Sunday, April 11, 2010

A little bit of philosophy: Is teleology necessarily theological?



This post is a look at whether teleology can ever be understood in secular terms. And the suggestion is that it is better understood in secular terms.

I think most will agree that terms are often best explicated in relation to other terms- either ones with similar meanings or otherwise ones with opposing meanings. For this reason then an expedient comparative analysis of deontology and teleology.

Mostly these two terms are spoken of in relation to each other in discourses seated in moral philosophy. But the use of these terms can and are extended to other discourses. We start with the moral. Kant’s theories are said to be forwarding a deontological notion of moral action or deliberation. This means that, for Kant, all moral decision making should be done according to a sense of duty. Moral duty in particular. According to deontological theories it is wrong to base any moral deliberation, and the eventual moral action based on this deliberation, on what will be the consequences of that action. To do this would be to take into account the contingent nature of the context in which the moral action takes place. And the contingent context is variable, unreliable and based in the part of reality which has everything to do with the sensory world and, therefore, nothing to do with the overarching, rationally pure and perfectly stable world of law. Principles, principles and more principles. Principles simply are not dependent on the ‘the nature of things’ to make them either right or wrong. If this were the case they would, by definition, not be a principle.

On account of the above, deontological theory suggests that in our moral decision making we do what is right and wrong based in moral duty. And such duty is a priori associated with the action in question. There are no mitigating circumstances which could way in on a situation and which could serve as possible reasons for making a decision contrary to the a priori correctness of a moral law or imperative. So, according to Kant’s deontology, our focus as moral agents should be on moral duty, on the principles which provide the imperatives for certain actions to be either considered right or wrong, and not what would be the consequences of either choosing to act or not. Graphically put: we look into the moral nature of the action itself and our duty which we have around such as action, and not outwards towards the future consequences of this action.

Teleological theory suggests that we base or moral decision making on what the consequences of an action would be. In other words, the suggestion is that our motivations for actions are seated in the contingent world which surrounds things such as moral actions. Depending on what sort of teleological theorist one is it will either be claimed that the consequences of actions do, despite our best intentions and maybe even resistance, form the reasons for our actions. In other words, whether we agree with the deontologists or not, in principle (excuse the pun), it simply is the case that the future outcomes of moral actions are the reasons which propel us towards making such decisions. And not things like over arching moral laws which we abide by as rational and moral agents.

But whether it is the consequences of actions or the moral duty rationally embedded in moral actions which motivate, or ought to motivate, us to act is not for this posting.

What is, however, for this posting is whether or not teleology must, by definition, imply something theological. In other words, when we say that certain things ‘happen for a reason’ do we necessarily, or logically, refer to something like a divine plan? Firstly, from the above it should be significantly clear that both deontological and teleological views propose that ‘things happen for a reason’. But these reasons, as we have seen, are not the same. So, if it is being claimed that teleological thinking is always based in some sort of religious thinking it could be claimed this for deontology as well. If god, or a prime mover, is the inspiration giving rise to all action (not just moral action) and design in nature it is just as feasible to say that god or a prime mover has laced all action and design, moral and natural, with the imperatives for their existence- regardless of what the outcomes of their existence and design would have on their contingent environment or how they are influences by these environments.

But, secondly, the point really is, that neither teleology nor deontology need subscribe to theology for semantic sense. A Darwinian theory about design, for instance, is a perfectly good description of why certain things happen in nature. The reasons for design and dynamics in nature are ascribed to the consequences thereof in the larger context of nature or to the future survival of a species of some kind. So change, action or even design is based in reasons which have to do with sustaining or bringing about more change, action or design. With no reference being made to ultimate or absolute goals and or ends needing to be achieved. The actions and the reasons for these actions all reside within a closed system. If the argument seems circular to the astute reader, then I caution that it may the content forwarding a secular explanation of ‘things happen for a reason’ which is confusing you thus. Read again.

But why, some ask mysteriously, is the human mind so designed as to be constantly thinking of the big ‘why’ questions. Yes, we may be able to see that this empirically based reason explains why that happens. But such reasons cannot give an account of what it is all about. Why all of this? What is it all for? What is it all aiming to achieve? It is because of this predisposition of ours that we come up against answers of a non-secular nature. And then, of course, the next reasonable question must be, but why are we made thus. There must surely be a reason why our minds are fashioned in a way to be constantly bringing us to these overarching questions leading to their overarching answers. This question itself seems to be enough evidence for some that everything has a greater goal. One seated outside of the material systems.

Here is a suggestion: We are fashioned thus because meaning making is part of our need to and ability to use language. And the use of language has directly to do with our imperative to survive and maybe even for our pursuits in the abstract arts. (But this is for another discussion, dear reader.) The fact that this faculty for meaning making gets us, in an obsessive sort of way, to answer perfectly natural questions with religious answers is a by product of evolutionary imperatives. But maybe, hopefully, we shall be losing this cumbersome tendency like the birds on the Galapagos Islands are losing their wings. Because the use for these have become redundant. It just takes some time. In the meantime, it is perfectly within reason to take teleology as a term which does not, necessarily, have a religious basis.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

A little bit of philosophy: Lesson 4: Oh so logical and oh so positive

Let us try again. My apologies to my more discerning readers for the previous post on the positivists.

Same introduction: One thing is certain, if only simple lessons are intended, I should find it an easier task to speak about the positivists than any other theoretical movement in philosophy. And this is exactly the way the positivists would have liked it- the outcomes of their doctrine being comparatively minimalist and their campaign aimed at simplicity.

It should, however, be cautioned that, as within all specialised schools of thought, there exists disagreement, so by no means must the following very superficial explication of positivist theory be taken as the unequivocal conclusions reached by all positivist theorists themselves. But then it has never been claimed that the writings posted to this blog set out to forward a deep and thorough analysis of anything, even though its author makes every attempt to be careful in her summaries and as precise as possible in her representations of others’ thoughts.

Inspired by Hume’s explanation of only two types of truths, the necessary and the contingent, the logical positivists maintained that only propositions which are either necessarily true/false (true by definition) or are contingently true/false (can be shown to be true/false by the certain matters of fact) can have any sort of meaning. And here, I hope, the astute reader will notice that ‘meaning’ has suddenly become a new character in our play.

For the positivist the most effective way of addressing the problems of philosophy is first to address and resolve the problems with philosophy. The problem with philosophy, dear reader, is that it at times sets out to do things which it is not adequately positioned to do. The positivists took offence and devised a plan to clean up the foundations of philosophy. The strategy was to take the products of philosophy, the foundational propositions which comprise the premises and conclusions of the arguments of philosophers, and to scrutinise them for their efficacy. The hypothesis was that if the propositions themselves are without meaning, are vacuous statements with no bearing on the world which they attempt to denote, then the arguments themselves will never take hold (except on our imaginations maybe).

And it is because of this method of the positivists that the author has employed, as from lesson one, the methodology of making propositions, which are linguistic objects aimed at conveying meaning and the component parts of philosophical arguments, the objects of our study.

Taking this proposition: “God is good.”

The logical positivists maintained, in short, that each component part of a proposition must be reducible to observable data. Complex concepts and ideas are permissible if and only if their component parts are grounded in simple observational, or sensory, data and that the particular suggestion around the relationship between the various sensory objects to which the proposition is making reference, can also be verified empirically. So if, for instance, a causal relationship is being referred to the causal relationship must, itself, be observable and not just the objects presumably in the causal relationship. (And we know from one of our previous lessons that it is impossible to observe causality. At most we get some sort of inductively inferred correlation always up for refutation.)

Let us take a look at what happens in a proposition such as: “God is good.”

If the claim is that an object ‘X’ has the property of being ‘Y’ then it is not only a semantic requirement that ‘X’ and ‘Y’ be traceable- in principle- but that the claimed relationship of ‘X’ to ‘Y’ be traceable.

Is there any observational data which the term ‘God’ could be referencing? It seems, by the very definition of ‘God’ this is not possible. God is above the sensory. This is logically (and conveniently) required for god to be what he is. We see that the term ‘God’ is not illogical in itself, of course, but is certainly not empirically traceable to an object in a material reality. And ‘good’? The property of goodness is, evidently, not traceable either. People sometimes think that they have traced such a property (and it makes no difference whether it be ‘good’ of the aesthetic kind or the ‘ethical’ kind), but this is questionable for someone like a positivist.

For the sake of good sportsmanship, let us give the proposition the little head start it does not deserve. Let us assume that ‘God’ and ‘good’ are traceable objects and properties. The term ‘is’ still requires the one be a property of the other. However, if it were possible to track ‘God’ in the sense that the positivists require, I suggest, it is doubtful that it will be found that he is ‘good’- in the same manner as something, for instance, being green colour. Taking everything we know about god, his abilities and sentiments, I doubt if I would like to describe him as good.

Thus, if the statement, hypothetically, were to have meaning, at best it seems to turn out false. And at worst it is meaningless.

I take a stand here: The proposition is doomed to one of semantic barrenness and so are all propositions like this. At least those propositions which are intended by the speaker to be taken seriously in the literal sense. And, so, dear reader, we get to the positivist campaign against metaphysics in philosophy. But this is for the next time.

Friday, March 5, 2010

A little bit of philosophy: Lesson 3: Hume's Fork and the demise of Knowledge


A little recap before we continue: We now have established two ways in which propositions can be true. They can either be necessarily true or they can be contingently true. A proposition which is necessarily true is so by virtue of the meaning of the words which make up the proposition such as “All blue things have a colour.” A proposition which is contingently true is so by virtue of a certain state of affairs obtaining in the world, such as “It is raining outside” being true by virtue of it actually raining outside. If it happens to be the case that it is not raining outside then, of course, the proposition will be false.

Hume, on looking at these two options for truth, decided that the prognosis is poor for knowledge about reality. The reason for this is that necessary truths do not give us much information about the world and contingent truths can always be overturned by emerging evidence.

Necessary truths come in three forms which are slightly different from each other.

Necessary truths: The propositions we have been looking at are called logical necessities. It is a logical necessity that all bachelors be unmarried men because this is what the term ‘bachelor’ implies by definition. However, it is not true that all unmarried men be bachelors. Some unmarried men are so because they are divorced or widowed. So the proposition, “All bachelors are unmarried men”, does not express an ‘if and only if’ sort of statement. In other words, it is not saying that all bachelors are unmarried men if and only if all unmarried men are bachelors. The proposition is only true in one direction. The same is true for “All blue things have colour.” This statement is not necessarily (but it may be, if the world makes it so- only by accident though) true in the opposite direction, because it simply is not the case that all things which have colour must be blue.

Analytical truths: These are the sorts of propositions which are, let us say, true in both directions. Propositions such as “A mammal is any animal which gives birth to live young, not eggs, and feeds its young on its own milk”. This proposition expresses a logical equivalence or an analytical truth. In other words, it is true in both directions: Any thing which gives birth to live young, not eggs, and feeds its young on its own milk will have to be a mammal. Definitions are often, but not always, analytically true. The good ones are, at least. All analytical truths are necessary truths but not all necessary truths are analytical truths.

Tautological truths: Quite simply, these are circular statements or phrases. They are obviously true as in “That is either true or false” or “He is either dead or alive” or phrases such as “over exaggeration” and “descend down”. All tautologies are necessary truths but not all necessary truths are tautologies (but, naturally, this is debated, dear reader).

Contingent truth, as we now know, is the sort of truth which is made so by the world. But more importantly, by our access to the world, and by our evidence that we have of certain things being the case or not. But, as we know from experience, this is up for grabs all the time. This is because the evidence for the facts we think we have about the world changes as science does its work and as our observational data changes shape. These sorts of truths, as interesting and helpful as they are to us, are not stable. They are not truths that are settled by the rules of reasoning, but by a dynamic world and an evolving tradition in empiricism.

So, says Hume, we have on the one hand stable logical truths which tell us nothing about reality and much about words and, on the other hand, we have truths which say a lot about reality but which can be overthrown around every and any corner. In effect, the latter, maybe, say too much. Or, more than they really are entitled to.

Thus, for Hume, the only decent position to obtain, regarding the possibility of knowledge, is one of skepticism.

Next lesson: Onto the logical positivists and meaning.

Monday, March 1, 2010

A little bit of philosophy: Lesson 2: Two truths


Now that we do to some extent understand what Hume said about cause we need to see what he has done with truth. The task, dear reader, is to try and predict what Hume's notions on truth might have for the possibilities of knowledge. That is, if we accept that our concept of truth has any bearing on our concept knowledge. Just keep such things in the back of your mind while you read on below.

To help us along on this particular journey to understanding what some theories in meaning are saying today: We are not studying the objects in the world anymore (no more metaphysics!) and we have done done done with meta-ethics too. Our proper and correct objects of investigation are the sorts of things that language yields: propositions being a particular favourite of mine and so appropriate for what we have set out to achieve in these few lessons. So, from now on I shall be giving you a proposition at the outset of various parts of any lesson. It is my wish that you do not forget to apply the lesson thereto and to nothing else. You may then have fun applying the lesson to other objects of the same category. If you are not certain whether your chosen object (proposition) is of the same category, I am always at the end of the comment-line.


It seems proper and correct that we pay credence to contingent truth as it has, after all, given us science and common sense. We start thus with this old dame:


Contingent truth



The proposition in question: All chairs are blue.

We have something someone asserts. This being "All chairs are blue." And then we have the conditions which would make such an assertion true. What could these be? It would simply have to be the case that all and every chair in existence must be blue in colour in order for the assertion above to obtain the truth value: true. Do you agree? So we have quite simply a condition which must obtain in the world in order for the assertion made about the world to be either true or false. The assertion would be false if it were found that even one chair is not blue or that the only objects which are blue are not chairs.

How would we find out if this were the case? In other words, how would we find out if the truth conditions for this proposition do, indeed, obtain? We would have to investigate the nature of reality. We would have to see what the world yields regarding the colour of all chairs. The investigation would be of the sensory kind. In science this is called empirical investigation and at the end of such an investigation things can turn out either in favour, or not, of the object under investigation. In other words, the world can turn out to either verify or falsify the proposition in question.

The point is that we need to go looking for the conditions which would settle the truth.

This is contingent truth. It is the sort of truth which is defeasible. Because new conditions can always turn up and overthrow what was previously thought to be true. It could be assumed, that every chair has been found and, as they are all blue, it could be thought that it is justified to take the proposition as true. But then one day, after having been buried deep underneath the soil of an old castle for instance, a red chair could turn up during an excavation. And suddenly the proposition is made false. And this is exactly how science does its work. Very tentatively. As it should.



Necessary truth




The proposition in question: All bachelors are unmarried men.


We have an assertion: "All bachelors are unmarried men" and then we have the conditions which would make such an assertion true. What could these truth conditions be, dear reader? Yes, naturally it would have to be the case that each and every bachelor, on finding such a thing, would have to have two qualities; being a man and being unmarried. You have learnt much I can see. These would have to be the conditions in the world for this statement to be true.


So, what then is different to contingent truth, you ask. It has to do with how we know whether every bachelor is indeed an unmarried man. The claim here is that we need not rise from our armchairs in order to establish if this really is the case. Such as with trying to find out if all chairs are blue, and then still being for ever uncertain whether this really is so. No. With objects such as "All bachelors are unmarried men" we simply know this to be true by definition. Because being a bachelor means that you are unmarried and that you are a man. There is no other way of being a bachelor, unlike the possibility of being a chair and not being blue. We say, that bachelors by necessity have to be unmarried and a man, but that chairs do not, necessarily, have to be blue. This is a matter of contingency.


Regarding the troublesome question of how I know whether the conditions obtain so needed to make the bachelor proposition true. I know this by definition. I know that if I were ever to find an object called a bachelor this object will be unmarried and a man. If this were not the case it could not be called a bachelor. There is, therefore, a necessary relationship between the concepts "bachelor", "unmarried" and "man".


And such truths are what Hume called logical truths. Definitions are logical truths, analytical truths are logical truths and correct mathematical equations are logical truths. They are truths which are not defeasible in any way. Because they have to do with logical equivalence of some type or another. And there are different types. But this is for another day.


Do you think you have an example of a defeasible necessary truth? Let's hear about it then.


Next lesson: What does this distinction mean for knowledge?

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

A little bit of Philosophy: Lesson 1: Hume's take on Causality

This time, dear readers, it is about me. For once.
We have discussed moral philosophy. It really is all a little grim when one thinks about it. We have delved a little into metaphysics. But what can be said about such stuff? Meaningless- most of it. What's next?
Once Hume had decided that there were only two types of truth, necessary and contingent, and that there were some serious problems with the notion of 'causality' he cast a spell so deep upon the foundations of philosophy itself, that there really has never been a full recovery from this event. And a good thing too. Best philosophy hobbles along in the right direction than elegantly runs towards and leaps from the edge of a cliff to its eventual death. (Actually, I think I prefer the elegant leap- so this was not at all a good illustration.)
Hume suggested that we never have observational evidence to support any judgement that one event has caused another to happen. In other words, the only thing that pure unadulterated observation can give us, is that one event happened and that immediately afterwards another happened. But, according to Hume, this is not evidence for a causal relationship. Why?
Maybe a story here: If, every morning when I wake up, the milk man comes to my door at 7:15 and delivers milk to me and then at exactly 7:16 the newspaper man comes and delivers my news paper, most of us will agree that the only information we really have is that the one event always succeeds the other, in a particular order and without fail (if this is indeed the case). Not many of us will want to add to this that that the milkman has caused the newspaper man to arrive. Most of us accept that these two events have two external causes of their own, entirely seperate from each other.
Now, this seems intuitively true because we happen to know something about how these systems work. But what if we are looking through a microscope and see two organisms, both unknown to us, repeatedly performing some sort of action wherein the one turns red and then the other turns blue immediately afterwards when they come into contact with each other. Every time. We have observational evidence of the proximity, we have observational evidence of the change of colours. We have no evidence that the one causes the other to happen.
For Hume it is necessary to show a logical connection between two events, in other words, when this event happens that one must follow, and it must be for that reason only (the first must be a necessary and sufficient condition for the next event to happen) before any causal links can be assumed. A high bar to set for causality. And such a wet blanket, because we do so love to think that we know what caused what to happen.
OK. This is enough for today. One lesson at a time. This will need to happen in incremental steps, for my sake.
Next lesson: Two types of truth and what this leaves us with.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

A large bit of philosophy: Metaphysics this time


Reality.

More than likely the most pervasive theme running through metaphysics within academic philosophy. What could be so controversial about reality, you ask. Why should it be necessary to look at ‘reality’? Surely it is simply the case that the world is what it is and there is not much we can do about this? Some really silly questions, I would say. Unforgivable.

Firstly, no questions in philosophy are necessary. Only definitions are necessary in philosophy. So there is no reason why anyone ‘should’ look at finding answers to questions of any kind. Even most philosophers have accepted this. Such questions are, at the very least, somewhat interesting and, at the very most, tremendously interesting. And that is that. There is just one axis for questions such as these. Because they are fundamentally useless.

And then, one does not study things necessarily with the desired outcome being any sort of manipulation. Sometimes we just study things to know about them. So be it. What then are these questions about reality?

We’ll start with one: Does something (chair, table, cat or plate of cauliflower soup, God and angels) have to be able to exist without my existence in order for their existence to be considered real? In other words, must they have independent existence, for them to be considered actual things? Or is it good enough, in order to earn the label of “real object”, that someone out there is conscious of it? In fact, some would say that it is necessary to have awareness of an object for that thing to exist. This, of course implies that nothing exists that we are not aware of.

Here are your options. You can let me know if you know of any more:

If things must have independent existence for them to be considered real then you are a realist of about objects. (It is possible to be a realist about some objects such as chairs and tables and not about others such as gods and fairies.) The important question a realist faces is one regarding knowledge: Say I believe that God exists independently of me- so he is not a figment of my imagination- then how do I know this? Plato ran up against this problem when he spoke of the Essential Qualities of things in the world having separate existence to the things they are qualities of. No one has been able to rescue him yet.

If you take reality to be a product of our consciousness or awareness you may consider yourself as some sort of constructivist about reality. In this case you will not have a problem regarding knowledge of the thing, because the thing itself is an extension of you thoughts. So no little epistemological problems arising from the gap between our minds and the world out there. The problem for this view, of course, is that this must mean that there are as many realities as there are minds. If this is the view you take you must also be able to accept that in the same place at the exactly the same moment someone’s bed can be burning and not burning, depending on who is observing. So, is the bed burning or not? And it does not solve the problem to say that for someone it might be. We all accept this to be so. But, the controversial question must surely be, if they think their bed is burning (while lying in it), then why is the flesh not falling from their bones? It seems, therefore, a little wishful to think that reality can be reduced to subjectivity.

Let me know what you think. I am really interested.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

A little bit of philosophy: Beyond Good and Evil


“This need” (here Nietzsche speaks of the need to unconditionally obey commands i.e. ‘thou shalt’) “seeks to be satisfied and to fill out its form with content; in doing so it grasps about wildly, according to the degree of its strength, impatience and tension, with little discrimination, as a crude appetite, and accepts whatever any commander- parent, teacher, law, class, prejudice, public opinion- shouts in its ear. The strange narrowness of human evolution, its hesitations, its delays, its frequent retrogressions and rotations, are due to the fact that the herd instinct of obedience has been inherited best and at cost of the art of commanding”.
Friedrich Nietzsche (Beyond Good and Evil).

When Nietzsche so quickly dismisses the constraints of social norms and standards as something which is practiced by “the herd” (no doubt intended as a derogatory label) does he take into account the behaviour of those who he takes to be free from this sort of mindless commandeering? You know, the Übermensch. The ones who are exempt from having to comply. Does he consider that the freedom, which he only attributes to special minority, from narrow moral constraints, if extrapolated to general society, would lead to complete anarchy? The world would be filled with danger and hurt. He does, of course, consider this. This is precisely the crux of his theory.
In other words, there can only be an Übermensch if there is a herd, like there can only be a master if there is a slave. Does this seem fair or even rational? It would not seem fair to Marx and would not seem rational to Kant, but we all do know that hierarchy is an essential quality of human society. It is the way nature has deemed things to be.