I have just heard a heart-warming story on the radio (Deutsche Welle). It concerned a recent demonstration in Beirut, against the religion-based system of government in that country. For all sorts of position, from the President downwards, you have to be of the right religion. The demonstrators, mostly younger people, wore tee-shirts with the message “What’s your religion? That’s not important”. As the report pointed out, top religious figures will resist change because it will erode their power. But if enough people turn against the system, it may yet crumble. One may hope for a wider effect, with religious figures in general being recognised as having no special expertise, and no entitlement to any more respect or influence than other citizens.
Back in Britain, there has been much fuss over a joke memo about the Pope’s visit that was prepared in the Foreign Office. It included entertaining suggestions like a visit to an abortion clinic, a blessing of a same-sex marriage and the launch of Benedict-branded condoms. But what should the Vatican have expected? Here’s a guy whose institution makes him out to be really important, so that we should pay attention to his views. Well then, he can expect to get the attention of those who think he is wrong, as well as those who think he is right. If it were generally accepted that he was just a regular guy who had some opinions, which counted for no more or less than anyone else’s opinions, then he wouldn’t be the butt of jokes like this one.
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
Monday, 22 February 2010
Radical interpretation
By happy coincidence, when taking a break from preparing a lecture on Donald Davidson, I came across this experiment in radical interpretation:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/8527009.stm
The principle of charity, of course. Elephants would not be considered to have good memories if they did not mostly remember truths. The principle of humanity, maybe. Elephants fit well enough into our lives in some parts of the world that they must be a little bit like us. And let us not forget Schopenhauer on the sagacity of the elephant (Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, erster Band, Kapitel 6).
If an elephant could talk, ...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/8527009.stm
The principle of charity, of course. Elephants would not be considered to have good memories if they did not mostly remember truths. The principle of humanity, maybe. Elephants fit well enough into our lives in some parts of the world that they must be a little bit like us. And let us not forget Schopenhauer on the sagacity of the elephant (Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, erster Band, Kapitel 6).
If an elephant could talk, ...
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
Eight records or three?
Here is a little puzzle, inspired by the radio programme Desert Island Discs, on which people are required to choose eight pieces of music to take to a desert island. (There is no actual island: the programme was created long before reality television came to pass.)
Most of us would find it impossible to choose eight pieces of music directly. If one aims for eight, one ends up with a list of 20. The obvious thing to do would be to aim for three and end up with eight. But would one then have the top eight, as distinct from candidates to be in the top three?
I suspect that one would not have the top eight, because there would be no such thing as the top eight (for a given person, at a given time). “One of the top eight” would be a term with a perfectly clear intension, but no extension. And “candidate to be in the top three” would be the best approximation to “one of the top eight” which did have an extension.
The same type of argument could be conducted even if the point was not to pick eight favourite pieces of music, but to pick pieces of music to reflect eight important things in one’s life (such as one’s job or members of one’s family). A scale of importance of things in one’s life would replace a scale of liking for pieces of music, and there would be the same kind of competition for the eight places, and the same temptation to aim to select the top three in order to end up with eight.
Likewise, the argument would run if the task were to measure objective importance (in one’s own subjective view), rather than personal preference. One might for example be asked to identify the eight most important philosophers, or inventions. Aiming for three would be a sensible way to approach the task.
In similar vein, I am happy say things like “Descartes would have to feature on any defensible list of the ten most important western philosophers of all time”, but I would never try to list the ten most important western philosophers. It would not, however, be sensible for any one person to say, of more than four or five candidates, that they would have to feature on any defensible list of the top ten. “One of the ten most important” has no extension, but we can still identify some who would have to be within its extension if it had one, at least under the condition that the list would have to be defensible (before some reasonable judges – another source of vagueness).
There is another type of failure to have an extension, on which Simon Blackburn has remarked. It is rather different, because the problem is the existence of irresoluble disagreements between people. An example of a term without an extension that Blackburn has given (when giving his Presidential Address to the Aristotelian Society in October 2009) is “pig-headed”. If X claims, but Y denies, that Z is pig-headed, it is not possible for an arbiter to check whether or not Z is in the extension of the term “pig-headed” and to determine whether X or Y is correct. This is an attractive line of thought, and I would be very tempted to apply it to terms like “beautiful” and even “is a work of art” (in the sense that does not imply special praise). But I think that there are two types of limit to how far one could take this. First, although there may be no way of deciding borderline cases, there must be widespread agreement on a good number of cases. Some people would have to be regarded by most people who knew them as pig-headed, and some people would have to be regarded by most people who knew them as not pig-headed. Without that level of agreement, the term would not have an agreed intension. Second, if X and Y debated whether or not Z was pig-headed, one would expect them to make their cases by reference to a largely common range of factors, and by reference to examples of Z’s conduct which they would both approach with reference to those factors. Thus, while “pig-headed” might not have an extension, “appropriate way to test for pig-headedness” might well have an extension. That extension would do much to support agreement on the intension of “pig-headed”.
Most of us would find it impossible to choose eight pieces of music directly. If one aims for eight, one ends up with a list of 20. The obvious thing to do would be to aim for three and end up with eight. But would one then have the top eight, as distinct from candidates to be in the top three?
I suspect that one would not have the top eight, because there would be no such thing as the top eight (for a given person, at a given time). “One of the top eight” would be a term with a perfectly clear intension, but no extension. And “candidate to be in the top three” would be the best approximation to “one of the top eight” which did have an extension.
The same type of argument could be conducted even if the point was not to pick eight favourite pieces of music, but to pick pieces of music to reflect eight important things in one’s life (such as one’s job or members of one’s family). A scale of importance of things in one’s life would replace a scale of liking for pieces of music, and there would be the same kind of competition for the eight places, and the same temptation to aim to select the top three in order to end up with eight.
Likewise, the argument would run if the task were to measure objective importance (in one’s own subjective view), rather than personal preference. One might for example be asked to identify the eight most important philosophers, or inventions. Aiming for three would be a sensible way to approach the task.
In similar vein, I am happy say things like “Descartes would have to feature on any defensible list of the ten most important western philosophers of all time”, but I would never try to list the ten most important western philosophers. It would not, however, be sensible for any one person to say, of more than four or five candidates, that they would have to feature on any defensible list of the top ten. “One of the ten most important” has no extension, but we can still identify some who would have to be within its extension if it had one, at least under the condition that the list would have to be defensible (before some reasonable judges – another source of vagueness).
There is another type of failure to have an extension, on which Simon Blackburn has remarked. It is rather different, because the problem is the existence of irresoluble disagreements between people. An example of a term without an extension that Blackburn has given (when giving his Presidential Address to the Aristotelian Society in October 2009) is “pig-headed”. If X claims, but Y denies, that Z is pig-headed, it is not possible for an arbiter to check whether or not Z is in the extension of the term “pig-headed” and to determine whether X or Y is correct. This is an attractive line of thought, and I would be very tempted to apply it to terms like “beautiful” and even “is a work of art” (in the sense that does not imply special praise). But I think that there are two types of limit to how far one could take this. First, although there may be no way of deciding borderline cases, there must be widespread agreement on a good number of cases. Some people would have to be regarded by most people who knew them as pig-headed, and some people would have to be regarded by most people who knew them as not pig-headed. Without that level of agreement, the term would not have an agreed intension. Second, if X and Y debated whether or not Z was pig-headed, one would expect them to make their cases by reference to a largely common range of factors, and by reference to examples of Z’s conduct which they would both approach with reference to those factors. Thus, while “pig-headed” might not have an extension, “appropriate way to test for pig-headedness” might well have an extension. That extension would do much to support agreement on the intension of “pig-headed”.
Monday, 14 December 2009
Libel reform
Just for once, I shall use this blog to promote a specific campaign. It is the campaign to reform Britain’s oppressive libel laws, which are used by the rich, the famous and some business interests to stifle free expression and debate. There is more information, and a petition to sign, here:
http://libelreform.org/
One might think that the Internet meant that such laws no longer worked. That is partly true. Information can appear on sites hosted anywhere in the world, and can be accessed anywhere which does not suffer under a regime that has built a firewall to restrict access. But if, for example, a specialist in a particular scientific field wants to contribute to a debate under his or her own name, so that the contribution is recognised as made by someone with special expertise, anonymous postings are no good. And do we want the UK to be known as a place where debate is limited by fear of legal action, often action on the flimsiest grounds? Anything that might lead anyone to lower their estimation of the claimant now seems to be a good enough ground.
There is another issue, that of the pre-publication injunction, which has now developed into the super-injunction which forbids reference to the fact that it has been made. Recent examples have concerned Trafigura and Tiger Woods. Fortunately, both promptly surfaced on Wikileaks, no doubt to the embarrassment of both the claimants and their lawyers. What do the judges think they are doing, when they are party to secretive “justice” with not the slightest justification for secrecy, either on the basis of national security or on the basis of the protection of children? There are no other respectable grounds. A regime in which you are not only required to obey the authorities, but are also required not to tell anyone about the orders that you are required to obey, is not a pleasant one.
http://libelreform.org/
One might think that the Internet meant that such laws no longer worked. That is partly true. Information can appear on sites hosted anywhere in the world, and can be accessed anywhere which does not suffer under a regime that has built a firewall to restrict access. But if, for example, a specialist in a particular scientific field wants to contribute to a debate under his or her own name, so that the contribution is recognised as made by someone with special expertise, anonymous postings are no good. And do we want the UK to be known as a place where debate is limited by fear of legal action, often action on the flimsiest grounds? Anything that might lead anyone to lower their estimation of the claimant now seems to be a good enough ground.
There is another issue, that of the pre-publication injunction, which has now developed into the super-injunction which forbids reference to the fact that it has been made. Recent examples have concerned Trafigura and Tiger Woods. Fortunately, both promptly surfaced on Wikileaks, no doubt to the embarrassment of both the claimants and their lawyers. What do the judges think they are doing, when they are party to secretive “justice” with not the slightest justification for secrecy, either on the basis of national security or on the basis of the protection of children? There are no other respectable grounds. A regime in which you are not only required to obey the authorities, but are also required not to tell anyone about the orders that you are required to obey, is not a pleasant one.
Saturday, 5 December 2009
Climate change and the publication of data
The University of East Anglia’s Climate Research Unit has been in the news recently. Data that had not previously been made available ended up on Wikileaks, along with some e-mails that are easy to interpret as evidence of some kind of cover-up, although that interpretation might well be mistaken.
I congratulate Wikileaks and whoever supplied the information. Wikileaks is one of the guardians of our liberty. The site has scored many other victories over those who would hide information.
I make no comment on whether this episode should change our views on climate change or on human beings’ role in it. But there is, as other commentators have noticed, an important point here about openness. If all data and all algorithms had been published, in full, as the research went along, there would not have been this embarrassing row. And we could have had more confidence in whatever conclusions were reached, because we would have known that the sceptics would have had every opportunity to make their case. There would have been other, smaller, rows as we went along, with specific results being challenged. But that would not have been a bad thing. If challenges are justified, then they should be taken seriously at the earliest opportunity. If they are not justified, then the weight of commentators will be enough to squash them.
Some people have, before this episode, spoken of researchers’ intellectual property in the data that they have collected, or in their algorithms. Excuse me? If the planet really is at stake, then it is simply immoral to put your intellectual property rights, or your chance to get to a significant result before a competing researcher, above the effective conduct of research.
How far should we take this call for openness? It strikes me that there are three main grounds for insisting that research data, methods and results be made public immediately.
The first ground is that something very serious is at stake. We increase our chances of getting the right answers if everyone can comment on data and results. And if a public response may be required, as with global warming, only complete openness is likely to build public confidence. Politicians are now going round saying that we should not be put off taking global warming seriously by the East Anglia affair. But public confidence has already been lost. It cannot be re-built merely by the pleas of politicians.
The second ground is that we will have to bear the consequences. This relates to research that is used to formulate legislation or government policy. New policies are often the subject of public consultation. But there are also the private data that are collected and that are used in the taking of policy decisions. Except where national security is at stake, the data should all be published, well before the decision is taken. The data may not give one as much confidence in a policy as the politicians who promote that policy suggest we should have. That strikes me as all the more reason to publish the data, along with full details as to how they have been used. It would do politicians good to have to admit that they take many decisions on balances of probabilities, sometimes quite fine balances. That could even help the reputation of politicians. We could better understand that it is inevitable that some policies will go wrong. Alternatively, we could argue that when things are finely balanced, the state should stay out of the matter and not have a policy at all.
The third ground is that the taxpayer has funded the research. I am not sure that this would justify a requirement to publish as one went along. But it could very well justify a requirement to publish, and to give a general and royalty-free permission to use the research and its results, within a short time after the end of each piece of work, or every three years or so if the project was a long-term one. In some fields, there is a counter-argument that the taxpayer can get his money back by having the results patented and licensed. That argument is to be taken seriously, at least if one believes that having a system of patents is a good idea. But in other fields that argument clearly does not apply, and free, open publication is likely to be the best way to promote the further development of our knowledge.
I congratulate Wikileaks and whoever supplied the information. Wikileaks is one of the guardians of our liberty. The site has scored many other victories over those who would hide information.
I make no comment on whether this episode should change our views on climate change or on human beings’ role in it. But there is, as other commentators have noticed, an important point here about openness. If all data and all algorithms had been published, in full, as the research went along, there would not have been this embarrassing row. And we could have had more confidence in whatever conclusions were reached, because we would have known that the sceptics would have had every opportunity to make their case. There would have been other, smaller, rows as we went along, with specific results being challenged. But that would not have been a bad thing. If challenges are justified, then they should be taken seriously at the earliest opportunity. If they are not justified, then the weight of commentators will be enough to squash them.
Some people have, before this episode, spoken of researchers’ intellectual property in the data that they have collected, or in their algorithms. Excuse me? If the planet really is at stake, then it is simply immoral to put your intellectual property rights, or your chance to get to a significant result before a competing researcher, above the effective conduct of research.
How far should we take this call for openness? It strikes me that there are three main grounds for insisting that research data, methods and results be made public immediately.
The first ground is that something very serious is at stake. We increase our chances of getting the right answers if everyone can comment on data and results. And if a public response may be required, as with global warming, only complete openness is likely to build public confidence. Politicians are now going round saying that we should not be put off taking global warming seriously by the East Anglia affair. But public confidence has already been lost. It cannot be re-built merely by the pleas of politicians.
The second ground is that we will have to bear the consequences. This relates to research that is used to formulate legislation or government policy. New policies are often the subject of public consultation. But there are also the private data that are collected and that are used in the taking of policy decisions. Except where national security is at stake, the data should all be published, well before the decision is taken. The data may not give one as much confidence in a policy as the politicians who promote that policy suggest we should have. That strikes me as all the more reason to publish the data, along with full details as to how they have been used. It would do politicians good to have to admit that they take many decisions on balances of probabilities, sometimes quite fine balances. That could even help the reputation of politicians. We could better understand that it is inevitable that some policies will go wrong. Alternatively, we could argue that when things are finely balanced, the state should stay out of the matter and not have a policy at all.
The third ground is that the taxpayer has funded the research. I am not sure that this would justify a requirement to publish as one went along. But it could very well justify a requirement to publish, and to give a general and royalty-free permission to use the research and its results, within a short time after the end of each piece of work, or every three years or so if the project was a long-term one. In some fields, there is a counter-argument that the taxpayer can get his money back by having the results patented and licensed. That argument is to be taken seriously, at least if one believes that having a system of patents is a good idea. But in other fields that argument clearly does not apply, and free, open publication is likely to be the best way to promote the further development of our knowledge.
Thursday, 5 November 2009
Films in reverse
When I wrote my last post, I did not have the foresight to know that I would be studying the film Memento, in order to teach a class on film and philosophy on Saturday. There are two interwoven series of scenes, the black and white ones which run forward in time from the beginning of the story to the middle, and the colour ones which run backward in time from the end to the middle. The central character. Leonard, has anterograde amnesia: he can remember everything up to a traumatic event, but can form no new memories of events since then. After five minutes, the past has gone for ever. So we, watching the colour scenes, are like him: we do not know what has just happened.
There are many points of contact with philosophy. There is the obvious connection with the memory criterion for personal identity, with the twist that Leonard is at all times psychologically rooted in the unchanging memories of his pre-trauma life. There is the fact that Leonard takes notes and photographs to help him to keep track of things. If we take Andy Clark's line that our notepads should be thought of as extensions of ourselves, rather than merely as external tools, then Leonard plus his notes and photographs can be seen as an organism that does have a continuous memory. And there is the fact that Leonard is used by others, in ways which mean that they would certainly not have agency-regarding relations with him in Carol Rovane's sense.
But for me, the most striking thing was something that was not there. When I watched Cinq fois deux, which presents five scenes from a relationship in reverse order, I found that scenes shown later seriously upset my interpretations of scenes shown earlier. The person who appeared to be in the wrong, turned out not to be (until the next scene). There was no such upsetting of interpretations with Memento. Perhaps this was because it is an action movie, rather than a film about a relationship.
There are many points of contact with philosophy. There is the obvious connection with the memory criterion for personal identity, with the twist that Leonard is at all times psychologically rooted in the unchanging memories of his pre-trauma life. There is the fact that Leonard takes notes and photographs to help him to keep track of things. If we take Andy Clark's line that our notepads should be thought of as extensions of ourselves, rather than merely as external tools, then Leonard plus his notes and photographs can be seen as an organism that does have a continuous memory. And there is the fact that Leonard is used by others, in ways which mean that they would certainly not have agency-regarding relations with him in Carol Rovane's sense.
But for me, the most striking thing was something that was not there. When I watched Cinq fois deux, which presents five scenes from a relationship in reverse order, I found that scenes shown later seriously upset my interpretations of scenes shown earlier. The person who appeared to be in the wrong, turned out not to be (until the next scene). There was no such upsetting of interpretations with Memento. Perhaps this was because it is an action movie, rather than a film about a relationship.
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
Forsyte speculation
Engrossed in The Forsyte Saga, an excellent series of novels, I ask myself why a Hindsight Saga would be of no interest. Why is the unexpected so important in novels? Why would it not do for the characters to know what was coming, to be as well-informed about how things would turn out as they would be with hindsight? (This is quite different from the reader's not knowing what is coming, an ignorance that may be important on a first reading, but the later lack of which does not make re-readings a waste of time.) I think that the main reason is that they would not be leading our kind of life, a life in which we do not know what is coming, so that we could not identify with them.
Kierkegaard famously remarked that “It is quite true what philosophy says, that life must be understood backward. But then one forgets the other principle, that it must be lived forward” (Kierkegaard’s Journals and Notebooks, volume 2, edited by Niels Jørgen Cappelørn et al., JJ:167, page 179). But that makes the lack of foresight sound like an accidental handicap, rather than a deep feature of our way of life. It is amusing to speculate on how much would change if we were endowed with reliable foresight. I suspect that our social institutions would change just as much as if we were endowed with the power to read one another's minds.
Kierkegaard famously remarked that “It is quite true what philosophy says, that life must be understood backward. But then one forgets the other principle, that it must be lived forward” (Kierkegaard’s Journals and Notebooks, volume 2, edited by Niels Jørgen Cappelørn et al., JJ:167, page 179). But that makes the lack of foresight sound like an accidental handicap, rather than a deep feature of our way of life. It is amusing to speculate on how much would change if we were endowed with reliable foresight. I suspect that our social institutions would change just as much as if we were endowed with the power to read one another's minds.
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