Wednesday, 26 August 2015

Wittgenstein's Generalisations About Generalisations



Firstly here's a quote from the philosopher Gilbert Ryle in which he talks about Wittgenstein’s general distaste for generalisations:


“…he now [i.e., the late Wittgenstein] avoids any general statement of the nature of philosophy, not because this would be to say the unsayable, but because it would be to say a scholastic and therefore an obscuring thing. In philosophy, generalizations are unclarifications. The nature of philosophy is to be taught by producing concrete specimens of it.” (1951)


So what about Wittgenstein himself? He wrote:


Our craving for generality has [as one] source … our preoccupation with the method of science. I mean the method of reducing the explanation of natural phenomena to the smallest possible number of primitive natural laws; and, in mathematics, of unifying the treatment of different topics by using a generalization. Philosophers constantly see the method of science before their eyes, and are irresistibly tempted to ask and answer in the way science does. This tendency is the real source of metaphysics, and leads the philosopher into complete darkness. I want to say here that it can never be our job to reduce anything to anything, or to explain anything. Philosophy really is 'purely descriptive'.” (1933-1935)


When Wittgenstein used the phrase “craving for generality” to express his position towards what he saw to be Western philosophy’s prime vice, he was himself generalising about Western philosophy.


To state that


All traditional Western philosophy generalises about things which can't be captured by such generalisations.


is to generalise (even if we drop the quantifier “all”). Similarly, the statement that


All traditional philosophy is “concerned with the general rather than the particular”.


is itself concerned with the general (i.e., all Western philosophy) rather than the particular.


If one classes oneself as a Wittgensteinian particularist (even if one doesn't actually use that term), that statement is a generalisation about those who can be called generalists and also about what can be called generalism. (For that matter, it's also to implicitly generalise about particularists and particularism.) It's of no consequence at all if particular Wittgensteinians don't use these terms (or indeed any ists or isms). They may not use such words; though they're still tacitly committed to the concepts which these words express.


To repeat:


“All generalizations are unclarifications.”


is a generalisation about (all) generalisations.


In order for Wittgenstein’s position to have a point (or in order for him to demonstrate his own point) there must be (or there needs to be) at least one generalisation that's not an “unclarification”. Though if there's at least one such generalisation that isn't also an unclarification, perhaps it could be (as Wittgensteinian might have claimed) the very generalisation that


“All generalisations are unclarifications.”


If the initial generalisation isn't taken to be the sole exception to what it claims, then it can be rewritten in this way:


All generalisations - including this one - are unclarifications.


This self-referential statement therefore allows itself to be either an exception to itself (i.e., if it didn’t include the central clause) or to be an actual example of what it claims. Though if it's not an exception to its own claim, then it too must be an unclarification. If it is an exception to what it claims, then there it may be the one and only one exception. Thus


All generalisations - including the one you're now reading - are unclarifications.


can be taken as a kind of proof (or just an example) of what it claims (i.e., if it's actually taken as an unclarification). If the statement about all generalisations implies (or entails) that it too is a generalisation (if about generalisations), then it must also suffer from the same kind of unclarity that's taken to be a property of all other generalisations.


However, Wittgenstein's statement about all generalisations is a second-order (or metalinguistic) generalisation. That is, it's a generalisation about generalisations: not a generalisation about events or things which aren't themselves taken to be linguistic generalisations. If all first-order generalisations (i.e., those in the “object language”) are unclarifications, then a second-order generalisation about first-order generalisations can be seen either being free from the property unclarity (i.e., due to its second-order status); or as being itself a victim of such a property (i.e., perhaps it's not an actual or genuine metalinguistic statement).


Note: Lycan's Paradox (at least according to Michael Clark) also deals with generalisations. More specifically, it deals with the statement, “Most generalisations are false". It states that “a minority [of generalisations] must be true”. However, since Wittgenstein's own meta-generalisation is about generalisations (one which claims they're all false or unclarifications), it's even less likely to be true than the first-order generalisations it has as its target.

References

Ryle, Gilbert. (1951) 'Wittgenstein', from Analysis, vol. 12, pp. 1-9

Wittgenstein, Ludwig. (1946-1949) Philosophical Investigations
-- (1933-1935)The Blue Book



Tuesday, 25 August 2015

Heterological & Homological Metalinguistic Statements




Various statements can taken as being either homological or heterological in nature.

A heterological predicate, statement or sentence is one that doesn't apply to itself.

The statement “All truth-claims are relative”, for example, may not (necessarily) be self-applicable.

Alternatively, other statements can be taken as being homological in nature.

A homological statement is one that does apply to itself.

To take statement “All truth-claims are relative” again: that may (or even must) itself be relative to context, utterer, etc.

However, the relativist statement

All truth-claims are relative.”

the statement

All theories and statements must be open to possible falsification.”

and

Every statement must be verifiable or testable in order to be meaningful.”

may all be heterological statements. That is, these statements may not be self-applicable.

Why is that?

Primarily because they can be taken to be second-order (or metalinguistic) statements.

Take the relativist statement again.

That claim may be about (or have) first-order truth-claims in its domain (or in its “object language”) which aren't themselves (generally speaking) about truth-claims themselves. They are about objects, events, happenings, etc. in the world. Of course such second-order (or metalinguistic) statements can themselves be related to the metalinguistic frameworks in which they're stated or even to yet higher-order metalinguistic frameworks.

These meta-statements don't deny that they have the property of being related to frameworks. The statements may concede (as it were) their own necessary status vis-à-vis higher metalinguistic languages. They may also concede that their very own expressions are self-applicable. That is, they may concede (or admit) their own self-referentiality or homologicality.

However, Thomas Nagel, for example, has said that the relativist statement must be a victim of relativity itself if it's taken as true. So what Nagel says about relativism generally can, in effect, be said of the statemental formulation of relativism that's used here. And if that’s the case, then why should we pay it any attention? Though isn’t Nagel assuming:

i) He can escape from relativity himself?
         ii) That relativists deny self-relativity?
        iii) Or, alternatively, that the relativist himself can't escape from relativity?

Not all these possibilities may actually be the case.

Reference

Nagel, Thomas. (1997) The Last Word

Monday, 24 August 2015

Truth: Its Metaphysics, Epistemology and Semantics


We can say that epistemology essentially concerns itself with two things: truth and our “relationship to truth”. Many philosophers, however, would say that truth simpliciter (rather than our knowledge of truth) is a metaphysical (... or a semantic... or a philosophy of language or mind) issue, not primarily one of our knowledge and therefore epistemology.
 
In terms of truth being a metaphysical issue.

This is the case because various philosophers see truth as either some kind of property or even some kind of entity. Not only that: a property that is mind-independent (even if minds can come to know the truth). Strictly speaking, then, truth is a question of ontology, which is a branch of metaphysics.

As for truth being deemed an issue for the philosophy of language.

We can say that this is the case because truth is seen as a property of sentences or statements. Yet even here we smuggle in metaphysics by talking of the properties of statements. What kind of property is that? How does the property truth attach itself to sentences? What is the relation between the statement and its truth-property?

The philosopher of language can circumvent metaphysics by saying that truth is literally a linguistic property, not a metaphysical one. That is, saying that truth is linguistic (or semantic) is a reference to the linguistic fact that we can add the predicate ‘is true’ to the statement “Dolphins are mammals”. Truth is a semantic endorsement of a prior truth-claim or statement. Thus truth- deflationists, for example, argue that we can easily drop the “is true” from the statement without any loss of power or meaning. In that case, the semanticist can simply get rid of truth altogether (as is the case with semantic naturalisers).

Earlier I made the twofold split between truth and our knowledge of truth. We can say, however, that truth must come before our knowledge of truth. Or the metaphysics or semantics of truth must come before epistemology simply because of the fact that we can’t have knowledge of a truth if we don’t already know what truth is. However, we can epistemologise (as it were) truth by arguing that truth is somehow a function of our knowledge of truth (or of the tools and procedures required to discover truth).

A similar manoeuvre can be found in semantics.

Many logical positivists, for example, originally argued that the meaning of a sentence is the means we use to verify it. And verification is an epistemological issue in that we require epistemic tools and procedures in order to verify a statement or proposition. So just as meaning was seen as a function of epistemic verification, we can now argue that the truth of a statement is a question - or function - of the epistemic tools and procedures we require to either construct truth or discover it. And if all we have are such epistemic tools and procedures (i.e., not a property we can call ‘truth’), then we can become truth-deflationists (or truth-naturalisers) by simply getting rid of truth altogether (or, at the least, getting rid of the predicate ‘is true’). Thus we can conclude that naturalised epistemology basically gets rid of the metaphysics of truth.

Thursday, 20 August 2015

A Coherent Madman and His Little Self-referential Problem


 

The madman or religious maniac can be entirely coherent and systematic yet also be completely divorced from the world. His system of beliefs may also be entirely self-contained and even self-generated.

Alternatively, his set of beliefs may be based on certain foundational premises, from which his entire system is derived. However, the foundational premises may be utter nonsense even though their implications and entailments are valid (i.e., valid, though not sound).

For example, one such foundational premise may be:

Every statement in this Holy Book is true.”

Thus not only would he have numerous statements which he could believe (i.e., the ones in his Holy Book); he could also believe all the propositions that are entailed or implied by these statements.

For example, one such statement in the Holy Book could be:

Accept everything that your heart says is true.”

From this statement he could infer numerous other statements of belief that aren't even directly connected to the original statements he's accepted in the Holy Book itself. However, this could also lead him to reject certain statements in the Holy Book.

For example, his heart may tell him that certain statements in the Holy Book are untrue. He would therefore have a tailor-made system of beliefs which both makes him accept many statements in the Holy Book and yet also allows him to reject the ones he thinks are untrue (or which he simply dislikes).

Then he'd have a problem with self-reference. That is, the Holy Book says of itself:

Everything in this book is true.”

Though another statement in the Holy Book also says:

Accept what your heart says is true.”

Which he does. His heart tells him that certain statements in the Holy Book are false. So according to the Holy Book and the man himself, the Holy Book says that everything within it is true and that everything one’s heart says is true. Though the heart says that certain statements in the Holy Book are false. Thus the Holy Book says that everything it says is true; though it also accepts a statement that makes some of its other statements false.

If this man hadn't accepted the foundational statement that “Everything this book says is true”, he wouldn’t have accepted the statement that one should accept what the heart says (i.e., even if it says that certain statements in the Holy Book are false).

We can say that there are two systems now: the man’s and the Holy Book’s. The man’s system grew out of the Holy Book; though the Holy Book allowed him to disregard certain statements within it.

Of course if the Holy Book says that “Everything in this book is true” then that statement itself must also be true. Though, again, the Holy Book contains a statement which allows the possibility that a person needn't accept everything within it.

There is also the self-referential problem of the Holy Book referring to itself. Say that the statement “Everything in this book is true” was said or written at time t1; though the work itself wasn't finished until time t2. Then that statement about the book (which is within the book) was written or said before the book was actually completed. If that's the case, how was it known at time t1 that everything said or written after would be true if there was no knowledge of such future statements?

There are two answers to this.

One is that although the statement “Everything in this book is true” at the beginning of the book, it mightn't have been written or said until the end of the book. It may be entirely coincidental that the book was compiled with the self-referential statement at the beginning rather than at the end.

Another answer would be that God created the entire book in one go. Therefore it's just a fortuitous that the self-referential statement is at the beginning. In that case, that statement is neither at the end nor the beginning of the book. All statements came together at the same moment in the mind of God. Of course we aren't omniscient like God; therefore our version of the book must contain that statement somewhere in the work: either at the beginning, the end or even in the middle. Again, if God is outside of time, then it makes no sense to say that the statement of self-reference occurs at a particular time within the book. The Holy Book is an abstract object in the mind of God and so it doesn't partake of temporal sequence.

However, isn’t

i) “Everything within this book is true.”

similar to

    ii) “Everything within this statement is true.”?
(This is a version of the well-known statement, “This statements is false.”)

However, they're not identical in form. The first sentence (i) seemingly refers to something else – viz., “this book”; whereas the second statement (ii) refers only to itself qua statement. However:

The book the first statement refers to is the book that contains the statement that refers to the book.

So statement (i) is still self-referential; though not entirely so because there are many statements in the book other than “Everything within this book is true”. That statement refers both to itself and every other statement in the book. If the self-referential statement weren't true, then neither would all the other statements in the book be true.

The second statement (ii) above is more clearly self-referential than the first statement. Perhaps it only achieves this because it is without content. It says of itself that everything within itself is true. However, in a certain sense there's nothing within itself. What is this “everything” that's “within” the statement? It quantifies using the term “everything” . Though the only thing that's in the statement (other than the subject-term) is the predicate “is true”. How can the clause “everything within this statement” be true? It's not making a claim about anything other than itself.

Thus

Everything within this statement is true” is true if and only if everything within statement S is true (its quasi truth conditions).

Thus the statement is true if and only if it is true. It doesn't parallel the form of the T sentence

The sentence ‘Snow is white’ is true iff snow it white.

because here the predicate “is true” refers to the sentence that claims that snow is white. Thus there's a reference to both snow being white and to the sentence which says “Snow is white”. This is unlike the truth predicate in the self-referential statement because this truth predicate applies to both a statement with truth conditions (i.e., snow's being white) and to the metalinguistic sentence that says “The sentence....' is true iff '....”.

Wednesday, 19 August 2015

Is Consciousness the Brain Carrying Out Computations?


 

Hilary Putnam once held the position (i.e., in the 1960s) that consciousness is literally the brain computing. That also had the implication (for some people) that it's not necessarily the brain that causes consciousness: it's computation itself. This is the case even if it's computation of a particular kind (in conjunction with its physical or biological implementation) that's required for consciousness. Thus it followed from this, according to Putnam, that if computation is everything, then consciousness can occur in a computer or even in Putnam's own “brain in a vat”. Again, what matters are the computations, not the physical basis of those computations. (To be accurate, in his 1967 paper, Putnam hardly refers to consciousness as such. He talks about “mental states”.)

Daniel Dennett also argued that the computations of the brain are consciousness. This doesn't mean that such brain computations result in consciousness in some kind of causal and temporal sequence. It means that when the brain's computations occur, so too do conscious events. They're one and the same thing. Or, as Dennett himself puts it, it's not a case of brain computations occurring (in what he calls the “Cartesian Theatre”) and then we become conscious of those computations. Instead, when brain-computations occur they actually constitute consciousness. When the brain computes: that's what consciousness is. That's what we're aware of when we're conscious; though we aren't necessarily aware of them as computations (or as anything).

This is similar to John Searle's view in which he says that there's no causal and temporal sequence from a brain state to a mental state in that the mental state is the brain state. The brain state and mental state occur at one and the same time. It isn't a case of brain state at time t1 causing mental state at time t2. Both the brain state and the mental state occur at t1.

The mental state is the state as experienced from the inside (as it were); whereas the brain state could (in theory at least) be observed by neuroscientists. However, it need hardly be said that Searle doesn't believe that this has anything to do with computations (as such). In his case, it's a point about the (causal) relations between the brain and consciousness; not between computations and consciousness.

Finally, it needn't be the case that consciousness is always (or at all) computation. We can substitute all the references to 'computation' in the above with the words 'brain event' or 'brain state'; as Putnam himself did in his paper of 1967.

References

Putnam, Hilary. (1967) 'The nature of mental states', in Mind Language and Reality: Philosophical Papers, Volume 2.
Searle, John. (1997) The Mystery of Consciousness.