Some of the comments on my previous post called to my attention something I probably wouldn’t have noticed were it not for the substance of the post itself. Specifically, the act of interpreting a “text” (by which I mean to include not only written ideas but spoken ones) is perhaps one of the more familiar cases of the phenomenon I was attempting to characterize in the last post. One’s “reading” of a text is a way of seeing it. And people can agree about what words are on a page and yet disagree about how best to “read” them—about what significance to attribute to the whole message. These disagreements are meaningful even if all agree on what words are on the page (or in the post, etc.).
In any event, I couldn't resist the urge to elaborate on this idea of "ways of seeing" and its relation to "the facts" by using my previous post and different ways of seeing it as an example (since that kind of meta-level self-referential stuff just makes me happy).
Bernard and Burk and Darrell all “saw” my last post (about ways of seeing) differently—and, as is inevitably the case in human communication, all three ways of seeing differed from one another. Bernard "saw" the post (through the lens of Karl Popper) as way of understanding religion that made it hardly at odds with atheism at all; Burk saw it as an extension of the very thing Flew was critiquing—an attempt to avoid taking a stand on a claim of divine existence unsupported by any evidence; Darrell saw it as highlighting the fact that all of us inevitably bring a broader story to our experience, in the light of which we impart meaning and significance to “the facts” of experience.
Again as is inevitably the case, these ways of seeing my post deviated in differing degrees and places from my intentions as the author of the post. In fact, this is one important reason for putting one’s thoughts into words and inviting critique. Part of the reason, of course, is to critically assess the content of what one is saying—to identify places where one’s reasoning is faulty, etc. But part of the reason is to identify places where one needs to refine one’s mode of expression in order for one’s intentions to be more precisely characterized (which is why criticisms that are based on misunderstanding are often helpful, and not something simply to be dismissed).
At the same time, sometimes readings of a text that deviate from the author’s intentions are just fine—even something to encourage rather than bemoan. I'm reminding of some of the great conversations I've had about literature. The sharing of alternative readings is one of the great delights in such discussions--and this delight would be seriously truncated were we all to feel the need to simply focus on what the author intended to say. In cases in which I’ve been privy to conversations about short stories of mine, it has usually been a pleasure to hear how others see the story—often in ways that never occurred to me as I was writing it (but which nevertheless strike me as entirely fitting “readings” of it).
Of course, in philosophical discourse there is often an attempt to communicate a precise idea. But even in such cases others may “read” a text in valuable ways that don’t match the author’s intentions. It is not unusual for me to hear (at conferences or in print) a restatement of my argument that draws out of it insights I wasn’t explicitly thinking about at all and so couldn’t have intended to assert—but which, on reflection, seem to be working as a kind of undercurrent to my thought that has now been brought to light.
Even so, in many modes of discourse (including philosophical ones) authorial intent still operates as a kind of standard against which alternative readings need to be assessed. How closely does our way of seeing the text conform to what the author was trying to say? Sometimes, when the author is dead or otherwise unavailable, this question inspires careful study of the author’s historical and cultural context, as well as of other works by the author, etc., fuelling any number of scholarly activities and debates. Rival scholars can propose very different ways of seeing the text, but unlike those engaged in a more free-flowing conversation about literature, the alternative ways of seeing proposed by the scholars are tied to a standard outside the text. That is, these scholars are making a truth-claim about something that isn't a part of the text but plays a role in their reading of it--specifically, a truth claim about authorial intent.
When the author is alive and accessible, of course, one can always ask the author to clarify what he or she means. The problem, of course, is that the resultant clarification is yet another “text”—one which will likely be amenable to alternative readings or ways of seeing, some of which will be closer to the author’s intentions than others. But the process of clarification is not, therefore, pointless. As authors discover the different ways of seeing their text (by having it actually seen in these ways by various readers), they can fill in details or gaps that can help to rule out gross misreadings and bring it about that readers see the text in a manner ever closer to the author’s original intention.
(Of course, a reading of a text is itself a text that is likely amenable to various readings—a fact which adds an additional layer of complexity to the communicative process).
Let's take my previous post, and one of the comments about it, as an example. In that post, as you'll recall, I made use of the duck-rabbit image--which I'll reproduce here so no one will feel the need to scroll back to the previous post:
I used this image to propose a way of understanding (at least much) religious language (ooh! a way of seeing religion that invokes ways of seeing as the way of seeing! Alright, I'll stop now). I pointed out that there is a difference between offering a description of a specific feature of the image—which will either be accurate or inaccurate, and hence will say something that is true or false by reference to what is there—and seeing the image in a given way (as a duck, or as a rabbit). My claim was that religious language is often about providing an interpretive worldview whose function is to afford a way of seeing the whole of experience (as opposed to describing a feature of it).
What I hoped to do was respond to Flew by showing that there are different ways in which statements can be meaningful. Flew claims that "sophisticated" theists so qualify their claim about the existence of God that it becomes consistent with anything we might observe about how the empirical world is arranged. In so doing, Flew thinks they have rendered their theistic hypothesis meaningless.** My point (following R.M. Hare and John Hick) is that offering a statement that makes a difference in the observable facts is only one way that a statement can be meaningful. Another is to offer a way of seeing the observable facts—and such a way of seeing will be meaningful insofar as it lends a different significance to the facts than they would have under an alternative way of seeing the same facts. But a way of seeing a set of facts doesn't typically add any new facts to the set it is interpreting.
But a way of seeing might very well presuppose a broader context than the set of facts which are being interpreted. It may make assertions about what is true concerning this broader context, even if it is not making assertions about what is included within the set of facts being interpreted. And with respect to these assertions about the broader context we may ask, “Why should I believe that?”
The most critical response to my previous post, offered by Burk, relies on this point. Burk's chief objection (unless I am misreading him) is that theism is a way of seeing the totality of empirical facts that does make such an assertion about a broader context within which the material world studied by science is situated. The most significant such assertion, of course, is “God exists.” But insofar as this assertion is endlessly qualified so as to be rendered consistent with any empirical facts whatever (as Flew claims is the case with "sophisticated" theism), it becomes an assertion for which no evidence is in principle available (at least if we take “evidence” in roughly the scientific sense). In effect, Burk is saying, "Okay, so sophisticated theism offers a way of seeing the whole of experience. But so what? That doesn't negate that it is also making an assertion about reality without any possibility of evidence being adduced in its favor."
This response to my post is rooted in a “way of seeing” what I wrote—or, in more usual terms, a reading of it. Among other things, this reading seems to take my post as an effort to defend theism against not merely Flew’s challenge of meaninglessness but against what has come to be called “the evidentialist challenge”—a challenge to theistic belief (and other religious beliefs) that in its usual form runs very roughly as follows: There is no good reason to believe that theism is true, no signs or indicators that speak in its favor; and in the absence of any such evidence one should presumptively disbelieve. (Since the evidential challenge is the next unit to be covered in my philosophy of religion class, you can expect a more detailed treatment of it soon).
Now I do have things to say about the evidentialist challenge. And I do think that the distinctive character of religious beliefs—that they provide “ways of seeing” the totality of observable facts by appeal to a posited "transcendent" realm—has some bearing on this challenge. But I do not think the mere fact that theistic belief serves as a “way of seeing” the world is sufficient to defuse the evidentialist challenge. It isn’t, for some of the reasons Burk gestures to in his comment. I do, however, think it is sufficient to show a way in which such a belief can be meaningful other than the ways Flew recognizes—and hence as providing the basis for a response to Flew’s challenge of meaninglessness.
Here, then, is one way in which someone can read a text in a manner at odds with the intentions of the author: the scope of an argument can be taken as more ambitious than the author intended.
But here’s the thing. In seeing my previous post as he did, Burk was doing more than merely casting the text in a certain light. After all, what cast that light were his beliefs about something beyond the text—more precisely, beliefs about what I was intending to do or show with my argument. In this case, the beliefs in question happen to be false—but in the very act of misreading my post, Burk exemplifies a point he makes in his remark that is exactly right: a way of seeing a set of accepted truths or facts, while it does not add new truths to the set, might presuppose the truth of something outside the set.
In the case of students in a literature class offering various interpretations of a literary work, such presuppositions are not usually being made. Their alternative readings don't hinge in any way on claims about authorial intent. They’re just offering “free floating” ways of seeing the text. But in the case of various scholarly interpretations of, say, Kant’s Transcendental Deduction, the alternative readings of the text may depend heavily on views concerning authorial intent. And such “transcendent” truth claims could be false.
In other words, since such scholarly readings of a text are rooted in claims about what is true about something beyond the text, it is coherent to talk about misreadings in a way that doesn't seem appropriate when the participants in a book group share their different ways of seeing the novel-of-the-month. The scholar's interpretation requires evidence, because it is not merely a free-floating reading of the text. It is a reading of the text that is paired with the following claim: "This is the reading of the text intended by the author." In fact, scholars often arrive at the reading they do by first considering evidence concerning authorial intentions--and then using that evidence to arrive at a way of seeing the text that they take to be true to those intentions.
I also think the distinction between the way that lay Christians in Bible studies approach sections of Scripture, and the way that biblical scholars do so, is very relevant here. The former involves what I'm calling "free floating" readings. Participants share their readings of a New Testament epistle and others say, "Oh, I hadn't thought of it that way. Here's how I see it." People go home with things to think about, perhaps a bit wiser about the human condition. Biblical scholars, by contrast, marshal evidence of various kinds to arrive at a theory about what the author of the epistle meant in this or that passage. While this theory is a reading of the text, it isn't a free floating one. Rather, it is a reading that makes a truth claim about something beyond the text, in the light of which this reading of the text is taken to be appropriate.
Consider two ways that, on viewing the duck-rabbit image, I might see it as a duck. First, I might approach it as an ambiguous image that can be seen either way, and I just happen to decide to see it as a duck for the moment. But now suppose that the image appears through an opening in one surface of a sealed metal cube. Suppose the surface is considerably broader than the window through which the image is visible, so that it is possible that what I am seeing is part of a broader image, most of which is hidden under the metal surface. Suppose I come to believe that this is in fact the case: the drawing continues beyond the limits of what I can see, with only the "head" visible in the opening. But now suppose I go even further than that. Suppose I become come convinced that what is hidden from view is an oval-shaped body stretching out below and to the right of the visible picture, complete with webbed feet. Now, of course, I see the image in the opening as the head of a duck--but not in a free floating way. I see it in this way because I have situated the visible image in the context of a certain conception of what the "whole picture" looks like.
In this latter case, it is true enough that my seeing the image in the window as a duck does not require me to deny of the image (or attribute to it) any facts not denied of (or attributed to) the image by those who see it as a rabbit. As such, my seeing it as a duck does not involve my making any new factual claims about the image. But I am making a factual claim about what is hidden behind the metal surface of the block. I am claiming that there is more to the image than we can see—and I have the audacity, if you will, to harbor a specific belief about what that “something more” is like.
I suspect that many atheists look at theistic belief in much the way that most of us would be inclined to look at the person who not only sees the image in the metal block as a duck, but does so as an extension of the broader conviction that the visible image is part of a larger one we cannot see (but which the person is happy to attribute details to even so). At least initially, harboring such beliefs seems strange. How could someone be willing, in the total absence of any glimpse of what is underneath the metal, to embrace the view that there is an image of a duck body there? And why would anyone think that such belief is legitimate?
It is in such cases that the evidentialist challenge to religious belief becomes significant. And since that is the topic being covered this week in my philosophy of religion class, it will also be the topic of my next post.
**I actually think Flew overstates his case when he says that the "Believer" in his parable about the invisible gardener has qualified his claim about the gardener so much that the claim has become consistent with any facts whatever. After all, what prompts the "gardener hypothesis" in the first place is a set of fact--a beautiful clearing in the woods, with flowers arranged in a distinctively appealing manner, etc. Were it not for this set of facts, the gardener hypothesis would never have been made in the first place. After all, that hypothesis amounts to a "way of seeing" the clearing. If there is no clearing, then there is nothing to see in that way. And a similar point can be made about theism: Were the elements of human experience radically different than they are--no aesthetic or moral experience, no moments of mystical encounters with the numinous, nothing but chaos in the physical world, etc.--the theistic way of seeing might not make any sense at all. It would be like seeing the duck-rabbit image as the football player attacking a penguin.
I have been interested in the study of early christianity, and have been studying it for a number of years as laymen/hobbyist. I am ALWAYS interested in meeting others that are interested in this topic too, and welcome people that are also interested in in this subject to contact me. Specifically I am interested in how christianity got started, and if there was a original founder.
ReplyDeleteI am not interested in the supernaturalistic aspect of the topic, but am interested in the history of the subject. Questions about the historical jesus; http://bit.ly/ckQgmj and early christianity; http://bit.ly/bRxaHl are two of my main areas of interest
Cheers! webulite.com
Eric
ReplyDeleteThe more I think about this idea of making meaning, the less clear it becomes to me. In education we speak of something having meaning for the student when they have connected it to their existing framework of knowledge, and we often test a student's understanding by asking them to view or respond to the idea in a new context, the thought being that in order to do this you need to be able to see how it fits with other ideas. So, a new idea becomes more meaningful as its connectedness to other knowledge increases.
While it's clear that to some extent we all have different sets of existing ideas and experiences, the very processes of education and communication assume a certain amount of common ground. That's not always the case, but in a forum such as this it's likely there will be a pretty solid base of shared culture or we would never have found our way here.
So, when reading your text for the first time, Darrell, Burk and I may have all seized on slightly different aspects, and thus each drawn out the implications of a particular set of connections. What I'm not sure of though is whether this really counts as pulling different meaning from what you wrote. I suspect we all got pretty much the same read on it, but were interested in following different paths away from the text. Certainly I don't find myself disagreeing with anything Burk or Darrell wrote, and I suspect Burk and I were even heading somewhere similar in our responses.
I note this because I wonder if it might not become easy to overstate the role played by world views. Often differences are to do with unexamined links and implications, and conversations such as this can therefore bring us together so long as we're alert to the weaknesses in our own arguments. That's a slightly naive enlightment sentiment I know, but I draw hope from it.
It seems to me that the difference between naturalists and theists is much less pronounced than the difference between thinkers of conviction and those who acknowledge their uncertainty.
Bernard
Hi, Eric-
ReplyDeleteThanks for your extensive discussion.
"I do, however, think it is sufficient to show a way in which such a belief can be meaningful other than the ways Flew recognizes—and hence as providing the basis for a response to Flew’s challenge of meaninglessness."
Here I think you may confuse two types of "meaning"- the factual and the personal. Totally made-up and spurious assertions can be personally meaningful. But I think what Flew had in mind is the capacity to make significant distinctions about reality ... scientific, or objective, meaning, one might say.
I hardly need to trot out the personal meaning argument. The koran burning episode gives us eloquent testimony of how people can make a meaningful mountain out of a epistemic molehill.
"But I am making a factual claim about what is hidden behind the metal surface of the block. I am claiming that there is more to the image than we can see—and I have the audacity, if you will, to harbor a specific belief about what that “something more” is like."
Precisely. And such hypotheses are hardly worth much on their own before one has the means to look a them in greater detail- to gather evidence and make factual distinctions. Before that, they are little better than fairy tales. So I look forward to your evidentialist presentation.
cont..
"Were the elements of human experience radically different than they are--no aesthetic or moral experience, no moments of mystical encounters with the numinous, nothing but chaos in the physical world, etc.--the theistic way of seeing might not make any sense at all."
ReplyDeleteOh- here you appear to be presenting your evidentialist argument in advance. Aesthetic, moral, and mystical experiences are all located in our psychology first and foremost. It escapes me why you would leap to creators of the universe and the like if there are much more immediate and sensible accounts. I don't dispute that the narcissistic inflation of mystical communion can have powerful practical effects, whether for good or ill (again psychological in nature). But hanging scientific hypotheses on them (as the god hypothesis does in all its non-Jungian forms) seems most unwise, in the absence of corresponding scientific evidence.
Not only that, but the history of the theistic hypothesis is so tawdry. It has had thousands of years, first to formulate a multitude of gods and theistic systems to fit the "god-shaped hole" in human cognition and emotion (what atheists regard as a viral process of abusing human weaknesses). And now it has had hundreds of years to backtrack from its more florid and blatantly insupportable claims (depending on who is listening) to those which, as Flew characterizes them, are essentially meaningless "theories of everything" and theories of nothing. ... Though highly meaningful, as you note!
Theism says
ReplyDelete1) There is a first cause (i.e. something ends an otherwise infinite regress of causes
2) That first cause has personhood (self-awareness and free will)
So i.e. "God" means that the first cause is a mind. That may be wrong, but it *is* intelligible.
"God acts" = "the personal first cause acts upon the congintent reality it created"
Where's the beef? Theistic claims are meaningful, even if they are false.
Theism is not directly testable, but neither is (strong) atheism. The claim "there is no God" means either
1) there is no first cause
or
2) the first cause is not personal
Neither of those claims are scientifically testable, but they're still meaningful. Likewise, the idea that there are other space-times apart from our own universe (the idea of a multiverse) is not scientifically testable.
The idea that "all religious claims are nonsense" is false.
Hi, Pat-
ReplyDeleteThis is a great example. Whether or not there is something we could ever construe as a first cause, how could anyone form a useful hypothesis about it having personhood or not? Such a proposition is wholly without foundation / evidence / reason, etc. That is why it is meaningless in Flew's sense.
The assertion isn't linguistically meaningless, but it doesn't do any work in making reality-based distinctions, even as it occupies a hugely meaningful place in our psychological comfort zone. There are meanings and meanings.
Bernard,
ReplyDeleteI think there may be considerable similarity between the the kind of meaning that a "way of seeing" attaches to things and the kind of meaning that educators are talking about in your account.
In both cases, isolated "facts" are being fit together. In the case of education, a student understands the meaning of a new bit of knowledge when he/she fits the fact into a broader system and sees it in relation to that larger whole. A way of seeing takes an entire set of facts, if you will, and proposes a way of relating them together--a way of seeing them AS a whole (or, in some cases, as part of a larger whole).
Another way to think of this is in terms of narratives. We can piece together bits of information in different ways that tell different stories. Consider a series of events that recently occured with my sister. Her dog started breaking out of the house by ripping open window screens. The first time it happened, the dog was inside while my sister and her husband were in the garden, and the dog apparently broke out to get to them. But in subsequent days she did it while left alone, and had to pry open cracked windows to do it.
The vet put her on doggie prozac. The next day, the dog sat staring intently at the fireplace. My sister thought it was strange. At some point she went down to the basement and smelled gas. She called the gas company, and when they came, they found a gas leak in the fireplace. The dog has made no escape attempts since.
Cont.===>
These facts can be put together in different ways to tell different stories. One story is this: The dog was always a bit neurotic and suffered from separation anxiety. Once she had discovered that she could break out through screens, she began to compulsively look for ways to do so when left alone (motivated by anxiety). The doggy prozac cured the anxiety. Concidentally, at around the same time my sister smelled gas, called the gas utility, and had the gas leak repaired. The dog may have been staring at the fireplace because something smelled different.
ReplyDeleteHere is another way to piece together the story: The gas leak had been going on for awhile, triggering the dog's desire to escape the house--as well as its propensity to stare at the source of the undesirable smell. Once the gas leak was prepared, the dog went back to normal. The doggy prozac was unnecessary.
Here's yet another way to tell the story: The dog was expressing in various ways its general distress about something being seriously wrong in the house. My sister might not have noticed or attended to the smell of gas had it not been for this pattern of unusual canine behavior. But with this pattern of escape attempts--and having recently puzzled over why the dog was staring fixedly at the fireplace, my sister was primed to notice the smell and call the gas utility. The dog thus saved their lives.
The last version of the story happens to be the one my sister has started to tell in hindsight. From a purely storytelling standpoint it makes for a better story--the elements are causally related in a way that makes it ONE story. And it makes a huge difference for how my sister thinks of her dog.
So which version is true? I have no idea. I'd be surprised if my sister would have failed to notice the smell of gas or would have failed to call the gas utility in the ABSENCE of any unusual canine behavior--which leads me to favor one of the first two stories. I think it is quite possible that sentiment has inspired my sister to remember the relevent elements of her internal state in ways most amenable to the third story. But that fact needs to be balanced against the fact that she has access to her internal states in a way that I do not.
Hi Burk,
ReplyDelete>> Whether or not there is something we could ever construe as a first cause, how could anyone form a useful hypothesis about it having personhood or not? <<
I’ll get to that in a moment.
>> Such a proposition is wholly without foundation / evidence / reason, etc. That is why it is meaningless in Flew's sense. <<
By the same line of reasoning, strong atheism is also “without foundation/ evidence/ reason, etc.” because strong atheism is an idea *about* the first cause (either that there was no first cause or that the first cause is not personal). Strong atheism and theism should both be meaningless in your view, leaving agnosticism (or I-don’t-know-ism) as the only rational position.
continued..
(cont.)
ReplyDeleteBut I think interesting arguments can be made that there is/was a first cause and that it is personal. For example, consider WL Craig’s KCA. For the record, I’m still on the fence about it (not convinced yet), but a case can be made. The argument runs as follows:
a) all matter/energy/space/time had an absolute beginning at some point in the finite past (Craig argues this point scientifically and philosophically)
b) the only way for a temporal effect to stem from a timeless cause is for the timeless cause to possess self-awareness and free will (Craig makes a philosophical argument for this)
c) if time had an absolute beginning, its cause would be personal
d) time (and the rest of all matter, energy and space) *did* have an absolute beginning (or so Craig argues)
e) therefore, the cause of time (and of our universe) is a personal agent
In the process, Craig also argues against an infinite regress, arguing that there has to be a first cause. Incidentally, Craig pointed all of this out to Flew during their debate.
For details on the argument, see Craig’s 2004 lecture on “Beyond the Big Bang”, which is available on youtube:
Part 1 of 6 of main lecture: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=esqGaLSWgNc
2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2H_KFdZaM88
3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dd8cH7vto14
4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ud1oM0zX8w
5: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wxf9r8nh25Y
6: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbB2Ea3JLUU
Q/A part 1 of 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AIeJdbtYkyA
2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-JSyXzxOMk
3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yjMhqo6737Y
4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTfZDsSLsi4
(continued..)
test post... Eric,do you know what's going on with the posts?
ReplyDeleteThe third part of my original comment is not showing up. Any thoughts?
ReplyDeleteI don't think anyone sees William Lane Craig as a actual scholar. He is more of a performer.
ReplyDeleteCheers! webulite.com
Hi, Pat-
ReplyDeleteThanks for your emails..
First off, I'll agree right off that strong atheism is formally unsound, and that agnosticism is the only sure bet. I'd make reference to psychological arguments to support the idea that gods, superheros, and the like are exceedingly & extremely likely to be of our own invention. But not knowing what is really going on in the cosmos, I can't make any definitive statements on how it all began or even how it all works.
With all due to respect to Craig, even if his arguments are as philosophical as you say, they still don't make any sense. He is delving into science here, and science that we know next to nothing about. One snippet I see on a relevant site discussion this theory is...
http://www.infidels.org/library/modern/james_still/kalam.html
"The wind that causes a leaf to detach from its branch cannot determine its own course of action. ... A mechanical cause is unintelligent and cannot distinguish one particular moment in time from another. Therefore, a first mechanical cause could not have produced the universe in time."
First, this is not correct, since mechanical causes are telling us the time all the time. They have no "consciousness" of it, which is perhaps what is tripping Craig up, but they "do" time perpetually. Secondly, the origin of time is highly mysterious, and I would frankly hesitate to speculate about it. Guth is an estimable scientist, and time is indeed likely to have had a beginning of sorts as he says. But still, what does that tell us? Not much.
Every cause we find around us, excepting ourselves, of course, is mechanical, and we ourselves turn out to be mechanical as well, so there is as yet little precedent or cause for surmising anything but mechanical causes elsewhere .. other than our various psychological needs, perhaps.
"The only way for the cause to be timeless and changeless but for its effect to originate de novo a finite time ago is for the cause to be a personal agent who freely chooses to bring about an effect without antecedent determining conditions. Thus, we are brought, not merely to a transcendent cause of the universe, but to its personal creator. "
"Changeless" seems to a gratuitous addition, since whatever caused the universe could be expired now. We could be a one-shot deal, ex nihilo. There really is no telling or saying. Ditto for "timeless". If time began, then there would have been some process for bringing it into existence. Of which we know nothing at all, expecially if it had some other version of "time". Thinking about time's relativity is hard enough. Thinking about its absence is quite another level!
Anyhow, I am sympathetic to the mystery of cosmic origins, but honestly, it should be left to professionals, who have, after all, gotten us to within nanoseconds of the blessed event, which is far more than Craig and his intellectual forebears / colleagues have to their credit. As far as I can see, he is just blowing alot of rhetorical smoke.
wbeulite,
ReplyDelete>> I don't think anyone sees William Lane Craig as a actual scholar. He is more of a performer.<<
Craig's KCA may be dead wrong, but he has a Ph.D. and he has published in several well-respected peer-reviewed journals. He has contributed to philosophy of time and science. He *is* a scholar.
Just because you disagree with his KCA does make him less of a scholar.
For the record, I think Craig is mistaken on many issues. e.g. I think his moral argument for theism begs the question. But I still recognize his status as a scholar.
Are you a scholar? If not, can we ignore your arguments?
oops. Should read "does not* make him less of a scholar"
ReplyDeleteEric
ReplyDeleteThe interesting thing to me about the dog example is not that these are different interpretations of the facts, but rather they are guesses about unknown facts. This is something humans have to do all the time because very little in our life is amenable to carefully controlled repeatable experiment, we're making it up in real time.
I like Stanislavsky's notion of superobjectives (this being from the field of drama) where the actor is asked to understand their feelings and actions in terms of the thing that is really driving their behaviour. A strong case might be made in debates such as these that we differ not because of differences in world views so much as differences in our superobjectives. Do we gather to argue, to conquer, to listen, to learn, to synthesise, to alleviate boredom, to protect... Were an actor asked to breathe life into the lines written on this blog this is the first question they would seek to answer for each of the participants. What are they after here?
There is an interesting link to evolution here, insomuch as there is speculation that the great reproductive/survival advantage of a sense of self is the ability to conceive of other selves as motivated players, and this interpretative shorthand is a tremendously efficient method of anticipating the actions of those around us. The implication is that a sense of self is more likely to evolve as social settings become more complex and the premium on such anticipatory acumen rises.
Bernard
Bernard,
ReplyDeleteWith respect to this: "The interesting thing to me about the dog example is not that these are different interpretations of the facts, but rather they are guesses about unknown facts."
What I'd say is that these are different interpretations of the facts BASED on guesses about the unknown facts. But given the way we actually work, it might actually be better to say that the postulates about the unknowns emerge OUT of the narrative we weave around the known facts. That is, the narrative is a way of seeing a set of facts that requires postulating other facts. We begin with a set of known facts and, AS we weave them together into a coherent story, the nature of the story calls certain other things being the case which we are unable to check on (including, in the dog stories, things about the dog's inner motivations and what my sister would have done under conditions different from those that actually obstained).
Eric
ReplyDeleteYes, I agree. This is very much a habit of the mind, to weave the story and then look to fill in the gaps as best it can.
A strong example for me as a new father is in the field of well meaning but at times quite mad advice people offer on child rearing. Having brought up children themselves, and with such strong emotional investment in the narrative surrounding their own performance as parents, the gap filling can at times be startling. Solemn advice on exactly the way a child should be held when burping, or the precise sequence in which various solid foods should be introduced to the diet, as if any deviance from this path will spell certain ruin. An ethically dubious industry has sprung up to exploit this narrative of middle class paranoia.
How I wish to embrace those who simply shrug and say 'who knows, all kids are different and most of them settle down in time, the process is immensely complicated but fortunately reasonably robust, relax and enjoy them.'
So, there is an argument that this habit of narrative building should be examined from a sceptical perspective. Sure, dine out on the story of the life saving dog, it's a good tale. But to go to the next step and actually believe one of the versions is the cast iron truth of the matter is potentially unhelpful.
I think this is a good way of seeing the naturalist/agnostic project, not as an attempt to deny the importance of story, but as an ambition to remember always that that's just what they are, make do constructions.
Bernard
Bernard and Eric,
ReplyDelete"I think this is a good way of seeing the naturalist/agnostic project, not as an attempt to deny the importance of story, but as an ambition to remember always that that's just what they are, make do constructions."
I hate to beat a dead horse, but I will point this out again: The assertion, such, that we need to remember these stories are constructions is, in itself, part of a construction, a story, a narrative of what one thinks is really "true" and thus the thing (moral of the story so to speak) we need to remember and hold on to.
As such, it misses the greater point, which is, that it is the narrative or story that is really true. It is what makes a fact or series of events meaningful or significant. Again, going to the gun example, what is “true” is not my knowing how a gun works and being able to take it a part, clean it, and reassemble it--the bare facts so to speak. What is true is my knowing all that but also knowing not to shoot it toward a house full of people. That is what is “true” and that type of knowing involves a narrative about the importance of life.
Eric, I wonder if it would be helpful to interact with this paper by a geologist: http://www.phil.unt.edu/people/faculty/bios/Frodeman/Frodeman-GeoReasoning.pdf Even if we don't want to use this, I would encourage Bernard and JP to read it closely--it goes to much of what I have been trying to say.
It goes to many of the areas in this discussion and amazingly, does it in an area (geology) that one might think could hardly be talked about as a narrative.
As a side note, I think it ironic that some here have been keen on some of Anthony Flew's arguments, when he has since renounced his atheism.
Dear Darrell,
ReplyDelete[quote]
I hate to beat a dead horse, but I will point this out again: The assertion, such, that we need to remember these stories are constructions is, in itself, part of a construction, a story, a narrative of what one thinks is really "true" and thus the thing (moral of the story so to speak) we need to remember and hold on to.
[/quote]
I would recommend an excellent work by Joseph Campbell http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Campbell called _The Masks of God_ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Campbell#The_Masks_of_God which is an extremely popular and well written series on which explains a great deal on how we created that narrative.
It's in 4 volumes (very short easily held and read paperbacks)
The Masks of God, Vol. 1: Primitive Mythology
http://www.amazon.com/Masks-God-Vol-Primitive-Mythology/dp/0140194436
The Masks of God, Vol. 2: Oriental Mythology
http://www.amazon.com/Masks-God-Vol-Oriental-Mythology/dp/0140194428
The Masks of God, Vol. 3: Occidental Mythology
http://www.amazon.com/Masks-God-Vol-Occidental-Mythology/dp/014019441X
The Masks of God, Vol. 4: Creative Mythology
http://www.amazon.com/Masks-God-Vol-Creative-Mythology/dp/0140194401
I would highly recommend them as probably in the top ten books I have ever read. And explain how mankind created their mythologies.
This is also a topic I am interested in, if anyone wants to contact me for additional conversations.
Cheers! webulite.com
Hi Darrell
ReplyDeleteAs always, this comes down to language doesn't it? What appears to be empirically true is that different people have different narratives. So a statement to this effect is not in itself narrative dependent, we can go out and test it.
We will all agree on how a gun works, but I am claiming we will disagree on the various circumstances in which it might be okay to own, point or shoot one. So, whether or not we're comfortable using a word like truth for both these ideas (I'd rather avoid the word truth in both cases) there does appear to be a different sort of existence being referenced.
Now, the only thing I am trying to point out is that when someone says 'I believe there is a God' some people are going to misinterpret that statement if it is meant only to describe a world view, equivalent to 'I believe we shouldn't shoot animals' and not a fact of existence, equivalent to 'I believe the sun exists.' Many people hearing the God statement will assume it's of the second type, and so a whole round of misunderstanding will begin, where they will challenge you over evidence, accuse you of simple minded beliefs you don't hold, I'm sure you know the whole routine.
If we are careful with our language in this area, and maybe I need a better word than story because it seems to invite similar misunderstanding, then we can finally get on to the fun stuff, which is why we choose the particular constructions we have plumped for.
Bernard
Darrell
ReplyDeleteThanks for the geology link by the way. A great article, I really enjoyed it. It will not surprise you that my take on it is a little different from yours, but I love the philosophy of science and this brought together many of my favourite themes.
I remember when I first read Kuhn, feeling almost disappointed that what he was saying seemed far less incendiary than I had been led to believe. I think this may be because I came to him via Popper, so the idea that science was capable of uncovering some deeper truth was already off the table.
In New Zealand there is a fascinating debate going on between a geologist I know and the geneticists I once worked with, and it in part highlights the different ways geologists and biologists go about their work. The question is whether, since breaking away from Gondwanaland, the NZ continent has been completely submerged. The geologist is raising the heretical possibility that it was, meaning all our flora and fauna are recent arrivals, and the biologists are claiming in return that gene sequences are showing too much divergence to support recent splits.
What I love about science though is that this issue will in time be resolved. The evidence is going to pile up one way or the other and the other side will back down (or eventually die, as one wag, I forget who, once described it).
The most provocative statement in that article for me is the Kuhnian claim that sometimes a scientific claim can't be resolved without appealing first to competing narratives, the example being having to choose between logical consistency and predictive power. My argument against this, very briefly, is that when such resolution is impossible, we are perfectly capable of leaving the issue marked as unresolved, whilst working on finding the theory that might break the impasse. This, it seems to me, is exactly the case with Quantum Physics at the moment.
A last thought. My training is in economics, a field where strict scientific methods can not be employed. Nevertheless the knowledge gained is crucial to our well being. (It was once described wonderfully as 'the science of muddling through'). So, I would never argue that non-scientific knowledge is useless. It has incredible pragmatic value. Try using science to choose a partner for life. I am however interested in chasing down what type of knowledge theistic knowledge is, and what people mean by some of its claims.
Bernard
Bernard,
ReplyDelete“As always, this comes down to language doesn't it? What appears to be empirically true is that different people have different narratives. So a statement to this effect is not in itself narrative dependent, we can go out and test it.”
But that was not the point of what you were saying. Of course we all agree it is empirically true that people have different narratives. Your statement seemed directed otherwise than to just point out that people view things differently.
Allow me to quote you again:
"I think this is a good way of seeing the naturalist/agnostic project, not as an attempt to deny the importance of story, but as an ambition to remember always that that's just what they are, make do constructions."
You are stating that the “ambition” should be to “see” these different narratives in a certain way, as “constructions.” That is quite different than simply noting that people have different narratives. They indeed are constructions, but they are constructed out of the facts and evidence, our experience of the world, history, and many other factors, but they are what each of us really believe to be the case or an accurate “telling” of what we really think about the world and the “truth” of the world. Whether it is the naturalist “story” or the Christian one, each believes it to be an accurate and truthful telling of what is true about our selves and the physical world.
By asserting what our “ambition” should be and by asserting how we should “see” these narratives, you are indeed asserting a narrative yourself. This constant attempt on the part of naturalists to exempt themselves and to privilege their own narrative is exactly the problem I am trying to point out. It simply will not do.
As to the essay on geology, I’m happy you liked it but can you address the matter of it contradicting and sort of exposing the very arguments you have been making in these conversations? I would say that you, JP, and Burk have definitely been coming at these issues from the Analytical school of thought, which he basically takes to task as certainly not the best way to approach, not only his area of expertise, but any area of knowledge. Do you disagree he does that? He seems to be agreeing with Eric in many ways, do you see that?
By the way, I have posted on my own blog some of my thoughts about the essay and I have also quoted some key parts of the essay.
to start to understand the narratives that we create, a very good series is _the masks of god_ by joseph campbell;
ReplyDeleteThe Masks of God, Vol. 1: Primitive Mythology http://www.amazon.com/Masks-God-Vol-Primitive-Mythology/dp/0140194436
The Masks of God, Vol. 2: Oriental Mythology http://www.amazon.com/Masks-God-Vol-Oriental-Mythology/dp/0140194428
The Masks of God, Vol. 3: Occidental Mythology http://www.amazon.com/Masks-God-Vol-Occidental-Mythology/dp/014019441X
The Masks of God, Vol. 4: Creative Mythology http://www.amazon.com/Masks-God-Vol-Creative-Mythology/dp/0140194401
cheers! webulite.com
Hi Darrell
ReplyDeleteWhen I speak of this being a good way of seeing the naturalist project, I'm not assuming others should see it that way too. It's just an interesting idea to play around with. That's what ideas are to me, possibilities, which does link directly to the idea that our narratives vary considerably, whereas our grasp of facts don't tend to.
I think the point you make here:
'but they are what each of us really believe to be the case or an accurate “telling” of what we really think about the world and the “truth” of the world.'
captures very well the difference between our views.
I don't have any sense of what an accurate telling of the world would look like. I happily admit I have no idea, but sort of enjoy the process of playing around with options. For this reason, you'll not find me accusing others of foolishness for seeing things differently.
Occasionally, on a good day, I'll hit upon an observation or idea that seems worth pursuing. I think the observation that we all agree on the facts of the world might, with a little careful thought, tell us something too about the nature of the method by which we uncover such facts. I also think that the observation that we all build such different narratives about our facts might be able tell us something useful about the nature of these narratives.
Personally speaking, seeing other people take facts in such different directions than I would encourages me not to trust my own world view much at all. So I like to probe, wonder, and yes, argue, mostly to see if other people's points of view have bits I'd like to borrow. people who do things differently and assert, as you seem to, that a world view can uncover some deep truth about the world, puzzle me, and so I'm trying to better understand that. I think you see me as far more definite about things than I am, and my communication style may be to blame.
Let me address the issue of the analytical approach to the philosophy separately.
Bernard
Darrell
ReplyDeleteMy take on the philosophy of science is strongly influenced by Karl Popper. I don't agree with all his stuff but I am particularly interested in the emphasis he puts on falsifiability, and the subsequent divisions between Popper and Kuhn on this and related matters.
Briefly, I think the so-called contradiction between continental and analytical approaches is a false dichotomy. I don't know anybody who believes there is no narrative building in the business of doing science. Scientists guess, daydream, hope, interpret, assume, compete... the whole nine yards. Of course they do. They are human beings engaged in a quintessentially human activity. And so, as Kuhn would have it, they work within a paradigm that is not of itself a forced move.
But, as Popper claimed, there lies at the heart of scientific progress a key defining feature. Human foibles may produce the work, but it is this business of the testable prediction that ultimately sorts the good from the bad and over time widens our set of accepted facts. So yes, Copernicus offered a new perspective, but it was Galileo's observations that encouraged the leap across to general acceptance. General relativity impressed us with its elegance, but it was the testing of its predictions (most famously the bending of light by the sun's mass) that brought across even the most hardened sceptic. Darwin had perhaps the greatest perspective shifting idea of all, but spent many long years testing some of its implications (how long will a seed remain viable in salt water for example?) Others, quite rightly, needed to see evidence of the mechanisms implied (e.g a mechanism for inheritance) before being swayed. Check out the story of Fresnel's entry into the French Academy's theory of light competition for perhaps the most delightful tale of predictive grunt.
So, while it is absolutely correct that geology requires its own heuristics in order to get the work done, look at the history of continental drift and the discoveries required before it could be fully accepted and you will see, I contend, the continental (sorry) and analytical strands weaving together.
Now, it is a step too far to claim their are no conventions in play in the testing of predictions, inductive reasoning is everybody's favourite, and as Dianelos has pointed out, at some point we tend to jettison explanations that appear so unlikely they feel like special pleading. But even then, note that a stubborn soul who persevered and eventually found a way of testing the unlikely explanation would be attended to. Indeed the history of science has its fair share of such visionaries.
Bernard
Hi Darrell,
ReplyDeleteThanks for the link to Frodeman's text on geology. You imply that I (and others) are “contradicted” by the text – I am puzzled by this. On the whole the article does not strike me as controversial. You will have to point out which part I am expected to disagree with.
You mention the Analytic school of thought. But here I think we need to distinguish what scientists do and believe from what a particular school of philosophy says about it. For instance, the paper, in the discussion on the Analytic school paints a rather restricted view of science. On page 961, it says: Science was thought to consist of an single, identifiable set of logical procedures applicable to all fields of study. I wonder if any scientist worthy of the name ever thought so. Philosophers look at science a posteriori and describe how it seems to work. This may tend to produce a static description of science that minimizes its highly dynamic nature. In a way this is similar to music theoreticians of old who came up with a complete theory of fugal compositions just before Bach came on the scene and broke every rule in the book. Great scientists, like great composers, will do whatever it takes – even if it requires developing entirely new methods.
There are a few points it would be interesting to discuss. For example, there is an extensive discussion in the text (page 964) about how context determines what research will be pursued and which theories will be developed. Again you would be hard pressed to find a scientist who disagrees with this. But then the author seems to imply that the resulting theories will be less objective. I wonder – is this a confusion between completeness and objectivity or a do I misunderstand what is meant by “objectivity”?
[...]
[...]
ReplyDeleteThere is also all this talk about “different ways of knowing”. Now, this is a tricky and very interesting one and I suspect much of the disagreements arise from different definitions of the word “knowledge”. If we use it very freely and want to talk of “moral knowledge” and include such things as “the fish knows how to swim”, this is one thing. But I would rather formulate the issue as “how do we acquire reliable knowledge about reality?” I would not talk of “moral knowledge” because I take it to be subjective but, even it we suppose that morality comes in an absolute variety, how can we know, reliably, what is right or wrong?
We know that an evidence-based approach (generally speaking, a “scientific” approach) can provide reliable knowledge. Do we know of any other method that has been shown to be reliable? This would be very useful and I am all for it. But I don't know of any such thing.
Bernard and JP,
ReplyDeleteI’m glad you found little to disagree with as to Frodeman’s essay. So, when he sums up the school of thought (Analytical) he disagrees with here:
“First, the scientific method is objective. This means that the discovery of scientific truth can and must be separate from any personal, ethical/political, or metaphysical commitments. This is the basis of the celebrated fact/value distinction, which holds that the facts discovered by the scientist are quite distinct from whatever values he or she might hold. Personal or cultural values must not enter into the scientific reasoning process.”
“Second, the scientific method is empirical. Science is built upon a rigorous distinction between observations (which again were understood, at least ideally, as being factual and unequivocal) and theory. Facts themselves were not theory-dependent; observation was thought to be a matter of ‘‘taking a good look.’’ The distinction between statements that describe and statements that evaluate was viewed as unproblematic.”
…then we all agree that the view of science he is describing here (and in the entire essay) is not helpful and certainly not the best way to think about science or what it does. I'm glad to hear it.
Bernard and JP,
ReplyDeleteI will also assume since you saw little contradiction or problems with Frodeman's essay that you agree with his taking the continental side when he writes:
“The claims of Continental Philosophy—the other main school of contemporary philosophy—concerning science can also be summarized in two points: (1) whereas science offers us a powerful tool for the discovery of truth, science is not the only, or even necessarily the best way that humans come to know reality, and (2) the existence of ‘‘the’’ scientific method (understood as
above) is a myth. Science has neither the priority in the discovery of truth, nor the unity and cohesiveness of one identifiable method, nor the distance from ethical, epistemological, and metaphysical commitments that Analytic philosophy claims it has.”
Hi Darrell
ReplyDeleteI agree with the second point there (the talk of a single scientific method is a gross oversimplification) but disagree with the first, for the reasons I've been through. The method of discovery is often highly subjective, but the method by which theories become verified and so entrenched remains uniquely objective. This is as true for geology as any other science, and I gave the establishment of plate techtonics as an example. Do you disagree?
Bernard
I am not sure Frodeman agrees entirely with either the analytic or the continental schools. He describes what seems to me to be the extreme positions of each and then goes on saying he wants to use the approach and concepts of the continental school, which may mean a number of things.
ReplyDeletePutting that aside, here's my take on some of this.
The scientific method [...]
I don't think there is such a thing as THE scientific method (a fixed set of methods and techniques defining what scientist may do) and I don't think any scientist of real standing would say such a thing. This is a simplistic idea. Who came up with this?
[...] is objective [...] the discovery of scientific truth can and must be separate from any personal, ethical/political, or metaphysical commitments.
It is clear that the process of discovery (choosing problem, trying different approaches, understanding a situation this way or that way, thinking of experiments, and so on) is influenced by context (as I said before). But, when all this is said and done, the result of this process is objective. If not, you have to explain to me how the theory of gravitation is culture-dependent.
The text names Russell as one who held such views but I find it very hard to believe that he would not make a simple distinction between the business of discovery and the eventual demonstration of the truth of a scientific theory. Something is fishy here.
Facts themselves were not theory-dependent [...]
This is one of your favorite themes. But, tell me, what does it mean to say that facts ARE theory-dependent? Saying that the fact “fire burns” is theory-dependent does not make sense at all. I think that those who say this have in mind something different from what the words actually mean. They may fail to distinguish between a fact, or an observation, and its role in supporting a theory (where it gets its meaning).
Now, as to the continental school. I understand this is a two-paragraph summary of an extensive philosophy but... I would very much like to know what they mean by a better way than science to know reality – with valid reasons to think that this other way is really better.
Bernard and JP,
ReplyDeleteI'm currently on the road. You both raise good points. I will try and respond soon.
Bernard,
ReplyDeleteWell, I would assume Frodeman knows something about plate tectonics too and he still wrote this essay. I think you are still assuming that somehow talk of hermeneutics means that the sun could be hot for one person, but not the other. No one, not Frodeman, or anyone else I know of is saying any such thing.
I think he addresses your point here:
“It is often claimed that, no matter what assumptions or goals we begin with, the scientific method will eventually bring us to the same final understanding of objective reality. Hermeneutics argues otherwise: our original goals and assumptions result in certain facts being discovered rather than others, which in turn lead to new avenues of research and sets of facts.”
He goes on:
“…Thus, for a truth claim to count as scientific, a scientist in Oslo must be able to reproduce results identical to those of the original experimenter in Seattle. In this sense, time and history have no place in the experimental sciences…
“…Of course, in another sense time and history are an inescapable part of every science; a chemical reaction takes time to complete, and every chemical reaction is historical in that it has some feature, no matter how insignificant, that distinguishes it from every other reaction. But our "interest" in chemical reactions typically is not in chronicling the specific historical conditions that affect a given reaction, but rather in abstracting a general or ideal truth about a given class of chemical reactions.”
And here is the difference I think you are missing. We could use this same example he speaks of as far as chemical reactions to plate tectonics. Observation and testing is objective (in a sense at least) and can be replicated and there is a base-line objectivity to this process, but such is never our final “interest” as he puts it. As with all scientific endeavors, our interest is in abstracting a general or ideal truth. In other words it does no good to keep noting things like we all know the stove is hot or the earth round, our interest is always in the summing up, the abstracting out of all such “facts” a general or ideal truth.
Does this help?
JP,
ReplyDelete“I am not sure Frodeman agrees entirely with either the analytic or the continental schools. He describes what seems to me to be the extreme positions of each and then goes on saying he wants to use the approach and concepts of the continental school, which may mean a number of things.”
Well he doesn’t agree with the Analytical School—that is the very reason for his paper. I also don't think he is describing either school in the "extreme"; he is describing them accurately by their own admissions. He most certainly agrees (this is from the first two pages) with the Continental School or at least thinks it the more accurate way to proceed:
“I believe that the received view of geology as outlined above (Analytical School) is mistaken. My interest as a philosopher is in challenging the assumption that geology is merely applied and imprecise physics, vainly attempting to achieve the latter’s degree of resolution and predictability. Rather, I believe that the challenges and difficulties inherent to geological reasoning have prompted geologists to develop a variety of reasoning techniques that are quite similar to some of those described and used within Continental Philosophy. My claim, then, is that geological reasoning consists of a combination of logical procedures. Some of these it shares with the experimental sciences, while others are more typical of the humanities in general and Continental Philosophy in particular.”
“I don't think there is such a thing as THE scientific method (a fixed set of methods and techniques defining what scientist may do) and I don't think any scientist of real standing would say such a thing. This is a simplistic idea. Who came up with this?”
Ummm, basically the Analytical School did. What he is describing, if you study the history of the philosophy of science, is fairly accurate as to how that school and the figures associated with it thought about the scientific method.
[...] is objective [...] the discovery of scientific truth can and must be separate from any personal, ethical/political, or metaphysical commitments.
“It is clear that the process of discovery (choosing problem, trying different approaches, understanding a situation this way or that way, thinking of experiments, and so on) is influenced by context (as I said before). But, when all this is said and done, the result of this process is objective. If not, you have to explain to me how the theory of gravitation is culture-dependent.”
But he is not saying that the process comes up with a result that says something like gravity doesn’t exist for me. That is to entirely miss his point. He is saying that when we begin to organize our facts (gravity; the earth is round) into the entire puzzle of what we are to make of our world in a “big-picture” sense we are now into metaphysics and philosophy. We are not simply just stating the “facts.”
Facts themselves were not theory-dependent [...]
“This is one of your favorite themes. But, tell me, what does it mean to say that facts ARE theory-dependent? Saying that the fact “fire burns” is theory-dependent does not make sense at all.”
Because in a conversation like this one or in any serious conversation, no one just says “fire burns.” The moment we begin to articulate, explain, elaborate, unpack, connect, and weave such observations into a greater whole (in other words, the moment we start speaking or writing) it all becomes theory-laden.
I would encourage you to read the essay again, because I think he does a pretty good job of answering most of your questions or at least shedding light. I can’t in this small space add much more, without quoting his entire essay! Anyway, I hope this helped somewhat.
Bernard and JP,
ReplyDeleteOne other point to my referencing the Frodeman essay. The discussion we are having here on this blog is not new. We are playing out, to some extent, the debate between those two schools. Something to consider is where that debate has been going and why.
Hi Darrell
ReplyDeleteI replied to this but the comment's been dropped off so I'll try again. This conversation shows promise of becoming endless, we continue to cover the same ground which suggests we are somehow talking past each other. I will try a method Dianelos uses well, which is to set out a series of statements summarising my point of view, and you can identify where in amongst it our difference is.
1. Some things we all accept are facts. e.g the earth is round.
2. Science is a process whereby the range of accepted facts is extended over time.
3. The success of this extension is evidenced in the workings of technology e.g the chemotherapy that has recently saved my nephew's life.
4. Scientists use a range of tricks to form their hypotheses. There is no set method, anything that works will be considered. Much of this work is hence coloured by tastes, experiences and inclinations.
5. The process whereby a hypothesis is tested is however objective. A hypothesis becomes accepted at the point whereby its predictive capacity is verified e.g General relativity and the light bending effects of gravity.
6. There is no other known method by which new facts can be established.
7. There are however many other ways of gaining useful knowledge about our world e.g literature deepens our understanding of the human condition by broadening our experiences and observations.
8. Our non-factual knowledge, e.g ethical and aesthetic judgements, educated guesses etc, have a flexibility that facts do not have. Two people facing the same situation can draw different conclusions.
9. This ability to differ despite having used the same evidence and even rules of reasoning means that we can say such knowledge is true for ourselves, but should not say it is generally true, as to do so is prioritise our own world view over the views of others without having established any objective criteria for doing so.
This pretty much sums up for me the guts of the naturalist project that you appear to object to. I don't think there's anything in the geology article that would run counter to any of these points. And so I am eager to see exactly where your difference lies.
Thanks
Bernard
Hi Darrell,
ReplyDeleteI am looking forward to your comment on Bernard's description above - with which I pretty much agree. I don't expect you will object either... Meanwhile, two quick points.
I think one source of confusion here is that the many different aspects of this discussion are often mixed up together so that when one looks at one aspect, the other is considering something else. Sometimes, this happens in a single text. For example, Frodeman (just before reaching the conclusion) has a long paragraph on narratives where he asks “whether scientific explanation itself is dependent on narrative logic”. Then, he goes on to say that “through telling a story, we create a context that defines and gives meaning to our research and data” (followed by the glacier example). Ok, but this story has nothing to do with the scientific explanation itself. Although research will not take place without some motivation (the story) the two are different things altogether. A car will not advance without a driver (mine at least) but it won't do to confuse the two.
You say As with all scientific endeavors, our interest is in abstracting a general or ideal truth. This is a misconception: while this may be the motivation of some scientists this is by no means necessarily the case. For instance, many will say that we can only aim at predicting the results of experiments.
Bernard,
ReplyDeleteIn my view, the first three points are irrelevant—to this discussion anyway—although I am very happy about your nephew.
"4. Scientists use a range of tricks to form their hypotheses. There is no set method, anything that works will be considered. Much of this work is hence coloured by tastes, experiences and inclinations."
Number four is slightly misleading. The theory-laden nature of facts and the establishment of a hypothesis is more than just a matter of taste or inclination as theories go deeper that simply taste or inclination, all though those factors are minor players.
"5. The process whereby a hypothesis is tested is however objective. A hypothesis becomes accepted at the point whereby its predictive capacity is verified e.g General relativity and the light bending effects of gravity."
When something is predicted to happened, based upon other foundational “facts” or other “happenings” and it happens, this may be “objective” but only in the most cursory way. However, the theories that underlay the predictions and the entire frame of reference that led to the thinking, talking, writing, and reflecting about light or relativity were entirely metaphysical, narrative, hermeneutical ways of proceeding.
"6. There is no other known method by which new facts can be established."
If you mean within a metaphysical narrative or a hermeneutical fashion as out-lined by Frodeman, then number six is mostly accurate.
"7. There are however many other ways of gaining useful knowledge about our world e.g literature deepens our understanding of the human condition by broadening our experiences and observations."
This sounds like an attempt again to separate “facts” from other types of knowledge and they are inseparable.
(Continued)
8. Our non-factual knowledge, e.g ethical and aesthetic judgements, educated guesses etc, have a flexibility that facts do not have. Two people facing the same situation can draw different conclusions.
ReplyDeleteNumber eight sounds like you are trying to assert the fact/value distinction; I disagree, like Frodeman, that there is any such thing. As Frodeman notes by citing that view with which he disagrees:
“First, the scientific method is objective. This means that the discovery of scientific truth can and must be separate from any personal, ethical/political, or metaphysical commitments. This is the basis of the celebrated fact/value distinction, which holds that the facts discovered by the scientist are quite distinct from whatever values he or she might hold. Personal or cultural values must not enter into the scientific reasoning process.”
9. This ability to differ despite having used the same evidence and even rules of reasoning means that we can say such knowledge is true for ourselves, but should not say it is generally true, as to do so is prioritise our own world view over the views of others without having established any objective criteria for doing so.
To say “this is what I think all these facts mean in a big-picture significant way,” which is to say in a narrative or hermeneutical fashion doesn’t mean we expect everyone to agree with us, but it is to say that we do think the narrative or world-view we are asserting is true in a universal way. And remember, the naturalist does this too. He asserts a way of thinking about the world that he believes is true for everyone.
“This pretty much sums up for me the guts of the naturalist project that you appear to object to. I don't think there's anything in the geology article that would run counter to any of these points.”
Frankly, I think Frodeman’s entire essay runs counter to most of these points. I would challenge you to re-read it.
I think I have said about as much as I can say in this area at this point in this confined space. I would also point you to this link for more in this same area: http://www.abc.net.au/religion/articles/2010/09/15/3012816.htm?topic1=&topic2= Otherwise, I am happy to let Eric take the lead here.
JP,
ReplyDelete“…Ok, but this story has nothing to do with the scientific explanation itself. Although research will not take place without some motivation (the story) the two are different things altogether. A car will not advance without a driver (mine at least) but it won't do to confuse the two.”
Well, Frodeman is asserting, and I agree, that any scientific explanation that goes beyond stating things like “the sun is hot” or the “earth is round” is impossible without a metaphysical narrative or hermeneutical framing.
“You say As with all scientific endeavors, our interest is in abstracting a general or ideal truth. This is a misconception: while this may be the motivation of some scientists this is by no means necessarily the case. For instance, many will say that we can only aim at predicting the results of experiments.”
I would challenge you to pick up any standard college level text-book that is either a philosophy of science text or a standard introduction to science text that does not at some point abstract out general or ideal truths. Please point me to one. This isn’t a conversation about what a few scientists might predict as to some experiments somewhere. This is a big-picture philosophical conversation and as such always deals with abstractions of general or ideal truths.
Hi Darrell,
ReplyDeleteThanks for you comments. Some of the disagreement here maybe only apparent.
[...] any scientific explanation [...] is impossible without a metaphysical narrative or hermeneutical framing.
I think you bundle together (and maybe Frodeman as well) two very different things: the end result (a scientific theory) and the path taken to get there. While some paths may involve an hermeneutical framing, or whatever, the resulting scientific theory does not. I am not ready to say that all paths to discovery are as you describe – this is a very strong claim.
As another example, mathematical discovery involve intuition in a big way. However, intuitions are totally absent from any resulting mathematical theory.
I would challenge you [...]
This may illustrate a difference between actual scientific practice and what (some) philosophers of science say it is and, also, with the description of science in textbooks.
It is no doubt true that philosophers are after “truth” in some general sense (at least, this is how it seems to me). It is also no doubt true that, as part of their individual inclinations, many scientists do the same.
What I claim is that this is not a necessary feature of science at all. I don't think Feynman or Hawking, to name two minor figures, would put it Ă la philosopher's manner. They might insist that what counts is the predictive power of scientific theory. “Ideal Truth” in some sense might be a bonus but it seems too elusive and ill-defined.
An interesting question for me is the following: if we cannot get to this “Ideal Truth” through science (in the general sense in which I use the term), what reasons do we have to believe that it can be achieved otherwise?
Darrell
ReplyDeleteAs best I can see then, our disagreement hinges on a single point.
I say there are statements that are factual, like the sun is hot, and you agree. I then make the step to say there are statements that are non-factual, like 'Tom Waits is a genius' and again you appear to agree that this is a non-factual statement, a matter of my own personal taste.
I then say, well if there are factual and non-factual statements, then we can call these different types of statements, and here you tell me I am not allowed to distinguish between the two. That this distinction is somehow false, because Frodeman says so. Quite apart from the fact that I don't think Frodeman does say this, where is the logical misstep you think I am making? Some statements have been tested in the fire of falsifiability, and some haven't. Those that have we all agree are facts. Why can I not use some terms (and I'm flexible on the words you prefer) for this distinction?
Finally, I shall try to point out one more time that for an agnostic there is no sense that we are saying, here is a world view that I think is true. We are claiming truth only for the personal statement 'I have no idea what it all means'. And I don't, largely because nobody's managed to convince me how such a meaning could be reliably constructed.
Bernard