Scientists v Philosophers

So...other than fear itself, the only thing one has to be afraid of is a scientiific philosopher...right?:devil:

Or a philosophic scientist?:devil:
 
In general I see a pretty big gap between mathematicians and scientists, by subject, temperament, etc. The scientist has to deal with physical reality. Math--pure math, that is, has nothing directly to do with material reality. Mathematics of computing, and engineering mathematics touch the sciences, but many math persons are not scientifically 'bent' (interested) at all.

Of course, those like theoreticial physics persons have very advanced mathematics skills (sometimes creative), but it's not common, afaik, for a person to be creative and first rate in both areas (theoretical physics and pure mathematics). IOW, ordinarily the physicist is taking the math that's already there, as using it.

The mathematician, the logician, and the philosopher have a lot in common, in the lack of 'real' (empirical) subject matter. Hence that crossover is well known, e.g. Bertrand Russell was all three.
 
Philosophers will always win because they can always redefine the rules to suit what ever it is they're spouting about. Scientists are kinda stuck behind that whole reality thing.

Seriously, I think most 'philosophers' are historians of philosophy or rhetoricians than philosophers.

As far as philosophy goes, I start with Socrates. I don't know much, the only way I can find out is by asking questions and all that does is raise more questions. And I tend to piss off the True Believers and power mongers.

What was the question again?
 
Scientists are tinkerers by trade which is why you see more and more of them in something called Engineering. While they do poke into the why of things, most of their duties revolve around, "if we do X, will Y happen?" "what mechanics make Y happen?" "how can we modify it to produce Z instead?"

And they have unruly hair. This stems from their habit to tinker well into the wee hours or pursue an interesting thought, collapse asleep only to be woken up three minutes before they have to be somewhere with no time to comb their hair. That and they are often less hung up on the superficial. It's about the objective in their world, making something work better, and so forth.

And yes, all scientists have a tattoo saying scientist. Mine's on my left buttock.

Philosophers have the luxury of why on the other hand. However, genuine why is indistinguishable from what every single person does whenever they take the time to think about things. So, the academic philosophers will replace why with a practice known colloquilally as "being a total twat". This practice entails quoting a bunch of drugees and madmen with theories of why that are similar to "women are made from sand because I have cheese in my shorts" or "God exists by two falls and a knockout" using made-up words and circular arguments and being oblivious to common-sense.

Which is why the only philosophers worth a damn always seem to be fiction writers of one sort or another and one or two old time lecturers.

And Pure, yes, scientists are far more deranged. But for some people people call us eccentric instead. I think it goes with the mindset that would push a big red button saying "will end world" just to see if it really does.
 
Lucifer_Carroll said:
"if we do X, will Y happen?" "what mechanics make Y happen?" "how can we modify it to produce Z instead?"

LC, that's very succinct description of a scientist's way of thinking.
Or a particluar type of scientist, any way.

Most modern scientists now take at least a couple of weeks course learning about their discipline -- the history, philosophical underpinning, etc.

Modern Science had an interesting birth at around Shakespeare's time.

It was a fusion of the mystic and the experimental. One the one hand there were people who believed that God revealed the workings of the world directly to our minds, in the language of mathemetics. On the other, people who believed you had to observe and experience (= experiment on) the world to understand it, and construct theories based on this experience.

Galileo is often cited as the first modern scientist, although I think he was just part of the spirit of the times.
 
Last edited:
Sub Joe said:
Galileo is often cited as the first modern scientist, although I think he was just part of the spirit of the times.

I usually hold Hippocrates as one of the great precursors to modern science. One who catalogued carefully the conditions of his patients, what he prescribed, and whether it worked and then built hypotheses on why certain things happened at certain times. A sort of non-formal version of what later became the scientific process, but an important version in my opinion.
 
I'm enjoying this hugely, but I'm only going to dip my toes in from time to time:)

It should be remebered that science used to be known as natural philosophy. An interesting point to ponder.

Also, my experience is that the best scientists are philisophically inclined (certainly after a few beers). How could particle physics exist if they weren't? Chaos theory is another on that springs to mind but there are lots of other examples. My own experience with research is that it has to start with a lot "why" questions, followed by a lot of "how the f**k do I do this?" questions.

I think Schroedinger's cat spent the night at my house recently, but when I looked for it it had disappeared.
 
Hi Luc

Hippocrates does deserve some credit, but his science is pretty shakey. He did recommend treating the whole person, and appreciated diet and exercize and good air. BUT he took over the earlier view of the body as composed of four 'humors' black bile, yellow bile, blood, and phlegm. Illness is the 'inbalance' of these.

The is an a priori scheme based, respectively, on the four elements, earth, fire, air, and water which at least makes a little bit of sense in physics. The 'humors' make some sense in terms of psychology, and the four classic temperaments.

Yet he (H) obviously wasn't strong on observation, since 'black' bile isn't a normal component of a body. He doesn't distinguish normal and abnormal constituents.

Lastly, the cures are often imaginative, where 'excess' of a humor is taken care of. I'm assuming, then, the Hippocrates was into 'bleeding'. Again, he can't have observed it to work. And that bad idea persisted for centuries.

---
I found this little note on Egyptian medicine, much earlier:

Egypt

The earliest surviving accounts of medical practices in Ancient Egypt date from around 2000 B.C., but in some cases describe far older traditions. Examples of surviving medical documents from ancient Egypt include:
The Edwin Smith papyrus (so named after an American Egyptologist) is believed to date from around 1600 B.C. and includes an inventory of 48 case studies of various injuries and recommended remedies. The Ebers papyrus, which is thought to date from around 1550 B.C. lists over 80 medical conditions and over 700 drugs and formulae (mainly herbal but also mineral and animal-based) as remedies.


-----
Personally, I'd say that--leaving aside medicine-- among the first genuine, natural scientists using observation are Eratostenes and Posidonius who estimated the earth's circumference from star data, at 45,000 km. That's about 10% too big, but not bad for 200 BC and no instruments like telescopes, sextants, etc.
 
Last edited:
At its highest level of study, nearly everything becomes a philosophy and its student a philosopher. Essentially, there is very little difference between a scientist and a philosopher save the specificity of what they are doing.

A philosopher is defined by their purpose and method--the former being the formulation of an explanation of existence. That's not too big of a question to answer, really, though I imagine most people think so. The subsets of existence (the fundament, the organization, the morality, the truth, the elegance, etc.) are answered more often individually, to give scope to the bigger question. Those questions are answered by virtue of the philosophical method of conceptual clarity, experential confirmation, and--maybe most of all--rational coherance.

Science is the child of philosophy, and is answering the questions about fundament and organization. The scientific method is a subset of what was already a philosophical practice, its an evolution of metaphysics. The natural procession of scientific theory is the "how", and once "how" is predictable or influential then the "why". Einstein asked "Why" after figuring "how". Copernicus did. Aristotle did. Galileo did. Hawking does. The list really does go on.

I think people have a gross misconception about philosophers, assume themselves to be one too readily because they believe themselves smart or witty or well-read-enough. I think there is a distinct lack of understanding, in the lay world, of exactly how ingrained, involved, and powerful philosophy is behind absolutely every great human achievement--and how terrible it is for people to play with toys they don't know how to use.
 
'Philosophy' comes in may flavours. The school of philosphy I was taught is known as Oxford Philosphy, and is associated with the nit-picking pedantic "what do you mean when you say "truth"' sort of questions.

One of the arguments of the Oxford School was that until we know what we're talking about, i.e. how we use words, we should be wary of plunging into the deep questions. In fact some Oxford philosphers had a reputation for dismissing nearly every philosophical dispute as "muddle-headed thinking" arising from not understand the meanings of the words we use.

In particular, words like "mind", "good", "meaning", "exist", "if", "truth" needed analysis.

The greatest exponent of this linguistic analysis is J L Austin, who's essays included a twenty-page analysis of the word "if". And almost every example in his essays and talks is taken from what he proudly called "ordinary language" -- the sort of language people use everyday.

Reading his stuff, you begin to realise how fantastically rich and complex is the everyday language we use.
 
Last edited:
Sub Joe and Joe W.

Sub Joe and Joe Wordsworth

Nice posting, Sub Joe. I'm glad you weren't dismissive of attention to language, though some philosophers nowadays seem to avoid 'big' questions in favor of linguistic analysis.
Perhaps Austin's greatest contribution was to recognize and conceptually map out the territory which includes such crucial facts as: when speaking we *do* things. Making statements, or asking questions, or commanding are just kindergarten analysis.
The supposed statement "I'm promising, at this time, to see you" is NOT at all like "I'm running, at this time, to see you." "Performatives" is a fine and useful concept. With the word, and the 'statement' we perform an act.
---
As to Joe W.

JW: A philosopher is defined by their purpose and method--the former being the formulation of an explanation of existence. That's not too big of a question to answer, really, though I imagine most people think so. The subsets of existence (the fundament, the organization, the morality, the truth, the elegance, etc.) are answered more often individually, to give scope to the bigger question. Those questions are answered by virtue of the philosophical method of conceptual clarity, experential confirmation, and--maybe most of all--rational coherance.

Science is the child of philosophy, and is answering the questions about fundament and organization. The scientific method is a subset of what was already a philosophical practice, its an evolution of metaphysics.


I do see where that's coming from, and early on, the 'natural philosophers' and 'philosophers of nature' did some investigation, or at least 'thought experiment.' I also agree that philosophy is 'inquiry' that aims at understanding, and sometimes 'truth.'

That's an overlap with science. BUT I don't see scientific method as a 'subset of what was...philosophical practice.' At least on the current scene (century). The philosopher is more like the mathematician, in that the 'objects' are not those of the scientist. They can be probed, yes, but they can also be invented or spruced up. For instance the philosopher Peirce 'investigated' *abduction,* a method of reasoning. In a sense he was inventing. A mathematician *invented* complex numbers (or pulled them down from the Platonic realm).

Except for the new particle physicists, I don't see science as able to 'invent' the objects of investigation. The scientist (at least the 'natural scientist') must look at what's there.** (Of course a industrial chemist can--and did-- come up with 'nylon'; there are 'materials' specialists looking for new alloys. I don't see that a *basic* science. The issue of the properties of nylon is not so basic as the properties of water.)

Likewise I don't think that "experimental confirmation" (Joe's phrase) is relevant to what most philosophers are doing. John Rawl's theory of justice does not stand or fall on 'evidence,' as does Einstein's theory of gravitation.

Supporting this analysis is the fact that a minority of philosophers are deeply versed in any science. Paul and Patricia Churchland, as philosophers of mind and epistemologists actually spent time learning brai- and neuroscience, but they are the exception. Occasionally a philosopher acquaints himself with a subject in order to get to an interesting analysis, but that's not the same.

In one sense then, the philosopher is generally NOT oriented to the world, at least the world of senses, and scientific measurement (matter), nor to 'experiment' or even 'the test of experience.'

In almost NO case can you take a philosopher's article, book, or even a posting of Joe Wordsworth, and check into *facts* and refute it. Except for weird claims about the pineal gland, Descartes' philosophy cannot be attacked in the science laboratory; mind/body dualism is not scientifically refutable, and maybe not even a scientific position (a claim falling within science).

In a different sense, the moral philosophers are oriented toward the world in terms of 'what is the right thing to do.' But that again is NOT like a scientific project of 'finding the right way to split the atom' or 'the right way to understand the process in the interior of the sun.'

The philosopher can't fail, except by committing errors of conceptual clarity and reasoning. If s/he says "The right thing is never to abort a fetus, and here are the reasons" then NO evidence is relevant, and no poll, even one saying "90% of persons think it's sometimes right" can be used to refute. A scientist with a wrong idea about how to proceed in science is easily refuted, at least in principle, and can be forced to abandon a line of inquiry/intervention: i.e., the atom does not split; cold fusion does not happen.

In a word, although one can say the philosopher 'investigates' the fundament and seeks the truth about it, this is DIS analogous to what most scientists do in investigating their 'fundament' or portion thereof. The scientist's 'fundament' (fundamental reality) is the objective physical world; and that may kick the scientist in the teeth.

The above is analysis and opinion; there are legitimate disagreements on these matters; and with philosophers no experimental way of settling the issues.
-----

**A couple modern 'sciences' don't fit this analysis, e.g., computer scientists, theorists of computation, and scientists of AI.
 
Last edited:
Re: Sub Joe and Joe W.

Originally posted by Pure
As to Joe W.

I do see where that's coming from, and early on, the 'natural philosophers' and 'philosophers of nature' did some investigation, or at least 'thought experiment.' I also agree that philosophy is 'inquiry' that aims at understanding, and sometimes 'truth.'

That's an overlap with science. BUT I don't see scientific method as a 'subset of what was...philosophical practice.' At least on the current scene (century). The philosopher is more like the mathematician, in that the 'objects' are not those of the scientist. They can be probed, yes, but they can also be invented or spruced up. For instance the philosopher Peirce 'investigated' *abduction,* a method of reasoning. In a sense he was inventing. A mathematician *invented* complex numbers (or pulled them down from the Platonic realm).

Every psychological model I can think of was a matter of inventing something that didn't exist and probing/questioning/reasoning its justification. I imagine there are examples in sociology, I can think of early biology examples where the "objects" weren't directly observable, but theorizing assumes their existance due to those "objects" answering the questions with accuracy.

Except for the new particle physicists, I don't see science as able to 'invent' the objects of investigation. The scientist (at least the 'natural scientist') must look at what's there.** (Of course a industrial chemist can--and did-- come up with 'nylon'; there are 'materials' specialists looking for new alloys. I don't see that a *basic* science. The issue of the properties of nylon is not so basic as the properties of water.)

Genes, tectonic plates, gravity, light-as-a-mass, etc. I think they represent science inventing concepts to explain the world where those concepts aren't directly observable at all. I believe science invents objects to investigate all the time, and in psychology (the only science I am familiar enough with to speak intelligently about) we do it--literally--every time we remodel consciousness or confront confounders.

Likewise I don't think that "experimental confirmation" (Joe's phrase) is relevant to what most philosophers are doing. John Rawl's theory of justice does not stand or fall on 'evidence,' as does Einstein's theory of gravitation.

"Experiential (as in experience) confirmation". A theory that entirely conflicts with experience and possible experience isn't very useful--that's all it really means. Joh Rawl's theory of justice might not have evidence, but it may be experientially confirmable (if we can observe the enacting of the theory and its function). To get away from Ethics (because I think people limit philosophy too often by ignoring everything it does and focusing on the more analytic parts), the political theory of Democracy as a utilitarian function (all based on philosophical justifications in politics, ethics, axiology, etc.) can be observed in practice easily. It is "experientially confirmable".

Supporting this analysis is the fact that a minority of philosophers are deeply versed in any science. Paul and Patricia Churchland, as philosophers of mind and epistemologists actually spent time learning brai- and neuroscience, but they are the exception. Occasionally a philosopher acquaints himself with a subject in order to get to an interesting analysis, but that's not the same.

I contend that it isn't a "minority". Where are you getting your statistics? You call it a "fact" when everything about my field demands familiarity with science on a discipline-association. Our Mind Philosophy people are very well informed about Psychology (me, one of them), our Metaphysicians are extremelty well informed about Physics and Mathematics. Again, please, show me where this is a "fact".

In one sense then, the philosopher is generally NOT oriented to the world, at least the world of senses, and scientific measurement (matter), nor to 'experiment' or even 'the test of experience.'

I would say that in one sense philosophers can be oriented on other things than the world, but the "test of experience" is always there--its one of the three pillars that Philosophy is built on. In no conclusive way can I say that philosophers are not "generally" oriented to the world, when what we do is the foundation of much of the world's beliefs, actions, and institutions.

In almost NO case can you take a philosopher's article, book, or even a posting of Joe Wordsworth, and check into *facts* and refute it. Except for weird claims about the pineal gland, Descartes' philosophy cannot be attacked in the science laboratory; mind/body dualism is not scientifically refutable, and maybe not even a scientific position (a claim falling within science).

I would disagree strongly with that. Of the 302 philosophy books on my shelf in my office, I think absolutely every one of them can be opened, read, and if properly understood... refuted on both rationally coherant grounds and experientially confirmable grounds. You say one can't check "facts" and do it, but in a great many, many cases you can check "facts" and do refutation (this would be the experientially confirmable statute). A great many metaphysical theories just aren't very accurate or useful anymore due to things we've found out about the nature of light--as an example. From Thales metaphysical theory to Aristotle on gravity to Cermaco's linear world of mathematics to John Aster's natural state of man... the list goes on and on.

In a different sense, the moral philosophers are oriented toward the world in terms of 'what is the right thing to do.' But that again is NOT like a scientific project of 'finding the right way to split the atom' or 'the right way to understand the process in the interior of the sun.'

I think the comparison is a bit unfair, just because they share the term "right"--it's obviously not the same usage at all. To make it MORE comparable, you'd have to say "the moral philosophers are oriented toward the world in terms of 'what is the right way to formulate this theory on morality' and the scientists are asking 'what is the right way to formulate this theory on something in the natural world'".

Their goals are remarkably similar. The Ethicist (which is my field) isn't answering the question "what is a good set-up for rightness", but rather "what is the natural state of goodness (or lack) in the world". It's an important distinction. One is dealing with something directly observable and quantitative (usually), the other is dealing with something indirectly observable and weakly quantitative (usually). This isn't to say that the Ethicist is the same as a scientist, just that their goal of clarification concerning the actual reality of the natural universe is the same.

The philosopher can't fail, except by committing errors of conceptual clarity and reasoning. If s/he says "The right thing is never to abort a fetus, and here are the reasons" then NO evidence is relevant, and no poll, even one saying "90% of persons think it's sometimes right" can be used to refute. A scientist with a wrong idea about how to proceed in science is easily refuted, at least in principle, and can be forced to abandon a line of inquiry/intervention: i.e., the atom does not split; cold fusion does not happen.

Again, you're not comparing them on equitable grounds.

If the scientist says "There's a direct connection between smoking and cancer"... no poll really matters, does it? Even one saying "90% of people think it doesn't". The theory is not dependant on the popular opinion. Similarly, if there comes an ethical framework that says "Conclusively, murder is wrong"... then no poll would matter either, as it would be a rationally coherant and seamless proof. 90% of people could bitch about it, but that wouldn't change its correctness.

You bring up, however, evidence as well--not just popular opinion (which I don't see as having any relavence). New evidence can refute the cancer-theory, or more accurately, new evidence can raise new questions about the cancer-theory that the cancer-theory has to answer or be represented as an inaccuracy. However, if science established something conclusively (the standards of philosophy), then new evidence would not be able to refute it at all--if it is true, given all possible variables, then it is true. Seems like science and philosophy, in this regard aren't too dissimilar... you're just comparing an incomplete scientific theory to a complete philosophical one and then pointing a finger and saying "one can be refuted the other can't"...

...well, obviously, because we've assumed conclusion for only one of them.
 
I still maintain that it comes down to the fundamental questions: "how" and "why". At its most basic, scientists revolve around how and philosophers revolve around why.

Do scientists still ask why? Of course. The type of personality that is drawn to play endlessly with how would be likely to leave such an inviting question alone without at least a little effort. One of the reasons I suspect that many scientists also tend to be the most avid speculative fiction readers (at any sci-fi convention, i'd wager a good 50% of the atendees are involved or want to be involved in science or engineering based careers) and often as perdita pointed out interested in various arts.

However, their pursuits almost eclusively revolve around how. They may ask, "why do bugs crawl?" but they don't sit around thinking about the metaphysical nature of insect motility. Their approach will invariably revolve around examining live bugs, dissecting dead ones, and so forth. Essentially while they maintain a search for the why, they in truth pursue the how. What they end up solving is a thorough work on how bugs crawl.

You can test this by the evolution debate. The scientists were bringing forth the hows of evolution. How it works, the evidence gathered on it, the experiments done that show how the mechanics work. Ask in a non-virtual network and a scientist will do the same, refer to pages of works and full-on books that detail very exquisitely the how of evolution as we understand it. However, if one was to say like a six-year-old, okay but why? the scientist would only blurt out something about chance with a spoken question mark at the end.

Philosophers on the other hand are less bound by the hows. The best philosophers often ignore how altogether. It is about the big questions, which are all why questions. Why do we exist? Why are we here? Why me? Why am I able to think about why? The ones that aren't are invariably what if questions which are essentially just an offshoot of why.

The thing is, we are all philosophers. Oh sure, there may be the rare human being who has never once thought about the universe and their place in it, who has merely (if you can attach such a label to one who lived that intensely) lived. But the vast majority of people at some point in their life has speculated. Even those almost at the lived person level will have some sort of answer book for the big questions. Answers they decided at some point were the right ones.

The problem is, in my opinion, that this left no distinction for academics. In science, in how questioning, there is a distinction for scientists built on how much of previously solved hows you know. The more solved questions you have, the more you can create truly unsolved problems and also be able to solve the remaining unsolved problems. Also knowledge in the hows may be used to build upon the old hows and improve techniques and measuring tools. For scientists, the thing known as academia has some required use. Without X knowledge you can't solve Y.

However philosophers can easily think about Y without any knowledge of X. No one needs what others have thought about Y to build their own suspicions about it. Often it gets in the way.

Because of that academia serves little purpose in a philosophers life. However to academic philosophers and disciples of what X thought about Y, this is heresy. And one needed to be covered up. If people realized that everyone has an equal ability to think about the Y(or why), that what others thought about the Y wasn't important, and that no one's beliefs about Y can ever be proven more valid than anothers, then academic philosophy will be seen as unneccessary. Why go someplace special, pay a lot of money, fill your head with what other people you don't agree with think, and so forth. Wouldn't it be better to just jump in and pursue why.

I have no doubt that if science didn't require so much knowledge about hows that have been discovered that that would be the best path for it to and that academic scientists would play the same "hide the truth, lock the ivory tower, silly bugger" games.

At least that's what it seems to me.

That's not to discourage or demean the processes of how and why, of science and philosophy. They are ever-tempting fruits, the lure of humanity. We can't resist those questions, looking at them, taking them apart. Especially those of us of a curious nature. It's what makes us human.
 
A scientist says, "We can take 'em both apart and tell which is which."

A philosopher says, "If you take 'em apart, you will have neither. You have any grass?"
 
I think the philosophers are up by 3 pts in the 4th quarter, but the scientists are driving . . .
 
I find myself in the intelectually stimulating position of agreeing with most of what JW said in his last post. I'm knackered and got to get to bed but afore a go - Luc see below

I still maintain that it comes down to the fundamental questions: "how" and "why". At its most basic, scientists revolve around how and philosophers revolve around why.

I fundamentally disagree. Scientists have to ask the "why questions. If they did not then there would be no "progress" in knowledge. True there is also a need to understand the "how", but the "why" comes first and this is most certainly not the sole province of the philosopher.

It can be argued that philosophy exists to address the specifically "human" condition, emotions, longings etc and that as such is separate from science - which could be described as the process od describing and ubderstanding nature. However, I disagree. I think the two disciplines are and always have been part of the same "whole". Both are human constructs and both exist to make sense of the way that WE perceive our universe. The only difference is that science can be tested experimentally and philosophy experientally.

I think that mathematics is crucial here because it belongs to both sets (sorry Pure but mathematics is part of science too). Without it we would be unable to understand/predict/describe the world we live in - in either sense.

By the way Schroedinger's cat was back tonight. Ran away at the sight of the box I had prepared for him:devil:
 
I can say with confidence born from both actually doing philosophy on the academic and scholarly level and involving myself with the community of professional philosophers for several years now that philosophy is far, far, far, far from just an enterprise devoted to the answering of questions like "why am I here?" or "why can I think?" or "why me?" and such.

We ask questions of how just as often as science does, betraying just how close the two are. The metaphysical construction of Nicholas of Cusa's universe, the Leibniz/Locke/Newton association over the condition of the mind, much of Aquinas's attempts to systemetize the timeline of the cosmos, Aristotle on nature, Plato on just and unjust acts, Shoemaker on the nature of consciousness and the unpredicated "I", Russell or Grice on the fundament and development of language, the list goes on and on.

Those aren't esoteric questions of "why" that everyone does when they sit around and pretend to been deep and thoughtful people. Those are explorations into what we know about the world and how it works, putting that information into a framework that can predict and potentially influence other natural events or things, and doing so by virtue of a trackable, step-by-step method of conclusion.

Their being right or wrong is as meaningful as discussing other scientific relational frames... which is to say, we can say they were inaccurate, but we can't say they weren't science. A great deal of philosophy is propositional science: observable, refutable, evidentiary, causal, correlative and cohesive.
 
I agree with Joe that linking 'why' to philosophy and 'how' to science is not really that satisfactory. Many philosophy questions are like: What is meant by; What is 'the Good'; How; How do we understand; How does one account for...? The (somewhat inaccurate) linkage comes from thinking of philosophy as primarily dealing with the 'big questions' of religion and ethics, and secondarily with other topics. Scientists often ask why questions too; why are helium and hydrogen so common in the sun's composition? why is mercury toxic to humans; why does the sun not set in summer, in northern areas; why are tigers disappearing?

As to the main point,

A great deal of philosophy is propositional science: observable, refutable, evidentiary, causal, correlative and cohesive.

many cases you can check "facts" and do refutation (this would be the experientially confirmable statute).

I think it's true of only a small part of philosophy since Descartes, though there is clearly *relevance* of human experience. Since I cant pursue the matter this evening, I'd ask Joe to list 10-15 of the classics of 20th century philosophy. Then we will see if indeed, evidence could be gathered which would refute them.
 
Last edited:
No doubt, this thread proves that Pure should get out of his mom's basement on occasion.

And that it's time for the Galaxy Song.

Whenever life get you down, Mrs. Brown...
And things seem hard or tough...
And people are stupid, obnoxious or daft...
And you feel that you've had quite enooouuuugh!

(Singing)
Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And revolving at nine hundred miles an hour.
It's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned,
The Sun that is the source of all our power.
The Sun and you and me, and all the stars that we can see,
Are moving at a million miles a day.
In the outer spiral arm, at forty thousand miles an hour,
Of the Galaxy we call the Milky Way.

Our Galaxy itself contains one hundred billion stars,
It's one hundred thousand light-years side-to-side.
It bulges in the middle, sixteen thousand light-years thick,
But out by us it's just three thousand light-years wide.
We're thirty thousand light-years from galactic central point,
We go round every two hundred million years.
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe.
The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding,
In all of the directions it can whizz.
As fast as it can go, at the speed of light you know,
Twelve million miles a minute (and that's the fastest speed there is).
So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth.
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space,
Because there's bugger all down here on Earth.
 
Last edited:
Originally posted by Pure
I think it's true of only a small part of philosophy since Descartes, though there is clearly *relevance* of human experience. Since I cant pursue the matter this evening, I'd ask Joe to list 10-15 of the classics of 20th century philosophy. Then we will see if indeed, evidence could be gathered which would refute them.

If I need 10-15, I guess I can go look some up... but--it's be a product of two clarifications: (1) asking for "the classics of 20th Century Philosophy" is sort of like judging the health of all baseball players by looking at Babe Ruth and Daryll Strawberry--philosophy is no sooner limited to the names most popular for its boundaries than scientists are (and there's a ton of excellent science going on that isn't covered in USA Today or the local Sci-Fi convention); and (2) we have to accept that if evidence can be gathered, then we have to accept that the evidence may represent refutation or (more importantly) confounding.

Refutation is a tall order for any theory, with regards to some kind of evidence--but the evidence representing a confounding variable or event is much easier, and that may lead to refutation (basic science stuff there, I'm sure nobody has a problem understanding that).

I like J. Rachels, in the category of Ethics, for an example of where evidence from natural history and anthropology could go a long way to overthrow his theory of the evolution of altruism as a pseudo-natural selection. Obviously, if we have sufficient documentation of how there is no significant statistical change in the number of sociopaths or frauds or selfish people between then and now, it'd provide confounding variables and events to his theory... enough confounders of that sort, cultural information, maybe sociology of the time and the place of those Rachels would regard as being most likely to have been bred out, and we could refute his theory entirely.

In the Mind-Body category, how can I not mention P. Churchland? " an individual's theory-of-the-world is a specific point in that individual's error-synaptic weight vector space"... it's a sublime way of reinventing the proposition set theory of how we structure knowing. Obviously, the natural response to this is, as a theory of theories go is, if we're to form theoretical relation about propositional sets, ought we not see activity when addressing those propositional sets in a biological sense? This seems to work, but moreso in abstraction, when we compare this to more of the mapping work in neuroscience (and neuropsychology), we find that there doesn't appear to be as strong a correlation between what we're proposing happens and where what we're supposing happens. It's still a good theory, but the last ten years or so have thinned it with confounders.

...I guess we could do more if we have to. I like Shoemaker, too, but his confounders will come from the development of computer programs. Taking philosophy as a greater whole than the 20th century (not sure why we have to focus on that), there is just no end to the number of instances where philosophical theory met with technological or observational development such that the philosophical theory was in contradiction, confoundment, or refutation (in some cases). Happened a lot.

When we dig deeper and deeper, we don't actually find water, and why the damn probe slowed down on it's way back to earth is greatly confounding to Aristotle; how can we respect the dialectic after 1986?; oh, there's just a lot going on.
 
Hi Joe, {some additions, 1-27-05}
Here's one of your claims. I asked for some example notable 2-20th cen. works, but I don't see you doing much come up any, in support of your claims; you mainly rely on one exceptional example (Churchlands) I supplied you.

JW: Of the 302 philosophy books on my shelf in my office, I think absolutely every one of them can be opened, read, and if properly understood... refuted on both rationally coherant grounds and experientially confirmable grounds. You say one can't check "facts" and do it, but in a great many, many cases you can check "facts" and do refutation (this would be the experientially confirmable statute).

Here's a typical capsule from a course in 20th century (Western) philosophy (see below); I've take from it several names and books/articles. Would it be safe to assume some of these are among your 302?. Here are the examples I pick, based on the notable philsophers dealt with in the course:

Husserl, Ideas
Heidegger, Being and Time
Sartre, Being and Nothingness
Moore, Principia Ethica, Refutation of Idealism; Defense of
Common Sense
Russell, Principles of Mathematics, The analysis of mind, 1921
-The analysis of matter, 1927
-Human Knowledge, its Scope and Limits, 1948
Rudolf Carnap, Empiricism, Semantics, and Ontology, 1950
-Meaning and Necessity, 1956
-Logical Structure of the World
Wittgenstein, Tractatus, Philosophical Investigations
Quine: From a Logical Point of View; Two dogmas of empiricism
Popper,
Ryle, Concept of Mind
Kripke
Peirce, The Fixation of Belief
Dewey
Putnam, Reason Truth and History ("Brains in a Vat" portion)
Habermas, The Theory of Communicative Action
Rawls, A theory of justice; Two concepts of rules.
--------
Are you willing to take this list more or less as is (small mods, ok) and tell me about one case where experience (empirical data; facts [about the natural world]) might refute or (your word) confound or support what's proposed. (I'm setting aside the realm of mathematical entities; and statements, sequences of deductive reasoning, or equations connecting them, as being the sort of 'facts' in question.)

My general position, as I stated, is that most of 'core' 20th century philosophy only invites criticism in terms of conceptual clarity and reasoning; it is not confirmed/supported (or not) from facts about the world (="nature"). Based on further reflection, I will concede that possibly facts about language are an exception; they ARE discussed and relevant in some of these works; but perhaps you'll agree to leave that aside for the moment so that we may concentrate on the 'facts' of psychology, social science and natural science and their relation to modern philosophy.)

In a word, I'm suggesting a large gap, and difference of type between what most philosophers do, and what all scientists do.

---------
{example course description}

Philosophy 264:
20th Century Philosophy
University of Arizona
Homepage: http://www.u.arizona.edu/~harnish/

{This description and a fine bibliography of primary and secondary sources for the course are at
http://phil.web.arizona.edu/faculty/harnish/teaching/264-2002-WEB-doc.htm }

[Harnish's] Course Description: This course aims to give student an overview of some of the most important and influential ideas of the 20th century. The course is also designed to help students think critically about fundamental ideas that have shaped contemporary culture.

20th century philosophy began in part as a reaction to philosophical idealism --the dominant position in 19th century philosophy (see Philosophy 263). This reaction followed three major paths. The first path, called 'pragmatism', (Peirce, James, Dewey) is mostly an American movement. The second path, called 'analytic' philosophy, began at the turn of the century with Frege in Germany, and with Russell and Moore in England, and has been practiced (with the striking exceptions of Frege, the Vienna Circle, and Wittgenstein) mostly in England, America, Canada, Australia --all English speaking countries.

The major milestones in the development of analytic philosophy are: Frege, Logical Atomism (Russell, early Wittgenstein), Logical Positivism (Carnap), Ordinary Language Philosophy (later Wittgenstein) and the contemporary period (Quine, Kripke, Putnam). The third path is called 'continental' philosophy, and it is practiced mainly on the European continent in French and German.

Major milestones in continental philosophy are Phenomenology (Husserl), Existentialism (Heidegger, Sartre). Due to limitations on time, we will select from these movements, ideas and thinkers (see the tentative schedule below).


{Followed by a bibiliography which I do not reproduce here.}
 
Last edited:
OK Pure, I'll present you with one of the most original philosophical texts that I have read in recent years - written by two scientists. I've probably pointed you in this direction before but alcohol is a great amnesiac!

"Figments of Reality" by Ian Stewart & Jack Cohen.

The distinction between "how" and "why" is totally artificial - as well you know. Many scientists are only interested in the "why", and many philosophers concern themselves with the "how".

By the way - what exactly IS the metaphysical consideration of how an insect moves?
 
Hi Haldir
Ok, let's talk about it, but I can't go buy it just now. How about we go by this summary? Is it accurate?

Note of Hesitation: It appears to be a work on evolutionary biology and theoretical biology, by a biologist (second author), so I can't very well fault it, as a layperson. Do you see that the reviewer found one of the clearly philosophic sections (re 'free will') to be obscure and unconvincing. Still I'm interested in the topics, and a fan of Haken, whom the reviewer cites.

http://psyche.cs.monash.edu.au/v5/psyche-5-33-scott.html

The Evolution of Body, Mind and Culture

Review of Figments of Reality by Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen

Review by Alwyn Scott
Department of Mathematics
University of Arizona
Tucson, AZ 85721
U.S.A.

and

Department of Mathematical Modelling
Technical University of Denmark
DK-2800 Lyngby
DENMARK

acs@math.arizona.edu

Copyright (c) Alwyn Scott 1999.

PSYCHE, 5(33), December 1999
http://psyche.cs.monash.edu.au/v5/psyche-5-33-scott.html

KEYWORDS: Emergence, intelligence vs. extelligence, mind, consciousness, culture, complicity, contextualism, game theory, biological evolution.

REVIEW OF: Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen (1997) Figments of Reality: The Evolution of the Curious Mind. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, xiii + 325 pp. IBSN 0-521-57155-3. £16.95 (US$24.95) Hbk.



Considering the dozens of books on the nature of consciousness that have descended upon us over the past decade or so, I opened Figments of Reality with some hesitation. Would this study of mind really "break new ground and develop profoundly thought-provoking and novel insights into the nature of evolution, science and humanity" (as promised on the dust-jacket)? Or should it be expected to sink - like Roderick Usher's castle - into the tarn of conflicting claims and counterclaims, leaving no trace on the surface?

Happily, mathematician Ian Stewart and biologist Jack Cohen live up to the claims of their promoters. They have given us a book that presents novel ideas in a lively style, which the general scientific reader will be able to appreciate. Focussing attention on a few key issues, the authors dismiss much of the intellectual trivia that confuses current discussions of consciousness, showing little patience with theoretical arguments based on fictitious zombies and attempts to relate studies of consciousness to the vagaries of quantum theory.

This book begins at the beginning, recognizing the obvious fact that mind emerged from living organisms and asking the readers to consider how intelligent life developed. Interestingly, almost half of the book is devoted to describing the biological context in which our brains evolved.

Figments opens with complementary critiques of the related concepts of reductionism and a theory of everything, pointing out that both are problematic in the real world of experimental science. Diligently applied to the biological realm, a theory of everything runs afoul of a practically unlimited number of possibilities at higher levels of description. Similarly, current research in high energy physics - for all its intellectual brilliance and excitement - is unlikely to modify the facts of chemistry, upon which biology is based.

Thus the biochemist, the cytologist and the physiologist have no professional stake in becoming knowledgeable about (say) quarks or Higgs bosons or string theory or whatever. Such fundamental concepts, as every bioscientist knows in his or her gut, are simply irrelevant to the development of meaningful models of living organisms.

These rather obvious caveats - often blithely ignored by theorists in the physical sciences - are brought home to the readers of this book through an informative and entertaining discussion of game theory. Although some games (uninteresting ones) can be well played using simple strategies, all of the interesting games (chess, bridge, go, and so on) offer so very many possibilities that sure-fire generalizations about strategy are practically impossible. The course of evolution, Stewart and Cohen suggest, is of the second sort, where the rules of the game change over time and the aim is to stay in play. No argument there, but how has nature managed to discern and implement winning strategies in this most interesting of games?

The answer is a phenomenon that the authors call complicity, a complex sort of positive feedback threading through interacting levels of the biosphere, and allowing unexpected causal loops to arise. As a striking example of how intricate complicit phenomena can be, the authors cite a parasitic flatworm that spends part of its life inside an ant, while its reproductive stage is inside a cow. The technique that nature has evolved to allow the worm to transfer from one animal to the other is described as follows.

The parasite infects the ant, and presses on a particular part of its brain. This interferes with the normal behavior of the brain, which causes the ant to climb a grass stem, grasp it with its jaws, and hang there, permanently attached. So when a cow comes along and eats the grass, the parasite enters the cow.

This three-way complicity (among worm, ant and cow) thus generates an emergent phenomenon (the clever reproductive strategy of the flatworm) which hardly seems amenable to reductive analysis.

Over the last four billion years or so, many such phenomena have emerged in the biological realms. Often these are minor explorations away from currently successful strategies, but others are full-fledged inventions, leading to unanticipated explosions of new life forms. Some - like the flatworm's reproductive strategy - are called parochial because they are rather special and of significance to only a few species, while others - like photosynthesis, flight and sex - are termed universal because they have been invented several times in different contexts, and would therefore be expected to emerge again in any rerun of the evolutionary story.

Human intelligence, the authors argue, is a universal emergent phenomenon.

How did human intelligence evolve? Here is where students of the mind will find Figments particularly interesting. "The transition from brains to minds," Stewart and Cohen assert, "can be traced back to the time when animals came up with non-genetic routes to protect their offspring" (p.27). Mammals, they tell us, are the prime providers of such protection, offering a temperature controlled prenatal environment and instant nourishment for the newborn, but why should these amenities encourage the evolution of mind?

In an argument that harks back to Julian Huxley, the authors suggest that parents thereby become not mere tenders of their offspring but teachers, providing a context in which intelligence can develop. No more must survival smarts be either genetically stored or relearned through trial and error by each individual; the parents can pass on useful tricks. Moreover - especially in times of famine - the quicker of the nestlings are rewarded with more food, further increasing the chance of eventual reproduction by the more intelligent offspring.

When individuals began to band together - in wolf packs, families of chimpanzees or early tribes of humanoids - the young could learn from several adults, and again the best learners would tend to become the best survivors. In this manner, culture provides a context in which intelligence can develop, and once evolution started down this road, things got ever better for the brainy. The subsequent development of language and rites of passage allowed yet more of a tribe's experience to be transmitted, while placing growing demands on the memories of the elders. Eventually, these mnemonic burdens were eased by the invention of writing, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Do you get the picture? Intelligence and culture comprise a complicit pair, the corresponding positive feedback loop (growth of intelligence stimulating culture and growth of culture inducing intelligence) leading to the emergence of mind. The authors refer to their general perspective as contextualism, which is not intended to replace reductionism but to complement it.

Refreshingly, this book extends our understanding beyond the standard notion that: (i) in response to competitive pressures our brains somehow evolved, (ii) these enlarged brains somehow managed to invent language and became conscious, and (iii) our task as students of the mind is to discover where consciousness is located in the machinery of the brain. A formulation is thus provided that emphasizes the context in which mental processes emerge over merely looking at the neural components of the brain and trying to figure out how they might be interacting.

As Stewart and Cohen put it: "Language and intelligence evolved together, both being inextricably linked to culture" (p.10). To comprehend a human mind, they argue, we must study brains in context, as biological organs and component of culture.

Well, that is the gist of Figments of Reality - according to my reading of it - but the book includes much more that will be of interest to the general reader. Every chapter begins with a provocative story or account that is deftly woven into the subsequent discussion. In addition, each chapter features an amusing fictional perspective presented by the inhabitants of some distant planet. (Although these latter features may be appealing to sci-fi mavens, I found them somewhat distracting, as the meat-and-potatoes discussions seem clear enough on their own.)

While there is relatively little about the brain itself in this book, the authors do consider the importance of symmetries in neural processing. Thus, a discussion of the recognition of male and female faces takes advantage of an eigenvector (or eigenface) that embodies the difference between an average him and her. (Enthusiasts of the quantum mind approach to consciousness studies should note that such ideas are the coin of modern nonlinear science, and not at all dependent upon the extrapolation of quantum theory to the macroscopic world: a point that was clearly made by Niels Bohr back in 1933.) Unfortunatly, there is no mention of recent research by Hermann Haken and his colleagues in connection with this work, although this sort of eigenvector analysis is closely related to ideas presented in his book Principles of Brain Functioning (1996).

A short chapter on free will is interesting but ultimately somewhat disappointing because the authors seem to be sitting on both sides of the philosophical fence. Recognizing that the assumption of free will is necessary for the orderly functioning of any culture and scornful of the inflated claims of genetic determinists, they note that theoretical reasons can be imagined for anything that occurs. To me, at least, this is as true as it is unconvincing.

It is always possible to cobble together some sort of explanation of whatever transpires after the fact. Does this imply that the future is determined by the present? What might such an assertion mean? This chapter ends with the statement: "Therefore free will is not just an illusion: it is a figment rendered real by the evolutionary complicity of mind and culture" (p.241). Maybe I am dense, but this doesn't mean much to me. Perhaps the authors would have been wiser to omit this chapter, admitting that they do not know what free will is.

Two final chapters deal with some of the details of our many interactions with the surrounding culture, noting that a very large amount of knowledge is presently available to us all through libraries, schools, theater, television, and more recently the World Wide Web. The first of these chapters, entitled Extelligence, considers in some detail the ever increasing pool of information in which we are embedded in by our technological culture. The authors consider their notion of extelligence to be somewhat different from (say) Karl Popper's World 3, because it involves complicit interactions with individuals in a culture. This is, in my view, such an extremely important aspect of the overall subject of consciousness studies, that it deserves a book of its own.

Perhaps the authors will team up with an informed and imaginative ethnologist in the not too distant future and work on such a project. The last chapter - entitled "Simplex, Complex, Multiplex" - describes the relationships between the organization of biological cells and human social systems. From this perspective, the village is analogous to a bacterium, whereas a town is compared to an eukaryote, and a city to a multi-celled organism. The chapter title alludes to increasingly sophisticated ways that individuals have of perceiving the intricacy of their social environments in a human culture.

Why does Figments work so well? In part, of course, because both of the authors are skilled and thoughtful writers, but that is not alone sufficient as several recent books on the nature of mind by science journalists have clearly shown. In addition to demonstrating the necessary writing ability, the authors stem from appropriate professional backgrounds. One (Stewart) is a respected mathematician with a deep knowledge of current physical science, and the other (Cohen) is a biologist with wide appreciation for the varieties of living creatures. As one learns from this book, a thorough familiarity with both of these scientific realms is necessary for achieving an understanding of the nature of consciousness.

If you are seriously interested in the scientific study of consciousness, buy Figments of Reality. And read it!



References

Haken, H. (1996). Principles of brain functioning: A synergetic approach to brain activity, behavior and cognition. Berlin: Springer Verlag.
 
Last edited:
couldn't agree more with the review you posted Pure.
 
Back
Top