Interactionist substance dualism in the philosophy of mind is supposed to face a devastating objection, the interaction objection. In the first part of this post I will present this objection in its traditional form and suggest that it is not all that serious. In the second part, however, I take the objection seriously and consider whether Aristotelian- Thomistic hylomorphism has the resources to counter it.
Continue reading “A Hylomorphic Solution to the Interaction Problem?”
As I understand the Pairing Objection to substance dualism it goes like this. Let m1 and m2 be mental tokens of type M and b1 and b2 brain tokens of type B, and suppose that M-type events cause B-type events. Suppose m1 and m2 both occur at time t, and b1 and b2 both occur at a slightly later time t*. Suppose further that m1 is in Tim's mind, m2 in Tom's mind, b1 in Tim's brain and b2 in Tom's brain. What makes it the case that m1 causes b1 rather than b2, and that m2 causes b2 rather than b1? What insures that m1 is paired with b1 and m2 with b2? How, on dualist interactionist assumptions, can we insure that the picture looks like this:
Continue reading “The Pairing Objection to Substance Dualism”
Peter Lupu has come out in favor of emergentism in the philosophy of mind. Here is an argument he could use to defend the thesis that mental properties are emergent properties:
1. Materialistic Anti-Dualism: Human beings are nothing more than complex material systems.
2. Anti-Reductivism: Mental properties are not identical to physical properties, nor do the former logically imply the latter.
3. Anti-Eliminativism: Human beings do in fact instantiate mental properties.
4. Anti-Panpsychism: The basic constituents of the physical world do not have mental properties.
Therefore
5. Mental properties are emergent properties, which implies that there are emergent properties.
The cases for (2) are (3) are overwhelming, so I consider them 'off the table.' Peter agrees. Panpsychism ought to be investigated, but Peter finds it highly implausible, so let's assume it to be false for the sake of this discussion. The crucial premise — the dialectical bone of contention if you will — between Peter and me is (1). He accepts (1) while I reject it. It is worth noting that there are at least three ways of rejecting (1): by being a substance dualist, or an idealist (see John Foster's work), or a Thomistic hylomorphic dualist. So I would argue from ~(5) to ~(1). But for now we assume that (1) is true.
Continue reading “Supervenience, Emergence, Mind, and Magic”
In my humble opinion, materialist theories of mind are all of them quite hopeless. All of them founder on the reef of irreducible subjectivity. But is substance dualism in a better position than materialism when it comes to explaining the subjectivity of conscious experience?
Colin McGinn, drawing on Thomas Nagel, thinks that the same problem that afflicts the materialist returns to haunt the substance dualist. Now what was that problem again?
Continue reading “Does Substance Dualism Explain Subjectivity? The Nagel-McGinn Parity Argument”
This is a paper I read at the Twentieth World Congress of Philosophy, Boston, Massachusetts, August 10-15, 1998. It explains the notions of strong and global supervenience, notions which will serve as foils in getting a handle on the concept of emergence.
ABSTRACT: Could a classical theist be a physicalist? Although a negative answer to this question may seem obvious, it turns out that a case can be made for the consistency of a variant of classical theism and global supervenience physicalism. Although intriguing, the case ultimately fails due to the weakness of global supervenience as an account of the dependence of mental on physical properties.
Physicalism is popular these days, and to a lesser extent so is classical theism. It should therefore come as no surprise that a number of theists are bent on combining theism with physicalism. But could a classical theist be a physicalist? Is this a coherent doctrinal combination? The classical theist affirms the metaphysically necessary existence of a concrete, purely spiritual being upon which every other concrete being is ontologically dependent. The physicalist, however, is committed to the proposition that everything, or at least everything concrete, is either physical or determined by the physical. To be a bit more precise, physicalism is usefully viewed as the conjunction of an 'inventory thesis' which specifies physicalistically admissible individuals and a 'determination thesis' which specifies physicalistically admissible properties.(1) What the inventory thesis says, at a first approximation, is that every concretum is either a physical item or composed of physical items. As for the determination thesis, what it says is that physical property-instantiations determine all other property-instantiations; equivalently, every nonphysical property-instantiation supervenes on physical property-instantiations. These rough characterizations suggest that theism and physicalism logically exclude one another. If God as classically conceived exists, then the inventory thesis is violated: not every concrete entity is either physical or composed of physical items. And if God exists, it would also appear that the determination thesis is flouted: God's instantiation of his omni-attributes does not supervene on His instantiation of any physical properties: He has none. So at first glance it seems almost crashingly obvious that the classical theist cannot be a physicalist.
But this talk cannot end just yet. For when we get down to the details of formulating precise versions of both the inventory and determination theses, it turns out that there is a way to attempt the reconciliation of theism and physicalism. It is the viability of this way that I aim to explore. But first some background.
Continue reading “Classical Theism and Global Supervenience Physicalism”
The upshot of an earlier argument was that I cannot be a soul-body composite. So if I have a soul, then I am identical with it. This is a conclusion that Roderick Chisholm also arrived at:
If we say that (1) I am a thinking being and (2) that thinking beings and souls are the same, then we should also say (3) that I am a soul; and therefore (if we take 'have' in its ordinary sense) we should say (4) that I do not have a soul. ("On the Simplicity of the Soul," Philosophical Perspectives 5, 1991, p. 178)
If this is right, then hylomorphic dualism is untenable as well as any substance-dualist position according to which I am a composite of two substances. If I have a soul, speaking loosely, then I don't have it, speaking strictly, but am identical to it. But why suppose that one either has or is a soul? Why can't one be a brain-body composite? For essentially the same reasons that I gave last time for my not being a soul-body composite.
First an argument to the conclusion that I am not identical to a brain-body composite, then an argument that I am not identical to my brain.
A strange question, but one to which sense can be attached. What I am asking is whether or not the self can be a composite entity, a whole of parts. Or am I a simple entity? The question has a dualist, a materialist, and an idealist form. Dualist: Could I be a mind-body or soul-body composite? Materialist: Could I be a brain-body composite? Idealist: Could I be a composite of items that are all of them of a spiritual nature? And if one is a dualist, the problem occurs in a compound form: given that both soul and body are composites, how can I be a composite of these two composites?
If you are ever in Flagstaff, Arizona in search of a coffee house, I recommend Macy's. I met up with Peter Lupu there on Saturday and an excellent discussion ensued fueled in part by by my triple espresso con panna and his triple latte. We discussed consciousness, its existence, meaning, and value.
Could freedom of the will in the strong or unconditional 'could have done otherwise' sense be an illusion?
Suppose A and B are incompatible but possible courses of action, and I am deliberating as to whether I should do A or B. (Should I continue with this blogging business, or devote more time to less ephemeral pursuits?) Deliberating, I have the sense that it is up to me what happens. I have the sense that it is not the case that events prior to my birth, together with the laws of nature, necessitate that I do what I end up doing. Seriously deliberating, I presuppose the falsity of determinism. Determinism is the thesis that, given the actual past, and the actual laws of nature, there is only one possible future. When I seriously deliberate, however, my deliberation behavior manifests the belief that there is more than one possible future, and that it is up to me which of these possible futures becomes actual. There is the possible future in which I hike tomorrow morning and blog in the afternoon and the equipossible future in which I blog tomorrow morning and hike in the afternoon. And which becomes actual depends on me.
Continue reading “Could Freedom of the Will be an Illusion?”
As I said earlier, John R. Searle is a great philosophical critic. Armed with muscular prose, common sense, and a surly (Searle-ly?) attitude, he shreds the sophistry of Dennett and Co. But I have never quite understood his own solution to the mind-body problem. Herewith, some notes on one aspect of my difficulties and his.
Continue reading “On Searle: Irreducibility Without Dualism?”
A zombie is a critter that is physically and behaviorally exactly like a human being (or any being that we consider to be conscious) but lacks consciousness. That is a stipulative definition, so don't argue with me about it. Just accept it. I'll use 'zombie' to refer to human zombies and won't worry about cat zombies, etc.
The Zombies were a 1960's British Invasion rock group that had a couple of smash singles before vanishing into the oblivion whence they sprang. Out and about one Saturday afternoon, surfing the FM band, I came across one of their hits, "She's Not There." I have heard it countless times, and it is probably playing in your head right now, dear reader. (I apologize for the meme infestation.)
Suddenly, after all these years, the song assumed New Meaning, Deep Meaning. The Zombies were singing about a philosophical zombie! The refrain, "But she's not there" referred to the light (of consciousness) being out in the poor lass. (And how do you know that said light was not out in them as well?)
A Heideggerian could gloss the situation as follows. To be there is to be a case of Dasein, Da-Sein. The girl was vorhanden all right, and perhaps even zuhanden (as a tool for sexual gratification), aber sie war nicht da, nicht ein Fall vom Dasein. She was a Black Forest zombie.
To answer this question we need to know what we mean by 'explain' and how it differs from 'explain away.'
1. Is there a difference between religion and superstition, or is religion by its very nature superstitious? There seem to be two main views. One is that of skeptics and naturalists. For them, religion, apart perhaps from its ethical teaching, is superstitious in nature so that there could not be a religion free of superstition. Religion just is a tissue of superstitious beliefs and practices and has been exposed as such by the advance of natural science. The other view is that of those who take religion seriously as having a basis in reality. They do not deny that there are superstitious beliefs, practices, and people. Nor do they deny that religions are often interlarded with superstition. What they deny is that religion is in its essence superstitious.
Continue reading “Questions About Religion and Superstition. Superstitious Materialism”
The thesis of intentionality can be stated roughly as follows: Every consciousness is a consciousness of something. I claim that this Brentano thesis is false because of the existence of non-intentional states of consciousness. Peter Lupu understands and agrees but no one else hereabouts does. So I need to take a few steps back and issue some clarifications. I begin by distinguishing among four uses of 'of.' I'll call them the subjective, the objective, the dual, and the appositive. Once these are on the table one or two impediments to the understanding of my point — which of course is not original with me — will have been removed.
Continue reading “Four Uses of ‘Of’ and Non-Intentional Conscious States”
