When Philosophical Questions Grow Up Do They Leave Home? Some Bad Arguments of Lawrence Krauss Exposed

A tip of the hat to Professor Joel Hunter for referring me to a recent discussion between philosopher Julian Baggini and physicist Lawrence Krauss. We have come to expect shoddy scientistic reasoning from Professor Krauss (see here) and our expectation is duly fulfilled on this occasion as on the others.

The issue under debate is whether there are any answerable questions in which philosophy has proprietary rights.  Are there any questions that are specifically philosophical and thus beyond the purview of the sciences?  Or are all answerable questions scientific questions?  For Krauss, ". . . all the answerable ones  end up moving into the domain of empirical knowledge, aka science."  When philosophical questions "grow up, they leave home."

Moral (ethical) questions have traditionally belonged to philosophy.  If Krauss and his scientistic brethren are right, however, these questions, if answerable, will be answered empirically: "science provides the basis for moral decisions . . . ."  Baggini makes the expected response:

My contention is that the chief philosophical questions are those that grow up without leaving home, important questions that remain unanswered when all the facts are in. Moral questions are the prime example. No factual discovery could ever settle a question of right or wrong. But that does not mean that moral questions are empty questions or pseudo-questions.

Baggini's is a stock response but none the worse for that.  Krauss' rejoinder is entirely lame:

Take homosexuality, for example. Iron age scriptures might argue that homosexuality is "wrong", but scientific discoveries about the frequency of homosexual behaviour in a variety of species tell us that it is completely natural in a rather fixed fraction of populations and that it has no apparent negative evolutionary impacts. This surely tells us that it is biologically based, not harmful and not innately "wrong".

Here we observe once again the patented Kraussian 'bait and switch' dialectical ploy.  Note the scare quotes around 'wrong.'  Krauss  is switching from the relevant normative sense of the word to an irrelevant nonnormative sense.  That is the same type of trick  he pulled with respect to the Leibnizian question why there is something rather than nothing.  He baited us with a promise to answer the Leibnizian question but all he did was switch from the standard meaning of 'nothing' to a special meaning all his own according to which nothing is something.  So instead of answering the question he baited us with — the old Leibniz question — he substituted a different physically tractable question and then either stupidly or dishonestly passed off the answer to the physically tractable question as the answer to the philosophical question.

He is doing the same thing with the homosexuality question.  He is equivocating on 'right' and 'wrong' as between nonnormative and normative senses of the term.  Avoid that confusion and you will be able to see that a practice cannot be shown to be morally acceptable by showing that the practice is engaged in.  Slavery and ethnic cleansing are practices which have proven to be be very effective by nonnormative criteria.  World War II in the Pacific was ended by the nuclear slaughter of noncombatants.  Questions about moral acceptability and unacceptability cut perpendicular to questions about effectiveness, survival value and the like.

There is also this Kraussian gem:

. . . that many moral convictions vary from society to society means that they are learned and, therefore, the province of psychology. Others are more universal and are, therefore, hard-wired – a matter of neurobiology. A retreat to moral judgment too often assumes some sort of illusionary belief in free will which I think is naive.

Three non sequiturs in two sentences. That's quite a trick!

A. Yes, moral convictions vary from society to society, and yes, they are learned.  But Krauss confuses moral convictions as facts (which belong to psychology and sociology) with the content of moral convictions.  For example, I am convinced that rape is morally wrong.  My being so convinced is a psychological fact about me.  It is an empirical fact and can be studied like any empirical fact.  We can ask how I cam to hold the conviction.  But my being convinced is distinct from the content of the conviction which  is expressible in the sentence 'Rape is morally wrong.'  That sentence says nothing about me or about any agent or about the psychological state of any agent.   Confusing convictions and their contents, Krauss wrongly infers that moral questions are in the province of psychology as an empirical science when all he is entitled to conclude is that things like the incidence, distribution, and causes  of moral beliefs belong in the province of psychology, sociology and related disciplines.

B.  With respect to universal moral beliefs, Krauss falls into the same confusion.  He confuses the moral belief or conviction qua psychological fact about an agent with its content.  Even if my being convinced that X is morally wrong falls within neurobiology, because the being convinced is a state of brain, the content doesn't.  A further problem with what he is saying is that moral beliefs cannot be identical to neural states.  It is obvious that my moral convictions, as facts, belong to psychology; but it is the exact opposite of obvious that some of my moral convictions  — the universal ones — belong to neurobiology.  No doubt they have neurobiological correlates, but correlation is not identity.

C.   Krauss thinks that the belief in free will is "illusionary."  This is a nonsensical view shared by other scientistic types such as Jerry Coyne.  ( See here.) It is also difficult to square with Krauss' own apparent belief in free will: "We have an intellect and can therefore override various other biological tendencies in the name of social harmony."  So, holding social harmony to be a value we freely restrain ourselves and override out biological tendencies when we get the urge to commit rape.  The man cannot see that his theory is inconsistent with the course of action he is recommending.

There is a bit more to the Krauss-Baggini discussion, but the quality is so low that I won't waste any more time on it. 

Too Many Lawyers in Government, Not Enough Doctors

Negatively, physicians are not lawyers.  Positively, they are scientifically trained without being mere theoreticians: they diagnose, they cut, they sew.  They are the plumbers and the auto mechanics of the mortal coil.  They grapple at close quarters with recalcitrant matter.  They do so fearlessly while lawyers watch, ready to pounce.    They don't just talk, write, and argue.  Not that the latter aren't important; they are.  But balance is also important.

We need more doctors, engineers, and businessmen in government — and fewer lawyers.  And a few working stiffs, too.  There are truck drivers and pipe fitters who could do the job.  How can a government top-heavy with lawyers be representative of the folks?

Lawyers are especially overrepresented in the Democrat Party as Michael Medved observes:

By re-nominating Obama and Biden, the Democrats have selected only attorneys for all six of the most recent places on national tickets, cementing their status as the party of lawyers. Meanwhile, none of the last 8 Republicans nominated for president or vice president has been a practicing attorney.

Though Romney won a law degree in a joint program along with his Harvard MBA, he never joined the legal profession. All told, 14 of the last 18 places on Democratic national tickets since 1980 have gone to attorneys, and if Al Gore had finished law school at Vanderbilt before running for Congress, that would have been 17 of 18. The domination of the party by lawyers clearly connects to its propensity to address every problem with legal solutions—legislation, regulations, and law suits—rather than private sector, business initiatives.

None of the above is lawyer bashing.  We need lawyers if we are to have a legal system and the rule of law.  (And to defend ourselves against lawyers.) But lawyers, like liberals, have given themselves a bad name by their bad behavior.  They are too often the sophists of the modern world.  Remember the sophists of the ancient world? They knew how to make the weaker argument appear the stronger.

Martin Luther once vented his misology via "Reason is a whore."  But nowadays, when whores are sex workers, the Lutheran pronunciamento has lost its sting much as the oldest profession has lost its opprobrium. 

Perhaps in its stead we should put: "Reason is a lawyer."

More Fun With Existential Generalization

Intuitively, if something is identical to Venus, it follows that something is identical to something.  In the notation of MPL, the following is a correct application of the inference rule, Existential Generalization (EG):

1. (∃x)(x = Venus)
2. (∃y)(∃x)(x = y) 1, EG

(1) is contingently true: true, but possibly false.  (2), however, is necessarily true.  Ought we find this puzzling?  That is one question.  Now consider the negative existential, 'Vulcan does not exist.' 

3. ~(∃x)( x = Vulcan)
4. (∃y)~(∃x)(x = y) 3, EG

(3) is contingently true while (4) is a logical contradiction, hence necessarily false.  The inference is obviously invalid, having taken us from truth to falsehood.  What went wrong? 

Diagnosis A: "You can't existentially generalize on a vacuous term, and 'Vulcan' is a vacuous term."

The problem with this diagnosis is that whether a term is vacuous or not is an extralogical (extrasyntactic) question.  Let 'a' be an arbitrary constant, and thus neither a place-holder nor a variable.  Now if we substitute 'a' for 'Vulcan' we get:

3* ~(∃x)( x = a)
4. (∃y)~(∃x)(x = y) 3*, EG

The problem with this inference is with the conclusion: we don't know whether 'a' is vacuous or not.  So I suggest

Diagnosis B:  Singular existentials cannot be translated using the identity sign as in (1) and (3).  This fact, pace van Inwagen, forces us to beat a retreat to the second-level analysis.  We have to analyze 'Venus exists' in terms of

5. (∃x)(Vx)

where 'V' is a predicate constant standing for the haecceity property, Venusity.  Accordingly, what (5) says is that Venusity is instantiated.  Similarly, 'Vulcan does not exist' has to be interpreted as saying that Vulcanity is not instantiated. Thus

6. ~(∃x)(Wx)

where 'W' is a predicate constant denoting Vulcanity.

It is worth noting that we can existentially generalize (6) without reaching the absurdity of (4) by shifting to second-order logic and quantifying over properties:

7. (∃P)~(∃x)Px.

That says that some property is such that it is not instantiated.  There is nothing self-contradictory about (7).

But of course beating a retreat to the second-level analysis  brings back the old problem of haecceities.  Not to mention the circularity problem. 

The thin theory is 'cooked' no matter how you twist and turn.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Torch Songs

"A torch song is a sentimental love song, typically one in which the singer laments an unrequited or lost love, where one party is either oblivious to the existence of the other, or where one party has moved on." (Wikipedia)

Sarah Vaughn, Broken-Hearted Melody.  I loved this song when I was nine and I love it today.  The guitar fills are just right: simple, tasteful and unobtrusive.

Ketty Lester, Love Letters

Roy Orbison, In Dreams

Lenny Welch, Since I Fell for You

Timi Yuro, Hurt

Billie Holliday, The Very Thought of You

Etta James, At Last

Gogi Grant, The Wayward Wind (1956).  Made the #1 Billboard position.  The tune has haunted me since I was six years old. 

Toni Fisher, The Big Hurt (1959).  Made the Billboard #3 slot.  The first verse hints at the origin of 'torch song':

Now it begins,
now that you've gone
Needles and pins, twilight till dawn
Watching that
clock till you return
Lighting that torch and watching it burn.

Is this the first recording to use a phase shifter?  Pretty far-out for the 'fifties.  While we're on the topic
of special effects, the first fuzz tone occurs as far as I know in Marty Robbins' Don't Worry About Me (1961).

“Possible Tornado Touches Down in Brooklyn and Queens”

Story here.  "Only a possible tornado?  It is the actual ones that worry me." 

"Did you hear about Jack? He died of an apparent heart attack."  "Wow, hs heart must have been in terrible condition if all it took was an apparent heart attack to do him in."

Bad jokes, no doubt, but they do get us thinking about the various senses of 'possible' and 'apparent.'  How many of each are there?

 

Eastwood on His ‘Empty Chair’ Performance at the Republican National Convention

Clint-obama-chairHere is my take on Eastwood's unscripted talk.  Here is Eastwood's. 

“President Obama is the greatest hoax ever perpetrated on the American people,” Eastwood told The Pine Cone this week. “Romney and Ryan would do a much better job running the country, and that’s what everybody needs to know. I may have irritated a lot of the lefties, but I was aiming for people in the middle.”

Empty Chair, Empty Suit, Empty Speech

Empty-suit2And the speech was indeed empty.  But that is par for the course for Dems.  Bare of content, full of bromides, vacuity piled upon vacuity. Gaseous, nebulous, nugatory.

But the mendacity of it all is that behind the flatulent phrases is a hard Left agenda that they will not avow but that comes out  when their guard is down.

"You didn't build that!"

"Government is the only thing we all belong to."

If that isn't a totalitarian formula completely at odds with traditional American values, what would be?

And there you have the modern Democrat Party: totalitarianism wrapped in bullshit.

 

 

Dems: “Government is the Only Thing We All Belong To”

Some say that there is no real difference between the two major parties in the USA, the Republicans and the Democrats.  The claim is breathtakingly false for so many reasons.  The latest example of difference is provided by   this DNC video.   John Hayward's response is spot on:

Even this benign-sounding apologia for “government is the only thing we all belong to” is incredibly wrong-headed.  We most certainly do not belong to the government.  We are all members of the electorate, which is a very different thing.  Each of us lives beneath several distinct governments – federal, state, city – empowered to protect our rights, not act as the almighty executor of some “collective will” that exists only in the totalitarian fantasies of liberals.  There are very few areas of government action that command anything like overwhelming majority support from Americans, let alone nearly unanimous approval.

To which I add:

There are two extremes to avoid, the libertarian and the liberal. Libertarians often say that the government can do nothing right, and that the solution is to privatize everything including the National Parks. Both halves of that assertion are patent nonsense. It is equal but opposite nonsense to think that Big Government will solve all our problems. Ronald Reagan had it right: "A government big enough to give you everything you want is powerful enough to take everything you have."

The government is not us as liberals like to say. It is an entity over against most of us run by a relatively small number of us. Among the latter are some decent people but also plenty of power-hungry scoundrels, for whom a government position is a hustle like any hustle. Government, like any entity, likes power and likes to expand its power, and can be counted on to come up with plenty of rationalizations for the maintenance and  extension of its power. It must be kept in check by us, just as big corporations need to be kept in check by government regulators.

If you value liberty you must cultivate a healthy skepticism about government.  To do so is not anti-government.  Too many leftists love to slander us by saying that we are anti-government.  It is a lie and they know it.  They are not so stupid as not to know that to be for limited government is to be for government.

From a logical point of view, the ‘Government is us’ nonsense appears to be a pars pro toto fallacy: one identifies a proper part (the governing) with the whole of which it is a proper part (the governed).

The Aporetics of Existence and Self-Identity

Andrew B. made some powerful objections to a recent existence post.  His remarks suggest the following argument:

Argument A

1. Existence is self-identity
2. My existence is contingent:  (∃x)(x = I) & Poss ~(∃x) (x = I)
Therefore
3. My self-identity is contingent:  I = I & Poss ~ (I = I)

Argument A may be supplemented by the following consideration.  Since I am contingent, there are possible worlds in which I do not exist.  Not being in those worlds, I cannot have properties in them, including the property of self-identity. So it is not the case that I am necessarily self-identical; I am self-identical only in those worlds in which I exist, which is to say: I am contingently self-identical.  I am self-identical in some but not all worlds.

The argument can be rationally resisted. 

Consider a possible world w in which I do not exist.  In w, the proposition expressed by an utterance by me of 'I am not self-identical' is true.  But if it is true in w, then the proposition exists in w.  Now if the proposition exists in w, then so do its constituents.  On a Russellian view of propositions, I am one of the proposition's  constituents.  So for the proposition  *I am not self-identical* to be true in w, I must exist in w.  But if I exist in w, then of course I am self-identical in w, and the proposition is false in w.  But the same goes for every world in which I do not exist.  It follows that I am self-identical in every world and I exist in every world.

Of course, one needn't take a Russellian line on propositions.  One could take a Fregean view according to which propositions about me do not have me as a constituent but an abstract representative of me, a sense or mode of presentation.  But the first-person singular pronoun 'I' has the peculiarity that it cannot be replaced salva significatione by any description; so even if there is an abstract representative of me in the Fregean proposition expressed by my utterance of  'I am not self-identical,' there still has to be a referent of the representative external to the proposition.  So I have to exist in w for the proposition *I am not self-identical* to be true in w.  But if I exist in w then I am self-identical in w.  This in turn implies that the proposition is not true.  

The cognoscenti will appreciate that what I have been doing in a rough and dirty way is reproducing some of the thoughts in Timothy Williamson's paper Necessary Existents.  I am doing so to show that Argument A is not convincing.  Making use of materials from Williamson's paper, we can 'throw Argument A into reverse':

Argument B

1. Existence is self-identity
~3. My self-identity is necessary: Nec (I = I)
Therefore
~2. My existence is necessary.

In point of validity, there is nothing to choose between A and B: both are valid.  And both, I submit, have counterintuitive conclusions.  It seems to me that the arguments cancel each other out.  So I propose that we think very skeptically about the common premise that existence is self-identity, and the Quinean thin theory that commits us to it. 

The Modal Aporetics of Existential Generalization

Consider this trio of propositions:

1. '~(∃x)(x = Venus)' is possibly true.

2. Existential Generalization warrants the inference of '(∃y)~(∃x)(x = y)' from  '~(∃x)(x = Venus).'

3. '(∃y)~(∃x)(x = y)' is logically self-contradictory, hence necessarily false.

Solve the triad, either by showing that the limbs are (collectively) logically consistent or by rejecting one or more of the limbs.

Living in the Past: Is That Why You are Still a Dem?

To understand a person, it helps to consider what the world was like when the person was twenty years old. At twenty, give or take five years, the music of the day, the politics of the day, the language, mores, fashions, economic conditions and whatnot of the day make a very deep impression. It is an impression that lasts through life and functions as a sort of benchmark for the evaluation of what comes after, but also as a distorting lense that makes it difficult to see what is happening now. 



The foregoing insight may help us understand why people remain in the Democrat Party. People born in the 'twenties are many of them still living in the 'forties. For them the Democrat Party is the party of FDR. They haven't noticed the changes, or haven't wanted to notice the changes. They haven't noticed that their interests are no longer served by the party of this name. Or perhaps they are just attached to the label, or in the grip of misplaced piety: they are attached to a family tradition. "My pappy was a Democrat and my grandpappy afore him was a Democrat; we McCoy's have always been Democrats, and we don't see no reason to change now."

People born in the early 'forties are many of them still living in the early 'sixties, those heady days of Camelot when the young and vigorous Jack Kennedy and his charming wife occupied the White House, and society was all in a ferment with necessary reforms being made or about to be made. They thrilled to Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind" and other anthems of the Civil Rights movement. Those worthy battles were fought, and they were won, and progress was made.  But soon enough the rot set in: the legitimate struggle for civil rights gave way to affirmative action as we now know it, which involves  reverse discrimination, race-norming, preferential hiring, minority set-asides.  The noble Martin Luther King, Jr. was soon followed by such race-hustlers as Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton who cleverly cashed in on white liberal guilt.    People were precisely not judged by "the content of their character" but by the color of their skin.  Equality of opportunity was confused with equality of outcome; the quota mentality replaced the concern for justice.  Justice gave way to the unconcept 'social justice' which either means nothing or is code for socialism.

In the '60s , Democrats were progressive and liberal in respectable senses of these terms. But it is no longer the 'sixties, and if JFK were alive today and held the views he held then, he would be classed with conservatives. If you are living in the past, however, fixated on the glory days of youth, you may have missed the changes. You may not have noticed the difference between Jack and Teddy, the difference a brother can make.

So if you are still a Dem, you need to ask yourself: Are you living in the past?  Watching Pat Cadell on the Glenn Beck show a while back I had to scratch my head.  He was agreeing with Beck, and yet he remains a Dem. Is he just attached to the name?  When the Dems become indistinguishable from the CPUSA will he still call himself a Dem?

You superannuated  farts who are still Dems — tune into the Democratic National Convention going on this week in Charlotte.  Listen carefully to the proceedings.  Is that the stuff you believe in?