Just found this review. It’s worth checking out.
Just found this review. It’s worth checking out.
The Thomist Edward Feser has written a few blog articles on issues relating to Popper’s work in philosophy of mind here, here, and here. His most recent post Hayek and Popper on the mind is also worth a read.
I don’t agree with Feser on many things (his arguments for Catholicism for one), but he seems to appreciate work done by Popper (perhaps when his criticisms against monism are useful) and is an excellent writer.
It’s difficult for anyone working in philosophy to find a nice casual philosophy-themed shirt. A few years ago, I picked up this most awesome shirt:
I’ve just learned that the company behind the shirt, Amorphia Apparel, has come out with a new line of t-shirts. And they are awesome. Most of them use the instantly recognizable font of some of my favorite punk and metal bands, mashed together with famous philosophers and scientists. I think I’ll have to pick up a copy of this one soon, seeing as I rate Hume as one of the greatest philosophers …
I’m just sad that there’s no Popper shirt. What would it even look like? I decided to make a quick mock-up Popper-logo in an homage to Iron Maiden.
If a basic statement and theory are incoherent, then observation reports cannot inform us that theories are wrong and theories cannot inform us that observation reports are wrong. Either the theories or observation reports are wrong — or both. Neither T1 nor T2 should be adopted a priori, for they effectively annihilate one another: all we can see is an incoherence between T1 and T2.
Furthermore, even after we recognize an incoherence between an observation report and a theory, this ‘recognizing’ is relative to a given system of logic, background assumptions, language, and cognitive framework: we are even fallible in recognizing incoherence. Whatever method or route we follow that leads to preferring one over the other will either not rest on an Archimedean point, or will not be known to rest on an Archimedean point. All is theory-laden and subject to error. We must admit that it is possible to change the logic we employ, statements we adopt, theories we accept, methods we follow, language we use, or the cognitive frameworks we inhabit, for none of them are privileged.
Wesley Salmon objects to Popper’s theory of knowledge on the grounds that, contrary to its stated rejection of a principle of induction, in order to explain how one can rationally decide between competing unfalsified theories, it requires the adoption of a principle of induction. The advice to an applied scientist or engineer to act as if the best-tested theories are probably true and the untested theories are probably false, though no doubt excellent advice, does not have any claim to be dubbed ‘rational’ unless a pragmatic principle of induction is adopted.
If the applied scientist’s choice is guided by the best-tested scientific theories available to him, then it appears that he is assuming that what was successful in the past will remain successful in the future. This would be an assumption rejected by Popper, for it employs the principle of induction. However, if a scientist, following Popper’s theory of knowledge, renounces a principle of induction, then he is not allowed to say that ‘future unobserved events will resemble past observed events.’
Here is a copy of the first part of an unfinished biography of Karl Popper, by William W. Bartley: Rehearsing a Revolution [.pdf]. I suggest reading pp. 50-71, for they deal with Popper’s trouble with Kant and Kierkegaard.
Two points of interest I’ve picked up from talking to friends of Bartley: (1) he was either bisexual or gay (this puts his Wittgenstein in a different light); (2) he took up writing the — rather poor, in my opinion — hagiography of Werner Erhard in order to live comfortably in California with his long-time companion.
Peter Singer’s 1974 article in the New York Review of Books, Discovering Karl Popper is extremely favorable of Popper’s philosophy of science–except for three paragraphs in the middle, which are highly informed criticism. I’ve reproduced them below along with some limited comments in light of that criticism.
A man will be imprisoned in a room with a door that’s unlocked and opens inwards; as long as it does not occur to him to pull rather than push. (Ludwig Wittgenstein)
In Wittgenstein’s posthumous Philosophical Investigations he argues that meaning of terms is equal to its use within language: each ‘linguistic universe’ has its own rules. Content cannot be separated from criteria by which they are judged: criteria is never inter-cultural, but sub-cultural. Each discipline or ‘language’ game has its own standards, which cannot be reducible to other standards or principles. The task of the philosopher is then to describe and clarify standards, not to judge, defend, or criticize proposals laid out within a ‘language game.’ Criticism can only point out the misuse of language, or violations of the rules.
Argument or judgment does not cross disciplines, for they exist only in reference to criteria of the rules of the game. This leads to relativism, where there is no rational choice to be made between competing games: all games are equally defensible.
Larry Laudan’s well-known paper “The Demise of the Demarcation Problem” has been republished several times in several volumes. The most readily available copy I could find was in “Physics, Philosophy, and Psychoanalysis: Essays in Honor of Adolf Grünbaum.” The paper is worth reading for Laudan’s historical analysis of the demarcation problem, but two points in the essay stand out as supremely lackluster, especially for Laudan.
Bas van Fraassen’s work is, to use the words of another philosopher said to me during a brief Skype conversation, “one of the best philosophers of science alive.” But why? The concluding pages of his article The False Hopes of Traditional Epistemology (2000) stand out as bucking the trend in philosophy of science and epistemology in much the same way Bartley and Popper did–he considers the historical problem-situation, finds faults with all the available options, and then reconfigures the problem in such a way as to dig out an underlying assumption.
In this case, his language is still laden with certain terms that make him far more understandable to others that still cling to these assumptions, but his conclusions are, when understood, close enough to critical rationalism as to deserve either catcalls and gnashing of teeth from the traditionalist monkeys that cling to the rafters, or a long time spent reflecting by critical rationalists. I’ve already taken on board several of his positions, and may take on more in time, but even if I should reject them in due course, he has provided, even implicitly, a powerful alternative to critical rationalism.
I take it that what is rational is precisely what is rationally permitted. Thus we are rational in believing something exactly when we are not rationally compelled to believe the opposite. This implies, tautologically, that nothing more than staying within the bounds of reason is needed for this status of rationality–not good reasons, not a rationale, not support of any special sort, not a pedigree of inductive reasoning or confirmation, nothing is needed above and beyond coherence. Thus any truly coherent position is rational.
Now this may strike you as absurd, because it seems to imply that ‘anything goes’, the ugly brought of skepticism’s ‘nothing goes’. But that is simply not so. If it were so, I would have come to an impasse and would have to admit that the constrains of rationality are more than coherence. But it is not so, and we have not in fact come to an impasse.
… Logically speaking there may be infinitely many coherent alternatives to our posterior opinion, but almost none of these will be live options for us. This is not an accidental feature of our situation, but integral to it, exactly because we have prior opinion and prior understanding, which is not laid out for us on the side, like a textbook, but which is already our own. Any small part of it we can think of changing as part of our response, and any large part of it we can think as possibly changed, to any imaginable alterative, over the long run, in the course of time. But we do not have the wherewithal to respond in more than a limited variety of ways at any given time. Many of the imaginable alteratives to what seems plausible to us cannot be incorporated by us.
… It does not mean that there are constraints on rationality beyond coherence, and it does not mean that we are following apliative rules after all. It means simply that the Neurath ‘mariners repairing their boat at sea’ for m of relativism does not lead us into a damagingly enfeebled epistemic enterprise. The ‘already on a boat’ part defeats the skeptical argument based on the ‘at sea’ part.
So here is my conclusion. We supply our own opinion, with nothing to ground it, and no method to give us an extra source of knowledge. Only the ’empty’ techniques of logic and pure math are available either to refine and improve or expose the defects of this option. That is the human condition. But it is enough. (Bas van Fraassen, The False Hopes of Traditional Epistemology, Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, Vol. LX, No. 2, March 2000, 277-279)
The problem: if a scientist abandons theory A after deciding that it does not stand up to criticism (say, the theory fails a crucial experiment), the scientist could make the wrong choice. Theory A could very well be true, or be more approximately true (have more verisimilitude), than the replacement theory B.
Why is this a problem?
This problem applies to any number of crucial experiments: a scientist may abandon a theory with a high degree of objective verisimilitude because he mistakenly thinks it has a low degree of verisimilitude.
The set of preformed crucial experiments will be very small, smaller than all crucial experiments available to the scientist at any one time, which in turn will be very, very small compared to all crucial experiments. This further assumes that the results of the tests are easily decidable.
Think of it this way: the scientist has insufficient reasons, which amount to nothing, after preforming a crucial experiment. Now, just keep adding additional insufficient reasons. What does the scientist have? Nothing.
What have we learned? There cannot be any evidence that anything can raise the objective probability of future success.
Assume that 1 is not an immediate problem. All results of tests are conclusive. The problem still remains, and appears to be far more robust and serious for the scientist than Quine’s problem. Now, how do we deal with 2?
One solution is to tentatively reject A and adopt B. After all, they’re only theories. Truth takes second to coherence, but the rule of operations is the negation of Quine’s holism and goes against Popper’s claim that scientists are interested in increasing verisimilitude in scientific theories. If anything, this best approximates van Fraassen’s position on empirical adequacy.
The biggest problems in critical rationalism, expressed as broadly as possible:
The same could be said of most schools, and I do not intend to target anyone directly. That said, the work of historians of science and philosophy is invaluable, giving unseen insights into brilliant minds; however, Popper should only be valued because he, like many before him, paved the way for others. Of course, 1 is often not a problem, for younger generations often have had little understanding of the full implications of critical rationalism, and good historical scholarship can only help. That said, all things being equal, 1 is not as important as 2 in the long run, for critical rationalism will stagnate without constant criticism and revision in light of that criticism.
What can be done to advance critical rationalism? It is still in a savage state.
Duncan Pritchard, who holds a chair in epistemology at the University of Edinburgh, published What is This Thing Called Knowledge? some years ago. He has three textbooks, two published books on epistemology, and approximately fifty journal articles to his name. Let me make this clear: Pritchard is no first-year undergrad at a community college. And yet, his What is This Thing Called Knowledge? has a short section on Popper’s response to the problem of induction that is … shameful. Just shameful.
Positive theories of knowledge assert that, if they are correct, future guesses are guaranteed to have (at least probabilistically) a marked improvement in their objective verisimilitude, not just in their increased empirical adequacy. If this were true, it would be an immense boon for everyone. Logical negativism rules such a possibility out a priori; in fact, it originates in the supposed failure of all positive theories of knowledge. Therefore, the greatest argument one can muster against this dogma in logical negativism is to demonstrate that some kind of necessary increase in verisimilitude occurs when replacing an old theory with a new one.
Teacher: Previously, we touched on how non-scientific statements play a bigger role than Popper first acknowledged. Gamma, you said yesterday that you disagreed with Sigma’s description of the scientific process?
I’m actually surprised that this piece, which is quite good (albeit written in academic-speak) was so popular, for what it says seems self evident.
Flew had a habit of following the latest philosophical fads, but not always understanding their purpose. For instance, when Flew says,
When the Sceptic in the parable asked the Believer, “just how does what you call an invisible, intangible, eternally elusive gardener differ from an imaginary gardener or even from no gardener at all?” he was suggesting that the Believer’s earlier statement had been so eroded by qualification that it was no longer an assertion at all, (bolding added)
this is nothing but an inversion of logical positivism’s verification principle of meaning. Flew claims that only scientific statements can be refuted. Religious statements are not meaningful, for if religious statements are not scientific statements, they cannot be refuted. Meaning is then tied to statements that are refutable at least in principle, while meaningless is tied to uninformative or irrefutable statements.
Is such a claim as ‘self evident’ as Coyne claims? I think not, since demarcating science from non-science by way of meaning is a dead end. Religious statements are meaningful, but do not necessarily refer: the statement “Merlin rides a unicorn” is a meaningful statement. Asserting that said statement is meaningless leaves me shrugging my shoulders. Such a statement makes sense to me, but if it is called ‘meaningless,’ in the process all sorts of meaningful statements may turn into meaningless statements. For example, any sort of God-conjecture (“There exists a being with characteristics x,y,z”) is a strictly existential statement, and therefore not falsifiable … since as a matter of logic, strictly existential statements are verifiable, but not falsifiable.
Has Flew then done away with the meaningfulness of strictly existential statements?
Flew does touch on the distastefulness of the behavior of holding on to a statement come what may,
Now it often seems to people who are not religious as if there was no conceivable event or series of events the occurrence of which would be admitted by sophisticated religious people to be a sufficient reason for conceding “There wasn’t a God after all” or “God does not really love us then,”
but Flew misses the point once more, and in the process conflates methodological or procedural rules and objective status of statements: Flew is now talking about ad hoc immunizing procedures when confronted with confounding ‘monsters.’ Monster-barring is not a distasteful behavior solely of the religious individual, but of the pseudo-scientific or non-scientific individual. Scientific statements may be falsifiable, but a scientist may hold on to them come what may as well!
Sagan’s classic The Dragon In My Garage is somewhat better than Flew’s, but it occasionally runs into its own problems or misses the big picture to rag on religion. Russell’s Celestial Teapot is another variation on the same theme, and ought to be preferred over the other two for its focus on doubt, rather than meaning.
I go to a wedding and I miss a gigantic explosion in the blogosphere over Sir Harold Kroto’s Nobel Laureate lecture. Eh, I’ve missed worse things.
Andrew Brown at The Guardian has an adequate–but far from complete–drubbing of Kroto’s proto-positivist claim that “Science is the only philosophical construct we have to determine TRUTH with any degree of reliability.”
PZ Myers disagrees with Brown, but I’m not surprised. After reading him for a few years, he comes off as a genuine naïve Popperian, saying “If someone were to say something truly false and giggleworthy, like for instance, “all cats are black,” what I’d do is go out and find a Siamese and a white Persian and wave them in his face. Isn’t that obvious?” After Quine, it isn’t so obvious anymore. Isn’t that obvious? PZ is a scientist, and scientists aren’t often paid to think about epistemology, so I won’t hold it against him. Only through a critical discussion can we come to an agreement, tentative though it may be, about things like the color of cats–and yet this agreement is forever provisional. If someone were to point out this distinction in private, PZ would probably temper his initial statement, but headlines sell papers.
Kroto, Myers, and Brown all come off thinking that science is directed at establishing claims–I am apparently the odd man out when I concede that, rather than lifting up other traditions to science’s level, science does not have the epistemic privilege Kroto and PZ think: there is no way to reliably determine the truth.
That said, we can choose to prefer science over other ‘ways of knowing’ for the same reason we can choose to prefer a theory that has survived criticism over one that has not: while its past success at solving our problems provide no ‘good reasons’ for favoring science, the failures of alternative ‘ways of knowing’ are sufficient to provisionally adopt what remains.