“For example, imagine the plight of the autophenomenologist who sets out to study the intentional objects that accompanied his engagement in wildly abandoned sex; he would end up studying the intentional objects of someone engaged in sex while simultaneously performing epoche – hardly the same experience at all.” Daniel Dennett, “Two Approaches to Mental Images.” Brainstorms, 185.
Preamble
Speedy Onan
(Blessed in his age)
Spills his delicate seed
Beside his wife’s behind,
But out of sight.
Ha! El-Shaddai takes note;
In time, Gehinnom’s guestbook’s listless pages, catalyzed,
flip and crack with age.
Which is funny, since
the whole thing was not to give birth.
Father Onan, give us tension,
Give us strength.
Let us create.
I.
Let me see past the walls,
Through the houses, possibilities
Rows on rows apart,
Through your blouse, skirt, pants,
And past the place where I am not,
Or back past the evening,
Through the steps I took,
Past where we were alone, a bit,
Through the outrageous veil of tame actuality,
Or through all time and laws of space –
In short, past all the physical supports –
Locks on our bodies, nothing more –
Past anything other than suggestions of motion,
Also, past your faults of height,
Your too-much hair,
Past here and there a bit more or less of this or that,
Past where you were wholly there –
Accidents all, accidents all –:
Past the fact that once nothing’s in the way of you and me,
then that’s in the way,
you alone
my thoughts’ mundane, gnomish fixture.
Then… then, perhaps what I really like
Is the way that
What I have stripped the scene to
Rests on my clear, glowing, pulsing eyelids;
Through the wall-less, naked, possible, timeless, spaceless, barely suggestive mental act,
I can still see those in back.
Still I can see my eyelids.
II.
My better half sends half-flaccid, unfathomable tendrils,
Dredged up from old-time psychology,
Jerking – explode, collapse, explode, collapse –
Through tensed muscles,
Out into the mental-lexical silk
of semantic space:
humey, human, predicament, boobs, david,
david, uriah, you, rapist,
ending,
reference, inscrutable reference.
Oh, uhu, awa, t-t, my God.
What was that twitch in my leg?
Huh – what did that amount to?
{Khaw-khem.} Yet is there a place on earth,
For all the things to which our dreams give birth?
Monday, June 16, 2008
On What There Is and What We Can Perceive
Our knowledge of the physical world depends on our perceptual faculties being just about as sensitive as they are. Consider an ideally rational animal, or ideally rational community of inquirers, with only, say, our auditory and proprioceptive faculties. Call it A. It is hard to imagine how A could develop anything we should consider a complete physics. Perhaps I’m wrong – I’m only going on conceivability here – but it sure seems as if the ontology of the theory A would possess at the end of inquiry just could not be the same as any ontology human beings will reach at the end of inquiry.*
A’s theory and ontology would be, in some sense, inadequate. This is because we have all of the evidence A has and more, and A’s theory is inadequate to account for all of our evidence. My intuition is that this inadequacy has some sort of normative force; that is, in some sense, A should adopt a theory that is able to account for our evidence as well as our own completed physics.
Here’s my question: What reason do we have, if any, not to believe that, for all we know, we are in A’s position? More precisely, what reason do we have, if any, not to believe that, for all we know, there is some (perhaps uninstantiated) perceptual faculty, such that our theories should account for the evidence this faculty would furnish for us, were we to have it, in the same sense that A’s theory should account for the evidence furnished by our visual faculties? To be sure, we have pretty good evidence to suspect that none of the animals on Earth have such a perceptual faculty. The question is whether, for all we know, something could have such a faculty, with the world and its contents remaining otherwise entirely as they are.
The only reason I can think of – if it is true – would be furnished by a certain sort of “instrumentalist” meta-ontology. I take instrumentalism to be the view that ontology O is to be preferred over ontology P just in case O is better suited to our purposes than P. Once we have all the evidence in hand, we answer these sorts of “big picture” ontological questions (Carnap might have called them external questions) by recourse to our purposes in theorizing. Suppose our purposes are just to develop a theory with all of the virtues of descriptive adequacy, explanatory power, and simplicity that accounts as well as possible for all of the way things appear to us.** In that case, it is clear that no such troublesome perceptual faculty could exist, because no perceptual faculties other than our own can have any normative bearing on our choice of ontology. Note that this sort of meta-ontology makes it difficult to hold on to the initial intuition I had about A’s epistemic situation – namely, that A should adopt a theory that is able to account for evidence outside of her own perceptual purview. If we think that ontologies are beholden, at last, only to the way things appear to the community of inquiry, then the percepts of outsiders, real or imagined, can have no rational bearing on what exists, in our language.
It’s not clear which I like more – this version of instrumentalism or the offending intuition. Is there some adjudicating evidence that I’ve left out of court? Can anyone point me in the direction of some relevant literature?
____________________
* - I’m assuming here that neither we nor A ever experience any sort of divine revelation or anything like that.
** - This description of “our” purposes is really unsatisfactory to me, but I can’t do any better yet. For what it’s worth, it probably beats Carnap in ESO, where he suggests that the purpose for which he uses the language of serious theory is “the purpose of communicating factual knowledge.”
A’s theory and ontology would be, in some sense, inadequate. This is because we have all of the evidence A has and more, and A’s theory is inadequate to account for all of our evidence. My intuition is that this inadequacy has some sort of normative force; that is, in some sense, A should adopt a theory that is able to account for our evidence as well as our own completed physics.
Here’s my question: What reason do we have, if any, not to believe that, for all we know, we are in A’s position? More precisely, what reason do we have, if any, not to believe that, for all we know, there is some (perhaps uninstantiated) perceptual faculty, such that our theories should account for the evidence this faculty would furnish for us, were we to have it, in the same sense that A’s theory should account for the evidence furnished by our visual faculties? To be sure, we have pretty good evidence to suspect that none of the animals on Earth have such a perceptual faculty. The question is whether, for all we know, something could have such a faculty, with the world and its contents remaining otherwise entirely as they are.
The only reason I can think of – if it is true – would be furnished by a certain sort of “instrumentalist” meta-ontology. I take instrumentalism to be the view that ontology O is to be preferred over ontology P just in case O is better suited to our purposes than P. Once we have all the evidence in hand, we answer these sorts of “big picture” ontological questions (Carnap might have called them external questions) by recourse to our purposes in theorizing. Suppose our purposes are just to develop a theory with all of the virtues of descriptive adequacy, explanatory power, and simplicity that accounts as well as possible for all of the way things appear to us.** In that case, it is clear that no such troublesome perceptual faculty could exist, because no perceptual faculties other than our own can have any normative bearing on our choice of ontology. Note that this sort of meta-ontology makes it difficult to hold on to the initial intuition I had about A’s epistemic situation – namely, that A should adopt a theory that is able to account for evidence outside of her own perceptual purview. If we think that ontologies are beholden, at last, only to the way things appear to the community of inquiry, then the percepts of outsiders, real or imagined, can have no rational bearing on what exists, in our language.
It’s not clear which I like more – this version of instrumentalism or the offending intuition. Is there some adjudicating evidence that I’ve left out of court? Can anyone point me in the direction of some relevant literature?
____________________
* - I’m assuming here that neither we nor A ever experience any sort of divine revelation or anything like that.
** - This description of “our” purposes is really unsatisfactory to me, but I can’t do any better yet. For what it’s worth, it probably beats Carnap in ESO, where he suggests that the purpose for which he uses the language of serious theory is “the purpose of communicating factual knowledge.”
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Poetic Acts
Poetic acts are acts with potentially limitless reference. Interpretations of poetic acts are legitimated by the recognition of some thoroughgoing mapping between the act and its scene, on the one hand, and some other domain. Poetic acts refer to whatever it is that they map onto in these other domains, or whatever those things refer to. The legitimation of an interpretation is both epistemic and ontic. That is, we learn of these interpretations just as they come into existence – by grasping them mentally. An interpretation can become legitimate, even though the domain might not have had a configuration appropriate for the interpretation at the time of the act; as the world changes, as our concepts and knowledge change, so do the possible interpretations of poetic acts. The reference of a poetic act is potentially limitless because there is no (obvious) limit to the mappings that might be grasped by human minds, or the domains into which these mappings might be projected.
I think that the aesthetic evaluation of poetic acts is, in large part, a matter of aesthetically evaluating their referents, with extra weight given to more detailed mappings and mappings with greater salience. If we take a sports game, religious ritual, or dance performance to be a poetic act, then, whatever the other aesthetic characteristics of the game or performance, it seems that it grows more beautiful the more beautiful its referents, or more profound the more profound its referents, or more tasteless the more tasteless its referents. One explanation of what is sometimes unsettling (to me) about competitive sports when I have war or human conflict on my mind is that there is such a clear analogy between the sport and these domains.
There is something more to say about the attractiveness of poetic acts and the attractiveness of the religious life. Stay tuned.
I think that the aesthetic evaluation of poetic acts is, in large part, a matter of aesthetically evaluating their referents, with extra weight given to more detailed mappings and mappings with greater salience. If we take a sports game, religious ritual, or dance performance to be a poetic act, then, whatever the other aesthetic characteristics of the game or performance, it seems that it grows more beautiful the more beautiful its referents, or more profound the more profound its referents, or more tasteless the more tasteless its referents. One explanation of what is sometimes unsettling (to me) about competitive sports when I have war or human conflict on my mind is that there is such a clear analogy between the sport and these domains.
There is something more to say about the attractiveness of poetic acts and the attractiveness of the religious life. Stay tuned.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Reductions as Explanations?
In the SEP article on “Definitions,” Anil Gupta formulates the idea of “reduction” in the traditional account of definitions: “the use of a formula Z containing the defined term is explained by reducing Z to a formula in the ground language.” This struck me as strange, and got me thinking about the role of explanation in motivating and comparing between proposed reductions of a term.
Do we reduce a term to a base in order to explain the use of the term? I always thought that the main three reasons to reduce a term t were: (1) to increase the simplicity of the theories in which t occurs; (2) to demonstrate that (at least some well-formed) sentences containing t are contentful (or have a certain sort of content); and (3) to demonstrate that (at least some well-formed) sentences containing t do not lead to contradiction or paradox. I might have also have included (4) to demonstrate that a set of presuppositions (preferably minimal) are sufficient to make uses of t contentful (or contentful in a certain way, e.g., “cognitively”). There is no explicit mention here of explanation. Still, there is something like an explanatory bonus when a reduction satisfies (2)-(4). When a reduction demonstrates that sentences containing t are contentful, it also explains, or can later be used to explain, that same fact. Similarly for (3) and (4). Note that this really is a bonus, not the main purpose of the reduction. This is because we don’t, in general, try to explain some alleged state of affairs when we have real doubts whether it obtains, and (2)-(4) are good motivators only if we do have real doubts about the contentfulness, consistency, and theoretical baggage of uses of a term. So, in order to be strongly motivated, the sort of explanatory function of reductions that I have already described must be secondary.
I’m not sure what Gupta means when he talks about explaining the “use” of a sentence or formula. I thought that when we wanted to explain why a word (or a sentence containing it) has one use rather than another, we do etymology. Maybe we do some psycholinguistics to find out whether the word is an onomatopoeia, or why certain concepts are lexicalized and others aren’t. Reduction seems to be besides the point here.
Do reductions have some other explanatory role? Am I missing something?
Do we reduce a term to a base in order to explain the use of the term? I always thought that the main three reasons to reduce a term t were: (1) to increase the simplicity of the theories in which t occurs; (2) to demonstrate that (at least some well-formed) sentences containing t are contentful (or have a certain sort of content); and (3) to demonstrate that (at least some well-formed) sentences containing t do not lead to contradiction or paradox. I might have also have included (4) to demonstrate that a set of presuppositions (preferably minimal) are sufficient to make uses of t contentful (or contentful in a certain way, e.g., “cognitively”). There is no explicit mention here of explanation. Still, there is something like an explanatory bonus when a reduction satisfies (2)-(4). When a reduction demonstrates that sentences containing t are contentful, it also explains, or can later be used to explain, that same fact. Similarly for (3) and (4). Note that this really is a bonus, not the main purpose of the reduction. This is because we don’t, in general, try to explain some alleged state of affairs when we have real doubts whether it obtains, and (2)-(4) are good motivators only if we do have real doubts about the contentfulness, consistency, and theoretical baggage of uses of a term. So, in order to be strongly motivated, the sort of explanatory function of reductions that I have already described must be secondary.
I’m not sure what Gupta means when he talks about explaining the “use” of a sentence or formula. I thought that when we wanted to explain why a word (or a sentence containing it) has one use rather than another, we do etymology. Maybe we do some psycholinguistics to find out whether the word is an onomatopoeia, or why certain concepts are lexicalized and others aren’t. Reduction seems to be besides the point here.
Do reductions have some other explanatory role? Am I missing something?
Saturday, May 17, 2008
A Test for Ambiguity... Tewtally Pwned
I’m reading Zwicky and Sadock’s (1973) paper on “Ambiguity Tests and How to Fail Them” for a paper on the ontology of senses (of linguistic expressions) that I’m working on.* They discuss different types of arguments for or against a sentence (or a crucial expression in the sentence) being ambiguous. One type, called “inconstancy under substitution” caught my eye. Fully spelled out, I think inconstancy under substitution arguments work something like this:
1. F is synonymous with G / F is a hypernym of G / G is a hypernym of F.
2. “… F …” has distinct understandings p and q.
3. “… G …” has p, but not q / “… G …” has an understanding that is acceptable if p, but no understanding that is acceptable if q / “… G …” has an understanding that is acceptable only if p, but none that is acceptable only if q.
4. Therefore, “… F …” is ambiguous between p and q.
Some comments: as it stands, the conclusion doesn’t logically follow from the premises. It’s hard to say what the implicit premise is that makes the conclusion seem warranted. At any rate, I don’t want to question the validity of this line of argument here. The big problem is antecedently establishing the first premise. Intuitively, the fact that substitution of G for F does not transform the possible understandings in the appropriate way** is evidence for the semantic relation not obtaining between F and G. To take one of the relations, it seems that we come to call F and G synonyms because of their intersubstitutability across diverse sentential and conversational contexts. Granted, of course, that intersubstitutability can fail in certain sorts of contexts without telling against the synonymy of the two terms; the argument from inconstancy of substitution (which does not involve reference to conversational contexts) works precisely when the sentential context is of such a sort. But we need to be able to identify those contexts prior to making the judgment that F and G are synonymous. But this entails that we can already recognize that, in the context quoted in the argument, F is ambiguous between the reading with which G is synonymous and some more idiomatic reading. So it seems that in order for us to establish the soundness of the premises of an argument from inconstancy of substitution, we must already be in a position to know that the conclusion is true.
____________________
* - The first paper I’ve started to work on since graduating from Bard. Kind of exciting.
** - The appropriate way when F and G are synonymous would be that “… F …” can be understood precisely in all the ways that “… G …” can. The appropriate way when F is a hypernym of G would be that there is a certain one-to-one correspondence between the understandings of “… F …” and the understandings of “… G …”, such that an understanding of the latter is acceptable only when the corresponding understanding of the former is acceptable, or something like that.
1. F is synonymous with G / F is a hypernym of G / G is a hypernym of F.
2. “… F …” has distinct understandings p and q.
3. “… G …” has p, but not q / “… G …” has an understanding that is acceptable if p, but no understanding that is acceptable if q / “… G …” has an understanding that is acceptable only if p, but none that is acceptable only if q.
4. Therefore, “… F …” is ambiguous between p and q.
Some comments: as it stands, the conclusion doesn’t logically follow from the premises. It’s hard to say what the implicit premise is that makes the conclusion seem warranted. At any rate, I don’t want to question the validity of this line of argument here. The big problem is antecedently establishing the first premise. Intuitively, the fact that substitution of G for F does not transform the possible understandings in the appropriate way** is evidence for the semantic relation not obtaining between F and G. To take one of the relations, it seems that we come to call F and G synonyms because of their intersubstitutability across diverse sentential and conversational contexts. Granted, of course, that intersubstitutability can fail in certain sorts of contexts without telling against the synonymy of the two terms; the argument from inconstancy of substitution (which does not involve reference to conversational contexts) works precisely when the sentential context is of such a sort. But we need to be able to identify those contexts prior to making the judgment that F and G are synonymous. But this entails that we can already recognize that, in the context quoted in the argument, F is ambiguous between the reading with which G is synonymous and some more idiomatic reading. So it seems that in order for us to establish the soundness of the premises of an argument from inconstancy of substitution, we must already be in a position to know that the conclusion is true.
____________________
* - The first paper I’ve started to work on since graduating from Bard. Kind of exciting.
** - The appropriate way when F and G are synonymous would be that “… F …” can be understood precisely in all the ways that “… G …” can. The appropriate way when F is a hypernym of G would be that there is a certain one-to-one correspondence between the understandings of “… F …” and the understandings of “… G …”, such that an understanding of the latter is acceptable only when the corresponding understanding of the former is acceptable, or something like that.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Happy Birthday!
Yom huledet sameach, Israel!
Today, in the Jewish calendar, is the 60th anniversary of the birth of the modern Jewish state of Israel. It is a very happy day in Israel, immediately following Yom Hazikaron, Israel's Memorial Day. It is a very happy day, as well, for Jews the world over who think that the state of Israel should exist.
Did anybody else find it strange that, on Yom Hazikaron and Yom Haatzmaut, the New York Times should be airing this video? Israel's treatment of its own Arab citizens is troubling in many respects, and the Times' video is nuanced and, as far as I can tell, not inaccurate. But wouldn't it be outrageous if the Times covered the Fourth of July with, say, a story about our shabby treatment of the Native Americans, or the history of our government's indifference to the intimidation of non-white voters? Isn't that exactly what's going on here? For everything a season, guys.
Today, in the Jewish calendar, is the 60th anniversary of the birth of the modern Jewish state of Israel. It is a very happy day in Israel, immediately following Yom Hazikaron, Israel's Memorial Day. It is a very happy day, as well, for Jews the world over who think that the state of Israel should exist.
Did anybody else find it strange that, on Yom Hazikaron and Yom Haatzmaut, the New York Times should be airing this video? Israel's treatment of its own Arab citizens is troubling in many respects, and the Times' video is nuanced and, as far as I can tell, not inaccurate. But wouldn't it be outrageous if the Times covered the Fourth of July with, say, a story about our shabby treatment of the Native Americans, or the history of our government's indifference to the intimidation of non-white voters? Isn't that exactly what's going on here? For everything a season, guys.
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