Michael Devitt on Laurence BonJour's Neo-Rationalism

i) Introduction

ii) Analyticity

iii) Our Rational Insight into the Necessary Features of Nature

iv) A Priori Logic?

The Australian philosopher Michael Devitt (1938-) makes an empiricist point about necessity in science. He accepts that scientists discovered that water is H₂O. However, scientists didn’t also discover “that [water] necessarily is H₂O”. In other words, “necessity is not an empirical discovery”. Or, in yet other words, “we do not simply observe the necessity of water being H₂O”.

Indeed what would such an observation of necessity be like even if conceivable? Where does this necessity come from? What does it add to the scientific or any picture? And, semantically, what does it mean to claim that “water is necessarily H₂O”?

All that said, not even empiricists believe that every entity of science can be observed or that science is literally all about observation. So Devitt adds:

“We do not observe most scientific facts: we discover them with the help of a lot of theory.”

So, at the very least, an empiricist may also add:

Theory helps us get at the empirical facts.

Yet not even scientific theory can help us discover the supposedly essential or necessary features of a given scientific fact, object or event. That because these modal terms are not in themselves scientific — they are philosophical and/or logical.

Analyticity

It’s an interesting to note that after discussing analyticity and its relation to the a priori, Michael Devitt says that the American philosopher Laurence BonJour (whom he classes as a “neo-rationalist”)

“has no more faith in attempted explanations [of the a priori] in terms of analyticity than I have and gives an excellent critique of their failings”.

In a sense, Devitt is right — and a philosopher like W.V.O Quine would have agreed with him. That is, in the first half of the 20th century analyticity was deemed to be the key to the a priori or at least to our understanding of it. (That’s one reason why Quine spent a lot of time on analyticity in his ‘Two Dogmas of empiricism’.) That said, it still seems that Laurence BonJour doesn’t need — or even want — analyticity to demonstrate his rationalism (or apriorism). He doesn’t care if analyticity “makes the a priori palatable to the modern mind”.

So why did analyticity become “palatable to the modern mind” in the first place?

It did so because it treated the a priori (as well as necessity) as primarily — or indeed only — a linguistic matter. Clearly it’s not only — or at all - a linguistic matter to BonJour himself. Synonymy of terms (or concepts) doesn’t matter to BonJour. What matters is what BonJour calls “rational insight”. (As it did to Edmund Husserl with his essences and meanings — see here.) And that has nothing much — or at all — to do with language, analytic statements or analyticity itself.

Our Rational Insight into the Necessary Features of Nature

So what does BonJour mean by “rational insight”?

In terms of a priori justification, rational insight

“occurs when the mind directly or intuitively sees or grasps or apprehends… a necessary fact about the nature or structure of reality”.

Necessity is not, then, a question of language, the synonymy of terms and all the rest. It’s about the nature (or structure) of reality itself.

Instead of talking about words, concepts or meanings, BonJour talks about “properties” or the “properties of the world”. Thus we must immediately ask how the mind can grasp a priori (or by rational insight) anything about the world.

Of course rationalists — from Plato to Thomas Nagel in our own time (see here) - have already told us about the (necessary) features or properties of the world. It was just the case that they didn’t need observations of the world (or experience generally) to tell us about them. (In Kant’s case, the necessary features — or properties - of the mind were the very “conditions of experience” of the world.)

But what does all this highfalutin stuff actually mean?

We all know what it means in the case of Plato, Kant and others. But what about Laurence BonJour in our own day? As Michael Devitt puts it:

“[O]ur problem of explaining the a priori becomes that of explaining rational insight.”

What does BonJour offer that Plato, Kant and the rest didn’t offer? Perhaps he doesn’t claim to offer us anything new. Or perhaps only his language (or his technical terms) are new. (This may be yet another case of Jacques Derrida’s “sign-substitutions”.)

I’ve asked all these questions about rational insight while already knowing that BonJour himself says that “we do not presently have anything close” to an explanation of it. Yet perhaps that in itself is no reason to reject rational insight out-of-hand — and it certainly isn’t a denial of its reality.

So perhaps rational insight is unanalysable or primitive in nature. And, if that’s the case, then this doesn’t — automatically — mean that it is “objectionably mysterious, perhaps even somehow occult”. Instead of being mysterious (or even occult) we can see rational insight as being “fundamental and irreducible” instead. And, if we accept that, then it may be “in no way puzzling or especially in need of further explanation” (BonJour, in Devitt).

That last phrase, however, is a little hard to swallow —i.e., something’s being in no need of further explanation. (Many such things have existed — and still exist — in both philosophy and science.) Devitt doesn’t like this. He seems to suggest that BonJour’s happy acceptance of the inexplicability of rational insight is brought about by his fear of the “intellectual suicide” which we’ll effectively (or seemingly) commit if we throw the a priori overboard — as many (or all?) naturalists have attempted to do.

Yet philosophical naturalists needn’t be so hard on BonJour.

That warning can be explained through a similar case.

Many people think that eliminativists — or “reductionists” — in the philosophy of mind reject things that are (as it were) staring them in the face — whether that’s consciousness, mind or qualia. The same is true with rational insight. We all have — or use — it. So just go ahead and carry out an example of modus ponens and then you’ll find it hard to reject BonJour and embrace Devitt’s epistemic eliminativism.

More technically, what none of us can reject is the “the intuitive or phenomenological appearances” (BonJour, in Devitt) of rational insight. There is (as Thomas Nagel put it, if about something else) “something it is like” to have rational insight. That something it is like is, perhaps, all we need to see where BonJour is coming from. Indeed these “appearances” must surely prove to be “extremely obvious and compelling” to all but the intellectually blind. Thus to deny rational insight is like denying the pain in one’s tooth.

Incidentally, just as what it is like to experience pain is hard to explain, so BonJour accepts rational insight “even if we can’t explain it”. That’s primarily because even though we can’t explain it; we can still know it. And that, to BonJour, is enough.

Having provisionally accepted BonJour on all the above, it can now be argued that it’s not the phenomenological reality of rational insight (or its what-it-is-likeness) that’s the problem: it’s BonJour’s long jump from there to “the necessary character of reality” (BonJour, in Devitt). We can accept everything about the phenomenology in the case of logical truth or modus ponens (though Devitt doesn’t seem to). However, this stuff about the necessary character of reality… that’s a jump if ever there was one.

Devitt himself says that “[n]othing in the phenomenology supports” this stuff about nature (or reality) and its necessary character. However, traditionally it was only the a priori (or rational insight) which (as it were) gave us anything necessary about nature (or reality). So BonJour isn’t claiming anything new here. Indeed he’s a soi-disant “old-fashioned rationalist” — so perhaps we shouldn’t expect anything too new from him (i.e., other than terminology).

Again, we can ask the following question:

What non-experiential link to nature (or reality) could support insights into its necessary character?

This is the clash made by the supposed link between non-experiential rational insight and… well, the empirical world.

A Priori Logic?

Despite what’s just been said, Devitt’s radical — or even eliminativist — position towards the a priori isn’t only aimed at this strange link between rational insight and the necessary features of nature/reality— it’s also aimed at the ostensible a priori nature of logic itself. Devitt concludes with what he calls a “nice abduction”. He writes:

“[O]ur knowledge of mathematics, logic, and the like cannot be explained a priori; an empirical explanation of it is the best.”

Yet just as it was argued that BonJour’s apriorism (or rationalism) is not entirely new, so Devitt’s extreme empiricism regarding the a priori in logic is not entirely new either. More clearly, Devitt’s words above could almost have been written by J.S. Mill (1806–1873) over a 150 years ago (see here). Yet despite Mill, that other great empiricist — David Hume (1711–1776) — happily accepted the a priori and necessary status of both logic and mathematics. Of course, there’s also some dispute about Hume’s precise position on logic and maths too (see here).

References

BonJour, Laurence, ‘Is There a Priori Knowledge?’ (2005)

Devitt, Michael, ‘There is no a Priori’ (2005)

[I can be found on Twitter here.]

Michael Devitt on Analyticity & Conceptual Containment

 

Michael Devitt tackles the frequently-used

“All bachelors and unmarried men.”

example as an ostensible case of a priori knowledge. This time, however, instead of talking about ‘synonyms’, ‘meanings’ or 'mutual definitions’, he talks in terms of concepts. In fact his statement of the case has a Kantian ring to it. He says that “the content of the concept [bachelor] ‘includes’ that of the concept [unmarried]”. Kant, though, talked of conceptual ‘containment’ rather than inclusion. And, as Quine told us about the Kantian metaphor ‘contained’, the word ‘includes’ is also difficult.

How does one concept ([bachelor]) contain or include another ([unmarried])?Anyway, because these concepts are seen this way, the above is taken to be an analytic statement or taken as being known to be true a priori.

Devitt puts his own slant on this well-known example of an analytic statement. He claims that others believed that

“simply in virtue of having a concept, a person was in possession of a 'tacit theory' about the concept; in virtue of having [bachelor], a person tacitly knew that its content included that of [unmarried]”.

We can say that if a person were asked for a definition of the word ‘bachelor’, he would say that “a bachelor is an unmarried man”. However, because his theory is tacit, he doesn't vocalise (or even sub-vocalise) that definition every time he uses the word ‘bachelor’ – perhaps he's never done so. Though when asked, he could indeed do so. We can assume that simply having heard - and then known - the definition, then that's enough for such tacit knowledge. Of course because it's tacit, he almost certainly wouldn’t talk about “conceptual containment” or one concept being contained within another. Perhaps his only technical knowledge would be definitional.

The former a priori explication of these concepts and the a priori statement above are seen as Cartesian by Devitt. We have a “privileged 'Cartesian' access to the facts about [such] concepts”. Presumably this must mean that we need no experience of concept-use and we certainly don’t need to check a dictionary. The only thing that's required is

“a reflective process of inspecting the contents of concepts to yield knowledge of the relations between them which in turn yield such knowledge as that all bachelors are unmarried”.

This is odd to those of us who see concepts as themselves (often) being the contents of statements or mental states. Concepts are often seen as being pretty primitive and therefore suitable candidates for the contents of various things. On this picture, concepts themselves have content. Thus:

The content of the concept [bachelor] is the concept [unmarried man].

Does that mean that a concept, qua content, contains another concept? Thus we would have:

[ bachelor [unmarried man]] or [unmarried man [bachelor]]

All this also went under the name of “conceptual analysis” and was similarly seen as an a priori process. Indeed at one point, because of the importance of conceptual analysis in philosophy (at least at one time), it was often stressed that philosophy itself was an essentially a priori business. Either that, or it was a way of stressing the already-taken-for-granted view that philosophy is an a priori business. (Some philosophers still believe that conceptual analysis is the primary role of a philosopher. Thus that philosophers are basically apriorists.)

Devitt also brings in the epistemic notion of justification. This seems a little out of place, prima facie, when it comes to the statement “All bachelors are unmarried men”. However, we're talking about a priori justification here. He asks us if we can justify the “proposition that all unmarrieds are unmarried were justified” (6). Well, of course it is – isn’t it? What we have here is the Quinian reduction of the analytic truth

“All bachelors are unmarried men.”

into the logical truth

“All unmarried men are unmarried.”

by the “substitution of synonym for synonym”. Again it seems, prima facie, like an odd question to ask “where does the justification for this proposition come from?” (6). Of course it's justified… Well, if it isn’t exactly justified, that’s because it doesn’t need to be because it's a logical truth. However, the apriorist has previously said that the statement “All bachelors are unmarried men” is known to be true a priori and therefore it's also justified a priori. Now it seems it doesn’t require epistemic justification because it's a disguised logical truth.

The obvious question now follows (asked earlier in Devitt’s paper): What justifies logical truths? This question wasn’t asked much until fairly recently in either philosophy or logic. Though if the analytic truth is a disguised logical truth (even though it was classed as a priori justified), then “we have not described a nonempirical way of knowing” (6) precisely because the apriorist has shifted (if he has shifted) from an analytic statement justified to be true a priori to a logical truth which hasn't received such a justification.

A question Devitt doesn't ask here is: Can logical truths be justified?

Reference

Devitt, Michael, 'There is no a Priori' (2005)

 

Is Ontic Structural Realism Merely a Philosophy of Quantum Mechanics?

This piece is a short introduction to the close relation that can be found between ontic structural realism and quantum mechanics. A more detailed commentary on the 'Ontic Structural Realism and the Philosophy of Physics' section of Everything Must Go (by James Ladyman and Don Ross) will follow shortly.

Introduction

“Current physical mathematics, especially models of quantum entanglement, are thus crucial to motivating OSR.” - Don Ross ( 'Ontic Structural Realism and Economics'

It's very clear to me that almost the entire ontic structural realism (OSR) project is motivated by findings and theories in quantum mechanics (QM). In other words, findings in the micro-world; not in the macro-world. One can immediately conclude from this that OSR certainly has very little to do with “medium-sized dry goods” (as J.L. Austin once put it) – at least as an inspiration.

In that respect, one can happily agree with the ontic structural realists (OSRs) when they say that QM isn't about “entities or objects”. The thing is, I don't really think that many philosophers (or even all educated people) ever did see protons, electrons or even atoms as objects or entities in the everyday sense.

So when a OSR says:

If you want to insist that a electron is an entity of some kind, then please show me something beyond the data and mathematical structure.

We can reply to that by saying:

But who, exactly, would disagree with the "data and maths" bit of your statement? And how strong and detailed do you think the layperson's - and even philosopher's - commitment to thinghood in the quantum domain is?

Indeed how could a layperson offer us more on an electron than a physicist or a philosopher of science? Nonetheless, it's still data about something and maths about something. Otherwise it's pure maths and there would be no real need for the word 'electron' or even for electrons themselves.

In other words, why do all (or most?) OSRs think that the people who disagree with them only have a commitment to medium-sized dry goods in every domain? That is, a commitment to only those objects they can kick?

When Dr Johnson showed Bishop Berkeley that he could kick a rock: the Bishop was unimpressed. I'm not impressed either. And most philosophers aren't.

When the OSR says that science (or physics) doesn't give us objects, we can say that this was something Berkeley has already said. It was something the British Empiricists and various kinds of idealist said. And, indeed, something many scientists have said; at least since the late 19th century.

Isn't it also the case that sections (if small ones) of the educated West have known that the billiard-ball/solar-system model of the atom is a model since, say, the 1930s? They also know that they can't kick atoms. They know that, in a sense, atoms and definitely protons aren't everyday objects or even objects at all. They also know that models are... well, models.

In any case, even more specifically than quantum mechanics (generally) being a prime motivating force for OSR, quantum entanglement specifically seems to loom large in the literature.

Clearly it's the nature of quantum phenomena which are seen as undermining “traditional metaphysics” by OSRs.

Finally, we can object to OSR without having an explicit commitment to the existence of objects/entities in every domain (specifically in QM!). We simply need to say that that there's more than numbers, equations or "structure" in physics generally and even, specifically, in quantum physics.

In the end, then, all this will depend on what the protagonists in this debate take objects to be. After all, the nature of objects (as well as their very existence) has been discussed in metaphysics for over two thousand years.

Individuals in Quantum Mechanics

As said earlier, OSRs get their point across by bringing QM into the debate.

What are said to be “individuals” or objects (though by whom?) are such things as quantum particles and other spacetime points. According to OSR, the reason why they aren't in fact individuals is logical in nature. In that sense, we're talking about the logic of quantum mechanics here.

For any thing (x) in quantum mechanics, we can say that the law of identity doesn't hold for that x. (In symbols: ∀x (x = x).) That is, x isn't identical to x .(In symbols: x ≠ x or ¬(x = x).) Now why is that?

However, it's acceptable to quantify over what OSRs call “non-individual objects”. That is, such an x can be the value of a first-order variable. Despite that, usually objects (even if non-individual) are seen to be the subject of the law of identity. Though perhaps that's only the case if they're - or if they're seen as – substances with intrinsic properties.

How does this claim fit in here? Is it that because some relations are seen as being ontologically on a par with individuals that the latter are seen not to exist? However, claiming that relations are ontologically on a par with individuals isn't the same as claiming that individuals don't exist.

Quantum Entanglement

The main point about quantum entanglement isn't that relations somehow constitute particles: it's that physicists attribute exactly the same intrinsic and relational properties to each (pair) of particles. Thus, at a prima facie level, it can be said that it's not really a surprise if OSRs deem relations to be everything.

This is how Ladyman and Ross put their position:

“... quantum particles appear sometimes to possess all the same intrinsic and extrinsic properties. If two electrons really are two distinct individuals, and it is true that they share all the same properties, then it seems that there must be some principle of individuation that transcends everything that can be expressed by the formalism in virtue of which they are individuals.” (page 148)

This means that everything that's true of a must also be true of b simply because a and b are entangled. (In symbols: (x) (y) (F) (x = y ⊃. F (x) ≡ F (y).) Such entanglement effectively means that a and b can't been disentangled or taken as two objects.

To put more meat on this bone of quantum entanglement, it can be said that if we take two fermions (such as electrons), the spin of a (in any given direction) is the “opposite” of the spin of b. a has spin in relation to b and b has spin in relation to a. Indeed a and b simply don't have spin when taken on their own. It's also said that a and b are given the same spatial wave-function when they're both in the first orbit of an atom.

Again, it's as if a and b are one. Or, at the very least, they can't be taken independently. Of course it can now be said that if a and b can never be taken independently, then in what sense are they individuals? Perhaps it can either be said that a and b are as one (i.e., they constitute one object) or that they aren't individuals/objects in the first place. That is, every individuation of a will include an individuation of b. Or, alternatively, it can be said that there can be no independent individuation of either a or b.

Opposite Spin

Ladyman and Ross argue that relations are fundamental when it comes to fermions. They believe that fermions don't have intrinsic properties – they only have relational properties. (This is also called “contextual individuality” in the literature and can also applied to all spacetime points, not just to fermions.)

Having opposite spin is clearly a relational predicate because of the word “opposite” - opposite to what?

In this case it's fermions which have opposite spin when they're in what's called the “singlet state”.

However, a problem for OSR can immediately be spotted here.

The relational property [opposite spin] can be summed up in Leibnizian logic by the term “irreflexive relation”, which is symbolised aRb (with the R symbolising “opposite spin”). However, what about a and b – the relata – themselves! Surely a and b (electrons, for example) have to be seen as individuals of some kind.

It's certainly true that when it comes to both a and b having the property opposite spin, then clearly that property is relational – indeed fundamentally relational. Thus the property is relational and (it can be argued) it's also more important than both a and b. It's certainly more important (or fundamental) than any seemingly intrinsic properties (which are rejected, by definition, by OSRs).

Again, are relational properties fundamental? This is an important question because some metaphysicians haven't seen relational properties as bona fide properties at all. Such metaphysicians don't believe that relational properties are genuine properties of objects or entities. OSRs, on the other hand, are going in the opposite direction to this.

Another question that can be asked here is:

Can relational properties individuate individuals/particles/things?

What we have here is a chicken-or-egg situation.

On the one hand it can be argued that it is individuals (or a and b) that give individuality to the relations. On the other hand it can be said that relations give individuality to individuals.

Is that a difference that makes a difference?

Perhaps the individuality of a and b is the sum of both intrinsic and relational properties. In any case, a and b are bound to have some relational properties; whether that's opposite spin or bigger/smaller than x.

On the other hand it can be argued that an individual wouldn't have the relational properties it has without also having what can be called intrinsic - or even essential - properties. At the very least, individuals must have properties which are over and above their relational properties in order to have those relational properties in the first place!

... and finally intuitions...

There's a lot of intuition-talk from Ladyman, Ross and other OSRs.

Are they referring to our intuitions about the causes of World War Two or the existence of aliens? Not really; when you scratch the surface, it seems that OSRs are talking about our intuitions regarding quantum phenomena.

Take leptons.

I have zero intuitions about leptons. I would suggest that no one really has intuitions about leptons. Perhaps people have intuitions about God, cats and thermostats; but leptons? Surely not.

I've also heard talk about our intuitions regarding such things as “intrinsic donkeyhood” (chose your own xhood).

Who on earth has intuitions about a deeply metaphysical notion such as intrinsic donkeyness, let alone about intrinsic atomness or electronness? It's a metaphysical technical term or notion. Therefore what has intrinsic donkeyhood got to do with intuitions?

Tim Van Gelder's Non-Representational Governor & Cognitive Systems

What are Symbols & Representations?

It can be said that symbols are a kind of representation; even though some symbols (or 'symbols' in inverted commas) can function - as in a computer - without having any representational content (i.e., they rely on syntax alone). Of course not all representations are model-like and they're certainly not image-like. What matters is that they represent and that representation (or symbolisation) can take many forms. (Models and images clearly don't work that way.)

Just as symbols can be connected to representations, so both are intimately connected to computational models (or theories) of mind. However, Tim van Gelder believes that the centrifugal governor isn't representational. According to van Gelder, that also means that “it cannot be computational”. (Or at the least it can't be seen as computational if computations are seen as “rule-governed manipulation[s] of symbolic representations”.) Yet “manipulable representations lie at the heart of the computational picture”. More broadly, according to the “[c]ontemporary orthodoxy”, cognition is computation. Moreover, “the mind is [seen] as a special kind of computer” in which “cognitive processes are [seen as] the rule-governed manipulation[s] of internal symbolic representations”.

One basic point you can subtract from van Gelder is that his model and the models he favours are simply more scientific – or biological – than their rivals.

For example, when he talks about his own preferred governor, its ostensible superiority arises from the fact that

“the states through which it evolves are not configurations of symbols but rather numerically measurable arm angles and rates of change of arm angle”.

Of course one will immediately need to clarify why this is more scientific or biological.

For a start, symbols are created by persons: they aren't biological. In that basic sense, the idea of there being symbols in the brain is unscientific. (This isn't to say that the nature of human symbols can't be treated scientifically.) Of course all this partly depends on how literally the word 'symbol' is taken by philosophers of mind and cognitive scientists. To some, it's taken literally and to others it's taken metaphorically or analogically. However, the argument may be that even when the use of the word 'symbol' is taken metaphorically or analogically, it's still controversial from a strictly scientific (or biological) point of view.

The Representational Governor

Firstly van Gelder offers us a governor that can indeed be seen in representational or symbolic terms. All in all, this representational governor is mechanically no different to the non-representational governor. The difference is in how we theorise about it.

Indeed take the case of the centrifugal governor's engine which elsewhere van Gelder says shouldn't be taken representationally. This governor (at least on the surface) is taken representationally.

Van Gelder firstly goes into detail as to what this representational governor actually does. He writes:

“The very first thing it does is measure its environment (the engine) to obtain a symbolic representation of current engine speed.”

These representations, however, are simply means to a mechanical end. Van Gelder continues:

“It then performs a series of operations on this and other representations, resulting in an output representation, a symbolic specification of the alteration to be made in the throttle valve...”

The basic point is that all this could be done without having representations. More relevantly, it could all happen without us (on the outside) seeing things in terms of representations. However, if we do see things in representational terms, then we must also see them in computational terms. That is, we will think that the “computational” governor “literally computes the desired change in throttle value by manipulating symbols according to a schedule of rules”. After all that we'll have an “output”, which, in this case, is the governor “acting on its environment”.

What's happening here is that we're seeing the governor as some kind of analog of both a computer and a mind. We see what van Gelder calls the “computational governor” as a “device capable of carrying out some set of basic operations (measuring, subtractings, etc.)”.

To repeat, we can still say that there's no need for all this (mild) anthropomorphism (or symbol-fixation) because everything that happens is thoroughly causal and mechanical and could happen just as it does happen without representations or symbols. (This isn't to say that things with symbols or representations can't involve causal processes.)

The Centrifugal Governor & Cognitive Systems

So far I've only talked about van Gelder's representational/symbolic governor. However, all this is but a prelude to talking about human minds or “cognitive systems”.

Here it's not about “devices that transform symbolic inputs into symbolic outputs”: it's about “complexes of continuous, simultaneous, and mutually determining change”. In other words, it's about the causal relations between the outside and the inside (which, in this governor's case, can be numerically measured).

I've just mentioned that this governor-talk is but a prelude to mind-talk. In van Gelder's case, I should actually say mind-body-and-environment talk. What we're talking about here is “the nervous system, body, and environment”. That nervous system, body and environment “are all constantly changing and simultaneously influencing each other”. As a consequence of that, van Gelder says that “the true cognitive system is a single unified system embracing all three”.

The “symbolic mind”, on the other hand, “interact[s] with the body and the external world by means of the occasional static symbolic inputs and outputs”. Here the representation or symbolisation of the world - rather than the dynamical causal contact with it - is paramount. When it comes to symbolic cognitive systems, the direction seems to be all one way: from mind to world. With dynamical systems, on the other hand, the causal arrow goes in both directions: from world to mind and from mind to world.

Causation

Van Gelder's model (or governor) simply doesn't rely on symbols or even on representations. Instead what is emphasised are causal interactions between the governor and its environment or between parts of the governor and its other parts.

More technically, in one passage there's talk of “numerically measurable arm angles” and “rates of change of arm angle”. All this can be seen within a strictly causal and non-symbolic (or non-representational) framework. That is, the causal forces on the governor's arms and the rates of changes of its arm-angles can both be measured numerically.

All that's being done here is the measurement of differences which have been brought about by causal forces on the governor (or on parts of the governor) by its other parts.

It's true that it can now be said that numbers (or numerical measurements) have taken the place of symbols or representations (at least in a certain respect); though the numerical calculations don't symbolise or represent what it is they measure – they simply, well, measure it. What's being measured is literally the world's causal impact on the governor and the causal impact of parts of the governor on its other parts. In that respect, what's happening here is simply applied physics. Nothing is being represented, symbolised or even modelled.

Van Gelder goes into more detail about his centrifugal governor and again stresses its lack of reliance on symbols. More clearly, instead of a system which utilises “configurations of tokens of symbol types”, van Gelder's governor is a

“concrete dynamical system made up of quantities changing in a way that corresponds to the numerical sequences specified by the rule of evolution”.

Here again things are numerically measured rather than symbolised or represented. Thus there should be nothing that's manifestly problematic to a biologist or a physicist. (It will need to be specified how to take van Gelder's reference to “the rule of evolution”.)

Numerical Measurements

I've used the phrase “numerical measurements” a few times so far. Van Gelder borrowed this idea from what's called “dynamical modelling”. Van Gelder says that this is a

“branch of applied mathematics which attempts to describe change in real-world systems by describing the states of the system numerically and then writing equations that capture how these numerical states change over time” .

To put more meat on this bone, van Gelder says that

“Maxwell's original dynamical analysis, and contemporary mathematical treatments, all describe the arm angle and its role in the operation of the governor in nonrepresentational terms".

Why is that? The answer is simple: “the governor contains no representations.” Again, the mathematics (or the numbers/equations) neither symbolise nor represent – they simply measure.

Despite saying that, van Gelder concedes that the arm angle (in the centrifugal governor's case) can be seen as a representation of the engine's speed. That is, there is indeed “some kind of correlation between arm angle and engine speed”. However, just as it's often said that “correlation doesn't equal causation”, so here it can also be said that correlation doesn't equal representation. Simply because there is a causal correlation between the angle (or swing) of the arm and the engine's speed, that doesn't mean that it represents the engine's speed. (Indeed couldn't this be inverted by saying that the engine's speed represents the angle of the arm even if the engine is, as it were, the “first mover”?) However, surely it can be said here that it can be taken as a representation if one wants to take it that way. A question would still remain: What purpose would taking such things in representational terms serve?

Conclusion

The question is whether or not what van Gelder says about the mechanical centrifugal governor can truly pass over to minds or to cognitive systems. After all, it's clearly the case that machines like this aren't representational. I suppose that van Gelder would say that's the point in that even though the centrifugal governor isn't representational it can still be taken that way. And it's that representational factor which passes over to the mind or cognitive systems. In other words, that's how many philosophers of mind and cognitive scientists take cognitive systems and therefore how they could take the centrifugal governor.

Again, does it pass over? For a start, the centrifugal governor is far more simple than the mind and of course it doesn't depend on a biological brain. Nonetheless, none of that may matter for the point that van Gelder is trying to establish. In other words, simply because the cognitive mind depends on the biological brain (as well as being far more complex than centrifugal governor), it doesn't automatically follow from this that the brain-mind system is more likely to contain and work upon symbols/representations than a mechanical device. In fact complexity and biology (or lack thereof) may be irrelevant to van Gelder's argument.

Reference

Van Gelder, Tim, 'What Might Cognition Be If Not Computation?', The Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 92, No. 7 (July 1995).

Pierre Boulez on the Mystical Heaven of Eastern Music

Pierre Boulez once said that far too many Westerners believe that all is golden sunsets and mystical heaven in “the East”. (Perhaps, in many cases, to compensate for the history of colonialism.) Boulez wrote:

“I find that many people form a too sentimental and emotional idea of Oriental music. They now dive into it like tourists setting off to visit a landscape that is about to vanish.” 

Westerners often glorify cultures other than their own in a way that cultures other than their own glorify theirs. Since the days of Debussy and even Mozart, the Orient has often been seen through rose-tined spectacles. (Ironically, often the opposite is argued too.) The music, culture, religion and even the politics of other cultures have often been seen uncritically. 

Boulez wrote:

“There is a great foolishness in the Westerner who goes to India, and I detest the idea of a ‘lost paradise’. It is the most odious forms of affectation.”

This romantic view of the East has been apparent since Mozart’s ‘Rondo al la Turk’ and before. Even the oriental influences on Debussy are propagating the myth of an “Eastern Paradise”.

Boulez said that Indian music, for example, reached a state of perfection very many years ago. Most ethnic musics are now dead because the economic and sociological situations which created them are becoming less and less prevalent. Either that, or these musics have remained static. 

Boulez himself had carefully studied Indian, Peruvian and various musics from African countries. However, he wrote:

“I have found in them an ethics of existence rather than an aesthetic of enjoyment. [] The influence is on my spirit and not on my work.”

In other words, the value of these ethnic musics is ‘spiritual’, but not musical (formal and/or technical?). This may be the reason why many people have believed Western music to be “soulless” and “overly intellectual”. That Western society has become too “technological” and “mechanized”, and thus that we have become victims of our own creations.

Boulez specifically dislikes the superficial way in which Eastern musical forms and ideas have been used in Western music. 

Was he talking about Olivier Messiaen or the Beatles? 

The Beatles were accused of going on a joy-ride on the back of Eastern mysticism and music and of accepting only its “surface” elements: e.g., kaftans, sitars, yoga and mind-altering drugs. Could these criticisms also be aimed at Cage, Messiaen and Stockhausen? All of these composers have used and adopted ideas from Eastern music and philosophy without also accepting the whole show.

Boulez finishes his essay with a rather absolutist statement on the relationship between Western and Eastern music:

“The musical systems of the East and West cannot have any bearing on one another and this will be quickly realised by experienced composers of character.”