Featured

Welcome to Maverick Philosopher

My name is William F. Vallicella, I have the doctorate in philosophy (Boston College, 1978), and I have published a couple of books and 70 or so articles in the professional journals. A confirmed blogger in the grip of cacoethes scribendi, I’ve been online since May 2004 on various platforms.  This is MavPhil Gen IV.  I publish online here, at Substack, on Facebook, and at X.  I began posting at Substack in early 2021 under the rubric “Philosophy in Progress.” The Substack entries are intended to assist educated non-philosophers in clarifying their thinking about matters of moment.  My PhilPeople page links to my Substack articles and provides a list of my professional publications. 

Two-line biography:  I taught philosophy at various universities in the USA and abroad. At the relatively young age of 41 I resigned from  a tenured position to live the eremitic life of the independent philosopher in the Sonoran desert. 

Interests: Everything. Homo sum: humani nihil a me alienum puto. (Terentius) “I am a man: I consider nothing human foreign to me.” 

Motto: “Study everything, join nothing.” (Paul Brunton)

Comment Policy: This site is not a discussion board.  Comments must address directly what the author says or what the commenters say.  Other comments will not be allowed to appear. Comments should be pithy and to the point. In these hyperkinetic times, the regnant abbreviation is TL;DR.  If you are a cyberpunk needing to take a data dump, please relieve yourself elsewhere.

My politics?  From Democrat to Dissident

Political Burden of Proof: As contemporary ‘liberals’ become ever more extreme, they increasingly assume what I will call the political burden of proof. The onus is now on them to defeat the presumption that they are so morally and intellectually obtuse as not to be worth talking to.

Much more below the fold. Best wishes to all men and women of good will who love truth, seek it, and strive to incorporate it in their lives.

 

Continue reading “Welcome to Maverick Philosopher“

Original and Derived Intentionality, Circles, and Regresses 2.0

I dust off, revise, and expand this old entry in connection with discussions with Malcolm Pollack, Dmitri D. et al. about artificial intelligence. One of the questions is whether AI systems are subjects of intrinsic intentional states.  I incline to the view that they are not. Since intentional states are meaning-laden, I further incline to the view that no AI system, not even the most advanced LLMs, understand language or anything else.  They are merely syntactic engines.

………………………….

1.  Intentionality: Original and Derived

All will agree that there is a distinction to be made between original (intrinsic) and derived intentionality. Intentionality is aboutness. For example, a map is not the terrain it maps; the map is about the terrain. What makes the map about the terrain? A map is not about a chunk of terrain and its geological features just in virtue of the map’s physical and geometrical properties. Consider the contour lines on a topographical map. The closer together, the steeper the terrain. Closer together means  steeper. But surely the lines and their arrangement have no representational power in themselves. That closer together should mean steeper is a meaning assigned by map-makers and agreed to by map-users.  

The point is that a map’s meaning is not intrinsic to the map qua physical object. The meaning derives from us. There has to be one or more meaning-assigners and meaning-apprehenders external to the map to give the map a meaning and determine what that meaning is.  The map’s intentionality is derivative: it derives, or has it source in, our intentionality, which is original.   

So some things, maps for example, derive their semantic properties from other things, map-makers and map-users, for example.  Semantics has to do with sense and reference.  ‘Meaning’ covers both.  Setting sense aside for now, the reference or referent of a map is that to which it purports to refer.   

But note that a map needn’t actually refer to anything to be  map.  It need only purport to refer. This is a well-known characteristic feature of intentionality or aboutness or object-directedness: the existence in reality of the intentional object does not follow from the fact that something intends it.  Thus the existence in reality of a chunk of terrain does not follow from the existence of a map of it.   The map directly below purports to refer to something extra-cartographically real, but fails in its purport. It is no less a map for all that.

Suppose I draw you a map so that you can find my camp in the extra-cartographically real Superstition Wilderness. I use the Greek uppercase Φ to mark my camp and the Greek uppercase Ψ to mark the camp of a heavily-armed crazy man that you are well advised to avoid. I intend that Φ designate my camp, and Ψ his. That intending (narrow sense) is a case of intentionality (broad sense). I am the meaning-assigner.  I assign a referent to the Greek symbols, thereby making those inscriptions mean (refer to) something, symbolize something.

A symbol may be viewed for certain purposes as a purely syntactic unit. To view it this way  is to abstract  from its semantic properties. A symbol in use, however a symbol that symbolizes, a symbol that exercises its symbolic function, is a syntactic unit that means something other than it, and is therefore more than a merely syntactic.  A syntactic engine is a machine that manipulates symbols qua syntactic units, ‘tokens’ is what the AI guys call them.   A computer is just a syntactic engine.  The same is true of the most advanced AI systems. The manipulation of symbols as mere syntactic units cannot confer meaning upon them.  Such ‘manipulation’  is neither constitutive of nor sufficient for meaning.

Or at least this is a question we need to consider. I incline to the view that, just as you cannot squeeze blood from a stone, you cannot squeeze semantics from syntactics.  No AI system, not even the most advanced LLM,  can by itself, mean anything or understand anything.  

It is also important to note that the very distinction between syntax and semantics presupposes languages and understanding, and thus presupposes the antecedent ‘marriage’  of  the syntactic and semantic. How then can we reduce the latter to the former?  I’ll spell this out in later posts.

I have said enough to make clear the difference between derived and original intentionality. The symbols on my map derive their intentionality or aboutness from my intentionality which, relative to theirs, is original. But if the origin of their intentionality is in me, and not in them, might it not be the case that my intentionality is itself derived? After all, it does not follow from the fact that I am the source of the intentionality of the symbols on my map that my intentionality does not itself have a source. But if so, then a regress threatens which appears to be both infinite and vicious. But before discussing this further, I need to bring in another point.

2.  Ascriptivism Versus Realism

Daniel Dennett appears to hold an ascriptivist or projectivist or imputationalist or instrumentalist theory of intentionality: nothing is an intentional system intrinsically or an sich; a system is intentional only in virtue of someone’s assigning intentional states to it. Thus there is no intrinsic intentionality in my computer (when it is running a chess program or any program).  But it may be nonetheless useful to take up the “intentional stance” vis-a-vis the computer and impute to it beliefs and desires (e.g., the desire to inflict mate) in order to explain its behavior. Given the computer’s complexity, the intentional stance promises an easier explanation that the physical and design stances do.

A realist about intentionality, on the other hand, is someone who holds that some systems really are intrinsically intentional: their having beliefs and desires and other object-directed states is not a matter of anyone’s viewing them as having such states.  I am a realist: some systems are intrinsically intentional.  But there are two ways to be a realist.

One way  is by being a reductive realist. Such a person admits the reality of intentional states but identifies them with something believed to be more fundamental such as brain states. If you believe, with Fred Dretske, that intentionality does not need naturalizing, but already is a natural phenomenon in the natural world, then you are presumably a reductive realist about intentionality. You are saying this: there is intrinsic intentionality, but it is physical in nature.

I’m a realist too, but a nonreductive one: I hold that intentionality is irreducibly real: it cannot be reduced to, or identified with, anything else. It is what it is and not some other thing. It is what it is and it is spiritual in nature. Part of the reason I believe this is because the alternatives are quite hopeless.  But what on earth or in heaven does ‘spiritual’ mean?  This is a challenge I face.

3. The Ascriptivist Regress 

Back to Dennett. Suppose one takes the ascriptivist line. Then an infinite regress appears unavoidable. Suppose I ascribe intentionality to my chess playing computer. Quite obviously, my ascribing, projecting, imputing, is itself an intentional state or a series of such states. So if ascriptivism is true, then my acts of ascribing must themselves be ascribed — otherwise they are intrinsic and Danny’s game is over. This launches us on a regress that is obviously infinite since at each level, one can “kick it up a notch.” It is also clear that this regress (unlike the truth regress) is vicious since at no level is the explanation of intentionality complete.

One might think to avoid the regress by embracing a circle: I ascribe intentional states to the computer and it ascribes intentional states to me. But surely this is even more of an absurdity for reasons that needn’t be belabored.

The upshot is that pure ascriptivism is incoherent, an utter non-starter. Dennett’s actual view is a bit different. 

4. Adulterated Ascriptivism : Homunculism

Perhaps the solution is to mix some realism in with the ascriptivism. Maybe it goes like this. I have a head full of homunculi. These little men and women, working together, ascribe intentionality to me. But each homunculus has its intentionality ascribed to it by other, stupider, homunculi which are constituents of it. The stupider homunculi, in turn, are composed of even stupider ones, and so on until we get to the level of individual neurons which aren’t ‘about’ anything. The base level homunculli are so stupid that one could say that they don’t even rise to the level of being either stupid or intelligent.

Does this avoid the dilemma of having to choose between a vicious infinite regress and a vicious circle? What Dennett is proposing is a finite regress that terminates with something naturalistically acceptable, namely entities that lack intrinsic or original intentionality.

Admittedly, this proposal gets rid of the infinity of the regress, but not its viciousness: we still have no explanation of intentionality. Consider the base-level homunculi. They are so primitive as to lack all intentionality. How then can they ascribe intentionality to their colleagues one level up? Surely it is obvious that the ascribing of intentionality is itself an intentional act or series thereof.

The point is quite simple. If the regress terminates with base entities utterly devoid of intentionality, then no higher level entities will be intentional. For the higher-ups get their intentionality only from the ones lower down in the hierarchy. If the ones at the very bottom have no intentionality, then they can’t transmit it up. But if, on the other hand, the ones at the very bottom possess intentionality, then it is false that all intentionality is derived.

In the final analysis, Dennett is an eliminativist about intentionality. His position amounts in the end to the denial of intentionality. To see this, you just have to think clearly. Dennett is saying that all intentionality is derivative, none is intrinsic or original. But that makes sense only if one embraces an infinite regress. But in this case an infinite regress must be vicious. On the other hand, a regress that terminates either terminates with entities that are intrinsically intentional or entities that are not. If the former, the game is over. If the latter, no intentionality gets transmitted up and Dennett is an eliminativist about intentionality just as he is an eliminativist about consciousness and qualia.

Hayek, Polanyi, Tacit Knowledge and Artificial Intelligence

On the Knowledge Problem, Tacit Knowledge, and Artificial Intelligence is an article we need to study.  It begins:

In May 2023 the MIT economist Daron Acemoglu, who went on to share the 2024 Nobel prize in economics, asked a question on Twitter. Friedrich Hayek argued in 1945 that central planning fails because no planner can collect and compute all the information an economy runs on. “What if computational power of central planners improved tremendously?” Acemoglu wrote. “Would Hayek then be happy with central planning?”

About thirty economists sent him the same reply, according to Shruti Rajagopalan, who hosts the Mercatus Center’s Ideas of India podcast: Hayek never made a computational argument. He made an argument about the nature of knowledge itself. Acemoglu reached the same conclusion in print that June. In an essay titled “Hayek vs. AI Socialism”, he quoted Hayek’s warning that the relevant knowledge “by its nature cannot enter into statistics” and concluded that “not even an all-powerful large language model” could deal with it. AI socialism, he wrote, “offers only a superficial critique of Hayek.” That distinction is the whole story, and it explains why a model trained on most of what has ever been written still cannot do what a well-trained human mind does.

The Joys of Philosophy and its Value

Top o’ the Stack.  The first joy:

1. There is the sheer intellectual pleasure that some of us derive from thinking and writing about philosophy and its problems. The strangeness of the ordinary entrances us and we find disciplined wondering about it deeply satisfying. We humans like doing what we have the power to do well, and those of us who like thinking and writing and entering into dialog with the like-minded are made happy by these pursuits even if solutions are out of the reach of mortals, as I believe they are. What Siegbert Tarrasch said of chess is no less true of philosophy, “Like love, like music, it has the power to make men happy.”

What Have We Learned from 9/11/01?

Malcolm Pollack:

What have we learned? Nothing at all, apparently. The influx of Islam into the West not only didn’t stop, but accelerated after the towers fell, and New York City — Ground Zero! — now has a Muslim mayor who advocates “globalizing the intifada”. More than 100 new mosques have opened in New York, and the Muslim population of the city’s metropolitan area has swelled to 1.5 million.

September 11th, 2026, is, yes, a grim anniversary, but for me the real sorrow is not just about that awful day, but about everything that came after, the prospect of what lies ahead, and the intractable immensity of our stupidity.

Our friend Malcolm is right.  But things are now immeasurably worse due to advanced AI capabilities at the disposal of bad human actors who want to learn how to, say, aerosolize pathogens.   But it is worse even than this given what non-human AI ‘agents’ can do.  See Niall Ferguson, Apocalypse Now.

If our cyber-astute friend Dmitri is reading this, perhaps he can explain to us how exactly ‘agent’ is used in current AI cyberspeak.  As he knows, I am a stickler for razor-sharp definitions.

Is New Jersey an Artifact?

This anti-anti-realist  Stack-topper can function as a response to our friend Dmitri who  in a recent comment seems to embrace a thorough-going  ‘Goodmanaical’ anti-realism. I am disrespectfully alluding to Nelson Goodman’s Ways of Worldmaking (Hackett Press, 1978).  I thought I had written a critique of it, but a search of my archives turned up nothing. The above Substack article goes over similar ground.

Thus Dmitri thinks that there is no finite-mind-independent fact of the matter as to whether or not AI engines are sentient.  I say there is such a fact, and tentatively incline, on the basis of various arguments, to deny that AIs are sentient.

Why does it matter?  Because sentient beings make a moral claim on us that insentient beings do not, or at least not to the same extent.  If animals have rights, than that is presumably because of their sentience, their ability to feel pleasure and pain, in which case we have moral obligations toward them, e.g., the obligation not to torture them to death for our pleasure.  So if an AI engine is sentient, then presumably it too has rights . . . .

In the mid-90s while living in Ankara, Turkey, I came across  an article by Alvin Plantinga which, if memory serves, began with the claim that there are three main positions in philosophy: theism, naturalism, and creative anti-realism. I think that tripartition is  basically right, except that I would broaden the first category to include positions that are supernaturalist but not theistic in Plantinga’s sense.  Plotinus and McTaggart serve as examples of thinkers who espouse such supernaturalist positions.

The only two serious contenders, as I saw it then and see it now, are some version of metaphysical naturalism (according to which causal reality is exhausted by the space-time system and its contents) or some version of supernaturalism.  Accordingly, creative anti-realism is a non-starter for reasons some of which are supplied by the above-referenced Substack article.

Creative anti-realism is at the root of such pernicious leftist nonsense as that chromosomally fixed sexual dimorphism in humans can be denied by a merely subjective process of ‘identifying’ as male or female which leads to the outrageous absurdity and injustice of biological males competing against women in their sporting  events and parading around naked in their locker rooms.

Mathematics, Artificial Intelligence, and Insanity

Kirwin Hampshire emits a cri de coeur in his The Dark Night of Mathematics. He comes across as slightly  unhinged with such remarks as :

I am going insane. During the last week or so LLMs have produced a number of counterexamples to significant long-standing conjectures.

and

I am suffering a profound spiritual crisis due to these developments. I have been screaming internally for days. It feels as though I am living inside of a nightmare.

His piece is nonetheless worth reading. What caught my attention in particular was this observation:

Everything said thus far still sidesteps the emotional core of the issue. Here it is:

There is something about mathematical discovery (progress, advancement, creation) which is vital to the spiritual, experiential quality of doing mathematics. The creation (or even the pursuit) of novel mathematics is one way that humans have historically accessed the ineffable and encountered the divine and mystical.

That admission may come as a surprise to some non-mathematicians. But I would be willing to bet that for any mathematician reading this, what I have said above is quite prosaic—whether or not it accords with their personal experience of mathematics. Here is a brief gesture at the full sweep of mathematical mystics and dreamers: Ramanujan, Grothendieck, Cantor, Pascal, Luzin, Leibniz and possibly you, or someone you know.

I am not a mathematician, but I know some advanced mathematics and have studied set theory, and some of the papers of Georg Cantor.  The spiritual thrust of Cantor’s work is undeniable and well-documented by Joseph Warren Dauben in Georg Cantor: His Mathematics and Philosophy of the Infinite (Harvard UP, 1979).

Islam and the Perils of Psychological Projection

Top o’ the Stack.

I have found that it is dangerous to assume that others are essentially like oneself.

Psychologists speak of projection. To project is to offload into others one’s own attitudes, beliefs, motivations, fears, emotions, desires, values, and the like. It is classified as a defense mechanism. To avoid confronting an unsavory attitude or trait in oneself, one projects it into another. Suppose one is stingy, considers stinginess an undesirable trait, but doesn’t want to own up to one’s stinginess. As a defense against the admission of one’s own stinginess, one projects it into others. “I’m not stingy; you’re stingy!”

I once had a superficial colleague who published a lot. He was motivated more by a neurotic need to advance himself socially and economically, a need based in low self-esteem, rather than by a drive to get at the truth or make a contribution to his subject. He was at some level aware that his motives were less than noble. Once, when he found out that I had published an article, he told me that my motive was to see my name in print. It was a classic case of projection: he could not understand me except as being driven by the same paltry motives that drove him. By projecting his motives into me, he warded off the awareness of their presence in him, or else excused their presence in him on the spurious ground that everyone has the same paltry motivations.

Most of the definitions of projection I have read imply that it is only undesirable attitudes, beliefs, and the like that are the contents of acts of projection. But it seems to me that the notion of projection could and perhaps should be widened to include desirable ones as well.

Read it all.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: The Perils of Pleasure Along the Lost Highway

The sounds of sentience

Oscar Wilde, De Profundis:

The gods had given me almost everything. But I let myself be lured into long spells of senseless and sensual ease. I amused myself with being a FLANEUR, a dandy, a man of fashion. I surrounded myself with the smaller natures and the meaner minds. I became the spendthrift of my own genius, and to waste an eternal youth gave me a curious joy. Tired of being on the heights, I deliberately went to the depths in the search for new sensation. What the paradox was to me in the sphere of thought, perversity became to me in the sphere of passion. Desire, at the end, was a malady, or a madness, or both. I grew careless of the lives of others. I took pleasure where it pleased me, and passed on. I forgot that every little action of the common day makes or unmakes character, and that therefore what one has done in the secret chamber one has some day to cry aloud on the housetop. I ceased to be lord over myself. I was no longer the captain of my soul, and did not know it. I allowed pleasure to dominate me. I ended in horrible disgrace. There is only one thing for me now, absolute humility.

Compare the words Plato puts in the mouth of Socrates in the Phaedo:

. . . every pleasure and pain has a kind of nail, and nails and pins her [the soul] to the body, and gives her a bodily nature, making her think that whatever the body says is true. (tr. F. J. Church St. 83)

From Oscar Wilde to Plato to Hank Williams here channeled hauntingly through Kurt Nilsen and Willie Nelson:

I’m a rollin’ stone all alone and lost
For a life of sin I have paid the cost
When I pass by all the people say
Just another guy on the lost highway

Just a deck of cards and a jug of wine
And a woman’s lies make a life like mine
On the day we met, I went astray
I started rollin’ down that lost highway

I was just a lad, nearly 22
Neither good nor bad, just a kid like you
And now I’m lost, too late to pray
Lord I paid the cost, on the lost highway

Now boys don’t start your ramblin’ ’round
On this road of sin are you sorrow bound
Take my advice or you’ll curse the day.
You started rollin’ down that lost highway.

Tom Petty version.

The Byrds, Life in Prison

Warren Zevon, Carmelita

Nina Simone, House of the Rising Sun

Doc Watson, Tom Dooley.  The Kingston Trio’s ‘collegiate folk’  version from 1958.

Merle Haggard, The Fugitive

Marty Robbins, Devil Woman

Sentience, Sensors, and AI

Are AI engines such as Claude sentient? My considered opinion, tentatively held, is that they are not. But it all depends on what the word means.  Malcolm Pollack in an e-mail writes,

I was focusing on “sentient” because it’s a slippery concept, and often tossed around as if it means the same thing as “conscious”. Etymologically (from Latin “sensus”) it just means “feel,” or “perceive”, and obviously it shares that with our word “sense” — but computers, and even toasters, can have “sensors” too.

Malcolm is right that ‘sentient’ is often used interchangeably with ‘conscious.’  But is everything we refer to as a sensor sentient?  That is equivalent to asking: Is everything we call a sensor conscious? I say No.

The Moth and the Thermostat

What is the difference between an insect (a moth, say) which I take to be a sentient being, and a thermostat which  I take to be insentient?   Both are ‘sensors’ functionally speaking. The moth literally senses light and approaches it; the thermostat ‘senses’ an increase in temperature and “turns on’ the AC.   Note the  ‘raised eyebrows.’ It is AS IF the thermostat senses, when in reality it only ‘senses.’ Thermostats don’t feel heat and smoke detectors do not smell smoke. Of course, I have no objection to the use of ‘sensor’ to refer to thermostats, smoke detectors, circuit breakers, and so on, as long as you don’t fool yourself into thinking that these devices are literally conscious.  And I have no objection to talk of a thermostat ‘turning on’ the AC as long as you don’t fool yourself into thinking that the thermostat is an agent that decides to do something.

As I see it, a thermostat is a merely mechanical contraption and wholly insentient, strictly speaking, whereas a moth is a sentient being.

What I want to say about Claude and his ‘colleagues’ is that they are wholly insentient mechanical contraptions that differ from smoke detectors and thermostats only in that they are vastly more complex, and that this complexity does not build a “gradualist bridge” (to borrow a phrase from Daniel Dennett) from insentient/insensate matter to mind, the lowest level of mind being sentience.

Here is an argument.  (a) Only living things are sentient; (b) thermostats are not living things; ergo (c) thermostats are not sentient.

Now substitute ‘AI engine’ for ‘thermostat.’

This argument does not settle the matter: it is not ‘rationally coercive’ as I like to say. Malcolm could run it in reverse with no breach of logical propriety. He could, not unreasonably, deny (c) and then deny (a). I don’t expect that he or anyone will deny (b): thermostats and AIs don’t grow on trees, etc.

Your move, Malcolm.  Do you agree that a functioning (as opposed to malfunctioning) sensor needn’t be sentient (conscious)? If not why not?

Do you agree that there is a powerful, albeit non-coercive, case for denying that AIs are sentient?