Author: Bill Vallicella

Cat Blogging Friday: Alekhine and his Cat, Chess

Alekhine-catReuben Fine, The Psychology of the Chess Player (Dover 1967), p. 53:

In 1935, an international team tournament was held in Warsaw.  Alekhine played top board for France, of which he was a naturalized citizen.  However, on this trip he arrived at the Polish border without a passport.  When the officials asked him for his papers he replied: "I am Alekhine, chess champion of the world.  I have a cat called Chess.  I do not need papers." The matter had to be straightened out by the highest authorities.

Richard Swinburne’s Obituary of C. J. F. Williams

I wasn't aware of this until now.  Williams was London Ed's teacher.  I  battle the former via the latter. 

It came as news to me that Williams spent most of his life in a wheelchair.  It testifies to the possibilities of the human spirit that great adversity for some is no impediment to achievement.  I think also of Stephen Hawking, Charles Krauthammer, and FDR.

So stop whining and be grateful for what you have. You could be in a bloody wheelchair!

The Blogger Slacker Award

I hereby present the coveted MavPhil Blogger Slacker Award to Harriet Baber of The Enlightenment Project.  So far this year, she has uploaded a grand total of two posts.  In 2011 she managed to scribble only eleven.  That averages to less than one a month.  It's a pity: her cantankerous and idiosyncratic entries  make for enjoyable reading.

Other good blogs infrequently updated: Jim Ryan's Philosoblog and Franklin Mason's The Philosophical Midwife.

 

The Circularity of the Fressellian Account of Existence: Objections and Replies

Being in receipt of the following detailed comments on a central argument in a forthcoming paper, "Existence: Two Dogmas of Analysis," I am now deeply in London Ed's debt. In each numbered item, Ed more or less quotes me and then comments.  My responses are in blue.

 1. On the thin theory existence is a property of concepts only and cannot be sensibly predicated of individuals. The theory says that existence is the property of being instantiated, the property of having one or more instances.

This leaves out other versions of the thin theory, which do not mention concepts.

I thought I had made it  clear that 'concepts' is short for 'concepts, properties, propositional functions, and cognate items,' a phrase I used earlier in the paper.  To save words, I did not use the longer phrase.

2. An affirmative general existential such as '‘Horses exist'’ does not predicate existence of individual horses; it predicates instantiation of the concept horse.

Other versions would translate 'horses exist' as 'some things are horses'.

It does not make any difference for my purpose, which is to present a 'master argument' against every version of the Fressellian theory.  If the concept horse is instantiated, then of course something is a horse. And if something is a horse, then either the concept horse is instantiated, or the property of being a horse is exemplified, or the propositional function 'x is a horse is "sometimes true" (in Russell's phrase), or the word 'horse' applies to something, and so on for every cognate item you can think of.


Continue reading “The Circularity of the Fressellian Account of Existence: Objections and Replies”

Left-Wing Racial McCarthyism

Contemporary liberals hunt for racists the way McCarthyites in the '50s and early '60s hunted for commies, and they use their terms of opprobrium with the same sort of  irresponsible semantic latitude. You could say that they are extreme semantic latitudinarians when it comes to their verbal bludgeons of choice.  But a witch hunt by any other name is still a witch hunt.

Can an Irreligious Person Really be a Conservative?

John Derbyshire asks and answers his  question.

Q. Can an irreligious person really be a conservative?

A. Of course he can. The essence of modern conservatism is the belief in limited government power, respect for traditional values, patriotism, and strong national defense. The only one of those that gets snagged on religion is the second. But while traditional Western society has had a religious background, it has usually made room, at all points of the political spectrum, for unbelievers. Plenty of great names in the Western cultural tradition have been irreligious. Mark Twain, America's greatest writer, was a complete atheist; and one has one's doubts about Shakespeare. In any case, as Bill Buckley has pointed out somewhere, the key word is respect. Respect for traditional values implies respect for religious belief, even if you don't share it. The really interesting question is not "Can an irreligious person be a conservative," but "Can a militant God-hater be a conservative?"

I'd go a bit further than that. Conservatism, including (including especially, I think) religious conservatism, has at its core an acceptance of, a respect for, human nature. We conservatives are the people who see humanity plain, or strive to, and who wish to keep our society in harmony with what we see. Paul Johnson has noted how leftists always used to talk about building socialism. Capitalism doesn't require building. It's just what happens if you leave people alone. It arises, in short, from human nature, and only needs harmonizing under some mild, reasonable, laws and customary restraints. You don't have to build it by forging a New Capitalist Man, or anything like that.

Leaving people alone, I like. Capitalism, I like. Social harmony, I like. Human nature . . . Well, it has its unappealing side. I don't count religious feeling as necessarily on that side, though; and I do count religious feeling — stronger in some individuals, weaker in others, altogether absent in a few — a key component of the human personality at large. To be respected ipso facto.

Exactly right.

Praise and Supererogation

Here is a little argument in support of the category of supererogatory actions:

1. Some good actions are praiseworthy.
2. No obligatory actions are praiseworthy.
—
3. Some good actions are not obligatory.

Since by definition a supererogatory action is one that is good but not obligatory, the above amounts to an argument for supererogatory actions. The argument is valid and the first premise self-evident. So the soundness of the argument rides on the second premise. Here, I suppose, an appeal to intuition is unavoidable.

Can Theistic Arguments Deliver More Than Plausibility?

James N. Anderson writes,

. . . a good theistic argument doesn’t have to be irrefutable, but surely we should expect the conclusions of our arguments to rise above the level of mere plausibility. If indeed the heavens declare the glory of God (Ps. 19:1), and God’s existence can be “clearly perceived” from the creation (Rom. 1:20), it would appear that God has given humans something stronger than “clues” about his existence.

I tend to differ with Professor Anderson on this point.  I don't believe theistic arguments can deliver more than plausibility. Here below we are pretty much in the dark.  Just as our wills are weak and our hearts divided by disordered and inordinate loves, our minds are clouded.  The existence of God is not a plain fact, but the infirmity of reason is.  The believer hopes that light will dawn, fitfully and partially in  this life, and more fully if not completely in the next.  But he doesn't know this, nor can he prove it.  That there is Divine Light remains a matter of faith, hope, and yearning.  There is light enough in this life to render rational our faith, hope, and yearning.  But there is also darkness enough to render rational doubt and perhaps despair.  The individual must decide what he will believe and how he will live.  He remains free and at risk of being wrong.  There are no compelling arguments one way or the other when it comes to God and the soul. 

If a black cat jumps on my lap in a well-lit room, I have no doxastic 'wiggle room' as to whether a cat is on my lap.  It's not the same with God.  I don't believe God's existence can be "clearly perceived" from the existence or order of the natural world.  What is "clearly perceived" leaves me quite a lot of doxastic wiggle room.

I develop this thought in Is There Any Excuse for Unbelief?  Romans 1: 18-20.

“I Have Nothing to Hide”

This is an entry from the old blog, first posted 28 December 2005.  It makes an important point worth repeating. 

………….. 

In an age of terrorism, enhanced security measures are reasonable (See Liberty and Security) But in response to increased government surveillance and the civil-libertarian objections thereto, far too many people are repeating the stock phrase, "I have nothing to hide."

What they mean is that, since they are innocent of any crime, they have nothing to hide and nothing to fear, and so there cannot be any reasonable objection to removing standard protections. But these   people are making a false assumption. They are assuming that the agents of the state will always behave properly, an assumption that is spectacularly false.

Most of the state's agents will behave properly most of  the time, but there are plenty of rogue agents who will abuse their authority for all sorts of reasons. The O'Reilly Factor has been following a case in which an elderly black gentleman sauntering down a street in New Orlean's French Quarter was set upon by cops who proceeded to use his head as a punching bag. The video clip showed the poor guy's head bouncing off a brick wall from the blows. It looked as if the thuggish cops had found an opportunity to brutalize a fellow human being under cover of law, and were taking it. And that is just one minor incident.

We conservatives are law-and-order types.  One of the reasons we loathe contemporary liberals is because of their casual attitude toward criminal behavior.  But our support for law and order is tempered by a healthy skepticism about the state and its agents.  This is one of the reasons why we advocate limited government and Second Amendment rights. 

As conservatives know, power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. We have no illusions about human nature such as are cherished by liberals in their Rousseauean innocence.  Give a man a badge and a gun and the power will go to his head. And mutatis mutandis for anyone with any kind of authority over anyone. This is the main reason why checks on government power are essential.

The trick is to avoid the absurdities of the ACLU-extremists while also avoiding the extremism of the "I have nothing to hide" types who are willing to sell their birthright for a mess of secure pottage.

Companion post: Cops: A Necessary Evil

Elizabeth Warren: Undocumented Injun

Elizabeth 'Fauxcahontas' Warren, Cherokee maiden, diversity queen of the Harvard Lore Law School, and author of the cookbook Pow Wow Chow, is being deservedly and diversely raked over the coals.  Howie Carr, White and Wrong.  NRO, Paleface.  Michael Barone, Racial Preferences: Unfair and Ridiculous. Excerpt:

Let's assume the 1894 document is accurate. That makes Warren one-thirty-second Native American. George Zimmerman, the Florida accused murderer, had a black grandmother. That makes him a quarter black, four times as black as Warren is Indian, though The New York Times describes him as a "white Hispanic."

In the upside-down world of the liberal, the 'white Hispanic' George Zimmerman is transmogrified into a redneck and the lily-white Elizabeth Warren into a redskin.

The Left's diversity fetishism is so preternaturally boneheaded that one has to wonder whether calm critique has any place at all in responses to it.  But being somewhat naive, I have been known to try rational persuasion.  See Diversity and the Quota Mentality for one example.

The Problems of Order and Unity and Their Difference

Last Thursday, Steven N. and I had a very enjoyable three-hour conversation with ASU philosophy emeritus Ted Guleserian on Tempe's Mill Avenue.  We covered a lot of ground, but the most focused part of the discussion concerned the subject matter of this post.  If I understood Guleserian correctly, he was questioning whether there is any such problem as the problem of the unity of a fact.  I maintained that there is such a problem and that it is distinct from the problem of order.

…………….

The problem of order arises for relational facts and relational propositions in which there is a relation R that is either asymmetrical or nonsymmetrical. If dyadic R is asymmetrical, and x stands in R to y, then it follows that y does not stand in R to x. For example, greater than and taller than are asymmetrical relations. If I am taller than you, then you are not taller than me. If dyadic R is nonsymmetrical, and x stands in R to y, then it does not follow, though it may be the case, that y stands in R to x. For example, loves and hates are nonsymmetrical relations. If I love you, it does not follow that you love me, nor does it follow that you do not love me. But if I weigh the same as you, then you weigh the same as me: 'weigh the same as' picks out a symmetrical relation.

Well, suppose R is either asymmetrical or nonsymmetrical. Then the relational facts Rab and Rba will be distinct. For example, Al's loving Bill, and Bill's loving Al are distinct facts. A fact is a complex. Now the following principle seems well-nigh self-evident:

   P. If two complexes, K1 and K2, differ numerically, then there exists
   a constituent C such that C is an element of K1 but not of K2, or vice
   versa.

In other words, if two complexes differ, then they differ in a constituent. 'Complex' is intended quite broadly. Mathematical sets are complexes and it is clear that they satisfy the principle. There cannot be two sets that have all the same members.  Ditto for mereological sums.

Now if Rab and Rba are distinct, then, by principle (P), they must differ in a constituent. But they seem to have all the same constituents. Both consist of a, b, and R, and if you think there must also be a triadic nexus of exemplification present in the fact, then that item too is common to both. And if you think there is a benign infinite regress of exemplification nexuses in the fact, then those items too are common to both. Since both facts have all the same constituents, what is the ontological ground of the numerical difference of the two facts?  What makes them different?  The question is not whether they differ; it is obvious that they do.  The question concerns the ground of their difference.  What explains their difference?  Of course, I am not asking for an explanation in terms of empirical causes.  Consider {1, 2} and {1, 2, 3}.  What is the ontological ground of the difference of these two sets?  It would be a poor answer to say that they just differ, that their difference is a factum brutum.  The thing to say is that they differ in virtue of one set's having a member the other doesn't have.  When I say that 3 makes the difference between the two sets I am obviously not giving a causal explanation.  I am specifying a factor in reality that 'makes' the two entities numerically different.

So what, if anything, is the ontological ground of the difference between aRb and bRa when R is either asymmetrical or nonsymmetrical?  This, I take it,  the problem of order, or, in the jargon of Gustav Bergmann, the problem of providing an 'assay' of order.  It may be that no assay is possible.  It may be that the difference is a brute difference.  But that cannot be assumed at the outset.

It seems to me that the problem of unity is different although related.  What is the difference between the fact aRb and the set or sum of its constituents?  If a contingently stands in R to b, then it is possible that a, R, and b all exist without forming a relational fact.  So what is the difference between aRb and {a, R, b}?  Here we have two complexes that share all their constituents,  but they are clearly different complexes: one is a fact while the other is not.  What is the ground of fact-unity, that peculiar form of unity found in facts but not it other types of complex?

Suppose you deny that they share all constituents.  Suppose you maintain that the fact includes a triadic exemplification nexus that is not present in the set.  I will then re-formulate the problem as follows.  What is the difference between aRb and {a, R, NEX, }?

The problem of order is different from the problem of unity. The latter is the problem of accounting for the peculiar unity of those complexes that attract such properties as truth, falsity, and obtaining. For some of these complexes, no problem of order arises. For example, a monadic fact of the form, a's being F, precisely because it is nonrelational does not give rise to any problem of order. Since the problem of unity can arise in cases where the problem of order does not arise, the two problems are distinct.

The unity problem is the more fundamental of the two. The question as to the ground of the difference of a fact and the mere collection of its consituents is more fundamental than the question as to the ground of the difference between two already constituted facts which appear to share all their constituents.

Related:  Is the Difference Between a Fact and its Constituents a Brute Difference?

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Performers Who Ditched Their Italian Surnames, Part I

Before Bobby Darin became Bobby Darin he rejoiced under the name, Walden Robert Cassotto.  Dream Lover.  18 Yellow Roses. You're the Reason I'm Living.

Bobby Rydell started out Robert Ridarelli.  Forget Him.  Volare. "Letsa fly . . . ."

No, his name wasn't Dino Martino, it was Dino Paul Crocetti.  Schmaltzy as it is, That's Amore captures the Nagelian what-it's-like of being in love.  Houston.

Concetta Rosa Maria Franconero, better known as Connie Francis. Never on Sunday.  I prefer the understated Melina Mercouri version.

Timoteo Aurro = Timi Yuro.  When I first heard her back in the day, I thought she was black.  What a voice!  What's the Matter, Baby?  Her signature number: Hurt.

Laura traded in 'Nigro' for Nyro.'  Wedding Bell Blues. And When I Die.

Asserting and Arguing: Analysis of an Example and Response to Novak

In my earlier posts on this topic here and here I did not analyze an example.  I make good that deficit now. 

Suppose a person asserts that abortion is morally wrong.  Insofar forth, a bare assertion which is likely  to elicit the bare counter-assertion, 'Abortion is not morally wrong.'  What can be gratuitously asserted may be gratuitously denied without breach of logical propriety, a maxim long enshrined in the Latin tag Quod gratis asseritur, gratis negatur.  So one reasonably demands arguments from those who make assertions.  Here is one:

Infanticide is morally wrong
There is no morally relevant difference between abortion and infanticide
Ergo
Abortion is morally wrong.

Someone who forwards this argument in a concrete dialectical  situation in which he is attempting to persuade himself or another asserts the premises and in so doing provides reasons for accepting the conclusion. This goes some distance toward removing the gratuitousness of the conclusion.  But what about the premises?  If they are mere assertions, then the conclusion, though proximately non-gratuitous (because supported by reasons), is not ultimately non-gratuitous (because no support has been provided for the premises).

Of course, it is better to give the above argument than merely to assert its conclusion.  The point of the original post, however, is that one has not escaped from the realm of assertion by giving an argument.  And this for the simple reason that (a) arguments have premises, and (b) arguments that do dialectical work must have one or more asserted premises, the assertions being made by the person forwarding the argument with the intention of rationally persuading himself or another of something.

Our old friend Lukas Novak proposes a counterexample to (b): the reductio ad absurdum (RAA)argument.  If I understand him, what Novak is proposing is that some such arguments can be used to rationally justify the assertion of the conclusion without any of the premises being asserted by the producer of the argument.  Suppose argument A with conclusion C has premises P1, P2, P3.  Suppose further that the premise set entails a contradiction. We may then validly conclude and indeed assert that either P1 is not true or P2 is not true or P3 is not true.  We may in other words make a disjunctive assertion, an assertion the content of which is a disjunctive proposition. And this without having asserted P1 or P2 or P3. What we have, then, is an argument with an asserted conclusion but no asserted promises.

I think Professor Novak is technically correct except that the sort of RAA argument he describes is not very interesting. Suppose the asserted conclusion is this: Either the null set is not empty, or the null set is not a set, or the Axiom of Extensionality does not hold, or the null set is not unique.  Who would want to assert that disjunctive monstrosity?  An interesting RAA argument with this subject matter would establish the uniqueness of the null set on the basis of several asserted premises and one unasserted premise, namely, The null set is not unique, the premise assumed for reductio.

So I stick to my guns: 'real life' arguments that do dialectical work must have one or more asserted premises. Novak's comment did, however, give me the insight that not every premise of a 'real life' dialectically efficacious argument must be asserted.

Now back to the abortion argument.  My point, again, is that providing even a sound argument for a conclusion — and I would say that the above argument is sound, i.e., valid in point of logical form and having true premises — does not free one from the need to  make assertions.  For example, one has to assert that infanticide is morally wrong.  But if no ground or grounds can be given for this assertion, then the assertion is gratuitous.  To remove the gratuitousness one can give a further argument:  The killing of innocent human beings is morally wrong; (human) infants are innocent human beings; ergo, etc.  The first premise in this second argument is again an assertion,  and so on.

Eventually we come to assertions that cannot be argued. That is not to say that these assertions lack support.  They are perhaps grounded in objective self-evidence.

Note that I am not endorsing what is sometimes called the Münchhausen trilemma, also and perhaps better known as  Agrippa's Trilemma, according to which a putative justification either

   a. Begets an infinite regress, or
   b. Moves in a circle, or
   c. Ends in dogmatism, e.g., in an appeal to self-evidence that can only be subjective, or in an appeal to authority.

All I am maintaining — and to some this may sound trivial — is that every real-life argument that does dialectical work must have one or more asserted premises.   And so while argument is in general superior to bare assertion, argument does not free us of the need to make assertions.  I insist on this so that we do not make the mistake of overvaluing argumentation.

To put it aphoristically, the mind's discursivity needs for its nourishment intuitive inputs that must be affirmed but cannot be discursively justified.