Could Intentionality be an Illusion? A Note on Rosenberg

Could intentonality be an illusion?  Of course not.  But seemingly intelligent people think otherwise:

A single still photograph doesn't convey movement the way a motion picture does. Watching a sequence of slightly different photos one photo per hour, or per minute, or even one every 6 seconds won't do it either. But looking at the right sequence of still pictures succeeding each other every one-twentieth of a second produces the illusion that the images in each still photo are moving. Increasing the rate enhances the illusion, though beyond a certain rate the illusion gets no better for creatures like us. But it's still an illusion. There is noting to it but the succession of still pictures. That's how movies perpetrate their illusion. The large set of still pictures is organized together in a way that produces in creatures like us the illusion that the images are moving. In creatures with different brains and eyes, ones that work faster, the trick might not work. In ones that work slower, changing the still pictures at the rate of one every hour (as in time-lapse photography) could work. But there is no movement of any of the images in any of the pictures, nor does anything move from one photo onto the next. Of course, the projector is moving, and the photons are moving, and the actors were moving. But all the movement that the movie watcher detects is in the eye of the beholder. That is why the movement is illusory.

The notion that thoughts are about stuff is illusory in roughly the same way. Think of each input/output neural circuit as a single still photo. Now, put together a huge number of input/output circuits in the right way. None of them is about anything; each is just an input/output circuit firing or not. But when they act together, they "project" the illusion that there are thoughts about stuff. They do that through the behavior and the conscious experience (if any) that they produce. (Alex Rosenberg, The Atheists' Guide to Reality: Enjoying Life Without Illusions.  The quotation was copied from here.)

Rosenberg is not saying, as an emergentist might, that the synergy of sufficiently many neural circuits gives rise to genuine object-directed thoughts.    He is saying something far worse, something literally nonsensical, namely, that the object-directed thought that thoughts are object-directed is an illusion.  The absurdity of Rosenberg's position can be seen as follows.

1. Either the words "The notion that thoughts are about stuff is illusory"  express a thought — the thought that there are no object-directed thoughts — or they do not. 
2. If the latter, then the words are meaningless.
3. If the former, then the thought is either true or false.
4. If the thought is true, then there there are no object-directed thoughts, including the one expressed by Rosenberg's words, and so his words are once again meaningless.
5. If the thought is false, then there are object-directed thoughts, and Rosenberg's claim is false.
Therefore
6. Rosenberg's claim is either meaningless or false.  His position is self-refuting.

As for the analogy, it is perfectly hopeless, presupposing as it does genuine intrinsic intentionality.  If I am watching a movie of a man running, then I am under an illusion in that there is nothing moving on the movie screen: there is just a series of stills. But the experience I am undergoing is a perfectly good experience that exhibits genuine intrinsic intentionality: it is a visual experiencing of a man running, or to be perfectly punctilious about it: a visual experiencing AS OF a man running.  Whether or not the man depicted exists, as would be the case if the movie were a newsreel, the experience exists, and so cannot be illusory.

 To understand the analogy one must understand that there are intentional experiences, experiences that take an accusative.  But if you understand that, then you ought to be able to understand that the analogy cannot be used to render intelligible how it might that it is illusory that there are intentional experiences.

What alone remains of interest here is how a seemingly intelligent fellow could adopt a position so manifestly absurd.  I suspect the answer is that he has stupefied himself  by  his blind adherence to scientistic/naturalistic ideology.

Here is an earlier slap at Rosenberg.  Peter Lupu joins in the fun here.

On ‘Stuff’ and ‘Ass’: A Language Rant

Too many people use the word 'stuff' nowadays. I was brought up to believe that it is a piece of slang best avoided in all but the most informal of contexts. So when I hear a good scholar make mention of all the 'stuff' he has published on this topic or that, I wonder how  long before he starts using 'crap' instead of 'stuff.'  "You know, Bill, I've published a lot of crap on anaphora; I think you'll find it   excellent." But why stop with 'crap'?  "Professor X has published a fine piece of shit in Nous on temporal indexicals. Have you read it?"

If you ask me to read your 'stuff,' I may wonder whether you take it seriously and whether I should. But if you ask me to read your work, then I am more likely to take you seriously and give you my attention. Why use 'stuff' when 'work' is available? Do you use 'stuff' so as not to appear stuffy? Or because you have a need for acceptance among  the unlettered? But why would you want such acceptance? Note that when 'stuff' is used interchangeably with 'work,' the former term does not acquire the seriousness of the latter, but vice versa: 'stuff' retains its low connotation and 'work' drops out. The net result is linguistic decline and an uptick in 'crudification,' to use an ugly word for an ugly thing.

No doubt there is phony formality. But that is no reason to elide the distinction between the informal and the formal.  A related topic is phony informality. An example of the latter is false intimacy, as when people people address complete strangers using their first names. This is offensive,  because the addresser is seeking to enjoy the advantages of intimacy (e.g., entering into one's trust) without paying the price.

'Ass' is another word gaining a currency that is already excessive. One wonders how far it will go. Will 'ass' become an all-purpose synecdoche? Run your ass off, work your ass to the bone, get your ass out of here . . . ask a girl's father for her ass in marriage? In the expression, 'piece of ass' the reference is not to the buttocks proper, but to an adjoining area. 'Ass' appears subject to a peculiar semantic spread. It can come to mean almost anything, as in 'haul ass,' which means to travel at a high rate of speed. I don't imagine that if one were hauling donkeys one could make very good time. So how on earth did this expression arise? (I had teenage friends who could not refer to a U-Haul trailer except as a U-Haul Ass trailer.)

Or consider that to have one's 'ass in a sling' is to be sad or dejected.   Here, 'ass' extends even unto a person's mood. Robert Hendrickson (Encyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins, p. 36) suggests that 'ass in  a sling' is an extension of 'arm in a sling.' May be, but how does that get us from the buttocks to a mental state? I was disappointed to find a lacuna where Hendrickson should have had an entry on 'haul ass.'

'Ass' seems especially out of place in scholarly journals unless the reference is to some such donkey as Buridan's ass, or some such bridge as the pons asinorum, 'bridge of asses.' The distinguished philosopher Richard M. Gale, in a piece in Philo (Spring-Summer 2003, p. 132) in which he responds to critics, says near the outset that ". . . my aim is not to cover my ass. . . ." Well, I'm glad to hear it, but perhaps he should also tell us that he has no intention of 'sucking up' to his critics either.

In On the Nature and Existence of God (1991), Gale wonders why anyone would "screw around" with the cosmological argument if Kant is right that it depends on the ontological argument. The problem here is not  just that 'screw around' is slang, or that it has a sexual connotation, but that it is totally inappropriate in the context of a discussion of the existence/nonexistence of God. The latter is no joking matter, no mere plaything of donnish Spielerei. If God exists, everything is different; ditto if God does not exist. The nonexistence of God is not like the nonexistence of an angry unicorn on the far side of the moon, or the nonexistence of Russell's celestial teapot. As Nietzsche appreciated (Genealogy of Morals, Third Essay, sec. 27), the death of God is the death of truth. But to prove that Nietzsche was right about this would require a long article or a short book. One nice thing about a blog post is that one can just stop when the going gets tough by pleading the inherent constraints of the genre.  Which is what I will now do.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Some Christmas Tunes

Leon Redbone and Dr. John, Frosty the Snowman
Beach Boys, Little St. Nick.  A rarely heard alternate version.
Ronettes, Sleigh Ride
Elvis Presley, Blue Christmas
Charles Brown, Please Come Home for Christmas
Wanda Jackson and the Continentals, Merry Christmas Baby
Chuck Berry, Run Rudolph Run
Eric Clapton, Cryin' Christmas Tears
Judy Collins, Silver Bells
Ry Cooder, Christmas in Southgate
Bob Dylan, Do You Hear What I Hear?

Who could possibly follow Dylan's growl except

Tom Waits, Silent Night.  Give it a chance.  

What Ever Happened to Bernie Goetz?

Bernard Goetz, mild-mannered electronics nerd, looked like an easy mark, a slap job.  And so he got slapped around, thrown through plate glass windows, mugged and harrassed.  He just wanted to be left alone to tinker in his basement.  One day  he decided not to take it any more and acquired a .38 'equalizer.'  And so the black punks who demanded money of him on the New York subway in December of '84 paid the price to the delight of conservatives and the consternation of liberals. To the former he became a folk hero, to the latter a 'racist.'  It was a huge story back then.  One of the miscreants, James Ramseur, has been found dead of an apparent drug overdose.

Ramseur was freed from prison last year after serving 25 years for a rape, according to NBC NewYork.com. He was one of four black teens shot by Goetz on a train on Dec. 22, 1984, in a shooting that earned Goetz the nickname of "subway vigilante" by city newspapers.

Meanwhile Goetz, 64, flourishes and runs a store called "Vigilante Electronics."

A heart-warming story on this, the eve of Christmas Eve.

The Overeducated

I once had a graduate student with whom I became friends. Ned Flynn, to give him a name, one day told me that after he finished high school he  wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and get a job with the railroad. His mother, however, wanted something 'better' for her son.   She wanted him to go to college, which he did, in the desultory  fashion of many. He ended up declaring a major in psychology and graduating. After spending some time in a monastery, perhaps also at  the instigation of his Irish Catholic mother, and still not knowing quite what  to do with himself, he was accepted into an M.A. program in  philosophy, which is where I met him. After goofing around for several more years, he took a job as a social worker, a job which did not suit him. Last I saw him he was in his mid-thirties and pounding nails.

His complaint to me was that, had he followed his natural bent, he would have had fifteen or so years of job seniority with the railroad, a good paycheck, and a house half paid for. Instead, he wasted years   on studies for which he had no real inclination, and no real talent.  He had no discernible interest in the life of the mind, and like most  working class types could not take it seriously. If you are from the working class, you will know what I mean: 'real' work must involve  grunting and sweating and schlepping heavy loads. Those who work on oil rigs or in the building trades do real work.  Reading, writing, and thinking are activities deemed effete and not quite real. When my  mother saw me reading books, she would sometimes tell me to go outside and do something. That use of 'do' betrayed her working class values.  What she didn't realize was that by reading all those fancy books I  was putting myself in a position where I could live by my wits and avoid the schlepping and grunting. Of course, the purpose of the life of the mind is not to avoid grunt work, with which I have some acquaintance, but to live a truly human life, whether one fills one's belly from it or not.

Overeducation' is perhaps not the right word for cases like my former student Ned. Strictly speaking, one cannot be overeducated since there  is and can be no end to true education. The word is from the Latin  e-ducere, to draw out, and there can be no end to the process of actualizing the potential of a mind with an aptitude for learning.  Perhaps the right word is 'over-credentialed.' It is clear that what most people in pursuit of 'higher education' want is not an education, strictly speaking, but a credential that will gain them admittance to a certain social and/or economic status. 'Education as most people  use it nowadays is a euphemism for a ticket to success, where the latter is defined in terms of money and social position.

Beckwith, Hitch, and the Foundations of Morality

Here.  Excerpt:

. . . [Christopher] Hitchens writes that he and other atheists “believe with certainty that an ethical life can be lived without religion,” thus implying that he and others have direct and incorrigible acquaintance with a natural moral law that informs their judgments about what counts as an ethical life.

But to speak of a natural moral law – a set of abstract, immaterial, unchanging principles of human conduct that apply to all persons in all times and in all places – seems oddly out of place in the universe that Hitchens claimed we occupy, a universe that is at bottom a purposeless vortex of matter, energy, and scientific laws that eventually spit out human beings.

Right.  It is easy to confuse two very different questions, and Sam Harris, one of the Four Horsemen of the New Atheism, does confuse them as I argue here. 

Q1. Given some agreed-upon moral code, are people who profess some version of theism more 'moral,' i.e., more likely to live in accordance with the agreed-upon code, than those who profess some version of atheism?

However it be answered, (Q1) is not philosophically interesting, except as part of the run-up to a genuine philosophical question, though it is of interest sociologically.   Suppose we grant, arguendo, that the answer to (Q1) is in the negative.  Now contrast (Q1) with

Q2. Given some agreed-upon moral code, are atheists justified in adhering to the code?

The agreed-upon code is one that most or many atheists and theists would accept. Thus don't we all object to child molestation, wanton killing of human beings, rape, theft, lying, and swindling in the manner of Madoff? Even swindlers object to being swindled!  And in objecting to these actions, we mean our objections to be more than merely subjectively valid. When our property is stolen or a neighbor murdered, we consider that an objective wrong has been done. And when the murderer is apprehended, tried, and convicted we judge that something objectively right has been done. Let's not worry about the details or the special cases: killing in self-defense, abortion, etc. Just imagine some minimal objectively binding code that all or most of us, theists and atheists alike, accept.

What (Q2) asks about is the foundation or basis of the agreed-upon objectively binding moral code. This is not a sociological or any kind of empirical question. Nor is it a question in normative ethics. The question is not what we ought to do and leave undone, for we are assuming that we already have a rough answer to that. The question is meta-ethical: what does morality rest on, if on anything?

Beckwith is quite right that the naturalist/physicalist/materialist is going to have a hard time justifying his adherence to the moral prescriptions and proscriptions that most of us, theist and atheist alike, accept.  I would argue that a naturalist/physicalist/materialist ought to be a moral nihilist, and that when these types fight shy of moral nihilism that merely shows an inability or unwillingness on their part to appreciate the logical consequences of their own doctrine, or else some sort of psychological compartmentalization. 

I once knew a hard-assed logical positivist who during the work week practiced his positivism, but on Sundays attended Eastern Orthodox religious services.  He avoided cognitive dissonance by compartmentalizing.

The compartmentalized life is the suboptimal life.  Seek existential unity and consistency.

The Limits of Secularism

Call it synchronicity if you like, but a Port Angeles reader points me to this article by Rabbi Lord Sacks which complements the article by Theroux to which I linked in the previous post.  Excerpt:

So there it is: the evidence that intellectuals have systematically misunderstood the nature of religion and religious observance and have constantly been thinking, for the better part of three centuries, that religion was about to disappear, yet it hasn't. In certain parts of the world it is growing. The 21st century is likely to be a more religious century than the 20th. It is interesting that religion is particularly growing in places like China where the economy is growing.

We must ask ourselves why this is, because it is actually very odd indeed. Think about it: every function that was once performed by religion can now be done by something else. In other words, if you want to explain the world, you don't need Genesis; you have science. If you want to control the world, you don't need prayer; you have technology. If you want to prosper, you don't necessarily seek God's blessing; you have the global economy. You want to control power, you no longer need prophets; you have liberal democracy and elections.

If you're ill, you don't need a priest; you can go to a doctor. If you feel guilty, you don't have to confess; you can go to a psychotherapist instead. If you're depressed, you don't need faith; you can take a pill. If you still need salvation, you can go to today's cathedrals, the shopping centres of Britain — or as one American writer calls them, weapons of mass consumption. Religion seems superfluous, redundant, de trop. Why then does it survive?

My answer is simple. Religion survives because it answers three questions that every reflective person must ask. Who am I? Why am I here? How then shall I live? We will always ask those three questions because homo sapiens is the meaning-seeking animal, and religion has always been our greatest heritage of meaning. You can take science, technology, the liberal democratic state and the market economy as four institutions that characterise modernity, but none of these four will give you an answer to those questions that humans ask.

I came to a similar conclusion in Why Science Will Never Put Religion Out of Business.

Happy Hanukkah

Jewish Philosophers.  Jewish Chess Players.  Other lists are accessible via these links.  Roots of Jew hatred?  One is undoubtedly envy.  Jews have made contributions to culture far in excess of their numbers.  No wonder they are so hated in the Muslim, and not onlyin the Muslim, world.  And you say you don't believe that man is a fallen being?  I would argue that failure to perceive one's fallen status is part of the Fall.  I will be coming back to this topic.  For now I point out that even Michael Ruse takes it seriously, to his credit, and to the displeasure of the very bright boneheads of the New Atheism, one of whom has recently passed from our midst.

I found no lists for Jewish Hikers or Jewish Outdoorsmen.  Does that help explain Peter Lupu's and Grandpatzer Ed Yetman's utter incomprehension of  my hiking and backpacking and running activities?  It is not only that they would never do such a thing; they express astonishment that anyone should want to do such a thing.

I've heard chess referred to as Jewish athletics. 

Of Christograms and Political Correctness

Monterey Tom liked my 'Xmas' post and sends this:

Many Catholic artifacts related to worship are marked with the Roman letters IHS, which is a partial Latin transliteration of the Greek form of 'Jesus' and can also be read as an acronym for the Latin Iesus Hominum Salvator (Jesus Savior of Man). However, some have construed the IHS to be an acronym for "In this Sign", as in "In this sign you shall conquer." Some who were desirous of defending the judgements of the Obama administration used that last and incorrect notion to justify covering all of the IHS images at Georgetown University two years ago on the ground that Muslims would see  the IHS as a symbol of Christian aggression. My reaction to that  claim is that the event presented the U.S. government with what educators now call a "teachable moment." The only problem being, I suspect,  that no one in the White House gang actually knew the true meaning of the letters and probably shared the Muslim belief that the Crusades were wars of aggression aimed at forcefully converting the peace-loving Muslims and enriching the pope.

Although it is true that 'IHS' is, as Tom writes, "a partial Latin transliteration of of the Greek form of  'Jesus'," it is not true that it abbreviates Iesus Hominum Salvator, at least according to the Catholic Encyclopedia:  "IHS was sometimes wrongly understood as "Jesus Hominum (or Hierosolymae) Salvator", i.e. Jesus, the Saviour of men (or of Jerusalem=Hierosolyma)."

Being a pedant and a quibbler (but in the very  best senses of these terms!), I was all set to quibble with Monterey Tom's use of 'acronym' in connection with 'IHS.'  After all, you cannot pronounce it like a word in the way you can pronounce 'laser' and 'Gestapo' which are clearly acronyms.  But it all depends on how exactly we define 'acronym,' a question I'm not in the mood for.  The Wikipedia article looks good, however.  I am tempted to say that, while every acronym is an abbreviation, not every abbreviation is an acronym.  'IHS' is an abbreviation.

Acronym or not, 'IHS'  is a Christogram, and sometimes a monogram.  As it just now occurred in my text, 'IHS' is not a monogram but a mere abbreviation.  But again it depends on what exactly a monogram is.  According to the Wikipedia monogram article, "A monogram is a motif made by overlapping or combining two or more letters or other graphemes to form one symbol."  Clear examples:

Chi-rhoIHS monogram

In the first monogram one can discern alpha, omega, chi, and rho.  The 'chi' as I said last post is the 'X' is 'Xmas.' 

From pedantry to political correctness and a bit of anti-Pee Cee polemic.  To think that 'IHS' abbreviates In hoc signes vincit shows a contemptible degree of ignorance, but what is worse is to worry about a possible Muslim misreading of the abbreviation.  Only a namby-pamby Pee-Cee dumbass liberal could sink to that level.  That is down there with the supine foolishness of those librul handwringers who wailed, in the wake of 9/11, "What did we do to offend them?"

If hypersensitive Muslims take offense at 'IHS,' that is their problem, not ours.  There is such a thing as taking  inappropriate offense.  See Of Black Holes and Political Correctness: If You Take Offense, is That My Fault?

As for Georgetown's caving to the White House demand, that is contemptible and disgusting, but so typical.  To paraphrase Dennis Prager, there is no one so spineless in all the world as a university administrator.  They should have said loud and clear "Absolutely not!"

Merry CHRISTmas!

‘Merry Xmas’

When I was eight years old or so and first took note of the phrase 'Merry Xmas,' my piety was offended by what I took to be the removal of 'Christ' from 'Christmas' only to be replaced by the universally recognized symbol for an unknown quantity, 'X.' But it wasn't long before I realized that the 'X' was merely a font-challenged typesetter's attempt at rendering the Greek Chi, an ancient abbreviation for 'Christ.' There is therefore nothing at all offensive in the expression 'Xmas.' Year after year, however, certain ignorant Christians who are old enough to know better make the mistake that I made when I was eight and corrected when I was ten.

It just now occurs to me that 'Xmas' may be susceptible of a quasi-Tillichian reading. Paul Tillich is famous for his benighted definition of 'God' as 'whatever is one's ultimate concern.' Well, take the 'X' in 'Xmas' as a variable the values of which are whatever one wants to celebrate at this time of year. So for some, 'Xmas' will amount to Solsticemas, for burglars Swagmas, for materialists Lootmas, for gluttons Foodmas, for inebriates Hoochmas, and for ACLU extremists Antichristianitymas.

A reader suggests some further constructions:

For those who love the capitol of the Czech Republic: Pragmas. For Dutch Reformed theologians of Frisian extraction who think Christmas is silly: Hoekemas. For Dutch Reformed philosophy professors of Frisian extraction who like preserves on their toast: Jellemas. For fans of older British sci-fi flicks: Quatermas. For those who buy every special seasonal periodical they can get their hands on: Magmas. One could probably multiply such examples ad nauseum, so I won't.

How could an ACLU bonehead object to 'Xmas' so construed? No doubt he would find a way.

A while back I quipped that "Aporeticians qua aporeticians do not celebrate Christmas. They celebrate Enigmas."  My man Hodges shot back:  "But they do celebrate 'X-mas'! (Or maybe they 'cerebrate' it?)"

Merry Chimas to all, and to all a good night.

The ‘Is’ of Identity and the ‘Is’ of Predication

Bill Clinton may have brought the matter to national attention, but philosophers have long appreciated that much can ride on what the meaning of 'is' is. 

Edward of London has a very good post in which he raises the question whether the standard analytic distinction between the 'is' of identity and the 'is' of predication is but fallout from an antecedent decision to adhere to an absolute distinction between names and predicates.  If the distinction is absolute, as Frege and his epigoni maintain, then names cannot occur in predicate position, and a distinction between the two uses of 'is' is the consequence.  But what if no such absolute distinction is made?  Could one then dispense with the standard analytic distinction?  Or are there reasons independent of Frege's function-argument analysis of propositions for upholding the distinction between the two uses of 'is'?

To illustrate the putative distinction, consider

1. George Orwell is Eric Blair

and

2. George Orwell is famous.

Both sentences feature a token of 'is.'  Now ask yourself: is 'is' functioning in the same way in both sentences? The standard analytic line is that 'is' functions differently in the two sentences.  In (1) it expresses identity; in (2) it expresses predication. Identity, among other features, is symmetrical; predication is not.  That suffices to distinguish the two uses of 'is.'  'Famous' is predicable of Orwell, but Orwell is not predicable of  'famous.'  But if Blair is Orwell, then Orwell is Blair.

Now it is clear, I think, that if one begins with the absolute name-predicate distinction, then the other distinction is also required. For if  'Eric Blair' in (1) cannot be construed as a predicate, then surely the 'is' in (1) does not express predication.  The question I am raising, however, is whether the distinction between the two uses of 'is' arises ONLY IF  one distinguishes absolutely and categorially between names and predicates.

Fred Sommers seems to think so.  Referencing the example 'The morning star is Venus,' Sommers  writes, "Clearly it is only after one has adopted the syntax that prohibits the predication of proper names that one is forced to read 'a is b' dyadically and to see in it a sign of identity." (The Logic of Natural Language, Oxford 1982, p. 121, emphasis added)  The contemporary reader will of course wonder how else 'a is b' could be read if it is not read as expressing a dyadic relation between a and b.  How the devil could the 'is' in 'a is b' be read as a copula?

This is what throws me about the scholastic stuff peddled by Ed and others.  In 'Orwell is famous' they seem to be wanting to say that 'Orwell' and 'famous' refer to the same thing.  But what could that mean? 

First of all, 'Orwell' and 'famous' do not have the same extension: there are many famous people, but only  one Orwell.  But even if Orwell were the only famous person, Orwell would not be identical to the only famous person.  Necessarily, Orwell is Orwell; but it is not the case that, necessarily, Orwell is the only famous person, even if it is true that Orwell is the only famous person, which he  isn't.

If you tell me that only 'Orwell' has a referent, but not 'famous,' then I will reply that that is nominalism for the crazy house.  Do you really want to say or imply that Orwell is famous because in English we apply the predicate 'famous' to him?  That's ass-backwards or bass-ackwards, one.  We correctly apply 'famous' to him because he is, in reality, famous.  (That his fame is a social fact doesn't  make it language-dependent.)  Do you really want to say or imply that, were we speaking German, Orwell would not be famous but beruehmt?  'Famous' is a word of English while beruehmt is its German equivalent.  The property, however, belongs to neither language.  If you say there are no properties, only predicates, then that smacks of the loony bin.

Suppose 'Orwell' refers to the concrete individual Orwell, and 'famous' refers to the property, being-famous.  Then you get for your trouble a different set of difficulties.  I don't deny them!  But these difficulties do not show that the scholastic view is in the clear.

This pattern repeats itself throughout philosophy.  I believe I have shown that materialism about the mind faces insuperable objections, and that only those in the grip of naturalist ideology could fail to feel their force.   But it won't do any good to say that substance dualism also faces insuperable objections.  For it could be that both are false/incoherent.  In fact, it could be that every theory proposed (and proposable by us) in solution of  every philosophical problem is false/incoherent. 

Reinhardt Grossmann (1931-2010)

An obituary by his Indiana University colleague, Nino Cocchiarella. 

"Grossmann was well known among his colleagues for his eagerness to discuss philosophical problems and to engage in sustained debate on fundamental positions."  Sounds right.  When I, a stranger, wrote Grossmann sometime in the '80s and posed some questions for him, he responded in a thorough and friendly manner.  May peace be upon him.

Here is another obituary  by Javier Cumpa and Erwin Tegtmeier.  It ends with a tantalizing reference to the book Grossmann was working on when felled by a massive stroke: Facts.  I hope Grossmann's literary executors make the manuscript available.

The summer of '84 found me in Bloomington, Indiana.  Thanks to the largesse of the American taxpayer, I was a 'seminarian' in Hector-Neri Castaneda's NEH Summer Seminar.  One afternoon we repaired to a bar where we encountered Professor Grossmann.  He told a story about the 19th century  German philosopher Kuno Fischer, who was a big name in his day and a professor at Heidelberg.  One day some workmen were making a racket outside his apartment.  This incensed the good professor and he warned the workmen: "If you don't stop making this noise, I will leave Heidelberg!"  The workmen stopped.  Grossmann remarked that if Quine were  to have lodged a similar complaint, the workmen  would have laughed and bid him goodbye.