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Thursday 7 May 2020

David Chalmers' Unanswerable Hard Question

i) Introduction

ii) Brute Facts?

iii) David Chalmers and Christof Koch

iv) More Hard Questions?

v) Conclusion

The Australian philosopher David Chalmers is well-known for asking his “hard question”. It (sometimes) goes like this:

“Why should physical processing give rise to a rich inner life at all?”

Perhaps this question is similar to the following:

Why are the laws of physics (or the constants of nature) the way they are?

But what if these questions don’t have answers (or solutions)? What if the questions themselves are suspect? Despite stating that, even if a question may not have an answer; reasons or explanations still need to be given as to why that’s the case.

Compare the questions above to another possibly unanswerable (if ironic) question raised by the well-known theoretical physicist Richard Feynman. He recalled:

“You know, the most amazing thing happened to me tonight. I saw a car with the license plate ARW 357. Can you imagine? Of all the millions of license plates in the state, what was the chance that I would see that particular one tonight? Amazing!”

This passage from Feynman can be reformulated as this simple question:

Of all the millions of license plates in the state, why did I see that particular one tonight?

Of course this question isn’t in the same ballpark as the question “Why do physical states give rise to experience?” (or “Why are the laws of physics and constants of nature the way they are?”); though it may be on the borders of that question.

It’s not weird that Feynman should have seen that particular number plate. So it may not be such a deep mystery that a physical state (or states) should give rise to an experience or that the laws of physics (or the constants of nature) have some kind of nature (or the values that they do have).

Moreover, perhaps there’s no deep answer — other than mundane facts about probabilities — to the question as to why Feynman should have seen that number plate. Similarly with experience arising from the physical. That is, beyond the fact that these things are the way they are, there may be nothing more to say.

Yet David Chalmers himself does seem to be committed to the “principle of sufficient reason” in that he believes that his hard question about the physical/brain-consciousness relation can (or must) be answered — even if only “in principle” (or in the future). However, Chalmers doesn’t believe that this is the case with all questions.

For example, Chalmers seems to reject this question:

Why is there matter, space-time, gravity, etc. in the first place?

Or, in Chalmers’ own words, he tells us that

“(n)othing in physics tells us why there is matter in the first place, but we do not count this against theories of matter”.

That means that Chalmers himself may accept an end to questions (hard or soft) when it comes to what he calls “the fundamentals of physical theory”. That is, he argues that the question of “why there is matter in the first place” may well be illegitimate — at least from a position within physics (i.e., it may be — or is — a fit subject for philosophy or theology).

In the same vein, can’t we reject the need to see the laws of physics or the constants of nature (which underpin spacetime, matter, gravity, etc.) as having either a necessary or accidental (or contingent) nature? More importantly, can’t we question the assumption that these questions can be answered? In other words, the following question may be bogus:

Why are the laws of physics (or constants of nature) the way they are rather than another way?

Thus, just as physics “does not tell us why there is [matter] in the first place”, so it may not be able to tell us why the laws of physics are the way they are. (Or, alternatively, physics can’t — or doesn’t — tell us why the constants have the values which they do have.)

So David Chalmers’ position (which is the same as most physicists) is that we must begin with the fundamental laws and constants of nature. Such things are deemed primitive. That is, they can’t be “deduced from more basic principles”. This means that Chalmers has a position on physics that seems to go against his own hard question on the nature of consciousness (or experience).

Having said all that, Chalmers does indeed concede the possibly that an “epistemically primitive connection between physical states and consciousness” may be a “fundamental law”. So doesn’t that basically mean that we can’t (or simply may not) be able to explain that connection between the physical and consciousness? Perhaps there’s literally nothing to explain because of its very primitiveness.

Alternatively, is this ostensible lack of an explanation of the physical-consciousness relation a result of the fact that (according to the philosopher John Heil) “our mental and physical concepts are too far apart to be unified under a single theory”? Perhaps the mind-body (or body-mind) relation is just too simple, fundamental or basic to be explained by any theory — mental or physical. Perhaps there’s literally nothing to explain. Indeed isn’t this one of the definitions of the words ‘brute fact’?

Brute Facts?

John Heil goes on to say:

“Once you reach a basic level, however, explanation runs out: things behave as they do because they are as they are, and things with this nature just do behave in this way. Explanation works, not because all explanation is traceable to self-explaining explainers. Explanation works by reducing the complex to the less complex. At the basic level the behaviour of objects cannot be further explained.”

Indeed when physical explanations do come to an end, then we reach a point when

“things behave as they do because they are as they are, and things with this nature just do behave in this way”.

That is, we can’t explain or ask questions anymore. However, it’s of course the case that nothing can stop us from asking these questions — even if they are unanswerable.

In terms of brute facts again.

The acceptance of brute facts in physics may not help us when it comes to the nature of the brain-consciousness relation. The Australian philosopher J.J.C. Smart, for example, argued against the acceptability of this analogy. In his ‘Sensations and Brain Processes’ (1959), he wrote:

“It is sometimes asked, ‘Why can’t there be psycho-physical laws which are of a novel sort, just as the laws of electricity and magnetism were novelties from the standpoint of Newtonian mechanics?’ Certainly we are pretty sure in the future to come across ultimate laws of a novel type, but I expect them to relate simple constituents… I cannot believe that the ultimate laws of nature could relate simple constituents to configurations consisting of billions of neurons (and goodness knows how many billions of billions of ultimate particles) all put together for all the word as though their main purpose was to be a negative feedback mechanism of a complicated sort.”

In other words, the arrival (or emergence?) of consciousness would be required to be a relation not between the very simple and the (slightly) less simple; but between the hugely complex (i.e., the brain or its individual parts) and the simple (i.e., a conscious state).

Heil offers a similar argument about the possibility of brute fact(s) when it comes to the physical-consciousness relation. Though, whereas J.J.C. Smart states a relation between the brain’s complexity and a simple mental state/experience; Heil makes a connection between a complex brain state and a “complex qualitative experience”. Heil writes:

“This alleged brute fact differs from brute facts concerning electrons because it connects something complex — a qualitative experience — with something very complex — a brain process, for instance, involving millions (billions?) of particles.”

To conclude. Heil again questions the status of what we may call the Brute Fact Theory of Consciousness:

“Perhaps there are such brute facts, but if there are, they are very different from the kinds of brute fact we expect to find in mapping the nature of the material world.”

If they are different (let alone very different), then what right have we to make comparisons between the ostensible physical-consciousness brute fact and those found by particle (or quantum) physicists?

David Chalmers and Christof Koch

Chalmers, on the other hand, does reject any physical-to-consciousness brute fact. In other words, he believes that there are questions about this relation which need to be answered. More technically, Chalmers says that

“Crick and Koch’s theory gains its purchase by assuming a connection between binding and experience, and so can do nothing to explain that link”.

So let’s reformulate Chalmers’ words as a simple question:

What is the connection (or link) between binding and experience?

What does Chalmers mean by the word “explain” (as used in the quote above)? What kind of explanation would make him happy? Is there even a possible (or hypothetical) explanation which could be conjured up (care-of speculative philosophy or metaphysics) which would make him happy or satisfied? Let’s think about it. Think about any possible arguments (or data) which could explain the link between the physical and experience. What would they look like? What could they look like?

Chalmers — elsewhere — makes much of “conceivability” leading to “metaphysical possibility”. This means that if we can conceive of such a link between the physical and experience, then that link would be metaphysically possible. So, go ahead, conceive of such a link. What, precisely, have you conceived?

Does Chalmers (kind of) admit that such a link can’t be found because it can’t even be conceived of in the first place? It’s hard to say. However, he does quote Christof Koch when he said the following:

“‘Well, let’s first forget about the really difficult aspects, like subjective feelings, for they may not have a scientific solution.’”

It’s true here that Koch refers to a “scientific solution” — not a philosophical or metaphysical one. However, would a philosophical or metaphysical solution be any more forthcoming than a scientific one? What would it look like?

So is the question

Why do the oscillations give rise to experience?

even a good question? Is there an answer to this — even in principle? What kind of answer is Chalmers looking for? He isn’t asking the following question:

How do oscillations in the brain give rise to experience?

That question could be answered in physical or causal terms. Though this too is problematic in that, for a start, we’d need to be clear about the word ‘how’. In addition, don’t (at least some) how-answers presuppose (at least some) why-questions? Similarly, don’t (at least some) why-questions also presuppose (at least some) how-answers?

As for Chalmers’ own why-question (rather than his how-question), perhaps there isn’t an answer.

Conclusion

So, to summarize. When Chalmers asks,

“Why do the oscillations give rise to experience?”

we can reply:

Why does anything give rise to experience?

Indeed it can be said that whatever someone posits as an explanation or an answer, Chalmers could ask the very same question. Could a neuroscientist, physicist or philosopher cite any fact about the physical (or the brain) which would make Chalmers happy? In other words, Chalmers can ask his question no matter what anyone says about the brain or the physical and its relation to consciousness/experience.

Therefore the question

Why does physical x give rise to experience?

can always be asked. Indeed Chalmers may keep on asking his Hard Question.

Monday 20 April 2020

Scientists vs. Philosophers: A Debate (on YouTube) Between Physicists and Philosophers

i) Introduction

ii) Stephen Hawking

iii) Lawrence Krauss and Neil DeGrasse Tyson

iv) Philosophical Physicists

v) Philosophy and/or Prediction?

This discussion is hosted by the producer and writer Steve Paulson. It includes the American philosophers David Z. Albert (on the far right) and Jim Holt (in the middle); as well as the physicist Neil Turok (to the immediate right of the host).

Introduction

The video opens up with the host (Steve Paulson) asking this question:

“Why is it that so many physicists are bashing philosophers nowadays?”

Is that true? Stephen Hawking certainly had a go at philosophers and philosophy on more than one occasion. The host himself mentions Hawking saying that “philosophy is dead”. So why “dead”? It’s because (Hawking believed) “philosophers haven’t kept up with physics” (the host’s words). The following is what Hawking himself said (which isn’t quoted in full in the video):

“Traditionally these are questions for philosophy, but philosophy is dead. Philosophy has not kept up with modern developments in science, particularly physics. Scientists have become the bearers of the torch of discovery in our quest for knowledge.”

But let’s not single out Hawking. Here’s the biologist and naturalist Edward O. Wilson saying almost exactly the same thing:

“It appears to me that professional philosophers have not kept up with the foundational disciplines of neuroscience, behavioural genetics, and evolutionary biology, and as a result they have surrendered their franchise to the scientists. The scientists, not the philosophers, now address most effectively the great questions of existence, the mind, and the meaning of the human condition. This surrender seems to be permanent, and professional philosophers have begun a diaspora into other vital and challenging disciplines that include theoretical neuroscience, evolutionary theory, intellectual history and bioethics.”

In response to all that, and as David Albert puts it in the video, one gripe of physicists is that philosophers aren’t doing physics. Albert counters that by saying, “What the hell have physicists done for music lately?” (His point being that physicists are criticising apples for not being oranges.)

Anyway, having quoted the anti-philosophy stuff above from Stephen Hawking and E.O. Wilson, many philosophers themselves have claimed that philosophy is dead (if not in those precise words). Why “dead”? Again, it’s because philosophers haven’t kept up with physics/science. Ontic structural realists are a clear example of this. (Though even they don’t have every philosopher under the sun in mind.) And a few other philosophers (such as Daniel Dennett — see here) are also critical of philosophers for the same reasons cited by scientists.

One can understand how certain physicists are irked by philosophers if David Albert is correct when he states (in the video) the following:

“There have been instances of philosophers telling physicists that they’re not doing their jobs properly.”

That may explain things — at least to some extent. So take on board the following passage (which is in tune with what Albert has just said) from the philosopher of science, Wesley Salmon. He wrote:

“While the philosopher of science may be basically concerned with abstract logical relations, he can hardly afford to ignore the actual methods that scientists have found acceptable. If a philosopher expounds a theory of the logical structure of science according to which almost all of modern physical science is methodologically unsound, it would be far more reasonable to conclude that the philosophical reasoning had gone astray than to suppose that modern science is logically misconceived.”

The host also says that physicists claim that “philosophers don’t add any knowledge to the world”. That’s very ironic because it was philosophers themselves (e.g., the logical positivists and Ludwig Wittgenstein — see here) who first made precisely that point in the 1920s and 1930s.

Yet this also means that in order for physicists to claim that “philosophy doesn’t add any knowledge to the world”, they must do some philosophising themselves. That is:

i) Such physicists need to explain what they mean by “knowledge”.
ii) Such physicists need to tell us why philosophical claims aren’t examples of knowledge.
iii) Such physicists need to tell us why scientific knowledge is the only kind of knowledge.
iv) And such physicists need to tell us why they give scientific knowledge (or science itself) such a preeminent status.

None of the positive or negative answers to those questions will be scientific in nature. One would hope, then, that physicists will never argue that such questions shouldn’t even be asked. However, if any physicists did argue (or simply believe) that such questions shouldn’t be so much as asked, then that extreme position would itself need to be philosophically defended and backed up. And if such scientists didn’t defend it (or if they believe that they aren’t required to defend it), then that somewhat abolutist, elitist and arrogant stance will itself — again — need a philosophical defence. And despite all that, scientists like Lawrence Krauss (see later) and the British developmental biologist Lewis Wolpert (not mentioned in the video, though extremely anti-philosophy — see here) may deny that too.

In the video Jim Holt also makes the point that much of this philosophy “bashing” is itself philosophical. Indeed he says that about what Neil Toruc (the physicist to his left) himself had just said about philosophy. So, if physicists want to stay well clear of philosophy, then they better simply “shut up and calculate” (i.e., rely entirely on the mathematics/science, rather than, say, publish “popular science” books). Yet even in that case that too would require a philosophical defence and would include closet (or implicit) philosophical positions.

Stephen Hawking

Stephen Hawking is actually a bad example of an anti-philosopher. That’s for the simple reason that what he said about philosophy is very naive. More importantly, Hawking himself offered the world his own philosophical position on physics; which he called model-dependent realism. Now how perverse is that?

So here’s a taster of Hawking’s own philosophy:

“There is no picture- or theory-independent concept of reality. Instead we will adopt a view that we will call model-dependent realism: the idea that a physical theory or world picture is a model (generally of a mathematical nature) and a set of rules that connect the elements of the model to observations. This provides a framework with which to interpret modern science.”

Sure, it might have been the case that Hawking didn’t see his model-dependent realism as a philosophical position. He might have seen it as a simple description of the facts and methodologies of physics. But that too would have been monumentally naïve. In addition, if Hawking really classed himself as “a positivist” (as David Albert claims in the video), then his rejection of philosophy was even more ridiculous and/or naïve.

Ironically, it can be just as easily be said that physics is dead because physicists like Hawking haven’t kept up with philosophy. After all, historically it was the case that nearly all scientific advances had their roots in philosophical ideas and theories. Albert Einstein himself owed a strong debt to both Ernst Mach (mentioned by David Albert) and Immanuel Kant (as well as others). Even Isaac Newton was well-schooled in philosophy and his own physics was called “natural philosophy”.

Lawrence Krauss and Neil deGrasse Tyson

It’s interesting that the anti-philosophy physicists the host mentions (apart from Hawking) haven’t done any important work in physics. For example, he mentions the “cutting remarks” of Neil deGrasse Tyson and Lawrence Krauss. Now, no doubt Krauss and Tyson originally did do some work in physics. However, they aren’t known for that work. They’re known almost exclusively for being “popularisers of science”. And as a consequence of that, it can now be said that the revolutionaries of physics have always been both philosophically inclined and aware of much philosophy. I would suggest that Kraus and Tyson, on the other hand, are aware of almost zero contemporary philosophy and they probably know very little about dead philosophers too.

Having said that, if Krauss and Tyson (along with Hawking) already believe that “philosophy hasn’t kept up with science” (and therefore that philosophy has nothing to offer science/physics), then no wonder they have such a naïve view of philosophy. Krauss and Tyson are taking part in some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy here. That is:

i) Because Kraus and Tyson already believe that philosophy has nothing to offer science,
they never read philosophy.
ii) And because they never read philosophy,
they consequently believe that philosophy has nothing to offer science.

Thus all Krauss and Tyson are showing us here is their own ignorance of philosophy: they aren’t showing us that philosophers are ignorant of science. So, as already stated, one simply gets the impression (which can be backed up with fact) that people like Krauss and Tyson simply haven’t read much contemporary philosophy. Indeed I suspect that they don’t even know about much contemporary philosophy. (Jim Holt mentions the fact that when the philosophy of science is brought to the attention of scientists, they always say: “Oh, you mean Karl Popper?”) So, in that case, why do these anti-philosophy physicists believe what they believe about philosophy?

Philosophical Physicists

There have been a few other critical remarks about philosophers from physicists; though not as many as you may think. The opposite is in fact often the case. There have been many philosophical physicists. Having said that, being a philosophical physicist doesn’t necessarily mean that such a physicist must also be a big fan of philosophy (i.e., that he keeps bang up to date). Many physicists only ever mention dead philosophers and not contemporary ones. (Einstein, for example, was strongly inspired by Spinoza; though perhaps not so strongly in his purely scientific work.) On some occasions, the only “philosophers” some physicists rate are philosophical physicists, not philosophical philosophers.

In terms of contemporary and rather less recent philosophical physicists, we have Lee Smolin, Roger Penrose, Carlo Rovelli, Murray Gell-Mann, Julian Barbour, Paul Davies, Freeman Dyson, John Wheeler, Leonard Susskind, Martin Rees, Steven Weinberg, etc. But if we go back in history, there have been many other philosophical philosophers (from Isaac Newton to Niels Bohr); many of whom were very knowledgeable about philosophy.

Philosophy and/or Prediction?

If (as David Albert says, ironically, in the video) some/most physicists believe that “physics is all about predicting the position of pointers” (not “how the world is” or “what the world is like”), then the layperson is probably on the philosophers’ side. (If all philosophers can be lumped together.) Having said that, physicists may have philosophical reasons as to why physics is all about prediction. Alternatively and as stated, that position may be philosophical in itself. That is:

If the “world as it is” is — by definition — out of reach, then emphasising the importance of prediction can be a very philosophical position to take. (Of course this may not be the reasoning of many physicists — though it could be.)

But is all this really about quantum mechanics? After all, since Niels Bohr and Werner Heisenberg in the mid-1920s, physicists themselves have being saying that they can’t tell us “what the world is like” (to use Albert’s words). All they can tell us about are observations, experimental tests, measurements and, yes, predictions. But that lack of access to the quantum realm itself requires both a philosophical defence and a philosophical explanation. Indeed it has received such things — from both physicists and philosophers.

And since quantum mechanics has just been brought up, it also needs to be said that all the “interpretations” of quantum mechanics are — almost by definition — philosophical. That is, they’re philosophical precisely because they’re interpretational. (David Albert cites “Everettian interpretations” and the “measurement problem”.)

So is physics really “all about prediction”? Many dispute this — including some physicists. Yet, ironically, one philosopher believed that physics is (more or less) all about prediction. That philosopher was W.V.O. Quine; who (in his ‘Two Dogmas of Empiricism’) wrote:

“As an empiricist I continue to think of the conceptual scheme of science as a tool, ultimately, for predicting future experience is the light of past experience. Physical objects are conceptually imported into the situation as convenient intermediaries — not by definition in terms of experience, but simply as irreducible posits comparable, epistemologically, to the Gods of Homer.”

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Monday 6 April 2020

Professor Elizabeth S. Anderson Believes That All Scientific Theories are Political

i) Introduction

ii) Value Judgements and Background Assumptions

iii) The Epistemic Evaluation of Scientific Theories

iv) The Political Applications of Scientific Theories

v) Conclusion

Introduction

Elizabeth Secor Anderson is Arthur F. Thurnau Professor and John Dewey Distinguished University Professor of Philosophy and Women’s Studies at the University of Michigan. She has been published by — and featured in — The New Yorker, Jacobin, Chris Hedges’ Truthdig, 3:AM Magazine, Democracy, etc.

This is a commentary on Elizabeth S. Anderson’s paper, ‘Feminist Epistemology: An Interpretation and a defence’. I focus on a single — though important — part of that paper: her account of how (what she calls) “value judgments” and “background assumptions” impinge on (all) scientific theories. More specifically, I focus on Anderson’s account of how political and ideological value judgements and background assumptions do so. That supposition is at the heart of her paper.

Value Judgements and Background Assumptions

There is indeed a “logical gap” between observation/data/evidence and scientific theory. (In the philosophy of science, this is called the underdetermination of theory by data/evidence.) However, it doesn’t automatically follow that we need necessarily plug that gap with what Elizabeth Anderson calls “value judgements”. Of course this depends on what exactly Anderson means by those two words. Considering the rest of her paper, she doesn’t only mean those judgements as to what makes a scientific theory “simple”, “elegant”, “explanatorily powerful”, or “empirically adequate” (or a mixture of all these, as well as other criteria); which most scientists and philosophers of science accept as determinants of scientific theory. Instead, Anderson is talking about ideological and political value judgements.

We all also need to know what Anderson means by “background assumptions”. These background assumptions would be — or would go alongside — the various value judgments; and those value judgments — or at least some of them — are seen to be be (at least in part) ideological and political in nature. Thus there are various background assumptions which will be “used to argue that a given observation constitutes evidence for a given hypothesis”. Again, need these (or any) background assumptions be political or ideological in nature?

Of course there’ll be a problem with that question, at least according to certain political theorists. And that problem arises from the view that all background assumptions (or value judgments) can’t help but be ideological or political in some — or even in many — ways. Here the political theorist’s argument will be about the necessity of the scientific theorist’s ideological or political background assumptions. However, wouldn’t the political theorist’s belief (about scientific theorists or theories) be a case of arguing in a circle if he/she already accepts the necessity of political or ideological background assumptions impinging on scientific theory-construction? If she/he already believes in that necessity, then she/he is bound to find such ideological or political background assumptions (or value-judgments).

So what if some scientific theorists are anti-political, apolitical or just plain ignorant of politics (many are)? Here again the political theorist will back herself/himself up with the statement that “everyone is political” — even if that person (or scientific theorist) is non-political, apolitical or politically ignorant. The argument will be that such apolitical scientific theorists must accept the given ideologies and political realities of her/his milieu (i.e., simply because she/he doesn’t question them). Likewise, even the politically ignorant must be political or ideological in some kind of way — even if in a rudimentary kind of a way.

The other thing is that we’ll need to know what kind of scientific observations Anderson is talking about. Is she talking about observing the effects of particle interactions in a bubble chamber or the effects of having a low income on a family? You can argue that political or ideological value judgements (or background assumptions) may affect the latter; though what about the former? Indeed in principle — even if only in principle — ideological or political background assumptions needn’t necessarily impinge on one’s scientific observations of a poor family either.

For example, what if we programmed a computer to do that “observing”? What if we used someone from a completely different culture or one who wasn’t poor, rich, powerful or particularly political? (Although, I said earlier, the political theorist will reject that final possibility and probably the former ones too.)

I may not be being entirely fair to Anderson by my pitting bubble-chamber observations with the observations of the effects of a low income on the lifestyle of a family. That’s because Anderson provides her own (more likely) example of how politics or ideology can impinge on scientific research and indeed on scientific observation. She cites the examples of evolutionary theory and work in genetics. Here she finds many examples of politics or ideology intruding on scientific theory. Yet this is evolutionary theory and genetics we’re talking about: both of which clearly and obviously impinge on both the human and the social. Despite that (again): what about observing the effects of particle collisions in cloud chamber or studying the behaviour of ants? (One can indeed “politicise” ant behaviour — in many directions.)

So the problem noted earlier will arise here too: which kind of observations is Anderson talking about? Is she talking about all scientific observations and all scientific theories? Specifically, she says that

“it is not unreasonable to use any of one’s firm beliefs, including beliefs about values, to reason from an observation to a theory”.

Again, what kind of observations is Anderson talking about there? Is she talking about all scientific observations? Indeed which kind of “firm beliefs” and “values” is she talking about? Does she also include and allow beliefs and values which strongly clash with her own? (Parts of Anderson’s paper highlight the problems she has with certain beliefs and values.)

Because the phrase “value judgment” is so vague, it’s initially unobjectionable for Anderson to state that theories which “incorporate value judgements can be scientifically sound as long as they are empirically adequate”. But there’s a problem here too. Is it also a question of value judgements when it comes to deciding what actually makes a theory “empirically adequate” (or elegant, parsimonious, explanatorily powerful, highly predictive, etc.) in the first place? (Now does that work for or against Anderson’s stress on value judgments in science and epistemology?) If data, evidence or observations underdetermine theory (as the philosophical theory has it), then the fact that a theory is empirically adequate, etc. may not amount to much if hiding in the bushes behind that empirical adequacy, etc. are not only value judgments (or background assumptions), but also political or ideological value judgments (or background assumptions). If that’s the case, then surely empirical adequacy, etc. may not amount to much.

In any case, many philosophers of science have argued that empirical adequacy is easy (i.e., because data, evidence or observations always underdetermine theory). If that’s true, then perhaps background assumptions (or value judgments) really do take on an importance which we otherwise didn’t expect. Perhaps empirical adequacy, etc. weigh less on the scales than the prior value (political/ideological) judgments (or background assumptions) which are made and which then impinge on that empirical adequacy, etc. (or on what we believe is empirically adequate, etc.).

The Epistemic Evaluation of Scientific Theories

Anderson says that the logical gap between

“the epistemic evaluation of theories cannot be sharply separated from the interests their applications serve”.

Yes they can… surely? So the argument is that, normatively, it is wrong to ignore such applications. (That too would depend on one’s normative stance on these issues.) Again, this would — or could — be more the case of a normative judgement (or epistemic evaluation) being applied — by the feminist epistemologist — to the otherwise neutral or apolitical epistemic evaluations of scientific theories. What’s being said by Anderson is normative in itself. It’s not a case of saying that scientific theorists indulge in epistemic evaluations which are sometimes (or always?) political or ideological. It’s more a case that Anderson believes that they should indulge in such political evaluations. That is, a scientific theorist can (and often does) separate his theory — and even his epistemic evaluations — form “the interests their applications serve”. Anderson is arguing that she/he shouldn’t do so.

This, then, ends up being less of a project in discovering the value judgements or background assumptions (specifically political and ideological ones) involved in scientific theory-construction, and more a case of a feminist epistemologist saying that the scientific theorist should have a political and ideological attitude towards the political applications of his theories. Not only that. The scientific theorist should have politically/ideologically acceptable (not the true, correct or empirically adequate) attitudes towards the applications of her/his scientific theories. Similarly, this also means that this is also all about scientific theorists having the wrong kind of political and ideological background assumptions and making the wrong kinds of value judgment. That is, it’s not just a case of scientific theorists simply having background assumptions and making value-judgements.

We’ve just crossed over another and wider logical gap: the gap between scientific theory and the outright political and ideological assessments of — or normative judgements upon — those scientific theories.

This account of Anderson’s views is correct because Anderson herself says that it is (i.e., at least indirectly). Anderson argues that feminist naturalised epistemology

“rejects the positivist view that the epistemic merits of theories can be assessed independently of their ideological applications”.

Here again it’s not a case of Anderson — or any other feminist epistemologist — discovering the scientific theorist’s political and ideological positions which impinge on her/his accounts of the “the epistemic merits” of his theories. It’s more a case of Anderson arguing that ideological and political considerations should impinge on her/his accounts of the epistemic merits of his theories. Not only that. It should be ideologically and politically correct considerations which do so.

We’ve moved from discovering — or simply acknowledging — the role and importance of ideology and politics (in the construction of scientific theories) to the view that scientific theorists should be fully ideologically and politically aware all the way through the process of scientific theory-construction. To be more specific, the scientific theorist should always keep his eye firmly fixed on all possible future “political applications” (Anderson’s words) of her/his theories.

The Political Applications of Scientific Theories

We can characterise Anderson’s position by making these three points:

i) Anderson stressed the “logical gap” between observations/data/evidence and the theories which arise from them.
ii) She then noted the logical gap between the “epistemic evaluation of theories” and “the interests their applications serve”.

iii) Finally, Anderson also noted the logical gap between scientific theories and their political applications (which is obviously related to ii) above).

Just as Anderson discerns the possible ideological and political content of scientific theories which aren’t (to many others or the scientific theorists themselves) apparently ideological or political at all; so now she also tackles the political and ideological use of scientific theories.

Specifically, Anderson says that “a theory is [can be] used to support unpopular political programmes”. We’ll of course need to be clear what it means to use a theory; let alone what the words “unpopular political programmes” mean. Nonetheless, Anderson does say that such a use wouldn’t necessarily show us that “the theory is false”. That’s certainly true. Isn’t it the case that, for example, the theories and findings of quantum mechanics were used — directly or indirectly — to build atomic weapons? (In turn, they were then used for blatantly “political programmes” — from the bombing of Hiroshima to sustaining - some may argue - the Cold War.) However, just as my ballpoint pen can be used to stab someone’s eye out (but which can’t be blamed on either the inventor or manufacturers of ballpoint pens), so theories in quantum mechanics — or at least those who thought up the theories — can’t be blamed for Hiroshima or for the Cold War. (The earlier work in quantum mechanics began in the early 1920s: that was some twenty years before there was any research into nuclear weapons —i.e., roughly, in 1940.)

To tackle an example which Anderson herself (see later) cites.

In principle, even if a scientific theory or scientific research states that women are intellectually inferior to men (in whatever way you like — this is a what-if story), that too doesn’t automatically mean that it will be used to support political programmes of female oppression or even be used as a theoretical excuse to force women to stay at home. That possible theory of — or research into - the mental inferiority of women could be true and still not be used for forcing women to stay at home (or for any other discriminatory political or social practice). However, in this case at least, the reality is that any complete separation of theory and political application will be unlikely. That is, such scientific findings, research or theories will indeed be “politicised”. Yet much of that politicisation will be down to those who want to make sure that such findings, research or theories are never politically instantiated. Many political theorists and activists will even argue that such research be discontinued (i.e., because it’s politically or ideologically objectionable).

Thus we firstly have the scientific findings, research or theories, and then we have the politicisation of such things. Nonetheless, Anderson’s argument is that politics and ideology are there from the very beginning — i.e., in the actual findings, research or theories. And if we accept that, then any politicisation which later occurs is only additional to the inherently political nature of science itself.

Anderson cites her own example of a bad political application of a (possibly true?) theory: the case of Professor Steven Goldberg. According to Anderson, he

“uses his theory of sex differences in aggression to justify a gendered division of labour that deliberately confines women to low-prestige occupations”.

As stated earlier, Anderson says that although there may be bad political applications of a scientific theory, that doesn’t necessarily make the theory false. And here too she talks about this further “logical gap”:

“The proponents of the programme [should respect] the logical gap between fact and value.”

However, even if the “facts” are applied (for example) to building nuclear weapons or sexist social policy, that is still — on the surface at least — only an application of the facts. It can still be argued that the value bit of the equation only comes in later on — when it’s directed at the appliers of the theory. (Such as the technologists or the political decision-makers.) It will of course still be argued (by Anderson and others) that scientific theorists should be fully conversant with the political applications of their theories… But should they? This doesn’t seem to be a question of the scientific theorist being burdened down with hidden or unacknowledged values (specifically political and/or ideological values). Rather, it’s really a question of values (specifically political and ideological values) being foisted or imposed upon them by feminist epistemologists, feminist philosophers of science, or even by people directly involved in politics.

This would suggest that all this is actually about the normative and political claim that scientific theorists should be politically and ideologically biased; rather than them actually being politically or ideologically biased (if often in the wrong direction). In other words, at this level (at least) all the ideology and politics is coming from one direction: from the feminist epistemologist (or from the feminist philosopher of science). Thus if scientific theorists don’t know — or care — about the political applications of their theories, then it’s hard to accuse them of using ideological or political value judgments or of having ideological or political background assumptions. All the politicising (or the making of political value judgments) seems to come later: from the feminist epistemologist and from the political appliers of scientific theories. Although (as stated earlier) Anderson (as well as other feminist epistemologists) may argue — and many political theorists do argue this way — that the scientific theorist not caring (or even not knowing) about the political applications of his theories is itself a deeply political and ideological stance.

Conclusion

To sum up.

Professor Elizabeth S. Anderson isn’t simply arguing that political and ideological value judgements and background assumption exist in all scientific theorising. Anderson is also making the political point that there are many politically-incorrect value judgements and background assumptions which underpin scientific theorising. In addition, scientific theories are often applied in ways that (to her at least) are politically objectionable.

This means that Anderson’s paper is just as much a work of politics as it is a work of epistemology (or of philosophy of science). Having said that, if Anderson deems the scientific theory/politics “binary opposition” to be false in the first place (i.e., it’s naive to separate science from politics), then my interpretation is hardly surprising. Indeed, by Anderson’s own lights, she must surely agree (at least in part) with my broad conclusion about her own position.

Finally, if Anderson is correct to argue (if often indirectly) that politics and ideology pervade all scientific theories, and that she additionally argues (again, often indirectly) that such politics and ideology should be politically acceptable (but to whom?), then scientific theory (alongside epistemology and philosophy of science) effectively becomes a political battleground. Despite all that, it’s probably the case that Anderson believes that this possible scientific theory/politics battle has always been the case anyway.

So my broad conclusion is that Anderson advances the position (if somewhat indirectly) that all science is inherently political. (Historically, this was also the position of both the Nazi and Soviet states — see ‘Ideologically Correct Science’.) Thus it follows (to her at least) that epistemologists, philosophers of science and political activists/politicians (or at least those who share her own politics) must make sure that all science is both politically acceptable and politically correct.