Facebook

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Darwin, Metaphysics, and Natural Kinds: What is a Species?


Samir Okasha's Darwinian Metaphysics: Species and the Question of Essentialism

Key terms
Intrinsic property: the necessary property/ies that make a thing what it is.   Usually it is considered to be part of the things microstructure but not necessarily.  E.g. An intrinsic property of a car is that it has 4 wheels and an engine. An intrinsic property of water is that its chemical structure is H20.
Essentialism (about kinds):  The idea that things have essences that make them what they are.  This is often used interchangeably with intrinsic property.  For example, what makes the kind 'dog' is that all dogs have the essence of "doggyness".  This could also be explained by properties like characteristic behaviours, DNA, or form.  Aristotle classically declared that the essence of 'man' is rational thought.

Introduction
In virtue of what is my wiener dog a member of Canis familiaris? Is there some intrinsic essential property that he and all other members of the species posses? It seems like there is so much variation between 'breeds' that it'd be difficult to find a group of properties that all dogs have.
Okasha takes essentialism to be the position of Kripke, Putnam, and Wiggins—i.e., that the concept of kind essentialism used in the hard sciences also applies to biological kinds. Okasha suggests Putnam and Kripke (PK) are mistaken to apply their brand of essentialism to biological kinds because (a) of facts about evolutionary biology that don't apply to the hard sciences, and (b) the purpose of classification in biology is different from that in the hard sciences. However, it is not all doom and gloom for the PK model: if instead of demarcating kinds according to intrinsic properties we use relational properties, aspects of the PK model can be salvaged.

Philosophical roots and overview of the Putnam/Kripke (PK) Essentialism
The philosophical origins of the PK essentialist model can be traced back to Locke's distinction between the nominal and real essence of a kind. The nominal essences are the macro-properties of an object that we pick out to determine the group to into which we place it. The standard example is that the nominal essence of gold is that it is shiny, metallic, yellow, and malleable. The particular properties we settle on to define kinds are conventional; that is, they are not dependant on anything intrinsic to the particular things we are classifying, rather they are selected based on utility and/or accidental facts about our perceptual system. For example, we could have grouped objects according to gross size and texture, but this would not have served any useful purpose.
In contrast to nominal essence there is the real essence which is the (intrinsic) hidden underlying microstructure which is causally responsible for nominal essences. If we could access the real essence of objects, we'd be able to group them according to their intrinsic properties/”hidden structure” and therefore their metaphysically real (as opposed to conventional) kinds. Locke didn't anticipate our having “microscopic eyes” to actually identify real essences, so he supposed all kinds would be nominal.
Of course, science has progressed to the point in the hard sciences where microstructure can be identified, as so objects can be classified according to (real) kind. PK natural kinds emerge out of this reality. The standard examples of PK essentialist kinds are “gold is having the atomic number 79” and “water is having the chemical composition H20”. So, determining whether something is a kind is an empirical matter. For example, to determine whether H20 is a kind is a matter of verifying that all samples of water have the molecular structure H201.
Another important way the PK model diverges from Locke is over the “semantic inertness” of real essence. Whereas Locke thought that speakers when using kind terms were only referring to nominal kinds, PK hold that even without knowledge of real properties speakers imply that their kind-terms refer to the real properties causally responsible for the observed properties2. There is little disagreement that this model applies to chemistry, however, the debate between PK and Okasha is about whether we can extend the “hidden microstructure” model of kinds to biological kinds.

Arguments Against Using the PK Model for Biological Kinds
Okasha suggests two main lines of argument that lessen the probability that PK essentialist notion of kinds is applicable to evolutionary biology. The first line of argument is empirical which can be generally framed by referring back to Locke's observation that there is no principled way to distinguish between accidental and intrinsic qualities. Given that evolutionary theory doesn't restrict the possibility of changes (i.e., mutations, meiosis, and genetic recombinations) to any aspect of an group of organisms' phenotypic or genetic properties, it seems unlikely that a kind could have an immutable intrinsic essence. With no necessary enduring intrinsic property (that isn't also shared by other kinds), what type of property could defines the kind?
A loose analogy to illustrate the problem would be to try to classify liquids according to their shape; obviously, it will change depending on its environment. Another problem with biological kinds that arises out of empirical considerations is that often intra-species genetic and phenotypic differences can be greater than (closely related) inter-species differences. So, if there can be more differences within a kind than without, on what grounds can we construct kinds that are based on common intrinsic properties?
The conceptual argument again relates back to Locke's operationalism. Even if a set of (genetic/phenotypic/genotypic) properties were shared by all members of a kind and by no non-members, we would not consider having these internal properties necessary to membership. Suppose two members of a species produce an offspring lacking in one of the essential properties. We would probably still group the offspring with its parents.
So, it looks like the (internal) essentialist model for kinds doesn't fit well with the ephemeral nature of species in evolutionary biology. Should we then completely abandon the PK model in relation to biology? Okasha suggests that the PK model is still applicable to biological kinds so long as we relinquish the requirement that essential properties of kinds be intrinsic and instead replace them with relational properties.

Relational Kinds: Retooling the PK Model for Biology
A Relational property in this context means the essential property relates x to other xs. The relation is the property that tells us “in virtue of what organism x is a member of kind y”. In addition, an essential relational property cannot be shared by non-xs. Biologists use four basic relational properties to define species concepts: phenetic, interbreeding, ecological niche, and phylogenetic. While all 4 methods have their weaknesses, the phenetic concept is considered the weakest because it suffers from the same problems as internal essentialist concepts. Furthermore, a peculiarity of the relational species concepts is that two organisms could be molecule for molecule duplicates, but if they don't the share the relational kind property, they are considered to be of different species3.
Is this a big problem? I'm not sure. We could defend the relational view and say that there is an extremely low likelihood of there being two or more co-existing molecule for molecule duplicates that don't bear the same kind relation so we shouldn't worry about this problem. On the other hand, maybe the existence of the logical possibility of this counter-intuitive outcome of relational kinds is evidence of a problem. The reply to this worry is that just because the logical consequence of the relational-concept kind is counter-intuitive doesn't mean there's a problem—it only tells us something about our intuitions. There is no logical problem with relational kinds so long as we can accept the counter-intuitive consequence, so we shouldn't worry.
It seems that with the substitution of relational for intrinsic properties, the PK model can be applied to biological kinds after all. The PK model can maintain the semantic role of kinds terms because now we can say that speakers who use the terms are intending to refer to some essential property beyond superficial appearances. Unfortunately, the applicability ends here because the PK model also implies that the essential property of a kind (its hidden structure) is also causally responsible for its superficial properties. While this is true of chemical kinds, this isn't necessarily the case for biological kinds. An organism's belonging to a particular chunk of the genealogical nexus (or occupying an ecological niche, etc...) isn't the proximal cause of its superficial properties—there is only an indirect causal relationship.
For these reasons Okasha concludes that the PK model is only half-right when applied to biological kinds. On the PK model essences play both a semantic and causal/explanatory role, but “there is no a priori reason why the same thing should play both of these roles4.” While I agree with Okasha here I think there is something a little disconcerting about decoupling these two roles. It appears we lose a degree of objectivity and predictive power.

The Purpose of Kinds and Worries About Decoupling Essences from Causal/Explanatory Roles
The fact that there are so many different species-concepts can raise worries about conventionalism. Why should we consider one species-concept over another? Consider that mammals are often grouped according to either phylogenetic or breeding or ecological niche concepts but bacteria are grouped according to degree of variability in section (?) 16 of sRNA. If one strand of bacteria has greater that 1% variability from its “parent” strand then it is considered to be a new species of bacteria5. Clearly, biologists are picking and choosing their species concepts based on what is useful to their research aims (and contingent upon the sophistication of their measurement techniques). If biologist were really classifying according to essential kinds, why isn't there just one concept of species?
This isn't necessarily a problem, but seems there is a lot more lateral flexibility in relational kinds than there is with intrinsic kinds, such as in chemistry. That is to say, organisms can be grouped into kinds various different ways at the same “level of grain”, whereas the microstructure of chemical kinds is more restrictive in respect to method of classifying at that grain. Furthermore, it seems that organizing according to intrinsic properties provides a greater ability to make predictions about the properties of kind than you might make with relational kinds in biology. However, given the nature of evolutionary biology, I'm not sure there is a choice in the matter since--as has been shown--defining biological kinds according to intrinsic properties is a non-starter.
This brings us head to head with the final issue I wish to discuss: what is the purpose of a classificatory system? On the PK model it seems that the implicit answer to this question is that kinds are meant to be scientifically useful; viz, “to provide the greatest possible predictively useful generalizations6”. Predictively useful generalizations usually require we know something about the kind's causal structure. But in biology we don't have this information, nor do we need it because it has a different purpose of classification.
The purpose of classification (i.e., species concepts) in biology is to identify “units which we believe play an important role in the evolutionary process7”. Of course, knowing an organism's species (defined in one of the relational concepts) does provide the ability to make predictions about behaviour and morphology, but, again, this is not the primary purpose of having the classification.

Concluding Thoughts
To conclude I think it's interesting to consider how species concepts are defined and why one would be used over another in a particular situation. There seems to be an interesting reciprocal relationship between the empirical and the analytic concepts. The species concepts are analytic but they are informed by empirical considerations. Consider the breeding concept. Certainly, whether one group breeds with another is a matter of empirical observation but the decision to define a kind based on a particular concept of inter-breeding rather than another is analytic. However, that particular kind concept will also have been shaped by past empirical observations. At some point, the biologist has to “break in” with a an imperfect concept. The relationship between the analytic and synthetic in the context of natural kinds is something I'm interested in exploring more, so I encourage comments on this issue!


1Okasha, p. 193.
2Ibid, p. 195.
3Ibid, p. 201.
4Ibid, p. 203.
5Chana Palmer-Davis, world famous geneticist and my sister.
6Ibid, p. 209.
7Ibid.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Mill's Utilitarianism Part 3: Proof of the Principle of Utilitarianism

Mill's Utilitarianism, Chapter IV:  Of What Sort of Proof the Principle of Utility is Susceptible

Note: For criticisms of Mill's Proof see my later posts "Sidgwick's Criticisms of Mill's Proof" and "Moore's Criticisms of Mill's Proof"

Favorite Quote: "...[Virtue] may be felt a good in itself, and desired as such with as great intensity as any other good; and with these differences between it and the love of money, of power, or of fame--that all of these may, and often do, render the individual noxious to the other members of society to which he belongs, whereas there is nothing which makes him so much a blessing to them as the cultivation of the disinterested love of virtue."

Background
A familiar theme in many branches of philosophy (mostly epistemology) is how to prove a primitive.  By "primitive", I mean a foundational fact.  A fact that to the question "why?" you can't reply anymore than "it just is".  Think of it this way:  Imagine you're taking to a really annoying kid who keeps asking "why" to every successive answer you give.  At some point, you're going to run out of answers.  Or punch him right in the face!!


Here's an example of a conversation reaching a primitive (from a criminally underrated comedy):
Example of an Epistemic Primitive(video)

So, what's all the hoopla about primitives?  Well, Mill has a problem with proving utilitarianism because it is claimed that its first principle (ie. an action is good to the degree that it maximizes happiness for the greatest number of peeps) is a primitive.  But so are the first principles of any moral system.  If proponents of each moral system each tell me I should accept their particular first principle because "it just is the right one", why should I choose one system over another?  And on what grounds?

Mill recognizes this problem and tries to give us a proof...

Proof of Happiness as the Only Good
We begin with what Mill sets out to prove: that in human affairs, happiness is the only desirable end.  Not that we don't want other things, but that we want other things like money, honor, success, friends, and family because they are often only means to our ultimate end, which is happiness.  But why should we agree with this?

First argument:  How do we know if something is visible?  People see it.  How do we know if something is audible?  People hear it.  So...how do we know if something is desirable?  You got it...people desire it!

Ok, so people desire their own happiness perhaps, but it doesn't necessary follow that people desire the happiness of others...

Baaaat! That's not what we're trying to prove.  We're not primarily concerned with what people actually do, we are concerned with defining what moral goodness is.   The fact that a person values and desires their own happiness tells us that happiness is a good to that person.  So, the general happiness must be a good to the aggregate of all persons.

So far we've (more or less) established that happiness is a good because it is the desired end of most people's actions, but we have yet to establish that it is the only good.  To do this we have to demonstrate that happiness is the only thing that people desire.  It seems clear that there are other things people desire such as virtue (some people), absence of pain, and absence of vice, makin' paypur, range rovers, etc...

So, how does Mill argue for his postion?  He could say that all the other things people desire are instrumental ends; that is, they are merely a means to happiness.  But no, that'd be a cheap move and open him to some easy challenges.  Instead, he pursues a slightly different (but similar) strategy.

He acknowledges that for some people, they actually do pursue virtue, money, fame, etc... not as means to happiness but as ends in themselves.  So, how is that consistent with happiness being the only ultimate end?

The answer is that although people might not pursue virtue and such as a means to happiness, but as a component of happiness.  Huh? Wut?  How does this work?  

Lets drawr an analogy with money.  Most people pursue money as a means to some end.  People pursue money cuz it will get them the things they really want.  In the standard case, money is an instrumental end.  It is simply an intermediary step on the way to getting what we really want.  But, sometimes, in the course of some people's lives, they start to want money just to have it.  They don't use it to get other things. They want money for money's sake.  They like to love it and feed it and pet it...This is usually a progression.  It doesn't happen over night.  Not that it would matter if it did.  The point is, that somewhere along the line some people pursue money just to have money.  Having the money--by itself--makes them feel happy.

Ok, lets go back to virtue.  Most people typically act virtuously because helping other people makes them feel good.  If they didn't get a good feeling from acting virtuously, they might not so act.  But, hopefully, some people over time will start to value acting virtuously just for the sake of it.  Why?  Because this has become an element in the set of things that make them happy.  Being virtuous makes them happy.  Just like simply having money makes some people happy.

The difference is subtle.  In the first instance we are virtuous, not because we have a desire to be virtuous, but because acting so will afford us some pleasure; that is, we seek the consequence of 'pleasure' from the consequence of our virtuous act.  Over time, acting virtuously itself becomes a source of pleasure.  We get a warm fuzzy feeling from helping people.  What kind of people?  People that need help!  And so, virtue becomes a component of what is considered to be pleasure/happiness.  It gets included in the umbrella of things we equate with happiness, and thus, "good".

I have to admit, I find this a little sophistic.  Here's another quick example that might make strengthen Mill's case.  Few people listen to music because they figure the end result of doing so will bring them happiness.  Instead, for many people music is an element in set of things that are happiness, thus becoming a good in itself.  Music is happiness--or at least listening to it is.  And being virtuous (for some) is a direct source of happiness.  Acting virtuously is simply included in that person's definition of what it means to be happy.

So, because things like music and virtue, in themselves, come to cause us happiness, they become goods in themselves.  But why are these things goods?  Because they produce happiness...Ah ha!  So, you see...we've come full circle:  that which brings about happiness is good--be it virtue or music, and  whether we seek it as a means or an end!  And what's more, this proves what we've been trying to prove all along, that "there is in reality nothing desired except happiness."

It's an interesting thought experiment to come up with a counter example.  Is it possible that someone would listen to music if they thought it would make them unhappy?  That's probably a bad attempt at a counterexample.  Lets ax instead if it's possible that someone would act virtuously if they expected it to make them unhappy.

Possibly.  But the utilitarian would reply that the arbiter of goodness isn't a particular individual's happiness but the total happiness produced.  So, we need to re-ax the quextion: (Hai! Ya!) Would someone self-sacrifice if they knew that it wouldn't increase the happiness of others or at least prevent their suffering?  On what grounds would they be acting?  I suppose it's possible but it certainly would appear strange.  Not that humans don't already engage in a crap load of strange behaviours.  But I digress...

So where we at?  Oh right.  Proving that happiness is the only thing that human's desire.  Why is happiness the only thing humans desire?  Because the ends of our actions are all either directed at something that we consider to be part of happiness or a means to happiness.

Now here's the part that's a little sketchy.  The first premise we've established is that (1) The only thing that humans want is things that are a part of happiness or are a means to happiness.  From this it follows that (2) these are the only desirable things.  The next premise I'm not sure where it came from, he just kind of sneaks it in: (3) "the promotion of happiness is the test by which to judge all human conduct." Then Mill concludes (C) "it necessarily follows that it must be the criterion of morality, since a part is included in the whole."

What I don't see is where (3) comes from.  It looks like it's supposed to follow from (1) and (2), but there is no logical connection as far as I can tell.  What er'body wants and the benchmark for evaluating the moral worth of actions are not necessarily connected.  As a "gentle" Christian once told me, "children in hell want ice water."  Doesn't mean the standard of conduct should be measured by how much ice water is produced... The obvious response is to ax why they wanted ice water: to bring them relief from suffering (same as pleasure/happiness for a utilitarian).  So, check mate!  Utilitarians win again.

Mill would probably futher respond that, "you dumbass, we've just spend a crap load of ink and paper proving what 'good' is.  'Good' is whatever produces happiness.  More happiness= more better.  So, a good (i.e., morally right) action is one that produces the most happiness for the greatest amount of peeps.  Eazy peezy japonese-y!

Happiness is goodness!  That's what good is!  And there is only one good--happiness.  Were you asleep or something?"

Or something like that.  He could be quite short with people that questioned him.

That's all for tonight.  I hope this made you happy...meaning it was good!


Sunday, September 2, 2012

Mill's Utilitarianism Part 2: Mill's Argument for the Ultimate Sanction (What Can Compel Us to Consider General Happiness when We Act? )

Yo check it.  Weez about to learn about why (Mill thinks) we should be compelled to adopt and adhere to utilitarianism as the ultimate moral standard.  That is, why does a utilitarian ethic have binding force?

Overview and RecapOk, so...like...'member utilitarianism?  It's the idear that the moral goodness of an action is proportional to the total amount of happiness (or pleasure) it produces (for the agent as well as--and especially--other people).  So, an action that produces more pleasure/happiness for 5 people is more gooder than an action that produces pleasure/happiness for only 1.  Simple enough so far, right?  (We'll table some of the problems to get to the point of this post.)

Next step--Definition:  Happiness and pleasure are one and the same for utilitarians so I'll just say happiness to mean both; happiness also includes avoidance of pain.  But Mill makes a distinction between types of pleasure: higher (intellectual) and lower (sensual).  We know some pleasures to have more worth than others because the majority of peeps who experience and have the capacity for both will choose the higher over the lower.

Ok, supposing we accept everything so far, there's still a prollem--why should I be motivated to obey this standard of morality?  What's stopping me from being a selfish egotistical misanthrope and stepping on others to feed my own ravenous appetite for pleasure?  That's the problem Mill tackles in this section...

Of the Ultimate Sanction of the Principle of Utility
People Will Act on Utilitarian Principles Because They Already Are UtilitariansThe general gist of Mill's argument for why we should be motivated to obey the utilitarian maxim and whence it derives its motivating force is that we are already utilitarians and this is the natural moral position!  Of course he has some more specific arguments to support this assertion which we will look at...

Mill sets things up for his we're-utilitarian-even-if-we-don't-know-it view like this:  Many people recognize a moral duty not to murder, steal, and deceive yet might question the utilitarian maxim to act according to what will promote the general happiness.  How do we explain the feeling of moral duty toward abstaining from these specific acts while there is no corresponding feeling to act on the utilitarian maxim?

Mill suggests that we have accepted the specific consequences of utilitarianism but not the general maxim.  But this failure is simply a consequence of poor education and lack of influences which form moral character.  If people got their learn on, the 1st principle of utilitarianism "shall be as deeply rooted in our character, and to our own consciousness as completely a part of our nature, as the horror of crime is in an ordinarily well-bought up young person."

Basically, people who accept the consequences of the utilitarian ethic but not its principle do so because it falls outside of their particular custom and education--and so they question it.  But this is nothin' a little learnin' can't fix.

The obvious problem with this argument is that it can be made by any ethical system.  Hey, if you raise everyone as Kantians and teach them to see the moral truth in Kantianism, chances are, the majority will think the categorical imperative (one should only act according to principles that you'd want everyone to act on) is the one true moral principle.

Actually, if you ax most 'mericans (Republicans, anyway) they'll probably advocate an egoist morality; that is, since people are rational and self-interested, actions that are in line with the principle of rational self-interest are 'right'--provided another's rights aren't infringed upon.   If only they knew they are really just misguided utilitarians...

Anyhow, what really jumps out at me is how Aristotelian Mill sounds wilt all this moral education stuff.  Aristotle basically said (super condensed version), an action is good if it is by a virtuous person and a virtuous person is one who has had a correct moral education.  In a way, Mills just adding on that someone with the correct moral education would act according to the utilitarian principle.

Sanctions
Recall that the whole point of this section of the utilitarian argument is to defend utilitarianism from critics who charge that utilitarianism can't work because there's no reason for people to go along with it.  In this context, Mill discusses external and internal sanctions that may or may not compel someone to act according to the utilitarian ethic.  Regarding external sanctions he says they are the same for any possible moral system: desire to be praised and avoid punishment (earthly or cosmic).  Lets move on to internal sanctions...

Internal SanctionsSo, what is it that might compel us to consider our action's effect on the general good above all other considerations?   What is it that makes us feel as though we have a duty to consider the general good? It is "a feeling in the mind; a pain, more or less intense, attendant on violation of duty, which in properly cultivated moral natures rises, in the more serious cases, into shrinking from its impossibility."  In other words, our conscience.

Lets call it a special feeling; lets call the feeling of moral duty "the essence of conscience".  There we have it--the thing that compels us to act according to utilitarian ethic is our conscience.  Admittedly, we rarely feel pure duty because we often have competing feelings, interests, and social conditioning running around in our heads that distort this sense of moral duty.

But how does pure conscience bind us to a particular course of action (i.e., the 1st principle of utilitarianism)?  It binds us because it is "a mass of feeling which must be broken through in order to do what violates our standard of right, and which if we do nevertheless violate that standard, will probably have to be encountered afterwards in the form of remorse."  In other words, our conscience binds us because we cannot escape it.

The obvious objection is that there are people who don't have strong feelings of conscience or are able to ignore their conscience, so how can we say that utilitarianism binds people to action?  Mill's (reoccurring) reply is that this is a problem for any ethical system--it is not particular to utilitarianism.  Such people can only be compelled to act through external sanctions regardless of what moral system you support.   So, I guess this is meant to diffuse the argument that utilitarian ethics should be rejected because it can't bind people to follow it, but neither is it a point in favour of utilitarianism.

On the Origins of the Feeling of Duty
Mill begins that the origins of the feelings of duty, be they innate or acquired, are unimportant because the net result is the same.  Supposing they are innate (here he's implying Kantian ethics), then the feeling of duty would attach to moral principles.  But there is no argument to suggest that the innate feeling of duty wouldn't attach to the utilitarian principle rather then, lets say, the categorical imperative.  Furthermore, if morality itself is intuitive, it seems that accounting for the effect of our actions on the happiness of others is "intuitively obligatory".  So, even if our sense of moral duty is innate (which Mill denies) this is no objection to utilitarianism.

Suppose instead, as Mill does, that moral feelings are learned rather than innate.  They are something we (hopefully) develop over time with experience and education just as we do with things like the ability to reason, to use language, to play an instrument... Just like any capacity we have, our moral feelings can develop to varying degrees, both positively and negatively.  So, even if our moral conscience is acquired rather than innate, there is no reason to suppose it couldn't develop to follow utilitarian principles (amongst all the other possibilities).

Then Why Utilitarianism? Finally we learn why our conscience will be receptive to utilitarian principles rather than others.  Given that, regardless of the origins of our sense of duty and moral conscience, what arguments are there to suppose the utilitarian ethics is the one true standard?  So far we've said that human can be conditioned to attach a sense of moral duty to just about moral principle.

Ah! Ha!  But you see, the utilitarian principle is special! The is a "powerful natural basis of sentiment for utilitarian morality".  You see, once the general happiness is recognized as the ethical standard it will be the basis of this powerful natural sentiment.  And that natural oh-so-good feeling is the social feeling of mankind--"the desire to be in unity with our fellow creatures..."; that is, our natural tendency to live as social creatures.  It is unnatural for us to live outside of a social context.

It's hard to dispute that we are social creatures but some people might reply that our natural tendency toward social living doesn't necessarily entail utilitarianism.  An egoist or social contract theorist might say, for example, that social living just means that I have to abide by certain conventions if I want to get out of life what I want but still avoid (external) sanctions.

Mill further argues that social living is impossible unless the members regard everyone's interests to be equal.  People grow up with the understanding that they have to include the interests of others when/before they act.  They learn not to injure others.  In instances of cooperation they learn that interests can be mutual and that our own well being is often bound up in that of others.  He goes on to paint a very pretty picture:

Not only does all strengthening of social ties, and all healthy growth of society, give to each individual a stronger personal interest in practically consulting the welfare of others, it also leads him to identify his feelings more and more with their good, or at least with an even greater degree of practical consideration for it.

Under these conditions he will, as a matter of habit, consider the good of others in his actions.  Once he has this feeling he will want to demonstrate it, and encourage it in others.  And even if he doesn't have utilitarian sentiments, for his own self-interest he will want others to be utilitarians because he will benefit.  Before long and by this process the utilitarian meme takes over the society, removing sources of opposition and "leveling those inequalities of legal privilege between individuals or classes".

Here's the really interesting thing.  In a way Mill was right.  Empirical evidence suggests that most people think like utilitarians (however, it varies between cultures and contexts).  Also, that in groups where there are strong social ties members do tend to consider the happiness of the other members in their moral calculus.  As the intellectual underpinnings and the utilitarian feelings of the individual grow, he will oppose socio-economic and socio-political structures that prevent others from having the benefits he has.  Through this mechanism the moral community grows in number.

Basically, once you go utilitarian you never go back cuz it just feels sooooo natural.  When you accept utilitarianism into your heart it is not as "a law despotically imposed by the power of society, but as an attribute which is would not be well for them to be without".  Utilitarianism, once embraced, works in harmony with external or internal motives to care for others.  When external sanctions fail to motivate, the utilitarian ethic will provide internal motivation (sense of duty) to consider the happiness of others (in proportion to the extent to which to agent is utilitarian).

Sounds nice, doesn't it?







Friday, August 31, 2012

Mill's Utilitarianism Part 1: John Stuart Mill's Argument for Qualitative Hedonism

Updayt:
Hey er'body...I'm baaack!  Before we get down to biniz and talk about Mill an' stuff here's a brief updayt.  First, my sincerest apologies to the throngs of my adoring fans that had to go the whole summer without reading a new post, but I needed a break.  Also, I was studying for the state and national realtor's license exam (which I successfully passed) as well as doing my usual pants off dance off to make mo' money.  The three elements combined to form the perfect trifecta of excuses to not write.

Anyhow, I'm very pleased to announce that I'm only 3 1/2 months away (or 3 term papers and a couple of midterms--as I measure it) from gradulating from koledg with an MA.  This semester I'll be taking the following courses/seminars:  Classics in the history of ethics (modern history); philosophy of special sciences (i.e., of biology, psychology, neurology); and philosophy of punishment and retribution.

After the first week of classes I get the feeling that this semester is going to be a lot of work.  The first two classes require a ton of reading (even more than usual).  I'm not really a fan of courses with a ton of reading because usually--since it's often hard enough just to get through it once--I never really get to read it as carefully as I'd like.  I get more out of courses where you do close readings of less material but really get to know it... but I digress...

Lets get down to biniz



Mill's Utilitarianism

Favorite Quote:
(vs the idea that humans can't have "happy" lives--Mill disagrees and explains what he means by "happy" life.)
"If by happiness be meant a continuity of highly pleasurable excitement, it is evident enough this is impossible [...] Philosophers that teach that happiness is the end of life were fully aware of [this].  The happiness which [utilitarians] meant was not a life of rapture, but moments of such, in an existence made up of few and transitory pains, many and various pleasures, with a foundation of the whole not to expect more from life than it is capable of bestowing.  A life thus composed, to those who have been fortunate enough to obtain it, has always appeared worthy of the name of happiness."

Overview of Classical Utilitarianism


Ok, lets take a general view of utilitarianism.  (Unless otherwise specified, by 'utilitarianism' I mean classical utilitarianism).  In the most general/crude terms, utilitarianism is the view that an action is morally right or good to the degree that it produces the maximum amount of happiness for the maximum amount of people.   The assumption is that things/actions are good or bad based on their consequences, and happiness as an end is good.

Of course, this talk of happiness/utility doesn't mean much unless we define our terms.  What do we mean by happiness?  Happiness means pleasure and absence of pain; unhappiness is pain and absence of pleasure.

So, if counting blades of grass makes people happy, then is an action 'right' or 'good' if allows the maximum number of people to count blades of grass?  Some early utilitarians like Bentham didn't discriminate between sources of pleasure.  But this runs into objections pretty quickly.  If heroin makes me happy, then is it good? Are drug dealers' actions good?  At this point, utilitarians are going to have to refine their view.  And that's exactly what Mill tried to do.

In the broadest terms, Mill introduced "qualitative hedonism" (as opposed to quantitative).  That is, not all sources of happiness are on par.  Some happiness-producing activities/things are better than others.  The problem of course is how to measure sources/types of happiness against each other.  Who's to say that the pleasure someone derives from eating cheezeburgers is less than the pleasure another derives from listening to opera or solving a math problem.  How do we even begin to compare these disparate things? And how do we do it in a non-question-begging way? That is, how do we do a comparison in which the judgments are impartial--by which all the things I think are best don't just happen to be, after my own careful analysis, the ones that really are best?

It's an interesting problem.  Think about it for a moment... Can we discriminate between types of pleasure?  How?

Well, this overview is turning into more than an overview so lets move on and get into some to the "especifics".

Mill vs Standard Criticisms

Vs The Ranking of Pleasures Problem/Objection:
The critics accuse utilitarians of having the "ethics of swine", for if consequent happiness is all it takes to make something right or good, then what's to stop us from enacting policies that allow maximum wallowing in our animal pleasures in the name of goodness?  Mill's brand of utilitarianism includes the premise that not all pleasures are equal, but how do we determine that "higher" (intellectual) pleasures have more intrinsic goodness than "lower" (sensual) pleasures?

Mills solution to this problem is summarized by the phrase "better to be a human being dissatisfied than a swine satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied".   (I've always loved this line...I still remember it from my very first intro philosophy class.)

Ok, admittedly we can still ax, how do we know this to be true?  Well, ax yourself (ouch!), given the choice would you rather be a happy swine rolling in the mud or would you rather be a disgruntled human?  I hope you answered the latter--and didn't sustain any serious injuries while axing yourself.

So, if you're not completely convinced, here's the argument:  if the fool or the pig disagree with our assessment, it's because they haven't experience both positions.  That is, someone who has experienced both types of pleasure, both intellectual and sensual, will agree that the pleasure or happiness experienced from the former is of higher quality.  The judgment can only be made by someone who has experienced both.

Someone might reply that, "but sometimes even the most intelligent people succumb to the lower pleasures when they could be reading the latest translation of classical Russian literature."  Surely, they know that reading Russian lit. is the higher pleasure.  One response to this is that, despite the slip up, the cultured person still knows that the intellectual pleasure is of higher quality.

Besides, I don't think Mill's talking about one-off acts here.  He's talking about general ways of living and how to determine what types of policies and actions we should institute--about the activities that should be promoted on a society-wide level.  So, an individual who has experienced and is capable of an intellectual life is not going to chose a life purely indulgent in the sensual pleasures  and will recognize the greater good (happiness) in the former.

I have to say I find this argument compelling--(if we don't try to get too fine grained about it).  Of course this is purely anecdotal so it doesn't really count as empirical evidence in favour of Mill, but in my life I basically had the same choice--and the decision was easy...even if it took me a while!

Another way to look at how to determine what kinds of pleasure are best is from the flip side--that of pain.  How do we know which of two things causes more pain?  The judgment can only be made by those who have experienced both.  Likewise, in determining what types of pleasure are greatest, the judgment can only be made by someone who has experienced both--"or if they differ, that of the majority among them...".

There are a couple of problems with this argument that I'll table for now cuz I want to keep moving...but the quick and dirty problem with Mill's proposal is that if "pleasure" is the thing that makes actions good, then there must be something other than pleasure upon which he makes the distinction between higher and lower quality pleasures.  


Pleasure is pleasure, just like squareness is squareness or hardness is hardness.  To distinguish between 2 square objects one has to be more or less square than the other.  Which implies that the difference lies in quantity, not quality. A poor quality square is such because its corners are perhaps rounded.  It has less squareness than its higher quality counterpart.  Ok, so maybe it's not the best analogy, but I hope you get it.  If not, I'll be more specific next post...

Vs Virtue as the Source of Moral Goodness
Another objection to utilitarianism is that what makes an action (or person) good is virtue rather than consequent happiness.  Suppose some noble person voluntarily sacrifices his own happiness for that of others.  Clearly, this virtuous act is good.   But why is it good?  Is it mere self-sacrifice what makes it good?  


Mill's reply is that we regard this instance of self-sacrifice as good because its consequence was greater happiness.  What would we think of self-sacrifice that didn't result in greater happiness for others?  That is, the end of the action was not happiness (broadly speaking)?  This action would be regarded as silly.  So, it is the fact that happiness is produced as a consequence of the act that the action is good.

Again, we needn't only appeal to examples using happiness or pleasure to illustrate the point.  We can imagine a case where a hero sacrifices himself or his own absence of suffering so that others may be free of suffering.  If his action didn't result in a diminution of pain or suffering for others it would be difficult to see why it is 'good'.

Mill asks, "Would [the sacrifice] be made if the hero or martyr did not believe that it would earn for others immunity from similar sacrifices?  Would it be made if he thought that his renunciation of happiness for himself would produce no fruit for any of his fellow creatures, but to make their lot like his and place them also in the condition of persons who have renounced happiness?"

Utilitarians aren't saying that self-sacrifice isn't a good thing, only that it is not intrinsically good.  What makes it good is its consequences.

Of course, the Kantian will reply that even if the agents action produced no tangible increase in the happiness of others but he had intended for there to be an increase, then this action would be good.  Mills reply is that this confuses the rule of action with the motive.  The motive doesn't tell you whether the action was good--it tells you about the character of the agent.  The goodness of the action is measured by its consequences.

Alright, that enough for right now...I'll have more soon.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Racism, Comedy, Free Speech, and Buddhism

Introduction
Last night I went to go see a good friend of mine perform for his second time at an open mic comedy night.  I went primarily to support him and secondarily hoping to be entertained.  Although both of these goals were achieved (the latter, perhaps less so) I emerged from the club very unsettled and uncomfortable.  There were two main elements that contributed to my negative reaction: The first had to do with the unpleasant feeling which I think most humans experience when they see another self-destruct in public.  The second had to do with the unapologetically racist content of the majority of the acts--from both black and white comics. 


The Humanity!
Before I get into the meat of what I want to talk about--the racist content--I'll briefly describe the event.  The amateur open-mic comedy night is held every Monday night in a dive bar in a dive neighborhood.  First of all, I think open-mic events are excellent ways for aspiring artists of all stripes to learn how to deal with performing in public, learn what works (and what doesn't), and get an idea of where they stand and how far they have to go.  Open mic nights are great because the audience is mainly groups that have come out to support a friend.  I think this is particularly important for aspiring comedians.  


That is one job I would never do.  And this coming from a guy who takes is clothes off for strangers.  Comedy takes real balls.  My full respect to anyone who even attempts this art.  There are a fair number of people who think they're funny, but to have a room of people staring at you and expecting you to make them laugh?  That is pressure I can live without.


Anyway, for most of the people performing it was only their first or second time...and it showed.  My biggest fear was that my friend would totally bomb and I wouldn't know how to respond.  Do I tell him, "no...you were hilarious!  You're totally the next Chris Rock!" Or do I give him the honest truth and tell him not to quit his night job?  Seriously, this was my biggest worry going into the club.


Thankfully, my friend didn't do too badly.  Considering it was only his second time and the incredible difficulty of making people laugh when they are expecting it, he did an excellent job.  He got some legitimate laughs.  I was pleased that I could tell him sincerely that he did do a good job.


However, I felt really bad for this one guy.  He brought the rowdiest group of friends.  They were talking over the other comics and adding their own colour commentary...at least until their poor friend totally bombed.  There is something very uncomfortable about watching someone crash and burn right before your eyes.


I should quickly point out this was a very small venue.  With maybe a little under 30 people in there.  We were so close to the "stage" my feet were on it.  This made it all the more painful to watch because it was literally happening right before my eyes.


This guy forgot all his jokes.  He started stammering.  He would start a joke, then mumble, "no, you guys won't like that one".  Then stare at the floor in silence. 


That wasn't the worst part.  After about 5 min (it might have been less but it seemed like half an hour) of this he says, "think I'm going to cut my losses and walk off the stage".  The crowd, 90% of which were there as support crews for friends wanted to extend their support to this poor guy.  A noble gesture to be sure.  But, unlike in the self-help books and the movies, this actually didn't help things...  


At the behest of the crowd, this poor guy stayed on the stage and continued to stumble and stammer, and was still unable to vocalize a complete thought.  It must have been another 4 min but seemed like waaaaaaay longer.  This poor guy.  I'm not sure what a friend could say.  The only possible good thing for him is that by that point in the night his friends were so trashed, it's unlikely they'll remember much of what happened.  Despite the fact that he'll likely never forget.


Racism in Comedy
Including my friend there were 3 black comics and (I think) 4 white comics.  What struck me was that most of the content from both groups of comics was about race and racial stereotypes.  Sure, sometimes it can be funny if it's presented it the right way, but it seemed as though nothing was off the table.  Maybe it's just me and that 5 years in the US hasn't done enough to disabuse me of my tendency to treat race as a somewhat taboo topic--or maybe it was the way it was presented.  Probably the latter.


It's strange.  I don't feel any discomfort when I listen to Russell Peters, and his act is almost 100% about racial and ethnic stereotypes.  So, why did I leave feeling like I had just participated in something dirty and morally depraved?  I seriously left feeling physically unclean from the experience.


Although the effect was cumulative, I think most of this effect on me had to do with the last comic I watched (and I watched a lot of comics that night!).  Incidentally, he was the only professional comic there (not sure why he was there).  He opened with a fairly innocuous witty joke, which of course had racial content, but nothing that might cause discomfort.  Everyone laughed.

The next joke--again to do with race--was deliberately intended to cause discomfort  (I don't remember what it was).  After telling the joke and deliberately pointing out the audience's discomfort, he went on a rant about how comedy clubs are the last place for true free speech and that PC has gotten out of hand.  (Still with the PC jokes?  Haven't comedians been doing these since the 80s?)



Anyhow, without going into the specific jokes--mostly because I forget them--I had a couple of thoughts about racism, comedy, and Buddhism (I'll get to the last part in a bit!).


First of all, isn't there anything else to joke about?  How about politics? Children? Observations about life/people generally?  Why does it seem that American comedy is soooo hung up on race?  Yes, I know race plays a big role in American history, culture, and its psyche; but there are other topics.  Your whole act need not rest on this issue.  Not that it can't play a role, but there seems to be an obsession with it.


Second, regarding PC language.  Yes, PC when taken to extremes might seem silly.  But it's no revelation that there is an important relationship between language and our thoughts, which in turn influence action--on both a personal and social level.


This idea that PC somehow limits "free speech" in only true if we consider free speech in its crudest form:  the removal of the filter between our base thoughts and our words.  


One such type of thought is stereotyping.  I think if we're honest with ourselves most of us will admit to stereotyping sometimes.   Maybe not on a regular basis but it happens.  Maybe if you're a man and a woman cuts you off in traffic, you attribute her perceived poor driving to her sex.  But if another man cuts you off, he's just an (individual) asshole.  You don't make the inferential leap, that all men are poor drivers.   We're inconsistent.  We do this with race, gender, social class, ethnicity, "look", and so on.  


Arguably, we can't help it.  This type of thinking is hardwired into us.   We perceive those that are different from us as other and attribute the perceived negative qualities of an individual to the entire group.  We're also hardwired for this because our brains naturally seek to identify patterns--and we sometimes (often) believe there are patterns where there are none.  We have many other cognitive defects such as selection biases but these will suffice to make the point.


So what? So, most of us have these tendencies for base thoughts and over-generalizing.   Perhaps we ought to suppress them rather than celebrate them?  This is what it is to be civilized.  We are hard wired to class people into groups, just as we are hard wired to want to do heinous things when we're angry.   Yet, just because the thought exists does not mean we should let it pass our lips as words or realize it through actions.  We are not animals.  We have the capacity to filter and we ought to at least try.   


The difficulty, of course, is knowing when to filter--and different situations might demand different filters.  What you say at your mother's dinner table and what you say among good friends are probably different.  But I'd like to think there is still a bottom floor for what counts as decency.  


On a related note, I think the eight-fold path in Buddhism makes a compelling arguments for why we should self-sensor because it give a good account of the relationship between thoughts, words, and actions which is supported by much modern psychology.

With Buddhist ethics, everything begins with the Right View: We ought to strive for a right view of the world "s
ince our view of the world forms our thoughts and our actions, right view yields right thoughts and right actions." http://www.thebigview.com/buddhism/eightfoldpath.html

Basically, how we perceive the world influences the thoughts we have. Right mindfulness teaches us, amongst other things, we have a deliberative choice in transforming our thoughts into words or actions--it need not be automatic. Words have power and further shape how we interact with others and how others interact with us. The same goes for our actions.

(As a disclaimer, no, I'm not a Buddhist. I know, as I'm sure all of you know, that Zeus is the one True god. Nevertheless, I find myself sympathetic to many (theravadic) Buddhist teachings.)



If we want free speech, that's fine.  However, we ought to ask what we mean by this, and what responsibilities come with it.  If we just mean its crudest form akin to what the comedian basically said: "I'm going say whatever the fuck I want to say, and I don't give a damn what you think", I don't see how this benefits society--or, going back to comedy--how it could be insightful or funny.


An enlightened notion of free speech takes into account the responsibility one must take for the possible consequences of one's words for one's self, one's audience, and one's society.  I think Buddhist ethics give us a good beginning model to work with.









Thursday, May 10, 2012

Realism vs. Antirealism on Theoretical Entities: Maxwell vs van Fraassen

Preamble
Here's a paper I maked for filosofy of sciences class. i maked it myself.
There's an inside joke with my professor Dr. J. Brown that needs some explaining to understand part of this paper.  Every time he uses hypotheticals he always says "I could have come to class in a bear suit".  Anyway, the grad students all pitched in an bought him a bear suit (he's well-liked)



The paper is about the realist vs antirealist debate in science.  That is, does science get at how the world really is or does it just produce coherent theories.  There are lots of strands of realism vs antirealism debates but my essay involves the one over the existence of theoretical entities.  Basically, unobservable things like atoms and electrons and subatomic particles have never been observed directly.  They've only been observed indirectly.  Furthermore, there are limitations on what we actually can observe so it is unlikely they will ever be directly observed.  For that reason they are theoretical entities: we infer their existence from detected properties.   It's kind of like guessing what's in a box by shaking it, feeling its weight, and evaluating how it moves in the box.  We'll never be able to look in the box.  


The realists argument can be boiled down to what's called the "miracle" argument which goes like this: Supposing science isn't right about theoretical entities--it's a miracle that it's wrong yet  we have the coherence of the theories, the explanatory power, the predictive power, and the ability to use the knowledge in applied technology.


The basic anti-realist argument is called "the pessimistic meta-induction".  This goes like this: science has gotten it wrong in the past about theoretical entities (eg. mass, gravity, ether, phlogiston, etc..) why should we think this time is special?  In this paper one of the main arguments is slightly different and it goes like this: epistemic principles don't give us ontological conclusions.  In normal language that means just because a theory has a certain desirable property (coherence, explanatory power, simplicity, predictive power) it doesn't make it True of the world, it only means it has that epistemic property.  And (related to the pessimistic meta-induction) there have been countless theories in the past with those properties, why should we think our current ones are special?

Anyway, that's the debate in a nutshell.  For me this in one of those philosophical issues that make you loco.  I changed my conclusion 5 times over the course of writing the paper.  I kept switching sides.  It's not an issue to which I think there will be any resolution soon.   



It's not necessary, but I suggest reading my 2 previous posts on realism and antirealism for background, but if you don't care to, you should be able to follow along anyway.

Thanks for stopping by....











Can Epistemic and Pragmatic Reasons Bear on Ontological Conclusions about Theoretical Entities?



An Investigation into the Debate between Maxwell's Realism and Van Fraassen's Antirealism about Theoretical Entities 




Introduction

In rejecting logical empiricism1, van Fraassen and Maxwell end up on different ends of the realist-antirealist divide. For Maxwell, the observable-unobservable distinction is arbitrary and so is a poor principle from which to infer antirealism about theoretical entities. Conversely, van Fraassen argues that ontological conclusions do not follow from a theory's epistemic merit; therefore, so long as a theory is empirically adequate (i.e., is consistent with what we see in the observable world) there are reasons in favour of using it, but we ought to remain agnostic about the ontology of theoretical entities. I will suggest that both positions fail to give adequate consideration to the implications of differences in epistemic and pragmatic merit between scientific theories2: both accounts imply an all-or-nothing ontological attitude toward theoretical entities as a whole. Instead, perhaps we ought to adjust our ontological attitude toward theoretical entities in relation to the aggregate of a particular theory's epistemic and pragmatic qualities in which an entity is embedded. While van Fraassen is probably right concerning theoretical entities that no particular epistemic quality confers upon them ontological certainty, this does not preclude us from assessing a theory's epistemic and pragmatic qualities and making reasonable inferences in favour of or against the ontological status of various theoretical entities which will ultimately inform our ontological attitude.

In laying the groundwork for my conclusion, my paper will follow a thread of possible replies and counter replies beginning with Maxwell's argument that the observable-unobservable distinction is arbitrary and so ontological claims against theoretical entities cannot rest on this distinction. Specifically, my paper will have the following structure: (1) Discussion of Maxwell's argument for the arbitrariness of the observable-unobservable distinction; (2) possible anti-realist replies; (3) discussion of possible realist counter-replies; (4) possible anti-realist replies; (5) conclusion.




Maxwell's Argument for the Arbitrariness of the Observable-Unobservable Distinction
Maxwell gives us several arguments against anti-realism toward theoretical entities from which he concludes we ought to be realists. The first argument Maxwell gives is in response to Bergman's anti-realist argument which I'll call the “distortion argument”.

Suppose we are looking at a microorganism through a compound microscope. What do we observe? Bergman says, “all I see is a patch of colour which creeps through the field like a shadow over a wall. And a shadow, though real, is certainly not a physical thing” (quoted in Maxwell, p. 1055).

The gist of this argument is that what I'm seeing is a distortion of the (theoretical) entity in the petri dish, so how can I be sure that the properties of the image I see through the microscope are the same as those of the entity in the dish?

Maxwell's replies that it is simply balderdash to deny that what we are looking at is real because the light travels through a lens. He uses an argument ad absurdum to demonstrate his point: The underlying logic of the skeptical argument is that if we are observing distorted light or a projected image of the entity, then we are not looking at the thing itself; so, we cannot make any ontological claims about it. But, if distorted light is grounds for denying something's ontological status this would imply that people who wear glasses cannot make ontological claims about what they see.

We can further demonstrate this absurdity when we apply it to looking through a wet window. Should the fact that the light is being slightly distorted impede us from believing the world on the other side is real? Similarly, when we look at the moon or other planets through a telescope, they certainly appear to be physical objects rather than “patches of colour”. Are we to deny their reality because the lens has distorted the light or projected an image of the object?

Because of the continuity between methods of observing the world on the micro and macro scale, where we draw the line is arbitrary—and the logical extension of the distortion argument is clearly silly. In sum, because the ontological status of entities clearly doesn't vary with our ability to perceive them and where the observable/unobservable line is drawn, we ought to reject the observable/unobservable distinction as a grounds for ascribing or denying ontological status.




Antirealist Reply: Arbitrary Line Doesn't Imply No Line
The antirealist can reply that this argument is a caricature and fails to meet the central objection. While it is certainly true that there is a continuum of observational enhancement techniques it does not follow that there are no important differences between extreme ends of the spectrum. Where we draw the line will to some extent be pragmatic, but there are important differences between extremes. Surely, we can say that there is a difference between looking at a room with glasses on, and observing bleeps and blips on an instrument panel at CERN to infer the existence of subatomic particles.

To illustrate, we can draw an analogy with the classical problem of distinguishing between what is constitutive of baldness and what isn't. While it seems correct to say that there are grey areas along the continuum, this does not preclude the possibility of canonical cases. A head with no hair is a bald head--that much is certain, and Charlie Brown with his one hair is also bald. Hair thick enough so that the scalp is not visible is not a bald head. Of course, there will be cases in between that are unclear but this does not preclude the existence of clear cases on either end of the continuum.

The same might be argued of observation. While Maxwell is correct to point out that there is a continuum and that there is some arbitrariness in where the line is drawn, this does not entail that there are no clear cases of each end of the spectrum. This fact is not diminished by the problems of where to draw the line.

In the case of the observable-unobservable distinction, in what might that difference inhere? I suggest that at least one important difference has to do with the length and epistemic certainty of the chain of inference from observation to conclusions about the properties of a theoretical entity. Consider the “direct observation” end of the spectrum: It does not seem unreasonable to say that my looking at the wall and concluding that “there are walls and they are solid” is a direct form of observation whose conclusions we should consider valid. If this isn't sufficient, to further establish certainty about the properties I'm observing, I can employ my other senses and ask my friends to verify my observations. So, why ought we to consider the conclusions from this type of observation valid? Because the inferential step is minimal and my knowledge comes from a epistemically reliable source: the direct experiences I have of macro objects justify my ontological conclusions about them3.

Now consider the other end of the continuum: how we get images of atoms from a scanning tunnelling microscope (STM):

The STM is based on the concept of quantum tunnelling. When a conducting tip is brought very near to the surface to be examined, a bias (voltage difference) applied between the two can allow electrons to tunnel through the vacuum between them. The resulting tunnelling current is a function of tip position, applied voltage, and the local density of states (LDOS) of the sample. Information is acquired by monitoring the current as the tip's position scans across the surface, and is usually displayed in image form. (Wikipedia4)




In this case, there are several inferential steps: the information from the tunnelling current-- which has been derived from other variables--is run through software that converts it into other electrical signals, which in turn are converted into an image on a monitor. So, are we observing an atom when we view it through an STM microscope? It doesn't seem that way. It seems that we are observing a reconstruction of an atom based on our instruments having detected voltage differences between tip position, applied voltage, and LDOS. In sum, there is a fairly long chain of inference from detection to “observation”. In such cases, perhaps there is warrant for some skepticism that our reconstruction of the differentials in voltage resembles how the world really is. The worry can elucidated through the classic Chinese thought experiment of the three blind students and the sage who teaches in a bear suit:

Having never seen their sage who wears a bear suit (unbeknownst to them) three blind students are curious to know what he is like. With the sage's consent each “observes” by touch a different part of him. The first touches his leg and exclaims “Lo! the sage is like a moss-covered young sapling”; the second holds the sage's tail and exclaims to the first, “you are mistaken, verily our sage is like a snake!”; meanwhile the third who has touched the sages paw can bear it no more, he exclaims “you are both fools! Our sage is like a furry ping pong paddle!”

Here, the anti-realist might concede that—as the blind students can about the sage--we can detect properties of the world; but how those properties are “assembled” into entities is unknowable. For this reason we should be antirealist about theoretical entities.


Realist Counter-Reply: Epistemic Qualities But it is not only the anti-realist that can appeal to the three blind students and the bear-suit- wearing sage analogy to support his position. He can propose that there's no reason to suppose that the blind students had to stop their observations of the sage when they did. They could have continued to each walk around the sage, communicated, and replicated each other's observations. There is a parallel in science. It's not as though the only line of evidence we have for atoms comes from one type of observation—e.g., an STM microscope. There are multiple lines of converging evidence that point to the existence of atoms. Just as if the three blind men had continued their observations they might eventually concluded that all three properties inhere in the same object, the same goes for observing the different properties of atoms. So, the realist can say that the atomic theory has the epistemic quality of (1) support from multiple independent lines of evidence.

The realist can further argue that theoretical entity “atoms” have several other important epistemic qualities: (2) They offer the best explanatory model for the properties and phenomena that are detected/observed. (3) Their postulation provides a reliable model from which we can predict phenomena. (4) We can apply the atomic model successfully in technology, even technology that is recursive—i.e., it helps to make further discoveries about atoms and even other theoretical entities such as subatomic particles.


Anti-Realist Counter-Counter Reply: Epistemic Qualities Don't Necessarily Entail Ontological Consequences  Van Fraassen's response to the the various arguments from epistemic qualities is that as far as theoretical entities go the epistemic qualities of the T of which they are part don't necessarily entail ontological conclusions one way or the other (p. 1066). The waste bin of history is filled with theories that had one of or some combination of (1), (2), (3), and (4) which were eventually rejected. Instead we should say that so long as T adequately explains all (directly) observable phenomena, we can say T is empirically adequate—but that is all (Ibid, pp. 1066 and 1131). Furthermore, if--as some realists suppose--scientific theories cumulatively aim at approximations of truth, realist can't explain how previous theories were “approximately true” about entities “whose central terms have evidently not referred” (Ibid, p. 1132). For example, phlogiston was proposed to explain heat and ether to explain how light travels, despite the epistemic qualities their supporting Ts at the time, they failed to refer.

We should work within the theory that, compared to its rivals, best meets the standard of empirical adequacy, but given the absence of any necessary relation from epistemic qualities to ontological consequences and historical precedent, we ought to remain agnostic about the ontology of theoretical entities.


Conclusion
For the most part I agree with van Fraassen that we ought to remain agnostic about theoretical entities (where ever the demarkation line happens to be drawn); however I disagree that we should be absolutists in our agnosticism. Just as there is a continuum between observable and unobservable entities, I suggest there's also a continuum of epistemic reasons in favour of a theory's postulated entity's likelihood of resembling the world. There will never be 100% certainty or Truth, but this doesn't preclude our talking in degrees. Also, just as it will be a combination of pragmatic considerations that we will consider when drawing the line on the observable-unobservable continuum, so too will there be pragmatic considerations regarding where we draw a the line between strength of epistemic reasons in favour of agnosticism or ontological belief. Finally, in the observable world we (sometime unconsciously) evaluate epistemic and pragmatic reasons in inferring ontological conclusions about the world, so, I suggest we carefully extend this allowance to some theoretical entities.

Consider how the sage in the bear suit might come to ontological conclusions about the observable world. It seems unlikely that he would/does not permit himself certain basic ontological beliefs about the observable world just because in his wisdom he knows there is no necessary entailment from epistemic reasons to ontological conclusions. Why might he make ontological conclusions? I hypothesize that, amongst other beliefs, he would have a belief in the general epistemic reliability of his senses; that is, they reliability produce true beliefs about the world. Also, perhaps partly because the coherence, simplicity, and predictive and explanatory power of his beliefs/theory about the observable world. Finally, there are pragmatic reasons for the sage to conclude from his epistemic reasons that the wall he is approaching is solid. It seems odd that he would hold separate his epistemic and pragmatic reasons from his ontological conclusions about the world. In short, he has strong epistemic and pragmatic reasons to infer ontological consequences.
If we can accept this much--that in the observable world most realists and antirealists alike draw ontological conclusions from epistemological and pragmatic reasons—then, with some qualifications, there doesn't seem to be any necessary prohibition against doing the same in the theoretical realm. It does not follow from this that all theoretical entities should be granted ontological status. Science is not a unified body of knowledge and this suggests that each theory should be assessed individually because, obviously, not all theories and their postulated entities are on equal epistemic footing and/or have equally strong practical reasons in their favour.

Again, just as the antirealist can point out to the realist that the difficulty with drawing a observable-unobservable distinction doesn't entail there isn't one; the realist can reply that just because there's a continuum of strength of epistemic and practical reasons in favour of believing in ontological conclusions doesn't entail there are no difference between the extreme ends. In the theoretical realm (just as in the observational realm), there are some cases where it seems the epistemological and pragmatic reasons in favour of accepting ontological implications overwhelm those against, it would seem odd not to acknowledge their cumulative weight. Perhaps, electrons are one such entity.

Finally, the antirealist might yet respond that our beliefs and desires simply do not an ontological Truth make. And they are correct. He might further point out that even in the observable world he has good epistemic and pragmatic reasons to act as though walls are solid, but he still withholds judgment as to their ultimate reality. I propose that a some point this ontological agnosticism exceeds its utility. What do we gain from this almost pedantic ontological tiptoeing? At some point the practical considerations seem to outweigh the philosophical and--just as we do in the observable world--we ought to move from acting as though wall are solid to simply believing they are.

As a philosopher it pains me to say it, but there is a point at which we have to be willing to admit that the philosopher doth protest too much. There's a parallel with the Cartesian skeptic. He'll never be satisfied, but there is a point at which skepticism overstays its philosophical welcome and exceeds its utility5. I do not , however, purport to know where on the continuum that demarkation line ought to be drawn. Nevertheless, so long as we accept that antirealists avoid walking through walls because they have good epistemic and practical reasons for not doing so, then we can accept that at some point on the continuum, epistemic and practical reasons can tip the balance in favour of ontological conclusions about some theoretical entities.


Footnotes


1Although there are many “brands” of logical empiricism it can be generally defined as the view that if theoretical language can't be cashed out in observational language then it has no ontological or metaphysical meaning.


2My point is not that they don't consider it, but my position is that there are possible implications that are overlooked.


3At this point I'm going to assume that conclusions from epistemically reliable observation methods are valid grounds for ontological conclusions. Later in the paper I will address anti-realist realist rejection of the inference from epistemic qualities of a theory to ontological assertions about the world.


4http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scanning_tunneling_microscope


5My suggestion is not that utility on its own is the arbiter of Truth, but in the observable world, even the most skeptical of philosophers considers it, along with epistemic reasons, in how they live their daily lives. Why not, in some cases, extend this to the theoretical realm?