Thursday, April 21, 2011

Neuroscientific Threats to Freedom

There's been a lot of ink spilled recently about the possibility that neuroscience undermines our freedom of action or our freedom of the will. Neuroscientists, apparently, have been running about in the popular media claiming that they have shown that humans lack free will or that our conscious choices are epiphenomena, mere concomitants of actually causative non-conscious brain processes. This furor has caused some consternation among philosophers, especially because other experiments appear to show that the belief in determinism makes people act less morally. This raises the specter of a populace unmoored from its traditional moral bearings, running amok in the (misguided) belief that they can be blamed for nothing they do.

The philosophical response (widespread, it seems, but mostly exemplified by Daniel Dennett) is that it is (1) morally irresponsible to lead people to believe they lack free will given these consequences and (2) that we still have free will even if we are determined, so the neuroscientists are misleading people (even if unintentionally) to have false beliefs (that are, as noted, harmful).

These are two distinct issues, of course, and if it were the case that people lacked free will, and philosophers knew it, then it would be irresponsible (I believe) to withhold that information from them from a paternalist belief in their own self-interest. So, the most important issue is the Compatibilist response to the challenge raised by brain science.

The first thing that strikes me about this debate is how much it resembles the debate between new atheists and the religious or the 'more responsible' atheists. Theists and atheists alike have decried the impertinent tone of recent atheist pronouncements (such as those of Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris and others) and have claimed that these new atheists do not address the real questions about theism that all responsible thinkers should address. For example, they should not concern themselves with the literal accuracy of the Bible--no one (except for 40% of the American public) believes that--rather they should address the serious theist position that God is the grounding for all existence, the essence of being itself, the perfect being that is the sine qua non of existence, not the imperfect, anthropomorphic being of the Old Testament.

There is even some similarity to the position of atheists who nonetheless believe in the power of belief. In other words, atheists or deists (such as Benjamin Franklin) have often believed that if the people did cease to believe in God, they would be morally the worse for their disbelief even if we enlightened few are capable of disbelief without losing our moral bearings.

In the past I have expressed considerable skepticism about this critique of the new atheists. I think the main point is that the atheists in the popular press are not talking to academics (who might believe these things about God if one can be said to believe such apparently nonsensical claims) but are talking to ordinary people who believe in Christianity, in the literal truth of the Bible, and in the anthropomorphic God the Bible portrays. So here it is relevant to ask whether the academic Compatibilists are missing the point. Are these neuroscientists addressing some commonly-held but misguided belief about freedom? Is there a reasonable variety of freedom that we do have? Or is Compatibilism more like the theist position that God is the ground of being qua being?

Here the Compatibilists are on firmer ground than the theists, and much work over the centuries has gone into supporting exactly these claims. Very few philosophers are (anti-naturalist) Libertarians anymore. Not many believe that there is a variety of free will such that physical laws either do not apply to our actions and choices or that we violate those physical laws when we make such choices or take such actions. Roderick Chisholm died and (mostly) took Agent Causation with him. The remaining philosophers all look for a naturalistic concept of free will, and these neuroscientists seem not to consider this possibility. Their thinking appears to be: Physicalism means determinism; determinism means no free will; hence, we have no free will.

It's always tempting at this point to wade into some debate about Compatibilism. I'll skip it for now and say that the truth of Compatibilism may be beside the point if we can take the neuroscientists to be opposing a commonly-held view of free will that is, in fact, incompatible with physicalism. Are the ordinary folk anti-naturalist Libertarians? Are ordinary people dualists? I think that there's a good case to be made that they are, at least sometimes, even if they are not so consistently. At least, most people believe that they are Libertarians, or think that they believe (anti-naturalist) Libertarianism.

Demonstrating such a claim is difficult, perhaps impossible here, but I rely on my experience teaching introduction to philosophy students who frequently say that, no matter the circumstance, "there's always a choice," or "you can always do something else", that it's always possible to act differently than one in fact does. They react with horror to the idea that their lives necessarily turn out as they have, and that if they 'rewound the tape' of their lives, they would do everything exactly the same way. Perhaps they should not feel such horror. Perhaps there are Compatibilist glosses of these notions that one could convince students to accept (at least until their exam). But the initial reaction is almost always anti-determinist, and so the neuroscientists might be providing a valuable service if they educate the public about this and make such views publicly impossible to maintain with any respectability (as, alas, the current media have failed to do with Biblical literalism).

My tentative view, then, is that these neuroscientists should be engaged in a dialogue in which dualist, anti-naturalist Libertarianism gets ruled out of court, and the Compatibilist case is persuasively made to the public so that people can (ha!) decide for themselves which view is right. It is not a bad thing for scientists to stake out an extreme position that may, ultimately, prove incorrect if it can help show that one alternative is not compatible with the best understanding of contemporary science. If philosophers fail to make a persuasive case for Compatibilism, or fail to make themselves heard in this debate (despite their enormous grants from the Templeton foundation), the fault is their own. Or, to paraphrase Shakespeare, the fault, dear Compatibilists, lies not in our stars but in ourselves.

Explanatory note on Templeton: One of my colleagues has done a lot of work, that has been lavishly funded by the Templeton foundation, on the threat from recent discoveries in neuroscience and psychology posed to freedom (and claims that neuroscience poses no real threat but that overstated claims by neuroscientists may have harmful effects). I have no word on whether they would provide equal support for work on threats to neuroscience caused by our intuitive judgments about freedom. Also, too lazy for links today. I may add them later. Sorry.

Update: Mild revision to remove redundancy and maintain plausible pseudonymity.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Homeless Haiku

At the corner, Soothed by the gentle Swaying of the homeless

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Is there anything at all?

It is the philosophical consensus opinion that something exists. This view has gone so long unquestioned that it goes without a name in contemporary philosophy. I will coin the term 'Reism' for the position that at least something exists, that there is anything at all. That anything exists at all is not, I suggest, remotely supported by the available evidence. Indeed, it is likely, given the manifest problems with the position, that it is not true at all.

The near-total lack of evidence for the claim has, mysteriously, gone unnoticed. The reasons given in support of this claim are not remotely strong enough to explain the certainty with which philosophers accept the claim. This relative lack of support, coupled with the subjective certainty with which most philosophers hold the position, suggests that it is more a matter of dogma or religious conviction than philosophical ratiocination.

We might consider it our philosophical good fortune that virtually all philosophers accept Reism as true. One might even be tempted by the fallacy of appeal to popularity to think this consensus is some reason to accept the view. But it is more philosophical to question the consensus opinion than to blindly accept it, and so, notwithstanding my stronger claims to follow, if the present work at least undermines this sense of certainty, then I will have accomplished at least part of my task.

The philosophical literature contains nothing remotely supportive of the idea that something exists. It is surprising that philosophers would take something for granted when there is essentially no evidence presented in the philosophical literature in support of it. This speaks of a need for criticism. Indeed, you can experience philosophical prejudice first-hand by raising the issue at a local philosophy conference or by questioning your local philosophers on the issue. Let us say, charitably, that the typical response is not the serious consideration one's arguments ought to receive.

Surely, one might suppose, there are arguments for a position so universally adopted. Peter van Inwagen, in his introductory text on Metaphysics, addresses the possibility that there is nothing (a view he calls nihilism), and attempts to show that it is not true that nothing exists. Indeed, it might be thought paradoxical to claim that nothing exists. Appearances aside, however, we need to exercise caution in making these arguments from elimination. Arguing against nihilism does not in itself constitute a positive case for Reism. Whatever concerns one might have about alternatives to Reism, it is simply unacceptable for philosophers to take Reism on faith.

Perhaps, one might say, there must be something in order for us to have this conversation. It is impossible to talk about something without there being something to talk about. It is now widely recognized that this reasoning is fallacious. Since it is easily possible to talk about things that do not exist—e.g. unicorns, Pegasus—and indeed things that could not exist—e.g. round squares, the fact that I am presenting an argument against Reism does not in any way imply that Reism is true. It may be that I am not saying anything about anything at all.

You will often hear, in conversation, but rarely in published form, arguments that, pragmatically speaking, we must believe that something exists, otherwise what are we to do? How can we operate without an assumption that there is something? We might even suggest, in a Kantian vein, that the belief in something constitutes part of our noetic or conative architecture, that it is a necessary precondition for rationality or action. Perhaps it is such a precondition, but it does not follow that it is true. There is no guarantee that the universe will meet our epistemic or conative requirements.

As I noted above, the evidence in favor of Reism is remarkably limited for such a widely held position. There are, however, arguments for particular things, and if such an argument were successful, it would support Reism. Nonetheless, one must admit that the history of arguments for the existence of things—such as God, immaterial souls, properties or universals or other abstract objects, necessary connection, bare particulars, possible worlds, the Absolute, etc.—is in fact a litany of abject failure. Induction over these examples suggests that no adequate reason can be given in support of the existence of anything at all. There might, of course, be compelling arguments yet undiscovered, but as of now, one can have little confidence that such a proof is forthcoming.

The only argument I know of to show that Reism is true is Descartes’ cogito. Here Descartes attempts to find one thing he knows with certainty and ‘discovers’ that the one thing he can know for certain is that he exists whenever he thinks. Cartesian is widely in disrepute these days, and taking such antiquated arguments seriously is difficult. I, myself, have doubts about Descartes’ existence and, thus, his argument for his own existence. But, if one needs a refutation of the Cartesian method, one must say that Descartes’ criterion of evidence, that a belief must meet his standard of self-evidence or clarity and distinctness, is insufficiently strict. Descartes did not show to an objective standard of evidence that he exists; all he showed is that seeming-to-be-true-to-Descartes is sufficient to convince Descartes.

A Reist might argue that critics bear the burden of proof—or, more accurately, disproof. The view that there is something is so overwhelmingly plausible that we must take Reism for granted until evidence shows it to be false. This attitude might account for the incredulity with which my remarks are often met. Nonetheless, this attitude is wholly unbecoming the philosopher or thinking person. No view in philosophy should be accepted on faith; no view must be considered true until shown to be false. Anyone making, or implicitly endorsing, a philosophical claim bears the burden of proving it. There is no room for special pleading by the Reist; basic fairness and free inquiry require that she meet the same burden as every other philosopher. If the Reist can make such a claim for herself, what is to stop the theist, dualist, materialist or any other -ist from doing the same? No, the only rational attitude is at least to withhold judgment with respect to a claim until sufficient evidence is presented.

More positively, or perhaps negatively, I believe there are two overwhelming difficulties with the Reist position. I will sketch out these difficulties, having to do with paradoxes of truth and existence, in the remainder of this post.

First, paradoxes of truth lead to the conclusion that Reism is false. If Reism is true, there must be facts, reality or truths. Yet, it is hard to make sense of any such concepts, and close examination renders all of them paradoxical and suspect. For example, the sentence, “This sentence is false,” involves a paradox of truth and self-reference. If it is true, then the assertion it makes is false. Hence, if it is true, then it is false. If, on the other hand, it is false, then the assertion it makes, that it is false, is true. Thus, there appears to be no such thing as truth, and, hence, Reism cannot be true.

Similarly, there do not appear to be facts. A fact is supposed to be something that is the case. Now consider the sentence: the fact that renders this sentence true does not exist (or, to use the technical term, ‘obtain’). If this sentence is true, then there is no such fact underlying it, and, therefore, this sentence is not true. If this sentence is false, then there is such a fact. But if there is such a fact, then the sentence is true. The only reasonable conclusion is that there is nothing that renders sentences true, or: there are no facts. The only way for there to be no facts is for there to be nothing at all.

One might say that the non-Reist has no account of truth or facts either. Obviously, a non-Reist has no need for such an account, and, moreover, even if another view has no explanation for some phenomenon, this is hardly relevant to the first view's failure. Any putative non-Reist's failure should be cold comfort to the Reist.

The second problem with Reism is that the concept of existence itself is paradoxical. Suppose the Reist is correct and at least some things exist. What can we say of existence itself? In order for Reism to be true, there must be such a thing as existence. To say that existence does not exist is to say that there isn’t anything at all. On the other hand, to say that existence exists is self-contradictory. Existence cannot exist or be since existence is what things that exist have, exhibit or are. Existence cannot have existence; existence cannot be predicated of existence without contradiction since this would imply that something has itself as a property.

Perhaps, as Kant said, existence is not a predicate at all. To say that something exists is not to attribute a property of existence to things but to say that there is something that exhibits or has properties. Intuitively, to predicate something of an entity (as Aristotle noted) is to say something about it. Hence, on Kant’s proposal, one cannot say of anything that it exists. And this is precisely my point.

In slightly different terms, if to say that something exists is to say that there is something that has properties (rather than to attribute a property of existence to them) is to deny that existence is anything at all. But if existence is not anything, there is no such thing as existence. And if there is no such thing as existence, then nothing exists.

I hope in this brief discussion to have at least cast doubt on the ‘common sense’ consensus among philosophers that there is something. Indeed, if one views the Reist position objectively, without Reist-colored lenses, Reism fails to withstand scrutiny. Reism cannot be rationally supported. We cannot say with any confidence that anything exists at all.



*Bonus points to anyone who can identify the article of which this is a parody. Also, no corrections, please.