It has been over a month since my last post, and for this I apologize. I doubt if I will be posting any more frequently in the near future as I am getting married on August 2 and moving from Philadelphia to Los Angeles immediately after the honeymoon. I'm sure the Internet will get by just fine without me.
Right now, however, I do have a bit of time, and I want to discuss an argument for phenomenalism about the physical world. When I wrote a while back about the idealist strategy, I said that the second step was to "argue that our physical statements - both ordinary statements about physical objects and statements about the discipline of physics - are best construed as talking about perception." What I want to do here is to unpack this statement. First, let's examine what the argument is supposed to do, and then we'll look at the argument as it appears in a brief section of Berkeley's Three Dialogues.
This piece of the argument is a reductio against representative realism. The first step of the idealist strategy is supposed to eliminate direct realism (the view that the very same things we experience in sense perception exist mind-independently and are known by us directly). I will assume this has already been accomplished. This leaves representative realism, the view that our perception are representations of mind-independent reality.
There are effectively two flavors of representative realism, both of which are, I think, fairly popular among philosophers today. The first is causal representation, which claims that our mental states come to represent things in the world in virtue of having been caused by them. This view has been supported by Fred Dretske. It has some problems which many philosophers have tried to shore up by a variety of strategies. The most important problem for it is the possibility of misrepresentation - e.g., how can we mistake a cow for a horse (from a distance, in the dark) if horse-thoughts represent horses precisely because they are caused by horses (but this one was caused by a cow)? I will not dwell on this objection, but there is a vast literature on it.
The second flavor is primitive or mysterian representation. This view takes representation as a primitive -i.e. one of the fundamental concepts of the theory, which does not admit of further analysis. The main objections to this view have to do with (1) whether you can adequately define the formal properties of representation in a coherent fashion, and (2) whether representation makes a good primitive. The latter is probably the most important, but the question of what makes something a good or bad primitive is extremely complex.
For the idealist's purposes, what matters is that when I perceive a table, there are two things: the 'real' table, and my perception or representation of the table. These are not the same thing. This much is conceded by the representative realist. It is customary to refer to the mental tokening which represents the table as a 'table', after the way we discuss words in philosophy of language, but this is going to get really confusing in this particular argument, so from here on out I will use tablei to refer to mind-independent table objects, tablem to refer to mind-dependent table-representations, and 'table' to refer to the English word spelled t-a-b-l-e. (I'm not sure how much less confusing that will be, but I'm hoping it won't be too difficult to follow.)
Suppose the phenomenalist grants, for the sake of argument, that there is such a thing as a tablei and that, under ordinary circumstances, there is a one-to-one correlation between tablesi and tablesm. Now listen to Berkeley:
Ask the gardener, why he thinks yonder cherry-tree exists in the garden, and he shall tell you, because he sees and feels it; in a word, because he perceives it by his senses. Ask him, why he thinks an orange-tree not to be there, and he shall tell you, because he does not perceive it. What he perceives by sense, that he terms a real being, and saith it is, or exists; but that which is not perceivable, the same, he saith, hath no being. (Three Dialogues Between Hylas and Philonous, 234)
The realist needs to argue that 'table' refers to the tablei. Now, Berkeley's principal target is Locke, and this argument immediately overcomes Locke. Consider:
Let us then suppose the mind to be, as we say, white paper, void of all characters, without any ideas; how comes it to be furnished? ... To this I answer, in one word, from experience ... Our observation employed either about external, sensible objects; or about the internal operations of our minds, perceived and reflected on by ourselves, is that, which supplies our understandings with all the materials of thinking. (Essay Concerning Human Understanding, 2.1.2, emphasis original)
More recently the cause has been taken up by Kripke:
When I refer to heat, I refer not to an internal sensation that someone may have, but to an external phenomenon which we perceive through the sense of feeling; it produces a characteristic sensation which we call the sensation of heat. Heat is the motion of molecules. (Naming and Necessity, 129)
The phenomenalist wants to argue that this is not a good analysis of 'heat'. Heati isn't a sensation. It can't be felt. If you ask the gardener to define 'cherry tree', he will describe a cherry treem: something that is seen, felt, smelled, etc. If you ask an ordinary person to define 'table', she will describe something that looks and feels (and therefore is) flat, that you can set objects on, etc. No one who has not been reading Aristotle, Locke, and friends will say anything about a "material substratum." No one will say "the object that causes my table perceptions." The table doesn't cause something to feel flat, the table itself feels flat.
Physicalists tend to be very adamant about believing only in the objects of their senses, but then begin describing things that can't be sensed at all, and claiming that those are the objects of their senses. If the phenomenalist can make this case that physical-talk is best understood as referring to objectsm, then matter will be superfluous to metaphysical explanations of the world we experience. Furthermore, if Kripke's "pass-through" reference fails, then his theory will make it impossible to refer to objectsi, for the same reason it is impossible for Putnam's brains in vats to wonder whether they are brains in vats.
Let me begin with a reminder: be sure to get your posts in for the 67th Philosophers' Carnival by tomorrow (Saturday) midnight (Eastern time), and remember that the theme is idealism. I've received many good posts already (probably more than I'll be able to include), but only a handful are idealism-themed. Having said that, let me begin my own idealism-themed post.
In my paper "The Semantics of Sense Perception in Berkeley" (which I never tire of linking to, because it is much better thought out, developed, and argued than the mostly half-baked stuff I post on this blog), I spend a considerable space of time discussing the question of where to locate the semantic content in Berkeley's "universal language of the Author of Nature." The problem which I try to address there is that virtually all of the things that look based on the broad outlines of Berkeley's theory as if they might be semantic relations are explicitly asserted to be syntactic* relations if one closely examines the particular texts where Berkeley discusses the structure of the language. In this post, I want to discuss the structure of the language (its "grammar" in the broadest possible sense) and the possible correspondence between problems in linguistics and problems in the metaphysics of the material world (and philosophy of science). This isn't necessarily a tight interpretation of Berkeley's text; rather, it is my reflection on how Berkeley's theory would work if true. I do think it is clear that the analogy (if it is merely an analogy and not, as Berkeley claims, an identity) between language and the phenomenal world is close enough for linguistic insights to be usefully applied to metaphysical problems (which would be a great thing, since linguistics is making a lot more progress than metaphysics). I've been thinking about writing this idea up in a paper, so I would very much like to get comments or criticisms on it. I will proceed by building language from the ground up, and in the process building up a picture of the structure of the phenomenal world.
I have not argued that this approach actually works, but I think that it is clear that there is at least some degree of analogy here. I hope to do future research into just how far the analogy can be carried, and whether it can perhaps be carried even to the point of identity, as Berkeley attempts to do.
*Berkeley's term is "grammatical;" see endnote 20 of the online version of my paper, which was deleted from the Religious Studies version due to space constraints.
Commentators have long recognized the existence of two distinct strains of thought in Berkeley's discussions of how our perceptions give rise to something that is properly called a world. According to the phenomenalist strain, the world is quite simply composed of perception and it becomes a world, rather than simply an unrelated collection of perceptions, by means of the orderliness with which God causes perceptions. According to the Platonist strain, the world (and each object in it) has an archetype in the divine mind and our perceptions are perceptions of the world because what we perceive is an "ectype" of that archetype. John Foster has argued that Berkeley is a reductive phenomenalist in the Treatise on the Principles of Human Knowledge, which he published in 1710, but that by the publication of the Three Dialogues Between Hylas and Philonous in 1713 Berkeley has become a Platonist (The Case for Idealism, pp. 28-32). However, Berkeley cannot adopt the Platonist view so strictly as Foster tries to make him: to do so would undermine his refutation of skepticism. Berkeley needs to affirm that there is a sense in which our perceptions are the world so that we cannot be mistaken about it. Berkeley explicitly affirms this in Principles 87: "Colour, figure, motion, extension and the like, considered only as so many sensations in the mind, are perfectly known, there being nothing in them which is not perceived. But if they are looked on as notes or images, referred to things or archetypes existing without the mind, then are we involved all in scepticism." Furthermore, despite this statement, the language of archetypes as it is used in the Dialogues is also used in the Principles: "whoever shall reflect, and take care to understand what he says, will, if I mistake not, acknowledge that all sensible qualities are alike sensations, and alike real; that where the extension is, there is the colour too, to wit, in his mind, and that their archetypes can exist only in some other mind..." (99). Foster does point to Principles 48 as showing that the idea of archetypes in the divine mind is regarded as a possibility in the Principles, but he claims that "in the Principles, the role of God as a perceiver of physical objects is left as a mere possibility and on to which Berkeley seems to attach little importance ... But in his later work, the Three Dialogues, the preceptive role of God takes on a new significance." (p. 28) Be that as it may, the presence of the doctrine in the Principles would seem to be indicative that Berkeley does not regard the two models as mutually exclusive in the way that Foster does. Finally, in Dialogues 175ff. Berkeley argues again for his doctrine that the esse of physical things is percipi. So Foster's view must be rejected and we must find a way to reconcile the two views.
I have just finished reading "Berkeley's Christian Neoplatonism, Archetypes, and Divine Ideas" by Stephen H. Daniel (Journal of the History of Philosophy 39:2 (April 2001): 239-258). This paper is in part an attempt to reconcile these two seemingly opposing views.[1] Readers of this blog can probably predict what I am going to say the solution is. What is the solution to every problem in Berkeley's philosophy? Sense perception as language. Daniel gets to this by rather a roundabout path, investigating Gregory's and Berkeley's accounts of the Trinity and of human minds, but here is his ultimate conclusion:
To the extent that our ideas seem significant or intelligible to ourselves alone, they are ectypes: their existence consists simply in being perceived by a particular mind. An archetype is the meaning of that idea and all others like it as determined by their place in the sequence of ideas that inscribes history. A divine idea is God's active comprehension of a thing in an eternal communicative relation to all other things ... and, as such, identifies the mind of God as a matrix of discursive exchange. By learning the connections of ideas in history - that is, by "endeavoring to understand those signs instituted by the Author of Nature" (P[rinciples] 66) - we learn about ourselves and "the nature of things" (D[ialogues] 245). For all practical purposes, this amounts to nothing other than the contemplation of archetypes. Through such contemplation, we recognize oursleves not as substances distinct from God but as participants in the divine discourse. (p. 258)
I want to state the same thing a little differently: the world is a language. Words in a language have meaning independent of what each individual speaker hears or says or thinks, but not independent of what all individual speakers hear or say or think. The structure of a language - both in terms of syntax and in terms of morphology and lexicography - arises from the words and thoughts of individual speakers and is not anything over and above them in terms of existence. Nevertheless, we speak of a grammar and a lexicon for a language as some sort of abstract entities - like perfect "archetypes" of the language!
In the case of the divine language, God is privileged as a speaker. The rest of us "understand" and "speak" the language in more or less the way a domesticated dog "understands" and "speaks" English when it responds to what the humans around it say by, for instance, jumping up excitedly at the word "walk." Or perhaps a more apt comparison would be to a gorilla who can hear English and answer in American sign language. Whatever the case, it is clear that God is the author of the language, and thus creates the grammar and lexicon. As such, it is true both that the world simply is our perception of it and that it is the ectype of an archetype in the divine mind. As Daniel argues, this archetype is not found in God's passive perception - since God is not passive - but in his active will, his will to bring about the world. In this way, Berkeley is both a phenomenalist and a Platonist.
[1] Along the way the paper also argues that Berkeley holds a theory of mind modeled on Gregory of Nyssa's trinitarian theology and which eliminates the need for an immaterial substratum of mind distinct from volition and perception. Daniel finds support for this at Principles 98: "whoever shall go about to ... abstract the existence of a spirit from its cogitation, will, I believe, find it no easy task." I like this proposal since I am often not certain that I understand the meaning of the word "substance." However, I don't understand the proposal very well due to lack of familiarity with Gregory, and, in any case, I don't think it can be Berkeley's view, due to Dialogues 233-234.
The 66th Philosophers' Carnival is coming up this Monday at The Uncredible Hallq. The Philosophers' Carnival is a bi-weekly roundup of blog posts on subjects related to academic philosophy including, but not limited to, metaphysics, epistemology, ethics, political theory, "continental" philosophy and the history of philosophy. Submissions are due online every other Saturday for inclusion in the carnival the following Monday.
Following the Uncredible Carnival 66 this Monday, Philosophers' Carnival 67 will take place here at blog.kennypearce.net on Monday, April 14 (submissions due by Saturday April 12). Some of you may recall that I had previously hosted Philosophers' Carnival 31. The 67th carnival will be focused on the theme of "idealism" - the view that minds and/or their ideas are the fundamental stuff of reality. Posts are invited which argue for or against idealism, which track down the consequences of idealism, or which examine the views of historical idealist philosophers, such as Berkeley, Hegel, Schopenhauer, or Bradley (to name a few). Space permitting, I will include all posts with substantive content related to academic philosophy, but posts related to the theme outlined above are especially welcome and will have pride of place at the top of the page.
If you need some help thinking of something to say about idealism, let me recommend that you read some of my previous posts. For arguments for idealism, see Why Idealism? and The Ontological Economy of Idealism. Also, my more recent post The Idealist Strategy outlines a direction of argument common to most historical idealists (and to the contemporary idealist John Foster). I don't argue against idealism myself (since it's true) but I have dealt with Moorean arguments against it, if only to refute them. Finally, if you have more historical interests you can check my archives on Leibniz, Schopenhauer, and, of course, Berkeley.
Enjoy!
George Berkeley is well known for his critique of matter. By "matter" he means Locke's "material substratum." At the end of the Three Dialogues Between Hylas and Philonous he actually does acknowledge that one might use the word "matter" simply to mean "the stuff of the physical world" (that's not a direct quote) and he doesn't object to this, so he actually isn't opposed to the way the word was used in your physics or chemistry classes, but only to the way it was used in early modern metaphysics.
The critique of matter is tied up in the critique of abstract ideas, and so Berkeley devotes the Introduction to the Treatise on the Principles of Human Knowledge to criticizing abstraction. The alleged faculty of abstraction is one by which we, by considering concrete ideas, are supposed to be able to frame clear and distinct ideas which are nevertheless underspecified. In a well-known passage, quoted several times by Berkeley, Locke writes: "does it not require some pains and skill to form the general idea of a triangle ... for it must be neither oblique, nor rectangle, nor neither equilateral, equicrural, nor scalenon; but all and none of these at once" (Essay Concerning Human Understanding, 4.7.9). This, Berkeley thinks, is nonsense. This alleged "idea" is full of contradictions, and we can form no such thing. Matter, or material substratum, he supposes, is just such a false "idea," as his spokesman, Philonous, points out in the Three Dialogues:
HYLAS. ... when I look on sensible things in another view, considering them as so many modes and qualities, I find it necessary to suppose a material substratum, without which they cannot be conceived to exist.
PHILONOUS. Material substratum call you it? Pray, by which of your senses came you acquainted with that being?
HYLAS. It is not itself sensible; its modes and qualities only being perceived by the senses.
PHILONOUS. I presume then, it was by reflexion and reason you obtained the idea of it.
HYLAS. I do not pretend to any proper positive idea of it. However I conclude it exists, because qualities cannot be conceived to exist without a support.
PHILONOUS. It seems then you have only a relative notion of it, or that you conceive it not otherwise than by conceiving the relation it bears to sensible qualities.
HYLAS. Right.
PHILONOUS. Be pleased therefore to let me know wherein that relation consists.
... [Hylas tries and fails to explain] ...
PHILONOUS. Pray, let me know any sense, literal or not literal, that you understand it in. - How long must I wait for an answer, Hylas?
HYLAS. I declare I know not what to say, I once thought I understood well enough what was meant by matter's supporting accidents. But now the more I think on it, the less can I comprehend it; in short, I find that I know nothing of it.
PHILONOUS. It seems then you have no idea at all, neither relative nor positive of matter; you know neither what it is in itself, nor what relation it bears to accidents.
HYLAS. I acknowledge it.
PHILONOUS. And yet you asserted, that you could not conceive how qualities or accidents should really exist, without conceiving at the same time a material support of them.
HYLAS. I did.
PHILONOUS. That is to say, when you conceive the real existence of qualities, you do withal conceive something which you cannot conceive. (pp. 197-199)
But wait! Elsewhere, Berkeley develops a sophisticated theory of reference that is supposed to give significance to all sorts of words that don't correspond to ideas! Here are selections from Alciphron 7.2, 4-7 (Berkeley's spokesman is Euphranor):
ALCIPHRON. ... Words are signs: they do or should stand for ideas; which so far as they suggest they are significant. But words that suggest no ideas are insignificant. He who annexeth a clear idea to every word he makes use of speaks sense; but where such ideas are wanting, the speaker utters nonsense. In order therefore to know whether any man's speech be senseless and insignificant, we have nothing to do but lay aside the words, and consider the ideas suggested by them.
...
Grace is the main point in the Christian dispensation; nothing is oftener mentioned or more considered throughout the New Testament; wherein it is represented as somewhat of a very particular kind, distinct from anything revealed to the Jews, or known by the light of nature ... Hence Christianity is styled the covenant or dispensation of grace ... What is the clear and distinct idea marked by the word grace? I presume a man may know the bare meaning of this term, without going into the depth of all those learned inquiries. This surely is an easy matter, provided there is an idea annexed to such term. And if there is not, it can be neither the subject of a rational dispute, nor the object of real faith ... Grace taken in the vulgar sense, either for beauty or favour, I can easily understand. But when it denotes an active, vital, ruling principle, influencing and operating on the mind of man, distinct from every natural power of motive, I profess myself altogether unable to understand it, or frame any distinct idea of it; and therefore I cannot assent to any proposition concerning it, nor consequently have any faith about it: and it is a self-evident truth, that God obligeth no man to impossibilities...EUPHRANOR. ... Words, it is agreed, are signs: it may not therefore be amiss to examine the use of other signs, in order to know that of words. Counters, for instance, at a card-table are used, not for their own sake, but only as signs substituted for money, as words are for ideas. Say now, Alciphron, is it necessary every time these counters are used throughout the progress of a game, to frame an idea of the distinct sum or value that each represents?
ALCIPHRON. By no means: it is sufficient the players at first agree on their respective values, and at last substitute those values in their stead.
EUPHRANOR. And in casting up a sum, where the figures stand for pounds, shillings, and pence, do you think it necessary, throughout the whole progress of the operation, in each step to form ideas of pounds, shillings, and pence?
ALCIPHRON. I do not; it will suffice if in the conclusion those figures direct our actions with respect to things.
EUPHRANOR. From hence it seems to follow, that words may not be insignificant, although they should not, every time they are used, excite the ideas they signify in our minds; it being sufficient that we have it in our power to substitute things or ideas for their signs when there is occasion. It seems also to follow, that there may be another use of words besides that of marking and suggesting distinct ideas, to wit, the influencing our conduct and actions; which may be done either by forming rules for us to act by, or by raising certain passions, dispositions, and emotions in our minds. A discourse, therefore, that directs how to act or excites to the doing or forbearance of an action may, it seems, be useful and significant, although the words whereof it is composed should not bring each a distinct idea into our minds.
ALCIPHRON. It seems so.
EUPHRANOR. Pray tell me, Alciphron, is not an idea altogether inactive?
ALCIPHRON. It is.
EUPHRANOR. An agent therefore, an active mind, or spirit cannot be an idea, or like an idea. Whence it should seem to follow that those words which denote an active principle, soul, or spirit do not, in a strict and proper sense, stand for ideas. And yet they are not insignificant neither; since I understand what is signified by the term I, or myself, or know what it means, although it be no idea, nor like an idea, but that which thinks, and wills, and apprehends ideas, and operates about them. Certainly it must be allowed that we have some notion, that we understand or know what is meant by, the terms myself, will, memory, love, hate, and so forth; although to speak exactly, these words do not suggest so many distinct ideas.
ALCIPHRON. What would you infer from this?
EUPHRANOR. What hath been inferred already - that words may be significant, although they do not stand for ideas. The contrary whereof having been presumed seems to produce the doctrine of abstract ideas.
...
EUPHRANOR: ... But, to come to your own instance, let us examine what idea we can frame of force abstracted from body, motion, and outward sensible effects. For myself I do not find that I have or can have any such idea.
ALCIPHRON. Surely everyone knows what is meant by force.
EUPHRANOR. And yet I question whether everyone can form a distinct idea of force. Let me entreat you, Alciphron, be not amused by terms: lay aside the word force, and exclude very other thing from your thoughts, and then see what precise idea you have of force.
ALCIPHRON. Force is that in bodies which produces motion and other sensible effects.
EUPHRANOR. Is it then something distinct from those effects.
ALCIPHRON. It is.
EUPHRANOR. Be pleased now to exclude the consideration of its subject and effects, and contemplate force itself in its own precise idea.
ALCIPHRON. I profess I find it no such easy matter.
EUPHRANOR. Take your own advice, and shut your eyes to assist your meditation. Upon this, Alciphron, having closed his eyes and mused a few minutes, declared he could make nothing of it.
...
EUPHRANOR. But, notwithstanding all this, it is certain there are many speculations, reasoning, and disputes, refined subtleties and nice distinctions about this same force ... Upon the whole, therefore, may we not pronounce that - excluding body, time, space, motion, and all its sensible measures and effects - we shall find it as difficult to form an idea of force as of grace?
ALCIPHRON. I do not know what to think of it.EUPHRANOR. And yet, I presume, you allow there are very evident propositions and theorems relating to force, which contain useful truths ... And if, by considering this doctrine of force, men arrive at the knowledge of many inventions in mechanics, and are taught to frame engines, by means of which things difficult and otherwise impossible may be performed ; and if the same doctrine which is so beneficial here below serveth also as a key to the celestial motions; shall we deny that it is of use, either in practice or speculation, because we have no distinct idea of force? Or that which we admit with regard to force, upon what pretence can we deny concerning grace?
the algebraic mark, which denotes the root of a negative square, hath its use in logistic operations, although it be impossible to form an idea of any such quantity. And what is true of algebraic signs is also true of words or language, modern algebra being in fact a more short, apposite, and artificial sort of language, and it being possible to express by words at length, though less conveniently, all the steps of an algebraical process.
So how does the critique of matter proceed? You may have noticed in the passage from the Three Dialogues that Philonous is careful to distinguish between a "positive idea" and a "relative notion." Positive ideas are the "distinct ideas" of the Alciphron. These are limited to what we can perceive or imagine. Relative notions are concepts like the imaginary number i. We don't have a "distinct idea" of i, but we have a theorem: i2=-1. This establishes a relation (hence "relative") between i and a real number, and thus allows us to apply the rules of algebra to get back to real numbers, which we understand. Berkeley believes that we can do this with words like "grace" and "force," but Hylas fails to do even this with "matter." A relative notion of matter actually might be something like "that which has mass and takes of space," which is what we learned in physics and chemistry classes, but this, according to Berkeley, is meaningful only because it actually relates to our perceptions. Therefore, such a definition does no good to someone arguing for a materialist metaphysics.
The objective method [i.e. the method of philosophy which starts from the object and proceeds to the subject] can be developed most consistently and carried farthest when it appears as materialism proper. It regards matter, and with it time and space, as existing absolutely, and passes over the relation to the subject in which alone all this exists. Further, it lays hold of the law of causality as the guiding line on which it tries to progress, taking it to be a self-existing order or arrangement of things, veritas aeterna, and consequently passing over the understanding, in which and for which alone causality is. It tries to find the first and simplest state of matter, and then to develop all others from it, ascending from mere mechanisms to chemistry, to polarity, to the vegetable and animal kingdoms. Supposing this were successful, the last link of the chain would be animal sensibility, that is to say knowledge; which, in consequence, would then appear as a mere modification of matter, a state of matter produced by causality. Now if we had followed materialism thus far with clear notions, then, having reached its highest point, we should experience a sudden fit of inexhaustible laughter of the Olympians. As though waking from a dream, we should all at once become aware that its final result, produced so laboriously, namely knowledge, was already presupposed as the indispensable condition at the very first starting-point, at mere matter. With this we imagined that we thought of matter, but in fact we had thought of nothing but the subject that represents matter, the eye that sees it, the hand the feels it, the understanding that knows it. Thus the tremendous petitio principii disclosed itself unexpectedly, for suddenly the last link showed itself as the fixed point, the chain as a circle, and the materialist was like Baron von Munchhausen who, when swimming in water on horseback, drew his horse up by his legs, and himself by his upturned pigtail. Accordingly, the fundamental absurdity of materialism consists in the fact that it starts from the objective; it takes an objective something as the ultimate ground of explanation, whether this be matter in the abstract simply as it is thought, of after it has entered into the form empirically given, and hence substance, perhaps the chemical elements together with their primary combinations. Some such thing it takes as existing absolutely and in itself, in order to let organic nature and finally the knowing subject emerge from it, and completely to explain these; whereas in truth everything objective is already conditioned in such manifold ways by the knowing subject with the forms of its knowing, and presupposes these forms; consequently it wholly disappears when the subject is thought away. Materialism is therefore the attempt to explain what is directly given to us from what is given indirectly. Everything objective, extended, active, and hence everything material, is regarded by materialism as so solid a basis for its explanations that a reduction to this (especially if it should ultimately result in thrust and counter-thrust) can leave nothing to be desired. All this is something that is given only very indirectly and conditionally, and is therefore only relatively present, for it has passed through the machinery and fabrication of the brain, and hence has entered the forms of time, space, and causality, by virtue of which it is first of all presented as extended in space and operating in time. From such an indirectly given thing, materialism tries to explain even the directly given, the representation (in which all this exists), and finally the will, from which rather are actually to be explained all those fundamental forces which manifest themselves on the guiding line of causes, and hence according to law. To the assertion that knowledge is a modification of matter there is always opposed with equal justice the contrary assertion that all matter is only modification of the subject's knowing, as the subject's representation. Yet at bottom, the aim and ideal of all natural science is a materialism wholly carried into effect. That we here recognize this as obviously impossible confirms another truth that will result from our further consideration, namely the truth that all science in the real sense, by which I understand systematic knowledge under the guidance of the principle of sufficient reason, can never reach a final goal or give an entirely satisfactory explanation. It never aims at the inmost nature of the world; it can never get beyond the representation; on the contrary, it really tells us nothing more than the relation of one representation to another.- Arthur Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Representation, vol. 1, sect. 7 (tr. E.F. J. Payne)
There is a particular strategy of argument generally employed by idealists in their arguments against materialism/physicalism/scientific realism and/or substance dualism. The strategy originates primarily with Berkeley. Some of the Parmenides fragments sound similar, but, absent context, it is not possible to determine exactly what he intended. Hume and Kant developed their metaphysical systems largely in response to it, and it is similar to the arguments of the so-called "modern Idealists" which Moore set out to refute. Finally, the strategy is, in recent literature, explicitly adopted in John Foster's The Case for Idealism, which I am currently reading. The strategy goes like this (note that I am not giving an argument, but an outline of an argumentative strategy):
There have been a variety of takes on this strategy, but the strategy itself remains fairly constant, and is certainly held in common between Berkeley and Foster.
Though I find a lot of Foster's arguments problematic, his part 2, "the topic-neutrality thesis," is, I think, an excellent example of steps 1 and 2.
Now as, notwithstanding the transitory, isolated nature of our representations with respect to their immediate presence in our consciousness, the Subject nevertheless retains the representation of an all-comprehensive complex of reality, as described above, by means of the function of the Understanding; representations have, on the strength of this antithesis, been viewed, as something quite different when belonging to that complex than when considered with reference to their immediate presence in our consciousness ... This view of matter, which is the ordinary one, is known under the name Realism. On the appearance of modern philosophy, Idealism opposed itself to this Realism and has since been steadily gaining ground. Malebranche [Kenny's note: Malebranche was a Platonist, not an Idealist] and Berkeley were its earliest representatives, and Kant enhanced it to the power of Transcendental Idealism, by which the co-existence of the Empirical Reality of things with their Transcendental Ideality becomes conceivable ... But Realism quite overlooks the fact, that the so-called existence of these real things is absolutely nothing but their being represented (ein Vorgestellt-werden) ... The realist forgets that the Object ceases to be Object apart from its reference to the Subject, and that if we take away that reference, or think it away, we at once do away with all objective existence. Leibnitz [sic], while he clearly felt the Subject to be the necessary condition for the Object, was nevertheless unable to get rid of the thought that objects exist by themselves and independently of all reference whatsoever to the Subject, i.e. independently of being represented. He therefore assumed in the first place a world of objects exactly like the world of representations and running parallel with it, having no direct, but only an outward connection with it by means of a harmonia proestabilitia; - obviously the most superfluous thing possible ... When, however, he wanted to determine more closely the essence of these things existing objectively in themselves, he found himself obliged to declare the Objects in themselves to be Subjects (monades), and by doing so he furnished the most striking proof of the inability of our consciousness, in as far as it is merely cognitive, to find within the limits of the intellect - i.e. of the apparatus by means of which we represent the world - anything beyond Subject and Object; the representer and the represented.- Arthur Schopenhauer, On the Fourfold Root of the Principle of Sufficient Reason, tr. Karl Hillebrand, sect. 19
The Dualist 13 (2006) is finally available online, including my paper "The Ontological Status of Dreams in Berkeleian Metaphysics". Unfortunately, the main index site is still badly broken. Hopefully it will soon be fixed. In the meantime, the direct link to my paper works.
There are some typesetting errors in the PDF (most importantly: footnote numbering is messed up, and some logical symbols are boxed out), and I haven't seen the print version to know if it contains these errors as well. I was never shown any proofs and I also found some spelling errors, and at least one place where a sentence is missing a word. Such is life. But the content is, I hope more interesting than the form, so that's what I will focus on and ask readers to focus on.
I wrote this paper over two and a half years ago, and it's now been just over a year since the paper was accepted, so there are definitely things I would do different if I were writing it today. Most of this is simply the sloppiness, unclarity, and general lack of polish that one expects from a Sophomore philosophy student. However, having just re-read the paper, I think that there is only one place in which these flaws touch the core of the argument, and that is in defining just what the argument is supposed to show. I will try to correct this flaw here, by outlining the general flow of argument as it appears in the published paper and explaining how it ought to differ.
The paper deals with the problem of dreams, given a Berkeleian idealist framework. In particular, it is focused on the question of whether "esse is percipi" places dreams on par with waking life, ontologically. Since, for the Berkeleian, perception defines reality, and dream perceptions are bona fide perceptions, it seems that the answer is yes. However, Berkeley claims (Dialogues 235) that "by whatever method you distinguish things from chimeras on your own scheme, the same, it is evident, will hold also upon mine" (emphasis original). The paper argues that this is in fact true: that is, that a particular solution to the epistemological problem of dreams, drawn from Leibniz's "On the Method of Distinguishing Real From Imaginary Phenomena," succeeds in solving Berkeley's ontological problem of dreams.
The descriptions of the nature of this "ontological problem" and its solution are the critical flaw of the paper. On p. 34, I say that the paper will argue that it is possible for a Berkeleian to draw "an ontological distinction" between dreams and waking life (this is the sentence with the missing word - my draft says "between dream worlds and the actual world"). I go on to talk about an ontology with four "levels" and use the word "real" in scare quotes a lot. Later, in sect. 5, I talk about some things being more or less real than others. I'm no longer entirely sure what the things I actually said mean, but, having studied a bit of W.V.O. Quine and David Lewis in the last year, I think I am prepared to say more accurately what it was that I was trying to say before:
In the famous Quinean formula, "to be is to be the value of a variable." That is, the things that are in the domain of quantification for the universal quantifier are the items of our ontology. However, context often causes the domain of quantification to vary, and, although existence is, as a matter of the way the world is, almost certainly an absolute, black and white sort of thing, "relative existence" enters the picture via language and discursive context.
Given this picture of being, I claim that Berkeley's position (that is, the position I believe to be entailed by his system, although he doesn't discuss the issue) with regard to dream worlds is almost exactly analogous to Lewis's position with regard to non-actual possible worlds: Lewis says that while, strictly speaking, all possible worlds exist, most of the time we restrict our quantifiers to the actual world, and the modal realist has as much reason as anyone for doing this.
I divide Berkeley's world into four "ontological levels:" "The level M of minds, the level RP of 'real' perceptions, the level DP of dreamed or hallucinated perceptions, and the level T of thoughts and volitions" (p. 51). These "ontological levels" are in fact domains of quantification, with every level including the level before it, in addition to the entities it specifies (that is, for instance, DP includes M and RP, but not T - it includes minds and all their perceptions). Strictly speaking, the Berkeleian is going to have to either say that ideas are modes of minds and so M is all that, in metaphysical rigor, exists, or that ideas are bona fide entities and so all of it exists. However, what the paper seeks to show, is that the use of these distinct domains of quantification is well justified by Berkeley's system and, especially, there are good reasons which the Berkeleian can admit - reasons having nothing to do with mind-independent entities - for frequently quantifying over only RP, and saying that those things are "real."
With these thoughts in mind, I present for your consideration, "The Ontological Status of Dreams in Berkeleian Metaphysics". You are encouraged to post your comments and criticisms here.
(Note: I tried to write this post last night and lost it when my powerbook overheated. Here goes the second time.)
David Lewis is best known for his modal realism, the view that all possible worlds exist in precisely the same sense that the actual world exists. He holds this view because he believes that it solves all sorts of philosophical problems related to modality, counterfactuals, properties, and so forth. However, there are a number of philosophers who think that the benefits of modal realism can be had without actually supposing that the possible world really exist. These philosophers Lewis calls ersatzers and in the section entitled "Paradise on the Cheap" in his book On the Plurality of Worlds Lewis attempts to reply to the ersatzers.
The first type of ersatzism to be dealt with is linguistic ersatzism. According to this view, possible worlds are linguistic constructs and therefore have only the ontological status of abstract objects like mathematical sets (whatever that might be) and not the status of concrete objects like the actual world. The linguistic ersatzer sets up a "world-making language" and asserts that possible worlds are maximal consistent sets of sentences in this language.
Lewis's first objection to this view (pp. 150-157) is that the ersatzer is required to assume certain facts about modality, which he is supposed to be explaining. In particular, Lewis wants to know whether it is possible for a particle to be both positively and negatively charged. Since these are (presumably) distinct predicates ("negatively charged" means more than just "not positively charged"), an axiom will be needed to enforce this rule (it's not a basic rule of the language). Lewis thinks that the ersatzer's axioms must come from some facts of modality distinct from his theory, so that his theory doesn't actually explain the facts of modality. In shot, Lewis claims that the ersatzer must be a primitivist about modality. To drive the point home, he wonders whether, according to the ersatzer, it is possible that there is a talking donkey. Again, Lewis says an axiom will be needed, and the axiom will depend on primitive facts of modality.
I suspect that Lewis is mistaken in his argument and that there is a reply open to the ersatzer based on distinguishing between different types of modality. By a "type of modality" I here mean a set of meanings that modal terms (e.g. "possible," "necessary," "impossible," etc.) can take in a certain context. Let's first distinguish between these types of modality and then consider the reply. The terms of modality can all be defined in terms of one another, so in my descriptions I will use whichever term is easiest to define.
In his discussion of possible worlds (and possible talking donkeys and positively and negatively charged particles) Lewis is talking about metaphysical or real modality. I've never heard a generic explanation of this type of modality that was more illuminating than its name, so suffice it to say that something is really possible just in case it really might have been actual, whatever really means. Lewis thinks this means that it really is actual for someone (the word "actual", according to Lewis, is an indexical like "here" or "now" - the actual world is just whatever world the speaker is in).
The next type of modality is narrowly logical or formal modality. A sentence is formally impossible relative to a language just in case the deductive calculus of that language can be used to derive an explicit contradiction (e.g. "A & ~A" in propositional logic) from it. Note that formal modal statements can be predicated of sentences, not of propositions and not of anything else. Also note that formal modal statements are always relative to a language.
The next concept is semantic or conceptual modality . A proposition is conceptually necessary just in case its truth is implicit in the definitions of the terms involved. For instance, it is conceptually necessary that a bachelor be an unmarried man (unless the context indicates that "bachelor" means "the recipient of a bachelor's degree" or something else, in which case it is not conceptually necessary).
Finally, there is broad logical modality. A proposition is broadly logically possible just in case all sentences that express it in some idealized language are formally possible relative to that language and it is conceptually possible. Now, of course, to give a full account of broad logical modality, you would have to give an account of the idealized language involved, but that's another story. Let's just suppose that there is some best formal logical language and we know what it is.
Now, Lewis seems to think, as I do, that real possibility and broad logical possibility are coextensive. Suppose the ersatzer also takes this view. Then what is the ersatzer doing? Well, he already has formal possibility by way of his language. The axioms Lewis wants him to add are the conceptually necessary truths. This isn't actually a problem for the ersatzer, because these are truths about language so they carry no additional commitments.
Considered from this direction, Lewis's objection seems a bit silly, especially when you consider that at the end he criticizes the ersatzer's introduction of axioms about talking-donkeyhood, saying "The job was to analyse modality ... It was not also part of the job to analyse 'talking donkey' (p. 156). The argument actually goes roughly like this (most of this is paraphrase of Lewis; the parts in italics I've added on behalf of the ersatzer):
LEWIS: Is it really possible that a single particle should be both positively and negatively charged?ERSATZER: I don't know. What do you mean by positive and negative charge?
LEWIS: It's your theory, so you tell me what positive and negative charge are.
ERSATZER: Well I don't know what positive and negative charge are, but if the definition of positive charge is such as to exclude its coexistence with negative charge in a single particle, then the answer to your question is yes. If the definition doesn't exclude this, then the answer is no.
LEWIS: Aren't you assuming facts about modality independent of your theory?
ERSATZER: No, I'm just assuming that terms like "positive charge" mean something, and that they mean the same thing when we're talking about modality as they do in the real world.
LEWIS: Well, then tell me this: is it possible that there should be a talking donkey?
ERSATZER: What do you mean by "talking donkey?"
LEWIS: You know, a donkey that talks!
ERSATZER: Well, it so happens that I know more about donkeys and talking than about positive and negative charge. A donkey is a certain arrangement of matter, and talking is a certain event having to do with vocal chords and sound waves, and these arrangements of matter are possible, so, yes, it is possible that there should be a talking donkey.
LEWIS: I asked you to analyze modality - why are you analyzing talking donkeys?
ERSATZER: How on earth am I supposed to tell you whether a talking donkey is possible without establishing what is meant by the words "talking donkey?"
Of course, this discussion is sympathetic to the ersatzer; from Lewis's perspective the objection is not so silly since I don't suppose he thinks these facts are just linguistic. Nevertheless, it seems to me that this reply on the part of the ersatzer is a simple and effective one.