Wednesday, 18 February 2026

Metaphysics: Merely Verbal Disputes About Statues and Lumps of Clay?

 

I was always fascinated by the metaphysical debates about lumps of clay constituting statues, inpieces and outpieces, and so on. More correctly, I was fascinated by the fact that some philosophers clearly find these subjects fascinating. It’s not that they aren’t “relevant to everyday life” (I don’t know what that means): it’s that I couldn’t see what they were about at all. Very rarely are the metaphysical implications of these debates spelled out. That’s if they have any implications at all…

The Australian philosopher David Chalmers’ wrote a paper called ‘Verbal Disputes’. The following passage is part of the introduction to that paper:

“Is there a distinction between questions of fact and questions of language? Many philosophers have said no. [ ] Intuitively, a dispute between two parties is verbal when the two parties agree on the relevant facts about a domain of concern, and just disagree about the language used to describe that domain.”

Personally, I don’t entirely agree with this neat division between questions of fact and questions of language. But this isn’t the place to go into that. (See my ‘Merely Verbal Ado About Nothing: David Chalmers, Facts, Consciousness’.) More relevantly, the American philosopher Theodore Sider (to be featured in this essay) does agree with David Chalmers, at least to some degree.

According to the philosopher David Manley, the notion of merely verbal dispute is

“[m]otivated in part by intuitions of shallowness, they argue that the dispute is merely verbal, or that the disputants are not making truth-evaluable claims at all”.

Some readers will see that this passage assumes a clear position on what is and what isn’t truth-evaluable. Sider, for one, may not accept this position.

The American philosopher Craig Callender spots a specific problem with the metaphysical issues to be discussed in this essay. He writes:

“The reason is that it’s hard to imagine what feature of reality determines whether a fist is a new object or not. How would the world be different if hands arranged fist-like didn’t constitute new objects?”

The begged answer to that leading question is: No difference whatsoever.

Now we’ll rewrite that passage to make it relevant to what will follow:

The reason is that it’s hard to imagine what feature of reality determines whether a statue is a new object or not. How would the world be different if particles arranged statue-wise didn’t constitute a new object?

The Classification of x

The following essay is at least partially about different ways to classify — or even see/observe — the same thing. Sider writes:

“Imagine a takeover theorist from Mars. Instead of sorts like statue and piece of clay, beloved of Earthly takeover theorists, Martian takeover theorists speak of sorts like:

“outpiece: piece of clay located outdoors, no matter how shaped

“inpiece: piece of clay located indoors, no matter how shaped”

Sider implicitly stresses the earlier words, “the same thing”. So of course a Martian could classify any given x as an “outpiece” or an “inpiece”. People on Earth classify x as a “piece of clay” or a “statue”. Sider would argue that they’re all still classifying x — i.e., the same thing. In his own words:

“Of course, whether the clay is indoors or outdoors is irrelevant to what objects exist.”

Regardless of conceptual plurality, the object still exists… It always remains an object.

What has just been quoted includes examples which have been popular in analytic metaphysics in recent years. Is a piece of clay the same thing as the statue it constitutes? After all, the piece of clay and the (clay) statue take up the same spatial dimensions and share all their properties (unless one is a 4-dimensionalist). The takeover theorist believes that the piece of clay becomes a statue. Others argue that there are two objects in the same space at the same time. The Martian, on the other hand, sees both the piece of clay and the statue (or the clay that’s been made into a statue) as an outpiece or an inpiece, depending on whether it’s indoors or outdoors…

But none of these positions are argued for or against in this essay.

Sider himself take a metaphysically-realist position, but not on statues, pieces of clay, outpieces and inpieces.

Manley on Metaphysical Realism

David Manley captures Sider’s position (though he isn’t referring to Sider) when he writes the following:

“[M]ost contemporary metaphysicians think of themselves as concerned, not primarily with the representations of language and thoughts, but with the reality that is represented.”

In this case, then, contemporary metaphysicians are concerned with the value of the variable x.

As a metaphysical realist, then, perhaps Sider would argue that the true metaphysician is only concerned with x, not with whether the sortals “statue”, “piece of clay”, “inpiece” and “outpiece” are correctly applied to x. Yet how can Sider say anything at all about x without the use of sortals or concepts? What would he say about it?

In any case, Sider claims that “the realist picture requires the ‘ready-made-world’”, and that “there must be a structure that is mandatory for inquirers to discover”. So what have statues, inpieces, outpieces and even lumps of clay to with the this ready-made world? Moreover, in ‘Ontological Realism’, Sider writes:

“The point of metaphysics is to discern the fundamental structure of the world.”

Again, what have statues, etc. got to do with the fundamental structure of the world? Sider believes that there are “predicates that carve nature at the joints, by virtue of referring to genuine ‘natural’ properties”. He continues:

“The world has a distinguished structure, a privileged description

. [ ] There is an objectively correct way to ‘write the book of the world’.”

Sider believes that there is an objectively correct way to write the book of the world’. This means that it’s possible that a metaphysical book may well offer us the truth about the world. Yet this goes against so much which has been written against metaphysics in the 20th and 21st centuries.

More importantly, then, Sider argues that

“[e]veryone agrees that this realist picture prohibits truth from being generally mind-dependent”.

Statues are certainly mind-dependent. Inpieces and outpieces are dependent on the minds of Martians. A lump of clay is a little bit more problematic. However, a lump of clay certainly isn’t a part of either physics or metaphysics.

What is x?

We can now ask: What is this x before its classed as a “outpiece”, “piece of clay”, “statue”, etc? Perhaps Sider may admit that he couldn’t really say anything about x without relying on some “labels”. Alternatively, we can that say x is whatever is within a given set of spatial dimensions.

In a sense, it’s obvious that a Martian wouldn’t class x as either a “statue” or “piece of clay” if it has never come across statues or pieces of clay.

Sider explains the Martian position when he says that “[t]his inpiece exists so long as the clay is indoors”, and “[w]hen an outpiece is brought indoors, they say, the sort ‘inpiece’ takes over, the outpiece goes out of existence, and a new inpiece comes into existence”. This is an odd use of the word “exists”. It is existence via classification. An x exists in all cases, whether it’s a statue, piece of clay, inpiece or outpiece. Thus, only exists qua outpiece if it’s outdoors. Similarly, x only exists qua statue if it’s shaped into a statue. x exists throughout these changes…

But what is x?

Does this fuss and bother have any metaphysical import? Is it all merely verbal? Sider writes:

“The Earthling and the Martian agree that she holds a single object in her hand, but they disagree over what its sort is.”

Okay. Is it all about sortals? Here we have an agreement — the Earthling and the Martian are both talking about “a single object in her hand”. Perhaps Sider would stress the fact that they’re both talking about the same object or x. But where does that get us? What is this x or object? More importantly, can anything else be said about it without sortals, concepts, etc?

Sortal Pluralism

Sider adds to his argument by stating the following:

“They cannot both be right, since the same object cannot both continue and cease to exist.”

There isn’t much of a complication here. The same object exists. It doesn’t cease to exist. However, x under the sortal “outpiece” does cease to exist, qua outpiece, when brought indoors. Or, rather, the sortal “outpiece” ceases to be applicable when the object is brought indoors. So, loosely, the sortal “outpiece” ceases to applicable, even if x remains.

It follows from all this that if

“our own Earthly takeover theorist must say that the Martian is mistaken: inpieces and outpieces simply do not exist”

then the Earthling is wrong about the Martian being wrong. Not because the Earthling has a mistaken ontology, but because there is no right or wrong in this case. It isn’t wrong of the Martian to classify x as an outpiece or inpiece. It isn’t wrong of the Earthling to classify x as a “statue” or “piece of clay”. Yet perhaps if the Martian and Earthling went beyond mere naming, then either or both could be right or wrong. After all, if x is outside and a statue, then it’s still outside. The Martian isn’t required to class x as a “statue”, and the Earthling isn’t required to class x as an “outpiece”.

Metaphysical Realism?

Sider acknowledges the following:

“The Earthly takeover theorist’s choice of sorts suspiciously mirrors the words we here on Earth happen to have coined. We could have invented different words; we could have gone the way of the Martians and introduced words for inpieces and outpieces rather than statues and pieces of clay.”

Some readers may say that it’s not only about sortals of classification. All sorts of identity conditions are attached to the use of a specific sortal. But even here neither the Martian nor the Earthling are in the wrong. After all, can’t x be both an outpiece and a statue? x can be an outpiece and a statue if it is indoors. And can’t be both an inpiece and a statue if it is outside.

So how can the Earthling say that “the true objects are pieces of clay and statues, not inpieces and outpieces” if the piece of clay and statue are outside?

Sider’s conclusion is correct:


“Believing in pieces of clay and statues to the exclusion of inpieces and outpieces would be anthropocentric.”

Why is this case problematic? Is it problematic? The solution seems obvious. x can be both a statue and an inpiece. Or x can be both a piece of clay and an outpiece. In fact, many sortals can be applied to x. It’s certainly not contradictory to label the same x as both an “outpiece” and a “piece of clay”. When we come across a contradiction, it is only then that we’d to do some deeper analysis? That hasn’t occurred yet. But readers can suppose that it could do.

All along, it can be argued that Sider believes that a metaphysician must deal with deeper issues than these mere disagreements about classification.

Ontological Nihilism

Sider gets the conceptual plurality position across when he says that


“sensory experiences do not tell us whether there exist only particles, or whether there exists in addition objects composed of those particles”.

This point is raised in relation to the position of nihilism in ontology.

Thus, yet again, we have the same x, which different beings (including Martians) classify in different ways. On the surface, and even under the surface, it seems like a simple verbal dispute to argue that there are only particles arranged statue-wise or that there is a statue. Of course, this subject has been debated to death in analytic philosophy, and I can admit that I don’t know all the arguments in favour of nihilism, or all the arguments against nihilism. Yet perhaps that doesn’t matter if the position adopted in this essay is correct. How can anything conclusively establish that x is a case of particles arranged statue-wise or that x is an actual statue? As Sider has already said, sensory experience alone can’t decide this issue. Nor can physics.

Sider on Universals

To Sider, it isn’t sortals or concepts that matter when it comes to x or to anything else — it’s universals. Sider provides his own example:

“[T]hese universals are related to one another in such a way that any instances of the first two [methane and oxygen] react to produce instances of the second two [carbon dioxide and water]. In short: the universals methane and oxygen necessitate the universals carbon dioxide and water.”

This isn’t only about universals: it’s also about universals necessitating other universals.

Now take the universal electron. What do all electrons share in virtue of which they are electrons? According to Sider:

Physics tells us that all electrons have exactly the same charge. So according to physics the electrons have this property in common.”

There is more to it than that. It’s because “all electrons have exactly the same charge” that physicists conclude that they “plays a basic role in extremely well confirmed physical explanations of much of what happens in the world”. So is it the case that Sider has been talking about the properties accepted by physics all along? If that’s the case, then it may seem to some readers that if these metaphysicians do tie their metaphysics to physics, then surely that’s a good thing. At least they can now rein themselves in.

The x which has often been referred to in this essay may involve Sider talking about, not electrons as such, but the universal electron. In fact, he comes clean about this connection to physics when he states the following:

David Armstrong, a leading contemporary proponent of the sparse universals idea, holds that only properties used in scientific explanations are genuine universals.”

 

Thus, statue, inpiece, outpiece and even lump of clay can’t be genuine universals.




Wednesday, 4 February 2026

How To Achieve the Objective View From Nowhere

 

The following essay is a response to Thomas Nagel’s paper ‘Subjective and Objective’. (Nagel later wrote a book called The View From Nowhere.) How on earth is this view from nowhere achieved? How does a subject detach himself from (to use Nagel’s own words) “place, a special type of life and awareness”? Where is nowhere, and what is it like? How does a human subject stop being a “particular” and start existing nowhere?


Image from Wikipedia.

Thomas Nagel tells us of the existential situation he believed we all find ourselves in:

“Perhaps the problem takes its purest form in a sense of incredulity that one should be anyone in particular, a specific individual of a particular species existing at a particular time and place in the universe.”

The words above parallel, and broaden out, the well-known quote from Wittgenstein in which he says: “It is not how the world is that is mystical, but that it exists.”

Yet it could never be the case that we were no one in particular, or that we weren’t a specific individual of no particular species existing at no particular time and place in the universe. We do find ourselves to be ourselves as homo sapiens existing in 2025 on planet Earth.

Is this some kind of problem? More particularly, is it a problem for objectivity?

Nagel admitted his “psychological” motivation toward objectivity. He wrote:

“The power of the impulse to transcend oneself and one’s species is so great, and its rewards so substantial, that it is not likely to be seriously baffled by the admission that objectivity has its limits.”

Not many people attempt to transcend themselves. Perhaps they won’t even understand what this means. Transcending one’s species, and all its contingent factors, is even more odd. After all, the impulse to transcend oneself is a characteristics of our species.

Nagel on Subjectivity and Objectivity

Thomas Nagel in 1978. ‘Subjective and Objective’ was published in 1979. Image: Wiki Commons

Nagel told us about the subjective situation we all find ourselves in too:

“At one end is the point of view of a particular individual, having a specific constitution, situation, and relation to the rest of the world.”

We can’t do anything about our specific constitution, our current situation and our current relations to the rest of the world. They’re given. We can change our situation and relation to the rest of the world. However, if we were to do that, then we’d simply find ourselves in another subjective situation, and with other relations to the rest of the world.

If subjectivity is related to selves/persons, their senses, emotions, etc., then Nagel believed that objectivity is achieved by moving away from selves/persons, their senses, emotions, etc. As Nagel himself put it:

“The pursuit of objectivity therefore involves a transcendence of the self in two ways: a transcendence of particularity and a transcendence of one’s type.”

Who is doing the transcending? The self. Thus, must the self transcend the same self? Can a self ever transcend his or her particularity and type? A self can question himself, criticise himself, etc. However, can a self achieve the level of transcendence Nagel had in mind?

Nagel continued:

“Objective transcendence aims at a representation of what is external to each specific point of view: what is there or what is of value in itself, rather than for anyone. [ ] And the enterprise assumes that what is represented is detachable from the mode of representation [ ].”

How is that transcendence of all points of view achieved? Nagel tells us what we should aim for, but not how it can be achieved. Saying that objective transcendence aims at a representation of what is external to each specific point of view tells us what we should aim for, not how it can be done. Nagel also tells us that we should aim at detaching what is represented from all modes of representation, but not how that can be done.

How to Abstract Yourself

Nagel’s solution to our subjective state is for the individual to involve himself in a process of abstraction. Take the following passage:

“From here the direction of movement toward greater objectivity involves, first, abstraction from the individual’s specific spatial, temporal, and personal position in the world, then from the features that distinguish him from other humans, then gradually from the forms the forms of perception and action characteristic of humans, and away from the narrow range of a human scale in space, time, and quantity, toward a conception of the world which as far as possible is not the view from anywhere within it.”

First of all, what is this abstraction from the individual’s specific spatial, temporal, and personal position in the world? How do we know that an individual has achieved such an abstraction? How do we know that we have done so?

The abstraction which particularly stands out in the passage above is from the forms of perception and action characteristic of humans. This is hard to make sense of as it stands. The words “action characteristic of humans” imply that this is an abstraction required to create an objective moral point of view. Here again, the same questions can be asked.

What would a conception of the world which as far as possible is not the view from anywhere within it be like? What is it like to have that conception of the world? Can readers even imagine what it would be like? Is it, therefore, some kind of ideal we should aim at? How did Nagel himself manage on this quest?

Nagel goes into less abstract detail about the situation we find ourselves in:

“It is recognised that one’s own point of view can be distorted as a result of contingencies of one’s makeup or situation.”

So how do we bootstrap ourselves out of this situation? Surely human persons will always suffer from distortions because we can never escape from the contingencies of our makeup or situation. Nagel continued:

“To compensate for these distortions it is necessary either to reduce dependence on those forms of perception or judgment in which they are most marked, or to analyse the mechanisms of distortion and discount for them explicitly.”

Is it even possible to reduce dependence on those forms of perception or judgment? What would the situation look like after we’d done so? And even if we did do so, it would be the distorted human person who was attempting to rid himself of such mechanisms of distortion.

We can, of course, self-correct. However, this passage is so abstract it’s hard to work out what Nagel meant. Which forms of perception was he referring to? Was Nagel attempting to rid himself of all forms of perception in order to escape into some rationalist state which gave him the view from nowhere?

And if a person were to explicitly claim he’d discounted the mechanisms of distortion, how would others know that he’d done so? How would he know that he’d done so?

Nagel on Objectivity and the View From Nowhere

Nagel suggested a means to establish a view from nowhere. He wrote:

“We must admit that the move toward objectivity reveals what things are like in themselves as opposed to how they appear; not just how they appear to one, relatively austere point of view as opposed to others.”

Readers can assume (or accept) that science attempts to achieve this move toward objectivity. Physics certainly attempts to factor out subjective appearances. (This occurs with the camera experiment. See later section).

Laypersons may wonder what the phrase “what things are like in themselves” means. For surely if such an access to things in themselves were ever achieved, it would be achieved by a human person who must still rely on appearances and a point of view.

In addition, one point of view can be partially squared with many other points of view in an intersubjective manner. It can be argued that an intersubjective point of view is still not an objective point of view. (Many have used the terms “intersubjective” and “objective” as synonyms.) Indeed, if something is objective, then it can’t be a point of view at all.

Here’s Nagel offering us more detail on the view from nowhere:

“[The objective viewpoint’s] essential character, in all the examples cited, is externality or detachment. The attempt is made to view the world not from a place within it, or from the vantage point of a special type of life and awareness, but from nowhere in particular and no form of life in particular at all.”

How on earth is this view from nowhere achieved? How does a subject detach himself from place, a special type of life and awareness? Where is nowhere, and what is it like? How does a human subject stop being a particular and start existing nowhere? Perhaps Nagel answered these questions when he continued with the following words:

“The object is to discount for the features of our pre-reflective outlook that make things appear to us as they do, and thereby to reach an understanding of things as they really are. We flee the subjective under the pressure of an assumption that everything must be something not to any point of view, but in itself. To grasp this by detaching more and more from our own point of view is the unreachable ideal at which the pursuit of objectivity aims.”

Nagel didn't really answer those questions. He didn’t say how these feats can be pulled off. It was more a case of Nagel telling us what we should strive at.

There are two phrases in the passage above which are very Kantian in nature: “an understanding of things as they really are”, and “everything must be something not to any point of view, but in itself”. What are things as they really are? How would we know that we’re “viewing” something as it is in itself?

Nagel admitted that total detachment is “the unreachable ideal”. Yet if it were truly unreachable, then why discuss it at all? It can be supposed that the answer to that question is that we can get closer and closer to such an ideal, without ever actually reaching it. Yet how would we know we were 50% close to the ideal? Or even 99% close to it? (This is similar to a problem with Karl Popper’s notion of verisimilitude.)

Scientific Instruments and Wigner’s Friend

Nagel believed that science achieves at least a level of objectivity. It does so by using scientific instruments of measurement. In detail:

“This is why scientific measurement interposes between us and the world instruments whose interactions with the world are of a kind that could be detected by a creature not sharing the human senses.”

Basically, Nagel was saying that these instruments allow scientists to forgo their human senses in order to rely on something more objective. It is obviously true that a scientific instrument of measurement doesn’t require its own senses. However, it’s still designed and made by human persons to be used and understood by human persons. This makes it difficult to understand what Nagel meant by “could be detected by a creature not sharing the human senses”.

The scientific instrument does indeed interact with the world. It even interacts with the world when no scientist is present. However, it’s still designed and created to be read or understood by scientists. Thus, indirectly the senses of scientists are still part of the story.

In a roundabout manner, the physicist Michio Kaku tackles this issue in terms of the specific case of human observers vs cameras. Kaku writes:

“Some people, who dislike introducing consciousness into physics, claim that a camera can make an observation of an electron, hence wave functions can collapse without resorting to conscious beings.”

Prima facie, the words “a camera can make an observation of an electron” seem odd. It seems anthropomorphic to claim that a camera — alone! — can observe anything. Isn’t it the case that scientists use cameras in order to observe things?

Kaku then raises the following problem:

“But then who is to say if the camera exists? Another camera is necessary to ‘observe’ the first camera and collapse its wave function. Then a second camera is necessary to observe the first camera, and a third camera to observe the second camera, ad infinitum.”

This is a concrete example of the problem of Wigner’s Friend.

Kaku’s words are about a camera which is supposed to observe a cat (or a quantum system) all on its own. He also seems to be bringing up the issue of this camera’s very existence as it was before it too was observed. Or, at the very least, Kaku brings up the issue of the camera’s wavefunction itself being required in order for it to so much as exist!

On the Nagelian or objective side, isn’t it the case that the scientist’s camera still registered something regardless of any minds that later made sense of (or interpreted) that registration? (Schrödinger himself talked in terms of minds “giv[ing] it meaning”.) Some readers may question about the word “registered”. In this case at least, all “registered” means is the following:

Prior to observation, something left some kind of physical imprint on the camera.

Yet it’s still the case that what the camera supposedly registered (or “observed”) may not have any role to play until what it registered is registered (or observed) by another camera too. More relevantly, what the camera registered (or observed) may not have any role to play until it’s interpreted by an actual scientist.

To return to Nagel’s position.

The whole point of the scientific instrument is to achieve some level of objectivity. Has that been achieved? According to Nagel, objectivity

“requires not only a departure from one’s individual viewpoint, but also, as far as possible, departure from a specifically human or even mammalian viewpoint”.

Readers can suppose that a scientific instrument achieves that to some level, or at least it helps scientists achieve that.

Conclusion: Nagel Against Nagel

As with his essay on panpsychism, Nagel argued against his own position. [See my ‘Thomas Nagel on Panpsychism in 1979'.] Take this passage:

[S]top assuming that understanding of the world and our position in it can always be advanced by detaching from that position and subsuming whatever appears from there under a single more comprehensive conception.”

It’s hard to fathom how such a detachment is supposed to work, and how we gain a single more comprehensive conception. Thus, Nagel then detached himself (or at least raises the possibility of doing so) from this desire to detach oneself. He continued:

“Perhaps the best or truest view is not obtained by transcending oneself as far as possible. Perhaps reality should not be identified with objective reality.”

That is what Nagel had so far attempted to do in this essay: transcend himself. Yet it can be argued that one can’t transcend oneself because it’s always the self who’s transcending the same self.

The last sentence is interesting. Nagel seems to be suggesting that either there’s no such thing as objective reality, or that it can never be found. There’s even a hint at phenomenology here in that reality may actually be subjective reality. That would mean that the belief in any access to an truly objective reality is a pipe dream.