci6n. Este principio por si solo no basta para caracterizar a las "otras geomerrlas". "Logical possibility, the wider notion, is characterized in terms of the law of contradiction, real possibility in terms of the principles of possible experience, viz. the Categories" (G. Brittan, Kant's Philosophy of Science, p. 21). 'Alles Wirkliche isr moglich: hieraus folgt: einiges Mogliches ist wirklich, was zu bedeuten scheint: es ist vieles rnoglich, was nicht wirklich ist, d.h. das Feld der 144 MARIA INES COCCO Y EDUARDO DANIEL DIB posibles real, ademas de l6gicamente, 10 sedan s6lo para otros, para seres racionales distintos de los humanos y con otras capacidades sensibles." pues el metodo geometrico es un hibrido de deducci6n l6gica y construcci6n sensible, y tiene un sentido holistico que no permite prescindir de ninguno de esos dos aspectos. Estos otros "seres racionales" con su peculiar intuici6n del espacio caracterizan la noci6n de alteridad en la Critica. 4. Historia general de la naturaleza y teoria del cielo19 AI comienzo del apendice titulado "Sobre los habitantes de los astros" se lee 10 siguiente: Aunque parezca [... J que en el juicio sobre la condici6n de los habitantes de mundos lejanos esta permitido dar rienda suelta a la imaginaci6n [... J debo confesar, sin embargo, que las distancias de los cuerpos siderales del sol traen consigo determinadas relaciones que implican una influencia esencial sobre las diversas propiedades de los seres racionales que en ellos se hallan, puesto que su manera de actuar y de sufrir esta ligada a la calidad de la materia con la que estan vinculados y depende del grado de las impresiones que el mundo despierta en ellos segun las caracterfsticas de la relaci6n de su lugar de residencia al centro de atracci6n y del calor. M. ist grosser a/s das der Wirklichkeit" (R. Eisler, Kant-Lexikon, p. 369. (Articulo: Moglichkeit) [las cursivas son nuestras]. Cfr., 1. Kant, Cntica de la raz6n pure, A 220-221 = B 268). 18 "S610podemos [... ] hablar del espacio [... ] desde el punto de vista humano. La forma constante de esa receptividad que llamamos sensibilidad es una condici6n necesaria de todas las relaciones en las que intuimos objetos como exteriores a nosostros [... ] podemos decir que el espacio abarca todas las cosas que se nos pueden manifestar exteriormente, pero no todas las cosas en S1 mismas, sean intuidas 0 no y sea quien sea el que las intuya. En efecto, no podemos juzgar si las intuiciones de otros seres pensantes estan sometidas a las mismas condiciones que lirnitan nuestra intuici6n y que tienen para nosotros validez universal. Si afiadimos al concepto del sujeto la limitaci6n de unjuicio, este posee entonces validez absoluta. La proposici6n: 'Todas las cosas se hallan yuxtapuestas en el espacio' es valida [en A: 's610 es valida'] si la limitamos de forma que esas cosas sean entendidas como objetos de nuestra intuici6n sensible" (op. cit., A 27= B 43, p. 72). 19 LaHistoria general de la naturalezay teona del delo es un texto del afio 1755, por tanto, pertenece al periodo precritico de Kant. Es mas, se puede afirmar una estrecha conexi6n entre el tema de esta obra y el de las Fuerzas vivas. En la Historia general de la naturaleza y teoria del cielo, Kant pretendia explicar mecanicamente el origen de la estructura del universo, y a partir de aquf hacer 10propio con los fen6menos compuestos de la naturaleza. Para ello debia rectificar el concepto leibniziano y cartesiano de fuerza en el sentido de la filosofia natural de Newton. Esto fue realizado en las Fuerzas vivas. (Cfr. Boehm, P., Die vorkritischen Schnften Kants, pp. 15-16.) Es necesario aclarar que la ubicaci6n que damos, en el presente articulo, ala Historia general de la naturalezay teona del cielo despuis de la Critica obedece a nuestro prop6sito: enfatizar el tema de la alteridad en el pensamiento de Kant. GEOMETRIA Y ALTERIDAD EN KANT 145 Creo, por cierto, que no es necesario afirmar que todos los planetas deben estar habitados, aun cuando serfa una incongruencia negarlo respecto de todos o la mayoria de ellos.i? Como vemos, Kant funda la posibilidad de los otros seres racionales, no en el hecho de que no exista contradicci6n interna en el concepto de los mismos (10que constituiria su posibilidad 16gica), sino en la experiencia posible.P es decir, en 10que sabemos 0 podemos llegar a conocer acerca de los otros planetas (lo que constituye su posibilidad real). Se podria objetar en este punto que el concepto de experiencia posible fue desarrollado por Kant recien en la Critica de la raz6n pura. Sin embargo, vimos que en esta ultima obra Kant vuelve a mencionar, esta vez sin especificarla, la posibilidad de los otroS.22Por 10tanto, es congruente pensar que los conceptos de experiencia posible y posibilidad real de otros seres racionales fueron sostenidos conjuntamente por Kant durante el periodo critico, La creencia en la existencia de otros seres racionales es una convicci6n metafisica fundamental de Kant, presente tanto en el periodo precritico como en el periodo critico.P Geornetrfa y alteridad Saber que el espacio al que Kant se referia es el espacio real, el espacio en que se dan los cuerpos fisicos y sus desplazamientos, el espacio habitado y conocido por nosotros mismos.P' nos sugiere una interpretaci6n que no trata de interpolar la concepci6n de Kant con la 16gica y la matematica modernas. La filosofia de Kant (ademas de conte star por que la geometria es adecuada para describir el mundo objetivo) explica por que los seres humanos coinciden en sus juicios geometricos. La pregunta acerca de la intersubjetividad no se da explicitamente en Kant, pero es un tema que podria abordarse. Consideremos que para Kant hay ciertos seres (los humanos) que comparten ciertas estructuras cognitivas en las que se basan sus coincidencias. Las 20 I. Kant, Historia general de la naturaleza y teona del cielo, pp. 187-188. 21 Cfr. n. 17 (cita de Brittan). 22 Cfr. n. 18 (cita de la Critica de la raz6n pura). 23 Es por esta raz6n que Alois Riehl, al examinar el desarrollo filos6fico de Kant, afirma que "Gedanken dieser Art gehoren zu dem urspriinglichen Besitze einer Philosophen, sie werden bei aller ihrer ferneren Abwandlung und Entwicklung nicht eigentlich vermehrt. .. " (A. Riehl, Der philosophische Kritizismus, p. 275.) 24 "El tema de la filosofia del espacio de Kant es 10 que hemos llamado el espacio fisico, el espacio en que se mueven los cuerpos [... J en [el] que nos movemos en nuestra vida diaria, vemos salir y ponerse el sol y acontecer las acciones grandes y pequefias de la historia es el mismo espacio en que la ciencia fisica sinia los movimientos cuyas leyes estudia" CR.Torretti, Kant, pp. 70-71). 146 MARfA INES COCCO Y EDUARDO DANIEL DIB condiciones para estas coincidencias no se dan por supuestas, sino que se elaboran en la Critica de la raz6n pura. En el momenta de las Fuerzas vivas, en que Kant sostenia una concepci6n objetiva del espacio, llamativamente tampoco daba por supuesto el fundamento de la estructura del mismo. Este fundamento era especulativamente identificado con la ley de gravitaci6n universal y resultaba inmediatamente inferible la posibilidad de seres que no compartieran dicho fundarnento.P Asi, quedaba claro que la coincidencia en la apreciaci6n del espacio no se daba por supuesta tampoco en este periodo, sino que adquiria un caracter problernatico. lLas personas coinciden solamente porque aplican el mismo metodo? Si fuera asi, bastaria can la geometria y no seria necesario filosofar sobre ella. Sin embargo, Kant estima necesario explicar por que todos interpretamos el metodo y seguimos sus reglas de identica manera. Asi, el metodo constructivo-deductivo de Euclides constituye un aspecto heuristico del trabajo geometrico, que se complementa con un aspecto sensible, dado en la forma de nuestra intuici6n. lC6mo reaccionarian distintas personas a las que se dieran los principios para construir una figural lHay algo que garantice la coincidencia de sus dibujos? Kant encabeza las Fuerzas vivas con la siguiente frase de Senecar'" "Nada, pues, mas import ante que no seguir, a la manera de los rebafios, a los que van adelante, caminando no adonde se debe ir, sino por donde de ordinario se va." Kant, de todas maneras, pensaba que cierta uniformidad en las respuestas era necesaria. Conocer el fundamento de las propias acciones es 10 que diferencia a los seres racionales del rebafio, En las Fuerzas vivas el fundamento para la geometria .es la ley de gravedad de Newton, en el periodo critico es la intuici6n pura y el esquematismo. Siempre es fundamental confrontar al ge6metra con el desafio de la construcci6n, no s610a su entendimiento sino al individuo completo, con sus ojos y su raz6n, su regla y su imaginaci6n, su dibujo y su esquema mental. Asi, no importa tanto especificar de una manera 16gicamente rigurosa condiciones (tales como la continuidad) que deben cumplir los objetos geornetricos como quiere por ejemplo Priedman.F sino mas bien fundamentar por que determinados procedimientos de construcci6n y deducci6n, seguidos por diferentes personas, deberian llevar siempre a identicos resultados. Las reglas 25 Gomez, en su articulo "Kant, 1747 Uilosofo no eucJideano?", concJuye que: si hubiesernos nacido en cualquiera de esos otros mundos, seriamos cap aces de representarnos (inruirivamente) las tesis no eucJideanas de las geometrias de esos espacios. 26 La traduccion de esta frase es de J. Arana Canedo-Arguelles en su cornentario a las Fuerzas vivas, en I. Kant, Pensamientos sabre la verdadera estimaci6n de las fuerzas vivas, p. 314. 27 Cfr. la interpretacion que hace de este tema en M. Friedman, Kant and the Exact Sciences, cap. 1 de la Parte I, titulado "Geometry". GEOMETRiA Y ALTERIDAD EN KANT 147 del procedimiento consideradas formalmente no garantizan la homogeneidad de los resultados.F' Esta homogeneidad esta necesariamente limitada a un entorno particular. Como vimos en la seccion 1, en las Fuerzas vivas ese entorno es "este mundo" por oposicion a otros "mundos posibles". Cada mundo esta caracterizado por su ley de atraccion particular que determina sus propiedades especfficas y esta separado de los otros mundos, pues todos poseen distinto mimero de dimensiones. Asi, la alteridad de esos otros mundos es radical. Segtin vimos en la seccion 3, en el periodo critico el entorno es nuestra "intuicion pura", por oposicion a la intuicion presumiblemente alterna de otros posibles seres racionales.j? Como vimos en la seccion 4, Kant creta en la posibilidad real de estos seres. Nuestro entorno solo es un fragmento de la realidad. Esta realidad siempre desborda nuestra comprension y 10 hace de una manera indescriptible. "No podemos considerar las especiales condiciones de la sensibilidad como condiciones de posibilidad de las cosas [la realidad completa], sino solo de 28 lQue pasaria si formulasernos otro procedimiento de construcci6n, como el de las trivariedades, que con base en la intuici6n del espacio real permita representar objetos no euc1ideanos? Esta construcci6n no pod ria ser terminada ernpfricamente (en un modelo de cart6n plegado, por ejemplo) pero conduce a la imaginaci6n hacia una representaci6n en la que concurren imagen e intelecci6n. "Una de las dificultades del estudio de las trivariedades es que la visualizaci6n directa debe, en parte, dejar su puesto a la representaci6n abstracta [ ... J Considerese la trivariedad generada a partir de un bloque rectangular de espacio; v.g., el espacio interior de una habitaci6n. Peguese, en abstracto, la pared delantera de la habitaci6n con la trasera, la pared de la derecha con la de la izquierda, y el suelo con el techo. Si los pegamientos se hicieran realmente, tendria uno que imaginarse a la habitaci6n doblandose [... J en una cuarta dimensi6n. Sin embargo, todo cuanto necesitamos para describir la varied ad esta dado por el procedimiento [descripto]. Si un objeto [... J se mueve hacia la pared delantera, desaparece en esa pared para reaparecer en la trasera; analogarnente, el objeto desaparece por la pared de la derecha al mismo tiempo que reaparece por la de la izquierda y reaparece por el suelo conforme desaparece por el techo" (W Thurston, y J. Weeks, "Maternatica de las variedades tridimensionales", pp. 86-87). Probable mente Kant no aceptaria este tipo de representaci6n, ya que el requiere la posibilidad empirica de la construcci6n. Una vez construido un triangulo, el entendimiento nos dice que se trata s610de un ejemplo y que debemos ver en el propiedades comunes a todos los triangulos. Pero es necesario para la validez de la prueba poder trazar yver la figura. "Und nati.irlich bestehtja die mathematische Praxis des sich an Euklid anlehnenden Geometers gewohnlich in der Konstruktion geometrischer Begriffe in der empirischen Anschauung, in der Herstellung raumlicher Figuren auf dem Papier mit Zirkel und Lineal. Die einzelnen gezeichneten Figuren sind empirische Gegenstande, sollen aber nach Kant den konstruirten Begriff in seiner Allgemeinheit anschaulich exemplifizieren" (M. Schiro, "Kants Theorie der geometrischen Erkenntnis und die nichteuklidische Geometrie", p. 9 [las cursivas son nuestras]). 29 En estas consideraciones finales no retomamos la secci6n 2, puesto que su funci6n era asegurar la no relevancia del Articulo del '68 en 10que respecta a nuestro tema. Asimismo, tam poco volvemos sobre la secci6n 4, cuya funci6n era establecer la relevancia del problema de la alteridad. 148 MARiA INES COCCO Y EDUARDO DANIEL DIB sus fen6menos [10aprehensiblepara nosotros] ."30 La realidad completa de la que hablamos equivale ala noci6n kantiana de "n6umeno", a la que cons ideramos no meramente como un concepto limite del conocimiento (sentido negativo del termino), sino como aquella realidad que trasciende al sujeto. Esta realidad no se constrifie a unas condiciones dadas a priori (salvo la del principio de contradicci6n). Sus otros espacios, de existir realmente, s6lo serfan dados a seres cuya sensibilidad les permitiera ir dando sentido paso a paso a un procedimiento de construcci6n y deducci6n adecuado y obteniendo asi un panorama que desafia nuestra imaginaci6n. Consideraciones finales Uno podria preguntar finalmente por que dedicarse a una exegesis tan exhaustiva de las especulaciones de Kant acerca de la estructura del espacio, cuando es sabido que en geometria han ocurrido desarrollos espectaculares que superan ampliamente los lfrnites que Kant supuso. La raz6n es que nuestra pregunta por la alteridad geometries se refiere a la posibilidad real de la misma, no s610a su posibilidad formal. Si existieran los espacios alternos, i.que podriamos saber de ellos? Si hubiera seres inteligentes alternos, i.que comprensi6n del espaciotendrianr: i.construirfan una geometria?; si 10hicieran i.cual seria su naturaleza? Todavfa podria preguntarse por que no echar mana de las geometrias no euclfdeas como gufa para esta tarea, Hay dos buenas razones para esto: 1) Gracias a Einstein sabemos que la geometria no euclidea describe nuestro espacio tridimensional y podemos esperar que haga el mismo trabajo para n di1ensiones. 2) Seria razonable pensar que si otros seres racionales se lanzaran a investigar la naturaleza del espacio mas alla de sus limitaciones perceptivas de forma puramente abstracta, llegarian a construir una geometria general similar a la nuestra. Estas razones, efectivamente, son buenas si aceptamos los dos supuestos siguientes: 1) Los eventuales espacios alternos cumplen con cierta condicion de monotonia, es decir, el rango de las variantes que pueden presentar estos espacios no supera el rango de las variantes que podria presentar nuestro propio espacio. Kant, lejos deaceptar este supuesto, nos llama la atenci6n ace rca de las posibilidades radicalmente alternas que abren un cambio en el fundamento 30 I. Kant, Cdtica de la raz6n pura, A 27 = B 43, p. 72_ GEOMETRiA Y ALTERlDAD EN KANT 149 fisico (ley de gravedad) de la estructura del espacio. En este sentido su meditaci6n es mas radical. 2) Todo ser racional razona igual, en el sentido geornetrico porlo menos. Lejos de estar de acuerdo con este supuesto, Kant nos advierte cuan altemos pueden resultarnos otros seres, sus razones y su eventual geometrfa, Por consiguiente, las geornetrias no euclideas pueden ayudar a la especulaci6n, pero no nos sirven de guia en su nivel mas radical. La ambiguedad de las respuestas que pueda recibir la pregunta por la alteridad es del mismo grado que la ambigiiedad que afecta a la noci6n de n6umeno. Sin embargo, en el presente articulo hemos logrado precisar dicha cuesti6n planteandola validamente a partir de la obra de Kant y mostrando que su importancia supera el marco de dicha obra. BIBLIOGRAFiA ESCRITOS DE KANT Kant, I., Pensamientos sobre la verdadera estimaci6n de las Juerzas vivas, trad. y comentario de Juan Arana-Canedo-Arguelles, Peter Lang, Berna-Francfort am Main-Nueva York-Paris, 1988. --, Historia general de la riaturalezay teoria de/ cielo, Juarez Editor, Buenos Aires, 1969. --, "Sobre el fundamento primero de la diferencia entre las regiones del espacio" en Dicilogos,afio VIII, no. 22, abril de 1972, pp. 139-146. ' --, Critica de la raz6n pura, trad. Pedro Ribas, Ediciones Alfaguara, Madrid, 1978. TEXTOS SOBRE KANT Boehm, P., Die vorkritischen Schriften Kants, Verlag von K.J. Triibner; Estrasburgo, 1906. Brittan, G., Kant's Philosophy of Science, Princeton, 1978. Eisler, R., Kant-Lexikon, Nachschlagewerk zu Kants samtlichen Schriften, Briefen und handschriftlichem Nachlass, Georg alms Verlag, Hildesheim-Ziirich-Nueva York,1989. Friedman, M., Kant and the Exact Sciences, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts/Londres, Inglaterra, 1992. Gomez, R., "Kant, 1747lfilosofo no euclideano?", en E. Villanueva (comp.), Quinto Simposio Internacional de Filosofia, 2 vols., vol. 2, Mexico, Universidad Nacional Autonorna de Mexico, 1992, pp. 163-172. Miihlholzer; E, "Das Phanornen der inkongruenten Gegenstiicke aus Kantischer und heutiger Sicht" en Kant-Studien, no. 83, 1992, pp. 436-453. 150 MARiA INES COCCO Y EDUARDO DANIEL D1B Riehl, A., Der philosophische Kritizismus, Geschichte und System, Erster Band, Geschichte des philosoph ischen Kritizismus, A. Kroner Verlag, Leipzig, 1924. Schirn, M., "Kants Theorie der geometrischen Erkenntnis und die nichteuklidische Geometrie" en Katu-Studien, 1991, pp. 1-28. Torretti, R., Manuel Kant: estudios sobre losJundamentos de lafilosofia critica, 2a. ed., Editorial Charcas, Buenos Aires, 1980. --, "La geometria en el pensamiento de Kant", en C. Cordua-R. Torretti, Variedad en la raz6n. Ensayos sobre Kant, Universidad de Puerto Rico, Rio Piedras, 1992, pp.53-103. --, Variedad en la raz6n. Ensayos sobre Kant, Editorial de la Universidad de Puerto Rico, Rio Piedras, 1992, pp. 53-103. TEXTOS SOBRE GEOMET!UA Thurston, W Y J. Weeks, "Matematica de las variedades tridimensionales" en Investigaci6ny Ciencia, no. 96, septiembre de 1984, Barcelona, pp. 84-97. Torretti, R., Philosophy of Geometry from Riemann to Poincare, D. Reidel Publishing, Dordrecht-Boston-Lancaster, 1984.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
―Humanity and Universalizability: A Kantian Interpretation of the Foundations of Human Rights,‖ in Recht und Frieden in der Philosophie Kants: Akten des X. Internationalen KantKongresses, ed. Valerio Rohden et al. Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2008, vol. 5, p. 745-756. Nythamar de Oliveira Pontifical Catholic University, Brazil University of Toledo, Ohio Alexander von Humboldt-Stiftung, Kassel 1. As one speaks nowadays of the philosophical foundations of human rights, one seeks above all to address anew the question ―what are, after all, human rights?‖ and why and how should anyone stand up for them. In order to revisit the very problem of the foundations of human rights in the 21 st century, it would be thus important to differentiate at least three levels of philosophical argumentation, namely, (1) the ontological-semantical problem, comprising epistemic questions of meaning and language, so as to define, from the outset, what is meant by human rights; (2) the correlated problems of philosophical anthropology and philosophy of history within the modern conception of ―human nature‖ and the anthropocentric specificity of human rights; (3) the ethicalpolitical problem of justifying and defending human rights, particularly from a universalist standpoint, so as to respond to the criticisms raised by communitarianism. Contemporary authors such as John Rawls, Norberto Bobbio, Jürgen Habermas, Otfried Höffe, Thomas Pogge, and Wolfgang Kersting are among those who have decisively contributed, in the last decades, to recasting the philosophical foundations of human rights, by taking into account the interdisciplinary dimension of the three levels just mentioned above, especially with reference to the contributions of economics, political theory, social psychology, and law studies. 1 In this brief paper, I shall confine myself to levels 2 and 3, especially to the problem of the correlation between universalizability and humanity in light of the lasting contributions of Immanuel Kant's practical philosophy to the philosophical foundations of human rights today. In effect, the gamut of official documents of international conventions, treaties and commissions (for instance, issued by the United Nations and the European Union) refers us directly or indirectly to the appropriation of universalizable principles, particularly inspired by Kant's philosophy of right and peace. My guiding thesis is that such a correlation not only translates the most important 1 Cf. ―Zu einer hermeneutische Begründung der Menschenrechte,‖ in H. Eidam, F. Hermenau, and D. Souza (eds.), Metaphysik und Hermeneutik. Festschrift für H.-G. Flickinger. Kassel: Verlag der Universität, 2004, p. 310-324. original contribution by Kant to the recasting of the philosophical problem of human nature, at the heart of any discourse on human rights, but also rehabilitates universalism in ethics and political philosophy as it makes highly defensible the cosmopolitan juridification, the extension of liberal principles of constitutional democracy to other peoples, and the promotion of human rights through international law. Thus, it is my contention here that an intercultural transformation of the Kantian correlation between universalizability and humanity allows us to overcome all the suspicions raised against Eurocentrism and imperialism (economic, political, and cultural), so as to corroborate multiculturalism and the fact of a reasonable pluralism without falling back into an irresponsible, nihilistic relativism. Furthermore, it may be shown in which sense the Kantian conception of right refers us back, on the one hand, to the correlation between freedom and equality, and, on the other hand, to the correlation between universalizability and humanity, and how it can make feasible a normative identification between ―human rights‖ (Menschenrechte) and ―basic rights‖ (Grundrechte), rendered positive by the deontological, irreducible category of ―human dignity‖ (Menschenwürde), even if understood as Menschheit or Menschlichkeit. 2. Several articles and monographs have been published in the last two decades attesting to the relevance of Kant's moral philosophy, philosophy of right, and political philosophy to our current understanding of human rights. In particular, one can observe that the reception of Kant's philosophy of right and political philosophy has been radically transformed since Rawls's ―Kantian interpretation‖ came out in 1971, and the subsequent studies by Höffe, Pogge, Kersting and Bernd Ludwig. 2 I am assuming that the Rawlsian interpretation can be identified as a model of Kantian constructivism, in contrast with teleological and independent interpretations, according to which a theory of theory of justice would be, respectively, the effective historical fulfillment of Kant's moral philosophy or just another matter of pragmatic concern within a system of rights, without any allusion to the problem of the foundations of morality. 3 I am furthermore assuming the position, upheld by Paul Guyer, Thomas Pogge, Onora O'Neill and others, that the principles of justice expressed by Rawls's Theory of Justice turn out to be a reasonable, defensible reconstruction, and according to Guyer, ―necessary,‖ to Kant's own 2 Cf. T. Göller, ―Kants Menschenrechtsbegründung heute,‖ in Kant und die Berliner Aufklärung, ed. V. Gerhardt, R.P. Horstmann und R. Schumacher, Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 2001, Bd IV, p. 126-133; W. Kersting, Wohlgeordnete Freiheit: Immanuel Kants Rechtsund Staatsphilosophie. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1984; O. Höffe, Kategorische Rechtsprinzipien: Ein Kontrapunkt der Moderne. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1990. 3 K. Baynes, The Normative Foundations of Social Criticism: Kant, Rawls, Habermas. Albany: SUNY Press, 1992. conception of right. 4 Pogge has also shown that the so-called ―political liberalism‖ of Rawls is, in effect, a quite defensible interpretation of Kant's own theory of justice, insofar as the latter is irreducible to a comprehensive liberalism or to a moral doctrine. 5 This would bring us closer to a fundamental problem in the reception of the Rechtslehre, namely, that although it cannot be dependent upon the supreme principle of morality or any of the formulations of the categorical imperative, its formal, procedural thrust not only accounts for the defense of a synthetic a priori unity of reason (in continuity with the transcendental arguments of the three Critiques) but also for an analytical reading of Kant's constructivism (proceeding to Freiheit qua the grounding idea of Vernunft) and, in Pogge's own account, the conception of a procedural game. Hence what has been termed moral constructivism, following the seminal studies by O'Neill, Schneewind and others, serve to respond to Strawson's contention that the Kantian model of foundation is descriptive rather than revisionary or constructive in a broad sense, which is refused together with the identification between moral and political constructivism. 6 I think that it is indeed possible to argue for a Kantian-inspired articulation between the problem of foundations and that of justification of morality, on the one hand, and the independent albeit not irrelevant empirical problem of the applicability of normative principles in the sphere of right and in the very formulation of public policies and institutional procedures, as Pogge has, to my mind, convincingly argued. 7 It is against such a problematic that I am asserting that Rawls's ―Kantian interpretation‖ is to be taken as a watershed (Wendepunkt) in the Kant-Forschung in law studies and theory of justice and peace, precisely because of its thematization of the theory-praxis articulation in Kantian terms rather than in the post-Kantian, esp. post-Hegelian, post-Marxist attempts that sought to overcome the dualism of transcendental arguments and empirical researches in history and sociology. Thus, pre-Rawlsian readings of Kant's theory of justice repeat some of the same mistakes inherent in German idealism as it sought to trivialize Kant's dualisms and attempted at some dialectical solution that supposedly overcame idealist chimeras through historical substance (Hegel) or materialist process (Marx), overlooking the most specific problems of finality, content and formality in its nontheoretical conception of the ―practical‖ use 4 ―Rawls's principles of justice are the necessary reconstruction of Kant's own conception of right‖, in P. Guyer, ―Life, Liberty and Property: Rawls and the Reconstruction of Kant's Political Philosophy‖, in D. Hüning and B. Tuschling, (eds), Recht, Staat und Völkerrecht bei Immanuel Kant. Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 1998, p. 291. 5 T. Pogge, ―Kant's Theory of Justice‖. Kant-Studien 79 (1988): 407-433. 6 Cf. P. Strawson, Individuals: An Essay in Descriptive Metaphysics, London: Routledge, 1959. 7 Cf. O. O'Neill, Constructions of Reason. Cambridge University Press, 1989. of reason. 8 In effect, according to Ronald Dworkin, a political theory that ―takes rights seriously‖ can be diversily conceived through three distinct models, depending on its stress on finality, right or duty as a fundamental principle and guiding idea, as attested by utilitarian (welfare state), natural law (Naturrecht) and deontological paradigms(moral obligation), respectively. 9 However, the articulation between these three different models of foundations remains far from a harmonious conciliation by means of some metaphysical or supposedly scientific argumentation of sorts, as proposed by several Hegelian and Marxist readings leading up to the Positivismusstreit involving Popper, Adorno, Dahrendorf and Habermas. I shall offer two examples of such a deficiency in the interpretations of two respected readers of Kant, such as Ernst Bloch and Bernard Bourgeois, who provide us with this sort of reading. I shall then proceed to recast the Kantian articulation between right and moral so as to make defensible a universalist interpretation of human rights, as over against communitarians, without transgressing the juridical specificity of a theory of rights and without falling back into teleological models that merely apply a supposed universalizability to differentiatead sociopolitical contexts, and in agreement with recent interpretations offered by Allan Wood and Markus Willaschek. 3. In his 1961 work on ―Natural Law and Human Dignity‖ (Naturrecht und menschliche Würde), Bloch starts from the historical opposition of the modern current of natural law to the social utopian trend (or the revolutionary praxis) of his own affiliation, so as to stress that, while the former proclaims the freedom that results from human dignity, the latter claims happiness (or human fulfillment) through the peace of an equality and fraternity (Brüderlichkeit) as solely capable of generating an authentic, lasting human solidarity. Bloch points thus to the historical tendency of separating freedom –so cherished by liberals-from solidarity –usually advocated by socialists. For Bloch, today's task for human rights consists in the humanization of their revolutionary effective actualization (revolutionäre Verwirklichung), reconciling peace and right, freedom and solidarity. According to Bloch, Kant did perceive the great philosophical problematic underlying the foundations of human rights in the very separation between an ideal of freedom and its historical, concrete reconciliation, but his theory of right could not go beyond a reformist theory of human rights, insofar as the affirmation of rights as a means and rigorous principle of the final purpose (Endzweck) of humanity –viz. its perpetual peace- remained 8 Rawls's suggestion that the Gemeinspruch, together with Kant's writings on the philosophy of history and Zum ewigen Frieden, were decisive for such a ―Kantian interpretation‖ of justice as fairness is certainly instructive. 9 Cf. R. Dworkin, Taking Rights Seriously. Harvard University Press, 1977, p. 172s. somewhat subordinated to its ideal form, incapable of effectively securing right and peace, freedom and happiness. Bloch's Hegelian-Marxist reasoning seems to recognize, indeed, the important contribution of Kant's universalism, in particular, its inherent conception of dignity as essential to human being (Menschenwürde qua Menschenwesen), although he refuses its formalism just as the supra-empirical stance of freedom culminates in a philosophical anthropology: Menschenwesen is ultimately taken for the foundation of right, as long as objective right (institutional norms of human agency, whatever is due to her/him) guarantees at every moment her/his subjective right (the faculty of acting, that which is due). (p. 35s.) Bloch observes also that even though Marx recognized in Kant the great German theoretician of the French Revolution, his idealization of human rights cannot resist the critique of ideology (Ideologiekritik): because the originary, social contract was only the ideal origin of right, not to be taken in real and historical terms (such as through wars and violent conquests and struggles for recognition), it simply cannot fulfill its claims to justification and legitimation of power structures and institutions. Bloch actually deals with accounts that just attest to this aberrant contradiction between natural law, contractualism, and historical events contradicting their ideals. 4. Bernard Bourgeois extensively resort to Bloch's reading of Kant, in his work Philosophie et droits de l'homme de Kant à Marx (Paris: PUF, 1990), as he acknowledges German idealism as the philosophy of the French Revolution and seeks to stick to the Blochian agenda of ―democratic socialism‖ as the only capable of politically reconciling liberalism and socialism.(p. 9) Bourgeois points then to three difficulties within any research on the foundations of human rights, namely: 1. the problem of content, which consists in subsuming a multiplicity of rights under one single principle, usually identified with some idea of the human being (une idée de l'homme), such as presupposed by the catalogue of rights suggested by the UN. To what extent does the content of such rights vary with the diversity of humans groups? What is the general content of such an idea of the value of human existence, or would it be reducible to an idea of freedom, dignity, happiness, security or peace? Bourgeois reappropriates the opposition, evoked by Bloch, between formal freedom and real freedom, so as to thematize anew the conflict between liberalism and socialism. 2. a second problem relates to the style --or better said, the mode-human rights translate a certain kind of voluntarism or historicism. Hence his question, how can one avoid the imposition of an ideal to history? 3. finally, according to Bourgeois, there is the problema of the locus where one conjugates the social effective reality with the static juridicity, whether by the socialization of the political (―anarchism‖) or by the politization of the social (marxism), or still by the separation between the social fact, regardless of the right, and the purely static right (liberalism). Bourgeois proceeds then to an interesting comparison between Bloch's analysis of natural rights and the one developed by Luc Ferry and Alain Renaut, in the third volume of their Philosophie politique, intitled Des droits de l'homme à l'idée républicaine (Paris: PUF, 1985), where the socialist solution is dismissed, in detriment of a properly republican solution. For these authors, a liberalism such as Hayek's (Droit, législation et liberté, vol. 3: PUF 1983) that overlooks the acquired rights (créances, such as, right to work and social security) by the economic dynamics of the market ends up falling back into historicism, making thus the republican interpretations of human rights even more defensible. The antinomy between rights-freedoms (formal freedoms) and rights-créances (acquired, real freedoms) would be solved through the affirmation of rights qua participation, i.e. political rights of effective participation in power through universal suffrage, assuming the fundamental rights of free opinion, press and association. That is how one returns to the republican solution of the antinomy of human rights through the afirmation of both formal and real freedoms together. Although Bloch and Bourgeois, as well as Renaut and Ferry, refer us Kant's political philosophy, especially to the Kantian distinction between understanding and reason, to the imperative of determinate rules and to the challenge of the regulation of the historical becoming vis a vis the demands of rights socially acquired, these authors seem to overlook the Kantian problematic of the independence of the doctrine of right from both transcendental idealism and moral philosophy. If, as Kersting has convincingly shown, the socalled ―thesis of independence‖ (Unabhängigkeitsthese) attributed to Julius Ebbinghaus, Klaus Reich and Georg Geismann, 10 favors the analytical reading of the principle of right (i.e., that is impossible to be derived from the supreme principle of morality, hence irreducible to the conceptions of universalizability or humanity as an end in itself, as one finds them in the formulations of the categorical imperative), on the other hand, as Pogge argues, the Rechtslehre may as well be developed --and does make sense, following the intent of Kant himself-within a metaphysic of customs, although it can also be taken in a specifically juridical, political sense as a procedural game, according to a constructivist model that has been appropriated and developed 10 Cf. W. Kersting, Wohlgeordnete Freiheit, Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1984; 3. Aufl. 2005, p. 37-42; J. Ebbinghaus, Gesammelte Schriften, II: Philosophie der Freiheit, Bonn: Bouvier, 1988. by Rawls, Habermas and others. 11 I think it is instructive to revisit the Hegelian and Marxist critical transformations of Kant's philosophy of right by their philosophy of history so as to effectively fulfill its formal promises, without the utopian presupposita of their philosophical anthropology, in light of the recent discussions on the relevance of the Kantian Rechtslehre for a theory of justice in our century. The philosophical foundations of human rights would be thus rehabilitated by a reconstructive reading of the Kantian articulation between the levels of transcendental argumentation a priori and the normative application towards the promotion of such rights, so as to elucidate the correlation between universalizability and humanity. 5. As shown in the Introdution to his Doctrine of Right, Kant's important differentiation between rights (Rechte, in the plural) and right (Recht, in the singular) reveals the scope of his own definition and task assigned to a Reine Rechtslehre: ―Da aber der Begriff des Rechts als ein reiner, jedoch auf die Praxis (Anwendung auf in der Erfahrung vorkommende Fälle) gestellter Begriff ist, mithin ein metaphysisches System desselben in seiner Eintheilung auch auf die empirische Mannigfaltigkeit jener Fälle Rücksicht nehmen müsste, um die Eintheilung vollständig zu machen (welches zur Errichtung eines Systems der Vernunft eine unerlassliche Forderung ist), Vollständigkeit der Eintheilung des Empirischen aber unmöglich ist, und, wo sie versucht wird (wenigstens um ihr nahe zu kommen), solche Begriffe nicht als integrirende Theile in das System, sondern nur als Beispiele in die Anmerkungen kommen können: so wird der für den ersten Theil der Metaphysik der Sitten allein schickliche Ausdruck sein metaphysische Anfangsgründe der Rechtslehre: weil in Rücksicht auf jene Fälle der Anwendung nur Annäherung zum System, nicht dieses selbst erwartet werden kann.‖(Ak. B. 6, S. 205f./ AB III) And Kant goes on to say, ―Es wird daher hiemit, so wie mit den (früheren) metaphysischen Anfangsgründen der Naturwissenschaft, auch hier gehalten werden: nämlich das Recht, was zum a priori entworfenen System gehört, in den Text, die Rechte aber, welche auf besondere Erfahrungsfälle bezogen werden, in zum Theil weitläuftige Anmerkungen zu bringen: weil sonst das, was hier Metaphysik ist, von dem, was empirische Rechtspraxis ist, nicht wohl unterschieden werden könnte.‖(S. 207) What must be emphasized here is that the subsequent elaboration of the Rechtslehre towards the Tugendlehre takes place against the conceptual background of this contrast between the pure and the empirical, on the one hand, and in light of the Kantian distinction between morality and legality, or between the internal (belonging to the 11 T. Pogge, ―Is Kant's Rechtslehre a Comprehensive Liberalism?,‖ in M. Timmons (ed.) Kant's Metaphysics of Morals: Interpretative Essays. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002, p. 133-158. fundamental level of ethics) and the external law-abidingness (which is specifically related to right), on the other. As Willaschek put it, ―because Right is restricted to external actions, no one is juridically required to obey the law out of respect for the law.‖ 12 The analogy of the Universal Principle of Right in the Rechtslehre with the universalizability of the categorical imperative in the GMS can be thus misleading, especially as one takes into account the latter's distinction between a genuine moral action, done out of respect for the law or from duty, ―aus Pflicht,‖ and an action that is simply in conformity with duty, ―pflichtmässig.‖(IV 397f.)And yet, the correlated conceptions of moral worth and humanity as an end in itself seem to corroborate a procedural view of universalizability that can be found in both morality and legality, notably in the very issue of standing for human rights insofar as they can be universalized according to the liberal, Kantian-inspired principle of ―equal liberty.‖ Besides the explicit allusions to such a correlation in the Rechtslehre's conjunction of the homo phaenomenon and the homo noumenon, Kant conceives thus of duties, not only in so far as they are duties, thinking of them as ethical, but also of their legislation being itself outside the scope of ethics, as they comply with the external obligation of the law: pacta sunt servanda. In effect, the very conception of Verbindlichkeit is what ultimately may help us bring together the moral and the legal distinctive, albeit complementary aspects of the Kantian view of humans as rational, reasonable beings whose ―free choice‖ (freie Willkür) ought to be self-determined by pure reason alone in order to be said to be actually ―good,‖ or to qualify the only thing that can be morally good, the will (Wille). As the GMS allows for the contrast between heteronomous and autonomous approaches to the classical view of human nature, Kant's refusal of theological, teleological, and perfectionist conceptions and the task of establishing the supreme principle of morality in autonomy qua freedom points furthermore, as Wood upholds, to an extension of ―the conception of humanity, the capacity for setting ends having objective value, to that of personality, the capacity for giving laws which determine all objective value.‖ 13 As Kersting has shown, just as the Kantian conception of humanity is found in his practical philosophy and not in his anthropology, so the equation of humanity and dignity, already formulated in the GMS, is reinforced in the Tugendlehre (e.g. IV 428f., 433) so as to elucidate the normative function of the oft-misunderstood ideal of personality. In effect, ―Menschheit, Würde und Persönlichkeit stehen in einem engen begrifflichen Verweisungszusammenhang und werden von Kant auch häuftig synonym 12 M. Willaschek, ―Which Imperatives for Right?,‖ in M. Timmons, op. cit., p. 69. 13 A. Wood, Kant's Ethical Thought, Cambridge University Press, 1999, p. 158. gebraucht.‖ 14 Hence in order to arrive at the Kantian definition of an action said to be right ―if it can coexist with everyone's freedom in accordance with a universal law, or if on its maxim the freedom of choice of each can coexist with everyone's freedom in accordance with a universal law,‖(VI 230) it is not so much the question of derivation which is at stake as the presupposed idea of freedom which turns out to be common to both fields, even if one cannot derive one principle from the other. 15 Hence one must read the formulation of the fundamental principle of right as a normative complement to the Grundformel in the GMS, as ―right and authorization to coercion,‖according to Kant, are supposed to ―mean one and the same thing.‖(VI 232) In effect, the articulation of the so-called Grundformel or Universalisierungsformel and the Zweck-an-sichFormel in the Grundlegung only comes to its full procedural thrust in the Rechtslehre, precisely because of the call for an effective actualization of the third formula (Reich der Zwecke) through the juridical codification and social, political application of their normativity. 16 6. I should like to conclude with an elucidation of this normative view of humanity. Claude Lefort and others have convincingly argued that human rights and democracy are necessary conditions for the appearance of different opinions and for the emergence of pluralist forums of discussion. 17 Although it is not important to thematize here whether human rights should be conceived in a minimalist, more or less explicit catalogue of basic rights, or whether liberal democracy, juridification and the ongoing process of globalization should come under attack for the very sake of the desirable promotion of human rights, I think the procedural thrust of the Kantian correlation between humanity and universalizability comes full circle in this normative view of free, moral persons who are entitled to concrete claims. In order to meet the claims of political, social, and cultural rights, usually identified with first-, second-, and third-generation human rights, it is inevitable that conflicting, substantive conceptions of religious, cultural, and moral values will compete for an equal say, so that whatever is taken for ―human‖ must be worth universalizing, to carry out such a procedure of universalizability. This is precisely why the Kantian equation of worth with human worth means that the only way to assert that something about being human is ultimately priceless, sacred, irreducible to any measure stick, is being human itself, humanity as an end in itself, the only being whose ends are self-posited. Such a 14 W. Kersting, op. cit., p. 203 n. 199. 15 Cf. P. Guyer, ―Kant's Deductions of the Principles of Right,‖ in M. Timmons, p. 23-64. 16 Cf. H.J. Paton, Der kategorische Imperativ, Berlin, 1967. 17 C. Lefort, L'invention démocratique. Paris: Fayard, 1994, p. 31. Cf. O. Höffe, Demokratie im Zeitalter der Globalisierung. München: Beck, 1999. conception of humanity cannot be reduced to any particular religious, moral, philosophical or cultural view, precisely because each one of them must always already presuppose this very irreducibility that makes worth every religious, moral, and cultural expression. Such is indeed the binding formality that explains the correlation between humanity and universalizability in both the GMS and the Rechtslehre, and in full agreement with Kant's conception of freedom in the three Critiques and in his philosophy of religion: human beings are doomed to be free, as it were, insofar as they are not reducible to natural determinism, as they ought to be rational, reasonable beings, bound by the law of freedom. As Ludwig put it, ―a principle of determination that is not a causal principle of nature has to be a formal one.‖ 18 Kant's formal universalism does not exclude the realization of ends and means set by particular communities and traditions, but rather renders them possible. As Heiner Bielefeldt remarks, ―today human rights seems to be the only conceivable way of shaping human existence in such a way as to do justice both to the reality of radical pluralism and multiculturalism and to the necessity of binding the modern state to a societal consensus based on the recognition of human dignity.‖ 19 In the final analysis, as Walter Schweidler has argued, (1) human worth is relational and not a property (Würde ist Verhältnis, keine Eigenschaft), (2) it is a status, not desert (Würde ist ein Status, kein Verdienst), and (3) it is only noticeable as a duty, not as a privilege (Würde ist nur als Verpflichtung, nicht als Privileg wahrnehmbar). Human worth belongs thus to the overall, endless project of becoming truly human, so that its task (Aufgabe) be at once a claim (Forderung) and a fulfillment (Erfüllung). 20 18 B. Ludwig, ―Whence Public Right? The Role of Theoretical and Practical Reasoning in Kant's Doctrine of Right‖ in M. Timmons, op. cit., p. 168. 19 H. Bielefeldt, ―Towards a Cosmopolitan Framework of Freedom: The Contribution of Kantian Universalism to Cross-Cultural Debates on Human Rights,‖ Jahrbuch für Recht und Ethik 5 (1997): 349-362. 20 W. Schweidler, Das Unantastbare. Beiträge zur Philosophie der Menschenrechte. Münster: LIT, 2001, p. 11-19.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }
Making Something Happen – Where Causation and Agency Meet Geert Keil The reasons vs. causes debate reached its peak about 40 years ago. Hempel and Dray had debated the nature of historical explanation and the broader issue of whether explanations that cite an agent's reasons are causal or not. Melden, Peters, Winch, Kenny and Anscombe had contributed their anticausal conceptions. The neo-Wittgensteinians seemed to be winning the day when in 1963 Donald Davidson published his seminal paper "Actions, Reasons, and Causes". Davidson's paper devastated the Wittgensteinian camp. It contained, among other things, a powerful attack on the logical connection argument. Davidson argued that the existence of a logical or conceptual connection between descriptions can never eliminate a causal relation, which holds between events simpliciter, not between events under certain descriptions. Davidson maintained that in a way, reasons can be causes. When somebody acts for a certain reason, his intentional attitudes, or rather changes in his attitudes, cause his bodily movements. Davidson also argued that rationalization is a species of causal explanation. For the definition of action, he argued that intentional actions are bodily movements caused in the right way by beliefs and desires that rationalize them. Davidson's paper paved the way for causal theories of action, which superseded neo-Wittgensteinian analyses in the following decades. The causal theory was rapidly adopted by Alvin Goldman, David Armstrong, Paul Churchland, Myles Brand and many others, entering the mainstream and dominating the philosophy of action to this very day. In 1971 Georg Henrik von Wright published his book Explanation and Understanding. The second chapter did not deal with agency, but with causation. It developed a new account of causation, the interventionist or experimentalist account. Focusing on causation, von Wright remedied a major shortcoming of the reasons vs. causes debate. The concept of causality, and the nature of the causal relation, received little attention in this debate, a fact that holds true for both camps. Mostly it was simply taken for granted that, as Hempel had declared, "causal ex10 Geert Keil planation is a special type of deductive-nomological explanation".1 One camp then aligned intentional explanations with D-N explanations, while the other camp insisted on their disparity. So strictly speaking, the label "reasons/causes debate" was a misnomer. The controversy dealt primarily with the question as to whether intentional explanations can take the form of D-N explanations, while the notion of causation, and the metaphysics of the causal relation, were left obscured. With von Wright's new approach, the situation changed. Von Wright was primarily concerned with causation, but his approach contained an implicit attack on the causal theory of action as well. His core idea was that the notion of causality is intimately linked with, or even derived from, the notion of intentionally making something happen. Other philosophers, even Hume, had considered such a connection before, but often just to reject this view, regarding it as a kind of myth belonging to the infancy of the human mind. Von Wright took the idea seriously. He submitted the analysis that p is the cause of q if and only if by doing p we could bring about q.2 The causal theory of action was also concerned with the relation between causation and agency, to which its name bears witness. The causal theory of action holds that actions are bodily movements with a certain causal history. This is why von Wright's account constituted a momentous challenge to the causal theory: it reversed the direction of conceptual dependency between both notions. Davidson and his followers tried to define what an intentional action is by using the notion of causation. The causal condition which the causal theory sets is part of the definition of "doing something intentionally". Von Wright claimed that the conceptual dependency is the other way round. He used the notions of doing, and bringing about, to explain what causal relations are. So, instead of a causal theory of action, he advocated an agency theory of causation, as it may be dubbed. It is remarkable how seldom this clash of opinions about conceptual primacy is reflected in the literature. There are few exceptions: Fred Stoutland noticed the conflict, and he published a number of papers in 1 Hempel, C. G.: Aspects of Scientific Explanation and Other Essays in the Philosophy of Science, New York/London 1965, p. 300. 2 von Wright, G. H.: Explanation and Understanding, Ithaca, New York 1971, p. 70. Making Something Happen 11 which he compared Davidson's and von Wright's views.3 Von Wright's book Explanation and Understanding was widely read and discussed in the seventies, especially in Europe. But it strikes me that especially in North America, where the causal theory of action became the orthodoxy of the day, von Wright's challenge went largely unnoticed. Even Davidson did not seem to take it seriously. He nowhere takes notice of the interventionist theory of causation, while he does discuss von Wright's earlier book Norm and Action. As is well-known, Davidson favoured an alternative account of causation, based on "the principle of the nomological character of causality", as he somewhat clumsily called it, or, later and less clumsily, "the cause-law thesis".4 Davidson's firm adherence to a nomological theory of causality may explain why he did not take much interest in alternative accounts. The Interventionist Account of Causation Let me briefly review some features of von Wright's interventionist account. In Explanation and Understanding, von Wright makes the following observation: In the idea of putting systems in motion the notions of action and of causation meet. [...] It is natural to speak of the causes of phenomena as factors which 'produce' or 'bring about' their effects.5 3 Stoutland, F.: "The Causal Theory of Action", in: Juha Manninen and Raimo Tuomela (eds.), Essays on Explanation and Understanding. Studies in the Foundations of Humanities and Social Sciences, Dordrecht 1976, pp. 271-304. Stoutland, F.: "Philosophy of Action: Davidson, von Wright, and the Debate over Causation", in: Fløistad, G. (ed.), Contemporary Philosophy. A New Survey, The Hague 1982, Vol. 3, pp. 45-72. Stoutland, F.: "Davidson on Intentional Behavior", in: LePore, E. and McLaughlin, B. P. (eds.), Actions and Events. Perspectives on the Philosophy of Donald Davidson, Oxford/New York 1985, pp. 44-59. 4 Davidson, D.: "Mental Events" (1970), in his Essays on Actions and Events, Oxford 1980, pp. 207-225. Davidson, D.: "Laws and Cause", Dialectica 49 (1995), pp. 263-279. 5 von Wright, G. H.: Explanation and Understanding, Ithaca, New York 1971, p. 64. 12 Geert Keil This lead-in lays down one desideratum of an adequate account of causation, namely, to explain the asymmetry of the causal relation.6 The notion of bringing something about is clearly asymmetrical, in a way that does not seem to rely simply on the asymmetry of temporal succession. Von Wright's appeal to the notion of bringing about finds a parallel in a remark of John Searle's. In his book Intentionality, Searle states: there are not two kinds of causation, regularity causation and Intentional causation. There is just one kind of causation and that is efficient causation; causation is a matter of some things making other things happen.7 It is no accident that Searle speaks of "efficient causation". The notion of making something happen has an affinity to Aristotle's causa efficiens.8 Now obviously the development, or reconstruction, of a general notion of efficient causation can succeed only if causal efficacy is not confined to human agents. Even if human agents should be the only beings who can bring about something intentionally, intentional actions must not be the only instances of the cause-effect relation. Von Wright surely was tempted to go over to agent causation, but he resisted that temptation. The agent causality model, as advocated by Chisholm, gives an account of the relation between causation and agency that differs both from interventionism and the causal theory of action. Chisholm invokes, or invents, a second species of causation in addition to event causation, namely, agent causation, or, "causality through freedom", as fellow agent causalist Kant called it. This species of the causal relation is supposed to hold literally between agents and events. Adherents to agent causation include Richard Taylor, Randolph Clarke, Timothy O'Connor and Jonathan Lowe. Let me briefly mention what I consider to be the decisive ontological objection to agent causation. Using a bit of jargon, agents or persons are continuants, i.e. Aristotelian substances that persist in time, while 6 Cf. Ibid., p. 42. 7 Searle, J. R.: Intentionality. An Essay in the Philosophy of Mind, Cambridge, Mass. 1983, p. 135. 8 Recently, James Woodward used the phrase "Making Things Happen" as a heading for a general theory of causal explanation: Making Things Happen. A Theory of Causal Explanation, Oxford 2003. Making Something Happen 13 actions and events are occurrents, i.e., dated happenings. (This terminology goes back to W. E. Johnson.) Now Charlie Broad raised the following objection against agent causation: How could an event possibly be determined to happen at a certain date if its total cause contained no factor to which the notion of date has any application? And how can the notion of date have any application to anything that is not an event?9 One might object that it is an exaggeration to claim that the notion of date "has no application" to persons or Aristotelian substances. The problem is rather that these entities, being continuants, simply last or live too long. The acting person existed before her action took place, and she will live on afterwards. For this reason, she cannot be, in a literal sense, the triggering cause of any occurrence. What demands explanation is why this action took place at a certain moment in time, and citing the agent as the cause cannot answer that question. Arguably, that question cannot be answered without reference to something dated, to a particular occurrence, e.g., to some mental event inside the person, perhaps to a decision of hers or a volition. This is Broad's datedness objection against agent causation. It is a very powerful objection, and as far as I can tell is still without a convincing reply. Surely there are semantic connections between agent-causal statements and event-causal statements, but it seems impossible for entities that persist but do not occur to be causes in a literal sense. Most endorsers of agent causality do not take seriously the challenge that lies in promoting continuants to causes. Only Kant bit the bullet. He developed an account of "timeless agency", holding that the initiation of a free act is not part of the temporal order at all. The transcendental subject, he claims, belongs to the noumenal world, while bodily movements belong to the empirical world. Virtually no one has found the view credible that noumenal selves can cause empirical events in a literal sense. Von Wright always steered clear of the difficulties of promoting agents to causes. He holds that when an agent makes something happen, i.e., when he brings about q by doing p, it is the occurrence of p that causes q: 9 Broad, C. D.: Ethics and the History of Philosophy, London 1952, p. 215. 14 Geert Keil I am anxious to separate agency from causation. Causal relations exist between natural events, not between agents and events. When by doing p we bring about q, it is the happening of p which causes q to come. And p has this effect quite independently of whether it happens as a result of action or not.10 So, far from subscribing to agent causation, von Wright conceives of the interventionist account as a superior analysis of ordinary event causation. Now, how does he arrive at his view that p is the cause of q if and only if by doing p we could bring about q? Putting the details of his view aside, let us recall the vital role that the confirmation of causal laws plays in his account. Von Wright starts with a familiar criticism of the empiricist regularity analysis: mere regularities might be accidental. They do not reflect the alleged necessity of causal connections, and they do not support counterfactuals. Causal laws, being nomic truths, would support counterfactuals, but where to get them from? According to Wittgenstein's Tractatus, the world is "everything that is the case". Now in causal reasoning, we make claims about what would have been the case under different conditions, and perhaps even about what must be the case. But how do we establish such modal claims? How does one, for example, 'verify' the counterfactual conditional that if p had not been the case, when in fact it was the case, q would not have been the case either? Counterfactual cases cannot be observed in nature, after all. Von Wright is well aware of this fact: It is logically impossible to verify on any single occasion when p was (is) not there, what would have been the case, had p been there.11 In order to 'verify' the counterfactual statement we ought somehow to make the actual and the non-actual 'change place'. How can this be done? Literally this can of course not be done at all.12 Now, fortunately we are not mere bystanders who merely observe what actually happens. We have the capacity, as von Wright puts it, 10 von Wright, G. H.: Causality and Determinism, New York/London 1974, p. 49. 11 von Wright, G. H.: Explanation and Understanding, Ithaca, New York 1971, p. 71. 12 von Wright, G. H.: "On Causal Knowledge", in his Truth, Knowledge, and Modality (= Philosophical Papers III), Oxford 1984, pp. 86-95, p. 92. Making Something Happen 15 to interfere with the course of the world, thereby making true something which would not otherwise (i.e., had it not been for this interference) come to be true of the world at that stage of history.13 It is important to note that descriptions of ordinary actions already have such counterfactual implications. For example, when we say that somebody opened a window, we imply that the window would have remained closed without his interference. Generally speaking: "Productive action is the producing of a change on an occasion when no change would otherwise have occurred".14 According to von Wright, the test procedure for causal counterfactuals is this: "doing something and noticing that a certain thing follows; refraining from doing and noticing that the same thing does not follow".15 This procedure, which is, incidentally, reminiscent of Mill's "method of difference", "is as 'near' as we can come to the verification of a counterfactual conditional".16 Von Wright hastens to add that this does not mean that causal laws, nomic connections, can be 'conclusively verified'. But it means that their confirmation is not a mere matter of repeated lucky observations. [...] One could say that we can be as certain of the truth of causal laws as we can be of our abilities to do, and bring about, things.17 Let me stop here to take stock. – Von Wright rejects the regularity account of causality, for familiar reasons. Mere regularities are too weak, because they might be accidental. – So he invokes causal laws, which support counterfactuals. He seems to accept what Davidson calls the principle of the nomological character of causality. 13 von Wright, G. H.: Causality and Determinism, New York/London 1974, p. 39. 14 von Wright, G. H.: "Replies", in Juha Manninen and Raimo Tuomela (eds.), Essays on Explanation and Understanding. Studies in the Foundations of Humanities and Social Sciences, Dordrecht 1976, pp. 371-413, p. 376. 15 von Wright, G. H.: Causality and Determinism, New York/London 1974, p. 45. 16 von Wright, G. H.: Explanation and Understanding, Ithaca, New York 1971, p. 72. 17 Ibid., p. 73. 16 Geert Keil – The nomological analysis, however, cannot be the whole story about causal relations, since it leaves open the question as to how to confirm causal laws. – This is where agency comes into play. Our ability to interfere with the course of events, and to make the actual and the non-actual 'change place' hypothetically, enables us to confirm causal laws. The picture that emerges is this: interventionism does not reject the cause-law thesis, rather it fills a gap in the nomological account. Nomic truths, it is said, support counterfactuals, but the very notion of a counterfactual condition is indigestible by empiricist analyses. What would have been the case is not part of the observable world. Interventionism demonstrates where science has to go beyond mere observation, and has to take agency and experimentation seriously. Four Objections to Interventionism A number of objections to interventionism have been raised. These objections are mainly directed against von Wright's analysis that p is the cause of q if and only if by doing p we could bring about q. (a) The first objection says that the analysis has an air of circularity, since the notion of bringing about itself has causal connotations. (b) The second objection, which we may dub the sceptical objection, says that we simply do not possess a reliable procedure for the verification of the counterfactuals in question. It can always happen that our certainty as to having brought something about was deceptive, because the effect was due to some external cause. This can happen even with basic actions, as recent psychological research on the so-called "control illusions" has demonstrated. It just does not seem to be the case that agents have infallible first-person knowledge of their basic actions, let alone of the further effects of those actions. (c) The third objection argues that von Wright's analysis covers only general causal statements. This shortcoming is rarely mentioned in the literature, so let me explain. It is clear that the interventionist analysis of "p causes q" has to be given in generic terms, in order to license causal judgements about cases that are beyond our reach. Von Wright clearly concedes that non-actions also have causes and effects: "Causation Making Something Happen 17 operates throughout the universe – also in spatial and temporal regions forever inaccessible to man".18 So, the interventionist analysis must allow for extrapolation to such cases. But von Wright underrates the price one has to pay for the possibility of extrapolation. The price is simply that the truth conditions for singular causal statements are not provided by interventionism. Being told that an event belongs to the kind of event that can or could be brought about by a certain means does not tell us what in fact caused the event on any particular occasion. One can easily imagine a given case where p was not the cause of an instance of q, even if generally, doing p might be an effective means of bringing about q. Von Wright's generic analysis leaves this possibility open. Recipes, even good recipes, do not always work. In my view, there is a grain of truth in each of these objections, and more than just a grain in the third. But in order not to lose sight of my original concern, which is to describe the challenge that interventionism poses to the causal theory of action, I shall make an attempt to locate more precisely the role that agency plays in the notion of causation. For that purpose, I shall put the three objections aside and bring up a fourth, which is closely related to the third. (d) Von Wright holds that "we can be as certain of the truth of causal laws as we can be of our abilities to do, and bring about, things", as quoted above. Now my question is this: why not simply cut short the detour through causal laws and their confirmation, and turn to counterfactual claims about causal sequences directly? Leaving causal laws aside has at least two advantages. First, it might well turn out that no causal laws are available anyway, that is, no exceptionless generalizations that cover cause-effect pairs are true. Nancy Cartwright's slogan "the laws of physics lie" is certainly an exaggeration, because her arguments apply only to laws of a certain kind. Many laws of physics describe relations between universals, and such laws cannot have counterinstances, strictly speaking, because they make no claims about instances in the first place. Causal laws, however, do describe the temporal behaviour of physical systems, and such laws can be falsified by counter-instances.19 In fact, no one has ever presented a 18 Ibid. 19 The distinction between laws of succession and laws of coexistence goes back to Mill (cf. Mill, J. S.: A System of Logic [= Collected Works VII/VIII], Toronto 18 Geert Keil strict causal law of the kind Davidson requires.20 I cannot substantiate this bold claim here, but if I could, my conclusion would be thus: the good news is that only some laws of physics lie, the bad news is that these are precisely those laws which the champions of the cause-law thesis invoke, and that they need, namely strict laws of succession that cover cause-effect pairs.21 Physical science is doing quite well without strict laws of succession. The laws that physicists are rightly proud of are different in character. The only ones who are left empty-handed are the philosophical champions of the cause-law thesis. The second advantage of avoiding the detour through causal laws is that the task of providing truth conditions for singular causal statements is facilitated. Laws not only support or license counterfactual judgments, every singular causal statement does so too. Von Wright is well aware of this fact, and accordingly, he sometimes weakens the conceptual link between causation, agency and the confirmation of causal laws. Consider the following passage: I do not believe in the existence of a 'causal glue' over and above the fact that, if p causes q, then, if p had been when in fact it was not, q would have been too. The 'causal glue' is the truth of the counterfactual statement, one could perhaps say.22 In this passage, von Wright plainly subscribes to the counterfactual account of causation. According to this view, if an event caused another event, the counterfactual dependence between cause and effect holds regardless of whether we have or could have brought about the effect, and regardless of whether a strict causal law exists that covers the case. 1974 [1843], Bk. III, Ch. V, § 1). Mill also makes it clear that "unless there had been laws of succession in our premises, there could have been no truths of succession in our conclusions" (ibid.). 20 "If c and e are related as cause and effect, there exist descriptions of c and e that instantiate a strict law." Davidson, D: "Replies", in R. Stoecker (ed.), Reflecting Davidson, Berlin/New York 1993, pp. 312-3. 21 For the details, see Keil, G.: "How the Ceteris Paribus Laws of Physics Lie", in: Jan Faye/Uwe Scheffler/Max Urchs (eds.): Nature's Principles, Berlin/Heidelberg/New York (Springer) 2005, pp. 167-200. 22 von Wright, G. H.: "Replies", in Juha Manninen and Raimo Tuomela (eds.), Essays on Explanation and Understanding. Studies in the Foundations of Humanities and Social Sciences, Dordrecht 1976, pp. 371-413, p. 384. Making Something Happen 19 The counterfactual account is weaker than both the interventionist and the nomological account. The question that suggests itself is: What do we miss if we replace interventionism proper with the simple counterfactual analysis? The Counterfactual Analysis of Event Causation On the counterfactual analysis of event causation, as it was worked out by David Lewis, the singular causal statement "c caused e" is true if and only if, – c and e are individual events that both occurred, and – if c had not occurred, e would not have occurred either.23 One may feel inclined to add the third condition that c must have preceded e, but according to Lewis, "backtracking" counterfactuals should not be affirmed anyway, so that the temporal condition is redundant. Yet there is a further condition needed, a clause that fixes certain circumstances under which the counterfactual dependence holds. Without such a clause, it becomes difficult to assess the truth-value of the counterfactuals in question. Lewis himself invokes a relation of overall similarity between possible worlds. To my mind, this move is a characteristic example of explaining the obscure by appeal to the more obscure. But perhaps we can do better. Causal counterfactuals, which deal with events that actually occurred, can be supplemented with a ceteris paribus clause. In the philosophy of science there is much controversy about the exact content of the ceteris paribus clause, but in this case, the clause fixes the circumstances that actually pertained when the causing event occurred. If, in counterfactual reasoning, we were free to change the prehistory of the causing event, the counterfactual in question would no longer have a determinate truth value. For reasons I have explained 23 "If c and e are two actual events such that e would not have occurred without c, then c is the cause of e" (Lewis, D.: "Causation" [1973], in his Philosophical Papers, Vol. II, New York/Oxford 1986, pp. 159-213, p. 167). I neglect Lewis' distinction between causation and causal dependence, because I do not share the sole motivation for this distinction: his assumption that the causal relation is transitive. 20 Geert Keil elsewhere, the ceteris paribus (hereafter cp) clause needed must have an indexical content, so that the hedged counterfactual reads: "If c had not occurred, and if everything else had been as it was when c actually occurred, e would not have occurred".24 The indexical nature of this cp clause, incidentally, precludes its being used to restore the truth of causal laws in the face of counterinstances, for laws must not contain singular terms referring to particular objects, locations or times. Hence, if cp clauses have an indexical content, there can be no such things as cp laws. Indexical cp clauses need singular propositions as their habitat, so that they cannot be used to defend the cause-law thesis. But they can do something better for the theory of causality, as I just pointed out. They are perfectly intelligible if combined with singular counterfactuals. Another advantage of the counterfactual analysis is that counterfactual dependence may cut across the mental/physical distinction. There are many true mixed counterfactuals with physical antecedents and mental consequents, and vice versa. Perception provides examples of the first sort: "If the alarm clock had not rung, I would not have acquired the belief that it was time to get up". This is a counterfactual with a physical antecedent and a mental consequent. In the case of intentional action, the counterfactual dependence runs the other way round: "If I had not decided to raise my arm, my arm would not have gone up". Or, if you prefer the belief/desire version, as Davidson does: "Had the agent not desired that p and believed that q, the action would not have occurred". Note that no special reference to mental causation is made here. Of course, the antecedent of such conditionals describes something mental, but this does not mean that there is a special kind of mental causation. This fits well with Searle's observation: our common sense picture does not contain two kinds of causation. Causation is a matter of things making other things happen, regardless of whether there are mental events in the causal chain – or events that can have a mental description, as Davidson would put it.25 So, the counterfactual account leaves room 24 See Keil, G.: "How the Ceteris Paribus Laws of Physics Lie", in Jan Faye/Uwe Scheffler/Max Urchs (eds.): Nature's Principles, Berlin/Heidelberg/New York (Springer) 2005, pp. 167-200. 25 Von Wright, in his later years, does not even commit himself to the existence of mental causation: "[H]is intention (volition) in doing this does not cause the bodily movements in which his actions may be said to 'consist'. These moveMaking Something Happen 21 for mental causation without making a fuss about it. And that is a good thing. A further advantage of the counterfactual account is that it represents our epistemic situation better than the regularity theory or the nomological theory. As Searle puts it: I am much more confident of the truth of my original causal statement and the corresponding causal counterfactual than I am about the existence of any universal regularities that would cover the case.26 In sum, I submit the view that the detour through causal laws is an aberration, because the counterfactual analysis already yields the correct truth conditions for singular causal statements. I am fully aware that substantiating this claim would require a far more rigorous analysis than space permits in this paper. Among other things, one would have to go into a discussion of alleged counterexamples to the counterfactual analysis, specifically, cases of pre-emption and overdetermination. Some philosophers argue that counterfactual dependencies must be grounded in something factual, since they are not ground-floor properties of the physical world. Well, they are grounded. The truth conditions for singular causal statements are not given solely by the counterfactual analysis. They include the physical properties of the substances involved. For example, claiming that the litmus tincture would not have turned red, had the acid not been poured into the test-tube, will fail to enlighten anyone who has witnessed the experiment. In science, we seldom ask for the triggering cause and leave it at that. Often the causing event is obvious enough, and we rather want to know why the effect produced was F, rather than G. In order to answer that question, we will have to mention the physical properties of the substances involved, further facts about their arrangement and the physical forces present. These properties and facts are what ground the counterfactual judgement. ments were caused by nervous processes." (von Wright, G. H.: In the Shadow of Descartes. Essays in the Philosophy of Mind, Dordrecht/Boston/London 1998, p. 109). 26 Searle, J. R.: Intentionality. An Essay in the Philosophy of Mind, Cambridge, Mass. 1983, p. 118. 22 Geert Keil The Role of Free Agency I promised above to make an attempt to locate more precisely the role that agency plays in the notion of causation. But now it seems that I have parted company with the interventionist analysis altogether, and that, in giving preference to the counterfactual account, nothing of von Wright's insights is preserved. What exactly do these insights consist of? I have argued against making a detour through the confirmation of causal laws, but I have not yet addressed the deeper issue as to how we are capable of counterfactual reasoning in the first place. Von Wright correctly stresses that counterfactual dependencies cannot be observed in nature. The question emerges as to how we come to have beliefs about what would have been the case? Imagine that Laplacean determinism were true. In a deterministic world any given series of events is governed by strict laws of succession, so that nothing could ever have been other than it actually was. There are no open possibilities whatsoever. What about applying counterfactual reasoning about an alternative series of events in such a world? To be sure, with counterfactual reasoning we do not commit ourselves to the claim that the past could have been different. We just say that if the past had been different, this difference would have propagated. But if universal determinism is true, the past could not have been different. That is, any divergence from actuality that we think up immediately calls for being antedated. Our world cannot have been different only at that point in time, the course of events must have diverged before. David Lewis describes is thus: Had I raised my hand [when in fact I have not], [t]he course of events would have diverged from the actual course of events a little while before I raised my hand, and at the point of divergence there would have been a law-breaking event – a divergence miracle, as I have called it.27 Now if determinism is true, this pushing back in time of a divergence from actuality calls for iteration. It seems that if the world is deterministic, then "if a certain pebble had rolled at a moment when in fact it did 27 Lewis, D.: "Are We Free to Break the Laws?" (1981), in his Philosophical Papers, Vol. II, New York/Oxford 1986, pp. 291-298, p. 294. Making Something Happen 23 not roll, the entire previous history of the world would have had to be different".28 Alternatively, agents would have to be able to render the laws of nature false. This second alternative, though, seems even less attractive. Under determinism, our actions could only be up to us if we had the miraculous ability to change either the laws of nature or the past – this is the core of the "Consequence Argument" for the incompatibility of free will and determinism.29 Now if any divergence from actuality calls for being pushed back in time, we may well ask what the point of the demand is that the divergence miracle be predated at all. In the mouth of the determinist, the plea for predating the divergence is simply not sincere, his real conviction being that the divergence from actuality could not have taken place at all, not a minute ago, not yesterday, and not at the time of the Big Bang. It would have taken a miracle to make the divergence possible, but surely determinism does not admit miracles. But if this is how matters lie, then counterfactual reasoning about what would have been the case under different conditions tends to lose its point. If we believed in Laplacean determinism, counterfactual judgements about alternative histories would be futile. We could not explain why we assign truth values to some of these judgements. If the "least overall departure from reality" that we have to consider, according to Lewis, always and indiscriminately requires a world that is different from ours in its entire history, then the whole possible worlds semantics could hardly be justified. Under determinism, it makes no sense to calculate a "least" overall departure from. I find no solution to this problem in Lewis' work. Therefore I take the demand, inflicted by determinism, to reschedule any divergence from actuality back to the Big Bang, or perhaps beyond, to be a reductio ad absurdum of counterfactual reasoning about alternative histories. A fortiori, then, counterfactual judgements could not be used to analyse or elucidate causal judgements. Last but not least, it would be hard to explain how we could have acquired the ability for counterfactual reasoning in the first place. But we do make causal judgments, and we do reason counterfactually about the past. We judge that if the driver had not overlooked the 28 Bennett, J.: "Counterfactuals and Temporal Direction", Philosophical Review 93 (1984), pp. 57-91, p. 68. 29 See van Inwagen, P.: An Essay on Free Will, Oxford 1983, p. 16 and 56. 24 Geert Keil other car, the crash would not have occurred. We even imprison people as a result of such reasoning. And when it comes to intentional action, we not only reason hypothetically that if the past had been different, such-and-such would have been the case, we actually affirm categorically that we could have done otherwise, good libertarians that we are in real life. In what Strawson calls our descriptive metaphysics, free actions are the paradigmatic divergence miracles that need not be predated. And we need such paradigmatic cases in order to make sense of counterfactual reasoning about the past. So the picture I am trying to sketch is this: the counterfactual account gives the correct truth conditions for singular causal statements. It need not be relativized to human interventions, or to potential human interventions. Our belief in the truth of the counterfactual does not depend on whether we were, or could have been, involved as agents. Von Wright's analysis of "p causes q" is beyond remedy. The counterfactual account yields truth conditions for causal statements, but it cannot by itself explain why counterfactual claims have truth values in the first place, nor why we are capable of counterfactual reasoning. This is where free agency comes into play. Causation is not directly linked with agency, but in a more roundabout way. And it is not linked conceptually with agency as such, but with libertarian freedom, with our ability to do otherwise in given circumstances. Of course, none of this amounts to a proof of freedom. Kant is to be praised for his insight that no direct proof of freedom is possible, and that all we can do is check whether anything stands in the way of freedom, i.e., whether there is any reason for not taking the commitments of our ordinary conception of agents as choosing their actions seriously. Kant maintained that rational beings can only act "under the idea of freedom". Nonetheless, he thought of the empirical realm as being governed by deterministic laws. In order to resolve this tension, he took recourse in transcendental idealism. Though we have the "power of spontaneously beginning a series of [...] states",30 we cannot exercise this causal power in the world of appearances. This twist is beyond me, for human actions take place precisely in the world of appearances. Those of us who do not find transcendental idealism credible will crave some elbow room in the empirical realm. If it is supposed to be literally 30 Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, B 476. Making Something Happen 25 true that we are able to act thus or otherwise in given circumstances, then the world must contain open possibilities. None of this amounts to a proof of the existence of alternative possibilities. It is up to physics or to metaphysics to find out whether our world contains open possibilities. But if we look at human agency from the inside, as it were, then we are not concerned with the ratio essendi of freedom, i.e., with the question as to whether or not the way of the world can ever bifurcate, but with its ratio cognoscendi. In performing an action, "under the idea of freedom", as Kant puts it, believing that our arm would not have gone up had we not decided to raise it, we become aware of a range of alternative possibilities. We do not create these possibilities, however. They are real enough, but we would not be in a position to "see" these possibilities were we mere observers of regularities or irregularities. The picture that emerges is that our experience of choosing our actions is the ratio cognoscendi for the real possibility of alternative courses that the world can take.31 If we take our pre-philosophical commitment to libertarian freedom seriously, thinking differently about our abilities and opportunities is not an option for us. It seems to be a built-in feature of our common sense conception of agency that the world leaves room for our choices. In this respect, my result is still von Wrightean in spirit, since he assumes a conceptual link between agency and freedom: [T]he concept of an action, the ascriptions of actions to an agent, belong to discourse in which 'free will' is taken for granted. [...] The 'freedom' or 'free will' of a man consists in the fact that he acts, one could say. [...] The 'mystery' of freedom, if there is one, is the 'mystery' of the fact that there are agents and actions.32 31 This sketch is developed in more detail in Keil, G.: Handeln und Verursachen, Frankfurt am Main 2000, especially pp. 388-95 and pp. 444-57. 32 von Wright, G. H.: "Freedom and Determination", Acta Philosophica Fennica 31 (1980), pp. 5-88, p. 78-9. 26 Geert Keil Causality in the Human Sciences I wish to conclude with some remarks about the role of the notion of causality both in our common sense world view and in the scientific picture. Both von Wright and Davidson had a feeling for the crucial function played by the notion of causality in our world-view. In Davidson's much-cited words: The concept of cause is what holds together our picture of the universe, a picture that would otherwise disintegrate into a diptych of the mental and the physical.33 In order to appreciate this insight, one just has to think of the many mixed causal counterfactuals that we affirm. Common parlance does not care for the difference between mental and physical causes in such judgments. Now contrary to the anti-causalist view in the reasons vs. causes debate, causation is not only central to our scientific world view, it is essential also to the understanding of intentional action, perception, memory and a host of other intentional phenomena. In the decades that followed the reasons vs. causes debate, many causal theories of intentional phenomena were developed.34 As causal relations are essential to the holding of intentional relations between mind and world, the philosophy of mind and action is not well advised to surrender the notion of cause to the naturalistic camp. This is an insight shared by both Davidson and von Wright. Davidson has gone one step further. His official doctrine – the cause-law thesis – is that wherever there is a singular causal relation, there is a strict law that covers the case, whether we know that law or not. For the purposes of his "anomalous monism", it suffices to know that such causal laws exist, whereas it is up to physical science to spell out those laws. But there is a strong counter current in Davidson's thinking about causality. In his later years, Davidson noticed a tension between the scientific search for detailed and accurate laws on the one 33 Davidson, D.: Essays on Actions and Events, Oxford 1980, p. xi. 34 For an overview, see Davis, S. (ed.): Causal Theories of Mind: Action, Knowledge, Memory, Perception, and Reference, Berlin/New York 1983. Making Something Happen 27 hand, and the use of causal notions on the other. Bertrand Russell had referenced that tension before, in his famous paper "On the Notion of Cause". Just like Russell, Davidson says: "[I]t is a sign of progress in a science that it rids itself of causal concepts".35 And again: "Unavoidable mention of causality is a cloak for ignorance; we must appeal to the notion of cause when we lack detailed and accurate laws".36 Now, this insight into the prescientific character of the causal idiom gives rise to an exciting new perspective on the reasons vs. causes debate. I am thinking of the following remark of Davidson's, where he pleads for a reversal of the received wisdom: It is often thought that scientific explanations are causal, while explanations of actions and mental affairs are not. I think almost exactly the reverse is the case: ordinary explanations of action, perception, memory, and reasoning, as well as the attribution of thoughts, intentions, and desires, are riddled with causal concepts; whereas it is a sign of progress in a science that it rids itself of causal concepts.37 So, according to Davidson, the notion of cause, which becomes extinct in advanced physics, finds an asylum in a sphere where the Wittgensteinians deemed it particularly out of place: in the explanation of action and mental affairs. Davidson does not allow, however, that reversed perspective to have repercussions for his theory of causality. He sticks to the cause-law thesis, and he is not prepared to draw Russell's moral, which can be encapsulated in the slogan "the more nomic, the less causal". Davidson still calls the strict laws that he thinks make causal concepts superfluous, "causal laws". This looks to be an unstable position.38 The truth conditions for singular causal statements, i.e., the existence of strict laws, are such that they, if fulfilled, make the phenom- 35 Davidson, D.: "Representation and Interpretation", in Said, K. A. M., NewtonSmith, W. H., Viale, R. and Wilkes, K. V. (eds.), Modelling the Mind, Oxford 1990, pp. 13-26, p. 23. 36 Davidson, D.: Essays on Actions and Events, Oxford 1980, p. 80. 37 Davidson, D.: "Representation and Interpretation", in Said/Newton-Smith/ Viale/Wilkes (eds.), Modelling the Mind, Oxford 1990, pp. 13-26, p. 22-3. 38 For a diagnosis of the tension in Davidson's view, see Bieri, P.: "Mental Concepts: Causal because Anomalous", in Stoecker, R. (ed.): Reflecting Davidson. Donald Davidson Responding to an International Forum of Philosophers, Berlin/New York 1993, pp. 305-310. 28 Geert Keil enon disappear. The literal truth of causal talk, according to this view, is preserved only by a veil of ignorance. Davidson would retort that knowledge of strict laws would only make causal concepts superfluous, not causal relations, which hold in nature between mind-independent events. Unfortunately, he is silent about the question of what causal relations essentially are. His repeated assertion that they are extensional relations applies only to singular causal statements, not to the relations themselves. The tension in Davidson's position can be resolved if we take into account a fact that Russell pointed to, and which Davidson, curiously enough, overlooked; namely, that the strict and precise laws that physicists are rightly proud of, have no causal interpretation, because they are not even laws of succession.39 Still, Davidson is to be praised for having corrected the misconception that causality is essentially a scientific notion. The application of causal concepts is not at all confined to scientific purposes. Nor is it up to any scientific theory to determine the "nature" of the causal relation, or the truth conditions for causal statements. These are philosophical tasks par excellence. In carrying out these tasks, von Wright has made further progress than Davidson. Though von Wright's interventionist analysis of "p caused q" is too narrow, he made it clear that causal judgments turn on our ability to engage in counterfactual reasoning, and that in devising and assessing counterfactuals, we must go beyond the attitude of the bystander who merely observes what actually happens. 39 See Keil, G.: "How the Ceteris Paribus Laws of Physics Lie", in Jan Faye/Uwe Scheffler/Max Urchs (eds.): Nature's Principles, Berlin/Heidelberg/New York (Springer) 2005, pp. 167-200.
{ "pile_set_name": "PhilPapers" }