Wednesday 17 February 2016

Frank Jackson on What Mary Didn’t Know



i) Introduction
ii) Knowledge?
iii) Knowledge By Description & Knowledge by Acquaintance
iv) Mary's New Abilities
v) Knowing How & Knowing That
vi) Conclusion

************************

Mary “doesn't know what it's like to see red”. This argument has nothing to do with imagination (or Mary’s inability to imagine red). As Frank Jackson puts it: “Powers of imagination are not to the point”. This is about Mary’s knowledge (or lack thereof), not her imagination. More precisely, “she would not know” what it's like to experience red. More to the point,

if physicalism is true, she would know; and no great powers of imagination would be called for”.

Knowledge?

The first response to this is to ask what Jackson meant by the word “knowledge” (or by the words “knowledge of red”). This seems like an odd use of the word “know”. How would Mary (or anyone else for that matter) know what red is like? What is the epistemology of knowing red? Even if Mary could sense red: could she also know red (or what red is)? Could she (or anyone else) be wrong about what is or isn't red (i.e., without inter-communal responses)?

Is Jackson’s conclusion correct? That is:

i) If physicalism is true
ii) then Mary would know what red is.

Firstly, Jackson argues that given Mary’s “fantastic grasp of neurophysiology and everything else physical” she couldn't thereby work out the last phenomenal part of red “by making some more purely logical inferences”. Mary can't, then, infer the phenomenal from the purely physical - no matter how complete and exact her physical knowledge is.

Knowledge By Description & Knowledge By Acquaintance

Jackson then makes a distinction which has often been made in various areas of philosophy: the distinction between “knowledge by description” and “knowledge by acquaintance”. Presumably Mary had knowledge by description before she was let out of her black-and-white room. After she was let out, then she had knowledge by acquaintance. In other words, her previous complete descriptions of red weren't enough. On freeing, she also became acquainted with red (not only with red’s physical “supervenience base”, as Jaegwon Kim puts it).

Does this also mean that phenomenal red literally can't be described? This is a position which has been long accepted by many philosophers. That's why colours (or “colour words”) are taught (so the argument goes) purely by ostension – by the teacher pointing to something red and then saying to the student, “This is red.” However, if red is (in effect) purely phenomenal, and taught by ostension, then how can Mary (or anyone else) have knowledge of red?

Mary Acquired New Abilities, Not New Knowledge

I've questioned Jackson’s use of the notion of knowledge. So too does David Lewis and Laurence Nemirow. They do so by distinguishing knowing (or learning) that something is red from acquiring “a certain representational or imaginative ability”. How can the sudden new experience of red (outside the black-and-white room) be a knowledge of red? How does Mary learn something new? She experiences something new; though she doesn't learn something new or acquire new knowledge.

However, something new does happen to Mary. As stated, she acquires a certain representational or imaginative ability. Presumably that ability is to recognise red on further occasions (or to distinguish red from other colours). Though how would she know that it's red unless someone else tells her that's the case? This would be especially relevant if Mary's new experience of red was sudden and had no direct connection to her previous examinations of red’s physical micro-structure. Outside the room she would see something new; though how would she know that it's red? Indeed how would she have known that it was a colour of any description?

Knowing How & Knowing That

Earlier I commented on Jackson’s use of the knowledge by description and knowledge by acquaintance distinction. Now he brings in the “knowing how” and the “knowing that” distinction (as used by David Lewis).

Mary now knows how to recognise red. She has that “ability”. Does she know that it's red? Not if, as argued, she has no new knowledge of red at all. And even with such knowledge, she would still require third-person help (as it were) to tell her that the red wall outside is indeed red.

We can join up the two oppositions here:

knowledge by acquaintance - knowledge how
knowledge by description - knowledge that

However, according to this discussion, neither knowledge by acquaintance nor knowing how are, in fact, examples of knowledge (strictly speaking). Only knowledge by description and knowing that are true examples of knowledge. Alternatively, perhaps we can't have one without the other. That is:

i) We can't have knowledge how without knowledge that. Or,ii) We can't have knowledge that without knowledge how.

Mary needs knowledge that red is red before she can learn how to distinguish red from other colours. Alternatively, she must know something in order to know that it's a colour or that she has had a new experience outside her room. To know that red is red, she must know what red looks like. How does this work for the other distinction? Thus:

i) We can't have knowledge by acquaintance without knowledge by description. Or,
ii) We can't have knowledge by description without knowledge by acquaintance.

This works in a similar way to the above - and for similar reasons. How do we know we're acquainted with something (an x) without the help of some form of description? How do we know we're now acquainted with red without some kind of ostensive definition (or some other kind of help)? We may know that we're acquainted with something new; though not that it's red or even that it's a colour of any kind. Alternatively, red can't be described to us in order to give us knowledge that without our also being acquainted in some way with phenomenal red. Without being acquainted with something, we wouldn’t know what it is that's being described.

Yet what if both distinctions are false disjunctures between ostensibly two alternatives? Perhaps this is like Ned Block’s distinction between “phenomenal consciousness” and “access consciousness”. The difference here is that Block admits that in this case you may not be able to have the one without the other. Nevertheless, this shouldn't stop us making the distinction because it's still, after all, an acceptable distinction.

Conclusion

The important conclusion to all this is that

a physicalist can admit that Mary acquires something very significant of a knowledge kind – which can hardly be denied – without admitting that this shows that her earlier factual knowledge is defective”.

Physicalists aren't, then, denying that extra little something. They only deny the increase in Mary’s knowledge. Thus it's strange that Jackson (at least at this point in his career) still insisted in using the word “knowledge” - suitably reduced to his “of a knowledge kind”. What did he mean by that? A kind of knowledge is still an example of knowledge, isn’t it?

Thus perhaps all this depends on what Jackson and physicalists mean by the word “knowledge”!

References

Jackson, Frank, 'What Mary Didn't Know' (1986)
Lewis, David, 'What Experience Teaches' (1990).

Tuesday 16 February 2016

A Wittgensteinian Fragment on Solipsism and the Self

According to Wittgenstein, the solipsist is contradicting himself when he says, "Only what I see exists." That's because the I/self itself isn't seen in experience. Therefore, like the rest of the things he doesn't see, he has no right to talk about the I/self at all.

As Quine also said, if we have no “criterion of identity” for an object, then we should deny that object any (official) existence. Thus the I/self has no criterion of identity and therefore it should be thrown overboard.

The solipsist doesn't exist by his own standards because the I isn't seen, only the things that the I sees are seen. Thus the subject is indeed “a vanishing point” (Tractatus). There's nothing to see, hear, or smell; but that which the I itself sees, hears and smells. Thus perhaps we should write the I/self in quotation marks because it can be taken as a word without a referent or designation.

What is a person? 

Is it something over and above (to use David Pears' words) “the subject which is living this mental life” or “the subject which is having these visual impressions”? Surely some thing needs to have a mental life or have visual impressions. Or do we just intuitively presume that there needs to be a subject of a mental life or a subject of visual impressions?

Instead of the word 'person', we now meet the word 'subject'; which doesn't seem identical. A subject is a subject of something whereas a person needn't be the subject of something. (At least this is the case on certain readings of the concept [person].)

What is a subject? 

Subjects in subject-predicate expressions are the subjects of predication. Can we predicate anything of the subject? We can predicate experiences or cognitive operations of the subject. For example, when I say "The rose is red", I'm predicating an attribute (or property) of the rose. However, experiences or cognitive operations aren't the same kind of predicate as “red”. These are things the subject does or carries out. The rose, on the other hand, doesn't do red, carry out red or experience red. (This is like saying “John works on the farm” rather than “John is tall”.) Do we have predicates of the latter kind which can be predicated of the subject? We can say what the subject does or what the subject experiences; though can we attribute properties to the subject? It's these kinds of criteria of identity that are missing from the subject. No; the subject has no intrinsic identity-conditions. However, if the subject has vanished, then how can it be the subject of experiences or of cognitive operations? Something must surely experience things and carry out cognitive operations.


Friday 5 February 2016

Self-Reflexivity and Self-Identity


The notion of reflexivity (i.e., to self-referentiality) or, the more closely related notion, self-reflexivity.

We can start off by saying that a reflexive relation is something that certain things can have to themselves. Or, alternatively, literally everything has the reflexive relation of self-identity .(If this is a genuine relation, or, indeed, a genuine property.) Stones are seen, by some, to be self-identical; though they are seen by no one as being self-reflexive. The self-identity reflexive relation (though not the self-reflexive relation) is something everything has to itself.

The self-identity reflexive relation or property, for example, is sometimes called a “strongly reflexive” relation. A “weakly reflective” relation is, on the other hand, sometimes stated as “everything has it to itself that has it to anything”.

We can have beliefs about our beliefs, thoughts about our thoughts, and so on.

A thought about a thought is not self-referential or self-reflexive. It's not the thought itself that refers to or thinks about itself (or even the content of the thought that does so): it's the person who has the thought who thinks about his own thought. The thinker himself is self-reflexive, not the thought itself. The thought is not self-referentially related to itself either. It’s just that the thought itself is thought about. Again, it's the owner of the thought (so to speak) who is self-reflexive (about his thought). The thought (or thoughts) about the thought can therefore be called second-order thoughts. Again, the base thought (as it were) is neither self-referential nor self-reflexive. A thought could, of course, be self-referential; or at least its content could be. However, I don’t think that the thought (or a thought itself) can ever be self-reflexive. The possible self-referentiality of a thought’s content would not also be an example of self-reflexivity.

There is an example of self-reflexivity which is more closely related to examples of self-referentiality.

Once example is what takes place when the self/person analyses the (same) self/person. That is, when the subject and object of self-analysis can be said to be one and the same thing – i.e., the self that analyses is the (same) self that is analysed. Thus, in the light of what we've said about self-referential statements, we can now ask:

Can the self/person both have thoughts (about himself) and also be the object/subject of these thoughts?

This wouldn’t be like the putative property self-identity which was referred to in the last paragraph. (In which it was said that all objects are said, by some, to have the property of being identical to themselves.) There is no such strict identity when it comes to the self/person and the self’s thoughts about itself. On a traditional reading, thoughts about the self come and go; whereas the self’s substance stays put. Thus, on this reading at least, thoughts about the self are not identical to the self itself. And even if we don’t believe in selves as bare particulars, the thoughts about the self would still not be identical to the self the thoughts are about. This would even be the case if part of the self (at a particular point in time) included those thoughts about the self (that has such thoughts). In this instance, particular thoughts about the self can’t be identical to the self taken as a totality at any given time. There may, however, be a partial identity (at least if we accept the bundle theory of the self); though not complete identity (which is the case if we accept the property - or relation – self-identity).

To give a taster of self-reflexivity or possible self-referentiality, here are a few points that put obstacles in the way of such states.

We can ask:

How can a human subject take himself to be the subject of study; as Descartes famously claimed he did when sitting next to his fire?

Perhaps we can never actually get to the essence (or totality or complete truth) of ourselves because it's precisely the same self that's trying to get to the essence, etc. of itself. It is, therefore, attempting to be both subject and object. (In a Cartesian manner, if we can’t discover our own “true essence of mind”, how can we even begin to discover the true nature of external reality?) According to many philosophers, it's a Cartesian myth that we can objectively “perceive” our own minds or states of consciousness. It's not a fact, then, that the mind (or the items within it) are “transparent” to the self-analysing mind itself. Perhaps we can never get to every item or working within our own minds. Perhaps we can't, specifically, recognise that it has been “conditioned” to, say, believe certain things or see particular things in certain ways. To put it bluntly, if it's the self that is analysing the (same) self (or the self that's analysing itself), then the “unseen” conditionings, workings, non-transparent items, etc., of the self (as object) would also be the conditionings, workings, non-transparent items, etc. of the self that's doing the (self) analysis. It could therefore only be a self which is split into two (quite literally) which could be both subject and object at one and the same time. Though then we can simply say that after such a split we will no longer be talking about two selves, encamped within the same mind-brain: not one self that's split in two. And if that were the case, then there would be no authentic self-reflexivity and certainly no self-referentiality.

Proper Names and Individuation (3)



“… the role of the general term is to identify the referents – not to identify the ‘kind of identity’ asserted.” (John Perry, 1970)



The first kind of identification referred to above is simply a matter of ostension: of pointing (which may include a Kripkean ‘naming-baptism’); whereas the other kind of identification is dependent on the “kind of identity”. Michael Dummett expresses the first kind of identification thus:


“A bare knowledge of the reference of the name a will consist…in knowing, of some object, that a refers to it, where this is a complete characterisation of this particular piece of knowledge.” [Dummett, 1991]

Dummett argues against this distinction. He says:


“…there cannot be a proper name whose whole sense consists in its having a certain object as referent, without the sense determining that object as referent in some particular way.” [Dummett, 1973]

Dummett must think that the name, say, ‘Tony Blair’ is a de facto rigid designator: a designator that denotes via the mediation of some concept or description. A de jure designation, on the other hand, is an ‘unmediated’ reference. That is, a rigid de jure designator denotes what it denotes without the mediation by some concept or description.

Can we have basic naming (or the “identification of referents”) without the latter kind of identification? What is at the ostended point? Doesn’t individuation (therefore sometimes the identification of kinds) come before the basic kind of Kripkean naming and identification? Wouldn't this be an epistemological question, rather than an ontological one? It would be a question about our knowledge of an object, rather than (the reality) of the object. It may still be the case (in conformity with Kripke) that we can only know an object to be the object it is through its ontological essence. Here again we see a philosopher making the same distinction:


“Kripke did make a feasible distinction between a description giving the content of a name and merely fixing its referent.” [Jason Stanley, 1997]

According to Marcus,


“the causal theory of names elaborated by Kripke and others. Proper names, unlike definite descriptions, can be used by speakers to refer to objects without mediation of ‘concepts’ or descriptive clusters. They can be used to capture and institutionalise an act of ostension.” [Marcus, 1978]

My argument is that without individuation we can't have ostension. We need to bring along with us the concepts that will help us individuate a given spatial region or physical mass. The concepts don't come from that spatial region or physical mass itself, otherwise we would have concepts that wouldn't necessarily belong to the object within that spatial region or physical mass. Therefore an act of ostension does require conceptual mediation. How would we know when one object ends and another object begins? How would we distinguish an object as an object at all?

The traditional problem was that if referents depended on concepts (or ‘descriptive clusters’), then each person would bring along his own concepts (or descriptive clusters). It was supposed to follow from this that a reference couldn't rely on a single concept or a single descriptive cluster. The referent would therefore be lost amongst rival - or simply different - conceptual contents of names.

Why was it thought that if the reference couldn't rely on specific concepts that it could escape all concepts? Everyone would still be having causal contact with the same referent [see Donald Davidson, 1989]; though that causal contact alone wouldn't tell us which concepts or descriptions were the correct ones (if there are correct ones). If everyone were still having the same causal contact with the same object (or the same spatial region or physical mass), then that wouldn't matter. Different or even contradictory concepts would still be related to the same object or spatial region/physical mass.

Thus, in an indirect sense admittedly, acts of ostension could still be ‘institutionalised’ [Marcus, 1978]; thought we couldn't guarantee uniformity of conceptual choices. The object wouldn't be lost; though the guaranteed uniformity of concept choices would be. And, of course, if different people brought the same conceptual baggage with them, then that in itself would/could generate a certain degree of conceptual uniformity. However, that wouldn't be guaranteed. And it could be possible to generate agreement between different or contradictory concepts if the concepts of the object or spatial region referred back to the object as it is “standardly recognised” [Paul Moser, 1993]. Of course what is standardly recognised would still be a contingent matter. Even the standard conceptual description of the object would still not be the way the object describes itself. Therefore there's no reason to suppose that what is standard today will be standard next week.

Thursday 7 January 2016

Bertrand Russell's Ontic Structural Realism? (2)


Mathematical Structuralism

Bertrand Russell puts the case for for what may be deemed a mathematical structural realism when he wrote the following:

Physics is mathematical, not because we know so much about the physical world, but because we know so little: it is only its mathematical properties that we can discover.” (163)

That appears to be an admission that mathematics is used in physics because we don't know everything that is to be known about the object, condition, event, etc. under description or scrutiny. Mathematical equations and values are the mere bones of the physics. Mathematics only deals with structures; not with what have been called “intrinsic properties”. This position seems to be at odds, then, with the realism of James Ladyman, Don Ross and other contemporary ontic structural realists.

It's here that there are two options available. One, to become a kind of thing-eliminativist and say, “Every thing must go." Or two, one can adopt a quasi-Kantian line and say that there are things-in-themselves (or intrinsic properties); though the problem is that we don't know anything about them. Indeed, as with option one, we can eliminate "substances" or things-in-themselves from our ontology.

Russell then elaborates on his structural and mathematical ontic realism. He states the obvious point that “[p]hysics is mathematical”. And then says that when it comes to the “physical world” it's “only its mathematical properties” that we have access to. Such properties are all “we can discover” (163).

The Maths of Point-instants

In one place you find Russell speaking about “point-instants” which seems to be a perfect example of ontic structural realism. Firstly he tell us that “we can define a point-instant in space-time as a group of events”. Then he he says that

the 'points' (or point-instants) that the mathematician needs are not simple, but are structures composed of events, made up for the convenience of the mathematician”.

This is an articulation of structural realism, not a realism about or towards things. Not only that: when Russell tells us that these structures are “made up for the convenience of the mathematician”, this too sounds like some kind of constructivism – ontic structural constructivism! Then again, the word "structural" (or "structuralism") is, in itself, a tacit commitment to some kind of constructivism.

It is clear that Russell has taken the idea of a “centre” omitting radiations from Werner Heisenberg. Russell tells us that

Heisenberg regards a piece of matter as a centre from which radiations travel outward”.

These radiations constitute the realism of this picture in that “radiations are supposed really to occur”. However, the irrealism (as it were) about things (or about centres) is put when Russell argues that the matter at their centre is reduced to a mere mathematical fiction.

Russell's Kantianism?

Russell puts what can be called the Kantian stance on these issues and problems. Basically, Russell believes that all we have are what he calls the “effects of a thing-in-itself”. Thus Russell comes to the conclusion (as contemporary ontic structural realists have done) that if we only have access to effects (or to external properties), then why not factor out that distinction between thing-in-itself (or intrinsic properties) and its effects (i.e., external properties).

We can now ask about those effects. What is left of the things-in-themselves? In terms of the science of this issue, Russell writes:

We find that energy in various forms spreads outwards from various centres; we find also that such centres have a certain degree of persistence, though this persistence is not absolute...”

Prima facie, this seems like a simple substitution of the word "thing" (or "piece of matter") with the word "center". Instead of a thing “having a certain degree of persistence”, it's simply these physical centres which do so. Nonetheless, it can still be said that these centres are, effectively, things (or pieces of matter). In other words, are we simply debating the correct usage of words here?

Russell continues by expressing the basic science of an electron or proton and why it is that we take them to be things. Thus, in point of fact,

the modern physicist faces cheerfully the possibility than an electron and a proton may mutually annihilate each other, and even suggests that this may be the main source of the radiant energy of the stars, because when it happens it makes an explosion”.

Thus firstly we discover that the electron and proton have some kind of mutual relation with one another. That alone will raise questions as to their ontological reality as separate entities. In other words, if two things - a and b - always have a necessary and “mutual” relation to one another, then what right have we to see them as distinct entities in the first place?

That later possibility is scientifically elaborated upon when Russell tells us “[w]hat can be asserted” about these matters. He writes:

When energy radiates from a center, we can describe the laws of its radiation conveniently by imagining something in the centre, which we will call an electron or a proton according to circumstances, and for certain purposes it is convenient to regard this centre as persisting, i.e. as not a single point is spacetime but a series of such points, separated from each other by time-like intervals. All this, however, is only a convenient way of describing what happens elsewhere, namely the radiation of energy away from the centre. As to what goes on in the centre itself, if anything, physics is silent.” (165)

Whereas earlier I said that the word "centre" was being used as a substitute for the word "thing", now Russell speaks of '"spacetime points" instead. Thus even though Russell says that “what goes on in the centre itself, if anything, physics is silent”, he still feels comfortable talking about "spacetime points".

Reference

Russell, Bertrand. (1927, 1970) An Outline of Philosophy.

Saturday 2 January 2016

Bertrand Russell's Ontic Structural Realism? (1)


Clearly, when Bertrand Russell wrote the following, he was moving away from an ontology of things towards an ontology of events. He wrote:


We must think of a string of events, connected together by certain causal connections, and having enough unity to deserve a single name.”


Bertrand Russell's rejection of a thing-ontology (as well as his parallel embrace of an event-ontology) is both very psychological and Humean in nature. That is, he focussed on the psychological reasons for believing that there are things. He also offered an empiricist account of all things psychological and physical.


To put it simply, Russell believed that there are only events. We mistakenly believe, however, that there are also things. Russell goes on to argue that “[w]e must think of a string of events” as a “thing”. Psychologically this is accounted for by the fact that different events are seen to be “connected together by certain causal connections”. One Humean conclusion to this is that we deem such events to have “enough unity to deserve a single name”.


This movement of things is accounted for - again - in psychological terms. Russell says that when “the events are not all in the same place”, we then “say the 'thing' has 'moved'”. However, such a belief is “only convenient shorthand” (125).

Bertrand Russell then scientifically and metaphysically concludes that “it can be no part of legitimate science to assert or deny the persistent entity”. To assume a persistent thing is to “go beyond the warrant of experience”.


Russell carries on his theme of Humean constant conjunction (as it were) by speaking of a light-wave. He says that these too are a “connected group of rhythmical events” (161). And, as before, Russell rejects the idea that a light-wave is a thing. It is, instead, a “connected group of rhythmical events”. The only thing that can be said here is that I doubt that even scientifically (or philosophically) illiterate people deem light-waves to be things in any strict sense of that word.


In any case, Russell often fluctuates between using the word “thing” and using the word “matter” (or “piece of matter”). And even then he tends to put both words in scare quotes.

Intrinsic/Extrinsic Properties

Russell asks us “what do we mean by 'piece of matter'” (165)? He answers his own question by telling us that “[w]e do not mean something that preserves a simple identity throughout its history”. Now that statement is partly correct and partly incorrect. It's true that any particular thing (or "piece of matter") won't be identical over time. That is, thing O at time t will be different in some - or in many - ways to O taken at, say, t2. In everyday terms, there are things about Paul Murphy which are true in January 2015; though which won't be true of me in February 2016. (The same can be said of an oak tree.)


In other words, a thing or entity needn't “exist complete at every moment”, as Russell puts it. It depends on what is meant by the word “complete”. If it means everything that belongs to object O at time t will not do so at t2, then he's correct. Though an entity doesn't need to be the sum of literally all its properties at every single point and place in time (which was Leibniz's position). It's only the case that certain (essential) properties are passed on from t to t2 to tn. Of course if there aren't any essential or intrinsic properties in the first place, then this scenario can't work and we must take Russell literally.


It doesn't follow that because an x doesn't remain identically the same in all respects over time that it doesn't remain the same in at least some respects.

In metaphysical terms, we call those unchanging aspects essential properties. However, we may not like such a reference to essential properties and want to say, instead, “important” or “enduring” properties [see Quine 1960]. Thus I will loose millions of neurons (or cells) over time; just as an oak tree will loose many of its leaves. Nonetheless, both persons and trees do have characteristics - functional, formal and physical - which last over time. Indeed if that weren't the case, then indeed we wouldn't have any right to keep on referring to a particular piece of matter with the same name over time. I can be said here that Russell does believe that we have no right to use the same name over time because he rejects essential (or intrinsic) properties. Either that or he didn't deem the enduring or important properties of an x to also be essential or intrinsic properties.


The upshot of Russell's position (if only at this time) is that there are no intrinsic or essential properties and, consequently, there aren't really any things or objects. That is, all x's properties are both contingent or external.

Russell's bottom line is that we have no access - either observationally or otherwise - to the intrinsic characteristics of such things. Instead “[w]hat we know about them” is simply “their structure and their mathematical laws”. That is, all we've got is structure and maths. Thus it's structure and maths “all the way down”.


There is one conclusion that we must face here. If all properties are contingent or external, then there's little point in using these terms at all. If I can offer an analogy. Say that everyone in a class can recite the 12-times-table and are consequently all called "geniuses". Thus that term is gratuitously used about everyone in that class. The same is true of all references to "external" or "contingent properties" – they only have meaning in reference to their (as it were) antonyms: "intrinsic" or "essential".

What's the Matter?

Russell offers us a physicist's overview of matter (or of things). He says that 

“[m]odern physics, therefore, reduces matter to a set of events which proceed outward from a centre”. 

Since Russell states that the idea that radiation comes from lumps (or things) is unintelligible, then why is it any more intelligible to say that “events” (or radiation) “proceed outward from a centre” (163)? Is a physical center more intelligible than a lump (or a thing)? Despite saying that, Russell backs himself up by saying that “[i]f there is something further in the center itself, we cannot know about it”. Indeed such a thing is “irrelevant to physics”.


It's here that Russell (yet again) offers us both a empiricist and psychological account of what's happening. The following is the observational or experimental reality, as expressed by Russell himself. He writes:


The events that take the place of matter in the old sense are inferred from their effect on eyes, photographic plates, and other instruments.” (163)


That's right – it all depends on what we observe or perceive. And even when we can't observe an x directly, we can still indirectly do so when various physical effects can be seen on “photographic plates and other instruments”.

Spacetime as a Thing

Russell adds to his rejection of a thing-ontology by telling us about the nature of gravitation and its relation to spacetime. In fact, if anything, in this picture it's spacetime itself that's treated as a thing – if a single universal thing. Russell also says that spacetime is a “system constructed out of events, the 'crinkles' in it are also derived from events” (290). Thus we have both a pluralism of events and a singular spacetime.


Russell also writes about gravitation. He states:


Gravitation, as explained by the general theory of relativity, is reduced to 'crinkle' in space-time.”


As for the specifics of his rejection of a thing-ontology, Russell goes on to say that


[t]here is no reason to suppose that there is a 'thing' at the place where the 'crinkle' is most crinkly”.


In parallel, Russell also says that “matter has ceased to be a 'thing'” (290). However, doesn't the layperson believe that there is matter and that there are also things? That is, things are made up of matter; though matter itself is never a thing. Then again, an ontologist can say that a mere lump of matter can be deemed to be a thing too.

Are Protons and Electrons Things?

Russell fuses psychological (Humean) insight with hard science when discussing whether or not protons and electrons are things. Russell believes that they aren't things. Or, to use his own words, Russell writes the following:


The idea that there is a little hard lump there, which is the electron or proton, is an illegitimate intrusion of common-sense notions derived from touch.” (163)


So what is the scientific reality of protons and electrons? Russell offers us a hypothesis on the matter. He says that


[f]or aught we know, the atom may consist entirely of the radiations which come out of it".

He then predicts the obvious response when he says that it's “useless to argue that radiation cannot come out of nothing” (163). Yet surely that response is understandable. Russell's position here is a little counterintuitive. He states that the something-from-nothing scenario is no less or no more “intelligible” than thinking radiation “comes out of a little lump” (163). Surely it can be said that the idea that radiation comes out of lumps is more (not less) intelligible than saying that it comes from nothing. No matter how inaccurate the idea is that protons and electrons are things (or "lumps of matter”), it's still more believable than stating that radiation can come out of nothing.

Substances and Neutral monism

This philosophical rejection of things will - almost by definition - come along with a rejection of what philosophers traditionally called "substances". In the old ontology, if a thing is a thing, then that can only be the case if it also has a substance. The substance guarantees the thing's continued existence and identity over time. In this regard, Russell says that radiations are “not changes in the conditions or relations of 'substances'” (289).


And just as things required substances to be the things that they are, so all things (or substances) were also deemed to be impenetrable. As Russell puts it, “[i]mpenetrability used to be a noble property of matter” (291). However, Russell writes:


The events which are the real stuff of the world are not impenetrable, since they can overlap in space-time.”


To offer more on Russell's position on ontological substances, Russell himself writes:

It was traditionally a property of substance to be permanent, and to a considerable extent matter has retained this property in spite of its loss of substantiality. But its permanence now is only approximate, not absolute. It is thought that an electron and a proton can meet and annihilate each other; in the stars this is supposed to be happening on a large scale. And even while and electron or a proton lasts, it has a different kind of persistence from that formerly attributed to matter.” (290)


Thus, just as it can be said that the word "centre" has become a substitute for the word "thing" in Russell's ontology; so Russell also seems to think events are things too. This is shown in Russell's articulation of the meaning of the words “neutral monism”.


Firstly he says that neutral monism is monism “in the sense that it regards the world as composed of only one kind of stuff, namely events”.


What about Russell's "pluralism" of entities? He then tells us that “it is pluralism in the sense that it admits the existence of a great multiplicity of events”. It's here that the notion of a thing (or an entity) is resurrected. Russell tells us that “each minimal event being a logically self-subsistent entity” (293).

Thus does that mean that we're left with a simple identity-statement? Namely:


event = "self-subsistent entity” = a thing


References


Quine, W.V. (1960) Word and Object.
Russell, Bertrand. (1927, 1970) An Outline of Philosophy.


Wednesday 30 December 2015

Demonstratives, Sense-data and Individuation (2)



It's the case that even the words ‘this’ and ‘that’ must rely on some kind of descriptive content - at least for the speaker or "reference-fixer". Even if the reference-fixer doesn’t have a proper name or even an explicit description, he must still have individuated the this or the that otherwise how would he know what it is that he's in fact referring to? Which this or which that? This is certainly the case for the hearers.



How does the speaker himself distinguish various x's from various y's? After all, in an act of ostensive definition one could be pointing at, say, the brown on the table, the cup on the table, or whatever. Ostension alone can't individuate a this from a that. And if it’s all a question of sense-data (as it was for Bertrand Russell, see Kripke, 1971), how does the speaker know that the hearer will have the same kinds of sense-data? Even sense-data for the speaker can't in and of itself individuate a this or a that. Sense-data presuppose individuation; otherwise they wouldn’t be the data of something. However, according to traditional sense-data theorists, we move - or ‘infer’ - from sense-data to the objects in the external world. But without prior individuation, how would the sense-data theorist distinguish between relevant and irrelevant bits of sense-data? Presumably when the theorist has sense-data of, say, a table, he'll also have sense-data of the things on the table, the colour of the table and the objects in his general field of vision.

One can see one reason why Saul Kripke (1971) was concerned to argue that proper names have no descriptive content because the definite descriptions of, say, Hesperus and Phosphorus don't coincide. It followed, to Kripke, that proper names mustn't rely on their descriptive content. Indeed they have no descriptive content at all, otherwise how could they be deemed identical? And, similarly, how could we know that they are one and the same thing? Therefore proper names, Kripke argued, can't rely or depend on any descriptive content.


We name or ‘baptise’ what is at the end (as it were) of the ostended point. But what is at the end of an ostended point? Take this view:


“… demonstrative reference, one has reference without any description. But this is merely a myth. Suppose I point to a brown table, and say, ‘This is brown.’ It is not my pointing alone which fixes the reference of the occurrence of ‘this’, for my finger will also be pointing at the edge of the table, or a small brown patch on the table.” 
 

Jason Stanley then goes on to say:


Rather, a factor in fixing the reference of my demonstrative is that I intend to be demonstrating some object whose identity criteria are those of tables, rather than those of small brown patches or edges…[so we have] the massive indeterminacy of ostensive definition.” [Stanley, 1997]


The above may be derived from Quine’s points about ostension:


“There is the question how wide an environment of the ostended point is meant to be covered by the term that is being ostensively explained…the question where one of its objects leaves off and another begins…It is meaningless to ask whether, in general, our terms ‘rabbit’, ‘rabbit part’, ‘number’, etc. really refer respectively to rabbits, rabbit parts, numbers, etc., rather than to some ingeniously permuted denotations. It is meaningless to ask this absolutely; we can meaningfully ask it only relative to some background language…Querying reference in any more absolute way would be like asking absolute position, or absolute velocity, rather than position or velocity relative to a given frame of reference.” [1969]
 
In order to name the object, we surely need to know the object or be able to identify it. If the reference-fixer hasn’t got that far, then how can he even think about the object? How does he know what the object is he's thinking about? How does he know he's thinking about the object and not something else?


The very reference to an ‘object’ (even an object qua object) requires concepts to distinguish or individuate it. What is an object and how do we identify it? What is that object? In order to know and identify the object, don’t we need to know the object and be able to identify it?

References

Kripke, Saul. (1971) 'Identity and Necessity'.
Quine, W.V.O. (1969) 'Ontological Relativity'.
Stanley, Jason. (1997) 'Names and Rigid Designation'.