Recently in Phil Talk Category

There have been several challenges to the multiple realizability framework (MR).  Kim (1992) argues by analogy that 'pain' is like 'jade', the latter being a non-projectible term since the property expressed just is the disjunction jadeite or nephrite.  In the case of 'pain', assuming causal closure of the physical and causal inheritance, pain just is the disjunction of its realizers.  Since disjunctions of heterogeneous properties are unfit for inclusion in laws, 'pain' is unfit for inclusion in laws.
     Recently, a colleague of mine, Ted Poston, and I have been developing a paper (presented at the Alabama Philosophical Society's 2008 meeting under the title, "Alethic Functionalism and the Metaphysics of Reduction") arguing that Kim's argument applies to alethic functionalism, a view developed by Michael Lynch (UConn) which holds that truth is a higher-order, multiply realizable property.  In this post I don't want to consider that argument; rather I want to consider something tangentially related, namely the issue of translation.
     Assumptions:
    (1) Genuine MR properties are autonomous (non-reducible).
    (2) Truth is a genuine MR property.
From this it follows that
    (3) Truth is non-reducible.

What sense of autonomy are we working with here?  Although several commentators have sought to avoid Kim's conclusion in different ways (see Antony (2003), Antony and Levine (1997), David (1997), I want to focus on Fodor's (1997) "Special Sciences: Still Autonomous after All These Years."  In that piece Fodor argues that the disjunction of a higher-order property's realizers must be "metaphysically open" in order to avoid the identification of the higher-order property with the disjunction for the reason that disjunctions are unfit for inclusion in laws while higher-order, genuine MR properties are fit for inclusion in laws.  

    (4) A  disjunction of realizers for a property P is metaphysically open when there exist metaphysically possible but non-actual realizers for P. 

Jade is not a genuine MR property because it just is either jadeite or nephrite.   Pain, on the other hand, is a genuine MR property because there exist metaphysically possible but non-actual realizers for pain (a state of a computer, say).
    Enough by way of summary.  In this post I want to argue that this view has a surprising implication.  Let me note that for Lynch discourses are not contexts (in the semanticists sense).  Discourses can be thought of as sets of sentences (or propositions, if you like) such that all members of a set have the same "near perfect" realizer, where a discourse's near perfect realizer will be the property playing the "truth role" for that discourse.  For my purposes, it does not matter how they are determined (whether a priori, etc.).  Let me add a few more assumptions.

    (5) If a sentence S of L translates a sentence R of L2 then S and R have the same realizer property, that is, S and R belong to the same discourse.

I am not going to argue for a specific view of translation, but suffice it to say that many anti-reductionists argue by way of failure of regimentation of recalcitrant sentences into a less problematic idiom to the non-reducibility of the former (or its metaphysical commitments) to the latter (to its metaphysical commitments).  If translation ensures reduction one way or the other then sentences standing in the translation relation to one another must have the same metaphysical commitments and hence must belong to the same discourse.

     Now, (6) If x is a genuine MR property then x has a metaphysically open disjunction of realizers.  [Fodor's claim]

    So, (7) truth has a metaphysically open disjunction of realizers.  [from (1), (2), (6)]

But then (8) there exist metaphysically possible but non-actual realizers for truth (or non-actual discourses)  [from (7) and (4)]
    Let's call one such non-actual discourse NA.

    (9)  NA contains a sentence S (or proposition S) belonging to a non-actual discourse with a non-actual realizer for truth.  [from (8) and definition of discourse]

    (10)  If S were translatable into a sentence of an actual language then it would belong to an actual discourse. [from (5)]

    But (11) S doesn't belong to an actual discourse. [from (9)]

    Hence, (12) there exists a discourse with a sentence (or proposition) untranslatable (or unexpressible) by any sentence belonging to a language in the actual world. [from (10), (11), (9)].

Long story short, if one thinks that truth is a genuine MR property and that such properties have metaphysically open disjunctions of realizers, then one is committed to the existence of in principle untranslatable but metaphysically possible languages (or language fragments).

 

According to CNN.com, Walter Scott, 24, of New Zealand, sold his soul to Hell's Pizza for $3800.  See story here.  He tried to list it on TradeMe, but the item was taken town because it was deemed in bad taste.  What's interesting is that a 21 year old US student tried to sell his soul on Ebay but the auction was taken town because the company ruled that something tangible needed to be exchanged for a viable sale.  But are there problems with selling one's soul?  I don't recall any religion saying one has to own one's soul in order to enter the pearly gates, only that one's soul be pure, good, etc.  Does it really matter who owns it?  I mean, if it's my soul, it's still me. 
     But let's look at the logic of it for a second and let's assume that I am identical to my soul (a la Descartes).  The following principle seems plausible: If x = y then x can't own y.  I can own lots of things, but if I own something then it follows that the thing I own is separate from the thing doing the owning.  Right?  If so then I don't own my soul.  But if I don't own it then I can't sell it?  Therefore if Scott sold his soul then he is not identical to his soul and if Scott is identical to his soul then the sale of his soul was illegitimate (where by an 'illegitimate sale' I understand at least a sale of something one does not own).  Therefore Descartes is wrong to identify me with my soul if souls can be sold.  Souls can be sold (W. Scott did it).  Therefore Descartes is wrong.  Thoughts?

[Too simplistic a view of Descartes?  Maybe.  But let's have some fun with it.]

is here. 

Last Friday I had the fortune of returning to my alma mater, Mississippi State University, to deliver a talk on how my study of philosophy (and religion) affects my life and scholarship.  There were four other alumni returning to give similar talks.  Yolanda Estes, current professor at MSU and Univ. of Kentucky Ph.D., gave the final talk of the day.  While not on the technical side, these talks were designed to be accessible to the public and to provide an honest look at how professional philosophers understand scholarship and how it affects their lives.  I bring this up because I want briefly to summarize the point of my talk because I think it is so important. 

The gist of my talk is a point about the scholar.  I maintain that the scholar (minimally) understands both sides of a certain duality.  The duality is that between refutation, on the one hand, and following an argument where it leads, on the other.  Although my point is more generally applicable, it applies especially well to philosophy.

Think back to the first Phi-100 course you took.  Chances are you read several works on many different topics.  The typical impression that results from such a class is the impression that there is no right answer.  Take a look at Plato's theory of whatever.  Aristotle refutes (a version of) if with his "third-man" argument.  But Aristotle gets modified by so-and-so.  That person in turn gets modified by...  The process goes on and on.  Students may get out of this, even against their prof's own wishes, the moral that all positions have holes in them and, thus, if all positions have holes then all positions are equal.  What else do they get out of it?  They learn several tools for refutation.  They learn objections to every position they encounter.  Oh, so you're a dualist?  I have a problem for you.  Oh, you're a physicalist, good luck explaining qualia. 

Needless to say, this attitude is dangerous (remember the sophists?) and not an accurate impression of the discipline.  But, and here is where I pushed the duality I noted above, the scholar does not just know all of the standard and non-standard "refutations" of all of the positions, she also has indulged in the positions.  She has put on her physicalist-hat, or her dualist-hat, and seen what mileage the positions have.  She has pushed these positions to the limit and seen what they can do, what they can explain.  If, at the end of this process, she decides to give up on a position then that act is more significant than giving up on a position because you just learned it has a problem with causality, to take dualism for example.  A scholar's rejection, as we all already know, counts for more than someone else's. 

What is the proper balance?  Of course one should not stand firm come what may.  We can list the great philosophers who have given up on or modified their positions when it was called for.  But we shouldn't be too quick either.  We all know that general relativity won't be the final theory (so I've been told by experts).  But we don't give up on it without a suitable replacement.  We don't do it in physics, we don't do it in government, and we shouldn't do it in philosophy.  The scholar is the one in a unique position to make that choice and be warranted in that choice. 

In conclusion, yes, some positions can be refuted simply.  Most cannot.  However, most, nay, all, have some problem or other.  But, not all positions are equal, and this cannot be realized unless one really gets into a position and sees what it can do.  It is the scholar who is in the best position to do both. 

[Anyway, that is a precis of the talk I gave.  Any comments are welcome, of course.  I can see something like this ending up as the introduction to an intro book, or something similar, sometime down the line.]

is here.

The Philosophy Club at USA, Mobile met last night to discuss two chapters of Dawkins's The God Delusion (Houghton Mifflin, 2006).  It was brought up that Dawkins's rebuttal of the Fine Tuning Argument for god's existence was too quick.  For those of you unfamiliar with Chater 4, in it he uses the "Anthropic Principle" to help explain away the argument.  It doesn't matter how small the number of life-conducive planets there are in the universe, "we necessarily have to be on one of that minority, because here we are thinking about it" (p. 136).

It was argued that this doesn't address versions of the Fine Tuning Argument that begin not from improbabilities about the liklihood of life turning up here but, instead, begin from facts about the physical constants--weak force, strong force, electromagnetic force, and gravity.  These are "tuned" in such a way that any minor change in any one of them would make life ("as we know it"?) almost impossible--matter might not even clump together.  To help motivate why the values of the forces need explanation one attendee brought up van Inwagen's straw-drawing example.  I'll paraphrase the characterization of it (I believe it is in van Inwagen's Metaphysics, which I haven't read):

Say you were presented with a billion straws all stacked up next to one another and were asked to choose the shortest straw (there is only one).  If you choose it, you will go on.  If you do not (999,999,999:1 against), then you will die before you are even aware of your choice.  So, you choose and, lo and behold, you choose the shortest straw.  The question: Why did you choose that one?  It was such an unlikely event that it calls out for explanation.  By analogy, the constants could have been lots of values, so why are they the values they are instead of one of the many other combinations not suitable for life?  This cries out for explanation.

is here.

is here.

One of my hobbies is playing poker and following poker news.  At Cardplayer's website is a section featuring analysis of a famous hand from the World Series of Poker.  This time it was a hand from the 2005 WSOP $2000 buy-in event between Morgan Machina and Cyndy Violette.  The featured hands were Machina's Kh10h vs. Violette's 10d8d.  In the analysis the author referred to Violette's hand as "dominated."  S/he then went on to define 'dominated' as "a hand not likely to win because another hand dominates it." 

While correct, it sheds no conceptual illumination on what it is to have a hold 'em poker hand dominated.  If only everyone were required to read just the introduction to a philosophy of language anthology, the world'd be a better place. 

My definition, you ask?  Attempt #1:  In a heads up situation, a hold 'em poker hand is dominated just in case the other hand is over a 2 to 1 favorite preflop to win the pot.  This would clearly include the hand above (where Machina was about 2.4 to 1 to win) as well as those times when a player's pair faces a bigger pair preflop (when the odds in favor of the bigger pair are about 4 to 1). 

Beyond just stating odds at the risk of extreme precisification, I'm not sure how to do it.

Better late than never, it is here.