Showing posts with label metaphysics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label metaphysics. Show all posts

Friday, August 29, 2014

Artur Nilsson - A Non-Reductive Science of Personality, Character, and Well-Being Must Take the Person's Worldview into Account


This brief opinion paper from Frontiers in Psychology: Personality and Social Psychology offers a moderately integral model of personality assessment, one that incorporates worldviews, but more importantly, also includes inner sense (subjectivity) and experience, his version of non-reductive materialism. 

Interesting stuff.

Full Citation: 
Nilsson A. (2014). A non-reductive science of personality, character, and well-being must take the person's worldview into account. Frontiers in Psychology: Personality and Social Psychology; 5:961. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2014.00961

A non-reductive science of personality, character, and well-being must take the person's worldview into account


Artur Nilsson
  • Department of Psychology, Lund University, Lund, Sweden
In his foundational work for personality psychology, Allport (1927, 1937) distinguished personality from character. Personality was, on Allport's account, a descriptive concept referring to a psycho-physical structure, whereas character was personality evaluated in accordance with moral norms. When he introduced the paradigmatic “lexical” method of deriving personality trait terms from the dictionary, he therefore sought to exclude all trait terms with ostensive normative content. This approach had a profound effect upon the field, and researchers are still today working on how to optimally purge personality of normative content (e.g., Bäckström et al., 2009; Pettersson and Turkheimer, 2010). Its appropriateness as a paradigm for the entire field of personality psychology can, however, be questioned (Kristjánsson, 2012; Nilsson, 2014). It is plausible that some personality characteristics particularly relevant to psychic illness, human flourishing, and moral behavior are intrinsically value-laden (Cloninger et al., 1993; Cawley et al., 2000; Peterson and Seligman, 2004).

I will focus on Cloninger's approach here, because he has, in addition to introducing an influential model of character, discussed the philosophical foundations of the study of character and well-being. For Cloninger (2004), character is not only value-laden; it refers to uniquely human aspects of personality representing “what people make of themselves intentionally” (p. 44), as contrasted with their animalistic temperament. He wants the science of character and well-being to transcend the dichotomy between materialist reductionism and Cartesian dualism, by taking the person's consciousness, agency, and processes of self-growth seriously while integrating this with knowledge about the human physical and biological constitution. Although I agree with this idea of having a non-reductive psychological science, I disagree with Cloninger about what it entails. I will therefore review Cloninger's (2004) approach from a philosophical perspective, in a critical and, hopefully, constructive way. I will defend a notion of non-reductive psychology based upon contemporary academic philosophy and argue that Cloninger's approach is not genuinely non-reductive. I will suggest that a non-reductive psychological science must take the person's worldview into account and argue that Cloninger's approach limits our understanding of human psychology by not considering the role of worldviews in the development of character and well-being.

Non-Reductive Materialism

Today, philosophers who seek to transcend the dichotomy between reductive materialism and Cartesian dualism generally adopt some version of non-reductive materialism (Davidson, 1963, 1970; Fodor, 1974; Searle, 1983, 1992; Chalmers, 1996), claiming that although all mental states and events are causally realized in the brain, there is not a particular type of brain state corresponding to each type of mental state. The reason for this is that we identify and individuate mental states in terms of a folk psychological language of “attitudes,” “beliefs,” “desires,” “emotions,” “goals,” etc., which is holistic, insofar as it describes mental states as partly constituted by their relations to each other and their neurophysiological realization and behavioral manifestation as therefore dependent upon the entire network of mental states. In other words, on non-reductive materialism, no particular belief, goal, desire, or other intentional state, let alone a more complex folk psychological concept such as “personality,” “character,” or “well-being,” can even in principle be isolated and reduced to neurophysiology or behavior, and these irreducible folk psychological concepts are crucial for understanding human psychology.

A key implication of non-reductive materialism is that human experiences and actions are imbued with meaning; to treat human beings as persons, rather than mere mechanical systems or animals, is to treat them as linguistic beings, who construct reasons and act upon them (Hacker, 2007), partly driven by needs to create and sustain meanings and to assuage fears and anxieties fueled by their uniquely human awareness of their existential condition (Nilsson, 2013). Although meaning-making is today studied in such different fields as the psychology of adaptation and well-being (Janoff-Bulman, 1992; Wong, 2012), social psychology (Greenberg et al., 1986; Heine et al., 2006), and neuropsychology (Gazzaniga, 2005), researchers rarely take into consideration the fact that meaning is constructed within a worldview—the person's most basic beliefs, values, constructs, and scripts for understanding, evaluating, and acting upon reality, which ground the network within which more specific beliefs, goals, intentions, etc., are embedded. A person necessarily lives through a worldview—s/he can only, for example, act, morally or immorally, upon a worldview, and experience well-being, in its distinctly human form, through a worldview. A non-reductive psychological science must therefore treat the person's worldview as an aspect of personality in its own right, not reducible to behavioral or mental regularities (i.e., traits; Nilsson, 2014). Although personalists (Allport, 1937; Stern, 1938; Mounier, 1952; Lamiell, 1987), narrative psychologists (Tomkins, 1965, 1979; McAdams, 1992, 2008), and construct psychologists (Kelly, 1955; Little, 2005) have contributed to such an endeavor, worldviews do not receive the attention they deserve in contemporary psychology (Koltko-Rivera, 2004; Nilsson, 2013, 2014).

Cloninger's Transcendentalism

Cloninger's (2004) approach instead merges elements of folk spirituality (cf. Forman, 2004), Eastern thought, Hegelian metaphysics, and quantum physics. He suggests that a person's consciousness can be developed, through a process catalyzed by meditation, reflection, and contemplation, toward increasing self-awareness, wisdom, goodness, and well-being. In the final, self-transcendent stage, the person is freed of all “dualistic” thought of body, mind, and spirit as separate and recognizes that “the individual mind is like a node in a universal Internet of consciousness” (p. 36), thereby attaining “coherence” of body, mind, and spirit, unconditional well-being, potential access to other minds, and “direct self-aware perception of what is real and true without misunderstanding as a result of preconceptions, prejudices, fears, desires, and conflicts” (p. 325). Cloninger (2004) also draws parallels between self-transcendent consciousness and quantum phenomena, including the impossibility of precisely determining the state and location of quantum particles (“non-locality”) and the Higgs field within which particles acquire mass, and he claims, furthermore, that the unpredictability (“non-causality”) of quantum physical events is “another way of talking about freedom” (p. 73) and that “the thought of gifted people involves intuitive leaps or quantum jumps, not deductive algorithms” (p. 65; cf. Capra, 1975).

Cloninger (2004, p. 317) makes clear that what he is proposing is not just a psychological theory, but also a philosophy of science:
The science of well-being is founded on the understanding that there is an indissoluble unity to all that is or can be. The universal unity of being is recognized widely as an empirical fact, as well as an essential organizing principle for any adequate science [..] the universal unity of being is the only viewpoint consistent with any coherent and testable science.
This passage is puzzling insofar as it describes the postulated unity of being both as empirical fact, which implies that it is open to empirical refutation, and as essential organizing principle constitutive of research in this area, which implies that it is, in Quine's (1953) terminology, close to the center of the scientific field and therefore not easily changed. Given that Cloninger (2004) suggests that recognition of the unity of being-thesis is ultimately intuitive and not amenable to rational argumentation or objective test, and that its critics lack self-awareness, this thesis is more properly treated as a presupposition and interpretive framework than as an empirical fact (Popper, 1959).

But whether this is an appropriate, non-reductive foundation for the study of persons is questionable. On the non-reductive account I am proposing, what is essential is that we take the person's subjective experiences and their meanings seriously, in psychological terms, treating them as real and irreducible; not that we assume that special forms of experience convey true insight into the nature of reality. One problem with Cloninger's approach is precisely that it does not give meaning-making the role that it deserves in personality measurement and explanation of experience and action. Cloninger (2004) offers parallels to quantum physics rather than an account of reason-based explanation (Davidson, 1963; Searle, 1983) and Cloninger et al. (1993) measure character with traditional trait-type items which focus on typical behaviors and experiences, rather than worldview-type items which ask persons about their most basic beliefs, values, goals, and so on (Nilsson, 2014). Cloninger's use of quantum physics to describe the mind is, furthermore, whether interpreted as an “analogy” (p. 65) or as an explanation of “actual” processes underlying self-aware consciousness (p. 328), difficult to reconcile with non-reductive materialism. Although it is conceivable that the hitherto unidentified mechanisms through which the brain causes consciousness, agency, and certain qualitative feels operate at the quantum level (Chalmers, 1996; Searle, 1997), the folk psychological concepts that render our experiences and actions meaningful and agentic are, because of their logical holism, as irreducible to quantum physics as to classical physics, and we have little reason to assume that the causes of conscious experiences are isomorphic with their qualitative feels (Stenger, 1993; cf. Brown et al., 2013). Similar to this, Cloninger's (p. 38) invocation of Allport's definition of personality as a “psycho-physical system” is inconsistent with non-reductive materialism, insofar as it is understood as implying that personality can be reduced to a neuro-physiological causal system (Nilsson, 2013). Finally, the Hegelian monist metaphysics Cloninger (2004) draws upon is rejected today even by Hegelians. For example, Pippin (1989, p. 4)—one of several philosophers reinterpreting Hegel in non-metaphysical terms in order to rehabilitate his philosophy—thinks that the “metaphysical monist or speculative, contradiction-embracing logician [..] is not the historically influential Hegel.”

Implications for Research

Cloninger et al. (1993) model divides character into: (1) self-directedness, or agency, which incorporates acting deliberatively on personal goals and values, taking responsibility for actions, and developing resources for goal pursuit and self-acceptance, (2) cooperativeness, or communion, which incorporates compassion, empathy, helpfulness, acceptance of others, and acting on moral principles rather than self-interest, and (3) self-transcendence, which incorporates a sense of unity underlying the universe and connecting the self with the world around it, intuitive apprehension of relationships that cannot be explained rationally or observed objectively, and experiences of flow, absorption, and self-forgetfulness. These aspects of character correspond, respectively, to the person's relation to the self, to others, and to the universe. As such, they undoubtedly refer to basic aspects of our intentional engagement with the world. But the model does not take different worldviews into account. Self-transcendence, in particular, appears conflated with spiritual self-transcendence—that is, self-transcendence through spirituality. Self-transcendence, in a more general sense, can be understood as the pursuit of meaning and identity through participation in, and selfless contribution to, something larger than the self, whether this is a divine or spiritual reality, a community of persons or sentient beings, or an ideological ideal (Schwartz, 1992; MacDonald et al., 1998; Koltko-Rivera, 2004). It requires only that the person is connected to the outside world through intentional directedness at, and engagement with, that world; it does not require an actual physical or spiritual connection between the person and that toward which s/he directs him-/herself.

More generally, I suggest that character can be understood in terms of the interaction between the three proposed dimensions and the person's worldview, and that researchers therefore need to investigate how different worldviews facilitate and inhibit the development of character. Because character is an intrinsically normative concept, what counts as character is partly an empirical question—character is what turns out to produce desirable psychological, moral, and social consequences. We might ask, for example, if, and if so how, different worldviews can be reconciled with ethical self-transcendence, selfless love, genuine happiness, tolerance, creativity, autonomy, and experiences of wonder, beauty, and awe. It is, I suggest, unlikely that there is one ultimate path of character development suitable for all persons. Cloninger's (2004, p. 29) own observation that “outstanding exponents of positive philosophy have often had limited success in helping their followers develop coherence” is true, I suggest, partly because neither worldview nor the development of character and well-being is a one-size-fits-all. By considering the full potential range of personalities emerging from the diversity of human worldviews, we can, I contend, better understand and encourage the development of character and well-being, thus potentially harnessing the full positive potentials of humanity for cultural and social progress (cf. Cloninger, 2004, 2008, 2013).

Conflict of Interest Statement

The author declares that the research was conducted in the absence of any commercial or financial relationships that could be construed as a potential conflict of interest.

References at the Frontiers site

Monday, July 28, 2014

Is Quantum Mechanics Relevant to the Philosophy of Mind (and the Other Way Around)?


Quentin Ruyant posted this article on the possible relevance of quantum mechanics to a philosophy of mind and consciousness. While he seems convinced (as are many neuroscientists and philosophers) that QM is not scientifically relevant to a philosophy of mind, he allows that there may be some metaphysical reasons to examine a possible connection. Posted at the Scientia Salon site.

Be sure to check out the comments on this post at the original site - some interesting stuff. For an excellent review of this article, check out this post at Conscious Entities.

Is quantum mechanics relevant to the philosophy of mind (and the other way around)?

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There have been speculations on a possible link between quantum mechanics and the mind almost since the early elaboration of quantum theory (including by well known physicists, such as Wigner, Bohr and Pauli). Yet despite a few proposals (e.g. from Stapp, Penrose, Eccles [1]) what we could dub “quantum mind hypothesis” are often readily dismissed as irrelevant and are seldom discussed in contemporary philosophy of mind. My aim in this article is to defend the relevance of this type of approach.

For the purpose of this discussion it is useful to distinguish two different theses regarding the putative links between quantum mechanics and the mind:
  1. The mind is relevant in interpreting quantum mechanics
  2. Quantum mechanics is relevant in the philosophy of mind
Of course the two theses are not necessarily construed as independent by the proponents of quantum-mind hypothesis. One could argue that the mind is relevant in interpreting quantum mechanics, precisely for the same reasons that quantum mechanics is relevant in the philosophy of mind. This is actually what I will argue here (or at least that it is a promising hypothesis that should be pursued). However, the two theses face different kinds of objections and need to be distinguished.

Is consciousness a biological problem?

Quite logically, I will first tackle the second one: the idea that quantum mechanics could help us explain consciousness. Such claim is sometimes dismissed on the ground that the problem of understanding consciousness is a biological problem, not a physical one. Let me clarify a bit: by “biological/physical problem” I understand: a problem which is better informed by biology/physics, not necessarily a purely scientific (as opposed to philosophical) problem. Quantum mechanics, it is said, is only relevant at very small scales of reality, while conscious organisms are biological organisms, typically found at a macroscopic level, where quantum effects manifest themselves as mere noise. Besides, it is said, randomness is not a proper substitute for free-will, so quantum mechanics wouldn’t help anyway. Therefore quantum mechanics is irrelevant to philosophy of mind.

First, let us observe that typical quantum effects are not necessarily foreign to biology, as illustrated by the burgeoning field of quantum biology. Nor are they in principle confined to the microscopic level — this is the heart of the measurement problem, as illustrated by the famous Schrödinger’s cat thought experiment. Quantum effects such as entanglement also help explain macroscopically observable properties, such as heat capacities or magnetic susceptibilities [2]. It is generally assumed that decoherence precludes the observability of quantum effects on macroscopic objects, but as Zurek et al. note, decoherence is more a heuristic tool to be applied on a case by case basis than a generic consequence of the theory [3]. Finally, quantum entanglement is hard to measure on complex systems. The idea that no quantum effect exists at all on our scale is thus neither empirically nor theoretically grounded. At most we can say that no quantum effect is detectable in common physical objects whose behavior can be accurately described using Newtonian mechanics alone, such as tables and chairs, but of course these are not the sort of conscious objects we are interested in (unless, of course, you think that biological phenomena can be explained with Newtonian mechanics alone).

However, my main contention concerns the idea that the problem of consciousness is a biological problem. Let us follow Chalmers in distinguishing the “easy problems” of consciousness from the “hard problem.” The easy problems concern everything that is scientifically tractable from a third person perspective — how do we discriminate and integrate information, etc. that is, all the cognitive aspects of consciousness. These (not so easy) problems are undeniably biological or psychological. The “hard problem” concerns the phenomenal aspect of consciousness, the subjective first-person “what it’s like” to be conscious. And this question, Chalmers argues, is not scientifically tractable: it is a metaphysical problem.

Metaphysics addresses the most fundamental aspects of reality and arguably the phenomenal aspect of consciousness is one of them. Now, if there is a branch of science which more closely resembles metaphysics in its specific interest for the fundamental aspects of reality, it is physics — not biology. Physics and metaphysics overlap in many respects (just consider the wild speculations about a mathematical universe advanced by physicists such as Tegmark [4]) and there is probably a continuum between the two. On the contrary, a contribution of biology to fundamental metaphysical issues seems to me rather implausible. I could be wrong (and Chalmers could be wrong in thinking that phenomenal aspects of consciousness are metaphysical), but I contend that the hard problem of consciousness, if it exists, is not a biological problem, but a physical one: it is just too fundamental a problem to be addressed from a biological perspective. Note that I don’t mean to deny that there are relations between phenomenal and psychological aspects, in the sense that certain cognitive states are correlated with specific phenomenal aspects, but explaining such correlations is distinct from explaining why there are phenomenal aspects to begin with.

Of course, no metaphysician denies that physics is of interest in the philosophy of mind. Kim’s causal exclusion argument involves the principle of “physical closure.” The argument precisely addresses the problem of the relations between the physical and the mental [5]. What some metaphysicians apparently deny is that quantum physics or any actual physics is of particular interest for such issues: for these authors metaphysics can still produce interesting insights about the physical “in general,” that is, whatever actual physics says. They seem to assume that the physical “in general” poses no important problem of interpretation apart from the well entrenched problems of classical metaphysics.

It seems to me that there is no such thing as “the physical in general, whatever actual physics says”: our conception of the physical changes with our physics. There is no point in reasoning on the physical without taking into account what our best current physics says about it. And our best current physics is quantum mechanics (quantum field theory to be precise). For this reason I think, following Ladyman, Ross and Spurrett [6], that metaphysicians should be informed by our best physics rather than work on a dated conception of the physical, or, as they say provocatively, on “A-level chemistry.” (Ladyman, Ross and Spurrett note that some of Kim’s central arguments rely on conceptions of the physical that are no longer accepted by physicists. The same goes, I would say, of thought experiments involving clones and mind duplication: the no-cloning theorem in quantum mechanics precludes the possibility of such perfect physical duplication [7]).

I am not saying that all metaphysicians should be trained in contemporary physics to produce valuable work (Kim’s Mind in a Physical World is very valuable and important, in my opinion), but contemporary physics is definitely a place we should look at to address fundamental issues in the philosophy of mind. My overall impression is that this is hardly the case today, although such inputs are considered in Chalmers’ The Conscious Mind [8].

Does embracing a quantum mechanical view of the physical really change the perspective for the metaphysics of mind? At the very least metaphysical interpretations of the physical inspired by contemporary physics could open new avenues to be explored, and, perhaps, help make progress on important conundrums in the field, such as the problem of mental causation. It seems to me that there are no good reasons not to follow this path.

Is the mind foreign to the measurement problem?

Which leads us directly to the second point, i.e., the first thesis sketched above: that the mind is relevant in interpreting quantum mechanics. The idea was initially proposed by some physicists as a solution to the measurement problem — the problem of reconciling the theoretical structure of quantum mechanics, which describes non-local “superpositions of states,” with actual phenomena, where no superposition is ever observed. The theoretical structure does all the predictive job, so to speak (apart from the Born rule, which maps the structure with outcome probabilities [9]) and ultimately, the fact that no superposition exists for measured quantities is only ascertained by our conscious observation. Hence the idea that it is the mind which makes the wave-function “collapse.” Of course there are other, less anthropocentric theories, such as Bohm’s, Ghirardi-Rimini-Weber [10] or the infamous many-worlds interpretation [11].

The main type of objection against interpretations involving an observer, I would say, is that they seem too reminiscent of either 19th century Idealism or early 20th century neo-Kantian and phenomenalist views (which did strongly influence said physicists). These doctrines have declined in favor of a renewal of scientific realism in the course of the 20th century.

From a realist perspective, such interpretations seem to attribute a privileged ontological status to the human brain, which is increasingly not acceptable. Was there really no definite reality before life appeared on earth? Does the moon vanishes when no one is looking? All this seems barely good enough for mystics and new age gurus (there might be more sensible anti-realist interpretations, but let’s not quibble…) However, having previously rejected the idea that phenomenal aspects of consciousness are to be addressed by biology, all of this is easily defused: a privileged ontological status of human observers only makes sense for those who pretend that biology can inform deep metaphysical questions.

Let me be more specific and draw on an example. I suggested that phenomenal aspects of consciousness could eventually be explained under a proper interpretation of physics. A possible such explanation could take the form of panpsychism: the idea that, somehow, all matter is conscious. In fact, by distinguishing phenomenal aspects from cognitive aspects of consciousness and relegating the former to physics and the latter to biology or psychology, we would have something like panphenomenalism: the idea that all matter is “phenomenal.” Anyway, in the context of either panpsychism or panphenomenalism, granting a particular role to phenomenality in physics, say, in the collapse of the wave function, does not amount to granting a privileged ontological status to the brain.

Perhaps panpsychism is implausible, but panphenomenalism fares a bit better in my opinion. Obviously, tables and chairs are not conscious. Following panphenomenalism, what they lack is not phenomenality (which would be a feature of their fundamental constitution) but cognitive abilities. Phenomenality without memory, persistence, information integration and a capacity for world and self representation is simply not awareness, or not full awareness — it is at best being transiently aware of nothing identifiable, without the very possibility of knowing that one is or was aware,nothing close to consciousness. I would readily grant this feature to electrons if it could convincingly explain some relevant metaphysical issue.

Another frequent objection against panpsychism is the so-called combination problem: if phenomenal aspects are present in the microscopic constituents of reality, how is it that we have a unified phenomenal experience? I don’t have an answer to this question, but it is not specific to panpsychism (it is a version of the binding problem also found in computational theories of mind, for example). My guess is that it has something to do with a link between quantum entanglement and cognition, perhaps in line with Tononi’s integrated information theory [12], but this is pure speculation. In any case, quantum holism, if accepted, seems to provide a good basis to answer this [13], whatever quantum-mind theory we endorse.

At any rate, although I find it attractive, my goal is not to convince you that panphenomenalism is the one true theory of mind, but to illustrate the fact that one can make sense of an involvement of the mind in the interpretation of quantum mechanics without falling back into Idealism. And, of course, there are other alternatives too, such as Eccles’ dualism for example, or Stapp’s kind-of dual aspect theory, or perhaps some versions of neutral monism.

Another common objection to considering a role of the observer in the measurement problem is that it involves non-locality, which is at odds with Lorentz invariance in special relativity. This is actually a potential problem for most collapse interpretations of quantum mechanics (but apparently, GRW theory does not face it). However, invoking phenomenal aspects in a solution to the measurement problem does not necessarily involve an objective wave-function collapse: it could involve, say, a relational or a modal interpretation of quantum mechanics [14]. Which interpretation of quantum mechanics best fits our needs to account for phenomenal aspects depending on which theory of mind we endorse is precisely the kind of question which should be addressed in the philosophy of mind.

In sum, my goal is not to defend one or the other interpretation of quantum mechanics, nor to defend one or the other theory of mind, but rather to stress the relevance and potential fruitfulness of discussions relating these two domains of inquiry. The hard problem of consciousness and the measurement problem in quantum mechanics share a strong conceptual affinity: both concern the relations between physical structure and phenomenal aspects of reality, broadly construed. Either the world viewed from the mind, or the mind viewed from the world, if you like. This conceptual affinity should not be neglected on the ground of unfounded suspicions of Idealism or anti-realism or any other similar concern. The example of panphenomenalism above shows that a common treatment to both problems might be explored without presenting insurmountable obstacles, something worth pondering.

Yet, in spite of the conceptual affinity between these two central problems of philosophy, talk of quantum mechanics in the philosophy of mind is often brushed aside. At the same time, talk of consciousness and rational agents in, say, discussions on the many-worlds (or many-minds) interpretation of quantum mechanics is ubiquitous, and difficult to avoid. Both camps act as if important issues in the other camp were already settled. This is a strange situation. Aren’t we perhaps missing something by being too compartimentalized? One of the main roles of philosophy — and metaphysics in particular — is after all to provide a unified picture of the world. Is it inconceivable that some considerations in the philosophy of mind (or other areas of philosophy) might inform our interpretations of physics as much as the converse?

Is quantum mechanics useful at all?

To conclude, let me address a final worry that I have so far left aside: that quantum mechanics is of no help in explaining the mind at all. I don’t know about the debate concerning the relationship between free-will and randomness — except that randomness in quantum mechanics is closely tied to the measurement problem, and that what we mean by “randomness” is also up to interpretation. (Shouldn’t we say “unpredictability” instead? Or shall I suggest “physical privacy”?)

Besides, I do not claim that quantum mechanics can explain consciousness. My argument is more modest: the question of phenomenal aspects of consciousness should be addressed in relation to quantum mechanics, because only our best physics can inform such metaphysical questions, and because quantum effects are not necessarily confined to the microscopic realm. Moreover, it should be addressed in relation to the measurement problem, because they share conceptual affinities, and because the “threat” of Idealism is unfounded. All I claim is that a suitable metaphysical interpretation of quantum mechanics could eventually explain the metaphysical problem of consciousness.

Having said that, some features of quantum mechanics such as non-locality/holism or the no-cloning and the free-will theorem [15], could eventually help address some questions in the philosophy of mind, such as the binding problem or the problem of causal exclusion.

In light of this, quantum mechanics certainly deserves more consideration in the philosophy of mind. In my view, claiming that quantum effects reduce to “microscopic noise” simply disregards the epistemic depth of the measurement problem, just as claiming that the problem of consciousness is essentially biological disregards its ontological depth. These two “dogmas” of philosophy of mind are mutually reinforcing and we should reject them altogether if we want to make sense of consciousness as well as of quantum mechanics.
_____
Quentin Ruyant is a PhD student in philosophy of science in Rennes, France and former engineer. He maintains a blog dedicated to the popularization of philosophy of science (in French)
[1] Quantum approaches to consciousness, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
[2] Macroscopic entanglement witnesses.
[3] Deconstructing decoherence.
[4] Our mathematical universe;  and Why physicists are saying consciousness is a state of matter, like a solid, a liquid or a gas.
[5] See “The completeness of the physical,” in Mental causation, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
[6] Every Thing Must Go: Metaphysics Naturalized.
[7] No-cloning theorem.
[8] The Conscious Mind: In Search of a Fundamental Theory.
[9] The Born rule.
[10] On collapse theories and the Ghirardini-Rimini-Weber model.
[11] See this recent essay by Sean Carroll about why the many-worlds interpretation of QM is not that crazy after all.
[12] Integrated information theory.
[13] See: Holism and nonseparability in physics, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
[14] Modal interpretations of quantum mechanics and Relational quantum mechanics, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
[15] Free will theorem.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

How to Become a Philosopher


From Bookforum's Omnivore blog, another cool collection of links related to philosophy and philosophers. One of the cool papers is by Marc Fleurbaey (Princeton) and Alex Voorhoeve (LSE): On the Social and Personal Value of Existence - here is the abstract.
If a potential person would have a good life if he were to come into existence, can we coherently regard his coming into existence as better for him than his never coming into existence? And can we regard the situation in which he never comes into existence as worse for him? In this paper, we argue that both questions should be answered affirmatively. We also explain where prominent arguments to differing conclusions go wrong. Finally, we explore the relevance of our answers to issues in population ethics.
Regardless of the kind of life a person may have, I know a LOT of people who, given the choice, would choose to never have been born.

How to become a philosopher

Jul 21 2014
9:00AM

Thursday, September 26, 2013

Continental Philosophy in the Pellucid Register

From Bookforum's Omnivore blog, another interesting collection of philosophy links, including one to the new(ish) edition of Speculations, a special issue on Speculative Realism.


Continental philosophy in the pellucid register

Sep 25 2013
3:00PM


Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Timothy Williamson Interviewed by Richard Marshall - Modality and Metaphysics (3:am Magazine)

Timothy Williamson is the author of Model Logic as Metaphysics (2013), Vagueness, The Philosophy of Philosophy, Knowledge and its Limits, and Identity and Discrimination. In this interview with 3:am Magazine's Richard Marshall, Williamson discusses a lot of topics and ideas I had to research a bit in order to grok even a wee bit

Be that as it may, this is a cool interview with an influential philosopher most of us have never read and are likely not familiar.

modality and metaphysics


Timothy Williamson interviewed by Richard Marshall.



Best known as the Ace Ventura of Vagueness, the Fu Fighter of the Philosophy of Philosophy, the Nightwing of Knowledge and its Limits and the Iceman of Identity and Discrimination, Timothy Williamson is no less the Marvel Man of Modality and Metaphysics. His first interview with 3ammagazine pioneered the End Times series. He’s invited back with a new book to join the series he inspired and broods to the depths on why naturalism is an unhelpful term, why ‘mad dog naturalist’ Alex Rosenberg is brave but wrong, why Paul Horwich’s Wittgensteinianism is also deeply mistaken, about why there’s a need to dirty one’s hands on technicalities if you want to be able to choose between competing theories, about necessitism vs contingentism, permanentism vs temporaryism, an aside about death, about Ruth Barcan Marcus’s key axiom, about his deepened respect for Rudolph Carnap,about Kripke’s fantastic success story, and Bob Stalnaker’s and Kit Fine’s contributions too, and about higher order modal logic being an alternative paradigm for core metaphysical theories. Like the Hulk, this one’s so kickin’ it needs a cage in high atmosphere. Smashed It!

3:AM:
Since your last interview here you’ve got a new book out regarding modal logic and metaphysics. But before turning to that, you’ve continued to defend a particular vision of philosophy and there have been two prominent challenges that you’ve faced down on behalf of analytic philosophy. The first of these is a Quinean philosophical naturalism and the other, much more recently, is the Wittgensteinian challenge to what Paul Horwich has called Traditional philosophy. So we can start with the first of these. In your arguments against the naturalist case are you batting for analytic metaphysics and what are the reasons for this?

Timothy Williamson: I’ve been trying to wake people up to the confusion in the current use of the word ‘naturalism’. That isn’t a matter of being anti-naturalist or naturalist but of refusing to define one’s position in such naïve terms. The word ‘naturalism’ is used to bundle together various different ideas, some good, some bad. I’m sometimes called a naturalist, sometimes an anti-naturalist, because I accept some of those ideas and reject others.

A good idea associated with the phrase ‘Quinean philosophical naturalism’ is a holistic one: although we can divide human inquiry into different disciplines (physics, biology, mathematics, philosophy, history, economics, …) for organizational purposes, they are all interconnected, and the results of any one of them are in principle relevant to the results of any other. For example, history and astronomy interact because historical documents contain reports of comets: sometimes they help astronomers establish the period of the comet, sometimes they help historians date ancient events. Philosophy is and always has been deeply engaged in that holistic interaction. It is much more similar to the rest of human inquiry than some philosophers like to think. For example, it is hopeless to pretend that the results of natural science are in principle irrelevant to philosophy on the grounds that philosophical questions are ‘purely conceptual’. In my previous book The Philosophy of Philosophy I defended such anti-exceptionalism about philosophy, and it is of course an idea that Quine defended too.

But some bad ideas are also associated with the phrase ‘Quinean philosophical naturalism’, which can be roughly summed up by the terms ‘reductionism’ and ‘scientism’. Quine privileged natural science, and in particular physics, over all other forms of inquiry, to the point of not taking very seriously any theory that couldn’t be reduced to part of natural science. The methodology of the natural sciences is obviously by far the best way we have of answering the sort of questions those sciences ask, and I’ve already said that the answers are relevant in principle to any other branch of human inquiry. Equally obviously, it does not follow that natural science is the best way of answering the questions that those other branches ask. If your question is about physics, ask a physicist; if your question is about history, ask an historian. A decent working assumption (not an exceptionless sacrosanct principle) is that the practitioners of any well-established intellectual discipline tend to use the most suitable methodology available for answering its questions. Philosophy is no exception. So another thing I did in The Philosophy of Philosophy was to explain the rationale for the standard ‘armchair’ methodology of contemporary analytic philosophy, in particular for its use of thought experiments and for the very minor role that experimentation plays.

You mentioned analytic metaphysics, although it’s only one example amongst many. Analytic metaphysicians don’t ignore natural science: for example, they treat Einsteinian special relativity as an extremely serious threat to a traditional or common sense conception of time. But it’s true that much of analytic metaphysics consists of theorizing that is only very loosely constrained by natural science. In most cases, it would be pointless to tell those analytic metaphysicians to pay more attention to natural science, or to do some experiments, because it’s utterly unclear how doing so would help them answer their questions.

The central figure in analytic metaphysics over recent decades was undoubtedly David Lewis, who was strongly influenced by Quine. He is notorious for his theory of modal realism, according to which other possible worlds are spacetime systems disjoint from ours but equally real and concrete. Lewis justifies his modal realism using a methodology drawn from Quinean philosophical naturalism. He argues in effect that modal realism yields the best systematization of various phenomena in the clear, simple terms of standard first-order logic, to which Quine assigned a privileged status, and an ontology of concrete objects. Lewis’s argument is abductive, an inference to the best explanation, which is a style of argument typical of the natural sciences. So it’s a mistake to regard analytic metaphysics and Quinean philosophical naturalism as automatically opposed, unless Quinean philosophical naturalism is internally inconsistent, because it gives rise to analytic metaphysics. Of course, Quine didn’t accept Lewis’s modal realism. Nor do I. But such theoretical disagreements are quite different from the idea that there is no room in principle for analytic metaphysics, and that we should leave metaphysics to the natural scientists. If you look at Quine’s own work, you see that he paid very little attention to post-1930 physics. Physicists are simply not trained to deal with many of the questions that metaphysicians ask, and are just as liable to embarrass themselves if they try to sort out metaphysics as metaphysicians are if they try to sort out physics, although I should emphasize that very productive dialogue is possible when both sides have a sense of their own limitations. There is a significant overlap between philosophy of physics and theoretical physics.

My own view is that the affinities between metaphysics and mathematics are just as important as those between metaphysics and physics. Mathematics is the most rigorous form of human inquiry there is, and also the one least sensitive to the results of observation and experiment. You shouldn’t just think of mathematicians as proving theorems. You must remember that their proofs depend on first principles, axioms, which have to come from somewhere. Set theorists search for new axioms to resolve problems such as Cantor’s continuum hypothesis, which are undecidable on the basis of the current axioms. Their search uses an abductive methodology that has much in common with the methodology of analytic metaphysics. They are looking for strong, simple, elegant axioms that have unifying power and are consistent with everything we already know.

3:AM: Alex Rosenberg thinks that understanding the nature of maths will rest on the success that science has had so far in making sense of everything else. He bets that an epistemology explaining how we know a priori synthetic truths will come from science not analytic philosophy. And he also points out that even if you’re right that naturalists have no handle on mathematical truths, neither do non-naturalists. How do you respond?

TW: Alex bravely defends what I think of as the worst beliefs associated with the word ‘naturalism’, the scientism and the reductionism. He claims that only the methodology of natural science produces genuine knowledge. I pointed to mathematics as a glaring counterexample. He admits that it’s a problem for his view, but has faith that somehow or other, he has no idea how, the methodology of natural science will solve the problem and show that mathematics isn’t really a counterexample after all. There is no symmetry between his view and mine with respect to mathematics. On the face of it, mathematics is a massive counterexample to his view. On the face of it, mathematics is perfectly consistent with my view. His view requires mathematics to be either reduced to natural science or ditched. He can’t ditch it, because natural science itself uses mathematics all the time, and he has no idea how to reduce it to natural science. My view involves no such dilemma. Mathematics is fine as it is, without being reduced to anything else. He can’t find the sort of handle on mathematics his view says he needs. My view says no such handle is needed.

Furthermore, it’s not even approximately true that natural science has had success in making sense of everything but mathematics, if that involves showing that other forms of genuine human knowledge resulted from the methodology of the natural sciences. We have massive knowledge of history that doesn’t come from that methodology. Of course, some naturalists in a watered-down sense would stretch their understanding of the methodology to cover past and present historical scholarship. But Alex Rosenberg doesn’t do that, he just dismisses history as a source of genuine knowledge. If he wants to enact a reductio ad absurdum of his own extremist brand of naturalism, that’s fine by me.

3:AM: Paul Horwich’s Wittgensteinian challenge basically called out Traditional Theoretical philosophy (‘T-philosophy’) as being irrationalist. You mounted a very vigorous defence. You disputed many of the claims that were supposed to damn T-philosophy and concluded that if this was Wittgenstein then Wittgenstein was pretty unimpressive and inconsistent. Can you summarise the dispute?



TW: I’ll start with the point about inconsistency. Wittgenstein’s metaphilosophy has long been accused of being self-refuting, because it condemns the very activity it’s engaged in. The problem sticks out a mile in Paul’s recent book on the subject, in part because he writes so clearly and directly. Roughly, the characteristic of T-philosophy as Paul defines it is that it gives a priori informal arguments for deeply non-obvious conclusions. The book gives a priori informal arguments for the deeply non-obvious conclusion that it is irrational to do T-philosophy, i.e. to give a priori informal arguments for deeply non-obvious conclusions, i.e. to argue in the very way he’s arguing. In that sense, the book is rather clearly self-refuting. In effect, Paul’s reply is that the conclusion that it is irrational to do T-philosophy isn’t deeply non-obvious, because his arguments render it potentially obvious, but of course the T-philosophers he’s criticizing might say the same thing.

In the long run, what matters is the quality of Horwich’s Wittgenstein’s arguments compared to the best arguments in T-philosophy. If one could argue by the highest standards of T-philosophy that T-philosophy is irrational, that would be a serious strike against T-philosophy. Fortunately, the arguments that T-philosophy is irrational don’t meet the highest standards of T-philosophy. The part of Paul’s critique most likely to worry a contemporary T-philosopher is the least Wittgensteinian bit, which is the historical charge that T-philosophy has a poor track record of solving its own problems. It would be idle to pretend that such a charge is entirely baseless, although it is somewhat exaggerated. Arguably, Plato in his Sophist solved a problem about how one can speak falsely that had plagued his predecessors. Through the development of modal logic, we know far more about the basic principles governing possibility and necessity than was known a century ago—and I’m not talking here about the purely mathematical side of modal logic, but about principles interpreted in terms of a genuinely metaphysical understanding of possibility and necessity. Philosophy’s less than shining track record is above all evidence that philosophical problems are often very, very hard. It’s not as though Horwich’s Wittgenstein or anyone else has a very promising strategy for solving them other than by doing T-philosophy, perhaps in a refined form. To his credit, Horwich’s Wittgenstein doesn’t take the implausible line of arguing that T-philosophical questions are meaningless (which would involve self-refuting T-philosophical arguments about the nature of meaning).

As for the relation between Horwich’s Wittgenstein and the historical Wittgenstein, that isn’t the issue that mainly exercises either Paul or me, although Paul claims that an examination of Wittgenstein’s texts will in fact show his interpretation to be accurate. I’m no Wittgenstein scholar, but my own guess is that the historical Wittgenstein’s metaphilosophy was rooted in his theoretical ideas about meaning in a way that Horwich denies. However, I don’t think that T-philosophy has any more to fear from the historical Wittgenstein than it has from Horwich’s version.

3:AM: One of the many things you challenge is Horwich’s attack on the use of thought experiments and idealization and imagination for epistemology. He allows model building in science but not in epistemology. Why is he wrong?

TW: I’m not sure how far Paul would go on those issues, or how far he has thought through his position on them. He himself has used a Bayesian probabilistic framework to clarify some questions in epistemology, which I doubt Wittgenstein would have been happy to do. I guess he thinks that such clarifications will never lead to a good T-philosophical epistemology. My view is that formal methods based on the probability calculus and models of epistemic logic have already cast significant light on epistemology, even though formal epistemology and general epistemology are too often pursued in mutual ignorance and suspicion. For example, it is virtually impossible in practice to think through tricky issues concerning evidence about one’s own evidence accurately without the guidance of formal models. Those models involve idealizations similar to those in science. For example, treating agents as logically perfect (as formal models typically do) is similar to treating planets as point masses. I find no good reason in Horwich’s work or Wittgenstein’s for pessimism about the value of idealized formal models in epistemology or any other branch of philosophy.

As for thought experiments and imagination, I don’t think Paul regards their use in epistemology or elsewhere in philosophy as illegitimate. He doubts that they will lead to good systematic theories. The best response for T-philosophers is just to build such theories, which is what I have tried to do.

3:AM:
Horwich’s position went a little further than most in terms of its impact on philosophy because it would recommend that we no longer fund T-philosophy. Why should we be hostile to anything along these lines? It seems odd that at a time when the humanities are under pressure from the money men running universities these days, philosophers are digging their own graves.


TW: Horwich didn’t explicitly call for T-philosophy not to be funded. I pointed out that if the picture of philosophy in his book were accurate, philosophy should be abolished. The reader encounters just two sorts of philosophy: irrational T-philosophy, and level-headed Wittgensteinian debunkers of T-philosophers. Philosophy is presented as an activity in which some people make a mess and others clear it up. Why on earth should taxpayers fund that? It looks as though we’d be better off simply abolishing the activity altogether. A more common line amongst Wittgensteinians is that all sorts of intellectual activity outside philosophy give rise to conceptual confusions that philosophers are best equipped to clear up, so our culture as a whole would be worse off if philosophy were abolished. For example, you get Wittgensteinian philosophers of mind impatiently dismissing large chunks of cognitive science which attribute thoughts to modules in the brain rather than to the whole person. But Horwich didn’t take that line in his book. He’s at a rich private university, New York University, where’s he’s more protected from financial pressures than those working in publicly funded universities. It’s other philosophers’ graves he’s digging, not his own. Once one understands how deeply integrated philosophy is with the rest of human inquiry, the foolishness of not funding it becomes evident.



3:AM: Your new book, Model Logic as Metaphysics, sets a special problem for an interview in that you started wanting to do a book about modal logic as metaphysics with little technical stuff in it but as you worked at it you concluded that only through a pretty formidable armoury of technical logic would you be able to do this. How far can we get on your approach to metaphysics without the technical stuff? And do you think metaphysics without this apparatus is seriously oversimplified, too informal and possibly redundant?

TW: In writing the book, I decided that the task for the first chapter would be to get as far as possible without technicalities. I banned all formulas from that chapter. What I did in it was to explain and develop two opposed metaphysical views, and why each of them is internally coherent and can be reconciled with the phenomena. What I couldn’t do was to explain in detail what I regard as the strongest reasons for preferring one of them over the other. Those reasons have to do with what happens when one embeds those views in modal logics appropriate to them. Under the relevant interpretation, those modal logics constitute opposed metaphysical theories. When one compares those theories by normal standards for theory choice in science—using criteria such as strength, simplicity, elegance, unifying power, and consistency with independently verified facts—one of them does significantly better than the other. One just can’t make that comparison without dirtying one’s hands on technicalities.

I don’t want to insist in advance that all metaphysical issues require such technically high-powered treatment, although my suspicion is that many of them do. There is a tendency in contemporary metaphysics to stick a label on a couple of examples and call it a theory. In such cases it’s very hard to say what the theory implies and what it doesn’t. Once you have theories set out as explicit universal generalizations with a clear content, you are already quite some way towards formal theories. It’s not obvious just how far metaphysics lends itself to such theory-building. But where we can get clear, powerful, simple metaphysical theories that can be reconciled with the phenomena, they will tend to beat metaphysical theories that lack those virtues. Leibniz would have found such a methodology quite congenial.

3:AM: Let’s see how far we can get with just words! Your new book starts with the statements: ‘Things could have been otherwise. It is contingent how they are. Although the coin comes up heads, it could have come up tails.’ But then you ask the question ‘Is it also contingent what things there are?’ You come up with the rather surprising answer ‘No’. Are you saying that it is necessary what there is? And does this position have a history that goes back before Frank Ramsey and his reading of Wittgenstein’s Tractatus?

TW: And before the Tractatus itself. Anyway, I am indeed saying that it is necessary what there is. Necessarily everything is necessarily something. There could not have been more or fewer things than there actually are, and which particular things there are could not have been different. What is contingent is only what properties those things have, and what relations they have to each other. I call that view necessitism. Its denial is contingentism.

Who knows how far back necessitism goes? Maybe Parmenides was some sort of necessitist. In modal logic, necessitism corresponds to something known as the Barcan formula and its converse, a form of which can already be found in the work of the great Persian philosopher Avicenna. Benjamin Schnieder has provided strong evidence that the way in which I argue necessitists should understand possible objects was anticipated by Bolzano.

3:AM: Does this position deny that it’s contingent what kinds of things are instantiated? Couldn’t Wittgenstein have had a daughter?

TW: Wittgenstein could indeed have had a daughter. But no past, present, or future person could have been a daughter of Wittgenstein, at least not in the biological sense (obviously he could have adopted many actual women). Nor could any actual sum of atoms have been identical with a daughter of Wittgenstein, it could only have constituted such a daughter, and constitution isn’t identity. Rather, for a necessitist, something that could have been a daughter of Wittgenstein is a merely possible person, and a merely possible concrete object. It is neither concrete, a person, nor a daughter of Wittgenstein, but it could have been all three. Similarly, there could have been no tigers, if evolution had taken a different turn. In those counterfactual circumstances, all the actual tigers would have been merely possible tigers—non-concrete non-tigers that could have been concrete tigers. So it is contingent what kinds of thing are instantiated.

3:AM: The contrast between necessitism and contingentism is what you explain in the book and there are subtleties in both positions that if we overlook we’ll misunderstand your claim supporting necessitism. The last two responses show some of the subtleties. Can you summarise what is at stake in this dispute and who ought to take note?

TW: What’s at stake is the appropriate framework for thinking about being and non-being, and about what could or could not have been otherwise. That’s pretty fundamental to metaphysics. I argue in the book that to understand the implications of necessitism and contingentism properly, we also have to consider how they combine with theories about whether it’s contingent what properties and relations there are, including properties and relations of properties and relations. Once we start formulating rigorous, systematic theories of these matters at an appropriate level of generality, the language we need is that of what’s called higher-order modal logic. That’s also the language we can use to formulate a vast range of claims in metaphysics, so by studying its logic we gain much greater knowledge of the logical relations and status of all sorts of metaphysical ideas, not just those directly connected to the dispute between necessitism and contingentism.

I’ll mention three examples of less obvious connections.
First: One of the early pioneers of higher-order modal logic was Richard Montague, who used it as a framework for the formal semantics of natural languages. It lends itself to a rigorous semantic analysis that provides appropriate semantic values for expressions of an extremely wide range of grammatical categories, and therefore to generalizations over those semantic values. Montague’s ideas continue to be influential in semantics as a branch of linguistics. Thus there is a natural link between higher-order modal logic and the semantic study of natural languages.

Second: A crucial problem in the philosophy of mathematics is how to deal with apparently unrestricted generality. In standard set theory, there is no set of all sets, because the assumption that there is one generates a contradiction, via Russell’s paradox of the set of all sets that are not members of themselves. So when we say ‘all sets’, we are generalizing in a way that apparently can’t be captured within set theory itself: there is no set whose members are what we are generalizing over. Or can we somehow always broaden our horizon to include a set of all those sets that were within the previous, narrower horizon? Now the language of pure mathematics itself isn’t essentially modal; standard mathematical theorems and proofs can all be formulated without terms for possibility or necessity. Nevertheless, an increasing number of philosophers of mathematics are using modal language to formulate theories about generality, sets, and pluralities. For example, they want to try out the theories on which any things could form a set, even if they don’t form a set. A higher-order modal language is just what they need to formulate such theories. So higher-order modal logic is relevant to fundamental questions about the interpretation of mathematics.

Third: The dispute between necessitism and contingentism is relevant to some problems in moral philosophy and value theory. For example, some choices may involve us in comparing the value of the actual state of affairs with the value of a counterfactual state of affairs in which there would be people who are never actually conceived (think of a couple deciding whether to have another child). For a contingentist those comparisons are logically very tricky, because they involve one situation in which an individual has a given level of wellbeing with another situation from which that individual is totally absent, and so presumably there is no corresponding level of wellbeing. Necessitism avoids those logical problems.
3:AM: So what are the reasons for defending necessitism? Can they be stated or at least gestured at without the technical machinery? And can we avoid muddled debates and distinctions elsewhere if we get this one straightened out and is cleaning out muddle part of the aim of your book?

TW: Necessitism has a head-start over contingentism because it is a much simpler, more unified, stronger theory. That advantage increases once one considers their links to higher-order necessitism (roughly, necessitism about properties and relations) and higher-order contingentism respectively. The most unified, principled positions look like necessitism plus higher-order necessitism and contingentism plus higher-order contingentism. By contrast, necessitism plus higher-order contingentism and contingentism plus higher-order necessitism look like messy, ad hoc hybrids. For example, one would expect that it is contingent that there is such a thing as me if and only if it is contingent that there is such a property as being identical with me (or such a property as being distinct from me). Some of the most technical parts of the book go into exhibiting the disadvantages of higher-order contingentism. One of the main tasks of higher-order logic is to serve as an appropriate background logic for mathematical theories of arithmetic and set theory. In order to capture the intended generality of the principle of mathematical induction and of some axioms of set theory one needs to formulate them as axioms in second-order logic rather than as axiom schemas in first-order logic. One can show that higher-order contingentist modal logic, unlike higher-order necessitist modal logic, is inadequate for the intended applications of the modal analogues of such principles. So that’s another advantage of necessitism plus higher-order necessitism over contingentism plus higher-order contingentism. Another advantage of necessitism is that, in a sense that can with hard work be made precise, it draws useful distinctions that contingentism apparently can’t capture. For example, the necessitist can ask how many possible stars there are, i.e. how many things that could be stars. That’s different from asking how many stars there could be. For example, even if it’s necessary that there are only finitely many stars, there may still be infinitely many possible stars (from a necessitist perspective) because different things may be stars in different possible situations even if there’s no one possible situation in which all of them are stars. It turns out that in first-order modal logic (where one can generalize over individual things but not over their properties and relations) the contingentist can in a precise sense simulate all the necessitist’s distinctions, and vice versa, so in that respect neither side has an advantage over the other. But in higher-order modal logic, while the necessitist can still simulate all the contingentist’s distinctions, the contingentist can’t simulate all the necessitist’s distinctions (without cheating). Moreover, for specific reasons it is quite implausible for the contingentist to dismiss those necessitist distinctions as spurious. So that’s another strike in favour of necessitism. I hope this vague sketch of the arguments gives some idea of both the nature of the arguments and why they can only be properly formulated and assessed in a rigorous, explicit formal framework.

The book does sort out some muddles in passing, for example about the ambiguity in phrases like ‘a possible person’ (between ‘something that could be a person’ and ‘a person that could exist’). It also aims to replace some confused disputes with clearer ones. An example is the supposed dispute between ‘actualism’ and ‘possibilism’. The latter dispute is desperately unclear, because the actualist principle is supposed to be something like ‘Everything is actual’, which turns out to be utterly trivial in modal logic. People sometimes treat ‘actualism’ as just code for the denial of Lewis’s modal realism, but if one wants to debate Lewis’s views one should do so directly. His modal realism is marginal to the issues that should be central if one takes modal logic more seriously than he took it. It’s time to reorient modal metaphysics towards the latter issues. The central aim of my book is not sorting out muddles but getting on with the constructive theorizing. Of course, you’d better not be too muddled when you do the theorizing, otherwise you’ll mess it up.

3:AM: What are the controversial by-products of necessitism and why don’t you find them so problematic as to indicate that there’s a flaw somewhere?

TW: When contingentists try to articulate what they regard as the most problematic consequences of necessitism, they usually start using the word ‘exist’. They formulate necessitism as the claim that necessarily everything has necessary existence, and then argue that if my actual parents had never met I would not have existed. Therefore, since it could have happened that my actual parents never met, it could have happened that I did not exist, so my existence is contingent. When I formulate necessitism I don’t use the word ‘exist’, because I regard it as too slippery. I formulate necessitism as the principle that necessarily everything is necessarily something, where ‘everything’ and ‘something’ are totally unrestricted. If using ‘exist’ were just a harmless reformulation, then the contingentist objection should sound just as good when posed in my original terms. The crucial premise would then be that if my actual parents had never met I would not have been anything. Put that way, it starts to become clear that the premise is a highly theoretical one, over which common sense has no special authority. Thus contingentists’ clinging to the word ‘exist’ strongly suggests that they are building some extra restriction into it. Let’s abstractly say that they are using it to mean ‘be something substantial’. Then their reformulation of necessitism in terms of ‘exist’ becomes the principle that necessarily everything is necessarily something substantial, which in no way follows from necessitism as formulated properly. Thus contingentists’ biggest grouse against necessitism depends on misrepresenting its meaning.



Contingentists have other complaints too. For example, necessitism forces some essentialist claims to be qualified. I’m not essentially a human, for if I hadn’t been concrete I wouldn’t have been a human. I’m just essentially a human-if-concrete. Necessitism also involves a massive multiplication of contingently nonconcrete entities, and raises issues about how they are individuated. While such consequences involve some genuine theoretical costs, they are massively outweighed by its theoretical benefits. Once we are alert to fancy footwork with the word ‘exist’, we have no good reason to regard necessitism as inconsistent with anything we already know.

3:AM: You reorientate metaphysics of quantified modal logic around this necessitism-contingentism debate and the metaphysics of quantified temporal logic around another debate, one between permanentism and temporaryism. You’ve told us about the main features of the former; can you now summarise what this second dispute is about, what’s at stake and which side we should be on?

TW: Permanentism stands to time as necessitism stands to possibility. Just as necessitism says that necessarily everything is necessarily something, so permanentism says that always everything is always something. Thus necessitism is the view that ontology is necessary and permanentism is the view that ontology is permanent. Just as contingentism is the denial of necessitism, so temporaryism is the denial of permanentism. Just as necessitism can be misrepresented as the view that necessarily everything has necessary existence, in conflict with our contingency, so permanentism can be misrepresented as the view that always everything has permanent existence, in conflict with our mortality (in both cases, once something substantial has been read into ‘exist’). From the point of view of technical logic, the arguments for permanentism parallel the arguments for necessitism more or less exactly. The biggest difference between the two disputes is that in the case of time arguments from physics—specifically, from special relativity—may undermine temporaryism, by forcing unrestricted generalizations to range over the whole of spacetime (though I think the jury’s still out on that). In the case of possibility, there is no correspondingly serious threat to contingentism from natural science (I don’t count modal realism). Thus the case for permanentism is even stronger than the case for necessitism. In the book I concentrate mainly on the modal issues, with occasional looks at the temporal ones for purposes of comparison.

There’s a brief section on the significance of death. Permanentism itself is no consolation for mortality. Although it entails that after death you remain something, it holds out no better prospect than becoming a former living being: a painless state, but no fun at all. Indeed, far from making death less bad, permanentism excludes one way of trying to remove its sting: the argument that being dead is no misfortune because nothing has the property of being dead. That argument depends on the temporaryist assumption that the dead are literally nothing (an assumption that also makes our ability to pick out and refer to particular dead people quite problematic). Permanentists may find some other way of consoling themselves for their mortality, but not that way.

3:AM: What do Ruth Barcan Marcus and Saul Kripke contribute to your approach? Are they—and Stalnaker too—the go-to guys in the formal semantics for modal languages that pick up the tradition of Carnap that you argue contrasts with alternative Quine/Lewis approaches to possible worlds?

TW: It’s not as simple as a Carnapian tradition versus a Quine/Lewis tradition. For example, Lewis published work in a tradition of possible worlds semantics that goes back to Carnap, and was influenced by him in other ways too. Kripke and Stalnaker have a metaphysical conception of necessity quite alien to Carnap. But Quine and Lewis do share a fundamentally non-modal way of thinking about modality, which differentiates them from the others you mention.

Ruth Barcan Marcus was the first to publish (in 1946) a developed technical treatment of quantified modal logic within the framework of modern logic—of course the study of modal syllogisms goes back to Aristotle and was refined in the middle ages, but modern logic set new standards of rigour. In her work the Barcan formula emerges as a key axiom governing the interaction of modality and generality. Roughly, it says that if there could be something that meets a given condition then there is something that could meet that condition. For example, if there could be something that is a daughter of Wittgenstein, then there is something that could be a daughter of Wittgenstein. At first neither Barcan Marcus nor anyone else appreciated the metaphysical interest of the formula, in part because they were understanding possibility in a logical rather than metaphysical sense. Later, when Arthur Prior was working on quantified temporal logic, he saw the permanentism built into the Barcan formula and its converse in the temporal case, because there the intended readings of the modal operators were always metaphysical—in terms of past and future—rather than austerely logical. Once the metaphysical interest had been understood in the temporal case, that provided a template for understanding it in the modal case too, although that also required the development of a metaphysical conception of possibility and necessity. In her later work, Barcan Marcus makes some intriguing comments in that direction, but doesn’t develop them very far. Her technical work on quantified modal logic is proof-theoretic: she’s concerned to show what can (or occasionally can’t) be proved in a given axiomatic system. She doesn’t provide a semantics.

For the semantics of modal logic, at the time one had to go to Carnap, and in particular to his book Meaning and Necessity - A Study in Semantics and Modal Logic, which appeared in 1947.



Writing my book deepened my respect for Carnap. He’s easy to underestimate, because he writes in such an understated, unemphatic, colourless style, in which no hint of a literary flourish is allowed, as if his main purpose were to convince the reader that nothing of much interest is going on. I guess he regarded such a boring style as scientific. Nevertheless, he is in fact doing something very exciting, presenting a deeply considered formal semantics for a quantified modal language, way ahead of its time in its systematicity and rigour. He introduces an apparatus of possible worlds and individual concepts, inspired by Leibniz. Carnap points out that his semantics validates both the Barcan formula and its converse. Quine and his associates made some technical criticisms of Carnap’s approach, but they just don’t work. From a modern perspective, however, Carnap’s approach has turned out not to be terribly fruitful. His purely logical understanding of modal operators goes against the grain from a technical point of view, and his treatment of generalizations as ranging over concepts of individuals rather than individuals themselves left out many of the most interesting modal generalizations. In a sense, therefore, his work on the semantics of modal logic was something of a dead end, but it was a dead end that needed to be explored, given the state of knowledge at the time, and Meaning and Necessity set standards for later work on the semantics of modal logic to live up to.

The modern approach to modal logic first appears in a really clear form in the works of Saul Kripke around 1960. The way he presented matters then is much closer to the way they are presented now, fifty years later, than it is to the way Barcan Marcus or Carnap presented them fifteen years earlier. One thing Kripke did was to distinguish clearly between semantic models and the worlds within a given model, which formally speaking can be the members of any arbitrarily chosen set. That generality turned out to be exactly what was needed for the fruitful development of the model theory of modal logic as a technical discipline, basically a branch of mathematical logic. It has been a fantastic success story, with all sorts of applications outside philosophy as well as within, for example to linguistics and computer science. In my view, the achievements of the possible worlds approach in semantic model theory are vastly more impressive than its achievements in metaphysics. That raises an obvious question: what is the philosophical significance of possible worlds model theory? The question is surprisingly neglected, because philosophical discussion of possible worlds tends to take place at a rather ill-defined level, less abstract than model theory but more abstract than metaphysics. It’s another case in which skating over technicalities has in practice led to confusion rather than lucidity. In the book, I develop some precise connections between the model theory and the metaphysics. Kripke himself has been very sober about the philosophical significance of possible worlds, warning philosophers not to overestimate it. As well as finding the most fruitful approach to the model theory of modal logic, Kripke made another crucial contribution by distinguishing the sort of necessity that really matters for metaphysics from ideas like analyticity, logical truth, and a priori knowability. It is metaphysically necessary that Plato wasn’t Aristotle, because it could not have been otherwise, even though it isn’t analytic, logically true, or knowable a priori. Kripke’s model theory made room for the distinction. Because he separated generalizing over possible worlds in a model from generalizing over models themselves, unlike Carnap, he allowed models in which there are no worlds corresponding to logically consistent but metaphysically impossible scenarios such as ‘Plato = Aristotle’, and so didn’t have to model necessity as purely logical as Carnap had done.

As for Bob Stalnaker, two of his contributions are particularly relevant here. One is that he gave the classic statement of a metaphysical view of possible worlds that avoids Lewis’s modal realism and treats them as abstract rather than concrete. Another is that he recently published a considered defence of the combination of contingentism with higher-order contingentism that I mentioned earlier.

Someone else I should mention here is Kit Fine, who has done an enormous amount to work out the technical and philosophical underpinnings of different views of the metaphysics of modality. Once you start looking into the history, you realize just how many people have made significant contributions to the development of the subject. Obviously some contribute more than others, but it really is a collective enterprise.

3:AM: As an overview to your project, would it be fair to say that why you prefer the Carnapian approach is that it avoids straying like Lewis did into the territory of cosmology and the physicists? As such, is this your counterblast to the Quinean naturalist camp in philosophy, and a new line being drawn in the sand defending analytic metaphysics and showing why T-philosophy can answer those who would bury it?

TW: I start the preface to Modal Logic as Metaphysics by saying that the title will sound to some people like Good as Evil. Carnap would be a prime example. He was a pioneer of the semantics of modal logic, as I explained before, who wanted to keep metaphysics out of serious inquiry. I’m concerned with interpreting systems of modal logic as metaphysical theories. So I can hardly call my approach Carnapian. My objection to Lewis’s modal realism is not that it has connections with cosmology and physics, but that it is inconsistent with standard cosmological and physical theories, because it entails that there are parts of physical reality in which their principles fail. There’s nothing anti-naturalistic about that criticism of Lewis. Although Quine may have thought his aversion to modal thinking was naturalistic, it has no clear basis in scientific practice. Scientists who use the modal term ‘soluble’ don’t seem thereby to betray their calling. Indeed, one might think that part of the point of science is to gain knowledge of what is or isn’t physically possible for various things. Quine preferred first-order non-modal logic for logical reasons, not naturalistic ones. Lewis’s modal realism involved a reduction of modal logic to first-order non-modal logic.

But you’re right, I am proposing suitably interpreted systems of higher-order modal logic as an alternative paradigm for core metaphysical theories, with implications for the methodology of metaphysics. The appropriate methodology for choosing between such theories combines abduction and deduction, as with fundamental theories in mathematics, in a way I’ve already explained. If naturalists say that we should decide between modal logics on experimental grounds, I ask them what experiments would be relevant. I guess they could do surveys, asking people which principles of higher-order modal logic they accept. That would be as sensible as settling the axioms of set theory by opinion poll. I’m not drawing a line in the sand, though. I’m just pointing to an on-going enterprise in logic qua metaphysics and asking self-described naturalists how they would do better.

3:AM: And finally, for the metaphysically inclined readers here at 3:AM, are there five books you could recommend (other than your own) to help us go deeper into this philosophical territory?

TW: I’ll simply list the most relevant book by each of the five philosophers who play the largest roles in my story. They are: Rudolf Carnap, Meaning and Necessity: A Study in Semantics and Modal Logic; Saul Kripke, Naming and Necessity; Ruth Barcan Marcus, Modalities: Philosophical Essays; Kit Fine, Modality and Tense: Philosophical Papers; Robert Stalnaker, Mere Possibilities: Metaphysical Foundations of Modal Semantics.



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Richard Marshall is still biding his time.