Showing posts with label Epistemology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Epistemology. Show all posts

Friday, September 28, 2007

the pre-Plantingian argument that (naturalistic) evolution is self-defeating.

Prior to Plantinga’s notorious argument C.S. Lewis, much to my astonishment, articulated the self-same idea. I say ‘much to my astonishment’ because I’ve always maintained that Lewis is way overrated. I remember during my first few years at Biola rolling my eyes in annoyance at the constant ‘Well C.S. Lewis says this’, or ‘The Abolition of Man is sooooo awessoooooooooome, dude’. Suffice to say, amongst all of this C.S. Lewis worship, I felt entirely vindicated when I read Craig (William Lane) saying that ‘Dostoevsky was a far greater writer’ than Lewis. Take that Clive Staples! But now I’m not so impressed by Craig’s comment, for Dostoevsky and Lewis are hardly comparable authors; the genres of Dostoevsky and Lewis are not comparable. Anyway, I was delighted when I came across this, and I wonder why I haven’t come across people giving credit to Lewis for this. The following excerpt is from Lewis’ The Funeral of a Great Myth. ‘The Great Myth’ is Lewis’ term for the theory of evolution:

What makes it impossible that [evolution] should be true is not so much the lack
of evidence for this or that scene in the drama or the fatal self-contradiction
which runs right through it. The Myth cannot even get going without
accepting a good deal from the real sciences. And the real sciences cannot
be accepted for a moment unless rational inferences are valid: for every science
claims to be a series of inferences from observed facts. It is only by
such inferences that can reach your nebulae and protoplasm and dinosaurs and
sub-men and cave-men at all. Unless you start by believing that reality in
the remotest space and the remotest time rigidly obeys the laws of logic, you
can have no ground for believing in any astronomy, any biology, any
paleontology, any archeology. To reach the positions held by the real
scientists- which are then taken over by the Myth- you must- in fact, treat
reason as an absolute. But at the same time the Myth asks me to believe
that reason is simply the unforeseen and unintended by-product of a mindless
process at one stage of its endless and aimless becoming. The content of
the Myth thus knocks from under me the only ground on which I could possibly
believe the Myth to be true. If my own mind is the product of the
irrational- if what seem my clearest reasonings are only the way in which a
creature conditioned as I am is bound to feel- how shall I trust my mind when it
tells me about Evolution? They say in effect ‘I will prove that what you
call a proof is only the result of mental habits which result from heredity
which results from bio-chemistry which results from physics.’ But this is the
same as saying: ‘I will prove that proofs are irrational’: more
succinctly, ‘I will prove that there are no proofs’: The fact that some
people of scientific education cannot by any effort be taught to see the
difficulty, confirms one’s suspicion that we here touch a radical disease in
their whole style of thought. But the man who does see it, is compelled to
reject as mythical the cosmology in which most of us were brought up. That it
has embedded in it many true particulars I do not doubt: but in its entirety, it
simply will not do. Whatever the real universe may turn out to be like, it
can’t be like that.


That’s basically Plantinga’s argument in a nut-shell; without the symbolic notation of course, but just as powerful.

On a related note: Assuming that some-ultra sophisticated evolutionist can answer this objection cogently, I have another related but distinct complaint. If evolution, broadly construed, is true, then the reason I would instinctively react in fear if a black widow spider were crawling on my foot is because, somewhere in the evolutionary story of my heredity, a freak mutation occurred in the human (whatever that is) genome that caused people to react in such a way to spiders. The ‘people’ who didn’t have such a mutation got killed by spiders, the ones who did survived and passed the instinct on. This story is dramatically opposed to how we normally consider the phenomenon. If I were to see a black widow crawl on my foot it seems to me that I would react in fear in virtue of the fact that black widow spiders look scary and are dangerous. But the evolutionary story says that they only look scary and seem dangerous because a mutation in my genome made me think that way, and it just so happened to keep my species surviving. That’s the queerest thing I’ve ever heard: that I think that spiders are dangerous because of a freak mutation, not because I see a spider that is dangerous.

The point is subtle, I suppose, but hopefully it’s starring you in the face.

Anyway, kudos to Clive, may his memory be Eternal.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

the barbarian sees red!

I had a discussion with my new found friend Tim; a guy I met at my Starbucks. Of the many discussions and disagreements we’ve gotten into, one of them is the following. I questioned the assumption many people seem to think is obviously true; namely, the proposition that “one cannot know a thing unless one has something else to compare it to.” Why think this is true? And the reply went something like, “because without the ability to make a distinction between any two things, one cannot be aware of anything in particular.” So I went experimenting in my thoughts and came up with the following scenario:

Imagine there is a barbarian (by ‘barbarian’ I mean a man who knows no language nor any language users) who lives in a rainforest paradise with birds and trees and all sorts of other wonderful created things, but unlike most rainforests known to man this particular rainforest and everything in it is colored red, and no thing in the forest is any color besides red, and all things in the forest are the same hue or red. Imagine further that our barbarian has the same sort of vision, lighting conditions, and neural network, such that, everything going on with us when we see red also goes on with our barbarian. So the question is, does our barbarian know the forest is red? I imagine he would be seeing the same thing we do when we see red, but of course he wouldn’t know there is other possible colors than red, or even further that there is such a thing as natural-kind ‘colors,’ since anyone who knows about the natural kind colors would have to be aware of at least two. Bust despite all of this, isn’t it the case that our barbarian sees red when he looks at everything in the forest? Would he have a name for phenomenon of red? Probably not, since I think in most cases words are created in response to distinctions, and our barbarian knows of no other color to distinguish the color he sees. So if we asked him, “Mr. Barbarian, do you see red?” He probably wouldn’t know what we are referring to, because the thing we’re referring too (the red he sees) would be so universally manifested that he would unconsciously assume that the red he sees is not something distinct from everything else in the rainforest. But despite all this, is he not seeing the same hue of red we see when we see the same hue of red he sees? He’s got to be seeing the red in the forest, and this is true despite the fact he wouldn’t be able to communicate his knowledge to us. To claim that “one cannot know a thing unless one has something else to compare it to”, one must show how the above stated scenario is not only improbably but logically impossible. And good luck showing that…

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

What is Religion? And Dawkins isn't too bad a fellow - he does have some good stuff to say.

[Although it is often difficult for me to escape what may seem to be condescending or at least certain rhetoric, much of this blog has been a journey for me, and I hope at least some of my honest inquisitiveness is visible through the veil. For all actual condescension and wrongfully dogmatic or inflammatory language I apologize, whether I did it intentionally.]

Is religion the designation for a group of topics, one's opinions about which constitute his religion? This can't be it, because choosing to believe that there is a God makes a person religious. But according to this definition of religion, taking the opposite position, that there is no God, is also a religious belief. I doubt most atheists want to call themselves religious.

Is religion a set of traditions? If this is so, then going to Starbucks every day would be a religious activity. Celebrating birthdays doesn't seem to qualify as religious either. Let's try again.

Is religion a set of propositions that render a man religious upon affirmation? This might be closer. If anyone affirms that there is a God, gods, or anything supernatural, then he is called religious. If this is so, then religious beliefs shouldn't be disqualified merely on the basis of their category. Rather, they should be investigated to determine whether they are reasonable. In this case, the proposition "God exists" is something that a free thinker, scientist, or philosopher may inquire as to the truth of. Such an inquirer may come to agree with the proposition in question, rendering him religious. Or, he may come to disagree with the proposition, rendering him, in this case, irreligious. Either stance, if arrived at rationally, may turn out to be a scientific or philosophically defensible position.

Is religion an epistemology that derives belief from authority, tradition, intuition, and/or feeling? This also comes close to the popular use of the term. Most classified "religions" such as Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, and yes, even Christianity, hold epistemological frameworks that elevate tradition (pick your holy book), authority (pick your religious leader), intuition (pick your bosom-burning), and/or feeling (can you feel the Spirit?). If this is what religion is, then I want no part in it.

My personal goal is to seek to believe in what is true, meaning what is accurate to reality. In my humble and limited experience I have come to esteem science and logic as avenues to arrive at truth. I am a sort of free thinker, an arm-chair scientist, a lay anthropologist, and a budding young philosopher.

On an only semi-related, but very important note...

I have recently sworn off all conspiracy theories. These include common Christian presumptions about the hatred and deceitfulness of atheists and other non-Christians. I have actually been finding Dawkins to be quite a reasonable man. His scientific discourses are interesting, clear, and informative. I think that his qualms with religion are valid, and in fact I share them. He is right to rebut screwy epistemology, promote science and free inquiry, as well as common sense.Link

I think that people of all religions, including Christianity, have more to learn from him than teach him. I have always been uncomfortable with the notion of "blind faith". I grow increasingly frustrated with with what I call "folk Christianity", and with the Religious Right.

I have even been reforming much of my own world view and behavior as of late. I feel like I have a large humility pill I need to swallow. I feel that I have been guilty of a lot of ad-hoc thinking, red herrings, and ad hominems. I have been guilty of sweeping aside arguments merely because of their source (genetic fallacy). But I am young, and this transition in my development marks only an important period of growth, and the beginning of a new stage of thinking.

Perhaps instead of fighting Dawkins, Christianity should embrace what he has to say and teach. Perhaps we need a wake up call. This is not to say that we can't engage Dawkins logically, however.

After all, we were the ones who use to build the universities, kick off the science experiments, and promote literacy. We use to drink, smoke cigars and pipes, experiment with music, talk philosophy, engage the culture, make friends with prostitutes, and love the homeless. Yes, there are many who do this today, and yes, we've certainly had our dark and hateful times in the past as well. We have a lot to learn, and a long way to go in many areas.

Why don't modern Evangelicals clearly see the destructiveness in accusation and judgment as much as they see the destructiveness in individual sins and disbeliefs themselves? Why are we so scared to encourage doubt? Why are we glad to see our children and friends believe in the right things for the wrong reasons, or using the right beliefs to motivate wrong behaviors?

The average "Christian" today couldn't give a rational defense for his beliefs. This grieves me.

At the end of the day, I remain a Christian. By this I mean that I believe that the Bible is true, I believe there is a God who exists as three persons, and I believe that Jesus is fully and completely God, as well as fully and completely human. I believe that He died for my sins, and that my trusting in Him is an important part of accepting the gift of eternal life. I believe that He can offer this to me, because despite the wages of sin being death, Jesus died as a penal substitution for me. Communing with Him is exactly that, and will persist after bodily death. I will one day reunite with my body in some capacity, and all of creation will be redeemed, from the stars to the rocks to the plants to the animals. Those who reject Christ (whatever form that takes, and whoever they are - I am not placing judgment) will be dealt with justly and permanently.

But why I continue to believe in these things follows an ironically more traditional line of thought than many modern Evangelicals. I do not choose to believe in these things, and allow these beliefs to motivate certain behaviors, merely because my parents taught them to me. Nor do I believe in them because millions of people do. I don't accept the Bible on blind faith, then follow everything it says without question. I don't believe that doubts and questions should be suppressed.

Now I have to admit, I grew up in a Christian family, who went to church weekly. I am white. I am an American citizen. I "accepted the Lord", so to speak, when I was two years old. What this means for my position as an objective observer, I fear. Forgive my vulnerability.

Nevertheless, as of today, I maintain that there exists a sufficient body of empirical and logical evidence to render my beliefs at the very least reasonable. Furthermore, I have experiential warrant for the continuity of my faith. Any attempt at persuading others on certain matters should be done so based on evidence of varying kinds; I don't pretend I have all the answers, but I don't ask anyone to accept my world view without good reason.

I may have grown up thinking like a Christian, but any beliefs that have persisted have done so because of what I judge to be good reason. I ask nobody to take my word for it, but encourage everybody to investigate these matters on their own.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Ashley's Testimony

In one of my classes the students are organized into cohorts, which have to meet weekly to discuss course content. After meeting with my cohort every week throughout the semester I began to get to know them. During the course of a particular conversation, one of my new friends, Ashley Schroeder, shared a little bit about an experience she called a miracle. I asked her if she would be willing to send me a quick email, answering two things. I wanted to know what she considered a "miracle", and I also wanted a brief description of the one she thought she experienced. This is the email I got back:

Sorry life is crazy! Here is some of it... if you want more info then I
will give it to you. I think a miracle is an act that only God could do
for which there is no other explanation.

It is hard for me to see how anyone could deny Christ because of all He
has done for me. I have suffered from severe asthma since I was little.
During high school I rarely went three or four days with out one if not
two attacks. It was hard and left me weak and sick. Coming to Biola was
a rough transition. My first semester here I got sent to the hospital ER
with a really bad attack, worse than any before. I was released after 6
hours, exhausted and weak. I was still struggling with multiple attacks a
week. Then I had one so bad I was in the hospital for four days at the
beginning of my spring semester. The Tuesday after this attack I was at
my bible study, and I started having another attack, the group began to
pray over me, and it stopped. I have never had an attack since. It is
truly a miracle of God and an awesome one at that.


Ashley Schroeder~

Sigma lobby gang 4ever! :)
Ashley is a senior, so it has been three years since her last asthma attack. Is her belief that the stopping of her asthma attacks is a miracle worked by God able to be demonstrated conclusively? Is it reasonable? Is she rational for adding this to her pile of reasons to believe, next to other experiences (perhaps less miraculous), a cosmological argument, 30 units of theological study, and years of reading the bible? If her reasons to believe outweigh the arguments and testimonies of nonchristians that she has heard, is her faith understandable? Should we ask Ashley to withold belief until she has read every book and spoken to every scientist about whether or not God exists?

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

The Truth-Teller (A)Paradox

If a man always tells the truth, and his statements never affirm anything false, how can you know? Suppose I approach a fork in a road, I am forced to choose one of the paths, and I have a time limit. If I do not choose, I default to the wrong path. There is a man standing at the entrance to the right path. He identifies himself as "Truth-man". The following dialogue ensues:

L: Should I take the left path or the right path?
Truth-man: Take the path to the right.
L: Are you telling the truth?
Truth-man: I always tell the truth.
L: But if you always lied, then your previous statement would be false, meaning that you do not always tell the truth. And if you do not always tell the truth, how can I trust any given claim you make?
Truth-man: But if it is true that I always tell the truth, then my claim would also be true.
L: That is circular.
Truth-man: The truth is coherent with itself.
L: I still have no way of getting myself into your circle. Even a pure liar may be coherent.
Truth-man: Two plus two is four. Now you know that I am at least capable of telling the truth, so you can rule out the "pure liar" theory.
L: Thanks. What is three multiplied by two?
Truth-man: Six.
L: We could do this all day.
Truth-man: Every truth I tell testifies to my integrity.
L: Are you wise, too?
Truth-man: Yes. Being one who always tells the truth entails that I be one who is wise.
L: What is the best way for me to determine whether you always tell the truth?
Truth-man: In my wisdom I know of a very good reason why I should not give you that answer. In addition to telling the truth and being wise, I only behave in accordance with truth and wisdom. I therefore cannot tell you the answer to your question.
L: Why can't you tell me the answer to my question?
Truth-man: Your questions will only dead-end if you continue to seek what you are.
L: What makes the sky blue?
Truth-man: Finding out certain truths in certain ways is essential to your growth, and being wise entails that I be good. I therefore cannot tell you the answer to your question.
L: What should I seek?
Truth-man: You should seek truth, wisdom, and goodness.
L: What about the fork in the road?
Truth-man: If I am wise, I know what is best for you to seek. If I am good I will tell you what it is. Give up your goal to seek my things and you will find your way.

Monday, October 30, 2006

My Solution to Hume: An Addendum to My Journal on the Problem of Induction

I believe that Hume's skepticism then, is completely justified when it comes to induction in the broad sense. For example: looking at one (or one million - what does it matter?) crows and reasoning that all crows are black. Or interacting with one (or one million) females and concluding that every female is irrational. These conclusions may be reasonable, but they are not certain.

But I think we can save, or maybe strengthen, the sciences (at least in part). The difficulty is that when it comes to geometry or algebra, one can investigate these things a priori. But with the physical world, the only way we can even possibly find out about physical laws (e.g. whether matter and energy are conserved) is to examine the evidence. Although not necessarily within the category of Empiricism, science is empirical: a posteriori.

So what I would like to do is posit an a priori grounds for science. I believe I have already laid the foundation for it.

If it is true that the nature of the necessarily existing order is necessary (i.e. if it is not arbitrary that this order is the order), then, not only does science help us to learn about the order (just as a teacher helps me learn about calculus), but it helps us discover which possible world this one is.

So, we can know that there is order a priori. We can know about order a priori. We can even speculate about different potential types of physical matter or all the different possible worlds a priori. But, we cannot know which of the possible worlds is the actual world a priori. In fact, as soon as we open our eyes we have already participated in a sensory experience, rendering our enterprise an a posteriori one.

So science is about aiding our naked eyes with instruments, gathering in information about the contingent world. When we generalize the behaviors of physical objects, we are actually describing two things. First, we are describing the nature and constitution of the physical objects in question. Next, we are describing the laws by which they relate to each other (and my position as of this writing is that these laws are inherent in reality and therefore necessary). This second thing is actually compound. The way things relate to one another is determined both by the inherent order of reality AND by the constitution of the objects. It is difficult to describe the physical nature of something without analyzing how it behaves. Therefore science involves BOTH a priori and a posteriori tasks, but its foundation is laid a priori.

What about laws that have exceptions? If a law is shown to have exceptions to it, then we are not describing the ultimate enough reality. For example, if a white crow is found in Pasadena, then it is demonstrated that it never was actually a law that all crows are black. Laws describe the ultimate reality, where exceptions don't truly exist. If free agency and miracles are real, then the underlying laws are somehow setup to allow for these things. The reasons for their rarity may be accounted for by contingent factors (e.g. stars very rarely explode. In fact, we have no human record of our sun ever exploding. However we know that it will if left alone for long enough. Just because we haven't found out how it might be possible for a man to synthesize wine from water without modern tools, doesn't mean that it is impossible. To conclude so would be an argument from ignorance unless it is shown precisely why it is logically incoherent.). It cannot ever be that a true law, one accurate to the inherent order of things, gets broken. Chaos (randomness, chance, probability) is metaphysically impossible. When thinking about crows, one can see that they are contingent beings. So to incorporate them into the description of a law is problematic from the outset. This problem will be difficult, if not impossible, to avoid in science, however. But we should want to get at broader and broader generalizations.

So we are justified in performing scientific tasks, because we know a priori that the order inherent in reality is necessary. Science has as its goals, firstly to help us learn about order (God), secondly to help us learn about this world (creation).

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Scattered Thoughts on Crow Blackness Likelihood, Solipsism, and Order

I have been musing about crows, blackness, and probability since I met with Derek von Barandy and James Gibson about Hume and Bonjour last Thursday night. Let me share a snippet of my thoughts with you, as writing it down helps me to work it out in my mind.

This is not meant as an argument, but my own unorganized ponderings.

There are ten birds in a cage, five of which are white. The likelihood of me selecting a white bird with my eyes closed is 5/10. In a bird cage whose total number of birds is unknown to me, I cannot calculate the likelihood of white bird selection.

Such is the case in our world, whose total number of crows is unknown to me. If I examine 1 crow and find it to be black, my probability of selecting a black crow in the future becomes 1/X. If I examine 2 black crows, I increase my odds, but I can never reach a point at which it is true to say that my odds make it more likely that I will select another black crow for examination. For it is an epistemic possibility for me that there exist but 2 black crows in a world whose crow population remains unknown.

After selecting 2 black crows I can truthfully say that, on account of my experience, it is more likely that another black crow is found (in this case "more" is a term relating to my first trial). This is so because last time my odds were 1/X, and this time my odds are 2/X (we are assuming X is a finite number - there are only so many crows that exist at the time of the exam).

Thus, although I am able to increase my epistemic odds by examination, I am unable to know my actual odds.

Advancing from black crow selection to crow population description raises the problem I want to illumine. Suppose I want to support the claim "all crows are black". To do this I can examine one million crows, lending support to my hypothesis and perhaps rendering it a theory. The "odds" of blindly selecting a black crow after such an experiment are 1,000,000/X.

Terms like "probability" as applied to the truthfulness of my theory are problematic. I cannot say that my theory is "probably true", as I cannot express it as probabilities are expressed. What I can say is that now that my hypothesis is a theory it is relatively more probable to be true that it was when it was a mere hypothesis. I am not telling the truth if I say that my theory is "probably true".

Actual probability calculated for such a claim defeats the relevancy of such calculation. This is so for all exhaustive claims about reality. To start with, I cannot find terms to fit the probability schema. What is to be the numerator? What is to be the denominator? If this world is the numerator (i.e., if it is true that all crows are black in this world), then my numerator is 1. If I somehow know the number of possible worlds (assuming that it is a finite number), then I suppose I can use it for my denominator. I would also have to know the number of possible worlds whose entire crow population is black (never mind the difficulty in examining every crow in every possible world).

But in discovering what I can truthfully place in the numerator position I have found the relevant information. I will have had to find out already whether all crows are black in this world. In discovering this truth I have eliminated the need for me to calculate how probable it is that all crows are black (in this world).

Perhaps it would be helpful on another front to learn how narrow the parameters are that our world lies within. If the denominator of our "probability", or number of trials (i.e. number of possible worlds), is large relative to the numerator, or number of possible worlds that only have black crows, then we can count it remarkable that our world is one in which all crows are black. For example, if we can somehow learn that 12 out of 1,000,000 possible worlds have naught but black crows, then we should marvel at the fact that our world lies within the parameter of 'having only black crows'.

If we are careful, we can see that actual probabilities do not exist. If it is true that all crows are black, then the probability is 1. There is no crap shoot.

But what about the probability of this world being the one that occurred? Isn't that an actual probability? Here is where care must be taken. We must not mistake probability with possibility. Let's examine what it means for something to be possible.

There are four categories that a thing can fall into:

1. Necessary
2. Contingent
3. Possible
4. Impossible

Necessary things are those that cannot be otherwise than they are. They exist in every possible world.

Contingent things are those that can be otherwise than they are. They exist in this world, but not in every possible world.

Possible things are those that can be. They exist in at least one possible world, and they do not exist in at least one possible world.

Impossible things are those that cannot be. They do not exist in any possible world.

Although it may be true that all crows are white in some possible world, it may not be so that any crows are white in this world. What I mean is that the truth of my theory, that all crows are black (in this world), does not depend on whether the contrary is possible in another world. In fact, the truth of my theory depends on whether it is true in this world.

In discovering whether it is true in this world, I do not eliminate the possibility of its falsehood in another world. But whether it is true in this world is not probabilistic. This world is this world, and our tomorrow is not arbitrarily selected from among possibilities. Rather, tomorrow is created by the state of affairs that exist today, combined with personal determination.

Let me show you what I mean. If all crows are black in this world, and it is because of something in crow genetics that doesn't change as time advances, then it will be so tomorrow that all the crows in this world will be black. Crows will mate, the earth will rotate on its axis and advance its revolution 1/365.25th, and we will examine all new crows spawned and find them all to be black.

I say that personal determination is the other force that creates tomorrow because, as a certain set of meteorological circumstances yields a rainstorm, I can choose to operate upon the immediate sky above Los Angeles and alter the outcome of today. I could do this by creating a large fan, blowing the warm front out of the course of the cold front. While physical states of affairs are deterministic of their following physical states of affairs, personal agency can alter states of affairs. Such agency is not arbitrary, but it is not itself determined. Rather, it is determining. The nature of its ability to determine rests upon the power and authority whereby it determines, as well as its options in determining. Thus all things have as their first cause (a) choice(s) made by (a) person(s). My physics/metaphysics is not the key, however.

What is the key is that what produces tomorrow does so determiningly and according to a framework, not probabilistically and/or without boundaries. Thus, in cases that are produced within systems of pure physical causation, the outcome may be predicted. For example, once a pair of dice are thrown, if a physicist is given the opportunity to measure the velocity and spin of the dice, as well as their distance to the ground and the shape and exact physical nature of any obstacles, he is capable of predicting the outcome. The outcome is not probable, it is certain.

In systems that contain personal forces, outcomes are not produced probabilistically either. A person's choices are not made for them arbitrarily or randomly. The person is responsible for determining the choice. Moreover, he must do so with the burden of forces and compulsions influencing his will. The decision must also be one of available decisions to make, and it must be according to the laws in operation.

If you do not accept my physics/metaphysics, then it is even easier for you to see the non-arbitrary, or non-probabilistic nature of outcomes. For it may be that even personal decisions are nothing more than the tantamount of complex and layered physical phenomena.

In the case of the dice roll, outcomes are not probable, they are certain and fixed. Outcomes are, however, possible. If our epistemic situation is limited (i.e., we are not aware of the initial states and governing laws of the dice), then we call given outcomes probable according to what we know is possible. There are six sides to a die, and only one will be facing upwards at the end of the roll. We call this a probability, but it is only one epistemically. The trajectory of the dice will be determined by the person, and the rest is up to physical states of affairs that are reliable (the size of the dice and the force of gravity, etc.).

In the case of my theory that all crows (in this world) are black, it either is so or it isn't. My theory is possibly true, but it cannot accurately be said to be probably true, unless by this we only mean that we have warrant to believe in it and our warrant increases with every black crow that is found.

We therefore cannot ever elevate a theory contingent upon experience to the status of certain truth. To be rational, we must therefore choose to believe what we find to be the most epistemically probable truth (when it comes to some beliefs, warrant may consist of both empirical and logical evidence). This is what I call faith: belief in a proposition for which evidence exists, but irrefutable proof one way or the other is not observed. It is an active belief, but should not be held without reason.

When considering whether to believe in something, one ought to consider first the evidence in favor of it, and then consequences of accepting such a belief. This is what Jesus speaks of at the end of chapter 14 of Luke's gospel when He says, "Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple. For which one of you, when he wants to build a tower, does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if he has enough to complete it?"

An issue entangled in this pondering is the reliability of science. Hume argued that for inductive enterprises (such as physics), in contrast to a priori enterprises (such as mathematics - within which domain we are able to fully examine just a single case of 2 + 2 equally 4 and make justified conclusions about all instances of 2 + 2), there cannot be found rational justification. In other words, why do we assume causation, and expect that the future will resemble the past? Couldn't it just be coincidence that the cue ball was accelerating South at 3 miles per hour, and when it reached the eight ball it lost its energy, and then the eight ball (unconnectedly) assumed the same amount of energy (minus friction) and continued South? What, exactly, is to assure the same "effect" in the future? The "law" that we think is governing billiard ball behavior is only a description of past experience, and causality is assumed.

A physicist will explain the mechanical issues that "caused" the transfer of energy at the time of the collision, but his world contains that same problem, on a smaller level. Why is it that atoms operate the way they do? Then - why is it that particles act the way they do? This will go on until objects get too small for us to examine at the present, and the only answer scientists can give us that they have run experiments and written descriptions of the way physical things interact with each other. They used these descriptions to predict the future, and the future did indeed resemble the past.

But we have run into our crow problem. We cannot calculate even the epistemic probability of the future without knowing about every case. Our "odds" only increase. There is never a point where we know that we have examined a majority of the cases of a physical occurrence within the universe. We can therefore never make the claim that something is "most likely". We never know how big our sample size is relative to the whole.

Bonjour's solution is to say that if we continue to find that a scientific law predicts the future, then we have reason to believe that there is something causing the outcome, and it is most likely that there exists a real reason (a determiner) that we keep on finding black crows.

But this doesn't satisfy - it begs the question. In one sense, of course something caused the cases we found. Of course something caused the crows that we found to be black. But that doesn't mean that this cause operates upon all crows.

Even if we say that it is likely that there is a reason that most or, in our case, all of the crows we found were black, we run into problems. As I illustrated above, "probable" or "likely" is a fallacious descriptive. We cannot calculate actual probability, nor does it exist as regards the truth or falsehood of a proposition (a proposition either is true or it isn't - there isn't a chance as to whether it will become true or not, as we are inquiring as to its current state). At best, Bonjour's claim can be reconstructed to specifically epistemic probability as outlined above.

It seems then, that induction has its limits and we are forced into humility when it comes to all a posteriori enterprises.

Another issue related to these musings is the reliability of physical laws and, as I will show, the a priori argument for meta-order.

One can object to my reasoning by separating my claim into two. The first would be that the extant truth of a proposition is not probabilistic. The second would be that the truth of a proposition about the future is not probabilistic.

As to my first statement, it should seem obvious (although many thinkers today inadvertently undermine with their writings). If a proposition regards the way things are - reality - then it is either true or false. Whether or not we are aware of it, reality is as it is.

The second statement is more contentious. Is a proposition that concerns the future probabilistic? I hope that by now I have made my case for why the answer is 'no'. The future is determined. Certain facets of the future are not determined yet, but they will be determined by something or someone. Pure probability is not an operating force unto itself - it is a false notion.

One might do well to say that 'if physical law (x) remains in effect throughout our next experiment, then the outcome will be the same as last time'. I like this statement. Let's explore it: can I have a priori justification for believing that if every relevant factor remains the same, an identical outcome may be produced? Certainly we trust this in science, but can we know it with justified certainty?

Even though this type of humility ('if' physical laws stay the same - allows that we do not know whether physical laws are contingent and/or consistent within this world), it still assumes a meta-order. Let's describe the application of this assumption in our case. The one who says 'if all remains, an identical procedure will produce an identical outcome' is assuming that 'if all remains, an identical procedure will produce an identical outcome'.

Although these are identical statements, the second emphasizes the structure or necessity whereby the conclusion is drawn. You see, although we are now allowing even for the strange possibility that physical laws may not apply, we are saying that it is obvious that if they do then we can produce the desired outcome again. We are assuming that our experiment will follow some order. It is clearly impossible for us to repeat a literally identical experiment under literally identical conditions and produce an entirely alien outcome.

To apprehend this IS to understand its truth, just as to understand what it means when we think that 2 + 2 = 4 is to understand that it is true. Perceiving these propositions a priori is to perceive their justification.

This brings me to what I find to be the single most foundational and profound assumption of science: that the universe is intelligible. This order that exists outside ourselves can be understood.

To complicate my undertaking I want to consider the solipsists cosmological argument. I heard about a lady who wrote a philosopher, 'I am a solipsist, and I just can't understand why there aren't more of us'... he found her statement hilarious.

Suppose that I am disembodied, and have no experience of anything other than myself. I have never seen, felt, heard, smelt, or tasted. I have perceived of nothing. I am only capable of thinking, and so I begin to do so...

"I exist." I begin, without knowing that Descartes says that I should begin here. "I know this because I am thinking. I have not always existed, and I did not bring myself into existence. There must be something that brought me into existence. I cannot conclude that it is a person, as there may be a rule that solipsis like me just pop out of nowhere uncaused. But such a rule is a cause. Maybe there is no rule - I just popped into existence from nothing, not of myself, nor of a rule. But then, wouldn't that be a rule? It would state something like 'for X amount of time, nothing will come about, then at time Y, a solips will come into existence'. I can go on thinking about what possible scenario possibly accounts for my existence, but I cannot imagine it as unordered by some account. Therefore I can say with certainty that I exist, and that some order exists outside myself. The very fact that my thoughts are linear, and I am able to construct rational, ordered sentences attests to this fact. I did not create the logic by which I am thinking."

Solips L knows that he came into being inside this permeating order, and he is subject to it. The order seems to be built in, permanent, or eternal. And so surely the order within which SL was conceived must be greater than him, for he fits inside its bounds. Certainly then, the order is personal, just as he is personal.

The equation of this order with a person is professed by John, in the first chapter of his account of the gospel:

1. In the beginning was the Word*, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
2. He was in the beginning with God.
3. All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being.
4. In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men.
5. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.
6. There came a man sent from God, whose name was John.
7. He came as a witness, to testify about the Light, so that all might believe through him.
8. He was not the Light, but he came to testify about the Light.
9. There was the true Light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man.
10. He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and the world did not know Him.
11. He came to His own, and those who were His own did not receive Him.
12. But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name,
13. who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.
14. And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.
15. John testified about Him and cried out, saying, "This was He of whom I said, `He who comes after me has a higher rank than I, for He existed before me.' "
16. For of His fullness we have all received, and grace upon grace.
17. For the Law was given through Moses; grace and truth were realized through Jesus Christ.
18. No one has seen God at any time; the only begotten God who is in the bosom of the Father, He has explained Him.
19. This is the testimony of John, when the Jews sent to him priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, "Who are you?"
20. And he confessed and did not deny, but confessed, "I am not the Christ."

*This Greek word is logos, referencing the Greek's notion of order, logic, reason, that by which all things have existence and orderly relationships with each other.

Another man identified this logos, this personal order who became incarnate as the very order that holds all things together.

When reasoning with the Greeks in Acts 17:28, Paul says,

"In him [that is, Christ] we live and move and have our being, as even some of your own poets have said,'For we are indeed his offspring.'"

The first part of the sentence is possibly a quote of Epimenides of Crete, but the obvious quote is of Aratus's poem "Phainomena".

Then, in his letter to the believing community in Colossae Paul writes in chapter one:

"For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities--all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together."

Thus is can be seen that even Solipse L can perceive the existence of personal order a priori.

As to physical laws, I agree with Hume, that unless we have some perpendicular reason to believe that they will persist, we can but humbly continue to trust them. Unless...

The crow case may not be our best example. Doesn't it seem silly to say that it is a physical law that all crows are black? It doesn't seem ultimate enough. The blackness of crows may be caused by the culmination of several intersecting laws and conditions. A crow is a pretty complex being.

Could it be that if we were not epistemically restricted we might be able to perceive why it is so that physical laws are as they are. Just as I shown by experience how to do calculus (although it is an a priori enterprise), can it be that if I were shown why it is so that physical laws could not have been otherwise - that they are necessary? Is it possible that I am in a fragmented state and cannot perceive with pure rational insight such necessity?

Imagine such a case: a perfectly functioning (but limited) Solipse L. I am back in the situation described above, thinking about things. I begin to think that if something physical were to exist (all conceivability objections aside), then such stuff would behave in certain ways that make sense. Not only that order exists is perceived by me, but which order exists. In fact, the very nature of order can only be one way. Given exactly what it is that particles are made of, they are required to behave accordingly. Their behavior flows logically from their very nature.

For Solipse L to imagine a given nature for potential particles that might one day come into existence IS for him to imagine the nature of their interaction with each other. In this case, what it is that is underlying these "laws" is the pervading order that exists - the fabric of reality. Even a posteriori enterprises, such as science, if clear thinking is excersized and intellectual limits are not applied, could get to the bottom of the way things operate. In such cases, more than mere physical laws can be described, but the nature of the underlying order can be: mathematics, logic, and other purely relational domains. Summaries that accurately describe mathematics and other such necessary truths are indeed descriptions of God Himself.

In what way was creation voluntary then? Aside from the fact that creation at all was voluntary, God was creative in His creation. He made choices as to how creation was to look like and operate.

When we look at the physical laws, we see them as incomplete in a description of the universe. Not only do there seem to be laws in effect here, but there are also constants and quantities. Constants are types of forces which behave in certain stable ways, and persist evenly as time advances. Quantities are amounts that seem to have been arbitrary put in at the beginning of time. The amount of matter and dark matter, for example. Also the amount of energy and dark energy, the amount of radiation, the amount of entropy, and a few others. God made choices as to how much of what ingredient to put into the universe, as well as the velocity to start us off at. He also interacts with His creation in other ways after the initial creation.

What I find interesting is that the number line contains the infinite set of numbers. For a constant to be what it is, the "odds" or really "possibilities" for its value are literally infinite. Planck's constant, for example, could have been (in the broadly logical sense) any value at all. Its chances were 1/(infinity). That it is what it is, is something to marvel at.

But not only is there Planck's constant to consider, there are a host of others. The "odds" of them occurring in the relationship that they did to one another are [1/(infinity)] X [1/(infinity), et al. The "chances" that all the constants line up properly are staggering. When considering quantities as well, marvel should skyrocket.

Science has shown that if any given constant were to be changed a tiny bit, the effects would be devastating. The constants are finely tuned to accommodate human life.

Not only does metaphysical probability not exist, but the possibilities for worlds are infinite.

The Creator is great, and greatly to be praised.

As I continue to let my imagination run away with me as I journal, I think about other scattered issues. For instance, computers sometimes have random number generators. But, they have processes for selecting such numbers. The outcomes are unknown to us, as are the processes. They are only epistemically random. If we knew the rules and the initial states, then we would not call them random. Randomness does not exist.

Another thought: are all intelligible things produced by intelligence? When Lindsey says something intelligent, I can make sense of it. It is orderly. When we have a baby, it will probably speak some gibberish (until age two, when he will unify the theories of quantum physics with general relativity). I will tell him that his gibberish is unintelligent, because it is unintelligible. If our universe is intelligible (the fundamental assumption of science, remember), does it imply that it is produced by a Mind?

Even if chaos is possible, and if such theoretical chaos could produce something orderly or intelligible, it does not account for the existence of the order that such an effect exists within. There remains a need for a law giver.

I studied Turing Machine Functionalism for a short while a couple years ago. While there are so many issues to think about, I want to highlight that the Turing Machine Functionalists still have to admit that such machines must acquiesce to order that existed before the machines, and will persist after such machines expire. What accounts for that order?

I will tell you that it is permanent, necessary, personal, self-existent, and the initiator of the existence of everything other than itself.

More unorganized journals to come. Maybe on these matters, maybe on others.

Monday, October 23, 2006

I had this dream…

Last night I had this dream where I was at this huge party my parents hosted at their house in Payson (Az), only their house was much larger than it actually is. Anyway it was a dinner party and after I got my food I preceded to sit at the table to which I was assigned. When I found my seat there was this gentleman making an argument about how God’s existence is irrelevant to being good person and so it doesn’t really matter if someone believes in God or not. I let him finish making his point before I chimed in.

“Assume for sake of argument,” I began, “that someone can be completely good with or without God’s existence. Assume further that God does exist and even though someone doesn’t believe He does exist he can do all the right actions and have all the right intentions in any circumstance whatever. Even if this is possible, it nevertheless is the case (if Theism is true) that God is the causal nexus of all existence other than Himself, in which case God is the cause of everything we see and everything we are, and He is the cause which holds all things together. But if God is how we just described we would have a duty to recognize that God is the cause of all things, and since God is a person we would have to turn our recognition of this fact into praise. The situation is analogous to, but in an even more severe than, the praise we owe an inventor for his invention. If we use the things to which the inventor invented without giving him credit we would be committing an ungrateful disservice. An inventor doesn’t even create anything new, she just rearranges in new ways things that where there all a long, things she never herself made. But in the case of God He not only arranged all things but caused all things too, in which case the disservice we would be doing to him by not recognizing these facts would be even more unvirtuous. So in the case where someone is good and doesn’t believe in God, if it turns out God does exist, not only is it the case that such a person is not being good in a certain respect (not giving credit where credit is due), in all other respects where she is a good person her disbelief in God severely trivializes such a status, since all her good deeds are derived and made possible by God’s existence. “

The same point can be made for an atheist too. Until an atheist knows with Cartesian certainty that she is correct, it will always be the case that she quite possibly owes God the recognition she has never given Him; in fact, the more she values her life and the things which comprise it the greater the possible debt becomes.

It’s also the same for the theist. Even if someone is a theist, it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t take for granted more than she realizes. All men, theists or not, must continually search the depths of their souls to the heights of the cosmos to recognize to what or whom, to anything or anyone, they owe their existence.