Epistemology – Take Home Final
Paper One – Descartes and the sceptical arguments.
This paper will deal with Descartes first two arguments for scepticism, and the lapses in their structural cogency,
“Whatever I have up till now accepted as most true I have acquired either from the sense or through the sense. But from time to time I have found that the senses deceive, and it is prudent to trust completely those who have deceived us even once.” (Descartes, 515-16) Descartes’ initial defence of the institution of scepticism relies on the acceptance of the argument from illusion. Effectually, Descartes is suggesting exactly what Hume was writing about in Of the Academical or Sceptical Philosophy. “The table, which we see, seems to diminish, as we remove farther from it: but the real table, which exists independent of us, suffers no alternation: it was, therefore, nothing but its image, which was present in the mind.” (Hume, 48) The argument relies on our willingness to allow for the rational that, because we can perceive illusion (whether or how we understand them, ignored) we should be willing to worry about it. The problem here is however, entre parenthese. While the logic of the argument from illusion holds in the sense that, we knowingly perceive certain illusions and hence have reason to believe that all such experiences have the potential to be illusory, it fails with respect to its cognitive ignorance of the human minds ability to reason. Ironically, a display of this sort of reason is contained even in Hume’s own example. There is no cogent explanation for Hume’s acknowledgement of the diminished table as illusory. In point of fact, his own ability to recognize and explain away the aspect of illusion is demonstrable of exactly how one might get around the existence of illusions as an argument for sense data or scepticism.
Following Descartes basic introduction to the argument from illusion is the common sceptical argument of waking life being qualitatively similar to dreams. The corporeal structures of these two arguments are generally identical in that they are both built on the fallibility of perception. Descartes likens his own experience of dreaming to the waking life of a madman, suggesting that to distinguish qualitatively between himself and the madman would be logically absurd since he cannot legitimize any type of statement that he is now, having thought of it, either awake or asleep. The two, he says, are experientially akin. It follows for Descartes that because he dreams such things as, in his dreaming life, he believes to be true, how can he be certain that in his waking life he is not likewise mistaken? What Descartes can furthermore not account for, which is here keenly problematic, is exactly how he can account for those misconceptions that he recognizes in his dreams. Following in the footsteps of my refutation of the argument from illusion, the argument from qualitative dreaming should be noticeably weakened on the grounds that, to establish it, one must first acknowledge their ability to establish certain other truths. This on its own is antithetic to the nature of scepticism, as it implies that there should be an overall sense of interpretive distrust on the grounds that we have empirically determined our interpretive failures. Furthermore, in trying to ascertain if there are some such things which can be understood as real in some important sense , Descartes attempts to bridge the waking and dreaming worlds by way of basic arithmetic, ignoring of course the general implications of set theory and the nature of numbers as being logical constructs in-so-far as we understand them.
Hence, Descartes primary arguments for scepticism as an epistemic structure, fail themselves on the grounds of the incongruity between their theoretical content and their practical make-up.
Paper Two – Stove on the Law of Large Numbers
First and foremost, Stoves argumentation for inductive inference by way of the Law of Large Numbers begins with a brief history of the theory of probability, which in and of itself, seems to operate as support for his thesis. Stove draws on three accounts of probability, which operate socially in so far as they are common-sensical, or as Laplace put it, “bon sense reduit au calcul.” (Stove, 355) Stove methodically establishes direct inference, ironically furthering that truism with the logically flawed social phenomena of what he calls ‘gamblers’ inference. In the case of the argument for direct inference, Stove demonstrates with relative concreteness that rational dictates the reliability of trial en masse. We are prone to believing P if it happens x number of times. Conversely, in gamblers inference, while the logic itself is flawed, we are intuitively inclined to agree with Stoves claim to the intrinsic value we place of large number theories. Thus, he says, “we all believe, or at least we all reason in countless cases as though we believe, “the law of large numbers”: that if the probability of the event E at each trial is x, then the probability is extremely high that in a large number of trials E will occur with a relative frequency which is close to x.” (352)
The third form of inference that Stove approaches is, of course, the most important. It is what is classically referred to as inverted inference, but what we are going to call inductive inference; it is what this paper aims to support according to the law of large numbers. The basic proposition follows straightforwardly, that if we have tried many times, we generally concede to being accurate in our inference, whilst fewer trials allow for a seriously weakened sense of rightness, or truth. “...just as everyone thinks and always has thought that direct inference to large numbers is justified, and to small numbers not, so everyone thinks and always has thought that induction from large numbers is justified, and from small numbers not.” (355) It is most obvious here that the heart of Stove’s argument hinges on a largely social understanding of what is generally accepted and what is generally refuted. The problem with this being that the middle ground of the argument, the support posited by the logical deductions of gamblers inference, are likewise social. Importantly, they demonstrate the fallibility of the social realm, which taints Stoves appeal to the collective common sense. Still, the redeeming quality is here that inductive inference claims not to be a matter of indubitability. Rather, it is a premise, which is admittedly tempered by a give-or-take kind of nature. We are not saying that inductive inference is ever going to give us the kind of certainty by which we can resolve major philosophical blunders – actually, we are just saying that this is a noteworthy truth that has thus far been too much discounted. Indeed, even in later sections of the paper, where Stove attempts to establish a more reliable, mathematical account of the induction according to large numbers, the ‘absolutes’ are still ‘indefinite’.
In a theoretical and small-scale practical sense, Stoves argument works. Obviously, in theory the argument holds to whatever degree it purports to establish any certainty, though it must be careful to acknowledge its own shortcomings. Furthermore, tossing coins on your driveway, using the proportional syllogism here proposed, one can in fact predict with relative accuracy the results of the test. Still, in some further scientific sense, the argument is shady. Major problems occur in trying to establish exactly how one might resolve to accrue accurate representative samples, and the results of any sort of inference are going to have to be tempered with all sorts of innocuous language, because of course we are dealing in probabilities, rather than factual results. Overall, Stoves argument operates as an appeal to rational minds. Like, if A is not working, try B; Or, if A has always worked in the past, there is clearly no need to try B.
Paper Three – Nozick’s rejection of closure.
The heart of this paper can be summarized as follows: the tiger has no teeth. Despite the fact that we cannot dismantle the structure of scepticism, scepticism can be defeated in essence. Nozick is not arguing against scepticism as an epistemic system, but rather holds that, because nothing entails anything else, we should subscribe to a relative position, allowing for ground on both ends of the argument. As such, Nozick proposes a form of epistemic relativism called tracking. Under this umbrella, he suggests four premises, which amount to his conditions for knowledge.
(1) p is true
(2) S believes that p
(3) if p weren’t true, S would not believe that p
(4) p -> S believe that p
Much of the argument hinges on the subjunctive conditional 3, primarily because of what it does not entail. Because 3 is not an entailment, it does not require that not-p stipulates that S never believe it. To be clear: 3 does not attempt to establish that not-p means that S does not believe that p. In this, Nozick allows for the kind of human fallibility that one might like to believe leads into the sceptical trap. On the contrary, this is where Nozick allows for the sceptical structure, as, he says, the structure itself cannot be torn down. Still, this does not necessarily allow for the extreme sceptical repercussions that we are really trying to avoid, like that s = k, where k represents knowledge (in general). Rather, Nozick argues that while there are certain sceptical scenarios and queries which we cannot rule out (on account of the sceptical structure), and because p does not entail q (in fact, nothing entails anything), the doubt we are allowed to have does not necessitate doubt in all things or all knowledge. Do I know that I am not a brain in a vat? No. Does that mean that I do not know that I am here writing this paper for the nine millionth time? No. In point of fact, being in place x does not entail not being in place y. It actually cannot entail anything else because subjunctive conditional 3 (if p were false, S wouldn’t believe that p) involves the variance that Nozick requires for true belief, in its operation of establishing knowledge. “A belief’s somehow varying with the truth of what is believed is not closed under known logical implication. Since knowledge that p involves such variation, knowledge also is not closed under known logical implication.” (487) A major problem with closure is its relation to logical implication and its ineptitude in addressing what might be involved in p where it is false. Because an account of knowledge cannot be held to be adequate if it cannot compensate for knowledge in its realm of falsity or fallibility, cannot, in effect, be well rounded, then a closed-ended proposition like logical implication cannot be held to account for knowledge at all. It requires some other proposition(s) that can respond to other worlds where p might be wrong, or not-p might be the case. Hence, 3.
“...we have seen how it may be that p entail q and you believe each and you wouldn’t have a false belief that p yet you might have a false belief that q... Knowledge is not closed under the known logical implication because “wouldn’t have a false belief that” is not closed under known logical implication.” (486)
Nozick’s rejection of closure is entirely successful, largely because he is not overly ambitious about it. While closure is intuitively attractive, holding the promise of some more concrete response, Nozick offers something that actually works. The operations of the subjunctive conditionals are both clever and sound: while ascertaining a functional account of what can and cannot constitute knowledge, they also foil the broad strokes of scepticism such that we can rest easy on middle ground.
Paper 4 – Putnam on the possibility of sceptical situations.
Putnam’s paper dismisses the assumed sceptical possibility that we are actually brains in vats in some world where our everyday lives are merely played out electrical impulses that deceive us into believing that we live in our real world. Her argument hinges on our understanding of what she calls ‘magical theories of reference’. To explain this it will be useful to posit The Chinese Room example. Imagine that there is an entirely bricked up room, save small doors where books may be passed back and forth, and in the room is an English speaking man. The room is built with instructional texts, which are full of Chinese symbols and coded to correspond to other texts, which are highlighted and passed in to the room by outsiders. Say that the outsiders pass into the room English sentences, which are then run through the instructional texts. All the man in the room has to do is match up numerological markers between the words passed in and the instructional texts that the room holds. Then, after following this system, the man in the room can pass back perfectly constructed Chinese sentences. In some important sense, there may even be a conversation taking place. But exactly who is having the conversation? Who is speaking Chinese? The man in the room, or the room itself? The idea, as this example relates to Putnam’s argument, is that words, images, etc. are not on their own imbued with meaning. In no way is the man in the room actually speaking Chinese. Rather, he is following instructions that, unbeknownst to him, are capable of having meaning in Chinese. Meaning is not derived from the practice of, but from the intention of. “...even a large and complex system of representations, both verbal and visual, still does not have an intrinsic, built-in, magical connection with what it represents – a connection independent of how it was caused and what the disposition of the speaker or thinker are.” (527)
With this, Putnam attempts to refute the brains-in-vats theory. Putnam argues that brains in vats would simply not be able to refer meaningfully to external objects at all. While a great many of her examples are well-behaved in their operations for the defence of conceptual value being afforded by cognitive intention, the argument that this generally defeats the possibility that we are BIV’s is weak, to say the least. Specifically, Putnam’s argument only actually establishes that to be BIV’s and to conceive of ourselves as possibly being BIV’s, might mean that our concepts are inaccurate or suggestive or some obscured meaning – but hardly that we could never be stimulated to entertain the notion. The leap from the argument for intention as the avenue to conceptual meaning and the defeat of the BIV hypothetical is too vast to say she bridges it well. We will allow her that, “those “mental objects” we can introspectively detect – words, images, feelings, etc. – do not intrinsically refer,” and that, “concepts are (at least in part) abilities and not occurrences.” (537) But to say that, “if we are brains in a vat, then the sentence “We are brains in a vat” says something false (if it says anything). In short, if we are brains in a vat, then “We are brains in a vat” is false. So it is (necessarily) false.” (533) is largely unsupported and inferential. According to Putnam, as BIV’s, we should simply not be capable of sincerely referring to ourselves as brains-in-vats. She suggests, in a Cartesian vein, that this is a self-refuting proposition, in that just to suggest that we might be proves that we cannot be. She aims to establish some logical impossibility in BIV’s being stimulated to contemplate their possible existence as BIV’s. While we’re willing to allow that BIV’s would not conceptually hold visual images, thoughts or feelings that are qualitatively identical to real-worlder’s concepts, there seems to be no logical reasoning which actually suggests that just because the BIV concepts are qualitatively different, they aren’t actually possible, despite the fact that they may be, to some extent, meaningless.