BY: RICHARD J.KOSCIEJEW
Looking back a century, one can see a discovering degree of homogeneity among the philosophers of the early twentieth century about the topics central to their concerns. More striking still, is the apparent obscurity and abstruseness of these concerns, which seem at first glance to be separated from the great debates of previous centuries, between ‘realism’ and ‘idealist’, or, say, of ‘rationalists’ and ‘empiricist’.
Thus, no matter what the current debate in dialogue, or discussion, the dialectic awareness hosts the rhetorical issues from which are often without conceptual and contentual representations, that if one is without concept, one is without idea, such that in one foul swoop would ingest the mere truth that lies the myriad of underlying paradoxes but why is there something instead of nothing. In whatever it is that makes for what would otherwise be mere utterances and inscriptions into instruments of communication and understanding, that if by reason alone. This philosophical problem is to demystify the over flowing emptiness, and to relate to what we know of ourselves as the subjective matter’s in the resembling reality that posits reason for our inherent perception of the world and its surrounding exteriorities and, of course, are those of the internal surfaces latent of our desires of all actions.
Contributions to this study include the theory of ‘speech arts’, and the investigation of communicable communications, especially the relationship between ‘words’ and ‘ideas’, and words and the ‘world’. It is, nonetheless, that which and utterance or sentence expresses, the proposition or claim made about the world. By extension, the content of a predicate that any expression effectively connecting with one or more singular terms to make a sentence, the expressed condition that the entities referred to may satisfy, in which case the resulting sentence will be true. Consequently we may think of a predicate as a function from things to sentences or even to truth-values, or other sub-sentential components that contribute to sentences that contain it. The nature of content is the central concern of the philosophy of language.
All and all, assuming their rationality has characterized people is common, and the most evident display of our rationality is capable to think. This is the rehearsal in the mind of what to say, or what to do. Not all thinking is verbal, since chess players, composers, and painters all think, and there is no deductive reason that their deliberations should take any more verbal a form than their actions. It is permanently tempting to conceive of this activity about the presence in the mind of elements of some language, or other medium that represents aspects of the world and its surrounding surface structures. However, the model has been attacked, notably by Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951), whose influential application of these ideas was in the philosophy of mind. Wittgenstein explores the role that reports of introspection, or sensations, or intentions, or beliefs can play of our social lives, to undermine the Cartesian mental picture is that they functionally describe the goings-on in an inner theatre of which the subject is the lone spectator. Passages that have subsequentially become known as the ‘rule following’ considerations and the ‘private language argument’ are among the fundamental topics of modern philosophy of language and mind, although their precise interpretation is endlessly controversial.
Effectively, the hypotheses especially associated with Jerry Fodor (1935-), whom is known for the ‘resolute realism’, about the nature of mental functioning, that occurs in a language different from one’s ordinary native language, but underlying and explaining our competence with it. The idea is a development of the notion of an innate universal grammar (Avram Noam Chomsky, 1928-), in as such, that we agree that since a computer programs are linguistically complex sets of instructions were the relative executions by which explains of surface behaviour or the adequacy of the computerized programming installations, if it were definably amendable and, advisably corrective, in that most are disconcerting of many that are ultimately a reason for ‘us’ of thinking intuitively and without the indulgence of retrospective preferences, but an ethical majority in defending of its moral line that is already confronting ‘us’. That these programs may or may not improve to conditions that are lastly to enhance of the right sort of an existence forwarded toward a more valuing amount in humanities lesser extensions that embrace one’s riff of necessity to human’ abeyance to expressions in the finer of qualities.
As an explanation of ordinary language-learning and competence, the hypothesis has not found universal favour, as only ordinary representational powers that by invoking the image of the learning person’s capabilities are apparently whom the abilities for translating are contending of an innate language whose own powers are mysteriously a biological given. Perhaps, the view that everyday attributions of intentionality, beliefs, and meaning to other persons proceed by means of a tactic use of a theory that enables one to construct these interpretations as explanations of their doings. We commonly hold the view along with ‘functionalism’, according to which psychological states are theoretical entities, identified by the network of their causes and effects. The theory-theory has different implications, depending upon which feature of theories we are stressing. Theories may be thought of as capable of formalization, as yielding predictions and explanations, as achieved by a process of theorizing, as answering to empirical evidence that is in principle describable without them, as liable to be overturned by newer and better theories, and so on.
The main problem with seeing our understanding of others as the outcome of a piece of theorizing is the nonexistence of a medium in which this theory can be couched, as the child learns simultaneously the minds of others and the meaning of terms in its native language, is not gained by the tactic use of a ‘theory’, enabling ‘us’ to infer what thoughts or intentions explain their actions, but by reliving the situation ‘in their shoes’ or from their point of view, and by that understanding what they experienced and theory, and therefore expressed. Understanding others is achieved when we can ourselves deliberate as they did, and hear their words as if they are our own. The suggestion is a modern development frequently associated in the ‘Verstehen’ traditions of Dilthey (1833-1911), Weber (1864-1920) and Collingwood (1889-1943).
We may call any process of drawing a conclusion from a set of premises a process of reasoning. If the conclusion concerns what to do, the process is called practical reasoning, otherwise pure or theoretical reasoning. Evidently, such processes may be good or bad, if they are good, the premises support or even entail the conclusion drawn, and if they are bad, the premises offer no support to the conclusion. Formal logic studies the cases in which conclusions are validly drawn from premises, but little human reasoning is overly of the forms logicians identify. Partly, we are concerned to draw conclusions that ‘go beyond’ our premises, in the way that conclusions of logically valid arguments do not for the process of using evidence to reach a wider conclusion. Nonetheless, such anticipatory pessimism in the opposite direction to the prospects of conformation theory, denying that we can assess the results of abduction in terms of probability. A cognitive process of reasoning in which a conclusion is played-out from a set of premises usually confined of cases in which the conclusions are supposed in following from the premises, i.e., an inference is logically valid, in that of deductibility in a logically defined syntactic premise but without there being to any reference to the intended interpretation of its theory. Furthermore, as we reason we use indefinite traditional knowledge or commonsense sets of presuppositions about what it is likely or not a task of an automated reasoning project, which is to mimic this causal use of knowledge of the way of the world in computer programs.
Some ‘theories’ usually emerge themselves of engaging to exceptionally explicit predominancy as [supposed] truths that they have not organized, making the theory difficult to survey or study as a whole. The axiomatic method is an idea for organizing a theory, one in which tries to select from among the supposed truths a small number from which they can see all others to be deductively inferrable. This makes the theory more tractable since, in a sense, they contain all truths in those few. In a theory so organized, they call the few truths from which they deductively imply all others ‘axioms’. David Hilbert (1862-1943) had argued that, just as algebraic and differential equations, which we were used to study mathematical and physical processes, could have themselves be made mathematical objects, so axiomatic theories, like algebraic and differential equations, which are means to representing physical processes and mathematical structures could be of investigating.
Conformation to theory, the philosophy of science, is a generalization or set referring to unobservable entities, i.e., atoms, genes, quarks, unconscious wishes. The ideal gas laws, as an example, characterized by reasoning from evidence or from its premises too such characteristic or specific observable pressure, temperature, and volume, the ‘molecular-kinetic theory’ refers to molecules and their material possession, . . . although an older usage suggests the lack of adequate evidence in support thereof, as an existing philosophical usage does in truth, follow in the tradition (as in Leibniz, 1704), as many philosophers had the conviction that all truths, or all truths about a particular domain, followed from as few than for being many governing principles. These principles were taken to be either metaphysically prior or epistemological prior or both. In the first sense, they we took to be entities of such a nature that what exists s ‘caused’ by them. When the principles were taken as epistemological prior, that is, as ‘axioms’, they were taken to be either epistemologically privileged, e.g., self-evident, not needing to be demonstrated, or again, inferrable ‘or’, to such that all truths so truly follow from them by deductive inferences. The mathematician Kurt Gödel (1906-78) explicates a first incompleteness theorem states that for any consistent logical system ‘S’ able to express arithmetic there must exist sentences that are true in the standard interpretation of ‘S’, but not provable. Showed in the spirit of Hilbert, treating axiomatic theories as themselves mathematical objects that mathematics, and even a small part of mathematics, elementary number theory, could not be axiomatized, that more precisely, any class of axioms that is such that we could effectively decide, of any proposition, whether or not it was in that class, would be too small to capture in of the truths. Moreover. If ‘S’ is omega-consistent then there exist sentences such that neither they nor their negations are provable. The second theorem states that no such system can be powerful enough to prove its own consistency.
The notion of truth occurs with remarkable frequency in our reflections on language, thought and action. We are inclined to suppose, for example, that truth is the proper aim of scientific inquiry, that true beliefs help to achieve our goals, that to understand a sentence is to know which circumstances would make it true, that reliable preservation of truth as one argues of valid reasoning, that moral pronouncements should not be regarded as objectively true, and so on. To assess the plausibility of such theses, and to refine them and to explain why they hold (if they do), we require some view of what truth be a theory that would account for its properties and its relations to other matters. Thus, there can be little prospect of understanding our most important faculties in the sentence of a good theory of truth.
Such a thing, however, has been notoriously elusive. The ancient idea that truth is some sort of ‘correspondence with reality’ has still never been articulated satisfactorily, and the nature of the alleged ‘correspondence’ and the alleged ‘reality’ persistently remains objectionably enigmatical. Yet the familiar alternative suggestions that true beliefs are those that are ‘mutually coherent’, or ‘pragmatically useful’, or ‘verifiable in suitable conditions’ has each been confronted with persuasive counterexamples. A twentieth-century departure from these traditional analyses is the view that truth is not a property at all that the syntactic form of the predicate, ‘is true’, distorts its really semantic character, which is not to describe propositions but to endorse them. Nevertheless, we have also faced this radical approach with difficulties and suggest, counter intuitively that truth cannot have the vital theoretical role in semantics, epistemology and elsewhere that we are naturally inclined to give it. Thus, truth threatens to remain one of the most enigmatic of notions: An explicit account of it can seem essential yet beyond our reach. All the same, recent work provides some evidence for optimism.
A theory is based in philosophy of science, is a generalization or se of generalizations purportedly referring to observable entities, its theory refers top molecules and their properties, although an older usage suggests the lack of an adequate make-out in support therefrom as merely a theory, later-day philosophical usage does not carry that connotation. Einstein’s special and General Theory of Relativity, for example, is taken to be extremely well founded.
These are two main views on the nature of theories. According to the ‘received view’ theories are partially interpreted axiomatic systems, according to the semantic view, a theory is a collection of models (Suppe, 1974). By which, some possibilities, unremarkably emerge as supposed truths that no one has neatly systematized by making theory difficult to make a survey of or study as a whole. The axiomatic method is an ideal for organizing a theory (Hilbert, 1970), one tries to select from among the supposed truths a small number from which they can see all the others to be deductively inferrable. This makes the theory more tractable since, in a sense, they contain all truth’s in those few. In a theory so organized, they call the few truths from which they deductively incriminate all others ‘axioms’. David Hilbert (1862-1943) had argued that, morally justified as algebraic and differential equations, which were antiquated into the study of mathematical and physical processes, could hold on to themselves and be made mathematical objects, so they could make axiomatic theories, like algebraic and differential equations, which are means of representing physical processes and mathematical structures, objects of mathematical investigation.
Of mathematics, elementary number theory, could not be axiomatized, that, more precisely, any class of axioms that is such that we could effectively decide, of any proposition, whether or not it was in that class, would be too small to capture all of the truths.
The notion of truth occurs with remarkable frequency in our reflections on language, thought, and action. We are inclined to suppose, for example, that truth is the proper aim of scientific inquiry, that true beliefs help ‘us’ to achieve our goals, that to understand a sentence is to know which circumstances would make it true, that reliable preservation of truth as one argues from premises to a conclusion is the mark of valid reasoning, that moral pronouncements should not be regarded as objectively true, and so on. In order to assess the plausible of such theses, and in order to refine them and to explain why they hold, if they do, we expect some view of what truth be of a theory that would keep an account of its properties and its relations to other matters. Thus, there can be little prospect of understanding our most important faculties without a good theory of truth.
Astounded by such a thing, however, has been notoriously elusive. The ancient idea that truth is one sort of ‘correspondence with reality’ has still never been articulated satisfactorily: The nature of the alleged ‘correspondence’ and te alleged ‘reality remains objectively obscure. Yet, the familiar alternative suggests ~. That true beliefs are those that are ‘mutually coherent’, or ‘pragmatically useful’, or ‘verifiable’ in suitable conditions has each been confronted with persuasive counterexamples. A twentieth-century departure from these traditional analyses is the view that truth is not a property at al ~. That the syntactic form of the predicate,‘. . . is true’, distorts the ‘real’ semantic character, with which is not to describe propositions but to endorse them. Still, this radical approach is also faced with difficulties and suggests, counter intuitively that truth cannot have the vital theoretical role in semantics, epistemology and elsewhere that we are naturally inclined to give it. Thus, truth threatens to remain one of the most enigmatic of notions, and a confirming account of it can seem essential yet, on the far side of our reach. However, recent work provides some grounds for optimism.
The belief that snow is white owes its truth to a certain feature of the external world, namely, to the fact that snow is white. Similarly, the belief that dogs bark is true because of the fact that dogs bark. This trivial observation leads to what is perhaps the most natural and popular account of truth, the ‘correspondence theory’, according to which a belief (statement, a sentence, propositions, etc. (as true just in case there exists a fact corresponding to it (Wittgenstein, 1922). This thesis is unexceptionable, all the same, it is to provide a rigorous, substantial and complete theory of truth, If it is to be more than merely a picturesque way of asserting all equivalences to the form. The belief that ‘p’ is true ‘p’.Then it must be supplemented with accounts of what facts are, and what it is for a belief to correspond to a fact, and these are the problems on which the correspondence theory of truth has floundered. For one thing, it is far from going unchallenged that any significant gain in understanding is achieved by reducing ‘the belief that snow is white is’ true’ to the facts that snow is white exists: For these expressions look equally resistant to analysis and too close in meaning for one to provide a crystallizing account of the other. In addition, the undistributed relationship that holds in particular between the belief that snow is white and the fact that snow is white, between the belief that dogs bark and the fact that a ‘dog barks’, and so on, is very hard to identify. The best attempt to date is Wittgenstein’s 1922, so-called ‘picture theory’, by which an elementary proposition is a configuration of terms, with whatever stare of affairs it reported, as an atomic fact is a configuration of simple objects, an atomic fact corresponds to an elementary proposition and makes it true, when their configurations are identical and when the terms in the proposition for it to the similarly-placed objects in the fact, and the truth value of each complex proposition the truth values entail of the elementary ones. However, eve if this account is correct as far as it goes, it would need to be completed with plausible theories of ‘logical configuration’, ‘rudimentary proposition’, ‘reference’ and ‘entailment’, none of which are better-off for what is to come.
The cental characteristic of truth One that any adequate theory must explain is that when a proposition satisfies its ‘conditions of proof or verification’ then it is regarded as true. To the extent that the property of corresponding with reality is mysterious, we are going to find it impossible to see what we take to verify a proposition should show the possession of that property. Therefore, a tempting alternative to the correspondence theory an alternative that eschews obscure, metaphysical concept that explains quite straightforwardly why verifiability infers, truth is simply to identify truth with verifiability (Peirce, 1932). This idea can take on variously formed. One version involves the further assumption that verification is ‘holistic’, . . . ‘in that a belief is justified (i.e., verified) when it is part of an entire system of beliefs that are consistent and ‘counterbalance’ (Bradley, 1914 and Hempel, 1935). This is known as the ‘coherence theory of truth’. Another version involves the assumption associated with each proposition, some specific procedure for finding out whether one should amazingly. On this account, to say that a proposition is true is to sa that the appropriate procedure would verify (Dummett, 1979. and Putnam, 1981). While mathematics this amounts to the identification of truth with provability.
The attractions of the verificationist account of truth are that it is refreshingly clear compared with the correspondence theory, and that it succeeds in connecting truth with verification. The trouble is that the bond it postulates between these notions is implausibly strong. We do in true statements’ take verification to indicate truth, but also we recognize the possibility that a proposition may be false in spite of there being impeccable reasons to believe it, and that a proposition may be true although we are not able to discover that it is. Verifiability and ruth are no doubt highly correlated, but surely not the same thing.
A third well-known account of truth is known as ‘pragmatism’ (James, 1909 and Papineau, 1987). As we have just seen, the verificationist selects a prominent property of truth and considers the essence of truth. Similarly, the pragmatist focuses on another important characteristic namely, that true belief is a good basis for action and takes this to be the very nature of truth. True assumpsits are said to be, by definition, those that provoke actions with desirable results. Again, we have an account statement with a single attractive explanatory characteristic, besides, it postulates between truth and its alleged analysand in this case, utility is implausibly close. Granted, true belief tends to foster success, but it happens regularly that actions based on true beliefs lead to disaster, while false assumptions, by pure chance, produce wonderful results.
One of the few uncontroversial facts about truth is that the proposition that snow is white if and only if snow is white, the proposition that lying is wrong is true if and only if lying is wrong, and so on. Traditional theories acknowledge this fact but regard it as insufficient and, as we have seen, inflate it with some further principle of the form, ‘x’ is true if and only if ‘x’ has property ‘P’ (such as corresponding to reality, Verifiability, or being suitable as a basis for action), which is supposed to specify what truth is. Some radical alternatives to the traditional theories result from denying the need for any such further specification (Ramsey, 1927, Strawson, 1950 and Quine, 1990). For example, ne might suppose that the basic theory of truth contains nothing more that equivalences of the form, ‘The proposition that ‘p’ is true if and only if ‘p’ (Horwich, 1990).
That is, a proposition, ‘K’ with the following properties, that from ‘K’ and any further premises of the form. ‘Einstein’s claim was the proposition that p’ you can imply p’. Whatever it is, now supposes, as the deflationist says, that our understanding of the truth predicate consists in the stimulative decision to accept any instance of the schema. ‘The proposition that ‘p’ is true if and only if ‘p’, then your problem is solved. For ‘K’ is the proposition, ‘Einstein’s claim is true ’, it will have precisely the inferential power needed. From it and ‘Einstein’s claim is the proposition that quantum mechanics are wrong’, you can use Leibniz’s law to imply ‘The proposition that quantum mechanic is wrong is true; Which given the relevant axiom of the deflationary theory, allows you to derive ‘Quantum mechanics is wrong’. Thus, one point in favour of the deflationary theory is that it squares with a plausible story about the function of our notion of truth, in that its axioms explain that function without the need for further analysis of ‘what truth is’.
Support for deflationism depends upon the possibleness of showing that its axiom instances of the equivalence schema, unsupplemental of any further analysis, will suffice to explain all the central facts about truth, for example, that the verification of a proposition indicates its truth, and that true beliefs have a practical value. The first of these facts follows trivially from the deflationary axioms, for given ours a prior knowledge of the equivalence of ‘p’ and ‘The proposition that ‘p’ is true, any reason to believe that ‘p’ becomes an equally good reason to believe that the preposition that ‘p’ is true. We can also explain the second fact in terms of the deflationary axioms, but not quite so easily. Consider, to begin with, beliefs of the form:
(B) If I perform the act ‘A’, then my desires will be fulfilled.
Notice that the psychological role of such a belief is, roughly, to cause the performance of ‘A’. In other words, gave that I do have belief (B), then typically.
I will perform the act ‘A’
Notice also that when the belief is true then, given the deflationary axioms, the performance of ‘A’ will in fact lead to the fulfilment of one’s desires, i.e.,
If (B) is true, then if I perform ‘A’, my desires will be fulfilled
Therefore,
If (B) is true, then my desires will be fulfilled.
So valuing the truth of beliefs of that form is quite treasonable. Nevertheless, inference has derived such beliefs from other beliefs and can be expected to be true if those other beliefs are true. So assigning a value to the truth of any belief that might be used in such an inference is reasonable.
To the extent that such deflationary accounts can be given of all the acts involving truth, then the explanatory demands on a theory of truth will be met by the collection of all statements like, ‘The proposition that snow is white is true if and only if snow is white’, and the sense that some deep analysis of truth is needed will be undermined.
Nonetheless, there are several strongly felt objections to deflationism. One reason for dissatisfaction is that the theory has an infinite number of axioms, and therefore cannot be completely written down. It can be described, as the theory whose axioms are the propositions of the fore ‘p if and only if it is true that p’, but not explicitly formulated. This alleged defect has led some philosophers to develop theories that show, first, how the truth of any proposition derives from the referential properties of its constituents, and second, how the referential properties of primitive constituents are determinated (Tarski, 1943 and Davidson, 1969). However, assuming that all propositions including belief attributions remain controversial, law of nature and counterfactual conditionals depends for their truth values on what their constituents refer to implicate. In addition, there is no immediate prospect of a presentable, finite possibility of reference, so that it is far form clear that the infinite, list-like character of deflationism can be avoided.
Additionally, it is commonly supposed that problems about the nature of truth are intimately bound up with questions as to the accessibility and autonomy of facts in various domains: Questions about whether the facts can be known, and whether they can exist independently of our capacity to discover them (Dummett, 1978, and Putnam, 1981). One might reason, for example, that if ‘T is true ‘means’ nothing more than ‘T will be verified’, then certain forms of scepticism, specifically, those that doubt the correctness of our methods of verification, that will be precluded, and that the facts will have been revealed as dependent on human practices. Alternatively, it might be said that if truth were an inexplicable, primitive, non-epistemic property, then the fact that ‘T’ is true would be completely independent of ‘us’. Moreover, we could, in that case, have no reason to assume that the propositions we believe in, that in adopting its property, so scepticism would be unavoidable. In a similar vein, it might be thought that as special, and perhaps undesirable features of the deflationary approach, is that truth is deprived of such metaphysical or epistemological implications.
On closer scrutiny, however, it is far from clear that there exists ‘any’ account of truth with consequences regarding the accessibility or autonomy of non-semantic matters. For although an account of truth may be expected to have such implications for facts of the form ‘T is true’, it cannot be assumed without further argument that the same conclusions will apply to the fact ’T’. For it cannot be assumed that ‘T’ and ‘T’ are true’ and is equivalent to one another given the account of ‘true’ that is being employed. Of course, if truth is defined in the way that the deflationist proposes, then the equivalence holds by definition. Nevertheless, if truth is defined by reference to some metaphysical or epistemological characteristic, then the equivalence schema is thrown into doubt, pending some demonstration that the trued predicate, in the sense assumed, will be satisfied in as far as there are thought to be epistemological problems hanging over ‘T’s’ that do not threaten ‘T is true’, giving the needed demonstration will be difficult. Similarly, if ‘truth’ is so defined that the fact, ‘T’ is felt to be more, or less, independent of human practices than the fact that ‘T is true’, then again, it is unclear that the equivalence schema will hold. It would seem. Therefore, that the attempt to base epistemological or metaphysical conclusions on a theory of truth must fail because in any such attempt the equivalence schema will be simultaneously relied on and undermined.
The most influential idea in the theory of meaning in the past hundred yeas is the thesis that meaning of an indicative sentence is given by its truth-conditions. On this conception, to understand a sentence is to know its truth-conditions. The conception was first clearly formulated by Frége (1848-1925), was developed in a distinctive way by the early Wittgenstein (1889-1951), and is a leading idea of Davidson (1917-). The conception has remained so central that those who offer opposing theories characteristically define their position by reference to it.
The conception of meaning as truth-conditions necessarily are not and should not be advanced as a complete account of meaning. For instance, one who understands a language must have some idea of the range of speech acts conventionally acted by the various types of a sentence in the language, and must have some idea of the significance of various kinds of speech acts. The claim of the theorist of truth-conditions should as an alternative is targeted on the notion of content: If two indicative sentences differ in what they strictly and literally say, then this difference is fully accounted for by the difference in their truth-conditions. Most basic to truth-conditions is simply of a statement that is the condition the world must meet if the statement is to be true. To know this condition is equivalent to knowing the meaning of the statement. Although this sounds as if it gives a solid anchorage for meaning, some of the security disappears when it turns out that the truth condition can only be defined by repeating the very same statement, as a truth condition of ‘snow is white’ is that snow is white, the truth condition of ‘Britain would have capitulated had Hitler invaded’ is the Britain would have capitulated had Hitler invaded. It is disputed wether. This element of running-on-the-spot disqualifies truth conditions from playing the central role in a substantive theory of meaning. Truth-conditional theories of meaning are sometimes opposed by the view that to know the meaning of a statement is to be able to use it in a network of inferences.
Whatever it is that makes, what would otherwise be mere sounds and inscriptions into instruments of communication and understanding. The philosophical problem is to demystify this power, and to relate it to what we know of ourselves and the world. Contributions to the study include the theory of ‘speech acts’ and the investigation of communication and the relationship between words and ideas and the world and surrounding surfaces, by which some persons express by a sentence are often a function of the environment in which he or she is placed. For example, the disease I refer to by a term like ‘arthritis’ or the kind of tree I refer to as an ‘oak’ will be defined by criteria of which I know nothing. The raises the possibility of imagining two persons in alternatively differently environmental, but in which everything appears the same to each of them, but between them they define a space of philosophical problems. They are the essential components of understanding nd any intelligible proposition that is true must be capable of being understood. Such that which is expressed by an utterance or sentence, the proposition or claim made about the world may by extension, the content of a predicated or other sub-sentential component is what it contributes to the content of sentences that contain it. The nature of content is the cental concern of the philosophy of language.
In particularly, the problems of indeterminancy of translation, inscrutability of reference, language, predication, reference, rule following, semantics, translation, and the topics referring to subordinate headings associated with ‘logic’. The loss of confidence in determinate meaning (‘Each is another encoding’) is an element common both to postmodern uncertainties in the theory of criticism, and to the analytic tradition that follows writers such as Quine (1908-). Still, it may be asked, why should we suppose that fundamental epistemic notions should be keep an account of for in behavioural terms what grounds are there for supposing that ‘p knows p’ is a subjective matter in the prestigiousness of its statement between some subject statement and physical theory of physically forwarded of an objection, between nature and its mirror? The answer is that the only alternative seems to be to take knowledge of inner states as premises from which our knowledge of other things is normally implied, and without which our knowledge of other things is normally inferred, and without which knowledge would be ungrounded. However, it is not really coherent, and does not in the last analysis make sense, to suggest that human knowledge have foundations or grounds. It should be remembered that to say that truth and knowledge ‘can only be judged by the standards of our own day’ is not to say that it is less meaningful nor is it ‘more “cut off from the world, which we had supposed. Conjecturing it is as just‘ that nothing counts as justification, unless by reference to what we already accept, and that at that place is no way to get outside our beliefs and our oral communication so as to find some experiment with others than coherence. The fact is that the professional philosophers have thought it might be otherwise, since one and only they are haunted by the marshy sump of epistemological scepticism.
What Quine opposes as ‘residual Platonism’ is not so much the hypostasising of nonphysical entities as the notion of ‘correspondence’ with things as the final court of appeal for evaluating present practices. Unfortunately, Quine, for all that it is incompatible with its basic insights, substitutes for this correspondence to physical entities, and specially to the basic entities, whatever they turn out to be, of physical science. Nevertheless, when their doctrines are purified, they converge on a single claim ~. That no account of knowledge can depend on the assumption of some privileged relations to reality. Their work brings out why an account of knowledge can amount only to a description of human behaviour.
One answer is that the belief has a coherent place or role in a system of beliefs, perception or the having the perceptivity that has its influence on beliefs. As, you respond to sensory stimuli by believing that you are reading a page in a book than believing that you have a centaur in the garden. Belief has an influence on action, or its belief is a desire to act, if belief will differentiate the differences between them, that its belief is a desire or if you were to believe that you are reading a page than if you believed in something about a centaur. Sortal perceptivals hold accountably the perceptivity and action that are indeterminate to its content if its belief is the action as if stimulated by its inner and latent coherence in that of your belief, however. The same stimuli may produce various beliefs and various beliefs may produce the same action. The role that gives the belief the content it has is the role it plays within a network of relations to other beliefs, some latently causal than others that relate to the role in inference and implication. For example, I infer different things from believing that I am reading a page in a book than from any other belief, justly as I infer about other beliefs.
The information of perceptibility and the output of an action supplement the central role of the systematic relations the belief has to other belief, but the systematic relations give the belief the specific contentual representation it has. They are the fundamental source of the content of belief. That is how coherence comes in. A belief has the representational content by which it does because of the way in which it coheres within a system of beliefs (Rosenberg, 1988). We might distinguish weak coherence theories of the content of beliefs from stronger coherence theories. Weak coherence theories affirm that coherence is one determinant of the representation given that the contents are of belief. Strong coherence theories of the content of belief affirm that coherence is the sole determinant of the contentual representations of belief.
These philosophical problems include discovering whether belief differs from other varieties of assent, such as ‘acceptance’ discovering to what extent degrees of belief is possible, understanding the ways in which belief is controlled by rational and irrational factors, and discovering its links with other properties, such as the possession of conceptual or linguistic skills. This last set of problems includes the question of whether prelinguistic infants or animals are properly said to have beliefs.
Thus, we might think of coherence as inference to the best explanation based on a background system of beliefs, since we are not aware of such inferences for the most part, the inferences must be interpreted as unconscious inferences, as information processing, based on or finding the background system that proves most convincing of acquiring its act and used from the motivational force that its underlying and hidden desire are to do so. One might object to such an account on the grounds that not all justifiable inferences are self-explanatory, and more generally, the account of coherence may, at best, is ably successful to competitions that are based on background systems (BonJour, 1985, and Lehrer, 1990). The belief that one sees a shape competes with the claim that one does not, with the claim that one is deceived, and other sceptical objections. The background system of beliefs informs one that one is acceptingly trustworthy and enables one to meet the objections. A belief coheres with a background system just in case it enables one to meet the sceptical objections and in the way justifies one in the belief. This is a standard strong coherence theory of justification (Lehrer, 1990).
Illustrating the relationship between positive and negative coherence theories in terms of the standard coherence theory is easy. If some objection to a belief cannot be met in terms of the background system of beliefs of a person, then the person is not justified in that belief. So, to return to Trust, suppose that she has been told that a warning light has been installed on her gauge to tell her when it is not functioning properly and that when the red light is on, the gauge is malfunctioning. Suppose that when she sees the reading of 105, she also sees that the red light is on. Imagine, finally, that this is the first time the red light has been on, and, after years of working with the gauge, Julie, who has always placed her trust in the gauge, believes what the gauge tells her, that the liquid in the container is at 105 degrees. Though she believes what she reads is at 105 degrees is not a justified belief because it fails to cohere with her background belief that the gauge is malfunctioning. Thus, the negative coherence theory tells ‘us’ that she is not justified in her belief about the temperature of the contents in the container. By contrast, when the red light is not illuminated and the background system of Julie tells her that under such conditions that gauge is a trustworthy indicator of the temperature of the liquid in the container, then she is justified. The positive coherence theory tells ‘us’ that she is justified in her belief because her belief coheres with her background system of Julie tells she that under such conditions that gauge is a trustworthy indicator of the temperature of the liquid in the container, then she is justified. The positive coherence theory tells ‘us’ that she is justified in her belief because her belief coheres with her background system continues as a trustworthy system.
The foregoing sketch and illustration of coherence theories of justification have a common feature, namely, that they are what is called internalistic theories of justification what makes of such a view are the absence of any requirement that the person for whom the belief is justified have any cognitive access to the relation of reliability in question. Lacking such access, such a person will usually, have no reason for thinking the belief is true or likely to be true, but will, on such an account, are none the lesser to appear epistemologically justified in accepting it. Thus, such a view arguably marks a major break from the modern epistemological traditions, which identifies epistemic justification with having a reason, perhaps even a conclusive reason, for thinking that the belief is true. An epistemologist working within this tradition is likely to feel that the externalist, than offering a competing account of the same concept of epistemic justification with which the traditional epistemologist is concerned, has simply changed the subject.
They are theories affirming that coherence is a matter of internal relations between beliefs and that justification is a matter of coherence. If, then, justification is solely a matter of internal relations between beliefs, we are left with the possibility that the internal relations might fail to correspond with any external reality. How, one might object, can be to assume the including of interiority. A subjective notion of justification bridge the gap between mere true belief, which might be no more than a lucky guess, and knowledge, which must be grounded in some connection between internal subjective conditions and external objective realities?
The answer is that it cannot and that something more than justified true belief is required for knowledge. This result has, however, been established quite apart from consideration of coherence theories of justification. What are required maybes put by saying that the justification that one must be undefeated by errors in the background system of beliefs? Justification is undefeated by errors just in case any correction of such errors in the background system of belief would sustain the justification of the belief on the basis of the corrected system. So knowledge, on this sort of positivity is acclaimed by the coherence theory, which is the true belief that coheres with the background belief system and corrected versions of that system. In short, knowledge is true belief plus justification resulting from coherence and undefeated by error (Lehrer, 1990). The connection between internal subjective conditions of belief and external objectivity are from which reality’s result from the required correctness of our beliefs about the relations between those conditions and realities. In the example of Trust, she believes that her internal subjectivity to conditions of sensory data in which the experience and perceptual beliefs are connected with the external objectivity in which reality is the temperature of the liquid in the container in a trustworthy manner. This background belief is essential to the justification of her belief that the temperature of the liquid in the container is 105 degrees, and the correctness of that background belief is essential to the justification remaining undefeated. So our background system of beliefs contains a simple theory about our relation to the external world that justifies certain of our beliefs that cohere with that system. For instance, such justification to convert to knowledge, that theory must be sufficiently free from error so that the coherence is sustained in corrected versions of our background system of beliefs. The correctness of the simple background theory provides the connection between the internal condition and external reality.
The coherence theory of truth arises naturally out of a problem raised by the coherence theory of justification. The problem is that anyone seeking to determine whether she has knowledge is confined to the search for coherence among her beliefs. The sensory experiences she has been deaf-mute until they are represented in the form of some perceptual belief. Beliefs are the engines that pull the train of justification. Nevertheless, what assurance do we have that our justification is based on true beliefs? What justification do we have that any of our justifications are undefeated? The fear that we might have none, that our beliefs might be the artifacts of some deceptive demon or scientist, leads to the quest to reduce truth to some form, perhaps an idealized form, of justification (Rescher, 1973, and Rosenberg, 1980). That would close the threatening sceptical gap between justification and truth. Suppose that a belief is true if and only if it is justifiable of some person. For such a person there would be no gap between justification and truth or between justification and undefeated justification. Truth would be coherence with some ideal background system of beliefs, perhaps one expressing a consensus among systems or some consensus among belief systems or some convergence toward a consensus. Such a view is theoretically attractive for the reduction it promises, but it appears open to profound objectification. One is that there is a consensus that we can all be wrong about at least some matters, for example, about the origins of the universe. If there is a consensus that we can all be wrong about something, then the consensual belief system rejects the equation of truth with the consensus. Consequently, the equation of truth with coherence with a consensual belief system is itself incoherently.
Coherence theories of the content of our beliefs and the justification of our beliefs themselves cohere with our background systems but coherence theories of truth do not. A defender of coherentism must accept the logical gap between justified belief and truth, but may believe that our capacities suffice to close the gap to yield knowledge. That view is, at any rate, a coherent one.
What makes a belief justified and what makes a true belief knowledge? Thinking that whether a belief deserves one of these appraisals is natural depends on what causal subject to have the belief. In recent decades a number of epistemologists have pursed this plausible idea with a variety of specific proposals. Some causal theories of knowledge have it that a true belief that ‘p’ is knowledge just in case it has the right causal connection to the fact that ‘p’. Such a criterion can be applied only to cases where the fact that ‘p’ is a sort that can enter causal relations, this seems to exclude mathematically and other necessary facts and perhaps any fact expressed by a universal generalization, and proponents of this sort of criterion have usually of this sort of criterion have usually supposed that it is limited to perceptual knowledge of particular facts about the subject’s environment.
For example, Armstrong (1973) proposed that a belief of the form ‘This (perceived) object is F’ is (non-inferential) knowledge if and only if the belief is a completely reliable sign that the perceived object is ‘F’, that is, the fact that the object is ‘F’ contributed to causing the belief and its doing so depended on properties of the believer such that the laws of nature dictated that, for any subject ‘χ’ is to occur, and so thus a perceived object of ‘y’, if ‘χ’ undergoing those properties are for ‘us’ to believe that ‘y’ is ‘F’, then ‘y’ is ‘F’. Dretske (1981) offers a similar account, in terms of the belief’s being caused by a signal received by the perceiver that carries the information that the object is ‘F’.
This sort of condition fails, however, to be sufficient for non-inferential perceptual knowledge because it is compatible with the belief’s being unjustified, and an unjustifiable belief cannot be knowledge. For example, suppose that your mechanisms for colour perception are working well, but you have been given good reason to think otherwise, to think, say, that the substantive primary colours that are perceivable, that things look chartreuse to you and chartreuse things look magenta. If you fail to heed these reasons you have for thinking that your colour perception or sensory data is a way. Believing in a ‘thing’, which looks to blooms of vividness that you are to believe of its chartreuse, your belief will fail to be justified and will therefore fail to be knowledge, even though it is caused by the thing’s being magenta in such a way as to be a completely reliable sign, or to carry the information, in that the thing is magenta.
One could fend off this sort of counterexample by simply adding to the causal condition the requirement that the belief be justified, buy this enriched condition would still be insufficient. Suppose, for example, that in nearly all people, but not in you, as it happens, causes the aforementioned aberration in colour perceptions. The experimenter tells you that you have taken such a drug but then says, ‘no, hold off a minute, the pill you took was just a placebo’, suppose further, that this last thing the experimenter tells you is false. Her telling you that it was a false statement, and, again, telling you this gives you justification for believing of a thing that looks a subtractive primary colour to you that it is a sensorial primary colour, in that the fact you were to expect that the experimenters last statements were false, making it the case that your true belief is not knowledgeably correct, thought as though to satisfy its causal condition.
Goldman (1986) has proposed an importantly different causal criterion namely, that a true belief is knowledge, if it is produced by a type of process that is ‘globally’ and ‘locally’ reliable. Causing true beliefs is sufficiently high is globally reliable if its propensity. Local reliability has to do with whether the process would have produced a similar but false belief in certain counterfactual situations alternative to the actual situation. This way of marking off true beliefs that are knowledge does not require the fact believed to be casually related to the belief, and so it could in principle apply to knowledge of any kind of truth.
Goldman requires that global reliability of the belief-producing process for the justification of a belief, he requires it also for knowledge because justification is required for knowledge, in what requires for knowledge but does not require for justification, which is locally reliable. His idea is that a justified true belief is knowledge if the type of process that produced it would not have produced it in any relevant counterfactual situation in which it is false. The relevant alternative account of knowledge can be motivated by noting that other concepts exhibit the same logical structure. Two examples of this are the concept ‘flat’ and the concept ‘empty’ (Dretske, 1981). Both appear to be absolute concepts-A space is empty only if it does not contain anything and a surface is flat only if it does not have any bumps. However, the absolute character of these concepts is relative to a standard. In the case of ‘flat’, there is a standard for what counts as a bump and in the case of ‘empty’, there is a standard for what counts as a thing. To be flat is to be free of any relevant bumps and to be empty is to be devoid of all relevant things.
Nevertheless, the human mind abhors a vacuum. When an explicit, coherent world-view is absent, it functions on the basis of a tactic one. A tactic world-view is not subject to a critical evaluation, and it can easily harbour inconsistencies. Indeed, our tactic set of beliefs about the nature of reality is made of contradictory bits and pieces. The dominant component is a leftover from another period, the Newtonian ‘clock universe’ still lingers as we cling to this old and tired model because we know of nothing else that can take its place. Our condition is the condition of a culture that is in the throes of a paradigm shift. A major paradigm shift is complex and difficult because a paradigm holds ‘us captive: We see reality through it, as through coloured glasses, but we do not know that, we are convinced that we see reality as it is. Hence the appearance of a new and different paradigm is often incomprehensible. To someone raised believing that the Earth is flat, the suggestion that the Earth is spherical would seem preposterous: If the Earth were spherical, would not the poor antipodes fall ‘down’ into the sky?
Yet, as we faced within a new millennium, we are forced to face this challenge. The fate of the planet is in question, and it was brought to its present precarious condition largely because of our trust in the Newtonian paradigm. As Newtonian world-view has to go, and, if one looks carefully, the main feature of the new, emergent paradigm can be discerned. The search for these features is what was the influence of a fading paradigm. All paradigms include subterranean realms of tactic assumptions, the influence of which outlasts the adherence to the paradigm itself.
The first line of exploration suggests the ‘weird’ aspects of the quantum theory, with fertile grounds for our feeling of which should disappear in inconsistencies with the prevailing world-view. This feeling is in replacing by the new one, i.e., if one believes that the Earth is flat, the story of Magellan’s travels is quite puzzling: How travelling due west is possible for a ship and, without changing direct. Arrive at its place of departure? Obviously, when the flat-Earth paradigm is replaced by the belief that Earth is spherical, the puzzle is instantly resolved.
The founders of Relativity and quantum mechanics were deeply engaging but incomplete, in that none of them attempted to construct a philosophical system, however, that the mystery at the heart of the quantum theory called for a revolution in philosophical outlooks. During which time, the 1920's, when quantum mechanics reached maturity, began the construction of a full-blooded philosophical system that was based not only on science but on nonscientific modes of knowledge as well. As, the fading influence drawn upon the paradigm goes well beyond its explicit claim. We believe, as the scenists and philosophers did, that when we wish to find out the truth about the universe, nonscientific nodes of processing human experiences can be ignored, poetry, literature, art, music are all wonderful, but, in relation to the quest for knowledge of the universe, they are irrelevant. Yet, it was Alfred North Whitehead who pointed out the fallacy of this speculative assumption. In this, as well as in other aspects of thinking of some reality in which are the building blocks of reality are not material atoms but ‘throbs of experience’. Whitehead formulated his system in the late 1920s, and yet, as far as I know, the founders of quantum mechanics were unaware of it. It was not until 1963 that J.M. Burgers pointed out that its philosophy accounts very well for the main features of the quanta, especially the ‘weird ones’, enabling as in some aspects of reality is ‘higher’ or ’deeper’ than others, and if so, what is the structure of such hierarchical divisions? What of our place in the universe? Finally, what is the relationship between the great aspiration within the lost realms of nature? An attempt to endow ‘us’ with a cosmological meaning in such a universe seems totally absurd, and, yet, this very universe is just a paradigm, not the truth. When you reach its end, you may be willing to join the alternate view as accorded to which, surprisingly bestow ‘us’ with what is restored, although in a Post-postmodern context.
The philosophical implications of quantum mechanics have been regulated by subjective matter’s, as to emphasis the connections between what I believe, in that investigations of such interconnectivity are anticipatorially the hesitations that are an exclusion held within the western traditions, however, the philosophical thinking, from Plato to Platinous had in some aspects of interpretational presentation of her expression of a consensus of the physical community. Other aspects are shared by some and objected to sometimes vehemently by others. Still other aspects express my own views and convictions, as turning about to be more difficult that anticipated, discovering that a conversational mode would be helpful, but, their conversations with each other and with me in hoping that all will be not only illuminating but finding to its read may approve in them, whose dreams are dreams among others than themselves.
These examples make it seem likely that, if there is a criterion for what makes an alternative situation relevant that will save Goldman’s claim about reliability and the acceptance of knowledge, it will not be simple.
The interesting thesis that counts asa causal theory of justification, in the meaning of ‘causal theory’ intend of the belief that is justified just in case it was produced by a type of process that is ‘globally’ reliable, that is, its propensity to produce true beliefs - that can be defined to a favourably bringing close together the proportion of the belief and to what it produces, or would produce where it used as much as opportunity allows, that is true-is sufficiently that a belief acquires favourable epistemic status by having some kind of reliable linkage to the truth. Variations of this view have been advanced for both knowledge and justified belief. The first formulations of are reliably in its account of knowing appeared in if not by F.P. Ramsey (1903-30) who made important contributions to mathematical logic, probability theory, the philosophy of science and economics. Instead of saying that quarks have such-and-such properties, the Ramsey sentence says that it is moderately something that has those properties. If the process is repeated for all of the theoretical terms, the sentence gives the ‘topic-neutral’ structure of the theory, but removes any implication that we know what the term so covered have as a meaning. It leaves open the possibility of identifying the theoretical item with whatever, but it is that best fits the description provided, thus, substituting the term by a variable, and existentially qualifying into the result. Ramsey was one of the first thinkers to accept a ‘redundancy theory of truth’, which he combined its radical views of the function of many kinds of the proposition. Neither generalizations, nor causal propositions, not those treating probabilities or ethics, described facts, but each has a different specific function in our intellectual commentators on the early works of Wittgenstein, and his continuing friendship with the latter liked to Wittgenstein’s return to Cambridge and to philosophy in 1929.
The most sustained and influential application of these ideas were in the philosophy of mind, or brain, as Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951) whom Ramsey persuaded that remained work for him to do, the way that is most undoubtedly was of an appealingly charismatic figure in a 20th-century philosophy, living and writing with a power and intensity that frequently overwhelmed his contemporaries and readers, the early period is centred on the ‘picture theory of meaning’ according to which sentence represents a state of affairs by being a kind of picture or model of it. Containing the elements that were in corresponding to those of the state of affairs and structure or form that mirrors that a structure of the state of affairs that it represents. All logic complexity is reduced to that of the ‘propositional calculus, and all propositions are ‘truth-functions of atomic or basic propositions.
The interesting thesis that counts as a causal theory of justification, in the making of ‘causal theory’ intended for the belief as it is justified in case it was produced by a type of process that is ‘globally’ reliable, that is, its propensity to produce true beliefs that can be defined, to a well-thought-of approximation, as the proportion of the beliefs it produces, or would produce where it used as much as opportunity allows, that is true is sufficiently relializable. Variations of this view have been advanced for both knowledge and justified belief, its first formulation of a reliability account of knowing appeared in the notation from F.P. Ramsey (1903-30). The theory of probability, he was the first to show how a ‘personalist theory’ could be developed, based on a precise behavioural notion of preference and expectation. In the philosophy of language. Much of Ramsey’s work was directed at saving classical mathematics from ‘intuitionism’, or what he called the ‘Bolshevik menace of Brouwer and Weyl. In the theory of probability he was the first to show how a personalist theory could be developed, based on precise behavioural notation of preference and expectation. In the philosophy of language, Ramsey was one of the first thankers, which he combined with radical views of the function of many kinds of a proposition. Neither generalizations, nor causal propositions, nor those treating probability or ethics, describe facts, but each has a different specific function in our intellectual economy.
Ramsey’s sentence theory is the sentence generated by taking all the sentences affirmed in a scientific theory that use some term, e.g., ‘quark’. Replacing the term by a variable, and existentially quantifying into the result. Instead of saying that quarks have such-and-such properties, the Ramsey sentence says that there is something that has those properties. If the process is repeated for all of a group of the theoretical terms, the sentence gives the ‘topic-neutral’ structure of the theory, but removes any implication that we know what the term so treated characterized. It leaves open the possibility of identifying the theoretical item with whatever, and it is that best fits the description provided. Virtually, all theories of knowledge, of course, share an externalist component in requiring truth as a condition for known in. Reliabilism goes further, however, in trying to capture additional conditions for knowledge by ways of a nomic, counterfactual or other such ‘external’ relations between belief and truth. Closely allied to the nomic sufficiency account of knowledge, primarily dur to Dretshe (1971, 1981), A. I. Goldman (1976, 1986) and R. Nozick (1981). The core of this approach is that x’s belief that ‘p’ qualifies as knowledge just in case ‘x’ believes ‘p’, because of reasons that would not obtain unless ‘p’s’ being true, or because of a process or method that would not yield belief in ‘p’ if ‘p’ were not true. For example, ‘x’ would not have its current reasons for believing there is a telephone before it. Perhaps, would it not come to believe that this in the way it suits the purpose, thus, there is a differentiable fact of a reliable guarantor that the belief’s bing true. A stouthearted and valiant counterfactual approach says that ‘x’ knows that ‘p’ only if there is no ‘relevant alternative’ situation in which ‘p’ is false but ‘x’ would still believe that a proposition ‘p’; must be sufficient to eliminate all the alternatives too ‘p’ where an alternative to a proposition ‘p’ is a proposition incompatible with ‘p’? . That in one’s justification or evidence for ‘p’ must be sufficient for one to know that every alternative too ‘p’ is false. This element of our evolving thinking, about which knowledge is exploited by sceptical arguments. These arguments call our attentions to alternatives that our evidence sustains itself with no elimination. The sceptic inquires to how we know that we are not seeing a cleverly disguised mule. While we do have some evidence against the likelihood of such as deception, intuitively knowing that we are not so deceived is not strong enough for ‘us’. By pointing out alternate but hidden points of nature, in that we cannot eliminate, as well as others with more general application, as dreams, hallucinations, etc., the sceptic appears to show that every alternative is seldom. If ever, satisfied.
This conclusion conflicts with another strand in our thinking about knowledge, in that we know many things. Thus, there is a tension in our ordinary thinking about knowledge ~. We believe that knowledge is, in the sense indicated, an absolute concept and yet, we also believe that there are many instances of that concept.
If one finds absoluteness to be too central a component of our concept of knowledge to be relinquished, one could argue from the absolute character of knowledge to a sceptical conclusion (Unger, 1975). Most philosophers, however, have taken the other course, choosing to respond to the conflict by giving up, perhaps reluctantly, the absolute criterion. This latter response holds as sacrosanct our commonsense belief that we know many things (Pollock, 1979 and Chisholm, 1977). Each approach is subject to the criticism that it preserves one aspect of our ordinary thinking about knowledge at the expense of denying another. The theory of relevant alternatives can be viewed as an attempt to provide a more satisfactory response to this tension in our thinking about knowledge. It attempts to characterize knowledge in a way that preserves both our belief that knowledge is an absolute concept and our belief that we have knowledge.
Theories, in philosophy of science, are generalizations or set of generalizations purportedly referring to unobservable entities, e.g., atoms, genes, quarks, unconscious wishes. The ideal gas law, for example, refers only to such observables as pressure, temperature, and volume; the molecular-kinetic theory refers to molecules and their properties. Although, an older usage suggests lack of adequate evidence in playing a subordinate role with which carries through effectuating the discharge, as put in force, or into effect to continue (‘merely a theory’), current philosophical usage that does not carry that connotation. Einstein’s special theory of relativity for example, is considered extremely well founded.
As space, the classical questions include: Is space real? Is it some kind of mental construct or artefact of our ways of perceiving and thinking? Is it ‘substantival’ or purely? ‘Relational’? According to substantivalism, space is an objective thing consisting of points or regions at which, or in which, things are located. Opposed to this is relationalism, according to which the only things that are real about space are the spatial (and temporal) relations between physical objects. Substantivalism was advocated by Clarke speaking for Newton, and relationalism by Leibniz, in their famous correspondence, and the debate continues today. There is also an issue whether the measure of space and time are objective e, or whether an element of convention enters them. Whereby, the influential analysis of David Lewis suggests that regularity hold as a matter of convention when it solves a problem of coordination in a group. This means that it is to the benefit of each member to conform to the regularity, providing the others do so. Any number of solutions to such a problem may exist, for example, it is to the advantages of each of us to drive on the same side of the road as others, but indifferent whether we all drive o the right or the left. One solution or another may emerge for a variety of reasons. It is notable that on this account convections may arise naturally; they do not have to be the result of specific agreement. This frees the notion for use in thinking about such things as the origin of language or of political society.
Finding to a theory that magnifies the role of decisions, or free selection from among equally possible alternatives, in order to show that what appears to be objective or fixed by nature is in fact an artefact of human convention, similar to conventions of etiquette, or grammar, or law. Thus one might suppose that moral rules owe more to social convention than to anything imposed from outside, or that supposedly inexorable necessities are in fact the shadow of our linguistic conventions. The disadvantage of conventionalism is that it must show that alternative, equally workable e conventions could have been adopted, and it is often easy to believe that, for example, if we hold that some ethical norm such as respect for promises or property is conventional, we ought to be able to show that human needs would have been equally well satisfied by a system involving a different norm, and this may be hard to establish.
A convention also suggested by Paul Grice (1913-88) directing participants in conversation to pay heed to an accepted purpose or direction of the exchange. Contributions made deficiently non-payable for attentions of which were liable to be rejected for other reasons than straightforward falsity: Something true but unhelpful or inappropriately are met with puzzlement or rejection. We can thus never infer fro the fact that it would be inappropriate to say something in some circumstance that what would be aid, were we to say it, would be false. This inference was frequently and in ordinary language philosophy, it being argued, for example, that since we do not normally say ‘there sees to be a barn there’ when there is unmistakably a barn there, it is false that on such occasions there seems to be a barn there.
There are two main views on the nature of theories. According to the ‘received view’ theories are partially interpreted axiomatic systems, according to the semantic view, a theory is a collection of models (Suppe, 1974). However, a natural language comes ready interpreted, and the semantic problem is no specification but of understanding the relationship between terms of various categories (names, descriptions, predicates, adverbs . . .) and their meanings. An influential proposal is that this relationship is best understood by attempting to provide a ‘truth definition’ for the language, which will involve giving terms and structure of different kinds have on the truth-condition of sentences containing them.
The axiomatic method . . . as, . . . a proposition lid down as one from which we may begin, an assertion that we have taken as fundamental, at least for the branch of enquiry in hand. The axiomatic method is that of defining as a set of such propositions, and the ‘proof procedures’ or finding of how a proof ever gets started. Suppose I have as a premise (1) p and (2) p ➞ q. Can I infer q? Only, it seems, if I am sure of, (3) (p & p ➞ q) ➞ q. Can I then infer q? Only, it seems, if I am sure that (4) (p & p ➞ q) ➞ q) ➞ q. For each new axiom (N) I need a further axiom (N + 1) telling me that the set-class may as, perhaps be so far that it implies ‘q’, and the regress never stops. The usual solution is to treat a system as containing not only axioms, but also rules of reference, allowing movement fro the axiom. The rule ‘modus ponens’ allow us to pass from the first two premises to ‘q’. Charles Dodgson Lutwidge (1832-98) better known as Lewis Carroll’s puzzle shows that it is essential to distinguish two theoretical categories, although there may be choice about which to put in which category.
This type of theory (axiomatic) usually emerges as a body of (supposes) truths that are not nearly organized, making the theory difficult to survey or study a whole. The axiomatic method is an idea for organizing a theory (Hilbert 1970): one tries to select from among the supposed truths a small number from which all others can be seen to be deductively inferrable. This makes the theory rather more tractable since, in a sense, all the truths are contained in those few. In a theory so organized, the few truths from which all others are deductively inferred are called axioms. In that, just as algebraic and differential equations, which were used to study mathematical and physical processes, could themselves be made mathematical objects, so axiomatic theories, like algebraic and differential equations, which are means of representing physical processes and mathematical structures, could be made objects of mathematical investigation.
When the principles were taken as epistemologically prior, that is, as axioms, either they were taken to be epistemologically privileged, e.g., self-evident, not needing to be demonstrated or (again, inclusive ‘or’) to be such that all truths do follow from them (by deductive inferences). Gödel (1984) showed that treating axiomatic theories as themselves mathematical objects, that mathematics, and even a small part of mathematics, elementary number theory, could not be axiomatized, that, more precisely, any class of axioms which in such that we could effectively decide, of any proposition, whether or not it was in the class, would be too small to capture all of the truths.
The use of a model to test for the consistency of an axiomatized system is older than modern logic. Descartes’s algebraic interpretation of Euclidean geometry provides a way of showing tat if the theory of real numbers is consistent, so is the geometry. Similar mapping had been used by mathematicians in the 19th century for example to show that if Euclidean geometry is consistent, so are various non-Euclidean geometries. Model theory is the general study of this kind of procedure: The study of interpretations of formal system. Proof theory studies relations of deductibility as defined purely syntactically, that is, without reference to the intended interpretation of the calculus. More formally, a deductively valid argument starting from true premises, that yields the conclusion between formulae of a system. But once the notion of an interpretation is in place we can ask whether a formal system meets certain conditions. In particular, can it lead us from sentences that are true under some interpretation to ones that are false under the same interpretation? And if a sentence is true under all interpretations, is it also a theorem of the system? We can define a notion of validity (a formula is valid if it is true in all interpretations) and semantic consequence. The central questions for a calculus will be whether all and only its theorems are valid, and whether {A1 . . . An} ⊨ B -if and only if, {A1. . . . and some formulae’s ⊢ B}. These are the questions of the soundness and completeness of a formal system. For the propositional calculus this turns into the question of whether the proof theory delivers as theorems all and only tautologies. There are many axiomatizations of the propositional calculus that are consistent an complete. Gödel proved in 1929 that first-order predicate calculus is complete: any formula that is true under every interpretation is a theorem of the calculus.
The propositional calculus or logical calculus whose expressions are on condition, but represent sentences or propositions, and constants representing operations on those propositions to produce others of higher complexity. The operations include conjunction, disjunction, material implication and negation (although these need not be primitive). Propositional logic was partially anticipated by the Stoics but researched maturity only with the work of Frége, Russell, and Wittgenstein.
Keeping in mind, the two classical ruth-values that a statement, proposition, or sentence can take. It is supposed in classical (two-valued) logic, that each statement has one of these e values, and none has both. A statement is then false if and only if it is not true. The basis of this scheme is that to each statement t there corresponds a determinate truth condition, or way the world must be for it to be true, and otherwise false. Statements may be felicitous or infelicitous in other dimensions (polite, misleading, apposite, witty, etc.) but truth is the central normative governing assertion. Considerations of vagueness may introduce greys into a black-and-white scheme. For the issue of whether falsities is the only of failing to be true.
Formally, it is nonetheless, that any suppressed premise or background framework of thought necessary to make an argument valid, or a position tenable. More formally, a presupposition has been defined as a proposition whose truth is necessary for either the truth or the falsity of another statement. Thus, if ‘p’ presupposes ‘q’, ‘q’ must be true for p to be either true or false. In the theory of knowledge of Robin George Collngwood (1889-1943), any propositions capable of truth or falsity stand on a bed of ‘absolute presuppositions’ which are not properly capable of truth or falsity, since a system of thought will contain no way of approaching such a question. It was suggested by Peter Strawson (1919-), in opposition to Russell’s theory of ‘definite descriptions, that ‘there exists a King of France’ is a presupposition of ‘the King of France is bald’, the latter being neither true, nor false, if there is no King of France. It is, however, a little unclear whether the idea is that no statement at all is made in such a case, or whether a statement is made, but fails of being either true or false. The former option preserves classical logic, since we can still say that every statement is either true or false, but the latter des not, since in classical logic the law of ‘bivalence’ holds, and ensures that nothing at all is presupposed for any proposition to be true or false. The introduction of presupposition therefore means tat either a third truth-value is found, ‘intermediate’ between truth and falsity, or that classical logic is preserved, but it is impossible to tell whether a particular sentence expresses a proposition that is a candidate for truth ad falsity, without knowing more than the formation rules of the language. Each suggestion carries costs, and there is some consensus that at least where definite descriptions are involved, examples like the one given are equally well handed by regarding the overall sentence false when the existence claim fails.
A proposition may be true or false it is said to take the truth-value true, and if the latter are the truth-value false. The idea behind the term is the analogy between assigning a propositional variable one or other of these values, as a formula of the propositional calculus, and assigning an object as the value of any other variable. Logics with intermediate values are called many-valued logics. Then, a truth-function of a number of propositions or sentences is a function of them that has a definite truth-value, depends only on the truth-values of the constituents. Thus (p & q) is a combination whose truth-value is true when ‘p’ is true and ‘q’ is true, and false otherwise, ¬ p is a truth-function of ‘p’, false when ‘p’ is true and true when ‘p’ is false. The way in which te value of the whole is determined by the combinations of values of constituents is presented in a truth table.
In whatever manner, truths of fact cannot be reduced to any identity and our only way of knowing them is empirically, by reference to the facts of the empirical world. Likewise, since their denial does not involve a contradiction, there is merely contingent: There could have been in other ways a hold of the actual world, but not every possible one. Some examples re ‘Caesar crossed the Rubicon’ and ‘Leibniz was born in Leipzig’, as well as propositions expressing correct scientific generalizations. In Leibniz’s view truths of fact rest on the principle of sufficient reason, which is a reason why it is so. This reason is that the actual worlds by which he means the total collection of things past, present and their combining futures are better than any other possible world and therefore created by God. The foundation of his thought is the conviction that to each individual there corresponds a complete notion, knowable only to God, from which is deducible all the properties possessed by the individual at each moment in its history. It is contingent that God actualizes te individual that meets such a concept, but his doing so is explicable by the principle of ‘sufficient reason’, whereby God had to actualize just that possibility in order for this to be the best of all possible worlds. This thesis is subsequently lampooned by Voltaire (1694-1778), in whom of which was prepared to take refuge in ignorance, as the nature of the soul, or the way to reconcile evil with divine providence.
In defending the principle of sufficient reason sometimes described as the principle that nothing can be so without there being a reason why it is so. Bu t the reason has to be of a particularly potent kind: Eventually it has to ground contingent facts in necessities, and in particular in the reason an omnipotent and perfect being would have for actualizing one possibility than another. Among the consequences of the principle is Leibniz’s relational doctrine of space, since if space were an infinite box there could be no reason for the world to be at one point in rather than another, and God placing it at any point violate the principle. In Abelard’s (1079-1142), as in Leibniz, the principle eventually forces te recognition that the actual world is the best of all possibilities, since anything else would be inconsistent with the creative power that actualizes possibilities.
If truth consists in concept containment, then it seems that all truths are analytic and hence necessary, and if they are all necessary, surely they are all truths of reason? In that not every truth can be reduced to an identity in a finite number of steps; in some instances revealing the connection between subject and predicate concepts would require an infinite analysis, but while this may entail that we cannot prove such propositions as a prior, it does not appear to show that proposition could have ben false. Intuitively, it seems a better ground for supposing that it is a necessary truth of a special sort. A related question arises from the idea that truths of fact depend on God’s decision to create the best world: If it is part of the concept of this world that it is best, how could its existence be other than necessary? An accountable and responsively answered explanation would be so, that any relational question that brakes the norm lay eyes on its existence in the manner other than hypothetical necessities, i.e., it follows from God’s decision to create the world, but God had the power to create this world, but God is necessary, so how could he have decided to do anything else? Leibniz says much more about these matters, but it is not clear whether he offers any satisfactory solutions.
The view that the terms in which we think of some area are sufficiently infected with error for it to be better to abandon them than to continue to try to give coherent theories of their use. Eliminativism should be distinguished from scepticism which claims that we cannot know the truth about some area; eliminativism claims rather than there is no truth there to be known, in the terms which we currently think. An eliminativist about Theology simply counsels abandoning the terms or discourse of Theology, and that will include abandoning worries about the extent of theological knowledge.
Eliminativists in the philosophy of mind counsel abandoning the whole network of terms mind, consciousness, self, Qualia that usher in the problems of mind and body. Sometimes the argument for doing this is that we should wait for a supposed future understanding of ourselves, based on cognitive science and better than any our current mental descriptions provide, sometimes it is supposed that physicalism shows that no mental description of us could possibly be true.
Greek scepticism centred on the value of enquiry and questioning, scepticism is now the denial that knowledge or even rational belief is possible, either about some specific subject matter, e.g., ethics, or in any subsequent whatsoever. Classically, scepticism springs from the observation that the best methods in some area seem to fall short of giving us contact with the truth, e.g., there is a gulf between appearance and reality, and in frequency cites the conflicting judgements that our methods deliver, with the result that questions of truth become indeterminant causes to come to a conclusion, in that beyond any doubt in mind for which is settled in one’s mind: The faltering fluctuations that are undecidable.
Sceptical tendencies emerged in the 14th-century writings of Nicholas of Autrecourt. His criticisms of any certainty beyond the immediate deliverance of the senses and basic
logic, and in particular of any knowledge of either intellectual or material substances, anticipate the later scepticism of Balye and Hume. The latter distinguish between Pyrrhonistic and excessive scepticism, which he regarded as unlivable, and the more mitigated scepticism which accepts every day or common-sense beliefs (not as the delivery of reason, but as due more to custom and habit), but is duly wary of the power of reason to give us much more. Mitigated scepticism is thus closer to the attitude fostered by ancient scepticism from Pyrrho through to Sexus Empiricus. Although the phrase ‘Cartesian scepticism’ is sometimes used, Descartes himself was not a sceptic, but in the method of doubt, uses a sceptical scenario in order to begin the process of finding a secure mark of knowledge. Descartes himself trusts a category of ‘clear and distinct’ ideas, not far removed from the phantasia kataleptiké of the Stoics.
Scepticism should not be confused with relativism, which is a doctrine about the nature of truth, and may be motivated by trying to avoid scepticism. Nor is it identical with eliminativism, which counsels abandoning an area of thought altogether, not because being framed in the terms we use.
Descartes’s theory of knowledge starts with we cannot know the truth, but because there are no truths capable of the quest for certainty, for an indubitable starting-point or foundation on the basis alone of which progress is possible. This is eventually found in the launching celebrations as gratified in the ‘Cogito ergo sum’: I think therefore I am. By locating the point of certainty in my own awareness of my own self, Descartes gives a first-person twist to the theory of knowledge that dominated them following centuries in spite of a various counterattack on behalf of social and public starting-points. The metaphysic associated with this priority is the famous Cartesian dualism, or separation of mind and matter into a dual purposed interacting substances, Descartes rigorously and rightly sees that it takes divine dispensation to certify any relationship between the two realms thus divided, and to prove the reliability of the senses invokes a ‘clear and distinct perception’ of highly dubious proofs of the existence of a benevolent deity. This has not met general acceptance: as Hume drily puts it, ‘to have recourse to the veracity of the supreme Being, in order to prove the veracity of our senses, is surely making a very unexpected circuit’.
In his own time Descartes’s conception of the entirely separate substance of the mind was recognized to give rise to insoluble problems of the nature of the causal connection between the two. It also gives rise to the problem, insoluble in its own terms, of other minds. Descartes’s notorious denial that nonhuman animals are conscious is a stark illustration of the problem. In his conception of matter Descartes also gives preference to rational cogitation over anything derived from the senses. Since we can conceive of the matter of a ball of wax surviving changes to its sensible qualities, matter is not an empirical concept, but eventually an entirely geometrical one, with extension and motion as its only physical nature. Descartes’s thought, as reflected in Leibniz, that the qualities of sense experience have no resemblance to qualities of things, so that knowledge of the external world is essentially knowledge of structure rather than of filling. On this basis Descartes erects a remarkable physics. Since matter is in effect the same as extension there can be no empty space or ‘void’, since there is no empty space motion is not a question of occupying previously empty space, but is to be thought of in terms of vortices (like the motion of a liquid).
Although the structure of Descartes’s epistemology, the philosophical theories of mind, and theory of matter have ben rejected many times, their relentless awareness of the hardest issues, their exemplary clarity, and even their initial plausibility, all contrives to make him the central point of reference for modern philosophy.
The self conceived as Descartes presents it in the first two Meditations: aware only of its own thoughts, and capable of disembodied existence, neither situated in a space nor surrounded by others. This is the pure self of ‘I’ that we are tempted to imagine as a simple unique thing that makes up our essential identity. Descartes’s view that he could keep hold of this nugget while doubting everything else is criticized by Lichtenberg and Kant, and most subsequent philosophers of mind.
Descartes holds that we do not have any knowledge of any empirical proposition about anything beyond the contents of our own minds. The reason, roughly put, is that there is a legitimate doubt about all such propositions because there is no way to deny justifiably that our senses are being stimulated by some cause (an evil spirit, for example) which is radically different from the objects which we normally think affect our senses.
He also points out, that the senses (sight, hearing, touch, etc., are often unreliable, and ‘it is prudent never to trust entirely those who have deceived us even once’, he cited such instances as the straight stick which looks bent in water, and the square tower which oddily appears round from a distance. This argument of illusion, has not, on the whole, impressed commentators, and some of Descartes’ contemporaries pointing out that since such errors come to light as a result of further sensory information, It cannot be right to cast wholesale doubt on the evidence of the senses. But Descartes regarded the argument from illusion as only the first stage in a softening up process which would ‘lead the mind away from the senses’. He admits that there are some cases of sense-base belief about which doubt would be insane, e.g., the belief that I am sitting here by the fire, wearing a winter dressing gown’.
Descartes was to realize that there was nothing in this view of nature that could explain or provide a foundation for the mental, or from direct experience as distinctly human. In a mechanistic universe, he said, there is no privileged place or function for mind, and the separation between mind and matter is absolute. Descartes was also convinced, that the immaterial essences that gave form and structure to this universe were coded in geometrical and mathematical ideas, and this insight led him to invent algebraic geometry.
A scientific understanding of these ideas could be derived, said Descartes, with the aid of precise deduction, and he also claimed that the contours of physical reality could be laid out in three-dimensional coordinates. Following the publication of Newton’s Principia Mathematica in 1687, reductionism and mathematical modelling became the most powerful tools of modern science. And the dream that the entire physical world could be known and mastered through the extension and refinement of mathematical theory became the central feature and guiding principle of scientific knowledge.
Having to its recourse of knowledge, its cental questions include the origin of knowledge, the place of experience in generating knowledge, and the place of reason in doing so, the relationship between knowledge and certainty, and between knowledge and the impossibility of error, the possibility of universal scepticism, and the changing forms of knowledge that arise from new conceptualizations of the world. All of these issues link with other central concerns of philosophy, such as the nature of truth and the natures of experience and meaning. Seeing epistemology is possible as dominated by two rival metaphors. One is that of a building or pyramid, built on foundations. In this conception it is the kob of the philosopher to describe especially secure foundations, and to identify secure modes of construction, is that the resulting edifice can be shown to be sound. This metaphor of knowledge, and of a rationally defensible theory of confirmation and inference as a method of construction, as that knowledge must be regarded as a structure rose upon secure, certain foundations. These are found in some formidable combinations of experience and reason, with different schools (empiricism, rationalism) emphasizing the role of one over that of the others. Foundationalism was associated with the ancient Stoics, and in the modern era with Descartes (1596-1650). Who discovered his foundations in the ‘clear and distinct’ ideas of reason? Its main opponent is coherentism, or the view that a body of propositions mas be known without a foundation in certainty, but by their interlocking strength, than as a crossword puzzle may be known to have been solved correctly even if each answer, taken individually, admits of uncertainty. Difficulties at this point led the logical passivists to abandon the notion of an epistemological foundation together, and to flirt with the coherence theory of truth. It is widely accepted that trying to make the connection between thought and experience through basic sentences depends on an untenable ‘myth of the given’.
Still, of the other metaphor, is that of a boat or fuselage, that has no foundation but owes its strength to the stability given by its interlocking parts. This rejects the idea of a basis in the ‘given’, favours ideas of coherence and holism, but finds it harder to ward off scepticism. In spite of these concerns, the problem, least of mention, is of defining knowledge in terms of true beliefs plus some favoured relations between the believer and the facts that began with Plato’s view in the “Theaetetus,” that knowledge is true belief, and some logos. Due of its nonsynthetic epistemology, the enterprising of studying the actual formation of knowledge by human beings, without aspiring to certify those processes as rational, or its proof against ‘scepticism’ or even apt to yield the truth. Natural epistemology would therefore blend into the psychology of learning and the study of episodes in the history of science. The scope for ‘external’ or philosophical reflection of the kind that might result in scepticism or its refutation is markedly diminished. Despite the fact that the terms of modernity are so distinguished as exponents of the approach include Aristotle, Hume, and J.S. Mills.
The task of the philosopher of a discipline would then be to reveal the correct method and to unmask counterfeits. Although this belief lay behind much positivist philosophy of science, few philosophers now subscribe to it. It places too well a confidence in the possibility of a purely previous ‘first philosophy’, or viewpoint beyond that of the work one’s way of practitioners, from which their best efforts can be measured as good or bad. These standpoints now seem that to many philosophers are to be fancifully more modest of tasks that are actually adopted at various historical stages of investigation into different areas with the aim not so much of criticizing but more of systematization, in the presuppositions of a particular field at a particular tie. There is still a role for local methodological disputes within the community investigators of some phenomenon, with one approach charging that another is unsound or unscientific, but logic and philosophy will not, on the modern view, provide an independent arsenal of weapons for such battles, which indeed often come to seem more like political bids for ascendancy within a discipline.
This is an approach to the theory of knowledge that sees an important connection between the growth of knowledge and biological evolution. An evolutionary epistemologist claims that the development of human knowledge processed through some natural selection process, the best example of which is Darwin’s theory of biological natural selection. There is a widespread misconception that evolution proceeds according to some plan or direct, but it has neither, and the role of chance ensures that its future course will be unpredictable. Random variations in individual organisms create tiny differences in their Darwinian fitness. Some individuals have more offsprings than others, and the characteristics that increased their fitness thereby become more prevalent in future generations. Once upon a time, at least a mutation occurred in a human population in tropical Africa that changed the haemoglobin molecule in a way that provided resistance to malaria. This enormous advantage caused the new gene to spread, with the unfortunate consequence that sickle-cell anaemia came to exist.
Chance can influence the outcome at each stage: First, in the creation of genetic mutation, second, in wether the bearer lives long enough to show its effects, thirdly, in chance events that influence the individual’s actual reproductive success, and fourth, in wether a gene even if favoured in one generation, is, happenstance, eliminated in the next, and finally in the many unpredictable environmental changes that will undoubtedly occur in the history of any group of organisms. As Harvard biologist Stephen Jay Gould has so vividly expressed that process over again, the outcome would surely be different. Not only might there not be humans, there might not even be anything like mammals.
We will often emphasis the elegance of traits shaped by natural selection, but the common idea that nature creates perfection needs to be analysed carefully. The extent to which evolution achieves perfection depends on exactly what you mean. If you mean “Does natural selections always take the best path for the long-term welfare of a species?” The answer is no. That would require adaption by group selection, and this is, unlikely. If you mean “Does natural selection creates every adaption that would be valuable?” The answer again, is no. For instance, some kinds of South American monkeys can grasp branches with their tails. The trick would surely also be useful to some African species, but, simply because of bad luck, none have it. Some combination of circumstances started some ancestral South American monkeys using their tails in ways that ultimately led to an ability to grab onto branches, while no such development took place in Africa. Mere usefulness of a trait does not necessitate a means in that what will understandably endure phylogenesis or evolution.
This is an approach to the theory of knowledge that sees an important connection between the growth of knowledge and biological evolution. An evolutionary epistemologist claims that the development of human knowledge proceeds through some natural selection process, the best example of which is Darwin’s theory of biological natural selection. The three major components of the model of natural selection are variation selection and retention. According to Darwin’s theory of natural selection, variations are not pre-designed to do certain functions. Rather, these variations that do useful functions are selected. While those that do not employ of some coordinates in that are regainfully purposed are also, not to any of a selection, as duly influenced of such a selection, that may have responsibilities for the visual aspects of a variational intentionally occurs. In the modern theory of evolution, genetic mutations provide the blind variations: Blind in the sense that variations are not influenced by the effects they would have-the likelihood of a mutation is not correlated with the benefits or liabilities that mutation would confer on the organism, the environment provides the filter of selection, and reproduction provides the retention. Fit is achieved because those organisms with features that make them less adapted for survival do not survive in connection with other organisms in the environment that have features that are better adapted. Evolutionary epistemology applies this blind variation and selective retention model to the growth of scientific knowledge and to human thought processes overall.
The parallel between biological evolution and conceptual or ‘epistemic’ evolution can be seen as either literal or analogical. The literal version of evolutionary epistemology dees biological evolution as the main cause of the growth of knowledge. On this view, called the ‘evolution of cognitive mechanic programs’, by Bradie (1986) and the ‘Darwinian approach to epistemology’ by Ruse (1986), that growth of knowledge occurs through blind variation and selective retention because biological natural selection itself is the cause of epistemic variation and selection. The most plausible version of the literal view does not hold that all human beliefs are innate but rather than the mental mechanisms that guide the acquisitions of non-innate beliefs are themselves innately and the result of biological natural selection. Ruse, (1986) demands of a version of literal evolutionary epistemology that he links to sociolology (Rescher, 1990).
On the analogical version of evolutionary epistemology, called the ‘evolution of theory’s program’, by Bradie (1986). The ‘Spenserians approach’ (after the nineteenth century philosopher Herbert Spencer) by Ruse (1986), the development of human knowledge is governed by a process analogous to biological natural selection, rather than by an instance of the mechanism itself. This version of evolutionary epistemology, introduced and elaborated by Donald Campbell (1974) as well as Karl Popper, sees the [partial] fit between theories and the world as explained by a mental process of trial and error known as epistemic natural selection.
Both versions of evolutionary epistemology are usually taken to be types of naturalized epistemology, because both take some empirical facts as a starting point for their epistemological project. The literal version of evolutionary epistemology begins by accepting evolutionary theory and a materialist approach to the mind and, from these, constructs an account of knowledge and its developments. In contrast, the metaphorical version does not require the truth of biological evolution: It simply draws on biological evolution as a source for the model of natural selection. For this version of evolutionary epistemology to be true, the model of natural selection need only apply to the growth of knowledge, not to the origin and development of species. Crudely put, evolutionary epistemology of the analogical sort could still be true even if creationism is the correct theory of the origin of species.
Although they do not begin by assuming evolutionary theory, most analogical evolutionary epistemologists are naturalized epistemologists as well, their empirical assumptions, least of mention, implicitly come from psychology and cognitive science, not evolutionary theory. Sometimes, however, evolutionary epistemology is characterized in a seemingly non-naturalistic fashion. Campbell (1974) says that ‘if one is expanding knowledge beyond what one knows, one has no choice but to explore without the benefit of wisdom’, i.e., blindly. This, Campbell admits, makes evolutionary epistemology close to being a tautology (and so not naturalistic). Evolutionary epistemology does assert the analytic claim that when expanding one’s knowledge beyond what one knows, one must precessed to something that is already known, but, more interestingly, it also makes the synthetic claim that when expanding one’s knowledge beyond what one knows, one must proceed by blind variation and selective retention. This claim is synthetic because it can be empirically falsified. The central claim of evolutionary epistemology is synthetic, not analytic. If the central contradictory, which they are not. Campbell is right that evolutionary epistemology does have the analytic feature he mentions, but he is wrong to think that this is a distinguishing feature, since any plausible epistemology has the same analytic feature (Skagestad, 1978).
Two extraordinary issues lie to awaken the literature that involves questions about ‘realism’, i.e., What metaphysical commitment does an evolutionary epistemologist have to make? Progress, i.e., according to evolutionary epistemology, does knowledge develop toward a goal? With respect to realism, many evolutionary epistemologists endorse that is called ‘hypothetical realism’, a view that combines a version of epistemological ‘scepticism’ and tentative acceptance of metaphysical realism. With respect to progress, the problem is that biological evolution is not goal-directed, but the growth of human knowledge seems to be. Campbell (1974) worries about the potential dis-analogy here but is willing to bite the stone of conscience and admit that epistemic evolution progress toward a goal (truth) while biologic evolution does not. Many another has argued that evolutionary epistemologists must give up the ‘truth-topic’ sense of progress because a natural selection model is in essence, is non-teleological, as an alternative, following Kuhn (1970), and embraced in the accompaniment with evolutionary epistemology.
Among the most frequent and serious criticisms levelled against evolutionary epistemology is that the analogical version of the view is false because epistemic variation is not blind (Skagestad, 1978 and Ruse, 1986) Stein and Lipton (1990) have argued, however, that this objection fails because, while epistemic variation is not random, its constraints come from heuristics that, for the most part, are selective retention. Further, Stein and Lipton come to the conclusion that heuristics are analogous to biological pre-adaptions, evolutionary pre-biological pre-adaptions, evolutionary cursors, such as a half-wing, a precursor to a wing, which have some function other than the function of their descendable structures: The function of descend’s meaning in the awareness of senses ability to make intelligent choices and to reach intelligent conclusions or decisions. Justly as to position something in a specific place and having or manifesting great force or strength as in acting or resisting, such as something mad e up of more or less independent elements and having a definite organizational pattern. That is to say, that, the structural function of their descendable character embodied to its structural foundations, is that of the guidelines of epistemic variation is, on this view, not the source of disanaloguousness, but the source of a more articulated account of the analogy.
Many evolutionary epistemologists try to combine the literal and the analogical versions (Bradie, 1986, and Stein and Lipton, 1990), saying that those beliefs and cognitive mechanisms, which are innate results from natural selection of the biological sort and those that are innate results from natural selection of the epistemic sort. This is reasonable asa long as the two parts of this hybrid view are kept distinct. An analogical version of evolutionary epistemology with biological variation as its only source of blondeness would be a null theory: This would be the case if all our beliefs are innate or if our non-innate beliefs are not the result of blind variation. An appeal to the legitimate way to produce a hybrid version of evolutionary epistemology since doing so trivializes the theory. For similar reasons, such an appeal will not save an analogical version of evolutionary epistemology from arguments to the effect that epistemic variation is blind (Stein and Lipton, 1990).
Although it is a new approach to theory of knowledge, evolutionary epistemology has attracted much attention, primarily because it represents a serious attempt to flush out a naturalized epistemology by drawing on several disciplines. In science is relevant to understanding the nature and development of knowledge, then evolutionary theory is among the disciplines worth a look. Insofar as evolutionary epistemology looks there, it is an interesting and potentially fruitful epistemological programme.
What makes a belief justified and what makes a true belief knowledge? Thinking that whether a belief deserves one of these appraisals is natural depends on what caused the depicted branch of knowledge to have the belief. In recent decades a number of epistemologists have pursued this plausible idea with a variety of specific proposals. Some causal theories of knowledge have it that a true belief that ‘p’ is knowledge just in case it has the right causal connection to the fact that ‘p’. Such a criterion can be applied only to cases where the fact that ‘p’ is a sort that can enter inti causal relations, as this seems to exclude mathematically and other necessary facts and perhaps any fact expressed by a universal generalization, and proponents of this sort of criterion have usually supposed that it is limited to perceptual representations where knowledge of particular facts about subjects’ environments.
For example, Armstrong (1973) predetermined that a position held by a belief in the form ‘This perceived object is ‘F’ is [non-inferential] knowledge if and only if the belief is a completely reliable sign that the perceived object is ‘F’, that ism, the fact that the object is ‘F’ contributed to causing the belief and its doing so depended on properties of the believer such that the laws of nature dictated that, for any subject ‘χ’ and perceived object ‘y’, if ‘χ’ has those properties and believed that ‘y’ is ‘F’, then ‘y’ is ‘F’. (Dretske (1981) offers a rather similar account, in terms of the belief’s being caused by a signal received by the perceiver that carries the information that the object is ‘F’).
This sort of condition fails, however, to be sufficiently for non-inferential perceptivity, for knowledge is accountable for its compatibility with the belief’s being unjustified, and an unjustified belief cannot be knowledge. For example, suppose that your mechanisms for the sensory data of colour as perceived, are working well. However, you have been given good reason to think otherwise, to think, say, that the sensory data of things look chartreuse to say, that chartreuse things look magenta, if you fail to heed these reasons you have for thinking that your colour perception is refractively to follow a credo of things that look bicoloured to you that it is tinge, your belief will fail atop be justified and will therefore fail to be knowledge, even though it is caused by the thing’s being withing the grasp of sensory perceptivity, in such a way as to be a completely reliable sign, or to carry the information that the thing is sufficiently to organize all sensory data as perceived in and of the world, or Holistic view.
One could fend off this sort of counterexample by simply adding to the belief be justified. However, this enriched condition would still be insufficient. Suppose, for example, that in an experiment you are given a drug that in nearly all people, but not in you, as it happens, causes the aforementioned aberration in colour perception. The experimenter tells you that you have taken such a drug but then says, That the pill taken was just a placebo’. Yet suppose further, that the experimenter tells you are false, her telling you this gives you justification for believing of a thing that looks magenta to you that it is magenta, but a fact about this justification that is unknown to you, that the experimenter’s last statement was false, makes it the case that your true belief is not knowledge even though it satisfies Armstrong’s causal condition.
Goldman (1986) has proposed an importantly different causal criterion, namely, that a true belief is knowledge if it is produced by a type of process that is ‘globally’ and ‘locally’ reliable. Causing true beliefs is sufficiently high is globally reliable if its propensity. Local reliability has to do with whether the process would have produced a similar but false belief in certain counterfactual situations alternative to the actual situation. This way of marking off true beliefs that are knowledge does not require the fact believed to be causally related to the belief, and so it could in principle apply to knowledge of any kind of truth.
Goldman renquires the global reliability of the belief-producing process for the justification of a belief, he requires it also for knowledge because justification is required for knowledge. What he requires for knowledge, but does not require for justification is local reliability. His idea is that a justified true belief is knowledge if the type of process that produced it would not have produced it in any relevant counterfactual situation in which it is false. Its purported theory of relevant alternatives can be viewed as an attempt to provide a more satisfactory response to this tension in our thinking about knowledge. It attempts to characterize knowledge in a way that preserves both our belief that knowledge is an absolute concept and our belief that we have knowledge.
According to the theory, we need to qualify rather than deny the absolute character of knowledge. We should view knowledge as absolute, reactive to certain standards (Dretske, 1981 and Cohen, 1988). That is to say, in order to know a proposition, our evidence need not eliminate all the alternatives to that preposition, rather for ‘us’, that we can know our evidence eliminates all the relevant alternatives, where the set of relevant alternatives (a proper subset of the set of all alternatives) is determined by some standard. Moreover, according to the relevant alternatives view, and the standards determining that of the alternatives is raised by the sceptic are not relevant. If this is correct, then the fact that our evidence cannot eliminate the sceptic’s alternative does not lead to a sceptical result. For knowledge requires only the elimination of the relevant alternatives, so the relevant alternative view preserves in both strands in our thinking about knowledge. Knowledge is an absolute concept, but because the absoluteness is relative to a standard, we can know many things.
The interesting thesis that counts as a causal theory of justification (in the meaning of ‘causal theory’ intended here) is the following: A belief is justified in case it was produced by a type of process that is ‘globally’ reliable, that is, its propensity to produce true beliefs-that can be defined (to a good approximation) As the proportion of the beliefs it produces (or would produce) that is true is sufficiently great.
This proposal will be adequately specified only when we are told (I) how much of the causal history of a belief counts as part of the process that produced it, (ii) which of the many types to which the process belongs is the type for purposes of assessing its reliability, and (iii) relative to why the world or worlds are the reliability of the process type to be assessed the actual world, the closet worlds containing the case being considered, or something else? Let ‘us’ look at the answers suggested by Goldman, the leading proponent of a reliabilist account of justification.
(1) Goldman (1979, 1986) takes the relevant belief producing process to include only the proximate causes internal to the believer. So, for instance, when recently I believed that the telephone was ringing the process that produced the belief, for purposes of assessing reliability, includes just the causal chain of neural events from the stimulus in my ear’s inward ands other concurrent brain states on which the production of the belief depended: It does not include any events’ of an ‘I’ in the calling of a telephone or the sound waves travelling between it and my ears, or any earlier decisions I made that were responsible for my being within hearing distance of the telephone at that time. It does seem intuitively plausible of a belief depends should be restricted to internal omnes proximate to the belief. Why? Goldman does not tell ‘us’. One answer that some philosophers might give is that it is because a belief’s being justified at a given time can depend only on facts directly accessible to the believer’s awareness at that time (for, if a believer ought to holds only beliefs that are justified, she can tell at any given time what beliefs would then be justified for her). However, this cannot be Goldman’s answer because he wishes to include in the relevantly process neural events that are not directly accessible to consciousness.
(2) Once the reliabilist has told ‘us’ how to delimit the process producing a belief, he needs to tell ‘us’ which of the many types to which it belongs is the relevant type. Coincide, for example, the process that produces your current belief that you see a book before you. One very broad type to which that process belongs would be specified by ‘coming to a belief as to something one perceives as a result of activation of the nerve endings in some of one’s sense-organs’. A constricted type, for which an unvarying process belongs, for in that, would be specified by ‘coming to a belief as to what one sees as a result of activation of the nerve endings in one’s retinas’. A still narrower type would be given by inserting in the last specification a description of a particular pattern of activation of the retina’s particular cells. Which of these or other types to which the token process belongs is the relevant type for determining whether the type of process that produced your belief is reliable?
If we select a type that is too broad, as having the same degree of justification various beliefs that intuitively seem to have different degrees of justification. Thus the broadest type we specified for your belief that you see a book before you apply also to perceptual beliefs where the object seen is far away and seen only briefly is less justified. On the other hand, is we are allowed to select a type that is as narrow as we please, then we make it out that an obviously unjustified but true belief is produced by a reliable type of process. For example, suppose I see a blurred shape through the fog far in a field and unjustifiedly, but correctly, believe that it is a sheep: If we include enough details about my retinal image is specifying the type of the visual process that produced that belief, we can specify a type is likely to have only that one instanced and is therefore 100 percent reliable. Goldman conjectures (1986) that the relevant process type is ‘the narrowest type that is casually operative’. Presumably, a feature of the process producing beliefs were causally operatives in producing it just in case some alternative feature instead, but it would not have led to that belief. (We need to say ‘some’ here rather than ‘any’, because, for example, when I see an oak tree the particular ‘oak’ material bodies of my retinal images are clearly casually operatives in producing my belief that I see a tree even though there are alternative shapes, for example, ‘oakish’ ones, that would have produced the same belief.)
(3) Should the justification of a belief in a hypothetical, non-actual example turn on the reliability of the belief-producing process in the possible world of the example? That leads to the implausible result in that in a world run by a Cartesian demon a powerful being who causes the other inhabitants of the world to have rich and coherent sets of perceptual and memory impressions that are all illusory the perceptual and memory beliefs of the other inhabitants are all unjustified, for they are produced by processes that are, in that world, quite unreliable. If we say instead that it is the reliability of the processes in the actual world that matters, we get the equally undesired result that if the actual world is a demon world then our perceptual and memory beliefs are all unjustified.
Goldman’s solution (1986) is that the reliability of the process types is to be gauged by their performance in ‘normal’ worlds, that is, worlds consistent with ‘our general beliefs about the world . . . ‘about the sorts of objects, events and changes that occur in it’. This gives the intuitively right results for the problem cases just considered, but indicate by inference an implausible proportion of making compensations for alternative tending toward justification. If there are people whose general beliefs about the world are very different from mine, then there may, on this account, be beliefs that I can correctly regard as justified (ones produced by processes that are reliable in what I take to be a normal world) but that they can correctly regard as not justified.
However, these questions about the specifics are dealt with, and there are reasons for questioning the basic idea that the criterion for a belief’s being justified is its being produced by a reliable process. Thus and so, doubt about the sufficiency of the reliabilist criterion is prompted by a sort of example that Goldman himself uses for another purpose. Suppose that being in brain-state always causes one to believe that one is in brained-state B. Here the reliability of the belief-producing process is perfect, but ‘we can readily imagine circumstances in which a person goes into grain-state B and therefore has the belief in question, though this belief is by no means justified’ (Goldman, 1979). Doubt about the necessity of the condition arises from the possibility that one might know that one has strong justification for a certain belief and yet that knowledge is not what actually prompts one to believe. For example, I might be well aware that, having read the weather bureau’s forecast that it will be much hotter tomorrow. I have ample reason to be confident that it will be hotter tomorrow, but I irrationally refuse to believe it until my Aunt Hattie tells me that she feels in her joints that it will be hotter tomorrow. Here what prompts me to believe dors not justify my belief, but my belief is nevertheless justified by my knowledge of the weather bureau’s prediction and of its evidential force: I can advert to any disclaiming assumption that I ought not to be holding the belief. Indeed, given my justification and that there is nothing untoward about the weather bureau’s prediction, my belief, if true, can be counted knowledge. This sorts of example raises doubt whether any causal conditions, are it a reliable process or something else, is necessary for either justification or knowledge.
Philosophers and scientists alike, have often held that the simplicity or parsimony of a theory is one reason, all else being equal, to view it as true. This goes beyond the unproblematic idea that simpler theories are easier to work with and gave greater aesthetic appeal.
One theory is more parsimonious than another when it postulates fewer entities, processes, changes or explanatory principles: The simplicity of a theory depends on essentially the same consecrations, though parsimony and simplicity obviously become the same. Demanding clarification of what makes one theory simpler or more parsimonious is plausible than another before the justification of these methodological maxims can be addressed.
If we set this description problem to one side, the major normative problem is as follows: What reason is there to think that simplicity is a sign of truth? Why should we accept a simpler theory instead of its more complex rivals? Newton and Leibniz thought that the answer was to be found in a substantive fact about nature. In “Principia,” Newton laid down as his first Rule of Reasoning in Philosophy that ‘nature does nothing in vain . . . ‘for Nature is pleased with simplicity and affects not the pomp of superfluous causes’. Leibniz hypothesized that the actual world obeys simple laws because God’s taste for simplicity influenced his decision about which world to actualize.
The tragedy of the Western mind, described by Koyré, is a direct consequence of the stark Cartesian division between mind and world. We discovered the ‘certain principles of physical reality’, said Descartes, ‘not by the prejudices of the senses, but by the light of reason, and which thus possess so great evidence that we cannot doubt of their truth’. Since the real, or that which actually exists external to ourselves, was in his view only that which could be represented in the quantitative terms of mathematics, Descartes conclude that all quantitative aspects of reality could be traced to the deceitfulness of the senses.
The most fundamental aspect of the Western intellectual tradition is the assumption that there is a fundamental division between the material and the immaterial world or between the realm of matter and the realm of pure mind or spirit. The metaphysical farmwork based on this assumption is known as ontological dualism. As the word dual implies, the framework is predicated on an ontology, or a conception of the nature of God or Being, that assumes reality has two distinct and separable dimensions. The concept of Being as continuous, immutable, and having a prior or separate existence from the world of change dates from the ancient Greek philosopher Parmenides. The same qualities were associated with the God of the Judeo-Christian tradition, and they were considerably amplified by the role played in the theology by Platonic and Neoplatonic philosophy.
Nicolas Copernicus, Galileo, Johannes Kepler, and Isaac Newton were all inheritors of a cultural tradition in which ontological dualism was a primary article of faith. Hence the idealization of the mathematical ideal as a source of communion with God, which dates from Pythagoras, provided a metaphysical foundation for the emerging natural sciences. This explains why, the creators of classical physics believed that doing physics was a form of communion with the geometrical and mathematical form’s resident in the perfect mind of God. This view would survive in a modified form in what is now known as Einsteinian epistemology and accounts in no small part for the reluctance of many physicists to accept the epistemology y associated with the Copenhagen Interpretation.
At the beginning of the nineteenth century, Pierre-Simon LaPlace, along with a number of other French mathematicians, advanced the view that the science of mechanics constituted a complete view of nature. Since this science, by observing its epistemology, had revealed itself to be the fundamental science, the hypothesis of God was, they concluded, entirely unnecessary.
LaPlace is recognized for eliminating not only the theological component of classical physics but the ‘entire metaphysical component’ as well’. The epistemology of science requires, he said, that, ‘we start by inductive generalizations from observed facts to hypotheses that are ‘tested by observed conformity of the phenomena’. What was unique about LaPlace’s view of hypotheses was his insistence that we cannot attribute reality to them. Although concepts like force, mass, motion, cause, and laws are obviously present in classical physics, they exist in LaPlace’s view only as quantities. Physics is concerned, he argued, with quantities that we associate as a matter of convenience with concepts, and the truths about nature are only the quantities.
As this view of hypotheses and the truths of nature as quantities were extended in the nineteenth century to a mathematical description of phenomena like heat, light, electricity, and magnetism. LaPlace’s assumptions about the actual character of scientific truths seemed correct. This progress suggested that if we could remove all thoughts about the ‘nature of’ or the ‘source of’ phenomena, the pursuit of strictly quantitative concepts would bring us to a complete description of all aspects of physical reality. Subsequently, figures like Comte, Kirchhoff, Hertz, and Poincaré developed a program for the study of nature that was quite different from that of the original creators of classical physics.
The seventeenth-century view of physics as a philosophy of nature or as natural philosophy was displaced by the view of physics as an autonomous science that was ‘the science of nature’. This view, which was premised on the doctrine of positivism, promised to subsume all of the nature with a mathematical analysis of entities in motion and claimed that the true understanding of nature was revealed only in the mathematical description. Since the doctrine of positivism assumes that the knowledge we call physics resides only in the mathematical formalism of physical theory, it disallows the prospect that the vision of physical reality revealed in physical theory can have any other meaning. In the history of science, the irony is that positivism, which was intended to banish metaphysical concerns from the domain of science, served to perpetuate a seventeenth-century metaphysical assumption about the relationship between physical reality and physical theory.
Epistemology since Hume and Kant has drawn back from this theological underpinning. Indeed, the very idea that nature is simple (or uniform) has come in for a critique. The view has taken hold that a preference for simple and parsimonious hypotheses is purely methodological: It is constitutive of the attitude we call ‘scientific’ and makes no substantive assumption about the way the world is.
A variety of otherwise diverse twentieth-century philosophers of science have attempted, in different ways, to flesh out this position. Two examples must suffice here: Hesse (1969) as, for summaries of other proposals. Popper (1959) holds that scientists should prefer highly falsifiable (improbable) theories: He tries to show that simpler theories are more falsifiable, also Quine (1966), in contrast, sees a virtue in theories that are highly probable, he argues for a general connection between simplicity and high probability.
Both these proposals are global. They attempt to explain why simplicity should be part of the scientific method in a way that spans all scientific subject matters. No assumption about the details of any particular scientific problem serves as a premiss in Popper’s or Quine’s arguments.
Newton and Leibniz thought that the justification of parsimony and simplicity flows from the hand of God: Popper and Quine try to justify these methodologically maims without assuming anything substantive about the way the world is. In spite of these differences in approach, they have something in common. They assume that all users of parsimony and simplicity in the separate sciences can be encompassed in a single justifying argument. That recent developments in confirmation theory suggest that this assumption should be scrutinized. Good (1983) and Rosenkrantz (1977) has emphasized the role of auxiliary assumptions in mediating the connection between hypotheses and observations. Whether a hypothesis is well supported by some observations, or whether one hypothesis is better supported than another by those observations, crucially depends on empirical background assumptions about the inference problem here. The same view applies to the idea of prior probability (or, prior plausibility). In of a single hypo-physical science if chosen as an alternative to another even though they are equally supported by current observations, this must be due to an empirical background assumption.
Principles of parsimony and simplicity mediate the epistemic connection between hypotheses and observations. Perhaps these principles are able to do this because they are surrogates for an empirical background theory. It is not that there is one background theory presupposed by every appeal to parsimony; This has the quantifier order backwards. Rather, the suggestion is that each parsimony argument is justified only to each degree that it reflects an empirical background theory about the subjective matter. On this theory is brought out into the open, but the principle of parsimony is entirely dispensable (Sober, 1988).
This ‘local’ approach to the principles of parsimony and simplicity resurrects the idea that they make sense only if the world is one way rather than another. It rejects the idea that these maxims are purely methodological. How defensible this point of view is, will depend on detailed case studies of scientific hypothesis evaluation and on further developments in the theory of scientific inference.
It is usually not found of one and the same that, an inference is a (perhaps very complex) act of thought by virtue of which act (1) I pass from a set of one or more propositions or statements to a proposition or statement and (2) it appears that the latter are true if the former is or are. This psychological characterization begets some occurrences of wider summations toward its occupying study in literature, under more lesser than inessential variations. Desiring a better characterization of inference is natural. Yet attempts to do so by constructing a fuller psychological explanation fail to comprehend the grounds on which inference will be objectively valid. Persuasibly potent, as having the power to impress others as right and well-founded as a convincing-conclusion for which Gottlob Frége attempts to understand the nature of inference through the device of the representation of inference by formal-logical calculations or derivations better (1) leave ‘us’ puzzled about the relation of formal-logical derivations to the informal inferences they are supposedly to represent or reconstruct, and (2) leaves ‘us’ worried about the sense of such formal derivations. Are these deprivations inference? Are not informal inferences needed in order to apply the rules governing the constructions of formal derivations (inferring that this operation is an application of that formal rule)? These are concerns cultivated by, for example, Wittgenstein.
Coming up with an adequate characterization of inference-and even working out what would count as a very adequate characterization here is demandingly by no means nearly some resolved philosophical problem. Traditionally, a proposition that is not a ‘conditional’, as with the ‘affirmative’ and ‘negative’, modern opinion is wary of the distinction, since what appears categorical may vary with the choice of a primitive vocabulary and notation. Apparently categorical propositions may also turn out to be disguised conditionals: ‘x’ is intelligent (categorical?) Equivalent, if ‘x’ is given a range of tasks, she does them better than many people (conditional?). The problem is not merely one of classification, since deep metaphysical questions arise when facts that seem to be categorical and therefore solid, come to seem by contrast conditional, or purely hypothetical or potential.
Its condition of some classified necessity is so proven sufficient that if ‘p’ is a necessary condition of ‘q’, then ‘q’ cannot be true unless ‘p’; is true? If ‘p’ is a sufficient condition, thus steering well is a necessary condition of driving in a satisfactory manner, but it is not sufficient, for one can steer well but drive badly for other reasons. Confusion may result if the distinction is not heeded. For example, the statement that ‘A’ causses ‘B’ may be interpreted to mean that ‘A’ is itself a sufficient condition for ‘B’, or that it is only a necessary condition fort ‘B’, or perhaps a necessary parts of a total sufficient condition. Lists of conditions to be met for satisfying some administrative or legal requirement frequently attempt to give individually necessary and jointly sufficient sets of conditions.
What is more, that if any proposition of the form ‘if p then q’. The condition hypothesized, ‘p’. Is called the antecedent of the conditionals, and ‘q’, the consequent? Various kinds of conditional have been distinguished. Its weakest is that of ‘material implication’, merely telling that either ‘not-p’, or ‘q’. Stronger conditionals include elements of ‘modality’, corresponding to the thought that ‘if p is truer then q must be true’. Ordinary language is very flexible in its use of the conditional form, and there is controversy whether conditionals are better treated semantically, yielding differently finds of conditionals with different meanings, or pragmatically, in which case there should be one basic meaning with surface differences arising from other implicatures.
It follows from the definition of ‘strict implication’ that a necessary proposition is strictly implied by any proposition, and that an impossible proposition strictly implies any proposition. If strict implication corresponds to ‘q follows from p’, then this means that a necessary proposition follows from anything at all, and anything at all follows from an impossible proposition. This is a problem if we wish to distinguish between valid and invalid arguments with necessary conclusions or impossible premises.
The Humean problem of induction is that if we would suppose that there is some property ‘A’ concerning and observational or an experimental situation, and that out of a large number of observed instances of ‘A’, some fraction m/n (possibly equal to 1) has also been instances of some logically independent property ‘B’. Suppose further that the background apportionable circumstances, not specified in these descriptions have been varied to a substantial degree and that there is no collateral information available concerning the frequency of ‘B’s’ among ‘A’s’ or, concerning causal or nomologically connections between instances of ‘A’ and instances of ‘B’.
In this situation, an ‘enumerative’ or ‘instantial’ induction inference would move rights from the premise, that m/n of observed ‘A’s’ are ‘B’s’ to the conclusion that approximately m/n of all ‘A’s’ are ‘B’s’. (The usual probability qualification will be assumed to apply to the inference, rather than being part of the conclusion.) Here the set class of the ‘A’s’, should be taken to include not only unobserved ‘A’s’ and future ‘A’s’, but also possible or hypothetical ‘A’s’ (an alternative conclusion would concern the probability or likelihood of the adjacently observed ‘A’ being a ‘B’).
The traditional or Humean problem of induction, often referred to simply as ‘the problem of induction’, is the problem of whether and why inferences that fit this schema should be considered rationally acceptable or justified from an epistemic or cognitive standpoint, i.e., whether and why reasoning in this way is likely to lead to true claims about the world. Is there any sort of argument or rationale that can be offered for thinking that conclusions reached in this way are likely to be true in the corresponding premisses is true - or even that their chances of truth are significantly enhanced?
Hume’s discussion of this issue deals explicitly only with cases where all observed ‘A’s’ are ‘B’s’ and his argument applies just as well to the more general case. His conclusion is entirely negative and sceptical: Inductive inferences are not rationally justified, but are instead the result of an essentially a-rational process, custom or habit. Hume (1711-76) challenges the proponent of induction to supply a cogent line of reasoning that leads from an inductive premise to the corresponding conclusion and offers an extremely influential argument in the form of a dilemma (a few times referred to as ‘Hume’s fork’), that either our actions are determined, in which case we are not responsible for them, or they are the result of random events, under which case we are also not responsible for them.
Such reasoning would, he argues, have to be either deductively demonstrative reasoning in the concerning relations of ideas or ‘experimental’, i.e., empirical, that reasoning concerning matters of fact or existence. It cannot be the former, because all demonstrative reasoning relies on the avoidance of contradiction, and it is not a contradiction to suppose that ‘the course of nature may change’, that an order that was observed in the past and not of its continuing against the future: But it cannot be, as the latter, since any empirical argument would appeal to the success of such reasoning about an experience, and the justifiability of generalizing from experience are precisely what is at issue-so that any such appeal would be question-begging. Hence, Hume concludes that there can be no such reasoning (1748).
An alternative version of the problem may be obtained by formulating it with reference to the so-called Principle of Induction, which says roughly that the future will resemble the past or, somewhat better, that unobserved cases will resemble observed cases. An inductive argument may be viewed as enthymematic, with this principle serving as a supposed premiss, in which case the issue is obviously how such a premiss can be justified. Hume’s argument is then that no such justification is possible: The principle cannot be justified a prior because having possession of been true in experiences without obviously begging the question is not contradictory to have possession of been true in experiences without obviously begging the question.
The predominant recent responses to the problem of induction, at least in the analytic tradition, in effect accept the main conclusion of Hume’s argument, namely, that inductive inferences cannot be justified in the sense of showing that the conclusion of such an inference is likely to be true if the premise is true, and thus attempt to find another sort of justification for induction. Such responses fall into two main categories: (I) Pragmatic justifications or ‘vindications’ of induction, mainly developed by Hans Reichenbach (1891-1953), and (ii) ordinary language justifications of induction, whose most important proponent is Frederick, Peter Strawson (1919-). In contrast, some philosophers still attempt to reject Hume’s dilemma by arguing either (iii) That, contrary to appearances, induction can be inductively justified without vicious circularity, or (iv) that an anticipatory justification of induction is possible after all. In that:
(1) Reichenbach’s view is that induction is best regarded, not as a form of inference, but rather as a ‘method’ for arriving at posits regarding, i.e., the proportion of ‘A’s’ remain additionally of ‘B’s’. Such a posit is not a claim asserted to be true, but is instead an intellectual wager analogous to a bet made by a gambler. Understood in this way, the inductive method says that one should posit that the observed proportion is, within some measure of an approximation, the true proportion and then continually correct that initial posit as new information comes in.
The gambler’s bet is normally an ‘appraised posit’, i.e., he knows the chances or odds that the outcome on which he bets will actually occur. In contrast, the inductive bet is a ‘blind posit’: We do not know the chances that it will succeed or even that success is that it will succeed or even that success is possible. What we are gambling on when we make such a bet is the value of a certain proportion in the independent world, which Reichenbach construes as the limit of the observed proportion as the number of cases increases to infinity. Nevertheless, we have no way of knowing that there are even such a limit, and no way of knowing that the proportion of ‘A’s’ are in addition of ‘B’s’ converges in the end on some stable value than varying at random. If we cannot know that this limit exists, then we obviously cannot know that we have any definite chance of finding it.
What we can know, according to Reichenbach, is that ‘if’ there is a truth of this sort to be found, the inductive method will eventually find it. That this is so is an analytic consequence of Reichenbach’s account of what it is for such a limit to exist. The only way that the inductive method of making an initial posit and then refining it in light of new observations can fail eventually to arrive at the true proportion is if the series of observed proportions never converges on any stable value, which means that there is no truth to be found pertaining the proportion of ‘A’s additionally constitute ‘B’s’. Thus, induction is justified, not by showing that it will succeed or indeed, that it has any definite likelihood of success, but only by showing that it will succeed if success is possible. Reichenbach’s claim is that no more than this can be established for any method, and hence that induction gives ‘us’ our best chance for success, our best gamble in a situation where there is no alternative to gambling.
This pragmatic response to the problem of induction faces several serious problems. First, there are indefinitely many other ‘methods’ for arriving at posits for which the same sort of defence can be given-methods that yield the same result as the inductive method over time but differ arbitrarily before long. Despite the efforts of others, it is unclear that there is any satisfactory way to exclude such alternatives, in order to avoid the result that any arbitrarily chosen short term posit is just as reasonable as the inductive posit. Second, even if there is a truth of the requisite sort to be found, the inductive method is only guaranteed to find it or even to come within any specifiable distance of it in the indefinite long run. Nevertheless, any actual application of inductive results always takes place in the presence to the future eventful states in making the relevance of the pragmatic justification to actual practice uncertainly. Third, and most important, it needs to be emphasized that Reichenbach’s response to the problem simply accepts the claim of the Humean sceptic that an inductive premise never provides the slightest reason for thinking that the corresponding inductive conclusion is true. Reichenbach himself is quite candid on this point, but this does not alleviate the intuitive implausibility of saying that we have no more reason for thinking that our scientific and commonsense conclusions that result in the induction of it ‘ . . . is true’ than, to use Reichenbach’s own analogy (1949), a blind man wandering in the mountains who feels an apparent trail with his stick has for thinking that following it will lead him to safety.
An approach to induction resembling Reichenbach’s claiming in that those particular inductive conclusions are posits or conjectures, than the conclusions of cogent inferences, is offered by Popper. However, Popper’s view is even more overtly sceptical: It amounts to saying that all that can ever be said in favour of the truth of an inductive claim is that the claim has been tested and not yet been shown to be false.
(2) The ordinary language response to the problem of induction has been advocated by many philosophers, but the discussion here will be restricted to Strawson’s paradigmatic version. Strawson claims that the question whether induction is justified or reasonable makes sense only if it tacitly involves the demand that inductive reasoning meet the standards appropriate to deductive reasoning, i.e., that the inductive conclusions are shown to follow deductively from the inductive assumption. Such a demand cannot, of course, be met, but only because it is illegitimate: Inductive and deductive reasons are simply fundamentally different kinds of reasoning, each possessing its own autonomous standards, and there is no reason to demand or expect that one of these kinds meet the standards of the other. Whereas, if induction is assessed by inductive standards, the only ones that are appropriate, then it is obviously justified.
The problem here is to understand to what this allegedly obvious justification of an induction amount. In his main discussion of the point (1952), Strawson claims that it is an analytic true statement that believing it a conclusion for which there is strong evidence is reasonable and an analytic truth that inductive evidence of the sort captured by the schema presented earlier constitutes strong evidence for the corresponding inducive conclusion, thus, apparently yielding the analytic conclusion that believing it a conclusion for which there is inductive evidence is reasonable. Nevertheless, he also admits, indeed insists, that the claim that inductive conclusions will be true in the future is contingent, empirical, and may turn out to be false (1952). Thus, the notion of reasonable belief and the correlative notion of strong evidence must apparently be understood in ways that have nothing to do with likelihood of truth, presumably by appeal to the standard of reasonableness and strength of evidence that are accepted by the community and are embodied in ordinary usage.
Understood in this way, Strawson’s response to the problem of inductive reasoning does not speak to the central issue raised by Humean scepticism: The issue of whether the conclusions of inductive arguments are likely to be true. It amounts to saying merely that if we reason in this way, we can correctly call ourselves ‘reasonable’ and our evidence ‘strong’, according to our accepted community standards. Nevertheless, to the undersealing of issue of wether following these standards is a good way to find the truth, the ordinary language response appears to have nothing to say.
(3) The main attempts to show that induction can be justified inductively have concentrated on showing that such as a defence can avoid circularity. Skyrms (1975) formulate, perhaps the clearest version of this general strategy. The basic idea is to distinguish different levels of inductive argument: A first level in which induction is applied to tings other than arguments: A second level in which it is applied to arguments at the first level, arguing that they have been observed to succeed so far and hence are likely to succeed in general: A third level in which it is applied in the same way to arguments at the second level, and so on. Circularity is allegedly avoided by treating each of these levels as autonomous and justifying the argument at each level by appeal to an argument at the next level.
One problem with this sort of move is that even if circularity is avoided, the movement to higher and higher levels will clearly eventually fail simply for lack of evidence: A level will reach at which there have been enough successful inductive arguments to provide a basis for inductive justification at the next higher level, and if this is so, then the whole series of justifications collapses. A more fundamental difficulty is that the epistemological significance of the distinction between levels is obscure. If the issue is whether reasoning in accord with the original schema offered above ever provides a good reason for thinking that the conclusion is likely to be true, then it still seems question-begging, even if not flatly circular, to answer this question by appeal to anther argument of the same form.
(4) The idea that induction can be justified on a pure priori basis is in one way the most natural response of all: It alone treats an inductive argument as an independently cogent piece of reasoning whose conclusion can be seen rationally to follow, although perhaps only with probability from its premise. Such an approach has, however, only rarely been advocated (Russell, 19132 and BonJour, 1986), and is widely thought to be clearly and demonstrably hopeless.
Many on the reasons for this pessimistic view depend on general epistemological theses about the possible or nature of anticipatory cognition. Thus if, as Quine alleges, there is no a prior justification of any kind, then obviously a prior justification for induction is ruled out. Or if, as more moderate empiricists have in claiming some preexistent knowledge should be analytic, then again a prevenient justification for induction seems to be precluded, since the claim that if an inductive premise ids truer, then the conclusion is likely to be true does not fit the standard conceptions of ‘analyticity’. A consideration of these matters is beyond the scope of the present spoken exchange.
There are, however, two more specific and quite influential reasons for thinking that an early approach is impossible that can be briefly considered, first, there is the assumption, originating in Hume, but since adopted by very many of others, that a move forward in the defence of induction would have to involve ‘turning induction into deduction’, i.e., showing, per impossible, that the inductive conclusion follows deductively from the premise, so that it is a formal contradiction to accept the latter and deny the former. However, it is unclear why a prior approach need be committed to anything this strong. It would be enough if it could be argued that it is deductively unlikely that such a premise is true and corresponding conclusion false.
Second, Reichenbach defends his view that pragmatic justification is the best that is possible by pointing out that a completely chaotic world in which there is simply not true conclusion to be found as to the proportion of ‘A’s’ in addition that occur of, but B’s’ is neither impossible nor unlikely from a purely a prior standpoint, the suggestion being that therefore there can be no a prior reason for thinking that such a conclusion is true. Nevertheless, there is still a substring wayin laying that a chaotic world is a prior neither impossible nor unlikely without any further evidence does not show that such a world os not a prior unlikely and a world containing such-and-such regularity might anticipatorially be somewhat likely in relation to an occurrence of a long-run patten of evidence in which a certain stable proportion of observed ‘A’s’ are ‘B’s’ ~. An occurrence, it might be claimed, that would be highly unlikely in a chaotic world (BonJour, 1986).
Goodman’s ‘new riddle of induction’ purports that we suppose that before some specific time ’t’ (perhaps the year 2000) we observe a larger number of emeralds (property A) and find them all to be green (property B). We proceed to reason inductively and conclude that all emeralds are green Goodman points out, however, that we could have drawn a quite different conclusion from the same evidence. If we define the term ‘grue’ to mean ‘green if examined before ’t’ and blue examined after t ʹ, then all of our observed emeralds will also be gruing. A parallel inductive argument will yield the conclusion that all emeralds are gruing, and hence that all those examined after the year 2000 will be blue. Presumably the first of these concisions is genuinely supported by our observations and the second is not. Nevertheless, the problem is to say why this is so and to impose some further restriction upon inductive reasoning that will permit the first argument and exclude the second.
The obvious alternative suggestion is that ‘grue. Similar predicates do not correspond to genuine, purely qualitative properties in the way that ‘green’ and ‘blueness’ does, and that this is why inductive arguments involving them are unacceptable. Goodman, however, claims to be unable to make clear sense of this suggestion, pointing out that the relations of formal desirability are perfectly symmetrical: Grue’ may be defined in terms if, ‘green’ and ‘blue’, but ‘green’ may equally well be defined in terms of ‘grue’ and ‘green’ (blue if examined before ‘t’ and green if examined after ‘t’).
The ‘grued, paradoxes’ demonstrate the importance of categorization, in that sometimes it is itemized as ‘gruing’, if examined of a presence to the future, before future time ‘t’ and ‘green’, or not so examined and ‘blue’. Even though all emeralds in our evidence class grue, we ought must infer that all emeralds are gruing. For ‘grue’ is unprojectible, and cannot transmit credibility from known to unknown cases. Only projectible predicates are right for induction. Goodman considers entrenchment the key to projectibility having a long history of successful protection, ‘grue’ is entrenched, lacking such a history, ‘grue’ is not. A hypothesis is projectible, Goodman suggests, only if its predicates (or suitable related ones) are much better entrenched than its rivalrous past successes that do not assume future ones. Induction remains a risky business. The rationale for favouring entrenched predicates is pragmatic. Of the possible projections from our evidence class, the one that fits with past practices enables ‘us’ to utilize our cognitive resources best. Its prospects of being true are worse than its competitors’ and its cognitive utility is greater.
So, to a better understanding of induction we should then term is most widely used for any process of reasoning that takes ‘us’ from empirical premises to empirical conclusions supported by the premises, but not deductively entailed by them. Inductive arguments are therefore kinds of applicative arguments, in which something beyond the content of the premise is inferred as probable or supported by them. Induction is, however, commonly distinguished from arguments to theoretical explanations, which share this applicative character, by being confined to inferences in which he conclusion involves the same properties or relations as the premises. The central example is induction by simple enumeration, where from premises telling that Fa, Fb, Fc . . . ‘where a, b, c’s, are all of some kind ‘G’, it is inferred that G’s from outside the sample, such as future G’s, will be ‘F’, or perhaps that all G’s are ‘F’. In this, which and the other persons deceive them, children may infer that everyone is a deceiver: Different, but similar inferences of a property by some object to the same object’s future possession of the same property, or from the constancy of some law-like pattern in events and states of affairs ti its future constancy. All objects we know of attract each other with a force inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them, so perhaps they all do so, and will always do so.
The rational basis of any inference was challenged by Hume, who believed that induction presupposed belie in the uniformity of nature, but that this belief has no defence in reason, and merely reflected a habit or custom of the mind. Hume was not therefore sceptical about the role of reason in either explaining it or justifying it. Trying to answer Hume and to show that there is something rationally compelling about the inference referred to as the problem of induction. It is widely recognized that any rational defence of induction will have to partition well-behaved properties for which the inference is plausible (often called projectible properties) from badly behaved ones, for which it is not. It is also recognized that actual inductive habits are more complex than those of similar enumeration, and that both common sense and science pay attention to such giving factors as variations within the sample giving ‘us’ the evidence, the application of ancillary beliefs about the order of nature, and so on.
Nevertheless, the fundamental problem remains that ant experience condition by application show ‘us’ only events occurring within a very restricted part of a vast spatial and temporal order about which we then come to believe things.
Uncompounded by its belonging of a confirmation theory finding of the measure to which evidence supports a theory fully formalized confirmation theory would dictate the degree of confidence that a rational investigator might have in a theory, given some body of evidence. The grandfather of confirmation theory is Gottfried Leibniz (1646-1718), who believed that a logically transparent language of science would be able to resolve all disputes. In the 20th century a fully formal confirmation theory was a main goal of the logical positivist, since without it the central concept of verification by empirical evidence itself remains distressingly unscientific. The principal developments were due to Rudolf Carnap (1891-1970), culminating in his “Logical Foundations of Probability” (1950). Carnap’s idea was that the measure necessitated would be the proportion of logically possible states of affairs in which the theory and the evidence both hold, compared ti the number in which the evidence itself holds that the probability of a preposition, relative to some evidence, is a proportion of the range of possibilities under which the proposition is true, compared to the total range of possibilities left by the evidence. The difficulty with the theory lies in identifying sets of possibilities so that they admit of measurement. It therefore demands that we can put a measure on the ‘range’ of possibilities consistent with theory and evidence, compared with the range consistent with the evidence alone.
Among the obstacles the enterprise meets, is the fact that while evidence covers only a finite range of data, the hypotheses of science may cover an infinite range. In addition, confirmation proves to vary with the language in which the science is couched, and the Carnapian programme has difficulty in separating genuinely confirming variety of evidence from less compelling repetition of the same experiment. Confirmation also proved to be susceptible to acute paradoxes. Finally, scientific judgement seems to depend on such intangible factors as the problems facing rival theories, and most workers have come to stress instead the historically situated scene of what would appear as a plausible distinction of a scientific knowledge at a given time.
Arose to the paradox of which when a set of apparent incontrovertible premises is given to unacceptable or contradictory conclusions. To solve a paradox will involve showing either that there is a hidden flaw in the premises, or that the reasoning is erroneous, or that the apparently unacceptable conclusion can, in fact, be tolerated. Paradoxes are therefore important in philosophy, for until one is solved it shows that there is something about our reasoning and our concepts that we do not understand. What is more, and somewhat loosely, a paradox is a compelling argument from unacceptable premises to an unacceptable conclusion: More strictly speaking, a paradox is specified to be a sentence that is true if and only if it is false. A characterized objection lesson of it, ought to be: “The displayed sentence is false.”
Seeing that this sentence is false if true is easy, and true if false, a paradox, in either of the senses distinguished, presents an important philosophical challenger. Epistemologists are especially concerned with various paradoxes having to do with knowledge and belief. In other words, for example, the Knower paradox is an argument that begins with apparently impeccable premisses about the concepts of knowledge and inference and derives an explicit contradiction. The origin of the reasoning is the ‘surprise examination paradox’: A teacher announces that there will be a surprise examination next week. A clever student argues that this is impossible. ‘The test cannot be on Friday, the last day of the week, because it would not be a surprise. We would know the day of the test on Thursday evening. This means we can also rule out Thursday. For after we learn that no test has been given by Wednesday, we would know the test is on Thursday or Friday -and would already know that it s not on Friday and would already know that it is not on Friday by the previous reasoning. The remaining days can be eliminated in the same manner’.
This puzzle has over a dozen variants. The first was probably invented by the Swedish mathematician Lennard Ekbon in 1943. Although the first few commentators regarded the reverse elimination argument as cogent, every writer on the subject since 1950 agrees that the argument is unsound. The controversy has been over the proper diagnosis of the flaw.
Initial analyses of the subject’s argument tried to lay the blame on a simple equivocation. Their failure led to more sophisticated diagnoses. The general format has been an assimilation to better-known paradoxes. One tradition casts the surprise examination paradox as a self-referential problem, as fundamentally akin to the Liar, the paradox of the Knower, or Gödel’s incompleteness theorem. That in of itself, says enough that Kaplan and Montague (1960) distilled the following ‘self-referential’ paradox, the Knower. Consider the sentence:
(S) The negation of this sentence is known (to be true).
Suppose that (S) is true. Then its negation is known and hence true. However, if its negation is true, then (S) must be false. Therefore (s) is false, or what is the name, the negation of (S) is true.
This paradox and its accompanying reasoning are strongly reminiscent of the Lair Paradox that (in one version) begins by considering a sentence ‘This sentence is false’ and derives a contradiction. Versions of both arguments using axiomatic formulations of arithmetic and Gödel-numbers to achieve the effect of self-reference yields important meta-theorems about what can be expressed in such systems. Roughly these are to the effect that no predicates definable in the formalized arithmetic can have the properties we demand of truth (Tarski’s Theorem) or of knowledge (Montague, 1963).
These meta-theorems still leave ‘us; with the problem that if we suppose that we add of these formalized languages predicates intended to express the concept of knowledge (or truth) and inference - as one mighty does if a logic of these concepts is desired. Then the sentence expressing the leading principles of the Knower Paradox will be true.
Explicitly, the assumption about knowledge and inferences are:
(1) If sentences ‘A’ are known, then “a.”
(2) (1) is known?
(3) If ‘B’ is correctly inferred from ‘A’, and ‘A’ is known, then ‘B’ if known.
To give an absolutely explicit t derivation of the paradox by applying these principles to (S), we must add (contingent) assumptions to the effect that certain inferences have been done. Still, as we go through the argument of the Knower, these inferences are done. Even if we can somehow restrict such principles and construct a consistent formal logic of knowledge and inference, the paradoxical argument as expressed in the natural language still demands some explanation.
The usual proposals for dealing with the Liar often have their analogues for the Knower, e.g., that there is something wrong with a self-reference or that knowledge (or truth) is properly a predicate of propositions and not of sentences. The relies that show that some of these are not adequate are often parallel to those for the Liar paradox. In addition, one can try here what seems to be an adequate solution for the Surprise Examination Paradox, namely the observation that ‘new knowledge can drive out knowledge’, but this does not seem to work on the Knower (Anderson, 1983).
There are a number of paradoxes of the Liar family. The simplest example is the sentence ‘This sentence is false’, which must be false if it is true, and true if it is false. One suggestion is that the sentence fails to say anything, but sentences that fail to say anything are at least not true. In fact case, we consider to sentences ‘This sentence is not true’, which, if it fails to say anything is not true, and hence (this kind of reasoning is sometimes called the strengthened Liar). Other versions of the Liar introduce pairs of sentences, as in a slogan on the front of a T-shirt saying ‘This sentence on the back of this T-shirt is false’, and one on the back saying ‘The sentence on the front of this T-shirt is true’. It is clear that each of the sentences individually are well formed, and if it were it not for the other, might have said something true. So any attempt to dismiss the paradox by sating that the sentence involved is meaningless will face problems.
Even so, the two approaches that have some hope of adequately dealing with this paradox is ‘hierarchy’ solutions and ‘truth-value gap’ solutions. According to the first, knowledge is structured into ‘levels’. It is argued that there be is one coherent notion, expressed by the verb ‘knows’, but rather a whole series of notions, now. Know, and so on, as perhaps into transfinite states, by term for which are predicated expressions as such, yet, there are ‘ramified’ concepts and properly restricted, (1)-(3) lead to no contradictions. The main objections to this procedure are that the meaning of these levels has not been adequately explained and that the idea of such subscripts, even implicit, in a natural language is highly counterintuitive the ‘truth-value gap’ solution takes sentences such as (S) to lack truth-value. They are neither true nor false, but they do not express propositions. This defeats a crucial step in the reasoning used in the derivation of the paradoxes. Kripler (1986) has developed this approach in connection with the Liar and Asher and Kamp (1986) has worked out some details of a parallel solution to the Knower. The principal objection is that ‘strengthened’ or ‘super’ versions of the paradoxes tend to reappear when the solution itself is stated.
Since the paradoxical deduction uses only the properties (1)-(3) and since the argument is formally valid, any notion that satisfy these conditions will lead to a paradox. Thus, Grim (1988) notes that this may be read as ‘is known by an omniscient God’ and concludes that there is no coherent single notion of omniscience. Thomason (1980) observes that with some different conditions, analogous reasoning about belief can lead to paradoxical consequence.
Overall, it looks as if we should conclude that knowledge and truth are ultimately intrinsically ‘stratified’ concepts. It would seem that wee must simply accept the fact that these (and similar) concepts cannot be assigned of any one fixed, finite or infinite. Still, the meaning of this idea certainly needs further clarification.
Its paradox arises when a set of apparently incontrovertible premises gives unacceptable or contradictory conclusions, to solve a paradox will involve showing either that there is a hidden flaw in the premises, or that the reasoning is erroneous, or that the apparently unacceptable conclusion can, in fact, be tolerated. Paradoxes are therefore important in philosophy, for until one is solved its shows that there is something about our reasoning and concepts that we do not understand. Famous families of paradoxes include the ‘semantic paradoxes’ and ‘Zeno’s paradoxes’. Art the beginning of the 20th century, paradox and other set-theoretical paradoxes led to the complete overhaul of the foundations of set theory, while the ‘Sorites paradox’ has lead to the investigations of the semantics of vagueness and fuzzy logics.
At this point, we display attributes to the theory of experience, as it is not possible to define in an illuminating way, however, we know what experiences are through acquaintances with some of our own, e.g., visual experiences of as afterimage, a feeling of physical nausea or a tactile experience of an abrasive surface (which might be caused by an actual surface -rough or smooth, or which might be part of a dream, or the product of a vivid sensory imagination). The essential feature of experience is it feels a certain way -that there is something that it is like to have it. We may refer to this feature of an experience as its ‘character’.
Another core feature of the sorts of experiences with which this may be of a concern, is that they have representational ‘content’. (Unless otherwise indicated, ‘experience’ will be reserved for their ‘contentual representations’.) The most obvious cases of experiences with content are sense experiences of the kind normally involved in perception. We may describe such experiences by mentioning their sensory modalities ad their contents, e.g., a gustatory experience (modality) of chocolate ice cream (content), but do so more commonly by means of perceptual verbs combined with noun phrases specifying their contents, as in ‘Macbeth saw a dagger’. This is, however, ambiguous between the perceptual claim ‘There was a (material) dagger in the world that Macbeth perceived visually’ and ‘Macbeth had a visual experience of a dagger’ (the reading with which we are concerned, as it is afforded by our imagination, or perhaps, experiencing mentally hallucinogenic imagery).
As in the case of other mental states and events with content, it is important to distinguish between the properties that and experience ‘represents’ and the properties that it ‘possesses’. To talk of the representational properties of an experience is to say something about its content, not to attribute those properties to the experience itself. Like every other experience, a visual; experience of a non-shaped square, of which is a mental event, and it is therefore not itself either irregular or is it square, even though it represents those properties. It is, perhaps, fleeting, pleasant or unusual, even though it does not represent those properties. An experience may represent a property that it possesses, and it may even do so in virtue of a rapidly changing (complex) experience representing something as changing rapidly. However, this is the exception and not the rule.
Which properties can be [directly] represented in sense experience is subject to debate. Traditionalists include only properties whose presence could not be doubted by a subject having appropriate experiences, e.g., colour and shape in the case of visual experience, and apparent shape, surface texture, hardness, etc., in the case of tactile experience. This view is natural to anyone who has an egocentric, Cartesian perspective in epistemology, and who wishes for pure data in experiences to serve as logically certain foundations for knowledge, especially to the immediate objects of perceptual awareness in or of sense-data, such categorized of colour patches and shapes, which are usually supposed distinct from surfaces of physical objectivity. Qualities of sense-data are supposed to be distinct from physical qualities because their perception is more relative to conditions, more certain, and more immediate, and because sense-data is private and cannot appear other than they are they are objects that change in our perceptual field when conditions of perception change. Physical objects remain constant.
Others who do not think that this wish can be satisfied, and who are more impressed with the role of experience in providing animisms with ecologically significant information about the world around them, claim that sense experiences represent properties, characteristic and kinds that are much richer and much more wide-ranging than the traditional sensory qualities. We do not see only colours and shapes, they tell ‘us’, but also earth, water, men, women and fire: We do not smell only odours, but also food and filth. There is no space here to examine the factors relevantly responsible to their choice of situational alternatives. Yet, this suggests that character and content are not really distinct, and there is a close tie between them. For one thing, the relative complexity of the character of sense experience places limitations upon its possible content, e.g., a tactile experience of something touching one’s left ear is just too simple to carry the same amount of content as typically convincing to an every day, visual experience. Moreover, the content of a sense experience of a given character depends on the normal causes of appropriately similar experiences, e.g., the sort of gustatory experience that we have when eating chocolate would be not represented as chocolate unless it was normally caused by chocolate. Granting a contingent ties between the character of an experience and its possible causal origins, once, again follows that its possible content is limited by its character.
Character and content are none the less irreducibly different, for the following reasons. (I) There are experiences that completely lack content, e.g., certain bodily pleasures. (ii) Not every aspect of the character of an experience with content is relevant to that content, e.g., the unpleasantness of an aural experience of chalk squeaking on a board may have no representational significance. (iii) Experiences in different modalities may overlap in content without a parallel overlap in character, e.g., visual and tactile experiences of circularity feel completely different. (iv) The content of an experience with a given character may vary according to the background of the subject, e.g., a certain content ‘singing bird’ only after the subject has learned something about birds.
According to the act/object analysis of experience (which is a special case of the act/object analysis of consciousness), every experience involves an object of experience even if it has no material object. Two main lines of argument may be offered in support of this view, one ‘phenomenological’ and the other ‘semantic’.
In an outline, the phenomenological argument is as follows. Whenever we have an experience, even if nothing beyond the experience answers to it, we seem to be presented with something through the experience (which is itself diaphanous). The object of the experience is whatever is so presented to ‘us’-is that it is an individual thing, an event, or a state of affairs.
The semantic argument is that objects of experience are required in order to make sense of certain features of our talk about experience, including, in particular, the following. (1) Simple attributions of experience, e.g., ‘Rod is experiencing an oddity that is not really square but in appearance it seems more than likely a square’, this seems to be relational. (2) We appear to refer to objects of experience and to attribute properties to them, e.g., ‘The afterimage that John experienced was certainly odd’. (3) We appear to quantify ov er objects of experience, e.g., ‘Macbeth saw something that his wife did not see’.
The act/object analysis faces several problems concerning the status of objects of experiences. Currently the most common view is that they are sense-data-private mental entities that actually posses the traditional sensory qualities represented by the experiences of which they are the objects. But the very idea of an essentially private entity is suspect. Moreover, since an experience may apparently represent something as having a determinable property, e.g., redness, without representing it as having any subordinate determinate property, e.g., any specific shade of red, a sense-datum may actually have a determinate property subordinate to it. Even more disturbing is that sense-data may have contradictory properties, since experiences can have contradictory contents. A case in point is the waterfall illusion: If you stare at a waterfall for a minute and then immediately fixate on a nearby rock, you are likely to have an experience of the rock’s moving upward while it remains in the same place. The sense-data theorist must either deny that there are such experiences or admit contradictory objects.
These problems can be avoided by treating objects of experience as properties. This, however, fails to do justice to the appearances, for experience seems not to present ‘us’ with properties embodied in individuals. The view that objects of experience is Meinongian objects accommodate this point. It is also attractive in as far as (1) it allows experiences to represent properties other than traditional sensory qualities, and (2) it allows for the identification of objects of experience and objects of perception in the case of experiences that constitute perception.
According to the act/object analysis of experience, every experience with content involves an object of experience to which the subject is related by an act of awareness (the event of experiencing that object). This is meant to apply not only to perceptions, which have material objects (whatever is perceived), but also to experiences like hallucinations and dream experiences, which do not. Such experiences nonetheless appear to represent something, and their objects are supposed to be whatever it is that they represent. Act/object theorists may differ on the nature of objects of experience, which have been treated as properties. Meinongian objects (which may not exist or have any form of being), and, more commonly private mental entities with sensory qualities. (The term ‘sense-data’ is now usually applied to the latter, but has also been used as a general term for objects of sense experiences, as in the work of G. E. Moore) Act/object theorists may also differ on the relationship between objects of experience and objects of perception. In terms of perception (of which we are ‘indirectly aware’) are always distinct from objects of experience (of which we are ‘directly aware’). Meinongian, however, may treat objects of perception as existing objects of experience. But sense-datum theorists must either deny that there are such experiences or admit contradictory objects. Still, most philosophers will feel that the Meinongian’s acceptance of impossible objects is too high a price to pay for these benefits.
A general problem for the act/object analysis is that the question of whether two subjects are experiencing one and the same thing (as opposed to having exactly similar experiences) appears to have an answer only on the assumption that the experiences concerned are perceptions with material objects. But in terms of the act/object analysis the question must have an answer even when this condition is not satisfied. (The answer is always negative on the sense-datum theory; it could be positive on other versions of the act/object analysis, depending on the facts of the case.)
In view of the above problems, the case for the act/object analysis should be reassessed. The phenomenological argument is not, on reflection, convincing, for it is easy enough to grant that any experience appears to present ‘us’ with an object without accepting that it actually does. The semantic argument is more impressive, but is none the less answerable. The seemingly relational structure of attributions of experience is a challenge dealt with below in connection with the adverbial theory. Apparent reference to and quantification over objects of experience can be handled by analysing them as reference to experiences themselves and quantification over experiences tacitly typed according to content. Thus, ‘The afterimage that John experienced was colourfully appealing’ becomes ‘John’s afterimage experience was an experience of colour’, and ‘Macbeth saw something that his wife did not see’ becomes ‘Macbeth had a visual experience that his wife did not have’.
Pure cognitivism attempts to avoid the problems facing the act/object analysis by reducing experiences to cognitive events or associated disposition, e.g., Susy’s experience of a rough surface beneath her hand might be identified with the event of her acquiring the belief that there is a rough surface beneath her hand, or, if she does not acquire this belief, with a disposition to acquire it that has somehow been blocked.
This position has attractions. It does full justice to the cognitive contents of experience, and to the important role of experience as a source of belief acquisition. It would also help clear the way for a naturalistic theory of mind, since there seems to be some prospect of a physicalist/functionalist account of belief and other intentional states. But pure cognitivism is completely undermined by its failure to accommodate the fact that experiences have a felt character that cannot be reduced to their content, as aforementioned.
The adverbial theory is an attempt to undermine the act/object analysis by suggesting a semantic account of attributions of experience that does not require objects of experience. Unfortunately, the oddities of explicit adverbializations of such statements have driven off potential supporters of the theory. Furthermore, the theory remains largely undeveloped, and attempted refutations have traded on this. It may, however, be founded on sound basis intuitions, and there is reason to believe that an effective development of the theory (which is merely hinting at) is possible.
The relevant intuitions are (1) that when we say that someone is experiencing ‘an A’, or has an experience ‘of an A’, we are using this content-expression to specify the type of thing that the experience is especially apt to fit, (2) that doing this is a matter of saying something about the experience itself (and maybe about the normal causes of like experiences), and (3) that it is no-good of reasons to posit of its position to presuppose that of any involvements, is that its descriptions of an object in which the experience is. Thus the effective role of the content-expression in a statement of experience is to modify the verb it compliments, not to introduce a special type of object.
Perhaps, the most important criticism of the adverbial theory is the ‘many property problem’, according to which the theory does not have the resources to distinguish between, e.g.,
(1) Frank has an experience of a brown triangle
and:
(2) Frank has an experience of brown and an experience of a triangle.
Which is entailed by (1) but does not entail it. The act/object analysis can easily accommodate the difference between (1) and (2) by claiming that the truth of (1) requires a single object of experience that is both brown and triangular, while that of the (2) allows for the possibility of two objects of experience, one brown and the other triangular, however, (1) is equivalent to:
(1*) Frank has an experience of something’s being both brown and triangular.
And (2) is equivalent to:
(2*) Frank has an experience of something’s being brown and an experience of something’s being triangular,
and the difference between these can be explained quite simply in terms of logical scope without invoking objects of experience. The adverbialists may use this to answer the many-property problem by arguing that the phrase ‘a brown triangle’ in (1) does the same work as the clause ‘something’s being both brown and triangular’ in (1*). This is perfectly compatible with the view that it also has the ‘adverbial’ function of modifying the verb ‘has an experience of’, for it specifies the experience more narrowly just by giving a necessary condition for the satisfaction of the experience (the condition being that there are something both brown and triangular before Frank).
A final position that should be mentioned is the state theory, according to which a sense experience of an ‘A’ is an occurrent, non-relational state of the kind that the subject would be in when perceiving an ‘A’. Suitably qualified, this claim is no doubt true, but its significance is subject to debate. Here it is enough to remark that the claim is compatible with both pure cognitivism and the adverbial theory, and that state theorists are probably best advised to adopt adverbials as a means of developing their intuitions.
Yet, clarifying sense-data, if taken literally, is that which is given by the senses. But in response to the question of what exactly is so given, sense-data theories posit private showings in the consciousness of the subject. In the case of vision this would be a kind of inner picture show which itself only indirectly represents aspects of the external world that has in and of itself a worldly representation. The view has been widely rejected as implying that we really only see extremely thin coloured pictures interposed between our mind’s eye and reality. Modern approaches to perception tend to reject any conception of the eye as a camera or lense, simply responsible for producing private images, and stress the active life of the subject in and of the world, as the determinant of experience.
Nevertheless, the argument from illusion is of itself the usually intended directive to establish that certain familiar facts about illusion disprove the theory of perception called naïevity or direct realism. There are, however, many different versions of the argument that must be distinguished carefully. Some of these distinctions centre on the content of the premises (the nature of the appeal to illusion); others centre on the interpretation of the conclusion (the kind of direct realism under attack). Let ‘us’ set about by distinguishing the importantly different versions of direct realism which one might take to be vulnerable to familiar facts about the possibility of perceptual illusion.
A crude statement of direct realism might go as follows. In perception, we sometimes directly perceive physical objects and their properties, we do not always perceive physical objects by perceiving something ‘else’, e.g., a sense-datum. There are, however, difficulties with this formulation of the view, as for one thing a great many philosophers who are ‘not’ direct realists would admit that it is a mistake to describe people as actually ‘perceiving’ something other than a physical object. In particular, such philosophers might admit, we should never say that we perceive sense-data. To talk that way would be to suppose that we should model our understanding of our relationship to sense-data on our understanding of the ordinary use of perceptual verbs as they describe our relation to and of the physical world, and that is the last thing paradigm sense-datum theorists should want. At least, many of the philosophers who objected to direct realism would prefer to express in what they were of objecting too in terms of a technical (and philosophically controversial) concept such as ‘acquaintance’. Using such a notion, we could define direct realism this way: In ‘veridical’ experience we are directly acquainted with parts, e.g., surfaces, or constituents of physical objects. A less cautious version of the view might drop the reference to veridical experience and claim simply that in all experience we are directly acquainted with parts or constituents of physical objects. The expressions ‘knowledge by acquaintance’ and ‘knowledge by description’, and the distinction they mark between knowing ‘things’ and knowing ‘about’ things, are generally associated with Bertrand Russell (1872-1970), that scientific philosophy required analysing many objects of belief as ‘logical constructions’ or ‘logical fictions’, and the programme of analysis that this inaugurated dominated the subsequent philosophy of logical atomism, and then of other philosophers, Russell’s “The Analysis of Mind,” the mind itself is treated in a fashion reminiscent of Hume, as no more than the collection of neutral perceptions or sense-data that make up the flux of conscious experience, and that looked at another way that also was to make up the external world (neutral monism), but “An Inquiry into Meaning and Truth” (1940) represents a more empirical approach to the problem. Yet, philosophers have perennially investigated this and related distinctions using varying terminology.
Distinction in our ways of knowing things, highlighted by Russell and forming a central element in his philosophy after the discovery of the theory of ‘definite descriptions’. A thing is known by acquaintance when there is direct experience of it. It is known by description if it can only be described as a thing with such-and-such properties. In everyday parlance, I might know my spouse and children by acquaintance, but know someone as ‘the first person born at sea’ only by description. However, for a variety of reasons Russell shrinks the area of things that can be known by acquaintance until eventually only current experience, perhaps my own self, and certain universals or meanings qualify anything else is known only as the thing that has such-and-such qualities.
Because one can interpret the relation of acquaintance or awareness as one that is not ‘epistemic’, i.e., not a kind of propositional knowledge, it is important to distinguish the above aforementioned views read as ontological theses from a view one might call ‘epistemological direct realism? In perception we are, on at least some occasions, non-inferentially justified in believing a proposition asserting the existence of a physical object. Since it is that these objects exist independently of any mind that might perceive them, and so it thereby rules out all forms of idealism and phenomenalism, which hold that there are no such independently existing objects. Its being to ‘direct’ realism rules out those views defended under the cubic of ‘critical naive realism’, or ‘representational realism’, in which there is some nonphysical intermediary -usually called a ‘sense-datum’ or a ‘sense impression’ -that must first be perceived or experienced in order to perceive the object that exists independently of this perception. Often the distinction between direct realism and other theories of perception is explained more fully in terms of what is ‘immediately’ perceived, than ‘mediately’ perceived. What relevance does illusion have for these two forms of direct realism?
The fundamental premise of the arguments is from illusion seems to be the theses that things can appear to be other than they are. Thus, for example, straight sticks when immerged in water looks bent, a penny when viewed from certain perspective appears as an illusory spatial elliptic circularity, when something that is yellow when place under red fluorescent light looks red. In all of these cases, one version of the argument goes, it is implausible to maintain that what we are directly acquainted with is the real nature of the object in question. Indeed, it is hard to see how we can be said to be aware of the really physical object at all. In the above illusions the things we were aware of actually were bent, elliptical and red, respectively. But, by hypothesis, the really physical objects lacked these properties. Thus, we were not aware of the substantial reality of been real as a physical objects or theory.
Some philosophers have argued that, at least for cases in which belief-in is synonymous with faith (or faith-in), evidential thresholds for constituent propositional beliefs are diminished. You may reasonably have faith in God or Mrs. Thatcher, even though beliefs about their respective attitudes, were you to harbour them, would be evidentially substandard.
Belief-in may be, in general, less susceptible to alternations in the face of unfavourable evidence than belief-that. A believer who encounters evidence against God’s existence may remain unshaken in his belief, in part because the evidence does not bear on his pro-attitude. So long as this is united with his belief that God exists, the belief may survive epistemic buffeting-and reasonably so in a way that an ordinary propositional belief-that would not.
At least two large sets of questions are properly treated under the heading of epistemological religious beliefs. First, there is a set of broadly theological questions about the relationship between faith and reason, between what one knows by way of reason, broadly construed, and what one knows by way of faith. These theological questions may as we call theological, because, of course, one will find them of interest only if one thinks that in fact there is such a thing as faith, and that we do know something by way of it. Secondly, there is a whole set of questions having to do with whether and to what degree religious beliefs have warrant, or justification, or positive epistemic status. The second, is seemingly as an important set of a theological question is yet spoken of faith.
Rumours about the death of epistemology began to circulate widely in the 1970s. Death notices appeared in such works as ‘Philosophy and Mirror of Nature’ (1979) by Richard Rorty and William’s ‘Groundless Belief’ (1977). Of late, the rumours seem to have died down, but whether they will prove to have been exaggerated remain to be seen.
Arguments for the death of epistemology typically pass through three stages. At the first stage, the critic characterizes the task of epistemology by identifying the distinctive sorts of questions it deals with. At the second stage, he tries to isolate the theoretical ideas that make those questions possible. Finally, he tries to undermine those ideas. His conclusion is that, since the ideas in question are less than compelling, there is no pressing need to solve the problems they give rise to. Thus the death-of-epistemology theorist holds that there is no barrier in principle to epistemology’s going the way of, demonology or judicial astrology. These disciplines too centred on questions that were once taken very seriously are indeed as their presuppositions came to seem dubious, debating their problems came to seem pointless. Furthermore, some theorists hold that philosophy, as a distinctive professionalized activity, revolve essentially around epistemological inquiry, so that speculation about the death of epistemology is apt to evolve into speculation about the death of philosophy generally.
Clearly, the death-of-epistemology theorists must hold that there is nothing special about philosophical problems. This is where philosophers who see little sense in talk of the death of epistemology disagree. For them, philosophical problems, including epistemological problems, are distinctive in that they are ‘natural’ or ‘intuitive’: That is to day, they can be posed and understood taking for granted little or nothing in the way of contentious, theoretical ideas. Thus, unlike problems belonging to the particular sciences, they are ‘perennial’ problems that could occur to more or less anyone, anytime and anywhere. But are the standard problems of epistemology really as ‘intuitive’ as all that? Or, if they have come to seem so commonsensical, is this only because commonsense is a repository for ancient theory? There are the sorts of question that underlie speculation about epistemology’s possible demise.
Because it revolves round questions like this, the death-of-epistemology movement is distinguished by its interest in what we may call ‘theoretical diagnosis’: Bringing to light the theoretical background to philosophical problems so as to argue that they cannot survive detachments from it. This explains the movement’s interest in historical-explanatory accounts of their emergence of philosophical problems. If certain problems can be shown not to be perennial, but rather to have emerged at a definite point in time, this is strongly suggestive of their dependence on some particular theoretical outlook, and if an account developed of the discipline centred on those problems, that is evidence e for its correctness. Still, the goal of theoretical diagnosis is to establish logical dependance, not just historical correlation. So, although historical investigation into the roots and development of epistemology can provide valuable clues to the ideas that inform its problems, history cannot substitute for problem-analysis.
The death-of-epistemology m0venent has many sources: In the pragmatics, particularly James and Dewey, and in the writings of Wittgenstein, Quine, Sellars and Austin. But the project of theoretical diagnosis must be distinguished from the ‘therapeutic’ approach to philosophical problems that some names on this list might call to mind. The practitioner of theoretical diagnosis does not claim that the problems he analyses are ‘pseudo-problems’, rooted in ‘conceptual confusion’. Rather, he claims that, while genuine, they are wholly internal to a particular intellectual project whose generally unacknowledged theoretical commitments he aims to isolate and criticize.
Turning to details, the task of epistemology, as these radical critics conceive it, is to determine the nature, scope and limits that the very possibility of human knowledge. Since epistemology determines the extent, to which knowledge is possible, it cannot itself take for empirical inquiry. Thus, epistemology purports to be a non-empirical discipline, the function of which is to sit in judgement on all particular discursive practices with a view to determining their cognitive status. The epistemologist or, in the era of epistemologically-centred philosophy, we might as well say ‘the philosopher’) is someone processionally equipped to determine what forms of judgements are ‘ scientific’, ‘rational’, ‘merely expressive, and so on. Epistemology is therefore fundamentally concerned with sceptical questions. Determining the scope and limits of human knowledge is a matter of showing where and when knowledge is possible. But there is a project called ‘showing that knowledge is possible’ only because there are powerful arguments for the view that knowledge is impossible. Here the scepticism in question is first and foremost radical scepticism, the thesis that with respect to this or that area of putative knowledge we are never so much as justified in believing one thing than another. The task of epistemology is thus to determine the extent to which it s possible to respond to challenges posed by radically sceptical arguments by determining where we can and cannot have justifications for our beliefs. If it turns out that the prospects are more hopeful for some sorts beliefs than for others, we will have uncovered a difference in epistemological status. The ‘scope and limits’ question and problems of radical scepticism are two sides of one coin.
This emphasis on scepticism as the fundamental problem of epistemology may strike philosophers as misguided. Much recent work on the concept of knowledge, particularly that inspired by Gettier’s demonstration of the insufficiency of the standards of ‘justified true belief’ analysis, has been carried on independently on any immediate concern with scepticism. I think it must be admitted that philosophers who envisage the death off epistemology tend to assume a somewhat dismissive attitude to work of this kind. In part, this is because they tend to be dubious about the possibility of stating precise necessary and sufficient conditions for the application of any concern. But the determining factor is their though that only the centrality of the problem of radical scepticism can explain the importance for philosophy that, at least in the modern period, epistemology has take n on. Since radical scepticism concerns the very possibility, of justification, the philosophers who put this problem first, question about what special sorts of justification yield knowledge, or about whether knowledge might be explained in non-justificational terms, are of secondary importance. Whatever importance they have will have to derive in the end from connections, if any, with sceptical problems.
In light of this, the fundamental question for death-of-epistemology theorists becomes, ‘What are the essential theatrical presuppositions of argument for radical scepticism?’ Different theorists suggest different answers. Rorty traces scepticism to the ‘representationalists ‘ conception of belief and its close ally, the correspondence theory of truth with non-independent ‘reality’ (mind as the mirror of nature), we will to assure ourselves that the proper alignment has been achieved. In Rorty’s view, by switching to more ‘pragmatic’ or ‘behaviouristic’ conception of beliefs as devices for coping with particular, concrete problems, we can put scepticism, hence the philosophical discipline that revolves around in, behind us once and for all.
Other theorists stress epistemological Foundationalism as the essential back-ground to traditional sceptic problems. There reason for preferring this approach, arguments for epistemological conclusions require at least one epistemological premiss. It is, therefore, not easy to see how metaphysical or semantic doctrines of the sort emphasized by Rorty could, by themselves, generate epistemological problems, such cases as radical scepticism. On the other hand, on cases for scepticism’s essential dependence on foundationalist preconceptions I s by no means easy to make. It has even been argued that this approach ‘gets things almost entirely upside down’. The thought is that foundationalism is an attempt to save knowledge from the sceptic, and is therefore a reaction to, than a presupposition of, the deepest and most intuitive arguments for scepticism. Challenges like this certainly needs to be met by death-of-epistemology theorists, who have sometimes been too ready to take for obvious scepticism’s dependance on foundationalist or other theoretical ideas. This reflects, perhaps, the dangers of taking one’s cue from historical accounts of the development of sceptical problems. It may be that, in the heyday of foundationalism, sceptical arguments were typically presented within a foundationalist content. But the crucial questions do take foundationalism for granted but whether there are in any that do not . This issue-is the general issue of whether skepticism is a truly intuitive problem -can only be resolved by detailed analysis of the possibilities and resources of sceptical argumentation.
Another question concerns why anti-foundationalist leads to the death of epistemology than a non-foundational, hence Coherentists, approach to knowledge and justification. It is true that death-of-epistemology theorists often characterize justification in terms of coherence. But their intention is to make a negative point. According to foundationalism, our beliefs fall naturally into broad epistemological categories that reflect objective, context-independent relations of epistemological priority. Thus, for example, experiential beliefs are thought to be naturally or intrinsically prior to beliefs about the external world, in the sense that any evidence we have for the latter must derive in the end from the former. This relation epistemology priority is, so to say, just a fact, foundationalism is therefore committed to a strong form of Realism about epistemological facts and relations, calls it ‘epistemological realism’. For some anti-foundationalist’s, talk of coherence is just a way of rejecting this picture in favour of the view that justification is a matter of accommodating new beliefs to relevant back-ground beliefs in contextually appropriate ways, there being no context-independent, purely epistemological restrictions on what sorts of beliefs can confer evidence on what others. If this is all that is meant, talk of coherence does not point to a theory of justification so much as to the deflationary view that justification is not the sort of thing we should expect to have theories about, there is, however, a stronger sense of 'coherence' which does point in the direction of a genuine theory. This is the radically holistic account of justification, according to which inference depends on assessing our entire belief-system or total view, in the light of abstract criteria of ‘coherence’. But it is questionable whether this view, which seems to demand privileged knowledge of what we believe, is an alternative to foundationalism or just a variant form. Accordingly, it is possible that a truly uncompromising anti-foundationalist will prove as hostile to traditional coherence theories as too standard foundationalist positions, reinforcing the connection between the rejection of foundationalism and the death of epistemology.
The death-of-epistemology movement has some affinities with the call for a ‘naturalized’ approach to knowledge. Quine argues that the time has come for us to abandon such traditional projects as refuting the sceptic showing how empirical knowledge can be rationally reconstructed on a sensory basis, hence justifying empirical knowledge at large. We should concentrate instead on the more tractable problem of explaining how we ‘project our physics from our data’, i.e., how retinal stimulations cause us to respond with increasingly complex sentence s about events in our environment. Epistemology should be transformed into a branch of natural science, specifically experimental psychology. But though Quine presents this as a suggestion about how to continued doing epistemology, to philosophers how think that the traditional questions still lack satisfactory answers, it looks more like abandoning epistemology in favour of another pursuit entirely. It is significant therefore, which in subsequent writings Quine has been less dismissive of sceptical concerns. But if this is how ‘naturalized’ epistemology develops, then for the death-of-epistemology theorists, its claim will open up a new field for theoretical diagnosis.
Epistemology, is, so we are told, a theory of knowledge: Of course, its aim is to discern and explain that quality or quantity enough of which distinguishes knowledge from mere true belief. We need a name for this quality or quantity, whatever precisely it is, call it ‘warrant’. From this point of view, the epistemology of religious belief should centre on the question whether religious belief has warrant, an if it does, hoe much it has and how it gets it. As a matter of fact, however, epistemological discussion of religious belief, at least since the Enlightenment (and in the Western world, especially the English-speaking Western world) has tended to focus, not on the question whether religious belief has warrant, but whether it is justified. More precisely, it has tended to focus on the question whether those properties manifested by theistic belief -the belief that there exists a person like the God of traditional Christianity, Judaism and Islam: An almighty Law Maker, or an all-knowing and most wholly benevolent and a loving spiritual person who has created the living world. The chief question, therefore, has ben whether theistic belief is justified, the same question is often put by asking whether theistic belief is rational or rationally acceptable. Still further, the typical way of addressing this question has been by way of discussing arguments for or and against the existence of God. On the pro side, there are the traditional theistic proofs or arguments: The ontological, cosmological and teleological arguments, using Kant’s terms for them. On the other side, the anti-theistic side, the principal argument is the argument from evil, the argument that is not possible or at least probable that there be such a person as God, given all the pain, suffering and evil the world displays. This argument is flanked by subsidiary arguments, such as the claim that the very concept of God is incoherent, because, for example, it is impossible that there are the people without a body, and Freudian and Marxist claims that religious belief arises out of a sort of magnification and projection into the heavens of human attributes we think important.
But why has discussion centred on justification rather than warrant? And precisely what is justification? And why has the discussion of justification of theistic belief focussed so heavily on arguments for and against the existence of God?
As to the first question, we can see why once we see that the dominant epistemological tradition in modern Western philosophy has tended to ‘identify’ warrant with justification. On this way of looking at the matter, warrant, that which distinguishes knowledge from mere true belief, just ‘is’ justification. Belief theory of knowledge-the theory according to which knowledge is justified true belief has enjoyed the status of orthodoxy. According to this view, knowledge is justified truer belief, therefore any of your beliefs have warrant for you if and only if you are justified in holding it.
But what is justification? What is it to be justified in holding a belief? To get a proper sense of the answer, we must turn to those twin towers of western epistemology. René Descartes and especially, John Locke. The first thing to see is that according to Descartes and Locke, there are epistemic or intellectual duties, or obligations, or requirements. Thus, Locke:
Faith is nothing but a firm assent of the mind, which if it is regulated, A is our duty, cannot be afforded to anything, but upon good reason: And cannot be opposite to it, he that believes, without having any reason for believing, may be in love with his own fanciers: But, neither seeks truth as he ought, nor pats the obedience due his maker, which would have him use those discerning faculties he has given him: “To keep him out of mistake and error. He that does this to the best of his power, however, he sometimes lights on truth, is in the right but by chance: And I know not whether the luckiest of the accidents will excuse the irregularity of his proceeding. This, at least is certain, that he must be accountable for whatever mistakes he runs into: Whereas, he that makes use of the light and faculties God has given him, by seeks sincerely to discover truth, by those helps and abilities he has, may have this satisfaction in doing his duty as a rational creature, that though he should miss truth, he will not miss the reward of it. For he governs his assent right, and places it as he should, who in any case or matter whatsoever, believes or disbelieves, according as reason directs him. He otherwise do that, transgresses against his own light, and misuses those faculties, which were given him . . . “ (Essays 4.17.24).
Rational creatures, creatures with reason, creatures capable of believing propositions (and of disbelieving and being agnostic with respect to them), say Locke, have duties and obligation with respect to the regulation of their belief or assent. Now the central core of the notion of justification(as the etymology of the term indicates) this: One is justified in doing something or in believing a certain way, if in doing one is innocent of wrong doing and hence not properly subject to blame or censure. You are justified, therefore, if you have violated no duties or obligations, if you have conformed to the relevant requirements, if you are within your rights. To be justified in believing something, then, is to be within your rights in so believing, to be flouting no duty, to be to satisfy your epistemic duties and obligations. This way of thinking of justification has been the dominant way of thinking about justification: And this way of thinking has many important contemporary representatives. Roderick Chisholm, for example (as distinguished an epistemologist as the twentieth century can boast), in his earlier work explicitly explains justification in terms of epistemic duty (Chisholm, 1977).
The (or, a) main epistemological; questions about religious believe, therefore, has been the question whether or not religious belief in general and theistic belief in particular is justified. And the traditional way to answer that question has been to inquire into the arguments for and against theism. Why this emphasis upon these arguments? An argument is a way of marshalling your propositional evidence-the evidence from other such propositions as likens to believe-for or against a given proposition. And the reason for the emphasis upon argument is the assumption that theistic belief is justified if and only if there is sufficient propositional evidence for it. If there is not’ much by way of propositional evidence for theism, then you are not justified in accepting it. Moreover, if you accept theistic belief without having propositional evidence for it, then you are ging contrary to epistemic duty and are therefore unjustified in accepting it. Thus, W.K. William James, trumpets that ‘it is wrong, always everything upon insufficient evidence’, his is only the most strident in a vast chorus of only insisting that there is an intellectual duty not to believe in God unless you have propositional evidence for that belief. (A few others in the choir: Sigmund Freud, Brand Blanshard, H.H. Price, Bertrand Russell and Michael Scriven.)
Now how it is that the justification of theistic belief gets identified with there being propositional evidence for it? Justification is a matter of being blameless, of having done one’s duty (in this context, one’s epistemic duty): What, precisely, has this to do with having propositional evidence?
The answer, once, again, is to be found in Descartes especially Locke. As, justification is the property your beliefs have when, in forming and holding them, you conform to your epistemic duties and obligations. But according to Locke, a central epistemic duty is this: To believe a proposition only to the degree that it is probable with respect to what is certain for you. What propositions are certain for you? First, according to Descartes and Locke, propositions about your own immediate experience, that you have a mild headache, or that it seems to you that you see something red: And second, propositions that are self-evident for you, necessarily true propositions so obvious that you cannot so much as entertain them without seeing that they must be true. (Examples would be simple arithmetical and logical propositions, together with such propositions as that the whole is at least as large as the parts, that red is a colour, and that whatever exists has properties.) Propositions of these two sorts are certain for you, as fort other prepositions. You are justified in believing if and only if when one and only to the degree to which it is probable with respect to what is certain for you. According to Locke, therefore, and according to the whole modern foundationalist tradition initiated by Locke and Descartes (a tradition that until has recently dominated Western thinking about these topics) there is a duty not to accept a proposition unless it is certain or probable with respect to what is certain.
In the present context, therefore, the central Lockean assumption is that there is an epistemic duty not to accept theistic belief unless it is probable with respect to what is certain for you: As a consequence, theistic belief is justified only if the existence of God is probable with respect to what is certain. Locke does not argue for his proposition, he simply announces it, and epistemological discussion of theistic belief has for the most part followed hin ion making this assumption. This enables ‘us’ to see why epistemological discussion of theistic belief has tended to focus on the arguments for and against theism: On the view in question, theistic belief is justified only if it is probable with respect to what is certain, and the way to show that it is probable with respect to what it is certain are to give arguments for it from premises that are certain or, are sufficiently probable with respect to what is certain.
There are at least three important problems with this approach to the epistemology of theistic belief. First, there standards for theistic arguments have traditionally been set absurdly high (and perhaps, part of the responsibility for this must be laid as the door of some who have offered these arguments and claimed that they constitute wholly demonstrative proofs). The idea seems to test. a good theistic argument must start from what is self-evident and proceed majestically by way of self-evidently valid argument forms to its conclusion. It is no wonder that few if any theistic arguments meet that lofty standard -particularly, in view of the fact that almost no philosophical arguments of any sort meet it. (Think of your favourite philosophical argument: Does it really start from premisses that are self-evident and move by ways of self-evident argument forms to its conclusion?)
Secondly, attention has ben mostly confined to three theistic arguments: The traditional arguments, cosmological and teleological arguments, but in fact, there are many more good arguments: Arguments from the nature of proper function, and from the nature of propositions, numbers and sets. These are arguments from intentionality, from counterfactual, from the confluence of epistemic reliability with epistemic justification, from reference, simplicity, intuition and love. There are arguments from colours and flavours, from miracles, play and enjoyment, morality, from beauty and from the meaning of life. This is even a theistic argument from the existence of evil.
But there are a third and deeper problems here. The basic assumption is that theistic belief is justified only if it is or can be shown as the probable respect to many a body of evidence or proposition -perhaps, those that are self-evident or about one’s own mental life, but is this assumption true? The idea is that theistic belief is very much like a scientific hypothesis: It is acceptable if and only if there is an appropriate balance of propositional evidence in favour of it. But why believe a thing like that? Perhaps the theory of relativity or the theory of evolution is like that, such a theory has been devised to explain the phenomena and gets all its warrant from its success in so doing. However, other beliefs, e.g., memory beliefs, felt in other minds is not like that, they are not hypothetical at all, and are not accepted because of their explanatory powers. There are instead, the propositions from which one start in attempting to give evidence for a hypothesis. Now, why assume that theistic belief, belief in God, is in this regard more like a scientific hypothesis than like, say, a memory belief? Why think that the justification of theistic belief depends upon the evidential relation of theistic belief to other things one believes? According to Locke and the beginnings of this tradition, it is because there is a duty not to assent to a proposition unless it is probable with respect to what is certain to you, but is there really any such duty? No one has succeeded in showing that, say, belief in other minds or the belief that there has been a past, is probable with respect to what is certain for ‘us’. Suppose it is not: Does it follow that you are living in epistemic sin if you believe that there are other minds? Or a past?
There are urgent questions about any view according to which one has duties of the sort ‘do not believe ‘p’ unless it is probable with respect to what is certain for you; . First, if this is a duty, is it one to which I can conform? My beliefs are for the most part not within my control: Certainly they are not within my direct control. I believe that there has been a past and that there are other people, even if these beliefs are not probable with respect to what is certain forms (and even if I came to know this) I could not give them up. Whether or not I accept such beliefs are not really up to me at all, For I can no more refrain from believing these things than I can refrain from conforming yo the law of gravity. Second, is there really any reason for thinking I have such a duty? Nearly everyone recognizes such duties as that of not engaging in gratuitous cruelty, taking care of one’s children and one’s aged parents, and the like, but do we also find ourselves recognizing that there is a duty not to believe what is not probable (or, what we cannot see to be probable) with respect to what are certain for ‘us’? It hardly seems so. However, it is hard to see why being justified in believing in God requires that the existence of God be probable with respect to some such body of evidence as the set of propositions certain for you. Perhaps, theistic belief is properly basic, i.e., such that one is perfectly justified in accepting it on the evidential basis of other propositions one believes.
Taking justification in that original etymological fashion, therefore, there is every reason ton doubt that one is justified in holding theistic belief only inf one is justified in holding theistic belief only if one has evidence for it. Of course, the term ‘justification’ has underdone various analogical extensions in the of various philosophers, it has been used to name various properties that are different from justification etymologically so-called, but anagogically related to it. In such a way, the term sometimes used to mean propositional evidence: To say that a belief is justified for someone is to saying that he has propositional evidence (or sufficient propositional evidence) for it. So taken, however, the question whether theistic belief is justified loses some of its interest; for it is not clear (given this use) beliefs that are unjustified in that sense. Perhaps, one also does not have propositional evidence for one’s memory beliefs, if so, that would not be a mark against them and would not suggest that there be something wrong holding them.
Another analogically connected way to think about justification (a way to think about justification by the later Chisholm) is to think of it as simply a relation of fitting between a given proposition and one’s epistemic vase -which includes the other things one believes, as well as one’s experience. Perhaps tat is the way justification is to be thought of, but then, if it is no longer at all obvious that theistic belief has this property of justification if it seems as a probability with respect to many another body of evidence. Perhaps, again, it is like memory beliefs in this regard.
To recapitulate: The dominant Western tradition has been inclined to identify warrant with justification, it has been inclined to take the latter in terms of duty and the fulfilment of obligation, and hence to suppose that there is no epistemic duty not to believe in God unless you have good propositional evidence for the existence of God. Epistemological discussion of theistic belief, as a consequence, as concentrated on the propositional evidence for and against theistic belief, i.e., on arguments for and against theistic belief. But there is excellent reason to doubt that there are epistemic duties of the sort the tradition appeals to here.
And perhaps it was a mistake to identify warrant with justification in the first place. Napoleons have little warrant for him: His problem, however, need not be dereliction of epistemic duty. He is in difficulty, but it is not or necessarily that of failing to fulfill epistemic duty. He may be doing his epistemic best, but he may be doing his epistemic duty in excelsis: But his madness prevents his beliefs from having much by way of warrant. His lack of warrant is not a matter of being unjustified, i.e., failing to fulfill epistemic duty. So warrant and being epistemologically justified by name are not the same things. Another example, suppose (to use the favourite twentieth-century variant of Descartes’ evil demon example) I have been captured by Alpha-Centaurian super-scientists, running a cognitive experiment, they remove my brain, and keep it alive in some artificial nutrients, and by virtue of their advanced technology induce in me the beliefs I might otherwise have if I were going about my usual business. Then my beliefs would not have much by way of warrant, but would it be because I was failing to do my epistemic duty? Hardly.
As a result of these and other problems, another, externalist way of thinking about knowledge has appeared in recent epistemology, that a theory of justification is internalized if and only if it requires that all of its factors needed for a belief to be epistemically accessible to that of a person, internal to his cognitive perception, and externalist, if it allows that, at least some of the justifying factors need not be thus accessible, in that they can be external to the believer’ s cognitive Perspectives, beyond his ken. However, epistemologists often use the distinction between internalized and externalist theories of epistemic justification without offering any very explicit explanation.
Or perhaps the thing to say, is that it has reappeared, for the dominant sprains in epistemology priori to the Enlightenment were really externalist. According to this externalist way of thinking, warrant does not depend upon satisfaction of duty, or upon anything else to which the Knower has special cognitive access (as he does to what is about his own experience and to whether he is trying his best to do his epistemic duty): It depends instead upon factors ‘external’ to the epistemic agent -such factors as whether his beliefs are produced by reliable cognitive mechanisms, or whether they are produced by epistemic faculties functioning properly in-an appropriate epistemic environment.
How will we think about the epistemology of theistic belief in more than is less of an externalist way (which is at once both satisfyingly traditional and agreeably up to date)? I think, that the ontological question whether there is such a person as God is in a way priori to the epistemological question about the warrant of theistic belief. It is natural to think that if in fact we have been created by God, then the cognitive processes that issue in belief in God are indeed realisable belief-producing processes, and if in fact God created ‘us’, then no doubt the cognitive faculties that produce belief in God is functioning properly in an epistemologically congenial environment. On the other hand, if there is no such person as God, if theistic belief is an illusion of some sort, then things are much less clear. Then beliefs in God in of the most of basic ways of wishing that never doubt the production by which unrealistic thinking or another cognitive process not aimed at truth. Thus, it will have little or no warrant. And belief in God on the basis of argument would be like belief in false philosophical theories on the basis of argument: Do such beliefs have warrant? Notwithstanding, the custom of discussing the epistemological questions about theistic belief as if they could be profitably discussed independently of the ontological issue as to whether or not theism is true, is misguided. There two issues are intimately intertwined,
Nonetheless, the vacancy left, as today and as days before are an awakening and untold story beginning by some sparking conscious paradigm left by science. That is a central idea by virtue accredited by its epistemology, where in fact, is that justification and knowledge arising from the proper functioning of our intellectual virtues or faculties in an appropriate environment. This particular yet, peculiar idea is captured in the following criterion for justified belief:
(J) ‘S’ is justified in believing that ‘p’ if and only if of S’s believing that ‘p’ is the result of S’s intellectual virtues or faculties functioning in appropriate environment.
What is an intellectual virtue or faculty? A virtue or faculty in general is a power or ability or competence to achieve some result. An intellectual virtue or faculty, in the sense intended above, is a power or ability or competence to arrive at truths in a particular field, and to avoid believing falsehoods in that field. Examples of human intellectual virtues are sight, hearing, introspection, memory, deduction and induction. More exactly.
(V) A mechanism ‘M’ for generating and/or maintaining beliefs is an intellectual virtue if and only if ‘M’‘s’ is a competence to believing true propositions and refrain from false believing propositions within a field of propositions ‘F’, when one is in a set of circumstances ‘C’.
It is required that we specify a particular field of suggestions or its propositional field for ‘M’, since a given cognitive mechanism will be a competence for believing some kind of truths but not others. The faculty of sight, for example, allows ‘us’ to determine the colour of objects, but not the sounds that they associatively make. It is also required that we specify a set of circumstances for ‘M’, since a given cognitive mechanism will be a competence in some circumstances but not others. For example, the faculty of sight allows ‘us’ to determine colours in a well lighten room, but not in a darkened cave or formidable abyss.
According to the aforementioned formulations, what makes a cognitive mechanism an intellectual virtue is that it is reliable in generating true beliefs than false beliefs in the relevant field and in the relevant circumstances. It is correct to say, therefore, that virtue epistemology is a kind of reliabilism. Whereas, genetic reliabilism maintains that justified belief is belief that results from a reliable cognitive process, virtue epistemology makes a restriction on the kind of process which is allowed. Namely, the cognitive processes that are important for justification and knowledge is those that have their basis in an intellectual virtue.
Finally, that the concerning mental faculty reliability point to the importance of an appropriate environment. The idea is that cognitive mechanisms might be reliable in some environments but not in others. Consider an example from Alvin Plantinga. On a planet revolving around Alfa Centauri, cats are invisible to human beings. Moreover, Alfa Centaurian cats emit a type of radiation that causes humans to form the belief that there I a dog barking nearby. Suppose now that you are transported to this Alfa Centaurian planet, a cat walks by, and you form the belief that there is a dog barking nearby. Surely you are not justified in believing this. However, the problem here is not with your intellectual faculties, but with your environment. Although your faculties of perception are reliable on earth, yet are unrealisable on the Alga Centaurian planet, which is an inappropriate environment for those faculties.
The central idea of virtue epistemology, as expressed in (J) above, has a high degree of initial plausibility. By masking the idea of faculties’ cental to the reliability if not by the virtue of epistemology, in that it explains quite neatly to why beliefs are caused by perception and memories are often justified, while beliefs caused by unrealistic and superstition are not. Secondly, the theory gives ‘us’ a basis for answering certain kinds of scepticism. Specifically, we may agree that if we were brains in a vat, or victims of a Cartesian demon, then we would not have knowledge even in those rare cases where our beliefs turned out true. But virtue epistemology explains that what is important for knowledge is toast our faculties are in fact reliable in the environment in which we are. And so we do have knowledge so long as we are in fact, not victims of a Cartesian demon, or brains in a vat. Finally, Plantinga argues that virtue epistemology deals well with Gettier problems. The idea is that Gettier problems give ‘us’ cases of justified belief that is ‘truer by accident’. Virtue epistemology, Plantinga argues, helps ‘us’ to understand what it means for a belief to be true by accident, and provides a basis for saying why such cases are not knowledge. Beliefs are rue by accident when they are caused by otherwise reliable faculties functioning in an inappropriate environment. Plantinga develops this line of reasoning in Plantinga (1988).
But although virtue epistemology has god initial plausibility, it faces some substantial objections. The first of an objection, which virtue epistemology face is a version of the generality problem. We may understand the problem more clearly if we were to consider the following criterion for justified belief, which results from our explanation of (J).
(J ʹ) ‘S’ is justified in believing that ‘p’ if and entirely if.
(A) there is a field ‘F’ and a set of circumstances ‘C’ such that
(1) ‘S’ is in ‘C’ with respect to the proposition that ‘p’,
(2) ‘S’ is in ‘C’ with respect to the proposition that ‘p’,
(3) If ‘S’ were in ‘C’ with respect to a proposition in ‘F’.
Then ‘S’ would very likely believe correctly with regard
to that proposition.
The problem arises in how we are to select an appropriate ‘F’ and ‘C’. For given any true belief that ‘p’, we can always come up with a field ‘F’ and a set of circumstances ‘C’, such that ‘S’ is perfectly reliable in ‘F’ and ‘C’. For any true belief that ‘p’, let ‘F’s’ be the field including only the propositions ‘p’ and ‘not-p’. Let ‘C’ include whatever circumstances there are which causes ‘p’s’ to be true, together with the circumstanced which causes ‘S’ to believe that ‘p’. Clearly, ‘S’ is perfectly reliable with respect to propositions in this field in these circumstances. But we do not want to say that all of S’s true beliefs are justified for ‘S’. And of course, there is an analogous problem in the other direction of generality. For given any belief that ‘p’, we can always specify a field of propositions ‘F’ and a set of circumstances ‘C’, such that ‘p’ is in ‘F’, ‘S’ is in ‘C’, and ‘S’ is not reliable with respect to propositions in ‘F’ in ‘C’.
Variations of this view have been advanced for both knowledge and justified belief. The first formulation of a reliability account of knowing appeared in a note by F.P. Ramsey (1931), who said that a belief was knowledge if it is true, certain and obtained by a reliable process. P. Unger (1968) suggested that ‘S’ knows that ‘p’ just in case it is not at all accidental that ‘S’ is right about its being the case that ‘p’. D.M. Armstrong (1973) drew an analogy between a thermometer that reliably indicates the temperature and a belief that reliably indicate the truth. Armstrong said that a non-inferential belief qualified as knowledge if the belief has properties that are nominally sufficient for its truth, i.e., guarantee its truth via laws of nature.
Closely allied to the nomic sufficiency account of knowledge, primarily due to F.I. Dretske (1981), A.I. Goldman (1976, 1986) and R. Nozick (1981). The core of tis approach is that S’s belief that ‘p’ qualifies as knowledge just in case ‘S’ believes ‘p’ because of reasons that would not obtain unless ‘p’s’ being true, or because of a process or method that would not yield belief in ‘p’ if ‘p’ were not true. For example, ‘S’ would not have his current reasons for believing there is a telephone before him, or would not come to believe this, unless there was a telephone before him. Thus, there is a counterfactual reliable guarantor of the belief’s being true. A variant of the counterfactual approach says that ‘S’ knows that ‘p’ only if there is no ‘relevant alterative’ situation in which ‘p’ is false but ‘S’ would still believe that ‘p’.
To a better understanding, this interpretation is to mean that the alterative attempt to accommodate any of an opposing strand in our thinking about knowledge one interpretation is an absolute concept, which is to mean that the justification or evidence one must have in order to know a proposition ‘p’ must be sufficient to eliminate all the alternatives to ‘p’ (where an alternative to a proposition ‘p’ is a proposition incompatible with ‘p’). That is, one’s justification or evidence for ‘p’ must be sufficient fort one to know that every alternative to ‘p’ is false. These elements of our thinking about knowledge are exploited by sceptical argument. These arguments call our attention to alternatives that our evidence cannot eliminate. For example, (Dretske, 1970), when we are at the zoo. We might claim to know that we see a zebra on the basis of certain visual evidence, namely a zebra-like appearance. The sceptic inquires how we know that we are not seeing a clearly disguised mule. While we do have some evidence against the likelihood of such a deception, intuitively it is not strong enough for ‘us’ to know that we are not so deceived. By pointing out alternatives of this nature that cannot eliminate, as well as others with more general application (dreams, hallucinations, etc.), the sceptic appears to show that this requirement that our evidence eliminate every alternative is seldom, if ever, met.
The above considerations show that virtue epistemology must say more about the selection of relevant fields and sets of circumstances. Established addresses the generality problem by introducing the concept of a design plan for our intellectual faculties. Relevant specifications for fields and sets of circumstances are determined by this plan. One might object that this approach requires the problematic assumption of a Designer of the design plan. But Plantinga disagrees on two counts: He does not think that the assumption is needed, or that it would be problematic. Plantinga discusses relevant material in Plantinga (1986, 1987 and 1988). Ernest Sosa addresses the generality problem by introducing the concept of an epistemic perspective. In order to have reflective knowledge, ‘S’ must have a true grasp of the reliability of her faculties, this grasp being itself provided by a ‘faculty of faculties’. Relevant specifications of an ‘F’ and ‘C’ are determined by this perspective. Alternatively, Sosa has suggested that relevant specifications are determined by the purposes of the epistemic community. The idea is that fields and sets of circumstances are determined by their place in useful generalizations about epistemic agents and their abilities to act as reliable-information sharers.
The second objection which virtue epistemology faces are that (J) and
(Jʹ) are too strong. It is possible for ‘S’ to be justified in believing that ‘p’, even when ‘S’s’ intellectual faculties are largely unreliable. Suppose, for example, that Jane’s beliefs about the world around her are true. It is clear that in this case Jane’s faculties of perception are almost wholly unreliable. But we would not want to say that none of Jane’s perceptual beliefs are justified. If Jane believes that there is a tree in her yard, and she vases the belief on the usual tree-like experience, then it seems that she is as justified as we would be regarded a substitutable belief.
Sosa addresses the current problem by arguing that justification is relative to an environment ‘E’. Accordingly, ‘S’ is justified in believing that ‘p’ relative to ‘E’, if and only if ‘S’s’ faculties would be reliable in ‘E’. Note that on this account, ‘S’ need not actually be in ‘E’ in order for ‘S’ to be justified in believing some proposition relative to ‘E’. This allows Soda to conclude that Jane has justified belief in the above case. For Jane is justified in her perceptual beliefs relative to our environment, although she is not justified in those beliefs relative to the environment in which they have actualized her.
We have earlier made mention about analyticity, but the true story of analyticity is surprising in many ways. Contrary to received opinion, it was the empiricist Locke rather than the rationalist Kant who had the better information account of this type or deductive proposition. Frége and Rudolf Carnap (1891-1970) A German logician positivist whose first major works was “Der logische Aufbau der Welt” (1926, trs, as “The Logical Structure of the World,” 1967). Carnap pursued the enterprise of clarifying the structures of mathematics and scientific language (the only legitimate task for scientific philosophy) in “The Logical Syntax of Language,” (1937). Yet, refinements continued with “Meaning and Necessity” (1947), while a general losing of the original ideal of reduction culminated in the great “Logical Foundations of Probability” and the most importantly single work of ‘confirmation theory’ in 1950. Other works concern the structure of physics and the concept of entropy.
Both, Frége and Carnap, represented as analyticity’s best friends in this century, did as much to undermine it as its worst enemies. Quine (1908-) whose early work was on mathematical logic, and issued in “A System of Logistic” (1934), “Mathematical Logic” (1940) and “Methods of Logic” (1950) it was with this collection of papers a “Logical Point of View” (1953) that his philosophical importance became widely recognized, also, Putman (1926-) his concern in the later period has largely been to deny any serious asymmetry between truth and knowledge as it is obtained in natural science, and as it is obtained in morals and even theology. Books include, Philosophy of logic (1971), Representation and Reality (1988) and Renewing Philosophy (1992). Collections of his papers including Mathematics, Master, and Method, (1975), Mind, Language, and Reality, (1975) and Realism and Reason (1983). Both of which represented as having refuted the analytic/synthetic distinction, not only did no such thing, but, in fact, contributed significantly to undoing the damage done by Frége and Carnap. Finally, the epistemological significance of the distinctions is nothing like what it is commonly taken to be.
Locke’s account of an analyticity proposition as, for its time, everything that a succinct account of analyticity should be (Locke, 1924, pp. 306-8) he distinguished two kinds of analytic propositions, identified propositions in which we affirm the said terms if itself, e.g., ‘Roses are roses’, and predicative propositions in which ‘a part of the complex idea is predicated of the name of the whole’, e.g., ‘Roses are flowers’. Locke calls such sentences ‘trifling’ because a speaker who uses them ‘trifles with words’. A synthetic sentence, in contrast, such as a mathematical theorem, states ‘a truth and conveys with its informative real knowledge’. Correspondingly, Locke distinguishes two kinds of ‘ necessary consequences’, analytic entailment where validity depends on the literal containment of the conclusions in the premiss and synthetic entailments where it does not. (Locke did not originate this concept-containment notion of analyticity. It is discussions by Arnaud and Nicole, and it is safe to say it has been around for a very long time (Arnaud, 1964).
Kant’s account of analyticity, which received opinion tells ‘us’ is the consummate formulation of this notion in modern philosophy, is actually a step backward. What is valid in his account is not novel, and what is novel is not valid. Kant presents Locke’s account of concept-containment analyticity, but introduces certain alien features, the most important being his characterizations of most important being his characterization of analytic propositions as propositions whose denials are logical contradictions (Kant, 1783). This characterization suggests that analytic propositions based on Locke’s part-whole relation or Kant’s explicative copula are a species of logical truth. But the containment of the predicate concept in the subject concept in sentences like ‘Bachelors are unmarried’ is a different relation from containment of the consequent in the antecedent in a sentence like ‘If John is a bachelor, then John is a bachelor or Mary read Kant’s Critique’. The former is literal containment whereas, the latter are, in general, not. Talk of the ‘containment’ of the consequent of a logical truth in the metaphorical, a way of saying ‘logically derivable’.
Kant’s conflation of concept containment with logical containment caused him to overlook the issue of whether logical truths are synthetically deductive and the problem of how he can say mathematical truths are synthetically deductive when they cannot be denied without contradiction. Historically. , the conflation set the stage for the disappearance of the Lockean notion. Frége, whom received opinion portrays as second only to Kant among the champions of analyticity, and Carnap, who it portrays as just behind Frége, was jointly responsible for the appearance of concept-containment analyticity.
Frége was clear about the difference between concept containment and logical containment, expressing it as like the difference between the containment of ‘beams in a house’ the containment of a ‘plant in the seed’ (Frége, 1853). But he found the former, as Kant formulated it, defective in three ways: It explains analyticity in psychological terms, it does not cover all cases of analytic propositions, and, perhaps, most important for Frége’s logicism, its notion of containment is ‘unfruitful’ as a definition: Mechanisms in logic and mathematics (Frége, 1853). In an insidious containment between the two notions of containment, Frége observes that with logical containment ‘we are not simply talking out of the box again what we have just put inti it’. This definition makes logical containment the basic notion. Analyticity becomes a special case of logical truth, and, even in this special case, the definitions employ the power of definition in logic and mathematics than mere concept combination.
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