The elusive quest for existence, or really anything
The ultimate meta-post, in which your humble narrator spews forth scepticism about pretty much everything, in an appropriately long-winded and disorganised fashion without much point.
It seems to me today, that everything we pursue eludes us. Nothing can be pinned down, and the appearance that it can is merely an illusion, drawn from our habit of generalisation (the 'colligation of phenomena'). In any subject to which I might wish to apply my mind, and of which I might attempt to locate the essence – my self, the objects in front of me, the conversation I just had with someone, the truth of such-and-such a claim, the events of last week, the physical world – as soon as I try to find its true nature, it collapses into a mass of fragmented data, and I find that there is nothing tangible at the centre. And no, I’m not just having a bad day. At least I don’t think so.
I – whatever I may mean by that term – seem to exist in the world, soaking up sense experiences, which, for pragmatic reasons and by force of habit and the inability to function without doing so, I automatically categorise and order in my brain. What I see in front of me now is a collection of patches of colours of varying tints. I observe patterns in what I see, and soon find that these correlate with similar patterns in what I feel, hear, taste and smell. There seems to be a straight line formed at the place where the greyness in front of me stops and the brownness starts, and when I apply my hand to the line I find another piece of supporting evidence to the supposition that there is a division between two different objects in front of me. I apply to my memory for instances of similar observations, and recall that this kind of greyness, when last observed in this form, was labelled a computer monitor, and in the past it had performed certain functions, and the brownness was called a desk, performing other functions. Of course these transactions are unconscious, because I am by this time well attuned to the patterns around me and what they signify, and my experience has taught me to trust my senses, that they mean the same thing this time as they did last time.
I do not, at any point in these transactions, have actual contact with the ‘world’ around me – ‘I’ being taken to mean my essential self, wherever it may reside and whatever it may look like; i.e., not my body. I receive consistent information about the world – enough to negotiate my way through it. But the world in which my body lives is merely the mental construction, the map I have collated, of what I assume must be out there, based on the sense impressions I receive. I have no real information about what is giving me the impressions; I have only the impressions.
It is likely enough, I suppose, that the givers of the impressions ‘exist’ in the sense that I act as if they did. On the other hand, it is just as likely that they do not. It makes no difference to me either way, in terms of my experience in the world, and I must assume that I have all the information I will need; but I can by no means claim to know that the physical world has the property of ‘reality’.
I realised last year, and was reminded in my lecture yesterday, that there is no such thing as knowledge – at least not in the absolute sense that we would like to mean by the word. Truth exists permanently, immutably - oblivious, if you will, to my beliefs about it, however well I may feel I can support my beliefs with logical evidence, or any other kind of evidence. If my beliefs do happen to coincide with the true nature of things, then I have knowledge; however, I am unable to distinguish between my true beliefs and my untrue ones, for the truth is not accessible to me. I am operating within an entirely separate sphere. All I can do is try to construct the most consistent epistemic framework I can, within the realm of my ‘knowledge’ – that is, within the realm of raw impressions, about which alone I can have knowledge – a framework that is as free from anomalies as I can make it. But I can never know how well my web of beliefs correlates to the realm of reality. I may hope that the two realms are largely similar, but the possibility remains that they are not.
Everything is thus approximate, tentative, over-generalised and open to revision. That statement itself is open to revision.
Language is particularly deceptive, for its entire purpose and function is to over-generalise. Every word I have used in this discourse is the result the collation of utterly disconnected data, conceptualised generations ago into an essentially artificial but functional ‘category’ and rendered into a socially meaningful form. Hence there is no such thing as a ‘desk’. The word conveys an unwarranted link between all the things in the world given that name, which, in their essential forms, have nothing to do with one another. They merely display many similar properties, and so are grouped together in our minds and given a name, for ease of reference. Again, this is pragmatically necessary, so that we can use a single word to conjure up the image of what we wish to refer to, instead of having to list properties (which we couldn’t do anyway without the same kind of collation of data – for what is ‘solidness’ but another impression we have received on many different occasions, formed memories of, and categorised?).
Of course, as I mentioned before, this generalising function of language is not always conscious; like many things in life, we learn to use it before we know how it works, or fully realize what it is we are doing. Hence, temporally speaking, we don't seem to be colligating phenomena as we go along, because we learn to see the world in generalisations - impressionalistically, you might say :) - and to think on this abstract level, elevated above the realm of raw experience.
So there you have it. I am, when I think the world is defined in philosophical terms (which is not always), an epistemological sceptic, an ontological sceptic, and, if there is such a thing, a semantic sceptic (?). Perhaps my position looks grim and somewhat pessimistic. I don't see it that way, however. It seems to me that there is great freedom within scepticism; whole fields of study that were previously terribly serious can suddenly become playgrounds for creativity. The construction of my worldview becomes an art form, as I seek beauty and proportion in the web of belief I construct. The same is true for science: it no longer need vainly seek certainty, but only coherence, balance and utility. Ideally, it might even learn to laugh at itself. The use of language in everyday life becomes another art form, for words become metaphors, and sentences become images, and whole arguments become a canvas by means of which I seek to guide listeners/readers to an understanding of the concepts in my mind, in a manner as picturesque as I can manage.
In short, the world of impressions in which I live is essentially chaotic, and so life becomes a matter of artistic interpretation.
Also, in case anyone was wondering, this view by no means removes the possibility for faith (in the traditional sense of the word). In fact, it provides a reason for it, for in such a world, all our most basic beliefs are of the faith type; none are justified beyond doubt. Hence we must, if we are to get anywhere, latch onto whatever seems to be the truth. This is quite reasonable.
*
On the other hand, there are other times when I am equally convinced that everything I have just said is nonsense; that, though this is where the logical pathway seems to me to lead, it may be that the logical pathway is bollocks.
Comments/critiques/denunciations welcome :)
It seems to me today, that everything we pursue eludes us. Nothing can be pinned down, and the appearance that it can is merely an illusion, drawn from our habit of generalisation (the 'colligation of phenomena'). In any subject to which I might wish to apply my mind, and of which I might attempt to locate the essence – my self, the objects in front of me, the conversation I just had with someone, the truth of such-and-such a claim, the events of last week, the physical world – as soon as I try to find its true nature, it collapses into a mass of fragmented data, and I find that there is nothing tangible at the centre. And no, I’m not just having a bad day. At least I don’t think so.
I – whatever I may mean by that term – seem to exist in the world, soaking up sense experiences, which, for pragmatic reasons and by force of habit and the inability to function without doing so, I automatically categorise and order in my brain. What I see in front of me now is a collection of patches of colours of varying tints. I observe patterns in what I see, and soon find that these correlate with similar patterns in what I feel, hear, taste and smell. There seems to be a straight line formed at the place where the greyness in front of me stops and the brownness starts, and when I apply my hand to the line I find another piece of supporting evidence to the supposition that there is a division between two different objects in front of me. I apply to my memory for instances of similar observations, and recall that this kind of greyness, when last observed in this form, was labelled a computer monitor, and in the past it had performed certain functions, and the brownness was called a desk, performing other functions. Of course these transactions are unconscious, because I am by this time well attuned to the patterns around me and what they signify, and my experience has taught me to trust my senses, that they mean the same thing this time as they did last time.
I do not, at any point in these transactions, have actual contact with the ‘world’ around me – ‘I’ being taken to mean my essential self, wherever it may reside and whatever it may look like; i.e., not my body. I receive consistent information about the world – enough to negotiate my way through it. But the world in which my body lives is merely the mental construction, the map I have collated, of what I assume must be out there, based on the sense impressions I receive. I have no real information about what is giving me the impressions; I have only the impressions.
It is likely enough, I suppose, that the givers of the impressions ‘exist’ in the sense that I act as if they did. On the other hand, it is just as likely that they do not. It makes no difference to me either way, in terms of my experience in the world, and I must assume that I have all the information I will need; but I can by no means claim to know that the physical world has the property of ‘reality’.
I realised last year, and was reminded in my lecture yesterday, that there is no such thing as knowledge – at least not in the absolute sense that we would like to mean by the word. Truth exists permanently, immutably - oblivious, if you will, to my beliefs about it, however well I may feel I can support my beliefs with logical evidence, or any other kind of evidence. If my beliefs do happen to coincide with the true nature of things, then I have knowledge; however, I am unable to distinguish between my true beliefs and my untrue ones, for the truth is not accessible to me. I am operating within an entirely separate sphere. All I can do is try to construct the most consistent epistemic framework I can, within the realm of my ‘knowledge’ – that is, within the realm of raw impressions, about which alone I can have knowledge – a framework that is as free from anomalies as I can make it. But I can never know how well my web of beliefs correlates to the realm of reality. I may hope that the two realms are largely similar, but the possibility remains that they are not.
Everything is thus approximate, tentative, over-generalised and open to revision. That statement itself is open to revision.
Language is particularly deceptive, for its entire purpose and function is to over-generalise. Every word I have used in this discourse is the result the collation of utterly disconnected data, conceptualised generations ago into an essentially artificial but functional ‘category’ and rendered into a socially meaningful form. Hence there is no such thing as a ‘desk’. The word conveys an unwarranted link between all the things in the world given that name, which, in their essential forms, have nothing to do with one another. They merely display many similar properties, and so are grouped together in our minds and given a name, for ease of reference. Again, this is pragmatically necessary, so that we can use a single word to conjure up the image of what we wish to refer to, instead of having to list properties (which we couldn’t do anyway without the same kind of collation of data – for what is ‘solidness’ but another impression we have received on many different occasions, formed memories of, and categorised?).
Of course, as I mentioned before, this generalising function of language is not always conscious; like many things in life, we learn to use it before we know how it works, or fully realize what it is we are doing. Hence, temporally speaking, we don't seem to be colligating phenomena as we go along, because we learn to see the world in generalisations - impressionalistically, you might say :) - and to think on this abstract level, elevated above the realm of raw experience.
So there you have it. I am, when I think the world is defined in philosophical terms (which is not always), an epistemological sceptic, an ontological sceptic, and, if there is such a thing, a semantic sceptic (?). Perhaps my position looks grim and somewhat pessimistic. I don't see it that way, however. It seems to me that there is great freedom within scepticism; whole fields of study that were previously terribly serious can suddenly become playgrounds for creativity. The construction of my worldview becomes an art form, as I seek beauty and proportion in the web of belief I construct. The same is true for science: it no longer need vainly seek certainty, but only coherence, balance and utility. Ideally, it might even learn to laugh at itself. The use of language in everyday life becomes another art form, for words become metaphors, and sentences become images, and whole arguments become a canvas by means of which I seek to guide listeners/readers to an understanding of the concepts in my mind, in a manner as picturesque as I can manage.
In short, the world of impressions in which I live is essentially chaotic, and so life becomes a matter of artistic interpretation.
Also, in case anyone was wondering, this view by no means removes the possibility for faith (in the traditional sense of the word). In fact, it provides a reason for it, for in such a world, all our most basic beliefs are of the faith type; none are justified beyond doubt. Hence we must, if we are to get anywhere, latch onto whatever seems to be the truth. This is quite reasonable.
*
On the other hand, there are other times when I am equally convinced that everything I have just said is nonsense; that, though this is where the logical pathway seems to me to lead, it may be that the logical pathway is bollocks.
Comments/critiques/denunciations welcome :)
posted by Kat | 3/10/2005 03:47:00 pm
36 Comments:
Heh - I love it :) Welcome to the dark side of the moon.
However, occam's razor would lead us to believe that reality, in itself does exist, and complexity theory would support this in suggesting that the probability of all people having the same idea of what "solidness" means is extremely low without there being a real world in which things are actually "solid" from which to base their assumptions.
In saying this however, our conclusions, and rationale for them is only ever as valid as our most independant evidence. As we are all creatures of "reality", and experience this through senses, we are thus incapable of independantly proving that reality does in fact exist. We can infer that it does through our own experiences, or suggest that it would be unlikely that it does not exist at all, but absolute proof is something that our current state does not support.
If I may offer a parallel, I encountered a similar, yet far smaller dilemma last year while studying intimate relationships. There was a more 'scientific' way of describing intimate relationships, in terms of assortive mating, parental investment theories, etc etc. However, I soon realized these ways of describing reality may be more comprehensive, more accurate, but they didn't consititute a valid basis for construct a framework on what to do in an intimate relationship. If I was to apply these theories, I'd be more single that I am now. Why? Because these descriptions were not designed to be used as a basis for primary behaviour, but were designed as an analysis of behaviour.
So, to apply this to your situation, I am not sure uncertianty is a good basis to build ones worldview around. We need to appreciate what you have put forth, that our world view might be wrong, but at the same time, when we hold something to be true, we still need to believe it for ourselves.
I appreicate that my perspective is different from your own, coming from a background in psychology rather than philosophy. But my meta-beliefs about the world leads me to believe that my beliefs may well be flawed, yet at the same time my meta-beliefs provide reasons for holding onto the beliefs despite this.
I'm fairly sure I haven't explained it very well, so counter-feedback is appreciated.
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Just read mike's comment, to which I would like to add:
The only way we can measure other people's view of reality is through this reality itself. So to do so, you need to assume solidness. You do this, discover others share the same solidness, which proves solidness, assuming solidness. Yay.
When we hold something to be true, we still need to believe it for ourselves.I would disagree with you Nathan. Assume for a second that we are currently incapable of knowing everything. How do you know that something you take to be "true" is not affected by something that you have not accounted for?
Say for example you purchase a car without having the slightest notion that you need to put petrol in it. The petrol gauge is broken, so you associate turning the key and stepping on the pedal with the car working. You have no reason to suspect that you need to put petrol in it to keep it running. This constitutes your belief in "reality".
The car runs out of gas. You now have to alter your perception of rality to include the fact that cars need petrol. Thus what you believed before this event was not truth at all, but an approximation of it.
Now assume that you are incapable of experiencing everything there is to experience. If our perception of reality is based on experience, then irrespective of the earlier argument of whether reality does in fact exist at all, then it follows that we cannot achieve a completely accurate perception of reality.
Thus our worldview is based on assumptions. Surely it is better to accept the fact that there is no possible way to have absolute knowledge about anything?
My assumptions are fallible. Some of them are more fallible than others. My assumption that gravity generally works in a downwards direction is based on more evidence than the assumption that pink elephants live on the moon, thus I put more trust in my assumptions about gravity than pink elephants.
However, I have not been everywhere on earth, and I do not know how gravity actually works, so it could be possible that there is some condition that allows gravity to work upwards that I am unaware of. As such I need to accept that as a possibility, if an unlikely one.
I said "...we need to appreciate what you have put forth, that our world view might be wrong, but at the same time, when we hold something to be true, we still need to believe it for ourselves."
Most of your comment was telling me what I had already agreed apon in the sentence previous.
I would note that in all your examples, the probability of you being incorrect is relatively low, which means its is reasonable to assume that they are correct. We know that there is a possibility that we are wrong, yet we assume anyway. Why? because if we don't, our lives will be stagnant, and we will be unable to act.
In most cases, assumptions are all good, because there are no other reasonable options, and even the options that do exist are unclear as to how you should act in the light of them. Hence a solidness assumption is good - we assume reality is real, because there is nothing to indicate otherwise, and nothing to tell us how we should act if it was not real.
What I'm saying is, recognize that assumptions are assumptions, but in most cases we need to continue to assume.
So I guess I disagree with the notion that we operate in an "entirely separate sphere" to truth, (at least in its application) because I think its taking philosophy too far.
Just another comment, The only way we can measure other people's view of reality is through this reality itself. So to do so, you need to assume solidness. Surely whether you assume solidness or not for the methods of communication has no bearing on whether or not solidness exists.
Just because I assume that telephones work by little ants running up and down the wires with bits of paper messages doesn't mean I can't use it to discuss with someone how the telephone might work. All that I need to know is that it does.
Unless you want to get into the argument that our assumptions define reality - which is a cool topic on it's own. i.e. because we assume solidness, solidness exists, and the whole universe is created by us thinking about what it should be. A-la "Small Gods" by Terry Pratchett. I quite like the idea of an eater of lost socks..... :)
You just assumed other people exist. :P
Sorry, I think I misused the term solidness - thinking it refered to reality as being real, tangible, solid.
I think I'm gonna go back to the start and write a post of my own about this. My thoughts have been further refined.
Just to clarify my position - (I actually think we are in agreement).
It is beneficial to work with what we have - To use the assumptions that we generate. However saying "it was reasonable to assume the car didn't need petrol" does not help the person who is stuck out in the middle of nowhere with a non-responsive car.
In all things we need to realise that assumptions are all we have. As well as making us better prepared for when we might be erroneous in these assumptions, it prevents reality from caving in when things happen that we don;t expect.
If, to take the car owner's example, he believed that his worldview was entirely accurate, the incident with the petrol would have caused him to question every other belief that he had, as he took all of them on faith. If one fails, how can he NOT question everything else?
In admitting our own fallibility, we prepare ourselves for the inevitability that we are sometimes wrong, as well as ensure that we do not dismiss entirely possible phenomena out of hand. Most techonological advancements have been as a result of people refusing to accept what other people took to be reality.
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And yes, I did just assume that other people exist, but I have a rationale for that assumption :)
The way I see it either all other people are consciousnesses unto themselves (physical bodies aside), or slightly less plausibly aspects of my own consciousness that I am unaware of.
My proof for this? My ability to learn new concepts. If other people were figments of my (conscious) imagination then the sum of knowledge in the universe would be my own. However as I can learn new things, then either more than my own consciousness exists, or I am part of a larger consciousness, yet unaware of the other parts.
Is this a case for me being a figment of someone else's imagination?
While I am on a roll I thought I would question some of the post content for once :)
In short, the world of impressions in which I live is essentially chaotic, and so life becomes a matter of artistic interpretation.While I do agree that the sensory impressions that we recieve can seem chaotic, the more input data that we recieve, the better we are able to interpret the world around us. Much like babies who can't do much for the first year or so but eat, sleep and throw up, they are making sense of the world around them.
If we assume that reality does in fact exist, or at least, even if it doesn't the sensory interpretations that we get from it are consistent, then presumably, most people have the same "artistic impression" of the world. (Assuming they have had similar experiences). In which case the world is not chaotic at all, but has an underlying order, which I find quite comforting.
Heh, nice to know I've given you lads something to do all day :)
Yes, that's a good point Mike. I suppose my fluffy notions about artistry fall down somewhat over the fact that everyone, in the overwhelming majority of what we come up with, creates the same portrait. The implication being that most of the time there really isn't room for creativity because the evidence is so overwhelmingly in favour of one particular interpretation. It's just on the rough edges that we can have some fun. Except for the odd looney who takes up the challenge of offering an alternative interpretation for the 'fundamentals' of our construction...
Hm, this does sound a bit like social constructionism in a way (ie, like what Mike was saying about reality coming into being as we form concepts about it, only understood in a collective sense). The crucial difference is, though, that a social constructionist would say we actually create reality, whereas I think we create the understanding of reality within which we operate, but that reality remains untouched by any of this.
Except, of course, insofar as our minds and ideas themselves constitute a part of reality, in which case we do influence reality, because something in the world, namely my consciousness, is altered in its nature (maybe...) when I change my mind. (Although I think I was arguing that the consciousness dwells in a separate sphere. Hm...)
Not to mention the fact that the beliefs I hold will in turn influence the way I behave, and therefore the effect I have upon the world. It might be open for debate as to whether my changing things in the physical world (eg my decision to cut down a tree rather than not cutting it down) can be considered 'changing reality', but at any rate I have the ability to influence other minds.
But I think this is getting a little silly...
What do you mean starting to get silly? Still, is fun to debate though.
I'm not convinced that the percieved ability to learn new things is evidence of other people.
First, if people were a figment of your imagination, you would have had to come up with new information to create them, so I see no reason why they can't create more information. In fact, they could be part of your subconscious mind - its a fairy established fact that we think in ways analagous to what we are thinking about (e.g. mental rotation is very similar to ordinary rotation), so it wouldn't be inconcievable that your figments of your imagination were feeding on your subconscious, or even that you were thinking through them.
Secondly, you've only considered one alternate reality. What if you are a brain in a jar with the spinal cord connecting to a computer? Other people may just be programs, and they could easily put more information in.
Ok, this is a little bit similar to mike's 'if we assume reality exists' comment:
To add to it, it is reasonable that we can assume reality exists as reality. We don't have any evidence to the contary, nor any alternatives. So we may as well live as if this is real, because we've no idea how it would be best to live if it wasn't. If reality is a figment of our imagination, big deal. If we're trapped in a mad scientist's lab, big deal! Knowing about it isn't going to help us. If reality is real, then we ought to live well in accordance with it.
In this reality we learn that there is really only one truth. There are often two sides to it, but there is only one correct answer. So this reality we observe is concrete, and not a nice mental construction. Intra-theory consistency is not nearly as important as the theories consistency with reality.
What is more, in this reality we observe in others that those whose theories are more consistent are often better off. Good theories are rewarding. If you know something, and it is correct, you are at an advantage. In this way, our perceptions of reality are dynamically interrelated with reality. Thus if we assume reality exists, our theories can be true, and concrete.
Additionally, even if reality does not exist, nevertheless, our perceptions of reality greatly affect our quality of life. Even if it is incorrect, assuming that reality exists is good for us - because a good theory is benifical (as previously outlined).
So, life is better if you can assume reality exists. Additionally, beliefs are dependant on reality, and thus the best measure of their validity is not their internal consistency, or asthetic 'goodness', but its consistency with reality.
Lastly, a question to add more fuel to the fire:
Would God ever have reason to doubt the context of his existance?
I feel as if I have been misinterpreted here. I did not say that I had proven the existence of other people. I merely said it suggested the existance of other consciousnesses that I am unaware of. Be they independant of my own, or some other aspects of my counsciousness that I am unaware of I do not think I can determine.
As to your suggestion of the brain in a jar analogy - have you not just admitted the existance of other sentient life? Surely to rig up an experiment like that requires intelligent thought, much like the intelligence required to write the computer programs of other people.
One possibility that I have not yet fully considered is that maybe my knowledge was infinite, and I created the world in which I find myself, but have since forgotten/blocked out the areas of my conscious self that exist in the world but I am unaware of. In which case, surely that is just the same as having other consciousnesses in existance? Whether I created them or not, if they can function independantly of me, then does that not make them a seperate entity?
Parents create children, but they have no control over the inner workings of their minds, and they are deemed to be independant people in their own right.
Also, I am not convinced with your "it's better to assume reality exists" statement. As a scientist at heart, the existance or not of reality is an immutable truth, and irrespective of whether or not it is better to assume it does, it is a truth that I think would be beneficial to discover, if only from an academic standpoint.
As to God questioning his own existance, it depends on if God is who we think he is. If he is all-knowing, then no, I don't think he would question his own existance, as he would know whether he did or not :P
Actually another thought.... couldn't I just as easily be a figment of someone ELSE's imagination?
If other people could be disconnected parts of my consciousness, could't I just as easily be disconnected parts of someone else's?
I suppose that would only work if EVERYONE were similar lost bits of consciousness in the mind of a very large "host".
Sorry, I thought you were saying you meant that the people you are talking to also posses a similar consciousness.
In my brain in a jar analogy, is it not possible that non-sentient robots have somehow created your consciousness, and plugged programs into you that you interpret as being conscious. Its improbable, but not impossible.
So your knowledge is finite, and succeptible to natural randomizations and so forth (robots), which you interpret as other consciousnesses.
Besides, the point is that the people who you are interfacing with may not be real. If others have consciousness, and don't interface with you, what does it matter? For all intents and purposes, only those who you interface with matter. right?
Your fragmented consciousness holds merit, as does the fact that you may not be the primary consciousness. Weirod.
To defend my assumption that reality is real: The Academic World is a subset of the Reality that it exists in. So therefore, you cannot prove academically that reality exists, because academia exists within reality, by following it, you assume reality exists.
At the same time, you can never prove reality exists. (Even if you were to find that we actually are brains in jars, how do we not know we are brains in jars in the imagination of a robot (who could be trapped inside a matrix)). The type of claim that reality doesn't exist can never be disproved. So, the best working hypothesis is that reality exists. Scientifically this is falsifiable, making it a good hypothesis. I think enough attempts have been made to disprove this, so scientifically we can assume that reality is real. It would be unscientific to have an undisprovable working hypothesis.
As far as God not having to deal with this problem - just imagine I put your brain in a jar, and created a system by which you had the status of god over the entire system. So you have power over all you know, ad all knowledge. In the system you are omniscient, and omnipotent. Are you God? To anyone in the universe you probably seem like it. But to me? Not at all, you're a brain in a jar.
All this leads me closer and closer to a conclusion: Whatever system we are in, we can only operate in this system (and sub-systems if you're into mmorpgs), but not at a higher level. Therefore, what's the point?
wahoo! blogger's not blocking me! yay just wanted to say - to break up the nathan/mikeness of the comments - I can't believe you were posting awhile back about not being smart - this post was brilliant! I didn't follow it all, (except for the langauge bit :D ) which makes me wonder about my true arts-student-ness, but... excellent :D
And Andrew only did toilet ducks on his bday as a C.U fundraiser I think, so there is hope yet!
Hmmm Katherine... someone's clearly been taking Phil 233. What annoyed me about that course was the number of obviously stupid positions that they explain... the "answers to skepticism" that don't answer anything at all. I assume by your comments that they've been through the JTB analysis of knowledge... perhaps philosophy's single worst acheivement ever IMO... how can trained philosophers make such serious mistakes about such a simple matter?
I think your statement "for pragmatic reasons and by force of habit and the inability to function without doing so, I automatically categorise and order in my brain." captures the situation perfectly. I came away from 233 with the strong impression that a lot of philosophers have wasted a lot of time over logical justification when they should have been paying serious attention to prudential justification (pragmatism).
an epistemological sceptic, an ontological sceptic, and, if there is such a thing, a semantic sceptic.
Welcome to the club.
In fact, it provides a reason for it, for in such a world, all our most basic beliefs are of the faith type; none are justified beyond doubt.
In Phil 229 (phil of religion) we've actually been looking at exactly that: considering different proposed models of belief structure and whether faith stands without need of logical justification. Again I don't think the philosophers are paying enough attention to prudential justification... the logical conclusion I came to many years ago was that if someone wants to have a standard religious belief then that provides enough justification in itself to rationally validate having it.
"It would be unscientific to have an undisprovable working hypothesis."
That's not a good philosophical reason though Nathan. For a period of time a belief that stuff like this should be falsifible was the fad in philosophy but that type of thinking died a horrible death due to many logical problems.
But your argument was good when you said:
====
it is reasonable that we can assume reality exists as reality. We don't have any evidence to the contary, nor any alternatives. So we may as well live as if this is real, because we've no idea how it would be best to live if it wasn't. If reality is a figment of our imagination, big deal. If we're trapped in a mad scientist's lab, big deal! Knowing about it isn't going to help us. If reality is real, then we ought to live well in accordance with it.
.....
Whatever system we are in, we can only operate in this system (and sub-systems if you're into mmorpgs), but not at a higher level. Therefore, what's the point?
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Every time I read your posts, Katherine, I am amazed. Are you a Philosopher? If not, Maybe you should re-consider your calling. You know how to ask the questions and, it seems like, answer them. I love your blog and am always checking it for new posts. Keep posting,
Conserve Terms:)
After an epiphany while driving home last night, I feel the need to revise my argument. My entire argument thus far has been that it is desirable to determine the cause of any given effect, because in doing so you may gain abilities in which you can prevent the occurance from happening again (if undesirable), or promote it, (if desirable).
Take rain for example. We could just assume that rain happens. Water falls from the sky. Don't know why, and don't really care.
My previous argument would have suggested that determining the cause for rain (excess water condensation in the stratosphere), was desirable. However, even now when we have discovered the cause for rain, we still cannot make it rain in one place more than the other. We can't even predict it with any real accuracy.
Thus I would like to withdraw my previous statement that knowledge for knowledges sake is always desirable. In saying this however, given our knowledge about rain, someone could independantly suggest the existance of snow. Is this significant?
Is it important to tie the notion of snow and rain together? Based on Nathan's argument, it has no relevance to us and how we live our lives, so no.
What if snow did not exist in nature? (The coldest point on earth was above zero degrees for example) Is it desirable to determine the capabilities of our universe? If we decided to try and build a jet aircraft, having no notion of snow, then the plane would fall out of the sky as water condensation froze to the wings.
Though snow and ice had no impact on our lives at all while living in our natural state (not in jet-planes), and thus being outside our definition of 'reality' (reality being defined as anything that affects us, or we have an effect on), it nonetheless is a problem, as it undoubtedly affects the lives of the pilot's families.
So while 'ice' was defined to not exist in our reality, it still had an effect on us. Does this mean that
with every technological advancement (jet planes), we redefine reality, or there is some underlying reality that parts of are being continuously unlocked?
This ties in with my argument earlier that our perception of reality is not reality at all, but an approximation of it based on our experiences. Just because we have not yet experienced something does not mean that it doesn't exist, and just because it hasn't affected us in the past does not mean that it won't affect us in the future.
Thus, I am back to where I started. It is desirable to determine the cause of any given effect, but also to not discount the possibilities that the knowledge of the cause implies.
Andrew: yes I'm taking 233, but have been thinking about this stuff since last year when I took 'Philosophy of Science'.
Presumably, the point of explaining the stupid theories in 233 is to show up the good ones for what they are, ie., to show us how not to go about trying to disprove them. Well, that might not be the intention from the lecturer's point of view, but all the same I don't think it's a total waste of time.
Re. JTB: yes, it seems rather flawed to me too, though I'm now having to re-evaluate my reasons as to why, since yesterday's lecture confused me somewhat. My previous argument was that the Justification part has nothing to do with the matter, and that I have knowledge if and only if my Beliefs co-incide with Truth, even if I have no idea why I believe something and can give no satisfactory reason for my belief. Likewise, no matter how well I can justify my belief, if it is wrong, I don't have knowledge. Therefore justification is irrelevant, except for the fact that it is generally what gives rise to belief.
What I'm unsure of is whether I should define belief, then, as [rational] justification, or as a psychological state of certainty. I'm not quite convinced that there could ever be cases where a person really believes something without supposing himself to be justified, even if only by rather obscure and shaky evidence (eg his faith in his own clairvoyance, based, perhaps, on previous cases of success). Obviously there are people with some very odd beliefs, but I doubt any of them are really arbitrary, and that they could give no explanation whatsoever of what has led them to their beliefs.
The other side of the question that arises is: if I am an epistemological sceptic, I am likely to be extremely cautious in saying I believe anything. In many cases I will simply say that I am thus far persuaded that something is probably true; I will, in other words, seldom - if ever - reach a state of psychological certainty. Have I, then, shot myself in the foot by saying knowledge requires belief? Do I have to let go of my scepticism to attain knowledge? Is someone who latches onto beliefs very easily therefore more likely to attain knowledge than I am? This seems most unfair.
So you see I've got myself into somewhat of a tangle. I suspect that the answer lies in redefining my terms somehow; I am probably doing something along the lines of confusing justification from my own limited perspective, with true justification, ie that which proceeds from the true state of things, which I cannot attain. Or perhaps I am using the two different kinds of belief interchangeably, and shouldn't be doing so. But I have not yet had time to sit down and sort it out in my head. Ideas anyone? If you're still watching this post :)
Mike, I think part of the reason this post has been so big is because we've assumed we're disagreeing. In actual fact, I think we're just discussing different parts of the world-system - I've been looking at reality, whether the sensory information we get is reliable, whereas you tend to be extending it to a greater extent.
Katherine, as a psychology student, I suggest you could try defining 'know' behaviourally - ergo, you know a truth if you live by it. I believe this is also biblical. Kinda gets messy if you are living a belief that you disagree with. But, perhaps this is just a piece of the puzzle?
As far as non-skeptics gaining knowledge more quicker than us, it does depend on definitions. I don't know if its quite as unfair as you make it out, as they are more likely to gain incorrect knowledge. So skepticism has its benifits.
(But bear in mind that the difference between 90% certianty and 95% certianty amounts to a lot of thinking, but little pratical benifits)
Lol - I'm just impressed that you managed to read that far to pick it up!
For your information, the fairies have been, and will continue to talk to me. Whether or not they talk to others isn't up to me, all I know is that somehow they think I'm worthy of being talked to.
Hey, Katherine. I think you need to update. I am still watching this post, but I do not have any ideas for you, sorry.
Hmmm nathan and fairies and fairies at the House of Heresy - this explains a lot... could this possibly be a record of most comments on a post by a CUer? I wonder how many more comments you can get on this post?? Will it reach 40?
Hehe, you must visit this post sometime. Apparently Nato has an even more abundant one from back before my time.
wow, that's impressive! Either way, they're both your posts :)Kind of funny if you think about the type of posts everyone comments on lots :P
Well, the previous records have been somewhat tainted.
My earlier one of 55 was with an old comments system, and thus people may claim that it is invalid because their length is far shorter. However, the blogsphere was smaller then. Meh - the post was on girl-guy relationships.
Next (or first) was Katherine's 51, on guy-girl relationships
Then theres my post on whether or not you should accept / apply for a free mason scholarship. (39 comments)
Credit has to go to the number of posts we had a while ago on guy-girl relationships (I think the last one was Reuben's, with 29 comments), because of the sheer number of posts and comments on those posts that were connected to them.
[Incidently, people should really link to articles when your thoughts are related - it makes is really hard to look back at all of them when they aren't connected]
This post is somewhat unique in that there weren't too many contributers. 34 is a good effort considering that.
My new thought: philosophers always get really hung up about wording and definitions - and rightly so, because language is all about interpretation and connotations and trying to achive clarity. I'm wondering, though, whether part of the problem of epistemology, and all philosophy I guess, is that statements of supposed truth/knowledge are always flawed because language is vague and inexact as a communicator. Language is only a mediator between my mind and yours, and something is lost in the translation first from the concept in my mind to the words I use, and then from my words to the resulting concept in your mind.
I'm wondering if perhaps concepts can be correct, but when they are translated into language they can be analysed into oblivion because language is superficial and has no essence, or at least no direct connection with reality.
I have not quite finished this thought, but thought I'd get it out there anyway in case anyone happens to notice it and has any comments.
Hm, though I wonder if it's really possible for me to have concepts in my mind that are free from language, given that all my education has taken place in the sphere of language?
I suspect I may be talking c#@p, in the great philosohpical tradition of so doing.
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