Metaphilosophy: P.M.S. Hacker vs. Timothy Williamson (2)

P.M.S. Hacker and Timothy Williamson

The following is a commentary on P.M.S. Hacker’s sixteen-page review (‘Critical Notice’) of Timothy Williamson’s book The Philosophy of Philosophy. The review is an account of what two analytic philosophers take philosophy and metaphilosophy to be. And Williamson’s own The Philosophy of Philosophy shows us what he takes metaphilosophy and philosophy to be.

In basic terms, P.M.S Hacker’s critique is twofold.

1) P.M.S. Hacker doesn’t really believe that Timothy Williamson’s book The Philosophy of Philosophy is an example of the philosophy of philosophy.

2) Hacker believes that Williamson — in parallel — pays too much attention to various disputes, subjects and problems which are firmly within the domain of analytic philosophy (i.e., not metaphilosophy).

As one might have guessed, Hacker’s other main problem is that Williamson’s criticisms of the “linguistic term” and “conceptual analysis” are both philosophically problematic and often historically and philosophically naïve — sometimes simply false.

Indeed Hacker seems to have a problem with just about every sentence in Williamson’s The Philosophy of Philosophy. Hacker’s relentless (if sometimes mild and subtle) sarcasm does grate after a bit. One is led to ask: Does Timothy Williamson really make so many fundamental schoolboy errors?

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Professor Matti Eklund sums up Timothy Williamson’s The Philosophy of Philosophy in the broadest possible terms. He writes:

“In one way,Williamson is conservative: he wants to defend (analytic) philosophy pretty much as it has tended to be done. In another, he is radical: he wants to correct what he regards as common misconceptions of the enterprise of philosophy.”

P.M.S. Hacker, on the other hand, takes another angle and says that that metaphilosophy is about “the nature of philosophy and its methods”. According to Hacker, such a pursuit has “been little discussed by recent analytic philosophers of the new persuasion”. More precisely, Timothy Williamson involves himself in the “rethinking of philosophical methodology”. This “involves understanding, at an appropriate level of abstraction, how philosophy is actually done”. Yet despite that, Hacker doesn’t think that’s what Williamson does. Instead Williamson covers subjects and problems which have been well trodden in analytic philosophy.

Thus there’s a difference between analysing different subjects (or problems) and philosophical methodology (or “understanding how philosophy is actually done”). For example, analysing (analytic) philosophy’s various accounts of analytic statements and the a priori (as have been staple subjects for various analytic philosophers for the last 70 years or so) is not metaphilosophy or even methodology.

Hacker’s general critique of Williamson (at least within the context of metaphilosophy) is Wittgensteinian. Ludwig Wittgenstein is, of course, sometimes regarded as being a metaphilosopher. Hacker himself says that

“since there is no investigating concepts other than by investigating the uses of words that express them, these questions are about words and their use”.

Furthermore, “[o]ne must look and see how philosophy is actually done”. This, to Wittgenstein, was important. To Hacker it is also, I believe, metaphilosophy. That is, looking at how philosophy is done is — at the least — a part of metaphilosophy.

To put this another way. One gets the feeling that Hacker doesn’t believe that Williamson’s book The Philosophy of Philosophy is an example of the philosophy of philosophy. This is the case in that we only seem to have (analytic) philosophy, rather than the philosophy of philosophy. Hacker offers us this example:

“We are promised insight, rigour and courageous precision, but what we get is tens of pages of reflection on the sentences ‘All vixens are vixens’ and ‘Vixens are female foxes’, coupled with the admonition that ‘impatience with the long haul of technical reflection is a form of shallowness’.”

Prima facie, Hacker is perfectly correct. This isn’t even the analytic philosophy of philosophy. It’s just plain analytic philosophy. It’s of course possible to have a metaphilosophical position on — or critique of — the philosophy of “analytic statements” (if that’s what they are). For example, one could question whether or not such statements impinge on extra-philosophical areas or whether they are truly analytic (as with W.V.O. Quine). Is that what Williamson does? Hacker doesn’t think so. All we get, instead, is an expression of “how the current Wykeham Professor of Logic does philosophy”. Does that mean that Williamson doesn’t even tackle philosophical methodology in a metaphilosophical way? Not according to Hacker, who says that

“[o]ne might expect a methodical investigation of how philosophy is actually done by the most eminent philosophers of the ages, or of the past age, or even just of the present age”.

Instead of that (again), “all we are shown is how the current Wykeham Professor of Logic does philosophy”. Of course one has to tackle philosophical subjects and problems in some way in order to see how philosophy is done. But seeing if the a priori is defeasible (or if metaphysical necessity is discovered a posteriori) isn’t such a pursuit. I suppose that, in this case, we’d need to say how these subjects could be tackled in a metaphilosophical kind of way. And that’s difficult. As soon as one attempts to do so, one seems to stop doing philosophy and start doing, for example, the history of philosophy or the sociology of philosophy. And these subjects are neither philosophy nor metaphilosophy. At least not on the reading of Nicholas Joll in the following. He writes:

“We might want to deny the title ‘metaphilosophy’ to, say, various sociological studies of philosophy, and even, perhaps, to philosophical pedagogy (that is, to the subject of how philosophy is taught). On the other hand, we are inclined to count as metaphilosophical claims about, for instance, philosophy corrupting its students or about professionalization corrupting philosophy.”

Yet despite Hacker’s criticisms (as well as what’s just been written), Hacker does adumbrate on what seems to be Williamson’s various metaphilosophical positions. Hacker writes:

“Three themes dominate the book. First, that it is false that the a priori methodology of philosophy is profoundly unlike the a posteriori methods of natural science; indeed that very distinction allegedly obscures underlying similarities. Second, that the difference in subject matter between philosophy and science is less deep than supposed; ‘In particular, few philosophical questions are conceptual questions in any distinctive sense’. Third, that much contemporary philosophy is vitiated by supposing that evidence in philosophy consists of intuitions, which successful theory must explain.”

You’d think that those three subjects were surely enough to fill any book of the philosophy of philosophy (or metaphilosophy). But, again, is this metaphilosophy?

Is a debate about the a priori and its relation to the “a posteriori methods of natural science” metaphilosophy or is it simply philosophy? Presumably the a priori method (if that’s what it is) would need to have been distinguished from the a posteriori method from the very beginning. And that distinction is obviously philosophical. But is it metaphilosophical? If it is, then Plato, Hume, Kant and God knows who else were also metaphilosophers. In order to make a distinction between the a priori and the a posteriori it must surely have been the case that at least some kind of meta-position has been taken. All philosophers will have needed to have taken some kind of meta position. Again, the problem is finding the purely meta in such philosophy.

Philosophy, the A Priori and Science

Hacker’s long non-metaphilosophical investigations of Williamson’s long non-metaphilosophical investigations of analytic philosophy’s problems and pet subjects seem beside the point within the context of metaphilosophy. Nonetheless, Hacker’s statements on the nature of philosophy — in a broader sense — are of interest. Specifically, whether or not philosophy is “an a priori investigation” and therefore radically at odds with “scientific knowledge”.

Williamson sees “fundamental similarities between philosophical and scientific knowledge”. He also makes a move from the “armchair” to what he says is “knowledge of truths about the external environment”. How does he make that move? Hacker says that “no examples of such knowledge are offered, and no explanation is given to render the ‘mays’ precise”.

One of Williamson’s examples of a strong connection between science and philosophy certainly does seem bogus (as well as a little inane). Or, I should say, it does so (only) if we accept Hacker’s account of that example. Hacker tells us that the

“fact that Galileo and Einstein engaged in thought experiments does not make metaphysics any more akin to science than to chess or cricket (in which one may also reflect on what would happen or would have happened if …)”.

Needless to say, there is a connection being made here between the a priori (or at least the importance of the armchair) and the realities of scientific thinking. Yet surely any “thought experiments” that Galileo and Einstein engaged in about concrete empirical specifics — even if they led to general or universal laws — wouldn’t have been purely examples of armchair philosophising or apriorising. (Hume and other empiricists have told us that claims of universality and law always go beyond the empirical and the observational.) In addition, the fact that such scientists sometimes thought about things — and didn’t always require experiments to do so — didn’t make them armchair philosophers or apriorists. If that were the case, every one of us would be an armchair philosopher or an apriorist. And stating these armchair thoughts in the guise of conditionals or hypotheticals doesn’t advance Williamson’s case either. Here again it’s something we all do. (Except, of course, for the fact that we don’t use the word “conditionals” or “hypotheticals”.)

Despite all the above, Hacker does admit that there is some metaphilosophy in Williamson's book The Philosophy of Philosophy. He tells us that Williamson “informs us” that philosophy is “an armchair science”. In addition:

“It consists of thinking, without any special interaction with the world beyond the armchair, such as measurement, observation or experiment would typically involve.”

Now that passage, surely, is metaphilosophy. It’s about philosophy. It’s not about a subject within philosophy. And it’s not an analysis of a problem within philosophy. It is, in fact, a huge thing to say that philosophy is an a priori pursuit. We can of course ask if it is such a thing. We can even ask if it’s possible, in principle, for there to be such a thing. Thus would these questions be metaphilosophical too in the sense that in order to answer them we’d need to philosophise about the nature of the a priori and whether a discipline could ever be entirely a priori — or even a priori at all.

Whatever the answers to these questions are, Hacker also says that Williamson “holds that philosophy can discover truths about reality by reflection alone”. That, for one, isn’t a scientific position. Despite that, Williamson believes that “some philosophical truths are confirmable by experiments”. That means that even though “philosophical truths” are armchair phenomena, there’s nothing to stop them being backed-up or “confirmable” by scientific experiments or other a posteriori factors. (This is a little like Laurence BonJour’s position on a priori statements.) After all, if a philosophical truth is indeed a philosophical truth, then some would say that it can hardly be contradicted by a scientific experiment and it — almost as a consequence of this — must therefore be confirmable by them. However, that would depend on whether an experiment can impact at all on such philosophical truths. (For example, it can be said that a scientific experiment could have no import on a moral truth or on the metaphysical necessities discovered while sitting in Williamson’s armchair.) In addition, in the case of certain philosophical truths it can also be said that scientific experiments can neither confirm nor disconfirm them. In other words, experiments are basically irrelevant to most (or simply many) philosophical truths.

Hacker’s account of Williamson further stresses the latter’s ostensible belief that philosophy isn’t that different from other kinds of thought; or, indeed, from science. Hacker writes:

“[S]ince philosophical ways of thinking are no different in kind from other ways, philosophical questions are not different in kind from other questions. Most importantly, philosophy is no more a linguistic or conceptual inquiry than physics.”

Williamson again bridges the chasm between philosophy and science when he says that “[p]hilosophy, like any other science (including mathematics) […] has evidence for its discoveries”. Williamson then says that “philosophy is no more a linguistic or conceptual inquiry than physics”. Does that mean that philosophy both is and is not like science? Does it depend? 

Alternatively, philosophy can clearly be about “the world” or “the nature of reality” without it thereby being a science. (Williamson gives the following examples: “Contemporary metaphysics studies substances and essences, universals and particulars, space and time, possibility and necessity.”) And that’s certainly true. Here again we can ask whether or not science can either confirm or disconfirm such world-directed philosophical (or metaphysical) statements. Or, alternatively — as with certain logical positivists — we can say that they’re not amenable to scientific scrutiny at all because (as with the most extreme logical positivist position) world-directed philosophical claims are “meaningless”.

More broadly, these strong distinctions and connections between science and philosophy are surely important and indeed metaphilosophical. Though, here again, such a subject has been part of the staple diet of analytic philosophy since Wittgenstein in the 1920s (or even before). So, on the one hand, this is clearly metaphilosophy. On the other hand, if this is metaphilosophy, then metaphilosophy has been part of (analytic) philosophy for a very long time.

Conclusion

Hacker’s review of Williamson’s The Philosophy of Philosophy becomes even more explicit — indeed crushingly so — when he concludes with the following words:

“The Philosophy of Philosophy fails to characterize the linguistic turn in analytic philosophy. It fails to explain why many of the greatest analytic philosophers thought philosophy to be a conceptual investigation… It holds that philosophy can discover truths about reality by reflection alone, but does not explain how. It holds that some philosophical truths are confirmable by experiments, but does not say which. It misrepresents the methodology of the empirical sciences and the differences between the sciences and philosophy. It has nothing whatsoever to say about most branches of philosophy.”

Yes; characterising the “linguistic turn” in broad and contextual terms would indeed be metaphilosophy. However, a philosophical analysis of some of its problems and assumptions wouldn’t be. The same is true about “conceptual investigation”. (For example, arguing that conceptual analysis alone doesn’t do justice to “metaphysical reality” wouldn’t be metaphilosophy… or would it?)

Despite that final declamation against Williamson, Hacker does say that The Philosophy of Philosophy “does provide an adequate ‘self-image’ of the way Professor Williamson does philosophy”. And even that ostensible plaudit is, I believe, subtly sarcastic.

Metaphilosophy: Definitions and Questions (1)

Why Philosophy?

There are many general questions we can ask about philosophy. Many of these questions have been asked by non-philosophers such as laypersons, scientists and academics in the humanities.

A layperson, for example, may ask:

i) Does philosophy have any psychological, moral or social benefits?

ii) Does philosophy improve the people who write and read it?

A physicist, biologist or chemist may ask:

i) Is there such a thing as philosophical knowledge?

ii) Does philosophy (or the philosophy of science) benefit science or scientists?

iii) What is the nature of divergence in philosophy – can it be solved with the aid of such things as evidence, fact or data?

A political scientist, historian, sociologist or political activist may ask:

i) Is all philosophy political - by its very nature?

ii) Does philosophy simply reflect the times in which it is written?

iii) Is philosophy always to be read historically?

Philosophers themselves may ask:

i) What prose-style/s should philosophers adopt – academic, popular, poetic, etc.?

ii) Are we living in a post-philosophy (or post-philosophical) age?

iii) Were Wittgenstein, Heidegger, etc. correct to argue against philosophy itself?

What is Metaphilosophy?

If philosophy itself is hard to define, it will be even harder to define what metaphilosophy is.

One of the main questions about metaphilosophy is whether or not it's actually part of philosophy. Since one has to philosophise about “the nature of philosophy”, it can hardly help but be part of philosophy. Or, as Timothy Williamson puts it, the “philosophy of philosophy [is] automatically part of philosophy".(Williamson's use of the label “philosophy of philosophy” gives the game away.) It's conceivable that there could be sociological, political, scientific., etc. analyses of philosophy which could also be deemed to be metaphilosophical in nature. However, could something that's not philosophy in the first place also be metaphilosophy?

Nicholas Joll believes that these examples (as well as others) of metaphilosophy can be tendentious. He writes:

“We might want to deny the title ‘metaphilosophy’ to, say, various sociological studies of philosophy, and even, perhaps, to philosophical pedagogy (that is, to the subject of how philosophy is taught). On the other hand, we are inclined to count as metaphilosophical claims about, for instance, philosophy corrupting its students or about professionalization corrupting philosophy...”

It's clear that these pursuits have existed for a long time; at least since the early 20 century. Thus they don't really fit the “philosophy of philosophy” (or “metaphilosophy”) label.

Joll also stresses the point that most – or even all – philosophy is metaphilosophical. (He calls it “implicit metaphilosophy”.) Or, at the very least, he argues that all philosophy has metaphilosophical components. He writes:

“... all philosophizing is somewhat metaphilosophical, at least in this sense: any philosophical view or orientation commits its holder to a metaphilosophy that accommodates it. Thus if one advances an ontology one must have a metaphilosophy that countenances ontology. Similarly, to adopt a method or style is to deem that approach at least passable. Moreover, a conception of the nature and point of philosophy, albeit perhaps an inchoate one, motivates and shapes much philosophy. But – and this is what allows there to be implicit metaphilosophy – sometimes none of this is emphasized, or even appreciated at all, by those who philosophize.”

So what would metaphilosophy be if it weren't a part of philosophy? And even if it were distinct from philosophy, would that automatically mean that it isn't philosophy?

Analytic Philosophy and Texts About Texts

Analytic philosophy has traditionally downplayed metaphilosophy. Nowadays that doesn't seem to be the case.

The very definitions of the word 'metaphilosophy' (used by some analytic philosophers) seemed to stress that downplaying. To many previous analytic philosophers, metaphilosophy is simply the the study of previous philosophical works; which the philosopher concerned may analyse or add to. In other words, this isn't seen as contributing anything very new or original to (analytic) philosophy.

In Continental philosophy this has been called 'intertextuality'. Here all we really have, according to Julia Kristeva, is “texts about texts”. Then again, the Continental philosophers who used this term would apply it to every philosopher – even to those analytic philosophers whom contribute what they see as original philosophy to the corpus.

All this also begs the question as to whether or not commentary or research is automatically excluded from the realm of philosophical originality. Can new ideas and theories be found or formulated through research and/or commentary on the works of (dead) philosophers? Yes, because such a thing has occurred many times.

One definition of metaphilosophy doesn't seem to be have taken up by analytic philosophers. That is the seeing of metaphilosophy as post-philosophy. Now this has certainly been taken up by many Continental philosophers over the last 100 years or longer. (For example, Marx, Nietzsche, Heidegger, Derrida, various postmodernists, etc.) Here again we see that post-philosophy can't help but be philosophy; just as metametaphysics can't help but be metaphysics (at least as practiced by certain metametaphysics).

Metaphilosophy as Second-Order Philosophy

The prime contender for seeing metaphilosophy as being separate from philosophy is to see it as a “second-order” study. This raises the question of whether or not the assessment of philosophy is, in fact, a second-order pursuit or simply philosophy about philosophy (as with Timothy Williamson). The term “philosophy of philosophy” (i.e., unlike “second-order philosophy") doesn't imply that it “look[s] down upon philosophy from above, or beyond”.

Paul K. Moser accepts the second-/first-order distinction. He writes:

"The distinction between philosophy and metaphilosophy has an analogue in the familiar distinction between mathematics and metamathematics."

Thus Moser prefers the term 'metaphilosophy'. However, other philosophers treat the prefix 'meta' as simply meaning about (i.e., not intrinsically second-order).

How can we be more technical and explicit about this second-order study?

For one, it can be said that metaphilosophy is “thinking about thinking”. Haven't virtually all philosophers thought about thought?

Some say that metaphilosophy analyses the concepts [concept], [proposition], [theory], etc., rather than particular concepts, propositions, theories, etc. Though, here again, first-order philosophers (if that's what they are) have always carried out this enterprise. However, some of them did indeed see themselves as second-order philosophers (even if they never used the word “metaphilosophy”) - specifically in the first half of the 20 century. Isn't all this related to (philosophical) mathematical “meta-theory”; which found a philosophical parallel in Tarski and Davidson's meta-language/object-language distinction?

Another question arises here. Is philosophical methodology also metaphilosophy? This is the study of how to do philosophy. I would say no. Primarily because methodology has always been important in philosophy and one can hardly philosophise at all without studying such methodologies. This isn't to contradict the Wittgensteinian point that there may be different methodologies for different philosophical problems or areas. Indeed Wittgenstein himself acquired various philosophical methodologies.

Gilbert Ryle and Martin Heidegger

Gilbert Ryle, for one, was very much against metaphilosophy. Or at least he was without actually using the word 'metaphilosophy'. Instead he focussed on what he called “methods”. He said that the

"preoccupation with questions about methods tends to distract us from prosecuting the methods themselves. We run as a rule, worse, not better, if we think a lot about our feet. So let us... not speak of it all but just do it."

Is this typical English commonsensicalism? This position chimes in with something than a fellow Englishman, Bertrand Russell, once wrote: “The only way to find out what philosophy is, is to do philosophy." It certainly seems like an example of Ryle's well-known distinction between “knowing how” and “knowing that”. And isn't it neat that he should apply this distinction to philosophy itself? Of course if Ryle is correct, then that would mean that metaphilosophy (or at least the methodology of philosophy, as done by Timothy Williamson) is a waste of time.

Martin Heidegger did believe in metaphilosophy (again, without using that term). He wrote:

"When we ask, 'What is philosophy?' then we are speaking about philosophy. By asking in this way we are obviously taking a stand above and, therefore, outside of philosophy.”

Heidegger then went on to offer his own personal slant on the practice of metaphilosophy. However, it's not immediately obvious why such questions should automatically be “taking a stand above and, therefore, outside of philosophy”. Why can't they simply be more examples of philosophy itself? Even if philosophical questions about philosophy are (as it were) meta or second-order, that doesn't automatically mean that these questions are “outside philosophy” or “above” philosophy. They're simply philosophical questions about philosophy; which have been asked since the Greeks.

In any case, Heidegger (in his Was ist das - die Philosophie?) continued by saying:

“But the aim of our question is to enter into philosophy, to tarry in it, to conduct ourselves in its manner, that is, to "philosophize". The path of our discussion must, therefore, not only have a clear direction, but this direction must at the same time give us the guarantee that we are moving within philosophy and not outside of it and around it."

Heidegger, therefore, seems to contradict himself. At first he says that metaphilosophy is “outside philosophy” and/or “above” philosophy. Then he says that his metaphilosophy has a 

“direction [that] must at the same time give us the guarantee that we are moving within philosophy and not outside of it and around it”. 

That's unless I'm a victim of “binary thinking” here. Perhaps Heidegger's metaphilosophy is both above/beyond philosophy and “within philosophy” at one and the same time. This toing and froing beyond and within philosophy may be the only way to reach deep Heideggerian conclusions about philosophy. Jacques Derrida also said (in his 'Structure, Sign, and Play in the Discourse of the Human Sciences' - 1970) that one can never transcend Western metaphysics because the borrowing of even a single concept from it brings along with it the entire package. That is, “the entire syntax and system of Western metaphysics” is brought in when we philosophise about Western philosophy.

*) Next: 'Metaphilosophy: P.M.S. Hacker vs. Timothy Williamson (2)'

A Review of *Metametaphysics: New Essays on the Foundations of Ontology*

The following piece isn't a review of the whole of Metametaphysics: New Essays on the Foundations of Ontology. That would end up being far too long for a review. Instead I focus entirely on the introductory section ('Worrying about Metaphysics') of the editor's (David Manley) own 'Introduction: A Guided Tour of Metametaphysics'. The introduction tackles all the issues (if in a fairly rudimentary form) which are featured in the book's collection of independent papers. 

David Manley

What is Metaphysics?

It seems strange, prima facie, that in a introduction to a volume which is asking questions about the real nature of metaphysics, David Manley (the author of the Introduction) should tell us exactly what metaphysics is. He tells us that metaphysics

“is concerned with the foundations of reality. It asks questions about the nature of the world, such as: Aside from concrete objects, are there also abstract objects like numbers and properties? Does every event have a cause? What is the nature of possibility and necessity? When do several things make up a single bigger thing? Do the past and future exist? And so on.”

What if one metametaphysician (if, as yet, such a description exists) says? - 

The idea of there being “foundations of reality” is preposterous. 

It can even be said that talk of “the nature of the world” (rather than, say, the plural natures) begs a few questions too. In addition, why accept any distinction between abstract and concrete objects? Or, alternatively, perhaps there are other kinds of objects. Perhaps some metaphysicians even question that there are events in the way that others question the existence of objects. And so on.

Possibly all these questions can legitimately exist and it still be acceptable to talk about “the foundations of reality” and “the nature of the world”. After all, the discussion must start somewhere. And even if a metametaphysician rejects everything contained in David Manley's short descriptive account of metaphysics (above), these basic distinctions are still accepted by many metaphysicians and that's where the deflationist (see later) or sceptical philosopher must start.

Empirically speaking (as it were), it's interesting to note that, according to Manley,

“[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”.

Manley goes on to write that “this approach in mainstream metaphysics” has “only come to ascendancy lately, and is still widely challenged”.

In a very basic sense, this approach is classic metaphysical realism – however you slice it. Thus many other philosophers would be mad (or sad) that this is still the current paradigm for contemporary metaphysicians. Then again, anti-realism (to take alternative to this) has only ever been one option in metaphysics.

It may need to be added here that even though these realist (or non-deflationary) metaphysicians are concerned with “the reality that is represented”, they may still be very concerned with what contemporary science has to say on this or on similar subjects. After all, if science (as with Quine) tells us “what is”, then a realist metaphysician needs to listen to science. Nonetheless, metaphysicians who've been strongly committed to the findings of science have also taken various anti-realist positions. Manley himself stresses the importance of science to both realist metaphysicians and their opponents. He writes:

“And the preferred methodology for answering these questions is quasi-scientific, of the type recommended by W. V. O. Quine, developed by David Lewis, and summarized by Theodore Sider in this volume.”

In addition, ontic structural realism (the new kid on the block) is strongly against traditional forms of metaphysical realism even though it is itself a kind of realism - an ontic structural realism; which, basically, takes only structures and numbers to be real. (Ontic structural realists class the type of realist metaphysics they're against as “analytic metaphysics”.)

Trivia? Objects and Ontological Composition

One can certainly see why many people have a problem with (analytic?) metaphysics. Or at least they would do so after reading Manley's description of a particular ontological position within metaphysics.

The question is: What is an object? Manley writes:

“Some English-speakers might describe the hand-clenching situation as one in which a new object—a fist—comes into existence; others might describe it as a case in which an old object—your hand—takes on a new shape and temporarily becomes a fist.”

Yes indeed. Manley's response is understandable. He continues:

“But it is easy to feel that there is no disagreement—or still less any mystery—about how things are in front of your face. Your hand and fingers are in a certain arrangement that we are perfectly familiar with: call this situation whatever you like.”

Of course it can now be said that Manley has been a little unfair to this ontological dispute on which hundreds of thousands of words have been written. After all, many philosophers say that “intuitions matter”. Nonetheless, many other philosophers say that “intuitions are irrelevant” (or something similar). Whatever the case is, perhaps it's inevitable that we have to start with our intuitions; even if we completely reject them later. And, in this case, the words “call this situation whatever you like” is an intuitive response which many people will have – not least some (or even many) philosophers!

Nonetheless, one can see the problem with any deep trust in intuitions when Manley himself seems to endorse (even if as the devil's advocate) the position that “one is apt to feel suspicious of the methodology behind any theoretical defense of the thesis that numbers do not exist”. That, of course, depends on what's meant by the words “numbers do not exist”. (Or, more basically, on what's meant by the solitary word “exist”.) Here again we're back to the subjects of concepts and language. Despite that, this stress on language and concepts doesn't thereby erase the metaphysical nature of numbers (or lack thereof); it simply helps us to clarify what it is we're talking about.

The Meaty Issue of God?

Manley offers an example which he believes shows that the idea that metaphysics is often trivial and insubstantial (as is purportedly the case with ontological composition) is often misplaced. He says that “the debate over the existence of God is perfectly substantive and has a correct answer”. Apparently this isn't about semantics or language. Yet doesn't it depend on how the word “God” is defined? On some definitions, the issue would be meaty and not entirely determined by language. On the other hand, it would depend of what's meant by the word 'God'. For example, if it refers only to the monotheistic God of Christianity, then it's substantive since such a being has at least some determinate ontological characteristics. (That is, not only Hume's “ontological predicates”; such as eternity, omnipresence, omnipotence.) However, if the word 'God' is defined more loosely, then perhaps the claim that “God exists” may well be insubstantial or semantically suspect. (Say, for example, if the claim “God is nature” or “God is the ultimate mind” is considered.) However, it's not quite that simple. Talk of the God of Christianity may still be a conceptual confused. On the other hand, a vague God may still have determinate characteristics which can be tackled in a philosophical manner. So language is important in both cases. As for the accusations of “shallowness” and being insubstantial, that depends...

What is Metametaphysics?

After describing the nature of metaphysics, Manley goes on to describe the nature of metametaphysics. He writes:

“Metametaphysics is concerned with the foundations of metaphysics. It asks: Do the questions of metaphysics really have answers? If so, are these answers substantive or just a matter of how we use words? And what is the best procedure for arriving at them—common sense? Conceptual analysis? Or assessing competing hypotheses with quasi-scientific criteria?”

Let me repeat myself here. If it's wrong that metaphysicians (or Manley) assume that there are “foundations of reality”, perhaps it's also wrong to assume that metametaphysics is solely concerned with “the foundations of metaphysics”. Here again the subject metaphysics may well have foundations. And those foundations may be partly explained historically in that the ancient Greeks took certain subjects or phenomena to be foundational. In addition, some metametaphysicians may be concerned with the words and concepts used by metaphysicians; not with what they talk about. (Perhaps because what they talk about doesn't actually exist.) Nonetheless, in Manley's description of metametaphysics, he does raise similar questions. For example, he tells us that the “questions of metaphysics” may only be “a matter of how we use words”. And this takes us on to the subject of metaphysical deflationism.

Strong Deflationism

Many people who're deeply suspicious of metaphysics (perhaps of metametaphysics too!) will be keen on the position David Manley classes as “strong deflationism”. (That's if people who hate metaphysics will even care about a position which criticises metaphysics.) The position of strong deflationism is, of course, still a metaphysical position. Indeed whatever position you take on the world (or on anything else for that matter) must surely contain some assumptions (or even explicit beliefs) which are metaphysical in nature.

What defines strong deflationism? According to Manley, it's

“[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”.

All “merely verbal”? Perhaps not:

i) One's tempted to make the possibly trite point that even to these strong deflationists, there must still be a way the world is. And that is metaphysics.

ii) Sure, we talk about the world with words, concepts and theories; though there's still a way the world is.

iii) Those words, concepts and theories may distort or simply alter what we say about the world; though there's still a way the world is.

iv) Indeed we may not even be able to get at the world unless we use words, concepts or theories which distort or change the world; though there's still a way the world is.

Furthermore, what does “shallowness” mean here? (I'm assuming this word isn't only Manley's term for what these deflationists think.) What are (realist?) metaphysicians “shallow” about? Why is what they say shallow? What can they say – metaphysically or otherwise – which isn't shallow? And is it really the case that a dispute – any dispute – can be “merely verbal”? Is that even possible in principle?

In addition, if the metaphysicians' claims aren't “truth-evaluable”, then what sort of claims are truth-evaluable? What makes them truth-evaluable? These questions will require answers which, at least in part, will include metaphysical answers. (The critics of - realist - metaphysics may not, of course, deny that they're committed to some form of metaphysics.)

Despite my own questions, Manley goes on to say that “[i]n its new forms, strong deflationism poses as serious a challenge to metaphysics as ever”.

Mild Deflationism

The “mild deflationist' position (as enunciated by Manley) is difficult to grasp. Manley tells us that mild deflationists “admit that there is a genuine dispute at issue”; though they also believe that “it can be resolved in a relatively trivial fashion by reflecting on conceptual or semantic facts”. Moreover, “nothing of substance is left for the metaphysician to investigate”. I can't see how all that works. If these mild deflationists admit that there are “genuine disputes” here; then how can they be entirely resolved by “reflecting on conceptual or semantic facts”? Concepts and semantics are of course important; though they can't possibly be the whole story. Unless the remainder is - by (semantic) definition - “trivial” (or “nothing of substance”). But what the hell does that mean? The only situation in which I can conceive of this position (as stated) working would be when it comes to the position of linguistic idealism (or perhaps some other form of idealism) - and even then I'm not sure. Of course the simple solution to my quandary may be to read more of what these mild deflationists actually have to say on the subject.

It's not surprising that Manley rounds off his description of mild deflationism by saying that “mild deflationists tend to be motivated more by intuitions of triviality than by the intuition that nothing is really at issue in the dispute”. Here again we see the word “triviality”; which is troubling. Moreover, Manley hints that if these mild deflationists aren't motivated “by the intuition that nothing is really at issue in the dispute”, then doesn't that mean that they may well believe that something is really at issue in the dispute? And if that's the case, then how is the mild-deflationist circle squared?

In any case, can any dispute be merely verbal in a literal sense? Can any dispute be entirely “due to differences in the way the disputants are using certain terms”? Think about it. Despite saying that, perhaps my own problem is that I'm taking the popular phrase “merely verbal” too literally in the sense that surely no one really believes that a dispute is all about semantics and/or language.

Manley's second point is more telling. He says that mild deflationists claim that “[n]either side” in a metaphysical dispute “succeeds in making a claim with determinate truth-value”. Surely here the mild deflationist has to move away from the merely verbal if he's also talking about truth-values. In other words, if neither metaphysical position x nor metaphysical position y (on the same subject) have a truth-value; then that means that the mild deflationist is – even if elliptically - making a metaphysical statement about the nature of the world. He's saying that the world couldn't possibly provide an answer to the question of whether or not position x or position y has a “determinate truth-value”. Thus we're still in the domain of metaphysics.

Next: Theodore Sider's 'Ontological Realism', as found in Metametaphysics: New Essays on the Foundations of Ontology.

Integrated Information Theory: Information (4)

The word 'information' has massively different uses; some of which tend to differ strongly from the ones we use in everyday life. Indeed we can use the words of Claude E. Shannon to back this up:

"It is hardly to be expected that a single concept of information would satisfactorily account for the numerous possible applications of this general field." [1949]

The most important point to realise is that minds (or observers) are usually thought to be required to make information information. However, information is also said to exist without minds/observers. It existed before minds and it will exist after minds. This, of course, raises lots of philosophical and semantic questions.

It may help to compare information with knowledge. The latter requires a person, mind or observer. The former (as just stated), may not.

Integrated information theory's use of the word 'information' receives much support in contemporary physics. This support includes how such things as particles and fields are seen in informational terms. As for dynamics: if there's an event which affects a dynamic system, then that event can read as information.

Indeed in the field called pancomputationalism (just about) anything can be deemed to be information. In these cases, that information could be represented and modelled as a computational system.

Consciousness as Integrated Information

It's undoubtedly the case that Guilio Tononi believes that consciousness simply is information. Thus, if that's an identity statement, then we can invert it and say that information is consciousness. In other words, 

consciousness (or experience) = information

Consciousness doesn't equal just any kind of information; though any kind of information (embodied in a system) may be conscious to some extent.

Tononi believes that an informational system can be divided into its parts. Its parts contain information individually. The whole of the system also has information. The information of the whole system is over and above the combined information of its parts. That means that such extra information (of that informational system) must emerge from the information contained in its parts. This, then, seems to be a commitment to some kind of emergentism.

The mathematical measure of that information (in an informational system) is φ (phi). Not only is the system more than its parts: that system also has degrees of informational integration. The higher the informational integration, the more likely that informational system will be conscious. Or, alternatively, the higher the degree of integration, the higher the degree of consciousness.

Emergence from Brain Parts?

Again, we can argue that the IIT position on what it calls “phi” is a commitment to some form of emergence in that an informational system is - according to Christof Koch - “more than the sum of its parts”. This is what he calls “synergy”. Nonetheless, a system can be more than the sum of its parts without any commitment to strong emergence. After all, if four matches are shaped into a square, then that's more than an arbitrary collection of matches; though it's not more than the sum of its parts. (Four matches scattered on the floor wouldn't constitute a square.) However, emergentists have traditionally believed that consciousness is more than the sum of its/the brain's (?) parts. Indeed, in a strong sense, it can even be said that consciousness itself has no parts. Unlike water and its parts (individual H₂0 molecules), consciousness is over and above what gives rise to it (whatever that is). It's been seen as a truly emergent phenomenon. Water isn't, strictly speaking, strongly emergent from H₂0 molecules. It's a large collection of H₂O molecules. (Water = H₂0 molecules.) Having said, in a sense, it can be said that water does weakly emerge from a large collection of H₂0 molecules.

The idea of the whole being more than the sum of its parts has been given concrete form in the example of the brain and its parts. IIT tells us that the individual neurons, ganglia, amygdala, visual cortex, etc. each have “non-zero phi”. This means that if they're taken individually, they're all (tiny) spaces of consciousness unto themselves. However, if you lump all these parts together (which is obviously the case with the human brain), then the entire brain has more phi than each of its parts taken individually; as well as more phi than each of its parts taken collectively. Moreover, the brain as a whole takes over (or “excludes”) the phi of the parts. Thus the brain, as we know, works as a unit; even if there are parts with their own specific roles (not to mention the philosopher's “modules”).

Causation and Information

Information is both causal and structural.

Say that we've a given structure (or pattern) x. That x has a causal effect on structure (or pattern) y. Clearly x's effect on y can occur without minds. (At least if you're not an idealist or an extreme anti-realist/verificationist.)

Instead of talking about x and y, let's give a concrete example instead.

Take the pattern (or structure) of a sample of DNA. That DNA sample causally affects and then brings about the development (in particular ways) of the physical nature of a particular organism (in conjunction with the environment, etc.). This would occur regardless of observers. That sample of DNA contains (or is!) information. The DNA's information causally brings about physical changes; which, in some cases, can themselves be seen as information.

Some commentators also use the word “representation” within this context. Here information is deemed to be “potential representation”. Clearly, then, representations are representations to minds or observers; even if the information - which will become a representation - isn't so. Such examples of information aren't designed at all (except, as it were, by nature). In addition, just as information can become a representation, so it can also become knowledge. It can be said that although a representation of information may be enriched with concepts and cognitive activity; this is much more the case with information in the guise of knowledge.

Panpsychism?

The problem with arguing that consciousness is information is that information is everywhere: even basic objects (or systems) have a degree of information. Therefore such basic things (or systems) must also have a degree of consciousness. Or, in IIT speak, all such things (systems) have a “φ value”; which is the measure of the degree of information (therefore consciousness) in the system. Thus David Chalmers' thermostat [1997] will thus have a degree of consciousness (or, for Chalmers, proto-experience).

It's here that we enter the territory of panpsychism. Not surprisingly, Tononi is happy with panpsychism; even if his position isn't identical to Chalmers' panprotopsychism.

Scott Aaronson, for one, states one problem with the consciousness-is-everywhere idea in the following:

“[IIT] unavoidably predicts vast amounts of consciousness in physical systems that no sane person would regard as particularly ‘conscious’ at all: indeed, systems that do nothing but apply a low-density parity-check code, or other simple transformations of their input data. Moreover, IIT predicts not merely that these systems are ‘slightly’ conscious (which would be fine), but that they can be unboundedly more conscious than humans are.”

Here again it probably needs to be stated that if consciousness = information (or that information – sometimes? - equals consciousness), then consciousness will indeed be everywhere.

***************************************

Add-on: John Searle on Information

How can information be information without minds or observers?

John Searle denies that there can be information without minds/observers. Perhaps this is simply a semantic dispute. After all, the things which pass for information certainly exist and they've been studied - in great detail! - from an informational point of view. However, they don't pass Searle's following tests; though that may not matter very much.

Take, specifically, Searle's position as it was expressed in a 2013 review (in The New York Review of Books) of Christoff Koch’s book Consciousness. In that piece Searle complained that IIT depends on a misappropriation of the concept [information]:

“[Koch] is not saying that information causes consciousness; he is saying that certain information just is consciousness, and because information is everywhere, consciousness is everywhere. I think that if you analyze this carefully, you will see that the view is incoherent. Consciousness is independent of an observer. I am conscious no matter what anybody thinks. But information is typically relative to observers...

“...These sentences, for example, make sense only relative to our capacity to interpret them. So you can’t explain consciousness by saying it consists of information, because information exists only relative to consciousness.” [2013]

If information is the propagation of cause and effect within a given system, then John Searle's position must be wrong. Searle may say, then, that such a thing isn't information until it becomes information in a mind or according to observers. (Incidentally, there may be anti-realist problems with positing systems which are completely free of minds.)

Searle argues that causes and effects - as well as the systems to which they belong - don't have information independently of minds. However, that doesn't stop it from being the case that this information can become information because of direct observations of that information.

Anthropomorphically, the system communicates to minds. Or minds read the system's messages.

Searle's position on information can actually be said to be a position on what's called Shannon information. This kind of information is “observer-relative information”. In other words, it doesn't exist as information until an observer takes it as information. Thus when a digital camera takes a picture of a cat, each photodiode works in casual isolation from the other photodiodes. In other words, unlike the bits of consciousness, the bits of a photograph (before it's viewed) aren't integrated. Only when a mind perceives that photo are the bits integrated.

IIT, therefore, has a notion of “intrinsic information”.

Take the brain's neurons. Such things do communicate with each other in terms of causes and effects. (Unlike photodiodes?) It's said that the brain's information isn't observer-relative. Does this contradict Searle's position? IIT is talking about consciousness as information not being relative to other observers; though is it relative to the brain and consciousness itself?

There's an interesting analogy here which was also cited by Searle. In his arguments against Strong Artificial Intelligence (strong AI) and the mind-as-computer idea, he basically states that computers – like information - are everywhere. He writes:

“... the window in front of me is a very simple computer. Window open = 1, window closed = 0. That is, if we accept Turing’s definition according to which anything to which you can assign a 0 and a 1 is a computer, then the window is a simple and trivial computer.” [1997]

Clearly, in these senses, an open and shut window also contains information. Perhaps it couldn't be deemed a computer if the window's two positions didn't also contain information. Thus, just as the window is only a computer to minds/observers, so too is that window's information only information to minds/observers. The window, in Searle speak, is an as-if computer which contains as-if information. And so too is Chalmers' thermometer and Koch's photodiode.

Here's Searle again:

"I say about my thermostat that it perceives changes in the temperature; I say of my carburettor that it knows when to enrich the mixture; and I say of my computer that its memory is bigger than the memory of the computer I had last year."

Another Searlian (as well as Dennettian) way of looking at thermostats and computers is that we can take an “intentional stance” towards them. We can treat them - or take them - as intentional (though inanimate) objects. Or we can take them as as-if intentional objects.

The as-if-ness of windows, thermostats and computers is derived from the fact that these inanimate objects have been designed to perceive, know and memorise. Though this is only as-if perception, as-if knowledge, and as-if memory. Indeed it is only as-if information. Such things are dependent on human perception, human knowledge, and human memory. Perception, knowledge and memory require real - or intrinsic - intentionality; not as-if intentionality. Thermostats, windows, and computers have a degree of as-if intentionality, derived from (our) intrinsic intentionality. However, despite all these qualifications of as-if intentionality, as-if intentionality is still ‘real’ intentionality (according to Searle); though it's derived from actual intentionality.

References

Aaronson, Scott (2014) 'Why I am Not an Integrated Information Theorist'.

Chalmers, David (1995) 'Facing up to the problem of consciousness'.

Koch, Christof (2012) Consciousness: Confessions of a Romantic Reductionist.

Searle, John (1997) The Mystery of Consciousness.

- (2013) 'Can Information Theory Explain Consciousness?'

Shannon, C.E. (1949) A Mathematical Theory of Communication.

Tononi, Guilio (2015) 'Integrated Information Theory'.

• (2016) 'Integrated Information Theory: From Consciousness to its Physical Substrate'.

*) Next: 'Integrated Information Theory: Panpsychism' (5)