Possible Worlds

I am looking at this haunting picture that I keep coming back to on this thoughtdock (and that Olive discussed earlier). I tried about four times to post something, but it never takes. It just says “Comment Cannot Be Blank.” This is a little interesting, since it suggests I am not here making the comment, or the comment will not be perceived as a comment if it doesn’t say the correct thing, but maybe the thoughtddoc software is not that intelligent or controlling.

HOWEVER, what about Locke, Hume, Berkeley and Kant and these doors. (Remember, I wrote this a long time ago.) What is the relation of seeing these doors in the photo, seeing doors in my life, and recognizing doorness? Locke would want to distinquish between the primary and secondary properties of these doors? Kant would say that I can’t know the door, only read doorness in based on my sensorial intuitions and conceptual categorization? Hume would say I see doors and this photo and that sensorial info makes me have the idea of three doors, and possibly the metaphor of three doors, and further the idea that someone may walk out of one of them (because of experience in the observation and use of doors, and constant conjuction)? Berkeley would say that the doors don’t exist without me seeing them?

What I wanted to say in my comment is that this photo reminds me of Dennett’s where am I: which door leads to me. One might represent the body, the flesh and fluids, hair color, specifics. One might be the connections in the brain, the mind/ cpu. One might be “me-ness” as a child of an immortal soul or set of genetic material that is reproducing and participating in the chain of being regardless of my personality.

For ethics, which is the one I am in when deciding something’s right or wrong? It seems like if you take this question, the answer of where am I becomes either door 2 or door 3, not 1.

One final thing: these doors are faked. If you look, it is a totally fake image with shadows going the wrong way. So what does that make the thought I had of doorness or the “me” that was imagined in association with each door? Or what does it make of the narrative that I envisioned – people exiting a door and a story beginning?

HiLo

Problems with Moral Objectivism

Theo offers the following reflections on moral objectivism:

Certainly, moral objectivism avoids some of the major shortcomings of the two opposing views: subjectivism and cultural relativism. In particular, these latter views essentially do not allow for meaningful criticism of another’s moral beliefs, given that any such belief is simply recognized as a matter of opinion; and objectivism inherently accounts for this issue by proposing that questions of morality can be resolved by appeal to reason on an absolute scale. However, when applied to reality, the objective conception of morality does not seem to capture the nuances of worldly moral issues.

When presented with the choices of burgling others’ properties and sharing one’s possessions with those in need, it seems highly probable that the vast majority of individuals, regardless of cultural boundaries, would identify the second as the morally just course of action. This may be attributed to either natural human intuition or education in society. However, when presented with two more controversial options, in which application of the most universal moral values does not produce a clear answer, opinions can expectably be rather evenly divided. Should two rational individuals representing opposing positions attempt to defend their position with appeals to logic, it would not be unsurprising if they departed utterly unmoved by the opponent’s argument, convinced in the moral superiority of their own position. Each position has its benefits and drawbacks, and the importance one attributes to these ultimately determines one’s evaluation of the overall moral strength of the position. And, this phenomenon of attributing varying importance to different features of a moral position is highly subjective. 

For example, one may seek to harm an enemy in response to an evil that this enemy committed. One moral “truth” is that we should not harm another in almost any circumstances. Another such “truth” may be that justice should be attribute appropriate consequences to one’s actions. The moral position described in the example thus violates one moral truth while upholding another, and so, in judging the moral integrity of the position, one must call upon one’s own, subjective views regarding the degree of importance of these facets of the position. The controversial topics of abortion, assisted suicide, and others, constitute other examples of moral questions that are very much dividing: one’s perspective on these matters depends predominantly on the relative importance one attributes to different moral “truths”.  One can reasonably recognize that no absolute hierarchy exists that resolves this uncertainty and to which rational beings would commonly agree. 

While an “objective” analysis of a seemingly straightforward scenario, such as the question of stealing or sharing, yields a clear answer by virtue of the effectively universal consensus on the topic, more divisive questions are answered by one’s personal, or cultural, inclinations, and not by a global system that could possibly attempt to resolve such issues. A comparison can be made between morality and beauty – while almost everyone would agree that a luxurious mansion is more beautiful than a run-down shack, based on values that almost everyone shares, it becomes significantly less clear when comparing two houses of “similar” stature. In order to choose the more beautiful between the two, one must draw upon one’s own opinions and priorities – and thus beauty, like morality, cannot be considered entirely objective.

Some Ponderings on Morality

Does Morality Come from Religion?

It is a commonly held preconception that having, or practicing a certain (as those who hold this conception tend to attribute it to one specific form) religion or belief system is the foundation for the makings of a good person. Although this is not a thesis that can be wholly and conclusively disproved, due to the fact that it deals with issues of belief, rather than knowing, I believe that it can be shown that this conception is highly improbable and, in fact, this very preconception has led to 'immoral' acts in the past. For one, if, say, one religion holds an immutable belief that sexual relations are immoral and will cause one to face severe consequences of some sort, while another religion holds an equally strong belief that sexual relations, in the correct context, are holy and are an intrinsic part of worship for them—then there seems to be a direct conflict between the two beliefs. If these two hypothetical belief systems—let's assume that they are equally prevalent and equally strongly believed by similar population segments—are taken as being true, and it seems that we cannot deny that they are at least true to their believers, then either one belief system is true and the other is not, neither are true, or the preconception that practicing a certain belief system gives one morality is untrue. These seem, at least at initial thought, to be the only possibilities.

The first option seems improbable. While believers of one system may be very attached to their own belief system, their reasoning behind their beliefs seems to come from within that system itself, thus rendering it invalid. Keeping this in mind, it makes sense that very different and even opposing beliefs can be justified in such similar manners. Since the reasoning for religious belief systems almost always comes from within the belief system, the arguments for why a certain act or belief is right or wrong can follow a very similar format and come to very different conclusions by simply pulling whatever evidence is needed into the argument from within the lore of the belief system. Taking this into account, it appears to the unbiased observer that choosing a 'right' belief system is quite arbitrary and thus it's not very likely that the solution to the above mentioned conflict lies in one or the other belief system being truly 'right.'

The second option, that neither are true, implies that no one organized belief system is true. This would seem to imply that there is no morality, since morality, when traced, seems to come from organized belief systems. For example, if an individual was asked, “Why do you believe that you are a good person?” it would not seem unusual for them to reply that they go to church every Sunday, they are loyal to their family, or that they give money to the poor. However, it would be hard to argue with a reply that stated that a person was good because he spent his Sundays working to help others, that abstains from having a family because he is aware of his incapability personally to support one, and who prefers not to give money to the poor because he believes that it demeans them. It seems that each of these individuals has an organized belief system that guides their actions and allows them to believe that they are 'good' human beings. They both seem to be right, at least in the sense that following their personal belief systems does lead them to qualify as 'good' people based on their belief systems. However, their belief systems are contradictory although they both seem to appeal to some sense of 'morality.' It doesn't seem fair to condemn them both to being untrue and it seems that the flaw may come from the belief that morality does come from organized belief systems. This leaves the third possibility—that the preconception that morality comes from certain belief systems is untrue. This would mean that all the beliefs detailed thus far could simultaneously exist and be a part of morality without contradiction. They would not necessarily all be 'good'--the decision of what is good is a separate discussion and brings many more complexities to the table—but they could each be evaluated separately and could compose multiple personal morality's without contradiction.

The Trouble with Relativism (with a historical aside about believing contradictions) - Anonymous

In thinking about what Nagel was trying to communicate with regard to subjectivism, he raises a familiar issue.  It is often the case that subjectivists, no matter the subject, will dogmatically say that there is no objective way the world is.  Yet, in defending the view of subjectivism, they take a very objective stance.  This seems similar to the problem relativists have in their commitment to the idea that there is no true or false, no right or wrong.  Obviously, the statement that "everything is relative" is itself proclaiming an unrelativistic "truth."  This is why Nagel is trying to drive home the point that people who hold radically subjectivist views do not really understand what they are doing -- because holding those views is a kind of acknowledgement of the objective way the world is.  Again, similarly, holding views of relativism, which are assertions of truth, is completely contradictory to the spirit of relativism.  It seems to me, then, impossible to make any claims or assertions at all about the world being either subjective or relative. And perhaps if it is sort of logically impossible to assert a certain point of view, that might help guide us in considering the strength of that view.  By "logically impossible" I mean the kind of fallacy like "p and not p."  The conclusion "p and not p" can never be true.  (By the way, I just googled whether the words "logical impossibility" can ever be used together and I see that this idea is actually controversial.  Apparently, David Hume held that the impossible simply cannot be believed or conceived, but Moritz Schlick claimed that "while the merely practically impossible is still conceivable, the logically impossible, such as an explicit inconsistency, is simply unthinkable."  Moreover "an opposite philosophical tradition, however, maintains that inconsistencies and logical impossibilities are thinkable, and sometimes believable too."  Apparently, Hegel holds this view.  Interesting.)

Scepticus and Olive

Scepticus: I have a question for you, Olive. Are the only things about which we can have certain knowledge are the contents of one’s own mind? Is it possible to have knowledge of the external world?

Olive: Interesting. I will approach this question with another question – is there anything that we can be 100% sure that exists only in our mind and does not exist in the external world?

Scepticus: You tell me.

Olive: My initial reaction is to say no. It seems to me that everything we think about, even our dreams, is connected to the external world. What if I think about a dog? I know of dogs through my experience of them – seeing them, touching them, smelling them, etc. This is obvious.

What if I make up something? Imagine an object that I will call… a needge. It is green, solid, and travels through walls when I push it with two fingers. Even though this needge is completely fictional, it stems from my experience of the world. My experience of green, walls, movement, fingers… Now I have never experienced a solid object pass through a wall. Is this idea in my mind and not in the external world?

Scepticus: Why, yes it is!

Olive: But if I had no knowledge of walls, movement, what it means for an object to pass through another, etc, would I be able to conceive of an object passing through a wall?

Scepticus: Well, perhaps not. But does the needge’s origin is in the external world matter? Can’t we just say that the needge’s ability to pass through walls is in your mind and leave it at that?

Olive: Think about it this way – imagine that you never had any sensation. From the moment of conception, you were completely deprived of any sensory input. Could you conceive a needge? Could you even think at all?

Scepticus: pauses. No, you couldn’t conceive of a needge. But this doesn’t mean that you wouldn’t think. I just don’t know what you would think of…

Olive: Sensation is the conduit for thinking, Scepticus! No matter how much you explain to a child who is blind, and has been so for her whole life, about the redness of an apple, she will not understand it! She cannot even imagine it.

Scepticus: A blind child, sure, but what about a man who lost his hand in an accident? I read that people who lose limbs experience phantom sensations. Obviously, there is no object-prompted sensation. So phantom sensation must exist in the mind!

Olive: True, these sensations do exist in the mind, but again I ask of the poor person deprived of any sense experience. Would he have phantom sensations?

Indulge me for a moment, while I approach the issue of knowing the external world from a different angle. What if, when you sense something, you are not necessarily sensing the “object”, but rather your experience is that of your senses. You do not experience anything other than your senses. Therefore, everything you experience is contained within your mind.

Scepticus: What about the object that prompts sensation?

Olive: I liken this to a pool of water. Suppose that you are standing in a shallow pool. A few feet from where you stand, a pebble falls into the water. This creates ripples, which after a moment splash against your legs. You experience the rock through the ripple’s effect. This is like sensation. The object that you sense through the ripple is the rock. Your experience of the rock is the ripple. Therefore, your knowledge that the rock has fallen into the pool is indirect.

Scepticus: You are saying that we cannot have knowledge of the external world?

Olive: We rely on the external world for experience. We can have knowledge of the external world, but it is always within the context of our own bodies and minds. Essentially, I am creating a distinction between sensation and the object. In common speech, when I say “This snow feels cold” we interpret that to mean “The snow is cold.” What I’m saying in reply to “This snow feels cold” is “My experience of my sensation is cold.”

Is it possible to have a ripple without a pebble? I think that this question is closely related to your question about phantom sensations. A phantom sensation would be a ripple without a pebble. But in real life I think that it is more nuanced that this. The only way you can have a phantom sensation is because you used to have a limb.

So, do we have knowledge of the external world? I am answering with both yes and no. Yes, because without the external world I doubt we could think at all. No, because our knowledge is indirect. We only know the "contents" of our body.

The Hen/Egg Debate and Admirers of Theories

"It is easy to obtain confirmations, or verifications, for nearly every theory-if we look for confirmations." This is Popper's first conclusion in section I. I could not agree more that if one is looking for a confirmation, then it won't be difficult to find one. I think that if one "admires" a theory or hypothesis, he will perceive everything in light of that theory and will be searching to verify the theory. One begins to form his observations based on the theory, and not the contrary. This reminds me of the images of the dog and of Jesus that we looked at in class. Once we saw the intended images, we could not avoid our eyes drifting to the them. I think that admirers of a theory experience a similar phenomenon: once they believe something to be true, they will always be able to find verification and will always be zoned in on the theory. Thus, I agree with Popper that "science must begin with myths" (26). I think that science begins with a myth, then one forms a hypothesis or theory, and then observations follow. It seems to me that the "earlier kind of observations" are encompassed by the myth. And in the scientific approach, one will actually look to refute his theory with the "later kind of observations," although the admirer will be racking up support and looking for confirmation of the theory.

Of Grue Emerapphires, Bleen Sappheralds and Other Oddities

Ok, folks, here's your space to discuss Goodman's New Riddle of Induction.

Very briefly, the problem Goodman identifies is that any set of observations can justify any prediction about the future whatsoever, in which case, no set of observations really justifies any prediction at all.

The argument runs as follows. For any predicate, P, for which you have observed n positive instances--and hence expect P to be true of the n+1th instance--it is relatively straightforward to construct another predicate, P*, such that the n observed positive instances of P are also positive instances of P*. In which case, one can equally well expect P* to be true of the n+1th instance. However, P* is defined such that the n-1th instance cannot be both P and P*. Furthermore, we can repeat the reasoning, coming up with predicates P**, P***, etc., so that the n+1th instance will have any property at all. So, the n instances provide no more reason to expect the n+1th instance will be P than it does to expect P*, P**, P***, etc. In which case the n instances provide no reason to expect anything in particular.

That's the general formulation of the argument. It is easier to follow using the (now classic) example of the predicate "grue". An object is grue, recall, just in case it is either observed by some date t and green or unobserved by t and blue. Now, all emeralds observed by this date (whenever you're reading this) have been green, and using induction in the familiar way, we expect then next observed emerald to be green. But, having just defined "grue", it is clear that every observed emerald has also been grue. So, using induction in the familiar way, we should expect the next observed emerald to be grue. But, if we treat the time at which you--gentle reader--read this as t, then if the emerald is grue, it will be blue, not green. So the emeralds we have observed to this point provide no more reason to expect the next observed emerald to be green than grue--hence, blue. Furthermore, we can define predicates "gred", "grorange, "grellow", "grurple", etc. such that, by parity of reasoning, we have just as much reason to expect the next observed emerald to be red, orange, yellow, purple and so on. It follows that we really don't have any reason to expect the next observed emerald to be any particular color.

But of course this is absurd. Emeralds we have observed to this date do give us reason to expect the next to be green, and they give us much more reason to expect this than to expect the next emerald to be blue, red, orange, etc. (Nor do they provide reason to expect the next observed sapphire to be green, or blue, etc.--but this is a further development of Goodman's argument.) That is why Goodman's New Riddle is a paradox: an unacceptable conclusion reached from apparently acceptable premises via apparently acceptable reasoning.

The challenge is to come up with an explanation of why past observations of emeralds justify our expectation that the next will be green, rather than blue (etc.). That, it turns out, is surprisingly difficult to do.