Author: Bill Vallicella

Burden of Proof: Something to Avoid?

Joshua Orsak e-mails:

I've been following closely your recent discussions on the burden of proof in philosophy, as its been a particular interest of mine ever since I first read Alvin Plantinga. I've been linking to your posts on the matter on my facebook page. Your recent post reminded me vaguely of something my friend Andrew Jeffery once told me. He told me that a philosopher should want the burden of proof in any discussion, he should want the opportunity to expound in detail why he believes  what he believes. He said to me, roughly, 'if someone gives you the burden of proof for a mile, pick it up and carry it two'. That has stayed with me ever since. I thought it was worth sharing with you.
James Cargile expresses a similar thought:
In speaking of the 'burden of proof', we may tend to assume it is something to avoid. But burdens can be of enormous value.  Think of the people who long to have the 'burden' of caring for thier very own child, or otherwise have 'dependents' who rely on them and respond with love to their supportive care.  There is many a lonely philosopher who would love to be burdened with proving something, perhaps to a huge and critical audience, hanging on each step in his argument.  Many would gladly drop their present position and espouse its opposite, if only this would arouse a chorus of 'Prove it! Prove it!'. 'Very well' they would calmly say, stepping with dignity to the podium. ("On the Burden of Proof," Philosophy, vol. 72, no. 279, January 1997, p. 75.)

The Upside of the Downturn

Written a few years ago, this entry from the old blog merits reposting.

As the economy stumbles, CD rates tumble, the stock market falters,  gas prices soar, and foreclosures mount, I look at the bright side: less development, fewer sales of State Trust Lands, less destruction of desert and wildlife habitat. A temporary respite from the hyperkinetic rush to a universal pave-over. And less mindless zipping around in gas guzzling behemoths. I don't reckon there is much of a market for Escalades and Hummers these days. Out on U.S. 60 the other day the traffic seemed surprisingly light. People are feeling the pinch of higher gas prices. Good. Maybe they will learn to cultivate local pleasures, those of hearth and home. Maybe they will learn to slow down and walk. Or ride a bike.

Call me a green conservative. I have no patience with libertarians and other open-borders types who think economic considerations trump all others. To sacrifice quality of life and natural beauty to economic expansion makes little sense to me. But don't confuse me with eco-extremists like Dave Foreman who, in a book of his I read some years back, claimed that a bear and a human being have the same value.  That is an equal but opposite form of moral and intellectual idiocy.

And then you have the Sierra Club, the members of which are mostly squishy bien-pensant latte liberals who refuse to work with Jim Gilchrist and the Minuteman Project because they stupidly think that   anyone who insists on the enforcement of immigration laws is a 'racist' and a 'xenophobe.'

So it's a mess and I for one see little point in getting my blood pressure up over it. You've got Republicans who like cheap labor and  Democrats who are hoping that a flood of illegal aliens will assure the permanent ascendancy of their party. Contemplative types like me laugh at those who piss their lives away in activism battling activists of some other stripe. I prefer to use the time and good health I have left enjoying as much natural beauty as I can while there is still some left to enjoy.  A shot from my backyard:

IMG_0396 

Burden of Proof in Philosophy?

1. The question this post raises is whether it is at all useful to speak of burden of proof (BOP) in dialectical situations in which there is no judge or tribunal to lay down and enforce rules of procedure.  By a dialectical situation I mean a context in which orderly discussion occurs among two or more competent and sincere interlocutors who share the goal of arriving as best they can at the truth about some matter, or resolving some question in dispute.  My main concern is with dialectical situations that are broadly  philosophical.   I suspect that in philosophical debates the notion of burden of proof is out of place and not usefully deployed.  That is what I will now try to argue.

2. I will begin with the observation that the presumption of innocence (POI) in an Anglo-American court  of law is never up for grabs in that arena.  Thus the POI is not itself presumptively maintained and subject to defeat.  If Jones is accused of a crime, the presumption of his innocence can of course be defeated, but that he must be presumed innocent until proven guilty is itself never questioned and of course never defeated.  The POI is not itself a defeasible presumption.  And if Rescher is right that there are no indefeasible presumptions, then the POI is not even a presumption.  The POI is a rule of the 'game,' and constitutive of the 'game.'  The POI in a court room situation  is like a law of chess.  The laws of chess, as constitutive of chess, cannot themselves be contested within a game of chess.  The reason there is always a definite outcome in chess (win, lose, or draw) is precisely because of those nonnegotiable chess-constitutive laws. 

As I pointed out earlier, defeasible presumption (DP) and burden of proof are correlative notions.  The defeasible presumption that the accused is innocent until proven guilty places trhe onus probandi on the prosecution.  Therefore, from the fact that the POI is not itself a defeasible presumption in a court of law, it follows that neither is the BOP.  Where the initating BOP lies — the BOP that remains in force and never shifts during the proceedings — is never subject to debate.  It lies on the state in a criminal case and on the plaintiff in a civil case.

3. But in philosophy matters are otherwise. For in philosophy everything is up for grabs, including the nature of philosophical inquiry and the rules of procedure.  (This is why metaphilosophy is not 'outside of' philosophy but a branch of same.)  And so where the BOP lies in a debate between, say, atheists and theists is itself a matter of debate and bitter contention.  Each party seeks to put the BOP on the other, to 'bop' him if you will.  The theist is inclined to say that there is a defeasible presumption in favor of the truth of theism; but of course few atheists will meekly submit to that pronunciamento.  If the theist is right in his presumption, then he doesn't have to do anything except turn aside the atheist's objections: he is under no obligation to argue positively for thesism any more than the accused is under an obligation to prove his innocence.

4. Now we come to my tentative suggestion.  There is no fact of the matter as to where the BOP lies in any dialectical context, legal, philosophical or any other: it is a matter of decision.  This is because BOP is a procedural matter.  If so, then there must be an adjudicator above the fray (i.e., a judge or arbiter who is not party to the dispute) who makes the decision as to where the BOP lies and has the power to enforce his decision.  There must be an arbiter who lays down and enforces the rules of procedure.  But in philosophy there neither is nor can be an above-the-fray adjudicator  whose decisions are unquestionable and backed by the threat of violence.

For suppose I were to try to play the arbiter in a debate between a theist and an atheist.  I give the following speech:

There is a presumption in favor of every existing institution, long-standing way of doing things, and well-entrenched and widespread way of belief.  Now the consensus gentium is that God exists.  And so I lay it down that there is a defeasible presumption in favor of theism and that the burden of proof  lies squarely on the shoulders of the atheist.  Theism is doxastically innocent until proven guilty.  The theist need only rebut the atheist's objections; he needn't make a positive case for his side.

Not only would the atheist not accept this declaration, he would be justified in not accepting it, for reasons that are perhaps obvious.  For my declaration is as much up for grabs as anything else in philosophy.  And of course if I make an ad baculum move then I remove myself from philosophy's precincts altogether.  In philosophy the appeal is to reason, never to the stick. 

The situation in philosophy could be likened to the situation in a court of law in which the contending parties are the ones who decide on the rules of procedure, including BOP and DP rules.  Such a trial could not be brought to a conclusion.  That's the way it is in philosophy.  Every procedural rule and methodological maxim is further fodder for philosophical Forschung. (Sorry, couldn't resist the alliteration.)

My tentative conclusion is as follows.  In philosophy no good purpose is served by claims that the BOP lies on one side or the other of a dispute, or that there is a DP in favor of this thesis but not in favor of that one. For there is no fact of the matter as to where the BOP lies.  BOP considerations are usefully deployed only in dialectical situations in which some authority presides over the debate and lays down the rules of procedure and has the power to punish those who violate them.  Such an authority constitutes by his decision the 'fact' that the BOP lies on one side rather than on the other.

It follows from what I have said that if you disagree with me, then neither of us bears a burden  of proving his metaphilosophical thesis.  But this is paradoxical.  For if you disagree with me, then presumably you think that BOP considerations are usefully deployed in philosophy, and that there is a fact of the matter as to where the BOP lies, and that therefore one of us must bear a probative burden.  

Notes on Burden of Proof and Defeasible Presumption

Since I don't understand this topic very well, I blog about it.  Nescio, ergo blogo!  Caveat lector!  The following notes are a blend of what I have gleaned from Nicholas Rescher and Douglas Walton and my own reflections.

1. Burden of Proof and Defeasible Presumption are correlative notions.  If there is a defeasible presumption in favor of not-p, then the burden of proof rests on the one who asserts p.  And if p is such that the burden of proof rests on the one who asserts it, then there is a defeasible presumption in favor of not-p.  BOP and DP are two sides of the same coin.

For example, in Anglo-American courts of law there is a defeasible presumption in favor of the innocence of the accused. One is presumed innocent until proven guilty.  This throws the onus probandi upon the state in criminal cases and upon the plaintiff in civil cases.  The presumption of non-guilt induces the burden of proving guilt.

For a second example consider the practice of safety-conscious gun handlers in non-combat situations. Their presumption is that every gun is loaded; this puts the BOP on the one who claims the opposite.  In a combat situation, or just prior to one, however, it is the other way around: the wise soldier does not presume that his weapon is ready to fire; he checks and makes sure.  There is a defeasible presumption that his weapon is unloaded, and the burden is on him to prove that it is loaded.  Either way we have the correlativity of BOP and DP.

This suggests the context-relativity of judgments as to where the BOP lies.

2.  Presumption that p is true is not to be confused with (high) probability that p is true.  If a gun dealer has just received a shipment of  tactical shotguns from Remington the manufacturer, then the probability is very high that none of these guns is loaded.  And yet his safety-conscious presumption will be that they are loaded.  Similarly in a court of law.  The accused is presumed innocent even when the probability of his being innocent is low  or even zero.  (E.g., Jack Ruby's shooting of Lee Harvey Oswald.)

3. Proof  is a logical concept, but burden of proof is not.  Perhaps we could say that BOP lays down a rule of proper conduct in dialectical situations.  The rule pertains to the 'ethics of argumentation.'  The rule is that he who advances a thesis, by so doing, incurs the obligation to substantiate his thesis by adducing reasons or considerations in in its favor, and by answering objections.

4. Accordingly, there is both a burden of proof and a burden of reply.  The proponent of a thesis has the initial burden of defending his thesis.  This remains constant throughout the dialectical proceedings.  But if his opponent lodges a good objection, then the proponent has the additional burden of replying to the objection.  A further complication is that the opponent in the course of objecting to the proponent's contention may make a claim that itself needs defense, in which case the burden of proof shifts onto the opponent in respect of that claim. 

Bearing this in mind, we see the need to nuance the claim advanced in #1 above according to which the onus probandi in Anglo-American law rests on the state or on the plaintiff.  That is true with respect to the initial allegation, but the defense may assume burdens of proof depending on how it builds its case.

5. Presumptions make up the doxastic status quo.  And so it appears that a certain conservatism is inherent in laying the burden proof on those who would defeat presumptions.  This needs to be explored.

6. Wherein resides the rationality of a presumption?  Rescher claims in his book on presumptions that the rationality of a presumption consists in its conformity to a well-established practive, and that it is not a matter of evidence.  This too needs to be explored.

Does Meinong Multiply Entities Beyond Necessity?

There is a very good and a very simple reason why Meinong cannot be accused of multiplying entities  beyond necessity, and that is because his characteristic objects are not entities! An entity, by definition, is anything that is or has being. Since Meinongian objects lack being, they are not entities.

The golden mountain and the round square, to take the two most celebrated, neither exist, nor subsist, nor have any mode of being whatsoever. This is a point that is often missed. Misled by Russell, many think that Meinong's possibilia and impossibilia have a mode of being weaker than existence. Not so: his objects are jenseits von Sein und Nichtsein, beyond being and nonbeing. They are ausserseiend,   outside of being. Indeed, he speaks of das Aussersein des reinen Gegenstandes. The phrase is hard to translate, but "the extrabeing of the pure object" approximates to its sense. The point is that an   object like the golden mountain is a pure Sosein: its Sein is exhausted by its Sosein, its being by its being-so. It is a pure what, a pure essence wihout being.

I reject Meinong's Theory of Objects for reasons I may provide later.  My present point is merely that the theory cannot be faulted for a lack of ontological parsimony. A theory cannot posit entities beyond necessity if it does not posit them at all.

In his early Principles of Mathematics (1903), Bertrand Russell made a distinction that he later abandoned, namely, a distinction between Being and existence:

     Being is that which belongs to every conceivable term, to every
     possible object of thought — in short to everything that can
     possibly occur in any proposition, true or false, and to all such
     propositions themselves. [ . . . ] Existence, on the contrary, is
     the prerogative of some only amongst beings. (p. 449)

But this has nothing to do with Meinong and should not be read back into Meinong. Now Meinong does distinguish between existence and subsistence (Bestehen), but the latter is the mode of Being of ideal entities such as state of affairs; it has nothing to do with items like the golden mountain and the round square.
 

Burden of Proof in Philosophy: Preliminary Thoughts

A reader asks about burden of proof in philosophy.  I really ought to have a worked-out theory on this, but I don't.  Here are some very tentative remarks.

1. In the law it is clear where the burden of proof lies: on the plaintiff in a civil case and on the prosecutor in a criminal case.  The party bringing the charge must show that the accused is guilty; the accused does not have to show that he is innocent.  One is presumed innocent until proven guilty.  To be presumed innocent is of course not to be innocent.  It is simply false that one is innocent of a crime unless or until proven guilty.  And to be found innocent/guilty is not to be innocent/guilty.  O. J. Simpson, for example, was found innocent of a double homicide.  But I have no doubt in my mind that he was guilty.  I don't mean that autobiographically as a report on my mental state; I mean the S.O.B. really was guilty.  Agree with me on this or not, you must agree that someone found innocent can be guilty and someone found guilty can be innocent. 

We should distinguish between burden of proof and standards of proof.  In the criminal law, the probative standard for guilt is 'beyond a reasonable doubt,' while in civil cases the standard is less demanding: 'preponderance of the evidence.'

2. In philosophy it is not often clear where the burden of proof lies, nor what our probative standards ought to be.  (What the hell did you expect?)  'Proof' can be used in a very strict way to refer to a valid deductive argument with objectively self-evident premises.  But this is not what 'proof' means in 'burden of proof.'  It means something like: burden of argument or burden of persuasion.   It means that some claims need to be argued for, and some don't.  Or perhaps: there is a (perhaps defeasible) presumption in favor of some claims but not in favor of their negations. 

For example, I would say there is a defeasible presumption in favor of the claim that drinking coffee in moderate amounts carries no health risk for most people.  So the burden of proof would be on a researcher who claims that coffee-drinking causes pancreatic cancer.  And because the evidence that coffee-drinking is harmless is so strong,  the probative bar the researcher must clear is correspondingly high.  The researcher needs to give strong evidence for his claim; the rest of us don't need to do anything.

Now consider the Holocaust denier, the 9/11 'truther,' the Obama 'birther,' and the Osama-was-killed-in 2001 kook.  Clearly, the burden lies on them to make their respective cases, and good luck to them.  The appropriate thing to say to those of this stripe is "Put up or shut up."  That 9/11 was an 'inside job' is a claim of such low antecedent probability that the case for it must be correspondingly strong.

A more philosophical example is provided by my present dispute with Peter Lupu about the modal principle that states that if proposition p is necessary, and p entails proposition q, then q is necessary.  He thinks he has found a counterexample to this principle.  Where does the onus probandi lie, and why?  It seem clear to me that the burden lies on Peter since he is controverting a well-known principle of elementary modal propositional logic.  (See. e.g., K. Konyndyk, Introductory Modal Logic, U. of Notre Dame Press, 1986, p. 32.) The burden does not lie on me since I am invoking a well-established, uncontroversial principle. 

Can we generalize from this example and say that whenever one controverts something well-established and long-accepted one assumes the burden of proof?   I doubt it.  Galileo defied Aristotle and the Church when he made certain empirically-based claims about the moon.  He claimed that the moon was not a perfect sphere.  As the story goes, the Church authorties refused to look through his telescope.  But it is at least arguable that the onus probandi rested on the authorities since they were flying in the face of sense perception.

But I hesitate to say that whenever one's case is based on sense perception one can shirk the burden of proof.

3.  I doubt that there is any criterion that allows us to sort claims that need proof or argument from those that don't.  Or can you think of one?  Some maintain that whenever a person make a claim to the effect that X exists, then the burden of proof is on him.  Well, it is in some cases, but surely not in all.  If you claim that extraterrestrial intelligent beings exist, then the burden is on you.  But if you claim that there are Saguaro cacti in Arizona, then the burden of proof is not on you but on the one who denies it.

Others seem to think that whenever one makes an affirmative claim one assumes a burden of proof.  Not so.  'That hillside is studded with Saguaros' said to my hiking companion needs no proof.  I shoulder no probative burden when I make a commonplace observation such as that.

4. Burden of proof and the ad ignorantiam 'fallacy.'  Gun instructors sometimes say that every gun is loaded.  That is plainly false as is stands, but a wise saying nonetheless if interpreted to mean: every gun is to be presumed loaded until proven unloaded.  So if  person A claims to person B that a certain gun is unloaded, the burden of proof is on him to show that it is unloaded; person B does not bear the burden of proving that it is loaded.  Indeed it seems that B would be within his epistemic rights were he to claim that his ignorance of whether or not the gun is loaded is good evidence of its being loaded.  But this is an appeal to ignorance.  It has not been shown that ~p; therefore p gives us the form of the ad ignoratiam 'fallacy.'  But in this case the appeal to ignorance seem nonfallacious.  Safety considerations dictate a defeasible presumption in favor of every gun's being loaded, a presumption that shifts the onus probandi onto the one who maintains the opposite.

The situation is similar to that in a court of law.  The defendant is presumed innocent until proven guilty, so the burden of proof rests on either the state or the plaintiff.  In a criminal case the probative bar is set high: the accused has to be shown guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.  Here too there is a legitimate appeal to ignorance: it has not been shown that the defendant is guilty beyond a reasonable doubt; therefore, he is not guilty.

There are 'safety' considerations in both the gun example and the law example.  It is because we want to be on the safe side — and not get shot — that we presume every gun to be loaded.  And it is because we want to be on the safe side — and not sentence an innocent person — that we presume the accused to be innocent until proven guilty.

But now what about God?  Don't safety considerations apply here as well? If God exists, then our ultimate happiness depends on getting into right relation with him.  So why can't one make a legitimate appeal to ignorance here?  Now of course from the fact that no one has proven that God does not exist, it does not follow that God exists.  That is an invalid deductive argument.  That would be a truly fallacious instance of ad ignorantiam.  But it is also invalid to infer than a gun is loaded because it hasn't been proven to be loaded, or that a man is innocent because he hasn't been proven to be guilty.  It just doesn't follow in any of these cases.  And yet we reasonably consider the gun loaded and we reasonably find the accused to be innocent.  And so why can't we reasonably presume God to exist on the basis of the fact that he hasn't been shown not to exist?  If the burden of proof rests on the one who claims that gun is unloaded, why doesn't the burden of proof rest on the one who claims that God is nonexistent?  We don't want to get shot, but we also don't want to lose our ultimate beatitude — if ultimate beatitude there be. 

You can't say that that the burden of proof rests on the theist because he is making a positive claim; for there are positive claims that need no proof.  And you can't say that the burden of proof rests on the theist becuase he is making an existential claim; for there are existential claims — I gave an example above — that need no proof.  Nor can you say that the burden rests on the theist because he is controverting the widely-accepted; the consensus gentium is that God exists.

But I suppose you could reasonably say that the burden rests on the theist since he is making a claim that goes well beyond what is empirically verifiable.

The Late Great Failed State of California

Here.  Excerpt:

Let there be no mistake: when you produce so many criminals that you can’t afford to lock them up, you are a failed state.  Virtually every important civil institution in society has to fail to get you to this point.  Your homes and houses of worship are failing to build law abiding citizens, much less responsible and informed voters.  Your schools aren’t educating enough of your kids to make an honest living.  Your taxes and policies are so bad that you are driving thousands of businesses away.  Your management systems must be fouled and confused to the max for you to create something so dysfunctional, so wildly beyond your means, that the Supreme Court of the United States (wisely or foolishly is another question) starts to micromanage your jails.

 

Peter Berger on Dominique Strauss-Kahn and the ‘Perp Walk’

Peter Berger, in Symbols of Tyranny in America, writes (emphasis added):

The “perp walk”, as far as I know, is a peculiar American institution. The police like to use it especially with high-status defendants, who would be particularly embarrassed by such public exposure. Beyond serving to enhance relations between the police and the press, the practice is also supposed to express democratic egalitarianism—look, we can do this to anybody—corollary: watch out, we could do it to you. The “perp walk” is what the sociologist Harold Garfinkel called a degradation ceremony.  It serves no legitimate purpose whatever. Its only purpose is to humiliate and to show the helplessness of the “perp”. It is an egregious offence against the presumption of innocence. I know of no similar practice in any other democratic country (though it has been common in China). A faint parallel may be the “dock” in British courtrooms, also suggesting that the “prisoner in the dock” is guilty, but it does not have the humiliation and helplessness inflicted on the accused.

Berger's is an excellent and thought-provoking article, but that the 'perp walk' serves no legitimate purpose is arguably false, and for the very reason that Berger himself supplies without endorsing, namely, that it expresses the egalitarianism of a judicial system in which the high and mighty are held to the same standards as the rest of us.  It is very important in a well-functioning society that the people believe that the law applies to all equally, that like cases are treated in a like manner regardless of the perpetrator's social or economic status.  The 'perp walk' lets the people see that even the likes of Strauss-Kahn are subject to the law.  So it does serve a legitimate purpose.

But I have to agree with Berger that it does offend against the presumption of innocence.  You can decide whether this consideration outweighs the other.

 

The Rabbit of Real Existence and the Empty Hat of Mere Logic

Consider again this curious piece of reasoning:

1. For any x, x = x.  Ergo:
2. a = a.  Ergo:
3. (Ex)(x = a). Ergo:
4. a exists.

This reasoning is curious because it seems to show that one can deduce the real existence of an individual a from a purely formal principle of logic, the Law of Identity.  And yet we know that this cannot be done.  We know that the rabbit of real existence cannot be pulled from the empty hat of mere logic. Since the argument cannot be sound, it must be possible to say where it goes wrong.  (It is a strange fact of philosophical experience that arguments that almost all philosophers reject nevertheless inspire the wildest controversy when it comes to the proper diagnosis of the error.  Think of the arguments of Zeno, Anselm, and McTaggart.) 

The move from (1) to (2) appears to be by Universal Instantiation.  One will be forgiven for thinking that if everything is self-identical, then a is self-identical.  But I say that right here is a (or the) mistake.   To move from (1) to (2), the variable 'x' must be replaced by the substituend 'a' which is a constant.   Now there are exactly three possibilities:

Either 'a' refers to something that exists, or 'a' refers to something that does not exist or 'a' does not refer at all.  On the third possibility it would be impossible validly to move from (2) to (3) by Existential Generalization.  The same goes for the second possibility:  if 'a' refers to a Meinongian nonexistent object, then  one could apply existentially-neutral Particular Generalization to (2), but not Existential Generalization.  This leaves the first alternative.  But if 'a' refers to something that exists, then right at this point real existence has been smuggled into the argument. 

I hope the point is painfully obvious.  One cannot move from (1) to (2) by logic alone: one needs an extralogical assumption, namely, that 'a' designates something that exists.  To put it another way, one must assume that the domain of quantification is not only nonempty but inhabited by existing individuals.  After all, (1) is true for every domain, empty or not.  (1) lacks Existential Import.  The truth of (1) is consistent with there being no individuals at all.

Let's now consider Peter's supposed counterexample to the principle that if p entails q and p is necessary, then q is also necessary.  He thinks that the above argument shows that there are cases in which necessary propositions entail contingent ones.  Thus he thinks that the conjunction of (1) and (2) entails (3), but that (3) is contingent.

Well, I agree that if we are quantifying over a domain the members of which are contingent individuals, then (3) is contingent.  But surely the conjunction of (1) and (2) is also contingent.  For the conjunction of a necessary and a contingent proposition is a contingent proposition.  Now of course (1) is necessary.  But (2), despite appearances, is contingent.  For if 'a' designates a contingent individual, then it designates an individual that exists in some but not all worlds, and in those worlds in which a does not not exist it is not true that a = a.

In the worlds in which a exists, a is essentially a.  But a is not necessarily a because there are worlds in which a does not exist.

What accounts for the illusion that if (1) is necessary, then (2) must also be necessary?   Could it be the tendency to forget that while 'x' is a variable,  'a' is an arbitrary constant?

 

Hume’s Fork and Leibniz’s Fork

No doubt you have heard of Hume's Fork.  'Fork,' presumably from the Latin furca, suggests a bifurcation, a division; in this case  of meaningful statements into two mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive classes, the one consisting of relations of ideas, the other of matters of fact. In the Enquiry, Hume writes:

     Propositions of this kind [relations of ideas] can be discovered
     purely by thinking, with no need to attend to anything that
     actually exists anywhere in the universe. . . . Matters of fact . .
     . are not established in the same way; and we cannot have such
     strong grounds for thinking them true. The contrary of every matter
     of fact is still possible, because it doesn't imply a contradiction
     and is conceived by the mind as easily and clearly as if it
     conformed perfectly to reality. That the sun will not rise tomorrow
     is just as intelligible as – and no more contradictory than – the
     proposition that the sun will rise tomorrow.

One question that arises is whether Hume's Fork was anticipated by any earlier philosopher. Leibniz of course makes a distinction between truths of reason and truths of fact that is very similar to Hume's distinction between relations of ideas and matters of fact. See, for example, Monadology #33. In a very astute comment from the old blog, 'Spur' details the similarities and concludes:

     Leibniz and Hume have the same basic distinction in mind, between
     those truths which are necessary and can be known a priori, and
     those which are contingent and can only be known a posteriori. The
     two philosophers use slightly different terminology, and Leibniz
     would balk at Hume's use of 'relations between ideas' in connection
     with truths of reason only, but the basic distinction seems to me
     to be the same.

I deny that the basic distinction is the same and I base my denial on a fact that Spur will admit, namely, that for Leibniz, every proposition is analytic in that every (true) proposition is such that the predicate is contained in the subject: Praedicatum inesse subjecto verae propositionis. I argue as follows. Since for Leibniz every truth is analytic, while for Hume some truths are analytic and some are not, the two distinctions cannot be the same. To this, the Spurian (I do not say Spurious) response is:

     The [Leibnizian] distinction is between two kinds of analytic
     truths: those that can be finitely analyzed, and those that can't.
     This is an absolute distinction and there are no truths that belong
     to both classes. Even from God's point of view there is presumably
     an absolute distinction between necessary and contingent truths,
     though perhaps he wouldn't view this as a distinction between
     finitely and non-finitely analyzable truths, because his knowledge
     of truths is intuitive and never involves analysis.

I grant that the two kinds of Leibnizian analytic truths form mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive classes. But I deny that this suffices to show that "the same basic distinction" is to be found in both Leibniz and   Hume.

One consideration is that they do not form the same mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive classes. Though every Humean relation of ideas is a Leibnizian truth of reason, the converse does not hold. I think Spur will agree to this. But if he does, then surely this shows that the two distinctions are not the same. I should think that extensional sameness is necessary, though not sufficient, for sameness.

But even if the two distinctions were extensionally the same, they are not 'intensionally' the same distinction.

Consider Judas is Judas and Judas betrays Christ. For both  philosophers, the first proposition is necessary and the second is contingent. But Leibniz and Hume cannot mean the same by 'contingent.' If you negate the first, the result is a contradiction, and both philosophers would agree that it is, and that it doesn't matter whether the proposition is viewed from a divine or a human point of view. The negation of the second, however, is, from God's point of view a contradiction for Leibniz, but not for Hume. For Leibniz, the betrayal of Christ is included within the complete individual concept of Judas that God has before his mind. So if God entertains the proposition Judas does not betray Christ, he sees immediately that it is self-contradictory in the same way that I see immediately that The   meanest man in Fargo, North Dakota is not mean is self-contradictory.

Of course, for Leibniz, it is contingent that Judas exists: there are possible worlds in which Judas does not exist. But given that Judas does exist, he has all his properties essentially. Thus Judas betrays   Christ is contingent only in an epistemic sense: we finite intellects see no contradiction when we entertain the negation of the proposition in question. Given our finitude, our concepts of individuals cannot be complete: they cannot include every property, monadic and relational, of individuals. But if, per impossibile, we could ascend to the divine standpoint, and if every truth is analytic (as Leibniz in effect holds via his predicate-in-subject principle), then we would see that Judas betrays Christ is conditionally necessary: nec
essary given the existence of Judas.

'Contingent' therefore means different things for Leibniz and Hume. Contingency in Hume cuts deeper. Not only is the existence of Judas contingent, it is also contingent that he has the properties he has. This is a contingency rooted in reality and not merely in our ignorance.

Perhaps my point could be put as follows. The Leibnizian distinction is not absolute in the sense that, relative to the absolute point of view, God's point of view, the distinction collapses. For God, both of the Judas propositions cited above are analytic, both are necessarily true (given the existence of Judas), and both are knowable a priori.  But for Hume, the distinction is absolute in that there is no point of view relative to which the distinction collapses.

I'm stretching now, but I think one could say that, even if Hume admitted God into his system, he would say that not even for God is a matter of fact knowable a priori. For the empiricist Hume the world is radically contingent in a way it could not be for Leibniz the rationalist.

Realism and Idealism

An excerpt from an e-mail by Chris C., with responses in blue.

. . . I read your post on Butchvarov's latest paper, and you made clear your argument about the problem with the crucial step in the "idealist" position; then you closed with the assertion that realism has its own set of problems.  Granted that that's obviously true, I was wondering if you had a piece, whether a paper or a blog post, that elucidated your positions on 1) Why, although you think ultimately he is wrong, you also think Butch's position is a serious alternative to realism; and 2) Why, despite its problems, you believe realism addresses those problems adequately.

That post ended rather abruptly with the claim, "Metaphysical realism, of course, has its own set of difficulties."  I was planning to say a bit more, but decided to quit since the post was already quite long by 'blog' standards.  Brevity, after all, is the soul, not only of wit, but of blog.  I was going to add something like this:

My aim in criticizing Butchvarov and other broadly Kantian idealists/nonrealists is not  to resurrect an Aristotelian or Aristotelian-Thomistic theory of knowledge, as if those gentlemen clearly had the truth, a truth we have somehow, post Descartes, forgotten.  My aim is to throw the problems themselves into the starkest relief possible.  This is in line with my conception of philosophy as fundamentally aporetic: the problems come first, solutions second, if ever.  A philosopher cannot be true to his vocation if he is incapable of inhibiting the very strong natural tendency to want answers, solutions, definite conclusions which he can live by and which will provide 'doxastic security' and legitimation of his way of life.    You are not a philosopher if you are out for solutions at all costs.  As Leo Strauss points out near the beginning of his essay on Thucydides, and elsewhere, the unum necessarium for the philosopher, the one thing needful, is free inquiry.  Inquiry, however, uncovers problems, difficulties, questions, and some of these are reasonably viewed as insolubilia.

The philosopher, therefore, is necessarily in tension with ideologues and dogmatists who claim to be in possession of the truth.  What did Socrates claim to know?  That he didn't know.  Of course, to be in secure possession of the truth (which implies knowing that one is in secure possession of it) is a superior state to be in than in the state of forever seeking it.  Obviously, knowing is better than believing, and seeing face-to-face is better than "seeing through a glass darkly." On the other hand, to think one has the truth when one doesn't is to be in a worse state than the state of seeking it.  For example, Muhammad Atta and the boys, thinking they knew the truth, saw their way clear to murdering 3000 people.

Your first question:  How can I believe that Butch's position is untenable while also considering it a serious alternative to realism?  Because I hold open the possibility that all extant (and future) positions are untenable.  In other words, I take seriously the possibility that the central problems of philosophy are genuine (contra the logical positivists, the later Wittgenstein, and such Freudian-Wittgensteinian epigoni as Morris Lazerowitz), important  — what could count as important if problems relating to God and the soul are not important? — but absolutely insoluble by us. 

Your second question:  How can I believe that metaphysical realism, despite its problems, addresses those problems adequately?  Well, I don't believe it addresses them adequately.

I would say your book is pretty much a response to those questions, but what I'm looking for is your understanding of what makes Butch's position so powerful.  What I have in mind is something like what [Stanley] Rosen does in The Elusiveness of the Ordinary, where in a couple of essays he makes clear that there is not going to be a way based on analysis or deduction to adjudicate between the Platonic and the Kantian claims – that is, the claims, respectively, that the "Forms" are external and mind-independent and that they are internal and mind-dependent.  The final two essays in the aforementioned book are Rosen's attempt to provide a way to tip the scales in favor of Plato, and I have to say I haven't really seen a better way to do it.

I haven't read Rosen's book, but I will soon get hold of it.  It will be interesting to see whether he has a compelling rational way of tipping the scales.

The point is that I was wondering if you thought, along those lines, that roughly speaking your form of realism and Butch's form of idealism form a similar sort of "fundamental alternative" in the way Rosen believes Platonism and Kantianism do.  And if so, I would be interested to see your take on what makes Butch's idealism (again roughly speaking) as something that cannot be truly defeated, but rather must be established as something of a less plausible vision of how things really stand.
 
Can any philosophical position be "truly defeated"?  I assume that we cherish the very highest standards of intellectual honesty and rigor and we are able to inhibit the extremely strong life-enhacing need for firm beliefs and tenets (etymologically from L. tenere, to hold, so that a tenet is literally something one holds onto for doxastic security and legitimation of one's modus vivendi.)  Now there are some sophomoric positions that can be definitively defeated, e.g., the relativist who maintains both that every truth is relative and that his thesis is nonrelatively true.  But in the history of philosophy has even one substantive position ever been "truly defeated," i.e., defeated to the satisfaction of all competent practioners?  (A competent practioner is one who possesses all the relevant moral and intellectual virtues, is apprised of all relevant empirical facts, understands logic, etc.)  I would say No.  But perhaps you have an example for me. 
 
Now why don't I think that I have defeated Butchvarov on any of the points we dispute?  Part of the reason is that he does not admit defeat.  If I cannot bring him to see that he is wrong about, say, nonexistent objects, then this gives me a very good reason to doubt that I am right and have truly refuted his position.  It seems to me that, unless one is an ideologue or a dogmatist, one must be impressed by the pervasive and long-standing fact of dissensus among the best and brightest.  Of course, I could be right and Butch wrong.  If he maintains that p and I maintain that not-p, then one of us is right and the other wrong.  But which one?  If I do not know that I am right, or know that he is wrong, then I haven't solved the problem that divides us.  It is not enough to be right, one must know that one is right and be able to diagnose convincingly how they other guy went wrong.
As for Platonism versus Kantianism, see my post on another latter-day Kantian, Milton Munitz, espceically the section on Platonic and Kantian intelligibility.  My Existence book avoids both Kantianism and Platonism by adopting an onto-theological idealism.  If the reality of the real traces back to divine mind, that is reality and realism enough, but it is also a form of idealism in that the real is not independent of mind as such.
 
As I've indicated in previous emails, I have always taken realism as a presumptive truth (in a general way) and I thus place the burden of truth [proof]  on idealism.  Kant impressed me, but he didn't convince me, and consequently I've never understood what it was exactly in realism that made people jump into the idealist camp.  That is, I've never understood that basic shift where someone takes idealism as presumptively true and thus places the burden of proof on realism.  What was so bad about realist arguments that made idealism so attractive as an alternative for these thinkers?
 
Well, this is a very large topic, but you can glean some idea of what motivated Kant to make his transcendental turn from his famous 1772 letter to Marcus Herz, part of which is here.  And then there is the metaphilosophical topic of burden of proof.  How does one justify a claim to the effect that the burden of proof lies on one or the other side of a dispute?  For you there is a (defeasible?) presumption in favor of realism, and that therefore the onus probandi lies on the nonrealist.  But what criteria do you employ in arriving at this judgment?

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Do Clothes Make the Man?

Back in '65, I could relate to the message of The Yardbirds, Mister, You're a Better Man Than I.  Continuing with the sartorial theme, we have Charlie Rich, Mohair Sam.  Now that we've got Charlie Rich cued up, may as well give a listen to his Lonely Weekends.   Here is Rich again, followed by April Steven's parody, "No Hair Sam."  I'll pass on Marty Robbins' "White Sport Coat" and end with  ZZ Top, Sharp Dressed Man.